Father
Seraphim was born into a typical white middle class Protestant family
in San Diego in 1934. While growing up, he was the proverbial dutiful
child and academic achiever. After high school, however, he began to
passionately seek the answer to the question "Why?"--and, not finding it
in the society in which he had been raised, he began to rebel. He
refused to accept the accepted answers. This was at the very beginning
of the modern counterculture, the early 1950's. Father Seraphim became a
student of one of the counterculture's first pioneers, Alan Watts (whom
he realized later was totally pseudo) and became a Buddhist Bohemian in
San Francisco.
He learned ancient Chinese in order to study the Tao Teh
Ching and other ancient Eastern texts in their original language,
hoping thereby to tap into the heart of their wisdom. By this time he
had wholly rejected the Protestant Christianity of his formative years,
which he regarded as worldly, weak, and fake; he mocked its concept of
God and that that it "put God in a box." He Read Nietzsche until the
Prophets words began to resonate in his soul with an electric, infernal
power.
All
this time, he had been seeking the Truth with his mind, but the Truth
had eluded him. He fell into a state of despair which he described years
later as a living hell. He felt he did not fit in the modern world,
even his family, who did not understand him. It was as if he had somehow
been born out of place, out of time. He loved to roam under the stars,
but he felt that there was nothing our there to take him in--no God,
nothing.
The Buddhist "nothingness" left him empty, just as it did the
founder of the Beat movement, Jack Kerouac; and, like Kerouac, Father
Seraphim turned to drink. He would drink wine voraciously and then would
pound on the floor, screaming to God to leave him alone. Once while
drunk, he raised his fist to heaven from a mountaintop and cursed God,
daring Him to damn him to Hell. In his despair, it seemed worth being
damned forever by God's wrath, if only he could empirically know that
God exists--rather than remain in a stagnant state of indifference. If
God did damn him to hell, at lest then he would, for that blissful
instant, feel God's touch and know for sure He was reachable
"Atheism,"
Father Seraphim wrote in later years, "true 'existential' atheism,
burning with hatred of a seemingly unjust or unmerciful God is a
spiritual state; it is a real attempt to grapple with the true God Whose
ways are so inexplicable even to the most believing of men, and it has
more than once been known to end in a blinding vision of Him Whom the
real atheist truly seeks. It is Christ Who works in these souls. The
Antichrist is not to be found in the deniers, but in the small
affirmers, whose Christ is only on the lips. Nietzsche, in calling himself Antichrist, proved thereby his intense hunger for Christ..."
In
searching through various ancient religions and traditions, Father
Seraphim once went to visit a Russian Orthodox Church. Later he wrote of
his experience.
"For
years in my studies I was satisfied with being 'above all traditions'
but somehow faithful to them... When I visited an Orthodox Church, it
was only in order to view another 'tradition'. However, when I entered
an Orthodox Church for the first time (a Russian Church in San
Francisco) something happened to me that I had not experienced in any
Buddhist or other Eastern temple; something in my heart said this was
'home,' that all my search was over. I didn't really know what this
meant, because the service was quite strange to me and in a foreign
language. I began to attend Orthodox services more frequently, gradually
learning its language and customs... With my exposure to orthodoxy and
Orthodox people, a new idea began to enter my awareness: that Truth was
not just an abstract idea, sought and known by the mind, but was
something personal--even a Person--sought and loved by the heart. And
that is how I met Christ."
On
becoming Orthodox Father Seraphim continued to despise modern world and
hoped for nothing from it; he wanted only to escape it. He felt no
less, if not more, estranged from the Christianity he had been raised
in, for while that Christianity was at home in the world, his was
radically otherworldly. He had finally found the designation of man's
existence, and it was this: man is meant for another world.
Father
Seraphim's was an ascetic Faith. He wanted a Christianity that
emphasized not earthly consolation and beliefs, but rather heavenly
redemption through suffering on this earth. No other kind rang true to
him who had suffered much. Only a God Who allowed His children to be
perfected for heaven through suffering, and Who Himself set the example
by coming to a life of suffering--only such a God was capable of drawing
the afflicted world to Himself and was worthy to be worshiped by the
highest spiritual faculties of man.
In
his journal, Father Seraphim wrote: "Let us not, who would be
Christians, expect anything else from it than to be crucified. For to be
a Christian is to be crucified, in this time and in any time since
Christ came for the first time. His life is the example--and warning--to
us all. We must be crucified personally, mystically; for through
crucifixion is the only path to resurrection. If we would rise with
Christ, we must first be humbled with Him--even to the ultimate
humiliation, being devoured and spit forth by the uncomprehending world.
"And
we must be crucified outwardly, in the eyes of the world; for Christ's
Kingdom is not of this world, and the world cannot bear it, even in a
single representation of it, even for a single moment. The world can
only accept Antichrist, now or at anytime.
"No
wonder, then, that it is so hard to be Christian--it is not hard it is
impossible. No one can knowingly accept a way of life which, the more
truly it is lived, leads more surely to one's own destruction. And that
is way we constantly rebel, try to make life easier, try to be
half-Christian, try to make the best of both worlds. We must ultimately
choose--our felicity lies in one world or the other, not in both.
"God give is the strength to pursue the path of crucifixion; there is not other way to be Christian."
Before
he had found the truth, Father Seraphim had suffered for the lack of
it. Now, having found it, he suffered for the sake of it. He devoted the
rest of his life to living that truth, and killing himself to give it
to others. Together with a young Russian man, named Gleb Podmosphnesky,
he formed a Brotherhood which practiced the "Do it yourself" philosophy.
They opened a bookstore in San Francisco and began printing a small
magazine called the Orthodox Word by hand on a small letterpress,
translating Ancient Christian texts and bringing Orthodox Literature to
America. Later, to avoid the emptiness of the city, they moved their
printing operation to the wilderness of Northern California, where they
began to live like the ancient desert dwellers, of ancient times. There
was not running water on their forested mountain, no telephone, no
electric lines. They built their buildings themselves out of old lumber
taken from pioneer dwellings and hauled water on their backs up the
mountain. They lived with deer, rabbits, bear, foxes, squirrels, bats,
mountain lions, scorpions, and rattlesnakes.
In
1970 the became monks, thus dying forever to the world. In the
wilderness Father Seraphim's spirit began to soar "The city," he once
said, "is for those who are empty, and it pushes away those who are
filled and allows them to thrive."
Working
by candlelight in his tiny cabin, Father Seraphim created a great
number of original writings and translations of ancient ascetic texts.
In America his writings have so far reached only select circles but in
countries formerly behind the Iron Curtain they have had and
incalculable impact on human lives. During the communist era, Father
Seraphim's writings were secretly translated into Russian and
distributed in the underground press (samizdat) in the form of
typewritten manuscripts. By the time the fall of Communist power in
1991, Father Seraphim was known all over Russia. Today his books are on
sale everywhere in Russia, including book tables in the Metro (subway)
and on the street. The reason that he has made a much greater mark on
Russia that on his homeland is because in Russia people knew how to
suffer. Father Seraphim's message of underground Christianity, of
suffering and persecution in this world for the sake of truth, touches a
responsive chord in people who have already been crucified. In America
people would rather hear the "nice" messages of preachers like Rev.
Robert Schuler (who, by the way, broadcasts his show in Russia, where
people can hardly believe how stupid it is). I met Father Seraphim a
year and a half before his death in 1982. Like him, I had been seeking
reality through Eastern religions, etc., by seeking to escape
pseudo-reality through a Zen-like breakdown of logical thought
processes. Finally, reduced to despair, I listened to Sid Barrett's two
schizophrenic-withdrawal, childhood-regression solo albums over and
over, until I had memorized all his word salads. One day Father Seraphim
came to the campus where I was going to school. He drove up in an old
beat up pick-up truck and emerged in his worn out black robe, his long
hair, and his exceedingly long grey beard which had become matted. I was
the image of absolute poverty. Next thing I remember I was walking with
Father Seraphim through the college. Dinner had just ended and students
were milling and hanging around the outside cafeteria. Everyone was
staring at Father Seraphim, but he walked through them as naturally as
if he had been at home. I the middle of a progressive American college,
he seemed like someone who had just stepped out of the 4th century
Egyptian desert.
Father
Seraphim went to a lecture room and delivered a talk called "Signs of
the Coming of the End of the World." He had happened to be sick at the
same time and sniffled throughout his lecture. Obviously exhausted, he
yet remained clear-headed, cheerful, and ready to answer questions at
length. I could see that he was at least as learned and far more wise
than any of my professors, and yet he was clearly a man of the
wilderness, more at home in the forest than in a classroom.
What
struck me most about Father Seraphim was that here was a man who was
totally sacrificing himself for God, for the truth.
He was not a
university Professor receiving a comfortable salary for being a
disseminator of knowledge, nor was he a religious leader who hankered
after power, influence, or even a bowl of fruit to be placed at his
feet, as did the "spiritual masters" who had followings in that area. He
was not "into religion" for what could he get out of it; he was not
looking for a crutch to "enjoy spiritual life." He was just a simple
monk who sought the Truth above all else. And I knew beyond a shadow of a
doubt that he would die for that Truth, for I could see he was dying
for it already.
-Monk Damascene
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