“The one who renounces the passion representations [of sex, wealth, vanity, etc.] makes a monk of the inner person—the mind. Anybody can make a monk of the outer person if he really wishes to, but it is no small struggle to make a monk of the inner man” (St. Maximos the Confessor, The 400 Chapters on Love, Fourth Century, 50)
Many Orthodox Christians here in North America will live out their lives never having visited a monastery, and yet they are influenced by monastic worship and life styles without being aware of it. They keep rules of fasting two days of the week and whole periods of time four times each year. They pray in worship structures fashioned and chanted in monasteries, they attend long services that had their origin in monastic circles, and their lives are frugal, simple, humble and pious. They have monastic souls.
I hesitate to write about them because they would be embarrassed to be pointed out as special in the ways of the Lord; however, when as it happens that the intensive time of piety, prayer, fasting and inner searching, the Great Lent, ends with Pascha, I find myself reflecting on what we as Church had been through. We hadn’t gone anywhere, and yet we had been on a long, precarious, perilous journey into the interior of our souls.
The serious Orthodox Christian had planned for his or her confession, an examination of conscience that not everyone welcomes, much less enjoys. To be honest, neither do the priests who hear all those confessions: Who would choose to stand long hours listening to one person after the other recite what they’d rather suppress, justify or ignore, especially in this culture of individualists? And yet much of what we hear are revelations of struggle with Satan’s ways and wiles, plus affirmations of little victories over the old self, progress on life’s journey to the kingdom of heaven, and polishing of the soul’s mirror to let God’s image shine through. The preparation for confession is the most important part—not what one whispers to the confessor, but the process of coming to terms with one’s inner being. We can go on indefinitely ignoring, justifying, and living with what conflicts with our consciences. Never before has a civilization provided as many gadgets that draw us away from our scruples. We have electronic and chemical devices which will put us in touch with anywhere on the planet except with that nook in our hearts that whispers to us who we really are and who we ought to be.
“Many passions lie hidden in our souls,” writes St. Maximus (4:52). Just to live in these times of confusion, turmoil and ongoing reevaluation of values is to appreciate how difficult it is for any of us to hold fast to the gospel teachings of Jesus Christ and to live by them. There are those putting on all the trappings of a civilization out to scandalize traditional values—the wild hair, the tattoos, the body pierced in so many areas, the raucous syncopated noise and bizarre costumes passing for clothing—all of it demeaning, banal and all so obvious that what they intend to be shocking is but the uniform of a herd mentality for those without originality. It causes me to cherish all the more those who have the soundness of mind to resist all of that.
Precious to me are those who serve as humble role models for others, who by their life styles, attitudes, courtesies and kindness make clear their intentions to cherish their brief years on earth serving the God who creates and sustains them by doing His will in His world.