A new trend seems to have emerged on the Lutheran front. Societies, as in the Society of Jesus, aka the Jesuits (SJ). Two have been spotted thus far, though I imagine there are others. The Society of the Holy Trinity (STS, for Societas Trintatis Sanctae; SHT would have been unfortunate). And the Society for St. Polycarp (SSP), named after the bishop of Smyrna, a martyr of the church and student of St. John.
As I understand it, these societies are intended to encourage pastors to do their work, pray the daily office, and chant Gregorian. I occasionally hang out with our local chapter of the STS here in California. They're a great bunch of guys and put on a terrific retreat. I greatly enjoy their company and collegiality, and they put up with me. I've never considered joining. Societies have "rules," and I have more rules than I can handle at the moment. Rules at home, rules at church (especially with regard to the use of the Parish Hall kitchen), rules from the state, rules from the synod. Not to mention the Ten Commandments, which are one rule I wouldn't want to be measured against. The last thing I need is another "rule."
I do like the idea of a "society," however. Society has a nice ring to it. From the Latin societas by way of old French. A "friendly association with others," "a group of people living together in an ordered community," "fashionable people and their doings" are among the definitions. I particularly like the last one. Fashionable people and their doings. I like to think of myself as fashionable.
While I'm not much into joining societies, I have a good idea for one. The Society of St. Simeon Stylites. It would be a society for misanthropic introverts. In case you haven't heard of him, Simeon was a 5th century ascetic who took rules to new heights of absurdity. As a monk, Simeon once tried to do a full forty days of fasting for Lent, aided by palm fronds wrapped tightly around his waist as a kind of early gastric bypass. Apparently it took days of soaking to get the palm fibers out of the wound. Don't try this at home, kids. Tying palm fronds into little crosses is a much better idea.
Simeon didn't seem to care for people very much, though people kept bugging him all the time. To get away, he shut himself up in his hut for three years, where he tried that 40 days of palm fronds idea. When that didn't work, he shut himself up in a cave that was less than 20 meters in diameter. Finally, he went vertical and took to sitting on top of a pillar about 50 feet off the ground. In California, we have tree sitters, but that's a different idea. I don't have any details on how they got food and water up and waste down from Simeon's perch, but as legend has it, he spent 37 years up there. Apparently, he didn't permit any women, including his mother, to come near. In fact, when his mother died, they brought her body to Simeon so he could bid farewell from atop his perch. (Note to self: Give Mom a call.) Like everything else weird in the religious world, Simeon's pole sitting actually caught on and inspired a whole "stylites" movement of ascetics living on top of pillars.
I prefer the privacy of my house with the company of my wife, two cats, and occasional visits by a few good friends, but I do identify with Simeon's need to get away from people now and then. That's one reason I took up scuba diving. So I figure, this strange saint who sat on a pole most of his life would be a great patron for a society of pastors who are just looking for a little peace and quiet. We would have only one rule: Leave me alone.
Would you walk thousands of miles to see a kook sitting atop a pillar? I wouldn't. I don't think many people's curiosity would be that strong, to see something bizarre. (Bizarre usually implies disgusting.) Yet people did walk that far to see St. Symeon. They came on foot from as far away as England.
The man's severe asceticism was a much a challenge to people of his own time as it is to us today. His enemies ridiculed as much then as now, and on the same grounds. Yet people kept coming to him, thousands every day. Word had spread that from him you could receive wise counsel for your personal problems, gain much from his spiritual advice, experience via him God's own love that would leave you in tears. People flocked to him for confession and guidance. God had also given the world, through St. Simeon, the gift of bodily healing, which frankly was probably the main draw.
He was very well beloved by countless people, who knew he loved them more. The very worms that dropped from his body were regarded by the people as precious pearls, which they eagerly gathered up.
His tower was the only way he could withdraw from the constant crowds during certain hours to have time to pray and read Scripture.
Do you think St. Symeon may have been onto something, may have known something you don't realize?
Obviously, you're being tongue-in-cheek. But some of your readers may conclude that following a Rule is just more Law. I just wanted to clarify that the word "Rule" is not in the American sense of "rules and regulations" but rather of "regula" in the Latin sense.
Having a routine of daily prayer isn't legalism any more than brushing your teeth in the morning "as a rule" - which I hope we all do!
I floss twice a day, as a rule. It helps keep my tongue in cheek, so to speak. That came after upper bite wing gum surgery, which I don't wish on my worst enemies.
Well, I wouldn't know for sure, but the biography says actual pearls. The worms, it is said, turned to pearls upon hitting the ground.
Symeon was universally recognized as a man of God even in his lifetime; and he had the wisdom, the kindness, and the miraculous powers to demonstrate it as well. He was a unique person and difficult to come to terms with, but he was the Holy Spirit's own (weird!) work of art (or at least you might like to consider that he may have been), and as such, not to be ridiculed because he is hard to understand.
I'm searching for where "weird" and the Holy Spirit intersect. Ezekiel, perhaps, or on occasion Isaiah and Jeremiah, but their weirdness had prophetic content. St. Simeon Stylites, on the other hand, seems just plain weird.
Performance art might be one way of looking at it.
Posted On: August 22nd, 2008 at 9:49pm by Rev. Tom Fast
My curiosity is getting the best of me. Did the worms have their way with St. Simeon? Or is he still with us, bodily, today? If not, then what would he teach us in his death and decay? His millenia in the grave might teach us just as much as his decades on the pillar.
Living on a pillar or lying in a grave, the worm is sure to get me. All I have to say is "Kyrie eleison!"
Posted On: August 24th, 2008 at 2:03pm by Rev. Tom Fast
Your's, God's, and anyone whom I offended.
No excuse, but I was out of sorts Friday evening and was bloviating all over the blogosphere with little regard for the sarcastic edge my comments carried.
My life is not an example of supreme self-discipline. Neither am I a very good example of victorious Christian living. St. Simeon is so utterley different, whether or not his worms actually turned to pearls, that I can't remotely relate to him. Then again, he died, just like the rest of us. We do have that in common. If I can't follow the example he set in his 37 years of living on a pillar, perhaps I can live up the the example he set of resting for 1500 years in the grave.
We are *ALL* beggars, afterall. Luther was right. Gimme the Gospel. I want a life "governed" by Good News. Then, let the chips...er worms...fall where they may.
Mine you don't need, because I found nothing offensive, and I'm not very easily offended, since being perpetually offended is not the way free men live;
Others will have to speak for themselves, for their mileage doth vary according to the measure of faith given them.
I agree with you. Give me 200 proof Gospel (yes, I know there's only a max of 190 proof, but let's not quibble here over strong drink). I'll leave the pole sitting, and also the fence sitting, to others.
.jpg)
