A Closed Door Policy: A Reflection on Abba Sisoes 24

As much as I love the Sayings of the Desert Fathers that are clear and easy to understand, I have a special place in my heart for the ones that are more ambiguous. We looked at one such Saying the other week, where Abba Arsenius was complaining of the distractions of nature. That story was relayed without comment, so we are left to wonder whether Abba Bessarion is to be praised for his single-minded longing to know God in peaceful contemplation, or to be pitied for that single-mindedness causing him to miss out on simple, God-given joys, which can themselves be theophanies, places where we can encounter God. The story I’d like to reflect on today is even more ambiguous, and perhaps even more instructive in its ambiguity.

It’s a saying about Abba Sisoes, a younger contemporary of St. Anthony the Great, who reportedly fled the monastic settlement at Sketis because it had grown too popular and spent the rest of his days on a remote mountain. This penchant for solitude is at the heart of the saying, which is assumed to be about the time before he left Sketis:

It was said of Abba Sisoes that when he was sitting in the cell he would always close the door. (Abba Sisoes 24)

There’s not much to go on here at all! It’s easy to think of this as commending Abba Sisoes. If we interpret it literally, he’s carving out the space he needs to do his business with God, keeping out distractions, and focusing on the work before him. We can also read it symbolically, as though he’s shutting the door on the devil, guarding his heart and mind from the half-truths and twisted logic of negative spiritual forces. (In this way, it would be like the famous (if grossly culturally-appropriative) song “Shut de Do (Keep out de debil),” which likewise urges the faithful to shut the door on the devil to keep his influences at bay) Either way, Abba Sisoes keeping his door closed could be understood as teaching us to do likewise — essentially to practice healthy boundaries in our practice, both in our time and space, and in the influences to which we expose ourselves.

But, knowing as we do the importance of hospitality in Desert Monasticism, we could easily read the saying as a veiled criticism. For in keeping his door closed, Abba Sisoes was shutting out his fellow monks, keeping out trouble and distraction, yes, but also community and encouragement. A closed door signifies many things, but love is rarely top of the list.

These different interpretations of the saying actually flow together quite easily. They’re really about discerning healthy boundaries. It’s not a matter of having doors open or doors closed a hundred percent of the time, but about knowing when to close them and when to leave them open. An easy analogy for this is of ‘door policies’ in offices. If you’re working away and your boss has their door closed all the time, it’s easy to feel cut off from them, as though they’re holding themself at a distance and are unavailable to help or answer questions. But if their door is open all the time, it’s hard for them to get their work done for all the disruptions. The trick for them is to strike the right balance between open- and closed-door time.

In the same way, we would do well to be discerning in our boundaries when it comes to our faith. We need to make sure we have solitude for prayer, contemplation, and thought, but not so much that we are cut off from our community. And symbolically, we need to have good boundaries in terms of protecting our faith from outside negative influences, but porous enough boundaries to let in all that God would have us see. There’s a popular idea in some more conservative Christian circle that it’s bad to be open-minded because that lets the devil in. The idea is not without some wisdom; there are forces and energies all around us (no matter how we conceive of them) that distort and distract, twist truth, and turn us from the path of love and grace. But, the saying is also far too simple, because it assumes that the only things trying to get in are bad. Looking back at my own life, I think I can honestly say I kept more out in the name of faith to my detriment, than I irresponsibly let in. And so when it comes to boundaries in our practice and faith, it’s not a question of whether to keep them loose or tight, but to have the wisdom to know when to open up and when to batten the hatches.

May God grant us all that wisdom. Amen.