Don't be Apathetic about Apatheia

One interesting aspect of philokalic spirituality is what the desert fathers describe as “apatheia”.  It is the fruit of one’s long struggle with the passions through the ascetic life and prayer and is considered a positive state of grace.  Even though the word has its origin in stoic philosophy, in the Eastern Christian spiritual tradition it has nothing to do with stoic apathy, or what might be considered a state of indifference.  “It is a positive state of self-control, or rather, Christ-control or Spirit-control.  It is the stilling of all the passionate thoughts through askesis, purity of heart, and the gift of tears.  It is being anchored and rooted in God, in the peace that passes all understanding” (Coniaris, “Beginners Introduction to the Philokalia, 70).  

Thus, it expresses a kind of deep freedom that only comes through absolute dependence upon God and His grace.  Apatheia is not something one achieves simply through strength of will but rather through such a radical openness to God’s grace and action that a man “no longer lives for himself, but Christ lives in him.”  Also translated as “dispassion”, it has been described as a restoration of the state of our true nature and living in the freedom that is ours as those who have been made sons and daughters of God.  The passions have not been destroyed but rather transformed and ordered towards God and the peace of the kingdom: man by grace exerts a control over the passions and is in charge of himself once again.

Psychologically this is not a suppression or a cutting off of the soul’s powers; not an unhealthy functioning but rather a redirecting of those powers toward the good and the holy.  The dispassionate man is freer to love and give himself in love because he is no longer driven by selfish desire.  We see this in the saints who commonly manifest the glory, the freedom, and the joy of the kingdom.  St. Symeon the New Theologian describes it as a “foretaste of heaven, God’s reward for those who have ‘fought the good fight of faith’” (Coniaris, 74).

This transfiguration of the passions has been captured beautifully by St. John Climacus who wrote: “I have seen impure souls who threw themselves headlong into physical eros to a frenzied degree.  It was their very experience of that eros that led them to interior conversion.  They concentrated their eros (love) on the Lord.  Rising above fear they tried to love God with an insatiable desire.  That is why, when Christ spoke of the woman who had been a sinner, he did not say that she had been afraid, but that she had loved much and had easily been able to surmount love by love” (Coniaris, Philokalia, The Bible of Orthodox Spirituality, 162).  

The rewards of the struggle for apatheia are great and by God’s grace the passions can be turned into virtues.  Anthony Coniaris writes: “pride can become humility; lust can become agape, the sacrificial love that God has for us; anger can become righteous indignation against evil; greed can become generosity; unfaithfulness can become steadfastness; envy can become ‘rejoicing with those who rejoice;‘ sloth can become diligence; sensuality can become spirituality - all of this can be accomplished by God’s grace and our cooperation with His grace through askesis, prayer, and vigilance.

Such a notion is so foreign in contemporary culture that sees and understands freedom as the ability to do whatever one wants and to satisfy one’s desires, even the basest of them without restriction, internal or external.  Therefore, the joy of chaste love is mocked and denigrated because it is rarely experienced or sought.  The bondage that most people in our hyper-sexualized or hyper-sensualized culture experience is so great that the freedom and the increased capacity for love is beyond their conception.  Their true self and personality has become so stunted and immature in its development that it fosters a profound boredom and inner dis-ease that can only be addressed by constantly pushing the boundaries of what is moral and ethical.  This shifting of boundaries gradually and inevitably leads to a disintegration of self and identity.  The depth and the beauty of all that is good and true about the human person is exchanged for the superficial and the banal.  

The fruit of dispassion/apatheia, however, is the restoration and integration of the human person.  Fr. George Florovsky defines it as “a state of spiritual activity, which is acquired only after struggles and ordeals . . . Each person’s ‘I‘ is finally regained, freeing oneself from fatal bondage.  But one can regain oneself only in God.  True ‘impassibility‘ is achieved only in an encounter with the Living God.  The path which leads there is the path of obedience, even of servitude to God, but this servitude engenders true freedom . . . In God the personality is restored and reintegrated in the Holy Spirit” (Coniaris, 166).  

We are desiring beings, which means we experience a certain lack or incompleteness in ourselves; a lack that only God can ultimately satisfy and fulfill.  Apatheia restores our ability not only to see this truth but also the freedom to desire virtue and “redirect the energy of the passions toward loving that which holy and good” (Coniaris, 166).   

Purity of Heart in the Writings of the Philokalia

What is the purpose of the asceticism and repentance that have been described in the previous posts?  Again, it is a question the Fathers often asked of themselves, realizing how easy it is to make these practices ends rather the means to an end.  As with so many things in life we can be investing a lot of energy, working very hard but lose sight of where we are heading or what we are seeking.  In this the spiritual life (as we often make it) can become, strangely enough, analogous to an infatuation.  The word infatuation comes from in-fatuous which means “false light”.  Following a false light is the experience often had by those traveling in the desert at night.  They believe they see a light in the distance and so set out to reach it and find warmth and comfort for themselves.  However, it is actually an optical illusion and more often than not they would travel a great distance, expending much effort, only to realize that what promised light and warmth was nowhere to be found.  

Thus, knowing what our immediate purpose and ultimate end are in the spiritual life is essential and there is no better place to begin than with those who walked the path, the “narrow way,” before us.  In particular, there is a notable conversation on this very subject in the Philokalia.  John Cassian and his fellow monk and friend Germanus travelled from Gaul to Egypt in the 4th century to live with the Eastern monks in the Nile delta in order to bring back the wisdom of the Hesychast tradition to the West.  For nearly 20 years they lived with the monks and hermits in order to observe their way of life and learn from their collective wisdom.  

In the first volume of the Philokalia we find Cassian and Germanus engaged in a discussion with Abba Moses who puts this question to them:

“‘You have given up your country, your families, everything worldly in order to embrace a life in a foreign land among rude and uncultured people like us.  Tell, what was your purpose and what goal did you set before yourselves in doing all this?’  We replied: ‘We did it for the kingdom of heaven.’  In response Abba Moses said: ‘As for the goal, you have answered well; but what is the purpose which we set before us and which we pursue unwaveringly so as to reach the kingdom of heaven?  This you have not told me.’  When we confessed that we did not know, the old man replied: ‘The goal of our profession, as we have said, is the kingdom of God.  Its immediate purpose, however, is purity of heart, for without this we cannot reach our goal.  We should therefore always have this purpose in mind; and, should it ever happen that for a short time our heart turns aside from the direct path, we must bring it back again at once, guiding our lives with reference to our purpose as if it were a carpenter’s rule. . . .If we forget this purpose we cannot avoid frequently stumbling and losing our way, for we will be walking in the dark and straying from the proper path’” (Philokalia, Vol. 1, 95).

Yet, what is this purity of heart of which Abba Moses speaks?  Throughout the Philokalia it is described in various ways but most often the Fathers speak of purity as having God at the center of all of our thoughts, words and actions - having God as our one true desire, our beginning and end.  Anthony Coniaris captures this with great clarity and simplicity: 

“Purity of heart is not, first and foremost, a matter of avoiding all sorts of bad things; it is more so, desiring one supreme good above all.  It is to want one thing, to focus our whole life on that one thing.  What is that one thing?  It is to know God, love HIm, and serve Him with all our mind, heart and soul and strength.  When you are pure of heart, you place all your focus on what God wants of you.  You want to be godly, a person of integrity.  Your deepest desire is for God, not for the approval of people.  Thus, purity of heart means loving all people and having a single supreme purpose and direction, not being double minded and unstable (James 1:8).  Such purity or singleness of heart leads  to illumination which, in turn, leads to glorification and union with God” (Coniaris, “A Beginner’s Introduction to the Philokalia”, 122-123).  

Here we begin to see why purity of heart is so important, why it is the purpose of our asceticism, and something to which we must be entirely and exclusively consecrated.  Alphonse and Rachel Goettmann in their work “Prayer of Jesus, Prayer of the Heart” express it ever so pointedly: 

“To be on the way with a divided will, a small fraction of our energy and a mental hesitation, leads nowhere!  We must break radically with our habits, with our way of being and introduce into ourselves - through a decisive act which shakes our whole nature - a new idea force, a consecration of our energies to Jesus Christ so complete that to live from Him becomes for our heart the only desire, and for our will the only activity in all that we live and do. . . .all life becomes a single adoration.  Behind everything, there is the presence: we must feel it always and everywhere, awaken to its constant, intimate, enveloping nearness, intensely perceive it and commune with it in every moment.  To turn all our emotions toward the presence of Christ is the most intense way of purification for the heart.  Sooner or later ‘the pure in heart will see God,’ will feel Him, touch Him, hear Him, smell Him” (155-156).  

Indeed, the more we are purified the more we shall see.  This is captured in exquisite fashion by St. Maximus the Confessor who wrote in the 7th century: 

“If, according to the words of the Divine Apostle, Christ dwells in our hearts by faith and in Him ‘are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge’, then in our hearts are to be found all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.  And they (these treasures) are revealed to the heart according to the measure of purification of each person by the commandments.  This is the ‘treasure hid in a field’ of your heart, which you have not yet found because of your inaction.  For if you had found it, you would have sold all that you had and bought that field.  But you have abandoned that field and work nearby, where there is nothing but thorns and thistles.  Therefore, the Savior says, ‘Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.’  They will see Him and the treasures that are in Him, when they purify themselves by love and self-mastery; the more they are purified, the more (of God) will they see.”  

Ultimately, the importance of purity of heart lies in our destiny.  “The more of God’s love and mercy we receive, the more we commit ourselves to Him, the more we love Him and serve Him, the more we shall be able to experience His kingdom within us, and the better prepared will our eyes be for the brilliance of heaven” (Coniaris, 132). 

Joyful Sorrow: Compunction and the Gift of Tears in the Philokalia

“Blessed are they that mourn,” our Lord said in the second Beatitude.  But mourn, weep, for what?  Life certainly is filled with its sorrows and losses and often we may be moved to tears.  Yet, how are we to understand our Lord’s teaching and the blessing that comes to those who weep?

This is a question that the Fathers of the Philokalia often asked and through them we discover that such mourning is a spiritual gift and the fruit of true repentance.  In the Christian East, the Greek word for such sorrow is Penthos.  While there is no English equivalent for the word, we can define it as “joyful sorrow”: a sorrow that arises from a broken and contrite heart, an inner sorrow for the sins that one has committed.  However, such tears of compunction, the Fathers tell us, lead to a true and abiding joy.  “‘Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,’ says the psalmist. ‘These tears,’ writes St. John Chrysostom, ‘do not bring sorrow; they bring more joy than all the laughter of the world can gain for you.’ ‘Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting,’ says the psalmist (126:5).  Archim. Sophrony writes, ‘Stemming originally from bitter repentance, weeping develops into tears of rapture with Divine love.  And this is a sign that our prayer is heard and through its action we are led into new imperishable life’” (Coniaris, “Philokalia: Bible of Orthodox Spirituality”, 175).

Such tears of compunction are a gift of God, the fruit of baptismal grace and the renewal of our baptism.  St. John Climacus wrote: “God in His love for mankind gave us tears. . . If God in His mercy had not granted to men this second baptism, then few indeed would be saved. . . When our soul departs from this life, we shall not be accused because we have not worked miracles . . .but we shall all certainly have to account to God because we have not wept unceasingly for our sins.”  

This view of the importance of tears may seem paradoxical, scandalous or simply unnecessary to many in our day.  Yet, such tears are merely the fruit of the grace already acquired in baptism and have been described as “the infallible sign that the heart has been overwhelmed by the love of God . . . These charismatic tears, which are the consummation of repentance are at the same time the first fruits of infinite joy: ‘Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh.’  Tears purify our nature, for repentance is not merely our effort, our anguish, but it is also the resplendent gift of the Holy Spirit, penetrating and transforming our hearts” (Ibid., 173).  

Obsessive guilt or scrupulosity only leads to hopelessness and despair, but true compunction and the cleansing tears that accompany it are a true gift of God meant to lead us back to Him and the embrace of His love.  Indeed it has been described as the most precious thing on earth:

“There is an old legend according to which God said to one of His angels: ‘Go down to earth and bring back the most precious thing in the world.’  One angel brought a drop of blood back from a person who had sacrificed his life to save another: God said, ‘Indeed, O Angel, this is precious in my sight, but it is not the most precious thing in the world.’  Another angel caught the last breath of a nurse who died from a dread disease she contracted in nursing others to health.  God smiled at the angel and said, “Indeed, O Angel, sacrifice in behalf of others is very precious in my sight, but it is not the most precious thing in the world.’  Finally one angel captured and brought a small vial containing the tear of a sinner who had repented and returned to God.  God beamed upon the angel as He said: “Indeed, O Angel, you have brought me the most precious thing in the world - the tear of repentance which opens the gates in heaven.”

Such is what we hear from the Our Lord Himself when he taught, “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance.”  God secretly brings joy and consolation to those who in their heart of hearts are repentant and weep for their sins and all of heaven itself rejoices over the return of even one who was lost. 

Understanding the Passions according to the Philokalia: Healing of the Soul and through the Science of the Fathers

Now that we have spoken a bit about asceticism and its goal, theosis or deification, it is appropriate I think to address the specifics of that path of conversion and transformation.  What is it that we must do on our part and with the grace of God on the path of return - to restore the image that has been sullied by our sin and to open ourselves up to the gift of becoming partakers of the divine nature made possible through Christ?  

Alphonse and Rachel Goettmann, in their wonderful book “Prayer of Jesus, Prayer of the Heart” describe this path beautifully; with an understanding arising from and obviously rooted in personal experience. It is perhaps the clearest description that I have come across and since the book is out of print I offer you the following lengthy excerpt:

“Rediscovering that which unifies us, rediscovering our first innocence leads us to become one with God to such an extent that there is no longer the consciousness within us of a differentiated self, distinct from God.  All that we know then is love, nothing else: the unique desire for the unique desired One which makes life a communion of love with the Creator and with all that He endlessly creates at each moment.

The opposite is our propulsion toward the exterior which kindles the multiplicity of desires and makes of life only hatred and division: ‘We devour ourselves reciprocally like serpents.  The communion of love is replaced by the hidden fear of death, and this death,’ says Maximus the Confessor, ‘is the cause of our turning love into destructive passions.’  The self is so closed in upon itself by this metaphysical anguish that the other, including God, is always, even unconsciously, a potential enemy. 

In a person whose spirit is cut off from God, the soul enters into a radical change of perspective and passes into a state of dualism.  Instead of living through God, of seeing in His light and with His eyes, the soul sees and lives through the self in an autonomous way.  This is a false self, nonbeing, the empirical existence where each act of affirmation of the self increases the dualistic tension between the self and God, between the self and others.  And as the self depends upon things to affirm it, the ditch never ceases to be dug and God Himself becomes an antagonistic and hostile being, a rival.  Little by little all relationships are falsified: with oneself, with others, with God, with the whole of creation.  This ontological denaturation brings to life in us a sort of predisposition to bad faith, where we constantly try to make things other than what they are, so that they serve our appetite for pleasure and power and our arbitrary impulses in every moment.  This is the ‘noisy tumult of the passions’ according to the patristic expression . . . 

Here is the beginning of decay.  Our existence is fractured and we plunge into internal contradictions that can only make us suffer.  A person who persists in walking with a broken leg will only suffer; and every desire comes out of this deep fracture which we carry within and which inevitably brings us to tragedy.  The great significance of true asceticism is found here: in discerning the motives behind our way of being and acting.

Where does my desire come from and where is it going?  That is the ground of asceticism, its primary matter, and the very place of our penitence.  Asceticism is a guardian over every interior and exterior movement.  Nothing is possible - no accomplishment, no happiness, no peace - as long as desire is turned in upon itself, egocentric and greedy!  There is no spiritual way or prayer which can be maintained without battling these passionate desires” (Goettmann, “Prayer of Jesus, Prayer of the Heart,” 120-121).

The Desert Fathers understood the word “passion” to mean all the egocentric desires through which the demon seeks to capture human beings.  These we must know along with their most subtle workings within us if we are to fully engage in the spiritual battle that confronts us.  Such knowledge and the hard won skill of recognizing evil in order to avoid it is so valuable that St. Isaac the Syrian stated: “He who sees his sin is greater than he who resurrects the dead.”  It is through this interior work that the passions are not destroyed but have their energy redirected and reordered toward God - to eternal Life.

The Goettmann’s aptly describe this purification of the passions as a kind of “‘homemade psychoanalysis,’ a therapy which attacks the roots of the illnesses of our being, not only to heal us on a human level, but to heal us for our union with God” (Ibid., 122).  Faith is the point of departure for the Desert Fathers from modern psychology; the goal is to share in the life and intimacy of the Holy Trinity and the Fathers see the full flowering of the personality not simply as a function of human needs and potentials.

This is exactly the approach to and understanding of the writings of the Fathers of the Philokalia presented by Hierotheos Vlachos in his masterful work “Orthodox Psychotherapy: the Science of the Fathers.”  He presents us with much different understanding of the word "Psychotherapy" than we often have in mind.

Psyche, Vlachos reminds us, comes from the Greek and means "soul".  In the Hebrew and Christian tradition the soul is the essence of one's existence.  It represents the whole living being of an individual person.  The soul in this sense is manifested through the body, the mind and other facets of the one's being.  When we speak of "Psychotherapy" then we mean the healing of one's soul.

There are great differences then between modern psychotherapy and Christian psychotherapy.  Contemporary psychotherapy focuses more on the mental and emotional dimensions of a person, thoughts, emotions and feelings; in particular by addressing the disorder and pathology that one may be experiencing in these dimensions.  But most modern psychotherapy does not see itself as facilitating growth of person in their relationship with God; that is, in the realization and expression of divine truth.  It hopes certainly to encourage more efficient living and functioning in the world.  And yet, its values and intentions often reflect those that prevail in the culture at the given time.  For example, modern psychotherapy often seeks to bolster one's capacity to gratify needs and desire and to achieve a sense of autonomous mastery over self and circumstance; that is, self-realization and self-fulfillment.

Christian Psychotherapy seeks liberation from disordered attachments and self-giving surrender to the power and will of God.  The manner in which personal growth and healing take place depend not on self-mastery but upon the grace of God.  The true healer, the Physician, is Jesus.  The root of our illness, the disorder and lack of integration we experience, our sickness of soul, comes from sin.  It is this we seek to remedy in and through our relationship with Jesus Christ (see “Orthodox Psychotherapy, pp 97-118).     

It has been said that the Desert Fathers have provided us with a map of the soul: 

“The passions and temptations which must inevitably beset any Christian were unearthed and described with almost scientific precision.  Pride, vainglory, lust - each passion was isolated and catalogued.  This ‘map’ of the Christian soul was then passed on from one generation of ascetics to another, each generation profiting from the discoveries of the previous ones.  Not only were the passions and temptations which afflict the soul unearthed, however, but a ‘system’ was developed to combat them.  This system was later to become know as ‘hesychasm’ or ‘prayer of the heart’” (Coniaris, “Philokalia: Bible of Orthodox Spirituality”, 148-149).

In future posts, we will consider how the Fathers of the Philokalia came to categorize the principle vices that give rise to these passions, how they manifest themselves and how they are remedied.  The Fathers had no illusions about human nature, its woundedness and through the insights born from their spiritual life we stand to gain a deeper understanding of the human person and the truth that peace of soul can be bought only at the price of a long struggle.

Theosis: Partakers of the Divine Nature

After the most recent post on Asceticism, it is appropriate to consider the goal of such discipline and aim of Philokalic spirituality.  Simply put, it is the attainment of union with God and what the Fathers referred to as theosis or deification.  St. Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain tells us that the Philokalia is the “instrument itself of deification.”  Such a view is shared among contemporary Orthodox Christians: “Thus, the Philokalia, the single most important collection of Orthodox spiritual texts is, in effect, perhaps the best guidebook, next to the Bible, to the means of theosis.  Its purpose is precisely to help us fulfill our calling to theosis or union with God” (Coniaris, “Philokalia: Bible of Orthodox Spirituality”, 132).  

Theosis is the foundation, purpose and goal of life.  This is expressed beautifully in Kenneth Leach’s introduction to Tito Coliander’s work “The Way of the Ascetics”: “Orthodoxy is not primarily a system or a correctness in doctrinal formulations.  Doxa means glory.  Orthodoxy is therefore concerned with ‘right glory,’ and it is therefore rooted in the sense of theology as inseparable from human transformation.  The purpose of theology is nothing less than the transfiguring of human life ‘from glory to glory.’  At the center of Orthodox theology and spirituality is the theme of theosis, deification, the raising of manhood into God.  This is the aim of the liturgy, the Eucharistic celebration which stands at the center of all worship and all life.”  Thus, the “resourcement”, the return to the sources of our faith that was envisioned by Vatican II also and importantly includes rediscovery of the writings of the Philokalia.  Such a rediscovery is important not simply in the quest for Christian unity.  “It is essential if we are to recover that lost sense of the mystical and prayerful character of all theology.  All theology is mystical theology; all theology is social theology.  For it is rooted in ‘the life hidden with Christ in God’ and in the social life of the Holy Trinity. . .the way of the ascetics is not a gloomy, world-denying path; it is a way of doxa, of glory, whose aim is nothing less than our deification” (Colliander, “The Way of the Ascetics, ix-xi).

Sometimes in the busyness of life, which can include a kind of Christian activism, we can lose sight of our dignity and destiny: we can lose sight of the ultimate aim of God for sending his Son into the world to become man.  We must return again and again to the words of the scriptures: “For God has made known to us in all wisdom and insight the mystery of his will, according to His purpose which He set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Christ, things in heaven and things on earth” (Eph. 1:9-10) and “We know that, when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is” (1 John 3:2).  God has created us for Himself and sharing in His life is our glorious destiny - to become, by grace, partakers of the divine nature.  “In other words, the mystery of union between humanity, i.e., all of us and Christ is the ultimate aim of the incarnation, the crucifixion, the resurrection - nay, of creation as a whole.  Thus, union with God is the foundation of the Church and the mystery of the Gospel.  It was this union with God that Christ petitioned the Father to grant in our behalf when He prayed in John 17:21, ‘. . . that they also may be one in us’” (Coniaris, 133).

Theosis is not just a beautiful word and we must not reduce it to a theological concept; rather, it must be allowed to speak to everyday life - to penetrate and illuminate our trials, burdens and struggles.  “Theosis has everything to say to struggling humanity.  It tells us that we have the capacity through the presence of God within us to transcend and overcome any and every difficulty in life, including the greatest of all: death.  Theosis tells us that we are not paupers, or beggars but sons and daughters of God, sharing His glory, partaking of His Nature, destined to inherit His eternal kingdom.  Theosis tells us that we are more than conquerors through Him Who loved us.  Theosis tells us to ‘hang in there’ no matter how hard the struggle or the temptation because God has great things in store for us.  As St. Paul says, ‘I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us’ (Rom. 8:18)” (Coniaris, 137).  

The means to Theosis is the grace of God and all the ways that He provides to draw us close to Him and to share His life with us; the sacraments, repentance, obedience to the commandments, reading the Word of God, faith, hope, love, service of neighbor, constant prayer, and the struggle of sin and temptation.

As we embrace all of these things we come to see the preciousness of the gift of our life and why it is worth living.  “It is worth living because Christ loves you.  It is worth living because Christ died for you and rose again to give you life.  It is worth living because with Christ, life is both eternal and abundant.  But life is worth living, above all because in Christ your destiny is theosis, becoming Christ-like, god by grace.  Therefore, choose Christ and live.  With Christ, life can be lived meaningfully, divinely, royally, victoriously, and eternally” (Coniaris, 145). 

Asceticism and Philokalic Spirituality: The Way of Beauty, Freedom and Love

As mentioned in previous posts, the word asceticism in modern times often has a negative connotation for people and conjures images of extreme mortification that is an affront modern sensibilities.  Even for the faithful Christian, an understanding of asceticism as a way of life and expression of Christian identity may be amorphous at best and such practices may only be embraced episodically and minimally during penitential seasons.  This is a strange state given the fact that asceticism is not solely and exclusively a religious reality but a human one.  To invest oneself in anything of value, indeed to grow in any way physically or intellectually, requires ascesis; that is, it requires an exercise of the faculties of the mind and the regular use of the body.  No one questions or doubts the value of the discipline of study embraced by the academic, the regular and intense training of the athlete, or the long hours of practice of the accomplished musician.  Such asceticism is seen as natural and essential for growth and development.

Part of the value of reading the Philokalia is that it helps us begin to see more clearly the value and importance of ascetic practice as an integral part of our Christian life and   identity.  Christianity in part can be described as the life of ascesis; heeding Christ’s call to die to self and sin and live for God, to order the passions, resist temptations, to strive (agona - struggle) to enter by the narrow gate. St. John Chrysostom said: “we are baptized in order to struggle.” Asceticism is a whole way of life.

Anthony Coniaris has a wonderful chapter on asceticism in his work “Philokalia: The Bible of Orthodox Spirituality.”   He offers much to ponder in the chapter, but what I found most intriguing was how he stresses the ascetical nature of Christian life and spirituality and why we should not see it as a burden but rather a blessing to be fostered.  It is a gift through which we are drawn into the life of our Lord and open ourselves to be, as St. Paul says, transformed by the grace of God and move from glory to glory until the image of Christ comes to perfection in us.  

For example, Coniaris tells us that asceticism is the means to a very precious end: restoring the original beauty of the image of God in which we have all been created.  “Askesis is Philokalia, love for the beauty of God’s darkened image in man which it strives to restore to its original beauty.  Askesis is the struggle to renounce my ego which looks at the world as existing only to satisfy my needs and desires.  Askesis is described by St. Paul as ‘pressing on toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus’ (Phil. 3:14)” (p. 115)

Thus, asceticism in religious practice, is not about developing talents and abilities.  Indeed, it not about the self at all, not an end but a means.  It is the way of love.  “The real aim of the monk’s lives was not asceticism but God Himself, and the way to God was the way of love.  For God is love.  Though they practiced austerity themselves, when they received guests, they received them as if they were Christ, hiding their austerity, and welcoming them with great charity.  Archimandrite Sophrony wrote,  ‘Acquiring . . . love is the ultimate purpose of Christian asceticism. . . The ascetic ideal is to cultivate love for God in man’s mind, heart and soul. . . The Church Fathers keep warning us that if ascetic discipline is devoid of love in the Lord, it turns into a source of depression and pride on account of self-righteousness. “No asceticism deprived of love comes near to God” (Ibid., 125).

While such ascetic practice may seem constraining and limiting what it leads to is a deep and personal liberty; a liberty that many of us perhaps have never really tasted and so have a hard time valuing.  Simply put, ascesis sets us free.  “The body is enslaved by the flesh.  Attached to so many things, the body lusts after many unattainable prizes that ultimately it becomes enslaved.  Askesis helps liberate the body from its compulsions.  If we overeat, askesis seeks to help us overcome that enslavement.  If we continually crave power and approval, askesis seeks to help us grow beyond this craving.  If we are enslaved by lust, askesis seeks to help us shatter its shackles.  Far from being stultifying and burdensome, the true goal of askesis is to set us free in spirit that we may commit ourselves totally to Christ our God. . . .Someone said, “In asceticism there are many thorns, but, oh, what roses!” (Ibid., 125).

This way of asceticism - the way of beauty, love and freedom - is meant for all.  While Philokalic spirituality arises out of monastic life, all alike (monks and laity) are invited to the practice of asceticism.  St. Nikodemus call us: “come and eat the the bread of knowledge and wisdom, and drink the wine which spiritually delights the heart . . .and become inebriated with the truly alert inebriation.  Come all . . .together, lay people and monastics, all of you who seek to find the kingdom of God which is within you, as well as the treasure which is hidden in the field of your heart.  And this is the sweet Christ!” (Ibid., 126)  

For those living in the world, “‘askesis should not be identified with the extreme external disciplines associated with the word ‘ascetic’ - harsh fasts, long vigils, and strict self-denial regarding every earthly blessing.  Rather the essence of askesis involves the struggle in our hearts between good and evil, God and Satan, the Kingdom and the world.  Its goal is the new life in Christ.  Its principles are the teachings of Christ.  Its power is the grace of Christ experienced especially in the Eucharist and personal prayer.  Askesis is for all, not only monastics.  Each Christian is called to be a spiritual athlete who with his whole mind, heart and actions contends, within himself, family, and community for the supreme priority of the Kingdom, believing that all the other necessary things will be given to us as well by God’” (Ibid., 127).  

While each of us has a different station in life depending on our particular vocation, each is called to the perfection of love demanded by and in imitation of our Lord. “There are not two separate spiritualities, one for the monks and another for lay people.  There is only one spirituality for all.  St. John Chrysostom wrote: ‘When Christ orders us to follow the narrow path, he addresses himself to all.  The monastics and lay persons must attain the same heights. . . . they will have the same account to render’” (Ibid., 127). 

The Heart of Philokalic Spirituality: The Jesus Prayer

As we continue our reading of “On Watchfulness and Holiness”, Hesychios emphasizes the importance of prayer to Jesus in the spiritual battle; in particular, the Jesus Prayer.  

“You will not find a greater help than Jesus in all your life, for He alone, as God, knows the deceitful ways of the demons, their subtlety and their guile.”  

The Jesus prayer is at the heart of philokalic spirituality for the simple reason that Jesus must be there.  It is through Him alone that we are redeemed and it through his presence alone that we can overcome the temptations of the demons and be healed of our passions.  And so, Hesychios exhorts us: 

“Let your soul . . . trust in Christ, let it call on Him and never fear; for it fights, not alone, but with the aid of a mighty King, Jesus Christ, Creator of all that is, both bodiless and embodied, visible and invisible.”  

It is with utmost humility and trust that we call upon Christ as both the publican and blind man did in the gospel: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.”  And when we do this, we likewise seek to fulfill the biblical command to “pray without ceasing.”  There is much to be said about this important prayer and we will come back to it repeatedly in future posts.  However, Hesychios begins by telling us that the more we pray it, the more we call upon the name of Jesus, the greater our joy becomes and the more pliable our hearts become in order that they might once again be shaped and formed in accord with His will:  

“The more the rain falls on the earth, the softer it makes it; similarly, Christ’s holy name gladdens the earth of our heart the more we call upon it.” 

We find this echoed in the experiences of the Russian peasant in the spiritual classic “The Way of the Pilgrim” as he immersed himself more and more fully in the practice of the Jesus Prayer.  He came to know the transforming joy and power of the name of Jesus and came to understand what it means to have the Kingdom of God within you:

“When I prayed in my heart, everything around me seemed delightful and marvelous.  The trees, the grass, the birds, the air, the light seemed to be telling me that they existed for man’s sake, that they witnessed to the love of God for man, that all things prayed to God and sang his praise. . .The invocation of the Name of Jesus gladdened my way.  Everybody was kind to me.  If anyone harms me I have only to think, ‘How sweet is the Prayer of Jesus!’ and the injury and the anger alike pass away and I forget it all. . . Sometimes there was such a bubbling up in my heart and a lightness, a freedom, a joy so great that I was transformed and felt in ecstasy.  Sometimes I felt a burning love for Jesus Christ and for the whole divine creation.  Sometimes my tears flowed all on their own in thanksgiving to the Lord who had mercy on me, such a hardened sinner.  Sometimes the sweet warmth of my heart spilled over into all my being, and I felt the presence of the Lord with great emotion.  Sometimes, I felt a powerful and deep joy invoking the name of Jesus Christ, and I understood the meaning of his saying, ‘The Kingdom of God is within you’”(from the Way of the Pilgrim).  

There is both power and presence in the name of Jesus, “the name that is above every name.”  According to Anthony Coniaris, “the name of Jesus alone can fulfill the whole need of the one who prays when it is prayed with faith and with a life that is lived in obedience to Christ” (“Philokalia: the Bible of Orthodox Spirituality, 45).  

It is for these reasons that Hesychios states so firmly: 

“Those who lack experience should know that it is only through the unceasing watchfulness of our intellect (nous) and the constant invocation of Jesus Christ, . . that we, coarse and cloddish in mind and body as we are, can overcome our bodiless and invisible enemies . . .” (Philokalia, Vol 1, 169)

Through the constant invocation of Jesus Christ, Christ is present in the heart and so we are both strengthened and changed.  Perhaps nowhere is this captured more beautifully than in the words of St. John Chrysostom where we are told that through the Jesus Prayer we find both victory in our spiritual battle and unity with our God:

“I implore you, brethren, never to break or despise the rule of this prayer: A Christian when he eats, drinks, walks, sits, travels or does any other thing must continually cry: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.‘  So that the name of the Lord Jesus descending into the depths of the heart, should subdue the serpent ruling over the inner pastures and bring life and salvation to the soul.  He should always live with the name of the Lord Jesus, so that the heart swallows the Lord and the Lord the heart, and the two become one.  And again: do not estrange your heart from God, but abide in Him, and always guard your heart by remembering our Lord Jesus Christ, until the name of the Lord becomes rooted in the heart and it ceases to think anything else.”

One contemporary writer, Fr Theophanes from Kafsokalyvia, Holy Mount Athos, captures the beauty and power of this constant invocation similarly in his work “The Psychological Basis of Mental Prayer in the Heart.”  Fr. Theophanes tells us that we can think of the Jesus Prayer iconographically:

“We might compare this repetitive play to a verbal icon which renders charismatically present him who is portrayed.  This is the mental representation explained in the language of the theology of icons.  Just as demonic mental representations pollute and disorient the person, so the mental representation of the name of Jesus together with all the mental representations which are introduced by the formula being used make joyous and gladden the heart. This has much to do with the person of Jesus. His name is his icon in the intellect of the person praying the Jesus Prayer. His name warms the soul by making Jesus himself present in the soul of the person praying, in the same way that an icon makes him present in that person’s home.”

Such thoughts make it clear that the Fathers and Hesychios are not simply describing a Christian kind of “mantra” in the Jesus Prayer but a great deal more; for while indeed such a prayer repeatedly places certain representations before the intellect and soul, it does so in the context of the faith and life of a Christian and the one invoked is God from God and Light from Light, true God from true God.  Such an invocation brings about not only the deepest healing but through it we are transformed, as St. Paul says, from glory to glory until the two hearts become one; where the estrangement of sin passes away and only an abiding love remains.