Citydesert

The early morning is the time that I most feel the blessing of The Hermitage. The vividly coloured stained glass in and around the front door bursts into light from the rising sun, somewhat startling the sleepy Hermit emerging from his cell.

The back garden starts to awaken. The night silence is broken by bird calls – magpies, currawongs, noisy miner birds beginning to feed on the nectar of flowers on the trees, the occasional cockatoo or lorikeet. A few fruit bats, making a delayed return to the palm trees in the large park onto which The Hermitage backs, squeaking as they fly home.

And only a gentle hum of traffic to remind me that The Hermitage is in a suburb close to the centre of Australia’s largest city.
It is the best time to walk around the enclosed gardens, enjoying the trees, including a giant camellia, an hibiscus, a gardenia, a huge palm tree, and a stand of giant Bird of Paradise (Strelitzia).

It is also time to look at the herbs and vegetables: we now have chokos, parsley (various types), mint (various types), tomatoes (various types), basil (various types), globe artichokes, lettuce (various types), spinach (various types), rosemary, beetroot, Warrigal Greens (a native Australian bush food), peas, lovage, comfry, lemongrass and more. There are citrus trees: orange, lemon, and kaffir lime, and an ancient persimmon tree about to burst into leaf and, later, copious almost sickly sweet fruit (an obsessive favourite of the fruit bats).
Amongst recent additions to the herb collection is wormwood (Artemisa absinthium), now growing enthusiastically in the front garden. Given time, “St Cedd’s Absinthe” could be in production! We recently planted a weird small tree [Rungia klossii] from Papua New Guinea which has leaves substituting for the flavour of mushrooms and a grassy herb [Santolina rosmarinifolia] with leaves substituting for the flavour of olives. The black passionfruit has gone completely mad, covering the entire back fence and gate, and the bananas are thriving.

As Spring arrives, those parts of the garden that have been somewhat bare throughout Winter are about to be planted anew. More herbs and vegetables, ferns and semi-tropical plants. Six Dogwood trees (with their beautiful deep red wood) have been delivered to create a hedge along the front path. Plants left outside during Winter are being “repaired” and made ready to be brought inside. The five tomato plants (each a different variety) recently planted are thriving in the Spring sunshine, and enjoying being “companion planted” with basil. The deck is covered with plants in pots awaiting their final destinations!

The paved area in the depths of the garden (memories of the movingly magnificent “In the Depths of the Temple” from Bizet’s opera, “The Pearlfishers”!) is a perfect setting for prayer, reflection and “lectio divina”. And breakfast! But, mostly, to give thanks for living in this place.

The early Desert Hermits were essentially culinary ecologists. Apart from the little that they could cultivate in the desert, they were foragers, harvesting the plants that grew locally and naturally. Although a desert may seem an unlikely place to find anything useful as food, those “with eyes to see” and adequate knowledge will find food and water.

While foraging may seem practical in rural hermitages, it sounds inherently unrealistic in urban settings. Again, this is a problem of perception and knowledge. There is a growing interest in urban foraging as a means of enhancing self-sufficiency.

Fr Edward has been applying his horticultural qualifications to foraging in local parks, nature strips and along railway lines. Bunches of plants (currently dandelions) are hanging in The Hermitage kitchen windows to dry.

See further:
Rebecca Lerner “Dandelion Hunter: Foraging The Urban Wilderness” [Globe Pequot Press; 2013]

“In this engaging and eye-opening read, forager-journalist Becky Lerner sets out on a quest to find her inner hunter-gatherer in the city of Portland, Oregon. After a disheartening week trying to live off wild plants from the streets and parks near her home, she learns the ways of the first people who lived there and, along with a quirky cast of characters, discovers an array of useful wild plants hiding in plain sight. As she harvests them for food, medicine, and just-in-case apocalypse insurance, Lerner delves into anthropology, urban ecology and sustainability, and finds herself looking at Nature in a very different way. Humorous, philosophical, and informative, “Dandelion Hunter” has something for everyone, from the curious neophyte to the seasoned forager.”

Gary Lincoff “The Joy of Foraging: Gary Lincoff’s Illustrated Guide to Finding, Harvesting, and Enjoying a World of Wild Food” [Quarry Books, 2012]

“Discover the edible riches in your backyard, local parks, woods, and even roadside! In “The Joy of Foraging”, Gary Lincoff shows you how to find fiddlehead ferns, rose hips, beach plums, bee balm, and more, whether you are foraging in the urban jungle or the wild, wild woods. You will also learn about fellow foragers—experts, folk healers, hobbyists, or novices like you—who collect wild things and are learning new things to do with them every day. Along with a world of edible wild plants—wherever you live, any season, any climate—you’ll find essential tips on where to look for native plants, and how to know without a doubt the difference between edibles and toxic look-alikes. There are even ideas and recipes for preparing and preserving the wild harvest year-round—all with full-color photography.”

David Craft “Urban Foraging – Finding and eating wild plants in the city [Service Berry Press, 2010]

“Urban Foraging walks readers through the seasons, discussing what plants in the city are edible and which parts are the tastiest. It includes recipes and anecdotes – historical and personal – and special sections on herbal teas, edible garden weeds, mushrooms and more.”

Ava Chin “Eating Wildly. Foraging for Life, Love and the Perfect Meal” [Simon & Schuster, 2014]

“In this touching and informative memoir about foraging for food in New York City, Ava Chin finds sustenance…and so much more. Urban foraging is the new frontier of foraging for foods, and it’s all about eating better, healthier, and more sustainably, no matter where you live. “Time” named foraging the “latest obsession of haute cuisine.” And while foraging may be the latest foodie trend, the quest to connect with food and nature is timeless and universal.
Ava Chin, aka the “Urban Forager,” is an experienced master of the quest. Raised in Queens, New York, by a single mother and loving grandparents, Chin takes off on an emotional journey to make sense of her family ties and romantic failures when her beloved grandmother dies. She retreats into the urban wilds, where parks and backyards provide not only rare and delicious edible plants, but a wellspring of wisdom.
As the seasons turn, Chin begins to view her life with new “foraging eyes,” experiencing the world as a place of plenty and variety, where every element—from flora to fauna to fungi—is interconnected and interdependent. Her experiences in nature put her on a path to self-discovery, leading to reconciliation with her family and finding true love.
Divided into chapters devoted to a variety of edible/medicinal plants, with recipes and culinary information, “Eating Wildly” will stir your emotions and enliven your taste buds—a moving memoir about the importance of family, relationships, and food.”
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But urban foraging is no longer merely an interest of the eccentric Hermit. It has moved – in many large cities, like Sydney – into the domain of leading chefs, as the following extract from an article about foraging in Sydney – “Urban foraging: uncovering the secret fruits of the city” – demonstrates:

“Mike Eggert was recently asked about a garnish on one of the dishes he cooked. The chef had foraged it himself, picking the young, tender dandelion leaves from the grounds of an old, abandoned mental asylum where they don’t spray pesticides, and everything is left to get a little wild: no cars, no chemicals. One lady at the dinner, it turned out, regularly walks her dog there. “Oh!” she said. “Isn’t it going to be covered in dog piss?”
Every table in the restaurant stopped eating. Eggert found himself thinking: are you guys kidding? With the way most food is produced these days, piss is the least of your worries. Instead he said: “Everything is covered in piss. I don’t want to eat anything that hasn’t had the opportunity to be covered in piss by something. Do you really want your food to come from such a sterile and plastic environment that it’s never had the chance to be exposed to a living animal, whether it’s a fly, a bee, a dog, a bird? That should be your barometer. If it’s had something urinate on it, it’s good to eat.””
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/australia-food-blog/2013/sep/12/urban-foraging-food-city

See further:
http://thefoodsage.com.au/2012/10/14/food-foraging-in-the-wilds-of-western-sydney/
http://restaurant.australia.com/explore/National/Experiences/foraging-australian-style.html

St Basil of Caesarea: Letter 93: To the Patrician Cæsaria, concerning Communion.

“It is good and beneficial to communicate every day, and to partake of the holy body and blood of Christ. For He distinctly says, He that eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life. John 6:54 And who doubts that to share frequently in life, is the same thing as to have manifold life. I, indeed, communicate four times a week, on the Lord’s day, on Wednesday, on Friday, and on the Sabbath, and on the other days if there is a commemoration of any Saint. It is needless to point out that for anyone in times of persecution to be compelled to take the communion in his own hand without the presence of a priest or minister is not a serious offense, as long custom sanctions this practice from the facts themselves. All the solitaries in the desert, where there is no priest, take the communion themselves, keeping communion at home. And at Alexandria and in Egypt, each one of the laity, for the most part, keeps the communion, at his own house, and participates in it when he likes. For when once the priest has completed the offering, and given it, the recipient, participating in it each time as entire, is bound to believe that he properly takes and receives it from the giver. And even in the church, when the priest gives the portion, the recipient takes it with complete power over it, and so lifts it to his lips with his own hand. It has the same validity whether one portion or several portions are received from the priest at the same time.”
http://newadvent.org/fathers/3202093.htm

I accompanied Father Edward on a visit to the (Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia) Our Lady of Kazan Convent at Kentlyn (an outer suburb of Sydney). We were graciously received by Abbess Maria, who kindly invited us to join her and the Nuns for luncheon.

A Monastery was established on the present site in the early 1950’s, and a monastic building and the All Saints Church were erected. The late 1950’s saw the arrival from China of an enormous wave of refugees, including those in monastic orders. The monastic buildings were given to Nuns in the late 1950’s, and the Monks established a skete in honour of St. John the Baptist on an adjoining property.

It seemed that the Convent would die out, but in 1984 a stream of young novices began to join. At that time work commenced on a new Church in honour of the Kazan Icon of the Holy Theotokos, together with a new building to house the monastic cells.
See further: http://www.kazanconvent.org/

Of particular interest to me on my visit to the Convent at Kentlyn was to visit the cave of the Hermit Father Guri (Demidov)(1894-1992), near to the St. John the Baptist Skete adjacent to to the Convent. Father Guri began living in the skete in 1960. Fr Edward and I walked along a dirt road and down a very steep and rocky path to the cave. The air was filled with the “incense” of pine (from the trees in the grounds of the Convent) and eucalyptus (from the gum trees in the surrounding thick bushland) – an entirely appropriately fragrant mixture for a Russian Hermit living in Australia. In overwhelming silence, punctuated only by the calls of native birds, we venerated the memory of the man who was (almost certainly) Australia’s first Orthodox Hermit.

For me it was an inspiring time, and an opportunity to reflect on the great lineage of Hermits whose path those of us who aspire to be their modern equivalents seek to walk (however unworthily).

This photograph is from an earlier visit to the cave by Abbess Maria (and the magnificent Convent dog) and a visiting Priest.

“Father Guri’s small cave, scene of his many hidden vigils and spiritual struggles, has been cleaned of the dirt and rubbish accumulated since his departure. A floor has been laid, overhanging rock walls strengthened, and icons and a burning lampada installed. Sanctified by Father Guri’s prayers and tears, this sandstone cleft, the Skete’s first ‘church’, has become a place of pilgrimage and quiet prayer for growing numbers of visitors to the Skete.” http://orthodoxwiki.org/St._John_the_Baptist_Skete_%28Kentlyn,_New_South_Wales%29

“Born in 1894, Fr Guri was a monastic in Harbin, China. Due to the cultural revolution, however, he moved to Australia, arriving on October 5, 1960, as a refugee. On arrival, he took up residence at St John the Baptist Skete, having been vacated the previous year. Living in a small, one room tin hut surrounded by thick bush he became its first, and only, monastic inhabitant. Fr Guri was devoted to prayer and craved solitude, and found both in the 18 hectare grounds of the skete, often attending daily services at the nearby Convent of Our Lady of Kazan.
In his search for silence, and in imitation of the monastic hermits of the Egyptian and Judean deserts, Mount Athos and the vast forests of Russia, Father Guri cleared out a natural cleft in a nearby sandstone rock face, making a small, cramped cave in which he would spend many hours reading prayers and using his prayer rope. This was his favourite retreat after communing at the Divine Liturgy. Only God and the holy Angels were witnesses to his prayerful vigils and struggles.
Father Guri was reputed to have had an extensive library on the ascetic life and hesychastic prayer (the use of the Jesus Prayer – the foundation of Orthodox Christian ascetic prayer). He would often laboriously copy excerpts from the writings of the Holy Fathers on the ascetic and spiritual life in small school exercise books. These anthologies, the fruit of his prayerful reading and spiritual struggles, he would give away as a blessing to those whom he felt would benefit from the wisdom of the Holy Fathers.”
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Diogenes Allen “Spiritual Theology: The Theology of Yesterday for Spiritual Help Today” [Cowley Publications, 1997)]

“Often spirituality today is isolated from church teaching and doctrine, as in Joseph Campbell’s treatment of myth and the many forms of New Age theologies, but doctrine apart from the life of prayer is abstract and sterile. In Spiritual Theology Allen turns to the great teachers of the past—the church fathers, Augustine, Maximus the Confessor, Bonaventure, Hugh of St. Victor, Calvin and Luther, George Herbert—to recover a spirituality that is rich with the doctrines and disciplines of theology.

Allen covers the great questions of the spiritual life: what is the Christian goal? what leads us toward that goal, and what hinders us? what is conversion? how can we discern our progress in the spiritual life? what are the fruits of the Spirit?

A second purpose of the book is to introduce readers to the disciplines and texts of the threefold way, found in the eastern church from the fourth century on. Allen writes simply and clearly of the active life and the development of virtue, and the contemplative life, which includes coming to know God through the Book of Nature and the Book of Scripture as well as directly, face to face, which is the domain of mystical theology.

This book is a basic and accessible introduction to the classic writings and doctrines of the spiritual life.”

“Written by a prominent Protestant theologian for Protestants, this book has a decidedly Catholic tone and content. It is an attractive, accessible book that reflects not only the great learning of its author, but also his personal experience of Christian life and striving. Allen dares to cross disciplinary, generic, and denominational boundaries in order to appeal to all Christians to recall an ancient theological tradition that has almost been forgotten, even within Catholic circles.

Allen joins his voice to those of a growing number of theologians who are deploring “a widespread theological amnesia in the church” (p. 5), as a result of which “academic theology has narrowed its focus and neglected the field of spiritual theology” (p. 3). In fact, the classic Christian works of ascetical, natural, exegetical and mystical theology are routinely dismissed as “devotional” rather than “theological.” It is high time, Allen insists, for us to address the “noticeable gap today between theology as it is taught in the academy and the practice of Christian devotion” (p. 152) by recovering these lost branches of theological study, which enable us to focus on the questions intrinsic to theology, namely, “the nature of God’s reality and our human capacity to know God” (p. 153).

“For most of Christian history,” Allen observes, “intellectual inquiry and spiritual aspiration toward God have gone hand-in-hand” (p. 154), and that is necessarily so, because Christian belief affirms that “receiving God’s revelation require[s] repentance” (p. 153). Only very recently have theologians mistakenly assumed that a personal practice of the faith is unnecessary for them as academicians. Only recently, too, have people begun to embrace vague, popular forms of “spirituality” that entail little or no doctrinal commitment.
These recent phenomena are related, Allen suggests, and stem from mechanically taking apart what was for most of Christian history a continuous, three-stage narrative of personal and communal quest.”
Ann W. Astell “Anglican Theological Review”, Vol. 81, No. 1 , Winter 1999 http://www.questia.com/library/journal/1P3-39223448/spiritual-theology-the-theology-of-yesterday-for

“Dr. Diogenes Allen (1932-2013) was a distinguished scholar in the field of the philosophy of religion, and the Stuart Professor of Philosophy emeritus at Princeton Theological Seminary. Allen was born in Lexington, Kentucky, on October 17, 1932. He earned a Bachelor of Arts from the University of Kentucky in 1954, and went on to study at Oxford University as a Rhodes Scholar. He earned a B.A. (1957) and later an M.A. (1961) from Oxford. He earned the B.D. (1959), the M.A. (1962) and the Ph.D. (1965) from Yale University. His thesis for his Ph.D. was titled “Faith as a Ground for Religious Beliefs.”
Before joining the Princeton Seminary faculty, he taught at York University in Ontario, Canada, from 1964 to 1967. He also was a visiting professor at Drew University and at the University of Notre Dame during his career.”
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Tim Vivian (Editor) “Becoming Fire: Through the Year with the Desert Fathers and Mothers” [Cistercian Studies, 2009]

“The insights of the desert monks of the fifth and sixth centuries amaze, and startle, readers by their wisdom. Among other things, they teach that the first step in overcoming our sinfulness is an honest perception of things as they are.” By arranging these “words” in short Daly readings, Tim Vivian invites modern readers to savor the monks’ advice, as did those who collected these sayings, rather than dismiss them as a fascinating but irrelevant bit of history.
Tim Vivian is an Assistant Professor of Religious Studies at California State University, Bakersfield. He is the author of numerous books and articles on early Christian monasticism, including “The Life of Antony” (with Apostolos N. Athanassakis) and “Words to Live By: Journeys in Ancient and Modern Egyptian Monasticism”, both published by Cistercian Publications.”
See also:
Tim Vivian “Words To Live By: Journeys in Ancient and Modern Egyptian Monasticism” [Cistercian Studies, 2005]

“Give me a word, Father. From the time of Saint Antony ‘at least ‘younger monks would ask older, experienced monks, abbas or ammas ( ‘fathers ‘ or ‘mothers ‘), for a saving word, for advice, for wise counsel on how to live. In this book, Coptic scholar and priest Tim Vivian shares personal accounts of journeys to present-day monasteries in Egypt, and translations of ancient texts exemplifying the ‘words, ‘ the insights that have guided desert monks for nearly two millennia. Those who study the monastic tradition professionally and those who search it spiritually will find matter for reflection here.”

Tim Vivian and Apostolos N. Athanassakis “Athanasius of Alexandria: The Life of Antony” [Cistercian Studies, 2005]

“Instrumental in the conversion of many, including Augustine, The Life of Antony provided the model for subsequent saints’ life and constituted, in the words of patristics scholar Johannes Quasten, ‘the most important document of early monasticism.’”

See further:
David G.R. Keller “Desert Banquet: A Year of Wisdom from the Desert Mothers and Fathers” [Liturgical Press, 2011]

“The wisdom of the desert fathers and mothers lies in their experiences of solitude, prayer, community life, work, and care for their neighbors. Their goal was transformation of their lives through openness to the presence and energy of God in Christ. They taught by example and by sharing narratives and sayings that reflect the deep human psychological and spiritual aspects of their journey toward authentic human life. The venue for their transformation was the whole person ‘body, mind, and spirit. They emphasized self-knowledge, humility, purity of heart, and love of God and neighbor. Far from being naïve, their sayings and narratives reflect honest struggles, temptations, and failures. They also demonstrate the disciplines of prayer and meditation that kept them centered in God as their only source of strength.
The daily reflections in “Desert Banquet” introduce readers to a variety of these early Christian mentors and offer reflections on the significance of their wisdom for life in the twenty-first century.”

Amongst the increasing number of excellent books exploring the “technology” of the spiritual life, and deriving from the Desert Fathers and Mothers, and the Early Church, is “The Matters Series” by Mary Margaret Funk OSB.

Mary Margaret Funk OSB “Thoughts Matter: Discovering the Spiritual Journey” (The Matters Series) [Liturgical Press, 2013]

“Cassian taught that real intimacy with God in prayer demands renouncing one’s former way of life, the thoughts belonging to that former way of life, and one’s very idea of God. In “Thoughts Matter”, Mary Margaret Funk focuses on the second of these: renouncing the thoughts belonging to one’s former way of life. Her eight chapters focus on different thoughts”-food, sex, anger, dejection, acedia (profound weariness of the soul), vainglory (taking credit for good actions), and pride.
Funk explains well how failure to control these thoughts can undermine our spiritual life, and she instructs readers on how effectively to overcome these thoughts and to focus instead on thoughts in harmony with God’s will. The result is an experience of joy, hope, and freedom from enslavement to our appetites. Readers will come away enlightened, strengthened, and inspired to delve more deeply into a life of intimacy with God.”

Mary Margaret Funk OSB “Tools Matter: Beginning the Spiritual Journey (The Matters Series) [Liturgical Press, 2013]

“How can we tend the garden of our souls? Meg Funk turns to the wisdom of the desert fathers for the means of removing obstacles to spiritual growth, which include thoughts of food, sex, possessions, anger, dejection, and pride, among other preoccupations. Redirecting thought away from such weeds in the garden of the spirit can lead to a greater awareness of God and purity of prayer. This method to mental discipline may seem impossible at first, Funk admits, but those who succeed at it are rewarded with a liberating experience as they come to observe and control individual thought processes. Drawing on the writings of the fifth-century monk John Cassian, Funk goes on to explore deeply using such tools as memory, imagination, and rational thinking-tools right out of early Christianity-to work on inner healing. She also explains how other positive tools, such as ceaseless prayer, manual labor, and isolation, may lead to uncluttering the mind and purifying the heart.

Mary Margaret Funk OSB “Discernment Matters: Listening with the Ear of the Heart” (The Matters Series) [Liturgical Press, 2013]

After fifty years of monastic life, prayer, and spiritual direction, Meg Funk knows what it means to listen with the ear of one’s heart to the Holy Spirit. In “Discernment Matters”, she shares what she has learned. This book is a resource for those who want to learn and practice discernment as taught by the early monastic tradition. It includes an accessible summary of teachings about discernment from monastic traditions of late antiquity, consideration of important tools for making decisions today, and practical examples from the lives of St. Benedict and St. Patrick, as well as from the experience of monastics today.
With this fifth volume of the Matters Series, Funk completes one of the most comprehensive presentations of the spiritual life available today, demonstrating why this inner work is both necessary and such a joy.”

Mary Margaret Funk OSB “Humility Matters: Toward Purity of Heart” (The Matters Series) [Liturgical Press, 2013]

“”Humility Matters” makes the claims that humility is for a disciple of Jesus Christ what enlightenment is for a Buddhist, realization for a Hindu, surrender for a Muslim, and righteousness for a Jew. It is the unmistakable character of one who has accepted the vocation to undertake the spiritual journey. It is at the core of our experience of life in Christ.
Meg Funk guides readers deeper into a life of humility by following the movement of what the early Christians called the four renunciations: to renounce our former way of life, our thoughts of our former way of life, our self-made thoughts of God, and our self-made thoughts of ourselves. With the help of the compelling examples of St. Benedict, St. Teresa of Jesus, and St. Therese of Lisieux, Funk shows the way to ongoing conversion of mind, heart, and way of life.”

Mary Margaret Funk OSB “Lectio Matters: Before the Burning Bush” (The Matters Series) [Liturgical Press, 2013]

“”Lectio divina” is a way of praying by sustained immersion into a revelatory text. While Scripture is the classic place of encounter with God, the text could also be the book of life or the book of nature. In “Lectio Matters”, respected spiritual guide Meg Funk accompanies the reader in exploring the various levels of “lectio divina” as taught by the ancient church writers and by sharing her own long experience. By means of this wisdom both ancient and new, “lectio divina” can become our burning bush, a real encounter with the living God, in which we take off our sandals and bow our brow to the ground.”

Mary Margaret Funk OSB “Tools Matter for Practicing the Spiritual Life” [Continuum, 2001]

In her previous book, “Thoughts Matter: The Practice of the Spiritual Life”, Sister Mary Margaret Funk, elaborating on the teaching of John Cassian, dealt with the eight classic “thoughts” that distract us from the presence of God. In her new book, casting her net more widely, she treats more than two dozen “tools” or practices of the spiritual life. Many of these (such as fasting, vigils, ceaseless prayer, and manual labor) derive from the desert mothers and fathers of the fourth and fifth centuries, but just as many come from later times: the practices of emptiness based on “The Cloud of Unknowing”, of recollection (Teresa of Avila), of self-abandonment (J. P. de Caussade), of the presence of God (Brother Lawrence), of colloquy (Gabrielle Bossis), and of the Little Way of Therese of Lisieux. The book concludes with a chapter on discernment, spiritual direction, and the limitations of each tool. Tools, says Funk, are means, not ends. “Eventually, we discover, with freedom and love, that tools don’t matter after all! God, our heart’s desire, is all that matters!” The book includes a comprehensive bibliography.”

“Funk turns to the wisdom of the desert fathers for the means of removing obstacles to spiritual growth, which include thoughts of food, sex, possessions, anger, dejection, and pride, among other preoccupations. Redirecting thought away from such weeds in the garden of the spirit can lead to a greater awareness of God. This somewhat Zen-like method to mental discipline may seem impossible at first, Funk admits, but those who succeed at it are rewarded with a liberating experience as they come to observe and control individual thought processes. Drawing on the writings of the fifth-century monk John Cassian, Funk goes on to explore deeply using such tools as memory, imagination, and rational thinking–tools right out of early Christianity–to work on inner healing. She also explains how other positive tools, such as ceaseless prayer, manual labor, and isolation, may lead to uncluttering the mind and purifying the heart. Worthy guidance for contemplative spiritual seekers.” June Sawyers – American Library Association

Mary Margaret Funk, OSB, has been a member of Our Lady of Grace Monastery Beech Grove Indiana since 1961. Taught elementary school at St. Barnabas 1965-69. Was an administrator for the Archdiocese in catechetics from 1969-1983. Archdiocese of Louisville in 1984. She was Prioress from 1985 – 1993, and in 1994 became Executive Director of Monastic Interreligious Dialogue Board. In that capacity she coordinated the Gethsemani Encounter 1996, and in 2002, Benedict’s Dharma Conference, 2001, Benedict’s Dharma 2, 2003. She spoke at the World’s Parliament of Religions in 1993. She traveled to India and Tibet on the 6th Spiritual Exchange Program in 1995 and 1999, and has been in formal dialogue with Hindu, Zen Buddhist, Islam, Confucius, Taoist traditions.
She was the Executive Director of MID Board. She collaborated with James Wiseman, editor, on the last 30 issues of “Monastic Interreligious Dialogue Bulletin” and Web Site: MonasticDialog.com
She has given many retreats to Monastics and lay ministers on Christian Practice. Currently she’s directing the School of Lectio Divina at Benedict Inn. She served on Thomas Keating’s Contemplative Outreach Board of Trustees, Weston School of Theology in Cambridge and was a member of the Board of Overseers of St. Meinrad School of Theology.
She holds Graduate degrees from Catholic University (1973) and Indiana University (1979). She’s a graduate of Epiphany Certification Program of Formative Spirituality (2002).
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This reflection on the past decade or so of the “New Monasticism” makes some points directly relevant to what might be called the “New Eremiticism”.

Nearly ten years ago, “Christianity Today” highlighted the emergence of “the new monastics,” referring to them as an “intentional community” of “new friars.”

The September 2005 article traced the birth of the new monasticism to a conference in June 2004 where participants drew up a voluntary rule consisting of twelve distinctives that would be the guide for those communities who were voluntarily associating themselves with the movement.
The new monasticism, characterized by Robin Russell as individuals and families who “commit to follow a ‘rule of life’ . . . and they immerse themselves in community life and service,” is without a doubt an important movement in the North American Protestant church, and there is much to commend in it. The name, though, in some ways obscures our impression of historic monasticism—the diverse worlds of the Benedictines, Cistercians, Franciscans, and Dominicans. Though scholars and practitioners of monasticism debate, at times, the very definition of “monasticism,” there is general agreement that married and single people living in some form of close (or even loose) community, even if they follow a rule, is not quite the historic monasticism of the Christian Church, being closer to “intentional community.”
Ten years on it is worth asking why the new monastics prefer something “new” to something historical. Though only adherents can answer this question completely, I will hazard a few guesses: Historic monasticism expects/demands singleness and (by extension) celibacy, whereas many of the new monastics (including some of its main leaders) are married. “Marriage,” of course, is not the antonym of “monastic” but it is somewhat foreign to the institution of monasticism historically.
Historic monasticism also expects individuals to place themselves under a strong authority figure (an abbot/abbess or prior) whose power and authority derives from the community’s rule (e.g., the Rule of Benedict) and customs.

Finally, historic monasticism mainly (though not exclusively) focuses on a life of prayer with work viewed as a means for continued praying. Much of the new monasticism is actively engaged in what might be called social justice activism.
There are a handful of historically-oriented monasteries in the Anglican Communion and the Lutheran tradition (and a few ecumenical houses, such as Taizé in France and Iona in Scotland), but there needs to be a larger vision for the reintroduction of monasticism, in its historic forms, into Protestantism. Though full justification for this claim goes beyond the scope of this article, my book “Reforming the Monastery: Protestant Theologies of the Religious Life” (Cascade Books, 2014) provides a number of arguments from Protestant authors as to why monasticism should be re-introduced into the Protestant churches or, more properly, why it should have never been discarded in the first place.

A sense that monasticism had its place in the Church and even remorse that the institution itself was discarded during the Reformation was never completely absent in Protestant writings of the past five hundred years. Whether it was the Little Gidding “monastic” community of the Ferrar family in early seventeenth century England (made known again by T. S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets”), the Serampore Brotherhood of William Carey in India, or the Finkenwalde seminarians under Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Germany, the spirit of monasticism (if not the institution itself) has been alive and well in Protestant communities.
In 1833, Anglican priest and Oxford fellow Richard Froude wrote to then-Anglican John Henry Newman that “the present state of things in England makes an opening for reviving the monastic system.” Those seemed like original words at the time. Yet monasticism is one of the most ancient and enduring institutions of the Church. It reached its zenith during the High Middle Ages, but the Reformers weren’t as opposed to it as is commonly thought. Indeed, the late Reformed theologian Donald Bloesch is the most recent advocate for it, but he was only expressing sentiments found in Luther, Calvin, and Barth.
Luther and Calvin both saw value in the institution of monasticism provided it did not involve life-long vows (especially those made indirectly to the pope), was not seen as a superior form of the Christian life, and did not displace baptism. Thus, monasticism was not a superior form of life since all Christian believers were called to the same high standards of holiness.

In the words of Luther, “When a [monk] takes his vow he vows nothing more than that which he already vowed at the start in his baptism, and that is the gospel.” Monasticism was simply one form of the Christian life along with non-monastic singleness or parenthood.
By the nineteenth century in England no one was that concerned monasticism would be seen as salvific, and John Henry Newman’s argument found a hearing: “Clergymen at present are subject to the painful experience of losing the more religious portion of their flock. . . . They desire to be stricter than the mass of churchmen, and the church gives them no means.”
In Newman’s thinking these more spiritually inclined church members would convert to Roman Catholicism if they were not offered the same opportunities in the Anglican tradition. Additionally, Newman believed that the antiquity of monasticism was grounds for its presence in the Christian Church. Not everything old belonged in the Church, but monasticism certainly did.
Why? Donald Bloesch offers two convincing reasons: First, an Evangelical monastery “will be a center for evangelism and world mission”; second, the Evangelical monastic community will serve as its critic and be a source of its renewal.
But I would add a third reason: God has been calling individual believers to the monastic life for nearly two thousand years—so why would we presume that he is not still doing so today, even among Protestant Evangelical Christians? If God is calling some to this life then the Church should provide them with the monasteries necessary to live out their calling.”
Greg Peters is Associate Professor at the Torrey Honors Institute of Biola University.
http://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2014/03/the-new-monasticism-gets-older

For the original article referred to, “The New Monasticism. A fresh crop of Christian communities is blossoming in blighted urban settings all over America”
by Rob Moll, “Christianity Today” September 2, 2005, see: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2005/september/16.38.html

See further:
Greg Peters “Reforming the Monastery. Protestant Theologies of the Religious Life”
[Wipf and Stock, 2013; Cascade Books, 2014]

“Richard Froude wrote in 1833 to John Henry Newman that “the present state of things in England makes an opening for reviving the monastic system.” Seemingly original words at the time. Yet, monasticism is one of the most ancient and enduring institutions of the Christian church, reaching its zenith during the High Middle Ages. Although medieval monasteries were regularly suppressed during the Reformation and the magisterial Reformers rejected monastic vows, the existence of monasticism has remained within the Reformation churches, both as an institution and in its theology. This volume is an examination of Protestant theologies of monasticism, examining the thought of select Protestant authors who have argued for the existence of monasticism in the Reformation churches, beginning with Martin Luther and John Calvin and including Conrad Hoyer, John Henry Newman, Karl Barth, and Donald Bloesch. Looking at the contemporary church, the current movement known as the “New Monasticism” is discussed and evaluated in light of Protestant monastic history.”

For St Augustine’s Lutheran Monastery and Retreat House, Oxford, Michigan, see: http://www.staugustineshouse.org/

For The Order of Watchers (“Ordre des Veilleurs” in French) is a community of hermits in the French Protestant tradition founded in 1923 by the theologian Wilfred Monod, see https://citydesert.wordpress.com/2014/01/30/the-order-of-watchers/

“Up through about AD 1800, it was not uncommon for worldly men and women who had for one reason or another reached a point of closure in their mundane careers – the death of a beloved spouse, poverty, disgrace, retirement, or a profound metanoia and resulting revulsion for the mess and hurry and compromise of secular life, and a wish to be done with it – to retire in holy poverty to a monastery, a nunnery, or a hermitage, there to round out their days in prayer, fasting, worship, contemplation, and the humble work of the hands. It was understood that when one cut away all the inessential things in life, the monastic life would remain. Worship was the core and essence, the sine qua non, of a life that could aspire to propriety.

This ennobled and encouraged the whole society. When a noble lady or a peasant girl dedicated her life to a religious order, everyone was gladdened, and heartened; for it told them what their own lives were about, and for. “If she so small can be so valorous,” one could think, “why then I suppose I shall be able to manage my bit.”
The ostentatious presence in the midst of society of consecrated religious, then, illumines the rationality of social life, reinforcing the social order and nerving the organs of society to their duties under their proper ends.
Now it might seem that this is all some sort of reductionist account of monasticism. That monasticism has social utility, however, does not entail that its utility is at all specious. To think so is to labor under the unconscious, quintessentially modern presupposition that our convictions are all specious – a conviction that renders itself specious. On the contrary: that a thing is practically useful to us ought to suggest first that it is in fact quite likely to be really good for us in the ultimate scheme of things.
Thus the modern consequentialist approach to utility has it all backwards. Things are not good because they result in good consequences; this utilitarian explanation begs the question it purports to answer. Rather, things have generally good consequences when they are really good and beautiful in themselves. Things are useful because they are good, and not vice versa.

So far is this then from being a consequentialist or utilitarian account of monasticism, as to be the very opposite. Monasticism is not useful to us because it fools us all into thinking that our daily activities are important. No: our daily activities really are important, seeking the Good and devoting our lives ultimately to God really is the essence of goodness, value, spiritual and corporeal health, and of joy; and monasticism helps us remember these facts.
But yet, more than that, monastics really are the van of the general heavenward motion of humanity. They are blazing a trail for us, not just metaphorically, but in simple fact. Monasticism is useful to us in worldly life because it is important in the ultimate life of all the worlds. After all, we tend all in the end, willy nilly, toward the monk’s utter renunciation of all inferior values in favor of what matters most. We are all of us to be utterly impoverished, sooner or later, intentionally or not, nobly or not. We are all of us incipient monastics.
Monks then are as valuable to us as the van of our host in battle. Their spiritual warfare, of which all earthly wars are theaters, is the real struggle at the heart of all others.
So it is that, back when Israel was at war with the Canaanite idolaters of Moloch the devourer of children, the warriors at the bleeding edge of the Israelite army, first into battle, were priests in white linen, blowing shawms and singing Psalms of wrath and battle, angels of the Lord.”
http://orthosphere.org/2014/09/08/the-secular-utility-of-the-cloistered-contemplative/

See further: Eugene Stockton “Forest Dweller: An Alternative Life Style for Seniors” at
http://www.hermitary.com/articles/stockton_forest.html
“The hermit way of life has a long tradition in the Christian Church, both east and west. But it could well borrow from the wisdom of Eastern religions, which provide for something lacking in the West, namely how to take account of retirement/old age. Are we to be just left on the shelf, waiting to die?
Hindu asceticism envisages four stages of life:
1. Student: a programme of learning after initiation (“undergraduate”)
2. Householder: engaged in family and work (“graduate”)
3. Forest dweller: free from responsibilities of family and work (recluse or semi-retired)
4. Saddhu or saint (union with God)

The third stage on retirement is not the end, but a new stage on the journey of life and one looking forward to the final graduation. Such a forest dweller corresponds to the hermit or recluse, living a virtually solitary life. The separation from the world, effected more or less obviously in a material sense, is at depth more crucially a mental or spiritual separation.”

Michael Yankoski “The Sacred Year. Mapping the Soulscape of Spiritual Practice — How Contemplating Apples, Living in a Cave, and Befriending a Dying Woman Revived My Life” [Thomas Nelson, 2014]

“Frustrated and disillusioned with his life as a Christian motivational speaker, Michael Yankoski was determined to stop merely talking about living a life of faith and start experiencing it. The result was a year of focused engagement with spiritual practices–both ancient and modern–that fundamentally reshaped and revived his life. By contemplating apples for an hour before tasting them (attentiveness), eating on just $2.00 a day (simplicity), or writing letters of thanks (gratitude), Michael discovered a whole new vitality and depth through the intentional life.”
“The author starts his “sacred year” after an incident involving a 5am flight, yelling passenger, and a conference in which he was scheduled to speak. After returning home from this eye-opening experience, Michael stays a week at a local monastery and falls under the guidance of Father Solomon. After his meeting with the Father, Michael begins his spiritual journey.”

Michael Yankoski is a writer, aspiring theologian, and urban homesteader who dreams of becoming a competent woodworker, musician, and sailor. He received his MA in theological studies at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, is a (novitiate) Oblate of St. Benedict, and has authored four books including “Under the Overpass: A Journey of Faith on the Streets of America”.

Michael grew up in Colorado, feels at home on the Pacific Coast, and currently resides in Indiana, where he and his wife are PhD students at the University of Notre Dame. Web: http://www.MichaelYankoski.com Facebook: fb.com/myankoski Twitter: @michaelyankoski Michael grew up in Colorado, feels at home on the Pacific Coast, and currently resides in Indiana, where he and his wife are pursuing PhDs at the University of Notre Dame.

Contents:
What Color Is Jaded?
Section I: Depth with Self
Single Tasking: The Practice of Attentiveness
Life and Death: The Practice of Daily Examen
Daily Bread: The Practice of Sustenance
Freedom in Downward Mobility: The Practice of Simplicity
Let There BE! The Practice of Creativity
Endless Finite Days: The Practice of Embracing Mortality
Section II: Depth with God
Guilty as Diagnosed: The Practice of Confession
Is Anybody Listening? The Practice of Listening Prayer
Taste and Become: The Practices of Lectio Divina and Regular Eucharist
Resonant Loneliness: The Practice of Still, Silent Solitude
http://www.thesacredyear.com/splash/sacredYear.html

Michael Yankoski: Three Ways to Embrace The Sacred This Year

“Earth’s crammed with heaven
And every common bush afire with God;
But only those who see, take off their shoes.”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“Being oblivious to the Sacred is endemic these days.
Amidst our drive by, fly by, shop-till-you-drop frenzy of a world, most of us have conditioned our capacity for attentiveness, for contemplation, for hearing the “still small voice of God” right out of ourselves.
Some blame electronic technology, others blame their family of origin, still others blame capitalism’s tendency to commodify everything under the sun.
All these factors may have infused this malady into our psyches, yet the invitation to first acknowledge and then Embrace The Sacred is—I’ve come to believe—still all around us, woven into the very fabric of Creation itself.
What we need to cultivate is what Jesus once called “Eyes to see and ears to hear.”
My eyes were opened and my ears unstopped to the “everywhere-and-everywhen” ways of the Holy during “The Sacred Year”. This was a period of time I set aside during my frenetic life as an itinerate motivational speaker, to engage a series of Spiritual Practices—some ancient and some modern—in hope of finding nourishment, rootedness, and an increasing depth in my life and faith.
Having lived and written about “The Sacred Year”, I’d commend three specific Spiritual Practices as you seek to embrace the sacred this coming year.
• Spiritual Practice #1: Attentiveness
If you’re reading these words right now, pervasive distraction and ceaseless multi-tasking is likely normal for you. While multi-tasking is a good thing for computers, the consistent conclusion seems to be that multi-tasking’s effect on human beings is anything but positive.
The simple fact is that multi-tasking fractures the attention we’re able to give to whatever is before us.
As an antidote to the epidemic of perpetual partial attention, during “The Sacred Year”, I began taking an hour to eat an apple.

It might sound strange, but how else might one begin cultivating attentiveness? Divided evenly between my five senses, that means I had 12 minutes with each to explore the way the apple looked, felt, sounded, smelled and tasted.
Surprisingly, the more apples I contemplated the more aware and contemplative (from the Latin “to observe”) I became in general. As we engage it, the practice of attentiveness seems to spread out, infusing other areas and other relationships, helping us become more attentive.
After the third apple, I stopped multi-tasking people, started becoming more available and present to the people I love most in my life. No more asking half-baked questions during a conversation where I’m only partially present.
But why not start small? Go grab an apple, and set aside an hour. (And, I’ll let you in on a mystery that you can go explore with your own apple: what common kitchen ingredient do apple seeds taste like?)
• Spiritual Practice #2: Silence
If a thing’s rarity makes it precious, silence may well be worth more than gold.
From dawn till dusk our lives are filled with noise—the sound of traffic and car horns, buzzing smart phones, the little pings of email / tweet / DM notifications, and let’s not forget the less-than-inspiring elevator music in every retail store.
Though the effect of noise seems subtle in daily doses, I’m convinced it compounds over time until our ears and very lives give us a persistent headache.
Even 5-10 minutes of “centering silence” in the morning can help counteract the toxin of our culture’s ceaseless noise.
At the beginning of “The Sacred Year”, I found it especially helpful during my practice of “centering silence” to light a candle and contemplate the way darkness has not overcome the light.

As you enter into this year, consider dedicating 5, 10, even 20 minutes to a daily rhythm of “centering silence.” If possible, do this before checking your email, before turning on your cell phone. Light a candle. Bask in its warmth and light.
As you grow deeper into the practice, notice the way the “centering silence” becomes a sort of anchor point, a place of reference and orientation that you can return to during the day, no matter how noisy life may be.
• Spiritual Practice #3: Simplicity
Contrary to the dictates of today’s reigning economic theory, Thoreau once wisely noted, “I make myself rich by making my wants few.”
Simplicity isn’t about chiding ourselves for owning too much, but rather cultivating the capacity to become more thankful and content with less than we’ve been led to believe we ought to want (or deserve).
The Spiritual Practice of simplicity can take on many forms: consider giving away all articles of clothing that you haven’t worn in the last year, instituting a month-long moratorium on buying “anything new” (fascinating how removing the urgency to purchase creates space for healthy evaluation), or even trying to eat on $2.00 per day. (Around 2 billion people subsist on less than $2.00 per day in our world).

Practicing the latter (plain oatmeal for lunch, simple beans and rice for lunch and dinner) had a surprising effect on me: I began to anticipate, notice, and appreciate EVERY meal with a heightened sense of gratitude and delight. Whereas I had simply consumed food before practicing simplicity, I began enjoying it instead.
This is the pearl of great price buried way down deep in the practice of simplicity: it enables increased delight and increased satisfaction, even as it empowers us to consume less of Creation’s finite resources.
Misunderstandings of Spiritual Practice have twisted them into ways of one-upping others, or trying to earn God’s approval.
The most clarifying metaphor I’ve yet come across is that of a sailboat: Spiritual Practices are sort of like trimming the sails. Doing so is essential, yes, but well-trimmed sails are only secondarily responsible for the sailboat’s movement.

Trim your sails all you want, but if it weren’t for the Wind, there’d be no movement at all.
But—thanks be to God—the Wind of the Creating, Sustaining and Redeeming God billows throughout our very days and lives.
Grace and Peace to you as you Embrace The Sacred this coming year.

Michael Yankoski: Three Ways to Embrace The Sacred This Year