Red Sea Monasteries

Today I had about as much adventure as I can take, but it was great! Manu and I left the Mayfair at around 5:00 AM for our day trip out to the monasteries of St. Antony and St. Paul. After a three hour drive, we finally arrived at the Monastery of St. Antony, and before entering the monastery proper, we decided to embark on a particularly special adventure and attempt to visit an actual hermit living on the mountain. Although our plan was initially met with resistance, an Abouna finally told us how to find him. We were told the path to his cave diverged from the one to the popular cave of St. Antony, and that we should follow the red crosses until we got there. The monk said that if we didn't find Father Lazarus in the first cave, we should proceed up to the second one.


Not so hard, right? But it didn't take long for the path to become very steep.


I'm not in the best shape ever, so while Manu gracefully skipped up the mountain, I huffed and puffed along behind him, wondering how on earth I was ever going to get down. Before too long, though, we made it to cave #1. We scoped out the place and found some devotional phrases carved into wooden boards, as well as some water bottles, but no Father Lazarus. We gingerly knocked at the door and received no reply. I have never seen an actual door in the side of a mountain before, but there they were!


Although there were no more crosses to mark our path, there seemed to be a clear enough trail leading further upwards. I admit I might have chickened out at this point, but Manu is a braver soul than I, so we continued climbing. We climbed and climbed and climbed, up steep rocky paths and up makeshift steps, until we were up so high above the monastery that I couldn't believe it.


At last we came to another cave with a tiny, low door. When we saw a pair of shoes sitting on the mat outside, we grinned at each other and gently knocked. At first there was no answer, but after I called out, "Apa?" we heard a voice inside. After a little shuffling around inside, the door opened and there was Father Lazarus! He was very pleased we spoke English (and would not have come out otherwise), and was soon sitting on his front step making tea for us. He could not recall the last time he had foreign visitors.

Although Father Lazarus is originally from Australia, he left his life there as a philosophy professor and confirmed atheist to become a monk, first in Serbia, then in Greece, and finally in Egypt. We talked to him for well over two hours, discussing the Apophthegmata Patrum, or sayings of the desert fathers, and how they directly affect his life. It was fascinating to hear about desert life from a real, live desert father. Lazarus assured us that all of the stories I have read for class are quite true -- a solitary monk's greatest battle is with memories of the life he has left behind, and there really are demons out there who try to disturb monastic prayers. He talked about Saint Antony as though he were truly his father, and about the Virgin Mary as though she were truly his mother. He told us about the personal relationships he has with each of them, and claims to have seen and spoken with both. Father Lazarus recites the entire psalter every day, then continues to pray the Jesus Prayer throughout the remaining hours. He only sleeps six hours a day, in two-hour bursts during the afternoons, so that he can keep vigil at night like the famous watchful virgins of the Bible.

It was absolutely incredible to meet a man who emulates the lives of the Late Antique monks I so adore. While he appreciates the scholarly work Manu and I do, he prefers to ruminate over primary sources himself -- I can't blame him! Perhaps when Shenoute's works are finally published in English, I will bring him a copy.


Before Manu and I departed, I asked Father Lazarus for a "word," commonly dispensed by monks to their disciples in earlier times. He was at first reluctant to give us one because, as non-monks, we might not be able to appreciate his advice. But we ended up leaving with two words. First of all, never forget that you are going to die. And second, while you are alive, never be complacent and never let your fire die. Father Lazarus is as passionate about solitary life today as he was when he embarked on this path years ago. I hope I end up feeling the same about my own career.

After saying our goodbyes to Father Lazarus, we took his usual pathway to the cave where St. Antony allegedly spent the final years of his life. Lazarus takes this route nightly after completing midnight mass there, walking in pitch black darkness. I do not know how he accomplishes this, because that path is thin and right at the edge of a steep, rocky slope. I ended up clinging to a rock ledge, seriously worried that I was going to die. Manu was not so concerned, but let me tell you, I have never been so afraid for my well-being in my entire life. But we made it, and we finally reached the Cave of St. Antony! It is dark and cramped, but well worth a quick look.


Finally, Manu and I headed down the now-wimpy-seeming stairs to the monastery proper. It's very lovely, but its crowning glory is the church. The walls are covered with phenomenal paintings. Here is one of Moses the Black:


Moses was a particular favorite of the monk who showed us the church. He said he prayed to Moses often, and that while Antony -- known as the father of all monasticism -- was like a father to him, Moses was like a friend. Moses is one of my favorite desert fathers too, mainly because of his colorful history. Although he was once a thief and a murderer, Moses repented and became a very pious monk. I can't remember the story exactly, but in a vision where he sees the desert fathers in a procession, a monk sees one very serious father being contemplative on a boat, and second in line, he sees Apa Moses laughing and chatting with the angels. I'm with you, Moses!

After our visit to St. Antony's, we drove to St. Paul's, which is about an hour away. It, too, has phenomenal paintings in the church.


From left to right, these fine gentlemen are Apas Sarapion, Antony, and Paul. Paul is said to have been so holy that a crow sent by God would bring him half a loaf of bread every day. When Antony paid him a visit, the crow brought a full loaf for the monks to share. When Paul died, lions came to bury his body (although now his body is one of the relics in his church). The church at St. Paul's is supposed to be built around the cave Paul himself once inhabited. St. Antony's cave is remote from its monastery's main church, but has itself been converted into a place where mass is performed.

Overall today was pretty awesome, especially because I am still in one piece to tell you about it. Because there aren't exactly restaurants out in the desert, Manu and I stocked up on junk food to eat in the car. Here is my personal favorite, Egypt's imitation Oreos:


It sounds like a silly insult. "Oreos? More like BORE-eos!" They don't taste quite right, but I enjoyed them all the same.