Into the desert with St. Anthony of Egypt
The invitation that Jesus gave to the rich young man in the Gospel of Matthew to “go and sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me” is one that has echoed throughout the history of the church. While the wealthy young man in Scripture walked away from the call, it has been taken up in dramatic ways by holy men and women over the centuries.
In the fourth century, St. Anthony of Egypt, known as the “Father of All Monks,” answered this call in a simple and literal way. After hearing this Gospel read in church, he sold the wealth he had inherited from his parents and eventually went into the desert of Egypt for a life of prayer and fasting.
“The Life of St. Anthony of Egypt,” written by St. Athanasius, his contemporary and friend, tells the story of this great Desert Father and was a natural fit to read in the heat of July in my year of reading one spiritual classic a month.
After selling all his possessions, St. Anthony began a life of poverty, prayer and hard work near his village and conquered temptations from the devil. When many marveled at the great discipline he subjected his body to in order to be on guard against temptation, he quoted the words of St. Paul that “when I am weak, then I am strong,” saying that “the fibre of the soul is then sound when the pleasures of the body are diminished.”
St. Anthony went into the desert, training himself in solitude and warring against demons, and inspired others to follow in his footsteps. They did to such an extent that St. Athanasius wrote, “the desert was colonized by monks.”
St. Anthony exhorted the monks, “as though making a beginning daily let us increase our earnestness. For the whole life of man is very short, measured by the ages to come, wherefore all our time is nothing compared with eternal life.”
He spoke eloquently to them of the things they must aspire to in this life in order to prepare for the life which is to come. He pointed out that every man leaves behind his possessions at the end of his life anyway and called on them to give up possessions in this life voluntarily for the sake of virtue.
“Let the desire of possession take hold of no one, for what gain is it to acquire these things which we cannot take with us,” he said. “Why not rather get those things which we can take away with us — to wit, prudence, justice, temperance, courage, understanding, love, kindness to the poor, faith in Christ, freedom from wrath, hospitality? If we possess these, we shall find them of themselves preparing for us a welcome there in the land of the meek-hearted.”
St. Anthony repeatedly gave the powerful exhortation to “live as though dying daily” as a way to order one’s life toward its final end.
“As we rise day by day we should think that we shall not abide till evening; and again, when about to lie down to sleep, we should think that we shall not rise up,” he said. “For our life is naturally uncertain, and Providence allots it to us daily. But thus ordering our daily life, we shall neither fall into sin, nor have a lust for anything, nor cherish wrath against any, nor shall we heap up treasure upon earth. But, as though under the daily expectation of death, we shall be without wealth, and shall forgive all things to all men.”
Despite battles with demons in his life that could have provided ample content for horror movies today, St. Anthony spoke of the forces of evil with great contempt, telling Christians that they need not “fear their deceitful displays. For they are nothing and quickly disappear, especially if a man fortify himself beforehand with faith and the sign of the cross.”
“You know the treachery of the demons, how fierce they are, but how little power they have,” he said. “Wherefore fear them not, but rather ever breathe Christ, and trust Him.”
He advised that a communication is from the Lord if “your fear is immediately taken away and in place of it comes joy unspeakable, cheerfulness, courage, renewed strength, calmness of thought” for “joy and a settled state of soul show the holiness of him who is present.”
“But if at the appearance of any there is confusion, knocking without, worldly display, threats of death,” he warned, “know that it is an onslaught of evil spirits” from which arise “fear in the heart, tumult and confusion of thought, dejection, hatred towards them who live a life of discipline, indifference, grief, remembrance of kinsfolk and fear of death, and finally desire of evil things, disregard of virtue and unsettled habits.”
Many valued St. Anthony’s wisdom and would travel to receive his guidance. “He was able to be of such use to all,” St. Athanasius wrote, “that many soldiers and men who had great possessions laid aside the burdens of life, and became monks for the rest of their days. And it was as if a physician had been given by God to Egypt. For who in grief met Antony and did not return rejoicing?”
When the emperor Constantine wrote St. Anthony seeking advice, he did not reply immediately and told the monks, “Do not be astonished if an emperor writes to us, for he is a man; but rather: wonder that God wrote the Law for men, and has spoken to us through his own Son.”
He wrote to Constantine, advising him “not to think much of the present, but rather to remember the judgment that is coming, and to know that Christ alone was the true and Eternal King.”
What can the modern reader learn from this reluctant advisor to emperors, fearless foe to demons and disciplined hermit? St. Anthony offers a timeless and clear challenge to use our time on earth to perfect virtue rather than store up treasure that will be left behind. The stories of his confrontations with demons, rather than being the stuff of nightmares, illustrate the joy and love that come from God driving out the chaos and confusion that come from the forces of evil.
The work was hugely influential in spreading the concept of monasticism in Western Europe through its Latin translations.
Pope Benedict XVI, in a 2007 General Audience, quoted “The Life of St. Anthony of Egypt,” saying that “from whence into Spain and into Gaul, how into Rome and Africa, was the man heard of who dwelt hidden in a mountain, unless it was God who makes his own known everywhere, who also promised this to Anthony at the beginning? For even if they work secretly, even if they wish to remain in obscurity, yet the Lord shows them as lamps to lighten all, that those who hear may thus know that the precepts of God are able to make men prosper and thus be zealous in the path of virtue.”
The lives of St. Anthony, St. Athanasius and countless other saints, Pope Benedict concluded, show us that “those who draw near to God do not withdraw from men, but rather become truly close to them.”
This column was written by Lauretta Brown, culture editor for OSV News.
Featured image: National Library of Wales, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
