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). 

Reading the Philokalia: "Where do we begin?"

In reading about the Philokalia, I have come across a number of wonderful resources.  Among these have been a few articles by Kallistos Ware about the history of the development of the Philokalia.  The most recent article that I have read is entitled “St. Nikodimos and the Philokalia”, one of a series of papers presented at a conference at Cambridge in 2003 and compiled in a book called “Mount Athos, the Sacred Bridge: The Spirituality of the Holy Mountain.”  The aim of the conference was to draw attention to the historic importance, the spirituality, and the religious legacy of the Holy Mountain.  Much of the article is a very thoughtful exploration of the eighteenth century hesychast renaissance that produced the Philokalia and the key figures responsible for this compilation of the writings of the Fathers and those who influenced them.  Ware’s analysis of the overlap between Velichokovsky’s translation program and the contents of the Greek Philokalia is fascinating and alone makes the article worth reading.  Although I have already touched upon some of this history in previous posts, it would definitely be worthwhile to return to the subject in the future.  Beyond this, in the article Ware addresses issues of readership, the scope and content of the Philokalia and the ultimate goal in reading it.  

However, what I found most interesting for the moment was Ware’s response to the question: “In what order should the different treatises in the Philokalia be read?  Where should we begin?”   It is to this question I would like to turn before going back to a discussion of various themes found in the writings as a whole.  Ware states that it is probably not the best plan, so far as the Philokalia is concerned, to read the writings in chronological order from beginning to end.  Rather, he suggests the following sequence “which corresponds in part, although not entirely, to the reading list supplied in a dream to the Russian Pilgrim by his dead starets, and to a similar list given by Fr. Nikon to the English translators of the Philokalia.”  This list includes: (1) Kallistos and Ignatios Xanthopoulos, ‘Century’ (Philokalia 4, 197-295; ET Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart, 164-270), (2) Hesychios, ‘On Watchfulness and Holiness’ (Philokalia 1, 141-73; ET 1, 162-98); (3) Evagrios, ‘On Prayer’ (Philokalia 1, 176-89; ET 1, 55-71); (4) ‘A Discourse on Abba Philimon’ (Philokalia 2, 241-52; ET 2, 344-57); (5) St. Symeon the New Theologian, ‘On Faith’ (Philokalia 5, 73-80; ET 4, 16-24); (6) Gregory of Sinai, ‘On the Signs of Grace and Delusion’; ‘On Stillness’; ‘On Prayer’ (Philokalia 4, 66-88; ET 4, 257-86).  Ware notes that Kadloubovsky and Palmer in their translation “Writings of the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart, open with the same four authors as on the Pilgrim’s list in the same order and add texts from Gregory of Sinai and Symeon the New Theologian.  

Ware does not get into specifics about why this particular grouping may be significant but simply holds it forward as a starting point given the unique nature of the work and its central themes.  He does, however, offer us the following insights: “‘Not a book but a library’: so Kaisarios Daponte described the Philokalia.  It is, however, a library with a specific character and an all-embracing unity.  Although it has much to say about love for our fellow humans and practical compassion, its theme is not social and political action.  Equally its primary subject is not outward asceticism or liturgical prayer.  Its concern is rather with the ‘inner Kingdom’ of the heart, and it shows how this ‘inner Kingdom’ is to be explored through the acquisition of ‘nepsis’ and ‘hesychia’, and through the ceaseless invocation of the Holy Name of Jesus.  It sets before us, as our ultimate raison d’etre, the attainment of self-transcending ‘theosis’, through a union of love whereby we participate in God’s uncreated energies, although not in his essence.  In this way it proclaims both the otherness and the nearness of the eternal; God is beyond and above the entire creation, the greatest mystery of all mysteries, yet he is at the same time everywhere present and fills all things.  Although the Philokalia is neither exhaustive nor systematic, none the less these unifying master themes justify us in speaking of a distinctively ‘philokalic’ spirituality.  The work is indeed exactly what St. Nikodimos of the Holy Mountain claimed it to be: ‘a mystical school of noetic prayer’ (119). 

In the past, I have read the four volumes of the Philokalia and the “Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart” as they became available to me and from beginning to end.  Before moving ahead in my own study, I plan to reread the texts in the order suggested above - - keeping Ware’s insights and the historical realities he unpacks in mind and trusting the guidance given to the Russian Pilgrim.  Perhaps in doing so and with the aid of the Holy Spirit, a clearer understanding of the viewpoint of the late eighteenth century will emerge and the desire of St. Nikodimos, St. Makarios and others to revive the neptic-hesychastic spiritual tradition will be enlivened in my own heart.

Ressourcement and the Philokalia: "The Best Belongs to Everyone"

We are perhaps familiar these days with the term ressourcement as embodying the fundamental call of the Second Vatican Council to “return to the sources” (the scriptures and the Fathers of the Church) that we might be renewed in our understanding and practice of the faith.  It is interesting to note that the emergence of the Philokalia in the 18th century was part of another far reaching and radical program of ressourcement within Orthodox Christianity.  St. Nikodimos and St. Makarios, the compilers of the writings of the Philokalia, were a part of what is called the Kollyvades movement on Mount Athos that according to Kallistos Ware, Bishop of Diokleia, had three primary features.  The first centered on establishing a more faithful observance of the liturgical traditions and practices of the Church, e.g., celebrating Sunday as the day of the Lord Resurrection, not to be supplanted by any other memorial service and, more importantly, Ware notes, advocating the frequent reception of the Holy Eucharist.  The second feature is a patristic renaissance.  It is here that the Kollyvades initiated an ambitious program of publication which included the Philokalia.  Finally, Ware states, they emphasized above all the importance of the patristic teachings on Hesychasm which they believed was the “living heart of the Philokalia” and “gives to its varied contents a single unity.”  

Ware states:

“Such, then, is the cultural context of the Philokalia.  It forms part - a fundamental and primary part - of the Patristic ressourcement that the Kollyvades sought to promote.  The Kollyvades looked upon the Fathers, not simply as an archeological relic from the distant past, but as a living guide for contemporary Christians.  They therefore hoped that the Philokalia would not gather dust on the shelves of scholars, but that it would alter people’s lives.  They meant it to have a supremely practical purpose.  In this connection it is significant that St. Nikodimos and St. Makarios intended the Philokalia to be a book not just for monks but for the laity, not just for specialists but for all Christians. . . .In particular, St. Nikodimos maintains, the Pauline injunction, ‘Pray without ceasing‘ is intended not just for hermits in caves and on mountain-tops but for married Christians with responsibilities for a family, for farmers, merchants and lawyers, even for kings and courtiers living in palaces.‘  It is a universal command.  The best belongs to everyone.”

Quotes from, “The inner unity of the Philokalia and its influence in East and West” by Kallistos Ware.  Edit. Alexander S. Onassis Public Benefit Foundation, Athens 2004