Monday Morning Meditation - July: A 'month-long spiritual desert'

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Unless we find ourselves on an exciting vacation somewhere far from home, it seems that nothing can conceivably be more uneventful than a Monday morning in mid-July. The only “variety” offered seems to be found in the weather. Will it rain or will the sun shine? Will the blistering heat continue, or will we feel some relief?

At this point in the summer, we may have already been on vacation – which means that there isn’t much to look forward to—or we are awaiting an upcoming trip that at least fills us with some sense of anticipation and “escape.” Which poses a further question: are those carefully-planned vacations into which we invest so much time, energy, money – and even hope – always as rewarding, relaxing and renewing as anticipated? I suppose that can only be assessed once we have returned – hopefully as intact as when we departed!

Whatever the case may be, the following passage from the Scriptures may just inspire us to see beyond the tedium that leads to the forgetfulness of God: 

“Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather healed” (Heb 12:12-13).

Adding to our spiritual ennui is, admittedly, the fact that July is the most uneventful month of the year liturgically: no major fasts or feasts occur during this month. Basically, there is “only” the Liturgy on Sundays and the commemoration of a few well-known saints throughout the month. (And we will celebrate the Liturgy for the Prophet Elijah and St. Mary Magdalene later in the month - the 20th and 22nd). With vacationing parishioners, there can be a noticeable drop in church attendance. There may also be certain signs of “spiritual laziness” setting in (induced, perhaps, in part by the haziness of the weather) leading to that condition of spiritual torpor known in our spiritual literature as akedia = "lack of care" or "listlessness." 

July, therefore, is something of a month-long stretch of desert, for we celebrated the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul at the end of June and await the major Feasts of the Transfiguration and Dormition in August within the context of the two-week fast from August 1-14.

Of course, we never want to find ourselves saying that there is “only” the Liturgy on Sunday mornings. The word “only” is hopelessly inadequate when applied to the Lord’s Day celebration of the Eucharist! 

“Only” implies “uneventful.” Yet, every Liturgy is the actualization of the Paschal Mystery of the Death and Resurrection of Christ, and our participation in that mystery. And every Liturgy is simultaneously the actualization of the Pentecostal mystery of the sanctifying presence of the Holy Spirit: "Send down Thy Holy Spirit upon us and upon these gifts here offered." 

At every Liturgy we proclaim and bless the presence and power of the Kingdom of Heaven. We are praying to and praising the Holy Trinity together with the angels and the saints. We are in direct communion with God and one another in the Liturgy. This means that every Liturgy is “eventful” in a manner that we can barely comprehend!

If, indeed, the summer proves to be something of a spiritual drought, then we can only thank God for the weekly liturgical cycle that begins and culminates with the Divine Liturgy on the Lord’s Day so that we can recover and renew our genuine humanity that has been created, redeemed and transformed “in Christ.” 

To speak of our life “in Christ” on the communal level we believe that at every Liturgy, we anticipate the messianic banquet where and when “many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 8:11). The heavenly manna, or the “Bread from heaven” that we receive by the grace of God, strengthens us in the somewhat outward and inward “desert-like” conditions of the world around or within us.

On a more interior level, we may one day make the wonderful discovery that we need not travel far away geographically in order to embark upon a life-transforming journey. In the Prologue to his book The Orthodox Way, Metropolitan Kallistos Ware relates the following anecdote.

“One of the best known of the Desert Fathers of the fourth-century Egypt, Saint Sarapion the Sidonite, traveled once on pilgrimage to Rome. Here he was told of a celebrated recluse, a woman who lives always in one small room, never going out. Skeptical about her way of life – for he was himself a great wanderer – Sarapion called on her and asked: ‘Why are you sitting here?’ To this she replied: ‘I am not sitting, I am on a journey'.”

Admittedly, this will not work well with the children! But at one point in our lives, we need desperately to make that discovery of our interior depths wherein we find a point of stillness that will further still our excessive restlessness that endlessly pushes us “outward” rather than “inward.” In one of my favorite sentences in The Orthodox Way, Metropolitan Kallistos puts it this way: 

“We are on a journey through the inward space of the heart, a journey not measured by the hours of our watch or the days of the calendar, for it is a journey out of time into eternity.”

“Vacations” are one thing, and “journeys” (or pilgrimages) another. The packaging and planning of the former make them much more predictable that the limitless possibilities of the latter. So, as we plan our outward vacations by plane or car, we need make provisions for the interior journeys into the greater space of our hearts through “faith, hope and love,” as well as through the practices of prayer and fasting, so as to remain attentive to the “still voice of God” that gives direction and meaning to our lives. Be that as it may, we pray that God will bless us on both forms of travel!

July: A “month-long spiritual desert”

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

Unless we find ourselves on an exciting vacation somewhere far from home, it seems that nothing can conceivably be more uneventful than a Monday morning in mid-July.  The only “variety” offered seems to be found in the weather.  Will it rain or will the sun shine?  Will the blistering heat continue, or will we feel some relief? 

At this point in the summer, we may have already been on vacation – which means that there isn’t much to look forward to—or we are awaiting an upcoming trip that at least fills us with some sense of anticipation and “escape.”  Which poses a further question:  are those carefully-planned vacations into which we invest so much time, energy, money – and even hope – always as rewarding, relaxing and renewing as anticipated?  I suppose that can only be assessed once we have returned – hopefully as intact as when we departed!  

Whatever the case may be, the following passage from the Scriptures may just inspire us to see beyond the tedium that leads to the forgetfulness of God:  

“Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather healed” (Heb 12:12-13).

Adding to our spiritual ennui is, admittedly, the fact that July is the most uneventful month of the year liturgically:  no major fasts or feasts occur during this month.  Basically, there is “only” the Liturgy on Sundays and the commemoration of a few well-known saints throughout the month.  With vacationing parishioners, there can be a noticeable drop in church attendance.  There may also be certain signs of “spiritual laziness” setting in (induced, perhaps, in part by the haziness of the weather) leading to that condition of spiritual torpor known in our spiritual literature as akedia.  

July, therefore, is something of a month-long stretch of desert, for we celebrated the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul at the end of June and await the major Feasts of the Transfiguration and Dormition in August within the context of the two-week fast from August 1-14.

Of course, we never want to find ourselves saying that there is “only” the Liturgy on Sunday mornings.  The word “only” is hopelessly inadequate when applied to the Lord’s Day celebration of the Eucharist!  

“Only” implies “uneventful.”  Yet, every Liturgy is the actualization of the Paschal Mystery of the Death and Resurrection of Christ, and our participation in that mystery.  And every Liturgy is simultaneously the actualization of the Pentecostal mystery of the sanctifying presence of the Holy Spirit: "Send down Thy Holy Spirit upon us and upon these gifts here offered."  

At every Liturgy we proclaim and bless the presence and power of the Kingdom of Heaven.  We are praying to and praising the Holy Trinity together with the angels and the saints.  We are in direct communion with God and one another in the Liturgy.  This means that every Liturgy is “eventful” in a manner that we can barely comprehend!

If, indeed, the summer proves to be something of a spiritual drought, then we can only thank God for the weekly liturgical cycle that begins and culminates with the Divine Liturgy on the Lord’s Day so that we can recover and renew our genuine humanity that has been created, redeemed and transformed “in Christ.”  

To speak of our life “in Christ” on the communal level we believe that at every Liturgy, we anticipate the messianic banquet where and when “many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 8:11).  The heavenly manna, or the “Bread from heaven” that we receive by the grace of God, strengthens us in the somewhat outward and inward “desert-like” conditions of the world around or within us.

On a more interior level, we may one day make the wonderful discovery that we need not travel far away geographically in order to embark upon a life-transforming journey.  In the Prologue to his book The Orthodox Way, Metropolitan Kallistos Ware relates the following anecdote.

“One of the best known of the Desert Fathers of the fourth-century Egypt, Saint Sarapion the Sidonite, traveled once on pilgrimage to Rome.  Here he was told of a celebrated recluse, a woman who lives always in one small room, never going out.  Skeptical about her way of life – for he was himself a great wanderer – Sarapion called on her and asked:  ‘Why are you sitting here?’  To this she replied: ‘I am not sitting, I am on a journey'.”

Admittedly, this will not work well with the children.  But at one point in our lives, we need desperately to make that discovery of our interior depths wherein we find a point of stillness that will further still our excessive restlessness that endlessly pushes us “outward” rather than “inward.”  In one of my favorite sentences in The Orthodox Way, Metropolitan Kallistos puts it this way:  

“We are on a journey through the inward space of the heart, a journey not measured by the hours of our watch or the days of the calendar, for it is a journey out of time into eternity.”

“Vacations” are one thing, and “journeys” (or pilgrimages) another.  The packaging and planning of the former make them much more predictable that the limitless possibilities of the latter. So, as we plan our outward vacations by plane or car, we need make provisions for the interior journeys into the greater space of our hearts through “faith, hope and love,” as well as through the practices of prayer and fasting, so as to remain attentive to the “still voice of God” that gives direction and meaning to our lives.  Be that as it may, we pray that God will bless us on both forms of travel!

The Threefold Path of Ascent to God

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

According to our ecclesiastical calendar, every year on January 17 – this past Sunday most currently - we commemorate one of the truly extraordinary saints of the Church; and one whose impact on the Church’s historical and spiritual development can hardly be over-estimated. And that would be St. Anthony the Great (+356) who is universally proclaimed as the “Father of monasticism.”

St. Anthony withdrew from the world to seek the Kingdom of God with an intensity and focus that was humanly speaking, practically “impossible,” but as the Lord said, “with God all things are possible” (MATT. 19:26).  He was inspired toward this act of radical withdrawal when he heard the words of the Lord in church one Sunday: “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me” (MATT. 19:21).  After many years of prayer, fasting and vigil in the desert — during which he had to battle countless demons — St. Anthony learned that whatever he “accomplished” in the ascetic life was made possible by the grace of God. His Life became one of the most widely-read and influential books of the Church in late antiquity, the reading of which was instrumental in the spiritual development of Blessed Augustine of Hippo (+430); and has maintained its powerful attraction to this day. Perhaps the fact that it was written by St. Athanasius the Great (+373) has a great deal to do with that.

Some of St. Anthony’s most memorable “sayings” have been recorded and thus preserved throughout the centuries, so that his ancient wisdom can guide us to this day, whether we are married, celibate or a monastic. In the Alphabetical Collection of the Sayings of the Desert Fathers, we hear his voice reaching to us from the 4th c. desert of Egypt with a timeless wisdom:

“This is the great work of a man: always to take blame for his own sins before God and to expect temptation to his last breath.” (4)

If that produces a sense of discouragement or anxiety, St. Anthony further taught the “positive” side of this insight:

“Whoever has not experienced temptation cannot enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.” He even added: “Without temptation no-one can be saved.” (5)

He also said, “Our life and our death is with our neighbor. If we gain our brother, we have gained God, but if we scandalize our brother, we have sinned against Christ.” (9)

The desert became the arena of the spiritual struggle of ascending toward God. In fact, there eventually emerged over time a “threefold path of ascent” that profoundly outlined the course of outward action and inner activity that would lead a human person toward God. This is usually attributed to Evagrios of Pontus, whose works survive under the name of Neilos the Solitary. He has been called the great “psychologist of the desert” based on his insights into the working of the spirit in fighting off temptation and drawing closer to God in prayer.

At this point, I would like to introduce the work of one of my excellent students from my recently-completed Fall semester at XU. She had to analyze the threefold path of ascent as handed down from Evagrios in its three aspects of 1) praktiki; 2) physiki; and 3) theologia. Her answers were extremely well-done, and reflected a sound assimilation of the ideas expressed, rather than a simple rote memorization. It is always encouraging to witness quality work at the end of the semester, and I would like to share that with you:

Praktiki: “Praktiki” is the first part of the “Threefold Path of Spiritual Ascent” prescribed by Evagrius of Pontus. It refers to the practice of virtues and the practical application of spirituality in one’s daily life. It involves a constant “warfare against the passions” in order to acquire virtues and purify the heart. This stage of one’s spiritual journey is often referred to as the “active life,” and must begin with repentance, culminating in a purification of the passions. This purification is made manifest and leads to what Evagrius calls “apatheia,” the “gateway to love.” “Apatheia” involves spiritual freedom; in such a state one no longer yields to temptation. 

Physiki: “Physiki” is the second stage of Evagrius’ threefold path. This is referred to as “natural contemplation.” It is important to note that this part of the path does not necessarily follow praktiki; it may occur simultaneously. “Physiki” involves a way of looking at the world that sees it as it truly is; as God made it to be. In this way, it is a way of seeing God through nature, or even seeing nature through God. In turn, one can come to better understand oneself and one’s essence as a human being through contemplating and understanding God’s uncreated energies and how he manifests them in nature. An understanding of the “logos” or “word” is essential to physiki, as it forms the inner essence of all created things.

Theologia: “Theologia” refers to the contemplation of God. Prayer is the primary way to practice such contemplation. The two main types of prayer, liturgical prayer and personal prayer, are both essential to deepening one’s understanding of God. In both types of prayer, one’s goal should be to achieve “hesychia,” (inner stillness) or undistracted prayer. Liturgical prayer is a communal experience in which people gather to pray in communion with one another, usually engaging in oral, or spoken prayer. Personal prayer involves private contemplation and meditation. There are many different ways to pray. One type of prayer that is especially popular in the Orthodox Church is monologic prayer, which involves focusing one’s prayer on a single word or phrase.

Well-done indeed!  This is an essential part of our Tradition that all Orthodox Christians need to be aware of.

But now comes the truly hard part: Doing our utmost to put such a profound teaching into the practice of our daily lives at least on a level that would lift us up ever so slightly toward God!