Synopsis of Tonight's Group on The Ascetical Homilies of St. Isaac the Syrian

Synopsis of Tonight’s Group on The Ascetical Homilies of St. Isaac the Syrian - Homily 4 :33-37 and 5:1-3

St. Isaac’s words reveal that communion with God requires remoteness from distraction and a renunciation of whatever disquiets the heart. This is not something reserved for monks alone, though they live it most radically, but it is a law of the Christian life as a whole. For Isaac, the fruits of renunciation are not abstract but very real: tears, compunction, a fountain of sweetness welling up from the heart, light dawning within. These are given not to the distracted soul but to the one who bows like a convict before the Cross, empty-handed and intent upon nothing else. Renunciation is not simply turning away from sin but from every movement that agitates the mind. He calls it a kind of death, both of the outer man in worldly deeds and occupations, and of the inner man in thoughts, passions, and self-will. It is this dying that makes room for the Spirit to raise one into true life.

For the monk, this call is lived in visible and total form: silence, enclosure, vigils, fasting, the cutting away of unnecessary speech and activity. Leaving behind the noise of the world, the monk learns to dwell continually before God. For them Isaac’s words are direct and literal, for one cannot hold onto worldly cares and at the same time enter into the madness of divine love. Stillness is the path by which grace rushes into the heart.

For those living in the world, this teaching does not mean the rejection of responsibilities, but rather the careful discernment of what is indispensable and what is merely disquieting. Isaac himself acknowledges that not all can practice stillness in its fullness, but warns that one should not abandon the path altogether. Instead, there are ways of living the same spirit in daily life: simplicity, which renounces excess possessions, amusements, and chatter that scatter the heart; sobriety of senses, which guards against overindulgence and constant stimulation; interior watchfulness, which makes room for compunction and prayer in the ordinary rhythms of the day; trust in God’s providence, which loosens the grip of anxiety over outcomes. For the layperson, renunciation looks like choosing silence over noise, prayer over distraction, mercy over greed, humility over self-exaltation. In these small dyings the heart is opened to the same fountain of sweetness, even if not in the same intensity as in the solitary monk.

Isaac reminds us that whoever does not voluntarily withdraw from the causes of the passions will be carried away by them in the end. Whether monk or layperson, if the heart is constantly fed on the world’s noise, possessions, and anxieties, it will inevitably be drawn off course. But if one begins to renounce even in small ways, the Spirit quickly comes to give aid, comforting the soul and granting grace. The lesson is clear: every Christian is called to some measure of renunciation, not as loss, but as the doorway to joy and divine consolation. The monk may live it to the depths, but each person in Christ is summoned to taste it in their own measure.