Although the Holy Fathers praised monasticism as the angelic state, and although many of the greatest saints lived their lives and attained perfection in the deaf and lifeless desert, nevertheless, the Orthodox Church does not recommend tonsuring to all the faithful. “Neither all those in the desert were saved nor all those in the world were lost,” said one saint. To a city dweller who, with no inclination for monasticism, desired to enter the monastery, St. Niphon said: “My child, a place neither saves nor destroys a man, but deeds save or destroy.” For him who does not fulfill all the commandments of the Lord, there is no benefit from a sacred place or from a sacred rank. King Saul lived in the midst of royal luxury and he perished. King David lived in the same kind of luxury and he received a wreath. Lot lived among the lawless Sodomites and he was saved. Judas was numbered among the apostles and he went to Hades. Whoever says that it is impossible to be saved with a wife and children deceives himself. Abraham had a wife and children, three-hundred-eighteen servants and handmaidens, much gold and silver but, nevertheless, he was called the Friend of God. Oh, how many servants of the Church and lovers of the desert have been saved! How many aristocrats and soldiers! How many artisans and field-workers! Be pious and be a lover of men and you will be saved!

— from The Prologue

Within the lives of many throughout the Western world today, there is a significant increase of interest in spiritual life. Many people are seeking a personal experience of the grace of God. They desire a tangible and dynamic experience of His presence within their daily lives. Furthermore, many today are trying to satisfy this inner need through a variety of methods and means.

The recent growth of the various pseudo-Christian cults and other such religious sects bears witness to this shift in attitudes. The steady interest in ‘spirituality’, whether from the Near, Middle or Far East, is also another indication of the spiritual thirst of contemporary man. Another clear manifestation of this inner human need — with completely negative results — is the rising popularity of satanic and occult practices, as well as the neo-pagan rituals and other such ceremonies of New Age religious movements. Add to this the tremendous interest today of anything even remotely connected with the world of psychic phenomena, and the need for communion with God becomes most obvious. At times it seems as if modern man is searching frantically for God.

This widespread search for spiritual life, no matter how flawed or misguided, reveals the fact that an innate desire for participation in divine life is basic to the human being. Indeed, this is exactly the reason why man was created. Life in communion with God is man’s natural orientation. When this spiritual need is not satisfied through conventional means, then its fulfillment is sought elsewhere.

However, a closer look into the spiritual state of the contemporary Western world will reveal a profound paradox. On the one hand, as has already been noted, there is clearly a growing interest in almost anything that has to do with ‘spirituality’ or the spiritual world. Yet on the other hand, there is also such a flagrant disregard for the divine, as well as an obvious coldness toward Christ, that it could be said that the pursuit for true Christian life has been nearly abandoned in our day. It has become socially acceptable — even academically fashionable — not only to disregard, but even to deride and scorn the teaching and ideals that have been revealed to man in the Gospel of Christ. It seems as if modern man is striving to convince himself that he can live in an abiding and persistent renunciation of the commandments of the Lord.

This subtle spiritual decay, which could characterize our generation, has deluded many into assuming that it is perfectly normal, and perhaps even psychologically more beneficial, to lead one’s life apart from God and separated from His will. In particular, commitment to Christ is seen as a relic of an antiquated morality that deprives modern man from his ‘true’ calling toward fulfillment in worldly pleasures and carnal pursuits. He sees as the goal of his existence the search for superfluous comforts and the maintenance of an inordinate level of a life of luxury.

It might be concluded then, that generally speaking, there exists a certain polarization within the spiritual orientation of contemporary Western man. This is manifested in many cases as a tendency toward either one of two extremes. One extreme is the general disinterest in God and neglect of any form of communion with Him. However, when there is such a vacuum and radical spiritual deprivation in the human soul, it naturally leads to the other extreme: to the anxious search for any kind of ‘spiritual experience’.

At the same time, one sees an increasing number of conscientious believers who are finding true inner fulfillment in Orthodox spiritual life. There are many sincere and dedicated faithful who are no longer satisfied with the static state of spiritual life offered by the majority of Western denominations today. They are searching for a different and deeper spiritual life in Christ. This inner search reveals a general discontent with the vast changes prevalent in the church practices, ethical values and traditionally accepted theological teachings of many of these Western Christian confessions. It appears that the thirst in modern man for authentic spiritual life is becoming more difficult to satisfy through the customary means provided.

Some are seeking out the Orthodox Christian truth concerning the salvation of man. They are growing wary and alienated from the juridical and legalistic tendencies of the Western confessions, while becoming more interested in a mystical relationship with Christ. There are those who are coming to appreciate the fact that there exists another Christian teaching that differs from the conventional denominations of the West. More than a few are coming into contact with the living legacy of the Church Fathers and the mystical teaching of the Eastern Christian tradition, which offers a more profound Christ-centered spiritual life. A growing number of believers see the Saints of the Orthodox Church as examples on which to base their own spiritual lives. For these faithful, the Saints and their teachings are the criteria that point toward the true meaning of life and the ultimate direction that they are to follow as they seek to live according to Christ.

The Saints challenge the believer to reach beyond the conception of salvation that predominates in the West. For the Orthodox Church, salvation is more than the pardon of sins and transgressions. It is more than being justified or acquitted for offenses committed against God. According to Orthodox teaching, salvation certainly includes forgiveness and justification, but is by no means limited to them. For the Fathers of the Church salvation is the acquisition of the grace of the Holy Spirit. To be saved is to be sanctified and to participate in the life of God — indeed to ‘become a partaker of divine nature.’¹

Forgiveness of sins is not the end of salvation; it is only the beginning. Salvation leads to mystical knowledge of God and the acquisition of the charisma of love for all mankind. In the words of St. Silouan, “/ began to beseech God for forgiveness, and He granted me not only forgiveness but also the Holy Spirit, and in the Holy Spirit I knew God… the Lord remembered not my sins, and gave me to love people, and my soul longs for the whole world to be saved and dwell in the Kingdom of Heaven, and see the glory of the Lord, and delight in the love of God:’ ²

This is one reason why so many people are attracted to the Orthodox Faith. They are coming to realize that the Saints and the Fathers of the Church give definitive guidance on how to base one’s life in Christ. Through the example of their lives and the testimony of their inspired teachings they embody man’s true spiritual potential. They exemplify the apostolic command: “… but as He who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; since it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy ‘.”³ This is why the Fathers of the Orthodox Church are of such vital significance for believers today.

The Fathers are not historic personalities confined to a bygone era. They are not simply relics of an antiquated past. On the contrary, they live among us. They live within the Church, pouring out the light of the Gospel of Christ. Through the continuous operation of the grace of the Holy Spirit, in synergy with man’s free-will, the Church is preserved throughout history as a living divine-human or ‘theanthropic’ communion. By attaining to the fullness of their calling in Christ, the Saints have overcome the same obstacles that adversely affect the spirit and mentality of our modem world.

The importance of appropriate guidance in spiritual life is immense. In the present day, the need for true Orthodox spiritual teaching is especially crucial in the face of the influx of the numerous pseudo-Christian religious movements that have invaded society. Under the guise of offering a ‘Christian spirituality’, many deceivers today are leading even well-intentioned believers astray from the authentic apostolic message of the Gospel.

This is why it is imperative to provide those who are searching for a more abundant life in Christ with the opportunity of being exposed to and edified by the time-honored teachings of the Church Fathers of the Orthodox East. The Fathers have bequeathed a rich spiritual tradition to the contemporary world. They share the same Holy Tradition dating from the earliest decades of the apostolic Church. The unanimity of their continuous teaching, nearly two thousand years old, attests to the validity and authenticity of Holy Tradition.

There is a growing number of faithful who are becoming aware of the need for this Tradition. They are coming to realize how crucial it is to develop spiritually in its fertile soil. Holy Tradition is both a font and a haven, where one is not only granted spiritual birth, growth and development, but where one also finds shelter and takes refuge from the commotion of the contending ‘spiritualities’ of contemporary times.

The teaching of St. Silouan is especially relevant because it manifests this Tradition to modem society. His life and teaching illustrate the ultimate meaning of man’s salvation in Christ. Based on the personal experience of his own spiritual strivings, his teaching bears testimony to the truth that contemporary man is capable of acquiring the fullness of the grace of the Holy Spirit, through which countless Saints have been saved and sanctified throughout the history of the Church. St. Silouan embodies the heights of Orthodox spiritual life, which he experienced on twentieth-century Mount Athos. He serves as a link in the long line of spiritual tradition that unites modem man with all the great ascetic Saints throughout the centuries of the Orthodox Church.

The life and writings of St. Silouan are becoming increasingly popular among a wide variety of people from many different backgrounds. While many have the impression that the Saints lived ‘saintly’ lives from their youth, St. Silouan shows that this is not always the case. He indulged in many of the same activities and pursuits that could characterize the youth of today. Even if some of these may appear as rather mundane, they are nonetheless among the more notable aspects of his life to which many readers can relate. For instance, it is recorded that in his youth St. Silouan was fond of music, socializing with the opposite sex and even drinking with his friends. In fact he was known for his great tolerance for alcohol, especially vodka.⁴

His good looks and popularity even led him into sin. As Elder Sophrony relates, “Young, strong, handsome, and by this time prosperous, too, Simeon [St. Silouan's name 'in the world'] revelled in life. He was popular in the village, being good-natured, peaceable and jolly, and the village girls looked on him as a man they would like to marry. He himself was attracted to one of them and, before the question of marriage had been put, what so often happens befell late one summer evening.” ⁵ St. Silouan never forgot his sin and he repented greatly for his fall. He prayed fervently for a clear conscience. According to his biographer, while he was away on military service, the young woman fell in love with another man and together they lived happily and raised a large family.⁶

A further incident that highlights St. Silouan’s familiarity with the common experiences of today’s youth concerns his great physical strength. It is reported that during a village celebration, the young Simeon was approached by two brothers. The older one — tall, strong, bad-tempered and drunk — tried to grab away Simeon’s accordion in order to show off in front of the others. St. Silouan himself explains what then happened:

“At first I thought of giving in to the fellow but then I was ashamed of how the girls would laugh at me, so I hit him a hard blow in the chest. His body shot away and he fell backwards with a heavy thud in the middle of the road. Froth and blood trickled from his mouth. The onlookers were all horrified. So was I. ‘I’ve killed him,’ I thought… It was over half an hour before he was able to rise to his feet, and with difficulty they got him home, where he was bad for a couple of months but luckily didn’t die” ⁷ Elder Sophrony concludes, “… this physical strength, which was later to stand him in such good stead in the accomplishment of many exceptional spiritual feats, now led to his committing his gravest sin, which he afterwards so sorely repented” ⁸

These incidents from St. Silouan’s youth, such as the drinking, the romance, his fondness for music, and the brawling — mundane and coarse as they appear — may actually appeal to the general reader. These are things that many people can immediately and intimately identify with in their own personal lives. His life shows that even the common man from the most ordinary of backgrounds, who has tasted the brutal bitterness of sin, can indeed still hope to acquire the grace of the Holy Spirit and attain to holiness in Christ. For many readers today this is a source of great inspiration as they struggle in pursuit of their own salvation.

The broad appeal of the writings of St. Silouan is based on a combination of other factors as well. The fact that he was uneducated and ‘almost illiterate,’⁹ having attended the village school for ‘just two winters,’¹⁰ attracts many readers because it reinforces the idea that the heights of Orthodox spiritual life are open and accessible to all. It illustrates the truth that one does not need a degree in theology to attain to the knowledge of God and to come into communion with Him. His writings reveal that spiritual progress is not a matter of academic endeavors. Rather, it is a matter of the heart, a heart directed toward God. This too appeals to many people.

Even though the writings of St. Silouan touch upon the deepest theological truths, they do not intimidate the average layman. He speaks not in the language of philosophers, but rather in the timeless tongue of the Holy Spirit. This language of love, which flows so freely from his pen, is a potent means of communication that the reader finds easy to comprehend and embrace. This certainly contributes to the popularity of his writings.

From the practical perspective of style and language, the writings of St. Silouan could be compared to the words of Christ, especially as conveyed in the Gospel of St. John¹¹. The Fourth Gospel is remarkable for the way in which it speaks of the mysteries of eternal life and of the unfathomable love of God toward man, while using the simplest words in a most lucid manner. Such stylistic traits could also characterize the writings of St. Silouan. When reading them, one is immediately impressed with his gentle disposition and humble approach to such lofty themes.

The style of his writings could also be compared to the Book of Psalms: “Often his language is like that of the psalms, which is natural since it springs from unceasing prayer. The rhythm is slow, as is characteristic of profound prayer.” ¹² Elder Sophrony, who not only published St. Silouan’s writings in Russian but also translated them himself into Greek, as well as oversaw their publication and translation into a variety of other languages¹³, notes farther, “He used few words, but this, too, is perhaps a proof of his veracity. He used few words but they are capable of penetrating into the heart and regenerating man’s soul. He used few words but one can go on discussing them at length… “¹⁴

However, the growing popularity of St. Silouan is due directly to the relevance of his spiritual teaching for today. It is important to keep in mind the historical setting in which he lived and wrote. The first few decades of the twentieth century were a time of unparalleled change. Having died in 1938 at the age of 72, St. Silouan lived through the tumult and upheaval that were to forever alter the course of history. This was the era encompassing not only the First World War and the Russian Revolution, but also the events leading up to World War Two. Such large-scale destruction and horrific atrocities taking place on european soil were never before seen by human eyes.

This radical change was not limited to the political and social spheres, but also in a philosophic sense, it was indeed the dawn of a new age. From a strictly historical perspective, St. Silouan was a contemporary of Freud (1856-1939), Lenin (1870-1924) and Nietzsche (1844-1900), to name but a few. The blatantly anti-Christian principles that these men stood for, and the ‘intellectual revolution’ they inaugurated, were to contribute directly to the reversal in the spiritual and moral values of modem man. Philosophically speaking, it could be said that man was ‘finally freeing’ himself from the God of the Christians and striving, precariously, toward his self-deification.

Ironic as it seems, while the ‘new humanism’ (i.e., the pseudo-religion of man attempting to forge his own destiny apart from God) was gaining considerable ground at the dawn of the twentieth century, the unique value and inherent dignity of the human person seemed to recede simultaneously into oblivion. The ‘triumph of nihilism’ was looming on the horizon, and together with it the onslaught of its offspring — utter hopelessness and despair.

This was the modem mentality that St. Silouan undoubtedly took into account as he wrote down those God-inspired thoughts that came to him after much prayer. He was addressing a world at war, a war raging not only in the trenches of modem Europe, but also on the battlefield of the human soul.

The message that he attempted to convey during those early decades of the twentieth century is somehow even more relevant now as man ‘progresses’ on through the dawn of the new millennium. Although St. Silouan addresses the particular needs of the turmoil of his time, the fundamental themes he touches upon, such as the infinite love of God toward man, the inner workings of the human soul and the nature of the spiritual struggle, remain relevant for all believers everywhere. In this lies the significance of St. Silouan’s teaching for today.

From Orthodox Spiritual Life According to Saint Silouan the Athonite by Harry Boosalis

Notes

1. See 2 Peter 1. 4.
2. Archimandrite Sophrony, Saint Silouan the Athonite, Essex, 1991, pp. 270-271.
3. 1 Peter 1. 15,16.^RSV.
4. See Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 13.
5. Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 12.
6. See Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 16.
7. Saint Silouan the Athonite, pp. 14-15.
8. Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 14.
9. Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 263.
10. Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 52.
11. Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 266.
12. Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 263.
13. For a complete listing of the various translations of the writings of both St. Silouan and Archimandrite Sophrony, refer to the on-going bibliography compiled by Patrick Stange in Buisson Ardent — Cahiers Saint-Silouane l’Athonite vols. 1, 2, 4 and 5, Pully, 1995, 1996, 1998 and 1999, pp. 51-68, 66-95, 90-93 and 83-85 respectively.
14. Saint Silouan the Athonite, p. 266.

Make the effort to rise from the ground. Remember the good Shepherd who will follow and rescue you. Even though it is two legs or only a lobe of an ear, spring back from the beast that has wounded you.

Remember the mercies of God and how He cures with oil and wine. Do not despair of salvation. Recall your recollection of how it is written in the Scriptures that he who has fallen rises and he who turns away returns; the wounded is healed, the prey of beasts escapes; he who owns his sin is not rejected. The Lord does not desire the death of a sinner but rather that he should turn and live.

Do not despair, like the wicked in the pit of evil. There is a time of endurance, a time of long suffering, a time of healing, a time of correction. Have you stumbled? Arise. Have you sinned? Cease. Do not stand in the company of sinners, but spring away. When you are converted and groan you shall be saved.

Out of labor comes health, out of sweat salvation. Beware lest, from your wish to keep certain obligations, you break the obligations to God which you professed before many witnesses… All are ready to welcome you; all will share your efforts.

Do not sink back. Remember the days of old. There is salvation; there is amendment. Be of good cheer; do not despair. It is not a law condemning to death without pity, but mercy remitting punishment and awaiting improvement. The doors are not yet shut; the Bridegroom hears; sin is not the master.

— St. Basil the Great, from letter 44

It does not depend, therefore, on whether the Psalms express adequately that which we feel at a given moment in our heart. If we are to pray aright, perhaps it is quite necessary that we pray contrary to our own heart. Not what we want to pray is important, but what God wants us to pray. If we were dependent entirely on ourselves, we would probably pray only the fourth petition of the Lord’s Prayer. But God wants it otherwise. The richness of the Word of God ought to determine our prayer, not the poverty of our heart.

— in Psalms: The Prayer Book of the Bible

I won’t try to argue that this story is true, or free from theological difficulties. But it resonates with me and motivates me to continued, joyful repentance.

With the Sign of the Cross, the old monk Abba Joseph trapped in his cell a dark and miserable demon who had come to tempt him.

“Release me, Father, and let me go,” pleaded the demon, “I will not come to tempt you again.”

“I will gladly do that, but on one condition,” replied the monk. “You must sing for me the song that you sang before God’s Throne on high, before your fall.”

The demon responded, “You know I cannot do that; it will cause me cruel torture and suffering. And besides, Father, no human ear can hear its ineffable sweetness and live.”

“Then you will have to remain here in my cell,” said the monk, “and bear with me the full struggle of repentance.”

“Let me go, do not force me to suffer,” pleaded the demon.

“Ah, but then you must sing to me the song you sang on high before your fall with Satan.”

So the dark and miserable demon, seeing that there was no way out, began to sing, haltingly, barely audible at first, groping for words long forgotten. As he sang, the darkness which penetrated and surrounded him began slowly to dissipate. The song grew ever louder and increasingly stronger, and soon the demon was caught up in its sweetness, his voice fully lifted up in worship and praise. Boldly he sang of the power and the honour and the glory of the Triune God on High, Creator of the Universe, Master of Heaven and Earth, of all things visible and invisible. As the song sung on high before all ages resounded in the fullness of its might, a wondrous and glorious light penetrated the venerable Abba’s humble cell, and the walls which had enclosed it were no more. Ineffable love and joy surged into the very depths of the being of the radiant and glorious angel, as he ever so gently stooped down and covered with his wings the lifeless body of the old hermit who had liberated him from the abyss of hell.

via Pithless Thoughts

The person that is struggling to the best of his abilities, who has no desire to live a disorderly life, but who, in the course of the struggle for faith and life, falls and rises again and again, God will never abandon. And if he has the slightest will not to grieve God, he will go to Paradise with his shoes on. The benevolent God will, surprisingly, push him into Paradise. God will insure that he take him at his best, in repentance. He may have to struggle all his life, but God will not abandon him; He will take him at his best possible time.

- Elder Paisios of the Holy Mountain

There was a monk from Rome [probably Abba Arsenius] who lived at Scetis near the church. He had a slave to serve him. The priest, knowing his bad health and the comfort in which he used to live, sent him what he needed of whatever anyone brought to the church. Having lived twenty five years at Scetis, he had acquired the gift of insight and became famous.

One of the great Egyptians heard about him and came to see him, thinking he would find him leading a life of great corporal austerity. He entered and greeted him. They said the prayer and sat down. Now the Egyptian saw he was wearing fine clothing, and that he possessed a bed with both a blanket and a small pillow. He saw that his feet were clean and shod in sandals. Noticing all this, he was shocked, because such a way of life is not usual in that district; much greater austerity is ordinarily the rule.

Now the old man had the gift of insight, and he understood that his visitor was shocked, and so he said to him who served him, “We will celebrate a feast today for the abba’s sake.” There were a few vegetables, and he cooked them and at the appointed hour, they rose and ate. The old man had a little wine also, because of his illness; so they drank some.

When evening came, they recited the twelve psalms and went to sleep. They did the same during the night. On rising at dawn, the Egyptian said to him, “Pray for me,” and he went away without being edified.

When he had gone a short distance, the old man, wishing to edify him, sent someone to bring him back. On his arrival he received him once again with joy and asked him, “Of what country are you?” He said, “Egypt.” “And of what city?” “I am not a city dweller at all.” “And what was your work in the village?” “I was a herdsman.” “Where did you sleep?” He replied, “In the field.” “Did you have anything to lie upon?” He said, “Would I go and put a bed under myself in a field?” “But how did you sleep?” He said, “On the bare ground.” The old man said next, “What was your food in the fields, and what wine did you drink?” He replied, “Is there food and drink in the fields?” “But how did you live?” “I ate dry bread, and, if I found any, green herbs and water.” The old man replied, “Great hardship! Was there a bath house for washing in the village?” He replied, “No, only the river, when we wanted it.”

After the old man had learnt all this and knew of the hardness of his visitor’s former life, he told him his own former way of life when he was in the world, with the intention of helping him. “I, the poor man whom you see, am of the great city of Rome and I was a great man in the palace of the emperor.” When the Egyptian heard the beginning of these words, he was filled with compunction and listened attentively to what the other was saying. He continued, “Then I left the city and came to this desert. I whom you see had great houses and many riches and having despised them I have come to this little cell. I whom you see had beds all of gold with coverings of silk, and in exchange for that, God has given me this little bed and this skin. Moreover, my clothes were the most expensive kind and in their stead I wear these garments of no value. Again, at my table there was much gold and abundance, and instead of that, God has given me this little dish of vegetables and a cup of wine. There were many slaves to serve me, and see how in exchange for that, God troubles this old man to serve me. Instead of the bath house, I throw a little water over my feet and wear sandals because of my weakness. Instead of music and lyres, I say the twelve psalms and the same at night. Instead of the sins I used to commit, I now say my little rule prayer. So then, I beg you, abba, do not be shocked at my weakness.”

Hearing this, the Egyptian came to his senses and said, “Woe to me, for after so much hardship in the world, I have found ease; and what I did not have before, that I now possess. While after so great ease, you have come to humility and poverty.” Greatly edified, he withdrew, and he became his friend and often went to him for help. For he was a man full of discernment and the good fragrance of the Holy Spirit.

•••

After reading the lives and struggles of great ascetics, I am sometimes encouraged to pursue my own repentance with intention; and sometimes saddened that my struggles are so much more pedestrian. My little rule of prayer, and the small inconveniences of a layman’s fasting practice are pretty unimpressive next to the hardships the ascetics of the desert gladly embraced.

This story reminds me of the widow’s mite; she’s praised, not because she gave much, but because she gave all she had. The place to question my self-discipline is not in comparison to anybody else’s performance, but in how much my heart and intention are affected by my own struggle. I’m going to be judged by an infinite standard, Christ Himself, so how I measure up to the saints is less relevant than how much Grace I make room for here and now.

From Archimandrite Sophrony’s On Prayer:

Two seemingly totally incompatible states met together in me… The Lord had granted me the grace of repentance. Yes, it was a grace. The moment despair slackened, prayer cooled off and death would invade my heart. Through repentance, my being expanded until in spirit I touch upon both hell and the Kingdom…

The heart is such a strange thing – well revealed by the great Elder’s writings. To be both in a place of despair and yet in a place of prayer. It is why “technique” has so little place in the spiritual life. There are things we can do, and yet all that we do is and must be in relation to God. God is not an object or any such thing. He cannot be found by technique.

More…

Pride. Pride (Superbia) is the head and root of all sin, both original and actual. It is the endeavour to “be as God”, making self, instead of God, the centre about which the will and desire revolve.

Envy. The sin of Envy (Invidia) differs from that of Pride in that it contains always an element of fear. The proud man is self-sufficient, rejecting with contempt the notion that anybody can be his equal or superior. The envious man is afraid of losing something by the admission of superiority in others, and therefore looks with grudging hatred upon other men’s gifts and good fortune, taking every opportunity to run them down or deprive them of their happiness.

Wrath. The effect of Wrath (Ira) is to blind the judgment and to suffocate the natural feelings and responses, so that a man does not know what he is doing.

Sloth. The sin which in English is called Sloth (Accidia or Akedia) is insidious, and assumes such Protean shapes that it is rather difficult to define. It is not merely idleness of mind and laziness of body: it is that whole poisoning of the will which, beginning with indifference and an attitude “I couldn’t care less,” extends to the deliberate refusal of joy and culminates in morbid introspection and despair. One form of it which appeals very much to some modern minds is that acquiescence in evil and error which readily disguises itself as “Tolerance”; another is that refusal to be moved by the contemplation of the good and beautiful which is known as “Disillusionment,” and sometimes as “Knowledge of the World;” yet another is that withdrawal into an “ivory tower” of Isolation which is the peculiar temptation of the artist and the contemplative, and is popularly called “Escapism.”

Covetousness. Covetousness (Avaritia) is the inordinate love of wealth, and the power that wealth gives, whether it is manifested by miserly hoarding or by lavish spending. It is a peculiarly earth-bound sin, looking to nothing beyond the rewards of this life.

Gluttony. The sin of Gluttony (Gula) is—specifically—an undue attention to the pleasures of the palate, whether by sheer excess in eating and drinking, or by the opposite fault of fastidiousness. More generally, it includes all over-indulgence in bodily comforts—the concentration, whether jovial or fretful, on a high standard of living.

Lust. Lust [Luxuria] is a type of shared sin; at its best, and so long as it remains a sin of incontinence only, there is mutuality in it and exchange: although, in fact, mutual indulgence only serves to push both parties along the road to Hell, it is not, in intention, wholly selfish.

(From A Matter of Eternity: Selections From the Writings of Dorothy L. Sayers)

The parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31) has a long history of teasing Christians into dangerous territory. I suspect that many if not most Christians have more than a little curiosity about life after death. We want to know what happens. We want to know “how things work.” And this parable – at least on its surface – seems to give more indication of “how things work” than almost any other passage in Scripture.

It gives us a geography of sorts: Lazarus is in “Abraham’s bosom” apparently enjoying good things; the rich man is in Hades and in torment; we are told that there is a “great gulf fixed between the two” so that no one can come from Hades to Abraham’s bosom and no one from Abraham’s bosom can go to Hades.

It interests me that many Christians use this parable as a “map” of the after-life, or at least as a story that supports their own “map” of life after death.

More…

Related: Christ the Conqueror of Hell

Part of an excellent series of articles at Glory to God for All Things.

Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.

In the last several posts I have written about the iconic character of reality – the world about us has the character of an icon. I have also noted the iconic character of language and of Scripture. There is much to say about what is meant by such descriptions as well as what it means to see things in an “iconic” manner.

I have made a contrast between what I have termed a literal view of reality and an iconic view of reality. In the literal view, things are things. What you see is what there is. In an iconic view, things point to something beyond themselves – they make present that to which they point.

However, there is much more to this than the mere act of seeing. To see an icon requires that we also be in relationship with that which it represents. Christ is present in His icon but is only made manifest to us because we are in relationship with Him. Thus I have said that to see an icon properly involves its veneration. Veneration is an expression of our relationship with that which is represented.

An important aspect of icons (in the teaching of the Church) is that an icon must be true. We cannot make icons of that which is not true.

I recall a conversation with an elderly iconographer. We were discussing a particular icon of the Russian New Martyrs.

“It is not an icon!” she declared. I remember at the time wondering what she meant. It clearly obeyed all the canons and conventions for an icon – those whom it portrayed were truly martyrs. She drew my attention to the portrayal of those who were pictured carrying out the martyrdoms.

“There is hate in this icon!” She exclaimed. A true icon can never contain hate.

She did not mean that an icon could not portray the martyrdom itself (often a gruesome event). Rather she meant that within the portrayal of the evil-doers, the hatred and anger of the iconographer could be seen. It was, perhaps, a subtle point. But it was a point that was quite vital to this very accomplished iconographer. For veneration and hatred cannot coexist. Hatred will create a distortion which is not healing to the soul but damaging.

The same is true whether we are speaking about seeing the world as icon or reading the Scripture as icon (or encountering another human being as the icon of God). A required element within the experience of iconicity is the purity of our own heart. To read the Scriptures rightly is to encounter the Truth and, in some measure, to be changed in the encounter. There is obviously a dynamic at work. I am not pure in heart (nor are any of us) and my vision is thus always distorted to some extent.

However, what we can bring to every event of seeing is a broken and contrite heart – a heart of repentance. It is also true that our repentance is not pure and our humility is always lacking. But God is merciful. We offer what we can of our heart – and He gives what is lacking. This is the daily struggle of our lives as Christians and the constant and abundant mercy of God.

Evil renders the world opaque. Evil is not made present in things that seek to represent it. Rather, evil is a fracturing of the world – its dissolution in self-love and the drive towards non-being. Thus “art” which seeks to objectify human beings into mere sexual content is not True. It distorts the truth of a person and portrays them in a manner that dissolves reality. When we enter into communion with such “art” we enter into a communion of death – for such “art” only has death as its content.

This, of course, is an extreme example of the distorted efforts at sinful, iconic representation. It could be multiplied across the whole of our experience – for much that surrounds us is marked by such distortion, whether intentional or not.

St. Paul states:

To the pure, all things are pure, but to those who are defiled and unbelieving, nothing is pure; but even their mind and conscience are defiled. They profess to know God, but in works they deny Him, being abominable, disobedient, and disqualified for every good work (Titus 1:15-16).

We are all iconographers – or at least involved with icons – for we live in the world and see it. (Even the “icon-smashers” are involved with icons whether they will acknowledge it or not). We either see icons in the distortion of our impure hearts or we struggle to see the world through the heart of repentance and in the purity which is the gift of God. It is in such purity that we can see another human being and confess from the heart that “this is the image of God.” It is not incorrect to say this of someone even if it is only a theoretical acceptance of a theological given. But such theoretical acceptance is not the same thing as actually seeing God in His image. That requires the long and difficult work of repentance – the struggle towards purity of heart. By His mercies, may we all see God.

The article describes self-discipline as linked to happiness. Of course as Christians our pursuit is not only happiness but holiness. I find it interesting that this secular research about self-discipline echoes themes my spiritual father has been repeating to me in confession for many years.

Penelope Trunk writes:

How to have more self-discipline

For a while I have been fascinated by the research about happiness. Some of my favorite research is from Sonja Lyumbomirsky, psychology professor at University of California Riverside. (She’s great at listing really small things you can do to impact your happiness.) And from Dan Gilbert’s Hedonic Psychology Lab at Harvard. (I follow PhD students from that lab like other people follow favorite quarterbacks.)

But something I’ve noticed in the last year is that most of our happiness is actually dependent on our self-discipline. For example, we are happier if we exercise, but the barriers to getting to the gym are so high that it takes a lot more than missives from the Hedonic Psychology Lab to get us there. Also, Roy Baumeister, professor of psychology at Florida State University, has studied self-esteem for decades, and finds that when it comes to success, self-discipline is much more important than self-esteem.

So I have started tracking my own self-discipline rather than my happiness. And I think that the process is making me happier, because I am teaching myself how to bounce back quickly when my self-discipline falls apart. Here’s what I’ve learned…

More at penelopetrunk.com »

At the time of acute self-consciousness at the birth of adulthood, when the soul is still innocent and open, has not been hardened, and the world is a big apple with possibilities that are seemingly limitless, and relationships can seem to be so perfect and so easily perfect, and the soul has been just awakened to the intense sense of personhood, self-hood, and asks (for the first and sometimes only time in one’s life) the question of who he is and why he’s here, the soul is wide open and seeks to go beyond itself. The person feels deeply and intensely, having not yet learned to block and hide these feelings which later prove too painful, and he longs to share this feeling, this self-awareness, this intensity, this pain with others, and to feel what others feel, especially those who are going through the same thing. Everything is poured out freely, sometimes too freely, and there is no attempt to guard one’s inner world from being trampled on. The child who has never been hit by a car, if he is not told of the dangers, will have no fear of walking into a busy street.

However, when the person gets older, as time passes, the perfect “soul-mate” relationships which began so intensely, like a wondrous blossoming flower, become disappointing because there was nothing higher to hold them together; and the seemingly limitless possibilities which present themselves in youth become smaller, one possibility closing itself off after another once one goes further on a certain path (for each person can only take one path at a time). And then occurs what has formerly been feared and rejected – a layer forms on top of the raw person, a protective coating; and it cannot be helped, for pure vulnerability is too painful. All this explains why the youth of today fear so much to get old, why they will do anything to prevent it. Many young people, even if they have exposed themselves to rottenness in their search for reality and intensity, if they get out of it in time, are still good, innocent kids, because in a backwards and self-contradictory way, they have been striving to preserve innocence.

This also explains why the lyrics of many contemporary musicians, when they are young and first start out, are so poignant and direct, while later lyrics of the same people become increasingly obscure, to the point that those listeners who have practically lived on the earlier songs can get less and less from the later ones.

(An Attempt at an Answer)

At the time of acute self-consciousness and the awareness of the eternal question “Why,” the person must be able to direct that self-awareness and painful yearning to something higher than himself — to God, Who became flesh and suffered as we do. It is not enough to pour this painful yearning out to another person — that may help for a time, but it is not enough for eternity. The human soul seeks perfection, and there is nothing perfect except God. Other human beings, even if they seem perfect at first, always turn out to be imperfect, and that can be a great source of disillusionment to idealistic youth. A human being can be a vehicle to reach the end (God), and almost always such a human being is needed, but that person cannot be seen as an end in himself. However, in our post-modern age, when youth have been denied a knowledge of God, the perfection is usually at first sought in one or (usually) several human beings, or in unworthy lesser vehicles such as wealth, beauty, or fame. Again, one must turn one’s painful feelings of self-knowledge and longing to go outside oneself — to God, for only He has the infinite love to meet them. We know God through this very pain.

“Remembrance of God is pain of heart endured in the spirit of devotion, but he who forgets God becomes self-indulgent and insensitive.”
— Mark the Ascetic

“No one achieved anything without pain of heart.”
— Elders Barsanuphius and John.

The inward pain and intensity experienced in adolescence is not only good, but is even vital for the future development of the soul, its drawing closer to God. It is a moment of truth, and that is why it is so important that these strong feelings – that “all or nothing,” “I won’t settled for second-best” feeling of God-given youthful idealism — be quickly channeled to Him who is not “second-best,” who is the Ultimate. If this would happen, more youth of today would turn to monasticism — which is the “all or nothing” life, not settling for second-best, but giving up everything for a higher end: the Kingdom not of this world. But there must be strength and backbone in young people to keep alive the flame of their idealistic yearning when all kinds of worldly tares attempt to choke out the newly sprouted seeds.

If one channels one’s pain, self-awareness, etc., upwards, there is possibility for endless growth in the spirit. However, if one keeps it flowing on a horizontal level it will lead to stagnation, despair, or “selling out.” Even if one can keep it going, always trying to be intense and real, if there is nothing else than that he will just keep going around in circles, not getting anywhere. Life cannot be imbued with meaning simply by the attempt to live it intensely. Being intense and “having a real emotion” is not the ultimate answer — it is a partial answer, for it is only a means and not an end. The answer — the Truth — is God Who was nailed to the Cross, to whom may the youth of today turn in their pain of heart — so that they will not grow up just into boring worldly adults but into Saints, growing into the likeness of God, and will continue growing not just into middle or old age, but throughout eternity, all the while still preserving their innocence.

All popular attempts not to “sell out” to the jaded “adult” world have failed, because they are still part of the one big “sell out:” the “sell-out” of man to this world, and the abandonment of the radically otherworldly revelation of the Crucified God for the sake of worldly Christianity, false spiritual paths, materialism, hedonism, or nihilism.

“Christ is the only exit from this world. All other exits — sexual rapture, political utopia, economic independence —  are but blind alleys in which rot the corpses of the many who have tried them.”
— Fr. Seraphim Rose

The Lord respected Abel and his offering, but He did not respect Cain and his sacrifices. So Cain was extremely sorrowful, and his countenance fell. So the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you extremely sorrowful? And why has your face fallen? Did you not sin, even though you brought it rightly, but did not divide it rightly? Be still; his recourse shall be to you; and you shall rule over him.”

Now Cain talked with Abel his brother and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother and killed him. Then God said to Cain, “Where is Abel your brother?” He replied, “I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?”

Thus God said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood cries out to Me from the ground. So now you are cursed from from the earth, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. When you till the ground, it shall no longer yield its strength to you. You will be groaning and trembling on the earth.”

Then Cain said to the Lord, “My guilt is too great to be forgiven! Surely You have driven me out this day from the face of the ground; I shall be hidden from Your face; I shall be groaning and trembling on the earth. Then it will happen, if anyone finds me, he will kill me.”

So the Lord God said to him, “Not so! Whoever kills Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.” Thus the Lord set a sign on Cain, lest anyone finding him should kill him. Then Cain went out from the presence of the Lord and dwelt in the land of Nod* opposite Eden.
_______________________________________________
*(“Nod” means “one who wanders away from God”)

I’m impressed with both Cain’s awareness of how he’s broken fellowship with God, and God’s compassion toward him. And there’s the promise God offers Cain that, if he’ll be patient, Abel will come to him and serve him, if he’ll only wait and trust. Repentance and restoration are always available to Cain; but he can’t believe he can be forgiven. So he walks away from reconciliation. Even so, God provides protection for Cain – but he never returns to the mercy that never left him.