There were two monks who committed a
very serious sin when they went to the village to sell their wares. But they
were wise enough not to let the devil trick them into discouragement and so
they came back to the desert and went to the Abba to confess their sins. To
ease them into their conversion, they were asked to go and live on their own
for one month on bread and water, to pray and do penance.
When the time was over, Abba himself
came over to reunite them with the disciples. However he was very surprised
because one came out grim, downcast, pale while the other was radiant, buoyant
and brisk. "What did you meditate upon?" Abba asked.
The sad monk answered : "I thought
constantly on the punishment which I merit and the justice of God". The
happy monk answered : "Well, I used to remind myself constantly of the
mercy of God and the love which Jesus Christ had for the sinner."
Both of them were joyfully accepted
back in the community but Abba remarked on the wisdom of the brother who kept
his mind fixed on the compassion of God.
Desert Father Stories
Reflection – One humorous (to us) note about this
story is that to ease (!) these two monks into their conversion, they were put
on bread and water and solitary confinement for a month. That’s ‘easing’ in
desert father world, I guess! I don’t think too many of us would be very
impressed with being given that as a penance, even if we had murdered someone.
Of course that’s not the point of the
story – in fact, that is pretty ordinary unremarkable stuff by the standards of
the fathers, which itself bears some reflection. I’m not advocating priests
commonly handing out hard, heavy penances to people, but we could give some
thought to our own personal practice of penance in light of our sins and the
sins of the world.
But the point, of course, is what we
fix our mind on, and the difference that makes in our joy. Again, note that
neither of these monks spent much time meditating on how they really weren’t
such bad guys, and all this sin business is kind of stupid, and the Church
needs to get with the times, and really, I’m a good person.
No, they both knew full well that they
were sinners, they were messed up and had messed up, and neither of them was
giving a lot of mental real estate to their own selves. That, too, is worth our
considering, isn’t it? Quite often these days a lot of the pseudo-spirituality
and pop psychology of our church culture is really self-aggrandizement dressed
up in a pious cloak.
But really, the nub of the story is how
we deal with our sins, how we deal with the fact that we really are on the outs
with God and with our brothers and sisters in some fundamental way. One monk
trembled in fear and anxiety over this, one monk rejoiced in the infinite mercy
of God. Both are reconciled, but one is sad, the other joyous.
Of course, if you think of it, the one
who is filled with fear and anxiety and sadness is, in his own way, falling
into a subtle snare of pride, one of the trickier ones. To have an excessive
and exaggerated sorrow over one’s sins can imply that I am grieved that someone
as wonderful as myself should have possibly fallen into such a state. ‘How
could I, I, have done this thing?’ And to be filled with fear and
anxiety over God’s anger and God’s punishment can also have a little pride
component, too. Somehow it’s on us to fix it, to earn God’s favor, to make
ourselves not so displeasing to Him.
No, the monk who simply turns his mind
and heart to the infinite and tender mercy of God, knowing full well that he is
a sinner who needs that mercy, but constant marveling and rejoicing at the gift
given, is both on the path of joy and on the path of true humility.
