The Apostle Paul says: He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord: But he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife (1 Cor. 7:32-33).
This saying may be somewhat alarming to anyone who has a family and the related concerns. Here we could start a conversation about the possibility of salvation for any Christian living in the world; however, considering that it’s Great Lent, let’s take a slightly different path and turn our attention to the monastic podvig, and more precisely, to our ability to be included in it.
It’s not very hard to do it in theory, but much more difficult in practice. I think we should begin by recalling that everyone who receives the monastic tonsure takes three vows: chastity, poverty, and obedience. Now let’s look at the applicability of each of these in our, not so every-day, fasting lives.
Chastity (celibacy)
Obviously we’re not going to renounce our husbands and wives, and those who don’t have a family yet but desire to have one commit no sin, therefore, this podvig, in a literal reading, is by default not available to us. Even future celibates can fornicate, and therefore we all understand perfectly well that here we should talk, first of all, about abstinence and the fight with the most common vice today.
If refusing carnal relations for seven weeks isn’t a big problem, especially considering that the dietary restrictions contribute to this, then the situation with our thoughts is usually much more complicated. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that everything is “steeped” with fornication today. With spring it gets warmer. The Orthodox have a strict fast at this time, while for most people around them a time of “undressing” has come. Advertisements on the streets and indoors, the sound, the smells (especially considering that gluttony and lust go hand in hand), some people at work, on the bus and on the sidewalk—all of this can provoke lustful thoughts, and we remember the words of Christ: Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart (Mt. 5:28). Lust tries to break into our souls today by any available means. But, even locked up at home, it’s incredibly difficult to hide from it, since everyone has a telephone and a computer. You don’t even have to go to any depraved sites—it’s enough just to open some news feed and something like this catches your eye, whether willingly or unwillingly.
In response to all of this, we can turn to the words of St. Basil the Great: “We must practice temperance, which serves as a reliable guardian of chastity, not allowing the leader—the mind—to flail here and there.” Thus, when it comes to temperance, we’re not just taking about the flesh. If you just clench your teeth and endure, then it’s also possible not to endure—it’s also important to have internal limitations. But again, it begins with external actions, because we mustn’t give vice or an unclean spirit even a chance. As soon as our mind is hooked on a lustful thought, we’re already “on the hook.”
Therefore, at least during Lent, let’s exclude reading the news, getting on social networks, and even watching Orthodox videos on YouTube, because this “scoundrel” can slip us something interesting specifically for us, even if we were distracted by some superfluous video just once half a year ago (it “remembers” everything, and if it arouses an interest in us, then from there it’s a matter of technology in every sense). I think there’s another rule that will help fight against lustful thoughts: Don’t leave the house without a good book. You can read at the bus stop, on public transportation, in line, and so on—having accustomed ourselves to this, our gaze will always be focused on some useful text, and the mind on the thoughts contained in it.
Poverty (non-acquisitiveness)
Again, we can say that we are not monks and cannot be without property, but here it’s not the fact of having property that’s important, but the attachment to it; although, of course, this “golden mean” is extremely difficult to sustain.
If we try to apply the virtue of non-acquisitiveness to our daily experience, it should be manifested in the most accessible limitation of material goods and charity. It all starts with restriction in food and those digital “goods” that I have already mentioned.
Concerning food, I’d like to make a small clarification. In my small priestly experience of ministry, I’ve had to deal with Christians using soy “meat” and “milk” in their food, as well as various kinds of seafood. Formally, this doesn’t violate the fast, but I think that in the first case, it’s still, whether conscious or unconscious, an attempt to find a meat or milk substitute. Regarding shellfish and shrimp, the Typikon is silent, although here I would like to recall the words of St. Gregory of Nyssa, who said that it’s not enough for people to eat what runs or grows—no, for the sake of consoling their stomachs they descend even into the depths of the oceans to catch some sea creatures and eat them.
Anyways, let’s move away from “gastronomic” conversations to more elevated topics. “It is known that to not have many needs is recognized as the greatest good… but it’s also recognized that it’s a much higher wellbeing to be above even the need to have anything of your own,” writes St. Isidore of Pelusium. Here we return to where we started—attachment to earthly goods. In Lent, we still continue to work and earn money, but there’s an important point here—what is all this for? Not for myself, not for the sake of acquiring something for myself in principle, but for the sake of others, those close to us and those “far” from us who are still in great need of our help. And with regard to another motivational point, we must recall the words of St. Isaac the Syrian: “No one can acquire true non-acquisitiveness if he is not prepared to endure temptations with joy.” Come again? There are enough temptations in our lives, but during Lent let’s not even think about murmuring, beginning with headaches and bad weather and ending with more serious trials.
Obedience
Many Christians have problems with obedience. Life can go on quite peacefully, without any particular commotion, but if we’re unjustly yelled at by our boss at work or a friend does something unfair, then our inner “demon” of pride and self-love makes itself felt.
I’ve even come across Christians who left the long line to confession because the priest was talking too long with someone or some babushka at the candle stand dared to move their candle to a different spot. This would seem to be the height of nonsense, but it happens that you start to “boil” against your own will, and in such cases the “unpleasant” behavior of others should be taken as a tool for developing obedience and humility. Our internal attitude also helps here: “I am a servant of all.” If we understand all of our familial, professional, social, and Christian responsibilities as service to others, then the “boiling” of anger can be avoided. “No one should be his own master,” notes St. Basil the Great, “but everyone is obliged to have reason in all things, as ones placed by God in service to all the brethren of like soul, each remaining in his own rank.”
We can find similar recommendations from St. Ephraim the Syrian. He writes: “Should an obedient man hear a reproach, he is not perturbed; he is not exasperated by insults.” If there is some sadness—it’s an occasion for rejoicing; if some affliction—for thanksgiving. Obedience also manifests in the internal readiness to do any good deed. For example, we find out that a parishioner of our church, even one we don’t know well, is in the hospital. If we want to touch the virtue of obedience at least a little, we should spend a few hours visiting him, not begrudging our evening or Sunday leisure time. Imagine how much unexpected joy such a visit would bring a patient. After all, we really are living in such conditions where we never expect any outside help or even a kind word. Such a small matter could have great consequences both for us ourselves and for others. “Make an effort not to be subservient to your own will, but be obedient to those who fear the Lord, and by the grace of God, you will crush the head of the serpent,” concludes St. Ephraim the Syrian.
The true monastic podvig is above nature and it cannot be accomplished without Divine help. We Christians living in the world traverse a more “natural” path, which takes a significant part of our time; although you can find a piece of the supernatural even in these daily cares. Great Lent only actualizes our spiritual work, creates external conditions for its successful implementation, and to some measure allows us to give God the opportunity to intervene in our lives. In this respect, this forty-day period is the most precious period, which, having called ourselves Christians, we have no right to spurn.
