Absent from the Table: Worship and Asceticism in a Time of Pandemic

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Ascetism is never an easy subject to address, especially in a culture wrought by consumerism. The word evokes contempt and often is approached with suspicion. It raises questions about personal liberty and tends to be dismissed as a rule of life, especially since some may perceive asceticism to be incompatible with the pursuit of happiness. Despite great admiration and fondness for prominent ascetic figures like Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Teresa, few choose to engage an ascetic lifestyle or to entertain its possible merits. Such self-denial may be commendable, but it isn’t enticing. 

Even within the church, ascetism is a difficult subject to broach. Many have a limited understanding of it at best, associating the term with images of desert monastics or extreme practices of spiritual discipline. Its benefit as a common Christian disposition is by and large neglected, leaving asceticism relegated as a fringe topic studied by an esoteric group of theologians, historians, and ethicists. Thus, few in the church engage in study of the subject, and scarcely any value it as an aid for growth in virtue. While it does not make for a compelling conference theme nor does it have much appeal as a church growth strategy, asceticism is a significant topic nonetheless, and one that offers a cure to the poison of consumerism that has infected the contemporary church. 

To examine the subject of asceticism is to engage a study in desire. Inasmuch as asceticism is a posture wholly antithetical to consumerism, its significance resides in how it offers an alternative approach to the satiation of desire. A common misconception of asceticism, at least in Christianity, is that its goal is to transcend or eradicate desire, as if desire itself is evil. Practices of self-denial like fasting and abstinence are seen as ways of rejecting the flesh in order to transcend the world and achieve spiritual wholeness. This attitude sees the disentanglement of physical desire with spiritual desire as the ultimate goal of Christian life. Such a dualistic mentality is not the aim of Christian asceticism, however. The goal is not to overcome physical desire but rather to realign it with spiritual desire. The Christian ascetic recognizes physical and spiritual desire coexist completely intertwined. Both are indispensable to one another, and when rightly ordered, they work together to intensify desire for God. Thus, Christian asceticism is not the practice of restraining or dampening physical desire but instead animating all desire, orienting it in service to God. The question, then, is how does this work? Here, a few words on consumerism are needed.

Like asceticism, consumerism is a spiritual disposition, a way of looking at and interacting with the world. While both are driven by desire, each handles desire differently. In essence, consumerism is marked by indulgence and is spurred by unconstrained passion. Consumerism thrives on intense desire for material goods and yet a constant dissatisfaction with them. Goods are not hoarded; they are used up. Consumers do not cling to things, they discard them to buy other things, often newer versions of what they already own. Consumerism cultivates restlessness and a sense of urgency driven by the need to feel immediate and continual satiation of desire. Pleasure is sought in temporal things, and any sensation of satisfaction is also temporary and thus must be continually stoked. This is an enslavement of the soul as consumers become addicts to the act of consumption, treating the things of the world as objects for personal pleasure. It is no surprise, then, that gluttonous behavior, envious attitudes, and sexual addictions are natural characteristics and consequences of consumerism.

Whereas constant craving and instant gratification are principle motivators of consumerism, asceticism is motivated by what St. Augustine of Hippo calls “rightly ordered love.” It acknowledges that all desire demands satisfaction and therefore seeks healthy use of material things in order to enliven and intensify passion for God. Asceticism is not about following a set of rules and practices, rejecting the world, or attempting to achieve a certain elite spiritual status. Rather, at base, asceticism is a spiritual way of relating to the world. As Sarah Coakley puts it, it is “a demanding integration of intellectual, spiritual, and bodily practice over a lifetime, sustained by a complete vision of the Christian life” (The New Asceticism, 18). The goal is always deeper union with God and proper relationship to the world. 

Asceticism is characterized by patience, simplicity, moderation, restraint, chastity, and self-control. It commits to transformation of the passions through seasons of fasting, abstinence, and prayer. (While certainly this means fasting from food, it also requires intentional abstinence from other outlets of desire like sex, even sexual activity within the context of marriage.) By abstaining from the instant gratification of desire, the physical urge to satisfy intensifies but the spiritual desire begins to come into focus. Spiritual desire is deepened and, as the Christian ascetic embraces both the intense desire of the body as well as the spirit, he or she can turn toward God in contemplation and prayer. Satisfaction is thereby sought by means of participation in God – the Eternal and Supreme Good – rather than in temporal, lesser goods. Through this participation in God via prayer and contemplation, desire is refined and the world is rendered back as a gift to be received, not as an object for consumption. What were once self-indulgent desires are ultimately transformed into self-giving acts of love, justice, empathy, and compassion. True satisfaction is not something humans contrive for themselves but rather is a gift received from God, the only one who truly is able to give good gifts in the first place. 

Since ascetic practice is intended for the reorientation of the passions, asceticism has significant implications for the whole of Christian life, including practices in worship. As previously noted, humans are passionate creatures whose desires demand satisfaction. One implication here is that humans are not self-sufficient beings. They require something external to satisfy their longings. This is true both physically and spiritually. Similar to physical hunger, which is satiated through the act of eating, spiritual hunger is replete in worship, namely through word and sacrament – aspects of worship the Church has lifted up since its inception. Through the word and in the sacraments, the church encounters God and is fed by his grace. Word and sacrament therefore serve as means of grace whereby greater union with and delight in God is achieved. Both serve the church as divinely inspired channels, orienting human desire toward God.

In light of the pervasive consumerist mentality of the surrounding culture, a major concern for the church is making sure proper orientation of desire is maintained in its worshipping life. A consumeristic approach to worship seeks mental and/or emotional stimulation as a means of human gratification – something that may occur as a byproduct of worship but is not its purpose. When human stimulation becomes the goal of worship, worship is manufactured into a product to be consumed. Practices of worship are directed toward the enjoyment of a human experience and not the divine life. Because the intent of worship is delight in God, worship should direct us to participation in the divine life through love, whereby we cling to God and recognize the self’s dependence upon God and God’s grace. In worship, we do not bring the divine into the service of our own aims and ambitions, as if God is present to serve human purposes; instead, we delight in God in his own right. We are not to be consumers but rather the ones who are consumed. The problem is that we often cannot tell the difference between the two.

This is where asceticism is a great aid to the church’s corporate life as much as it is to Christians’ personal lives. For instance, what happens when the church is forced to abstain from certain practices in worship? What passions does this reveal? Is satiation being sought through temporal means or in God?

The recent COVID-19 pandemic has provided a prime opportunity for the church to engage in such reflection. As churches worldwide have closed their doors and moved all formerly in-person services to Facebook, church leaders have met the difficult task of producing meaningful online experiences in order to keep their congregations connected in worship. It has forced many pastors to evaluate what they truly believe about worship and to deal with spiritual desires that have been intensified due to physical absence. Although this extreme ascetic posture largely has been unwelcomed and unsought, the occasion for reflection on worship practices has never been greater.

One practice that has received much attention in recent months is the observance of online communion. While much could be said about the ecclesial and theological concerns surrounding the practice, those matters have been handled elsewhere. Instead, I want to hone in on an underlying danger of online communion particularly in light of the above material on asceticism and consumerism. 

Much of my uneasiness toward online communion resides in the way I see it as an abuse of the sacrament. By and large, the defenses and rationales I have heard stated by those who support the practice of online communion are based in ecclesial connection, communal experience, and meaningful engagement in worship. Certainly, all of these are good and proper things; however, they do not necessarily direct worship to the one true God. The sacraments are meant first and foremost to draw us into the life of God, renewing us by grace so that the love of self begins to lose its hold and new love for God emerges. While other benefits certainly come from sacramental practice, they are byproducts of the gift of grace we receive in the sacrament, which is God himself. To put it another way, sacramental worship should direct us toward God who is to be desired for his own sake, not for the sake of what he produces for us. To employ sacramental practice for the sake of human gratification is to abuse the sacraments and to use God for our own pleasure and appeasement. This is a violate and utilitarian treatment of God.  

An objection may arise at this point arguing that if sacramental practice is able to draw a person deeper into the life of God in a gathered church setting, why can it not be done online as well? Again, there are significant ecclesial and theological arguments that one must consider in answer to this. For the purpose of this article, however, my response is simply to ask the following question: if personal devotion to God is desired, then why not embrace an ascetic posture instead? Asceticism is the training of desire, and in a culture where instant gratification and consumption runs rampant, the church needs to be about the work of rightly ordering desire. At the very least this means not commodifying the divine for our own purposes and pleasures. 

While I am one to endorse with great vigor the regular, weekly celebration of communion in the gathered church setting, in times when a congregation must be physically absent from the table it is appropriate for the church to enter into a season of abstaining from partaking of the elements. This is not an easy task because the sacraments are a good and central part of the church’s life together. Ascetic practices are never easy; however, the possibility for deeper connection to God make the sacrifices worthwhile. Such commitment to self-denial is impossible without contemplation and prayer and requires fortitude in a consumeristic culture, especially as we come face-to-face with our own previously unacknowledged and misguided desires. It is important we re-think the current sacramental crisis in this light, because through it there is an opportunity to set forth a vision of human desire that needs to be thwarted of its consumeristic tendencies so desire can be purified, transformed, renewed, and ultimately intensified into greater love for God.

Jonathan A. Powers is Assistant Professor of Worship Studies at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky.