Felix was another of those saints who began life with wealth, forsook the money and prestige and their attendant snares, and went off to live as a hermit. Being in Europe rather than the Middle East, Felix fled to forest lands to lead a life away from all but his God and the beauty of creation around him…at least until another seeker, years later, came upon Felix. When that happened, the two of them lived together for a time, engaging in prayers and encouraging one another in their walk with God–until together they realized a calling from God to establish a religious order devoted to redeeming captives (i.e., paying money to gain the release of persons enslaved and then providing them a place to live)! At the outset of that particular ministry, Felix was already 70 years old!

What I find striking is the way in which Butler details Felix’s enthrallment with living as a hermit in the midst of the woods:

In the calm and serenity of this silent retreat, letting others amuse themselves with the airy bubbles of ambition, and enjoy the cheats of fancy, and the flatteries of sense, he (Felix) abandoned himself to the heavenly delights of holy contemplation . . . which fervour, love, and compunction rendered sweeter to him than the joys of theatres.

What an amazing way to describe a saint’s contentment–that it made him more joyous than going to the theater! And yet, when I think of how much I love the theater, how many theatrical experiences have moved me to laughter or to tears, how many times I have found in drama, comedy, or musical a new way to understand the world and my life (and to escape both for a while!)–yes, it IS quite a claim for Felix that his silent retreat should bring him so much fullness, so much texture, so much SOUL. And, when the time was right, Felix could also leave that fastness in his old age, to go and liberate other people!

Something–and someone–to contemplate.