So he was alone in the inner mountain, spending his time in prayer and discipline. And the brethren who served him asked that they might come every month and bring him olives, pulse and oil, for by now he was an old man. There then he passed his life, and endured such great wrestlings, ‘Not against flesh and blood,’ as it is written, but against opposing demons, as we learned from those who visited him. For there they heard tumults, many voices, and, as it were, the clash of arms. At night they saw the mountain become full of wild beasts, and him also fighting as though against visible beings, and praying against them. And those who came to him he encouraged, while kneeling he contended and prayed to the Lord. Surely it was a marvelous thing that a man, alone in such a desert, feared neither the demons who rose up against him, nor the fierceness of the four-footed beasts and creeping things, for all they were so many. But in truth, as it is written, ‘He trusted in the Lords as Mount Sion [sic], ‘with a mind unshaken and undisturbed; so that the demons rather fled from him, and the wild beasts, as it is written, ‘kept peace with him’ (Robertson; Schaff & Wace, p. 210).
What can be gleaned from Saint Anthony’s experience is that for an individual to expose one’s self to the presence of God in solitary confinement, so to speak, brings to light one’s inner demons that must be wrestled with in the hopes of true reconciliation to God and to self. Again, the argument that one can worship God on the golf course on Sunday morning is far from an authentic experience with the living God.
Because, for most, the solitary venture is not only arduous but also dangerous in terms of emotional, physical, psychological, and spiritual aspects of the individual, the need to reframe worship within a communal setting is warranted. And yet, the author appreciates the vocational calling of those (monks and nuns) who give themselves over to a life of prayer and service.
Communal Response of the Faithful
Much of what has been passed on to the Protestant churches in terms of communal worship models has been attributed to the 19th century philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard. It was he who elaborated on the communal experience of worship in that the congregation should be active participants in the service. In other words, passive by-standers are not the intent of the communal experience. Author Daniel Benedict, Jr retells the story of a young Ephesus girl within such a community that values her baptismal experience as their own:
As they had done during the months of scrutiny and instruction in the way of Christians, Lydia’s grandparents stood with her now in the crowded room. Small oil lamps burned, giving only enough light to illumine the faces of the presbyters, deacons, and her fellow candidates for baptism, who also were accompanied by their sponsors. On the way to the church they had passed the smoldering remains of a bonfire. Lydia stood shivering on the cold stone floor in the predawn, wondering what would happen next. Whatever it was, she wanted it to happen quickly. Lydia was a fourteen-year-old Ephesian, but she was eager to become a citizen of heaven. She knew she was ready to be one of them, as she had told her grandparents some weeks before….A presbyter directed the candidates to spit repudiation on the devil and renounce all the works of darkness….Without a word, Justina, another deacon, led Lydia down the steps into a pool.
Above, on the edge of the pool, the bishop bent over, tapped Lydia on the shoulder with his staff and asked her, ‘Do you believe in God the Father, the Maker of heaven and earth?’ She hesitated, unsure of whether to answer aloud or just think her response. Justina squeezed her arm and pointed to the bishop, prompting her to answer aloud. ‘Yes, I do,’ said Lydia. And before she knew what was happening, Justina, a stout woman, pushed her under the water. Lydia struggled back up, gasping for the breath she had not taken after her answer. She wanted to cry but didn’t know why. Then the bishop asked, ‘Lydia, do you believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son; born of the Virgin Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, died, and buried; and descended to the dead? Do you believe that he was raised on the third day and ascended into heaven?’ This time Lydia did not pause but shot back, ‘I do,’ grabbing her nose as Justina again pushed her under the waves like Jonah being cast overboard. A third time the bishop tapped her on the shoulder with his staff and asked, ‘Lydia, do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting?’ This time it was beginning to be fun as she found the rhythm of call, response, and dunk! Justina guided Lydia up the steps to her grandparents, Marcus and Julia, who were waiting to embrace her with a towel and words of rejoicing. Then they clothed her in a simple white garment.
One by one the other candidates were immersed as Lydia stood in the warm glow of lamps on the wall sconces, and sunlight began to peek in through the clerestory windows at the top of the room….Her attention snapped back to the present moment as she heard the sound of singing on the other side of the double doors. The words were no longer indistinct: ‘Christos aneste…’ (‘Christ is risen…’). The singing grew louder and louder as if faith was growing with excitement. The bishop interrupted the singing as he pounded on the doors with his fist and chanted in a different key, ‘Christos aneste!’ Lydia heard the people inside join the chant, singing: Christ is risen from the dead trampling down death by death and on those in the tombs, bestowing life! The bishop, standing at the now open doors, called out, ‘Let the newborn of God join the assembly.”
There in the crowded assembly room were the faces of those Lydia had seen on Sundays when she had gathered to hear the reading of the holy scriptures and the preaching of the bishop. They looked like angels rejoicing. Heaven was opened in proud welcome as the bishop led the newly born into the midst of the assembly (2007, pp. 81-85).
This is a beautiful description of a community in response to the individual’s rite of passage. It is also a telling story of how the community is being responsive to one another. Worship in this setting in which, as the bishop stated, “Christ is risen!” is bringing forth the good news to a community that has its identity shaped and formed by scripture and response.
In its infancy, the Church formed itself around four distinct modes of worship: study/preaching, fellowship, breaking of bread, and the prayers/hymns (Acts 2: 42). Remembering that the Church was Jewish in its matrix, the reader would be cautioned to view this early Church through the lens of 21st century Christianity. But, at any rate, the distinct Messianic appeal of the early Church categorized anticipated hope of Christ’s return. In fact, an early follower of Jesus may have viewed the breaking of bread as a messianic anticipation:
Perhaps every meal for the church was experienced as an anticipation of the Messianic banquet, a foretaste of Jesus’ promise that his followers would ‘eat and drink at my table in my kingdom (Luke 22:30).’ In their eating and drinking the resurrection community is already a partial fulfillment of that promise, enjoying now what shall soon be consummated in the kingdom of God. The prophet’s call is fulfilled, ‘Ho, every one who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money…Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price’ (Isa. 55:1) (Willimon, 1988, p. 41).
Like Lydia’s story, the early Church worshipped in response to the anticipation that Christ is risen and death is gone!
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