The Olympics of Virtue
(On Our Lenten Asceticism)[1]
By Yuri Ruban,
PhD in History, PhD in Theology
(On Our Lenten Asceticism)[1]
By Yuri Ruban,
PhD in History, PhD in Theology
Time is relentless and swift-flowing. The lazy “Russian frosts” of recent years suddenly awoke by the New Year. The festal days passed in a flash. February snowstorms and the Feast of the Reception of the Lord, which concludes the cycle of Nativity celebrations and commemorations, suddenly marked the always unexpected turn toward spring.
The sequence of preparatory weeks — with their Maslenitsa merriment, yet also the first Lenten hymns that compel one in confusion to fall silent and bow the head — closed with Forgiveness Sunday. Having asked forgiveness from one another, Orthodox Christians become “ascetics.” But can everyone be an ascetic? What is the meaning of asceticism?
In the most general sense, asceticism is a certain system of psycho-physical and spiritual exercises that practically expresses the essence of the religion within which it is formed. Clearly, in countries with a state religion the ascetic tradition exerts enormous influence on the system of personal and social values.
In everyday usage, however, asceticism means “mortification of the flesh,” and an ascetic is a fasting-emaciated hermit, a strange and heroic figure striving already in life to resemble an Egyptian mummy — an obvious anachronism, as though descended from the pages of Gustave Flaubert’s famous novel The Temptation of Saint Anthony. Such a person deserves sympathy or admiration, but absolutely no place can be found for him in so-called “modern life.” Many people think this. But this is entirely incorrect both etymologically and in essence.
Let us first recall that the Greek word askesis (asceticism) is translated as “training,” “exercise,” and its derivative asketes (ascetic) is nothing other than a sporting metaphor. In ancient Greece ascetics were called athletes (!) preparing for Olympic contests and therefore subjecting themselves to certain restrictions. Metaphorically, in the language of the ancient philosophers, an ascetic is a person exercising himself in virtue, especially in restraining irrational impulses of his will. The New Testament and the monuments of early Christian literature continued the tradition of using ancient athletic images and comparisons.
On True and False Asceticism
“Do you not know,” writes the Apostle Paul to the Christians of Greek Corinth, “that those who run in the race (Greek: en stadio)[2] all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it! Every competitor[3] exercises self-control in all things: they (athletes) to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one.[4] Therefore I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as beating the air, but I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified!” (1 Cor. 9:24-27).[5]
Now it is clear to us that the meaning of asceticism — both physical and spiritual — consists in a rational refusal of secondary things for the sake of attaining the principal, in overcoming physical and moral obstacles. The athlete’s reward is a laurel wreath; the Christian’s reward is the crown of salvation. Therefore Christian fasting-asceticism is directed not toward “mortification” but toward restoring inner freedom and the original integrity of the spiritual-bodily essence of man.
Ascetic labors are not an end but a means — a means of struggle for the “imperishable crown,” accomplished in the “arena” of our whole life. Therefore every thoughtful Christian may be called an “ascetic” — monk and married person, cleric and layman. The concrete form and degree of his asceticism is determined by his vows, his vocation in life, and the counsel of his spiritual father.
Christian asceticism proceeds not from opposition of flesh and spirit (which is especially strong in Buddhism and among the Neoplatonists), but from the necessity of bringing them into a state of harmony, the example of which the God-man Jesus Christ showed in His earthly life. He became the first — after Adam before his catastrophic fall — perfect man, the Second Adam, as the Apostle Paul calls Him.
Material nature, the human body, is not evil; on the contrary, it is infinitely valuable, for its fullness was assumed by the incarnate Son of God, who truly became the Son of Man. Thus He granted human nature the potential possibility — for every person! — of infinite perfection. This process of becoming like God is called in Greek theosis (“deification”).
Therefore the body for a Christian is not merely a material and mortal shell but the temple of the Holy Spirit dwelling within it, and this new and wondrous condition was “bought with a great price” — the price of immeasurable insults, sufferings, and the crucifixion of the Son of God (1 Cor. 6:19-20). Hence comes the awareness of the impossibility of surrendering this “temple” to irrational and shameful lower impulses, the fear of defiling it.
On the contrary, the “fashionable” nowadays among our contemporaries lost in the Indian jungles — irreverently wishing to dispute the work of Prince Vladimir and wash off the waters of the holy font! — the fastidious Buddhist view of the body as a “prison” and “dungeon of the spirit,” and the resulting ideal of nirvana (“dis-embodiment,” “extinction,” and “non-being”), means for the Christian a terrible “demonic delusion” — the ultimate degree of man’s captivity by the spirit of evil. Eternally reproved before Divine Truth, it can neither repent nor destroy itself and achieve the “saving” oblivion it desires, but only seeks to realize this striving in its deceived followers.
Countless spirits of “self-annihilation and non-being,” as F. M. Dostoevsky calls them, having no means to destroy themselves completely, “demand” from God their annihilation.
“They are insatiable forever and ever,” says Elder Zosima, “and reject forgiveness; they curse God who calls them. They cannot behold the Living God without hatred and demand that there be no God of Life, that God destroy Himself and His creation. And they will burn in the fire of their wrath eternally, thirsting for death and non-being — but they will not receive death!” (The Brothers Karamazov).
The ancient Christian Fathers do not consider asceticism a special “profession” or a proud privilege of the elect, but see its essence in the same thing in which Christianity itself lies — namely, in the words of Saint Gregory of Nyssa (4th century), the “imitation of the Divine nature,” or “the restoration of man to his ancient blessedness.”[6]
Therefore “the true (that is, moral) ascetic gains power over the flesh not to strengthen formal forces of the spirit but to better serve the good. Asceticism which frees the spirit from shameful passions only to bind it more strongly by evil passions is false or immoral asceticism; its prototype, according to Christian understanding, should be recognized as the devil, who does not eat, does not drink, does not sleep, and lives in celibacy,” — as a well-known Russian thinker wittily and rightly observes![7]
Let us agree that the proud zealots of the exclusively “gastronomic” aspect of fasting have chosen for imitation a rather unworthy character. By such a destructive path went the monk Ferapont, consumed by deadly envy, the antagonist of Elder Zosima. Whom or what we imitate — or strive to imitate — depends on our conscious choice. During the fast it is fitting to reflect on this.
Literature
Gusev A. F., The Moral Ideal of Buddhism in Relation to Christianity (St. Petersburg, 1874);
Popov I., Natural Moral Law (Sergiev Posad, 1897);
Ponomarev P., Dogmatic Foundations of Christian Asceticism According to the Works of Eastern Ascetic Writers of the 4th Century (Kazan, 1899);
Theophan (Govorov), Bishop, The Path to Salvation (A Brief Outline of Ascetics) (Moscow, 1899);
Zarin S. M., Asceticism According to Orthodox Christian Teaching (St. Petersburg, 1907);
On the Goal of the Christian Life: Conversation of St. Seraphim of Sarov with N. A. Motovilov (Sergiev Posad, 1914).
Notes
[1] The article was published in the diocesan journal St. Petersburg Church Herald, No. 3/2006 (75), pp. 20–22. In abbreviated form under the title “Asceticism” in the Russian Humanitarian Encyclopedic Dictionary, Vol. I, Moscow–St. Petersburg, 2002, pp. 126–127.
[2] Literally: “those running on the stadion.” The Greek word stadion is a unit of length equal to 600 feet. Greco-Roman stadion = 176.6 m; Olympic stadion = 192.28 m. Originally it designated the distance of a short race, then the place where running and other competitions were held. Hence our word “stadium.”
[3] Greek agonizomenos (“competitor,” “fighter,” “athlete”). As in other New Testament texts, ancient sports terminology understandable to Hellenistic readers is used. The Apostle Paul calls ascetic struggle an agon — “contest,” “struggle,” “public games” — a characteristic feature of Greek life: striving for competition in nearly all spheres. The most important were the Olympic (from 776 BC), Pythian, Isthmian, and Nemean games. As Prof. A. I. Zaitsev showed, the agonistic spirit of Greek civilization led to the great cultural revolution that produced science (in the modern sense) and several universal social institutions underlying modern European civilization. Essential Christian dogmas also could be expressed only in the language of Greek philosophy.
[4] Pagan athlete-victors were crowned at the finish with laurel wreaths (“perishable”), whereas Christian athlete-victors — at life’s finish — with crowns of salvation. Hence the halos (“imperishable crowns”) over our saints’ heads.
[5] Translation of verses 26–27 belongs to Archimandrite Iannuary (Ivliev).
[6] St. Gregory of Nyssa, To Harmonius: On What Is Meant by the Name and Title “Christian”, Works, vol. 7, p. 217.
[7] Solovyov V. S., The Ascetic Principle in Morality, Questions of Philosophy and Psychology, Book 26 (1), 1895, pp. 87–88.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
