Detachment and Laymen
The idea of detachment is fairly prevalent in Orthodox practice. St. John of the Ladder speaks of it in depth. I understand it's popular in the Philokalia, although I haven't read that yet. And it's found in other monastic writings. But what does detachment mean for a layman? For that matter, what place does contemplation have for a layman? That is the question I've been pursuing for some time.
It seems to me many times when I read or hear about detachment, there's a kind of disclaimer that it's mainly for monastics. We laypeople are in the world, so our level of detachment might not be that significant. I guess I would agree with that to a point. Obviously I've made a commitment to my wife and family, so I must fulfill that. But I still think there's a lot of room for detachment.
Another argument I've heard is we should be detached in our heart. Kind of like as long as we say we're detached, it's okay to live otherwise.
I don't have an answer for this yet. In fact, it will probably be a lifetime working it out. Being laid off for 6 months this year really brought this idea of detachment home. I had to face every day feeling like a loser: I had no job, I didn't respect myself, I doubt there was much respect out there for me anyway. I thought back to other losses in my life: our first daughter being stillborn, and my father and mother dying 8 years ago. Many days I feel like a failure as a husband and father. I'm embarrassed over leaving the Orthodox church a year ago, though we've since returned.
Through all of this, there is a temptation to despair. Or I could try and deceive myself with positive thinking, and just tell myself everything is great. For me, there's a middle way: detachment. For the sake of argument, let's say I may be a failure. But go one step further: what does it really matter? Where is my focus? On my self esteem, or how I think others perceive me? What if I did fail at every single thing I attempt in life? That doesn't, or shouldn't, change my relationship with God. I should continue to devote myself to prayer. In fact, failure has probably been better at bringing me to my knees than success would.
A man went to see one of the desert fathers for a word. Abba told him go to the cemetery, and curse those buried there. The man went and spent hours cursing the dead, throwing rocks at their graves, and insulting them. Upon his return, the Abba instructed him to go back to the cemetery and praise the dead. The man went there, praising the dead for being great saints, and for their accomplishments. He lathered them with his blessing. When he returned to the Father, Abba asked him "What did they do when you cursed them?" The man replied "nothing, they laid in their tombs in silence." Abba asked him "what did they do when you blessed them?" "Nothing, they remained silent." Abba said: go and do likewise.
That is detachment.
It seems to me many times when I read or hear about detachment, there's a kind of disclaimer that it's mainly for monastics. We laypeople are in the world, so our level of detachment might not be that significant. I guess I would agree with that to a point. Obviously I've made a commitment to my wife and family, so I must fulfill that. But I still think there's a lot of room for detachment.
Another argument I've heard is we should be detached in our heart. Kind of like as long as we say we're detached, it's okay to live otherwise.
I don't have an answer for this yet. In fact, it will probably be a lifetime working it out. Being laid off for 6 months this year really brought this idea of detachment home. I had to face every day feeling like a loser: I had no job, I didn't respect myself, I doubt there was much respect out there for me anyway. I thought back to other losses in my life: our first daughter being stillborn, and my father and mother dying 8 years ago. Many days I feel like a failure as a husband and father. I'm embarrassed over leaving the Orthodox church a year ago, though we've since returned.
Through all of this, there is a temptation to despair. Or I could try and deceive myself with positive thinking, and just tell myself everything is great. For me, there's a middle way: detachment. For the sake of argument, let's say I may be a failure. But go one step further: what does it really matter? Where is my focus? On my self esteem, or how I think others perceive me? What if I did fail at every single thing I attempt in life? That doesn't, or shouldn't, change my relationship with God. I should continue to devote myself to prayer. In fact, failure has probably been better at bringing me to my knees than success would.
A man went to see one of the desert fathers for a word. Abba told him go to the cemetery, and curse those buried there. The man went and spent hours cursing the dead, throwing rocks at their graves, and insulting them. Upon his return, the Abba instructed him to go back to the cemetery and praise the dead. The man went there, praising the dead for being great saints, and for their accomplishments. He lathered them with his blessing. When he returned to the Father, Abba asked him "What did they do when you cursed them?" The man replied "nothing, they laid in their tombs in silence." Abba asked him "what did they do when you blessed them?" "Nothing, they remained silent." Abba said: go and do likewise.
That is detachment.
posted by Jeff at
4:43 PM
