Heart – Page 4 – St John’s Adult Education

A Sensitive & Loving Heart

As we prepare for the Sunday of Last Judgment, we are presented with another opportunity to more fully commit to the ’change of heart’ (i.e metanoia) of repentance. The reflection below can be a powerful reminder that our real goal is to deepen our reliance on God’s mercy for the ’renewal’ (Romans 12:2) of abandoning false paths and returning to our true home in Him. There we find His mercy is sufficient.

If we’re wondering where to start, perhaps the simplicity and undercurrent of the Jesus Prayer throughout the day is a way to soften our hearts to His healing presence

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me , a sinner

What is the criteria for God’s judgement – Excerpt from homily for Sunday of Last Judgement by Abbot Seraphim Holy Cross Monastery

This is the real criterion of judgment, that we be merciful, as our heavenly Father is merciful (cf. Lk. 6:36). Then Christ will come, and He will recognize us as truly His own. All the Apostles make this clear: as St. Paul says, though I give my body to be burned and have not love, I am nothing (Cf. 1 Cor. 13:2-3); or St. John when he says, If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar (1 Jn. 4:20); or again in St. James, If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding, ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit? (Jam. 2:15-16).

In God’s great condescension and compassion, He identifies Himself with these poor brethren, saying, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me (Mt. 25:40); just as it says in another place, he is not ashamed to call them brethren (Heb. 2:11), having made Himself like unto them, partaking of flesh and blood, living a life on earth in poverty and obscurity, personally undergoing all the vagaries of our mortal existence. Thus, He accepts a good deed done to any person at all as done unto Him; and even a deed as small as providing a cup of cold water He promises will not go unrewarded (cf. Mt. 10:42).

Seeing then that we have such a plentiful field for performing God-pleasing deeds, and that they do not require anything exceptional or impossible from us, but only a sensitive and loving heart, how will we not justly be condemned at the appearing of the God Who is love, if we ourselves are found bereft of that love? If we are thus found, the shame of being near Him, and beholding His face, full of the terrible beauty of holiness, will be more unbearable for us than outer darkness and gnashing of teeth; His presence will burn us hotter than any lake of fire. He does not drive us away out of petty anger, but merely gives us what we ourselves have been preparing our whole life long: for he shall have judgment without mercy that hath shown no mercy (Jam. 2:13).

But what about those who themselves are poor, naked or sick; or those of us who have chosen the monastic life, and no longer have the material things needed to help alleviate our brother’s suffering? Listen to St. Mark the Monk, who says, “you don’t have money, but you do have free will and the will to act.” So let us give of what we do have. Is your brother sick and ailing from some infirmity? Visit him at least with your prayers. Is he imprisoned in the dungeon of despondency? Come to him with a kind, encouraging word. Are his faults naked and exposed to your sight? Clothe him with your good thoughts. Is he a stranger because he offended you in some way? Take him in with your forgiveness. In these ways, anyone can perform the deeds necessary for salvation; and truly, these things are better than material alms, just as the soul is better than the body.

So, let us be sobered by reflection on God’s judgment, but let us not despair of God’s mercy: for mercy rejoiceth against judgment (Jam. 2:13). And it is precisely a heart that is merciful like His that He seeks of us at His judgment. Let us make this our aim in the coming season of fasting; because food does not commend us to God (1 Cor. 8:8), as we hear in today’s epistle. The impending struggle of the Fast is only a means to a higher end, a powerful tool that the Church places in our hand, so that we can harrow the stony ground of our hearts, covered with the tares of self-love, and thus acquire a heart of mercy which in the sight of God is of great price (1 Pet. 3:4). Having achieved this end with God’s help, may we also be found worthy to stand on His right hand at the Last Day, and behold unashamed the face of Jesus Christ when He returns in glory.

The Danger of Judging Others – Father Luke Veronis

How many of us think we’re better than some others? Honestly, how many of us have judged someone else, thinking that we’re not like them because we’re better? We condemn others, while we praise ourselves before God!

Let’s take a moment and really think about why and how we judge others?

Is it because we think others have done something morally wrong that we judge them? Socially wrong? Or maybe because we question their competence in something?
Is it because when we highlight someone else’s weaknesses or failures, we hope that this will make us feel better about ourselves? Or by seeing how others fail, it justifies our own actions and makes us feel OK that we do the same thing?
Or is it simply because we don’t like them! We are much more inclined to judge and condemn someone we don’t like than someone who is a friend, or someone like ourselves

Think about how often we make a mistake, make a poor decision, or consciously sin and turn away from what we know is right, and then justify our behavior – maybe because we’re tired, or maybe because something happened that put us in a bad mood and that’s why we made a poor decision, or simply maybe because we think “we’re human” and everyone does this once in a while. We may act rudely or hurt someone or do something that is clearly against what we believe as Christians, and yet we justify our own actions, while at the same time judging others in a harsh manner for doing exactly the same thing.

Christ is so clear in his famous Sermon on the Mount: “Do not judge others so that you yourself will not be judged. For with the judgment you judge, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.” (Mt 7:1-2)

Think about all the times we judge others, and then apply a different standard of judgment on ourselves.

Our Lord Jesus goes on to say, “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not see the plank in your own eye… You hypocrite. First remove the plank from your own eye!” (Mt 7:3,5) We all have planks we need to focus on, in our own hearts and in our minds.

In the Gospel of John, Christ stated, “Do not judge according to appearances, but judge with righteous judgment” (John 7:24). Yet, who among us dares to believe that we are righteous enough in the eyes of God to judge another?

Of course, maybe some of us, deep down, do think we are good enough or righteous enough to judge others. This is precisely where the Pharisee, in today’s Gospel story, failed before God! Think about how the Gospel described this “righteous” religious leader. He dedicated his life to following God’s law in a very strict manner. He prayed every day. He fasted twice a week. He gave 10% of his wealth to the Temple. He was careful not to fall into the temptation of greed, of adultery, and of injustice. He surely sounds like a very good man. In fact, his life was probably a lot more righteous and religious, in the best sense of the word, than most of us!!!

Imagine if we had such a person in our church today – one who we knew prayed daily, gave generously, fasted each Wednesday and Friday, and avoided the sins of greed, lust and injustice. Wouldn’t we hold this person up as a model Christian?!? I think we would!!!

Yet it’s precisely here that our “model” Christian fails. And it’s a dangerous precipice we all can fall into! This “righteous and religious” man became judgmental. He looks at someone else – someone who many would consider a scoundrel – and he judges him. The other man is a tax-collector, and we know that tax-collectors worked for the enemy collecting taxes, profited by collecting extra money so that they themselves could become rich. They were often greedy and selfish.

Contrast these two people for a moment – a faithful, generous, prayerful, devout, religious man versus a greedy, rich, and selfish scoundrel. How many of us would honestly think it’s OK for the religious man to judge, and basically reject the scoundrel?!?

This is what happens in the Gospel of today. Yet, Jesus rejects the religious man, and welcomes the scoundrel! Imagine that!!! God rejects the religious man because he allowed his good and faithful actions to get to his head. He became proud. He knew all the good he did, and he came to believe that he was good! And from this proud attitude, he began to judge and despise the other. He undermined all his good intentions and deeds by allowing his pride to lead him astray.

Meanwhile, the scoundrel falls on his face and humbly cries out, “God, have mercy on me a sinner.” A simple, yet sincere prayer saves the scoundrel, while the good deeds of the religious man are ruined by his pride.

I’m not sure if it can get any clearer for all of us, how we should never put ourselves in a position to judge and condemn another.

If we want to walk with another, and repent together, challenging our friends to see their own faults and turn from their stray ways as we also acknowledge our own wayward actions, confess our own sins, and repent from them, then this is not an arrogant judgment of the other, but a humble path walking together on a path of healing. Not judging the other but journeying with the other.

Humility and love are the wings that lead to paradise, St. Kosmas Aitolos proclaimed. We must have love for the other, even for those who have made bad choices and fallen away from God. A humble spirit reminds us that we are the ones who need to repent and turn back towards God. We never judge others, but we judge ourselves. No matter how many good things we have done, we realize we are only fulfilling the potential that God has given us. All good is from God, not us. And all glory goes to His Name! This is what keeps us humble.

This Gospel story of the Pharisee and the Tax-Collector marks the beginning of the Triodion Period, the three-week preparation leading up to Clean Monday, the beginning of Great Lent. The Church consciously chose this Gospel story to highlight the spirit with which we should begin Great Lent on March 2^nd. In fact, this Gospel shows us the only spirit that will allow us to journey closer towards God – only with a spirit of humility and love can we go forward. We must cast aside any arrogant spirit within us, reject any temptation to judge and despise others, and not deceive ourselves into trusting our own goodness. “God, have mercy on me a sinner.” This is the spiritual battle we embark on as we begin Great Lent.

And Jesus concluded this story by saying, “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and everyone who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 18:14)

Last Judgment – Father Alexander Schmemann from his book ’Great Lent’

Our Pre-Lenten journey now brings us face to face with something that many of may find uncomfortable: Christ’s parable of the Last Judgment. Our temptation may be to elevate our own judgment(s) above the starkness and clarity that Christ presents to us in this powerful parable.

Certainly, one possibility of why the Church Fathers have placed this in our path at this point is to wake us up to the seriousness and sobriety we need for the journey ahead. It may also be true that this sobriety, this wakefulness, needs to apply itself to our tendencies to dismiss those judgments from our Lord and Savior that we may find difficult to understand or accept.

We are not alone. I think of the Apostle Peter’s response to what he perceived as the unacceptable truth of what would happen to Christ.

From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto his disciples, how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day. Then Peter took him, and began to rebuke him, saying, Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall not be unto thee. But he turned, and said unto Peter, Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art an offence unto me: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men.
Matthew 16: 21 – 23

When we think about the first two weeks of our Pre-Lenten preparation, it is clear what the examples of the Publican and Prodigal have to teach us about repentance. But what do the examples of the Pharisee and the elder son have to teach us about what prevents us from repenting? Are there some common barriers to repentance that these examples illumine and illustrate?

Certainly, most of us would point to the pride of the Pharisee as a barrier that prevented him from the experience of ongoing repentance so essential to our spiritual journeys.

Isn’t an important aspect of this pride the inflation we place on our own judgements of ourselves and of our knowledge of what ’God’s will’ should be in our circumstances? The Pharisee’s judgement that I am not like these others men … these sinners? The elder son’s belief that his judgement of what is just and fair about what should happen to his brother should be the way his Father sees this?

And isn’t it clear that these judgements of the Pharisee and elder son are completely lacking in a fidelity to what Christ has given us as our Great Commandment?

Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
Matthew 22: 36 – 40

Isn’t a way of thinking about the sin and separation between the elder son and his Father, this allegiance we have to our distorted judgements that are devoid of an experience and expression of love? The possibility that our judgements are separating us from the most basic and foundational experience of a communion of Love with our Father and the expression of that Love to our neighbor.

I find this quote very compelling:

“Repentance is the beginning, middle and end of the Christian way of life.”
St. Gregory Palamas

Perhaps, our Church Fathers have prepared us for the Sunday of the Last Judgement by reminding us of how far our own judgements are from those that are inspired by Him. With this in mind, let’s look now at what Father Schemman has to say.

Father Alexander Schemman on the Last Judgement

Christianity is the religion of love. Christ left with his disciples not a doctrine of individual salvation but a new commandment “that you love one another”, and He added: ”By this shall all know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” Love is thus the foundation, the very life of the Church which is, in the words of St. Ignatius of Antioch, the ”unity of faith and love.” Sin is always absence of love, and therefore separation, isolation, war of all against all. The new life given by Christ and conveyed to us by the Church is, first of all, a life of reconciliation, of ”gathering into oneness of those who were dispersed,” the restoration of love broken by sin. But how can we even begin our return to God and our reconciliation with Him if in ourselves we do not return to the unique new commandment of love?

When Christ comes to judge us, what will be the criterion of His judgment? The parable answers: love – not a mere humanitarian concern for abstract justice and the anonymous ”poor,” but concrete and personal love for the human person, any human person, that God makes me encounter in my life.

Christian love is the ”possible impossibility” to see Christ in another man, whoever he is, and who God, in his eternal and mysterious plan, has decided to introduce into my life. .. For indeed, what is love if not the mysterious power which transcends the accidental and the external in the ”other” – his physical appearance, social rank, ethnic origin, intellectual capacity – and reaches the soul, the unique and uniquely personal ”root” of a human being, truly the part of God in him? If God loves every man it is because He alone knows the priceless and absolutely unique treasure, the “soul” or ”person” He gave every man. Christian love then is the participation in that divine knowledge and the gift of that divine love. There is no ”impersonal” love because love is the wonderful discovery of the ”person” in ”man,” of the personal and unique in the common and general. It is the discovery in each man of that which is ”lovable” in him, of that which is from God.

In this respect, Christian love is sometimes the opposite of ”social activism” with which one so often identifies Christianity today. To a “social activist” the object of love is not ”person” but man, an abstract unit of a not less abstract ”humanity.” But for Christianity, man is ”lovable” because he is person. There person is reduce to man; here man is seen only as person. The ”social activist” has no interest for the personal, and easily sacrifices it to the ”common interest.” Christianity may seem to be, and in some way actually is, rather skeptical about that abstract ”humanity,” but it commits a mortal sin against itself each time it gives up its concern and love for the person. Social activism is always ”futuristic” in its approach, it always acts in the name of justice, order, happiness to come, to be achieved. Christianity cares little about that problematic future but puts the whole emphasis on the now – the only decisive time for love. The two attitudes are not mutually exclusive, but they must not be confused. Christian love aims beyond “this world”. It is itself a ray, a manifestation of the Kingdom of God; it transcends and overcomes limitations, all “conditions” of this world because its motivation as well as its goals and consummation is in God.

The parable of the Last Judgment is about Christian love. Not all of us are called to work for ”humanity,” yet each one of us has received the gift and grace of Christ’s love. We know that all men ultimately need this personal love – the recognition in them of their unique soul in which the beauty of the whole creation is reflected in a unique way. We also know that men are in prison and are sick and thirsty and hungry because that personal love has been denied them. And, finally, we know that however narrow and limited the framework of our personal existence, each one of us has been made responsible for a tiny part of the Kingdom of God, made responsible by the very gift of Christ’s love. Thus, on whether or not we have accepted this responsibility , on whether we have loved or refused to love, shall we be judged. For ”inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, you have done it unto Me … ”

Sunday of the Last Judgment – Homily by Archpriest Symeon Lev

We know that Christians should avoid vainglory, conceit, and the tacit expectation of rewards of grace during Lent. However, even the most careful and unceasing self-control does not always lead to the desired results. Protecting oneself from hidden vainglory during Lent is by no means easy. This is where Christian good deeds – when one really takes on human grief – can be of help. After all, when we move away from ourselves by coming into contact with concrete human trouble and misfortune, by sharing in someone’s oppressive grief, our own concerns fade into the background, silent and diminished. One person grieves because of frequent colds, while another dreams of learning to walk without crutches. When we see real grief right in front of us we begin to experience a burning shame not only for our own petty vainglory, but also for our prosperity: just recently we thought it defective and dared complain about our lot.

The Holy Church of Christ insists that we perform good deeds during the time of Great Lent, inasmuch as our acts of mercy not only relieve other people’s plights, making their lives easier and brighter, but they turn the struggler’s attention from himself to others, thereby quietly freeing him from his egotistical self. The wave of love that arises in us when we share in the misfortunes of others fills us with Divine life, animating and inspiring us while driving the passions far away, thereby cleansing us from their harmful and troublesome effects.

Why is the subject of good deeds so tightly interwoven in the Gospel with that of the end of the world and the Second Coming of Christ? After all, it would seem that the call to mercy is not especially inspiring when we are simultaneously being reminded that the earth and all deeds therein shall be consumed.

Icon of the Last Judgment. Seventeenth century.

The fact is that even good deeds, as with all other Christian actions, have their dangers. From the example of the Pharisee and the elder son in the parable of the Prodigal Son we have already seen how religious effort can take on an ungodly character that alienates man from God’s love. The same thing can happen with good deeds. If a Christian immerses himself in them to the point of completely forgetting the primary goal of human existence, then it is unlikely he will do himself any good. Good deeds themselves, if one forgets the memory of death, can acquire the character of an activity that is excited, chaotic, and scattered.

When the Jewish woman poured precious myrrh onto the head of Jesus, certain of the disciples said among themselves: Why was this waste of ointment made? For it might have been sold… and have been given to the poor (Mark 14:4-5). The indignant disciples probably expected the Savior to endorse their feelings. Christ, however, comes to the defense of this “squanderer”: why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on Me. For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but Me ye have not always (Mark 14:6-7).

With these words the Savior warns His followers that the work of keeping oneself in the truth of the Gospel is of utmost importance and, moreover, that this does not yield in importance to Christian good deeds; in some cases it even surpasses them. Indeed, Christ tells us that our eternal fate depends entirely and wholly on deeds of mercy. By including this call to mercy in the general discourse on the Second Coming, however, the Gospel establishes the proportionality and consistency of every part of the Christian activity that makes up our salvation. As such, if we will always have in mind the Second Coming and the Dread Judgment, but all the while become so absorbed in the expectation of the end that we lose sight of concrete deeds of mercy, we will most likely not acquire that love without which no one can see God. Yet if we give ourselves over enthusiastically to deeds of love while forgetting about the fleeting and vain nature of all that takes place on earth and the memory of death, then our good deeds will take on an emotional rather than spiritual character and not bring us any closer to God.

In Ecclesiastes we read: To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven… a time to keep silence… A time to love (3:1-8). A time of silence – a time of solitude and standing noetically before God’s Judgment – is no less essential to Christianity than the active and continuous performance of good deeds. This silence not only returns us from the superficial life around us back to our own depths, but also reminds us of the finite nature of everything that takes place on earth, thereby purifying our love from emotional exaltation.

Therefore, from the publican’s repentance to deeds of love and mercy; from good deeds to the memory of death; and from the memory of death back to repentance and prayer, we must make our journey toward the joyful and bright days of Christ’s Resurrection. The Gospel readings during these preparatory weeks show us the direction we are to follow in our Lenten journey: they are like road signs showing us the way to the Heavenly Jerusalem, to the Lord’s eternal and unceasing Pascha.

Orthodox Saints on Repentance

“Repentance is the beginning, middle and end of the Christian way of life.”
Saint Gregory Palamas
“Always do a metanoia (repentance) when you are wrong. Don’t delay, otherwise the evil one can spread his roots within you.”
Saint Joseph the Hesychast

“To repent is not to look downwards at my own shortcomings, but upwards at God’s Love. It is not to look backwards with self-reproach but forward with trustfulness. It is to see not what I have failed to be, but what by the Grace of Christ I might yet become.”
Saint John Climacus

“Do not be ashamed to turn back and say boldly: I will arise and go to my Father. Arise and go!”
Saint Ephrem the Syrian
“The Lord greatly loves the repenting sinner and mercifully presses him to His bosom: “Where were you, My child? I was waiting a long time for you.” The Lord calls all to Himself with the Voice of the Gospel, and His Voice is heard in all the world: “Come to Me, My sheep. I created you, and I love you. My Love for you brought Me to Earth, and I suffered all things for the sake of your Salvation, and I want you all to know My Love, and to say, like the Apostles on Tabor: Lord, it is good for us to be with You.””
Saint Silouan the Athonite
“There is more mercy in God than there are sins in us. Confess your sins at once, whatever they may be.”
Saint Tikhon of Zadonsk
“Are you wounded? Despair not. Have you fallen? Get up and say bravely: now I have begun. Fall down before your Merciful Master and confess your sins. But before you say anything He will already know what you intend to say. Before you open your lips, He will see what is in your heart. You will not be able to say, “I have sinned” before you see Him stretch forth His hands to receive and embrace you. Approach with faith and He will cleanse you straightaway as He cleansed the leper, lift you from your bed as He lifted the paralytic, and raise you from the dead as He raised Lazarus.”
Saint Ephrem the Syrian
“As every sickness has its treatment, so every sin has repentance.”
Saint Seraphim of Sarov
“We must always remember that we are not condemned for the multitude of our evils, but because we do not want to repent.”
Saint Mark the Ascetic
“Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.”
Saint John the Baptist
“Be ashamed when you sin, don’t be ashamed when you repent. Sin is the wound, repentance is the medicine. Sin is followed by shame; repentance is followed by boldness. Satan has overturned this order and given boldness to sin and shame to repentance.”
Saint John Chrysostom
“Repentance will bring you humility. Humility will bring you the Grace of God. And God will uphold you in His Grace, and will give you whatever you need for your Salvation.”
Saint Paisios the Athonite
“The heart clears with tears and sighs. A sigh with pain of the Soul is equivalent to two buckets of tears…”
Saint Paisios the Athonite
“The Lord calls to Him all sinners; He opens His arms wide, even to the worst among them. Gladly He takes them in His arms, if only they will come to Him.”
Saint Macarius of Optina
“Repentance is a medicine which destroys sin. It is a Heavenly gift.”
Saint John Chrysostom
“The path leading to perfection is long. Pray to God so that He will strengthen you. Patiently accept your falls and, having stood up, immediately run to God, not remaining in that place where you have fallen. Do not despair if you keep falling into your old sins. Many of them are strong because they have received the force of habit. Only with the passage of time and with fervour will they be conquered. Don’t let anything deprive you of hope.”
Saint Nektarios of Aegina
“Confession is a way for man to come to God. It is the offering of the Love of God to man. Nothing and no one is able to deprive us of this Love.”
Saint Porphyrios of Kavsokalyvia
“You must then wash away, by a life of virtue, the dirt which has clung to your heart like plaster, and then your Divine beauty will once again shine forth.”
Saint Gregory of Nyssa
“Every genuine confession humbles the Soul. When it takes the form of thanksgiving, it teaches the Soul that it has been delivered by the Grace of God.”
Saint Maximos the Confessor
“However many and however great and burdensome your sins may be, with God there is greater mercy. Just as His Majesty is, so likewise is His Mercy.”
Saint Tikhon Patriarch of Moscow
“Repentance is the gate of mercy which is opened to all who seek it.”
Saint Isaac the Syrian
“As every sickness has its treatment, so every sin has repentance.”
Saint Seraphim of Sarov
“Repentance is the abandoning of all false paths that have been trodden by men’s feet, and men’s thoughts and desires, and a return to the new path: Christ’s path. But how can a sinful man repent unless he, in his heart, meets with the Lord and knows his own shame? Before little Zacchaeus saw the Lord with his eyes, he met Him in his heart and was ashamed of all his ways.”
Saint Nikolai Velimirovich
“When the air is cleared of clouds, the sun shines brightly; and a Soul freed from its former habits and granted forgiveness has certainly seen the Divine Light.”
Saint John Climacus
Orthodox Saints On Repentance

Key Triodion Quotes / Messages from Sunday of Prodigal Son

In the Matins service for the Sunday of the Prodigal Son, we see how our actions and attitudes have exiled us far from the Love of our Father. We also see how the repentance of the prodigal is received by our merciful Father. The connections between the Prodigal Son, Publican and wise thief are powerful reminders of how crucial it is that we see ourselves with clarity not with a pride that rejects the glory of the Lover of mankind. The pride of how we apply human justice to reject the grace of God seems to be a crucial lesson the elder son has to teach. Our inclination to elevate our judgement above God’s is a common manifestation of pride we see illustrated with the Pharisee last week and now the elder son this week. Perhaps, like me, you can see how my judgements of ‘how it should be’ can separate me from the reality that ’He is everyone present and fillest all things’ … if I have eyes of faith to see.

I have been enslaved to foreign strangers, exiled in the land of corruption, and I am filled with shame. But returning now, O merciful One, I cry to Thee: “I have sinned”.
Utterly beside myself, I have clung insanely to the sins suggested to me by the passions. But do Thou accept me, O Christ, as the Prodigal.
I have wasted in riotous living the riches which the Father hath given me, and am now filled with shame and enslaved to fruitless thoughts. Wherefore I cry unto Thee: “O Lover of mankind be compassionate unto me and save me”.
In hunger I find myself deprived of every blessing, and exiled from Thee O all-good one, be compassionate to me who now return unto Thee, and save me O Christ, who doth praise Thy love for mankind.
Foolishly have I fled from Thy glory, O Father, * in wickedness wasting the wealth that Thou hast given me. * Wherefore with the voice of the Prodigal I cry unto Thee: * “I have sinned before Thee, O compassionate Father. ** Accept me who repent, and make me as one of Thy hired servants”.
Ikos: Every day our Savior doth teach us with His own voice: let us therefore hearken to the Scriptures concerning the Prodigal who once again became wise, and with faith let us emulate the good example of his repentance. With humbleness of heart let us cry out to Him Who knoweth the hidden things of all: “We have sinned against Thee, O compassionate Father, and can never be worthy to be called Thy children as we were before. But since Thou art by nature the Lover of mankind, accept me and make me as one of Thy hired servants”.
Behold, O Christ, the affliction of my heart; behold my turning back; behold my tears, O Savior, and despise me not. But for the sake of Thy compassion embrace me also once again, that, with the multitude of the saved, I may with thanksgiving sing the praises of Thy mercy.
Like the thief I cry to Thee, “Remember me.” and like the Publican, with eyes cast down to earth, I beat my breast saying, “Be merciful.” Like the Prodigal O compassionate One, deliver me from every evil, O King of all, that I may sing the praises of Thy boundless compassion.
O Good One, I have departed far from Thee, * but forsake me not, neither reject me from Thy Kingdom. * The evil enemy hath stripped me and taken all of my wealth; * I have squandered, like the Prodigal, the good gifts given to my soul. * But now I have arisen and returned, and to Thee I cry aloud: * “Make me as one of Thy hired servants. * For, for my sake on the Cross Thou didst stretch out Thy sinless hands, * to snatch me from the evil beast * and to clothe me once again in my first raiment ** for Thou alone art plenteous in mercy.
Ruled by corrupting thoughts, I am full of darkness and separated far from Thee, and have lost all care for myself, O compassionate One. Therefore save me as I fall down before Thee in repentance
Matins Service Sunday of the Prodigal Son

What does the elder son in the Prodigal Son parable have to teach us?

The theme of exile and how it relates to both sons is crucial and often overlooked. Archimandrite Zacharias (Zacharou) in his book ’At the Doors of Holy Lent’ does a powerful deep dive into how much the elder son has to teach us about the condition of our hearts, how distant our hearts may be from God, and our need for repentance. I think this article is a very good compliment to the article entitled ’Exile of Both Sons’ by Father Robert Aida.

At The Doors of Holy Lent – Archimandrite Zacharias

The elder son may have been a child of the Father, but his heart was not with Him. He lived in his Father’s house enjoying His wealth, but he had not given his heart to Him. He had put his confidence in external works and he never worked on his heart. Therefore, he could not enter the house and join the feast for the return of his brother. He speaks about his brother with no compassion as if he were a stranger. In his dialogue with the Father, without even naming him, he resentfully refers to him with the words, ‘this your son’.

The firstborn son had wasted his life, turning it into the formal fulfilment of his duty, instead of increasing it and enriching it as an offering of love. If he had nurtured tender love for the Father, he would not have condemned any of His acts, but would have followed His slightest desire as something holy and sacred.

The elder son represents first the Pharisees, who justified themselves in all things and would have preferred to see a sinner be destroyed rather than forgiven. They put their confidence in their rights and considered themselves to be the elect of God. They thought they knew His law and that they were not transgressing His commandments. On the other hand, blinded as they were by pride, they were not only unable to recognise the Son of God in the Person of the meek and lowly Jesus, but they also confronted Him as a criminal. They condemned Him and in the end they even killed Him.

This son also represents a number of Christians, who live a comfortable life, performing external pious works and taking for granted their own salvation. Yet, for created and sinful man to enter the heavenly banquet, it is not enough to pay a visit to the church, light a candle, listen to the beautiful chanting and then leave. An ontological transformation must occur in his heart and man must develop an inner relationship of love with his Father ‘which is in heaven’. And since through His incarnation, Christ has become the most known among the three Persons of the Holy Trinity, He is our Father, brother and Saviour, He is all things. Through the invocation of His Name, the heart is changed and cultivated.

‘Therefore came his father out, and intreated him.’ God humbles Himself before man and condescends to his weaknesses, so as to sustain and care for every soul in His goodness, and receive them in His Kingdom. The Father not only hastened to comfort the prodigal son, but also came out to console his other son who protested at being treated unjustly.

‘And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf. And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’

The elder son had fallen prey to the illusion that he had never broken any commandment, his heart was far from his Father. The eyes of his soul were not open to discern the repentance of his brother and the change in his soul. Instead, he only judged his external actions, and though he lacked accurate knowledge of them, he enumerated them. His words contained wilfulness, envy and harshness. The elder son is the personification of human justice, who considers that God is obliged to him and resists His will. If he had given his heart to the Father without reserve, he would have found the trust to take part in the feast with no need to ask for details. He would have rejoiced with the joy of his Father. The man who repents and returns to God is not concerned about anything except His justice and wisdom, which he unquestioningly accepts in times of both sorrow and joy.

When the Lord appeared after the Resurrection to the disciples at the lake of Gennesaret, He restored Peter as the chief of the apostles with His threefold question: ‘Dost thou love me?’, and then foretold him his martyrdom. Peter turned to John and asked Christ puzzled: ‘What shall this man do?’ The Lord then gave him another great lesson through the words: ‘If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? follow thou me.’ 37 Our eyes must not wander around to see what the others do, how they react, what they say. Our gaze must remain fixed on the Lord, Who will lead us to the haven of salvation, if we follow Him.

‘Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.’ When we convince God that we love Him as our Father, He gives us all His life. He gives to all the same commandments and the same promises. The knowledge of His love and of His thirst to impart to us by grace all that belongs to Him by nature, floods the soul with gratitude and leaves no room in the heart for the hideous passion of envy.

The word of the Father, ‘All that I have is thine,’ is fearful. If God Himself is mindful of all things and makes us partakers of His eternal treasure, then we cannot lack anything. His Light shines for all and is not diminished when it illumines not only us but also our brethren. It is like the flame of the candle, which remains the same, even if it ignites millions of other candles. In every portion of His Body and Blood, He gives us the entire wealth of His gifts. The Lord gives us all things, but we also have a great debt: to follow Him and consider the salvation of our brother and of the whole world as our own concern and joy. Then, all the abundance of gifts that sprang from the coming of the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, will become our own.

The Light proceeding from the Father gives us the ‘light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ’ 38… The image of the only begotten Son of one substance with the Father, the Logos, kindles a strong desire in us to become like Him in all things… We suffer but in a hitherto-unknown way… We shrink into ourselves, knowing ourselves for what we are, while at the same time God comes forward to embrace us like the father of the prodigal son. Fear and trembling depart from us, giving place to wonder at God. He clothes us in rich garments. He adorns us with great gifts, the noblest of which is all-embracing love. Our initial suffering of repentance is transformed into the joy and sweetness of love which now takes a new form–compassion for every creature deprived of divine Light. 39

The Lord Jesus Christ Who overcame the world, is a Living God, always present among us. He reigns unto all ages. If we surrender our whole heart to Him with trust and cultivate a relationship of love, humility and thanksgiving with Him, nothing will be able to make us waver. Through the continual and painful struggle of our repentance, we will leave behind our old sins. We will make a new beginning to return to the house of the Father and our life will be blessed and renewed. When the end of time will come, this relationship with the Lord will continue, but on another level, stronger, more perfect, indescribable.

How does the parable of the Prodigal Son illustrate God’s goal for us and our purpose?

I find this passage from Archimandrite Zacharias of Essex (disciple of Saint Sophrony of Essex) full of great wisdom and guidance for us as we prepare ourselves this week for the Sunday of the Prodigal Son.

This passage is an extract from his book ’Hidden Man Of The Heart’. Perhaps, this provides some solid ground to a question raised in yesterday’s class…. what is my purpose; why am I here … in the context of this parable. This article may also remind us all of the essential humility that even with a parable which we believe we are quite familiar ; we can humbly accept that ’we realize we know but a little’ and find much to learn.

Within this passage , you will also see how the themes of our hearts, exile, and shame are woven powerfully together into this explanation and exploration of the Prodigal Son.

The Mystery Of Man’s Heart (Extract from Hidden Man of the Heart)

All the ordinances of the undefiled Church are offered to the world for the sole purpose of discovering the ‘deep heart’,[1] the centre of man’s hypostasis. According to the Holy Scriptures, God has fashioned every heart in a special way, and each heart is His goal, a place wherein He desires to abide that He may manifest Himself.

Since the kingdom of God is within us,[2] the heart is the battlefield of our salvation, and all ascetic effort is aimed at cleansing it of all filthiness, and preserving it pure before the Lord. ‘Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life’, exhorts Solomon, the wise king of Israel.[3] These paths of life pass through man’s heart, and therefore the unquenchable desire of all who ceaselessly seek the Face of the living God is that their heart, once deadened by sin, may be rekindled by His grace.

The heart is the true ‘temple’ of man’s meeting with the Lord. Man’s heart ‘seeketh knowledge’[4] both intellectual and divine, and knows no rest until the Lord of glory comes and abides therein. On His part God, Who is ‘a jealous God’,[5] will not settle for a mere portion of the heart. In the Old Testament we hear His voice crying out, ‘My son, give Me thy heart’;[6] and in the New Testament He commands: ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.’[7] He is the one Who has fashioned the heart of every man in a unique and unrepeatable way, though no heart can contain Him fully because ‘God is greater than our heart’.[8] Nevertheless, when man succeeds in turning his whole heart to God, then God Himself begets it by the incorruptible seed of His word, seals it with His wondrous Name and makes it shine with His perpetual and charismatic presence. He makes it a temple of His Divinity, a temple not made by hands, able to reflect His ‘shape’ and to hearken unto His ‘voice’ and ‘bear’ His Name.[9] In a word, man then fulfils the purpose of his life, the reason for his coming into the transient existence of this world.

The great tragedy of our time lies in the fact that we live, speak, think, and even pray to God, outside our heart, outside our Father’s house. And truly our Father’s house is our heart, the place where ‘the spirit of glory and of God’[10] would find repose, that Christ may ‘be formed in us’.[11]Indeed, only then can we be made whole, and become hypostases in the image of the true and perfect Hypostasis, the Son and Word of God, Who created us and redeemed us by the precious Blood of His ineffable sacrifice.

Yet, as long as we are held captive by our passions, which distract our mind from our heart and lure it into the ever-changing and vain world of natural and created things, thus depriving us of all spiritual strength, we will not know the new birth from on High that makes us children of God and gods by grace. In fact, in one way or another, we are all ‘prodigal sons’ of our Father in heaven, because, as the Scriptures testify, ‘All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.’[12] Sin has separated our mind from the life-giving contemplation of God and led it into a ‘far country’.[13] In this ‘far country’ we have been deprived of the honour of our Father’s embrace and, in feeding swine, we have been made subject to demons. We gave ourselves over to dishonourable passions and the dreadful famine of sin, which then established itself by force, becoming the law of our members. But now we must come out of this godless hell and return to our Father’s house, so as to uproot the law of sin that is within us and allow the law of Christ’s commandments to dwell in our heart. For the only path leading out of the torments of hell to the everlasting joy of the Kingdom is that of the divine commandments: with our whole being we are to love God and our neighbour with a heart that is free of all sin.

The return journey from this remote and inhospitable land is not an easy one, and there is no hunger more fearful than that of a heart laid waste by sin. Those in whom the heart is full of the consolation of incorruptible grace can endure all external deprivations and afflictions, transforming them into a feast of spiritual joy; but the famine in a hardened heart lacking divine consolation is a comfortless torment. There is no greater misfortune than that of an insensible and petrified heart that is unable to distinguish between the luminous Way of God’s Providence and the gloomy confusion of the ways of this world. On the other hand, throughout history there have been men whose hearts were filled with grace. These chosen vessels were enlightened by the spirit of prophecy, and were therefore able to distinguish between Divine Light and the darkness of this world.

No matter how daunting and difficult the struggle of purifying the heart may be, nothing should deter us from this undertaking. We have on our side the ineffable goodness of a God Who has made man’s heart His personal concern and goal. In the Book of Job, we read the following astonishing words: ‘What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? And that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment…Why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself?’[14] We sense God, Who is incomprehensible, pursuing man’s heart: ‘Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.’[15] He knocks at the door of our heart, but He also encourages us to knock at the door of His mercy: ‘Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.’[16] When the two doors that are God’s goodness and man’s heart open, then the greatest miracle of our existence occurs: man’s heart is united with the Spirit of the Lord, God feasting with the sons of men.

From the few thoughts we have mentioned, we now begin to see how precious it is to stand before God with our whole heart as we pour it out before Him. We also begin to understand how vital is the task of discovering the heart, because this allows us to talk to God and our Father from the heart and to be heard by Him, and to give Him the right to perfect the work of our renewal and restoration to the original honour we enjoyed as His sons.

We deprive ourselves of the feast of God’s consolation not only when we hand ourselves over to the corruption of sin, feeding swine in a far country, but also when we contend in a negligent way. ‘Cursed be he that doeth the work of the Lord deceitfully,’ warns the Prophet Jeremiah.[17] In the feeding of swine, it is the devil, our enemy, who gives us work which is accursed. But if we do the Lord’s work half-heartedly, we put ourselves under a curse, though we may be dwelling in the house of the Lord. For God will not tolerate division in man’s heart; He is pleased only when man speaks to Him with all his heart and does His work joyfully: ‘God loveth a cheerful giver,’ says the Apostle.[18] He wants our whole heart to be turned and devoted to Him, and He then fills it with the bounties of His goodness and the gifts of His compassion. He ‘sows bountifully’[19] but He expects the same from us.

As long as man is under the dominion of sin and death, being given over to the power of evil, he becomes increasingly selfish. In his pride and despair, and being separated from God Who is good, he struggles to survive, but the only thing he gains is a heavier curse upon his head and even greater desolation. But however much he may be corrupted by the famine of sin, the primal gift of his having been created in God’s ‘image and likeness’ remains irrevocable and indelible. Thus, he always carries within him the possibility of a rising out of the kingdom of darkness and into to the kingdom of light and life. This occurs when he ‘comes to himself’ and in pain of soul confesses, ‘I perish with hunger.’[20]

When fallen man ‘comes to himself’ and turns to God, ‘it is time for the Lord to work’, as we say at the beginning of the Divine Liturgy; in pain, man then enters his own heart, which is the greatest honour reserved by God for man. God knows that He can now seriously converse with him, and is attentive to him, for when man enters his heart he speaks to God with knowledge of his true state, for which he now feels responsible. Indeed, man’s whole struggle is waged in order to convince God that he is His child, His very own, and when he has convinced Him, then he will hear in his heart those great words of the Gospel, ‘All that I have is thine.’[21] And the moment he convinces God that he is His, God makes the waterfalls of His compassion to flow, and God’s life becomes his life. This is the good pleasure of God’s original design in that it is for this that He created man. God then says to the one who has succeeded in persuading Him that he is His, ‘All My life, O man, is thy life.’ Then the Lord, Who is God by nature, grants man His own life, and man becomes a god by grace.

In the Gospel of St Luke we are told that the prodigal son ‘came to himself’ and said, ‘I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.’[22] This is a wondrous moment, a momentous event in the spiritual world. Suffering, affliction, and the menacing famine of the ‘far country’ compel man to look within himself. But a single movement of divine grace is enough to convert the energy of his misfortune into great boldness, and he is enabled to see his heart and all the deadness from which he is suffering. Now, with prophetic knowledge, he boldly confesses that ‘his days are consumed in vanity’.[23] In pain of soul, he discovers that his whole life until then consists of a series of failures and betrayals of God’s commandments, and that he has done no good deed upon earth which can withstand the unbearable gaze of the Eternal Judge. He sees his plight and, like the much-afflicted Job, cries out, ‘Hades is my house.’[24]

With such a lamentation of despair and, thirsting only for God’s blessed eternity, man can then turn his whole being towards the living Lord. He can cry from the depth of his heart to Him Who ‘has power of life and death: who leads to the gates of hell, and brings up again’.[25] This is the turning point in our life, for God the Saviour then begins His work of refashioning man.

When man falls into sin his mind moves in an outward direction and loses itself in created things, but when, conscious of his perdition, he comes to himself seeking salvation, he then moves inward as he searches for the way back to the heart. Finally, when all his being is gathered in the unity of his mind and heart, there is a third kind of movement in which he turns his whole being over to God the Father. Man’s spirit must pass through this threefold circular motion in order to reach perfection.

During the first stage, man lives and acts outside his heart and entertains proud thoughts and considers vain things. In fact, he is in a state of delusion. His heart is darkened and void of understanding. In his fallen condition, he prefers to worship and serve ‘the creature more than the Creator’.[26] Because he lives without his heart, he has no discernment and is ‘ignorant of [Satan’s] devices’.[27] As the Old Testament wisely observes: ‘The fool hath no heart to get wisdom’,[28] and because his heart is not the basis of his existence, man remains inexperienced and unfruitful, ‘beating the air’.[29] He is unable to walk steadily in the way of the Lord and is characterised by instability and double-mindedness.

In the second stage, man ‘comes to himself’, and he begins to have humble thoughts that attract grace and make his heart sensitive. Humble thoughts also enlighten his mind; they are born within himself, and they help him in discerning and accepting only those things that strengthen the heart, so that it stays unshakeable in its resolution to be pleasing to God both in life and in death. During the first stage, man surrenders to a vicious circle of destructive thoughts, whilst in the second, inspired by Christ’s word, he is led along a chain of thoughts, each deeper than the last: from faith he is led to more perfect faith, from hope to firmer hope, from grace to greater grace and from love of God to an ever greater measure of love. ‘We know’, as the Apostle Paul says, ‘that all things work together for good to them that love God.’[30] Indeed, this entry ‘into oneself’ and the discovery of the heart are the work of divine grace. And when man heeds God’s call and co-operates with the grace that is bestowed on him, this grace summons and strengthens all his being.

When the grace of mindfulness of death becomes active, man not only sees that all his days have been consumed in vanity, that everything until now has been a failure, and that he has betrayed God all his life, but he realises that death threatens to blot out all that his conscience has hitherto embraced, even God. He is now convinced that his spirit has need of eternity and that no created thing, neither angel nor man, can help him. This provokes him to seek freedom from every created thing and every passionate attachment. And if he then believes in Christ’s word and turns to Him, then it is easy for him to find his heart because he is becoming a free being. His faith is salutary, for he now acknowledges that Christ is the ‘rewarder of them that diligently seek him’,[31] that is, he believes that Christ is the eternal and almighty Lord Who has come to save the world and will come again to judge the whole world with justice. He has entrusted himself to ‘the law of faith’,[32] and begins to believe in hope against hope,[33] pinning everything on the mercy of God the Saviour. Such true faith can be seen in the Canaanite woman, who received the Lord’s instruction as a dog receives food from its master, and she followed Him freely and steadfastly. As far as she was concerned, God remained righteous and forever blessed whether He were to rebuke her or praise her. Faith like this receives the approval of adoption because it grows out of love and humility, ever attracting divine grace which opens and quickens the heart.

When man believes and his spirit finds true contact with the Spirit of ‘Jesus Christ who was raised from the dead’[34] and Who lives and reigns forever, he is enlightened so that he can see his spiritual poverty and desolation. He also perceives that he is still far from eternal life, and this gives birth to great fear in him because he is now aware that God is absent from his life. Godly fear such as this strengthens man’s heart to resist sin and begets a firm resolve to prefer heavenly things to earthly things. His life begins to prove the truth of the words of Scripture: ‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.’[35] As man’s heart draws to itself the grace of God, this gift of fear humbles him, and prevents him from becoming overbold; that he ‘not think of himself more highly than he ought to think’,[36] and that he keep himself prudently within the limits of created being.

Another infallible means by which the believer finds his heart is in accepting shame for his sins in the sacrament of confession. Christ saved us by enduring the Cross of shame for our sakes. Similarly, when the believer comes out of the camp of this world,[37] he disregards its good opinion and judgment, taking upon himself the shame of his sins, and thereby acquiring a humble heart. The Lord receives his sense of shame for his sins as a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and imparts to him the grace of His great Sacrifice on the Cross. This grace so purifies and renews his heart that he can then stand before God in a manner that is pleasing to Him.

I have not said much, but I hope it is clear that man’s principal work, which alone gives worth to his life, is the effort of discovering and purifying his ‘deep heart’, that it may be blessed with the indescribable contemplation of our God, Who is Holy.

Source: Archimandrite Zacharias (Zacharou), The hidden man of the heart, edition Stavropegic Monastery of St John the Baptist, Essex 2007, pp. 11-26.

NOTES

1. Cf. Ps. 64:6., 2.Cf. Luke 17:21., 3. Prov. 4:23., 4. Prov. 15:14., 5. Exod. 34:15,6. Prov. 23:26., 7. Matt. 12:30., 8. 1 John 3:20., 9. Cf. John 5:37; Acts 9:15., 10. 1 Pet. 4:14., 11. Gal. 4:19., 12. Rom. 3:23. , 13. Luke 9:15. , 14. Job 7:17, 15. Rev. 3:20. , 16. Luke 11:9-10. , 17. Jer. 48:10. , 18. 2 Cor. 9:7. , 19. Cf. 2 Cor. 9:6., 20. Luke 15:17.,21. Luke 15:31. , 22. Luke 15:18-19. , 23. Cf. Ps. 78:33. , 24. Cf. Job 17:13. , 25. Wisdom of Solomon 16:13. , 26. Rom. 1:25. , 27. 2 Cor. 2:11. , 28. Cf. Prov. 17:16. , 29. Cf. 1 Cor. 9:26., 30. Rom. 8:28. , 31. Heb. 11:6. , 32. Rom. 3:27. , 33. Cf. Rom. 4:18. , 34. 2 Tim. 2:8 , 35. Prov. 1:7 LXX. , 36. Rom. 12:3. , 37. Cf. Heb. 13:11-12.

What is pride and how is it central to what separates us from God and each other?

Arguably , the C.S. Lewis classic Mere Christianity in Chapter 8 entitled ’The Great Sin’ captures the essence of how pride distorts our lives and denies us what we most need in coming to participate in this daily possibility of communion with God and each other.

Excerpts from Chapter 8 ’The Great Sin’ Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

I now come to that part of Christian morals where they differ most sharply from all other morals. There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine that they are guilty themselves. I have heard people admit that they are bad-tempered, or that they cannot keep their heads about girls or drink, or even that they are cowards. I do not think I have ever heard anyone who was not a Christian accuse himself of this vice. And at the same time I have very seldom met anyone, who was not a Christian, who showed the slightest mercy to it in others. There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others.

The vice I am talking of is Pride or Self-Conceit: and the virtue opposite to it, in Christian morals, is called Humility. You may remember, when I was talking about sexual morality, I warned you that the centre of Christian morals did not lie there. Well, now, we have come to the centre. According to Christian teachers, the essential vice, the utmost evil, is Pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness, and all that, are mere fleabites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.

Does this seem to you exaggerated? If so, think it over. I pointed out a moment ago that the more pride one had, the more one disliked pride in others. In fact, if you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, ‘How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronise me, or show off?’ The point is that each person’s pride is in competition with every one else’s pride. It is because I wanted to be the big noise at the party that I am so annoyed at someone else being the big noise. Two of a trade never agree. Now what you want to get clear is that Pride is essentially competitive—is competitive by its very nature—while the other vices are competitive only, so to speak, by accident. Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say that people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good-looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer, or cleverer, or better-looking than others. If everyone else became equally rich, or clever, or good-looking there would be nothing to be proud about. It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone. That is why I say that Pride is essentially competitive in a way the other vices are not. The sexual impulse may drive two men into competition if they both want the same girl. But that is only by accident; they might just as likely have wanted two different girls. But a proud man will take your girl from you, not because he wants her, but just to prove to himself that he is a better man than you. Greed may drive men into competition if there is not enough to go round; but the proud man, even when he has got more than he can possibly want, will try to get still more just to assert his power. Nearly all those evils in the world which people put down to greed or selfishness are really far more the result of Pride.

The Christians are right: it is Pride which has been the chief cause of misery in every nation and every family since the world began. Other vices may sometimes bring people together: you may find good fellowship and jokes and friendliness among drunken people or unchaste people. But pride always means enmity—it is enmity. And not only enmity between man and man, but enmity to God.

In God you come up against something which is in every respect immeasurably superior to yourself. Unless you know God as that—and, therefore, know yourself as nothing in comparison—you do not know God at all. As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.

That raises a terrible question. How is it that people who are quite obviously eaten up with Pride can say they believe in God and appear to themselves very religious? I am afraid it means they are worshipping an imaginary God. They theoretically admit themselves to be nothing in the presence of this phantom God, but are really all the time imagining how He approves of them and thinks them far better than ordinary people: that is, they pay a pennyworth of imaginary humility to Him and get out of it a pound’s worth of Pride towards their fellow-men. I suppose it was of those people Christ was thinking when He said that some would preach about Him and cast out devils in His name, only to be told at the end of the world that He had never known them. And any of us may at any moment be in this death-trap. Luckily, we have a test. Whenever we find that our religious life is making us feel that we are good—above all, that we are better than someone else—I think we may be sure that we are being acted on, not by God, but by the devil. The real test of being in the presence of God is, that you either forget about yourself altogether or see yourself as a small, dirty object. It is better to forget about yourself altogether.

It is a terrible thing that the worst of all the vices can smuggle itself into the very centre of our religious life. But you can see why. The other, and less bad, vices come from the devil working on us through our animal nature. But this does not come through our animal nature at all. It comes direct from Hell. It is purely spiritual: consequently it is far more subtle and deadly. For the same reason, Pride can often be used to beat down the simpler vices. Teachers, in fact, often appeal to a boy’s Pride, or, as they call it, his self-respect, to make him behave decently: many a man has overcome cowardice, or lust, or ill-temper, by learning to think that they are beneath his dignity—that is, by Pride. The devil laughs. He is perfectly content to see you becoming chaste and brave and self-controlled provided, all the time, he is setting up in you the Dictatorship of Pride—just as he would be quite content to see your chilblains cured if he was allowed, in return, to give you cancer. For Pride is spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense.

Before leaving this subject I must guard against some possible misunderstandings:

We must not think Pride is something God forbids because He is offended at it, or that Humility is something He demands as due to His own dignity—as if God Himself was proud. He is not in the least worried about His dignity. The point is, He wants you to know Him: wants to give you Himself. And He and you are two things of such a kind that if you really get into any kind of touch with Him you will, in fact, be humble—delightedly humble, feeling the infinite relief of having for once got rid of all the silly nonsense about your own dignity which has made you restless and unhappy all your life. He is trying to make you humble in order to make this moment possible: trying to take off a lot of silly, ugly, fancy-dress in which we have all got ourselves up and are strutting about like the little idiots we are. I wish I had got a bit further with humility myself: if I had, I could probably tell you more about the relief, the comfort, of taking the fancy-dress off—getting rid of the false self, with all its ‘Look at me’ and ‘Aren’t I a good boy?’ and all its posing and posturing. To get even near it, even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a desert.

A really humble man …will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all. If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realise that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.

What are you relying on?

We live in a culture that idolizes individual power and self-reliance. We miss something very crucial if we approach our preparation for Lent without deepening our humility and dependence on Christ. This short extract from a homily by Father Phillip LeMaster may be helpful in identifying how this trap of self-reliance can manifest itself during Lent. It’s interesting that a central tenet of his homily is drawn from the short desperate prayer found in the Gospel of Mark which many of us can so deeply relate to … ‘I believe, help my unbelief’. Perhaps this prayer epitomizes this necessity of a relentless cycle of receiving from Him all that is good and then circling in our emptiness back to Him as the ‘treasury of good gifts’ and ‘giver of life’.

As we think about the condition of the hearts of the Publican and Pharisee, it’s useful to ask this question of what is the power source for how they are praying and living their lives. It seems clear that much of what was missing in the heart of the Pharisee is a ‘with God’ experience and realization of how dependent he is upon God for whatever manifestation of virtue appears in his life. The Pharisee was living in the delusion and distortion that he was the creator of these virtues and he was worshipping and praying to the small imaginary god of self and self reliance not the True and Triune God. And perhaps one of the greatest assets and aspirations of the Publican was the clarity in his heart that only in the humility of a ‘with God’ reliance could he be delivered from his darkness to Light.

Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth. And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.
Mark 9: 23 – 24

Father Phillip LeMaster

As we continue the Lenten journey, we must remember that this season is not about us and what we think we can achieve spiritually by relying on our own willpower or virtue to perform acts of religious devotion. Spiritual disciplines are not exercises in self-reliance, as though we earn something from God by being diligent in performing them. Instead, they are simply ways of helping us share more fully in the life of Christ as we grow in recognizing our sinfulness and opening ourselves to receive His healing mercy. No amount of piety could conquer the power of death and make a path for us to participate personally in the eternal life of God by grace. Only the God-Man, in His full Self-offering on the Cross, could do that. Lent is preparation to unite ourselves to Christ in His Passion, for “The Son of man will be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill Him; and after He is killed, He will rise on the third day.” He is the eternal High Priest Who “has gone as a forerunner on our behalf” into the Heavenly Tabernacle where He intercedes for us eternally (Rom. 8:34).

The healing of our souls is found by sharing in the life of Christ. We will be able to unite ourselves to Him in holiness only when we know the weakness of our faith as we turn away from self-reliance and receive His mercy from the depths of our souls. The disciplines of Lent are teachers of humility that should help us “commend ourselves and one another, and all our life, unto Christ our God.” He accepted the imperfect faith of the father of the demon-possessed boy, and He will do the same with us if we come to Him in the same humble spirit. Doing so is really the only way to prepare to follow the Savior to His Cross and empty tomb.