I often hear it claimed that the teachings of Eastern religions are similar to the Orthodox ascetic tradition and the teachings of the Church Fathers. This is said by people who have no spiritual experience and read the Gospel superficially. On the surface, you can probably find some similarities, but anyone who has even a shred of spiritual experience realizes that these two things are not only not similar, but have nothing in common.
One day, a young man came to Mt. Athos, a connoisseur of Hindu philosophy, who had some experience in this field. He met Elder Paisios on Athos, after which he converted to Christianity and entered the bosom of the Orthodox Church. I asked him once:
“Nikos, you spent so many years in Hinduism, but now you’re a Christian, you come to the Holy Mountain, and you read the words of the Holy Fathers. What conclusion did you come to about the difference between the two?”
“In my opinion, one of the main differences is that only Christianity has the uncreated grace of God, which has nothing in common with the things of this world and which can’t be compared to anything human,” he said.
That’s why the Holy Fathers say that the Divine is comprehended by silence. At the Liturgy of St. Basil the Great on Holy Saturday we sing: “Let all mortal flesh keep silence,” that is, let us be silent and stand before God in utter silence, but we’re unable to express God and the things of God.
So, the Gospel, which is solemnly carried into the altar during the Liturgy, is the printed word of God, which guides us and serves as the criterion of our life. The wisdom of the Gospel is inexpressible and indescribable in its depth, although some wise man of this world might consider it nonsense. As the Apostle Paul says, the Gospel appears to be madness to worldly logic (1 Cor. 1:23). After all, the Gospel commands something that seems foolish, meaningless, and unreasonable to worldly logic.
For example, the Gospel commands that when someone compels you to walk a mile with him, go two; when someone asks you for five things, give ten; when they slap you on the cheek, give him the other to be slapped (cf. Mt. 5:39–41). Not only should you not hit back, and not only should you forgive him, but you should love your enemy who wants to destroy you, to tear you to pieces. That’s why Christ prayed to God the Father, saying: I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, that Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes (Lk. 10:21).
It often happens that the “wise and prudent” of this world, those who defend doctoral dissertations, have titles, academic degrees and the like, don’t comprehend the Gospel truth. This truth is revealed to “babes”—to simple and humble people, the poor in spirit, who don’t think highly of themselves, who feel more comfortable in the last place, who don’t want anyone to know about them, who are convinced of their own unworthiness. These people have such purity in their souls, such childlike kindness and guilelessness, that God reveals His mysteries to them.
There are such souls in every generation, who adorn the Church. Both among monastics and laymen, you can meet souls filled with the grace of God, abiding in the closest unity with God. They’re such simple and guileless souls that even though they’re filled with the grace of God, it never occurs to them to think that they’re something special. These Gospel “little ones” experience their state of grace as something simple and natural.
And conversely, you often see people who are very smart, educated, well-read, and powerful from a worldly point of view, but who are unable to comprehend the alphabet of the Gospel.
Recently we witnessed the fall of the rulers of Libya and Iraq. Once all-powerful and almighty, owners of palaces, they perished: some in prison, some in other ways... In the end, that’s the way of the world. The world is a theater where performances play out. Whoever wants to take part in its productions gets a certain role. But as soon as that performance comes to an end, it’s all over.
There are, however, people who despised the lies of this theater, who loved the truth of the Gospel and wanted to live their lives in accordance with it, in true wisdom, in the light of God. This doesn’t mean you have to become a monk or live with a family in some squalid hut far from the world. You can be an emperor, a tsar, a president, whatever, and still live in the light of the Gospel. We know many holy emperors and kings, who lived in palaces, and yet the Lord found repose in their hearts. These people acquired even greater grace, because although they had all the good things of this world, they nevertheless didn’t make concessions to their passions, they weren’t attached to the world. They made use of the world instead of letting it use them.
So, the logic of the Gospel is fundamentally different from the logic of the world. Christ came into the world to change our way of thinking. That’s why we have so many difficulties: We have to renounce ourselves and our logic for the sake of the logic of the Gospel. And this requires us to show wisdom. A wise man knows how to turn all the tricks of the theater of this world to his advantage. If we understand this and can do it, we’ll come out victorious. If we don’t understand it and start fighting with circumstances and facts, with people (this one’s to blame, that one’s to blame), we waste time and energy. It’s great wisdom not to be deceived by the visible circumstances of the world, but rather, no matter how painful they may be, no matter how catastrophic they may seem, to be able to use them rightly with peace of soul and trust in God, keeping our eyes on the eternal Kingdom of God.
That’s how all the saints lived. This world was conquered by those who didn’t let it deceive them. Worldly things didn’t mislead them. They didn’t cling to the praises of the world, didn’t pay heed to its insults, but were indifferent to both. When people praised and glorified them, they stayed watchful over themselves and didn’t grow proud. And when the hour of trial arrived, when they were humiliated, beaten, thrown into prison, when those around them shouted: “Crucify them!” they maintained their spiritual peace, accepting everything with evangelical meekness and patience, looking to the Lord Christ.
That’s what we’re looking for: How can we find God in our hearts; how can we find Christ in all circumstances of life? That’s why the Apostle Paul says not to waste your time and energy fighting with circumstances. Are you a slave? Remain a slave (cf. 1 Cor. 7:20–22). Don’t fight for your release; don’t waste your strength on it. It doesn’t matter if you’re a slave or freeman, poor or rich, famous or unknown. What matters is that you find Christ in your heart. If you have Christ, then even if you don’t have anything else, you feel a fullness, joy, like you’re not lacking in anything. Everything in this world passes away. Don’t worry about anything. Let not your heart be troubled, says the Lord, neither let it be afraid… Ye believe in God, believe also in Me (Jn. 14:27, 1). Having trust in God, you’re united by love with Christ. And when you’re united with Christ, then no matter what happens around you, your soul won’t suffer any harm.
“Nothing can harm John,” said St. John Chrysostom. Moved by zeal for God, the Holy Hierarch fearlessly rebuked the empress for her lawless deeds. The empress planned to exile him, making him walk from Constantinople to Armenia. But he was warned: “Vladyka, the empress wants to send you into exile. She dreams of deposing you. She wants you dead.” St. John responded: “Don’t worry. No one can harm John save John himself.” That is, if I want to harm myself, I’ll give myself over to sin and forgetfulness of God; but external things like exile, imprisonment, and confiscation of property mean nothing to me.
We have to learn, figuratively speaking, to rise above the clouds. When a plane rises above the clouds, it enters a field of sunlight, where everything is so beautiful it seems as if an angel might peek out from somewhere, like in a children’s fairytale. While below, under the clouds, it’s raining or snowing, lightning is flashing, everything is full of darkness, fog, and haze. Above the clouds there’s peace, silence, no bad weather. It’s the same with us: When you look at Christ, you’re above everything. Let what happens down below happen—none of it can affect you.
This happened to the saints: They weren’t controlled by the circumstances of life; rather, they themselves used these circumstances to draw near to God. Having acquired Gospel wisdom, they weren’t deceived by the things of this world.
To be continued…
