Stages of a Discovery: Guéranger and Me, Part 1

Archimandrite Placide (Deseille) opens his fascinating conversion story, ‘Stages of a Pilgrimage’, with an expression of gratitude to ‘everyone who contributed to my human and spiritual education’. He writes:

Beginning with my family, I was shaped in the school of the Church’s great liturgical and patristic tradition. My grandmother and my two paternal aunts, who influenced me greatly, had as their bedside reading Dom Cabrol’s Book of Ancient Prayer, and Dom Guéranger’s Liturgical Year, books which contained a great many splendid texts from the ancient liturgies of West and East. [1]

Not ever having been Catholic, when I read Fr Placide’s account for the first time—back in 2001—it was the first I had heard of either of these writers. But I was interested because it sounded as though they might have some points of connection with Orthodoxy. While I never did follow up on ‘Dom Cabrol’, however, another reference to Guéranger in a completely different source ensured that I would do a bit more digging on him.

It was when I discovered the website of the eccentric Catholic monarchist, Charles Coulombe. In the midst of his ‘Ultra-Realism FAQ’—the merits of which I leave readers to decide for themselves—he begins his list of ‘famous ultra-realists and/or Christian Neoplatonists’ with a reference to—

St Dionysius the Areopagite, convert of St Paul, first Bishop of Athens, first Bishop of Paris, and author of The Divine Hierarchies and other works. (Yes, I am aware that people since Luther have declared that these four qualities belong to four separate Dionysii, and insist on calling the author the ‘Pseudo-Dionysius’; I consider their pretensions exploded by the writings of such as Dom Guéranger and the martyred Archbishop Darboy).

That was all. No footnote or anything. Curious to see how these ‘pretensions’ had been ‘exploded by the writings of Dom Guéranger’, and assuming that the writings in question meant the Liturgical Year, I eventually went to great lengths to track down a copy of the portion of that work that dealt with St Dionysius.

I began of course by looking online. Google Books has a couple of volumes of the Liturgical Year, but neither contains material on St Dionysius. I found a blog chronicling a fellow’s reading of Guéranger, but with basically no excerpts from the books at all. I even tried going by the ‘Pastoral Center’ of the local RC Archdiocese and searching the library. The librarian there had no idea what I was talking about, and a long browse yielded lots of interesting books, but no Guéranger. I was getting desperate.

Finally, one summer I went to the library website of the nearest Benedictine college, St Gregory’s in Shawnee, Oklahoma. I searched the online catalogue, and at last, there it was! I wrote down the call number, grabbed a couple of friends for company, and headed off on the 45-minute drive to Shawnee. Although somewhat disappointing to someone whose imagination has been fed by Name of the Rose, St Gregory’s is one of the more mediæval things we have in Oklahoma. I was very excited as I entered the building, call number in hand, and walked into the mostly empty library to the shelves . . . only to find that it wasn’t there. I saw the book that came before it, and the one that came after it, but the entire 15-vol. or so set of the Liturgical Year was not there.

This librarian was more helpful. Although there was the obligatory walk back over to the shelf I had just examined, she spent some real time looking around in the computer system. At last, she told me that she was going to ask one of the monks, who worked in—I believe—the ‘archives’. Now I don’t remember the name of this monk, but it was ‘Brother Something-or-other’. Perhaps ‘Brother Theobald’? I don’t know. She called him on a phone, and after a little wait, she said he knew right where it was.

Then there was a longer wait. I looked around at the shelves a bit more to pass the time, when at last Brother Theobald appeared. A man of 45 or so, he was wearing his black Benedictine habit, and—get this—he was limping! He limped over to me, and held out a small, hardbound book of some 100 years saying, ‘Be careful with it. It’s very old.’ Although the library was carpeted and lit with fluorescent lights and was typical of a small college library built in the 1950s, we might as well have been in the vast Gothic labyrinth of Eco’s novel, the limping monk corresponding thrillingly with the blind Jorge stingily retrieving only the books that he has approved the monks to read, or at least poisoning the pages of the others. After that, I had the lady from the desk do the photocopying for me.

To be continued . . .


[1] Archim. Placide (Deseille), ‘Stages of a Pilgrimage’, The Living Witness of the Holy Mountain: Contemporary Voices from Mt Athos, ed. & tr. Hieromonk Alexander (Golitzin) (South Canaan, PA: STS, 1995), p. 63.

'Guiding the Four-horsed Chariot'—St Diadochus of Photiki

Today, 29 March on the Church’s calendar, we celebrate the memory of St Diadochus, Bishop of Photiki in Epirus. Olivier Clément calls him ‘one of the principal spiritual authorities of the Christian East, and one of the first witnesses to the “Jesus prayer”’, [1] and St Diadochus occupies an honoured place in the Philokalia. But because it’s a Sunday (on which day I usually get little traffic), and because I’m still rather worn out from the conference and have already produced a lengthy post on St Diadochus (here), I will keep this one quite short. First, Archimandrite Placide (Deseille) on his life and teaching:

Very little is known about the life of Diadochus. He was Bishop of Photike in Epirus at the time of the Council of Chalcedon (451). Before that he had undoubtedly been the superior of a monastic community and may have stayed in Carthage after having been abducted by t he fleet of Genseric during a Vandal raid into Epirus between 467 and 474. That ‘would explain the influence which the Hundred Chapters of Diadochus seem to have exercised on a treatise of the end of the fifth century, the Contemplative Life of Julian Pomerus (who lived in Arian Africa before becoming, in Gaul, the master of Caesarius of Arles)’ (E. des Places, Introduction to Didadochus of Photike, Oeuvres spirituelles (SC 5 ter) Paris, 1966, pp. 9-10). [2] He died about 474.

The teaching of Diadochus, formulated in a language that reveals an excellent literary culture and a very personal spiritual experience, echoes the tradition of early monasticism. Diadochus knew Evagrius, but he is above all dependent upon the Spiritual Homilies attributed to Macarius of Egypt. Like Macarius, he insists on the experiential aspect of the spiritual life while also fighting against the Messalian deviations.

Diadochus exposes the various phases of invisible combat, the pedagogical withdrawals of divine grace, the importance of a constant remembrance of God, and the invocation of the name of Jesus. Spiritual progress allows the awakening of the ‘sense of the spirit’, thanks to which man will taste the sweetness of God ‘in a feeling of total certainty’. [3]

In conclusion, I’ll offer a longish passage from St Diadochus’s Philokalic treatise, ‘On Spiritual Knowledge & Discrimination: One Hundred Texts’. Here the Bishop of Photiki makes use of the chariot imagery which he himself notes in 4 Kgds. 2:12 LXX, but which, although he doesn’t mention them, can also be found in St Macarius’s first Spiritual Homily [4] and the Biblical text St Macarius is interpreting—Ezekiel 1:4-2:1. Of course, St Diadochus’s interpretation of the chariot as the yoking together of the soul’s faculties is also quite reminiscent of Plato’s Phaedrus 246a-254e, [5] and the Saint’s comment that ‘God spoke clearly about the four cardinal virtues first of all to the Jews’ almost seems to be an oblique reference to Plato, dismissing the claim that this teaching is somehow derived from him.

62. The incensive power usually troubles and confuses the soul more than any other passion, yet there are times when it greatly benefits the soul. [6] For when with inward calm we direct it against blasphemers or other sinners in order to induce them to men their ways or at least feel some shame, we make our soul more gentle. In this way we put ourselves completely in harmony with the purposes of God’s justice and goodness. In addition, through becoming deeply angered by sin we often overcome weaknesses in our soul. Thus there is no doubt that if, when deeply depressed, we become indignant in spirit against the demon of corruption, this gives us the strength to despise even the presumptuousness of death. In order to make this clear, the Lord twice became indignant against death and troubled in spirit (cf. John 12:27, 13:21); and despite the fact that, untroubled, He could by a simple act of will do all that He wished, none the less when He restored Lazarus’ soul to his body He was indignant and troubled in spirit (cf. John 11:33)—which seems to me to show that a controlled incensive power is a weapon implanted in our nature by God when He creates us. If Eve had used this weapon against the serpent, she would not have been impelled by sensual desire. In my view, then, the man who in a spirit of devotion makes controlled use of his incensive power will without doubt be judged more favourably than the man who, because of the inertness of his intellect, has never become incensed. The latter seems to have an inexperienced driver in charge of his emotions, while the former, always ready for action, drives the horses of virtue through the midst of the demonic host, guiding the four-horsed chariot of self-control in the fear of God. This chariot is called ‘the chariot of Israel’ in the description of the taking up of the prophet Elijah (cf. 4 Kgds. 2:12 LXX); for God spoke clearly about the four cardinal virtues first of all to the Jews. This is precisely why Elijah ascended in a fiery chariot, guiding his own virtues as horses, when he was carried up by the Spirit in a gust of fire. [7]

[1] Olivier Clément, The Roots of Christian Mysticism: Text & commentary, 3rd ed., tr. Theodore Berkeley, OCSO, rev. Jeremy Hummerstone (London: New City, 1995), p. 323.

[2] Fr Placide also notes, ‘In this introduction, E. des Places makes an error of perspective by presenting Didadochus especially as an adversary of ‘Macarius’; he is rather a disciple gifted with discernment’ (Archim. Placide [Deseille], Orthodox Spirituality & the Philokalia, tr. Anthony P. Gythiel [Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2008), p. 194, n. 7).

[3] Ibid., p. 20.

[4] St Macarius the Great, The Fifty Spiritual Homilies & the Great Letter, tr. Fr George A. Maloney (NY: Paulist, 1992), pp. 37-44.

[5] Plato, ‘Phaedrus’, tr. Alexander Nehamas & Paul Woodruff, Complete Works, ed. John M. Cooper & D.S. Hutchinson (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1997), pp. 524-32.

[6] I have already posted a bit on this subject here.

[7] St Diadochus of Photiki, ‘On Spiritual Knowledge & Discrimination: One Hundred Texts’, The Philokalia, Vol. 1, tr. G.E.H. Palmer, et al. (London: Faber, 1983), p. 272.

On the Teachings of Evagrius

While acknowledging that the Church has not recognised him as a Saint, in a previous post (here) I cautiously honoured the life of the 4th-c. ascetic theologian, Evagrius Ponticus. I also expressed my hope to revisit some of the controversial issues surrounding his teaching and influence, and that is what I intend to do in this post. This was initially prompted by a comment I received on a post back in January (here):

St Basil is ‘sidelined’ as the father of monasticism because he is the father of that monasticism that finally condemned Origen, Evagrius, Didimus [sic], that the ‘West’ annointed as the fathers of ‘Christian mysticism and ascetics’. [1]

Now, we all know that the speculative teachings of these three writers were anathematised at the Fifth Œcumenical Council, some of the most obvious problems in them being the preexistence of souls and universalism. But it is also clear that the Orthodox Tradition has not dismissed them entirely. Ss Basil the Great and Gregory the Theologian themselves compiled a collection of passages from Origen’s works called the Philokalia, both were early mentors of Evagrius, and the latter’s influential ascetic works were much later incorporated into the more well-known Philokalia compiled by Ss Macarius of Corinth and Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain (though some of Evagrius’s writing was passed down under the name of St Nilus the Ascetic). (Most of Didymus’s works were apparently lost and as far as I can tell seem to have had little subsequent influence.)

But these observations hardly do justice, on the one hand, to the simple diligence of countless Orthodox scribes, monks, and even Saints in copying the words of these writers, without which none of their work would have survived, and on the other, to the well-documented influence they exercised on subsequent Orthodox Fathers throughout the centuries in their terminology, patterns of thought, and even their exegetical and spiritual teaching. All of this suggests that, while we accept the discernment of our Fathers in condemning the heretical teachings of these writers, there is yet something worthwhile in them from which we can profit. While I personally can’t say much about Origen, I have read quite a bit of Evagrius Ponticus (c. 345-399), and I would like to respond to what reads like a sneering dismissal of his writings in the above comment. As St John the Prophet of Gaza writes in response to the question, ‘Should we not, then, read even the works of Evagrius?’, in Letter 602:

Do not accept such doctrines [e.g., apokatastasis] from his works; but go ahead and read, if you like, those works that are beneficial for the soul, according to the parable about the net in the Gospel. For it has been written: ‘They placed the good into baskets, but threw out the bad’ (Mt 13.48). You, too, should do the same. [2]

Thus, Jean Leclerq, OSB, notes, ‘The writings left by Evagrius have contributed to the building of the spiritual tradition from which we all draw’, [3] and according to Fr Placide (Deseille), ‘The Greek hesychast tradition follows entirely in its wake.’ [4] Similarly, Fr Andrew Louth observes that Evagrius’s ‘mystical theology’, which ‘clearly arose out of his own participation in the lived tradition of the Desert Fathers, out of his own experience of the eremitical life’,

was gratefully accepted by Eastern monasticism and his most important works on the monastic way of prayer (as opposed to speculation about the metaphysical presuppositions of that way)—the Praktikos and On Prayer—were preserved in Greek, and exercised an enormous influence on Eastern Orthodox spiritual and mystical theology. [5]

Of course, this influence was not absolute. The editors of the Faber edition of the Philokalia note that St John Cassian, ‘transmitted the “practical” aspect of Evagrios’ teachings to the Latin West’, but abandoned ‘the suspect theories that Evagrios derived from Origen’. [6] Fr Andrew Louth sketches ‘the Evagrian pattern’ as it influenced St Maximus the Confessor, then observes:

But it is not present in Maximus’ writings unchanged. To begin with, behind Evagrius’ teaching on prayer and ascetic struggle there lay his ‘Origenist’ metaphysic, with which Maximus profoundly disagreed, and of which he was its greatest critic. But he was a critic with great sympathy for what he criticized, and extremely anxious not to throw out the baby with the bath-water. At the level of ascetic theology, Maximus is able to preserve most of what Evagrius taught, and he does. But he thinks it through again, and though many of the concepts and terms he uses are clearly Evagrian, what is expressed is no less distinctively Maximian. [7]

But both of these comments assume an absolutely Origenist reading of Evagrius’s Kephalaia Gnostika, a reading which also calls the framework of the Pontian’s other writings into question. This reading has, however, itself been called into question. Fr Placide observes:

Nowhere has Evagrius given a systematic exposition of this cosmology, nor of the Christology integral to it. Rather than accepting it as a literal doctrine, he undoubtedly understood it as a ‘myth’ in the Platonic sense, refracting it through the thousand facets of his Gnostic Chapters. Reduced to a system by later agitated disciples of Evagrius in the first half of the sixth century, the doctrine was first condemned in 543, then in 553, at the Fifth Ecumenical Council. [8]

Augustine Casiday has gone even further in discussing the lineaments of this Origenist reading of Evagrius. He notes that the contention of Antoine Guillaumont that the more Origenist of the two texts of the Kephalaia Gnostika was the original and, furthermore,

was directly responsible for the Christological controversies that resulted in the anathemas promulgated against Origen in 553 . . . relies on configuring Evagrius’ disconnected utterances in a specific way and (perhaps more troublingly) claiming that hostile statements resolving the Second Origenist Controversy provide the correct template for this reconfiguration. What justification have we for thinking that the later crisis provides us with the best pattern for Evagrius’ beliefs? [9]

Casiday notes that there are, in fact, ‘multiple traditions—some in direct competition with each other—that look back to Evagrius for inspiration’, thus contradicting ‘the idea that a privileged insight into his thinking was preserved by a single school of thought.’ Confronted with the task of interpreting Evagrius’s work as a whole, Casiday argues that ‘it is surely better to rely on the core of undisputedly authentic texts’. [10] He concludes:

In the light of how trenchantly orthodox Evagrius is shown to have been by his letter On the faith [Epistula fidei]—in which, incidentally, he has already begun to use the categories for the mystical contemplations that are found in his Great letter [Ad Melaniam] and Gnostic chapters [Kephalaia Gnostika]—it seems more sensible to begin our attempts to understand his admittedly obscure writings from the presumption of Cappadocian orthodoxy rather than to work backword from the presumption of Origenist heresy. This is not to cast doubt on the claim that Evagrius himself drew inspiration from Origen, which is beyond dispute. It simply means that we are now able to work forward from Origen (via the Cappadocians and Egyptians) to Evagrius and reconstruct Evagrius’ thinking with reference to a reasonably large corpus, without having to rely upon subsequent interpretations or evaluations of Evagrius’ writings. [11]

The ‘presumption of Cappadocian orthodoxy’ is greatly helped of course by the letter ‘On the faith’. Indeed, William Harmless recalls Palladius’s comment that Evagrius was ‘most skillful in confuting all the heresies’, noting: ‘The accuracy of this assessment has become clear with the discovery that a famous letter probing subtle aspects of Trinitarian doctrine, a letter long attributed to Basil, was in fact composed by Evagrius.’ [12] In other words, if Evagrius was capable of writing such a letter, was he capable at the same time of teaching that Christ is ‘different to all other rational beings only insofar as the human soul of Christ is further along the spectrum of spiritual progress that all rational beings must inevitably make’? [13]

I do not offer the opinions of Fr Placide and Casiday to say that I accept them whole-heartedly, but merely to call attention to the fact that there is another approach to be considered. To tell the truth, I have rather avoided looking into the Kephalaia Gnostika precisely because of its ‘suspect’ nature. What little I have seen confirms Harmless’s evaluation:

Unlike most literature of the desert, Evagrius’s works are not easy reading. . . . We know that he consciously cultivated a certain obscurity, at least on some matters. . . . This studied obscurity poses a real challenge for contemporary commentators. One has to decode Evagrius. [14]

One point that I do feel I can pronounce to be right on target, however, is that made by Marcus Plested in the chapter on ‘Macarius & Evagrius’ in his study of the Macarian Homilies. Plested notes the tendency, apparently initiated by Irenee Hausherr in a 1935 article, to bifurcate the entire history of Eastern spirituality into ‘Evagrian’ and ‘Macarian’ traditions. Thus, Fr John Meyendorff claims ‘writers can rightly be classified as disciples of Evagrius or of Macarius’. [15] Plested points out that Fr Alexander (Golitzin) has been one of the few ‘to seriously detract from what we might call the “dichotomist viewpoint”’. [16] Fr Alexander sees the Evagrian/Macarian dichotomy as perpetuating a false dichotomy between Hellenistic and Semitic traditions in Christianity—a dichotomy he has eloquently dismissed in the note I have quoted here, as well as in the following passage quoted by Plested:

The contradistinction of ‘mind’ and ‘heart’ reflects the Medieval Western opposition between ‘intellective’ and ‘affective’ mysticisms a little too much for my comfort. Evagrius is not an Eckhardt, nor is Macarius a Bernard of Clairvaux […]. Then too, the contrast implicit in this definition between a ‘biblical’ and a ‘platonizing’ Christianity strikes me as very questionable. Plato and company were quite as much involved in first-century Palestine as they were anywhere else in the Graeco-Roman world, and the ‘Greeks’ thus had a say in the formation of both Christianity and rabbinic Judaism. I do not, in short, believe that Evagrius’ nous and Macarius’ kardia are all that different from each other. [17]

But Plested finds Fr Alexander’s closing statement ‘too simple’. He agrees, ‘It is debatable whether either of the authors with whom we are dealing perceived any opposition between “head” and “heart”, between “intellective” and “affective” mysticisms.’ But then Plested adds, ‘In fact, Evagrius’ nous is contained within Macarius’ kardia—as we shall see.’ [18] Having considered the ‘intellectual-immaterial element in Macarius’, including the statement in Collection 1, 3.6.1 ‘the soul has been overpowered by material and unclean thoughts’ and that it must ‘rise out of such materiality’, [19] Plested writes:

It is misleading to depict Evagrius’ nous as straining to be released from the material creation—the body and soul are there to help the intellect and not to hinder it. Evagrius insists that to denigrate the body is to blaspheme the Creator and to deny the workings of providence. Evagrius has, in his own way, a unified understanding of the human person. Intellect, soul, and body form a whole: the intellect is directly linked to the rational part of the soul, the body to the irascible and desiring parts of the soul. Thus the soul constitutes the bond uniting the human person, taking a comparable role to that of the heart in Macarius. Furthermore, the quest for apatheia does not ential the quenching but rather the harnessing of the passionate parts of the soul—a Platonic insight—so that the soul desires knowledge and virtue and is angry and fights against the thoughts. . . . The spiritual life is not a struggle to transcend but to transform body and soul. This process is fulfilled in the eschaton. [20]

As promised, Plested has a number of things to say about Evagrius’s use of the words nous and kardia. He notes that in the Kephalaia Gnostika, Evagrius writes, ‘According to the word of Solomon, the nous is joined with the heart.’ [21] But Columba Stewart, OSB, believes that Evagrius ‘read “heart” as the biblical equivalent to “mind”’, [22] citing a comment from the Commentary on the Psalms: ‘it is customary in Scripture to have kardia instead of nous’. [23]

But at any rate, Plested’s conclusions are quite enlightening. He argues that ‘both may be seen as groping towards the expression of the same spiritual reality’, and notes: ‘In this light the Byzantine reading of Macarius and Evagrius (often under the guise of Nilus) becomes more readily comprehensible. Far from distinguishing ‘currents of spirituality’ the classical Byzantine approach was one of synthesis.’ [24] Finally, Plested concludes:

This interaction [between the Evagrian and Macarian teachings] was not one of opposing—or even sharply contrasting—spiritual currents, but rather the interplay of distinctive yet complementary insights into the nature of the Christian life. Despite coming from very different angles, the teachings of our authors—both of whom have nourished many generations of Christians . . . –are far from incompatible. [25]

I wish Plested’s approach was more common among patristic scholars, particularly those who claim to be working within the Orthodox Tradition. Alas, it seems so many are more interested in finding, first, handy but oversimplified classification schemas that cater to modern intellectual fashions, and second, the ‘originality’ and ‘uniqueness’ of the various patristic authors, that they are completely blind to that truth noted by St Ignatius (Brianchaninov):

When on a clear autumn night I gaze at the clear sky, sown with numberless stars, so diverse in size yet shedding a single light, then I say to myself: such are the writings of the Fathers! When on a summer day I gaze at the vast sea, covered with a multitude of diverse vessels with their unfurled sails like white swans’ wings, vessels racing under a single wind to a single goal, to a single harbor, I say to myself: such are the writings of the Fathers! When I hear a harmonious, many-voiced choir, in which diverse voices in elegant harmony sing a single Divine song, then I say to myself: such are the writings of the Fathers! [26]

[1] Of course, attributing this ‘sidelining’ to Western scholars is an over-generalisation, and was not meant to be pressed too far in my initial post. John Eudes Bamberger, OCSO, even in the middle of his ‘Introduction’ to Evagrius, uses a footnote to discuss the monasticism of St Basil in some detail (see The Praktikos & Chapters on Prayer, by Evagrius Ponticus, tr. John Eudes Bamberger, OCSO (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian, 1981), p. xxxvii, n. 56). Furthermore, it is by no means clear that he in any way prefers Evagrius's to St Basil's.

[2] Ss Barsanuphius & John, Letters, Vol. 2, tr. Fr John Chryssavgis (Washington, DC: Catholic U of America, 2007), p. 183; see Fr Louth on St Maximus, p. 38

[3] Jean Leclerq, OSB, ‘Preface’, The Praktikos, p. vii.

[4] Archimandrite Placide (Deseille), Orthodox Spirituality & the Philokalia, tr. Anthony P. Gythiel (Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2008), p. 18.

[5] Fr Andrew Louth, Maximus the Confessor, Early Church Fathers Series (London: Routledge, 1999), p. 113.

[6] G.E.H. Palmer, et al., tr. & ed., The Philokalia, Vol. 1 (London: Faber, 1983), p. 30.

[7] Fr Louth, pp. 37-8.

[8] Fr Placide, p. 18.

[9] Augustine M. Casiday, Evagrius Ponticus Early Church Fathers Series (London: Routledge, 2006), p. 28.

[10] Ibid., p. 29.

[11] Ibid., p. 30.

[12] William Harmless, SJ, Desert Christians: An Introduction to the Literature of Early Monasticism (NY: Oxford U, 2004), p. 313.

[13] Casiday, p. 28.

[14] Harmless, pp. 321-2.

[15] Qtd. in Marcus Plested, The Macarian Legacy: The Placeof Macarius-Symeon in the Eastern Christian Tradition (Oxford: Oxford U, 2004), p. 60.

[16] Ibid., p. 61.

[17] Hieromonk Alexander (Golitzin), ‘Hierarchy vs. Anarchy? Dionysius Areopagita, Symeon the New Theologian, Nicetas Stethatos, & Their Common Roots in Ascetical Tradition’, St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 38,2 (1994), p. 153; qtd. in Plested, pp. 61-2.

[18] Ibid., p. 62.

[19] Ibid., p. 65.

[20] Ibid., p. 66.

[21] Qtd. in ibid, p. 67.

[22] Columba Stewart, OSB, Cassian the Monk (Oxford: Oxford U, 1998), p. 42.

[23] Ibid., p. 166, n. 13.

[24] Plested, p. 70.

[25] Ibid., p. 71.

[26] Qtd. in Hieromonk Damascene (Christensen), Father Seraphim Rose: His Life & Works (Platina, CA: St Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 2003), p. 464.

'A Theologian by Virtue of Thy Life in God'—St Nazarius of Valaam

Today, 23 February on the Church’s calendar, we celebrate the memory of the Holy Nazarius (1735-1809), Abbot of Valaam. The Life of St Nazarius compiled and translated from 19th-c. sources by Fr Seraphim (Rose)—who, providentially, was tonsured on the day of St Nazarius’s repose [1]—describes him as ‘a man of virtue who loved the solitary life of silence in the wilderness.’ [2] We Orthodox in America are indebted to St Nazarius for sending us the extraordinary missionaries to Alaska, including the great St Herman. Here is the brief account of his life from the Valaam Patericon Book of Days:

A severe Sarov Monastery ascetic from the age of 17, and a counselor during the publication of the first Philokalia in Russia, he revived ancient Valaam, after almost two centuries of desolation, by installing the Sarov Rule there. Living such a refined spiritual life he inspired a whole army of holy monks for a century hence, including such saint-disciples as Herman of Alaska and later, Seraphim of Sarov. After sending off the first Orthodox Mission to America, he left Valaam to retire to Sarov, where in the bosom of nature he wandered the forest in a state of ecstasy, truly a monk not of this world. Abbot Nazarius was formed by great luminaries of his time: St Tikhon of Zadonsk, Elder Theodore of Sanaxar and St Paisius Velichkovsky. Even during his lifetime the holy foundress of Diveyevo Convent, Alexandra, would pray before his portrait when in trouble, and he would always hear from afar. Abbot Nazarius possessed a poetic gift of speech, which can be seen from his ‘Counsels’ to monks on daily life. . . . [3]

St Nazarius was a simple, unlearned man, but according to his Life, ‘The reading of the Holy Scriptures and the writings of the Fathers was the daily food of his soul.’ [4] Because of this study of the truly essential writings of the Church, and because of his great spiritual experience and wisdom, he was also able to contribute to one of the most influential literary endeavours in the Orthodox world since the 14th and 15th centuries: the translation and publication of the Philokalia in Slavonic. According to the biography of Metropolitan Gabriel of St Petersburg (1730-1801):

Metropolitan Gabriel, having received from Elder Paisius [Velichkovsky] from Moldavia the translation of the book, the Philokalia, chose Father Theophanes as one of the advisors together with the scholars of the seminary of St Alexander Nevsky. To them he entrusted this translation, because in this work was required not only a precise knowledge of the Greek language, but also a faithful and experienced understanding of spiritual life. Those who labored in the comparison of the translation of this book with the Greek original, according to the Metropolitan’s instructions, were obliged to constantly take counsel concerning all necessary corrections with spiritual elders who had actual experience in conducting their spiritual lives in accordance with this exalted teaching set forth in the Philokalia. [5]

Met. Gabriel himself told the editors, ‘These fathers, although they do not know the Greek language, out of experience know better than you the truths of the spiritual life and therefore understand more correctly the teaching contained in this book.’ [6] Concerning St Nazarius’s rôle, not only in the preparation, but in the dissemination of the Philokalia, Fr Placide (Deseille) writes:

One of the reviewers of the Dobrotoliubie [Philokalia] . . . —designated by Gabriel, the Metropolitan of St Petersburg—was Fr Nazarios . . . When Catherine II charged Metropolitan Gabriel with sending missionaries to Alaska, Gabriel asked hegumen Nazarios to confide this task to some of his monks. They left in 1793, taking with them the Dobrotoliubie, which had just been published. . . .

In 1801 Fr Nazarios gave up his position as hegumen [at Valaam] and retired to Sarov to live in solitude. He brought the Dobrotoliubie to St Seraphim (1759-1833), who was living in the forest as a hermit. [7]

St Nazarius was first and foremost a solitary ascetic and afterwards a father of monks. When he re-established Valaam, he took care to reintroduce all three modes of monastic life: coenobitism, the skete life, and anchoretism. According to his Life, ‘He began the building of the Great Skete in the woods beyond the Monastery enclosure as well as other sketes, and encouraged anchorites—making himself the first example of eremitic life.’ [8] As a ‘monk’s monk’, St Nazarius was different from many of the famous elders of subsequent decades. While St Nectarius of Optina deliberately cultivated an ability to converse on nearly any subject (see this post), the better to relate to the countless lay pilgrims who sought his help, St Nazarius’s Life tells us, ‘As for worldly things, he knew not at all how to speak of them. But if he opened his mouth in order to speak of ascetic labors against the passions, of love for virtue, then his converse was an inexhaustible fount of sweetness.’ [9] But that is not to say that St Nazarius was of ‘no use’ to lay people. A delightful story has come down to us of a trip the great ascetic once made to St Petersburg:

In the reign of Paul I, the Elder Nazarius was once invited in St Petersburg to the house of a certain K., who at that time had fallen into the Tsar’s disfavor. The statesman’s wife begged the Elder: ‘Pray, Father Nazarius, that my husband’s case will end well.’ ‘Very well,’ replied the Elder; ‘one must pray to the Lord to give the Tsar enlightenment. But one must ask also those who are close to him.’ The statesman’s wife, thinking he was referring to her husband’s superiors, said: ‘We’ve already asked all of them, but there is little hope from them.’ ‘No, not them, and one shouldn’t ask in such a way; give me some money.’ She took out several gold coins. ‘No, these a re no good. Haven’t you any copper coins, or small silver ones?’ She ordered both kinds to be given him. Fr Nazarius took the money and left the house.

For a whole day Fr Nazarius walked the streets and places where he supposed poor people and paupers were to be found and distributed the coins to them. Towards evening he appeared at K.’s house and confidently said: ‘Glory be to God, all those close to the Tsar have promised to intercede for you.’ The wife went and with joy informed her husband, who had become ill out of sorrow, and K. himself summoned Fr Nazarius and thanked him for his intercessions with the high officials.

Fr Nazarius had not even left the sick man’s bed when news came of the successful end of K.’s case. Immediately K. in his joy felt already stronger, and he asked Fr Nazarius which of the Tsar’s officials had shown the more favor to him. Here he found out that these ‘officials’ were paupers—those close to the Lord Himself, in the words of Fr Nazarius. Deeply moved by the piety of the Elder, he always kept for him a reverent love. [10]

As was mentioned above, although St Nazarius was an unlearned man, he was ‘a theologian by virtue of thy life in God’, according to a sticheron in his honour by Fr Seraphim (Rose). [11] He had read much in the Scriptures and the Fathers, he had great spiritual experience, and he had ‘a poetic gift of speech’. All of these are on full display in his simple but insightful ‘Counsels’. I shall first offer a quite practical example:

When the time for morning worship arrives, with all zeal arise and hasten to the beginning of the Church’s Divine service; and having come to church for the common prayer, stand in the appropriate place, collect all your mind’s power of thought, so that you will not dream or fly away in every direction, following evil qualities and objects which arouse our passions.

Strive as well as you can to enter deeply with the heart into the church reading and singing and to imprint these on the tablets of the heart.

Pay heed without sloth, do not weaken the body, do not lean against the wall or pillar in church; but put your feet straight and plant them firmly on the ground; keep your hands together; bow your head toward the ground and direct your midn to the heavenly dwellings.

Take care, as well as you can, that you do not dare, not only to speak about anything, but even to look at anyone or anything with the eyes. Pay attention to the church reading and singing, and strive as much as possible not to let your mind grow idle.

If, in listening to the church singing and reading, you cannot understand them, then with reverence say to yourself the Prayer of the Name of Jesus, in this way: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner. [12]

On the more theoretical side of things, it is interesting to see that, although unlearned, St Nazarius echoes the Socratic injunction to ‘Know thyself’, which was very much affirmed by the Fathers of the Church as an essential component of the true ‘philosophy’ of Christianity: [13]

Self-knowledge is needful; this is the knowledge of oneself and especially of the limitations of one’s talents, one’s failings, and lack of skill. From this it should result that we consider ourselves unworthy of any kind of position, and therefore that we do not desire any special positions, but rather accept what is placed upon us with fear and humility. He who knows himself pays no heed to the sins of others, but looks at his own and is always repenting over them; he reflects concerning himself, and condemns himself, and does not interfere in anything apart from his own position. He who is exercising himself in self-knowledge and has faith, does not trust his faith, does not cease to test it, in order to acquire a great and more perfect one, heeding the word of the Apostle: Examine yourself, whether ye be in the faith (II Cor. 13:5). [14]

Finally, imbued as he was the practice and spirit of hesychasm, it is not surprising to find that a later Abbot of Valaam, Igumen Chariton, included a passage of St Nazarius’s ‘Counsels’ in his famous anthology known as The Art of Prayer:

With reverence call in secret upon the Name of Jesus, thus: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner.’

Try to make this prayer enter ever more deeply into your soul and heart. Pray the prayer with your mind and thought, and do not let it leave your lips even for a moment. Combine it, if possible, with your breathing, and with all your strength try though the prayer to force yourself to a heart-felt contrition, repenting over your sins with tears. If there are no tears, at least there should be contrition and mourning
in the heart. [15]

In conclusion, here are the Troparion for St Nazarius in Tone 2, and three stichera to follow ‘Lord, I have cried’ in Tone 1, composed by Fr Seraphim (Rose):

Troparion, Tone 2

Humility is thy power, * patience thy rampart, * and love crowns all thy ways, * O Nazarius, chieftain leader of Valaam monks. * Call us to duty and order * that we may inherit God’s heavenly realm. [16]

On ‘Lord, I have cried’, Tone 1, to the Special Melody, ‘Rejoicing of the Heavenly Hierarchies’:

Ye islands of Valaam, rejoice, * be glad, ye forest of Sarov, * in you hath shone forth a wondrous teacher, * the glorious Nazarius, * who enlightened a multitude of monks * with the rays of true patristic teaching, * and taught all to wage unceasing warfare * against the world, the flesh, and the devil * unto the salvation of their souls.

Dance for joy, ye waters of Ladoga, * leap up, O brook Sarovka, * by your side walked the wondrous anchorite, * the abbot and instructor of many monks, * the wise Elder Nazarius * who could not be hid in the wilderness, * but was placed upon a candlestand * that he might shine for the salvation of our souls.

Instructor of St Herman, * and conversor with our holy Father Seraphim, * O Nazarius, wise in God, * by thine angelic life and teaching, * thou wast a model for holy men, * a theologian by virtue of thy life in God. * Now dwelling in the choirs of those who praise God without ceasing * do thou entreat Him to save our souls. [17]

[1] Hieromonk Damascene (Christensen), Father Seraphim Rose: His Life & Works (Platina, CA: St Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 2003), p. 429.

[2] Hieromonk Seraphim (Rose), ed. & tr., Little Russian Philokalia, Vol. 2: Abbot Nazarius, 2nd ed. (Platina, CA: St Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1996), p. 19.

[3] Valaam Patericon Book of Days (New Valaam Monastery, AK: Valaam Society of America, 1999), p. 25.

[4] Fr Seraphim, Abbot Nazarius, p. 20.

[5] Hieromonk Seraphim (Rose), ed. & tr., Blessed Paisius Velichkovsky: The Man Behind the Philokalia (Platina, CA: St Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1994), p. 237.

[6] Fr Seraphim, Abbot Nazarius, p. 24.

[7] Archimandrite Placide (Deseille), Orthodox Spirituality & the Philokalia, tr. Anthony P. Gythiel (Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2008), p. 163.

[8] Fr Seraphim, Abbot Nazarius, p. 23

[9] Ibid., p. 22.

[10] Ibid., pp. 26-7.

[11] Ibid., p. 121.

[12] Ibid., p. 56.

[13] On this, see Constantine Cavarnos, The Hellenic-Christian Philosophical Tradition (Belmont, MA: Institute for Byzantine & Modern Greek Studies, 1989), p. 105.

[14] Fr Seraphim, Abbot Nazarius, p. 88.

[15] Igumen Chariton of Valamo, comp., The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology, tr. E. Kadloubovsky & E.M. Palmer, ed. Timothy Ware [now Met. Kallistos of Diokleia] (London: Faber, 1997), p. 279; cf. the equivalent passage in Fr Seraphim, Abbot Nazarius, p. 56.

[16] Ibid., p. 122.

[17] Ibid., p. 121.

'O Revealer of Unfathomable Mysteries'—St Isaac the Syrian

Today, 28 January on the Church’s calendar, we celebrated the memory of St Isaac the Syrian (7th c.). Archimandrite Justin (Popović) writes, ‘Among the most outstanding of these holy philosophers [i.e., the Church Fathers] was the great ascetic, Isaac the Syrian.’ [1] Archimandrite Placide (Deseille) tells us, ‘He is viewed by all Christendom as a saint and a spiritual author of the first rank.’ [2] Olivier Clément calls St Isaac ‘One of the greatest spiritual figures of the Christian East where his influence has never ceased to make itself felt . . . .’ [3] Finally, according to Photios Kontoglou, ‘Saint Isaac, you might say, had wisdom sit like a golden bee on his mouth. Not the futile and bewildered wisdom of the clever, but the unfading wisdom, the source of incorruption, which truly liberates the man who possesses it.’ [4] Here is the account of his life in the Prologue:

Born in Nineveh, he began at an early age to live the ascetic life in the monastery of Mar-Matthew near Nineveh. When he became known for his holy life and miracles, he was chosen as bishop of Nineveh and forced to accept this state. But after only five months he left his episcopate and fled secretly to the desert monastery of Rabban-Shapur. He was the author of many works, of which about a hundred sermons on the spiritual life and asceticism, written mainly from his own experience, have come down to us. He was without equal as a writer and guide in the spiritual life. He entered into rest at a great age at the end of the seventh century. [5]

In his introduction to the hesychastic tradition, Fr Placide rounds out the picture somewhat:

[St Isaac’s] knowledge of the Scriptures and tradition rapidly earned him the repute of a master. . . . [6]

. . .

Filled with meekness, radiant peace, and humility, he nourished himself only with three pieces of bread and a few raw vegetables per week. His great asceticism and intense study caused him to lose his sight, but the other monks devoted themselves to writing down his teachings. They nicknamed him Didymus the Second. . . . [7]

Though St Isaac is often referred to without any qualification as a ‘Nestorian’, the renowned translator of the Homilies, Dana Miller, argues that the characterisation of the 7th-c. Persian Church as ‘Nestorian’ is a gross oversimplification, and that, at any rate, St Isaac’s ‘confession of our Lord’s incarnation is entirely orthodox’. [8] Fr Placide notes that ‘there is no trace of Nestorianism in his writings’, and that ‘Unlike the writings of Evagrius of Pontus, Isaac’s work did not have to be expurgated.’ [9] Thus, his example is certainly no evidence that a heretic can be venerated as a Saint in the Orthodox Church, but rather an illustration of the Church’s great latitude and pastoral condescension when it comes to the complexities of schism and heresy when they are still in the process of hardening.

Much has been said by readers about the great profundity of St Isaac’s spiritual teaching. Indeed, St Ignatius (Brianchaninov) classes it among those works written expressly for hesychastic ‘solitaries’, allowing the reading of St Isaac to coenobites only ‘after some considerable time’ and extensive reading in the ‘books written [specifically] for coenobitic monks’. [10] In his review of Archbishop Hilarion’s book on St Isaac, [11] Dana Miller writes:

His books were meant for fellow ascetics, for people who devote their every effort to being physically and mentally disassociated from the world we know and to being physically and mentally joined to another, very different world. It is a kind of accident that we can pick up a copy of Isaac as we idle away hours in a local bookstore. I doubt very much that Isaac ever foresaw this and I am uncertain whether or not he would be pleased. [12]

Indeed, St Isaac himself illustrates just how far we still have to go to attain the real end of his ascetic program—knowledge of God:

There is a knowledge that precedes faith, and there is a knowledge born of faith. Knowledge that precedes faith is natural knowledge; and that which is born of faith is spiritual knowledge. What is natural knowledge? Knowledge is natural that discerns good from evil, and this is also called natural discernment, by which we know to discern good from evil naturally, without being taught. . . . Those who have been deprived of it are inferior to rational nature, but those who possess it stand aright in their soul’s nature, and do not have any deficiency in those things that God has granted their nature to honour its rationality. . . . The honour belonging to rational nature is the discernment that tells good from evil, and those who have destroyed it are justly compared to ‘mindless cattle’ (Ps. 48:12), which have no rational and discerning faculty. With this discernment it is possible for us to find the pathway of God. This is knowledge that is natural; this is the predecessor of faith; and this is the pathway to God. [13]

St Isaac says ‘this is the predecessor of faith’! Yet how many of us are still ‘mindless cattle’ with no discernment? And we dare to delve into the deepest teachings of this man whose eye, in Kontoglou’s words, ‘scans the sun and remains undazzled’? Wisely, Kontoglou warns us, ‘Let no one, however, off-handedly approach this priceless ark, but with fear and trembling, because it would not be right for anyone who has ruined his palate with the foul and poisonous liquors of this world to refresh himself here.’ [14] And let us not think that we are sufficiently qualified for this study because we are educated. Further on Kontoglou writes:

Nevertheless, most of the educated are only going to admire from the outside the masterful way these sayings are turned, the odd glints they give off, a few of the soaring high points and paradoxes; they will not be able, however, to see the inner riches and the mother-of-pearl depths of this entrancing abyss; they will remain strangers, unable to taste that blissful delight. The key to this prolific mind and this deep soul is given to the humble man, and to the man who searches by the light of faith, but not to the expert. To all but these this spiritual paradise is locked, and all who are confident of entering by their knowledge remain sitting outside the gate, like Adam. [15]

Yet I do think there are passages where something is thrown to us that is sufficiently ‘practical’ that we may find immediate profit. As just one example, I offer this from Sebastian Brock’s translation of ‘The Second Part’, Chapter IV:

3. Varieties of (different) prayers indeed greatly help a mind which is harassed by distraction: from them, and by means of the strength resulting from them, the mind feels compunction and (so) acquires sweet prayer, prolonged kneeling, intercession for creation, and extended supplications which are set into motion from within. This happens to him because, with each single word which he encounters in these (prayers), he is like someone who is awoken out of sleep: he encounters in them astounding insights all the time, seeing that these very words are the result of the gift of grace and (so) possess a hidden power. Thus he is continually assisted through being occupied by them and through reading them. [16]

It seems to me that, having already opened the Triodion and standing upon the threshold of the Great Fast, we are faced with a unique opportunity to realise the truth of these words. Let us indeed find continual assistance ‘through being occupied by’ the words of the Triodion ‘and through reading them’.

I have quoted a couple of my favourite passages of St Isaac here and here, and in last year’s post on the Saint (here) I quoted still more. In that post I also considered Dostoevsky’s debt to St Isaac, upon which Archimandrite Vasileios of Iveron has written a profound spiritual meditation [17] and concerning which Kontoglou memorably writes:

I have not come across anything anything written about Saint Isaac in any book from Europe. We have left him to be forgotten like a light hidden under a bushel. But there was an Orthodox fellow, a Russian, Dostoyevsky, who wrote about him in one of his books; I thought of it the other day when this book was being printed. No theologians remembered him, just this sinful fellow, a no-gooder, a gambler, a soul curried like leather from agony, the prodigal son. But for him they killed the fatted calf: ‘The publicans and the harlots go before you into the Kingdom of the Heavens.’ [18]

I consider Fr Justin’s ‘Theory of Knowledge of St Isaac the Syrian’ a crucial exposition of Orthodox gnoseology, [19] and highly recommend Archimandrite Vasileios’s Abba Isaac the Syrian, [20] though Fr Alexander (Golitzin) is not exaggerating too much when he says Fr Vasileios ‘sings Isaac’s praises to the point of near incoherence’. [21] In conclusion, here is the Troparion of the Saint:

Dismissal Hymn of Saint Isaac
Plagal of First Tone. Let us worship the Word

He that thundered on Sinai with saving laws for man * hath also given thy writings as guides in prayer unto monks, * O revealer of unfathomable mysteries; * for having gone up in the mount * of the vision of the Lord, thou wast shown the many mansions. * Wherefore, O God-bearing Isaac, entreat the Saviour for all praising thee. [22]

[1] Archimandrite Justin (Popović), ‘The Theory of Knowledge of St Isaac the Syrian’, tr. Mother Maria (Rule), Orthodox Faith & Life in Christ, ed. Fr Asterios Gerostergios (Belmont, MA: Institute for Byzantine & Modern Greek Studies), p. 120. See also, Archimandrite Justin (Popović), ‘The Theory of Knowledge of St Isaac the Syrian’, tr. Mother Maria (Rule), Man & the God-man (Alhambra, CA: Sebastian, 2009), p. 69.

[2] Archimandrite Placide (Deseille), Orthodox Spirituality & the Philokalia, tr. Anthony P. Gythiel (Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2008), p. 27.

[3] Olivier Clément, The Roots of Christian Mysticism: Text & commentary, tr. Theodore Berkeley, OCSO, rev. Jeremy Hummerstone (London: New City,1995), p. 345.

[4] Photios Kontoglou, ‘Encomium’, The Ascetical Homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian, tr. Dana R. Miller (Boston: HTM, 1984), p. lviii.

[5] St Nicholas (Velimirović), The Prologue from Ochrid, Vol. 1, trans. Mother Maria (Birmingham: Lazarica, 1986), p. 106.

[6] Fr Placide, p. 26.

[7] Ibid., p. 27.

[8] Dana R. Miller, ‘Epilogue’, Ascetical Homilies, p. 514.

[9] Fr Placide, p. 27.

[10] St Ignatius (Brianchaninov), The Arena: An Offering to Contemporary Monasticism, tr. Archimandrite Lazarus (Moore) (Jordanville, NY: Holy Trinity Monastery, 1991), p. 22.

[11] Archbishop Hilarion (Alfeyev), The Spiritual World of Isaac the Syrian (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian, 2000).

[12] Dana R. Miller, ‘Review of The Spiritual World of Isaac the Syrian by Archbishop Hilarion (Alfeyev)’, here.

[13] St Isaac the Syrian, Hom. 47, Ascetical Homilies, p. 226.

[14] Kontoglou, p. lviii.

[15] Ibid., p. lix.

[16] St Isaac the Syrian, ‘The Second Part’, Chapters IV-XLI, tr. Sebastian Brock, Vol. 555 of Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium (Louvain: Peeters, 1995), p. 2.

[17] Archimandrite Vasileios (Gondikakis) of Iveron, ‘Απο τον Αββά Ισαάκ στον Ντοστογιέβσκι’, Φώς Χριστού Φαίνει Πάσι (Karyes, Mt Athos: Holy Monastery of Iveron, 2002), pp. .

[18] Kontoglou, p. lx.

[19] See n. 1, above.

[20] Fr Vasileios, Abba Isaac the Syrian: An Approach to His World, tr. Elizabeth Theokritoff (Montréal: Alexander, 1999).

[21] Hieromonk Alexander (Golitzin), ‘Review of The Spiritual World of Isaac the Syrian by Archbishop Hilarion (Alfeyev)’, St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly, Vol. 46, No 2-3, 2002, pp. 285-290 (here).

[22] The Great Horologion, tr. Holy Tranfiguration Monastery (Boston: HTM, 1997), p. 402.

'In Thee the Church Found a Great Zealot'—St Mark of Ephesus

Today, 19 January on the Church’s calendar, we celebrate the memory of Saint Mark (Eugenicus), Metropolitan of Ephesus and one of the ‘Pillars of Orthodoxy’ (1392-1444). St Nicholas (Velimirović) notes that he is ‘Famous for his defence of Orthodoxy . . . in the face of the Emperor and the Pope’. [1] According to Chrestos Yannaras, St Mark’s ‘spiritual stature and theological acumen were instrumental in nullifying the decisions of the unionist council of Ferrara-Florence’, [2] and as the account of his life in The Great Horologion points out, ‘Because of this, the holy Church of Christ has ever honoured this man as a benefactor, teacher, sole defender, and invincible champion of the Apostolic Confession.’ [3] Here is that account in full:

The great teacher and invincible defender of the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, Saint Mark, was the offspring and scion of the imperial city, Constantinople. Reared by most pious parents, and instructed in secular and spiritual wisdom, he became pre-eminent in both. Saint Mark lived as an ascetic on the Princes’ Islands and later in them monastery of Saint George Magana in Constantinople. He passed through all the degrees of the priesthood, and was finally advanced to the dignity of Archbishop and the lofty throne of the Metropoly of Ephesus. At the insistence of Emperor John Paleologus, the Saint was sent to the council of the Latins in Florence, to unite the churches that had been divided for so many years. He astounded the papal teachers with the divine wisdom of his words, and was the only one who did not sign the blasphemous decree of that false council. Because of this, the holy Church of Christ has ever honoured this man as a benefactor, teacher, sole defender, and invincible champion of the Apostolic Confession. He reposed in 1443. [4]

It should be noted as well that St Mark definitely ended his days as a confessor, having been imprisoned on the island of Lemnos for two years for his uncompromising commitment to the true Faith. [5]

Archimandrite Placide (Deseille) has noted that the holy Hierarch ‘received an excellent education’ and ‘taught sacred letters for a period of time’ before entering a monastery at the age of 26. ‘His piety and learning attracted the esteem of Emperor John VIII Paleologus (1425-1448), and at his request, Mark composed several dogmatic treatises. . . . Informed about trends in Western thought, he incorporated compatible elements with the Orthodox tradition.’ [6] Fr John Meyendorff has written of St Mark’s education, ‘In theology, he had studied with Joseph Bryennios, and in philosophy, with Gemistos Pletho; [7] under Pletho, he had received a much more elaborate philosophical training than was customary in monastic circles.’ [8] All of this was an excellent preparation for his defense of Orthodoxy at the council. Fr Meyendorff continues:

Mark’s view of the Latin West coincided with that of the circle of Cantacuzenos in the preceding century; and he had been willing to recognize the council as ecumenical until he lost hope that what he considered to be the truth would prevail at the assembly. At the beginning of the sessions in Ferrara, prompted by Cardinal Cesarini, Mark delivered to Pope Eugenius a preliminary address in which he called upon the ‘most holy Father’ to receive ‘his children coming from the East’ and ‘seeking his embrace’. But he also stressed the minimum condition for true unity: the removal of the interpolation introduced unilaterally by the Latins into the common creed. As discussions progressed in quite an opposite direction, his attitude, understandably, grew bitter. In the discussions, he and Bessarion were usually the main Greek spokesmen. . . . When Mark refused to sign, the pope is said to have declared: ‘We have accomplished nothing’ [9]. Obviously, Eugenius IV was aware by then of the real situation in the East and knew that Mark represented much better the prevailing mentality of the East than did the other members of the Greek delegation. [10]

Later, Fr Meyendorff delves more deeply into the specific issues raised at the council, as well as, more significantly, the difference in ethos between the Orthodox and the Latins which the council brought to the fore. He concludes:

The Florentine debate on purgatory seems to have been largely improvised on the spot, and both sides used arguments from Scripture and tradition which do not always sound convincing. [11] Still, the difference in the fundamental attitude toward salvation in Christ is easily discernible. Legalism, which applied to individual human destiny the Anselmian doctrine of ‘satisfaction’, is the ratio theological of the Latin doctrine of purgatory. For Mark of Ephesus, however, salvation is communion and ‘deification’. On his way to God, the Christian does not stand alone; he is a member of Christ’s Body. He can achieve this communion even now, before his death as well as afterward, and, in any case, he needs the prayer of the whole Body, at least until the end of time when Christ will be ‘all in all’. [12]

Metropolitan Hierotheos of Nafpaktos comments on St Mark’s confession at Florence that he expressed ‘the orthodox patristic teaching on all the subjects. Anyone studying his teaching will be manifestly convinced that it is an expression of orthodox teaching and in the main is an expression of the theology of St Gregory Palamas.’ [13] Later on, he refers to St Mark as ‘a bearer of the Orthodox tradition and an authentic witness of the Scriptures and the words of the Fathers’, who ‘analyses and interprets all these passages according to Orthodoxy, overthrowing the views of the Latins.’ [14] Finally, he writes, ‘St Mark is an authentic interpreter of the orthodox teaching, because he himself is a bearer of the Orthodox Tradition.’ [15]

But while St Mark is famous for his defense of Orthodoxy against the Latins, his hesychasm is much less well known. Fr Placide tells us:

Among the texts found in the last volume of the Greek Philokalia is an explication of the formula, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me’, or more succinctly, ‘Lord, have mercy’ (Kyrie eleison). According to the entire manuscript tradition, this unattributed text is actually the work of Mark Eugenikos, Metropolitan of Ephesus (1392-1440). [16]

Further on, Fr Placide continues, ‘The short treatise of Mark on the meaning of Kyrie eleison summarizes the message of the Philokalia by placing it within the entire economy of salvation.’ [17] He also notes, ‘In his writings, Mark appears to be a faithful disciple of hesychast and Palamite doctrine.’ [18] While this text, found on pp. 69-72 of the ‘Astir’ edition of the Greek Philokalia, [19] has not yet appeared in the ongoing Faber edition of the Philokalia, not even being among those texts from Vol. 5 that appeared in translation from the Russian in Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart, [20] it is now available in a volume of Philokalia translations by Constantine Cavarnos called The Philokalia: A Second Volume of Selected Readings (order here).

Fr Seraphim (Rose) quotes an interesting passage from his ‘Second Homily on Purgatorial Fire’, which I offer here as a small sample of St Mark’s writing:

That only the canonical Scriptures have infallibility is testified by Blessed Augustine in the words which he writes to Jerome: ‘It is fitting to bestow such honor and veneration only to the books of Scripture which are called ‘canonical’, for I absolutely believe that none of the authors who wrote them erred in anything. . . . As for other writings, no matter how great was the excellence of their authors in sanctity and learning, in reading them I do not accept their teaching as true solely on the basis that they thus wrote and thought.’ Then in a letter to Fortunatus [St Mark continues in his citations of Augustine] he writes the following: ‘We should not hold the judgment of a man, even though this man might have been orthodox and had a high reputation, as the same kind of authority as the canonical Scriptures, to the extent of considering it inadmissible for us, out of the reverence we owe such men, to disapprove and reject something in their writing if we should happen to discover that they taught other than the truth which, with God’s help, has been attained by others or by ourselves. This is how I am with regard to the writings of other men; and I desire that the reader will act thus with regard to my writings also.’ [21]

In conclusion, here are the Troparion and Kontakion of this holy Hierarch and Confessor:

Dismissal Hymn of Saint Mark
Third Tone. Thy confession

O all-laudable and most divine Mark, * in thee the Church found a great zealot * by thy confession of the holy and sacred faith; * for thou didst champion the doctrines which the Fathers taught * and didst cast down darkness’ boastful pride. * Wherefore pray thou to Christ God for them that honour thee, * that we be granted the forgiveness of sins.

Kontakion of Saint Mark. Third Tone
On this day the Virgin

Clad, O godly-minded one, * with an invincible armour, * thou didst dash to pieces the pride of the Western rebellion; * thou wast brought forth as the champion * of Orthodoxy, * as the Comforter’s own instrument and pure vessel. * For this cause, to thee, we cry out: * Rejoice, O Mark, thou * boast of the Orthodox flock. [22]

[1] St Nicholas (Velimirović), The Prologue from Ochrid, Vol. 1, trans. Mother Maria (Birmingham: Lazarica, 1986), p. 77.

[2] Chrestos Yannaras, Orthodoxy & the West: Hellenic Self-Identity in the Modern Age, trans. Fr Peter Chamberas & Norman Russell (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross, 2006), p. 51.

[3] The Great Horologion, trans. Holy Transfiguration Monastery (Boston: HTM, 1997), p. 391.

[4] Ibid., p. 391.

[5] Archimandrite Placide (Deseille), Orthodox Spirituality & the Philokalia, trans. Anthony P. Gythiel (Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2008), p. 41.

[6] Ibid., p. 40.

[7] George Gemistos Plethon is an extremely odd figure. In their fascinating Scribes & Scholars: A Guide to the Transmission of Greek & Latin Literature, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford U, 1974), p. 133, L.D. Reynolds & N.G. Wilson refer to him as a ‘freethinker’, and indeed, he seems to have been the first known neo-dodekatheist in Greece.

[8] Fr John Meyendorff, Byzantine Theology: Historical Trends & Doctrinal Themes, 2nd ed. (NY: Fordham U, 1979), p. 111.

[9] Fr Meyendorff quotes this from Sylvestre Syropoulos, Mémoire, X, 15; Les ‘Mémoires’ du Grand Ecclesiarque de l’Eglise de Constantinople Sylvestre Syropoulos (Paris: Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1971), p. 496.

[10] Fr Meyendorff, pp. 111-2.

[11] This comment seems to be contradicted, in the case of St Mark, by the testimony of Sylvestre Syropoulos when he writes, ‘We wondered how the Ephesian immediately gave the solutions with graphic descriptions, without knowing beforehand what John intended to propose’ (qtd. in Met. Hierotheos of Nafpaktos, Life After Death, tr. Esther Williams [Levadia, Gr.: Birth of the Theotokos Monastery, 1998], p. 153).

[12] Fr Meyendorff, p. 221.

[13] Met. Hierotheos, p. 162.

[14] Ibid., p. 183.

[15] Ibid., p. 192.

[16] Fr Placide, p. 40.

[17] Ibid., p. 41.

[18] Ibid., p. 40.

[19] Ss Macarius of Corinth & Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain, eds., Φιλοκαλία των Ιερών Νηπτικών (Athens: Astir, 1982), pp. 69-72.

[20] E. Kadloubovsky & G.E.H. Palmer, trans., Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart (London: Faber, 1992).

[21] St Mark, ‘Second Homily on Purgatorial Fire’, chs. 15-6, qtd. in Hieromonk Seraphim (Rose), The Place of Blessed Augustine in the Orthodox Church (Platina, CA: St Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1998), pp. 73-4. Fr Seraphim is quoting from the Russian text of Archimandrite Ambrose (Pogodin), St Mark of Ephesus & the Union of Florence (Jordanville, NY: 1963), pp. 127-32. Fr Seraphim adds in a note that this book ‘contains full Russian translations of St Mark’s Writings’ (p. 70).

[22] Horologion, pp. 391-2.

'For Us, the Physician Medicine Prepared'—St Gregory of Sinai

Yesterday, 8 August on the Church’s calendar, we celebrated the memory of St Gregory the Sinai. Unfortunately, I did not have time to prepare a post for the actual day of his feast. Of course, he is celebrated two other times during the year, but both of those dates have come and gone since I started this blog, and I hated to let an entire year of Logismoi go by with no post on this great hesychast and theologian of the spiritual life. I simply had to post on St Gregory, even if I was late.

Archimandrite Placide (Deseille) writes that ‘St Gregory the Sinaite is viewed as the main promoter of the fourteenth century hesychast renewal, and his works count among the most important in the Philokalia’ (Orthodox Spirituality and the Philokalia, trans. Anthony P. Gythiel [Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2008], p. 36). According to the ‘Introductory Note’ on St Gregory which prefaces his works in the English Philokalia, ‘Gregory of Sinai was born, probably around 1265 (but the date is uncertain), near Klazomenai, on the western shores of Asia Minor. Taken prisoner as a young man in a Turkish raid, after being ransomed he went to Cyprus, where he entered the first grade of the monastic life’ (The Philokalia: The Complete Text, Vol. 4, trans. G.E.H. Palmer, et al. [London: Faber, 1995], p. 207). Continuing the story, here is the account of St Gregory’s life in the Prologue (St Nicholas [Velimirović], The Prologue from Ochrid: Vol. 3, trans. Mother Maria [Birmingham: Lazarica, 1986], pp. 169-70):

He was named ‘the Sinaite’ because he became a monk on Mount Sinai. In the time of the Emperor Andronicus Palaeologus, in about 1330, he went to the Holy Mountain to visit the monasteries and discover more about mental prayer and contemplation. But these two spiritual exercises were little known at that time among the monks of the Holy Mountain. The only one who was experienced in them and practised them perfectly was St Maximus of Kapsokalyvia. Gregory spread his teaching on mental prayer through all the cells and monasteries of the Holy Mountain. His most famous pupil was Kallistos, Patriarch of Constantinople, who wrote Gregory’s life. After that, Gregory went to Macedonia and to other parts of the Balkans, and founded communities in which the monks engaged in mental prayer, thus helping many to deepen their prayer and come to salvation. His writings on mental prayer and asceticism are found in the Philokalia. Among other things, he wrote the hymn to the Holy Trinity: ‘It is meet and right . . .’, which is sung in the Midnight Office on Sundays. He stands among the most famous ascetics and spiritual teachers of the Balkans. He entered peacefully into rest in 1346, after a life of great toil, and went to the Kingdom of Christ.

According to the Life written by his disciple, Saint Patriarch Kallistos of Constantinople (The Lives of the Saints of the Holy Land and Sinai Desert, trans. Holy Apostles Convent [Buena Vista, CO: Holy Apostles Convent, 1997], pp. 239-40):

Gregory, who exercised due care in all works, like the apostles, desired to encompass all the world and bring all the Christians to divine ascent with his teachings, that by means of active virtues, they might mount to the summit of mental prayer, just as he ascended by the co-operation of the divine Spirit. With this teaching, he wished with all his heart that all be enlightened by the Holy Spirit. To the divine Gregory, the following words are appropriate: ‘His sound has gone forth into all the earth, and his words unto the ends of the world’ (Ps 18:4). In every place that the saint went, he did not fail to sow and communicate his teachings of the benefits of solitude and mental prayer. And his divine words did not stop with him, but his disciples went on to spread this teaching.

Indeed, Anthony-Emil Tachiaos of the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki has done a thorough preliminary study of St Gregory’s influence among the Slavs of Bulgaria and Serbia, through his own writings as well as through the activities of his disciples: ‘Gregory Sinaites’ Legacy to the Slavs: Preliminary Remarks’, Cyrillomethodianum vii (1983), pp. 113-65. Tachiaos writes:

The period when Gregory was in Paroria [present-day Bulgaria] was a glorious spiritual era in XIVth-century Hesychast monasticism. He acquired new disciples there whose number seems to have increased daily. Gregory brought the Hesychast traditions of Sinai and Athos unchanged to Paroria, where his disciples kept them alive and flourishing. (p. 118)

Speaking of these disciples, Fr Placide writes:

One of them, Theodosius, founded the monastery of Mount Kelifarevo . . . after Gregory’s death. From this monastery, hesychast spirituality radiated to the entire world of the Slavs, thanks to its great monks and pastors: Euthymius, patriarch of Tirnovo; Romylos and Gregory the Hesychast, who spread hesychasm to Serbia with the help of prince Lazarus; Cyprian, Metropolitan of Kiev, who brought it to Russia, thereby imbuing St Nil Sorsky (1433-1508) with the doctrine of the Sinaite a century later. (p. 36)

Fr Placide also goes on to speak of the content and depth of St Gregory’s spiritual teaching as contained in his various Philokalic texts:

The spiritual doctrine of St Gregory the Sinaite is centered entirely on the guarding of the mind and the prayer of the heart. He teaches how, through hesychast prayer, the monk can progressively acquire consciousness of grace deposed in him through baptism and nourished by the Eucharist. Taking his inspiration from the Ladder of St John Climacus and the Mystagogy of St Maximus the Confessor, ‘Gregory presents the summit of the prayer of the monk as a priestly worship, in spirit and in truth, accomplished in the sanctuary of the heart’ (M. van Parys, ‘La liturgie du coeur selon saint Grégoire le Sinaïte’ in Irénikon, 51 [1976], pp. 312-337). (p. 37)

Here are two ‘chapters’ from his work, ‘On Commandments and Doctrines, Warnings and Promises; on Thoughts, Passions and Virtues, and also on Stillness and Prayer: One Hundred and Thirty-Seven Texts’:

2. Only those who through their purity have become saints are spiritually intelligent in the way that is natural to man in his pre-fallen state. Mere skill in reasoning does not make a person’s intelligence pure, for since the fall our intelligence has been corrupted by evil thoughts. The materialistic and wordy spirit of the wisdom of this world may lead us to speak about ever wider spheres of knowledge, but it renders our thoughts increasingly curde and uncouth. This combination of well-informed talk and crude thought falls far short of real wisdom and contemplation, as well as of undivided and unified knowledge.

3. By knowledge of truth understand above all apprehension of truth through grace. Other kinds of knowledge should be regarded as images of intellections or the rationals demonstration of facts. (Philokalia, p. 212)

I have previously blogged on a passage from St Gregory’s writings here, and on his Slavic disciples here. In this post, I have translated a brief excerpt of his dialogue with St Maximus Kapsokalyvites from volume 5 of the Greek Philokalia. In conclusion, here is the ‘Hymn of Praise’ for St Gregory from the Prologue:

Sinaite, the all-wise one, taught the monks,
And, by his example, confirmed his teachings:
Passionlessness, that is the Promised Land,
By the Spirit, the passionless soul illumined.
Without any thoughts, man then becomes
When, with prayer, his mind rests in the heart.
Of all passions, thoughts are sinful forerunners,
Which, in the demonic authority, keeps the soul.
Sick people are we; for us, the physician medicine prepared,
To be healed, to be healthy.
The Name of Jesus, in your heart, speaks,
It will, as a fire, consume passions,
Let that powerful name, with heavenly radiance
In your heart move, with breathing.
If, in your heart, you do not have Jesus the Lord
All other mortifications, remain as water.
Only Jesus inside me is able
The water of my being, into wine to convert.
As in a nest, your whole mind, in the heart place,
And then glorify Jesus, by ceaseless prayer.
O, Lord Jesus, have mercy on me a sinner!
Let the prayer be slow; not hurried—
Until the heart, from prayer, bursts into flame—
Then, the mind, heaven sees and on earth, remains not.

Eighth Day Review Books

Something recently pushed me over the edge, and I decided I must finally read Fr Andrew Louth’s Discerning the Mystery: An Essay on the Nature of Theology, reprint ed. (Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2007). I had seen references to it at the Ochlophobist and biblicalia, plus some of Sr Macrina Walker’s series of posts about it (she mentions in a later post, ‘I tell everyone who will listen to read Discerning the Mystery!’). But it seems like it may have been Felix Culpa who closed the sale when I reread his statement about it: ‘Quite simply, required reading for anyone who is concerned with the study of theology as an academic field. Bears continual rereading’ (Felix Culpa also posted a wonderful excerpt from the book here). If that’s not enough, here is one of Eighth Day’s famous catalogue blurbs describing this publication:

Published twenty-five years ago, this book is still the finest critique of the Enlightenment’s ways of knowing, coupled with a winsome description of a distinctly Christian alternative. Responding to what he sees as a ‘division and fragmentation’ both in theology and the larger culture due to ‘the one-sided way we have come to seek and recognize truth…manifest in the way in which all concern with truth has been relinquished to the sciences’, Louth sets out to describe the source of that fragmentation and to challenge the notion that we must ‘accept the lot bequeathed to us by the Enlightenment’. He carefully reviews central themes of several precursors who have already forged a critique of the epistemological imperialism of the Enlightenment, principally Giambattista Vico, Wilhelm Dilthey, and Hans-Georg Gadamer, who in distinct ways demonstrated the legitimacy of the humanities’ unique apprehension of truth. Further relativizing Enlightenment claims, Michael Polanyi proposed that science itself depends on non-empirical elements of investigation for its method to function, what he termed ‘the tacit dimension’. It is here that Louth sees a ‘pattern underlying the apprehension of truth’ that is strikingly similar to that of the Fathers of the Church, who set forth an approach to knowing and experiencing truth that ultimately can be ‘seen and heard and handled’ (1 John 1:1-3), but only by those who reside in the bosom of the Church’s tradition and avail themselves of ways of knowing unique to it. Louth’s rather brilliant rehabilitation of the Fathers’ use of allegory in scriptural interpretation, which interweaves Scripture and tradition seamlessly, illustrates this approach. The matrix of allegory requires and manifests the ‘tacit dimension’ of the guidance of the Spirit, and underlines the theologian’s need to hear Him. Or as Evagrios of Pontus might put it, ‘Knowledge of God—the breast of the Lord. To recline there—the making of a theologian.’

Well, at any rate, I finally asked Eighth Day for a review copy. Imagine my joy when I received the reply that not only would they send the copy of Fr Louth’s book, but also another book that I’d managed completely to forget about somehow: Archimandrite Placide (Deseille), Orthodox Spirituality and the Philokalia, trans. Anthony P. Gythiel (Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2008). For those who missed it or have forgotten, I have already posted on Fr Placide in the most glowing of terms, and I really cannot express how impressed I was when I first read it 8 years ago with his conversion story, ‘Stages of a Pilgrimage’, The Living Witness of the Holy Mountain: Contemporary Voices from Mount Athos, ed. and trans. Hieromonk Alexander (Golitzin) (South Canaan, PA: St Tikhon’s Seminary, 1999), pp. 63-93. Ever since that fateful day, I have been quite ready to read anything by Fr Placide that was available in a language I could read, which unfortunately excludes his own Gallic tongue. So couple the fact that this is truly his first book to appear in English (although I have read some of his essays in Greek), with the fact that this is one of the few studies that I know of the Philokalia as a unified collection, and you have a must-read. Here in turn is the catalogue blurb for Fr Placide’s book:

The Philokalia is unrivaled in importance among Orthodox ascetical writings. Yet like the Scriptures themselves, it is a collection of texts complex in origin and transmission, written over a period of a thousand years and assuming of its readers an intimate familiarity with its vocabulary and presuppositions. Orthodox Spirituality and the Philokalia is perhaps the only book entirely devoted to describing the essential elements of the tradition that gave birth to the Philokalia and then nourished its teaching generation after generation. It is a work—the first to appear in English by Placide Deseille—of profound scholarship and devotion, historical narrative and topical anthology. The historical sections begin and end the book, offering a succinct outline of Orthodox spirituality as it relates to what Deseille calls ‘the philocalic tradition’, from St Anthony the Great up to the present day. The concluding discussion highlights the fragmented but fascinating presence of that tradition in the Christian West. The centerpiece of Deseille’s work is the anthology with commentary, arranged according to themes such as deification (related to both Christology and anthropology), the sacraments, hesychastic prayer, mercy and charity, spiritual warfare, purity of heart and contemplation. Deseille, a Cistercian priest become Orthodox monk, offers here the fruit of a lifetime’s scholarship and existential pursuit of what it means to live as a contemporary of the Fathers, a fellow pilgrim with them in the journey ‘toward the goal of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus’.

So expect to see reviews of these books (as soon as I’ve finished Papadiamandis’s The Boundless Garden and Yannaras’s Orthodoxy and the West). They both arrived yesterday in pristine condition—two handsome volumes just begging to be read and written about. Of course, I also have Eighth Day’s The Feast of Friendship, 2nd ed., by Fr Paul D. O’Callaghan (Wichita, KS: Eighth Day, 2007), which I still need to read. (I feel as though I am finally more adequately prepared now that I’ve read Aristotle, Cicero, St Cassian, and Aelred of Rievaulx on the subject.) Oh, and incidentally, it was Fr O’Callaghan who, in a lecture in Wichita, first convinced me to read Yannaras’s Freedom of Morality.

Fr Placide on the Liturgy, East & West

In light of an ongoing discussion on the Western Rite in the combox at Words, Words, Words, I have finally decided it was time to post some remarks by the learned Archimandrite Placide (Deseille), an eminent Roman Catholic convert to Orthodoxy. As a member of a parish where the WR ‘Liturgy of St Gregory’ is celebrated every Saturday morning, in addition to the weekly round of Byzantine services, I have a certain sympathy toward both sides of this debate. Certainly, I do not wish to initiate a controversy here at Logismoi. But I think Fr Placide is in a unique position to offer some wisdom on the relative merits of the two rites, and that whatever direction we as individuals decide to go, we would do well to take his thoughts into consideration. Personally, I prefer the ER precisely for the reasons that he states, and also since my own liturgical experience has been almost entirely in the ER until recently. But I also appreciate the WR for the qualities that Fr Placide mentions below.

Both passages are from Fr Placide’s autobiographical ‘Stages of a Pilgrimage’ (The Living Witness of the Holy Mountain: Contemporary Voices from Mount Athos, trans. and ed. Hieromonk Alexander [Golitzin] [South Canaan, PA: St Tikhon’s Seminary, 1994], pp. 63-93), far and away one of the most fascinating and instructive ‘Journey to Orthodoxy’ stories I’ve ever read.

First, here are Fr Placide’s comments on his relationship with the Latin liturgy as a Trappist at the Abbey of Bellefontaine:

I loved the Latin liturgy deeply. Knowledge of the Orthodox liturgy, which I had just discovered with amazement at Saint Sergius [the Orthodox theological institute in Paris], made me the more sharply aware of the analogous wealth, albeit more hidden, concealed in the traditional Latin liturgy, and stirred me to live in it more intensely. The liturgy of the Trappists was at that time, in spite of some later additions that were easily discernable and did not detract from the whole, identical with the liturgy which the West had been celebrating in the era before it had broken communion with the East. In contrast to the Byzantine liturgy, it was composed almost exclusively of biblical texts, which could seem initially very dry, but these texts had been very skillfully chosen. The unfolding of the liturgical year was perfectly harmonious and the rites, in spite of their sobriety, were charged with a great wealth of meaning. If one took the trouble, outside of the services, during the hours of that lectio divina so characteristic of the earlier monastic spirituality of the West, to take to heart a knowledge of the Bible and the interpretations that the Fathers had give it, the celebration of the divine office took on, with God’s grace, a wonderful sweetness. (p. 69)

After the reforms of the Second Vatican Council (concerning which see an interesting interview here), Fr Placide founded a monastery, really a sort of skete, at Aubazine, still under the authority of the Roman Catholic Church. Here is his explanation of what led him to adopt the Byzantine Rite for the liturgical gatherings of that community:

What therefore prompted me to turn towards the Byzantine tradition had nothing to do with its ‘oriental’ character. I have never felt myself to be an ‘oriental’, nor wanted to become so. But, given the state of things, the practice of the Byzantine liturgy seemed to me to be the most suitable means for entering into the fullness of the patristic tradition in a way that would be neither scholarly nor intellectual, but living and concrete. The Byzantine liturgy has always appeared to me much less as an ‘eastern’ liturgy than as the sole existing liturgical tradition concerning which one could say: ‘It has done nothing more nor less than closely incorporate into liturgical life all the great theology elaborated by the Fathers and Councils before the ninth century. In it the Church, triumphant over heresies, sings her thanksgiving, the great doxology of the Trinitarian and Christological theology of St Athanasius, the Cappadocians, St John Chrysostom, St Cyril of Alexandria, and St Maximus the Confessor. Through it shines the spirituality of the great monastic movements, from the Desert Fathers, from Evagrius, Cassian, and the monks of Sinai, to those of Studion and, later, of Mt Athos . . . In it, in a word, the whole world, transfigured by the presence of divine glory, reveals itself in a truly eschatological dimension’ (M.-J. Le Guillou, L’esprit de l’Orthodoxie grecque et russe [The Spirit of Greek and Russian Orthodoxy] [Paris, 1961], p. 47). (Fr Placide, p. 75)

This second passage reminds me of the New Hieromartyr Hilarion’s words about the services of the Church (trans. Felix Culpa, in this post):

Listening to the Church’s hymns, one grows increasingly convinced of what rich treasures of ideas they are, of how important they are for an authentic Orthodox understanding of life. Our school courses on dogmatics, taught from the cathedras of seminaries and academies, stand much lower in relation to that theology that our readers and singers teach the faithful from the church kliros.