From the early centuries of Christianity comes a spiritually provocative story connected with the Fathers of the Desert. The version told here can be found in a 1992 book written by a friend, Ernest Kurtz, and Katherine Ketcham, and called The Spirituality of Imperfection: Modern Wisdom from Classic Stories.
Abbot Anastasius had a book of very fine parchment, which was worth 20 shekels. It contained both the Old and the New Testaments in full, and Anastasius read from it daily as he meditated.
Once a certain monk came to visit him and, seeing the book, made off with it. The next day, when Anastasius went to his Scripture reading and found it was missing, he knew at once who had taken it. Yet he did not send after him, for fear that the monk might add the sin of perjury to that of theft.
Now the monk went into the city to sell the book. He wanted 18 shekels for it. The buyer said, “Give me the book so that I may find out if it is worth that much money.” With that, he took the book to the holy Anastasius and said, “Father, take a look at this and tell me if you think it is worth as much as 18 shekels.” Anastasius said, “Yes, it is a fine book. And at 18 shekels it is a bargain.”
So the buyer went back to the monk and said, “Here is your money. I showed the book to Father Anastasius and he said it was worth 18 shekels.”
The monk was stunned. “Was that all he said? Did he say nothing else?”
“No, he did not say a word more than that.”
“Well, I have changed my mind and don’t want to sell the book after all.”
Then he went to Anastasius and begged him with many tears to take the book back, but Anastasius said gently, “No, brother, keep it. It is my present to you.”
But the monk said, “If you do not take it back, I shall have no peace.”
After that the monk dwelt with Anastasius for the rest of his life.”
The beauties of this story are many, most of them connected with the spiritual stature of Anastasius. Aware of the theft of his most valuable possession, this saintly man resists the human impulse to anger, indignation, and self-pity. He does not consider himself a victim, but instead looks to the good of the person who has wronged him.
With rare spiritual discernment, the abbot feels concern about the spiritual state of the thief. Instead of pursuing him and accusing him of the misdeed, Anastasius shrinks from putting the monk in a situation where he would almost surely have to lie. That would have the effect of adding another sin on top of the first.
The story turns on the potential book buyer’s decision to consult Anastasius, a quite understandable move, given the abbot’s authority. The reason the latter shows restraint is that he sizes up the situation spiritually, rather than emotionally as most people would.
Anastasius is also a model of detachment. He hangs loose even from his dearest possession, since he values the spiritual welfare of another person as more important than any mere thing. And he loves God enough not to allow the love of material possessions, however holy, to take him away from God. Even though the abbot treasured the book for inspiration and prayer, he is willing to let the monk keep it.
Notice also how the abbot preserves his peace of soul throughout. The average person would be upset by the betrayal of a friend or associate. Not Anastasius, however. He keeps his focus on what is most important – the love of God and his neighbor.
The effect of the abbot’s compassion is to bring about the permanent repentance of the monk. Turning away from his sin, the monk wants to spend the rest of his life with this great-souled person who has taught him so much.
We never do learn explicitly what happens to the book. But do we have to be told, after learning about the compassion of the abbot and the conversion of the monk?
Richard Griffin