Conference Ten
Conference Ten
ON PRAYER
I But now amid these sublime teachings of the anchorites which, u ith Ciod's help, I have set dow n in mv ow n prosaic fashion, there is something demanded by the sequence of the narrative, something to be added and included, rather like a wart on a beautiful body.
Still, those of simpler disposition will derive from this a valuable teaching concerning the image of the omnipotent God as described in Genesis.
Indeed, the standing of this great teaching is being undermined, and to know' nothing about it is surely a great blasphemy and a great danger to the Catholic faith.
In the Egyptian region there is an old custom that w hen Epiphany is over, that day which the priests of the area claim is the day of the Ivord's baptism and of I lis birth (and this is w hy these two events are not, as in the West, celebrated on two solemn occasions but as one feast day), the bishop of Alexandria sends letters to all the churches of Egypt, to all the cities and the monasteries, in order to announce the date of the beginning of Lent and of Easter Sunday. Nowonly a few' days after our first talk w ith the monk Isaac, there came, according to custom, the official letters of the bishop fheophilus.
In these he made the announcement about Easter and he included a long discussion of the absurd heresy of the Anthropomorphites, a heresy which he leveled with great eloquence.
I his was received very bitterly by almost every sort of monk throughout all Egypt, monks who, in their simplicity, had been ensnared by the error.
Indeed, the majority of the older men among the brethren asserted that in fact the bishop was to be con-
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dcmncd as someone corrupted l)v the most serious heresy, someone opposing the ideas of holy Scripture, someone w ho denied that almighty
(lod w as of human shape—and this despite the clear scriptural evidence that Adam w as created in I lis image. Fhose liv ing in the desert of Scete and w ho w ere far ahead of all the Egyptian monks in perfection and know ledge denounced the bishop's letter. Among all the priests only our ow n Paphnutius w as an exception.
Ehose in charge of the three other churches in the desert refused to allow the letter to be read or publicly presented at their assemblies.
Among the victims of this heresy there w as a man named Sarapion. For a very long time he had lived a life of austerity and he had experience of every aspect of monastic discipline. Merit and age combined to bring him to the front ranks of the monks but his ignorance in this doctrinal matter made him all the more culpable in the eyes of those holding the true faith. Despite the many entreaties of the holy priest
Paphnutius he could not be led back on to the path of the true faith.
The concept seemed new-fangled to him.
It was something unknown to his predecessors and not taught by them. lU' chance a deacon named Photinus came along. He was a very w ell-versed man.
I le came from Cappadocia because he wished to visit the brethren living in the desert of Scete, and the blessed Paphnutius received him with great pleasure. In order to add strength to the doctrine contained in the bishop's letter he brought Photinus into a gathering of all the brethren. He asked him how' the Catholic churches of the East interpreted the words in Genesis, "Let us make man in our own image and likeness" (Cin 1:26).
Photinus explained how' all the leaders of the churches w ere unanimous in teaching that the image and likeness of God should be understood not in an earthly, literal sense but spiritually. He himself demonstrated the truth of this in a lengthy discourse and w ith abundant scriptural evidence.
I le showed that it was impossible for the boundless, incomprehensible, and invisible majesty to undergo anything typical of human experience and likeness, for here is something that is not corporeal or composite, something simple w hich can be observed neither by the eye nor by the mind.
At last the old man was moved by the many very powerful arguments of this extremely learned man and he was draw n back to the faith of the C^atholic tradition.
Ehis agreement of his gave endless joy to the
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monk Faphnutius and to all of us, for clearly the Lord had not allow ed an old man of great age and outstanding virtue, a man gone astray only because of ignorance and simplicity, to remain until the very end a stranger to the path of true faith. We stood up to bless the Lord and to pour out our prayers of thanks to Him. And then amid these prayers the old man became confused, for he sensed that the human image of God w hich he used to draw before him as he prayed was now gone from his heart. Suddenly he gave way to the bitterest, most abundant tears and sobs. He threw himself on the ground and with the mightiest howl he cried out: "Ah the misfortune! Thev'ye taken my God away from me.
I ha\ e no one to hold on to, and I don't know w horn to adore or to address."
W e were deeply moved by this. And in our hearts was the memory of the earlier Conference. So we w ent back to the monk Isaac and when we saw him this is what we said to him:
"Even without these strange and recent events, our insistent memory of your Conference on prayer has persuaded us to abandon everything and to come back to Your Beatitude. Indeed, the serious error of the monk Sarapion has added something to this longing of ours. This error, it seems to us, comes as a result of the skill of most w icked demons. And w e have fallen into no small discouragement as w e think of his labor of the fifty wonderful years he has spent in this desert and of the fact that not only did he fall prey to this disastrous ignorance but even ran the risk of everlasting death.
'Tdrst, we want to know this. WTat is the source of so serious an error? I'hen w e w ould like to learn how' we achieve this level of prayer about which you spoke earlier w ith such abundant and magnificent eloquence. That wonderful conference of yours had such an effect on us that we fell into a stupor.
"I low can w e achieve this? How' can w e lay hold of it?
I his has not vet been revealed to us."
Isaac: "
I here is nothing surprising about the fact that a very simple man w ho never received instruction concerning the substance and the nature of the divinity could have remained until now a captive of ignorance and of long-standing error. Actually, he just remained stuck in old errors.
It is not a question, as you think, of a recent diabolical
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trick, but rather of an old pagan misapprehension. Paganism gave human shape to the demons w hich it adored. And now adays it is thought that the incomprehensible and unspeakable majesty of the true (lod can be adored amid the limitations of some image or other. People believe thev are holding on to nothing at all if thev do not have some image in front of them, an image to be prayed to, an image to be carried around in the mind, an image w hich is alw ays there to be looked at. "Phis is the ' They have exchanged the error against w hich are directed the words: glorv of the incorruptible (lod for a likeness of corruptible man' (Rom
1:23). And Jeremiah savs this: 'My people have exchanged their glorv for an idol' (^[er 2:
1 1).
" Phis error is ingrained in the minds of those I have mentioned.
And among those untouched bv pagan superstition the error arises under the influence of that declaration 'Let us make man in our ow n image and likeness' and it arises too out of ignorance and simplicity.
It is from this abominable interpretation that there is really born that heresy of the Anthropomorphites, the heresy w hich obstinately and perversely claims that the infinite and simple divine substance is enclosed in w hat characterizes us and that it is of human shape.
"Anyone reared in Catholic teaching w ill reject this pagan blasphemy and w ill also achieve that purity in prayer of w hich
I have been speaking. In its pleadings this prayer w ill not only reject all representation of the divine and all that is of human shape—an impossibly criminal utterance—but it w ill not give a place to even the memory of some statement of the appearance and shape of any act w hatsoever.
".\s I said in the first Conference, each soul in prayer is stirred and shaped in accordance with the measure of its purity.
It loses sight of earthly and material things in proportion to the inspiration of its purity, so that it sees Jesus either in his low ly creaturehood or else, w ith the inner gaze of the soul, it sees the glorified Jesus coming in the splendor of I lis majesty, dO look upon Jesus coming in the glory of His kingdom is not possible for those held back by that weakness, Jew ish in character, w hich prevents them from saying w ith the apostle: 'Even if we did know' Christ in the flesh, that is not how we know Him now
' (2 Cor 5:16). Only those of purest eye can look upon His divinity, those w ho have risen up beyond low ly works and earthly thoughts and have gone off w ith I lim to the high mountain of solitude. And that solitude is free from the entire sw irl of worldly considerations, of worldly distur-
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bances.
It is safely removed from all the turbulence of sin.
It is raised up high in the utter purity of faith and amid preeminent virtues.
It makes known the glory of the face of Christ and reveals the image of His splendor to those worthy to look upon it with the clear gaze of the spirit.
"Jesus is seen by those who live in the cities and the towns and the villages of monastic life and work, but He is seen not with the claritv with which He has appeared to the Peter and the James and the John who can climb up w ith Him to that high mountain of virtue.
In this kind of solitude He appeared to Moses and spoke to Elias.
" Phis w as something w hich our Lord w ished to lav dow n as something sure. He wished to leave us examples of perfect purity. Being
Himself the inviolable source of holiness, He did not have to rclv on w ithdraw al from the w orld in order to acquire it nor did I le need the benefit of a solitary w ay of life. Being Himself the fullness of purity,
He could not be touched bv the stains of the mob nor, in consorting w ith men, would He be contaminated. He who purifies and sanctifies all that is polluted.
"Still, 1 le w ithdrew to the mountain so as to pray there alone, and surely in this w ithdrawal I le set us an example so that if w e should hav e the w ish to pray to Ciod with a pure, clean heart, then we, likewise, must w ithdraw from all the worry and turbulence of the crow d. While we still hang around in this body we must reproduce some image of that blessedly eternal life promised for the future to the saints so that among us it may be a case of 'God—all in all' (1 Cor 15:28).
"Then there w ill be accomplished in us what our Savior prayed for w hen, speaking to I lis f ather about I lis disciples, I le said: 'So that the love you haye for me may be in them, and they in us' (Jn 7:26).
' fhat they may all be one, as you, f ather, are in me and I in you, and that they may be one in us' (Jn 17:21).
I he perfect love with which God 'first loved us' (1 Jn 4:10) will come into our hearts, for our faith tells us that this prayer of our Sav ior w ill not be in v ain. And these w ill be the signs of God being all that w e lov e and all that w e want.
I le w ill be all that we are zealous for, all that we strive for. He will be all that we think about, all our liv ing, all that w e talk about, our very breath. And that union of f ather and Son, of Son and Father, will fill our senses and our minds. As God loves us with a love that is true and pure, a love that nev er breaks, w e too w ill be joined to I lim in a nev er-ending un-
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shakal)le love, and it vv ill be such a union that our breathing and our thinking and our talking v\'ill be '(iod.' And we will come at last to that objective w hich I have mentioned, the goal which the Lord prayed to '
I hat they may all be one as we are one, as I am in them and vou in me so that they are utterly one' (Jn 17:22-23). 'k'ather, be fulfilled in us:
I w ant those vou have given me to be w ith me w here I am' (Jn 17:24).
" Lhis, then, is the goal of the monk. All his striving must be for this so that he may deserve to possess in this life an image of future happiness and may have the beginnings of a foretaste in this body of that life and glory of heayen.
Fhis, I say, is the objective of all perfection, to hav e the soul so remov ed from all dalliance with the body that it rises each day to the things of the spirit until all its liv ing and all its wishing become one unending prayer."
(iermanus: "VVA came here to you because of the astonishment w e felt at that first (Conference of yours. But an ev en greater amazement grow s in us now'. What you are teaching us is inflaming us with a desire for perfect blessedness. And yet w e are v ery discouraged v\ hen we see hov\ little v\'e know of the route which would lead us to such sublimity.
"In our cells we have meditated for a long time and it may well be opportune to tell you the thoughts w e have had. So please listen to us patiently. We knov\' that Your Beatitude is not usually offended by the nonsense of the w eak. And these things should be said openly so that anything foolish in them may be corrected.
"This is what \\ c think. In any art or discipline, perfection can be reached only from beginnings w hich are necessarily v ery simple. One starts off from v\ hat is easier and gentler. The soul is nourished by the milk of reason, grows bit by bit, rises up gradually step by step from lowly things to the very highest. When one has taken hold of the simpler principles, when one has passed through the gates of one's profession, then as a consequence and without constraint one reaches the inner recesses, the high points of perfection. How can the child pronounce the simple gathering of syllables if he has not first learned to recognize the letters?
I low will skill in reading follow if one is unable to relate the brief and precise descriptions of words?
I low can someone ignorant of grammar achieve rhetorical eloquence or philosophic knowledge?
"d he same goes for that most sublime discipline w hich teaches us
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to cling utterly to God.
I am sure that it too possesses basic principles.
.\fter these have been very solidly established the high points can be grounded in them and raised up to the heights.
"The following, we humbly feel, would be the principles, hirst would be to know the method of finding and holding God in our thoughts. Second would be to hold unshakably to this method, w hatever that may be, for in this perseverance, we feel, lies the ultimate perfection.
"Flence our anxiety to find a formula w hich w ill enable us to think of (iod and to hold incessantly to that thought so that, as w e keep it in view , we mav have something to return to immediatelv whenever w e find that we have somehow slipped away from it.
It will be there for us to take up once more without w asting time in searches or in painful detours.
"And here is w hat happens.
\\ hen our thoughts slip aw av from spiritual contemplation and run here and there, we turn to ourselves as though coming from a sleep of forgetfulness. W e w ake up and look for the formula bv w hich to revive our vanished spiritual thinking.
Fhe looking is a delav for us and before we have even found it we lapse a second time and before a contemplative gaze opens up and w hat our heart w ishes for is vanished.
"The reason for this confusion is quite evident.
It is that we had nothing settled, no special formula w hich we could hold constantly before our eyes, one to which the wandering mind could return after many wanderings and various travels, one that the mind could enter, as into a haven of peace after long shipw reck.
"So it happens that the mind, held back by ignorance of this and bv this difficultv, is forever w andering and is tossed in all directions, like a drunk.
If bv chance—and not because of any effort of its own it comes into direct encounter w ith something spiritual, it is pow erless to hold on to it firmly and for a long time. One thought follows another, arriving, coming to being, ending and going away—all without the mind noticing."
Isaac: "\\)ur query, in its precision and subtlety, shows how close to purity you are. Not everyone know s how to put questions about such things, let alone analyze and examine them, unless he has meditated carefully and deeply and is forever on the w atch to scrutinize these is-
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sues in depth.
I lis life has to be one of such constant mortification and effort that, so to speak, he can arrive at the threshold of purity and knock on its door.
"I am not suggesting that you are simply at the doorway of true prayer. Rather, your experience is such that you have touched upon the very central hidden mystery of prayer and have taken some hold of \\ hat it really is. And with the Lord as my guide it will not be too difficult for me to bring you in from the porch, where you walk uncertainly, and to lead you into the inner sanctum. Nor will you be prevented from understanding what I wish to show you. One is very close to knowledge when one clearly recognizes the questions to be asked. One is not far from true awareness when one begins to understand one's ignorance. And so I have no fear of being reproached for indiscretion or frivolity when I come to tell you what I left out of our «r'
•' earlier discussion of the perfection of prayer.
In my view you have reached the point where even without any word from me the grace of Ciod would have made such things known to you."
"You w ere quite right to make the comparison between training in continuous prayer and the teaching of children w ho at first do not know the alphabet, do not recognize letters, and are unable to write with a sure and firm hand. Models are put before them, carefully drawn in wax. By continually studying them, by practicing every day to reproduce them, they learn at last to write.
"I'he same happens with contemplation. You need a model and you keep it coastantly before your eyes. You learn either to turn it in a salutary w ay over and over in your spirit or else, as you use it and meditate upon it, you lift yourself upw ard to the most sublime sights.
"And what follows now is the model to teach you, the prayer formula for w hich you are searching. Every monk who w ants to think continuously about (jod should get accustomed to meditating endlessly on it and to banishing all other thoughts for its sake. But he will not hold on to it unless he breaks completely free from all bodily concerns and cares.
"1 his is something w hich has been handed on to us by some of the oldest of the Fathers and it is something w hich we hand on to only a very small number of the souls eager to know' it:
"To keep the thought of (lod always in your mind you must cling totally to this formula for piety: 'Come to my help, () God; Lord, hurry to my rescue' (Rs 69:2).
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"It is not without good reason that this verse has been chosen from the whole of Scripture as a device.
It carries within it all the feelings of w hich human nature is capable.
It can be adapted to everv condition and can be usefully deployed against every temptation.
It carries within it a cry of help to God in the face of every danger.
It expresses the humility of a pious confession.
It conveys the watchfulness born of unending worry and fear.
It conveys a sense of our frailty, the assurance of being heard, the confidence in help that is alwavs and evervwhere present. Someone forever calling out to his protector is indeed verv sure of having him close by. This is the voice filled with the ardor of love and of charity. This is the terrified crv of someone who sees the snares of the enemy, the cry of someone besieged day and night and exclaiming that he cannot escape unless his protector comes to the rescue.
"I'his short verse is an indomitable w all for all those struggling against the onslaught of demons.
It is an impenetrable breastplate and the sturdiest of shields. V\ hatever the disgust, the anguish, or the gloom in our thoughts, this verse keeps us from despairing of our salvation since it reveals to us the One to whom we call, the One who sees our struggles and w ho is never far from those who pray to I lim.
If things go well for us in spirit, if there is joy in our hearts, this verse is a w arning to us not to grow proud, not to get puffed up at being in a good condition which, as it demonstrates, cannot be retained without the protection of God for whose continuous and speedy help it prays.
Fhis little verse, I am saying, proves to be necessary and useful to each one of us and in all circumstances. For someone w ho needs help in all things is making clear that he requires the help of God not simply in hard and sad situations but equally amid fortunate and joyful conditions.
I le know s that God saves us from adversity and makes our joys linger and that in neither situation can human frailtv survive without Mis help.
"I am assailed by a passion for good eating.
I am on the w atch for fcx)d of which the desert knows nothing. Into the drabness of my solitary life come the fragrances of royal dishes and I feel myself dragged unw illingly along by my longing for them. And so I must say 'Come to my help, O God; G)rd, hurry to my rescue.'
"I am moved to think ahead to the time set aside for eating. W ith a great pain across the heart I struggle to hold on to my proper and accustomed measure of restraint. And so I must cry my groaning cry 'Come to mv help, O Ciod; I>ord, hurry to my rescue.'
"d he flesh attacks me, and I should fast more strictly. But weariness, or my parched, closed-in appetite keep me back. And if my hopes
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arc to be hilfillcd, if the fevered stirrings of tleshlv desire are to be t|iiietened dow n, then
I must pray '(>)me to mv help, () (lod; Lord, hurry to mv rescue.'
"d lie due hour has come to bid me eat, but the bread disgusts me and I am held back from necessary food. And so I must how l '(vome to mv help, () (iod; Lord, hurrv to my rescue.'
"I w ant to read, so as to keep my thoughts in order. A headache keeps me from it. Or, at the third hour, sleepiness inclines my face onto the sacred page and I have an urge either to skip the appointed time for rest or to anticipate it. During assemblv sleep weighs so much on me that I am forced to interrupt the canonical recitation of the psalms. And so too I must erv '(^omc to mv help, O (iod; I.ord, hurry to my rescue.'
"Sleep has left mv eves.
I see mvself worn dow n bv sleeplessness over manv nights and shut aw av from all the refreshment of mv night's rest. And so I must sigh and pray '(iome to my help, () (iod; Lord, hurry to mv rescue.'
"I lere I am, still fighting against my sins, fhe temptation of the tlesh SLiddenlv stirs me and w ith its smooth delight it tries as I sleep to drag me into giving mv consent. And so if an alien raging fire is not to burn the sw eetlv fragrant tlow ers of chastity
1 must erv '(iome to mv help, () (iod; Lord, hurrv to mv rescue.'
"I feel the goad of desire gone dead, the fever in my loins gone cold.
And if this acquired virtue is to stay, if the grace of God is to remain longer or indeed forever, I must be sure to say '(iome to mv help, O
(iod; Lord, hurry to my rescue.'
"I am troubled bv the pangs of rage, of greed, of gloom.
I am draw n to scatter that gentleness w hich 1 had embraced as mv ow n. And so if I am not to be carried off by turbulent rage into bitterness
I must groan mightily and call out '(iome to mv help, O (iod; Lord, hurrv to my rescue.'
"I am tempted by boredom, by vainglory, by the surge of pride.
My mind takes subtle pleasure in the negligence or the easy-going attitude of others. And so if this devilish prompting of the enemy is not to overcome me I must pray in all contrition of heart '(iome to my help,
O (iod; Lord, hurry to my rescue.'
"I have won the grace of humility and simplicity. W ith contrite spirit I have laid off the yoke of pride. But I am afraid that 'the arrogant fast may come against me, that the hand of the sinner may drive me out' (Ps 35:12). And so if I am not to suffer a more grievous wound as
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a consequence of the joy of my victory I must use all mv strength to say aloud 'Come to my help, O God; Lord hurry to mv rescue.'
"In my soul are countless and varied distractions.
I am in a fever as my heart moves this w ay and that.
I have no strength to hold in check the scatterings of my thoughts.
I cannot utter mv prayer w ithout interruption, v\ ithout being visited by empty images and bv the memory of w ords and doings.
I feel myself bound in by such sterility that I cannot bring to birth any spiritual feelings w ithin me. And so if I am to deserve liberation from this bleakness of spirit from w hich my groans and sighs have been unable to save me I shall be obliged to cry out 'Come to my help, O God; Lord, hurry to my rescue.'
"I feel that my spirit has once more found a sense of direction, that my thinking has grow n purposeful, that because of a visit of the I lolv Spirit my heart is unspeakably glad and my mind ecstatic.
I lere is a great overflow' of spiritual thoughts, thanks to a sudden illumination and to the coming of the Savior. 1 he holiest ideas, hitherto concealed from me, have been revealed to me. And so if I am to deserve to remain thus for much longer, I must anxiously and regularly cry 'Come to my help, O God; I>ord, hurry to my rescue.'
"At night the devils surround me w ith their horrors.
I am bothered bv the images of unclean spirits. My quivering terror drags aw ay mv very hope of salvation and of life. And so I shall fly to the saving port of this little verse and with all my strength
I will exclaim 'Come to my help, O God; Lord, hurry to my rescue.'
".\gain, w hen I have been made w hole by the consolation of the Lord, w hen I have been encouraged by His coming, w hen
I feel myself guarded bv countless thousands of angels, when I have the daring to seek out and call to battle those whom I once feared more than death, those whose mere touch or presence filled me, mind and body, v\'ith terror, then indeed if I am to hold on to this strength of purpose
I must, w ith all my strength, cry 'Come to my help, O Ciod; Lord, hurry to my rescue.'
"Our prayer for rescue in bad times and for protection against pride in good times should be founded on this verse, d'he thought of this verse should be turning unceasingly in vour heart. Never cease to recite it in w hatever task or service or journey you find yourself, d hink upon it as you sleep, as you eat, as you submit to the most basic demands of nature, d his heartfelt thought w ill prove to be a formula of salvation for you. Not only will it protect you against all devilish attack.
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but it \\ ill purify you from the stain of all earthly sin and v\ ill lead you on to the contemplation of the unseen and the heayenly and to that fiery urgency of prayer w hich is indescribable and w hich is experienced by yery few . Sleep should come upon you as you meditate on this v erse until as a result of your habit of resorting to its words you get in the habit of repeating them ev en in your slumbers.
" fhis verse should be the first thing to occur to you when you vv ake up.
It should precede all your thoughts as you keep vigil.
It should take you over as you rise from your bed and go to kneel. After this it should accompany you in all your works and deeds.
It should be at your side at all times. Follow ing the precept of Moses, you will think upon it 'as you sit at home or w alk along your way' (Dt 6:7), as you sleep or w hen you get up. You w ill write it upon the threshold and gateway of your mouth, you will place it on the w alls of your house and in the inner sanctum of your heart.
It will be a continuous prayer, an endless refrain w hen you bow dow n in prostration and w hen you rise up to do all the necessary things of life.
II "I'he soul must grab fiercely onto this formula so that after saying it oyer and oyer again, after meditating upon it without pause, it has the strength to reject and to refuse all the abundant riches of thought.
Grasping the poyerty of this little v erse it w ill come all the more easily to that first of all the gospel beatitudes, 'Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven' (Mt 5:3). The one w ho is outstanding because of this kind of pov erty will fulfill the w ord of the prophet,
'The poor man and the indigent man w ill praise the name of the Lord'
(Ps 73:21).
"Indeed, what poverty can be greater and more holy than that of the man w ho recognizing that he has no defense and no strength begs each day for the largess of another and w ho understands that his life and being are at every moment sustained by divine help? He will rightly be called the Lord's mendicant as he cries out to Him in daily supplication, 'I am a mendicant and a poor man, but (lod helps me' (Ps
39:18). Cjod 1 limself will give him light to rise up to the many-shaped know ledge of I lis being.
I le w ill enable him to feast on the sight of the most sublime and hidden mysteries.
' Fhe mountain-tops are for the "The prophet puts the matter thus: deer and the rocks for the hedgehogs' (Ps 103:18). And this fits in very well w ith the point I have been making. Someone who perseveres in
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simplicity and innocence is a danger and a menace to no one.
1 le is satisfied \\ ith his simplicity. All he wants is to be protected from being a prey to his enemies. He is a sort of hedgehog of the spirit hidden under that protective rock of w hich Scripture speaks.
Ehat is to say, he is protected by the memory of the I >ord's passion and by his unceasing meditation upon the little verse of v\ hich
I have been speaking, and so he is protected against the ambushes of the circling enemy. Concerning these hedgehogs of the spirit the follow ing is said in Proverbs: 'The hedgehogs, a weak race, make their homes among the rocks' (Prv 30:26).
"To tell the truth, w hat is w eaker than a Christian? What is more drained than a monk who lacks not only the means to avenge the w rongs done to him but w ho cannot even allow the lightest and the most silent emotion to stir w ithin him?
"Someone like this, someone w ho has not only reached the state of having the simplicity of the innocent but w ho is fortified by the virtue of discernment, becomes the exterminator of the most vicious serpents and he keeps Satan under foot.
The zeal of his soul makes him like a spiritual deer w ho feeds on the high mountains of the prophets and the apostles, that is, on their most high and most exalted teachings.
Nourished by this food, which he continually eats, he penetrates so deeply into the thinking of the psalms that he sings them not as though they had been composed by the prophet but as if he himself had w ritten them, as if this were his ow n private prayer uttered amid the deepest compunction of heart. Certainly he thinks of them as having been specially composed for him and he recognizes that what they express was made real not simply once upon a time in the person of the prophet but that now, every day, they are being fulfilled in himself.
" fhen indeed the Scriptures lie ever more clearly open to us. fhey are revealed, heart and sinew. Our experience not only brings us to know' them but actually anticipates w hat they convey. Ehe meaning of the words comes through to us not just by w ay of commentaries but by w hat we ourselves have gone through. Seized of the identical feelings in w hich the psalm w as composed or sung we become, as it were, its author. W e anticipate its idea instead of follow ing it. W'e have a sense of it even before we make out the meaning of the words.
I he sacred w ords stir memories w ithin us, memories of the daily attacks w hich w e have endured and are enduring, the cost of our negligence or the profits of our zeal, the good things of providence and the deceits of the enemy, the slippery subtle tricks of memory, the blemishes of human frailty, the improvidence of ignorance. As we sing we are reminded of all this.
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W e find all these sentiments expressed in the psalms.
W'e see very elearlv, as in a mirror, w hat is being said to us and vve have a deeper understanding of it.
Instructed by our own experiences we are not reallv learning through hearsav but have a feeling for these sentiments as things that we have alreadv seen.
Fhey are not like things confided to our capacitv for remembrance but, rather, w e bring them to birth in the depths of our hearts as if thev were feelings naturally there and part of our being. W'e enter into their meaning not because of what we read but because of w hat w e have experienced earlier.
"And so our soul w ill arrive at that purity of prayer reached, to the extent that the Lord permitted it, by the sequence of discussion in my earlier (Conference.
"d'his praver centers on no contemplation of some image or other.
It is masked by no attendant sounds or words.
It is a fiery outbreak, an indescribable exaltation, an insatiable thrust of the soul, f ree of w hat is sensed and seen, ineffable in its groans and sighs, the soul pours itself out to Cjod."
(icrmanus: "W'e have asked you for w hat was handed on as a tradition of spiritualitv. But you have given us more, for we think that it is perfection itself w hich you have described in an open and clear way.
W hat could be more perfect and more sublime than to be able to latch onto (iod in a brief meditation, to leave all the boundaries of the visible world by means of reflection upon one little verse, and to pull together in a few v\'ords the sentiments engendered by all the forms of prayer?
"But we must ask you to explain our last point.
I low' can w e firmly hold on to this verse w hich you have given us as a formula? How can we keep it in such a way that, by God's grace, we are freed from the follies of earthly thoughts and are enabled to keep spiritual ideas unshakably w ithin us?
"Our minds think of some passage of a psalm. But it is taken aw ay from us without our noticing it, and, stupidly, unknow ingly, the spirit slips on to some other text of Scripture.
It begins to think about it, but before it gets to fully grasp it another text slides into the memory and drives out the earlier one. Meanwhile another one arrives and there is a further turnabout.
I he spirit rolls along from psalm to psalm, leaps from the gospel to Saint Paul, from Paul to the prophets, from there to
CONFERENCE TEN
incidents of spirituality Ever on the move, forever w andering, it is tossed along through all the body of Scripture, unable to settle on anvthing, unable to reject anything or to hold on to anvthing, pow erless to arrive at any full and judicious study, a dilettante and speedv taster of spiritual ideas rather than their creator and possessor. And so the mind is alwavs on the move, and at the time of assemblv it is pulled, like a drunk, in every direction and it performs no task competently W hen it is speaking aloud in prayer, it thinks of a psalm or something else.
\\ hen it is singing it is preoccupied w ith something other than the text of the psalm. \\ hen it is engaged in reading aloud it remembers something it w ishes to do or to have done. In this w av it neither turns to nor leaves anv theme in a disciplined or opportune manner.
It seems to be a victim of chance.
It has not the pow er either to hold on to or to linger over w hat pleases it.
"Therefore it is essential for us to know above all else how we can properlv perform these spiritual duties. And certainlv we ought to know how w e are to keep a firm hold of that little verse w hich vou have given us as a formula so that all our ideas should cease to appear and disappear in their ow n inconstant w av but should remain under our control."
Isaac: "I think I have alreadv answered your question in what I had to sav earlier about the condition of prayer. Nevertheless, since you have asked me to repeat it, 1 w ill briefly explain the method of keeping our hearts still.
I hree things keep a w andering mind in place—vigils, meditation, and praver. (Constant attention to them and a firm concentration upon them will give stability' to the soul. But such stability cannot be obtained except bv a continuous effort made not for the sake of ambitiousness but because of the requirements of the present wav of life.
I his is the wav to break out of the w orries and the cares of the present life and to make possible for us the realization of the apostolic injunction 'Pray w ithout cease' (1 I hes 5:17).
"The one accustomed to prayer only w hen he bends the knee prays verv little. Ehe one w ho on bended knee gives himself over to distraction is not praying at all. Before the time of prayer w e must put ourselves in the state of mind we would wish to have in us when we actually prav.
It is an inexorable fact that the condition of the soul at the time of praver depends upon what shaped it beforehand. 1 he soul w ill rise
JOHN CASSIAN
to the heights of heaven or plunge into the things of earth, depending upon where it lingered before the time of prayer."
I'hus, then, was the second (>)nference of the monk Isaac on the nature of prayer. We listened to it with deep amazement. We were full of astonishment at what he taught concerning the meditation upon this verse \\ hich was under discussion and which he urged upon beginners as a w ay of formation. We very much wanted to put it into practice.
W'e thought \\ c had here a short and easy method. Hut in fact w e found that it proved less easy than our regular habit of looking here and there in the body of Scripture for meditation themes w ithout being bound by anv one of them.
"But at least this much is clear. No one is shut off from perfection because of illiteracy. Lack of culture is no bar to that purity of heart and soul which lies quite close by to everyone. Constant meditation upon this verse will keep the mind wholly and entirely upon God."