Mssr. Pageau mentions Matthew 10:16 “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves."
I recently saw a documentary called Canada's Arctic Wolves: The Ghosts of the Arctic. It is absolutely brutal. It is literally dog eat dog. The competition between packs is ruthless. Survival is tenuous in winter and in summer. And we are sent out into this like sheep! Yikes. Let's not kid ourselves. The Way of Nature is not all moonbeams and chickadees. It's also like this:
What does it mean to be shrewd as a serpent? I am no ophiologist (I had to look that up) but snakes tend to hide in out of the way places. In tall grass, for example. Yet we are also to be as harmless/innocent as doves. Which probably means we don't get to use our hiding places to strike out against those who would harm us, i.e the wolves
I love the discussion that goes on at this substack. I think it is an important one. Yet, as Paul once put it we are up against a monster that grows in deserts (the desert of the real). The choice draws closer to find the real desert and live there or not. A time to find our caves and hermitages and monasteries in the mountains, forests and deserts. Where we might be able to live true lives according to the Way. If we do, maybe someday a new generation of Desert Fathers and Mothers will arise. That would be worth it.
Again I think of my favorite Robinson Jeffers poem that struck me as essential 30 years ago:
The Soul's Desert -- Robinson Jeffers
August 30, 1939
They are warming up the old horrors; and all that they say is echoes of echoes.
Beware of taking sides; only watch.
These are not criminals, nor hucksters and little journalists, but the governments
Of the great nations; men favorably
Representative of massed humanity. Observe them. Wrath and laughter
Are quite irrelevant. Clearly it is time
To become disillusioned, each person to enter his own soul's desert
Jeffers is really one of the most underrated poets and prophets of the 20th century...now there was a man who did not "lack all conviction!" in fact, he lived so strongly by his convictions he had to build his own seaside tower to live in, because those who speak the truth and live by the truth are always hated outcasts who can only feel safe when hidden far away from the angry herd.
Yes! Some of your comments on these threads have sparked a lot of inspiration over here.
I humbly think this retreat should be mostly internal, at least in my personal case. I feel a calling to leave the world behind but, at the same time, cities swarming with activity seem filled with possibilities for reaching out and spreading the Good News. Perhaps this is what the is meant by being sent like a sheep unto the wolves; we're bound to face up against much opposition, which would arguably not be the case so much in actual caves and deserts.
Nanda- Obviously I haven't made the leap, as I over-comment on the internet. Speaking for myself only, I am too shallow of heart to give a good witness as I am now. There is a wall that I cannot seem to get beyond, blocking progress. The actual desert calls, be it mountain, or forest or hot desert. Do I have it in me to answer it?
Paul mentions an interesting pattern of some who seek the desert. The real, concrete desert, most intensely though not exclusively. I forget the exact language he uses, but something like:
1. Leaving the world and into the desert.
2. Death to passions and disordered attachments to the world.
3. A call to return to serve reluctantly answered.
This is the deep mythic pattern. Not all of us are called to it. At least not completely, or rather concretely. But the pattern remains. The pattern looks inescapable. All else looks shallow to me.
Some great saints have been known to advice the opposite: "Stay externally in the world for now, while internally being less and less involved in it. Otherwise, you run the risk of becoming a monkey renunciate", ie just making a show of detachment. (Now that I think of it, didn't Paul talk about something of the sort in Benbury, leaving the world externally but still carrying around inside?) Another risk is the situation you mention, where there is frustration and anxiety over something we're reluctant or, rather, maybe not ready to do. So no harm in accepting where we are and taking from there, one step at a time. Renunciation can also become a sort of fantasy, "tempting" us to avoid addressing the pressing issue of how can I listen to God here and now.
And Jack, hate to sound like I'm just shamelessly self-promoting but I'd been meaning to recommend my new blog to you. In the first post I share some experiences related to how I eventually became the monk I am today (only a month or so into it!). You can find it in English as well as Spanish. Cheers!
St Paul advises us that if the church is the body of Christ, we're all different limbs and parts of it. Which is to say that we all have different roles. Very few are called to monasticism or hermeticism; though that remains the spiritual core of the Orthodox faith, and without it all would fall into formless ruin, as the West is doing. But marriage is also viewed as a form of martyrdom, and family life is a sacred calling. Some are called to work in the world, some to pray in the desert.
I do think though that dying to the world - not being conformed to it, as Paul also puts it - is the call for all of us. You can die to the world in a city - though it will be very much harder. You can also, as St Anthony pointed out, live in a cave in the desert but bring the world with you in your heart.
I think Jack is much further down this path than he thinks he is ...
Well, you may be right. Though I certainly have a long way to go, needless to say. There is a small Western-Rite Orthodox Monastery up in the mountains not too far from where I am. I will be talking to the Abbot this afternoon. I don't think I am called to be a lifelong monk. I am interested, however, to see if it is possible to spend an extended period living as a monk.
Your insight into the mythic pattern of leaving world/dying to self/reluctant call to return is helpful in this regard. I think that is more what I am being called to, in whatever abbreviated form. We shall see if it comes about.
Thanks for your insight. In our tradition, many of the greatest teachers have been married householders their whole lives. It's fascinating to find that people like them can be considered an actual part of the Church.
We use the Sanskrit word yajña ('jñ" sounds like' guild' without the last two letters), which is usually translated as sacrifice. It's most associated with ancient fire rituals that involve throwing food and other items into a fire, but marriage is also a yajña because it's a lifelong vow to serve your partner as a service to God. Sacrifice brings auspiciousness, while reward seeking activities or karma produce worldly bondage and suffering.
Chanting the Holy Name, or praying, I also a yajña. 'Hare Krishnas' like me do it by ourselves on a rosary, but also come together often to turn these prayers into outloud singing, so the benefit isn't only for ourselves but anyone who might be listening or spontaneously joins in. Thats why you won't find many of us in the desert, although dying to the world is also a key aspect of our tradition (as, I would argue, any authentic, non deceiving or demonic spiritual path).
While meditating on the wolf documentary I thought of the phrase Homo homini lupus, or, man is wolf to man. Which nicely encapsulates the whole horror of human history. The strong do what they can, the weak suffer what they must.
The spiritual path, conversely, is a kind of de-lupification of our hearts. The process of having the wolf of our hearts removed so we don't sacrifice others for our own gain. Rather it is a painful ovinification (I am making up words here) which slowly turns us into gentle sheep. This is terrifying. How will we protect ourselves? I guess we don't. We take up the cross. Which is why most of us, myself especially, hedge our bets.
I think a lot about Nietzsche's idea of a masked will-to-power. This is when we remain a wolf, but put on a sheep costume for show. We may not even be fully aware that we are doing so. We made hide it best from ourselves, when no one else is at all fooled! We serve Mammon but fervently profess to be serving God alone. Mea maxima culpa!
Jack, don’t deprecate yourself too much because you have to hedge your bets. And yes, how do we protect ourselves? It’s a lifelong process, to place one’s faith and trust in the Divine and not in ourselves. But the journey is the goal. I trust that God sees right into our soul and know us, all our hopes and fears. Mea maxima culpa indeed. The prayer that I have been reciting over and over is Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
I hate to quibble with Yeats, but I think there's a flaw in his thinking here that may shine a light on why societies experience these episodes of collapse (even though these episodes may be as inevitable and unchangeable as episodes of creation and flourishing).
Here's my quibble:
"The best lack all conviction..." But if someone is really "the best" they can't possibly lack all conviction, as there is simply no way to be "the best" in any field in any way while "lack[ing] all conviction." (In all the great spiritual traditions, whether Buddhist, Taoist, Stoic, Confucianist, etc, being "the best" and having strong convictions are pretty much synonymous.)
Yeats had convictions (even if some were pretty wacky, or even if the conviction is simply believing in the right to pursue thought, art and imagination wherever they may lead), every great artist and writer and thinker you've ever heard of had convictions, Paul Kingsnorth has convictions, etc.
When "the best lack all conviction" it means they have given in to the pressures of the moment, to the pressure to conform or face social and career consequences, to the pressures of their peer group who are all marching in lockstep and demanding others do the same--and if you can't stand up to these pressures and publicly profess and fight for the convictions that got you to be "the best" in the first place, then you have forfeited your right to be considered any kind of "best."
There does seem to be a fair bit of rationalization in Yeats' poem. Something like, "hey, I know that I personally lack all conviction in the face of our disordered times. I must be one of the best!!" Okay, that's probably unfair to Yeats. This is acedia. Spiritual despair. "The whole thing seems hopeless!" Yet, I do know that some--many?-- that might be gently characterized as "sub-best" struggle with this.
I think Yeats is spot on. Isn't this the picture of the world today? 'The best' might be people whose hearts are good and whose convictions are true, but who are nevertheless afraid or unable to stand alone against the world. 'The worst', on the other hand, once they form a mob on Twitter, can rip everything down.
This is actually how I've always read it. I guess the question is what Yeats meant by "best" and by "conviction". The discussion here may be equivocating on these terms. Does conviction mean that we live out our beliefs fully not counting the cost? Can one be "the best" without doing so?
Maybe it is clearer--though far less poetic--to say that those who truly seek the good live in fear of those who don't; and those who unleash their will-to-power and sacrifice others in the process seem supremely confident.
Stalin and Hitler and on down the line didn't seem to lack for conviction.
I've always read Yeats' use of "the best" as a bit tongue in cheek, as in "the best of society," the people at the top of their fields, whether in politics, church life, media, academia, the arts, etc., who use their position, usually unconsciously, to hasten the unravelling evoked in the poem.
Wonderful conversation with Jonathan. Was grateful to hear you mention Illich alongside salient worthies like Berry and Ellul. I'm hoping to see David Cayley pop up to discuss his book on Illich in a few more venues, one of them being Pageau's, and I hope your comment might move the needle on that a bit.
The whole discussion of the individual and the state, anarchy and tyranny is very resonant with an essay by Saint Maria Skobtsova which I read the other night, in which she calls us away from the trap of even the pious anarchic individual (https://www.orthodoxchattanooga.com/news/2020/7/20/5vatpc3kun65b272il769qsuime4l0). From the opening to "The Second Gospel Commandment":
"It appears to me that now, too, this tendency is beginning to show itself very strongly, producing a strange picture of the world: on one side all the diverse forces of evil, united and affirming the power of the collective, of the masses, and the worthlessness and insignificance of each separate human soul; and on the other side -- dispersed and disunited Christian souls, affirming themselves in this dispersion and disunity, for whom the world becomes a sort of evil phantom, and the only reality is God and my solitary soul trembling before Him. It seems to me that this state of mind is definitely a temptation, is definitely as terrible for each person as it is for the destiny of the Church of Christ, and I would like to rise against it with all my strength and call people to each other, to stand together before God, to suffer sorrows together, to resist temptations together..."
To whom it may concern or interest, here are some photos from that wonderful evening and the following day in magical Benburb: https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzKpU3
A magnificent added bonus to the Abbey of Misrule is encountering a bunch of pretty great, often fascinating souls. Gale, her fella David, Mark who hosted the talk, Peter who lives in Wales, & then Paul's wife & children were really wonderful company. Benburb itself was well worth the trek. That 24 hours or so was the best time I've had in years, and I live a really charmed life, even in the time of the Apocalypse.
Thank you. I wish you had made it too Jack. I’m hoping Mark will organize a Kingsnorth Fest (outside of Lent because during it, Paul won’t touch a drop!) in better weather at the Benburb Priory. Benburb is well worth the trek, very good for the soul. This should become “a thing” as the kids say. Paul attracts a good crew with something to say.
As I've said before, my plan is to attend one of Paul's lectures in Ireland. Then under the cover of fog and night I will slip out and live in the bare ruins of some dilapidated Irish monastery. Or maybe Colman's Cave! It is worth a shot!
Who said anything about 2023? What about June or September? A Coalition of The Willing, if you will. To do it again, I would have gone directly from Belfast International to the inn in Moy. It’s a lovely three mile walk to Benburb. (I’ve never met more hospitable people anywhere!) Of course the prudent think would be to arrive through Dublin making strategic stops to & from Moy. Gale piqued my interest in New Grange, and the locals chanted, “Donegal” every time I invoked Dingle. Jack, you seem like you need a plausible justification for such a sublime odyssey. I’m only trying to help.
The notion of a Kingsnorth Fest is deeply disturbing!
Thanks for sharing these photos Bill. They're good to see. I'm glad you discovered the pub.
I will say that a discussion is ongoing about a possible day-long event in Ireland this autumn involving myself and Martin Shaw. Keep your eyes peeled. I'll announce it here if we can pull it off.
I really enjoyed both of these talks. Which version of Black Elk’s prayer did you read? I have found multiple versions that aren’t quite like the one you shared.
Paul, I can’t recall if you have quoted from T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets in your essays, but I thought I’d mention this bit from The Dry Salvages (part I) which I recently came across while going through the poem. It includes some vivid references to nature and the machine:
I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river
Is a strong brown god--sullen, untamed and intractable,
Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier;
Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce;
Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges.
The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten
By the dwellers in cities—ever, however, implacable.
Keeping his seasons and rages, destroyer, reminder
Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured, unpropitiated
By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting…
Paul, Ohiyesa, or Charles Eastman, is it Dakota. He grewup with his Grandparents as a traditional Dakota in the woods of central Minnesota. He married a white woman and they spent a lot of effort to help save Native tribes. They divorced because she wanted to save the Indians as whitemen and he wanted to save the Indians as Indians.
He is a very interesting person.
Black Elk is Lakota, a related but different tribal group.
I absolutely loved your talk - so rich and moving. Will you make the talk available in written form so we can go over it and study for further thought?
Wonderful talk. I had just read a letter from my now deceased father that he wrote me while I was on retreat, that at times we oddly need to retreat in order to advance, a thought that you expressed in a similar language near the end of this talk. My lovely dad grew up the in the west of Ireland and where he showed me the holy well behind the church and I felt the the power of that ancient consecrated place, so I also understand what you are saying about how you can't just wipe away the holiness much as the Irish are attempting to join the "modern" world. Wherever a lot of prayer has taken place has an energy that stays and combined with the recognition of the transcendent energy in God's creation and you are touching upon what it means to walk on holy ground.
I also utilize DBH's New Testament along with a few other more standard translations when I write for school. That plus looking at the Greek itself makes me wonder about how these committee translations make their choices. For instance, the replace Paul's choice of the word "walk" with the word "live" in some of St. Paul's letters which erases the sense of journey we are on. Oh well, as my husband says "Not too witty, not too pretty, this translation was written by a committee."
Now can you please set straight your fellow Orthodox brother Rod Dreher who is making far too comfy a pact with worldly power and celebrating Orban's victory. Cozying up to worldly power is going to backfire. In the meantime, for the rest of Lent I will see how I can detach just a little bit more. I have a ways to go.
Personally I find it harder by the day to take worldly power seriously, or to see it as anything other than a distraction or a danger. That seems to be how The Way is working on me. I have no influence over Rod Dreher or David Bentley-Hart or any other Orthodox people, and I don't want any either. We all have to walk our path. Personally, I am going to keep a very big wall between politics and faith. I agree that alliances with worldly power will backfire, whatever they are. They always do.
Sounds like your dad knew the score. I think you are right - prayer creates holy ground, over centuries or millennia. There's some hope in that.
Wise words. Politics is a nested system anyways -- way below the overarching one of faith and our walk on The Way which is on the very ground of reality.
My 28 year old son enjoys your talks and writings. Who knows where they will lead him. I circle back to prayer again . . . .
I know you repented of your statement about the Orthodox "coming to get" the Irish. But I think you are right. Of course, I also hope it will be the Western-Rite that accomplishes that. Either way.
But maybe it will be the Holy Irish earth, the thin places and sacred wells saturated with prayers and God's Grace that will do so. All of it just waiting patiently for the kairos to do their work again.
Well, I did repent, but was also serious on another level. Western Christianity needs to be re-evangelised, and I think Orthodoxy, which has been spared the mess of modernity, has the chops to do that. But that will have to happen gradually and not on our terms. I think that is happening already, actually. Perhaps with Wstern Rite too. We'll see.
This is something I am hopeful about. The first schism needs to be healed. And I definitely incorporate a lot of Eastern Orthodox spirituality into my faith practice. In comes up in seminary (getting a masters in systematic theology) at various times in positive terms.
Love the talk and all the great work you are doing.
One issue that I, as a practicing Catholic, take issue with in your ongoing analysis is a tendency to lump Catholicism in with Protestantism under the rubric of "Western Christianity." It's true that on the surface, the changes imposed on high by Vatican II have given the Faith a worldly cast, but I can assure you that we Catholics do not need re-evangelizing. Yes, I would like to see some of the liturgical practices that the Orthodox churches have maintained returned to Catholic liturgy, but otherwise the Catholic Church continues to adhere to the Magisterium, a body of teaching shared, at least for the first 1000 years of its history, with the Orthodox, and one that cannot be overturned by even the most venal of Popes. Equally as important, our spiritual practices remain as weird, enchanted, and anti-materialist as anything you'll find in Orthodoxy, and we maintain a strong monastic tradition that is experiencing a vital resurgence, especially in the convents. The heart of Catholicism is beating strong in the old ladies praying the litany of the saints and leading Rosary prayers before the Mass, in the inpouring of young families rediscovering the Faith of their grandparents, in the increasingly small-o orthodox Priests who will, as they begin to take positions of authority, turn back the tide of worldly liberalism unleashed by Vatican II and the Boomer clergy (what Bishop Barron calls "Beige Catholicism"). Our faith is so strong that even Pope Francis, who clearly would rather be the CEO of a "faith-based" NGO in Zurich or Brussels than the successor of Peter, cannot squash the enchantment of the Catholic Church.
Anyways, keep up the great work! I can't wait to read the final essays in the trilogy.
Maybe one takeaway from Tradition after modernism, aka Post-Machine Traditionalism, is that alignment with any political power and particularly Empire has always proven to be a Devil's Bargain. It may bring some good, but it can never go well.
Politics is broken and under the current paradigm/regime/trajectory I think it will probably break nearly anyone who gets involved in it. There may be stronger souls out there that can do it. Either way I am with you, I plan to stay clear. Besides, the hope that we can protect ourselves from the bad wolves by propping up good wolves of our own (in sheep's clothing perhaps) seems misguided. But maybe that's not the best way to see it.
I have taken the local position. Eg, cooking at the local soup kitchen every Saturday for a few years or when I conceived of a parent volunteer program at the largest public elementary school in my state to reduce pressure on staff and improve the child to adult ratio. Even those things take a thick skin and when I went back to school these things fell by the wayside. I am convinced that there are more opinions in my town than grains of sand on a beach! Luckily my father also taught me the skill of a well-timed joke. Got to keep a sense of humor or you are sunk.
The Aran islands still hold much of the ancient feel of Ireland somehow, if you take the time. On Inis Mor there are still a few clochans, where the monks lived independently. The winds blow like madmen, the skies are moving colour and the current keeps cold away. Well worth a sojourn.
I am sure there are many such places; however, this is one I know.
In case, anyone is looking for respite as necessity.
yes prayer does create holy ground. When I was in Lhasa doing the pilgrim rounds in the Johkang, at first I felt a bit ridiculous touching my forehead to the shrines like all the other pilgrims, but after a while, I realized, to my private shame, that I was the one who was missing out by relying on my western rationalism in understanding things. These were hallowed grounds, sanctified by fervent devout humble hearts. For them, holiness is as real as electricity is to us. I feel that even for many westerners who are believers, holiness is a vague fuzzy concept that they pay lip service to but are not really sure what it is about. I pray that I am allowed the grace to participate in the Mystery of prayer. And in my heart now, this Mystery is an all-encompassing Mystery. I know that it is not really good to mix and match religions, ecumenical aspirations aside, even my Buddhist teacher advices against it, but somehow, in my heart, I cannot abide by it. The Divine embraces all, it’s like air, it’s vital.
One last dissenting comment before I leave this forum with some relief: I found your talk really disturbing, and the strangely diffident-arrogant way in which you gave it even more so. My sense is that if there’s any god speaking through you Paul it’s the god of great fear and confusion, who is leading you down a deep rabbit hole of muddled polarisation - not helpful at all in my experience. May you emerge from that maze speedily, and not take too many people down with you, because this kind of thinking is divisive and stirs up hatred - enough of that to go around in the world as it is, let’s please not add any more to the mix in the name of self-righteous religion…
Hi Paul, thank you for sharing this recording, which I enjoyed watching, and indeed for all your thoughtful and engaging writing. You spoke much about Christian hermits and so I thought I would offer a thought of my own on that. I recently read the Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Both wonderful men they offer their life experiences and explain how they they achieved a state of joy and closeness to God (or the Divine - you'll know more about Buddhism than me) through much prayer and medidation but particularly through doggedly giving love and compassion to others always; essentially living the commandment to 'love your neighbour as yourself'. Hearing you speak about hermits reminded me of something I read (I think in the Book of Silence by Sara Maitland) about a Bishop in the early Church despairing about so many of his young priests and trainees going off to the desert to be hermits and saying to them 'whose feet will you wash' (hidden away in a cave on your own).
Although Jesus tells us 'not to be of this world' I don't take this to mean we should abandon our brothers and sisters and live in 'splendid isolation'. I think his messsage is not to focus on material things but we should very much give our time and hearts to others (of coursse, much easier said than done and I fail terribly in this). Prayer and meditation are crucial (and a period alone maybe, as you recounted of St. Patrick) but ultimately the path to God and true joy must lie in loving others indiscriminately.
Thanks Rick. The theology of monasticism, and its close ally hermiticism (most hermits in the Christian tradition are attached to monasteries) is ancient and complex and I am no expert. However, the hermetic tradition goes back at least to John the Baptist and is regarded in traditional Christian churches as the bedrock of the faith. In Orthodoxy, for example, the monastics are the heart of the faith: withour Mount Athos, and without the monks and nuns around the world, who have stepped out of the world in order to walk towards God, I suspect the church would crumble very quickly, as it has in the West since the monasteries crumbled.
It's worth saying that Christian hermits seek to love the world precisely by leaving it. Theosis (union with God) is achieved by leaving the world and concentrating solely on God. This in turn allows the monastic's prayer life to be strengthened, which is vital for the whole 'body of Christ.' The Orthodox teach that the monks who pray for the world are what keep the world alive. Chesterton once suggested that England began to die when the monasteries were dissolved - once the monks were no longer praying and chanting for the people, the people began to fall apart. I think he was probably right.
Tut and the Dalai Lama are both excellent people who have done much good, but it's worth bearing in mind that Tutu was a protestant, and thus from a tradition which rejects monasticism, whilst the Dalai Lama, though a former monk, is very much operating in the world now. Good for him, but I doubt he would reject monasticism, nor suggest that it doesn't involve 'love and compassion.' On the contrary, it seeks to cultinate it deeply in the heart. They say that if you want to be a monk because you are seeking to flee the world, you are to be turned away. You become a monk not to run from the world but to run towards God.
Of course, my own obsession with hermits and the like, as readers of my poetry and fiction will know, long predates my Christianity. I've no idea why ...
Hi Paul, thanks for your reply. I suppose I would draw a distinction between monasteries, which are communities in themselves and often play a role in the wider community and hermiticism, where one is, by definition, alone with God. I am sure a period of silence and isolation can lead one closer to God but I do wonder how many who try it see success. I read Siddhartha by Herman Hesse when I was young and considered myself atheist, but I was very struck by the fact that the monk who stayed at the monastery clearly got in to a rut of spiritual frustration and it was Siddartha, who went out into the world, who did find a path to God. Obviosly it is fiction so one could discount it but it has always stayed with me.
Ultimately I suppose, just as there are many spiritual gifts, so there are different experiences that lead closer to God and these vary, person to person.
It's worth reading some contemporary accounts of Orthodox monasticism, to get a taste of the real thing. One of the things I was trying to get at in my talk is that the contemporary world will accept a 'worldly' Christianity - ie, one which 'gets results' - but not the interior kind, based on withdrawal from the world. I'm sure it is hard work - not many are cut out for it. But it fascinates me, perhaps for that reason.
A true hermit is a rare bird. Most of us would crumble very quickly if all our social support and diversions were taken away. To think that a life of solitude is some kind of avoidance doesn't bear up to reality.
It is also easy for us to think that someone praying alone in the desert (of whatever kind) isn't "doing anything" and is being selfish. Maybe. I guess it depends on what one thinks prayer is, and what it can or cannot do. We have a default utilitarian bent in our way of thinking. It makes it hard to see what someone called to the desert is even trying to do.
If I stay "in the world" it is precisely *because* I am selfish. I want my comforts and distractions and ego-boosting. Even as it becomes increasingly clear how empty these all are.
If one were to find a way to live a life of solitude and contemplation it would be precisely towards the death of the self, the ego. At least to the degree that it was genuine.
Those who are called to live in the world can take up the slack of those who have left it. There are ample opportunities for us to serve others in the world. No need to point to the hermits as failing their vocation. How many of us are actually pulling our weight in that regard?
Yes Jack, and in my case not pulling my weight very much at all, I am ashamed to say, so you are right that I should not criticise hermits. I think for short periods it is probably a very good thing and I should like to try it but ultimately I would think one should then rejoin the world (as Jesus did), hopefully refreshed and with something to give, chiefly compassion and love. If Tutu had been a hermit the Truth and Reconciliation Committee may very well not have happened (in S. Africa or N. Ireland) - although I wouldn't want to judge what other means God might have used, but he chose to use Tutu.
RE: Not pulling one's weight: You and me both. Certainly I know for certain I am not doing so.
I would have to say that Tutu probably wasn't called to be a hermit. If he was, we wouldn't have to wonder. We probably wouldn't know his name. Someone else might have been called to do what he did, or similar. It's not like the deserts are packed with hermits. Not yet anyway!
That was a great comment, Jack. What I find interesting about your perspective Rick is how you seem to believe that everyone has a duty 'in the world.' That even hermits who leave it should only do so for a short period, then 'rejoin the world' to give 'compassion and love.' But how many people will be hermits, overall? 0.0000001% of humanity? Why are they obliged to return and be 'productive' - even assuming, as Jack says, that prayer for the world is not productive?
As I said above, traditional Christian theology has it that those who achieve kenosis (self-emptying) and pray for the world in the desert will achieve far more than most of us stumbling about here, following our own will most of the time (this includes me of course.) Personally, I am in awe of genuine monastics and hermits, whose leaving the world is a deep commitment to it.
Hi Paul, I think maybe we are approaching this from different directions. At an individual level I can see the attraction of hermiticism. I have tried contemplative prayer and although i made little progress due to a lack of self discipline i saw enough to see it as a positive direction of travel. However, i suppose my ealier comment was more focused on the corporate and if 0.0000001% of people are hermits that is not too relevant at a corporate level. I may well be under estimating the power of those hermit's prayers but, that aside, hermiticism is not a likely pursuit for the other 99.999999% of people. The lessons from Tutu and the Dalai Lama seem more likely to be meaningful and achievable for these people (than kenosis) and also are strongly represented in the gospels.
Oh and I forgot to add that The Dalia Lama would seem to agree with you about the Machine. He says: 'Our whole society has a materialistic culture. In a materialsitic way of live, there's no concept of friendship, no concept of love, just work, twenty four hours a day, like a machine. So in modern society, we eventually also become part of the large moving machine' (page 127 of the hardback)
This was a very interesting talk Paul and I have been pondering it for the past few days (pondering that has lead me to utter confusion and back again!). However it has been a process that I think has brought me a step closer to understanding, albeit abstractly, what God is (as a former Buddhist this is a rather large revelation for me).
Some thoughts I've been having are in regards to you comment on sin and how the activity of humans while 'in' the Machine align with the worst of them (my children have been studying sin for their homework recently so perhaps this is why it stood out to me!). Is it too simplistic to view The Machine as the physical manifestation of human sin? After all it is leading to a sort of hell on Earth, with climate change and environmental degradation. Are we stuck in a trap where our sins created The Machine and The Machine perpetuates our sins?
I must say I've never been too fond of the concept of sin though, may be more the idea of original sin, as it seems to black out the light that shines from within us. Our potential for love becomes shrouded by our potential for sin perhaps? Also I see in my children that if you focus love on this light the desire to shine dispels the shadows lingering on the periphery. Where as the guilt of sin makes the flame gutter.
I don't know how comfortable I am with my children doing their first confession right now! But I do see how the love of God can see them right!
Thanks for this Naomi. I've been pondering the same questions myself for some time, and I wouldn't like to say I have any solid answers (if such things even exist.)
One thing I come back to again and again is the etymology of the word 'sin.' It means 'to miss the mark' (it's originally a term from archery.) What is the mark? It is what the Orthodox call theosis - union with God. Or, perhaps, living according to God's will rather than your own: walking the narrow path to the strait gate. That's the mark. Daily we fall off the path.
What do we then do? We repent. The Greek word for that - 'metanoia' - translates as 'turn around' or 'change of heart.' I found this quote which might speak to you:
"[Metanoia] involves, that is, not mere regret of past evil but a recognition by man of a darkened vision of his own condition, in which sin, by separating him from God, has reduced him to a divided, autonomous existence, depriving him of both his natural glory and freedom."
So: we miss the mark, we turn around, we have change of heart, we try again. That's sin and repentance, as I understand it. Something else too: in the Orthodox tradition sin is not a moral failing, but a sickness. The church is a 'spiritual hospital' where we go to be treated, rather than a courtroom where we go to be condemned.
And finally: again in the Orthodox tradition, there is no 'original sin', as in a transgression that we all inherit responsibility for. There is, rather, 'ancestral sin' - the story that, at humanity's origins, we somehow fell away from God and into the self. We all inherit the consequences of that, but not personal responsibility for it.
If that fall away from unity with God and nature/creation is a fall into self and selfishness, then I think that you're right: what I'm calling the 'Machine' is a result of that fall. It's the inevitable result of us trying to run the world according to our human will, rather than God's.
Sin definitely darkens the potential for love. Hence repentance, confession, an attempt at living according to God's will by purging the passions. That's the way to see the love more clearly. Of course, this is all book learning for me. But you have to start somewhere ...
Wow! Thanks Paul. With the original meaning of the word sin and the concept of theosis it all falls into place! This is what my heart has been telling me for a long time; the empirical interconnectedness of all things that science is only just beginning to understand is what Christianity has been describing all along. I think I just had to realise that God was the light I saw in all of nature/created things. Am I right in thinking that what happened during the reformation was the 'Machine' modifying Christianity to suits its own ends? Perhaps that's why my childhood experience of church (I was brought up protestant) felt more like behaviour control than being unified with the world around me. Plus, when you can't see the beauty of God around you (concrete streets and chimney stacks -products of the self I suppose) it's hard to find God when you just keep seeing self.
To lose the union with God causes suffering on many levels then. Not just the internal emotional effects. And of course this is what's happening to the Earth. I can see this through my studies in Naturopathy. When a client presents at clinic with illness because they're eating processed food, leading a stressful life in the 'Machine' and being too sedentary; the illness is down to the loss of union with God?? I suppose as Naturopaths we try and re-establish the union using organic, seasonal food and herbs and a change in lifestyle. However, it does not address the spiritual need....perhaps this is why ancient traditional healers used spirituality as a means to cure. They perhaps weren't invoking a 'supernatural spirit' as is commonly understood but reuniting patients with God...this is just my conjecture though so I'd have to look into it more. I like the concept of the church being a 'spiritual hospital' but I suppose that fits with the passion I have for supporting human healing!
Thanks again Paul, if you have any recommended further reading I'd be very appreciative.
Mssr. Pageau mentions Matthew 10:16 “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves."
I recently saw a documentary called Canada's Arctic Wolves: The Ghosts of the Arctic. It is absolutely brutal. It is literally dog eat dog. The competition between packs is ruthless. Survival is tenuous in winter and in summer. And we are sent out into this like sheep! Yikes. Let's not kid ourselves. The Way of Nature is not all moonbeams and chickadees. It's also like this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0QFE-hxgI8&ab_channel=RealWild
What does it mean to be shrewd as a serpent? I am no ophiologist (I had to look that up) but snakes tend to hide in out of the way places. In tall grass, for example. Yet we are also to be as harmless/innocent as doves. Which probably means we don't get to use our hiding places to strike out against those who would harm us, i.e the wolves
I love the discussion that goes on at this substack. I think it is an important one. Yet, as Paul once put it we are up against a monster that grows in deserts (the desert of the real). The choice draws closer to find the real desert and live there or not. A time to find our caves and hermitages and monasteries in the mountains, forests and deserts. Where we might be able to live true lives according to the Way. If we do, maybe someday a new generation of Desert Fathers and Mothers will arise. That would be worth it.
Again I think of my favorite Robinson Jeffers poem that struck me as essential 30 years ago:
The Soul's Desert -- Robinson Jeffers
August 30, 1939
They are warming up the old horrors; and all that they say is echoes of echoes.
Beware of taking sides; only watch.
These are not criminals, nor hucksters and little journalists, but the governments
Of the great nations; men favorably
Representative of massed humanity. Observe them. Wrath and laughter
Are quite irrelevant. Clearly it is time
To become disillusioned, each person to enter his own soul's desert
And look for God--having seen man.
Paul- That said, excellent talk and excellent discussion with Mssr. Pageau. -Jack
Jeffers is really one of the most underrated poets and prophets of the 20th century...now there was a man who did not "lack all conviction!" in fact, he lived so strongly by his convictions he had to build his own seaside tower to live in, because those who speak the truth and live by the truth are always hated outcasts who can only feel safe when hidden far away from the angry herd.
That is the key isn't it?
Yes! Some of your comments on these threads have sparked a lot of inspiration over here.
I humbly think this retreat should be mostly internal, at least in my personal case. I feel a calling to leave the world behind but, at the same time, cities swarming with activity seem filled with possibilities for reaching out and spreading the Good News. Perhaps this is what the is meant by being sent like a sheep unto the wolves; we're bound to face up against much opposition, which would arguably not be the case so much in actual caves and deserts.
Beatiful poem!
Nanda- Obviously I haven't made the leap, as I over-comment on the internet. Speaking for myself only, I am too shallow of heart to give a good witness as I am now. There is a wall that I cannot seem to get beyond, blocking progress. The actual desert calls, be it mountain, or forest or hot desert. Do I have it in me to answer it?
Paul mentions an interesting pattern of some who seek the desert. The real, concrete desert, most intensely though not exclusively. I forget the exact language he uses, but something like:
1. Leaving the world and into the desert.
2. Death to passions and disordered attachments to the world.
3. A call to return to serve reluctantly answered.
This is the deep mythic pattern. Not all of us are called to it. At least not completely, or rather concretely. But the pattern remains. The pattern looks inescapable. All else looks shallow to me.
Or maybe some of us need the real, external desert to find the inner one. I don't know.
Some great saints have been known to advice the opposite: "Stay externally in the world for now, while internally being less and less involved in it. Otherwise, you run the risk of becoming a monkey renunciate", ie just making a show of detachment. (Now that I think of it, didn't Paul talk about something of the sort in Benbury, leaving the world externally but still carrying around inside?) Another risk is the situation you mention, where there is frustration and anxiety over something we're reluctant or, rather, maybe not ready to do. So no harm in accepting where we are and taking from there, one step at a time. Renunciation can also become a sort of fantasy, "tempting" us to avoid addressing the pressing issue of how can I listen to God here and now.
And Jack, hate to sound like I'm just shamelessly self-promoting but I'd been meaning to recommend my new blog to you. In the first post I share some experiences related to how I eventually became the monk I am today (only a month or so into it!). You can find it in English as well as Spanish. Cheers!
St Paul advises us that if the church is the body of Christ, we're all different limbs and parts of it. Which is to say that we all have different roles. Very few are called to monasticism or hermeticism; though that remains the spiritual core of the Orthodox faith, and without it all would fall into formless ruin, as the West is doing. But marriage is also viewed as a form of martyrdom, and family life is a sacred calling. Some are called to work in the world, some to pray in the desert.
I do think though that dying to the world - not being conformed to it, as Paul also puts it - is the call for all of us. You can die to the world in a city - though it will be very much harder. You can also, as St Anthony pointed out, live in a cave in the desert but bring the world with you in your heart.
I think Jack is much further down this path than he thinks he is ...
Well, you may be right. Though I certainly have a long way to go, needless to say. There is a small Western-Rite Orthodox Monastery up in the mountains not too far from where I am. I will be talking to the Abbot this afternoon. I don't think I am called to be a lifelong monk. I am interested, however, to see if it is possible to spend an extended period living as a monk.
Your insight into the mythic pattern of leaving world/dying to self/reluctant call to return is helpful in this regard. I think that is more what I am being called to, in whatever abbreviated form. We shall see if it comes about.
Thanks for your insight. In our tradition, many of the greatest teachers have been married householders their whole lives. It's fascinating to find that people like them can be considered an actual part of the Church.
We use the Sanskrit word yajña ('jñ" sounds like' guild' without the last two letters), which is usually translated as sacrifice. It's most associated with ancient fire rituals that involve throwing food and other items into a fire, but marriage is also a yajña because it's a lifelong vow to serve your partner as a service to God. Sacrifice brings auspiciousness, while reward seeking activities or karma produce worldly bondage and suffering.
Chanting the Holy Name, or praying, I also a yajña. 'Hare Krishnas' like me do it by ourselves on a rosary, but also come together often to turn these prayers into outloud singing, so the benefit isn't only for ourselves but anyone who might be listening or spontaneously joins in. Thats why you won't find many of us in the desert, although dying to the world is also a key aspect of our tradition (as, I would argue, any authentic, non deceiving or demonic spiritual path).
Nanda- I will take a look. Thank you. -Jack
While meditating on the wolf documentary I thought of the phrase Homo homini lupus, or, man is wolf to man. Which nicely encapsulates the whole horror of human history. The strong do what they can, the weak suffer what they must.
The spiritual path, conversely, is a kind of de-lupification of our hearts. The process of having the wolf of our hearts removed so we don't sacrifice others for our own gain. Rather it is a painful ovinification (I am making up words here) which slowly turns us into gentle sheep. This is terrifying. How will we protect ourselves? I guess we don't. We take up the cross. Which is why most of us, myself especially, hedge our bets.
I think a lot about Nietzsche's idea of a masked will-to-power. This is when we remain a wolf, but put on a sheep costume for show. We may not even be fully aware that we are doing so. We made hide it best from ourselves, when no one else is at all fooled! We serve Mammon but fervently profess to be serving God alone. Mea maxima culpa!
Jack, don’t deprecate yourself too much because you have to hedge your bets. And yes, how do we protect ourselves? It’s a lifelong process, to place one’s faith and trust in the Divine and not in ourselves. But the journey is the goal. I trust that God sees right into our soul and know us, all our hopes and fears. Mea maxima culpa indeed. The prayer that I have been reciting over and over is Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Rod Dreher ‘s book the Benedict Option discusses this very subject.
Thank you Leonore, I'll have a look!
Amén 🙏.
I hate to quibble with Yeats, but I think there's a flaw in his thinking here that may shine a light on why societies experience these episodes of collapse (even though these episodes may be as inevitable and unchangeable as episodes of creation and flourishing).
Here's my quibble:
"The best lack all conviction..." But if someone is really "the best" they can't possibly lack all conviction, as there is simply no way to be "the best" in any field in any way while "lack[ing] all conviction." (In all the great spiritual traditions, whether Buddhist, Taoist, Stoic, Confucianist, etc, being "the best" and having strong convictions are pretty much synonymous.)
Yeats had convictions (even if some were pretty wacky, or even if the conviction is simply believing in the right to pursue thought, art and imagination wherever they may lead), every great artist and writer and thinker you've ever heard of had convictions, Paul Kingsnorth has convictions, etc.
When "the best lack all conviction" it means they have given in to the pressures of the moment, to the pressure to conform or face social and career consequences, to the pressures of their peer group who are all marching in lockstep and demanding others do the same--and if you can't stand up to these pressures and publicly profess and fight for the convictions that got you to be "the best" in the first place, then you have forfeited your right to be considered any kind of "best."
But, hey, it's a poem not a treatise!
There does seem to be a fair bit of rationalization in Yeats' poem. Something like, "hey, I know that I personally lack all conviction in the face of our disordered times. I must be one of the best!!" Okay, that's probably unfair to Yeats. This is acedia. Spiritual despair. "The whole thing seems hopeless!" Yet, I do know that some--many?-- that might be gently characterized as "sub-best" struggle with this.
I think Yeats is spot on. Isn't this the picture of the world today? 'The best' might be people whose hearts are good and whose convictions are true, but who are nevertheless afraid or unable to stand alone against the world. 'The worst', on the other hand, once they form a mob on Twitter, can rip everything down.
This is actually how I've always read it. I guess the question is what Yeats meant by "best" and by "conviction". The discussion here may be equivocating on these terms. Does conviction mean that we live out our beliefs fully not counting the cost? Can one be "the best" without doing so?
Maybe it is clearer--though far less poetic--to say that those who truly seek the good live in fear of those who don't; and those who unleash their will-to-power and sacrifice others in the process seem supremely confident.
Stalin and Hitler and on down the line didn't seem to lack for conviction.
I've always read Yeats' use of "the best" as a bit tongue in cheek, as in "the best of society," the people at the top of their fields, whether in politics, church life, media, academia, the arts, etc., who use their position, usually unconsciously, to hasten the unravelling evoked in the poem.
Wonderful conversation with Jonathan. Was grateful to hear you mention Illich alongside salient worthies like Berry and Ellul. I'm hoping to see David Cayley pop up to discuss his book on Illich in a few more venues, one of them being Pageau's, and I hope your comment might move the needle on that a bit.
The whole discussion of the individual and the state, anarchy and tyranny is very resonant with an essay by Saint Maria Skobtsova which I read the other night, in which she calls us away from the trap of even the pious anarchic individual (https://www.orthodoxchattanooga.com/news/2020/7/20/5vatpc3kun65b272il769qsuime4l0). From the opening to "The Second Gospel Commandment":
"It appears to me that now, too, this tendency is beginning to show itself very strongly, producing a strange picture of the world: on one side all the diverse forces of evil, united and affirming the power of the collective, of the masses, and the worthlessness and insignificance of each separate human soul; and on the other side -- dispersed and disunited Christian souls, affirming themselves in this dispersion and disunity, for whom the world becomes a sort of evil phantom, and the only reality is God and my solitary soul trembling before Him. It seems to me that this state of mind is definitely a temptation, is definitely as terrible for each person as it is for the destiny of the Church of Christ, and I would like to rise against it with all my strength and call people to each other, to stand together before God, to suffer sorrows together, to resist temptations together..."
It is well worth reading. God bless all of you.
To whom it may concern or interest, here are some photos from that wonderful evening and the following day in magical Benburb: https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzKpU3
A magnificent added bonus to the Abbey of Misrule is encountering a bunch of pretty great, often fascinating souls. Gale, her fella David, Mark who hosted the talk, Peter who lives in Wales, & then Paul's wife & children were really wonderful company. Benburb itself was well worth the trek. That 24 hours or so was the best time I've had in years, and I live a really charmed life, even in the time of the Apocalypse.
Thank you for the photos. I wish I could have been there!
Thank you. I wish you had made it too Jack. I’m hoping Mark will organize a Kingsnorth Fest (outside of Lent because during it, Paul won’t touch a drop!) in better weather at the Benburb Priory. Benburb is well worth the trek, very good for the soul. This should become “a thing” as the kids say. Paul attracts a good crew with something to say.
As I've said before, my plan is to attend one of Paul's lectures in Ireland. Then under the cover of fog and night I will slip out and live in the bare ruins of some dilapidated Irish monastery. Or maybe Colman's Cave! It is worth a shot!
But Kingsnorth Fest 2023 is on the docket!
Who said anything about 2023? What about June or September? A Coalition of The Willing, if you will. To do it again, I would have gone directly from Belfast International to the inn in Moy. It’s a lovely three mile walk to Benburb. (I’ve never met more hospitable people anywhere!) Of course the prudent think would be to arrive through Dublin making strategic stops to & from Moy. Gale piqued my interest in New Grange, and the locals chanted, “Donegal” every time I invoked Dingle. Jack, you seem like you need a plausible justification for such a sublime odyssey. I’m only trying to help.
The notion of a Kingsnorth Fest is deeply disturbing!
Thanks for sharing these photos Bill. They're good to see. I'm glad you discovered the pub.
I will say that a discussion is ongoing about a possible day-long event in Ireland this autumn involving myself and Martin Shaw. Keep your eyes peeled. I'll announce it here if we can pull it off.
Give as much heads up as possible. I need to renew my passport!
Kingsnorth by Northwest Festival. Or KNXNW.
The Irish are the best. I stand by that.
You want a cave? I can get you a cave. Hell, I can get you a cave by three o'clock, Dude.
Sorry about that. A pint for anyone who spots the reference. Also, there are a lot of hermiting possibilities on this island.
The Big Lebowski!
You win. If the Fest happens you can take me up on it.
Paul Kingsnorth sites the Book of Lebowski! Could the material world possibly get any better?!!!
Yeah, well, that's just like your opinion, man.
And I do hope to collect on that pint someday!
I really enjoyed both of these talks. Which version of Black Elk’s prayer did you read? I have found multiple versions that aren’t quite like the one you shared.
A good question. It was on a piece of card I found in the dining room just before the talk, so I don't know the origin.
Can you take a picture and post somewhere accessible? Jon Sweeney's book on Black Elk is fantastic.
Paul, I can’t recall if you have quoted from T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets in your essays, but I thought I’d mention this bit from The Dry Salvages (part I) which I recently came across while going through the poem. It includes some vivid references to nature and the machine:
I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river
Is a strong brown god--sullen, untamed and intractable,
Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier;
Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce;
Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges.
The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten
By the dwellers in cities—ever, however, implacable.
Keeping his seasons and rages, destroyer, reminder
Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured, unpropitiated
By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting…
Paul, Ohiyesa, or Charles Eastman, is it Dakota. He grewup with his Grandparents as a traditional Dakota in the woods of central Minnesota. He married a white woman and they spent a lot of effort to help save Native tribes. They divorced because she wanted to save the Indians as whitemen and he wanted to save the Indians as Indians.
He is a very interesting person.
Black Elk is Lakota, a related but different tribal group.
Many thanks for this info - I would like to explore him further.
I absolutely loved your talk - so rich and moving. Will you make the talk available in written form so we can go over it and study for further thought?
Loved your talk. A soulful reminder that the middle path between asceticism and materialism is not easy. Wish I could’ve been there.
Wonderful talk. I had just read a letter from my now deceased father that he wrote me while I was on retreat, that at times we oddly need to retreat in order to advance, a thought that you expressed in a similar language near the end of this talk. My lovely dad grew up the in the west of Ireland and where he showed me the holy well behind the church and I felt the the power of that ancient consecrated place, so I also understand what you are saying about how you can't just wipe away the holiness much as the Irish are attempting to join the "modern" world. Wherever a lot of prayer has taken place has an energy that stays and combined with the recognition of the transcendent energy in God's creation and you are touching upon what it means to walk on holy ground.
I also utilize DBH's New Testament along with a few other more standard translations when I write for school. That plus looking at the Greek itself makes me wonder about how these committee translations make their choices. For instance, the replace Paul's choice of the word "walk" with the word "live" in some of St. Paul's letters which erases the sense of journey we are on. Oh well, as my husband says "Not too witty, not too pretty, this translation was written by a committee."
Now can you please set straight your fellow Orthodox brother Rod Dreher who is making far too comfy a pact with worldly power and celebrating Orban's victory. Cozying up to worldly power is going to backfire. In the meantime, for the rest of Lent I will see how I can detach just a little bit more. I have a ways to go.
Personally I find it harder by the day to take worldly power seriously, or to see it as anything other than a distraction or a danger. That seems to be how The Way is working on me. I have no influence over Rod Dreher or David Bentley-Hart or any other Orthodox people, and I don't want any either. We all have to walk our path. Personally, I am going to keep a very big wall between politics and faith. I agree that alliances with worldly power will backfire, whatever they are. They always do.
Sounds like your dad knew the score. I think you are right - prayer creates holy ground, over centuries or millennia. There's some hope in that.
Wise words. Politics is a nested system anyways -- way below the overarching one of faith and our walk on The Way which is on the very ground of reality.
My 28 year old son enjoys your talks and writings. Who knows where they will lead him. I circle back to prayer again . . . .
I know you repented of your statement about the Orthodox "coming to get" the Irish. But I think you are right. Of course, I also hope it will be the Western-Rite that accomplishes that. Either way.
But maybe it will be the Holy Irish earth, the thin places and sacred wells saturated with prayers and God's Grace that will do so. All of it just waiting patiently for the kairos to do their work again.
Well, I did repent, but was also serious on another level. Western Christianity needs to be re-evangelised, and I think Orthodoxy, which has been spared the mess of modernity, has the chops to do that. But that will have to happen gradually and not on our terms. I think that is happening already, actually. Perhaps with Wstern Rite too. We'll see.
This is something I am hopeful about. The first schism needs to be healed. And I definitely incorporate a lot of Eastern Orthodox spirituality into my faith practice. In comes up in seminary (getting a masters in systematic theology) at various times in positive terms.
Love the talk and all the great work you are doing.
One issue that I, as a practicing Catholic, take issue with in your ongoing analysis is a tendency to lump Catholicism in with Protestantism under the rubric of "Western Christianity." It's true that on the surface, the changes imposed on high by Vatican II have given the Faith a worldly cast, but I can assure you that we Catholics do not need re-evangelizing. Yes, I would like to see some of the liturgical practices that the Orthodox churches have maintained returned to Catholic liturgy, but otherwise the Catholic Church continues to adhere to the Magisterium, a body of teaching shared, at least for the first 1000 years of its history, with the Orthodox, and one that cannot be overturned by even the most venal of Popes. Equally as important, our spiritual practices remain as weird, enchanted, and anti-materialist as anything you'll find in Orthodoxy, and we maintain a strong monastic tradition that is experiencing a vital resurgence, especially in the convents. The heart of Catholicism is beating strong in the old ladies praying the litany of the saints and leading Rosary prayers before the Mass, in the inpouring of young families rediscovering the Faith of their grandparents, in the increasingly small-o orthodox Priests who will, as they begin to take positions of authority, turn back the tide of worldly liberalism unleashed by Vatican II and the Boomer clergy (what Bishop Barron calls "Beige Catholicism"). Our faith is so strong that even Pope Francis, who clearly would rather be the CEO of a "faith-based" NGO in Zurich or Brussels than the successor of Peter, cannot squash the enchantment of the Catholic Church.
Anyways, keep up the great work! I can't wait to read the final essays in the trilogy.
Maybe one takeaway from Tradition after modernism, aka Post-Machine Traditionalism, is that alignment with any political power and particularly Empire has always proven to be a Devil's Bargain. It may bring some good, but it can never go well.
Politics is broken and under the current paradigm/regime/trajectory I think it will probably break nearly anyone who gets involved in it. There may be stronger souls out there that can do it. Either way I am with you, I plan to stay clear. Besides, the hope that we can protect ourselves from the bad wolves by propping up good wolves of our own (in sheep's clothing perhaps) seems misguided. But maybe that's not the best way to see it.
I have taken the local position. Eg, cooking at the local soup kitchen every Saturday for a few years or when I conceived of a parent volunteer program at the largest public elementary school in my state to reduce pressure on staff and improve the child to adult ratio. Even those things take a thick skin and when I went back to school these things fell by the wayside. I am convinced that there are more opinions in my town than grains of sand on a beach! Luckily my father also taught me the skill of a well-timed joke. Got to keep a sense of humor or you are sunk.
Re: a will-timed joke. My father taught me the same. A great blessing.
The Aran islands still hold much of the ancient feel of Ireland somehow, if you take the time. On Inis Mor there are still a few clochans, where the monks lived independently. The winds blow like madmen, the skies are moving colour and the current keeps cold away. Well worth a sojourn.
I am sure there are many such places; however, this is one I know.
In case, anyone is looking for respite as necessity.
yes prayer does create holy ground. When I was in Lhasa doing the pilgrim rounds in the Johkang, at first I felt a bit ridiculous touching my forehead to the shrines like all the other pilgrims, but after a while, I realized, to my private shame, that I was the one who was missing out by relying on my western rationalism in understanding things. These were hallowed grounds, sanctified by fervent devout humble hearts. For them, holiness is as real as electricity is to us. I feel that even for many westerners who are believers, holiness is a vague fuzzy concept that they pay lip service to but are not really sure what it is about. I pray that I am allowed the grace to participate in the Mystery of prayer. And in my heart now, this Mystery is an all-encompassing Mystery. I know that it is not really good to mix and match religions, ecumenical aspirations aside, even my Buddhist teacher advices against it, but somehow, in my heart, I cannot abide by it. The Divine embraces all, it’s like air, it’s vital.
The holy places in Ireland seem to collect prayers as earth and stone and water.
One last dissenting comment before I leave this forum with some relief: I found your talk really disturbing, and the strangely diffident-arrogant way in which you gave it even more so. My sense is that if there’s any god speaking through you Paul it’s the god of great fear and confusion, who is leading you down a deep rabbit hole of muddled polarisation - not helpful at all in my experience. May you emerge from that maze speedily, and not take too many people down with you, because this kind of thinking is divisive and stirs up hatred - enough of that to go around in the world as it is, let’s please not add any more to the mix in the name of self-righteous religion…
The relief is mutual. Happy Easter!
Hi Paul, thank you for sharing this recording, which I enjoyed watching, and indeed for all your thoughtful and engaging writing. You spoke much about Christian hermits and so I thought I would offer a thought of my own on that. I recently read the Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Both wonderful men they offer their life experiences and explain how they they achieved a state of joy and closeness to God (or the Divine - you'll know more about Buddhism than me) through much prayer and medidation but particularly through doggedly giving love and compassion to others always; essentially living the commandment to 'love your neighbour as yourself'. Hearing you speak about hermits reminded me of something I read (I think in the Book of Silence by Sara Maitland) about a Bishop in the early Church despairing about so many of his young priests and trainees going off to the desert to be hermits and saying to them 'whose feet will you wash' (hidden away in a cave on your own).
Although Jesus tells us 'not to be of this world' I don't take this to mean we should abandon our brothers and sisters and live in 'splendid isolation'. I think his messsage is not to focus on material things but we should very much give our time and hearts to others (of coursse, much easier said than done and I fail terribly in this). Prayer and meditation are crucial (and a period alone maybe, as you recounted of St. Patrick) but ultimately the path to God and true joy must lie in loving others indiscriminately.
Thanks Rick. The theology of monasticism, and its close ally hermiticism (most hermits in the Christian tradition are attached to monasteries) is ancient and complex and I am no expert. However, the hermetic tradition goes back at least to John the Baptist and is regarded in traditional Christian churches as the bedrock of the faith. In Orthodoxy, for example, the monastics are the heart of the faith: withour Mount Athos, and without the monks and nuns around the world, who have stepped out of the world in order to walk towards God, I suspect the church would crumble very quickly, as it has in the West since the monasteries crumbled.
It's worth saying that Christian hermits seek to love the world precisely by leaving it. Theosis (union with God) is achieved by leaving the world and concentrating solely on God. This in turn allows the monastic's prayer life to be strengthened, which is vital for the whole 'body of Christ.' The Orthodox teach that the monks who pray for the world are what keep the world alive. Chesterton once suggested that England began to die when the monasteries were dissolved - once the monks were no longer praying and chanting for the people, the people began to fall apart. I think he was probably right.
Tut and the Dalai Lama are both excellent people who have done much good, but it's worth bearing in mind that Tutu was a protestant, and thus from a tradition which rejects monasticism, whilst the Dalai Lama, though a former monk, is very much operating in the world now. Good for him, but I doubt he would reject monasticism, nor suggest that it doesn't involve 'love and compassion.' On the contrary, it seeks to cultinate it deeply in the heart. They say that if you want to be a monk because you are seeking to flee the world, you are to be turned away. You become a monk not to run from the world but to run towards God.
Of course, my own obsession with hermits and the like, as readers of my poetry and fiction will know, long predates my Christianity. I've no idea why ...
Hi Paul, thanks for your reply. I suppose I would draw a distinction between monasteries, which are communities in themselves and often play a role in the wider community and hermiticism, where one is, by definition, alone with God. I am sure a period of silence and isolation can lead one closer to God but I do wonder how many who try it see success. I read Siddhartha by Herman Hesse when I was young and considered myself atheist, but I was very struck by the fact that the monk who stayed at the monastery clearly got in to a rut of spiritual frustration and it was Siddartha, who went out into the world, who did find a path to God. Obviosly it is fiction so one could discount it but it has always stayed with me.
Ultimately I suppose, just as there are many spiritual gifts, so there are different experiences that lead closer to God and these vary, person to person.
It's worth reading some contemporary accounts of Orthodox monasticism, to get a taste of the real thing. One of the things I was trying to get at in my talk is that the contemporary world will accept a 'worldly' Christianity - ie, one which 'gets results' - but not the interior kind, based on withdrawal from the world. I'm sure it is hard work - not many are cut out for it. But it fascinates me, perhaps for that reason.
A true hermit is a rare bird. Most of us would crumble very quickly if all our social support and diversions were taken away. To think that a life of solitude is some kind of avoidance doesn't bear up to reality.
It is also easy for us to think that someone praying alone in the desert (of whatever kind) isn't "doing anything" and is being selfish. Maybe. I guess it depends on what one thinks prayer is, and what it can or cannot do. We have a default utilitarian bent in our way of thinking. It makes it hard to see what someone called to the desert is even trying to do.
If I stay "in the world" it is precisely *because* I am selfish. I want my comforts and distractions and ego-boosting. Even as it becomes increasingly clear how empty these all are.
If one were to find a way to live a life of solitude and contemplation it would be precisely towards the death of the self, the ego. At least to the degree that it was genuine.
Those who are called to live in the world can take up the slack of those who have left it. There are ample opportunities for us to serve others in the world. No need to point to the hermits as failing their vocation. How many of us are actually pulling our weight in that regard?
Yes Jack, and in my case not pulling my weight very much at all, I am ashamed to say, so you are right that I should not criticise hermits. I think for short periods it is probably a very good thing and I should like to try it but ultimately I would think one should then rejoin the world (as Jesus did), hopefully refreshed and with something to give, chiefly compassion and love. If Tutu had been a hermit the Truth and Reconciliation Committee may very well not have happened (in S. Africa or N. Ireland) - although I wouldn't want to judge what other means God might have used, but he chose to use Tutu.
RE: Not pulling one's weight: You and me both. Certainly I know for certain I am not doing so.
I would have to say that Tutu probably wasn't called to be a hermit. If he was, we wouldn't have to wonder. We probably wouldn't know his name. Someone else might have been called to do what he did, or similar. It's not like the deserts are packed with hermits. Not yet anyway!
That was a great comment, Jack. What I find interesting about your perspective Rick is how you seem to believe that everyone has a duty 'in the world.' That even hermits who leave it should only do so for a short period, then 'rejoin the world' to give 'compassion and love.' But how many people will be hermits, overall? 0.0000001% of humanity? Why are they obliged to return and be 'productive' - even assuming, as Jack says, that prayer for the world is not productive?
As I said above, traditional Christian theology has it that those who achieve kenosis (self-emptying) and pray for the world in the desert will achieve far more than most of us stumbling about here, following our own will most of the time (this includes me of course.) Personally, I am in awe of genuine monastics and hermits, whose leaving the world is a deep commitment to it.
Hi Paul, I think maybe we are approaching this from different directions. At an individual level I can see the attraction of hermiticism. I have tried contemplative prayer and although i made little progress due to a lack of self discipline i saw enough to see it as a positive direction of travel. However, i suppose my ealier comment was more focused on the corporate and if 0.0000001% of people are hermits that is not too relevant at a corporate level. I may well be under estimating the power of those hermit's prayers but, that aside, hermiticism is not a likely pursuit for the other 99.999999% of people. The lessons from Tutu and the Dalai Lama seem more likely to be meaningful and achievable for these people (than kenosis) and also are strongly represented in the gospels.
Oh and I forgot to add that The Dalia Lama would seem to agree with you about the Machine. He says: 'Our whole society has a materialistic culture. In a materialsitic way of live, there's no concept of friendship, no concept of love, just work, twenty four hours a day, like a machine. So in modern society, we eventually also become part of the large moving machine' (page 127 of the hardback)
This was a very interesting talk Paul and I have been pondering it for the past few days (pondering that has lead me to utter confusion and back again!). However it has been a process that I think has brought me a step closer to understanding, albeit abstractly, what God is (as a former Buddhist this is a rather large revelation for me).
Some thoughts I've been having are in regards to you comment on sin and how the activity of humans while 'in' the Machine align with the worst of them (my children have been studying sin for their homework recently so perhaps this is why it stood out to me!). Is it too simplistic to view The Machine as the physical manifestation of human sin? After all it is leading to a sort of hell on Earth, with climate change and environmental degradation. Are we stuck in a trap where our sins created The Machine and The Machine perpetuates our sins?
I must say I've never been too fond of the concept of sin though, may be more the idea of original sin, as it seems to black out the light that shines from within us. Our potential for love becomes shrouded by our potential for sin perhaps? Also I see in my children that if you focus love on this light the desire to shine dispels the shadows lingering on the periphery. Where as the guilt of sin makes the flame gutter.
I don't know how comfortable I am with my children doing their first confession right now! But I do see how the love of God can see them right!
Thanks for this Naomi. I've been pondering the same questions myself for some time, and I wouldn't like to say I have any solid answers (if such things even exist.)
One thing I come back to again and again is the etymology of the word 'sin.' It means 'to miss the mark' (it's originally a term from archery.) What is the mark? It is what the Orthodox call theosis - union with God. Or, perhaps, living according to God's will rather than your own: walking the narrow path to the strait gate. That's the mark. Daily we fall off the path.
What do we then do? We repent. The Greek word for that - 'metanoia' - translates as 'turn around' or 'change of heart.' I found this quote which might speak to you:
"[Metanoia] involves, that is, not mere regret of past evil but a recognition by man of a darkened vision of his own condition, in which sin, by separating him from God, has reduced him to a divided, autonomous existence, depriving him of both his natural glory and freedom."
So: we miss the mark, we turn around, we have change of heart, we try again. That's sin and repentance, as I understand it. Something else too: in the Orthodox tradition sin is not a moral failing, but a sickness. The church is a 'spiritual hospital' where we go to be treated, rather than a courtroom where we go to be condemned.
And finally: again in the Orthodox tradition, there is no 'original sin', as in a transgression that we all inherit responsibility for. There is, rather, 'ancestral sin' - the story that, at humanity's origins, we somehow fell away from God and into the self. We all inherit the consequences of that, but not personal responsibility for it.
If that fall away from unity with God and nature/creation is a fall into self and selfishness, then I think that you're right: what I'm calling the 'Machine' is a result of that fall. It's the inevitable result of us trying to run the world according to our human will, rather than God's.
Sin definitely darkens the potential for love. Hence repentance, confession, an attempt at living according to God's will by purging the passions. That's the way to see the love more clearly. Of course, this is all book learning for me. But you have to start somewhere ...
Wow! Thanks Paul. With the original meaning of the word sin and the concept of theosis it all falls into place! This is what my heart has been telling me for a long time; the empirical interconnectedness of all things that science is only just beginning to understand is what Christianity has been describing all along. I think I just had to realise that God was the light I saw in all of nature/created things. Am I right in thinking that what happened during the reformation was the 'Machine' modifying Christianity to suits its own ends? Perhaps that's why my childhood experience of church (I was brought up protestant) felt more like behaviour control than being unified with the world around me. Plus, when you can't see the beauty of God around you (concrete streets and chimney stacks -products of the self I suppose) it's hard to find God when you just keep seeing self.
To lose the union with God causes suffering on many levels then. Not just the internal emotional effects. And of course this is what's happening to the Earth. I can see this through my studies in Naturopathy. When a client presents at clinic with illness because they're eating processed food, leading a stressful life in the 'Machine' and being too sedentary; the illness is down to the loss of union with God?? I suppose as Naturopaths we try and re-establish the union using organic, seasonal food and herbs and a change in lifestyle. However, it does not address the spiritual need....perhaps this is why ancient traditional healers used spirituality as a means to cure. They perhaps weren't invoking a 'supernatural spirit' as is commonly understood but reuniting patients with God...this is just my conjecture though so I'd have to look into it more. I like the concept of the church being a 'spiritual hospital' but I suppose that fits with the passion I have for supporting human healing!
Thanks again Paul, if you have any recommended further reading I'd be very appreciative.