When one hears the words “Egyptian Monastics and Solitaries” certain images naturally come to mind: a barren wasteland with whirling dust storms; burning thirst under a scorching sun; desolation and shivering through cold nights; scarcity of food and the heart of the monk yearning for his God. How did they survive? There certainly has been a renewal of interest in the Catholic world regarding the ascetical wonders of the desert and even more so with the reemergence of Eremitic life and Consecrated Virgins in both East and West receiving official Canonical status.
The Gospel account tells us of the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt. Tradition has it that they resided there for as many as seven years — Saint Joseph laboring to provide for Jesus and Mary — and returned to Nazareth after Herod’s death. It was no accident that the Infant Jesus paid a visit to this pagan land and to be sure He took pity on the poor people who were enslaved by idolatry. This sojourn was the seed planted which would blossom into a verdant garden on the Nile.
What motivated early Christians to move into the desert? What was it that took such a strong hold on so many to enter the desert to seek perfect union with Christ? Undoubtedly deep faith and love, something that goes beyond what the lips can utter. It is the search for the pearl of great price hidden in the field of which Jesus speaks in the Gospel. However, there were also political and ecclesiastical factors at work which made this spiritual conquest of the heart possible. Some went into the deserts of Egypt in order to escape persecutions raging against the Church but for the most part, it was a desire for solitude with God and to engage in the spiritual combat with the Devil. It was believed that Satan’s place of residence was the desert. The faith of Christians dwelling in the cities had driven him out into the wilderness, forcing him to retreat. Well, in the mind of the monk, it would be the goal to drive him out even further.
For the founders of Eremitic and Cenobitic monasticism in the Eastern Church — Saint Antony and Saint Pachomius — setting out into the desert was a whole new adventure. If one takes a close look at a topographical map showing the colors indicating sea level in relation to the land, what a surprise it is to discover that the areas of major monastic settlements of the Sketes, Nitria, Celles and Marea are in the green to dark green along the Nile. This meant that water was not as scarce as we may think and there was vegetation and cultivatable land. Clues pointing to this are also given us in the classic Sayings of the Desert Fathers where Fathers such as Abba Antony, Abba Arsenius, Abba Gelasius, Abba Moses and others speak of marshes, palm trees, figs olives and plots of land for growing! Still the fact that there was cultivatable land does not mean at all that was this an easy life. The Fathers were still surrounded by the desert sands and extreme heat and even cold, the threat of wild beasts and barbarian hordes, yet they still had the wherewithal to survive. Their goal was union with Christ, the vanquishing of the passions, and purity of heart, not a comfortable living. They lived in the desert and subsisted on just what was necessary. Life was a continual harmony of prayer, silence, battling with the devil and work: weaving mats and baskets from rushes or palms, growing food, or baking bread.
In his book, The Desert a City, Derwas Chitty is among those who show that this title is a proper description of monasticism in Egypt in every sense of the word. Archeological studies reveal that the Nitira and Sketes Monasteries had wells, ovens for baking bread, and the ability to grow crops. At the height of what is known as, in the words of Monastic scholar Evelyn White, “the Golden Age” of Nitria, as many as thousands lived in those desert communities. The desert marvels were not as isolated as we once believed them to have been, either, and this proved to be unfortunate indeed. While the Nile waterway system brought visitors, it brought troublemaker as well. Arianism, coming from Alexandria, was able to destroy the Nitria monastery by fomenting factions within, resulting in riots. News also circulated fairly well and with remarkable speed through the desert, as Saint Augustine, hundreds of miles away mentions in a letter to a priest the barbarian tribe that wiped out the Sketes settlement. Despite the collapse of these magnificent monasteries, they served as a model and guide for future foundations that would sprout like wheat in successive generations and which exist even today. Even greater are the spiritual treasuries, words of recorded wisdom from the Heiromonk to the novice that set the standard for formation in the school of virtue in the Eastern Churches.
How can Catholics today feel a connection with the Egyptian saints of the desert? It comes with the realization that they were ordinary people just as we are now. What made them unique was that they responded to Christ’s call to sanctification in a radical way: leaving everything for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven through the Evangelical Counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. Some, such as Saint Antony, left a great inheritance of money behind; others, such as Saint Mary of Egypt, had a tremendous conversion of heart from a life of prostitution to solitude, wandering through the desert sands. Those who were considered wolves became like lambs such as the great Abba Moses who turned from a profession of robbery and donned the monastic habit, bringing his whole band of thugs to conversion with him. Others left the noise of the world by mounting a pillar where they prayed day and night for the salvation of mankind.
As it has been said so many times, saints are not born, they are made by the grace of God and so it is with all of us. Many entered into the desert crucible with very sinful pasts, it is true; but they ended their lives well, having made up a hundredfold by their ascetic labors. This should be a source of encouragement for all that we are, each and every one without exception, called to sainthood. Noise is the endemic disease of our times. All desire silence and solitude, but the majority are not called to monastic life but to life in the world. The desert Fathers challenge all Catholics today regardless of state in life to maintain recollection with God in everyday duties, that everything we do becomes a prayer. Saint Catherine of Sienna, a great Saint of the West gives us the best example: to make the soul a “cell,” your own “desert of solitude,” where despite the confusion and noise around you, you can remain continually united to Jesus in perfect love.
