Books: The Sayings of the Desert Fathers

This Lent, I decided to read The Sayings of the Desert Fathers, edited by Benedicta Ward, SLG.  I bought this book last May at the International Congress on Medieval Studies at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo.  My wife is currently pursuing her doctorate in history (and I think she's gaining on it), and her specific area of interest is medieval England.  For the past few years (three? four?) we have been attending the ICMS at Kalamazoo, and this past year we both presented papers: hers was on the Book of Hours belonging to Sir William Porter and what it reveals about him ("Affinity, Nationalism, and Religious Devotion"), and mine was on an eschatological perspective on JRR Tolkien's use of geography in his Middle Earth literature.  Sadly, we are not attending this year, as we have too many things on our plates, and too many plates in the air.

WMU is home to an Institute of Cistercian Studies, and there is a good showing of Cistercians at the ICMS each year.  One of the book vendors is Cistercian Publications.  It was at their booth last May that I found The Sayings of the Desert Fathers.  I don't tend to buy too many books at the ICMS because most of them are, to be honest, over my head and out of my realm of interest.  I do get a few each year, though.  Last year I also bought a commentary on Second Corinthians (by CCSS) and a book about the medieval literature behind the writing of JRR Tolkien, The Keys of Middle-Earth.

These books are in good company in my man-cave in the unfinished basement of our house.  A man-cave I have not spent much time in lately, because it's been winter, and because we sometimes get floods down there, and because my part of the basement is a federal disaster relief site.  It's a real mess.  Now that the temperature is warming up, I might be able to straighten it up a bit.  A lot.

But about my books.  I have a lot of books down there, but many of them are unread or barely started.  I've decided to create a virtual bookshelf program (using Google Books' API) so that my wife and I can keep track of the books we own, categorize them, log a history of which ones we're reading, how far we are, and when we've finished them.  With a simple program in place (and enhancements to come in time), I've resolved to enter the books I own into the system, read them, and make notes about them.

So that brings us to The Sayings of the Desert Fathers.  This 250 page alphabetical collection of sayings (not necessarily "wisdom" sayings, but sayings) from the eremitical men and women of the Egypt from the third through fifth centuries is the sort of book I like.  It introduces me to the writings and thoughts of people and potentially whets my appetite for more.  Case in point, my wife has suggested I read Athanasius' Life of St. Anthony, who has some 38 sayings in this book, four of which I marked as particularly meaningful to me.  The book is dog-eared and pencil-marked now: I put asterisks next to scriptural citations (for entry into a database later), and I turn down the corner of a page on which I find a saying that resonates with me, and draw a line down the margin next to it.

I imagine there are about two thousand sayings in this book, and they range from the utterly practical to the astonishingly absurd.  Some are amusing anecdotes about the trials of living as a well-known and sought-after hermit; a couple of these end up sounding like a fourth-century rendition of "Get off my lawn!"  Others are mind-blowing accounts of the severe ascetism of these secluded monks: eating only once every other day, fighting off sleep, not speaking a word unless it would be a sin not to do so (hospitality to one's neighbor — a funny concept among people living mostly solitary lives — was very big among the Desert Fathers and Mothers), and refusing to accept gifts or retain possessions.

Some are quite fantastic, like the story of Abba Sisoes of Calamon who, to avoid sleep, hung himself over a precipice.  It is related that "an angel came to take him down and ordered him not to do that again and not to transmit such teaching to others." (p. 219)  Others are quite mundane, like the story of Abba Macarius who had nothing in his cell but some stagnant water.  Two brothers noticed this and invited him to accompany them to a village where they would get clean water for him.  Abba Macarius asked if they knew the man who owned the bakery in the village; they did.  He asked if they knew of the field which lay adjacent to the river; they did.  Then he said to them, "I know it too.  So when I want to, I can go there myself, without your help."

A simple "No thanks" would have sufficed!

There are many real gems among these sayings as well.  Love of neighbor as love of Christ comes up often.  The radical nature of life for Christ alone, to the exclusion of virtually every worldly comfort, is a constant theme.  And then there are frequent reminders that we should be concerned for, and weep for, our own sins, rather than judge another person.  I was surprised at the sort of laissez-faire attitude towards sin that several of these sayings contain, along the lines of "If you see a brother sinning, say nothing to him."  A brother is being judged by the other brethren, and the abba shows up and asks to be judged too; or the abba appears carrying a large sack of sand on his back and holding a small satchel of sand in front of him: "In this sack with contains much sand, are my sins which are many; I have put them behind me so as not to be troubled about them and so as not to weep; and see here are the little sins of my brother which are in front of me and I spend my time judging them." (Abba Pior, p. 199)

I found one saying near the end of the book that aligns with the popular saying, "hate the sin, love the sinner."  Amma Syncletica says, "Hate sickness but not the sick person." (p. 233)  There were also striking encounters with sinners (often harlots) wherein the abba converts the sinner by sorrow for his or her life of sin and concern for his or her immortal soul.

There is practical wisdom to be found as well.  Abba Silvanus said, "Unhappy is the man whose reputation is greater than his work." (p. 224)  Abba Pambo lamented that a courtesan had greater desire to please wicked men than he had to please God. (p. 196)  Abba Poemen states matter-of-factly that "where there are enemies, I become a solider." (p. 194)

A few sayings remind me of the encounter between Jean Valjean and the bishop in Les misérables.  Valjean is shown hospitality by the bishop but in return steals some silverware and runs off in the night.  When Valjean is apprehended by lawmen and returned to the bishop, the bishop insists that the silver was a gift.  Not having read the book, but having seen the musical (does that count?), the event is told in this way:

Constables: Tell his reverence your story, let us see if he's impressed.
You were lodging here last night; you were the honest bishop's guest.
And then out of Christian goodness, when he learned about your plight,
You maintain he made a present of this silver.

Bishop:                                                               That is right.
But my friend you left so early, surely something slipped your mind.
You forgot I gave these also.  Would you leave the best behind?
So messieurs, you may release, for this man has spoken true.
I commend you for your duty: may God's blessing go with you.

And remember this, my brother: see in this some higher plan.
You must use this precious silver to become an honest man.
By the witness of the martyrs, by the Passion and the Blood,
God has raised you out of darkness.  I have bought your soul for God.

This is the sort of reaction some of the abbas have toward a brother who is sinning.  One brother is suspected of having given into the temptation of fornication, and the other brothers decide to search his cell for the woman.  The local abba, Ammonas, knowing what has happened, enters the cell first and sits upon a barrel; he knows the brother has hid the woman inside.  He lets the other brothers in to search the cell, but they do not find the woman.  When they leave, Abba Ammonas takes the brother by the hand and says, "Brother, be on your guard." (p. 28)  Other stories relate how an abba, upon seeing his cell being raided by thieves, would not cry out in alarm, but assist the thieves in stowing what little possessions he had on their camel.

Clearly this way of life is not for everyone.  The extreme asceticism and the "look the other way" mentality do not apply to every situation of life.  Still, there is a great deal to be learned from these wise (and probably thin) men and women of the desert.  They emphasize the need to cast off vices and grow in virtue, preferably in all the virtues a little, rather than in one particular virtue a lot.  They praise obedience and humility.

I give Abba Silvanus the last remark.  Abba Moses asked him, "Can a man lay a new foundation every day?" Abba Silvanus replied, "If he works hard, he can lay a new foundation at every moment." (p. 224)

Filling the void with books!

I'm finding it difficult to blog regularly lately.  It's probably because I read a lot of blogs and comment on a few of them fairly often, and I tweet, and I'm writing a book on the Eucharistic Prayers... oh yeah, and I have a wife and a job and a dog and teach Confirmation students.

So the blog has suffered a lot because of that.  Just look at the past few months:

• February - 1 post
• January - 1 post
• December - 4 posts
• November - 4 posts
• October - 4 posts

I only posted 54 times in 2011, less than half of 2010's output, which was less than a third of 2009's output!  True, some of my posts have been short and a bit mundane, but I just don't write here much anymore.  I've got tons of "series" of blog posts which are stagnant, and a lot which never really ever got started.  I've also got two other blogs (related to the new liturgical translation) which haven't had much going on lately.

So, facing the decision of 1) not changing my blogging habits, 2) increasing my blogging, or 3) stopping blogging here altogether, I'm going to try #2.  I'm going to blog about the books I'm reading, because if there's one thing I have a lot of, it's unread books on Christianity!  I wouldn't call these book reviews, per se, although I'll tag them as such for good measure.

My first installment will be on The Sayings of the Desert Fathers translated by Benedicta Ward, SLG.

Book Review: Why God Matters

A deacon and daughter duo — Dcn. Steve Lumbert (a convert) and Karina Lumbert Fabian (a cradle Catholic) — have written a pleasant and spiritually uplifting book on recognizing God in everyday life, Why God Matters.  It's a quick read, and because of that, I think it's likely to catch you off-guard.

Through fourteen chapters, the authors bring you through "the long religious slog of the everyday" (Walt Staples (President of the Catholic Writers Guild), dust jacket) and relate how they found God operating in the seemingly unremarkable events of their lives.  Instead of taking the approach of systematic theology, they share steps of their journey of faith that brought them closer to God — or rather, that reminded them of just how close God is to them.

From Deacon Steve, I was reminded that the faith is not something to merely be "observed" (like President's Day); instead, "God must be an active part of our lives." (Chapter 1)  During his teenage years he and his brothers were known as trouble-makers, a reputation which landed them in a jail cell for a day... for a crime they didn't commit.  The experience inspired him later in life to teach his children "about honesty, integrity, truth, and resisting temptation" (Chapter 3), something I think we can all relate to.

His sensible words about balancing his life as a deacon (between marriage, work, and the diaconate) is especially timely for me:  "It's not easy to keep balance. ... The temptation to overextend myself by saying yes to everything is strong."  When we find ourselves biting off more than we can chew, we should ask ourselves, "What has God given [me] as [my] first vocation?" (Chapter 11)  Finally, the patience of a friend in an airport reminded him of God's unmatchable patience with us:  "Like a good friend, God waits patiently for us at journey's end." (Chapter 13)

His daughter challenges us to stop being martyrs over trivialities and lay our cares and worries upon the Lord.  When she senses herself making mountains out of molehills, she says this simple prayer:  "Lord, let this end in me now." (Chapter 4)  By learning how to pace herself throughout the day, she finds peace throughout her week, and Sundays become a day of rejoicing rather than refueling.  Her advice to pacing yourself spiritually includes committing yourself to Confession at least once a quarter, and then once a month; and in order to help your family follow your example, "Gently lead them from the front rather than push them from behind." (Chapter 10)  When it comes to dealing with a family member who does not believe in God (another situation I can relate to), she candidly admits, "it scares me as nothing has ever scared me before."  What's her response?  "I pray for him ... and I make small sacrifices on his behalf."  Instead of despairing, she loves and gives an example of hope. (Chapter 14)

But her most stunning advice comes in Chapter 12.  For her, a "personal relationship" with Jesus Christ doesn't quite cut it.  "It smacks to me of name-dropping," she says.  She identifies the ways that a "personal relationship" for humans falls short of the sort of relationship we're called to have with God.  Even the closest friends keep things private from one another in their relationships:  "Do I want limits on my relationship with God?"  Personal relationships include trivial banter, but "I am not a peer with God."  And then there's the inevitable give-and-take of our human relationships — "once in a while, the other person will be weak" — but that's not the case with God.

Karina challenges us to have a relationship with God that is "more than personal," a relationship that lets God be God and reminds us that we're not!  The "life lesson" of the chapter asks, "Does [your relationship] encompass all of God, or is it the 'personal' relationship of 'my buddy Jesus,' or the aloof spiritual relationship of an untouchable deity?"

I'll be honest:  I usually read books with "closely reasoned theology" and "appeal[s] to ancient writers of the Church" (Walt Staples), which sometimes leave other readers feeling cold.  This book came out of left field and reminds me to breathe with both lungs, to think with head and heart.  It has reminded me to look for God in the everyday.  It has pointed out to me that God is not just a matter to discuss:  God matters.

Book Review: The Crucified Rabbi by Taylor Marshall

I finished The Crucified Rabbi: Judaism and the Origins of Catholic Christianity by Taylor R. Marshall this morning before Mass.  This is the first in his "Origins of Catholic Christianity" trilogy.

In thirteen chapters, Marshall takes us through shared concepts of Judaism and Catholicism, providing the Jewish origin (or at least precedent) for the Catholic concept, practice, or belief.  Some are more readily apparent than others:  Messiah and Christ mean the same thing, for example.  Others might surprise you:  the ritual Tevilah washing and the sacrament of Baptism, or the Jewish Nazirites and Catholic monastics.  Marshall quotes from Scripture, rabbinic sources, and the historical accounts of Josephus and others, giving a clear and consistent picture of the development of these facets of Catholicism from their Jewish roots.

The book is an easy and quick read.  It's educational and informative without sounding too technical or academic.  It has its share of typos, but nothing too serious.  An appendix contains some 300 Old Testament prophecies fulfilled in Jesus Christ.

If you are looking for a book to help you fill in the gaps between the Old and New Covenants, or if you're looking for an accessible resource to share with a Jewish friend curious about the claims of Christianity, I recommend The Crucified Rabbi.

Excellent resource on the Eucharistic Prayers and many Prefaces

I bought a copy of A Commentary on the Prefaces and the Eucharistic Prayers of the Roman Missal recently and started reading it yesterday.  It's part of my research for my second book on the Mass, Praying the Mass: The Prayers of the Priest.  It's out of print, but I bought a copy through Eighth Day Books.  The book is by Msgr. Louis Soubigou, translated by Rev. John A. Otto in 1971 for The Liturgical Press.  The content seems quite orthodox, and many of the comments in the text present a decent picture of the liturgical and reform-related turmoil of the late 60's and early 70's:

"Constant recourse to the official Latin text [of the Prefaces] is particular necessary in this commentary because it is a translation from the French.  The author develops his observations from the official Latin readings and the French version, which normally remains very faithful to the original.  After comparing the American ICEL version of the Preface of the Holy Trinity (page 144) with the original Latin text, one may decide for himself the degree of its fidelity." (Introduction, p. 4)

"P.S. This Preface [for the Sacred Heart] (and for that matter the feast as a whole) has its gainsayers among the 'litniks.'  For them an aura of uncongeniality seems to haunt its thought and expression, particularly the effort 'to offer homage of reparation to the disdained and disregarded love of Christ.'  It may be difficult to see how this motif fits into traditional liturgy — but why make this appeal to tradition when traditional liturgy as such is likewise being discredited and discarded?" (Preface of the Sacred Heart, p. 125)

I'm skimming the Prefaces; I'll be reading in detail the second part, on the Eucharistic Prayers.  I recommend this book to anyone interested in learning about the doctrinal and spiritual content of the Prefaces and Eucharistic Prayers.

Another glowing review of Praying the Mass

Here are a few excerpts from the latest review of Praying the Mass: The Prayers of the People, by Rev. Michael Cullinan in the April 2010 issue of The Sower.

Jeffrey Pinyan, an American layman, has written and published (privately, it would appear) an extremely good guide to the Mass, based on the forthcoming English translation. [...]

This is a work of liturgical, indeed mystagogical, catechesis, of the sort that is very much needed today. [...] Pinyan adopts a hermeneutic of continuity with tradition, citing works from the Douay Catechism of 1649 through Richard Challoner and Joseph Ratzinger to, most recent, a 2007 work by Thomas Kocik. [...]

[...] Pinyan goes slowly through the Mass in 12 chapters, from the fast before Mass to the mission we receive at the Dismissal.  Each chapter ends with ‘Questions for Reflection’ which are often thought provoking and do not simply lead back to the text for answers. [...] The text is attractive, easy to read, and remarkably free from typographical errors. [...]

A short review cannot do justice to all the things one can learn from this book. [...] Errors and omissions are hard to find [but their] extremely minor nature [...] only goes to show the quality of this work, which I am happy to commend warmly as an excellent and very widely useful piece of modern liturgical and catechetical writing.

Powerful Lenten Reading

If you've read C.S. Lewis's The Screwtape Letters, I strongly recommend that you buy a copy of Fr. Dwight Longenecker's The Gargoyle Code and read it this Lent.  The book is written in the style and genre of Screwtape, in the form of letters from a senior tempter to a junior.  There is a letter for every day of Lent, so it makes for simply daily "devotional" reading.

You will not be disappointed... in the book.  It may make you disappointed in yourself, as you see the book slowly revealing how Satan might be influencing you — rather than just the fictional (?) persons whom Slubgrip and Dogwart seek to ruin — in parts of your life.  (I made it to the bottom of page 7 before I was convicted.)  But don't let that disappointment get you down; instead, turn to the Lord and seek His grace, without which there is no overcoming these temptations which the Devil so craftily prepares for us.  Now is a most acceptable time, now is the day of salvation!

Book: The Practice of the Presence of God, by Brother Lawrence

I got a copy of this book three years ago and never really read it. I received another copy as a gift at Christmas. I'm almost done with it, and I decided to compare it to my previous copy. I feel compelled to warn you about the first copy I got.

The 1982 publication by Whitaker House is not very good at all. It is a loose paraphrase. In the words of the publisher's preface: "In this abridged edition, we have sought to update and clarify the language of this Christian classic, paraphrasing where necessary, while keeping the essence of the message intact." It goes way overboard. It excises several passages, some of which are distinctly Catholic:

• mention of praying at set times throughout the day (in his Carmelite monastery) in Conversation #2
• a reference to receiving absolution through a confessor in Conversation #2
• references in Conversation #2 to acts of mortification are corrupted; Br. Lawrence spoke of "bodily mortifications" as "useless, except as they serve to arrive at the union with God by love" and that "all possible kinds of mortification, if they were void of the love of God, could not efface a single sin." (pp. 21-22) The Whitaker version renders these two separate clauses as one, "that all possible good works or self-abasing acts of contrition we could possibly do would not erase a single sin." (p. 18)
• a quote from Br. Lawrence at the end of Conversation #4 in which he mentions kneeling in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament

It also re-orders his 15 letters, damaging them in the process:

• Whitaker's Letter #6 appears to be completely fabricated
• Br. Lawrence's 11th and 13th letters are missing completely, probably because they praise the salvific quality of suffering and bearing suffering joyfully
• Br. Lawrence's 14th and 15th letters are merged into one, retaining only the first sentence of letter #14

The new copy I have, from Spire, is far better.

Upon inspection of the original French text (which I haven't found online all in one place), the Spire translation is exceptionally faithful to the French:

• "qu'il n'avait pas besoin de directeur, mais bien d'un confesseur pour recevoir l'absolution de ses fautes qu'il faisait" (Conversation 2)
• "toutes les pénitences et autres exercices n'étaient utiles que dans la mesure ou ils servaient à amener l'union avec Dieu par amour" (Conversation 2)
• "toutes les pénitences possibles, si elles étaient séparées de l'amour, elles ne serviraient pas à effacer un seul péché." (Conversation 2)

And Conversation 4 ends with a clear reference to the Blessed Sacrament:

On ne le voyait jamais agir en hâte ; mais avec une juste modération, il donnait à chaque chose le temps qu'il lui fallait, conservant toujours son air modeste et tranquille, travaillant sans lenteur et sans précipitation, demeurant dans une même égalité d'esprit et dans une paix inaltérable. "Le temps de l'action, disait-il, n'est point différent de celui de l'oraison, je possède Dieu aussi tranuillement dans le tracas de ma cuisine, où quelquefois plusieurs personnes me demandent en même temps des choses différentes, que si j'étais à genoux devant le Saint-Sacrement."

Book Review: "The Fathers" by Pope Benedict XVI

In early November, I purchased The Fathers by Pope Benedict XVI (ISBN: 978-1592764402). It is a collection of weekly audiences he gave over the course of about a year on 26 Fathers of the Church, from Pope St. Clement I to the ubiquitous St. Augustine. In the span of 200 pages (an average of less than 8 pages per Father), His Holiness talks about the lives of these men, the times they lived in, and the things they wrote. The chapters are quick and easy reading, given the Pope's fluid style of writing and speaking. The book can be absorbed all in one sitting, or spaced over days or weeks. (I read two Fathers a day, a very leisurely pace.)

If you are looking for a primer on the thoughts of the early builders of the Church's sacramental, ecclesial, and spiritual theology, I strongly recommend this book. It works as a refresher for someone who has been away from the lives and writings of these men for some time just as well as it works as an introductory course (taught by the Pope, no less!) for the beginner. If you have considered starting to get into patristic writing (such as is found at CCEL or New Advent), read this book first.

If you prefer to read things digitally (or you just need to save a few bucks), you can find the Pope's addresses online as well. Start here (beginning with Pope St. Clement of Rome from 7 March 2007) and work your way here (ending with St. Augustine from 9 January 2008 through 27 February 2008). You can keep reading, too, because although the book ends with St. Augustine, Pope Benedict continued his weekly audiences on ten more people (from Pope St. Leo the Great on 5 March 2008 to St. Maximus the Confessor on 25 June 2008).