The Ascetic and the Mystic

“Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world—the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and his pride in possessions—comes not from the Father but from the world” (I John 2:15)

“I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows” (II Corinthians 12:2)

St. John is warning us to flee from the world and love nothing in the sinful world, or else we shall lose the inner presence of the heavenly Father. This is asceticism. St. Paul is referring to himself when he describes having been raised above the world to the third heaven. That is mysticism. Which are you—either, neither, or both? Most likely, a little of each.

When during Great Lent especially or on normal Wednesdays and Fridays you follow the prescribed church’s dietary discipline and do without meat or dairy products, you practice asceticism. Even when you give up something you normally crave, like ice cream or alcohol, you do a bit of the same. The Orthodox Christian ascetic takes on the challenge of sorting out things that can become passions and separates himself or herself from allowing them to take ownership of his mind and heart. Whatever enslaves you owns you; therefore, if you are serious about giving yourself to Christ, you must be free to do so. This will become a pattern of life that will bring you joy, meaning and fulfillment; but only if you cherish the goal and hold it before your eyes always. Otherwise, it is an empty exercise.

The goal includes a mystical awareness of everything in creation realized and appreciated with new eyes, such as described by St. Paul in his epistles and St. John in the book of Revelation. Put in scriptural terms, you will see with the eye of the dove, the viewpoint of the Holy Spirit. The complete ascetic is given a mystical awareness of the world as the gift of perseverance. It’s like climbing a high mountain—Diamondhead, Everest, or especially Mt. Sinai. Upon reaching the peak the instinct is not to descend immediately, but to relish the triumph and look around in all directions.

Consider the third temptation of our Lord Jesus Christ. “Again, the devil took Him to a very high mountain and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. ‘All this I will give to You,’ he said, ‘if You will bow down and worship me’” (Matthew 4:8). What world? What splendor? The world wallowing in sinfulness. A splendor that is fleeting and banal. As he did in Eden, assuming what was not his, here too Satan pretends to offer what he doesn’t own, like a real estate agent selling a house without the owner’s knowledge, or the proverbial Brooklyn Bridge.

Contrast that with the vision that Jesus Himself offers to the three apostles on the mountain of Transfiguration. There He was in charge, revealing to them the mystical insight of a universe as it ought to be minus the fall of Adam, disclosing heaven on earth, or better stated, the heaven which is everywhere and nowhere; i.e., not a geographical locale, but the state of unity with the Holy Trinity and all who are sharing that bliss. The mystical encounter is the ultimate recompense and incentive for those who eagerly conquer the passions of the flesh and the temptations of this world. This is the secret that true believing Christians are eager to share with all who care to have a part of the ultimate meaning of life.