Desert Fathers

Daniel the disciple of Arsenius used to talk also about a hermit in Scetis, saying that he was a great man but simple in the faith, and in his ignorance he thought and said that the bread which we receive is not in very truth the Body of Christ, but a symbol of His Body. Two of the monks heard what he said but because they knew of his sublime works and labours, they imagined that he had said it in innocence and simple-mindedness; and so they came to him and said unto him, ‘Abba, someone told us something that we do not believe; he said that this bread that we receive is not in very truth the Body of Christ, but a mere symbol.’ He said to them, ‘I said that.’ They begged him, saying, ‘You mustn’t say that, abba; according to what the Catholic Church has handed down to us, even so do we believe, that is to say, this bread is the Body of Christ in very truth, and is not a mere symbol. It is the same as when God took dust from the earth, and made man in His image; just as no one can say that he is not the image of God, so also with the bread of which He said, “This is My Body” is not to be regarded as a merely commemorative thing; we believe that it is indeed the Body of Christ.’ The hermit said, ‘Unless I can be convinced by the thing itself I will not listen to this.’ Then the monks said to him, ‘Let us pray to God all week about this mystery, and we believe that He will reveal the truth to us.’ The hermit agreed to this with great joy, and each went to his cell. Then the hermit prayed, saying, ‘O Lord, you know that it is not out of wickedness that I do not believe, so in order that I may not go astray through ignorance, reveal to me, Lord Jesus Christ, the truth of this mystery.’ The other two brothers prayed to God and said, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, give this hermit understanding about this mystery, and we believe that he will not be lost.’ God heard the prayer of the two monks. When the week was over they came to the church, and the three of them sat down by themselves on one seat, the hermit between the other two. The eyes of their understanding were opened, and when the time of the mysteries arrived, and the bread was laid upon the holy table, there appeared to the three of them as it were a child on the table. Then the priest stretched out his hand to break the bread, and behold the angel of the Lord came down from heaven with a knife in his hand, and he killed the child and pressed out his blood into the cup. When the priest broke off from the bread small pieces, the hermit went forward to receive communion and a piece of living flesh smeared and dripping with blood was given to him. Now when he saw this he was afraid and he cried out loudly, saying, ‘Lord, I believe that the bread is Your Body, and that the cup is Your Blood.’ At once the flesh that was in his hand became bread, and he took it and gave thanks to God. The brothers said to him, ‘God knows the nature of men, and that we are unable to eat living flesh, and so He turneth His Body into bread, and His Blood into wine for those who receive Him in faith.’ Then they gave thanks to God for the hermit, because He had not let Satan destroy him, and the three of them went back to their cells joyfully.

There once came from the city of Rome a monk who had held a high place in the palace. He lived near the church in Scetis, and had with him a servant to take care of him. The priest of the church saw that he was weak and knew that he was used to comfort: and so he passed on to him whatever the Lord gave to him or to the church. After he had lived in Scetis for twenty-five years, he became well known as a man of prayer who had the spirit of prophecy. One of the great Egyptian monks heard of his reputation and came to see him in the hope that he would find there a more austere way of life. He came into his cell and greeted him; after they had prayed they sat down. But the Egyptian saw he had soft clothing, and a bed of reeds, and a blanket under him, and a little pillow under his head, and clean feet with sandals, and he was inwardly contemptuous. In Scetis they never used to live like this, but practised sterner austerity. But the old Roman, with his gift of prayer and insight, saw that the Egyptian monk was shocked to the core. So he said to his servant: ‘Make us a good meal today, for this abba who has come.’ He cooked the few vegetables that he had, and they ate at the proper hour: he had a little wine because of his weakness, and they drank that. In the evening they said twelve psalms, and went to sleep afterwards; they did the same in the night. In the morning the Egyptian got up and left, and saying, ‘Pray for me,’ he went away, not at all impressed. When he had gone a little way the old Roman wanted to heal his mind, and sent after him and called him back. He said: ‘What is your province?’ He answered, ‘I am an Egyptian.’ He said, ‘Of what city?’ He answered, ‘Of no city, I never lived in a city.’ He said, ‘Before you were a monk, how did you earn your living?’ He answered, ‘I was a herdsman.’ He said to him, ‘Where did you sleep?’ He answered, ‘In the fields.’ He said, ‘Had you a mattress?’ He answered, ‘Why should I have a mattress for sleeping in a field?’ He said, ‘So how did you sleep?’ He replied, ‘On the ground.’ He said, ‘What did you eat when you were in the fields? What wine did you drink?’ He answered, ‘What kind of food and drink do you find in a field?’ He said, ‘How then did you live?’ He answered, ‘I ate dry bread, and salt fish if there was any, and I drank water.’ Then the Roman said, ‘A hard life,’ and he added, ‘Was there a bath on the farm where you worked?’ The Egyptian said, ‘No: I washed in the river, when I wanted to.’ When the hermit had extracted these answers, and knew how the Egyptian lived and worked before he became a monk, he wanted to help him: and so he described his own past life in the world. ‘This wretch in front of you came from the great city of Rome, where I had an important post at the palace in the Emperor’s service.’ When the Egyptian heard this first sentence, he was moved, and began to listen attentively. He went on, ‘So I left Rome, and came into this desert. I, whom you see, had great houses and wealth and I scorned them, and came to this little cell. I, whom you see, had beds decked with gold, with costly coverings: and instead of them God gave me this bed of reeds and this blanket. My clothes were rich and expensive: and instead of them I wear these tatters.’ He went on, ‘I used to spend much money on my dinner table and instead of it He has given me these few vegetables and this little cup of wine. Many servants used to wait upon me, and instead the Lord has given one man alone to look after me. Instead of a bath I dip my feet in a little bowl of water, and I use sandals because of my infirmity. For the pipe and the lyre and all the varieties of music which used to delight me at dinner I say twelve psalms in the day, and twelve psalms in the night. For the sins which once I committed, I now offer this poor and useless service to God in quietness. See then, abba, do not be scornful of my weakness.’ When the Egyptian had listened to him, he came to his senses and said, ‘I am a fool. I came from a hard life of labour to be at rest in the monk’s way of life and now I have what I didn’t have before. But you have come of your own accord to this hard life, and have left the comforts of the world; you came from honour and wealth to loneliness and poverty.’ So he went away with much profit; and he became his friend, and used to go to the old man for his soul’s good, for Arsenius (this was his name) was a man of discernment, and full of the fragrance of the Holy Spirit.

Daniel used to say that Arsenius told him a story, as if he were speaking of some other man, and it went like this: Whilst a certain hermit was sitting in his cell, a voice came to him which said, ‘Come here, and I will show you the works of the children of men,’ so he got up and went out. The voice led him out and showed him a black man cutting wood; he made up a large bundle and wanted to take it away, but he could not do so. Then instead of making the bundle smaller, he went and cut down some more wood, and added it to the first, and this he did many times. When he had gone on a little further, the voice showed him a man who was standing by a pit drawing up water; he poured it out into a certain hollowed-out place, and when he had poured the water into it, it ran down back into the pit. Again the voice said to him, ‘Come, and I will show you other things.’ Then he looked, and, behold, there was a temple, and two men on horseback were carrying a piece of wood as wide as the temple between them. They wanted to go in through the door, but the width of the wood did not let them do so, and they would not humble themselves to go in one after his companion to bring it in end-wise, and so they remained outside the door. Now these are the men who bear the yoke of righteousness with boasting, and they will not be humble enough to correct themselves and go in by the humble way of Christ, and therefore they remain outside the kingdom of God. The man who was cutting wood is the man who labours at many sins, and who, instead of repenting and diminishing his sins, adds other wickednesses to them. Now he who was drawing water is the man who does good works, but because other things are mingled in his good works they are lost. It is right for us to be watchful in all we do, lest we toil in vain.

[Syncletica] also said, ‘When the devil does not use the goad of poverty to tempt us, he uses wealth for the same purpose. When he cannot win by scorn and mockery, he tries praise and flattery. If he cannot win by giving health, he tries illness. If he cannot win by comfort, he tries to ruin the soul by vexations that lead us to act against our monastic vows. He inflicts severe sicknesses on people whom he wants to tempt and so makes them weak, and thereby shakes the love they feel towards God. But although the body is shattered and running a high temperature and thirsting unbearably, yet you, who endure all this, are a sinner; you should therefore remember the punishments of the next world, the everlasting fire, the torments of judgement. Then you will not fail in the sufferings of this present time, indeed you should rejoice because God has visited you. Keep saying the famous text: “The Lord hath chastened and corrected me: but he hath not given me over unto death” (Ps. 118:18). Iron is cleaned of rust by fire. If you are righteous and suffer, you grow to a higher sanctity. Gold is tested by fire. When a messenger from Satan is given to you to be a thorn in your flesh, lift up your heart, for you have received a gift like that of St Paul. If you suffer from fever and cold, remember the text of Scripture, “We went through fire and water,” and “thou broughtest us out into a place of rest” (Ps. 66:12). If you have overcome suffering, you may expect rest, provided you are following what is good. Cry aloud the prophet’s words, “I am poor and destitute and in misery” (Ps. 66:29). Threefold suffering like this shall make you perfect. He said also, “Thou hast set me at liberty when I was in trouble” (Ps. 4:1). So let this kind of self-discipline test our souls, for our enemy is always in sight.’