Adventures in NOT Missing the Point: A Reflection on Abba Cassian 1

A perennial problem among people of faith — and especially those among us who undertake sacred practices and disciplines — is the tendency to miss the point of what we’re doing and thereby turn good and well-intentioned things into stumbling blocks, for ourselves or others. This was the major point of conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees: There was absolutely nothing wrong with their desire to keep the Law; the problem came when they got so caught up in the details that they became blinded to the overall point. (Like when he complained that they “tithe mint, dill, and cumin, but have neglected … justice and mercy and faith” (Matthew 23.23.) The tendency to harm the body in the name of asceticism that we looked at last week is another example of missing the point of spiritual practices. Today we’re going to see another example from the Sayings of the Desert, but in reverse: Here, someone meets an elder who has not missed the point in the least.

The story is told by St. John Cassian, one of the few Desert Fathers about whom we know quite a bit outside the Sayings. Born along the Black Sea (though possibly of Celtic heritage), he is sometimes called the West’s first travel writer, because he traveled extensively throughout the Eastern Mediterranean visiting monasteries and wrote detailed accounts of what he encountered, before settling down and founding monasteries in what is now the south of France. The incident we’ll be looking at today comes from his travels with his friend Germanus in Egypt:

Abba Cassian related the following: ‘The holy Germanus and I went to Egypt, to visit an elder. Because he offered us hospitality we asked him, “Why do you not keep the rule of fasting, when you receive visiting brothers, as we have received it in Palestine?” He replied, “Fasting is always at hand, but you I cannot have with me always. And fasting is certainly a useful and necessary thing, but it depends on our choice while the law of God lays it upon us to do charitable acts. Thus receiving Christ in you, I ought to serve you with all diligence, but when I have taken leave of you, I can resume the rule of fasting again. For ‘Can the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them, but when the bridegroom is taken from them, then they will fast in that day.’ “ ‘ ([cf. Mark 2. 19-20], Abba Cassian 1)

From their travels in Palestine, Cassian and Germanus had grown accustomed to receiving the simplest hospitality, so they were surprised when this unnamed Egyptian Elder undertook quite a bit of effort in welcoming them. This surprise was probably doubled for them considering the Egyptian monks’ reputation for extreme fasting. Curious, they asked him why this was his practice. He gave them a two-pronged answer that is reminiscent of Jesus’ teachings: First, fasting is always available to him, but Cassian and Germanus are not, so his greater calling was to honour them. And second, fasting is a voluntary discipline, but hospitality is a divine commandment. The elder concludes by citing Mark 2.19-20, where Jesus, defending his disciples for not fasting as strictly as the Pharisees and John’s disciples, replies that there is a season for everything and his disciples will surely fast when he is no longer with them.

Here we have an example of someone whose asceticism is clearly not an adventure in missing the point. He understands the difference between what is of primary importance — showing up in good faith for his guests — and what is secondary, keeping is own private rules and disciplines. He understands that our practices exist not for their own sake but to help us become ever more free to love others and show up faithfully; the second our observance becomes more important than love of neighbour, it becomes a hindrance to us.

It’s a lovely story and one we’d all do well to remember. This Lent, and always, may we not miss the point of sacred practice and be willing to bend for the sake of loving our neighbour as ourself.