Simon Stylites: I Come to the Garden Alone
“It’s not about you, stop your navel-gazing, get down from the pillar, get a job at the factory and live for God there!” That’s what I would tell Simon Stylites (c. 390-459) if he came asking for my advice. Stylites is derived from the Greek word “style” or “pillar.” Simon died September 2, 459 after living on a small platform on top of a fifty-foot pillar for 37 years near Aleppo, Syria.
Why did he do it? Maybe Benedict understood this odd man when he wrote: “The life of a monk ought to be a continuous Lent.” But who isn’t attracted on some level to a life of complete abandon - leaving this crazy world behind and devoting ourselves fully to the pursuit of God? No crying babies, no Covid19, no nine-to-five, no taxes or car repairs - only me and God in a tiny house with a big library in northern New Mexico doing our own thing and trying to sort things out. Simon clearly felt that his act of self-isolation allowed him to concentrate solely on spiritual realities and on prayer for the spiritually embattled world. To further remove himself from the increasing numbers of people who came to see and consult this strange fellow, Simon moved from a 10 foot pillar to the taller getaway. Small boys from a nearby village reportedly would climb up a ladder to pass him parcels of flat bread and goat milk. His dramatic attempt to escape from the world attracted a number of copycat ascetics.
Perhaps Simon did what he did for the same reasons modern-day evangelicals do what they do, “working” the program of Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline hoping it will deliver them to God. Self gratification and self fulfillment has become the goal for many and the message from many pulpits in the land. We've joined Joel Osteen in making everything about "me." I choose to raise my hand and accept Jesus into my heart; my quiet time with God is the means for my spiritual progress; I read the Bible as God's love-letter to me for my personal transformation; I see the characters of the Bible as examples for me to emulate or to avoid (my story rather than God's story); and the church I select better feed and coddle me otherwise I'll move from church to church to find one that does. We are all Simons! "The mighty Me stays enthroned, even when the mighty Me is in the church pew" (Trevin Wax). Michael Horton was right to say that “Americans just want to be left alone to create their own private Idaho.” This I-come-to-the-garden-alone-while-the-dew-is-still-on-the-roses-Christianity makes it all about following my own inner voice, when biblical Christianity is anything but that.
Christianity is not our journey to God, it is first and foremost his journey to us. It is not about achieving some spiritual thing that is just beyond our reach, but rather learning to live in the light of “It is finished.” It’s not about self-actualization but about adjusting ourselves to God’s story. It is not what we do for him, but what he has done for undeserving sinners like us.
The resurgence of interest in historic, liturgical, creedal worship is an example of how individuals are reconnecting to something much bigger than themselves. The 16th century Reformation uniquely pointed people to Christ, countering early Christian gnosticism (the answer is in me by a special experience or revelation) and Medieval mysticism (the answer is in what I do for God climbing the rungs of the ladder to heaven). Our hope is in a righteousness that is not self-righteousness: the righteousness of Christ imputed to those who didn’t earn it, could not do enough to earn it, and will never in this life be righteousness enough to be awarded it. Good works were essential for the Protestant reformers, but in each case they are considered the fruit and overflow of a life captured by the one-way-love of God.
“It [the Reformation] called people out of themselves, away from their good works as well as their sins, to cling to Christ alone through faith alone. The entire worship service was transformed to give clear priority to the gospel of Christ. No longer was it to be seen as the church’s sacrifice to God but as God’s redemptive service to the people, who then left the service to love and serve their neighbors through their ordinary callings. There were still sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving, but no more sacrifices for sin, and even the former were simply the amen of faith to God’s God News.”
“The attempt to find Christ in our lives rather than in the gospel is a failure in two ways: it means misunderstanding Christ and therefore misunderstanding ourselves. For we belong to our Beloved, and we will not find who we really are by looking at our lives first and then trying to fit Christ into them. That gets things backward. True self-knowledge begins by locating ourselves in Christ’s story, knowing ourselves as one of those for whom he came and died and rose again, so that Christ lives in us. And that’s the order: we first find ourselves in Christ, and then Christ lives in us.”
“So ever the consummate pastor, Cranmer’s reuse of the traditional Collect appointed for Easter Sunday takes head on how we should seek to change. But the prayer doesn’t start where we might expect. It doesn’t start with us - not by reminding us of our obligation before God, not by trying to stir up the intensity of our desire to be better, not even by seeking to spur our will-power to make good choices. The prayer simply begins by relying on God’s promise in Phil. 2:13: “For it is God, which works in you, both the will and also the deed, even of good will.” Cranmer starts our pursuit of holiness with God’s pursuit of us.”