by Debra K. Farrington
He’s one of my favorite characters from the stories of the desert fathers and mothers, those souls who went out into the desert in the third and fourth centuries to live closer to God. His name was Hero, according to the story told by theologian John Cassian (c. 360–435). Hero lived in a desert community of hermits whose dwellings were far enough apart that they didn’t see each other daily, but close enough to gather for worship on Sunday. He spent his days fasting, praying, and studying, and those around him considered him very holy. The problem was that Hero, too, considered himself very holy. So holy, in fact, that he didn’t need to spend any time at all with others, not even for Sunday worship.
Then one night Hero dreamed that God invited him to jump into the community’s deep well from which he would emerge completely unharmed as proof of his holiness. Well, I don’t know about you, but God has never suggested that I do something just to show off. Calls from God don’t usually work that way. But Hero, living in isolation, was fooled into thinking that this was God’s desire, and he jumped down that well without consulting anyone. He had to be pulled out of the well by brothers from his community, and he died two days later still thinking he’d heard the voice of God.
Woe to any of us who starts thinking she doesn’t need community! While I’ll be the first to admit that community can be difficult sometimes, none of us can discern God’s hopes and desires without help. Any brother or sister in Hero’s community would have suggested that he question the voice he was hearing before jumping into that well. The 19th-century mystic Thérèse of Lisieux had a better way of plunging into God when she prayed: “Your love, Jesus, is an ocean with no shore to bound it. And if I plunge into it, I carry with me all the possessions I have. You know, Lord, what those possessions are—the souls you have seen fit to link with mine.”
The communities of which we are a part—churches, circles, small groups, neighborhoods, and others—are given to us by God, who has linked our souls together. The reason for a given community isn’t always obvious to me, and I don’t always agree with the people around me, but I trust that each grouping of souls in my life has something to offer me, and I to them.
So I invite you to pay attention to, and hold in prayer, one of the communities of which you are a part this month. What gifts do the souls in that community bring into your life? How do they affirm you, and you them? How do they challenge you and vice versa? What do they have to teach you, and what can you help them learn? Take some time to hold that community in God’s presence. Pray for their needs and give thanks for the souls that God has seen fit to link with yours. And if you sense that God is inviting you to jump into a well, check with someone else first.
Debra K. Farrington is a retreat leader and has written eight books of Christian spirituality. Her Web site is www.debrafarrington.com.
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