St. Patrick’s BreastPlate As Protection Against Secularism – Glory To God For All Things Blog March 2026 By Father Stephen Freeman

As we start our journey to encounter the Alaskan Saints, I’d like to remind us of Christ’s challenge to be ‘in the world’ but ‘not of the world’ (John 17:15-16). At the heart of this challenge is the reality of how we see the world.

Orthodoxy challenges us to find Christ and a sacredness in the ‘life of the world’ that God is constantly renewing and ceaselessly creating. Father Alexander Schmemann expressing this beautifully in his classic ‘For the Life of the World’:

“All that exists is God’s gift to man, and it all exists to make God known to man, to make man’s life communion with God. It is divine love made food, made life for man. God blesses everything He creates, and, in biblical language, this means that He makes all creation the sign and means of His presence and wisdom, love and revelation: “O taste and see that the Lord is good.” 

I hope today’s class will help us learn enough about the native Alaskan culture to begin to challenge the blind spot of our secularism. This article can help us understand this challenge as we prayerfully ask God to help us use this class to see the world with the eyes and ears of faith that He is truly ‘everywhere present filling all things’.

“A good way to think of culture is ‘the way we see our world,’ because culture is more a view than a thing. It is invisible to us. Looking at our own culture even partially becomes possible only when we leave it.” – Father Michael Oleksa

In this class, we’ll attempt to leave our own culture and encounter the native Alaskan one. The Alaskan Mission article we’re using today concludes by saying:

“There is, indeed, a plan, a purpose, a goal to the created universe, and it is all Christ. We can conform our lives to Him and thus live in harmony with that all-embracing Plan, the pre-eternal Logos …And we can include within that vision, by blessing and sanctifying it, all that was made in Him and through Him and for Him”

Those words brought up for me the beautiful prayer of St. Patrick’s Breastplate and perhaps the reminder of how across cultures, continents, and generations; the truth of Christ is eternally Now, Emmanuel, God with us – Bruce


The nature of secularism is the notion that anything at all exists apart from God – that is – that it has an independent existence. This is the very heart of modernity’s self-understanding: the world and all that is in it is self-existing and does not require God for its existence or well-being. This is a radical notion and is inherently atheistic. That someone might believe in God is not necessarily forbidden, but such a belief is purely a matter of individual preference and has nothing to do with the world as it actually is. 

Some describe modern secularism as a “dis-enchantment” of the world – a denial that the world has anything special or sacramental about it. A thing is a thing is a thing. Of course, a corollary to this is the notion that human beings are just things among other things. That those who are infected with a secularist world-view (and there are many – perhaps a majority) too easily find themselves battling emptiness and depression. Their lives have little wonder, while beauty is nothing more than a concept, as non-existent as God. 

This is not the Orthodox Christian faith. The earliest Christianity in the British Isles is often described as “Celtic Christianity.” This is nothing other than the Orthodox faith as it was encountered among the Celtic believers in the British Isles when Christianity from the continent met it in 597 A.D. in the mission of St. Augustine of Canterbury. There would have been much in common between the two (continental Christianity in the West at that time was itself Orthodox). Of course, one of the greatest exemplars of the Orthodox faith in Celtic Britain was St. Patrick of Ireland ( 385-461 A.D.). He himself was not Irish but what we today would describe as “Welsh” (“Briton”). 

St. Patrick

What he preached and taught was the Orthodox faith. We have a wonderful legacy from his ministry, a hymn known as “St. Patrick’s Breastplate.” In it, we hear a reflection of what it means to understand creation as sacramental. St. Patrick describes something more than a person’s subjective impressions of creation. He “binds to himself” the “powers” of the things he sees and describes. He is, in prayer, literally wrapping himself in the “energies” (an Orthodox theological term) of what he sees around him. This is not magic – it is an affirmation of the true nature of creation and our relationship to it. 

The world has not been “dis-enchanted,” unless we believe the manifold proclamations of secular lies. Things are not things. “Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory,” we declare to God. Creation is infused with beauty and declares the wonder of the Creator. St. Maximus went so far as to describe the “three incarnations” of God: in the Scriptures, in creation, and in the God-Man, Jesus Christ. 

St. Patrick sees creation for what it is. His voice, reaching us down through the centuries, teaches us how to see. Later this month, a fair part of the world will celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. There will be an excess of beer, an over-abundance of the color green, and an indulgence in more than a little silliness. 

If, however, you love St. Patrick, you would do well to pray his breast-plate, perhaps, even to commit it to memory. It will teach you to see the world. Take a good look, then have a cup of tea. 

When my book, Everywhere Present: Christianity in a One-Storey Universe, was translated into Russian, the editor suggested adding a chapter with St. Patrick’s Breastplate translated into Russian. And so it was. I wish it had been in the English original. St. Patrick lived, prayed, and sang in a One-Storey Universe. God give us grace to do the same! 

St. Patrick’s Breastplate Prayer

I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this today to me forever
By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;
His baptism in Jordan river,
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb,
His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of cherubim;
The sweet ‘Well done’ in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word,
The Patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the star lit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward;
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and whiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.
By Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Translated by Mrs. Cecil Francis Alexander (1889) 

Our Alaskan Orthodox Heritage

The spirituality of the Native Alaskans was very much real and deeply woven into their culture and way of life. Father Michael discusses how the Alaskan Missionaries used this as their foundation to introduce Christ and his Church to these people … and how successful this mission was and still is to this native population.

What Was The Experience Of God For Native Alaskans Before Christianity – Father Michael Okeska

Next Father Michael discusses this integration between the spiritual and material as a reflection of God’s sovereignity and power in the context of Father Herman’s relics and grave site. He also talks about the importance of wonderworking icons and relics as means of promoting healing and wholeness … as vehicles for God to reveal himself and express His Goodness.

Miracles Of Saints Of Alaska – Father Michael Oleska

In this final video, Father Michael Oleska describes the mindset of the Alaska Orthodox Mission from Russia. His discussion focuses on the importance of understanding and respecting a culture as a foundation to this mission of sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ.

North American Saints Part 2 – To See The World Eucharistically – What Does Our Native Alaskan Heritage Offer Orthodox Christians Today?

As we begin this series about North American Saints , I believe it’s quite useful to see not only what our earliest saints gave to the Native Alaskans but also what these Native Alaskans have to offer us today.

How We Distort The Reality Of What God Has Created As Sacred

The Challenge Of The Water We Swim In And The Two Storied Universe We’ve Created

Let’s begin with the truth in the words of the Prayer of the Holy Spirit we begin so many Orthodox services:

O Heavenly King, the Comforter, the Spirit of Truth, Who art everywhere present and fillest all things; Treasury of Blessings, and Giver of Life – come and abide in us, and cleanse us from every impurity, and save our souls, O Good One.

I’ve used quotes from the Orthodox classic ‘For The Life Of The World’ by Father Alexander Schumann and the more recent publication Everywhere Present by Father Stephen Freeman to help us understand a major challenge we all face.

from ‘The Life Of The World’

Man is what he eats.” With this statement the German materialistic philosopher Feuerbach thought he had put an end to all “idealistic” speculations about human nature. In fact, however, he was expressing, without knowing it, the most religious idea of man. For long before Feuerbach the same definition of man was given by the Bible. In the biblical story of creation man is presented, first of all, as a hungry being, and the whole world as his food. Second only to the direction to propagate and have dominion over the earth, according to the author of the first chapter of Genesis, is God’s instruction to men to eat of the earth: “Behold I have given you every herb bearing seed … and every tree, which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.…” Man must eat in order to live; he must take the world into his body and transform it into himself, into flesh and blood. He is indeed that which he eats, and the whole world is presented as one all-embracing banquet table for man. And this image of the banquet remains, throughout the whole Bible, the central image of life. It is the image of life at its creation and also the image of life at its end and fulfillment: “… that you eat and drink at my table in my Kingdom.” I begin with this seemingly secondary theme of food—secondary from the standpoint of the great “religious issues” of our time—because the very purpose of this essay is to answer, if possible, the question:

Of what life do we speak, what life do we preach, proclaim and announce when, as Christians, we confess that Christ died for the life of the world? What life is both motivation, and the beginning and the goal of Christian mission?

The existing answers follow two general patterns. 

There are those among us for whom life, when discussed in religious terms, means religious life. And this religious life is a world in itself, existing apart from the secular world and its life….Lost and confused in the noise, the rush and the frustrations of “life,” man easily accepts the invitation to enter into the inner sanctuary of his soul and to discover there another life, to enjoy a “spiritual banquet” amply supplied with spiritual food. This spiritual food will help him. It will help him to restore his peace of mind, to endure the other—the secular—life, to accept its tribulations, to lead a wholesome and more dedicated life, to “keep smiling” in a deep, religious way. And thus mission consists here in converting people to this “spiritual” life, in making them “religious.”

…But there are those also, to whom the affirmation “for the life of the world” seems to mean naturally “for the better life of the world.” The “spiritualists” are counterbalanced by the activists…From this point of view Christianity has simply lost the world. And the world must be recovered. The Christian mission, therefore, is to catch up with the life that has gone astray. The “eating” and “drinking” man is taken quite seriously, almost too seriously. He constitutes the virtually exclusive object of Christian action, and we are constantly called to repent for having spent too much time in contemplation and adoration, in silence and liturgy, for having not dealt sufficiently with the social, political, economic, racial and all other issues of real life.

One eats and drinks, one fights for freedom and justice in order to be alive, to have the fullness of life. But what is it? What is the life of life itself? What is the content of life eternal? At some ultimate point, within some ultimate analysis, we inescapably discover that in and by itself action has no meaning. When all committees have fulfilled their task, all papers have been distributed and all practical goals achieved, there must come a perfect joy. About what? Unless we know, the same dichotomy between religion and life, which we have observed in the spiritual solution, remains. 

Whether we “spiritualize” our life or “secularize” our religion, whether we invite men to a spiritual banquet or simply join them at the secular one, the real life of the world, for which we are told God gave his only-begotten Son, remains hopelessly beyond our religious grasp.

“Man is what he eats.” But what does he eat and why? These questions seem naive and irrelevant.

But both answers were given within the same fundamental opposition of the spiritual to the material. “Spiritual” versus “material,” “sacred” versus “profane,” “supernatural” versus “natural”—such were for centuries the only accepted, the only understandable moulds and categories of religious thought and experience. And Feuerbach, for all his materialism, was in fact a natural heir to Christian “idealism” and “spiritualism.” But the Bible, we have seen, also begins with man as a hungry being, with the man who is that which he eats. The perspective, however, is wholly different, for nowhere in the Bible do we find the dichotomies which for us are the self-evident framework of all approaches to religion. 

In the Bible the food that man eats, the world of which he must partake in order to live, is given to him by God, and it is given as communion with God. The world as man’s food is not something “material” and limited to material functions, thus different from, and opposed to, the specifically “spiritual” functions by which man is related to God. All that exists is God’s gift to man, and it all exists to make God known to man, to make man’s life communion with God. It is divine love made food, made life for man. God blesses everything He creates, and, in biblical language, this means that He makes all creation the sign and means of His presence and wisdom, love and revelation: “O taste and see that the Lord is good.” 

Man is a hungry being. But he is hungry for God. Behind all the hunger of our life is God. All desire is finally a desire for Him. To be sure, man is not the only hungry being. All that exists lives by “eating.” The whole creation depends on food. But the unique position of man in the universe is that he alone is to bless God for the food and the life he receives from Him. He alone is to respond to God’s blessing with his blessing. The significant fact about the life in the Garden is that man is to name things. As soon as animals have been created to keep Adam company, God brings them to Adam to see what he will call them. “And whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof.” Now, in the Bible a name is infinitely more than a means to distinguish one thing from another. It reveals the very essence of a thing, or rather its essence as God’s gift. 

To name a thing is to manifest the meaning and value God gave it, to know it as coming from God and to know its place and function within the cosmos created by God. To name a thing, in other words, is to bless God for it and in it. And in the Bible to bless God is not a “religious” or a “cultic” act, but the very way of life. God blessed the world, blessed man, blessed the seventh day (that is, time), and this means that He filled all that exists with His love and goodness. made all this “very good.” So the only natural (and not “supernatural”) reaction of man, to whom God gave this blessed and sanctified world, is to bless God in return, to thank Him, to see the world as God sees it and—in this act of gratitude and adoration—to know, name and possess the world. All rational, spiritual and other qualities of man, distinguishing him from other creatures, have their focus and ultimate fulfillment in this capacity to bless God, to know, so to speak, the meaning of the thirst and hunger that constitutes his life. “Homo sapiens,” “homo faber” … yes, but, first of all, “homo adorans.” The first, the basic definition of man is that he is the priest. He stands in the center of the world and unifies it in his act of blessing God, of both receiving the world from God and offering it to God—and by filling the world with this eucharist, he transforms his life, the one that he receives from the world, into life in God, into communion with Him. The world was created as the “matter,” the material of one all-embracing eucharist, and man was created as the priest of this cosmic sacrament. 

Men understand all this instinctively if not rationally. Centuries of secularism have failed to transform eating into something strictly utilitarian. Food is still treated with reverence. A meal is still a rite—the last “natural sacrament” of family and friendship, of life that is more than “eating” and “drinking.” To eat is still something more than to maintain bodily functions. People may not understand what that “something more” is, but they nonetheless desire to celebrate it. They are still hungry and thirsty for sacramental life.

From ‘Everywhere Present’ By Father Stephen Freeman

What had been an integrated vision of God and humankind, of the divine and the created, in the “one-storey universe” has become a dualistic segregation of God from human life in the “two-storey” model, in which God is absent from the first floor, and people begin to wonder if there is Anyone home up there. God has not disappeared from our world, but we have tried to exile Him to the second floor.

One of the most fundamental principles of the Christian vision of reality is that God is present everywhere, filling all things. This underlies the essential Christian task of becoming consciously aware of that Presence and bringing that awareness into every aspect of our life. Secularism is compartmentalization of God and religion, and everything else, into autonomous and unrelated parts of our lives. Secularism does not deny that God exists, but rather states that He has His place and does not necessarily affect other areas of our lives. But soon that compartmentalization leads to an exclusion of God altogether, as we create a world in which we live by our own reasonings. Thus is born a kind of Christian atheism, where we operate as if God were absent, perhaps even nonexistent. This kind of functional atheism then degrades into faithlessness. 

The real Christian task is to integrate our lives and our consciousness by the awareness of God, to overcome the compartmentalization dictated by our culture, and to sanctify all creation by the remembrance of God, awareness of His Presence. In truth, there is nothing that is not permeated by God, and there is nowhere we can flee from the Presence. We live, as it were, in the womb of God. It is not God who has absented Himself from our awareness. Rather, we have shut Him out and become forgetful of His Presence, intentionally oblivious to Reality Himself. 

We are faced with the task of overcoming the delusion of our own autonomy and surrendering to Him who rules over all things. Indeed, the compartmentalized world is a delusion of our own creation. It is the ascendancy of the rational mind over spiritual intuition, of the head over the heart. It creates a comfortable world with the safe borders of our own very limited perceptions and narrow vision, an illusion that we can understand and control, because it is not God who created it. When the boundaries crumble and we lose control of our fantasy world, which is as inevitable as death, then perhaps we can begin to deal with Reality Himself and the world as it is. This disillusionment is essential, albeit painful. Only then can we throw off the bondage of the limitations of our sensual perception and rational comprehension. Only then does God break through and awaken us from the dream world of our own fantasies.

Seeing The World As Sacred With Thankfulness And Gratitude

One of the most challenging realities we face is how to see the world as it is … in reality. And that vision is one that requires Christ.

Many of you may have seen the wonderful movie Sacred Alaska. Much of the storytelling and narration of this movie was by Father Michael Oleska of blessed memory. We’ll watch his talk entitled ‘What Do Native Alaskans Have To Offer To Orthodox Christians’ and discuss how their worldview can help us.

North American Saints Part I – The Alaskan Mission By Father Michael Oleksa Of Blessed Memory

I’d like to start our deep dive into the North American Saints by first exploring how Orthodoxy came into Alaska and was received by Native Americans. I believe we’ll find much about this beginning to help us understand and more deeply reflect Orthodoxy as a way of life.

Many of you may have seen the wonderful movie Sacred Alaska. Much of the storytelling and narration of this movie was by Father Michael Oleksa of blessed memory. I find his article below a great introduction to some of the key points I’d like our class to examine in conjunction with the North American Saints.

The Very Rev. Dr. Michael J. Oleksa, Th.D., was pastor of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church, and outreach coordinator for Sealaksa Heritage Foundation, served as missionary priest, bilingual school teacher, university history professor and seminary instructor in rural Alaskan communities for over fourty years. A graduate of St. Vladimir’s Seminary (1973) and the Orthodox Theological Faculty of Prague (1988), he is editor of Alaskan Mission Spirituality (Paulist Press, Mahwah, NJ, 1987) and Orthodox Alaska (SVS Press, Crestwood, NY, 1992), for which his Yup’ik Eskimo wife, Xenia, a watercolorist, created the cover. – Bruce


Over two hundred years ago , the first overseas mission of the Russian Orthodox Church arrived at Kodiak Alaska, founding what would become in 1970, the Orthodox Church in America. Just as this movement began in the west and moved eastward, in exactly the opposite direction as the rest of North American history, the Alaskan experience, in fact, contradicts many stereotypes of Christian missions and missionaries.

Although the monastic clergy in 1794 were sent to minister to several hundred employees of the fur trading company in the region, their primary goal was the conversion of the indigenous peoples of the Aleutian and Kodiak Archipelagos. When they discovered that the former were exploiting and oppressing the latter, they sided with the Natives, whom they called “the Americans,” protesting the abuses of their Siberian compatriots to the civil authorities in Irkutsk and St. Petersburg. Under house arrest for nearly a year, most of the monks either returned to Russia to report directly to the governor and Tsar, or moved out of harm’s way by relocating elsewhere. By 1812, Father Herman, one of the elders of the original delegation, had moved to Elovoi or Spruce Island and established a hermitage, a chapel, and later an orphanage there, three miles from the Kodiak settlement. Thanks to the linguistic talents of the Tsar’s personal representative, Priest-monk Gideon, the Kodiak parish operated the first bilingual school in the territory, teaching over a hundred Alutiiq children to pray, sing, read and write in their own language. Within a decade, ten thousand converts had been received into the Church.

Modern historians often ask why, if the Siberian frontiersmen in this early period so brutalized the Aleuts, they have remained so devoted to the Russian Orthodox Church. Part of the reason lies in the sympathetic and supportive stance of the original missionaries, their heroic defense of the Aleuts despite the hostility of the company administration and its employees. Another reason for the continued Aleut dedication to Orthodoxy is the identification of the mission with the indigenous culture and language, its willingness to use the aboriginal languages liturgically and to train local leadership for the church. But the most fundamental reasons are deeper, more theological, more spiritual.

Nine months after their arrival at Kodiak, Archimandrite Joseph, the head of the mission team, wrote a lengthy report to his igumen (abbot) back in Valaam, on Lake Ladoga from where the eight volunteers had been recruited. He detailed the religious beliefs of the Kodiak people, reporting that they already had many of the Ten Commandments of Moses in their spiritual tradition. They had a story of the Great Flood in the time of Noah. They believed that all people were descended from the same first parents, although they ascribed no names to them. In short, the missionary wrote, there is ample evidence that the Holy Spirit has been active among these people, and this should come as no surprise, since He goes wherever He wishes.

The Cosmic Gospel

This openness to the possibility, indeed the probability, that a so-called “pagan” culture would contain within itself certain fundamental truths which Christianity could and should affirm, echoes the most ancient attitude of the Church toward society. The Apostolic Church entered the Greco-Roman world of the first millennium AD, opposed in many essential ways to the values and worldview of that time, and yet willing to express its message in words and symbols intelligible to the people of that age. There is, in fact, no other choice. To communicate anything, one must employ a common vocabulary. The Church struggled for eight centuries to fill the original Greek words with Christian meanings, to redefine what the words themselves meant. Greek, for example, had such terms as “god,” “time,” “reason,” and “will,” but the Christian experience of these was radically different from what classical culture understood. Entering a culture in which the world was seen as a balance of conflicting forces without any over-all order or purpose, and in which, therefore human beings were left at the mercy of these capricious powers and had to control or manipulate them in order to survive, the Church had a tremendous missionary task. In the first nine centuries of the Christian era, she undertook to articulate her own worldview, in which the cosmos is governed by a supreme, transcendent, omnipotent and all-wise God. Christian saints denied the personal existence of the old pagan deities, but insisted that the “natural” forces they personified were, indeed, sacred realities, worthy not of worship, which is due God alone, but of reverence.

During the centuries called the “Dark Ages” in Western Europe history, the Eastern Christian Church dealt with many issues the Western Church is only now, belatedly, beginning to address. In the seventh century, for example, one of the central theological themes on the which Christian thinkers reflected was the spiritual importance of the created universe. John 3:16, for example, in the original Greek says “For God so loved the cosmos that He sent His Son…” Ephesians 3:9 refers to the mystery which had been hidden “in God who created all things by Jesus Christ,” who, according to Ephesians 1:23 “fills all in all.” Colossians 1:15-20 goes further:

For by him were all things created, that are in heaven and in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions or principalities or powers; all things were created by him and for him: He is before all things and by him all things consist; and he is the head of the body, the church: who is the beginning, the first born of the dead; that in all things he might have pre-eminence. For it pleased the Father than in him should all fullness dwell.

And, of course, the Paschal Gospel reading, John 1:1-17, proclaims a cosmic dimension to the coming of the Word made Flesh. In the eastern Christian tradition, the coming of Christ is not necessarily understood as the direct result of the Fall, of sin and evil. Adam and Eve were created to grow toward spiritual perfection and maturity, to develop in cooperation with God, and to nurture the earth according to His will and plan. Instead, they used their god-given and god-like freedom to develop in the opposite direction, with disastrous consequences for the whole creation. Even if they had not rejected their original purpose and goal, however, they could not have attained full spiritual maturity without God’s direct, Personal assistance. Christianity believes that while human cooperation and devotion is essential, it will never in itself be sufficient to fulfill all that God demands. His standards are higher than humanity can reach exclusively by their own perseverance or effort. Sin threw the whole process off track, but the incarnation, at least in the opinion of several ancient Greek saints, was part of the original divine plan all along.

Having refused to submit to God’s plan, however, human beings received the earth as His gift but exercised their dominion over it without reference to His will. Christ not only fulfills the Will of the Father, but reveals the “mystery hidden from all eternity,” namely that He is the unifying and vivifying Personal Principle from which everything and everyone derives their origin, life, and ultimate purpose. He is the logos, the Word, the Reason, the Plan and Purpose of “all things.”

Do the lilies of the field communicate a spiritual reality? Do the heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament His handiwork? Does “nature” have a spiritual importance? Yes, said the Eastern Church fourteen centuries ago. The Word of God is “embodied,” St. Maximus explained, first in the entire visible universe, then in the Holy Scriptures, and finally and most perfectly in Emmanuel, Jesus Christ, the Word made Flesh. But it is the same Logos, the same Word, the same Reason and Plan “embodied” each time. In the first “embodiment,” it is, as C.S. Lewis once wrote, as if the message were written in letters to large for us (in our fallen condition) to read. In the Old Testament law and prophets, the message becomes more intelligible and focused. And finally, in Christ, the “mystery hidden” is revealed.

Sacred Materialism

This vision, this understanding of the created universe required Eastern Christian missionaries to approach “pagan” spirituality with a good deal of openness and discernment. No, there is no god Zeus or goddess Athena, but the reverential attitude toward the sun, the sky, the earth, which these mythic deities were meant to promote can also be affirmed by the Church, once they are given their true name: Christ. He is the “Sun of the Righteous,” as the Christmas Troparion (theme hymn) proclaims. Those who worshipped the stars were taught, as the hymn continues, “by a star to adore thee…” On Epiphany, twelve days later, the faithful process to a nearby stream or seashore to perform the “Great Blessings of Water,” during which all the uses to which God has put Water in the Old Testament, and some of the prophesies about how He will continue to use it are read. These include the first creation of the world, (Genesis), the deliverance of the child Moses in the Nile, and later the Hebrew nation from Egyptian slavery by passing through the Red Sea (Exodus), Gideon’s fleece (Judges) and Elijah’s contest with the priests of Baal (I Kings) and Naaman’s cure (II Kings) as well as wonderful passages from Isaiah 12.

Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation. And in that day shall ye say, Praise the Lord, call upon His Name, declare His doings among the people… Sing unto the Lord; for He has done excellent things: this is known in all the earth.

The readings culminate with the Gospel account of Christ’s baptism, where, once again, the Spirit of God is on the face of the waters, this time to bless, renew and sanctify them, restoring them to what the whole creation was in Eden: a sign of God’s presence, power and love.

Eastern Christians believe in sacred materialism. God uses physical objects and visible elements to communicate with His People. The created universe is the means by which we enter into communion with Him. He chose food as the most perfect way by which to enter our lives. And what is the bread? Flour, yeast and water, baked to a certain temperature? No, it is much more, for to create bread, one needs the whole world. The earth must turn, the rain must fall, the soil must be fertile, the sun must shine, night must come, the wind blow. If all this is in harmony, and humans interact with it appropriately, tending the garden as God originally planned, bread can be baked, communion with God restored.

The pagans deified the fertility principle, named it Dionysius or Bacchus or a thousand other names. The wine harvest was their celebration of this life-affirming cosmic mystery. They were not entirely wrong. But they were mistaken about the identity of the Life-force they worshipped. It is all Christ. He chose to make water into wine as his first miracle, but He is always doing that, in every vineyard since time began. Some say this is merely physics and chemistry, the “laws of nature,” natural processes which operate without reference to any spiritual principle. Others say it is the work of fertility gods or goddesses who must be placated, appeased, worshipped or manipulated to assure future harvests. But for the Christian, it is all Christ, who only does the work He sees His Father do. The Word made Flesh only does in His Incarnate Form what the Word, embodied in the whole creation, has always done.

Cosmic Salvation

Orthodox Christians are not pantheists, but they are pan-en-theists. The universe, taken as a whole, is not God, but He is “everywhere present and fills all things.” It is His will, His presence, His power that creates and sustains everything and everyone at any given time. Creation is not only an event in the distant past but the reality of each passing moment. “Grace” is not a supernatural substance, “amazing” or otherwise, transmitted to the otherwise graceless world by certain religious actions or under certain liturgical circumstances, but the very energies, the action of God in the world. All is Grace.

In Alaska the Valaam monks reported that the Aleuts believed that the life force which animated the sea mammals they hunted was a sacred reality which had to be treated reverentially. Their Eskimo and Indian neighbors to the north and east shared this belief. The Church could affirm rather than condemn this humble, respectful attitude toward life, for Christ is the life of all things, not just all people. The Church blesses by putting His Name, proclaiming His sovereignty, not just over human life, but over the entire cosmos. It is at this deeper, essentially spiritual level, that the Christian Gospel, proclaimed and celebrated liturgically and sacramentally within Eastern Orthodoxy, converged with the pre-Christian spiritual tradition of ancient Alaska. Christ comes not to condemn but to save the world, and this salvation is a cosmic process inaugurated on Pentecost, continuing to the end of the age, and fulfilled only in the Second Coming, when He comes not to annihilate but to renew, purify, sanctify the world He so loves.

This is the Good News the Russian monks brought to Alaska two hundred years ago. Their message affirmed all that was “true, honest, just, pure, lovely and of good report” (Phillipians 4) and sought to introduce Christianity as the fulfillment rather than the destruction of what the people had always believed. When, thirty two years later, Father John Veniaminov and Aleut Chief Ivan Pan’kov translated the Gospel of Matthew into Aleut, literacy became a popular sensation. Literate, educated Aleuts assumed responsibility for and leadership positions in the Church decades before the sale of the Alaskan territory to the United States in 1867. Rather than casting off the supposedly “imposed” religion of their former oppressors, the Aleuts joyfully took the initiative of evangelizing Eskimo and Indian tribes on the mainland. The Alaskan Church grew from less than a dozen chapels at the time of the transfer to nearly a hundred today, thanks primarily to Aleut missionary outreach. An indigenous Alaskan Orthodox Church was born.

Identifying with, suffering with and for their flock, respecting their languages, cultural norms and ancient spirituality, educating them in the ways of the Gospel, preparing them to take responsibility for their Church all contributed to the success of the Alaskan Orthodox mission. Perhaps most importantly, however, was the theological vision and liturgical celebration of a positive experience of the created universe as fundamental to Christian spirituality. In an age where many are seeking a religious tradition that will integrate their reawakened ecological sensitivity into a comprehensive spiritual vision, Eastern Orthodoxy alone offers a Christian alternative to the various gnostic/”new age” movements which attract them in large numbers. The mission of the Church includes but also extends beyond the conversion of human persons to a liturgical/doctrinal/ethical system or code. It extends beyond the building of church structures, temples, schools, seminaries or the publishing of theological books and spiritually-oriented periodicals. It extends beyond the celebration of services, the valid administration of sacraments, beyond preaching, teaching, converting and forgiving. The mission of the Church extends to the whole created universe, to the sanctification of the cosmos in the Name of its originator, sustainer and goal, Jesus Christ who comes to “make all things new” not just at the end of time but now, here, today. That process began at the Jordan and continues in the Church after Pentecost, in all the years Anno Domini, “of the Lord.” The so-called “onion” domes on Slavic Orthodox churches have nothing to do with vegetables: they are the tongues of fire, the presence of the Holy Spirit and His Gifts in this world, renewing, blessing and transfiguring it. The mission of Orthodoxy in America and everywhere constitutes the continuation in time and space of that dynamic Sacred Presence.

To accomplish this whole, this complete, this “catholic” missionary task, our theologians must articulate the cosmic understanding, the faith and practice of the ancient undivided church in terms intelligible to people from all nations, backgrounds and all religious, non-religious and even anti-religious traditions. Our parish clergy and people must celebrate this vision with a common understanding of what their leitourgia, their work-on-behalf-of-the-world, really is: “on behalf of everyone and for every thing.” It is only with this cosmic vision, this full comprehension of what the Church is actually doing, the purpose and goal for which she exists, that all the various other educational, sacramental, liturgical, and charitable activities become worthwhile, meaningful, worthy of allegiance, dedication and sacrifice.

It was in that spirit that the first Orthodox missionaries came to Alaska two centuries ago. It is in that spirit that we, individually sinful and unworthy, must collectively, as the Holy Church, continue their work into the next millennium. There is, indeed, a plan, a purpose, a goal to the created universe, and it is all Christ. We can conform our lives to Him and thus live in harmony with that all-embracing Plan, the pre-eternal Logos or not. We will be judged accordingly. And we can include within that vision, by blessing and sanctifying it, all that was made in Him and through Him and for Him, or we can exploit, destroy, pollute and desecrate the cosmos which He so loves. And we will be judged for that as well.

2026 PASCHAL MESSAGE FROM ARCHBISHOP ALEXANDER

“So I beseech you…let us keep God’s commandments with all our might, so that we might enjoy both present and future good things, that is, the very vision of Christ. To this may we all attain by the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, unto Whom be glory unto the ages. Amen.” ~~~ Saint Symeon the New Theologian

To the Reverend Clergy, Monastics, and Faithful of the Diocese of the South:

Beloved in the Risen Lord,Pascha has come, radiant, all-joyful, and full of light. Yet, as the holy Symeon the New Theologian reminds us, this feast is not only a remembrance of what once occurred, but a mystery that is given to us now: the Resurrection of Christ is revealed, not only in the past, but within the very depths of the human heart.

For Christ is risen, not as a distant event to be admired, but as a living power to be known. He descends into the tomb of our repentance, enters into the hidden places of the soul, and raises us up with Himself. This is the true Pascha: that we who were dead through sin might live again through union with Him Who is Life.

And so the Church dares to say not “having believed,” but “having beheld the Resurrection of Christ.” For the Gospel entrusted to us is not an idea, nor an ideology, but a revelation: the light of the Risen Lord shining forth in those who, by faith and by the keeping of His commandments, come to know Him in the Holy Spirit.

This, beloved, is both our gift and our responsibility.

In these days, as our Diocese continues to grow—welcoming many from a wide range of backgrounds—we must take care that what we proclaim is nothing less than the fullness of this life in Christ. Not a reduced Gospel, not a merely cultural Orthodoxy, but the living Tradition: faith made radiant through works, doctrine inseparable from experience, the Mysteries received and lived.

For faith without this life is in danger of becoming abstract; and works without this life, mere activity. But where Christ is known, truly known, there the soul is raised, illumined, and made capable of worship “in spirit and in truth.”

Let us, then, press on, not only to celebrate Pascha, but to become Paschal people: men and women in whom Christ lives, in whom His Resurrection is manifest, in whom His light is not hidden.

And let us give thanks: for the zealous and for the weak, for those who have labored greatly and those who struggle still. The Lord, in His mercy, receives all, and calls each of us further into repentance, life, and indeed, into Himself.

May the Risen Christ, Who tramples down death by death, raise us up with Himself, grant us to behold His glory, and make of this Diocese a true witness to His Resurrection, for the life of the world.

Christ is risen! Indeed He is risen!

With love in the Risen Lord,

+Alexander
Archbishop of Dallas and the South

The Grace Of Our Powerlessness – 2026 Lenten Book Club Reflection

A key theme in Lecture 2 of our 2026 Lenten book ‘The Suffering Of The Soul In Relationships’ is the on-ramp of powerlessness to an authentic dependence on God and communion with Him. Here’s a quote from the book that captures this:

Our most important task is to look at our powerlessness, accept it, and call God and receive Him in this very powerlessness. If we understand that we cannot be good without God, then this will suddenly take the weight off of our shoulders. We don’t have to be different. We are how we are, we are just not ready. This filth within me is the place where God comes to heal me, to sanctify me. As Fr. Nicolae Steinhardt from Rohia used to say: God makes saints with “the customer’s material”. And if I don’t give Him my material, what will He do? He will let me keep my sick mind. He came to lift up the sin of the world, which means all our psychological filth. By giving Him my sin, I give Him myself. I turn myself into “prosphora” and I offer it to Him, I ask Him to make me into the human being He meant me to be. This is the permanent Liturgy where we put our offering on the altar of our heart. In the beginning, this offering is our sin. As monks say, and it is not a metaphor: “I didn’t bring anything to God except my sins”. But I give them to God. And God lifts them up, and heals me. 

Another thing that hampers our growth is that we have a wrong vision of sin. First of all, we look at sin juridically, and not as an illness. Then we are mistaken, considering that our sins are our thoughts, our words, our actions.  We confess that “we sinned by word, deed, or thought” –  which means that the word, the deed, the thought are the “flesh” of the sin, its “raw materials”, its symptoms. When we have a physical illness, we don’t say that we are sick of a headache….Sin is an illness, and this illness is within me, in my heart. If I treat the symptoms, I can die, because the illness remains unhealed. …Now I see clearly that without God, I wouldn’t be able to abandon sin. And so I feel in myself all human powerlessness, and I pray that everyone receives God’s mercy, as I received it. This is how love for enemies starts.’’ 

Saint Sophrony of Essex (†1993) taught that “the way down is the way up” by emphasizing humility and spiritual struggle. He understood and experienced the wisdom of St. Silouan direction “Keep your mind in hell and despair not”. This means that acknowledging our brokenness and descending into humility (going down) leads to finding God’s grace and resurrection (going up), a path patterned after Christ’s own descent.

St. Mary of Egypt described in this post by Father Stephen Freeman also describes accepting our powerlessness as the first step in repentance. The remainder of this article includes some supplemental materials that may be helpful to further explore this important topic.

Powerlessness; We Learn By Doing It Wrong March 23rd 2023 Daily Meditation By Richard Rohr

Richard describes the futility of trying to “fix” ourselves: 

The genius of Twelve Step programs is that they situate powerlessness and surrender right where they belong—at the beginning. They teach how sin or addiction are overcome not through willpower or by control, but much more by recognizing that we are powerless to overcome them.  

For example, we don’t become charitable by willpower, by saying to ourselves, “Be charitable!” Rather, we recognize the moments when we were totally uncharitable, and we weep over them. That doesn’t feel like power at all, does it? No one wants to go there.  

Any talk of growth, achievement, climbing, improving, and progress highly appeals to the ego. But the only way we stay on the path with any authenticity is to constantly experience our incapacity to do it, our failure at doing it. That’s what makes us, to use my language, fall upward. Otherwise, we’re really not climbing; we’re just thinking we’re climbing by saying to ourselves, “Look, I’m better today. Look, I’m holier than I was last week. Look, my prayer is improving.” That really doesn’t teach us anything or lead us anywhere new.  

In contrast, it is recognizing, “Richard, you don’t know how to love at all” that keeps me on the path of love. Constant failure at loving is ironically and paradoxically what keeps us learning how to love. When we think we’re there, there’s nothing to learn.  

This is the genius of what Paul calls “the folly of the cross” (1 Corinthians 1:18), the folly of failure: that it doesn’t give us the satisfaction that our egos want. I don’t know if I am growing. I don’t know if I am “deepening my relationship with God,” as Christians love to say. I hope I am, but any smug satisfaction in that is not going to do me any good. But every day, knowing that I have not yet begun to love? That constant experience of littleness is the Franciscan way.  

It’s also the way of one of my other favorite saints, Thérèse of Lisieux (1873–1897). She called it her “Little Way.” She makes it very clear in small examples how it was failing to love every day that kept her on the path of love. She taught that remaining close to God requires “bearing in peace the trial of not pleasing yourself.” [1] Who would have thought that? That is so counterintuitive! Yet what it reveals is that a lot of us have sought—without knowing it—a certain self-satisfaction, a certain smugness.

..I congratulate Bill Wilson and Twelve-Step spirituality, because just like Thérèse of Lisieux, they named it. They said powerlessness is the beginning of the spiritual journey.  

Regardless of the conditions we find ourselves in, we learn to navigate in the midst of our lack of control.

References: 

[1] Thérèse to Sister Geneviève, December 24, 1896, in Thérèse of Lisieux: General Correspondence, vol. 2, 1890–1897, trans. John Clarke (Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1988), 1038. 

Adapted from Richard Rohr, Breathing under Water (Albuquerque, NM: Center for Action and Contemplation), online course.  

The Grace of Powerlessness – Richard Rohr Daily Meditation July 15th 2024

I cannot understand my own behavior. I fail to carry out the very things I want to do and find myself doing the very things I hate … for although the will to do what is good is in me, the power to do it is not. —Romans 7:15, 18 

Admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable. 
—Step 1 of the Twelve Steps 

Richard affirms the essential and difficult task of admitting our own powerlessness: 

As many teachers of the Twelve Steps have said, the first Step is probably the hardest, most denied, and most avoided. Letting go isn’t in anybody’s program for happiness, and yet all mature spirituality is about letting go and unlearning.  

Jesus used the metaphors of a “grain of wheat” (John 12:24) or a “branch cut off from the vine” (John 15:2) to describe the arrogant ego. Paul used the unfortunate word “flesh,” which made most people think he was talking about the body. Yet both Jesus and Paul were pointing to the isolated and protected small self, and both said it has to go. Its concerns are too small and too selfish. An ego response is always an inadequate or even wrong response to the moment. It will not deepen or broaden life, love, or inner peace. Since it has no inner substance, our ego self is always attached to mere externals. The ego defines itself by its attachments and revulsions. The soul does not attach, nor does it hate; it desires and loves and lets go.  

What the ego hates more than anything else is to change—even when the present situation isn’t working or is horrible. Instead, we do more and more of what does not work. The reason we do anything one more time is because the last time did not really satisfy us deeply. As English poet W. H. Auden wrote, “We would rather be ruined than changed, / We would rather die in our dread / Than climb the cross of the moment / And let our illusions die.” [1]  

Rabbi Rami Shapiro names the paradox of powerlessness and surrender to God: 

The fundamental and paradoxical premise of Twelve Step recovery as I experience it is this: The more clearly you realize your lack of control, the more powerless you discover yourself to be… [and] the more natural it is for you to be surrendered to God. The more surrendered to God you become, the less you struggle against the natural flow of life. The less you struggle against the flow of life, the freer you become. Radical powerlessness is radical freedom, liberating you from the need to control the ocean of life and freeing you to learn how best to navigate it.…  

We are all addicted to control, and it is to this greater addiction that I wish to speak. The deepest truth of Step 1 requires us to admit that we are powerless over our lives, and that life itself is unmanageable. [2] 

References:  
[1] Selected from Richard Rohr, Breathing under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps, 10th anniv. ed. (Cincinnati, OH: Franciscan Media, 2011, 2021), 5–6; W. H. Auden, The Age of Anxiety: A Baroque Eclogue (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2011), 105. 

[2] Rami Shapiro, Recovery, the Sacred Art: The Twelve Steps as Spiritual Practice (Woodstock, VT: Skylight Paths, 2009), 3, 6. 

Stinking Thinking: The Universal Addiction – Daily Meditation December 9th 2019 By Richard Rohr

The addiction and overdose crisis . . . does not so much reflect moral failings of individuals as it does reveal a sickness that has infected the country and our collective consciousness. —Timothy McMahan King [1]

Tim King fairly attributes the United States’ epidemic of addiction to “the failures of religion and of an anemic spirituality.” [2] Thankfully, I believe the Twelve-Step programs are a movement of the Spirit in our time. In creating Alcoholics Anonymous in 1935, Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith, with typical American pragmatism, designed a truly practical program that really worked to change lives. Twelve-Step spirituality rediscovered the real transformative power in the spirituality of imperfection. Transformation has little to do with intelligence, willpower, or perfection. It has everything to do with honest humility, willingness, and surrender.

Here are four assumptions that I am making about addiction:

1. We are all addicts. Human beings are addictive by nature. King writes: “The question for each of us is not whether we are addicted but how we are addicted, and to what.Denial of the existence of addiction in your life is not a mark of moral accomplishment but a sign of blindness.” [3] Addiction is a modern name and honest description for what the biblical tradition called “sin” and medieval Christians called “passions” or “attachments.” They both recognized that serious measures or practices were needed to break us out of these illusions and entrapments.

2. “Stinking thinking” is the universal addiction. Substance addictions like alcohol and drugs are merely the most visible form of addiction, but we are addicted to our own habitual way of thinking and doing. These attachments are at first hidden to us. We cannot heal what we do not first acknowledge. We are all addicted to our own habitual way of doing anything, our own defenses, and, most especially, our patterned way of thinking, or how we process reality. The very fact that we have to say this shows how little we see it. By definition, we can never see or handle what we are addicted to. It is always “hidden” and disguised as something else. 

3. All societies are addicted to themselves and create deep codependency. There are shared and agreed-upon addictions in every culture and every institution. These are often the hardest to heal because they do not look like addictions—because we have all agreed to be compulsive about the same things and blind to the same problems.

4. Some form of alternative consciousness is the only freedom from this self and from cultural lies. Contemplation teaches us how to observe our own small mind and, frankly, to see how inadequate it is to the task in front of us. As Eckhart Tolle says, 98% of human thought is “repetitive and pointless.” How humiliating is that? When we see how self-serving, how petty, how narcissistic, and how compulsive our thinking is, we realize how trapped and unfree we truly are. We might even call it “possessed.”

In the Desert of the Heart By Paul Kingnorth

For see, you were inside, and I was outside, but I sought you there. Unlovely, I rushed without thinking among the things of beauty you made. You were with me, but I was not with you.’

St Augustine of Hippo

Sometimes it is difficult for me to write anything, because all I want to do is to be quiet. I have wanted this for years, and sometimes I achieve it, but it is fleeting. Maybe less fleeting by the year, though. Maybe the pull is growing, and the will and the ability. Growing slowly, like moss on a stone.

‘If anyone wants to learn the will of God’ said the Russian Orthodox priest Father Alexander Men, in one of his Lenten sermons¹, ‘let him seek silence.’ Christians have known this forever. They have fled to deserts and caves, monasteries and sketes. They have taken up residence on the tops of pillars and in the boles of hollow trees. They knew that the voice of God was both still and small² and could only be heard in silence, would only settle in a peaceful heart. 

Silence – or at least, quiet; peace – is the natural environment of the Spirit of God, it seems, and we live in the world which appears purposefully designed to make this a great struggle. The roar of traffic, the planes crossing the skies, the hum of the electric wires, the black rectangles in our pockets which fragment our attention, stimulate our passions and take us anywhere but the place where we stand. Whatever the world is it makes silence, or even quiet, almost an impossibility. That means we cannot hear God. And when we cannot hear God, we are lost.

Most of us will never get the opportunity to live in the bole of a hollow tree, and probably wouldn’t much like it if we did. But it is possible to be distracted by outward appearances. If you live in the middle of a city, a desert or a forest may seem an attractive haven of peace, but of course it is possible to flee to the wilderness and take your restless, neurotic, world-tangled heart with you. Probably it is quite common. Silence, a peaceful heart, the landing strip of the Holy Spirit, is not achieved simply by fleeing external noise, though this certainly helps. Most of the noise comes from within.

Last Sunday was the second Sunday of Lent in the Orthodox Church. Each Lenten Sunday is built around a different theme, usually around one of the Church Fathers or a story from the Gospels, each designed to take us deeper into what is sometimes called the ‘bright sadness’ of the Lenten descent. The second Sunday is dedicated to the memory of St Gregory Palamas, the fourteenth-century monk who is celebrated in the Orthodox Church for his defence of the spiritual tradition of ‘hesychasm’, which today forms the core of the contemplative spirituality of the Christian East. 

Hesychasm is one of those Greek words often encountered in Christian Orthodoxy which has no direct English translation; it is usually rendered as ‘stillness’. Hesychastic prayer is the pursuit of inner stillness, not for its own sake, but because this is the opening move of the entire purpose of Orthodox Christian spirituality, which is to seek theosis. This is another one of those Greek words, usually translated as ‘union with God.’ Theosis, according to the hesychasts, is achieved in silence, through solitary prayer and living, the aim of which is to offer up a peaceful heart for the Holy Spirit to dwell within. ‘The Holy Spirit is extremely meek,” wrote the Coptic monk Matthew the Poor. ‘He finds no rest in cries and confusion, or in a heart that is cruel, unjust, wrathful, irascible, or proud.’³ Hesychasm seeks to create the conditions for the Spirit to settle in our hearts; something He can only do if our hearts are at peace. 

St Gregory Palamas is celebrated for the intellectual battle he waged in the early 1300s with an Italian Orthodox monk named Barlaam, who had visited Mount Athos, seen the practice of hesychasm at first hand and been scandalised by it. Barlaam, it is said, had been trained in the Western Scholastic tradition, and was horrified by what today he might call the ‘woo’ of Eastern Christian mysticism. He nicknamed the hesychasts omphaloscopoi, our third Greek word of the day, which translates as ‘navel gazers’. Barlaam thought that the hesychasts were deluded and blasphemous; a position I still hear occasionally today from some Protestants. St Gregory took him on, and his defence of hesychasm won the day in the East. In the process, he helped cement its place at the heart of Orthodox spirituality, where it remains today.

The practice most commonly associated with the hesychastic tradition is that of the Jesus Prayer, which all Orthodox Christians – and plenty of non-Orthodox ones for that matter – are familiar with, and which many of us practice daily, either in the boles of trees or in suburban homes before work or after dinner. It is not, of course, necessary to live in a desert or on Mount Athos to pursue inner silence, though again it may help. It is probably not true that it can be found as easily in the midst of a megacity as it can in a forest, at least for most of us: the temptations, and the distractions, are simply greater, which is why people flee in the first place. Still, the principle is clear, and is much enunciated by the Fathers of the Christian Church: the Spirit of God will only settle in a peaceful heart. Outer peace makes it easier to achieve inner peace, but it doesn’t create it. Inner peace is achievable in central London, just as neurotic self-obsession is possible in a desert cave. 


This subject has obsessed me for years: the subject of silence, of stillness. I once wrote a book about the need to pursue it, and the difficulty of pursuing it as a writer. That book, Savage Gods, was a work of neurotic self-obsession if ever there was one, but it worried away at a question that had grown in me for years. It first arose, I think, when I began practicing Chan Buddhism at the age of forty: a practice which turned out to be a gateway drug to Eastern Christianity, just as soon as I was able to ask Christ to open the gate for me. Buddhism, like hesychasm, begins with the search for inner stillness, which it sees as a necessary precursor to understanding the delusions we tend to call ‘reality.’ This is entirely in accordance with Christian teaching, and indeed with modern understandings of human psychology. 

The thing is, once you begin to examine those delusions, you see that one of the most pernicious is the construction of a self-identity. This is necessary to survive in the world, probably, but soon enough it becomes a yoke around the neck. This construction labelled ‘Paul Kingsnorth’, for example, now has a public reputation as a writer with certain opinions and a particular history. His future work, and indeed his income, is in some way reliant on keeping this fiction going. It is not a ‘fiction’ in the sense of it being a deliberate falsehood, but it is a construction, which means it is a story, which means that the actual me has ended up stuck inside it, as well do with our stories in the end. 

Things are particularly bad for this ‘Paul Kingsnorth’ character, because he makes his living writing articles like this one. Not only does he need to do this to eat, but more existentially, he has written for so long that he now sees the world almost entirely through the lens of the written word. Even if he wasn’t getting paid to write things down, he would be writing them down anyway, which would just continue to encrust the artificial world around the artificial self, and make it harder to escape from both.

Whether we are writers or not, we create these personal fictions we call ‘identities’, and the older we get, the harder it is for that simple, primal stillness which is the precursor to true prayer to break back through. Back when I practiced Buddhism, I remember seeing with crystal clarity, at a level far deeper than the intellect, that if I wanted to progress spiritually I had to stop pumping out all these words. This was not because language itself was inherently bad – it is hardly avoidable – but because of something at once fuzzier and clearer, which even now I find it hard to explain. It was that words were part of the fiction of the world. It was so clear then – and it remains clear now – that spiritual progress, that work of theosis, requires us to drop all of our illusions. To smash through the cement of words and concepts and identities and opinions. To see ourselves naked before God. To make ourselves simple again.


Jesus, in more than one of the Gospels, talks about children, and what they have to teach us. In Luke’s Gospel⁴, when the disciples attempt to shoo away groups of parents who want him to bless their babies, Jesus rounds on them. ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them’, he says, ‘for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’

In Matthew’s Gospel, meanwhile, the disciples are jostling amongst themselves to achieve Jesus’s favour – or perhaps they are just anxious for some clear guidance. ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ they ask Him.⁵ In response, Jesus calls a child over to them. ‘Truly I tell you,’ he says, ‘unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.’

The ‘kingdom of heaven’, then, belongs to those who ‘become like little children’. In fact, unless we ‘change’, and learn to ‘receive the kingdom of God like a little child’, we will ‘never enter it.’ Jesus says this twice, and very emphatically. What does it mean?

Simplify, I think. To become childlike means to return again to the state in which God created us. To drop those self-created ‘personalities’. Children do not have strong opinions about the world. They do not – yet – have self-created egos which will trap them. They tend to move through the world wide-eyed, and to accept its magic. To become like a child is also to become like the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, a pair of striking images which Jesus uses elsewhere to urge his followers away from complexity and towards simplicity;⁶ away from words and towards experience; away from noise and towards silence. 

I have been struck repeatedly over the years by the fact that some of my favourite Christian saints were ‘uneducated’ people, in the world’s terms. The holiest of them, those who practiced straightforward Christian love with no frills, so often seem to have barely attended school. Some of them could barely read. I don’t think this is a coincidence. 


In his little book Do You Know Yourself?⁷, a collection of talks on Christianity and psychology, the late Fr Symeon Kragiopoulos, a Greek Bishop with a reputation as a ‘profound anatomist of the soul’, anatomises those of us who have what he calls ‘complications’ within: a description which I would guess applies to most modern people, and perhaps most pre-modern ones as well. ‘Someone who has complications within him, who has been blocked internally … can’t live the spiritual life,’ he writes, starkly. 

‘The harm that has happened to humanity,’ he goes on to say, ‘and particularly to contemporary humanity – that is, to us – it’s so great that in our effort to disentangle the complications that exist inside us we tangle them up even more.’ Humans, he says, begin life with ‘this blue sky in their souls, this clear heaven, this purity and holiness.’ In the beginning we are children, as Jesus tells his disciples to be again. But we complicate everything as we grow, with our stories, with our egotistic scrabbling, with all the stuff of life from which there is no escape. We build necessary shells to protect ourselves, and ‘the heaven of [our] souls is clouded and darkened.’ This is what it means to be ‘Fallen.’ 

What can help us, then? Christianity we say – if we are Christians, that is – but Fr Symeon is not convinced. ‘I’d dare to say that even Christianity is getting tangled up inside us and is itself getting mixed up,’ he says. Those of us who call ourselves ‘Christians’ do not have the simple, childlike souls we are called to embrace. ‘In the final analysis,’ he says, ‘while a person is Christian, while he believes in the Gospel, while he believes in Jesus Christ, while he confesses and receives communion, he is blocked.’ The blockage comes from the fact that so many of us are influenced more by ‘the spirit of western Christianity, which we perhaps call Christian civilisation, than by the Christianity of the Gospel and the Fathers, by that Christianity that really redeems a human being, that cleanses man and releases him from all those parasites and from all those pitfalls and makes it pure and clean.’


All of which, I suppose, takes us back to where we started: the silence. I have just written 2,500 words of noise to try and get at the matter of silence, and of course have not achieved it, because it is not achieved this way. Lent is a strange journey of deepening: I have learned this very slowly over the years. I am far from being any kind of ascetic, and my Lenten discipline regularly disappoints me, but even so, something seems to happen every year. This year, I have not wanted to say much for weeks. Even when I write, I write about silence. Something is calling me away. I am still not sure where to go, or how.

It took me a long time as a Christian to even begin to understand that much of the work, at least for beginners, is simply in shutting up. There is no point in worrying about whether you are silent or childlike or holy enough, or in trying to make yourself some kind of holy ascetic through force of will. Force of will doesn’t get you that far. You can run off to the forest or the desert if you like: some people are called to that life and some people are not. But we are all called to make a desert of our hearts. The Holy Spirit will alight there, we are told, when it finds a peace to welcome it. 

However, we do it, so much of the work, I think now, is struggling to allow silence a place to grow. When we do that, much of our overcomplicated, worldly nonsense just falls away, even if only for a second. The cement cracks, our stories shatter, and we begin to see how to walk away from ourselves. In the silence, perhaps we discover how to be children again.

Father Symeon should have the last word, I think, because I have written too many already:

‘Spiritual work happens secretly in the heart. Externally, let everything else threaten us. Like the sea: The wind blows, waves rise. But deep down it’s all quiet, peaceful, serene.

This is how a man who trusts in God lives. There might be a wild rage out there, but deep down nothing hinders the soul from having a mystical communion with God, a mystical love for God. Quietly and mystically, in a special way that the heart perceives, the Lord is whispering: “Don’t be afraid. I am here. Keep walking this path. Keep loving me, keep believing in me, keep following me”.

It’s not enough to suffer myriad things in life. When, though, you believe in God and accept all these – whatever it is that happens to you – gladly, for the love of God, God will make a saint out of you.’⁸


1

Fr Men’s Lenten homilies are collected in Awake To Life, published in 1996 by Oakwood Publications, California

2

1 Kings 19:12

3

Quoted from Guidelines For Prayer by Matthew the Poor, St Macarius Press, 2021

4

Luke 18:15

5

Matthew 18:1 – 5

6

Matthew 6:26 – 34

7

Published by Divine Ascent Press, California, in 2010.

8

‘Christians of Comfort.’ https://www.orthodoxpath.org/spiritual-life/christians-of-comfort/

u were inside, and I was outside, but I sought you there. Unlovely, I rushed without thinking among the things of beauty you made. You were with me, but I was not with you.’

St Augustine of Hippo

Sometimes it is difficult for me to write anything, because all I want to do is to be quiet. I have wanted this for years, and sometimes I achieve it, but it is fleeting. Maybe less fleeting by the year, though. Maybe the pull is growing, and the will and the ability. Growing slowly, like moss on a stone.

‘If anyone wants to learn the will of God’ said the Russian Orthodox priest Father Alexander Men, in one of his Lenten sermons¹, ‘let him seek silence.’ Christians have known this forever. They have fled to deserts and caves, monasteries and sketes. They have taken up residence on the tops of pillars and in the boles of hollow trees. They knew that the voice of God was both still and small² and could only be heard in silence, would only settle in a peaceful heart. 

Silence – or at least, quiet; peace – is the natural environment of the Spirit of God, it seems, and we live in the world which appears purposefully designed to make this a great struggle. The roar of traffic, the planes crossing the skies, the hum of the electric wires, the black rectangles in our pockets which fragment our attention, stimulate our passions and take us anywhere but the place where we stand. Whatever the world is it makes silence, or even quiet, almost an impossibility. That means we cannot hear God. And when we cannot hear God, we are lost.

Most of us will never get the opportunity to live in the bole of a hollow tree, and probably wouldn’t much like it if we did. But it is possible to be distracted by outward appearances. If you live in the middle of a city, a desert or a forest may seem an attractive haven of peace, but of course it is possible to flee to the wilderness and take your restless, neurotic, world-tangled heart with you. Probably it is quite common. Silence, a peaceful heart, the landing strip of the Holy Spirit, is not achieved simply by fleeing external noise, though this certainly helps. Most of the noise comes from within.

Last Sunday was the second Sunday of Lent in the Orthodox Church. Each Lenten Sunday is built around a different theme, usually around one of the Church Fathers or a story from the Gospels, each designed to take us deeper into what is sometimes called the ‘bright sadness’ of the Lenten descent. The second Sunday is dedicated to the memory of St Gregory Palamas, the fourteenth-century monk who is celebrated in the Orthodox Church for his defence of the spiritual tradition of ‘hesychasm’, which today forms the core of the contemplative spirituality of the Christian East. 

Hesychasm is one of those Greek words often encountered in Christian Orthodoxy which has no direct English translation; it is usually rendered as ‘stillness’. Hesychastic prayer is the pursuit of inner stillness, not for its own sake, but because this is the opening move of the entire purpose of Orthodox Christian spirituality, which is to seek theosis. This is another one of those Greek words, usually translated as ‘union with God.’ Theosis, according to the hesychasts, is achieved in silence, through solitary prayer and living, the aim of which is to offer up a peaceful heart for the Holy Spirit to dwell within. ‘The Holy Spirit is extremely meek,” wrote the Coptic monk Matthew the Poor. ‘He finds no rest in cries and confusion, or in a heart that is cruel, unjust, wrathful, irascible, or proud.’³ Hesychasm seeks to create the conditions for the Spirit to settle in our hearts; something He can only do if our hearts are at peace. 

St Gregory Palamas is celebrated for the intellectual battle he waged in the early 1300s with an Italian Orthodox monk named Barlaam, who had visited Mount Athos, seen the practice of hesychasm at first hand and been scandalised by it. Barlaam, it is said, had been trained in the Western Scholastic tradition, and was horrified by what today he might call the ‘woo’ of Eastern Christian mysticism. He nicknamed the hesychasts omphaloscopoi, our third Greek word of the day, which translates as ‘navel gazers’. Barlaam thought that the hesychasts were deluded and blasphemous; a position I still hear occasionally today from some Protestants. St Gregory took him on, and his defence of hesychasm won the day in the East. In the process, he helped cement its place at the heart of Orthodox spirituality, where it remains today.

The practice most commonly associated with the hesychastic tradition is that of the Jesus Prayer, which all Orthodox Christians – and plenty of non-Orthodox ones for that matter – are familiar with, and which many of us practice daily, either in the boles of trees or in suburban homes before work or after dinner. It is not, of course, necessary to live in a desert or on Mount Athos to pursue inner silence, though again it may help. It is probably not true that it can be found as easily in the midst of a megacity as it can in a forest, at least for most of us: the temptations, and the distractions, are simply greater, which is why people flee in the first place. Still, the principle is clear, and is much enunciated by the Fathers of the Christian Church: the Spirit of God will only settle in a peaceful heart. Outer peace makes it easier to achieve inner peace, but it doesn’t create it. Inner peace is achievable in central London, just as neurotic self-obsession is possible in a desert cave. 


This subject has obsessed me for years: the subject of silence, of stillness. I once wrote a book about the need to pursue it, and the difficulty of pursuing it as a writer. That book, Savage Gods, was a work of neurotic self-obsession if ever there was one, but it worried away at a question that had grown in me for years. It first arose, I think, when I began practicing Chan Buddhism at the age of forty: a practice which turned out to be a gateway drug to Eastern Christianity, just as soon as I was able to ask Christ to open the gate for me. Buddhism, like hesychasm, begins with the search for inner stillness, which it sees as a necessary precursor to understanding the delusions we tend to call ‘reality.’ This is entirely in accordance with Christian teaching, and indeed with modern understandings of human psychology. 

The thing is, once you begin to examine those delusions, you see that one of the most pernicious is the construction of a self-identity. This is necessary to survive in the world, probably, but soon enough it becomes a yoke around the neck. This construction labelled ‘Paul Kingsnorth’, for example, now has a public reputation as a writer with certain opinions and a particular history. His future work, and indeed his income, is in some way reliant on keeping this fiction going. It is not a ‘fiction’ in the sense of it being a deliberate falsehood, but it is a construction, which means it is a story, which means that the actual me has ended up stuck inside it, as well do with our stories in the end. 

Things are particularly bad for this ‘Paul Kingsnorth’ character, because he makes his living writing articles like this one. Not only does he need to do this to eat, but more existentially, he has written for so long that he now sees the world almost entirely through the lens of the written word. Even if he wasn’t getting paid to write things down, he would be writing them down anyway, which would just continue to encrust the artificial world around the artificial self, and make it harder to escape from both.

Whether we are writers or not, we create these personal fictions we call ‘identities’, and the older we get, the harder it is for that simple, primal stillness which is the precursor to true prayer to break back through. Back when I practiced Buddhism, I remember seeing with crystal clarity, at a level far deeper than the intellect, that if I wanted to progress spiritually I had to stop pumping out all these words. This was not because language itself was inherently bad – it is hardly avoidable – but because of something at once fuzzier and clearer, which even now I find it hard to explain. It was that words were part of the fiction of the world. It was so clear then – and it remains clear now – that spiritual progress, that work of theosis, requires us to drop all of our illusions. To smash through the cement of words and concepts and identities and opinions. To see ourselves naked before God. To make ourselves simple again.


Jesus, in more than one of the Gospels, talks about children, and what they have to teach us. In Luke’s Gospel⁴, when the disciples attempt to shoo away groups of parents who want him to bless their babies, Jesus rounds on them. ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them’, he says, ‘for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’

In Matthew’s Gospel, meanwhile, the disciples are jostling amongst themselves to achieve Jesus’s favour – or perhaps they are just anxious for some clear guidance. ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ they ask Him.⁵ In response, Jesus calls a child over to them. ‘Truly I tell you,’ he says, ‘unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.’

The ‘kingdom of heaven’, then, belongs to those who ‘become like little children’. In fact, unless we ‘change’, and learn to ‘receive the kingdom of God like a little child’, we will ‘never enter it.’ Jesus says this twice, and very emphatically. What does it mean?

Simplify, I think. To become childlike means to return again to the state in which God created us. To drop those self-created ‘personalities’. Children do not have strong opinions about the world. They do not – yet – have self-created egos which will trap them. They tend to move through the world wide-eyed, and to accept its magic. To become like a child is also to become like the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, a pair of striking images which Jesus uses elsewhere to urge his followers away from complexity and towards simplicity;⁶ away from words and towards experience; away from noise and towards silence. 

I have been struck repeatedly over the years by the fact that some of my favourite Christian saints were ‘uneducated’ people, in the world’s terms. The holiest of them, those who practiced straightforward Christian love with no frills, so often seem to have barely attended school. Some of them could barely read. I don’t think this is a coincidence. 


In his little book Do You Know Yourself?⁷, a collection of talks on Christianity and psychology, the late Fr Symeon Kragiopoulos, a Greek Bishop with a reputation as a ‘profound anatomist of the soul’, anatomises those of us who have what he calls ‘complications’ within: a description which I would guess applies to most modern people, and perhaps most pre-modern ones as well. ‘Someone who has complications within him, who has been blocked internally … can’t live the spiritual life,’ he writes, starkly. 

‘The harm that has happened to humanity,’ he goes on to say, ‘and particularly to contemporary humanity – that is, to us – it’s so great that in our effort to disentangle the complications that exist inside us we tangle them up even more.’ Humans, he says, begin life with ‘this blue sky in their souls, this clear heaven, this purity and holiness.’ In the beginning we are children, as Jesus tells his disciples to be again. But we complicate everything as we grow, with our stories, with our egotistic scrabbling, with all the stuff of life from which there is no escape. We build necessary shells to protect ourselves, and ‘the heaven of [our] souls is clouded and darkened.’ This is what it means to be ‘Fallen.’ 

What can help us, then? Christianity we say – if we are Christians, that is – but Fr Symeon is not convinced. ‘I’d dare to say that even Christianity is getting tangled up inside us and is itself getting mixed up,’ he says. Those of us who call ourselves ‘Christians’ do not have the simple, childlike souls we are called to embrace. ‘In the final analysis,’ he says, ‘while a person is Christian, while he believes in the Gospel, while he believes in Jesus Christ, while he confesses and receives communion, he is blocked.’ The blockage comes from the fact that so many of us are influenced more by ‘the spirit of western Christianity, which we perhaps call Christian civilisation, than by the Christianity of the Gospel and the Fathers, by that Christianity that really redeems a human being, that cleanses man and releases him from all those parasites and from all those pitfalls and makes it pure and clean.’


All of which, I suppose, takes us back to where we started: the silence. I have just written 2,500 words of noise to try and get at the matter of silence, and of course have not achieved it, because it is not achieved this way. Lent is a strange journey of deepening: I have learned this very slowly over the years. I am far from being any kind of ascetic, and my Lenten discipline regularly disappoints me, but even so, something seems to happen every year. This year, I have not wanted to say much for weeks. Even when I write, I write about silence. Something is calling me away. I am still not sure where to go, or how.

It took me a long time as a Christian to even begin to understand that much of the work, at least for beginners, is simply in shutting up. There is no point in worrying about whether you are silent or childlike or holy enough, or in trying to make yourself some kind of holy ascetic through force of will. Force of will doesn’t get you that far. You can run off to the forest or the desert if you like: some people are called to that life and some people are not. But we are all called to make a desert of our hearts. The Holy Spirit will alight there, we are told, when it finds a peace to welcome it. 

However, we do it, so much of the work, I think now, is struggling to allow silence a place to grow. When we do that, much of our overcomplicated, worldly nonsense just falls away, even if only for a second. The cement cracks, our stories shatter, and we begin to see how to walk away from ourselves. In the silence, perhaps we discover how to be children again.

Father Symeon should have the last word, I think, because I have written too many already:

‘Spiritual work happens secretly in the heart. Externally, let everything else threaten us. Like the sea: The wind blows, waves rise. But deep down it’s all quiet, peaceful, serene.

This is how a man who trusts in God lives. There might be a wild rage out there, but deep down nothing hinders the soul from having a mystical communion with God, a mystical love for God. Quietly and mystically, in a special way that the heart perceives, the Lord is whispering: “Don’t be afraid. I am here. Keep walking this path. Keep loving me, keep believing in me, keep following me”.

It’s not enough to suffer myriad things in life. When, though, you believe in God and accept all these – whatever it is that happens to you – gladly, for the love of God, God will make a saint out of you.’⁸


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1

Fr Men’s Lenten homilies are collected in Awake To Life, published in 1996 by Oakwood Publications, California

2

1 Kings 19:12

3

Quoted from Guidelines For Prayer by Matthew the Poor, St Macarius Press, 2021

4

Luke 18:15

5

Matthew 18:1 – 5

6

Matthew 6:26 – 34

7

Published by Divine Ascent Press, California, in 2010.

8

‘Christians of Comfort.’ https://www.orthodoxpath.org/spiritual-life/christians-of-comfort/

The Suffering Of The Soul In Relationships – God, Where Is The Wound? Healing Remedies For Today’s World By Schemanun Siluana Vlad

As many of you know from our very recent annual parish meeting, we are reading this book ‘God, Where Is The Wound’ in various small groups during Lent,2026. I’ve chosen one of her three lectures to share with you. I was especially inspired by this talk which is referred to as Lecture II in the book. My hope is that sharing this will encourage more of us to participate in these book discussions during Lent.

You can get the full Kindle version of this book by clicking here. Below is the text for this talk which is entitled ‘The Suffering Of The Soul In Relationships”.


Eparchial Assembly – Nuremberg, Germany, 2012

His Eminence Serafim, Metropolitan for the Romanian Orthodox Archdiocese of Germany and Central and Northern Europe:

We welcome Mother Siluana, it is a great honor and a great help to have her with us today. God, bless her and give her words full of power! Please pay attention, Mother Siluana’s speech is quite rapid and dense, as it was last night, so it’s not easy to follow and understand it – but if we make an effort to focus our attention, we will understand and benefit greatly from it. And most of all, we will understand Mother Siluana’s spirit.

Mother Siluana: I prayed so I could speak more slowly and more clearly.

His Eminence Serafim: Good, very good.

Mother Siluana:

Last night my thought was to focus more on the effects of our ill relationships on the body. Today I would like to talk about the suffering of the soul in relationships. If our soul is ill, our relationships will also be ill. Therefore, if we take care of the health of our souls, we will have healthy relationships.

Many people believe they will be happy if the government will change, or the president, or the world, or the people close to them. And they believe this very sincerely. Yes, something can indeed change to good if something bad gets annihilated, but I can be just as unhappy in this new situation. Why? Because the source of joy, the source of health is within me, within us. It is never outside of me.

We all want to be happy, we ask others to make us happy, to do something for us, to help us become happy. And we are even convinced that they must take care of our happiness. But because not everybody wants to do this, or they do something else than what we want, this gives us cause to complain that we are not happy. This is something we learn in our families, when, as children, we are dependent on our parents.

Yes, children are dependent on their parents, their joy and their health are dependent on the parents. But gradually, as they grow up and become more mature, they become their own masters and realize that they want a different “happiness” than the one offered to them by their parents. This is the process through which they become independent. It is a troubled and tormenting stage called adolescence. It is a stage necessary for becoming mature, during which the children “abandon their parents” – but, when they do it without God, this abandonment will be chaotic, driven by impulses suggested by the models of this world, centered on seeking pleasure, power, and money.

If adolescents stay or enter into a living relationship with God and have living models in their families and Church, only then will they attain the autonomy in which they will learn and want to give themselves freely to God as the source of their joy, and not as an external authority which commands them what to do and what not to do.

It is very important for adolescents not to project the authority of their parents on God. God is not a parent who tells you: “If you don’t behave, I won’t love you anymore!” He is not an external authority, He is Someone perceived by our spirit as an internal loving power. He is Someone who loves us deep within us and gives us all the joy and health we need. With one condition: we need to go into those depths.

Yes, the condition is for us to go within ourselves, to that place where God is in us. But how many of us have learned this in our family or our parish? Or at the Theological Seminary? We know and we believe that by uniting the mind with the heart, by going deep within ourselves, we find that joy that cannot be taken away from us – but we don’t know how to go there, deep within. Because of this, our heart remains sick and many times opposes our rational decision of becoming good Christians.

Yes, unfortunately not only relationships in the world are ill, but also relationships in the Church. They are and they will be ill as long as we are and will remain ill.

I don’t want to talk now about passions as illnesses of the soul and of the havoc they cause in our relationships. You know these things very well and you struggle with them internally and externally. I will only try to point out some aspects of our day-to-day world that generate and maintain a great number of psychological illnesses.

– First of all, I would like us to understand that much of our unhappiness stems from conflicts caused by the orientation of our interests. Relationship experts say that people come into conflict in their relationships because they are centered differently: some are centered on goals, some on persons. What’s more, people can be egoistic or altruistic. What is certain is that these orientations dictate our behavior which will then generate conflicts when we live or work with people who are centered differently from us. The Lord teaches us about this aspect when He says that where our treasure is, our heart will be also. That is, where my treasure is, that’s where my interest will be – and my heart is and always will be bonded with my interests.

Let’s start from what I mentioned before: some people are focused on a goal or a task, and others are focused on a person. We have a task to do: some people consider that we must accomplish that task no matter what – whether we think we can do it or not, we keep our focus on the task. Some other people are centered on the person: “Look, that man over there is tired, maybe he’s sick, he needs a little attention – we need to think of people too!” Then the people who are centered on the task, on “let’s do this!”, get into a conflict with those centered on the person, on “look at him, he can’t work anymore, he needs some rest!”

Also, the one who wants to get the job done may be selfish – he does it for money, for a reward, or praise. Or maybe he is altruistic – he wants to do it for the benefit of somebody else. The one centered on the person may be selfish, wishing to seem like a good person, or to “look good” to the one he is defending…Or he may be altruistic – he truly cares about the other’s suffering. But again selfish, because he is not thinking about the people who need that task to be done. You see how difficult it is to harmonize such a team…

Now, starting from this model, let’s look a little at “our backyard”, at our parish. The Church is the only place and way of life in which all activity is meant to be centered on the person: on God and our neighbor. Any word, thought, or deed which is not centered on loving God or our neighbor – and thus on the person – is a sin. And we forget this in the whirlwind of our life. We build churches, we establish missions, we serve just for the sake of meeting some goals. We forget about God and our neighbor.

And what is even sadder is that we forget about the people closest to us. I was very happy when I found out about a priest who built a church together with his whole family – and at the same time, his family was a small church in itself. Unfortunately, I have met many priests who built churches, created missions, while at the same time they had serious problems in their families, with their wives, but especially with their children.

I will give you an example out of my own heart – my first spiritual Father, my dear Fr. Galeriu. I was once at his house for his birthday – there were several of us there, spiritual sons and daughters of his, together with his four sons. And at some point, one of his sons starts yelling at us as Fr. Galeriu’s spiritual children: “I hate you! I hate all of you! All of you debauched, thieves – and my father loves you so much, he falls on his knees, cries and prays for you, and he never once held me on his knees!” We all knew how much Fr. Galeriu loved his children. I think they knew too. But this child needed his time with his father, needed that love which is transmitted by holding someone in your arms, on your knees…

Many parents say today: “I don’t know what is going on with my child! I don’t recognize him anymore!” And I ask them: have you really known him, or have you just imagined him the way you wanted him to be? A very good priest came to me once (he was also doing counseling work in the areas of education and mission work) and told me that his daughter, who was in second grade, “is very naughty: she leaves her socks in the silverware drawer, she leaves her underwear on my desk, she is behaving very strangely. I brought her to a psychologist, then to a psychiatrist, and they said there is nothing wrong with her. And I don’t know what to do with her. I brought her to you, maybe you can find a solution…”

I listened to the priest, then I listened to the little girl, then I asked her: “What would you like your dad to do so you make peace with him? Or what would you do if you were the boss of the family so that it would be good for your child?” To our surprise, she said: “A meeting!” And I asked her: “What do you mean, a meeting?” She replied: “Yes, a meeting, so I can get a chance to talk too. So I can talk and so I can be heard too!” I turned to the father and said: “Father, do you listen to her?” He said: “Mother Siluana, I don’t listen to her too much, because she is talking nonsense! I ask her about what they did in Science in school and she tells me what little Johnny or little Billy said! I am not interested and I don’t have time to listen to what Johnny or Billy said!” I told him: “Well, her life is full of Billy! Her life is full of lego games, of the teddy bear who broke his paw…”

If parents have their interests in mind when looking after their children, the children will not be seen as living human beings. If a parent goes into a child’s room and starts yelling: “What is this mess? You’ll never amount to anything! What are all these toys doing all over the place?” and then the parent starts “lovingly” putting everything in good order for “this child who never wants to learn good from bad”, then the child will experience a real tragedy. There, in that mess, was that child’s life: there were traffic accidents there, there was a sick person there waiting for the ambulance, the teddy bear was looking for a honey pot that could only be found in that room…and mom comes and throws all these things around without understanding seeing or understanding anything!

Children need to be sought and found right where they are – in their reality. Parents trample over their children with their own adult minds and feelings. If a child says: “I’m afraid!”, a loving parent can say: “there is nothing to be afraid about!” and if the parent is more attentive, he can ask: “What are you afraid of?”. And the child can say: “There is a crocodile under my bed!” Then, if the parent is task-oriented (“my child needs to go to sleep”), he can tell the child: “Are you crazy? What can a crocodile do under your bed! Go to sleep now!”. This way, the child can form the impression that he is crazy.

Another way – centered on the task of teaching the child – would be to tell the child: “No, darling, let mom show you there is no crocodile under the bed. Look, we have a flashlight here and we can look together under the bed – see, there is no crocodile!” In this case, the child can start thinking he is not normal, since he is afraid, but there is nothing to be afraid of – because there is no crocodile under his bed.

But if the mother can focus on the child’s person, on the child’s feelings and experience, she can go to the child’s level and ask: “Well, if there was a crocodile under your bed, what could it do to you?” “It could bite me!” “And if it bit you, what would happen?” “I will go to the hospital!” “And if you went to the hospital, what could happen there?” “I could die!” “And if you would die, what would happen?” “I would go in the hole like grandpa!”

In fact, the child’s grandfather had passed away not too long before, and the child, who faced death for the first time, was unsettled, needed to process and integrate in his mind this situation…But in the mind of a five- or six-year-old child, this integration happens through scenarios, through stories, and not through logical explanations and ideas.

Another source of unhappiness in our relationships is love. Yes, yes – love! We all want to be loved and to love. Many people believe they are focused on love, meaning on the person of the other. “I do this thing for you!” or “Mother Siluana, I have three jobs so that my wife and kids don’t lack anything!” And I ask the children and the wife when they come to me for counseling: “What do you lack in this situation?” “Our dad, my husband…He is never with us, and when he comes home, he is very tired. And when he is not tired, he watches TV. He is never with us.”

Why do you think that man has three jobs? Don’t you think he wants to “run away” from his family? Even if his choice is unconscious, that is the reason. He runs away from them – from them as living human beings. He runs away from himself. He doesn’t know what to do with his children, he doesn’t know what to do with his wife, he thinks that “if I give them money they will be happy”. And so his relationship with them is ill. Maybe, as a child, he wanted to have money and he imagined that money brings happiness…

But these are pretexts that we invent with our conscious minds, because deep within, in our unhealed soul, we are afraid. We are afraid of relationships because we don’t know how to love. Nobody taught us how to love. We need to pray so that the Holy Spirit can teach us true love. And a first step is being aware of our powerlessness, assuming it, and wanting to learn about our deep fears and defeat them.

Another type of ill love is one founded on “positive” feelings. We need to understand that love is not a feeling or a complex of feelings. Yes, we have feelings set afire, activated by love, but they don’t represent love. They only “color” it. Even though things here are much more profound, I would only like to mention now that the organ which we use to love God and our neighbor, as the Lord commanded, is an organ of the deep part of our mind, the deep part of our heart – what is called nous.

When people become aware of the action of this organ, their whole lives change. But to start with, for the spiritual level we reached, it’s sufficient to believe that the Holy Spirit works in this deep part of us when we participate actively in the divine services, when we confess and receive Communion, when we observe the commandments according to our strength, and when we pray at all times, in everything we do.

If we choose to get off to a good start in this sense, the first step would be to learn to use our attention, this wonderful but often so diseased power of our nous. Attention is a power of our mind (nous) to which we have access through our willpower. It is with attention that we embrace others and we love – and not with our affective powers which were reduced to feelings and emotions after the Fall. Feelings are like the weather, they come and go. Storms come and go, the atmospheric pressure rises and falls…These are powers that serve us during certain moments, they color our experiences, they involve our whole nature – but they don’t represent the deep part of love.

And so, to have a healthy relationship with our neighbor, we need to pay attention to him as a person, and not to his attributes which could be either useful or harmful to us. We embrace him and we pay attention to him as he stands before us in his reality. This is a difficult thing to do even for those “spiritually advanced” people who focus on the good of the other, as they perceive it.

I will give you an example from my own life. Before starting the monastery where I am now, I had reached a “very high spiritual level”. I was doing many prostrations each day, I was saying hundreds of “Lord, Jesus Christ…”, I loved the poor, the imprisoned, the ones who strayed…I was “perfect” in other words! But I didn’t have any direct relationship, in my day-to-day life, with anyone. I was the one who strayed, thinking I was a missionary – which, in a way, I was. Yes, I was helping the ones I worked with, but I wasn’t helping myself, I wasn’t growing…

God  arranged things so that I became an abbess – that is, for a few nuns to gather around me, and for me to receive the grace to “shepherd” them. I started to work with a lot of zeal, and I was convinced that in a short time they will also be “perfect” like me! Oh God, great are Your wonders! What do you think happened? Well, the “holy” one became, forgive my expression, the devil incarnate! I couldn’t believe it! So much anger, so much impatience, so much disbelief: “How can you set the glass down here? Aren’t you thinking when you do that? You never do that!” And the wet glass was indeed set down on some piece of furniture, leaving a mark which couldn’t be removed – and this would arouse in me great indignation. I wasn’t even focusing on the person – I was focusing on the furniture! And I wanted to “set things right”.

I was noticing with astonishment how all those “methods of education” used by my mother and father were now awakened in me – even though I had left my parents telling myself that I will never do what they did! And I was doing exactly what they did. I was telling myself: “My blessed father had his method, and my blessed mother her method, and here I am now with both methods!”

I had to go through a sort of death to be able to escape from this way of loving and living. With the help of my spiritual Father, I stopped, I chose to die to that life and I started all over. I said: “Lord, heal me, create me anew, make me new, I don’t want to live this way anymore! Yes, this is who I am, but You can change me! Help me!” This was after I wanted to give up, after I told the Metropolitan that I am not meant to be a good abbess. And he said: “Do you think anyone is good? God makes people good! Ask God to make you good, and you just hate the bad that is in you!” And I started to do this. It’s not easy, and it would be impossible if it were only up to us.

Our most important task is to look at our powerlessness, accept it, and call God and receive Him in this very powerlessness.

We need to enter into a living relationship with God’s Saints who healed themselves and who help us on our path both with their prayers and with their teachings. The Holy Fathers from Philokalia give us teachings that help us even if we read them only to get healed. The Holy Spirit, Who acted in them, lives and acts in us too. We don’t read their teachings to copy them exactly, but to enter into their spirit. This way, we can do what is in our power to do in our lives, but with their spirit.

We will thus discover within ourselves a war between the powers of our soul, which fight amongst themselves for different objectives. The first battle is between mind and heart. My mind wants to love and my heart says: “No, I don’t like him!” My mind wants patience – which is a virtue, isn’t it? – while my heart says: “How long will I endure this! That’s it, I can’t bear it anymore!” This is how I discover that my heart is driven from its depths (“For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come” – Mark 7:21) by desires which contradict themselves, and also contradict my rational ideals. We have in those depths convictions that dictate our behavior, and which contradict our conscious, ideological convictions (ideological because they are made out of ideas).

Nobody changes by listening to preaching that is based only on ideology. People are influenced only by the energies of the heart, by thoughts that come out of the heart. Scientists from Cardiology Institutes in the USA and Canada performed experiments that showed that the energy of the thought covers a much smaller distance (5 feet) compared to the energy of the heart (from 20 to 200 miles)…We Orthodox Christians believe that these energies of our hearts cover the whole of Creation and influence it towards good or evil, depending on whether they are good (which means they are united with God’s grace) or evil (that is, parasitized by demonic energies).

When my heart emits something evil, experiences something evil, these energies go out from me as vibrations with a specific frequency, and they will attract waves of similar quality. And I will meet evil people like me – even though I might believe that I am unlucky, or that someone put a curse on me, because I am not aware of the evil in me. Some people are astonished and ask themselves if the evil people they have met at different times have talked to each other because they have all acted the same way. No, those people haven’t talked to each other, they’ve talked to me. I tell everyone what to do, how to behave – through the energies hidden in my heart.

So what can we do?

There is only one solution: to heal our hearts with God’s grace. For example, when I choose to say: “Lord, have mercy on my neighbor!”, my heart is filled with uncreated energy, with God’s grace, and it annihilates the evil stored in its depths. All curses are loosened through blessings. The Lord says: “Bless those who curse you” and His word is a power that heals and creates. But we “don’t feel like” blessing those who curse us, because we think it’s not right. And so, looking for righteousness, we suffer evil and we react with evil, thus doubling the evil (because I am evil and you are evil). This is the secret of our ill relationships.

And let’s also pay attention to this: the quality of our relationships can only be tested by our relationship with God, with ourselves, and with the ones closest to us (family, community). We will behave in the world the same way we behave in these relationships.

Let’s say I start doing missionary work. If I left my room (cell) with tension, if I went out into the community with tension, then my community got on the same wavelength with me and is now tense. If I am upset and I don’t solve my problems through prayer, blessings, forgiveness, and love, everything I do in my missionary work – talks, conferences, seminaries – will have no effect. Absolutely no effect. If my heart is not pure, I can’t touch another heart. I can’t bring light anywhere if there is darkness in my heart. Don’t imagine that you can bring – forgive me, that we can bring Orthodox faithful into the church if we don’t love our wife and children. And not sentimentally, but in Christ. If we don’t bring our light there first, we will live in darkness and we will preach darkness.

Let’s not imagine that we can do something – spiritually speaking – outside our monastery, or when someone comes into the monastery, if we don’t love one another. Elder Sophrony of Essex insists: if you learn how to love the person next to you, in that intimacy, then you learn how to love any type of person. Let’s not deceive ourselves: it’s easy to love (in reality, to imagine that we love) someone far away from us or someone we rarely meet. It’s easy because we each show only our good parts to the other. We show only our valuable parts to each other. But when we live together, life becomes more complex and our hidden parts come to the surface.

And so, only when I cleanse my heart and when I have inner harmony will I also have harmonious relationships. The way I resolve conflicts within me, between my mind and my heart, is the same way I will resolve conflicts with my fellow human beings. If I learn how to love an “impossible” person, then, as Elder Sophrony says, I will love 10,000 people of this same type. And they are all impossible from my point of view.

To do this, we need first of all to heal all the psychological illnesses we received from our childhood, from memories, from wounds that entered our cells as toxic memories, as I was telling you last night. We need to heal the illnesses nested in what I was referring to last night as “cellular memory”, or genetic memory (epigenetic, as modern science calls it).

Our ancestors embodied both the good and the bad – things that they were not able, or were not willing to offer to God for healing. We received these things from their bodies, from the seed of life which comes from them. These things are written in our DNA, in this “Book of Life”, from where they can get activated or not, they can become conscious or not. We also need to heal the memories we received involuntarily, in our mother’s womb and the first years of our life, when we didn’t have the mental capacity to process rationally the data from the world, we just received it and “downloaded” it (even though we understood certain things and we had a certain willpower). We need to heal the memories we formed by storing and embodying experiences that we participated in freely and responsibly when we were more than seven years old.

If we don’t heal these three layers of memories, we will remain enslaved to impulses that they dictate to us. In actuality, we are never free because we are thrust, propelled by these drives that come from somewhere deep within us and that we are not able to control. I want to add an important clarification here, which has been proven scientifically: indeed, we are not free to stop these impulses from assaulting us. It has been proven that the impulsive act gets triggered before we are aware of it. But we are free to choose not to do what the impulse asks us to do. We never lose this freedom, but we need power so we can make that choice. And the only power that makes us truly free is God’s grace, God’s uncreated energy.

I very much pity all people who seek healing without God, because they will be overwhelmed by the complexity of their illnesses…Humanly speaking, this healing is not possible, this liberation is not possible. This is why the Son of God became human. This is why we have the Holy Church, against which the gates of hell will not prevail. If we pay attention and participate in the work of the Holy Spirit in the Church, we will be healed from all these illnesses – assuming we become aware of them and we want to be healed.

Another cause of our psychological illnesses is not knowing our soul and its relationship with God. We believe in the work of grace, we believe in the uncreated energies, but we are not aware and we don’t take advantage of the fullness of God’s work in Church, in us, and through us.

Some of the more daring scientists, from universities in the USA and the UK, have discovered that at the root of our illnesses are issues related to energy – and they are now looking for forms of energy that will annihilate the negative energy which manipulates our lives. We can already see progress related to energy – surgeries with laser beams, seeing inside the body with energy – so we should be able to treat our illnesses more efficiently and more consciously through the work of energy. Now would be the appropriate time for the Church to meet these scientists and show them the truth about the true healing energy, which is the energy of grace, and about the capacity of human energy to unite with the divine energy.

You also, Reverend Fathers, could be more aware and more daring in using this healing energy of grace which you received through the Sacrament of Ordination into Priesthood, and which you have grown accustomed to using generally only in the Holy Sacraments. I noticed that many priests are not aware of the energy they transmit through their hands when they bless someone.

A priest was telling me that one night, when he returned home after an event where he had consumed some alcohol, a young gypsy woman with a baby in her arms knocked on his door and told him: “Say a prayer, Father, my baby is dying!”. The priest said: “I am not in a state right now to say a prayer, I can’t put my vestments on right now, come back tomorrow.” The woman yelled at him: “At least put your hand on the baby, otherwise I’ll slam the baby over your head!” The priest got scared, put his hand on the baby and said: “God have mercy on him, heal him, so she can leave me alone!” The next day the woman came back to thank him for healing her baby. Her faith healed the baby, but by the priest’s hand through which grace comes to us…

We need to learn how to use the grace that God gives us through His Holy Church. And we need to learn more about our illnesses, their causes, and our healing powers which become divine-human through our connection to God’s grace.

For example, we need to know that human beings have an extraordinary capacity (as a gift from their creation) to live, grow, be happy, be creative, enjoy life, and heal if they get sick. We all want to be healthy or to be healed if we get sick. But few of us know the “organ” which maintains or restores our health. And even fewer of us know that this organ needs to be cared for, needs to have its health maintained. And that our lifestyle, centered on comfort and pleasure, destroys this very organ. This organ is our immune system, the only instrument we have for healing ourselves. If we want to heal someone, we need to restore his immune system. But we also need to identify the enemies and the killers of this system.

I will mention only one of these enemies (even though there are many of them): stress. We all know the havoc that stress brings into our lives.

The state of stress arises when our organism is threatened by danger. In those moments, the brain commands the ceasing of the functions of maintenance, growth, waste elimination, creativity – so that all our vital energy can be targeted towards survival, through a physiological mechanism called “fight or flight”. All our strength is focused on our legs (so we can run away/take flight) and in our arms (so we can fight). When the danger passes, the organism is brought back into its normal state of functioning, into a “good” state. But if the danger lasts too long, or is greater than our capacities of defense, then the organism will enter into a state of crisis and will get sick – because its vital functions are working insufficiently.

This survival mechanism has developed in us from the time when our lives were much more threatened by natural dangers. Humans were constantly threatened by death. This physiological mechanism works in our days as well, even though our conditions of living have changed and we have built many “shelters” and protections for our lives. Modern man doesn’t fight wolves anymore – he fights instead with bank X or boss Y or task Z.

We get sick today because of unjustified, many times unreal cares and fears. Many of us live in a permanent state of stress caused by thoughts that we “chew on” as if they were chewing gum: “she doesn’t love me!”, “he is not listening to me!”, “they will mess it up!”, “they won’t be saved!”, “we won’t be able to build the monastery!”, “we won’t be able to finish the renovation of the church!”, “we have no money!”… All these are alarms that cause us to live in a state of siege and so we are not able to take care of our hygiene, of elimination of toxins, we are not able to take care of our health – and then we wonder why we are sick, or why we can’t sleep at night.

I want you to know that the sign of your faith in God is a good night’s sleep. When you fall asleep, you know that you are in God’s arms, and there is nowhere in the world that is safer or more comfortable. You lie there and you rest, because you know that He gives you rest and He wakes you up. And also your Guardian Angel, if you pray to him and you have learned how to listen to him. Instead of setting your alarm clock to wake you up and hitting Snooze all the time, you could say: “Holy Guardian Angel, when you think I got enough rest, give me a little shove so I can wake up and so I can say “Lord, Have mercy” a few times!” – and the Angel knows your level of stress and rest, so he will wake you up.

It is painful to realize that we do not put to use God’s grace, His holy teaching, and we choose to suffer instead. It is astonishing how skilled we are at creating our sorrows which could be avoided so easily. As if our hidden goal was to suffer! What are we focusing on when we choose risky behaviors or behaviors that proved to be dangerous? It seems we are addicted to a state of stress! We love our enemies, in a perverted sense. But if we wake up and we want to be free, we discover that we have a remedy against these enemies – if only we want to use it! We have the Lord, Who gives us His mercy, His care, His grace! Let’s use this remedy so we can uncover our hidden motives for these destructive choices represented by our passions: pride, vanity, gluttony, envy, rivalry…Let us uncover them and offer them to the Lord so He can heal them.

Let’s say someone comes to you and complains that he is in a lot of debt and can’t cope anymore. What can you do, since you don’t have money to give him, nor a job to offer him so he can earn more money? You can help him, through the Holy Sacrament of Repentance, to bring to light the passions which cast him into this situation. You can help him accept these passions, and accept the healing action of the Lord. And if he does that, he will be amazed at the change that will happen!

Another grave illness of our soul and a great enemy of our happiness is the remembering of evil, with all its “relatives”: hate, envy, resentments, lack of forgiveness, rivalry, etc. 

Many illnesses of the body are actually symptoms of this terrible illness of the soul. Almost all of us are filled with resentments, especially those we are not aware of anymore, which we don’t feel anymore, but which determine our psychological states, and, through them, our behavior. Many people say: “I had a happy childhood!” But for a child, it can be traumatic if his mother praises his brother for getting an A, while telling him that he is stupid and he won’t achieve anything in life…For the mother, those heavy words can be just words, or they can be a way for her to relieve some frustrations that have nothing to do with that situation. But for the child, this statement can become a belief, a conviction accompanied by all the feelings he felt at that moment. In the same way, the “traditional” expressions used by our parents, such as “why did you have to be born!” or “go to…”, are not empty words, but words that penetrate our memory and act upon us as internal commandments.

In these situations, our souls are poisoned because of a blind and sick “faithfulness” to these words, which we turned into beliefs when we were children. We can see in ourselves or people around us how such convictions can manipulate us. For example, people who, so that they don’t upset anyone, make compromises and always focus on others, but in a perverted way, wanting to appease the others. They neglect their own needs until they become exhausted, just so they appease the others. They are people that everybody uses, but that nobody thanks, nobody looks at them and their needs…They are people who finish their tasks last because there is always somebody asking them to do something more.

These people “embodied” in them the belief that they will not be loved unless they appease everybody. This is a perverted way of having “good relationships”. These relationships are not good, they are bad. These people will end up suffering from exhaustion, victimization. depression…And when they become depressed this way, it will be very hard for them to find healing. The people around them are not happier either: they will become more and more selfish, unfeeling, they will have bad relationships themselves because they will always look for people who appease them.

For us to free ourselves from this enslavement to the beliefs stored in the depths of our hearts, we have the remedies of our Holy Church: we can cleanse our minds through forgiveness and through renouncing the comfort of conformism; we can receive God’s grace through the Holy Sacraments and we can use this grace consciously and responsibly. And we have the prayer! Praying with the name of the Lord is a wonderful remedy. And also the Psalms. Sometimes, repeating a verse from a Psalm can work miracles in our hearts. For example, we can say often, with a burning desire: “Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise Your name” (Psalm 141/142). Or anything that moves our hearts when we read the Psalter.

The only condition is to pay attention to ourselves, to our thoughts and our words, and to choose to give up the remembrance of evil in our minds. We have to realize that we need to awaken and keep alive in us this special type of attention which is taking heed to ourselves.

Forgive me for always repeating this! I know from my own heart that we all wish to be happy and healthy, to have good, happy relationships. And I also know how much suffering we generate despite this wish – and especially despite this ocean of grace that overflows from God into the Church and into ourselves.

I said earlier that there are scientists who are looking for energies that counteract the destructive energies from our cellular memories and our negative beliefs – similar to how, using special headphones, external noise is counteracted by sounds with the same wavelength (Forgive me, my scientific language is only approximate or even inexact. But I hope you understand what I mean.)

And so, these scientists are looking for energy adequate for the energy in my body, in my heart, and they offer it to me as a treatment. In this way, if I suffer from pain or sorrow, I go to them, I lie down on the treatment chair or bed, and I get healed through this counteracting energy! Forgive me, I don’t mean to be ironic, and I am convinced that you’ll see devices like these and you’ll benefit from them. But what kind of benefit is it? What is my heart focused on when it wants this benefit? What is my “treasure” and where is it? It is a state of well-being through pleasure and comfort, isn’t it? And we all have enough experience to realize that this will not help us have good relationships, living relationships, relationships that will make us happy with God, with ourselves, and with our neighbor.  

It is time for us to realize that we need to use God’s gift: His grace, His uncreated energy through which we not only receive healing, we not only learn how to love and have good relationships – but we also obtain deification! Because this is the purpose of our lives, isn’t it? Let’s focus on this purpose, let’s move our treasure There, and our hearts will be healed. We will not be able to live like the great Saints, but we will live with their spirit.

I am astonished at the lack of feeling that we have, especially those of us who are “church-goers”, when facing the infinite mercy of God! I am astonished how, when the Lord comes to us at every Divine Liturgy and calls us to draw near with “fear of God, faith, and love”, offering us the Remedy for immortality – how hundreds and maybe thousands of Orthodox Christians remain indifferent in their places…And the Lord leaves, goes back into the Holy Altar, and is consumed by the priest who goes back home full, while those people go back home empty…And then they wonder that nothing changes…

What can we do? Again: take heed to ourselves. Discover that inner hunger that torments all of us. It is the hunger for God, for Life. When we pay attention to it consciously, this hunger grows in us until it demolishes the “walls of separation” between us and the Holy Chalice. The important thing is for our desire to be lively – both the desire of the priest who celebrates the service and the desire of the people who co-celebrate.

Do we think that we don’t have this desire? It just seems like we don’t! We do, but it is perverted, it is broken up into desire for health, money, power, pleasure, etc. Let’s start with what we possess. Let’s take every thread of desire within us and offer it to the Lord so He can transform it into His desire. Our need to be happy, to rid ourselves of pain and sorrow, is the “raw material”, so to speak, for the desire to partake of the uncreated energy and of the presence of He Who gives it to us.

He, God Himself, comes down to our level and calibrates His infinite energy to our pain, our desire, our illness…And He makes all of these His and transforms them into a place of holy joyfulness! Do we believe this?

As His Eminence was saying today, our mission and your mission is to serve the mystical, healing, sanctifying dimension of our Church. To do this, we need to set our hearts on fire. We need to ask the Lord to set our hearts alight. Think about it: the Apostles set the hearts of the first Christians on fire, and then those people did the same to others. Faith catches on fire from one heart to another. Motovilov saw the grace, the uncreated light, in relation to St. Seraphim of Sarov. We all have the uncreated light, we all see it with the eyes of our hearts. It is only our minds that are not there, or not there all the time.

Father Romanides (who turns to the Holy Fathers) states resolutely that “we will not be saved if we have not seen the uncreated light”. But we shouldn’t despair, thinking that we need to see this light like St. Silouan or St. Seraphim of Sarov. This light is revealed to us gradually and in many forms. The first is faith – not the faith we confess in the Creed. That is only the expression of faith, the formulation of faith. It is the astonishing power of our reason-mind to confess what the depth of our heart-mind feels and sees and knows (this depth is the “nous” I was telling you about).

When the reason-mind is centered on the heart-mind, and when the heart-mind is united with God, then that person will confess and express the truth of the faith without learning it in school. As St. Silouan says: if the Bible and all the books of the Church were to disappear, the Orthodox faithful would be able to write them again. Why? Because it is the Holy Spirit Who writes them. Man’s rational mind expresses what the Holy Spirit says in the depths of his heart. But since we haven’t reached this measure of faith, we confess our faith by receiving the confessions of the Saints and living their faith.

Another form of seeing the uncreated light is to see our sins. Without this light, without God’s loving presence in us, we can’t see our sins. We can’t see our powerlessness. And we will go on living by projecting them on others, by judging, by remembering evil, by doing other similar things.

This is why a spiritual father is so happy when someone confesses grave sins. He sees and feels the work of the Holy Spirit and he rejoices for that soul, together with the angels. This is why it is important for our Orthodox faithful, adults and children, to learn these things from us so that they can want them and practice them. If we don’t preach the faith this way, in this dimension, people will come to Church to seek miracles and signs and magical solutions to their problems. And many of them will be disappointed, and will not understand what we are doing there in Church…But if they ask us, it’s good for us to have clear answers in our minds and hearts.

Forgive me for giving you another example from my own life: an officer of the Secret Police (“Securitate” in Romanian) asked me once why I am going to Church since I am so educated, and I don’t have any health problems…He asked me, marveling: “Why do you go there with all the old grannies? I don’t understand…You must have a reason…”. And I told him: “Yes, you’re right! I do have a reason”. And he said: “I knew it! Are you going to tell me the reason?” And I replied: “I want to receive the power to love you! Because otherwise, I am not able to…Since you’re ugly, bad, an officer of the Secret Police…it’s impossible for me to love you. So I go to Church because that’s where I can receive the power which allows me to love you!”

Yes! That’s what we are looking for in Church! And coming to Church and staying in it, that’s what I found! I found true faith! There is no doubt in this faith because it is vision, it is knowledge. Doubts come through our reason, through thoughts that are suggestions from the enemy. But as soon as we go deep into that vein of faith, we suddenly become confessors of that internal vision which is our faith.

Unfortunately, many Orthodox faithful run away from the first sparkles of the light in which we see our own spiritual misery. We run away because we are beset by a great sense of despair, a strong feeling of self-disgust…Before receiving the uncreated light from our Merciful God, we deceive ourselves, thinking: “my father did this to me, or the Communist Party, or the Secret Police, or my husband, my wife, my children, the weather, the cold…” These beliefs give comfort to our soul, offer us the illusion that we know where all our sorrows come from – or, if we don’t know, then we find comfort in the belief that we are innocent victims of occult forces…

Now, in this light, all of these beliefs have disappeared, and I see that everything happens because of me, everything is in me. My pride tells me to rebel, to excuse myself, to accuse everybody else, but the loving presence of the Savior (which my ration-mind doesn’t even feel) doesn’t allow me to do it – and I choose to accept and to offer myself wholly to the mercy of God. It is up to me to accept it, to assume it. I believe it was St. Cyril of Alexandria who said: “What is not assumed cannot be saved.” If I don’t assume my misery, then I can’t give it to God so He can free me up from its burden – and so I am not saved, that is to say, I am not freed up.

I would like to emphasize here something very important: we need to accept our life, accept the fact that we have this life, that we are alive. We confuse life with its events – but life is what is alive in us, it is this astounding capacity to be, to feel, to think, to act…When our attention will focus on our life in this sense, then we will be free when facing any event: we will be capable of saying “Yes” to life and experiencing fully everything that our circumstances offer us. And everything will be different – not dictated by events, but depending on whether we are connected or not to the Divine Life.

The first “Yes” we are called to say is when we enter life at the moment of our conception. The quality of our life will depend on how faithful we will be to this first “Yes”. To whom do we say “Yes” at that time? To God. Because we indeed come from our parents as far as our nature, but as a person, as “hypostasis”, as “someone” unique, we come from God. He brings us into existence then. We see Him then with our minds deep within us, we see Him and we feel His love. Then we forget, but we never forget that love which is not only infinitely great and powerful – but is also personal. I feel His love for me, personally.

We never forget that love, and we search for it everywhere, all the time. We can’t be satisfied with any other love, and that is why we keep searching for it. It is healing and soothing to always remember this search so that we don’t get lost in an ephemeral love that we consider absolute. The love that we feel amongst ourselves will then also have another dimension, another essence. It will become love from Love.

Then, so we can continue on the path of light, we need to say “Yes” to life again and again. But to do this, we need to free ourselves, to be freed up from the hell within us, and from the fear of death.

The path to freedom, the way to holiness is a descent – it is a descent into hell. As the Holy Fathers say, human beings lost God in Heaven and found Him in hell. God is waiting for us in hell – but not in the hell on the other side, but in the hell right here; not in the external hell, but our internal hell. This is, after all, the only hell: the hell in the heart separated by God. The Lord has descended and continues to descend into this hell to give us His power so that we can also become sons of God. This is an ontological reality that can be verified by anybody. We only need to descend with Him in the hell within us. It is a descent with multiple stages, because it requires our free will – and the liberation of our will from the slavery of sin takes a long time.

The first stage of this descent into our internal hell is our new birth through Holy Baptism. We see the uncreated light at that time, we feel the loving presence of the resurrected Lord and we receive Him with much joy into our hearts. This is why the Sacrament of Holy Baptism must be done and lived as the Holy Church teaches us, with no changes. As His Eminence said, let’s make sure that the water immersion is done three times. All the prayers that are ordained need to be offered not only by the priest who serves the Sacrament but also by the people present. Some people activated their deep memories and recalled their Baptism (and you all can also experience this in certain situations).

The Baptism is death and resurrection with and in the Lord. We believe this and we confess it. But we need to be more aware so that we can assume and benefit from another aspect of God’s work with us in our Baptism: our liberation from the fear of death, from this chain that the enemy used to enslave us. When we are immersed three times in the water of Baptism, we live death as the fear of death. We live the fear of death to such a degree that it surpasses our strength – to a point of dismemberment. The cells in our bodies are dismembered by this fear and stop communicating with each other, so to speak, those messages of protection against death that result in life as survival.

Everything we inherited from our parents, all our cellular memories, even though they are toxic, help us survive, teach us what to do so we don’t die physically, so that we survive until we meet Christ the Savior. That’s why God ordained for the body not to die – as the soul died when it separated from God by disobeying the commandment. He gave us this life for survival, for us to want Him, our true Life, again. And so in the Holy Baptism we don’t die of fear, but we die to the fear of death by dying and getting resurrected with the Lord. This might be hard to understand, but prayer will illuminate us if we will pay more attention to ourselves.

And still. After Baptism, many of us live and behave as if all these things never happened to us. Why? Because we don’t know how to live, which is to say we don’t know how to use the powers that were gifted to us. We don’t have, as animals do, an innate “instruction manual for living life”. We need to learn how to live. And even though, in the Sacrament of Holy Unction, we received the Holy Spirit Who “teaches us everything”, we continue to learn from our parents and our teachers who are still spiritual infants, carnal beings who didn’t honor being “born again” in the Spirit, who didn’t activate the power of God’s grace in their lives. Therefore, the fear of death still rules over us. That is why we need to make a new beginning, again and again.

For example, I feel fear – I am afraid of illness, of death, of being destitute. As I said before, I can’t choose freely and willingly to feel this fear. How do I make a new beginning? Simply by refusing to act and to think in the way the fear imposes on me, and by offering this fear to God. I call God into my fear. I accept it, I live it, I feel it with all my being and I turn this feeling into a vessel, a chalice in which I call to the Lord: “Come, Lord, and heal my soul of this fear!”

We have here a new step towards the vision of the uncreated light. It is the step of turning all our powerlessness, all our experiences (“our whole life” as we say in the Divine Liturgy) into a vessel of uncreated energies, a door through which the Good Shepherd can enter. Our relationships will cease being ill from the moment we will focus on knowing and healing our powerlessness. Knowing and assuming this powerlessness, and feeling the mercy of God, will open our spiritual eyes toward the one in front of us. Knowing that God loves us as we are (of course, so that we can become, through His mercy, what we are not yet), our attention will be united with His mercy so that we learn how to do His will.

The enemy keeps telling us that God cannot love us in our miserable condition – and that, if we want God to love us, we need to be “good kids”. And the enemy does this very often through those who raise us: “If you are a good kid, God will love you. If not, He will be angry with you! He will punish you!” And this is how we learn to either run away from God or to “negotiate” with Him, to buy His goodwill. This is a very incorrect way of relating to God and it comes from serious ignorance: we don’t know that sin is first of all illness. We don’t believe that God came to us, in us, to heal us, to forgive us, to free us from this illness. He lifts up our sins – if we give them to Him!

We are ill. Our relationships are ill. Lord, you have a lot of work to do with us! Come, Lord!

As for me, the first task I have is to look at my illness, to want to be healed, and to learn divine therapy. God gives us healing in our lives little by little, because this healing is also part of our becoming. If I look at myself, at my own life, I am amazed how God worked (and He still does, always different) for my healing, a long time before I asked Him consciously to heal me. He worked, and He also made me into my own therapist.

As I was saying before, a certain school of psychotherapy says that we are the victims of unconscious scripts “written” in our childhood, which we blindly obey. When I was suffering without God, I looked at my life and said: “What is this? This is a play with a bad script, written for an actor of genius. I am not going to perform from this script anymore, I will write another script for myself!” And for years and years, I wrote my own scripts…Not too good, but at least they were mine. Until I found the Screenwriter Who gave me His script, written especially for my genius! And I heal myself of myself time and time again, following the “rules of the divine play” which are always new and which constantly renew me as well. My iniquity and my stupidity seem to be (and maybe they are) bottomless, but His mercy and His goodwill are limitless!

Now, all that I read in psychotherapy books I know somewhat from my experience. They are valuable because they show the human soul which searches for healing, searches for some joyfulness. Before understanding that the Lord is the Path, and that joy comes through the cross, man runs frantically around, looking for a way out of suffering. I sometimes think that God allowed me to walk on paths of darkness just so I can understand human suffering and the human yearning for happiness. In a way, each of us covers the history of the entire human race so that we can be ready to receive Him not only for ourselves. And so that we learn to be respectful towards these human efforts which are not in vain, and which is also God’s gift to us.

Most of all, these efforts are useful to us because they prove that human science can’t save us. By becoming aware of the powerlessness of science, many people who are hurting will decide to choose the true Path. May we be the ones who give courage to the newcomers on this Path.

And so, we accept our powerlessness, we enter the hell within us. And then? We will first judge ourselves, so that “we will not be judged”, as the Lord teaches us. But to do this, we need to correct the way we understand this judgment – because we usually take the place of God the Judge. That is, we not only accuse ourselves (when we don’t excuse ourselves by accusing others or even God), but we also punish ourselves. The Holy Spirit teaches us through His Saints how healing it is for our souls when we accuse ourselves – when we assume responsibility, when we assume our actions, thoughts, words, lack of knowledge, powerlessness…when we accept that each of us is responsible for being far away from Him, and thus we suffer.

Let us not sink into neurotic guilt. And let us ask for His mercy, for His healing. Yes, we deserve the punishment which consists exactly of the suffering we endure. But we judge ourselves precisely so that we are freed from suffering – that is, freed from being dependent on the causes of this suffering, which are exactly our attitudes and our choices. Let us stop asking for our suffering to cease while we keep doing the same old things, we keep eating the wrong food, etc. But the most important thing, I repeat, is to not punish ourselves, but to accept God’s love and forgiveness.

This first step is hard to take because we were told all the time that we need to be good, we need to be different than what we were…”You shouldn’t be like this!” or “How can you behave so badly? Shame on you!” as a mother was yelling to her one-and-a-half-year-old daughter who wanted to stand up and grabbed the table cloth, thus spreading the fancy food from the table all over the floor. And then the little girl started to paint on the floor with all that yummy food…When her mother came into the room, both the little girl and the room were painted in bright colors. And the little girl was very excited and happy. But can you imagine the effect that the mother’s shouts and accusations had on this creative child? Was she able to feel shame? She was able to feel only fear and despair…and to form the belief that she is not good, and that she needs to be good.

This is how we learn that we should be good, instead of learning that we cannot be good without other people and God teaching us how to be good. This mentality is hard to change. I was helped by St. Nicodemus the Hagiorite when I read “The Unseen Warfare”. I learned from the Saint how to confess as well. I had received the book from Fr. Galeriu, who had told me that it would “build up my soul”. Usually, he would lend me books that would warm my heart, would strengthen my piety. And so I took this book home with me, thinking it would bring me to the peaks of ecstasy! But, alas, it brought me down directly into the hell within me! When I saw how many sins there are, and that, in one way or another, they were in me too, I said: “This can’t be true!” But I had already seen that it was true, that they were in me as well, not only in the book. I had a hard time accepting this, looking at my sins, shedding tears for them, asking for mercy and forgiveness.

But the most difficult thing was to confess: how was I supposed to tell Fr. Galeriu  – who was telling other people what a cultivated person I was, and full of repentance – how was I supposed to tell him that I did all those trivialities? And I prayed to St. Nicodemus: “Holy Father, help me, I can’t say those things!” And the Saint replied to me with words out of his book: “Never say ‘How could I do such a thing?’ but say ‘Lord, thank you for allowing me not to do worse things!’”. This brought peace into my heart and turned my natural shame into courage. Yes, as a human being I can do much worse, I can commit every sin. And only God’s mercy protected me from the things I didn’t do, and only His love will teach me how to be good and pure.

If we understand that we cannot be good without God, then this will suddenly take the weight off of our shoulders. We don’t have to be different. We are how we are, we are just not ready. This filth within me is the place where God comes to heal me, to sanctify me. As Fr. Nicolae Steinhardt from Rohia used to say: God makes saints with “the customer’s material”. And if I don’t give Him my material, what will He do? He will let me keep my sick mind. He came to lift up the sin of the world, which means all our psychological filth. By giving Him my sin, I give Him myself. I turn myself into “prosphora” and I offer it to Him, I ask Him to make me into the human being He meant me to be. This is the permanent Liturgy where we put our offering on the altar of our heart. In the beginning, this offering is our sin. As monks say, and it is not a metaphor: “I didn’t bring anything to God except my sins”. But I give them to God. And God lifts them up, and heals me.

Another thing that hampers our growth is that we have a wrong vision of sin. First of all, we look at sin juridically, and not as an illness. Then we are mistaken, considering that our sins are our thoughts, our words, our actions.  We confess that “we sinned by word, deed, or thought” –  which means that the word, the deed, the thought are the “flesh” of the sin, its “raw materials”, its symptoms. When we have a physical illness, we don’t say that we are sick of a headache….Sin is an illness, and this illness is within me, in my heart. If I treat the symptoms, I can die, because the illness remains unhealed.

For example, when someone confesses, saying “I stole this and that”, and stops stealing, that person is not healed – because the problem is not in the things he stole, but in the perverted attitude of his soul when looking to satisfy his needs without consideration and mercy for the victim of the theft. Most often, people who steal do it for pleasure, not for riches. I knew thieves in prisons who were saying: “I was earning 20 million lei per day when I was stealing, and my salary was just 1 million!” And I asked them: “So why didn’t you stop after you stole the first 20 million?” And they said: “Well, I used to spend all the money in one day! I knew I could always steal more money, and I felt great pleasure in stealing and in the danger of being caught!”. So this was it, the pleasure! In other cases, the fuel could be fear or shame. These energies of our souls are ill and push us to commit sins. And God heals precisely these energies, by offering us His uncreated energy as the remedy.

When we confess our sins, when we repent, let us look carefully underneath our actions, our thoughts, and our words. We slandered someone…What is underneath that? The wish to make that person small in someone’s eyes, and make myself big. Which is to say – pride. Lord, heal my soul! And so on…

Only when we live our repentance in the Holy Spirit will we understand what great sinners we are, and how great is God’s mercy. And when we truly taste God’s mercy, there will be such mercy in our souls that we couldn’t imagine is humanly possible. An internal discernment will grow from this tasting, between me as a sinner and me as being powerless against sin.

Now I see clearly that without God, I wouldn’t be able to abandon sin. And so I feel in myself all human powerlessness, and I pray that everyone receives God’s mercy, as I received it. This is how love for enemies starts. But we’ll talk about this another time…

I will finish by synthesizing:

We are all ill, the powers of our soul are ill, our energies are ill and parasitized by demonic energies. But we have a Remedy! It is close to us. It is in your Reverend Fathers’ hands! It is in our mouths! We have God and His grace. And grace works according to the divine ordinance, and we receive it according to the divine ordinance, through the Holy Sacraments – we receive the fire which we keep alive through prayer, which we affix to our lives and our habits through the observance of the commandments. From here on you know better than me how to proceed, Reverend Fathers. Bless! Thank you!

His Eminence Serafim: I confess that I am simply fascinated, as I believe you all are, and I think we can all say that we have never heard in our whole lives the things we heard tonight, through Mother Siluana’s mouth. And yet Mother Siluana doesn’t talk about things foreign to our faith, to our Orthodoxy – she tells us about the specifics, about what is our Orthodox faith, but unfortunately, we are not familiar with those things. And I dare say that even if we are not familiar with them, we still experience them, each of us at our level. And even if we are not able to express them as well as Mother Siluana, we heard them as our normality, as something that we felt is true. Our conscience, our hearts tell us that they are true, even though we can’t express these things. And so, it seems to me that the synthesis of what Mother Siluana told us is that we, Orthodox faithful, especially here in the West, need to be more aware of the value of our Orthodoxy, of its depth, of its profound truth, of the fact that Orthodoxy is not intellectualistic or moralistic, it does not want to regiment us in one way or another. Orthodoxy is a profound opening toward God’s work, so that grace comes to us, so that we receive grace.

And so that we know ourselves, because, as Mother Siluana said, we can only know ourselves truly with help from God’s grace. And if we know ourselves, we need not despair. If you see yourself as a sinner, if you see yourself dirty, it doesn’t mean you get discouraged or you pity yourself, since I don’t think this would be of any use.

Mother Siluana: On the contrary, we are happy – we are happy that we can offer ourselves to God so that He can heal us.

His Eminence Serafim: Yes, on the contrary, you give God all your filth, you place yourself in front of Him. We are God’s creatures, in any case, we are His sons, and we are the way we are, as God knows us in any case – but God wants us to be aware that we are His creation, that He is our Father, that He loves us the way we are, and that He will take us out of our filth, little by little, and will heal us.

And so I think that our Orthodoxy has a very positive, very optimistic spirituality – the spirituality of the Resurrection, of course. Why else did St. Seraphim of Sarov greet everyone on any day of the year with: “Christ is Risen, my joy!”? “My joy.” Everyone was his joy. May God help us to feel that way too! We thank Mother Siluana, all of us who are here in Nuremberg, and enjoyed her presence!

The Cross Of Forgiveness – Homily 37 By St. Marcarius

We began our first class with the quote from St Marcarius about the condition of the heart … of its capacity to contain both good and evil. Also in the first class, we gained St. Dimitri’s perspective on God’s purpose for us to “share in his Love, that is, full communion with God … the Good…God created the world for the sake of humanity, that the world be led towards the purpose of full communion with Him.” St Dumitru also has been teaching us how our crosses help us see where we have become attached to the gifts of God not the Gift Giver … or as Father Gabe says “what is the X I’m placing above God”. All of these gifts of God have this ultimate purpose of teaching us to love as He loves us as we unite to Him. The cross of our relationships is the topic of today’s class 5. Perhaps, there is no better teacher about God’s love than his mercy and forgiveness. How do we become vessels and instruments that participate more fully in His love in the reality of our relationships? This 4th century homily from St Macarius seems, to me, incredibly relevant as we explore how to answer this crucial question.


For the Lord, in giving many commandments concerning love enjoined us to seek the “righteousness of God” (Mt 6:11). For He knows that it is the mother of Love. There is no other way to be saved but through our neighbour; according as He commanded: “Forgive, and it shall be forgiven you”(Lk 6:37). This is the spiritual law, written in faithful hearts, the “fulfillment of the first law”(Rom 13:10). For he says “I came not to destroy the law, but to fulfill it (Mt 5:17). How is it to be fulfilled? Teach me the first Law by seizing occasion to bless the one who sinned rather than condemn his injustice. For it says “In whatever you judge another , you condemn yourself, for you who judge practice the same things.” (Rom 2:1). For the Law thus says, “In the midst of judgment, judgment, and in the midst of forgiveness, forgiveness” (Dt 17:8).

The fullness, therefore, of the Law consists in forgiveness. We have called it the “first law”; not that God has set two laws but one law, which is spiritual by its nature, but in regard to retribution, it gives to each person the retribution which is just, forgiving him that forgives, and contending with him that contends. For it says, “With the clean thou shalt be clean, and with the perverse thou shalt wrestle” (Ps. 18:26). Therefore, those who spiritually fulfilled the Law and in proportion as they participated in Grace loved with a spiritual love not only those who did good to them, but also those who reproached and persecuted them, looking forward to receive the gift of good things. Of good things, I say, not because they forgave the wrongs done to them, but because they also did good to the persons who did wrong to them. For they offered them to God as the means whereby they fulfilled the beatitude, as it says: “Blessed are you when they shall revile you and persecute you” (Mt 5:11).

They were taught to think so by means of a spiritual law. For while they patiently endured and maintained an attitude of meekness, the Lord, seeing the patience of the heart engaged in warfare and the love that lessened none of its ardor, broke through “the middle wall of separation” (Eph 2:14). And they got rid of so great a hatred with the result that their love was no longer forced but served as a help. In a word, the Lord took control over “the sword that turned every way” (Gn3:24) which excited the thoughts. And they “entered into the inner sanctuary of the veil where the forerunner on our behalf had entered” (Heb 6:19), namely the Lord. And they enjoyed the fruits of the Spirit. Having seen the things to come in the certainty of the heart, no longer as the Apostle says,”in a mirror dimly” (1 Cor 13:12), they spoke of “what eye has not seen nor ear heard nor the things that have entered the heart of man, what things God has prepared for them that love Him” (1 Cor 2:9).

The Spiritual Illness of Distraction – Ancient Christian Wisdom by Bishop Alexis Trader (OCA Bishop of Alaska)

Perhaps nothing in contemporary culture is more revelatory of our perpetually distracted state than our attachment to electronic devices such as iPhones, iPods, iPads, cell phones, and laptops.  It seems as if we are not able to function without the distraction of technology.  Now, technology properly used is a wonderful thing.  However, when technology becomes an end in itself to distract us from who we are and our ultimate destiny as well as from human communication with others, it becomes a problem. And distraction is a problem, for Abba Poimen living far from our world of technology in the simple and barren desert went so far as to say, “distraction is the beginning of evils” (PG 65.332). What would he say today?

Technology and its distractions, like idols in ancient times, refashion human beings into something far different from what they were intended to be. The ego, as mentioned in the last blog post, can become so dominant that people under its sway becomes lost in its seeking and desiring forms of entertainment and distraction. We becomes slaves to our own ego, constantly seeking instant gratification and solutions to mundane problems all the while distracted from the source of our existential problem, which is alienation from God. Our higher self becomes enslaved to our lower self and our lower self to the myriad of distractions that technology sets before our eyes. We lose our ability to be still and focus on the “one good part that should not be taken from us.” We multitask to accomplish more, even though psychological studies have shown that in so doing, we ultimately accomplish less. We’ve sold our royal birthright unknowingly. As the illumined Elder Aimilianos wrote before the age of the internet and cell phones, “In the industrial era, people became consumers and slaves to things produced. In post-industrial society, they are also becoming consumers and slaves to images and information, which fill their lives.”

When technology becomes the vehicle through which we disconnect from nature and those around us, we become further alienated from our true selves.  Technology usurps the primary role in human life: seeking communion and restoration in God.  The problem can become so acute that we begin to view our relationship with God and prayer as a distraction rather than the source of our salvation and healing.  At this point, our world has been turned completely upside down. Elder Aimilianos has written presciently about this subject, “The most dreadful enemy created by post-industrial culture, the culture of information technology and the image, is cunning distraction. Swamped by millions of images and a host of different situations on television and in the media in general, people lose their peace of mind, their self-control, their powers of contemplation and reflection and turn outwards, becoming strangers to themselves, in a word mindless, impervious to the dictates of their intelligence. If people, especially children, watch television for 35 hours a week, as they do according to statistics, then are not their minds and hearts threatened by Scylla and Charabdis, are they not between the devil and the deep blue sea? (Homer, Odyssey, XII, 85).”

The antidote is the constant and abiding remembrance of God in our daily lives, but such remembrance is itself only possible through stillness.  This is no doubt why Saint Ephraim the Syrian wrote that we must “love stillness in order to be delivered from distraction.” Since we have become so accustomed to our technological attachments, it will take discipline to accomplish this.  If we are serious about combating distraction as a spiritual illness, we must be willing to lay aside these sources of distraction during times of prayer and the Services. We must discipline ourselves to turn off those devices, so that we can allow our hearts and mind to function in the way they were ultimately meant to function in keeping with the commandment: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself” (Luke 10:27).