And Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every infirmity. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.
Matthew 9:35–36
In tears, a desperate man once cried to his spiritual father, “I was abused!”
“Then let the abuse stop now,” was the reply.
One thing that sets the Christian contemplative tradition apart from other contemplative traditions is an emphasis on repentance. Christian contemplation is more a love affair than it is a program of self-improvement or self-realization. In the contemplative effort we are not looking for extraordinary spiritual experiences, highs, hidden knowledge, or to become better people. Instead, we are involved in a process of restoring communion with one whom we have estranged, from whom we have departed. At the same time, this one remains faithful, even actively seeking us out. This is the context of repentance in the ancient tradition of Christian contemplation.
The New Testament and Septuagint Greek term translated into English as “repentance” is metanoia, literally a “change of mind” or “transformation of perspective.” A husband looks lustfully at another woman, catches himself, turns his eyes away, considers his wife and the love and life they share. This is repentance. The Christian life is full of such little acts every day. Remaining watchful is the key. Saint Peter reminds us, “Be sober, be watchful.”[1] What he doesn’t say is, “be dour, be hard.”
The Christian life is full of setbacks and mistakes. While these setbacks are in many ways magnified when one engages fully the contemplative dimensions of this life, we are reminded by our spiritual fathers and mothers not to become depressed, dour, or severe. In most cases, true repentance is not about severity. It is instead extremely gentle, extremely healing. It comes with tears not tears.
Repentance is like a swift arrow launched from the heart into the Heart. When it is sincere, it is simple, direct, and makes no show of itself. It throws itself onto the Beloved with tremendous need and sorrow. There, it begins to understand, not without shame, the Beloved’s unwavering love. This alone is the hidden wisdom. A peaceful, simple, fully human life is the extraordinary spiritual experience.
Breaking free of sinful patterns is the same as breaking free of addictions. At first, it takes some ruthlessness, brute willpower. But this struggle is not definitive of the Christian life. What defines the Christian life, what fulfills it, is a gentle, healing love.
I am an Orthodox Christian because of Orthodoxy’s unabashed emphasis on spiritual struggle. If we are to grow in the Christian life, if we are to grow closer to God—not merely in a mawkish sentimental sense but in an ontological sense, to become like him[2]—then we must struggle with our sinful patterns. We must repent of all the ways we are utterly unlike, even against, the humble, self-giving, faithful God who revealed himself to us in Jesus Christ. This gentle but outrageously steadfast love is the cause and the goal of our repentance. Repentance is not about machismo.
The truth is that we have all been abused in one way or another and to one degree or another. This is what it means to be born into a fallen world out of no choice of our own. Jesus recognized this. In the quote above, Saint Matthew makes this clear: Jesus had compassion on the multitudes “because they were harassed and helpless.”[3] Not only were the people harassed by the machinations of worldly power, by the wealthy and strong, by brokenness and disease. They were also harassed by demons, spiritually and mentally beleaguered. The path of Christian Orthodoxy, contemplation being a central facet, is the path out of this abuse. God has given us the way. At its heart is quiet, sincere, deep repentance.
At Cloud-Bearing Mountain Christian Retreat Center, we now find ourselves starting again. Having moved to the Adirondack Mountains, I have been wanting to reaffirm and restate our purpose as a Christian retreat center. No matter what the subject or occasion, all of our retreats are offered for this one objective: that a heart may, in the depths of quiet prayer, find the Heart. That the abuse may stop.
[1] 1 Peter 5:8.
[2] Matthew 5:48.
[3] Matthew 9:36.