Today’s weekly wisdom is again culled from Thomas Merton’s great little book, The Wisdom of the Desert. It is a delight to peruse and too often hits squarely between the eyes. The thing that again and again touches me is that the wisdom of these ascetics (people living difficult lives; living in poverty; and often alone for great stretches by choice) is more often than not the offer of grace. Oh, how we need to learn to be gracious. Oh, how I need to learn to be gracious - I am often willing to look at my life through the eyes of grace; but when it comes to the other the lenses of judgement often skews my view.

“An elder was asked by a certain soldier if God would forgive a sinner. And he said to him: Tell me, beloved, if your cloak is torn, will you throw it away? The soldier replied and said: No. I will mend it and put it back on. The elder said to him: If you take care of your cloak, will God not be merciful to His own image?” [Merton p. 76]

And one more today:

“One of the brethren had sinned, and the priest told him to leave the community. So then Abbot Bessarion got up and walked out with him, saying: I too am a sinner!” [Merton p. 40]

Ahhh - Stability. The virtue of persevering - in this instance persevering in relation to place. This is a much needed piece of wisdom that I need to hear and one for our overly mobile culture. Lord, help me, as Benedict admonishes, to listen (and there is that metaphor of trees - I am seeing a theme in my life!).

“An elder said: Just as a tree cannot bear fruit if it is often transplanted, so neither can a monk bear fruit if he frequently changes his abode.”

(quoted from Thomas Merton’s, The Wisdom of the Desert p. 34)

In light of all my cutting of trees lately this bit of wisdom seemed appropos…

“Ammon questioned Poemen on the subject of the impure thoughts within the heart, and on the subject of vain desire.

Poemen said, ‘Can the axe do any harm unless the woodman is using it? Do not reach out your hands to use those things, and they will do you no harm.’”

Today we turn to the topic and critical discipline of stillness and the imperative that without stillness of the body - we can never achieve inner stillness. The pages of The Philokalia again are the source of our wisdom.

“He [or she] who wants to cross the spiritual sea is long-suffering, humble, vigilant, and self-controlled. If one impetuously embarks on it without these four virtues, he agitates his heart, but cannot cross. Stillness helps us by making evil inoperative. If it also takes to itself these four virtues in prayer, it is the most direct support in attaining dispassion. The intellect cannot be still unless the body is still also; and the wall between them cannot be demolished without stillness and prayer.” [St. Mark the Ascetic I, On Those Who Think They Are Made Righteous By Works, Sec. 29-31. As quoted in Selections From the Philokalia p. 165]

Weekly wisdom continues as we head into the sunny and stormy mid to late July. In the summer - the sky can be deceiving in one instance blue skies and in a matter of moments the atmosphere changes with dark clouds rain, hail and wind descending.

It is what came to mind as I read from the Philokalia this morning.

“I entreat you not to leave your heart unguarded, as long as you are in the body. Just as a farmer cannot feel confident about the crop growing in his fields, because he does not know what will happen to it before it is stored away in his granary, so a man should not leave his heart unguarded as long as he still has breath in his nostrils. Up to his last breath he cannot know what passion will attack him; as long as he breathes, therefore, he must not leave his heart unguarded, but should at every moment pray to God for his help and mercy.” [St. Isaiah the Solitary from I, On Guarding the Intellect, sec. 15]

The wisdom for today comes from Skylight Paths book, Philokalia (The Eastern Christian Spiritual Texts: Selections Annotated & Explained). The Philokalia is a very revered and important text in the Orthodox tradition. Briefly, philokalia is a greek word meaning, “love of the beautiful.” The work which bears this title contains stories and teachings from the monks on “the holy mountain.” The monastery on Mount Athos in Greece was/is known for it’s authentic spirituality, watchfulness, and practice of contemplative prayer - it was the combined wisdom from this well which flows to us through this ancient text (primarily from the 9th & 10th Century - although there are snippets from the 4th - 14th century that “sneak in”).

In the anonymous nineteenth-century Russian classic The Way of a Pilgrim, the pilgrim asks a staretz, or spiritual father, whether the Philokalia is “more exalted and holier than the Bible.” The staretz answers:

“No, it is not more exalted or holier than the Bible, but it contains enlightened explanations of what is mystically contained in the Bible, and it is so lofty that it is not easily comprehended by our shortsighted intellect. Le me give you an illustration. The sun is the greatest, the most resplendent and magnificent source of light, but you cannot contemplate or examine it with the simple naked eye. You would need to use a special viewing lens, which, though a million times smaller and dimmer than the sun, would enable you to study this magnificent source of all light and to endure and delight in its fiery rays. Thus the Holy Scriptures are like a brillant sun, for which the Philokalia is the lens needed in order to view it.” (The Way of a Pilgrim, p. 15)

So, take up the Philokalia and read it!

Our weekly wisdom from the Philokalia:

“Truly blessed is the man whose mind and heart are as closely attached to the Jesus Prayer* and to the ceaseless invocation of his name as air to the body or flames to the wax. The sun rising over the earth creates the daylight; and the venerable and holy name of the Lord Jesus, shining continually in the mind, gives birth to countless intellections as radiant as the sun.” (St. Hesychios the Priest; I On Whatchfulness and Holiness, sec. 196)

*The Jesus Prayer is a foundational practice in the Orthodox tradition which incorporates the following prayer into everyday living: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me a sinner.

Today - our midweek dip into the wisdom of those early Christian ascetics continues. Today we are guided to look at our appetites - what do we find ourselves hungry for? What do we crave?

“Abbot Palladius said: The soul that wishes to live according to the will of Christ should either learn faithfully what it does not yet know, or teach openly what it does know. But if, when it can, it desires to do neither of these things, it is afflicted with madness. For the first step away from God is a distaste for learning, and lack of appetite for those things for which the soul hungers when it seeks God.”

(from Thomas Merton, The Wisdom of the Desert pp. 44-45)

This weeks wisdom is from Abbot Theodore of Pherme (paraphrased by Thomas Merton from The Wisdom of the Desert p. 35).

“Another brother asked the same elder, Abbot Theodore, and began to question him and to inquire about things which he had never yet put into practice himself. The elder said to him: As yet you have not found the ship, and you have not put your baggage aboard, and you have not started to cross the sea: can you talk as if you had already arrived in that city to which you planned to go? When you have put into practice the thing you are talking about, then speak from the knowledge of the the thing itself!”

So three weeks in and I missed a Wednesday already! Today’s offering is short but sweet from St. Evagrios of Pontus (345-399 AD). His writings have been passed on to us through the Eastern Church’s principal text The Philokalia. [I will post on the significance of this text in the very near future.]

Today’s wisdom:

“If you are a theologian, you will pray truly. And if you pray truly you are a theologian.”

Last week I began this series I so innovatively (a doug-ism, apparently) entitled, “wisdom for wednesday” - if you haven’t a clue - you can catch up by reading last weeks post, here.

This week our wisdom is again taken from The Wisdom of the Desert by Thomas Merton (p. 25-26).

“A brother asked one of the elders: ‘What good thing shall I do, and have life thereby?’

The older man replied: ‘God alone knows what is good. However, I have heard it said that someone inquired of Father Abbot Nisteros the great, the friend of Abbot Anthony, asking: what good work shall I do? and that he replied:

Not all works are alike. For Scripture says that Abraham was hospitable and God was with him. Elias loved solitary prayer, and God was with him. And David was humble, and God was with him.

Therefore, whatever you see your soul to desire according to God, do that thing, and you shall keep your heart safe.’”