Saturday, December 18, 2021

My soul sings hymns of praise to God.!..
Saint Sophrony the Athonite.

 

Russian icon of the Nativity of our Lord.


        All that is preposterous and frightful in the outside world, everything that is banal and tedious in daily life, resolves into a contradictory yet grandiose tableau. Both the noble and the ignoble somehow or other find their reflection in each of us. The manifold contrasts - of evil and good, ignorance and light, grief and joy, folly and wisdom, love and hatred, weak­ness and strength, construction and destruction, birth and death - all go to form the all-embracing vision of Being. The innumerable multitude of vexations and insults imposed on us degrade and put us to scorn. The soul despairs before such a spectacle. And suddenly the meaning of Christ's words, 'A MAN IS BORN INTO THE WORLD' becomes clear in their eternal significance, eternal even for God. And for this joy all previous ills and sorrows are remembered no more.

Christ's commandments are expressed in a few simple words but in a miraculous fashion when we obey them our spirit unfolds in longing to embrace 'all things which are in heaven, and which are on earth " in the love commanded of us. Surely it is inconceivable that creatures brought into being from 'nothing' could be possessed of such power? Of course, it is impossible for us, of ourselves, to contain in our heart the whole universe. But the Maker of all that exists Himself appeared in our form of being and effectively demonstrated that our nature was conceived not only with the ability to embrace the created cosmos but also to assume the plenitude of Divine life. Without Him we can do nothing, but with Him and in Him everything becomes attainable - though not without 'pain'. Pain is essential, firstly to make us realise that we are free personae (hypostases), and secondly that on the day of Judgment the Lord might give us His life for us to possess forever.

To transport ourselves in mind, whenever we suffer tribu­lation, into universal dimensions makes us like unto Christ. If we do this, everything that happens to us individually will be a revelation of what happens in the wide world. Streams of cosmic life will flow through us, and we shall be able, through personal experience to discern both man in his temporal existence and even the Son of man in His two natures. It is precisely thus, through suffering, that we grow to cosmic and meta-cosmic self-consciousness. By going through the trial of self-emptying in following Christ, cru­cifying ourselves with Him, we become receptive to the infinitely great Divine Being. In wearying penitential prayer for the whole world, we merge ourselves spiritually with all mankind: we become universal in the image of the univer­sality of Christ Himself, Who bears in Himself all that exists. Dying with Him and in Him, we here and now anticipate resurrection.

The Lord suffered for every one of us. His sufferings do indeed cover all our ills since the fall of Adam. In order to know Christ properly, it is essential that we ourselves enter into His anguish, and experience it all, if this be possible, as He Himself did. Thus, and only thus, is Christ-God made known, existentially i.e., not abstractly, through psycho­logical or theoretical faith that is not converted into deeds.


From the outset when I returned to Christ, with a little more understanding now of Who Jesus was, my heart underwent a change and my thoughts took a different direction. From my inner conflicts I spontaneously shifted to humanity at large, and found myself suffering with all mankind. The experience made me see that we must not only live the ordeals that fall to our lot within the narrow framework of our individuality but must transfer them in spirit to the universal plane - in other words, realise that the same cosmic life that flows through us flows in the veins of everyone else. Because of this apparently natural psychological impulse, I began to feel all the ills - disease, disasters, feuds, enmities, natural catastrophes, wars, and so on - that befall the human race, with increased compassion. This really quite normal compul­sion was to bring forth precious fruit for me: I learned to live the fate of all mankind as if it were happening to me personally. It is precisely this that is enjoined by the commandment, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself "- neighbour, of course, in the Christian interpretation of the word." Developing and growing stronger with the years, my cognition naturally extended to the ends of the earth, and beyond - to the Infinite. With gratitude to God I looked back on all the calamities of the First World War: the terrible disruption of the administrative life of the country; the revol­utionary battle waged the length and breadth of Russia that endangered each and everyone; the acute shortages of every­thing necessary for normal living; the alienation from all that is important and dear to the soul and mind; the agonising idiocy of everything that was happening . . . That was how I conceived of the tragedy of contemporary history. Later I fathomed its sources - in the Biblical narrative of the Fall of man.

Saint Sophrony the Athonite.

A terrible scene. And still not the end: 'Yet once more I shake not the earth only, but also heaven"

Thus I draw nearer to the great mystery of the 'image of God' in us: the Persona. He revealed Himself to us in the Name - I AM THAT I AM. Yes, we are in His image. Standing before Him in prayer, our spirit at one and the same time both glories and bewails - glories in the contemplation of realities excelling earthly imagination; bewails its nothing­ness, its complete impotence to contain the Divine gift. Thus from the very outset of our birth from on High the soul pines. To be sure, we do grow but the process seems to us a slow and painful one. It can be said that the whole of Christian life consists of the 'pain of bringing forth' for eternity.

I notice that my mind continually returns to one and the same vision, from which I cannot detach myself, to which I began to relate over half a century ago. The Lord absorbs me completely. I both see and do not see my surroundings. My eye glances around at intervals when I am busy with the unavoidable preoccupations of everyday life. But whether I am asleep or awake, God is closer to me than the air I breathe. During the past decades grace in diverse forms has streamed down on me, sometimes like a wide river, sometimes like a cascade of 'living water' on my head. On occasions - it still happens - a boundless expanse of ocean would open out before me; or like a weightless puppet I would hang sus­pended over a peculiar imaginary abyss . . . and here I lose myself: what I have written is but a rough impression in a painter's sketch-book of a majestic panorama. My soul would sing hymns of praise to God, Who with such love came to meet me, a thing of nought, but I cannot find words worthy of Him.!..

 

Reference:

On Prayer. Archimandrite Sophrony the Athonite. 1996.