The wilderness has been the refuge of spiritual seekers for thousands of years, and it is the Christian monastic tradition that shares the powerful insight that the hermit is never truly alone. Indeed, he is isolated from the rest of humanity in order to be alone with the One.
I am not generally a fan of “reality TV” because, having worked for a time with a small video production company I know what goes on behind the camera. It is easy to forget that what seems to be real on the television has been filmed by a crew with at least one cameraman, a sound technician, producer, director, and a couple of extra logistics gofers. The “reality” was always staged. It was performed for an audience.
Not quite so with Netflix’s series Alone. Ten survivalist experts are dropped off in a remote wilderness area, far enough apart to ensure that they will not come in contact with one another. The process begins in mid-to-late autumn—thus adding time pressure to the survival experience, as the approaching winter causes temperatures to drop and food to become scarce.
Each contestant selects 10 items of survival gear from a pre-approved list of 40 and is issued a kit of standard equipment, clothing, and first aid/emergency supplies. There is no camera crew. Instead, the contestants are given a set of cameras to document their daily experiences and emotions. Attempting to live in the wild for as long as possible, they must find food, build shelters, and endure deep isolation, physical deprivation, and psychological and emotional stress.
The survivalists may summon a rescue crew at any time using a provided satellite telephone. In addition, medical professionals conduct periodic health checks and may, at their discretion, disqualify and evacuate anyone they feel is unable to continue participating safely. The last remaining contestant wins a $500,000 cash prize.
The genius of the show is in the title: The contestants really are alone in the wilderness, and apart from the fascination of seeing them build ingenious shelters, forage for food, fail at fishing, and share in their triumph when their hunting is successful, the show’s focus on genuine isolation and solitude is what drew my attention.
I couldn’t help but compare their ordeal with the deprivations of the desert fathers—those hardy Christians who went out into the Egyptian desert in the fourth century to work out their salvation. The wilderness has been the refuge of spiritual seekers for thousands of years. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, the wilderness experience begins with Adam and Eve being expelled from paradise and continues with Father Abraham setting out into the Arabian desert from the comfort zone of Mesopotamia. Eventually, the desert nomads settle in Egypt, only to be led out once again by Moses to embark on their wilderness wanderings—heading for the promised land.
The tradition continues through Elijah and the prophets down to John the Baptist—the voice crying in the wilderness. It reaches its fulfillment in Jesus, who regularly escapes to the wilderness to pray. It was this wilderness-warrior tradition that was picked up by the desert fathers, carried on by Saint Basil and the first monks of the East, and finally codified by Saint Benedict in the rule that would become the constitution for Western monasticism for one thousand years. The great monasteries of Europe and the Middle East still stand as a witness to the heritage of monastic survivalists.
Whether they were the Irish monks of Skellig Michael in their beehive island cells or the brothers perched on pillars in the desert in Syria, the volcanic plugs of rock of Meteora, or the peninsula of Mount Athos, the monks were the original wilderness warriors.
With this in mind, what was disappointing about Netflix’s Alone series was its own lack of awareness of this great tradition. The program would have been much richer if at least one of the survivalists had been more aware of the spiritual dimension of his quest. I am not suggesting that it should have been a Christian propaganda piece. It would have been satisfactory if the contestants had exhibited any kind of spiritual awareness. It might have been Buddhist or New Age or even pagan or pantheistic, but the spiritual dimension was totally absent.
The absence of the spiritual meant there was a shallowness where there could have been depth. The big prize money became the focus. The lack of spirituality was highlighted by the biggest obstacle for the majority of contestants: the solitude. While they could endure virtual starvation, threats from grizzly bears, freezing temperatures, constant failure, and brutal weather conditions, it was the unrelenting loneliness that turned out to be their greatest challenge. Their musings to camera returned time and again to how much they missed their families. The lack of human emotional support sapped their remaining mental and physical deprivations, and I expect a Carthusian monk would have been able to help them with that. Training to survive solitude in addition to learning how to gather rose hips and eat grubs and bugs might have made the difference.
Being alone was their greatest challenge, and it is the monastic tradition that shares a powerful insight that the hermit is never truly alone. Indeed, he is isolated from the rest of humanity in order to be alone with the One. The hermit seeks solitude to enter into a deeper intimacy with the God who is always present—closer to the hermit than his own breath—and that is not only to survive, but to thrive.
Fr. Dwight Longenecker’s latest book The Way of the Wilderness Warrior uses the hero’s quest as a map to explore monastic spirituality. Read his blog, browse his books and be in touch at dwightlongenecker.com
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