As usual, I love what you have to say on this subject. I share your thoughts entirely. For myself, I’m more immersed in the western tradition, and as much as I love the medievals, their attitude toward sex is one reason why I can’t take Catholicism seriously when it says its dogma has never changed. Margery Kempe was a mystic who moved out of the house so as to avoid becoming polluted by her husband. The man had horribly asked of her that she eat dinner with him on Friday nights and have sex with him on just that night. But see, that would make her less a bride of Christ. Lewis in his Allegory of Love talks about how medieval attitudes, if not dogmas, were highly negative about sex. It was presented by many as something inherently impure and tolerated only for procreation. This was the very attitude that allowed courtly love traditions to develop on grounds of adulterous love affairs; sex within a sacramental union defiled the sacrament. Better to have romantic love outside the sacrament. St Bernard likewise speaks ill of sex, and Peter Abelard repented of his entire marriage to Heloise because their passion was too strong. He was grateful for his castration because it relieved him of this burden and sin. One of her letters to him on this subject is among the most painful and poignant things I’ve ever read. To act as though Pope St John Paul II and his Theology of the Body was always the Catholic teaching is enough to raise my eyebrows.
And likewise, I’m with you. I never really thought about it in these terms until recently, but the level of feeling I have for many great novelists and poets is akin to how many more theologically minded people than I feel about the saints. The great works are where I find my wisdom and guidance, always subordinate to holy scripture and guided by the wisdom of tradition. But, frankly, I think Dante has a great deal more wisdom on this subject than celibate priests and monks.
She did have a ton of kids, yes. Fair enough, I guess; however, it went way beyond just not wanting to have sex anymore. She moved out of the house, and only came back when her husband fell ill and got injured. That entire section of her autobiography is filled with her complaining about how taking care of her husband took her away from her service of Christ and contemplation of him, saying she’s not even really married to her husband but to Christ, and she was only married to him in the flesh (I believe that was her language). Call that what you want, but whatever it is, it’s not Theology of the Body.
Kempe’s writings are not dogma. Nothing you said is incorrect except stating that any of this is somehow evidence that dogma changed. Attitudes change, dogma hasn’t, JPII/TOB never contradict or break from dogma, only attitudes. I agree with the rest of the discussion I just fail to see your point about the Catholic Church. I discerned EO and RC at the same time and attitudes discussed in this article are what pushed me over to RC to some extent, just my 2¢ I suppose.
You write very well on this topic. If you ever do undertake a book, this should be its theme.
When I was a youth, raised without religion I nonetheless felt a strong religious impulse, I had a powerful sense of the divine and transcendent. I experienced that other world through three modes of relation: my relation to the natural world (including as shaped by human effort), my relation to the arts (especially music and literature), and my relation to the opposite sex. Even today, I cannot imagine the divine except through these relations. Nor can I imagine these relations without the divine.
Thanks very much for that -- it means a great deal to me. My young experience was similar -- perhaps the difficulty comes that for me, later, I also experienced it in consolation for loss, and thus it got tied up with suffering in a certain way that eventually became unbalanced. Hence my having to unwind all this.
Yes, it's all very complicated and often tragic. And I do think there is a deep wisdom at the root of the ascetic/renunciant impulse, even if it has been perverted and misapplied with horrific consequences. Something I learned while still quite young was that there is only one Spirit, one energy of life. If you restrain the sexual expression of that energy, it will out in some other way. This can be turned to good effect. Or it can be disastrous. But powerful it always is. What does Alvy Singer say to Annie Hall... "There goes another novel."
That seems to be the crucial point, in my experience, at least: simply restraining the sexual energy isn't an inherent good and can ultimately backfire. It needs to be re-directed and transmuted in to something else. It's a generative force that's much too powerful to allow to remain in a stagnant state.
John Paul II wrote and taught beautifully on this topic. "Love and Responsibility" is s philosophical work written before he became pope (Karol Wojtyla). The "Theology of the Body" is the name he gave to his multi-year series of catechetical talks when he first became pope. Both explore the goodness of marital sexual love and explore the eschatological meaning of vowed celibacy. The Catholic Church has canonized a number of married saints this past century: Louis and Zelie Martin (the parents of St. Therese of Lisieux) were canonized as a couple, and Gianna Beretta Molla, Elizabeth Ann Seton, Thomas More ("A Man for All Seasons") were married but canonized ad individuals (their spouses weren't). If you go back farther you can find Elizabeth of Hungary as s shining example of a saint whose marriage was part of her sanctity.
You missed King David in your list of models,called the man after God’s own heart! A quote from an early church father - “the glory of God is a man fully alive”. David was a fully alive Renaissance man from way before the Renaissance - skilled shepherd, slayer of lion and bear, harpist, poet, singer, warrior, skilled general, knower of God’s voice, inspiration and guidance, poet, judge, king, administrator, liturgist - designed the temple service, architect, diplomat, wily and deceptive as a serpent when that was called for, gave instructions on his deathbed like a Mafia godfather, lover of multiple wives and concubines, beloved by his men who followed him at the risk of their lives, man of prayer. A title of our Savior is Son of David.
A problem that I see is that a layer of sayings and teachings of various saints and fathers is inserted between the believer and direct engagement with the Bible. In the beginning of The Way of the Pilgrim the pilgrim is told that he needs the Philokalia as a means to understand and apply the scriptures.
David was definitely a hot mess of a guy, yet “For David had done what was right IN THE EYES OF THE LORD and had not failed to keep any of the Lord’s commands all the days of his life - except in the case of Uriah the Hittite” 1 Kings 15:5 and Nathan the prophet stated that David”s multiple wives were from God! 2 Samuel 12:8. Whew! It’s complicated isn’t it.
I recall talking to a priest once who told a story about a monk or a priest, I forget the exact details, who was in some process of initiation with a superior. And the superior unfairly berated him publicly in order to test his submission. Apparently he passed the test and took his lashing with head bowed. The priest telling this story presented it as such a virtuous thing to be admired. I found it one of the more pathetic stories I’ve heard. An actual humiliation ritual.
Such a timely piece, my friend. Wonderfully written as always. Klages has certainly had me pondering recently whether the typical Christian notion of salvation is not merely a petrification of the narcissistic ego in the worst possible and potentially unredeemable state. That of a purely individualistic salvation and neurotic concern with the standing of one's own "soul". Which may seem unrelated to what you have spoken of here to some. I know, however, you will understand my grievance.
As a cradle Orthodox I found the Church to be quite the hotbed of narcissism. It’s a big part of why I stopped going. So many people terribly worried about theological debates and being in the “true church” that they forget something as basic as spending time with their own children. Not because they simply have to work a lot to feed their family but because they need to seek out some strange intellectually masturbatory practice, often online.
Ah brother! Well spotted. I almost became a Catholic when I reconciled with the Church after some time in the wilderness. I even toyed with the idea of secretly communing in both churches and not telling either one about it. In the end, that felt like it would be dishonest to both; and in the end, the Orthodox Church is simply my home; after all these years, my soul is shaped like the Orthodox liturgy, and I can’t spend another Pascha away from it. So here I am, I hope a witness for the beauty of Catholicism to the Orthodox.
I am glad you chose to be honest on the matter, though I agree that many difficulties you bring up are addressed more often in Catholic authors than in Orthodox ones. Someone else mentioned John Paul II’s whole Theology of the Body (which, in its popular form, I think leads to underestimating the dangers of sex!), but I am thinking more of St. Francis de Sales’ Introduction to the Devout Life. He starts with a definition of devotion and then talks about how silly it would be for married person to act like a nun, or even for a bishop to pray like a Carthusian. He is wary of the dangers presented by dances, but acknowledges that life involves stepping over this earth and so gives counsel to venture through it well.
Disclaimer: I love reading St. John Cassian and all those desert guys. But I only tend to recommend them to people who may actually enter religious life. Otherwise St. Therese of Lisieux and St. Francis de Sales are my go to authors on the spiritual life in the world.
Funny you should say that -- I have "Introduction to the Devout Life" in my cart at the moment. There are also some volumes of his "letters written to persons in the world."
The question is how close you want to be to Christ. The closer you get the more of what you considered goods you have to give up for the promise of a good that is far better. The monks have chosen the path of the most good. It is not to say that those things which you defend are not good or that they are bad. There is just something better.
Give me a menologion of the saints of the world! And give me determination to find the holiness in each of them, in spite of whatever hot mess may surround it."
Long before I discovered Orthodoxy, Nietzsche was very much akin to a saint for me, and even now, whenever I come across some insight of his, I'm reminded of what drew me to him in the first place, and why I still appreciate him now, even knowing his faults, and I still think he had a keener sense of the divine within this world than many pious Christians, Orthodox or otherwise. I recall coming across a description of him as a "damned saint."
👏👏👏 I deeply appreciate this post. It's a major mental block for me as a catechumen. In my strange twists and turns to get where I am, I've seen (experienced) sex as deeply spiritual, allowing for connection as well as pointing to something transcendent. I've also experienced the very simple way that physical touch can heal things that the medical sphere could not. I... really can't look at those experiences and say they came from something dark. Having said that, I've also seen how, as you said, it can be a hot mess and when aspects are disordered, it all gets twisted.
Still... I am deeply uncomfortable with dismissing this part of our humanity outright. I'm trying to take it in stride, and in moments of quiet clarity I feel like it's maybe something I don't have to worry about at the moment.
As a counter point - I'm currently listening to the audiobook version of the book Thinking Orthodox. In it she explains at length how monks or monastics are not necessarily the best spiritual leaders for us ordinary folk, since they ascribe to a much higher level of asceticism and rigidity than we do, and they won't be as familiar with the struggles we face. Maybe something like this could apply here?
Glad it was of some use! To you last point, perhaps yes, though the notion of a "higher" level of asceticism sounds to me like the renunciation is still being proposed as an ideal which we layfolk can approach but not reach, making us perpetual inferiors to the "real" ascetics who go all the way and are continent (not your intention, I know, but a clear subtext of the tradition). But then my question is -- where are the exemplars for us? Who are they? Martyrs are inspiring but are only tangentially relevant to us -- we can be inspired by their faithfulness under duress but their experience hardly maps to ours in a world without that kind of persecution. Lay saints? There are some, but most are praised precisely because they (miraculously!) were ascetics (i.e. celibates) in the world. I am still left looking at the kinds of figures I mention at the end of the piece, and discerning where to take inspiration from them and where to correct them...
Yeah, that's more or less where my mind goes following that line of questioning too. The aim always seems to be for that highest level of asceticism to which we will always fail. I too would love some more relatable examples.
My wonderful spiritual father, an archpriest with many years of pastoral wisdom, did tell me once when I asked if monasticism was a higher calling than marriage (because the parish I attended acts as if it is), that he thought not. Monasticism is easier. It’s an asceticism without distractions and can be solely focused. Try not yelling at your children when you feel furious and the house is a mess and you can’t pay the bills this month. Try loving your husband through action when he has been less-than-helpful or is going through a long bout of depression. Try staying soft and open to life and relationships when you have been wounded by a friend. Try giving your all at a job you hate but must keep doing to provide for your family. Try holding your tongue when you want to snap back at your mentally ill mother while you are cooking dinner with a crying baby on your hip, but choose peace and humility instead. He said asceticism in worldly life, with the concerns of jobs, money, marriage, family, etc. is much more difficult to practice and therefore a higher, harder, more impressive calling. I was like ok go off, Father 🔥
To be fair I'd lose my mind if I tried to live the monastic life so...I'm too weak for it in that way which is precisely why I got married and never once wanted to enter a monastery?
Well put. Admittedly, I haven’t studied too many lives of the saints in my 6 years of Orthodoxy, but I have been particularly drawn to St. Olga of Alaska. She gives me hope and seems to be one of the few examples of a normal, married mother who lived and died normally, however her selfless efforts and service to God through her family & church have shown to be glorious. Her own life was a living and rich asceticism of motherhood, long-suffering in marriage, and service to women. I absolutely love her. In a way, she lived in her own monastic cell, not leaving her village much and staying confined to her home and duties to her parish. (So not someone who was “out” in the world per se, but the life of a wife and mother is rarely spent galavanting out and about and of course tends to be closer to home.) Is that how it always ends up? Tending to your own small “cell”, living unremarkably and humbly, giving your best efforts in all of your callings and laying down your life for those you love? It doesn’t sound so bad but I certainly don’t hear much about Saints who loved music, read poetry, rode horses, were passionate and loving husbands and wives, hosted dinner parties, loved the theatre, etc. Where is everyone’s libido (in the Jungian, life-energy sense)? Is it ok to have one?
Where are the other married saints living in the world that lived normal, undramatic lives and died normal deaths? (I’m still reeling from years ago when I found out about the married saints that agreed to go celibate in marriage or enter the monastery….) I find it increasingly difficult to relate to almost any saint I read about or any saint the churches I attend put forth…which makes me wonder, is there *any* hope for sanctity for me in my non-celibate, complex, normal, beautiful marriage or my non-milkmaid-homesteading-sourdough-homeschooling motherhood?
I’m open to suggestions 🙏 Who/what am I missing here? God bless it all.
So true about marriage/motherhood being harder simply because you're pulled in so many directions. Well I failed at the marriage part lol but raising 3 kids- man. Nearly everything in my day to day life goes towards our monetary and functional survival, and them and their activities. I think that is in part very much why I love St. Olga- who is my patron saint- she was just a normal person who made a difference by being there for the people in her little sphere of influence.
Beautiful. Love that I thought of her to reply to your comment and didn't even know she was your patron! Maybe that was her giving you a little wink. God bless you. You are doing a beautiful job and giving your own Herculean effort in your daily calling, I am sure. Follow St. Olga and serve in your little sphere and be faithful in it. One hour at a time is all we have to do. She will be with you and help you forever I am sure of it <3
Thank you- it's funny because at the time I wrote my original comment, I didn't have a patron saint yet. I was drawn to her immediately though. More recently when I realized I needed to find a saint I wondered how I'd pick one- there are so many! Anyway I prayed, and had another "wink" moment and somehow she just became "real" to me- as in I had the distinct impression of her as a person, with me- it's hard to explain. Then I just knew.
Being a married person within the Church can be truly demoralizing at times, especially when we hear hagiographies of married saints who chose to live as *shudder* "brother and sister".... There are lots of encouragements in the Church to avoid the bad, but the cultivation of desire for the good is equally important!
Saints Peter and Fevronia, too - I think they went monastic.. (who, by the way I absolutely revere and ask for their intercessions in my marriage, and they've helped me)
I think what *really* makes my head explode is when neophytes (always the neophytes) share that little tidbit about him as though it is glorious and so cool and awesome and isn't he holy wow?! and I'm like....I literally freeze up in paralysis because I don't know how to respond because that detail makes my skin crawl and is very confusing to me.
Yes. And I agree with others, this would be a good section for a book.
It's all part of a rejection of life, a rejection of living -- and of living in the world, with other people and other things, which in truth are needed for communion of any kind. So I agree, sometimes art least, with your sentiment that there is cowardice in this retreat, and another kind of sin: a hubris that all you need is yourself to meet the divine. It's an odd impulse, but I also do understand it sometimes: when young I wanted to live in a swamp; to escape the cars and shopping malls and televisions of modern life.
I think this tension is why some young men who might be religious now are instead drawn to vitalism, or without using that name still want to be vitalistic: they fear that lying down and submitting without thinking, without engaging, without being a full man, as another commentor noted David being.
I read some Orthodox who can point to our faith being embodied, and believing in the ultimate goodness of creation and existence... yet they seem like small streams against a river going the other way.
A lot of this resonates the thoughts I’ve been having about sex and sexuality. (I do think there is something very important about celibacy, and that we need celibates living in the real world doing real world things, too, but that’s a different topic.) It seems to me—and here I speak as a gay man in the church—that the church has only just now begun to wrestle with sexuality. Great writing!
Thank you for this thought provoking post. It highlights some of the tendencies and strains that, in my experience in the Church, permeate Orthodoxy. The models and exemplars we are told to look up to and emulate are the Saints, the overwhelming majority of whom were monastics. The message to us living and working in the secular world is to be as monastic as possible, but accept we will probably never advance as far in the spiritual life as our monk and nun spiritual siblings.
I also regularly wrestle with where this leaves me in my professional life as a trial lawyer and litigator. My daily existence is regularly conflict, argument, and engaging the adversarial process. Yet, Saint John Climacus says in step 25 that those who practice humility fear dispute. That helps me little in my daily existence. As you so eloquently ask, where are the Saints to provide examples and guide us in our daily lives?
As usual, I love what you have to say on this subject. I share your thoughts entirely. For myself, I’m more immersed in the western tradition, and as much as I love the medievals, their attitude toward sex is one reason why I can’t take Catholicism seriously when it says its dogma has never changed. Margery Kempe was a mystic who moved out of the house so as to avoid becoming polluted by her husband. The man had horribly asked of her that she eat dinner with him on Friday nights and have sex with him on just that night. But see, that would make her less a bride of Christ. Lewis in his Allegory of Love talks about how medieval attitudes, if not dogmas, were highly negative about sex. It was presented by many as something inherently impure and tolerated only for procreation. This was the very attitude that allowed courtly love traditions to develop on grounds of adulterous love affairs; sex within a sacramental union defiled the sacrament. Better to have romantic love outside the sacrament. St Bernard likewise speaks ill of sex, and Peter Abelard repented of his entire marriage to Heloise because their passion was too strong. He was grateful for his castration because it relieved him of this burden and sin. One of her letters to him on this subject is among the most painful and poignant things I’ve ever read. To act as though Pope St John Paul II and his Theology of the Body was always the Catholic teaching is enough to raise my eyebrows.
And likewise, I’m with you. I never really thought about it in these terms until recently, but the level of feeling I have for many great novelists and poets is akin to how many more theologically minded people than I feel about the saints. The great works are where I find my wisdom and guidance, always subordinate to holy scripture and guided by the wisdom of tradition. But, frankly, I think Dante has a great deal more wisdom on this subject than celibate priests and monks.
She did have a ton of kids, yes. Fair enough, I guess; however, it went way beyond just not wanting to have sex anymore. She moved out of the house, and only came back when her husband fell ill and got injured. That entire section of her autobiography is filled with her complaining about how taking care of her husband took her away from her service of Christ and contemplation of him, saying she’s not even really married to her husband but to Christ, and she was only married to him in the flesh (I believe that was her language). Call that what you want, but whatever it is, it’s not Theology of the Body.
Kempe’s writings are not dogma. Nothing you said is incorrect except stating that any of this is somehow evidence that dogma changed. Attitudes change, dogma hasn’t, JPII/TOB never contradict or break from dogma, only attitudes. I agree with the rest of the discussion I just fail to see your point about the Catholic Church. I discerned EO and RC at the same time and attitudes discussed in this article are what pushed me over to RC to some extent, just my 2¢ I suppose.
You write very well on this topic. If you ever do undertake a book, this should be its theme.
When I was a youth, raised without religion I nonetheless felt a strong religious impulse, I had a powerful sense of the divine and transcendent. I experienced that other world through three modes of relation: my relation to the natural world (including as shaped by human effort), my relation to the arts (especially music and literature), and my relation to the opposite sex. Even today, I cannot imagine the divine except through these relations. Nor can I imagine these relations without the divine.
Thanks very much for that -- it means a great deal to me. My young experience was similar -- perhaps the difficulty comes that for me, later, I also experienced it in consolation for loss, and thus it got tied up with suffering in a certain way that eventually became unbalanced. Hence my having to unwind all this.
Yes, it's all very complicated and often tragic. And I do think there is a deep wisdom at the root of the ascetic/renunciant impulse, even if it has been perverted and misapplied with horrific consequences. Something I learned while still quite young was that there is only one Spirit, one energy of life. If you restrain the sexual expression of that energy, it will out in some other way. This can be turned to good effect. Or it can be disastrous. But powerful it always is. What does Alvy Singer say to Annie Hall... "There goes another novel."
He made a few truly great films, and that was one of them.
That seems to be the crucial point, in my experience, at least: simply restraining the sexual energy isn't an inherent good and can ultimately backfire. It needs to be re-directed and transmuted in to something else. It's a generative force that's much too powerful to allow to remain in a stagnant state.
John Paul II wrote and taught beautifully on this topic. "Love and Responsibility" is s philosophical work written before he became pope (Karol Wojtyla). The "Theology of the Body" is the name he gave to his multi-year series of catechetical talks when he first became pope. Both explore the goodness of marital sexual love and explore the eschatological meaning of vowed celibacy. The Catholic Church has canonized a number of married saints this past century: Louis and Zelie Martin (the parents of St. Therese of Lisieux) were canonized as a couple, and Gianna Beretta Molla, Elizabeth Ann Seton, Thomas More ("A Man for All Seasons") were married but canonized ad individuals (their spouses weren't). If you go back farther you can find Elizabeth of Hungary as s shining example of a saint whose marriage was part of her sanctity.
Bring on the spice!
Here’s a short poem from the Thomas Berry, Catholic priest and monastic:
Earth’s Desire
To be seen
in her loveliness
to be tasted
in her delicious
fruits
to be listened to
in her teaching
to be endured
in the severity
of her discipline
to be experienced
as the maternal
source
whence we come
the destiny
to which we
return
By the way, I agree with you regarding the value of dialogue and conversation with spiritual mentos and friends.
That is wonderful! Which book of his is it from? I have wanted to read him since I saw him called a "geologian."
I don’t know if this poem has been published in a book but it is on a website dedicated to his work: https://thomasberry.org/earths-desire/
I have some other poetry I received from him once, but I’m not sure how much of it was published. He was more known for his scholarly writing.
You missed King David in your list of models,called the man after God’s own heart! A quote from an early church father - “the glory of God is a man fully alive”. David was a fully alive Renaissance man from way before the Renaissance - skilled shepherd, slayer of lion and bear, harpist, poet, singer, warrior, skilled general, knower of God’s voice, inspiration and guidance, poet, judge, king, administrator, liturgist - designed the temple service, architect, diplomat, wily and deceptive as a serpent when that was called for, gave instructions on his deathbed like a Mafia godfather, lover of multiple wives and concubines, beloved by his men who followed him at the risk of their lives, man of prayer. A title of our Savior is Son of David.
A problem that I see is that a layer of sayings and teachings of various saints and fathers is inserted between the believer and direct engagement with the Bible. In the beginning of The Way of the Pilgrim the pilgrim is told that he needs the Philokalia as a means to understand and apply the scriptures.
David was definitely a hot mess of a guy, yet “For David had done what was right IN THE EYES OF THE LORD and had not failed to keep any of the Lord’s commands all the days of his life - except in the case of Uriah the Hittite” 1 Kings 15:5 and Nathan the prophet stated that David”s multiple wives were from God! 2 Samuel 12:8. Whew! It’s complicated isn’t it.
I recall talking to a priest once who told a story about a monk or a priest, I forget the exact details, who was in some process of initiation with a superior. And the superior unfairly berated him publicly in order to test his submission. Apparently he passed the test and took his lashing with head bowed. The priest telling this story presented it as such a virtuous thing to be admired. I found it one of the more pathetic stories I’ve heard. An actual humiliation ritual.
Such a timely piece, my friend. Wonderfully written as always. Klages has certainly had me pondering recently whether the typical Christian notion of salvation is not merely a petrification of the narcissistic ego in the worst possible and potentially unredeemable state. That of a purely individualistic salvation and neurotic concern with the standing of one's own "soul". Which may seem unrelated to what you have spoken of here to some. I know, however, you will understand my grievance.
I see exactly the connection. More than connection: it's the same problem.
As a cradle Orthodox I found the Church to be quite the hotbed of narcissism. It’s a big part of why I stopped going. So many people terribly worried about theological debates and being in the “true church” that they forget something as basic as spending time with their own children. Not because they simply have to work a lot to feed their family but because they need to seek out some strange intellectually masturbatory practice, often online.
Sad.
Sounds like you should be Catholic
Ah brother! Well spotted. I almost became a Catholic when I reconciled with the Church after some time in the wilderness. I even toyed with the idea of secretly communing in both churches and not telling either one about it. In the end, that felt like it would be dishonest to both; and in the end, the Orthodox Church is simply my home; after all these years, my soul is shaped like the Orthodox liturgy, and I can’t spend another Pascha away from it. So here I am, I hope a witness for the beauty of Catholicism to the Orthodox.
I am glad you chose to be honest on the matter, though I agree that many difficulties you bring up are addressed more often in Catholic authors than in Orthodox ones. Someone else mentioned John Paul II’s whole Theology of the Body (which, in its popular form, I think leads to underestimating the dangers of sex!), but I am thinking more of St. Francis de Sales’ Introduction to the Devout Life. He starts with a definition of devotion and then talks about how silly it would be for married person to act like a nun, or even for a bishop to pray like a Carthusian. He is wary of the dangers presented by dances, but acknowledges that life involves stepping over this earth and so gives counsel to venture through it well.
Disclaimer: I love reading St. John Cassian and all those desert guys. But I only tend to recommend them to people who may actually enter religious life. Otherwise St. Therese of Lisieux and St. Francis de Sales are my go to authors on the spiritual life in the world.
Funny you should say that -- I have "Introduction to the Devout Life" in my cart at the moment. There are also some volumes of his "letters written to persons in the world."
The question is how close you want to be to Christ. The closer you get the more of what you considered goods you have to give up for the promise of a good that is far better. The monks have chosen the path of the most good. It is not to say that those things which you defend are not good or that they are bad. There is just something better.
"Give me ... Nietzsche ...
Give me a menologion of the saints of the world! And give me determination to find the holiness in each of them, in spite of whatever hot mess may surround it."
Long before I discovered Orthodoxy, Nietzsche was very much akin to a saint for me, and even now, whenever I come across some insight of his, I'm reminded of what drew me to him in the first place, and why I still appreciate him now, even knowing his faults, and I still think he had a keener sense of the divine within this world than many pious Christians, Orthodox or otherwise. I recall coming across a description of him as a "damned saint."
👏👏👏 I deeply appreciate this post. It's a major mental block for me as a catechumen. In my strange twists and turns to get where I am, I've seen (experienced) sex as deeply spiritual, allowing for connection as well as pointing to something transcendent. I've also experienced the very simple way that physical touch can heal things that the medical sphere could not. I... really can't look at those experiences and say they came from something dark. Having said that, I've also seen how, as you said, it can be a hot mess and when aspects are disordered, it all gets twisted.
Still... I am deeply uncomfortable with dismissing this part of our humanity outright. I'm trying to take it in stride, and in moments of quiet clarity I feel like it's maybe something I don't have to worry about at the moment.
As a counter point - I'm currently listening to the audiobook version of the book Thinking Orthodox. In it she explains at length how monks or monastics are not necessarily the best spiritual leaders for us ordinary folk, since they ascribe to a much higher level of asceticism and rigidity than we do, and they won't be as familiar with the struggles we face. Maybe something like this could apply here?
Glad it was of some use! To you last point, perhaps yes, though the notion of a "higher" level of asceticism sounds to me like the renunciation is still being proposed as an ideal which we layfolk can approach but not reach, making us perpetual inferiors to the "real" ascetics who go all the way and are continent (not your intention, I know, but a clear subtext of the tradition). But then my question is -- where are the exemplars for us? Who are they? Martyrs are inspiring but are only tangentially relevant to us -- we can be inspired by their faithfulness under duress but their experience hardly maps to ours in a world without that kind of persecution. Lay saints? There are some, but most are praised precisely because they (miraculously!) were ascetics (i.e. celibates) in the world. I am still left looking at the kinds of figures I mention at the end of the piece, and discerning where to take inspiration from them and where to correct them...
Yeah, that's more or less where my mind goes following that line of questioning too. The aim always seems to be for that highest level of asceticism to which we will always fail. I too would love some more relatable examples.
My wonderful spiritual father, an archpriest with many years of pastoral wisdom, did tell me once when I asked if monasticism was a higher calling than marriage (because the parish I attended acts as if it is), that he thought not. Monasticism is easier. It’s an asceticism without distractions and can be solely focused. Try not yelling at your children when you feel furious and the house is a mess and you can’t pay the bills this month. Try loving your husband through action when he has been less-than-helpful or is going through a long bout of depression. Try staying soft and open to life and relationships when you have been wounded by a friend. Try giving your all at a job you hate but must keep doing to provide for your family. Try holding your tongue when you want to snap back at your mentally ill mother while you are cooking dinner with a crying baby on your hip, but choose peace and humility instead. He said asceticism in worldly life, with the concerns of jobs, money, marriage, family, etc. is much more difficult to practice and therefore a higher, harder, more impressive calling. I was like ok go off, Father 🔥
1000%. Monasticism is the easy path, for the weak LOL!
To be fair I'd lose my mind if I tried to live the monastic life so...I'm too weak for it in that way which is precisely why I got married and never once wanted to enter a monastery?
Well put. Admittedly, I haven’t studied too many lives of the saints in my 6 years of Orthodoxy, but I have been particularly drawn to St. Olga of Alaska. She gives me hope and seems to be one of the few examples of a normal, married mother who lived and died normally, however her selfless efforts and service to God through her family & church have shown to be glorious. Her own life was a living and rich asceticism of motherhood, long-suffering in marriage, and service to women. I absolutely love her. In a way, she lived in her own monastic cell, not leaving her village much and staying confined to her home and duties to her parish. (So not someone who was “out” in the world per se, but the life of a wife and mother is rarely spent galavanting out and about and of course tends to be closer to home.) Is that how it always ends up? Tending to your own small “cell”, living unremarkably and humbly, giving your best efforts in all of your callings and laying down your life for those you love? It doesn’t sound so bad but I certainly don’t hear much about Saints who loved music, read poetry, rode horses, were passionate and loving husbands and wives, hosted dinner parties, loved the theatre, etc. Where is everyone’s libido (in the Jungian, life-energy sense)? Is it ok to have one?
Where are the other married saints living in the world that lived normal, undramatic lives and died normal deaths? (I’m still reeling from years ago when I found out about the married saints that agreed to go celibate in marriage or enter the monastery….) I find it increasingly difficult to relate to almost any saint I read about or any saint the churches I attend put forth…which makes me wonder, is there *any* hope for sanctity for me in my non-celibate, complex, normal, beautiful marriage or my non-milkmaid-homesteading-sourdough-homeschooling motherhood?
I’m open to suggestions 🙏 Who/what am I missing here? God bless it all.
Wish I had an answer for you... "Where is everyone's libido/eros," exactly...
So true about marriage/motherhood being harder simply because you're pulled in so many directions. Well I failed at the marriage part lol but raising 3 kids- man. Nearly everything in my day to day life goes towards our monetary and functional survival, and them and their activities. I think that is in part very much why I love St. Olga- who is my patron saint- she was just a normal person who made a difference by being there for the people in her little sphere of influence.
Beautiful. Love that I thought of her to reply to your comment and didn't even know she was your patron! Maybe that was her giving you a little wink. God bless you. You are doing a beautiful job and giving your own Herculean effort in your daily calling, I am sure. Follow St. Olga and serve in your little sphere and be faithful in it. One hour at a time is all we have to do. She will be with you and help you forever I am sure of it <3
Thank you- it's funny because at the time I wrote my original comment, I didn't have a patron saint yet. I was drawn to her immediately though. More recently when I realized I needed to find a saint I wondered how I'd pick one- there are so many! Anyway I prayed, and had another "wink" moment and somehow she just became "real" to me- as in I had the distinct impression of her as a person, with me- it's hard to explain. Then I just knew.
So beautiful and that's how it is with the special saints for us. What a gift.
Oof, this one is a beautifully written doozy!
Being a married person within the Church can be truly demoralizing at times, especially when we hear hagiographies of married saints who chose to live as *shudder* "brother and sister".... There are lots of encouragements in the Church to avoid the bad, but the cultivation of desire for the good is equally important!
The married brother and sister saints really make me lose some sleep at night….
I know! And it's St John of Kronstadt and his wife, for goodness' sake! I love him, I truly do! What the heckin heck as the kids say!
Saints Peter and Fevronia, too - I think they went monastic.. (who, by the way I absolutely revere and ask for their intercessions in my marriage, and they've helped me)
Only at the end of their lives. They’re a marvellous story. I venerate their icon every Sunday.
I love that he chose her over his kingdom and that she was a village beekeeper. Yes please, this, more of this.
I think what *really* makes my head explode is when neophytes (always the neophytes) share that little tidbit about him as though it is glorious and so cool and awesome and isn't he holy wow?! and I'm like....I literally freeze up in paralysis because I don't know how to respond because that detail makes my skin crawl and is very confusing to me.
Convertitis is real.
Yes. And I agree with others, this would be a good section for a book.
It's all part of a rejection of life, a rejection of living -- and of living in the world, with other people and other things, which in truth are needed for communion of any kind. So I agree, sometimes art least, with your sentiment that there is cowardice in this retreat, and another kind of sin: a hubris that all you need is yourself to meet the divine. It's an odd impulse, but I also do understand it sometimes: when young I wanted to live in a swamp; to escape the cars and shopping malls and televisions of modern life.
I think this tension is why some young men who might be religious now are instead drawn to vitalism, or without using that name still want to be vitalistic: they fear that lying down and submitting without thinking, without engaging, without being a full man, as another commentor noted David being.
I read some Orthodox who can point to our faith being embodied, and believing in the ultimate goodness of creation and existence... yet they seem like small streams against a river going the other way.
Thanks for your writing as always.
A lot of this resonates the thoughts I’ve been having about sex and sexuality. (I do think there is something very important about celibacy, and that we need celibates living in the real world doing real world things, too, but that’s a different topic.) It seems to me—and here I speak as a gay man in the church—that the church has only just now begun to wrestle with sexuality. Great writing!
Your litany needs more fictional characters in it! I almost read Rachmaninov as Raskolnikov.
It absolutely absolutely does, please repoast with your favorites!
Thank you for this thought provoking post. It highlights some of the tendencies and strains that, in my experience in the Church, permeate Orthodoxy. The models and exemplars we are told to look up to and emulate are the Saints, the overwhelming majority of whom were monastics. The message to us living and working in the secular world is to be as monastic as possible, but accept we will probably never advance as far in the spiritual life as our monk and nun spiritual siblings.
I also regularly wrestle with where this leaves me in my professional life as a trial lawyer and litigator. My daily existence is regularly conflict, argument, and engaging the adversarial process. Yet, Saint John Climacus says in step 25 that those who practice humility fear dispute. That helps me little in my daily existence. As you so eloquently ask, where are the Saints to provide examples and guide us in our daily lives?