The Letters of Barsanuphius and John

Desert Wisdom for Everyday Life

John Chryssavgis

• Editorial: T&T Clark
• Año: 2022
• ISBN:
  9780567704863
• Edición: 1
• Categoría: Theology & Religion
• Categoría: Theology

Revealing unexpected truths about early desert spirituality, this volume argues that the lives of Barsanuphius and John relate closely to contemporary urban communities and how clergy tackle social challenges. The early Desert Fathers and Mothers have exercised a particular charm and appeal in recent years, but they have often been portrayed as inaccessible and eccentric figures in the history of monastic spirituality. John Chryssavgis argues that the elders have an unusual capacity to reach into the depths of the heart to reveal the extraordinary in the very ordinary, and that the correspondence between Barsanuphius and John offers an unparalleled glimpse into the sixth-century religious, political, and secular world. It opens with an exploration into the historical context of Palestinian monasticism, followed by an evaluation of the fundamental principles and practices of Barsanuphius and John.

PART ONE

The Desert Blossoms

Setting the Scene

1

Monasticism in Egypt and Palestine

A Historical Framework

Palestine and Gaza

Palestine is divided into two distinct monastic regions: the first is centered around the Holy City and incorporates the territory around Jerusalem as far as the Dead Sea; the second lies in the southern province around Gaza.

Monastics in Palestine were generally conscious of their biblical roots owing to the historical significance of the region in the development of Jewish and Christian Scriptures. Barsanuphius is convinced that it is here that “God revealed the way of life through the prophets and the apostles” (Letter 605). This is, after all, the land where the prophets once wandered, the desert where Jesus personally retreated in prayer, and the soil where Christianity was first planted.¹

Monastics of Palestine have a keen recollection of the martyrs and confessors, who offered the ultimate ascetic sacrifice, beginning with the death of Stephen in Acts 7. Barsanuphius delights in drawing connections between the monk and the martyr: “To renounce one’s own will is a sacrifice of blood. It signifies that one has reached the point of laboring to death and of ignoring one’s own will” (Letter 254).²

On account of its privileged status and strategic location—geography, climate, and history—the region of Gaza, where Barsanuphius and John would ultimately settle, proved a remarkable place of welcome and embrace for Christian monasticism after the fourth century. Its accessibility by sea and road, its proximity to Egypt, Syria, and the Holy Land, but also its prominence in Hellenistic and Roman times, rendered Gaza a significant and suitable haven for emerging models of ascetic life in its spiritual and intellectual expressions. Indeed, as a major commercial area from biblical times, this southern coastal region would remain coveted territory across centuries to our time.

Thus, in the southern parts of Palestine, Gaza soon begins to enjoy its own proper history of monasticism, the origins of which are recorded by Jerome and Epiphanius. Hilarion (292–372) lived here for almost twenty years. Born in Thawatha, five miles south of Gaza, he was schooled in Alexandria, where he encountered Anthony the Great, the celebrated father of monasticism. Upon returning home, Hilarion moved into a small cell near the port of Maiouma where he received numerous visitors. Around 356—coincidentally the year of Anthony’s death—he decided to spend his final years in Cyprus in order to avoid the increasing number of pilgrims traveling to Palestine.

It is in the same tradition and in the same region, not far off in the desert, that a remarkable monastic community appears at the beginning of the sixth century, centered around two elders living in strict seclusion—Barsanuphius the Great and John the Prophet—who quickly acquired a reputation as charismatic counselors.

The Sayings and the Letters

The Letters of Barsanuphius and John, which date to the first half of the sixth century, frequently evoke and regularly quote from the wisdom of the Sayings of the Desert Fathers. There are at least eighty direct references to the Apophthegmata, while numerous phrases suggest them as the foundation of spiritual progress, “leading the soul to spiritual satisfaction and humility” (Letter 547). Their disciple, Dorotheus of Gaza, repeatedly cites the Sayings and is the first writer to designate the Apophthegmata by the conventional name that they have come down to us, namely, The Gerontikon (The Book of the Old Men).³ Might Dorotheus be one of those actually associated with or responsible for the collection of these sayings?

Beyond explicit and extensive similarities between Egyptian and Palestinian practices and principles, the letters of Barsanuphius and John—especially those addressed to Dorotheus of Gaza (Letters 252–338)—retain an element that gradually recedes from the Sayings of the Desert Fathers, as these begin to be collated and edited. The original, oral transmission of the Egyptian wisdom invariably preserved the spontaneity of the advice and actions of the desert fathers and mothers. However, during the transition from a verbal culture to a written text, the sayings become more static and readers inevitably lose sight of the personal element that originally sparked and spurred these aphorisms.

More particularly, readers and listeners begin to misplace the process and struggle that initially spawned and shaped these words. What is “received” of course is the culmination or consummation of wisdom, though without any insight into the various stages and struggles that led to the final product. What is missing however is the ongoing process—all the traces of contention, hesitation, and limitation—that characterized the spiritual aspirant approaching the desert sages. What is therefore sometimes misplaced is the internal grind that initiates the informed support, the transpiring conversation behind the transcribed correspondence. These letters are the longer narrative that inherently sustains the personal story. They make sense of the bad in light of the good, perpetually grounding the experience and deepening the perspective. Ultimately, the letters expose recipients and readers alike to a wider screen picture that contains and simultaneously explains the adventure of tribulation in the context of transformation.

Briefly put, the correspondence of Barsanuphius and John provides a personal and cultural framework for the Apophthegmata of the desert elders. The Sayings of the Desert Fathers presents the spiritual reality in the way it should be, rather than in the way it is—with all its denial, doubt, and distress. More often than not, the Sayings conceal the intense and interminable struggle that is not always transparent in their brevity and conciseness. Whereas the Letters of Barsanuphius and John allow us to witness each of the painful phases as they unfold—almost in slow motion. What might normally take place on a face-to-face level is recorded in writing, with all of the mutuality and back-and-forth of a personal relationship. Neither the authors of the letters nor the compiler of the correspondence attempts to conceal the innate challenges and tensions of the spiritual process. As the French translator of the correspondence, Lucien Regnault, so eloquently, writes: “What the Sayings of the Desert Fathers allows us to glimpse only in the form of fleeting images, is here [in the Letters of Barsanuphius and John] played out like a film before our very eyes.”⁴

The following exchange of letters is one among many examples that highlight this spiritual progress and literary progression in analyzing the intricacies and vagaries of the spiritual way:

Question from the same brother to the same Old Man: If a brother does something insignificant, but I am afflicted by this act on account of my own will, what should I do? Should I keep silent and not give rest to my heart, or should I speak to him with love and not remain troubled? Moreover, if the matter afflicts others, and not just me, should I speak for the sake of the others? Or would this appear as if I have merely taken on a cause?

Response by John. If the matter is not sinful but insignificant, and you speak simply to give rest to your heart, then it is to your defeat. For you were not able to endure it as a result of your weakness. Just blame yourself and remain silent. However, if the matter afflicts other brothers, then tell your Abbot; and whether he speaks personally or else tells you to speak, you will be carefree. (Letter 293)

Question from the same person to the same Old Man: If I speak to the Abbot for the sake of the others, I suspect that the brother will be troubled; so what should I do? Furthermore, if he afflicts both the others and me, should I speak for the sake of the others, or should I keep silent in order not to indulge myself? If I suspect that he will not be grieved, should I also speak for myself, or should I force myself against doing this?

Response by John. As far as the turmoil of the brother is concerned, if you speak to the Abbot, then you have nothing to worry about. Whenever it is necessary to speak for the sake of others, and you are worried about it, then speak for them. As for yourself, always force yourself not to speak. (Letter 294)

Question from the same person to the same Old Man: But my thought tells me that if my brother is troubled against me, he will become my enemy, thinking that I slandered him to the Abbot.

Response by John. This thought of yours is wicked; for it wants to prevent you from correcting your brother. Therefore, do not prevent yourself from speaking, but do so according to God. Even sick people that need to be healed will speak against their doctors; yet the latter do not care, knowing that the same people will thank them afterward. (Letter 295)

Question from the same person to the same Old Man: If I examine my thought and notice that it is not in fact for the brother’s benefit that I wish to speak to the Abbot, but with the purpose of slandering him, should I still speak or keep silent?

Response by John. Advise your thought to speak according to God and not for the sake of slander. If your thought is conquered by criticism, then speak to your Abbot and confess your criticism, so that both of you may be healed—the one who was at fault as well as the one who was critical. (Letter 296)

Question from the same person to the same Old Man: But if my thought does not allow me to confess to the Abbot because I would be speaking to him with the purpose of slandering the brother, what should I do? Should I speak or not?

Response. Do not say anything to him, and the Lord will take care of the matter. For it is not necessary for you to speak when it harms your soul. God will take care of the brother’s correction as he pleases. (Letter 297)

Other similar series of letters reveal the same gradation of reasoning or graduation of deliberation: on prayer (Letters 438–47), good deeds (Letters 401–13), spiritual thoughts (Letters 448–9), conversations with friends (Letters 469–76), blessings at meals (Letters 716–19), personal relationships (Letters 489–91), doctrinal issues (Letters 694–704), and almsgiving (Letters 617–36), as well as bad habits (Letters 433–7), treatment of servants (653–7), legal issues (Letters 667–73), and even real estate negotiations (Letters 486–8).

Much like his predecessor Isaiah of Scetis and his successor Dorotheus of Gaza, Barsanuphius displays certain characteristics both in common with and in contrast to the desert dwellers of Egypt. For instance, all three of them are balanced and non-polemical in their disposition and counsel. They scarcely reveal any traits of confessional bias and rift that plagued so much of Christendom during this volatile period, preferring instead to remain cautiously and consciously reticent on the numerous divisive and complex doctrinal debates of their time.

In this regard, Barsanuphius and John are far less militant and far more moderate than their sixth-century colleagues in Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian circles alike.⁵ Moreover, nowhere in the vast correspondence of Barsanuphius and John is there any clear or explicit denunciation or defense of the Chalcedonian definition. Their disciples are equally encouraged to abstain from participating in such debates as well as from reproaching those who choose to take sides.

Surprisingly, the elders even allow room for disputation of advice received and for disagreement on opinions expressed (Letter 607). In fact, Barsanuphius and John will sometimes offer diverging or dissimilar advice: the former prefers his disciples to avoid excessive theological reading (Letters 600–7), while the latter recommends discernment in selecting theological books (Letters 600 and 604). Nonetheless, the teaching of the two elders should be neither amalgamated nor conflated in any simplistic or sweeping manner;⁶ after all, Barsanuphius is convinced that his God is exactly the same as the God of John (Letters 20 and 224).

It is no wonder, then, that while iconographic depictions of the two Palestinian elders are generally uncommon, even virtually nonexistent, an icon of the “great old man” graces the altar-cloth in frescoes dating from the tenure of Patriarch Tarasios (784–806) in the Great Church of the Holy Wisdom in Constantinople, alongside monastic pioneers like Anthony of Egypt and Ephraim the Syrian.⁷ This may also be why Theodore the Studite (759–826) was subsequently anxious to defend the orthodoxy of Isaiah, Barsanuphius, and Dorotheus.⁸ Certainly Barsanuph...

Índice

• Cover
• Halftitle page
• Title Page
• Contents
• List of Illustrations
• Foreword
• Introduction
• Part One: The Desert Blossoms: Setting the Scene
• Part Two: The Desert Beckons: Sitting by the Cell
• Conclusion
• Select Bibliography
• Acknowledgments
• Index
• Imprint