Christian asceticism

One of the things that struck me about Philip Pullman’s His dark materials trilogy was that in spite of his apparent rejection of Christian asceticism, he has his protagonists opt for something pretty close to it in the end. It seemed to me to be a strange kind of inconsistency, and a pretty basic one. Perhaps it was because Pullman didn’t really have much clue about what Christian asceticism is all about.

Philip Pullman is proudly anti-Christian, so perhaps it isn’t surprising that he wouldn’t bother to learn much about something he despises.

I found it more surprising, however, to read the following in Matt Stone’s blog the other day

Part of my indifference towards fasting, if not outright antipathy, has been the traditional conjunction between it and asceticism. With asceticism being the epitome of mind-body dualism, and incarnational Christianity being its holistic antithesis, I couldn’t see how any discipline that encouraged a distain for the body could actually be all that helpful.

Matt is a Christian, and moreover one who has tried to learn about a wide variety of Christian traditions. So how could he say that asceticism is “the epitome of mind-body dualism, and incarnational Christianity being its holistic antithesis”?

That is almost an exact inversion of what Christian asceticism is all about.

Admittedly Matt does say that in the context of a reevaluation of fasting, but he implies that in reevaluating it he is trying to see fasting as something disconnected with asceticism, which remains a bad thing in his eyes.

What with that, and Lent beginning tomorrow, it seemed to be a good time to try to write something about Christian asceticism, if only to remind myself what I should be doing in Lent.

The Oxford dictionary of the Christian Church (which has an English and Anglican bias, but tries to report from a range of Christian traditions) notes that the Greek askesis (exercise or training) denotes a system of practices designed to combat vice and develop virtues.

In the NT the word occurs only once — as a verb, askein, ro strive — at Acts 24.16. In 1 Cor. 9.25 the Christian life is compared to the games in which every man that striveth… is temperate in all things. But the idea, present already in the OT, esp in the Wisdom books, is prominent throughout the NT. It is summed up in the Lord’s call to his disciples: ‘If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me’ (Mk. 8.34), with its emphasis on the two sides of Christian asceticism, the negative one of self-denial and the positive one of the following of Christ. This invitation to practise self-abnegation is frequently reiterated, mostly in very strong terms (Mt. 10.38f., Jn. 12.25), being shown to involve constant watchfulness (Mt. 24.42, 25.13, &C.) and fasting (Mt. 6.16-18; Mk. 2.18-20) and, in many cases, renunciation of all earthly possessions (Mt. 19.21, Mk. 10.28, Lk 9. 57-62), and perpetual chastity (Mt. 19.12). St Paul counsels the same ideal repeatedly inculcating the necessity of keeping up the struggle against the inclinations of the ‘old man’…

The metaphor of struggle is taken up in the Russian term of asceticism, podvig, which indicates the spiritual struggle, or spiritual warfare that Christians are called upon to engage in. The very fact that this spiritual struggle should involve such bodily exercises as fasting should show that it is incarnational, and has nothing to do with a body/mind dualism. In Gesthemane our Lord Jesus Christ urged his disciples to “watch and pray”. When they had struggled to expel demons, he told them that some demons could only come out by prayer and fasting. Watchfulness, prayer and fasting are central to Christian asceticism.

All this is fairly general. But just as there are different Christian traditions, so there are varieties of Christian asceticism. Orthodox asceticism is essentially therapeutic. Bishop Hierotheos of Nafpaktos remarks

Protestants do not have a “therapeutic treatment” position. They suppose that believing in God, intellectually, constitutes salvation. Yet salvation is not a matter of intellectual acceptance of truth; rather it is a person’s transformation and divinization by grace.

As St Paul says, “Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Rom 12:2). It is the whole person, body, soul and spirit, that is to be transformed.

And so we come to the beginning of Lent, and Lent is marked by fasting — abstaining from food, or from certain kinds of food. Why do we do this? In the third chapter of Genesis we read about the fall of man. And the fall was caused by food. Man became alienated and estranged from God by loving food more than God. This is basically idolatry — loving the gift rather than the giver, the creature rather than the creator. So by fasting, the relationship can be transformed, restored, renewed. Our physical hunger is transformed into hunger for God.

And this is not a mind/body dualism, but it is in order, as St Paul says, that we present our bodies as a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is our reasonable worship (Rom 12:1).

PS: Some interesting comments from C.S. Lewis on asceticism here.