St. Isaac the Syrian's Message - The Wonder of Eternal Love

Abbot Vasileios unequivocally tells us that Isaac's value is in his being a Saint. He had found "something" that he seeks to impart to us and to all: the one thing necessary, the one thing which is true - unique divine Love.  It is this Love that permeates all things.  Whether present to us or hidden it fills the heart with joy.  We may seem to lose it, yet even then it penetrates all.  And sometimes in its loss we see its worth and measurelessness all the more.  

The fundamental uneasiness and existential anxiety that so many experience in the world is due to the fact that they cling to what is false.  Therefore, even when they find and possess it, the void they experience remains.  

To possess what St. Isaac found fills the soul with eternal joy and warmth.  It is only the one who forcibly cast it away the comes to know the torment of his own choosing; an inexplainable isolation.

All worldly wisdom and ideas fall away as inadequate and meaningless and yet we bear within our very nature the image and likeness of that which shapes all things.  We would imprison ourselves in our feeble world views and understanding of ourselves, yet Isaac would draws us where he has gone - into the Eternal that envelopes all things, quenches every thirst and fills all that is empty. 

St. Isaac happens to be learned and well-read (he lost his sight from reading so much).  But he does not offer us undigested information or worldly wisdom.  His value lies elsewhere: He is a saint.  A brother of the God-bearers - whether learned or uneducated - who have found the secret of life and impart it to us.

The sister in the monastery of Tabennesi, the fool for Christ referred to in the Lausiac History had found "something".

Abba Isaac has found "something".

The one had no need of any attentiveness, understanding or respect.  She had her unique divine Love (eros) which gave her light, life and inner warmth.

And the other, Abba Isaac, has illumined everything with the unique grace which he has found and penetrates everything.

When you find the one thing, you find everything.  And when you lose it, you are not without it.  It is everywhere.  It penetrates everything.

You enjoy it better when you lose it.  Because in the lack of it you experience the measurelessness of its grace.  You appreciate its worth.  You see it from a different angle.

As for what is false, even when you possess it, it eludes you, it torments you.   Even when you possess it, it leave you in the void.

That which is true has many meanings, with endless application and ramification.

You possess it, and you possess everything.  You love everyone.  You truly rejoice in every joy.

You lose it and it appears before you and within you, imperishable.

You deny it, and it does not deny you.  You send it away and it comes to you.

You compel it to go and it goes (this i the ultimate courtesy).  And you suffer on your own.

One has felt that which Abba Isaac experienced and has lost it through his negligence, "only he knows to what misery he has been abandoned."

The content of Abba Isaac's message is that one thing which is true.

It is not bound to corruption.  "It blows where it will."  It becomes familiar to strangers.  It finds those who are far away.  "And there is none who can hide from its warmth."  All things belong to it.

It goes right through the prison of systems.  It pushes aside the false disguise of ideologies and finds the complete human being where he actually is.  It has something to tell him, regardless of whether he belongs to this or that camp, ideology or world view.  Our view and beliefs cannot alter "that which is within our nature", which is what Abba Isaac addresses.

He was accepted in the East and in the West.  He created an entire school and tradition for his own region and for Syriac speaking Christians (despite all the negative reactions that the boldness of his holiness provoked.  Through the Ethiopian translation he entered Africa.  He was translated into Greek and found a place as the doyen of hesychasm.  He influenced St. Symeon the New Theologian, Niketas Stethatos, Gregory Palamas.  St. Nikodemos calls him "my spiritual philosopher."

From the Greek text he passed to the Slav world, and was read avidly by the Russians of the last century.

The Elder Ieronymos of Aegina (+1966) recommends anyone who has no money to go out into the streets and beg in order to collect money for basic needs and get a copy of Abba Isaac.

The waters of his river rise utterly pure from a deep spring in the desert.  His life was spent in seventh century Syria.  His presence fills history; it has entered into eternity.  The setting for his life is the depths of the desert.  He is a hermit.  His regime is not like even that of monks who live in community.  Yet he lays the foundations for true, Orthodox anthropology.

Here the thirsty quench their thirst, those who have gone hungry eat their fill, the demanding grow quiet.

He does not concern himself with the few things, with the particular.  He speaks of the eternal, the general and inescapable.  And all this interwoven with the small, transitory things that make up the body of our life.

Archimandrite Vasileios

Abbot of Ivernon Monastery, Mount Athos

Abba Issac the Syrian

An Approach to His World

Of Theology and Theologians: The Science of the Saints and the Fruit and Method of Spiritual Healing

I have always been struck by the patristic understanding of the nature of theology.   One of my earlier posts touched upon the necessity of “becoming theology”, stressing the need to assimilate the words and teaching of the scriptures and the fathers so that our very beings express their truth.  Here, however, I would like to expand upon this notion and address more directly how the Fathers understood the idea of theology itself.  In the glossary of the first volume of the Philokalia we are told that theology “denotes . . .more than the learning about God and religious doctrine acquired through academic study.  It signifies active and conscious participation in or perception of the realities of the divine world. . .  . To be a theologian in the full sense, therefore, presupposes the attainment of the state of stillness and dispassion,  . . . of pure undistracted prayer and so requires gifts bestowed on but extremely few persons.”  The present day idea of schools of theology where one pursues a degree abstracted from the absolute necessity of spiritual formation and the active pursuit of the life of holiness would have been completely foreign to the Fathers.  The study of the patristic texts and particularly those of the hesychast Fathers of the Philokalia reveals that theology is both a fruit and a method of spiritual healing through which one is brought into communion with God.

To enlarge on what has been said we do well to look to the teaching of the Holy Fathers relating to theology and theologians.  Bishop Hierotheos Vlachos in his work “Orthodox Psychotherapy” shows through the Fathers’ writings how theology is first and foremost a therapeutic science - principally a science that cures, that heals, the soul.  He writes:

“I think that we should begin with St. Gregory Nazianzen. . . [He] writes that it is not for everyone to theologize, to speak about God, because the subject is not so cheap and low.  This work is not for all men but ‘for those who have been examined and are passed masters in the vision of God and who have previously been purified in soul and body, or at the very least are being purified.’  Only those who have passed from praxis to theoria, from purification to illumination, can speak about God.  And when is this?  ‘It is when we are free from all external defilement or disturbance, and when that which rules within us is not confused with vexations or erring images.’  Therefore the saint advises: ‘For it is necessary to be truly at ease to know God.’

Neilos the Ascetic links theology with prayer . . . : ‘If you are a theologian, you will pray truly.  And if you pray truly, you are a theologian.’

St. John Climacus [writes]: ‘Total purity is the foundation for theology.’  ‘When a man’s senses are perfectly united to God, then what God has said is somehow mysteriously clarified.  But where there is no union of this kind, then it is extremely difficult to speak about God.’  On the contrary, the man who does not actually know God speaks about Him only in ‘probabilities’.  Indeed, according to patristic teaching it is very bad to speak in conjectures about God, because it leads a person to delusion.  This saint knows how ‘ the theology of demons’ develops in us.  In vainglorious hearts which have not previously been purified by the operation of the Holy Spirit, the unclean demons ‘give us lessons in the interpretation of scripture’.  Therefore a slave of passion should not ‘dabble in theology.’  

The saints lived a theology ‘written by the Spirit’.  We find the same teaching in the works of St. Maximus the Confessor.  When a person lives by practical philosophy, which is repentance and cleansing from passions, ‘he advances in moral understanding.’  When he experiences theoria, ‘he advances in spiritual knowledge.’  In the first case he can discriminate between virtues and vices; the second case, theoria, ‘leads the participant to the inner qualities of incorporeal and corporeal things.’

It must be emphasized that a theology that is not the result of purification, that is, of ‘praxis’, is demonic.  According to St. Maximus, ‘knowledge without praxis is the demons’ theology.’ 

In the teaching of St. Gregory Palamas it is those who see God who are properly theologians, and theology is theoria.  ‘For there is a knowledge about God and His doctrines, a theoria which we call theology. . . .’  Anyone who without knowledge and experience of matters of faith offers teaching about them ‘according to his own reasonings, trying with words to show the Good that transcends all words, has plainly lost all sense.’  And in his folly ‘he has become an enemy of God.’  

Thus, Vlachos tells us, theology is not abstract knowledge or practice, like logic, mathematics, astronomy, or chemistry . . .  .  A theologian who is not acquainted with the methods of the enemy nor with perfection in Christ is not only unable to struggle against the enemy for his own perfection, but is also in no position to guide or heal others.”  

 

In the Heart of the Desert: Continuing Reflections on How to Read the Fathers

Before looking at the writings of the desert Fathers or looking at specific themes that emerge in “philokalic” spirituality, I have thought it important to spend a great deal of time considering how to understand their lives more deeply and how to approach their writings.  Today I want to consider how NOT to read the Fathers.  Again, I am following the thought of Seraphim Rose, (August 13, 1934 - September 2, 1982), an American hieromonk of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia who co-founded the St. Herman of Alaska Monastery in California.  His thought about the matter is challenging and direct - not only about the seriousness and sobriety that we must have in approaching the study of the Fathers but of the necessity of overcoming the habits of “light-mindedness”, of “not taking seriously enough even the most solemn subjects,” and of “playing with ideas”, into which we often fall. 

The first pitfall that Seraphim Rose speaks of is “dilettantism”; that is, having an interest in a subject but no real commitment to it.  This can be true of the spiritual life in general or of reading the desert Fathers.  We may be “dabblers” - engaging in a study, or in certain spiritual activities or ascetic practices, but having no serious intentions or experiential knowledge.  We do ourselves and others an injustice when we study or speak of the Fathers as if it can be separated from right faith and practice.  Studying the Fathers can become the latest intellectual fashion whereby we are trying to enrich our own and others “spirituality”.  It is a kind of corrupt spiritual attitude that we often fall into that believes we can study these writings while being removed from the experience of the living in the Church of Christ -  of lacking the reality to which the Fathers writings point.  One might approach the Fathers to broaden one’s mind but lack purity of faith and so fall into deception.  What I find striking about Rose’s thought here is that he sees the cause of this pathological attitude not simply relativism but rather something deeply rooted in “the whole personality and way of life of most ‘Christians’ today.  It is not just the ‘casualness’ of contemporary life, but “indicates a whole modern attitude toward the Church and her theology and practice.”  

The second pitfall that Seraphim Rose speaks of is doing “Theology with a Cigarette” - the tendency we have at times of mixing the sacred and the frivolous.  This is true in the spiritual life in general today.  In what way are we prepared to celebrate the Holy Eucharist, for example, if we are constantly celebrating in the spirit of the world and immersed in its frivolous entertainments - or worse yet immersed in those things that are contrary to spirit of the Gospel.  Rose states: “Such a person brings the worldly spirit with him, worldliness is the very air he breathes. . . .; If such a person were to begin reading the Fathers, which speak of a totally different way of life, he would either find them totally irrelevant to his own way of life, or else would be required to distort their teaching in order to make it applicable to his way of life.”  The loss of moral and spiritual authority in the Church today is “doubtless itself the product of the poverty, the lack of seriousness, of contemporary life.”  Priest, theologian, and faithful have become worldly.  The Fathers, Rose goes on to  say, are often studied and discussed in an “artificial hothouse atmosphere in which, no matter what might be said concerning exalted . . truth or experiences, by the very context in which it is said and by virtue of the worldly orientation of both speaker and listener, it cannot strike to the depths of the soul and produce the profound commitment” it should.  We often fail to examine our hearts in this fashion when approaching our faith and spiritual tradition and we also fail, according to Rose, to face squarely a painful but necessary truth: “a person who is is seriously reading the Holy Fathers and who is struggling according to his strength (even if on a very primitive level) to lead a . . spiritual life - must be out of step with the times, must be a stranger to the atmosphere of contemporary ‘religious’ movements and discussions, must be consciously striving to lead a life quite different from that reflected” in many spiritual books and conferences.  

The third and final pitfall Seraphim Rose describes using a quote from St. Paul - “zeal not according to knowledge” (Rom 10:2).  There are contemporary movements that, while catching a glimpse of the fire of truth faith, in their worldliness lead people into “something more like a feverish sectarianism.”  Beyond this, Rose describes a more subtle form of zeal not according to knowledge - high idealism.  This is inspired by the lives and asceticism of the desert Fathers but it is not “tempered by actual experience of the difficulties of the spiritual struggle, and by the humility born of this struggle if it is genuine.  Without this tempering it will lose contact with the reality of spiritual life and be made fruitless by an impossible dream of a perfect life pictured vividly and alluringly in his imagination.”  Developing with this is a “critical attitude applied to whatever does not measure up to the [person’s] impossibly high standard.”  In the end, this leads to disillusionment and a waning of one’s initial enthusiasm.  The one-sidedness of their approach to the Fathers and the spiritual life is revealed.  They lack an “emphasis or total awareness of the pain of heart which must accompany spiritual struggle.”  

All of these things, Seraphim Rose tells us, are “hints as to the many ways in which it is possible to approach the Holy Fathers wrongly.”  The study of the Fathers is not to be ‘undertaken lightly, according to any of the intellectual [or spiritual fashions] of our times. . .   .The reading of the Holy Fathers is, indeed, an indispensable thing for one who values his salvation and wishes to work it out with fear and trembling . . .”

***All quotes taken from an article by Seraphim Rose entitled: “How Not to Read the Fathers” and can be found online at orthodoxinfo.com.

Becoming Theology

"How beautiful it is for a man to become theology!" As I have been preparing a group where we will be discussing the Philokalia here at the Oratory, I came across an article by Archimandrite Vasileios on how to study and communicate the words of the Fathers of the Church. They are wonderful words but make one tremble:

"Communication of the patristic word, the word of the Holy Fathers, is not a matter of applying their sayings to this or that topic with the help of a concordance. It is a process whereby nourishment is taken up by living organisms, assimilated by them and turned into blood, life and strength. And, subsequently, it means passing on the joy and proclaiming this miracle through the very fact of being brought to life, an experience we apprehend in a way that defies doubt or discussion. Thus the living patristic word is not conveyed mechanically, nor preserved archaeologically, nor approached through excursions into history. It is conveyed whole, full of life, as it passes from generation to generation through living organisms, altering them, creating "fathers" who make it their personal word, a new possession, a miracle, a wealth which increases as it is given away. This is the unchanging change wrought by the power that changes corruption into incorruption. It is the motionless perpetual motion of the word of God, and its ever-living immutability. Every day the word seems different and new, and is the same. This is the mystery of life which has entered deep into our dead nature and raises it up from within, breaking the bars of Hell. Offering the words of the Fathers to others means that I myself live; that I am changed by them. And so my metabolism has the power to change them, so that they can be eaten and drunk by the person to whom I am offering them. This change of the word within man, and the change in himself resulting from it, preserve unchanged the mystery of personal and unrepeatable life which is "patristically" taught and given. It is like the food a mother eats: it nourishes her and keeps her alive, and at the same time becomes within her mother's milk, the drink of life for the stomach of her baby.How beautiful it is for a man to become theology. Then whatever he does, and above all what he does spontaneously, since only what is spontaneous is true, bears witness and speaks of the fact that the Son and Word of God was incarnate, that He was made man through the Holy Spirit and the ever-virgin Mary. It speaks silently about the ineffable mysteries which have been revealed in the last times.This theological life and witness is a blessing which sweetens man's life. It is a food which is cut up and given to others; a drink poured out and offered in abundance for man to consume and quench his thirst. In this state one does not talk about life, one gives it. One feeds the hungry and gives drink to the thirsty. 
      Our words are often flabby and weak. For the word to he passed on and to give life, it has to be made flesh. When, along with your word, you give your flesh and blood to others, only then do your words mean something. Words without flesh, which do not spring from life and do not share out our flesh which is broken and our blood which is shed, mean nothing. This is why, at the Last Supper, the Lord summarized the mystery of His preaching by saying: "Take, eat My Body," "Drink My Blood."Fortunate is the man who is broken in pieces and offered to others, who is poured out and given to others to drink. When his time of trial comes, he will not be afraid. He will have nothing to fear. He will already have understood that, in the celebration of love, 'by grace man is broken and not divided, eaten and never consumed. By grace he has become Christ, and so his life gives food and drink to his brother. That is to say, he nourishes the other's very existence and makes it grow."