On Peace and Repentance

I recently visited Chicago, and the trip was fantastic. Of course, the reason for the visit was a truly worthy one; a buddy was becoming Orthodox over Pentecost weekend. He took the name Silouan, whose story is one for the ages. St Silouan the Athonite lived a marvelous life in many ways, but what's most astounding to me is that three weeks after joining a monastery on Mt Athos, he was given the gift of unceasing prayer. Illumined by the light of the Holy Spirit within him, he prayed ceaselessly for the world, counting all others' sins as his own. Even still, his heart remained peaceful. I can't help but wonder how this could be the case, especially considering that the Lord Himself appeared to the Saint. The only thing that I can see being the answer to such a mind-boggling situation is that Silouan knew who the Lord was and who he was in relation to Him. I suppose this is the true nature of humility, at any rate – knowing who God is and who we are in relation to Him and His purpose. It is only the illumined heart, however, that is able to see things with such clarity.

When I consider this, I have to think of it in terms of my friend's experience of becoming Orthodox – or, at least in terms of how I perceived his experience. He was chrismated on Saturday, and it was beautiful to behold. We went through the service as usual, "The seal of the Gift of the Holy Spirit," and at the end we were encouraged to welcome him into the Holy Orthodox Church. When he turned around to give me a hug (I was standing nearby as playing his godfather), his face looked like that of an angel. In the several years that I have been friends with this man, I have never once seen him so full of joy. I could have sworn that he was going to sprout wings and go flying through the stained-glass windows at the top of the church. The joy I beheld on his face was only surpassed by what I witnessed the next day, Pentecost, as he approached the Blessed Sacrament, the Body and Blood of our Lord. As we waited in line to receive the Holy Eucharist, he began to well up with tears (what I imagine to be tears of anticipation and joy). After Communing, he stood in the corner of the church quietly and serenely crying. There was no show to it. No whimpering. Just tears (and a couple sniffles). What I saw may have just been the three years and a half without Communion finally coming to a head for him, but I believe that what my godson experienced was nothing short of Divine Illumination and a true sharing in the peace of the Lord.

The illumined heart is one that is able to look at its shortcomings without anxiety, fear, or despair. This is the crucial part, I think, to walking in love and light of Christ. Just because we can see our failings doesn't mean that we have experienced the Divine Light, rather, it just means we are highly perceptive and prone to self-loathing. The Divine Light points us toward the Sun of Righteousness whose rays and warmth are ever-inviting. We do ourselves a great disservice if we continue to dwell on our failings. Instead, we must turn our hearts, sinful and dark as they are, toward the Compassionate and Merciful God. In our minds, we often spend too much time thinking about ourselves as is, and we can even see this in much of the way we speak about salvation in the Western traditions of Christianity. Much of the time when the question, "Are you saved?" is asked, it implies that the one who needs saving has a say in the matter. We believe too much in our own capacity to answer such questions, regardless of the "Salvation is God's work" language we may be able to add to supporting theology. Rather, in the Eastern tradition, we come to understand who we are before God, and in spite of this, draw near to Him emboldened by His compassion. For this reason, the Church continually prays, "Lord, have mercy." We are basically asking God to be Himself, and to recognize us amidst that.

When we understand who God truly is – the Compassionate One who became like unto us, taking on our fallen nature, submitting to death, and rising again on the Third Day – we have no questions about whether God will receive us in love. When we fail to understand who God is or who we are, relationship with the Divine ceases to be a possibility. Much the problem is that we consistently fail to see clearly on either side of the situation. Here repentance, a change of mind, is of the utmost importance. When I look at the majority of my life so far, I realize that most of the time has been spent letting my own wants and perceived needs dictate the course of my actions. I have put my own self in charge in a feeble attempt to sit on God's Sovereign Throne. Life in Christ is a complete reversal of this. It puts God back in His Throne, and keeps me as a servant of God on earth. Indeed, it is a life that embraces humility – earthiness. We can think wrongly about humility if we consider it as mere lowliness. Yes, it is lowliness, but not in the sense of its relation to how bad we are, but in the sense of it being exactly what we are in the light of Christ. In Genesis, God fashions man from the dust of the earth and breathes life into him. Subsequently, woman is fashioned from man's rib. In this, we can understand that for man to embrace a humble life is an attempt for man to embrace who he really is – fashioned by God from the lowly dirt. Moreover, we see that man and woman are a part of each other. One is not exalted above the other, but they are truly flesh of each other's flesh. We cannot for one second in our life in Christ think that we stand alone as judge and overseer of our lives. Even speaking of "my life" as mine is a disservice to myself. My life is God's. It's sort of like how parents say, "I brought you into this world, I can take you out of it." This reflects a great deal of truth – my life is a gift of God that must be resubmitted to Him for His glory. This gift of my life also belongs to my neighbor. To embrace humility – recognizing who God is (the Creator) and recognizing who I am in relation to Him (His beloved creature) – leads directly to the path of peace, because actively embracing humility is truly an act of repentance.

By God's grace we continue to understand who He is and who we are in His love. If we try to walk away from the truth of the nature of this relationship, we walk directly into a life of anxiety and discord. Only a life filled with the Holy Spirit is able to stand before God in true humility, and pray for others' sins as though they were one's own. Though this manner of life is not always sustainable, it is at least worth praying that the God who created the world and breathed life into man will make Himself known to us. When this happens, the light of God, if only for a moment, shows us who we are, and we are able to repent and walk briefly in peace.