The Ascetic Life and the Path to Christ, Mortification of the Senses
By Family of Saint Sharbel USA Editorial Team
To those of us who live outside the monastery, and even to some of us who live within one, the bodily mortifications St. Sharbel chose to undergo may seem both mysterious and extreme. As a monk and later hermit, St. Sharbel fasted every day, eating just one meal in the afternoon that never included meat, sweets, or even fruit, despite performing hard labor in the fields. He wore a notoriously uncomfortable hair shirt beneath his habit; he slept very little each night and used a log for a pillow; if he saw a woman walking by, he cast his eyes downward or even changed his path; after being outside in cold weather, he would return to the monastery immediately, not pausing even to warm himself at the fire outside. If doing just what St. Sharbel did is not required of everyone for salvation, what purpose did this Saint’s discomfort serve?
In the Syriac Churches especially, ascetic practices, including physical mortifications (meaning, essentially, forms of physical self-denial), are considered essential to spirituality. Asceticism, derived from the Greek word “askesis,” means “training.” Yet what are we Christians, and what was St. Sharbel, “training” for? What does askesis have to do with Jesus, and why should training look like this?
The wisdom hidden behind the ascetic work of St. Sharbel, like that of many other saints, was the training of his heart, the formation of his will. Since we are each a union of body and soul, what we do in and with our bodies directly affects our souls. Thus, despite appearances, acts of physical self-denial are essential to Christian spiritual training (askesis) because they have a profound impact on the human heart. They affect our wills even more than our bodies.
The Great Commandment tells us to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength and your neighbor as yourself” (Lk. 10:27). This is a call, really, to a total self-gift that takes grace and, typically, practice. Consequently, in any way he could, St. Sharbel was always looking to “lift a stronger weight” or “do the most rather than the least,” so to speak, and physical mortifications played an imperative role. St. Sharbel gave up more and more of his own earthly comforts, attachments, and will so that he might “decrease” and God might increase (John 3:30). His strivings toward self-abandonment were not borne of self-hatred or contempt for the physical world, which God created good (Gen. 1), but in making the choices he made daily, St. Sharbel was training himself to choose God over everything else, even very good things. He was making a habit of relinquishing all but what was necessary, practicing the act of foregoing even the mildest comfort as a response to the Great Commandment.
When considering the mortifications St. Sharbel undertook, Christ’s example is enlightening. Led by the same Spirit, Jesus fasted while being tempted in the desert for 40 days and nights, clearing his body and physical surroundings of all distractions before beginning his earthly ministry (Matt. 4:2). He taught that this method—prayer and fasting—is the only way to cast out certain demons (Mark 9:29). While traveling to preach about the kingdom of God, Jesus also said that “the son of man has no place to lay his head” (Matt. 8:20), indicating, in one sense, that he had given up home and even the comfort of a bed for the sake of his calling and, in another, that his real home is not in this world. The 10 Commandments, which Jesus followed perfectly, affirmed that we should have no false gods (Exod. 20:3), and Jesus preached that we should “love one another as I have loved you” (Jn. 13:34-35). Jesus ultimately gave up his physical life entirely so that nothing could act as his god but the Father, and in doing so, he loved all others as he loved himself.
These acts, among many others, demonstrated that the Son of God preferred—and so calls the world to prefer—his Father and the good of souls to even his own physical life and will. St. Sharbel’s ascetic practices, then, were ways that he could habitually deepen his communion with Christ as a monk, following Jesus to total self-gift. Fasting and praying as a hermit, St. Sharbel lived in harmony with Christ who fasted, prayed, and resisted temptation alone in the desert. Sleeping little and without a real pillow and giving himself no “home” in the world, St. Sharbel could relive the conditions of Christ’s ministry and remain aware that God is our ultimate home. Continually denying himself even reasonable comforts and embracing poverty, chastity, and obedience radically, St. Sharbel could conform his heart to Christ’s on the cross with totality, letting nothing and no one be a false god to him. These were acts of humility, as a servant is not greater than their master (Jn. 13:16), and, as such, should never place themself above their Creator and Lord.
In our own lives, we are each called to imitate Christ radically and totally, and asceticism—the training of our wills to conform to Christ’s—is essential to our spiritual growth. For every soul, this will look different. How might Christ be longing to shape your heart?
Some Questions to Consider:
What, if anything, do I prefer to do rather than spend time in prayer? What makes it difficult for me to give of myself and my resources (whatever amount I can spare) to others in need? Where in my life does my attachment to something limit my relationship with God or other people? Where can I invite the Holy Spirit more deeply into my heart?
May God bless you and grant you the grace of experiencing His love for you always.
In the Syriac Churches especially, ascetic practices, including physical mortifications (meaning, essentially, forms of physical self-denial), are considered essential to spirituality. Asceticism, derived from the Greek word “askesis,” means “training.” Yet what are we Christians, and what was St. Sharbel, “training” for? What does askesis have to do with Jesus, and why should training look like this?
The wisdom hidden behind the ascetic work of St. Sharbel, like that of many other saints, was the training of his heart, the formation of his will. Since we are each a union of body and soul, what we do in and with our bodies directly affects our souls. Thus, despite appearances, acts of physical self-denial are essential to Christian spiritual training (askesis) because they have a profound impact on the human heart. They affect our wills even more than our bodies.
The Great Commandment tells us to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength and your neighbor as yourself” (Lk. 10:27). This is a call, really, to a total self-gift that takes grace and, typically, practice. Consequently, in any way he could, St. Sharbel was always looking to “lift a stronger weight” or “do the most rather than the least,” so to speak, and physical mortifications played an imperative role. St. Sharbel gave up more and more of his own earthly comforts, attachments, and will so that he might “decrease” and God might increase (John 3:30). His strivings toward self-abandonment were not borne of self-hatred or contempt for the physical world, which God created good (Gen. 1), but in making the choices he made daily, St. Sharbel was training himself to choose God over everything else, even very good things. He was making a habit of relinquishing all but what was necessary, practicing the act of foregoing even the mildest comfort as a response to the Great Commandment.
When considering the mortifications St. Sharbel undertook, Christ’s example is enlightening. Led by the same Spirit, Jesus fasted while being tempted in the desert for 40 days and nights, clearing his body and physical surroundings of all distractions before beginning his earthly ministry (Matt. 4:2). He taught that this method—prayer and fasting—is the only way to cast out certain demons (Mark 9:29). While traveling to preach about the kingdom of God, Jesus also said that “the son of man has no place to lay his head” (Matt. 8:20), indicating, in one sense, that he had given up home and even the comfort of a bed for the sake of his calling and, in another, that his real home is not in this world. The 10 Commandments, which Jesus followed perfectly, affirmed that we should have no false gods (Exod. 20:3), and Jesus preached that we should “love one another as I have loved you” (Jn. 13:34-35). Jesus ultimately gave up his physical life entirely so that nothing could act as his god but the Father, and in doing so, he loved all others as he loved himself.
These acts, among many others, demonstrated that the Son of God preferred—and so calls the world to prefer—his Father and the good of souls to even his own physical life and will. St. Sharbel’s ascetic practices, then, were ways that he could habitually deepen his communion with Christ as a monk, following Jesus to total self-gift. Fasting and praying as a hermit, St. Sharbel lived in harmony with Christ who fasted, prayed, and resisted temptation alone in the desert. Sleeping little and without a real pillow and giving himself no “home” in the world, St. Sharbel could relive the conditions of Christ’s ministry and remain aware that God is our ultimate home. Continually denying himself even reasonable comforts and embracing poverty, chastity, and obedience radically, St. Sharbel could conform his heart to Christ’s on the cross with totality, letting nothing and no one be a false god to him. These were acts of humility, as a servant is not greater than their master (Jn. 13:16), and, as such, should never place themself above their Creator and Lord.
In our own lives, we are each called to imitate Christ radically and totally, and asceticism—the training of our wills to conform to Christ’s—is essential to our spiritual growth. For every soul, this will look different. How might Christ be longing to shape your heart?
Some Questions to Consider:
What, if anything, do I prefer to do rather than spend time in prayer? What makes it difficult for me to give of myself and my resources (whatever amount I can spare) to others in need? Where in my life does my attachment to something limit my relationship with God or other people? Where can I invite the Holy Spirit more deeply into my heart?
May God bless you and grant you the grace of experiencing His love for you always.
