In the fourth and fifth centuries after the death of Jesus, Christian men and women made homes in the desert of Egypt. They became known as the Desert Fathers and Mothers. Devoted to union with God through silence and solitude, and to service of the world through prayer, spiritual direction and writing, these hermits savored and shared surprising spiritual wisdom.
One of them was Abba Moses. As an Ethiopian, Moses was a person of color and therefore also called Black Moses. Enslaved when he was a youth, he later came into contact with the Desert Fathers and Mothers and devoted his life to the monastic lifestyle. His presence in this ancient community helps illuminate the African roots of the Christian faith and the vital role of people of color in the Christian faith.
As a black man in a religious community in which he was a minority, Moses endured racial prejudice. One story describes a council of monks grumbling, “Why does this black man come among us?” Another story reveals the archbishop who ordained him treating him in racist ways. During the ceremony, Moses was clothed in a white ephod, and the archbishop remarked, “See, Abba Moses, now you have become all white.”
Undeterred, Moses gained a reputation for giving a voice to those who had none. One story tells how a council was called to judge a monk for some unnamed crime. Moses was invited to join the panel of judges. He refused to come. He wanted nothing to do with building walls between people. A messenger was sent, begging him to come. So, Moses came. As he walked, he carried a leaky jug with him. When he arrived, he had the jug on his back, and water from it was leaking onto the sand behind him. Moses moved into the council’s midst and said, “My sins run out behind me, and I do not see them, and today I am coming to judge the errors of another.” His parable-in-life silenced the council and the accused brother was released.
One of Moses’ most widely quoted sayings may sound peculiar to us, but it sets the stage for a needed spiritual practice. While Moses was in Scetis, a brother came to him and begged him for a word. Here’s what Moses said:
“Go, stay inside your cell, and your cell will teach you all things.”
The cell was the small space within the living space where monks practiced solitude, reading, meditation and prayer. We should not think of a space filled with comfortable recliners, a mini-refrigerator with cold drinks and savory snacks, and twelve foot windows opening out onto a mountain vista and pristine lake waters. It was just the opposite. “Life in the cell could be excruciating, a place of loneliness, temptation, boredom.” The cell was considered a furnace. A crucible. And Moses’ advice was to stay in this cell and allow it to teach us all things.
The cell, especially as Moses was using it here, was a symbol. It stood for a person’s willingness to stay, to endure, to persist in the practices to which they’d been called, even if it was inconvenient and uncomfortable. We might call this Cell-Sitting. The Desert Fathers and Mothers had been called to solitude and prayer. Cell-sitting thus meant persisting at solitude and prayer even in the face of discomfort. We have been called to love God, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Cell-sitting thus means persisting at this love, especially at loving our neighbor, even if it becomes painful or protracted.
Cell-sitting is what Jesus did and what he called us to:
“Before the Passover celebration, Jesus knew that his hour had come to leave this world and return to his Father. He had loved his disciples during his ministry on earth, and now he loved them to the very end “(Jn. 12:1 NLT)
Becoming churches and Christians who love people as Jesus did, “to the end,” with an enduring and persistent love, requires discipline and discomfort. It doesn’t happen by simply signing a letter or writing a post or participating in an online discussion. These are good steps. They clarify our vision and intention. But what’s also needed is the determination to enter into long-lasting ways of re-thinking and re-living. What’s needed is sweat-inducing, muscle-aching, fatigue-bringing, mind-blowing, wholesale renovation rebuilding work.
To be sure our persistence is not the only thing God uses to bring about the restoration of our humanity. The project of re-becoming the humans we were always meant to be is also empowered by the supernatural work of the Spirit. Nonetheless it also requires human effort. Discipline. Determination. Habits. Practices. Staying the course. Nothing can replace that.
My friend Jovan Barrington, who preaches in Littleton, CO wrote this on Twitter:
“I once sat at a dinner party when another guest and the host said Colin Kaepernick should ‘shut up and play football.’ (Colin’s peaceful protest was raising awareness to police brutality against POC). In a rather heated conversation. I told him it would be good for him to watch videos, and read some books so that he could have a better understanding of racism in America. He said that the average person doesn’t have time for that…”
This person lacked vision. He didn’t even want to envision becoming someone other than who he already was. He also lacked intention and means. He was unwilling to consider the labor it required to foster mind-change and heart-change within himself. “The average person doesn’t have time for that…”
Therein lies one of the great challenges before us. Acquiring the character of Christ isn’t something we drift into. Writing a few posts won’t turn me into a person valuing each person as one made in the image of God anymore than declaring my belief in Jesus as the Son of God on the night of my baptism turned me into a Christ-like person. It takes a lifetime of practice. It takes hard work. Day after day after day after day. In a phrase it takes cell-sitting. Abba Moses is still speaking, “Go, stay inside your cell, and your cell will teach you all things.”
So, here’s the practice…
- First, “Go.” Especially as it relates to loving your neighbor as you love yourself. What person or group is God challenging you to demonstrate long-lasting love for? And, in what way is he challenging you to show that love? Perhaps he’s nudging you to express concrete love for people of color. Perhaps he’s inviting you to care for a group particularly endangered by COVID-19. Get up and get going. Start showing that love in practical and meaningful ways.
- Second, “stay.” As best you can, set an intentional and long-lasting goal regarding how long you believe God is inviting you to love this person or this group. Stretch yourself. A month? A quarter? A half year? A year? Longer? Stay at this.
- Third, “and your cell will teach you all things.” As you engage in the persistent forms of love you believe God’s calling you to, take time to reflect each day, week, or month. What is God teaching you through your obedient and persistent determination to remain in this space of love?
