The themes of original solitude and original unity undergird the beginning of John Paul II’s Theology of the Body. Yet the interplay of solitude and unity in Christian life are still important today. Last week the Archbishop of Canterbury highlighted these in a talk he gave while he was in Rome to commemorate the ancient connections between Anglican and Roman Christianity.
The Camaldolese Benedictine monastic community had invited Archbishop Rowan Williams to join their millennial celebrations in Rome in recognition of the close connection of the church of San Gregorio Magno (St. Gregory the Great) with the Church of England and the Anglican Communion. The ancient Roman monastery on the Caelian Hill which bears the name of Pope St Gregory the Great was the place from which Gregory (himself a monk) sent St Augustine of Canterbury and a party of fellow Benedictine monks to Britain in the late 590s. These converted many of the Britons to Christianity, and Augustine (not to be confused with the famous Augustine, Bishop of Hippo centuries before) set up his see at Canterbury, and thus was the first of a long line of bishops at Canterbury spanning over 1400 years.
As John Paul emphasizes in his teaching on Genesis, the experience of original solitude and unity still resonates as a distant echo in all human beings. Both are essential to authentic human living. In solitude, one encounters God and the world in one’s own unique individuality and subjectivity. Yet we do not live out our lives alone, but in community—common unity--living with other people. Quite early in the history of Christianity, both the eastern and western parts of the ancient Roman empire gave rise to the quite surprising phenomena of monasticism. It has endured, and monastic communities have given shape to Christian living throughout most of its long history. Both Anglicanism and Lutheranism still harbor a few monastic communities today. An example of a 20th century ecumenical Protestant monastic community is the one founded by Brother Roger at Taizé. We enjoy their music at Truro.
While the Archbishop’s talk was directed to a monastic community, his words are of value to any of us seeking to live fruitfully within the inherent tension between our individuality and our call to live together with others, whether that be in family, church, community, or nation. He had this to say regarding the fundamental tension between solitude and community:
“This search to hold together what seem like opposites is of course grounded in a deeply traditional Christian anthropology. Christian solitude is the way in which we allow God to challenge and overcome our individualism; in solitude, we are led to recognize the strength and resilience of our selfishness, and the need to let God dissolve the fantasies with which we protect ourselves. In the desert there is no one to impress or persuade; there it is necessary to confront your own emptiness or be consumed by it. But such solitude is framed by the common life in which we have begun to learn the basic habits of selflessness through mutual service, and in which we are enabled to serve more radically and completely, to be more profoundly in the heart of common life in Christ’s Body, because we have had our private myths and defensive strategies stripped away by God in silence. … Monastic practice is, therefore, at its root, a living out of the fundamental Christian doctrine of human nature as restored in Christ.”
The Archbishop also notes that the monastic life is fundamentally a life of hospitality. His talk raises the question as to what we can learn from this powerful and deep tradition of Christian living that most of us are only dimly aware of. You can find his full talk at this link.
Hi Paul,
ReplyDeleteLike you refer to in your post, I am started to realize through the ToB teaching just how much individualism in America has colored our views of everything. We actually are not self-originating (we have come from family, friends, and society backgrounds and of course God’s work in our lives), we are not self-sustaining (we need others), or self-explaining (what we think of ourselves is based either positively or negatively on what others say about us). We aren't self anything, actually. But in our prideful country, we think we are and we love no one as much as ourselves.
I think one of the blessings of children is that it causes us to love others more than ourselves and to give ourselves to them. We have, through the care of them, the opportunity to learn "the basic habits of selflessness." The self-giving required also has many moments of original solitude where we are confronted with our own selfishness, and it becomes necessary to "confront your own emptiness or be consumed by it."
Thanks for the thoughts!
Julie
Julie,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment. Indeed, love is a key to holding our individuality and our relation to others together--for as we have learned, our creator God can only be known as a tri-unity of Father, Son, and Spirit bonded together in love. Language simply fails when trying to articulate it, as the church fathers all knew so well. If human beings are made in the image and likeness of God, we simply can never be fully understood and appreciated if we start with the isolated individual as the fundamental unit. We are made for both solitude and communion, that is to say, love freely given.
The Book of Common Prayer readings for today reinforce this through the words of Jesus. He had just rebuked Peter for speaking against his mission to go to Jerusalem and die (Get thee behind me , Satan!). Then, as Mark's gospel put it (8:34-35): "And calling the crowd to him with his disciples, he said to them, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life] will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it. 36 For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?"
To gain our life, the good life God has for us to live as his child, we simply must lose the life of following our own predilections and follow another. The power and beauty of life as a follower of Christ is inherently paradoxical. We are most fully alive in our God-given individuality and solitude when we are most completely given over to another in love. The fruits of the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ, dwelling in us are most manifest if we can see that same Spirit, at least in potentiality seen through the eyes of love, dwelling in the other people that we encounter.