#592. Taking the pursuit of holiness too far.
Jul 31st by Jon(I first met author Jason Boyett when he interviewed me for an article about faith and humor in Collide Magazine. I told him it was my belief that by writing a Christian book I would soon be able to sleep on a bed made of money and own pants carved of gold. He laughed. A lot. We’ve been friends ever since. Today he jumps in with his second guest post on Stuff Christians Like. The first one was a lot of fun and I think this one is too. Enjoy)
Taking the pursuit of holiness too far.
Raise your hand if you have ever exceeded the speed limit and felt guilty about it. Or if you’ve ever asked God for forgiveness because the cashier gave you back too much change, and you totally knew it but didn’t say anything about it. Or if you have ever worried over the mental brainteaser “When does it become lust?”
(Possible answers to that last one include A: The moment the thought enters your head; B: When you choose to return to that thought or dwell on it; C: When you take a second, lingering look at that Megan Fox* photo; D: Right this moment, jerk, because now I’m imagining Megan Fox.)
* Female readers: feel free to substitute the male celebrity equivalent for Megan Fox.
At various times in my Christian life—by which I mean “on the way home from youth camp”—I have become fixated on personal holiness. “Be holy because I am holy.” Be in the world, but not of the world. And what most often happens is I get caught up avoiding some specific temptation—lust, greed, watching “90210”—and I waste a lot of spiritual energy trying to steer clear of this sin. Looking back, I wonder if maybe it would have been a better idea to spend that energy and prayer in the pursuit of something positive. For instance, becoming a more gracious person.
An example: I’ve heard Bible teachers tell men they should never look at Renaissance art because of the female (and male) nudity. Or tell husbands to avoid friendly, casual, interpersonal communication with other women even if it means being rude. Why? Because anything that might come across as normal or, you know, human could apparently lead to extramarital hanky-panky, I guess. Don’t give sin a foothold, etc. This is a problem. What happens when our pursuit of personal holiness becomes so self-interested that it loses sight of what followers of Jesus really ought to be doing? What happens when we focus on ourselves so much we forget to love God and love people?
Serious commentary: END.
To help you avoid these pharisaical pitfalls, I will now offer you some examples of well-meaning Christians who became too focused on personal holiness. All of these examples have been canonized as Christian saints. (Disclosure: yes, there is a reason I am interested in saints.)
These folks, in my opinion, took personal holiness to unhealthy extremes.
Your pursuit of holiness has gone too far when…
You remain chaste even after your wedding night.
In the seventh century, St. Bertilia married the love of her life. Then she and the groom took vows of chastity and remained virgins until they died. Presumably to make a long, uncomfortable point about self-sacrifice. Point taken. True love waits, and waits.
You abstain from all food and drink except communion.
That’s what St. Catherine of Siena did for long periods in the 14th century. This mortification of the flesh allowed her to avoid foul human temptations like, you know, daily sustenance. She also denied herself sleep. You know what happens when you don’t sleep, don’t eat, and only drink Eucharistic wine? Let’s just say St. Catherine should have been the patron saint of the hungover.
You cut out your own eyes to escape admiration.
That’s what St. Lucy did. As the story goes, she had a particular suitor who wouldn’t leave her alone. Dude kept going on an on about how much he admired her beautiful eyes. But Lucy, wishing to remain virginal and avoid the sin of pride—two birds, one stone!—put a stop to the man’s admiration by plucking out her own eyes. She had them delivered to the suitor. (Maybe God approved of this wee-bit-dramatic gesture, because he miraculously restored Lucy’s eyeball-less sight.)
You pray for ugliness to avoid temptation.
St. Wilgefortis was an attractive young Portuguese princess who took a vow of virginity. But, lo, her father wanted her to marry the king of Sicily. Marriage tends to complicate virginity vows—not talking to you, St. Bertilia—so Wilgefortis asked God for a special favor: to make her ugly. God answered her prayer by blessing her with a holy mustache and beard. When the foreign king backed out of the wedding (guess he couldn’t handle the prickly kisses), Wilgy’s angry father had her killed.
You live naked in the desert.
You might think nudity is always a bad thing when it comes to holiness. But what if you live in isolation in the desert? And what if exposure to the baking sun and biting flies is a way to deny the flesh? Then you might do what St. Mary of Egypt did. Which is: live naked in the desert, so long as you grow your hair long enough that you can arrange it, Garden of Eden-style, to cover up the naughty bits.
You refuse to wear shoes, and demand others to do the same.
Another way to “put to death the misdeeds of the body” is to stop protecting your feet from thorns and sharp rocks, which is why St. Teresa of Avila, in the 16th century, decided shoes indicated an embarassing lack of discipline among nuns. So she started a whole nuns-should-be-barefoot campaign. (Possible picket sign: “Saving souls by shunning soles.”) It caused a big schism amid the Carmelite community, dividing the shoe-wearing nuns from the shoeless. The nasty results included public lashings, imprisonment, and some really sick calluses.
You disrupt dinner by resurrecting the main course.
St. Nicholas of Tolentino practiced personal penance by refusing to eat meat. Once he was mistakenly served chicken. Horrified, Nick made the sign of the cross over the roasted bird. It came back to life and flew away through the window. Good thing the dish wasn’t wild boar. Or swordfish.
Let these saintly examples be a lesson to you. Sure, doing weird stuff may give you the appearance of holiness. And yeah, if you’re super-holy you’ll get churches named after you and people will be healed at your gravesite and all that stuff. But will you be more like Jesus?
Hard to say. Except I’m pretty sure Jesus wasn’t a eyeless, shoeless, bird-resurrecting, vegetarian nudist who only ate at Passover.
He did have a beard, though.
(For more awesomeness from Jason, make sure you check out his site, jasonboyett.com or www.pocketguidesite.com)
Comments
The saints don't 'belong' to any one category of Christian; they belong to the Church Universal. However – and I am speaking very broadly as a Protestant married into a Catholic family – Protestants and Catholics do tend to view the saints differently. Many Protestants tend to view the saints as human beings (albeit exceptional ones), and therefore fair game for both praise and punditry. We read about Wilgefortis' beard and Mary naked in the desert and we go, "whoa, that's over the top," and we laugh. Many Catholics, OTOH, tend to view the saints as something on a higher plane than mere human, and therefore off limits as the butt of jokes. (Hear any good Archangel Michael jokes lately? Yeah, me neither. The same respect applies to the saints.)
To have Protestants and Catholics of all stripes together in this forum, even tripping over one of the few remaining cultural stumbling-blocks between us that we didn't even realize was there till there it was, simply attests to the awesomeness of SCL. Laugh, argue, learn, grow, God's purpose served.
I found this post hilarious and a bit sad. It's sad that saints are elevated to legendary status for these things, but then again Christians certainly have our own heros we tend to elevate to almost be equal to God. (*I'm pretty sure I've known a few people who prayed to ask John Calvin into their hearts cough*)
Sure, it's nice to "respect the saints" as much as it's good to respect any other human being. Because they were. Nothing more. Reading all these stories about what they did really makes me think about religion and how binding it can really be. Jesus gave us a chance to be free from that I think that was one point this post was trying to make, or at least what I got out of it. Something to think about.
(By the way, chickens can't fly. I imagined a lot of clucking and feathers flying into all the food and general pandemonium, not a bird smoothly flying out the window!)
I've been recommending this blog to friends…I hope none of them decided to read it today. If this had been my first SCL post, it would have been my last.
Hahaha! This is amazing. It's funny what we think of to make ourselves holy, and ignore that that's God's job and that it looks very different from what we think it should be. God's just odd like that.
Joe @ 2:07:
That is one of the biggest misconceptions Protestants have about pre-Reformation Christianity (i.e., no one knew anything about the Bible). Completely wrong. I say this as a Protestant who has studied this very topic in great depth for many years. People of the Middle Ages may, by and large, not have had access to books or been verbally literate, but they certainly "knew the Bible," i.e., knew its stories and message, although they understood them in different ways (and those ways were not necessarily inferior to our ways of understanding them, either). Certainly Teresa knew the bible, as did those other saints; in fact, I'll bet you they had memorized it.
Jon, first of all, as one of your most loyal Catholic readers, I want to say that I am not actually offended. I think that we see these saints from different perspectives. I see them as people who put God above ALL else..and if they felt they were holding something in their life higher than God, they cut it out. Just as Christ said.
Mark 9:43
If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out.
Some of the things described definitely aren't sins in and of themselves, but if they are held as more important than God…
Like I said, my perspective is a bit different, but I am not offended. I am not going anywhere, no matter how hard Mr. Boyett tried to chase me away.
Oh my gosh — this same exact thought echoes around in my head so often!
"What happens when our pursuit of personal holiness becomes so self-interested that it loses sight of what followers of Jesus really ought to be doing? What happens when we focus on ourselves so much we forget to love God and love people?"
Paraphrased, of course. Glad you voiced it. Because now I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I thought I was the odd one out. LOL
I usually love your posts but this one seems less than encouraging, to say the least. There should be no cap limiting how much we long to be conformed to Christ's likeness. Discipline and intentionality are not enemies of enjoying Christ–which are sort of the jugulars you're getting at here. Just sayin'.
Dear Jayson Boyette,
Congratulations! You started a controversy on SCL, which isn't all that hard to do, but still. I've been reading SCL since nearly the beginning and here's some wisdom for you: It's all fun and games till someone gets offended. And then it's more fun. Sometimes it just rolls that way on the best blogsite ever.
Well done.
Stacy
Future post based on this one –
Stuff Christians Like: Sacred Cows
Guess when it comes to humor and satire, there's certain places that like Europa in the movie 2010, we just shouldn't go there.
OMG that was sooooo funny! On there serious commentary part, it's interesting to note that guys have taken to being rude to women they are not interested in. This is craziness. It used to be that walking with a lady meant offering your arm. It used to be that when a friend of a friend came through town, you were obligated to be decent. Or, lo, if a female friend came through town and wanted to have coffee, that was perfectly OK. Perhaps we're hypersensitive now with all of this divorce stuff going on that we are given to following bullshit because something so harsh MUST be spiritual.
You might like my Biblical Ways of Knowing She's the One
http://savvysinglechristian.blogspot.com/2007/09/biblical-ways-of-knowing-shes-one.html
Having been Catholic at one time or another and then a second time or another, our saints become like friends–sometimes we say wonderful things about them and other times we say irreverent and mean spirited things about them.
Agreeing with the folks this sounds off on a number of points–scoffing people's earnest attempts to follow God is not all that funny. Esp. when most of these stories relayed are likely legendary, and not the reason they were canonized.
I guess, as a Catholic, I dare you to make the post about offbeat biblical attempts at holiness (Can we say John the Baptists and his diet?). Still funny?
Excellent post. Way to use brevity and the absurd to wake people up to think.
I am laughing and laughing and thanking God that I found this website, and now I'm going to Jason's. Humor in Christianity — are you sure that's okay?
))
Dear The Ironic Catholic:
Yes, I WILL take you up on that dare. In fact, I beat you to the punch. You can read about some of the offbeat things biblical characters have done in Pocket Guide to the Bible. I wrote it before the Sainthood book.
And, yes. Still funny.
—-
Thanks for the great discussion, everyone. It's been fun!
OK, Jason, I'll take a look. Thanks!
I'm really surprised at all the negative comments here. Another commenter said it already, we laugh at weird evangelical stuff all the time, so why are the old saints beyond laughing at? I'm not evangelical, but I'm allowed to laugh at those posts. I'm not Catholic (although with Catholic parents and grandparents I'm more entitled to laugh at this post than at the other ones!)
If we were to apply these comments at the entire blog, Jon would have to shut it down since in every situation described on this blog, there are people only trying to do their best for God.
I personally thought this was a great post. Everyone is a little wacky, and I bet everyone has obsessed a little over a particular issue in their life, going so far as that the focus is not on the issue anymore but on the remedy – like gouging your eyes out instead of facing down your issues with lust. And also, I find it very soothing to be reminded that even the saints were a little weird – and that weird people are still eligible to play good roles in God's kingdom. My God has a sense of humor, I don't know about yours.
at preacherlady: um, the reason we don't have any archangel jokes is because they are not shown to have a personality in the Bible. You need that to make a joke about them. But check out Christopher Moore's Lamb and you'll be surprised at what he came up with!
I am trying to write this as gently as possible. I enjoy your blog, I like that it pokes fun at Christian culture and quirks without being insulting. Except when you branch into dealing with things that are seen as Catholic/Liturgical.
This is not the first time that things that are seen as holy by Catholics/Orthodox/Anglicans or practices of personal piety are mocked by people who, frankly, do not understand what is behind them.
Sure, everyone gets a laugh out of those crazy saints and, implicitly, those crazy Catholics who buy such idiocy, but you have not engaged enough even to disagree.
I am not going to get into a debate/discussion about the value of mortification, because I do not think this is the place to do so, nor do I think it would have much effect. However, mocking it without trying to learn or understand it says more about you than those you mock.
There is PLENTY to mock in Evangelical Protestant history, piety, practice, culture and mindset, but it is still pointless and unnecessary to do so. It would still be a sin against my brothers.
I do not know if either Jon or Jason will read this or take it seriously, but the e-mail I have for google is live.
Interesting tidbit: Self-enucleation (the removal of one's own eyes) is a form of self-mutilation with apparently no history in cultures outside Christian influence. Weird, eh?
I used to be clinically obsessive compulsive and I can't help but see similarities between things the sick brains and spirits of myself and other OCD patients I know thought God wanted us to do and things these saints did. Not to mention that it's hard to respect, say, people literally starving themselves to death or mutilating their own bodies in the name of God. If we're on that page, then we might as well lend credence to the voluntary crucifixion practices that go on in the Philippines every year in the name of Jesus, since its done out of devotion. (http://www.nydailynews.com/news/us_world/2009/04/10/2009-04-10_crucifixtion_reenactment_is_annual_good_friday_rite_in_philippines.html)
The thread of self-destruction that runs through some of these stories is actually pretty disturbing, moreso that these actions were/are lauded as great examples of holy behavior. Why not respect these efforts to glorify God? Because God is not a God that delights in the infliction of suffering. God is love, God is merciful, He suffered SO WE DIDN'T HAVE TO. I'm a former cutter and that was an important lesson for me to learn, one that's still difficult for me to understand, difficult (I believe) for humanity as a whole, used as we are to the ways of the world where true mercy is hard to come by. In that way you could say that the use of explicit self-destruction as a method to pursue holiness is perhaps more like the world than it is like what we know about God's holiness and nature.
Although, on the topic of Saint Teresa, I know people who have had unusual experiences like that with Jesus being bodily present (in the sense that they could physically feel His body) but invisible to their eyes. And, hey, Daniel got burning coals on the lips, so why not a burning barb through the heart? Bernini made a rockin' Baroque sculpture out of the whole thing that is seriously beautiful. (http://creerparaver.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/transverberacion-sta-teresa-bernini.jpg)
Sorry, that first link is bad. Here's the correct one:
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/us_world/2009/04/10/2009-04-10_crucifixtion_reenactment_is_annual_good_friday_rite_in_philippines.html
Sweet gouranga! I see you have neglected to mention Origen (or I have overlooked him in my amusement)…
I think a little of the pietist, perfectionist bent comes into every saint (canonized or non), as the gap between the commands of God and my inability to attain them, widens.
Eventually, I end up asking myself, 'Am i doing this for Him, or for me? Am I making war on my sin so I can feel good about myself, or because He would be pleased?'
And then it smacks me…
you'll never be perfect
you're the same sob you were when He found you.
you still need Him as much today as the day you were rescued.
And I speed.
It has taken me my whole life (20 years…) to realize something, which I just realized last week, and that is this: The God who reveals himself in the Bible wants my obedience, not my obsessions. Even in the Old Testament this is true. Jason's example of holiness being positive and proactive is exactly what God is saying he wants in Isaiah 58. Whoever said that these reactions were pathological was right, and I don't think it's an attack on the Catholic Church (though they certainly had not done much to deter this kind of thing at the time these saints were alive) to say that Pharasaism in place of acknowledgement of our sin and our need for grace is wrong and actually nullifies Jesus' sacrifice for us on the cross. Galatians 5:1-6.
Your blog is pretty funny, but these saints are important in the faith of millions of people, and to focus on the crazy thing they did, well I had a lady pray over me once and pretend she was sword fighting because she was battling demons (demons that came from me marrying a Catholic apparently).
I am not offended I just want to point out that many of these saints did other important , good and sometimes not so good things too.
While some people do take asceticism too far, many Christians could do with a return to some of the disciplines (Try the book A celebration of discipline)