THE ALMOST FORGOTTEN DESERT MOTHERS

by THE REVEREND HOLLY GLOFF, ASSOCIATE RECTOR

You may not have heard about “The Desert Mothers,” but I have known of them for years. They are a group of remarkable women who lived in the early centuries of the Christian faith, perhaps no more than 100 years after Jesus’ crucifixion. They were wise, well educated, well read — usually voracious readers — and often came from wealthy families. They wanted to live spiritual lives but found that the distractions of the world were too much for them.

Some were expected to live a life that was inconsistent with their desire to spend their time in prayer and doing good deeds. To escape the endless demands placed upon them, they moved out into the quiet desert, where there were fewer distractions. As word of these women spread, other women wanted to study with them and followed them into the desert to be their disciples. Out of this network of women emerged early forms of convents. Here they could live in small communities, support each other, write, learn from one another, and pray the early form of divine office, from which we get our Morning Prayer, noontime prayers, Evening Prayer, and Compline. While most lived in these communities, many chose to live alone in caves, as they required more solitude to fulfill their spiritual needs.

You may remember that there were many women surrounding Jesus — not only his mother, of course — including Mary Magdalene, who was a huge supporter of Jesus and helped fund his ministry. There was also Priscilla, Lydia, Martha, Phoebe, Mary of Bethany, Mary of Clops — more than 50 women mentioned by name in the New Testament who held leadership roles. Eventually men took on the roles of leadership, and for many years women’s roles were greatly curtailed.

The Desert Mothers believed their greatest enemies were things that bother me as well. Crowds, noise and continuous rushing here and there do not draw one to God. These ascetic women craved silence, so living in the harsh deserts of Egypt kept them focused and allowed them to be quiet and to hear the still small voice of God.

They sought out remote areas, ones with hostile environments — strong winds, little water, and sparse foliage. Such environs were considered the realm of the demonic — a place of death. This difficult lifestyle forced the Desert Mothers to deepen their sense of self. Like Jesus, they were doing battle in the wilderness.

To further devote their lives to God, they also observed severe ascetical practices. They ate very little, some even starving to death. They practiced self-denial in small ways, such as choosing simpler and less appetizing foods, sleeping on uncomfortable beds and wearing hair shirts. But they were delighted to have the freedom and independence to work toward their goal, which was abiding in God’s unconditional love. Their asceticism did not seek to draw attention to itself; these women were quiet, unobtrusive people, and their humility deepened their sense of connectedness with God’s people. They were selfless and always ready to provide spiritual advice and help to those in need in their religious community and even in the non-religious community.

The Desert Mothers fascinate me, though we dismiss their severe lifestyle choices because of our present-day sensibilities. Yet we can learn from their devotion, gentleness and determination to put God first.

One of the Desert Mothers, Amma Sarah (Amma, Latin for Mother), was a well-educated woman who lived alone for many years in a small cell near a river. She often attended to the needs of her nearby community. In her fascinating book The Forgotten Desert Mothers, author Laura Swann writes, “It is said that for 60 years she lived next to the river but never lifted her eyes to look at it.” I assume this was for fear that its beauty would distract her from being more fully united to God in prayer. She made use of her environment but did not feel any need to possess it. In other words, she certainly bathed and drank from the river but did not spend time enjoying its beauty.

Another woman, Eugenia of Alexandria, took her spiritual life to a new level. She dressed as a man and moved into a monastic community, where she fit in so well, she was elected abbot! She had a small cell built where she remained and managed to live a silent and solitary life while serving as a spiritual director for the brethren. I love her tenacity in achieving what she wanted in life, even though it was a bit deceptive. She proved that a woman could achieve what a man could, and she fulfilled her role remarkably well.

Swann writes that Amma Theodora is quoted as saying, “If one is habitually listening to secular speech, how can one yet live for God alone?” Wise words for us 21st century people.

For so many thousands of years, women’s contributions to the world have been in the shadows. Women were the “power behind the throne,” always playing supporting roles. Although nearly forgotten to time and history, the Desert Mothers enjoyed a certain freedom and controlled their own lives.

Only in relatively recent times have women emerged from the shadows of men to serve in roles of leadership, and in the Episcopal Church, permitted to celebrate the Eucharist or preach. There have of course always been nuns, but their work in the Church has generally been relegated to roles in teaching, serving or nursing. (I certainly do not mean to imply that these are not vital roles.) In the mid 1970s, I was the first woman permitted to read a lesson in front of a congregation at the main service at our church in Connecticut. That was big stuff. I always felt a sense of frustration that I was not permitted to serve as an acolyte or chalice bearer because of my gender. To learn that the Desert Mothers were permitted to do most everything within their communities was an inspiration, but what difficult lives they had to endure in order to have that taste of freedom! may be, are not enough. We need time to think about and process the course of our lives, to be sure — to turn off the screens and think quietly about our memories, hopes, dreams and worries. I know I don’t allow myself that time, which explains the intrusion of all the noise when I am in the car or as I prepare for bed.

The Desert Mothers were able to have an intimate life with God, which filtered out anything harmful to their souls. An impossible task in today’s world, it seems. I have a lot to learn from these wonderful women. And while I cannot emulate all of their lifestyle choices, I can learn from their devotion and desire to live simpler lives, as close to God as possible.