“Which path shall I follow in my life?” A conflicted question within layers of deception: A generational story on the Paradox of Prosperity from The Evergetinos, Vol II

[Reading Time: 14 minutes]

Introduction

Given the writings on The Parable of the Rich Man & Lazarus with the rather shocking yet incontrovertible insight into how our life in this world is inextricably linked to our existence in the next, we offer a related story from The Evergetinos. For, as we find in many stories from the Desert tradition, they become, as it were, an outworking of the Scriptures themselves, showing their continual relevance to life in This Age as manifest in all eras of the faith. As such, to understand, appreciate and, by God’s mercy, apply the Desert wisdom offered to us centuries later, we must, first of all, be fully immersed in the Old and New Testaments so as to be given the correct way to frame our understanding of their writings. If we do so, then these stories begin open to up to us more and more as time goes on. If this frame is missed, however, then much of the power and authority inherent in many of these stories falls like seed onto hard ground, being quickly dismissed, misunderstood and finally lost.

The Scriptural Frame for the Parable

This being the case, we present the story below whose Scriptural frame, as you will hopefully see, is Christ’s Parable of the Rich Man & Lazarus. The character we first meet in it is one who lives a life of wealth, selfishness and ease only to enter into fiery judgment which no man can remove despite his desperate cries for mercy; while there is another who lives a life of suffering, pain and disease, finally dying amidst the judgments of those around him; yet who enters into the joy of eternal sweetness and love of the divine Kingdom.

And if we were to go back within the Scriptures even further, this same archetypal pattern of the prosperous fool and the wise son of suffering would be found in Psalm 73. There are, again, those who “prosper in the world” and “increase in riches” (73:12), having “more than their heart could wish” (73:7). They have “peace” in this life (shalom [שָׁלוֹם], 73:3) without the “trouble” and “plagues like other men” (73:5). And even “in their death” they appear to have “no pains” (Ps 73:4).

Then in stark contrast there is another, “plagued all the day long” by suffering and “chastened every morning” (73:14), for whom even the “thought” of why he is suffering and why the wicked are prospering becomes “too painful”…

That is, until he goes “into the sanctuary of God” (Ps 73:17) where the paradox is unveiled.

For opened up by true worship into the panorama of eternity he sees that for the wicked, their brief prosperity in this brief life is not a sign of divine blessing, but rather evidence that God has “put them in slippery places” (73:18a). And becoming progressively unstable in the slippery pathway of their life of riches, they slide into spiritual delusion such that they begin to wear “arrogance” as their “necklace” (73:6) and “speak as if they rule in heaven and lay claim to the earth” (73:9).

With no eternal foundation but the wood, hay and stubble of their double-minded life ventures that cannot survive the fires of divine testing, they will, despite their proud thoughts otherwise, be “cast down into destruction.” There in a single “moment” they are brought “into desolation” where they will be “utterly consumed with terrors” (73:18b-19).

The paradox for them has finally become actualized.

For the son of suffering, however, their entrance into God’s Presence begins that process though he still be on this side of Eternity. And while he may at times slide and “well nigh slip” (73:2), nevertheless, he is “held by” JHWH’s “right hand” throughout this life, Who will “guide” him “with [His] counsel and afterward receive” him “into glory” (73:23b-24). At the end, even when his “flesh and heart fail”, it is not the false holy spirit of wealth, but “God” Himself Who will be the “strength of [his] heart and portion for ever” (73:26).

Setting within the Evergetinos

This story is situated in the middle of Hypothesis IX, which has the title: Proof of where the souls of the dying go and how they exist after their separation from the body.

Although elements of the story may strike us as strange or theologically questionable, we must let the entirety of the story unfold before making an assessment. With those introductory words, we present this account selected from the Gerontikon, a collection of brief narratives and sayings relaying the wisdom of early ascetics in the Desert. This particular story retells the experience of an aged nun rehearing her upbringing in a conflicted household with its lifelong results:

The story of a dissolute mother and a suffering father

An ascetic Elder related the following:

There once lived an aged nun who excelled in virtue and piety. When I asked her why she fled from the world, she told me this.

“When I was still a young girl, reverend Father," she began, "I remember that my father was a very tender and good man. He was thin and sickly in body, so that the majority of his time he passed confined to his bed. He was marked by such simplicity that he spoke only when compelled. When he was well, he dedicated himself to tilling the land, thereby occupying himself and bringing to our home the produce which he cultivated. But he was so reticent to speak that those who did not know him thought him to be mute.

Wholly the opposite of my father was my mother.

She was such a busy-body (períergos) and so idle that she was anxious to learn about things even outside our village. She talked so much that nobody ever saw her silent, even for a little: rather, one time she would be seen arguing and quarreling, and another time saying obscene and indecent words in jest. Most of the years of her life she wasted in drunkenness and in the company men. She was often away and was immoral and, like a prostitute, badly looked after our household, so that we could no longer get by—despite the fact that our assets were not few—, since it was to her that my father had entrusted the administration of the household.

How sickness did or did not strike them both

Though she lived in this way, she nonetheless never became sick and never felt the slightest pain; for all of the wretched life that she lived, she maintained her bodily health.

It happened, anyway, that my father died, ravaged by many years of illness. Now, what happened at his death? Immediately a fearful wind came up and almost razed the area. There was continual thunder, and the rain poured so violently that no one dared poke his nose out of his house even for a moment. This foul weather lasted three days, and out of necessity we kept my father inside the house, unburied.

Our fellow villagers, seeing all of these obstacles, greatly condemned my dead father, saying: 'My, my, what evil was living in our midst, and we did not know it! It seems that this dead man must have been an enemy of God, and for this reason God has not even allowed him to be buried yet.'

[Think of the assessment of Job’s friends at his calamity…]

We however, so that the corpse would not start decomposing in the house and make it uninhabitable because of the stench, risked, despite the violent rain, transporting the body to the cemetery, and buried it.

From that time on my mother had even greater freedom to devote herself with great brazenness to orgies and debauchery. Indeed, she became so audacious that she transformed our home into a house of immorality and, indulging her unceasing sensual pleasures, squandered away all of our holdings; so, in a short time we had nothing left. Some years after the death my father, my mother died. She had such a splendorous and magnificent funeral that one could say that nature itself cooperated in conducting it.

Her reflections on their respective lives and the path she should choose: Critical questions and her initial decision

Since my mother had died and I had passed the age of childhood, the flames of youth being kindled and tempting me, one evening the thought came to me:

Which path shall I follow in my life?

Occupied with this thought, I said off the top of my head, talking to myself: 'Should I choose, I wonder, my father's way of life, and live with kindness, modesty, and judiciousness?

But my father, even if he did live, virtuously nonetheless never enjoyed even one good thing, but was always devoured by illness and misfortunes. He was so unfortunate that he was not even allowed in his toments to be buried like other people.

If my father's conduct and behavior were pleasing to God, why was he tested by so many disasters?

And what was my mother's life like? Did she not live a healthy life, even though she was plunged into a life of pleasures and desires?

I will also, therefore, live the life that my mother did, for I prefer to believe in what I can see than in promises about what is to come.

A terrifying vision

By the time that I had decided to follow in the steps of my mother, night had fallen. And when I went to sleep, there appeared before me a man of enormous dimensions and with a savage face. Staring at me with rage and a wild look, he asked me in a dreadful voice:

“Tell me what is in your heart.”

I was so frightened that I dared not even look at his face.

This fearful man, with the same sternness, asked me again:

“Tell me, then, What have you decided?”

When he saw that I was paralyzed by fear and was in danger of losing my senses, he himself reminded me in detail of all that I had just been thinking of myself.

Recovering from my fear and astonishment and being unable to deny anything that the man had said, I began begging and imploring him to forgive me.

From paradise to eternal torment

Then, as though he had become calmer, he took me by the hand and said:

'"Come and see where your father and mother are. On the basis of this you can choose which way of life you want for yourself.”

Taking me from where I was, he guided me to a vast garden, which was planted with various beautiful trees, beyond description in their charm and filled with different kinds of fruits. And there, as I was walking with this fearful man, my father came up to me, embracing me and covering me with tender kisses, saying,

“My beloved child.”

I embraced my father with joy, asking if I might remain with him. My father sweetly replied:

'“Now, my child, this is not possible; if, however, you will follow my own way of life, not much time will pass and you will be here, too.”

Just as I was about to continue in my requests to remain with my father, the Angel who was accompanying me pulled me by the hand and said:

'“Come, now, to see your mother, too, so that you can determine firsthand which way of life you want to lead.”

[Then, as if in Dickens’ Christmas Carol where Scrooge is taken to meet his miserly, dissolute business partner, Jacob Marley]

Then, taking me to a place that was all dark, in which one could hear great disorder and groans, he showed me a furnace, the fires of which would spill over every time it surged up. And outside the furnace a number of ghastly and frightening individuals gazed on the sight.

As I was looking at this frightening and terrible place of torture, I saw my mother, submerged to her neck in the flaming furnace, numberless worms gnawmg on her all over. From my pain and fear, I was trembling, while my teeth began to chatter and to gnash.

When my mother raised her eyes to look at me, she began to cry harrowingly and said to me:

“Alas, my child. My pains are unbearable. My torments are unceasing. For a few years of delight and sinful pleasure, I brought all of this terrible punishment on myself. Woe to me, such an unfortunate one! Woe to me, wretch that I am! Because of the ephemeral pleasures of temporary life, I am now tormented eternally.

But, my child, take pity on your mother, who, as you see, is in flames and is being devoured by fire. Remember, my child, how I gave you suckle and reared you, and take pity on me. Give me your hand and pull me out of here.”

The outcome

I, however, did nothing, and could not even approach my mother, who, out of shame before those who were around her, cried out even more strongly and with tears:

“My child, help me and do not scorn your mother and her lamentations. Do not close your eyes to this unfortunate mother, who is tortured in the Gehenna of fire and continually consumed by unsleeping worms.”

Moved by sympathy for my mother, I stretched out my hand, so that I could pull her out of that frightful Hell. No sooner had the flames of the fire only slightly touched my hand, than I felt great pain and began to cry in moans. From my lamentations and moans, I awoke everyone in the house. They got up, turned on the lights, and ran to my bed, asking with incessant questions to learn why I was crying in my sleep and groaning.

So, having come to a bit, I began to relate to them everything that I saw in my vision.

From that day I most decisively resolved to live as did my father, whose way of life I longed for. I pray that God will deem me worthy to succeed therein and to see my father again and live with him, for, by the Grace of God, with my own eyes I saw the glory and honor which awaits those who ready themselves by living reverently and virtuously; and, on the other hand, again, what fearful punishment and Hell awaits those who squander their lives on pleasures and passions.