When a Brother Leaves

On St. Ephraim’s Warning and the Responsibility We Bear for One Another

“If you are living with other brethren, do not become the occasion for anyone to withdraw from the brotherhood…”

— St. Ephraim the Syrian

There is a temptation that appears whenever someone leaves a monastery, a parish, a community, or even a friendship. We immediately begin asking what was wrong with him. Why did he leave? Why could he not persevere? Why was he unable to endure?

The fathers would have us ask a different question.

What was wrong with us?

St. Ephraim’s words are terrifying because they shift the focus away from the one who departs and place it squarely upon those who remain. We are told not merely to avoid obvious acts of cruelty. We are told not to become the occasion for another’s withdrawal from the brotherhood.

That should make every monk tremble.

Every departure has its mysteries. Some men leave because they were never called. Some leave because of wounds that existed long before they arrived. Some leave because God is leading them elsewhere. We cannot know the secrets of another heart.

But there are also departures that reveal something about the community itself.

Was there kindness?

Was there patience?

Was there encouragement?

Did the stronger bear the burdens of the weaker?

Did anyone notice when a brother was becoming discouraged?

Did anyone seek him out when he became silent?

Did anyone sit beside him when he was struggling?

Did anyone pray for him with tears?

Or was everyone too occupied with their own salvation to care about his?

The fathers never understood salvation as a private enterprise. The monk next to me is not an obstacle to my holiness. He is part of my responsibility before God.

We often speak of preserving our own vocation. The fathers would ask whether we helped preserve our brother’s.

A community can be perfectly observant and yet fail in love.

The services can be beautiful.

The rule can be strict.

The fasting can be exact.

The theology can be impeccable.

And yet a brother can slowly die of discouragement while everyone congratulates themselves on their fidelity.

The most frightening possibility is that a man leaves while those around him remain convinced that they have done nothing wrong.

St. Ephraim will not allow us such comfort.

When a brother leaves, the first response should not be judgment. It should be repentance.

Not because every departure is our fault.

But because every departure should make us examine our hearts.

Did I strengthen him?

Did I encourage him?

Did I carry his burden?

Did I speak words that wounded when I could have spoken words that healed?

Did I rejoice when he succeeded, or secretly compete with him?

Did I notice his suffering?

Did I care?

A true brotherhood is not simply a group of men living under the same roof. It is a communion of mutual responsibility before God.

The Desert Fathers often speak as though the salvation of one’s brother is inseparable from one’s own salvation. Abba Moses said, “If we are not watchful concerning our neighbor, we cannot be saved.” The saying sounds extreme until we understand what he means. Love is not an ornament added to the spiritual life. Love is the spiritual life.

This is why the departure of a brother should wound a community.

Not because numbers have decreased.

Not because the reputation of the monastery has suffered.

Not because work has become more difficult.

But because someone entrusted to our love could not remain among us.

Perhaps nothing could have changed the outcome.

Perhaps everything possible was done.

But the community that does not examine itself has learned nothing.

The fathers teach us that repentance begins the moment we stop asking, “Who is to blame?” and begin asking, “Lord, what is my part in this?”

The monk who sees his own sins is greater than the monk who sees angels.

The community that examines its own failures in charity is healthier than the community that spends its time analyzing the failures of those who left.

At the Last Judgment, Christ will not ask whether we correctly identified the weaknesses of our brother.

He will ask whether we loved him.

And for some of us, that question may prove far more difficult than we imagine.