First Report on the Climacus Conference

As I mentioned last week, I was given the opportunity over the weekend to attend the alluring Climacus Conference in Louisville, KY, in the company of Owen White, the Ochlophobist, and James Kelley, a fellow parishioner of St Benedict’s here in OKC and author of A Realism of Glory, a study of Fr John Romanides (we also had a great time hanging out with Maximus Daniel Greeson, a fellow learned beyond his years). I advertised the conference a bit here, and one can find the full details here. Many of the talks can be heard as podcasts here.

I have to say that with the exception of a couple of the longer Q&A sessions, I definitely enjoyed the conference all along (my thanks to all for their hospitality). I can’t speak for my colleagues, but even when I took issue with the speakers, I had a good time being stimulated by them and I liked them personally. Unfortunately, two of the more scholarly ‘headliners’, Vigen Guroian and George Bebawi, were snowed in and unable to make it (sorry, Fr Mark!). But there was no lack of ‘contemplation of noble ideas’ for that.

David Wright, the conference host, a literature teacher at duPont Manual High School, and a Fellow in Classical Education, the Great Books, and Classical Rhetoric at the CiRCE Institute, spoke about St John Climacus and the Ladder (hear the podcast here). First he discussed the three structural canons of classical rhetoric—inventio, dispositio, and elocutio [1]—and pointed out that they were seen not merely as artificial stages of literary production, but as having a fundamental relationship with reality itself, particularly with human life and moral purpose. According to David, the great thinkers of the past believed rhetoric formed the mind on structure. At this point there was a brief consideration of God’s act of creation interpreted in terms of these three canons, as well as an attempt to relate them to the persons of the Trinity (here some references to the Fathers would have been nice, as a few of us felt that David was on shakier ground, coming rather close to a sort of analogia entis idea). The strongest portion was certainly the analysis of the Ladder in terms of the three canons. Here, David offered the following correlations:

Steps 1-3, broadly speaking, on ‘renunciation’ = inventio

Steps 4-26, on the ‘active life’ = dispositio

Steps 27-30, on union with God = elocutio

But David also emphasised that the ‘steps’ of the Ladder should not be seen as a rigid formula, but as an expression of mystical, experiential truth in a symbolic form rather like poetry. At this point David looked at a few of St John’s uses of figurative language, imagery, and metaphors, continuing the line of comparing the work with poetry, but not thereby divorcing it from rhetorical structure. As one example among several of St John’s poetic language, he quoted Ladder, Step 25, ‘On the destroyer of passions, most sublime humility, which is rooted in spiritual perception’:

6. Painstaking repentance, mourning cleansed of all impurity, and holy humility in beginners, are as different and distinct from each other as yeast and flour from bread. By open repentance the soul is broken and refined; it is brought to a certain unity, I will even say a commingling with God, by means of the water of genuine mourning. Then, kindled by the fire of the Lord, blessed humility becomes bread and is made firm without the leaven of pride. Therefore, when this holy three-fold cord ir, rather, heavenly rainbow, unites into one power and activity, it acquires its own effects and properties. And whatever you name as an indication of one of them, is a token also of another. [2]

Interestingly, David argued that when poetry lost its rhyme in the modern era, it also lost its rhetoric, and was thereby torn away from the fabric of reality. All in all, it was a very nice talk to begin the conference, and Lent to boot.

My apologies for not getting to this sooner. This has been a very busy week so far! I’ll try to discuss a few of the other talks as I have time—I had some thoughts on both of Granger’s, both of Maddex’s, on Rosi’s, and on Sabourin’s. Unfortunately, I had to miss the talk on ‘Scripture as an Icon of Christ’ by the very likeable Theron Mathis (with whom I had a great time chatting between and even during some sessions!), but he has graciously sent me the text that he used, and it is also available as a podcast, so I hope to discuss that one as well.

[1] I say ‘the three structural canons’, hoping to distinguish them accurately from the two others of the usual ‘Five Canons’—memoria and actio—which David didn’t mention. While I studied Aristotle’s Rhetoric as a college freshman, it seems it was Quintilian who first elabourated these five canons, and I’m afraid I don’t have a copy of his works to cite.

[2] St John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent, rev. ed., tr. Archimandrite Lazarus (Moore) (Boston: HTM, 1991), p. 151.

'Simple-hearted but Prudent in Thought'—St Acacius of Sinai

Today, 29 November on the Church’s calendar, we celebrate the memory of the Holy Acacius of Sinai. All that is known of St Acacius is contained in the Ladder, Step 4:110 (4:111 in the Greek edition). Here is the story as translated in The Ladder of Divine Ascent, rev. ed., trans. Archim. Lazarus (Moore), rev. HTM (Boston: HTM, 1991), pp. 48-9:

110. I will not be silent about something which it is not right to leave in silence, lest I should inhumanly keep to myself what ought to be made known. The famous John the Sabbaite told me things worth hearing. And that he was detached and above all falsehood, and free from words and deeds of evil, you know from your experience, holy father. This man told me: ‘In my monastery in Asia (for that is where the good man came from), there was a certain elder who was extremely careless and dissolute. I say this without passing judgment on him, but simply to state the truth. He obtained, I do not know how, a disciple, a youth called Acacius, simple-hearted but prudent in thought [aploūn tina tē gnōmē, phronimon de tō logismō]. And he endured so much from this elder, that to many people it will perhaps seem incredible. For the elder tormented him daily, not only with insults and indignities, but even with blows. But his patience was not mere senseless endurance. And so, seeing him daily in wretched plight like the lowest slave, I would ask him when I met him: “What is the matter, Brother Acacius, how are you today?” And he would at once show me a black eye, or a scarred neck or head. But knowing that he was a worker, I would say to him: “Well done, well done; endure and it will be for your good.” Having spent nine years with this pitiless elder, he departed to the Lord. Five days after his burial in the cemetery of the fathers, Acacius’s master went to a certain great elder living there and said to him: “Father, Brother Acacius is dead.” As soon as the elder heard this, he said: “Believe me, elder, I do not believe it.” The other replied: “Come and see.” The elder at once rose and went to the cemetery with the master of the blessed athlete. And he called as to a living person to him who was truly alive in his falling asleep, and said: “Are you dead, Brother Acacius?” And the good doer of obedience, showing his obedience even after his death, replied to the great elder: “How is it possible, Father, for a man who is a doer of obedience to die?” Then the elder who had been Acacius’s master became terrified and fell on his face in tears. Afterwards he asked the abbot of the Lavra for a cell near the tomb, and lived in it devoutly, always saying to the fathers: “I have committed murder.”’ And it seemed to me, Father John that the one who spoke to the dead man was the great John himself. For that blessed soul told me another story as if it were about someone else, when it was really about himself, as I was afterwards able to learn for certain.

I’m afraid this Saint’s life calls for rather more editorial commentary than is usual here. John the Sabbaite seems to think that ‘to many people it will perhaps seem incredible’ that St Acacius endured these things. But to most moderns, I daresay it is not that he endured them that seems incredible (if there is any doubt that it can be done, we have in our own day the admittedly less extreme example of Elder Ephraim of Katounakia, whose story is told in Obedience is Life, by Elder Joseph of Vatopaidi [Holy Mountain: Vatopaidi Monastery, 2003]), but that he could be thought to have endured them for any reason other than a pathological one. Yet, as Orthodox we can hardly deny that this is what our Tradition affirms. How could a man have attained holiness through enduring abuse if he was a pathological victim? Indeed, I think the characterization of St Acacius as ‘prudent in thought [phronimon de tō logismō]’ is precisely an affirmation that, in spite of a natural desire to avoid suffering and pain, he freely chose to endure these things in order to conquer his will and to follow Christ.

But while we as Orthodox hold St Acacius up as an exemplar of obedience and self-mortification, I think it is important in an age of heightened consciousness of the evils of domestic violence to note that Christians who find themselves in such a relationship are not expected or obliged to take no measures to protect their physical and psychological well-being. I think it is safe to say that St Acacius’s path is for the few. Archimandrite [now Archbishop] Chrysostomos [of Etna] has written about precisely this issue (‘Obedience & the Psychology of the Fathers’, Obedience, by Archimandrite Chrysostomos, et al. [Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox, 1984], pp. 19-20):

In following a superior whom we know to be in some ways at fault, we must not imagine ourselves automatically covered by those who, in following spiritually unworthy superiors, have attained to spiritual eminence. Why? Simply because those of whom the Desert Fathers and others write were individuals of absolutely resolute will, who had nothing but the spiritual life in mind. Their superiors were quite literally a means to an end. Today we live, even in the most spiritual circumstances, as creatures of the emotions. We are taught to develop the emotions. We are even told that indulging the emotions is healthy! We therefore relate to our spiritual superiors in emotional ways. We do not always overlook their faults and errors because these faults and errors have little to do with their spiritual guidance; sometimes we do so because we are so emotionally tied to them that we cannot look at these faults spiritually. In this way we enter into the emotional lives of our superiors, participate in their faults, and fall short of the spiritual goals to which we are called.

Of course, I speak primarily to Orthodox Christians. I’m not sure that it is either possible or necessary to defend the actions of such as St Acacius before those who are outside the Church. It does seem to me that self-will is at the root of all human conflict, and that we delude ourselves if we think we can put an end to war or injustice without denying ourselves and even being willing to undergo violence. ‘Empowerment’ and pacifism seem to me to be mutually exclusive. But ultimately, St Acacius’s desire to save his own soul and perhaps, that of his elder, can be the only real justification. I think that we can apply to St Acacius what Derwas Chitty has insightfully written concerning two monks at the monastery of Choziba in the Wadi Qelt near Jericho: he was ‘devoted to a life which would be wholly meaningless and outrageous if God were not real, nor the Christian Faith true’ (The Desert a City: An Introduction to the Study of Egyptian & Palestinian Monasticism under the Christian Empire [Crestwood, NY: SVS, 1995], p. xv).

In conclusion, here is the ‘Hymn of Praise’ for St Acacius from the Prologue by St Nicholas (Velimirović):

The elder summoned his novice:
‘Brother Acacius, where are you?’
The elder called once more:
‘Acacius, are you dead?’

‘No, Father, I am not dead,’
The monk humbly replied,
‘For him who faithfully obeys,
There is no death.’

The irascible elder was amazed,
Amazed, and began to weep.
The elder bitterly wept,
And repented of his wickedness.

Why does the cruel elder repent?
Truly, he has a reason.
Into the wilderness, the sinner went
To atone for his evil.

Acacius, the wondrous monk,
By obedience, saved his soul;
And his soul now rejoices,
And his name is glorified.

'In Her Was All Manner of Philosophy'—St Catherine of Alexandria

Today, 24 November on the Church’s calendar, we celebrate the memory of the Great Martyr Catherine of Alexandria. I posted on St Catherine for her feastday last year (here), so I’ll just add one or two things to what I offered there. First, here is the account of her life in the Prologue (St Nicholas [Velimirović], The Prologue from Ochrid, Vol. 4, trans. Mother Maria [Birmingham: Lazarica, 1986], p. 235):

The daughter of King Constus, she lived with her mother in Alexandria after her father’s death. Her mother was secretly a Christian and, through her spiritual father, brought Katharine to the Christian faith. In a vision, St Katharine received a ring from the Lord Jesus Himself as a sign of her betrothal to Him. This ring remains on her finger to this day. Katharine was greatly gifted by God, exceptionally well-educated in Greek philosophy, medicine, rhetoric and logic, and added great physical beauty to this. When the wicked Emperor Maxentius offered sacrifice to idols and ordered everyone to do the same, St Katharine came with daring before him and denounced his idolatrous errors. The Emperor, seeing that she surpassed him in wisdom and learning, summoned fifty of the wisest men, to dispute with her about faith and put her to shame, but Katharine was wiser than they, and put them to shame. The furious Emperor commanded that all fifty wise men be burned. These wise men, at St Katharine’s prayers, all confessed the name of Christ at the moment of death, and proclaimed themselves Christians. When the martyr was in prison, she brought Porphyrius the general, with two hundred of his soldiers, to the Faith, and also the Empress, Augusta-Vasilissa. They all suffered for Christ. At St Katharine’s martyrdom, an angel of God appeared to her, stopping and breaking the wheel on which she was being tortured, and after that the Lord Christ Himself appeared to her, strengthening her. After many tortures, Katharine was beheaded with the sword at the age of eighteen, on November 24th, 310. Milk flowed from her body in place of blood. Her wonderworking relics are preserved on Sinai.

This article, by one Paul Carus in a 1907 issue of The Open Court, points out that the earliest reference to St Catherine is in a 9th-c. document called the Menologium Basilianum, and reads as follows:

The martyr Aikaterina was the daughter of a rich and noble prince of Alexandria. She was very beautiful, and being at the same time highly talented, she devoted herself to Greek literature as well as to the study of the languages of all nations, and so she became wise and learned. And it happened that the Greeks held a festival in honor of their idols; and seeing the slaughter of animals, she was so greatly moved that she went to the King Maximinus and expostulated with him in these words: ‘Why hast thou left the living God to worship lifeless idols?’ But the Emperor caused her to be thrown into prison, and to be punished severely. He then ordered fifty orators to be brought, and bade them to reason with Aikaterina, and confute her, threatening to burn them all if they should fail to overpower her. The orators, however, when they saw themselves vanquished, received baptism, and were burnt forthwith, while she was beheaded.

Holy Transfiguration Monastery’s Great Horologion (Boston: HTM, 1997), p. 322, clarifies a potential point of confusion over the date:

According to the ancient usage, Saints Catherine and Mercurius were celebrated on the 24th of this month, whereas the holyh Hieromartyrs Clement of Rome and Peter of Alexandria were celebrated on the 25th. The dates of the feasts of these Saints were interchanged at the request of the Church and Monastery of Mount Sinai, so that the festival of Saint Catherine, their patron, might be celebrated more festively together with the Apodosis of the Feast of the Entry of the Theotokos. The Slavic Churches, however, commemorate these Saints on their original dates.

In regards to my earlier post, I’d like to repeat the interesting point that this woman, who has left no written works behind her, has nevertheless traditionally been considered the patron Saint of scholars and philosophers (she is, for instance, the patron of Balliol College, Oxford). Here is a passage from the Golden Legend of Jacobus de Voragine (William Caxton's translation) discussing her philosophical virtues:

First she appeared marvellous in wisdom, in her was all manner of philosophy. Philosophy is divided in three, in theory, in practice, and in logic. Theory is divided in three, that is intellectual, natural, and mathematical. The blessed Katherine had science intellectual in knowledge of things divine, of which she used against the masters, to whom she proved to be but one very God only, and convanquished all the false gods. Secondly, she had science natural of which she used in disputing against the emperor. Thirdly, she had science mathematical, that is a science that be holdeth the forms and the manner of things, and this science had she in despising the earthly things, for she withdrew her heart from all earthly matter. She showed to have this science when she answered to the emperor, when he demanded who she was, and said: I am Katherine, daughter of king Costus, and how she had been nourished in purple. And hereof used she when she enharded the queen to despise the world and herself, and to desire the reign perdurable. The practice is divided in three manners, in ethic, economic, and politic. The first teacheth to inform manners and adorn him with virtues, and that appertaineth to all men. The second teacheth to rule and govern well his meiny, and that appertaineth to them that have men to govern. The third appertaineth to the governors of cities, for she teacheth to govern the peoples, the cities, and the commons. And these three sciences had the blessed Katherine. First, she had in herself all honesty of manners; secondly, she ruled her meiny laudably, which was left to her, thirdly, she informed wisely the emperor. Logic is divided in three, in demonstrative, in probable, and in sophistical. The first pertaineth to philosophers, the second to rhetors and logicians, and the third to sophisters, and these three sciences had Katherine in her, for she disputed with the emperor.

Finally, I shall now, as promised, offer something from the beautiful blog, Under the Oak. The resident blogger there, an Irish Orthodox lady fittingly named Brigit, has discovered an Old Irish poem in praise of St Catherine (here is Brigit’s post, which also features the Irish text; here is her source):

Réalta an chruinne Caitir Fhíona
(Star of the world, Catherine)
Author unknown
Meter: snéadbhairdne

Star of the world, Catherine,
the helper of the Greeks,
Helping the chosen children, saving each,
there at their dying.

Catherine, honored daughter,
branch of virtue,
a face like fresh appleblossom,
green brow.

A green brow on the Greek king's daughter
not captured by a suitor—
in the shade of her cheeks is brightness
and a berry's color.

Berry's color and sun's garland
in crimson cheeks—
many a knee bending from the source
in tufted locks.

In the shape of her curved eyes, Catherine
is not surpassed by Greek women.
Curved eyes do not look at a young man—
bright-toothed dark mouth.

Face like an apple, breast like a swan,
a virgin not violated.
Down is not brighter than her shining white hand—
green eyes, bright cheeks.

The virgin with her cheeks will not be found
without my suit;
stretch your cloak over my madness,
son of Mary.

Brigid of Ireland and Scotland,
the virgin of the islands—
she is the misty-bright flower of the young women,
coral-collared.

Athrachta, helper of Limerick—
speedy enough
is the white-soled young woman of the Boyle,
wax candle.

Gentle white Ciaran, Columcille—
gentle the company—
Patrick, Martin, Mongan, Manann,
Coman, Coireall.

The Trinity, great Mary and Michael—
sunny band—
eleven thousand noble virgins of the Boyle,
flower of pure virgins.

'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.

The Venerable Sinaites of Serbia

This morning, 6 May on the Church’s calendar, apart from Righteous Job the Long-suffering my favourite online Orthodox calendar listed a group of Saints as follows: ‘Venerable Sinaites [Синајци] of Serbia: Romil of Ravanica, Romanos of Ravanica, Sisoje of Sinai and Sisojevac, Martirije of Rukumije, Grigorije of Gornjak, Zosim of Tuman and Gregory of Sinai’.

I suppose, knowing that St Gregory of Sinai himself, the last named of the group (if this does not refer to another Gregory), really was from Sinai, and remembering that at least Romil and Romanos were his direct or indirect disciples, I might have surmised that here the term ‘Sinaites’ is referring to a group of hesychastic disciples of St Gregory of Sinai. But still, it was neat to have only just come across a reference to them in an article I had long planned to read but finally acquired only last Thursday: Anthony-Emil Tachiaos’s ‘Gregory Sinaites’ Legacy to the Slavs: Preliminary Remarks’, Cyrillomethodianum 7, 1983, pp. 113-65. I shall simply give in full the paragraph where Tachiaos explains the background to the ‘Venerable Sinaites of Serbia’:

We have specific evidence that Gregory of Sinai’s Hesychast spirituality penetrated into Serbia from the Life of Romylos the monk, a testimony that goes back to the time of Prince Lazarus (1371-1389). Romylos was born in Vidin of a Greek father and a Bulgarian mother. At an early age he became a monk in the Monastery of the Hodegetria in Tirnovo, and it was while he was there that he heard about Gregory of Sinai, who was then in Paroria for the second time. Struck by Gregory’s wide renown and in the face of his abbot’s objections, Romylos went to Paroria and was accompanied by another monk, named Hilarion. There they remained until Gregory’s death in 1364, after which they want to Zagora in the district of Tirnovo. The rest of Romylos’ life is a saga of ceaseless wandering. He returned to Paroria, as Gregory’s biographer also did from Constantinople, and later the two of them, with Hilarion, set off once more for Zagora. But again they did not remain there long, and we see them moving backwards and forwards between Paroria, Zagora and Athos. They stayed on Athos for a fairly lengthy period. To begin with, Romylos lived in the Melana region, near Lavra Monastery, subsequently moving to the foot of Athos mountain, where his disciple and biographer Gregory helped him to build a cell. he lived a hermit’s life there until the death of the despot John Uglješa in 1371, which was followed by a Turkish attack on Mount Athos. This sent Romylos to the town of Valona on the Adriatic coast, where he lived for a short time; but later, disappointed by the low moral standards prevailing there, he set off with his disciples for Serbia. He selected the environs of Ravanica Monastery for his place of ascesis, a monastery founded by Prince Lazarus in 1376 or 1377. It would seem that, since Ravanica Monastery had maintained close relations with Mount Athos from the time of its foundation, it offered Romylos a familiar environment. It was also his last home. After his death, his pupil and biographer Gregory went to Serbia, where, together with the monks who went with him, he settled in Gornjak Monastery, which Prince Lazarus had set apart especially for him. There Gregory built up a monastic centre of upholders of Gregory of Sinai’s Hesychast tradition, and these monks became known in Serbian history as ‘Sinaites’. It may have been due to these Hesychasts that during the time of Prince Lazarus the elements of Byzantine Orthodoxy gained strength in the spiritual life of Serbia, whereas western trends suffered the opposite effect. Thus the Hesychast mystic tradition of Gregory of Sinai came into Serbia during the time of Prince Lazarus, and to a probably limited extent. As a dogma and philosophical conviction, on the other hand, Hesychasm prevailed utterly in the Serbian Church during the XIVth century.

Incidentally, I came across a passage in Tachiaos’s article that reminded me a bit of Elizabeth Kostova’s vampire novel, The Historian (NY: Back Bay, 2006), which I’ve a mentioned a time or two. Tachiaos, an historian no less (!), quotes a study by G. Gorov entitled ‘Местонахождението на средневековната Парория и Синаитовия монастир’ in Исторически преглед, 28.1 (1972), p. 75:

Paroria is none other than the frontier mountain range of Bosna-Živak-Ugraš-Hadzijka Athman in present-day Inner Strandža, and . . . the Sinaite’s monastery was on the site of the present-day chapel of Sveta Petka (Balaklija), in the locality of Manastirăt, on the right-hand bank of the mountain river Zaberska reka, between the villages of Zbernovo and Kalovo. (qtd. in Tachiaos, p. 117)

The interesting thing is that the ‘Sveti Georgi’ monastery that the charactres in The Historian are looking for is gone, and its old church has now become ‘the Church of Sveti Petko the Martyr’ (the more recent name is mentioned in p. 568, the revelation of its former identity on p. 586; it would take some serious rereading to determine, but there may also be a demonstrable geographic link involving, among other things, the river Gorov mentions). A search for ‘Saint Petko’ turned up the following from this website:

There is another, parallel line in the meaning of Saint Petka’s day [in Bulgaria]. According to popular belief, there is a male-saint by the same name—Saint Petko, who is patron of this day. This saint takes the guise of a wolf—probably a leftover from the ancient cult of the wolf as a sacred animal. Saint Petka’s day, and the whole month of October as well as November are considered to be a transition from autumn to winter. That is why people in villages harboured great fears about the coming months of snow and cold. Winter was regarded as the time of wild animals. In their honour, these transition months are rich in long ritual periods and all kinds of days—like Beast days, Wolf days, Mouse days. Bear days. In the past, people were acutely aware of the presence of forest beasts. And the rituals and feast days, preceding the winter were a magic charm to ward off these fears. Through ritual taboos and sacrifices, the animals of danger to man were neutralized and sent far away.

It is also worth noting that the protagonists are assisted in attempting to locate Sveti Georgi by a pious Bulgarian scholar—Anton Stoichev—with an expertise in the wanderings of 15th-c. (not 14th-c., since it had to coincide with the end of Vlad’s life) Orthodox monks. Perhaps Stoichev owes something to Gorov? Unfortunately I know nothing about the latter!

'With the Spirit, He Learned the Mysteries'—St Anastasius of Sinai

Today, 20 April on the Church’s calendar, we celebrate the memory of the Holy Anastasius, Abbot of Sinai. Unfortunately, it is easy to become confused about this St Anastasius, since there appear to be two other Saints Anastasius celebrated today, and a fourth celebrated tomorrow. Furthermore, while the Catholic Encyclopedia article claims that he died after 700, the Prologue—wherein he is n. 2 today—states that our Saint died in 685. Finally, the Holy Apostles Convent’s Sinai Gerontikon, from which I give his Life below, claims, ‘His death occurred during the reign of Emperor Heraclius (610-641)’ (The Lives of the Saints of the Holy Land and Sinai Desert, trans. and comp. Holy Apostles Convent [Buena Vista, CO: Holy Apostles Convent, 1997], p. 245). Here is the account of St Anastasius’s life as given in this source (pp. 244-5):

Saint Anastasius was raised from his early youth in great piety. At an early age he was taught to call upon Christ the true God, to believe in Him, to fear Him with unfeigned fear and, with all his heart, to love Him and worship Him with fitting adoration.

Having reached maturity, he left the world, and, taking up his cross in obedience to the evangelic commandment, he denied himself and followed Christ. He retired to a monastery and became a monk. He aspired to achieve the highest possible feats of virtue and strove to emulate them that were perfect in virtue. Therefore, he betook himself to Jerusalem and then settled at Mt Sinai which was under the famous abbot, St John of the Ladder. It is here that he practised the ascetic life, together with many holy men who were successful in the feats of monastic asceticism.

On account of his utter humility, the blessed man received from God the gift of spiritually edifying conversations. He was an eloquent narrator and recorded the lives of saints and other instructive works. He was also deemed worthy of the office of priest. Upon the repose of both St John of the Ladder and his brother George, our Anastasius became abbot of Mt Sinai.

He was called to fight against certain heretics called Acephali, that is, ‘headless’. He contended with the adherents of this heresy, which was born in Alexandria during the reign of Emperor Zeno (474-491). This heresy was opposed to the Fourth Ecumenical Synod at Chalcedon, held in 451). Anastasius wrote much against them and exposed them, covering them with shame. He not only fought and defeated these heretics in the Sinai, but in his travelss through Syria, Arabia and Egypt. He uprooted them in every place and confirmed the Church of Christ. Having served the Lord as a confessor, he was translated to the Lord, Whom he served so faithfully, in deep old age. His death occurred during the reign of Emperor Heraclius (610-641).

St Anastasius is considered the author of several works. Here is Fr Georges Florovsky’s account of three of them (The Byzantine Fathers from the Sixth to Eighth Century, trans. Raymond Miller, et al., Vol. 9 in The Collected Works of Georges Florovsky [Vaduz: Büchervertriebsanstalt, 1987], p. 30):

His main work is The Guide—Ὁδηγός. It would be better to translate this as ‘handbook’. It was composed from individual chapters and epistles in which St Anastasius investigates the individual and particular objections of the Monophysites on the basis of the Scriptures and from the testimony of the ancients. The book containing One Hundred and Fifty-Four Questions and Answers is of the same nature, although in its present form it cannot be considered his. This work is more a handbook of eristics (the art of debate) rather than one of ‘dialectics’. True, St Anastasius unmasks the spirit of petty, abstruse questioning; however, he himself looks into petty difficulties and permits perplexing questions. For the historian there are many important details in this work, especially in the explanation and application of the texts from Scripture. His references to the ancients are also very important. . . .

We must also consider the possibility that St Anastasius may indeed be the author of a work entitled The Interpretation of the Six Days [Ἑξαήμερον]. Of the twelve original books, only the last has come down to us in the original [the other eleven are only extant in a Latin trans.]. The explanation is given only allegorically (‘anagogic contemplations’). St Anastasius explains the psalms as well. It must be stressed that St Anastasius always thinks in Aristotelian categories, although he considers ‘Aristotle’s blather’ to be the source of all heresies.

Besides those writings that Fr Florovsky mentions, there is also St Anastasius’s Narrations, a collection of miracle stories and tales of holy Sinaite monks. The St Gregory Palamas Monastery in Ohio has completed a full translation of this work and posted it on their website (HT to Kevin Edgecomb; it can also be found here, at Monachos.net). Here is the first story:

1. Ten years ago a certain two of the fathers of Holy Mount Sinai went up to worship on the Holy Summit. One of them is still alive. When they arrived at a distance of about two bow-shot from (the chapel of) Saint Elias they smelled a fragrance unlike any worldly fragrance. Then the disciple thought that the one who dwelt there was offering incense. The elder, his spiritual guide who is still living said, ‘The fragrance is not of this earth.’

Therefore, approaching the church, behold they saw within it like a fiery flaming kiln with tongues of fire coming from all the doors (and windows). Then, seeing this the disciple feared the sight. But the elder reassured him saying, ‘Why are you afraid, my child. It is an angelic power and our fellow servant; don’t lose courage. They venerate our nature in heaven; not we theirs.’ Thus they fearlessly entered the church as if (going) into a kiln. They prayed and thus they ascended to the summit in the morning.

Beholding them, the guardian (of the peak) saw their faces glorified and shining like the face of Moses and he said to them, ‘Did you see anything unusual coming up?’ Wanting to conceal the matter, they said, ‘No’. Then he said to them, ‘Believe me, you saw some vision for behold your faces are radiant with the glory of the Holy Spirit.’ They bowed to him and related the matter, asking that he tell nobody.

St Nicholas (Velimirović) of Ohrid has written a lovely ‘Hymn of Praise’ for St Anastasius in the Prologue entry for today:

Anastasius, the God-bearing father,
Upon himself assumed prayerful labor and fasting,
Mortification he maintained, long and persistent,
Until, with the spirit, he learned the mysteries.
Then, his honey-mouth he opened:
Christ is, says he, the rock of salvation.
Do not insanely say: He was a long time ago,
Where is He now in order to speak to me?
The Good News, his Covenant Holy,
Who is able to resist it?
It speaks to you in place of Christ Himself,
That is His All-Pure Mouth!
Again, you speak: I desire to see Him!
Look with your whole mind and heart
At Holy Communion, from wine and bread,
There, in the flesh is He; what else do you need?
Repent, O brother, repent of your sins,
A thousand deaths around you stand!
To your spiritual father, your sins confess,
After that, drink His Blood and eat His Body.
Only repent. If you begin with repentance
You will live with justice and shining hope.
Repent, O brother, repent of your sins,
A thousand deaths, around you stand!

Joseph A. Munitiz, SJ, Master of Campion Hall, Oxford, has an interesting-looking article (which I’ve not yet read through) on St Anastasius’s approach to questions about death in the 154 Questions & Answers, here, in the Dumbarton Oaks Papers. Also, there is a fascinating fuller description of the Hexaemeron here, in the Wikipedia article on St Anastasius. The image above is a painting of the Saint by Rembrandt—‘St Anastasius in His Cell’ (1631). If anyone can tell me what made Rembrandt paint St Anastasius, I'd love to hear it! One blogger has posted a brief appreciation of it here, but I shall post a much more in-depth one, taken from Émile Michel, Rembrandt: His Life, His Work, and His Time, Vol. 1, trans. Florence Simmonds, ed. Frederick Wedmore (NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1894), pp. 65-6 (found on Google Books):

The year 1631 was marked by an advance still more decisive, and was one of the most prolific in Rembrandt’s busy career. In the St Anastasius in the Stockholm Museum (No. 579), which bears this date, and the signature Rembrant in microscopic characters on a manuscript, we recognise the old man who figures so repeatedly in the etchings, and who reappears a little later as one of the Philosophers in the Louvre: refined of feature, bald and prominent of brow, with small eyes and a large white beard. The saint is seated near a window, in a lofty vaulted oratory, divided by an arcade from a flagged corridor beyond; against one of the uprights of this arcade is an altar of carved stone, and on it a crucifix set in a framework of small reddish marble columns with gilded shafts and capitals. He rests his left hand on the arm of his chair, and reads devoutly from a great folio on the table. His dress is a red skull-cap and a long robe of that purple-gray tint so much in favour with the painter at this period. Its cool tones, repeated here and there in the pale sky beyond, the curtains of the arcade, and the pavement of the adjoining vestibule, are happily contrasted with the warm browns and yellows that pervade the picture. The harmony of these deliberately juxtaposed tints is very delicate. Contrary to the usual practice of novices, Rembrandt shows great reticence in his scheme of colour; he is content with what is little more than monochrome, and concentrates all his skill on chiaroscuro. The penumbra of the more strongly illuminated surfaces, and their reflections are rendered with absolute truth, and the execution, as befits the quiet tonality, is at once light and precise. The meditative attitude of the old man, the expression of his features, the light and stillness that surround him as he sits absorbed in meditation, make up a whole full of infinite sweetness and charm.

The Prophet Moses & the Precious Cross'—The 2nd Lecture of Fr Justin Sinaites

In the Irmos of Ode 1 of the Canon from Matins for the 1st Sunday of Lent, we sang, ‘In ancient times Israel walked dry-shod across the Red Sea, and Moses, lifting his hands in the form of the Cross, put the power of Amalek to flight in the desert.’ We sang it again last night as the first Irmos for the Canon of the Service of Holy Unction, and when I saw those words on the page, I thought, ‘At last!’ The time has come for the long-awaited post on the second lecture I was able to attend by Fr Justin of Sinai, the librarian of St Catherine’s Monastery (see the post on the first lecture here, and my original announcement of the forthcoming second post here). I’m afraid this post won’t be as glorious as I had hoped, as I don’t have all of the materials I was hoping to have to work from, but hey, it is what it is.

The title of the lecture was ‘The Hermit City of Pharan: The Biblical Rephidim’, a title which naturally suggested to me a lecture on biblical archæology. Well, my friends, there was indeed a bit of that, but there was much, much more as well. Fr Justin began by identifying the site of ‘Rephidim’, where the Israelites fought the Amalekites during their march from Egypt to Sinai (Ex. 17:1, 8), with an oasis called Wadi Feiran, a ‘broad valley’ some 25 miles from Mt Sinai. It seems that at some point during the Christian era, anchorites began to settle there, and by the end of the fourth century it had become a veritable city of monks (thus ‘Hermit City of Pharan’). Fr Justin spent no little time showing slides of various ruined cells and especially the churches there, complete with floorplans and even pieces of an altar.

But then he pointed out that rather than having to rely on ruins to get an idea of where these monks were worshipping, we could look at St Catherine’s itself, which has been well preserved. Fr Justin indicated a number of similarities in layout and design between the ruins and the surviving katholikon at Sinai, right down to the altar fragment, which was very nearly identical to the holy table at St Catherine’s. Fr Justin further added that by exploring St Catherine’s we could learn more than just the sort of settings in which the monks at Pharan were worshipping, we could learn more about the meaning of their life there itself.

It was at this point that Fr Justin introduced one of his specialties—manuscripts. In this case it was something called the ‘Sinai Greek 2’. This MS is a partial Pentateuch (covering Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus) once dated to the 11th or 12th centuries, but recently suggested as belonging to the 10th. The striking thing about it (for it is nowhere near as beautiful or lavish as the Sinai Codex Theodosianus), is the patristic commentary surrounding the main body of text. The comments are taken from a wide range of authors, with Eusebius of Emesa, St Cyril of Alexandria, and Theodoret of Cyrrhus predominating (I noted that it was interesting that the last author actually wrote against St Cyril at one point!). When one reaches the final portions of each book, however, they begin to be reduced to Theodoret only, leading Fr Justin to mention that this gradual diminution of scope is quite common and to suggest that the copyist of the commentary simply ran out of steam.

From there, Fr Justin got more to the point, and began to refer to various specific comments from patristic authors, first on the Prophet Moses himself (e.g., his preservation in the ark and his flight to Midian, both seen as types of Christ), and then on the account in Exodus directly relevant to the events at Rephidim (Exodus 17:8-13). Of course, I would love to be able to cite all of the particular passages from the Fathers that Fr Justin used, but it seems to me that one rather representative commentary will do just as nicely. I shall quote St John Chrysostom’s comments—apparently among those given in the MS—concerning this passage in his Homily 14 on the Gospel of St John (Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, Old Testament III: Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, ed. Joseph T. Lienhard [Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2001], p. 92; also available online here):

See how the type was given through Moses but the truth came through Jesus Christ. And again, on Mt Sinai, when the Amalekites were waging war on the Hebrews, the hands of Moses were propped up, held by Aaron and Hur standing on either side. But Christ, when he came, himself held his hands extended on the cross by his own power. Do you see how the type ‘was given’ and ‘the truth came’?

Although I do not recall whether Fr Justin mentioned them, other very similar interpretations are given of this passage by various Fathers in the ACCS, OT III (pp. 91-3), and indeed, when he was still with ROCOR, Fr Michael Azkoul wrote, ‘Moses on the hillside with his hands outstretched is everywhere taught by the Fathers to be a type of the Cross’ (The Teachings of the Holy Orthodox Church, Vol. I: God, Creation, Old Israel, Christ [Buena Vista, CO: Dormition Skete, 1986], p. 133). He points out that such an interpretation goes back at least as far as St Barnabas, the companion of St Paul (Epistle of Barnabas 12:2; The Apostolic Fathers, 2nd ed., trans. J.B. Lightfoot and J.R. Harmer, ed. and rev. Michael W. Holmes [Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1996], p. 178), and cites similar passages from St Justin Martyr and St Cyprian of Carthage (pp. 133-4).

Having thus directed our attention from the Prophet Moses to the Precious Cross, Fr Justin showed a slide of a cross decorating the capitals of some of the columns in the katholikon at Sinai. Below each arm of the cross were the Greek letters Α and Ω (alpha and omega), which of course is how Christ refers to Himself in Revelation 1:8, 21:6, and 22:13 (I don’t have an image of the capital at Sinai, but it is a device that has been used elsewhere as well; see for example the coat of arms of the Principality of Asturias, Spain, here).



But, said Fr Justin as he went to his next slide, Α and Ω are also the first letters of the names of the Prophets Aaron (Ἀαρὼν) and Hur (Ὢρ) in Greek, and he then showed a slide of a beautiful icon kept in a chapel near Pharan showing the Prophets Aaron and Hur supporting the Prophet Moses’s arms like the Α and Ω under the arms of the Cross. (At this point the audience at Dallas Theological Seminary gasped in surprise and started looking around at each other!) Fr Justin then referred to the hymnography for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Precious Cross. Consider, for example, the first stanza of Ode I of the Canon in Tone 8 for the Feast (The Festal Menaion, trans. Mother Mary and Archim. Kallistos [Ware] [South Canaan, PA: St Tikhon’s Seminary, 1998], p. 144):

In times past Moses, standing between the two men of God, prefigured in his person the undefiled Passion. Forming a cross with his outstretched hands, he raised a standard of victory and overthrew the power of all-destroying Amalek. Therefore let us sing to Christ our God, for He has been glorified.

If we then consider the words of a 6th-c. abbot of Sinai, St John Climacus, we shall better understand the full significance of the establishment of monastic life in the valley of Pharan (The Ladder of Divine Ascent, rev. ed. trans. Archim. Lazarus [Moore] [Boston: Holy Transfiguration Monastery, 1991], p. 5 [Ladder 1:7 in the HTM ed.; 1:14 in the Greek]):

Those of us who wish to go out of Egypt, and to fly from Pharaoh, certainly need some Moses as a mediator with God and from God, who, standing between action and divine vision, will raise hands of prayer for us to God, so that guided by him we may cross the sea of sin and rout the Amalek of the passions.

Thus, Fr Justin concluded, for the monks of Pharan, the Prophet Moses had a special significance, tied not only with the nearby Mt Sinai, but with Pharan itself. The God-seer was a type of our Lord Jesus Christ, and also of the spiritual life of the individual Christian. For what else are the fundamentals of the Christian life but the taking up of the Cross and the routing of the passions? For this struggle, proximity to the scene of the historical events that prefigured our salvation would have been a powerful aid to the monks of Pharan.

Well there you have it. But I ask that if Fr Justin or anyone else who was present at the lecture and recalls the details better than I have reads this post, by all means supplement or correct me! Unfortunately, this is the best I can do from my scanty notes, and I know I have not done it justice. Thank you to Fr Justin for the image of the icon!

Addendum: I just found the following lines in Fr Ephrem's translation of Matins for the Sunday before Nativity (here):

Aaron with Hor depicts Christ’s suffering,
Both raising Moses arms up like a Cross.

'Thou Art in Truth a Lawgiver Like Moses'—St John Climacus

Today, 30 March on the Church’s calendar, we celebrate St John Climacus, ‘of the Ladder’ (525-606), Abbot of St Catherine’s Monastery, Mt Sinai. Very little is known about the details of his life. As Fr Georges Florovsky has remarked, the Life of St John written by Daniel of Raithu (‘A short account of the life of Abba John, abbot of the Holy Mount Sinai, surnamed the Scholastic and truly one of the saints’, The Ladder of Divine Ascent, by St John Climacus, rev. ed., trans. Archim. Lazarus [Moore], rev. Holy Transfiguration Monastery [Boston: Holy Transfiguration Monastery, 1991], pp. xxxiv-xxxviii) is an ‘encomium’ and not a biography—it illuminates his spiritual life beautifully, but Fr Florovsky himself must satisfy our modern lust for dates and place-names (The Byzantine Ascetic and Spiritual Fathers, trans. Raymond Miller, et al., Vol. 10 in The Collected Works of Georges Florovsky [Vaduz, Europa: Büchervertriebsanstalt, 1987], p. 241):

From circumstantial data it is possible to hazard a guess that he died in the mid seventh-century. His life is usually given from about 570 until 649. He came to Sinai in his early youth and spent his whole life there. However, it seems that he spent some time in Egypt, in Scete, and in Tabennesis. For many years he contended in obedience to a certain elder. After the latter’s death, St John withdrew into seclusion and lived as a hermit in a cave, which was not far off but was secluded.

St John was already an extremely old man when he was chosen the abbot of Mt Sinai. He was not abbot for long, and again went into seclusion. In seclusion he compossed his famous and extraordinarily influential work entitled Heavenly Ladder—κλῖμαξ τοῦ παραδείσου—‘a book called the Spiritual Tablets’, ‘for the edification of the new Israelites, the people who have just come out of a mental Egypt and from the sea of life’.

In a Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, when we also celebrated St John, Metropolitan Philaret of blessed memory writes (Ladder, p. xxxi):

He was surnamed ‘of the Ladder’ (Climacus) because he wrote an immortal work, the Ladder of Divine Ascent. In this work, we see how, by means of thirty steps, the Christian gradually ascends from below to the heights of supreme spiritual perfection. We see how one virtue leads to another, as a man rises higher and higher and finally attains to that height where there abides the crown of the virtues, which is called ‘Christian love’.

St John wrote his immortal work especially for the monastics, but in the past his Ladder was always favorite reading in Russia for anyone zealous to live piously, though he were not a monk. Therein the Saint clearly demonstrates how a man passes from one step to the next.

The introduction to the HTM edition illustrates Met. Philaret’s comments by pointing out the fondness for the Ladder of such Orthodox rulers as Tsar Ivan IV and the Serbian Despot George Branković (Ladder, pp. xxv-xxvi).

It is interesting to note Fr Florovsky’s comment that St John ‘was writing from his own personal experience’ (p. 241). In his letter to St John requesting that he write a book, Abbot John of Raithu actually compares the Abbot of Sinai to the Prophet Moses, since he has ‘seen the vision of God’, and asks him ‘to send us a book like the divinely written tablets’ that the Prophet brought down from Sinai (Ladder, xli). The monk Daniel of Raithu makes the same comparison (Ladder, p. xxxviii):

He approached the mountain, he entered the innermost darkness [cf. Exodus 20:21] and, mounting by spiritual steps, he received the divinely written law and divine vision; he opened his mouth for the word of God, and drew in the Spirit; then he poured forth a good word from the good treasure of his heart.

The account in the Great Synaxaristes, enlarging on Daniel’s Life, really makes the point explicit (The Lives of the Saints of the Holy Land and the Sinai Desert, trans. Holy Apostles Convent [Buena Vista, CO: HAC, 1988], p. 200):

. . . [St John] crossed over the heavenly degrees with his mind, drawing nigh to God through ineffable contemplation. For, after purifying his soul and constantly cleansing its eye, he perceived the vision of God. In the future, like Moses of old, he would come down to his fellows [‘those new Israelites, the monks of Sinai’], bearing the tablets of God’s law, his Ladder (which we will speak about further down).

Finally, it is a theme taken up as well by the hymnography for St John. In the 4th Ode of the second canon for the 4th Sunday of Lent, we read (The Lenten Triodion, trans. Mother Mary and Archim. Kallistos [Ware] [South Canaan, PA: STS, 1994], p. 360):

For all who follow the ascetic and monastic way, thou art in truth a lawgiver like Moses, a meek and gentle ruler like David; and we bless thee, father.

One of my own favourite passages from the Ladder has long been the opening of Step 3, Περὶ ξενιτείας, ‘On Exile or Pilgrimage’ in the HTM edition (Ladder, p. 14):

1. Exile means that we leave forever everything in our own country that prevents us from reaching the goal of piety. Exile means modest manners, wisdom which remains unknown, prudence not recognized as such by most, a hidden life, an invisible intention, unseen meditation, desire for humiliation, longing for hardship, constant determination to love God, abundance of love, renunciation of vainglory, depth of silence.

There is a helpful footnote on the title of this Step (Ladder, p. 14, n. 2), which reads:

This is a double translation for a single Greek word ξενιτεία which means ‘living as a stranger’ (not necessarily as a vagrant) and might be translated ‘unworldliness’. But several considerations, notably paragraphs 6 and 22 of this chapter, have led me to think that, in our author’s time, the word contained a notion of movement also, and might be rendered ‘pilgrimage’. However, in the text we have kept to the word ‘exile’.

I might also add the observation that the phrase here rendered ‘modest manners’ is an interesting one: ἀπαρρησίαστον ἦθος. I can’t recall where, but I’ve seen παρρησία used to refer to the relationship of the Saints with God, that is, in the sense of ‘familiarity’, or ‘closeness of contact’ (and it seems like Peter Brown has discussed this notion). It is thus interesting to see the antonym used in reference to our relationship with the world. Certainly, ‘absence of familiarity in conduct’ seems like an extremely ‘counter-cultural’ (in the good sense) ethical prescription, at odds, perhaps, with our modern obsession with all that is casual and informal.

Interestingly, the Ladder has not been without influence in the West. Its most illustrious reader there is perhaps the Abbot de Rancé (1626-1700), who founded the Trappist reform of the Cistercian Order. Thomas Merton observes, ‘The reformer of La Trappe, Abbot de Rancé, knew it [the Ladder] well and imbibed its spirit, probably from a Greek edition published in France in 1633 [it would seem this is the edition of the Jesuit, Matthew Rader, later printed in Migne’s Patrologia Graeca]. A Trappist monk of Mount Saint Bernard, England, was the author of the only English translation in existence before the present text [the original edition of Archimandrite Lazarus’s translation]’ (‘The Spirituality of Sinai’, Disputed Questions [NY: New American Library, 1960], p. 74). Fr Placide (Deseille) tells us, ‘Somewhat later [in his novitiate as a Trappist] I was obliged to read the writings of Saint Dorotheos of Gaza and Saint John of the Ladder, both of whom had been, for the Abbot de Rancé, the great reformer of the (monastery of) Trappe in the seventeenth century, the principle sources of inspiration at the time of his conversion’ (‘Stages of a Pilgrimage’, The Living Witness of the Holy Mountain: Contemporary Voices from Mt Athos, trans. Hieromonk Alexander [Golitzin] [South Canaan, PA: STS, 1999], p. 65).

Of course, Merton himself is much better known today than the Abbot de Rancé. But unfortunately, he does not seem to have ‘imbibed’ the spirit of the Ladder so well as his predecessor. The author of the introduction to the HTM edition points out that they have ‘misplaced’ Merton’s book in their library, ‘and so do not have it here presently before us’ (Ladder, p. xxii), but I know right where mine is! It’s true that, as they say, ‘he wrote somewhat enthusiastically about the book, praising it in many ways’ (ibid.). Merton also makes some amusing comments—contrasting the Ladder with the famous Imitation of Christ, he writes, ‘First of all, the Ladder is seldom, if ever, tender. It is a tough, hard-hitting, merciless book. Climacus was a kind of sixth-century desert Hemingway’ (Merton, p. 72). Even when the HTM intro suggests that he gets it wrong—his belief that the ‘Prison’ (in Step 5), the repentant inhabitants of which St John praises so highly, is essentially a collection of mentally ill persons—he’s not as bad as they remember. Despite the clearly modern thrust to his comments, he admits that this section ‘has in it a deep spiritual truth’ (p. 78).

But, as the HTM intro acknowledges, it is mainly in his life rather than in his obscure review of Fr Lazarus’s translation that Merton shows his departure from St John’s spirit (not to mention that of the Abbot de Rancé):

Thomas Merton read the Ladder and even wrote a review of it. He read other books of the sayings of the Fathers and wrote many books himself. Yet what was the outcome? They did not fill the void within. As a Trappist, he had exterior hesychia to the full, but not having found interior hesychia he left his exterior one and travelled to the Far East, there to seek from the worshippers of demons new insights and techniques for finding God. And it is there that this hapless man, instead of finding God, found only his own tragic death. (Ladder, p. xxiii)

A sermon on St John by the renowned 102 year-old Metropolitan Augoustinos (Kantiotes) of Florina can be found here (scroll down for the English!). Fr Deacon Matthew Steenberg has a nice article on the Ladder here. Here is the account of St John’s life in the Prologue (along with one of St Nicholas's wonderful 'Hymns of Praise'), and here is Bulgakov’s. One can find Butler’s Life here. About 13 days ago the blogger at a . . . sinner posted a good account of St John here (I don’t think he wrote it himself, but I can’t figure out the source!), and the blogger at Grace and Peace did one for the 4th Sunday here. There are some nice quotes from the Ladder here at Milk & Honey, and here, at Glory to God for All Things. But the most extensive blog post on St John was written 13 days ago here, at OrthodoxWord, and features a full list of the steps on the Ladder and at least two lengthy excerpts.

Finally, I’d like to brag about my cool Greek edition of the Ladder: that published by the Holy Monastery of the Paraclete in Oropos, Greece, and featuring an introduction, edition of the original text, Modern Greek translation, notes, and [!] charts (apparently this refers to the brief glossary, Scriptural index, and index of names and subjects) by Archimandrite Ignatius. It’s a beautiful book, inside and out!

Hieromonk Justin of Sinai Update & Book Giveaway

This is just a brief update to anyone who is interested in reading more about Fr Justin's lectures here. Thanks to God, I did indeed manage to attend the lecture at Dallas Theological Seminary today with my good friend Christopher. The lecture was entitled 'The Hermit City of Pharan, the Biblical Rephidim', and in my opinion it was even more fascinating than the last one. But I'm waiting to get some more details about some of the points I want to share before I do a real post about it. The lecture was too Logismoi-appropriate not to share some real details. For now, just be patient in the knowledge that I've got it in the works. I'm not sure that there were any other Orthodox bloggers there, aside from one George who claims not to post more than twice a year!

In other news, the magnanimous Esteban Vázquez over at 'The Voice of Stefan' has announced a book giveaway. The prize: Anthony J. Saldarini's Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian Society (1988; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001). So if you're interested in this subject (and if you read his post it may help to interest you), head on over and indicate your interest in the comments. Esteban, you are neither excessive nor deficient in giving away or taking. Aristotle would be proud!

'Sinai Codex Theodosianus: Manuscript as Icon'

Last night, I had the wonderful opportunity of driving with some friends down to the University of North Texas in Denton to see a presentation by Hieromonk Justin Sinaites, librarian of St Catherine’s Monastery, Mt Sinai, on the ‘Sinai Codex Theodosianus: Manuscript as Icon’. There have already been a few interesting blogs about the presentation, e.g., by Justin and two by Andrea Elizabeth (here and here), so I’ll try not to just repeat everything they said. But if you’re not aware, the Sinai Codex Theodosianus (cod. 204) is a beautiful Gospel lectionary from the late 10th/early 11th centuries, believed to have been made in Constantinople, and it is entirely written in gold letters. There are, I believe, seven colour icon illuminations, one each of Christ (reproduced here) and the Theotokos, one of each of the four Evangelists (one can see these here), and one of a Venerable Peter of Monovata, about whom nothing else is known. But all of the calligraphic work and decorative headings are gold, and the images Fr Justin showed are stunning.

One of the more interesting aspects of the manuscript that he highlighted was the layout of the pages. I didn’t take notes, so I don’t have the precise measurements, but Fr Justin showed how the icons and text occupied the same area of their respective pages, and how these were placed very deliberately in accordance with rules of Classical proportion (one can get some idea of how it looks from the position of the icon of Christ above).

Fr Justin also pointed out a number of textual idiosyncracies of the Gospel readings in the codex. For instance, I don’t recall precisely which, but in either St Matthew (26:26) or St Mark (14:22), during the institution of the Eucharist, rather than telling us that Jesus ‘took bread, and blessed, and broke it’, the codex has ‘took bread, and gave thanks, and broke it’, rather as in St Luke 22:19. Also, in St John 1:28, in place of ‘in Bethany beyond the Jordan’, the codex has ‘in Bethabara beyond the Jordan’, apparently following Origen’s reading (R. Riesner, ‘Archaeology and Geography’, Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels, ed. Joel B. Green, et al. [Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1992], p. 35). Finally, and I may have this one wrong, but I believe Fr Justin said that in St John 11:53, instead of ‘So from that day on they took counsel’, the codex has ‘So from that hour on they took counsel’.

Interestingly, Fr Justin spent perhaps the largest portion of the lecture explaining the justification for the veneration of icons as well as of the Gospel, and reading fairly long extracts from the writings of St Maximus the Confessor, St Theodore the Studite, and St John Damascene. I couldn’t help but wonder what all of the UNT students and faculty who weren’t Orthodox, or even Christian, were making of all of it!

Fr Justin also mentioned something he’d got from Fr Andrew Louth (he didn’t mention the exact source)—in the context of, I believe, St John Damascene’s 2nd Treatise on the Divine Images 20 (Fr Andrew Louth, trans., Three Treatises on the Divine Images, by St John of Damascus [Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir's Seminary, 2003], p. 75) , where St John cites I Corinthians 13:12, Fr Justin interpreted the reference to seeing ‘as in a mirror’ in light of Plato’s note on mirrors in Timaeus 46, A-C (see Desmond Lee, trans., Timaeus and Critias [London: Penguin, 1977], pp. 63-4, where there is a nice diagram!).

All in all, it was definitely a fascinating lecture, and as I said, the images were simply amazing. The organiser of the event, an English professor at UNT who attends the Metropolia parish in Denton, St Maximus the Confessor, graciously invited my friends and I to have dinner with them and Fr Justin at the church before the presentation. We also had the opportunity to talk with him a bit on the walk to and from the lecture hall and at a little reception at the church afterwards. Fr Justin is a true monastic, and it was a tremendous blessing to speak with him.

[See my post on a second lecture Fr Justin gave later that week, here.]

Vas electum, vas virtutum—‘A chosen vessel full of virtue’

Today, 24 November (Old Calendar) we in the Russian Church celebrate St Catherine the Great Martyr of Alexandria. In the West she has been considered the patron Saint of philosophers, because during her trial the Emperor ‘summoned fifty of the wisest men, to dispute with her about faith and put her to shame, but Katharine was wiser than they, and put them to shame (St Nicholas of Zhicha, The Prologue from Ochrid, Vol. IV: October, November, December, trans. Mother Maria [Birmingham: Lazarica, 1986], p. 235). The Prologue calls her ‘greatly gifted by God, exceptionally well-educated in Greek philosophy, medicine, rhetoric and logic’ (ibid., p. 235). According to one blogger, the mediævals had a custom of delivering encomia on Aristotle on St Catherine’s day, and she is the patron of Oxford’s Balliol College.

A Sequence attributed to Adam of St Victor is much esteemed in the West:

Let the voices of our choir resound in praise of our Creator, who disposes all things; by whom they fight who are unskilled in war, by whose power maidens triumph over men.

Through him, the people of Alexandria stand amazed to see in blessed Catherine qualities that seem above her sex, when she vanquishes learned men by her science and the sword by her courage.

To the glory of her race she adds the precious ornaments of incomparable virtue; and noble by birth, she becomes more noble still by grace and holy living.

Tender is the flower of her beauty, yet she spares it neither labour nor study; and in early youth she masters earthly science and that which is of God.

A chosen vessel full of virtue, she considers transitory goods as mire, contemning her father’s wealth and her ample patrimony.

Filing her vessel with oil, as a wise and prudent virgin, she goes to meet the Spouse; that, ready at the hour of his coming, she may enter without delay to the feast.

Longing to die for Christ, she is led before the emperor; and in his presence, by her eloquence, puts fifty philosophers to silence.

For love of God she endures the horrors of the prison, the cruel wheel, hunger and want, and all her other sufferings; she remains unchanged through all.

The tortured overcomes her torturer, a woman’s constancy triumphs over the emperor; yea, the emperor himself is tormented, seeing both executioner and torments unavailing.

At length she is beheaded, and by death ending death, enters into the joys of life, while Angels with all care bury her body in a far-off land.

An oil flowing from her body, by a visible grace heals the sick; good indeed is the unction she gives us, if she heals our vices by her prayers.

May she rejoice to see the joy she causes us; may she who gives us present joys give likewise those to come; and may she now rejoice with us, and we with her in glory. Amen.

(from Dom Prosper Guéranger, The Liturgical Year, Vol. VI: Time After Pentecost, trans. Benedictines of Stanbrook [Worcester, UK: Stanbrook Abbey, 1903], pp. 399-401)

The RC blogger, Fr Mark, points out that St Catherine was dropped from the RC calendar in 1969, but was reinstated by John Paul II after he made a pilgrimage to the famous Monastery of St Catherine at Mt Sinai, where her relics were said to have been translated by angels (see the reliquary cloth at the top). According to Fr Mark, his motives were largely ecumenistic, but one wonders if the pope might have had some personal experience of the grace of this Saint whom the Orthodox have never ceased to venerate.

As a virgin who was betrothed to Christ, St Catherine has been invoked by girls looking for husbands—mainly in France—and on her day the French honour all unmarried women over the age of twenty-five, called ‘Catherinettes’. See the cute customs associated with this day here.

Some words of Dom Guéranger, from whose book the above Victorine Sequence was taken, make a fitting conclusion, I think:

O blessed Catherine, accept us as thy disciples. In thy person, philosophy, true to its beautiful name, leads us to Eternal Wisdom, truth leads to goodness, and science to Christ who is the way, the truth, and the life (ibid., p. 402).