Subtraction, not Addition

What St. Unpronouncios has to teach us about STUFF

I got to read at trapeza (meal time in the monastery) again the other day. I always mean to share what we read there, but it’s usually too rich to summarize in this smartass little blog. It’s too rich because it’s simple. I still make things too complex.

Here’s an amalgamated Cliff’s Notes version of many stories: St. Unpronouncios the Ascetic heard the Call at a very young age. He decided to seek out a monastery at his earliest opportunity, and when he told his rich, noble, pagan father of his plans, his dad immediately set about finding him a good pagan wife. On their wedding day, St. Unpronouncios wept bitterly and fled, where a burning eagle eventually guided him to a remote monastery where he became world-renowned for his severe ascetic practices. He lived in a cave for decades, and ate only one crust of bread every ten years or so. When an earthquake diverted the river right into the monastery, he prayed and, as Yoda moving Luke’s X-Wing from the swamp, dropped a mountain in the way of the onrushing flood.

(You can still visit the geologically inexplicable mountain-in-the-river to this day.)

The emperor heard of his exploits and called him to court, where he was found guilty and tortured in increasingly gruesome ways. He was always found to be whole and unharmed the next day, (reassembled and skin glued back on), always singing praises to the Lord, until the emperor, finally exasperated at all the conversions his holiness wrought among his people, had the holy witness beheaded, which is evidently the only way to kill such a saint.

Yeah, that’s a little flippant, but these are all recurring themes. (Imagine listening to detailed stories of saints being flayed alive during meal time. It’s bracing.) I’m not making light of it—quite the opposite, actually.