From the third century onward, the early Christian contemplatives who came to be known as the Desert Fathers and Mothers withdrew from towns and cities to live a life of solitude, prayer and simplicity in the deserts of Egypt, Palestine, and Syria. Their movement is widely considered the beginning of Christian monasticism.
The goal of the desert contemplatives was ever-deeper listening, ever-widening receptivity. They saw the desert not as a place of exile, but somewhere to become whole, where they might follow a pathway to freedom from self-centeredness and illusion, where they might seek God without compromise.
As Christianity developed and increasingly took on the trappings of imperial power, instead of supporting conformity and submission to the institution, they renounced the idea of controlling anything except their own passions. Rather than seek to exert power over the minds of others, they sought to train their own. Through a life of radical simplicity, they sought, by grace, to bring their life to single focus.
“If your eye is sound,” taught Jesus, “your whole body will be full of light” (Matthew 6:22). Recognising the light of our being which is love, we can become the light of love for those around us and the world.
The message of the Desert Fathers and Mothers is simple, compassionate, and timeless: truth and life are to be found in the work of contemplation.
Immediately before teaching us the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus introduces us to a way of prayer which resonates deeply with the most emphasised aspect his practice of communing with God in solitude and silence.
When we pray like this, we should not do so in a way that can be seen, that draws attention to what we are doing – including our own attention as we get caught up in trying to watch our own progress: “But when you pray, enter into your inner room and, having closed the door, pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matthew 6.6). In meditation we lift our attention off ourselves. We leave the outer rooms of self-conscious preoccupation, and enter the inner room of self-forgetful awareness, to pray in silent (‘secret’) communion with God.
The account of Jesus’ own temptation in the desert was also of great importance in the development of meditation as a simple but radically effective way of responding to the pull of our thoughts and cultivating stillness and peace in the face of them. Each time Jesus was tempted with a different form of power, he refused to enter into an internal dialogue with the tempting thought. Instead, he simply recited scripture, and kept reciting scripture for as long as was necessary to escape the inner chatter that so easily holds us captive, as we react to a thought with more and more thoughts.
Following the example of Jesus, these early Christian contemplatives developed the practice of reciting a prayer word or phrase to help bring the discursive (chattering) mind to greater and greater stillness and enter into silent prayer. Noting the direct transmission of this wisdom practice, the great fourth century desert father Evagrius says that Jesus, “passed on to us what he did when tempted… We must answer [tempting thoughts] with a verse from Holy Scripture’ – what is spoken of today a ‘prayer word’ or ‘prayer phrase’.
As the desert contemplatives became increasingly famous in their day, increasing number of pilgrims and seekers travelled to see them and sit at their feet. One of these visitors was a young man from modern-day Romania called John Cassian. In time, Cassian became the student of the great Evagrius. Early in the fifth century, Cassian travelled to Marseilles and established a monastic community there for man and women. A generation after Cassian’s death, his great work the Conferences of the Fathers had such a profound influence on Saint Benedict, that Benedict recommended in his Rule for monastic life that the Conferences should be read each day. In the Tenth Conference, ‘On Prayer,’ Cassian speaks of the prayer of the heart, the simple, luminous foundations of the way of meditation we teach.
The etching on the front of the book denotes a desert sunflower. These yellow-flowered plants sometimes grow alone, but more often you’ll find them in small clusters, lighting up sandy valleys.
In the Christian tradition, the sunflower—especially in the desert—has come to symbolise resilience and inner growth. Its turning toward the sun mirrors the soul’s longing for God, and the way a life can slowly orient itself to divine love and truth.
That something so vivid and full of life can grow in such a harsh and dry place speaks to the heart of the contemplative journey: that in the very places we feel most empty or uncertain, new life can begin to take root and quietly flourish.
Isaiah compares the blossoming of awareness to a bursting forth of life in the desert. The Prophet’s song tells of how the wilderness will bloom and burst into flower. And how a highway will be found there, called the Holy Way. Remarkable things happen in the desert. The desert is a womb of grace, bearing the most extraordinary gift for those who can wait patiently.