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SAINTS IN THE DESERT
Sainthood
Most of the men and women whom we call the Celtic saints were monks and nuns. What did they think about sainthood? Their viewpoint was different from ours, because most of Church history had not yet happened. There were only four or five centuries of Christian men and women who could serve as models for holy living, and the more heroic among them had been martyred. While early monks and nuns may have read the Acts of the Martyrs, these accounts focussed on a martyr’s death, rather than their life; they could not really be imitated.
Again, there were few models to imitate in the gospels: the first followers of Jesus are briefly described, but they are portrayed as disciples, rather than as people in their own right. We learn little about their personal holiness. The scriptures were written before monasteries existed, so where could models of holiness in a monastic context be found? St Paul does describe a Church in which virgins and widows have an accepted place; he does not, however, describe these women as people. To whom, then, did the Celtic saints look for examples of holy living?
Old Testament models
Celtic monks and nuns were deeply influenced by the Old Testament, since they were closer to it in time than we are. They were also, perhaps, better able to understand the mentalities and cultures of those who compiled the books within it. As Christians, of course, the gospels formed the foundation of their spiritual lives, and particular texts were held dear. Jesus had said ‘If you wish to be perfect, go and sell what you own and give the money to the poor, … then come, follow me’ (Mt. 19. 21),1 and this is what monks and nuns tried to do. They often lived in groups; they came together and listened to the word of God, in order to ‘be perfect’, ‘come’ and ‘follow’.
There was a model for this in the Old Testament: the First and Second Book of Kings describe brotherhoods of prophets who lived in the desert in quite large groups. Sometimes it is a group of fifty (2 Kgs. 2. 7; 17), under the leadership of someone wise and experienced, in this case Elijah, and his disciple Elisha, in the ninth century BC. Celtic monks could identify with a community who lived apart from society, under the authority of a holy person. As they listened to passages from scripture, read to them in church, day after day, they could connect with their Jewish-Christian heritage.
They knew that Jesus had pondered on the ministry of Elijah and Elisha, and had copied them too. Like Elisha, Jesus healed lepers, and he raised a widow’s son to life, as both prophets had done. Luke portrays Jesus challenging the people of Nazareth by likening himself to his two great predecessors:
There were many widows in Israel, I can assure you, in Elijah’s day, when heaven remained shut for three years and six months and a great famine raged throughout the land, but Elijah was not sent to any of these: he was sent to a widow at Zarephath, a Sidonian town. And in the prophet Elisha’s time there were many lepers in Israel, but none of these was cured, except the Syrian, Naaman (Lk. 4. 25–7).
When Jesus asked his disciples who people thought he might be, they replied: ‘some say John the Baptist, some Elijah … or one of the prophets’ (Mt. 16. 14).
Call to discipleship
Celtic monks would have resonated with the touching description of Elisha’s unexpected call to leave his family in order to serve God. They would have understood his initial hesitation, followed by his generous response. As Elijah passed by, wearing his ‘cloak of hair’ and ‘leather loincloth’ (2 Kgs. 1. 8), he threw his cloak over Elisha, to claim him for God. Elisha appears to have been the model for the ‘rich young man’ of Matthew 19. 21: as a wealthy farmer, he owned twelve yoke of oxen. Yet unlike the rich man in Matthew’s gospel who ‘went away sad, for he was a man of great wealth’, Elisha responded to Elijah’s invitation. Like each Celtic monk, he underwent conversion, and exchanged his yoke of oxen for a life of discipleship under the yoke of a holy man:
… [Elijah] came to Elisha son of Shaphat as he was ploughing behind twelve yoke of oxen, he himself being with the twelfth. Elijah passed near to him and threw his cloak over him. Elisha left his oxen and ran after Elijah. ‘Let me kiss my father and mother, then I will follow you,’ he said. Elijah answered, ‘Go, go back; for have I done anything to you?’ Elisha turned away, took the pair of oxen and slaughtered them. He used the plough for cooking the oxen, then gave to his men, who ate. He then rose, and followed Elijah and became his servant (1 Kgs. 19. 19–21).
The prophets model holiness
The so-called Elijah Cycle (1 Kgs. 17. 1 – 2 Kgs. 1. 18) and Elisha Cycle (2 Kgs. 2. 1 – 13. 21) recall the vitae, or Lives of Celtic saints: they were composed long after the deaths of their subjects, but they attempt to convey their core values and their holiness, for the edification of later generations of believers. We read of the miracles of Elijah and Elisha, which are often a compassionate response to the needs of a poor person or a local king. As in the vitae, the prophets are caught up in a world of intrigue and politics, and fearlessly challenge those in authority. Disciples are sent on errands by Elisha (2 Kgs. 9. 1–10), who himself learnt discipleship by washing the hands of Elijah (2 Kgs. 3. 11). The brotherhood makes simple mistakes: one of them unintentionally poisons the soup he has prepared, but Elisha makes it wholesome through his prayer (2 Kgs. 4. 38–41).
The Near Eastern Desert Fathers of the fourth century in some ways modelled their lives on these early prophets, and this may have been the reason that we find echoes of the prophets in the vitae of Celtic saints. In his Life of Antony, Athanasius records how ‘Antony said to himself: “It is by looking at what the great Elijah does, as in a mirror, that the ascetic can always know what his own life should be like”.’2 The story of Antony’s friend, Paul the Hermit, fed by a bird, reminds us of Elijah, whom God protects during a lengthy drought:
The word of the Lord came to [Elijah]: ‘Go away from here, go eastward and hide yourself in the wadi Cherith which lies east of Jordan. You can drink from the stream, and I have ordered the ravens to bring you food there.’ He did as the Lord had said; … The ravens brought him bread in the morning and meat in the evening, and he quenched his thirst at the stream (1 Kgs. 17. 2–6).
In the same way, according to Jerome’s Life of Paul, based on a Greek original, a raven brought half a loaf of bread each day to feed the hungry hermit.
Life in the desert
Elijah and Elisha were not the only Old Testament figures who offered inspiration to early Christians; if anything, life in the desert is a more constant theme. Discouraged by failure, Elijah journeys south through the desert, and climbs Mount Sinai. He hides in the cleft of the rock where Moses had crouched before him, and there God once again reveals his glory (1 Kgs. 19. 9; Ex. 33. 22). At the end of the Old Testament, the First Book of Maccabees, written in the second century BC, describes how the persecuted believers go and live in the desert:
Mattathias went through the town, shouting at the top of his voice, ‘Let everyone who has a fervour for the Law and takes his stand on the covenant come out and follow me.’ Then he fled with his sons to the hills, leaving all their possessions behind in the town. At this, many who were concerned for virtue and justice went down to the desert and stayed there (1 Mac. 2. 27–9).
While these various Old Testament figures may have provided role models for Celtic monks, they offer us few clues about what went on in the heads and hearts of Celtic holy men and women. What were their values, and what governed their behaviour? How did they learn holiness? How did they become saints? In order to address these questions, we shall now look more closely at the traditions of the Desert Mothers and Fathers, who ‘went down to the desert and stayed there’ from the mid-third century AD onwards.
The Saying of the Desert Fathers
The Desert Mothers and Fathers were saints who immediately preceded those of Celtic times, and profoundly influenced them. The Apothegmata, or Sayings of the Desert Fathers, are brief anecdotes which were handed down as useful guidelines and cherished memories of the holy men and women who lived in the Near Eastern deserts. Collections of their Sayings were popular throughout medieval times, and they offer a unique range of personal beliefs and testimonies. They were treasured as advice on how to acquire holiness, and because of their brevity they could be memorised and pondered.
Stability
A number of the Sayings address the issue of stability, which has concerned monks down the ages. First, each monk built his hut. This was the place where he would discover himself and discover God: ‘A brother came to Scetis to visit Abba Moses and asked him for a good word. The old man said to him: “Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything”.’3 It was not a good idea to move from place to place. ‘An old man said: “Just as a tree cannot bring forth fruit if it is always being transplanted, so the monk who is always going from one place to another is not able to bring forth virtue”.’4 If you stayed away from your cell, you would die, like a fish on dry land. Athanasius records that Antony said: ‘When fishes are out of water for some time, they die. So it is if monks stay a long time … out of their monastery’.5
Learning from others
However, you had to learn more about your new lifestyle somehow. You had to go and ask advice from those older and wiser than you. Dorotheus of Gaza said: ‘To stay in one’s hut is one half; and to go and see the old men is the other half’. It was a good idea to start off living as a disciple of one of them, so you could get a good grounding which would last a lifetime: ‘Abba Isaiah said … to those who were making a good beginning by putting themselves under the direction of the holy Fathers: “As with purple dye, the first colouring is never lost”.’6
Later, you might live on your own, but even then, if you began to lose your sense of direction and became hardened, it was a good idea to go and join a wiser person than you: ‘A brother asked Abba Paesios, “What should I do about my soul, because it is insensitive and does not fear God?” He replied, “Go and join a man who fears God, and live near him. He will teach you also to fear God”.’
But in general you should work out your own spiritual way, ascetic or less so, according to your temperament. ‘Abba Mark once said to Abba Arsenius, “It is good, is it not, to have nothing in your hut that gives you pleasure? For example, I once k...