Daily Meditations

A Layman in the Desert (Preface, Part II)

It often seems that we Orthodox only end up spinning our wheels when we try to answer questions… with reference to monastic literature. While we probably have a clear sense that there is something to be learned about such topics there, we do not always have a good picture of how to really find this value while also respecting the basic integrity and purpose of these texts.

One of the key sources of this problem is that we have not developed a sufficiently clear sense of what Orthodox life in the world is really about at a theoretical level, rather than a practical one. In today’s Church, we are more and more surrounded by resources, from good pastors, to good books, that provide a great deal of guidance on the practicalities of worldly life. We are, for instance, encouraged to confess more often, commune more often, and go to church more often. Perhaps we are advised to repeat the Jesus Prayer on the bus, eat a little later during lent, or light a candle in church for a colleague who has done wrong by us-excellent practices and easily carried out. Yet, we seldom seem to reflect on what life as a lay person really is at its core-what its essential spiritual character and purpose are-and as a result we tend to misunderstand ourselves, our place in the Church, and our path to salvation. When we pick tip books by monks and nuns without a strong understanding of who we are, we face a tremendous barrier to understanding their meaning as it relates to our own lives.

This is in part because we often seem to think of Christians in the world as sub-novice monks or nuns living an extremely pared-down form of monastic life. We see ourselves doing this by catching moments of peace, silence and prayer when we can, fasting as we are able, receiving the Eucharist at most once a week, and confessing to a spiritual father (if we are fortunate to have one) or our parish priest every month or so. We often seem to think to ourselves, “do what the monks and nuns do as much as you can, though you will not be able to do very much of it. Find moments to do it more, and live for these moments, braving the rough waters between.” There is, of course, a serious problem with this approach. In the main, it encourages us to profoundly compartmentalize ourselves and our lives. It becomes very hard for us to see ourselves as Christians in any meaningful way during those times when we are at the office and actually working, or at home cooking dinner for the family, or downtown doing our shopping. We begin to see these activities as accidentals-unavoidable for us, of course, but merely necessary impediments to the real work of our spiritual lives, which we are trying to live as those “sub-novice” monks and nuns in the city. For some, the result is despair and frustration; in trying to live a monk’s life in the world, we fail and curse ourselves for weakness. For others, and indeed probably most, thinking like a “sub-novice” ends in attempts to make life ever “easier” on ourselves spiritually. We may fast less rigorously, pray less often, or attend to other business on Sunday mornings. Hopeless as it is to become a true monk or nun while raising a family, we merely let ourselves go completely. Indeed, a startling number of Orthodox Christians today have slipped into such patterns over the course of generations to the point that nearly the whole of their Christian life often amounts to the lighting of a candle on Pascha night before departing prior to the liturgy in order to get to bed on time. Such people have become the ultimate “sub-novice” monks, first dividing worldly concerns from spiritual ones in their minds, and then allowing these worldly concerns to take more and more of their time until they have stripped away everything of spirituality down to the very last and most sacred remnants, and these often preserved only thanks to mysterious pangs of conscience.

When not casting ourselves as “sub-novice” monastics, we Orthodox lay people, especially those who are devout, are often tempted to begin thinking of ourselves as “sub-sub-deacons” whose salvation is to be found primarily in and through our local parish church. Part of the reason for this may be the fact that many, perhaps most, of the books being written today specifically for Orthodox Christian lay people in the world are being written by priests, and thus bear much of a priest’s perspective. A parish priest, it is true, lives a great deal of his life under the same circumstances as a lay person. Yet, a parish priest has the burden and luxury of building his life in Christ on his ministry. For the priest, salvation is found especially in and through the parish and his attentive work as a pastor and liturgist. For the lay person, however, the parish cannot really be the primary place in which salvation is sought because it is not the primary place in which lay people live their lives. Indeed, even the most devoted and active of parish members (and we should be devoted and active) almost certainly spends less time on parish life than in cooking daily meals, to say nothing about going to work and tending to the family. We are no more “sub-sub-deacons” than we arc “sub-novices.”

~ Daniel G. Opperwall, A Layman in the Desert