St. Isaac writes with the clarity of one who has walked through the fire of trial and found the peace that follows surrender. His words do not flatter the soul or soften the edges of the truth. They are meant to awaken us to the living reality of divine love. He shows that what we call faith must be tested, and what we call trust must be purified, until both rest entirely in God. He begins with the martyrs who endured every torment that flesh can bear. They suffered, he says, through a “secret strength” that came from God. Their pain did not prove divine absence but revealed divine nearness. The angels themselves appeared to them, not as symbols but as real presences sent to encourage and to shame the cruelty of their persecutors. The endurance of the martyrs becomes the measure of faith. Where human nature reaches its limit, divine power begins to act. Their calm in suffering, their peace under torture, proclaim that the providence of God surrounds those who love Him even when the world rages. St. Isaac then turns to the ascetics and hermits who made the desert a dwelling place of angels. These men and women renounced the world not in bitterness but in longing. They exchanged earthly things for heavenly communion. The angels, seeing in them kindred souls, visited them continually. They taught them, guided them, strengthened them when hunger or sickness overcame their bodies. They brought them bread, healed their wounds, foretold their deaths. The desert became a city where heaven and earth met in silence. For those who abandoned the noise of the world, the unseen world became near and familiar. This leads St. Isaac to the heart of his teaching. If we truly believe that God provides for us, why do we remain anxious? Anxiety is born of unbelief. To trust in ourselves is to live in misery, but to cast our care upon the Lord is to enter into peace. The one who has surrendered everything to God walks through life with a restful mind. He is not careless but free. His rest is not laziness but confidence born of faith. Isaac describes the path to this inner freedom. The soul must learn non-possessiveness, for without it the mind is filled with turmoil. She must learn stillness of the senses, for without stillness there is no peace of heart. She must endure temptations, for without them there is no wisdom. She must read and meditate, for without this she gains no refinement of thought. She must experience the protection of God in struggle, for without that experience she cannot hope in Him with boldness. Only when she has tasted the sufferings of Christ consciously can she have communion with Him. Finally, Isaac defines the true servant of God as one who has become poor for His sake and compassionate toward all. Such a person mortifies even natural desires so that nothing distracts from love. To give to the poor is to entrust one’s life to God’s care. To become poor for His sake is to discover inexhaustible treasure. Here St. Isaac’s realism becomes luminous. He is not describing a harsh ideal but the hidden logic of divine love. God draws near to those who entrust themselves wholly to Him. Angels surround those who choose the path of surrender. The heart that abandons anxiety finds itself upheld by grace. This is the holy folly of trust. It is the wisdom of those who live as though God alone is enough and who discover in that surrender a peace that cannot be taken away. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:04:28 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 158 paragraph 12 00:07:21 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:08:29 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 158 paragraph 12 00:09:17 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: http://Philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:12:11 Janine: Congrats and best wishes! REN and Max 00:13:46 Janine: Yes… would love to see the pictures! 00:13:53 Thomas: This may be a strange questions, but Is Natalia Tapsak (formally Wohar) sound familiar 00:14:30 Thomas: She was my Sunday school teacher and changed at my

The stories from the Evergetinos draw us into a vision of holiness that reaches far beyond passive endurance. The saints do not simply bear injustice with patience; they transform it by the power of divine love. Their silence is not weakness, nor their gentleness naivety. It is the strength of souls utterly freed from the tyranny of self, who see in those who wrong them not enemies but brothers blinded by ignorance or fear. Saint Libertinus, robbed and humiliated, offers even the whip that might strike the animal taken from him. His response reveals the freedom of one who has already renounced everything. Possession and loss have become meaningless to him in the light of Christ. His forbearance becomes the instrument through which God corrects the offenders, not by wrath but by wonder. The earth itself bears witness, as the frightened horses refuse to cross the river until restitution is made. The entire creation responds to the humility of a righteous man. Saint Marcian allows himself to be defrauded repeatedly, not because he is unaware, but because his heart sees deeper than the transaction. The fraud of the banker becomes a moment of salvation. The silent goodness of the saint pierces the conscience of the wrongdoer far more deeply than accusation could have done. His hidden act of mercy becomes a living sermon, spoken not with words but with grace. When the banker’s eyes are opened, the saint’s only concern is to avoid vainglory, not to claim vindication. He would rather lose money than lose humility. Saint Spyridon, guileless and compassionate, meets deceit and theft not with censure but with patient truth. His words to the dishonest buyer, “Perhaps you forgot to pay for it,” reveal the tenderness of one who seeks not to shame but to heal. Even to thieves caught in the act, he offers kindness, releasing them from invisible bonds and sending them away with a gift. He teaches by generosity, not severity. The thief’s heart is not crushed but awakened. These lives reveal that true correction flows not from moral superiority but from love purified by humility. The saints’ compassion does not end with forgiveness; it embraces those who harm them, holding them within the prayer of mercy. They see the image of God even in the one who steals or lies. They refuse to reduce a sinner to his sin. For us, these examples uncover how easily we mistake indignation for righteousness. We defend ourselves with words, cling to our sense of justice, and separate ourselves from those whose actions wound us. The Fathers remind us that this self-defense closes the heart. The saint’s freedom lies in entrusting all judgment to God. To suffer wrong with love is not resignation but participation in the meekness of Christ. It is the hidden victory of grace over pride. The Evergetinos teaches that one good deed done in silence can awaken repentance more surely than a thousand admonitions. The holy do not impose virtue; they unveil it through gentleness. They correct not by exposing others’ shame but by bearing their wrongs with dignity. Such love, born of prayer, makes the conscience tremble and the heart turn toward the light. May we learn from them the art of divine tenderness.May we bear injury without bitterness,speak truth without anger,and hold every soul, even the one who wrongs us,in the compassion of Christ who forgave from the Cross. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:08:19 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:09:09 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 297 00:13:16 Sheila Applegate: It was the most perfect homily! 00:14:26 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 297, A 00:25:34 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 298, B 00:34:37 Fr Martin, AZ 480-292-3381: These passages seems authentic and fruitful. The common practice I encounter in our culture of defending one's rights seems to disturb people's way of being and thinking, maybe even making their thinking obtuse in regard to their theosis or healing. I have difficulty in knowing how to gently communic

In this section of Homily Five, St. Isaac draws deeply from the ancient well of ascetical wisdom, weaving together the practical counsel of St. Ephraim with his own luminous vision of divine providence. His teaching moves with precision from the diagnosis of sin to the healing of the soul, from the vigilance of self-knowledge to the vision of God’s mercy revealed through trial. St. Ephraim’s words set the tone: every spiritual illness must be treated by its proper remedy. One cannot overcome a vice through random struggle or general good intentions, but only by applying a medicine suited to the disease. Just as heat is not fought with more heat, so envy, pride, and wrath are not healed through self-will or argument, but through the contrary virtues: humility, patience, and mercy. For St. Isaac, this is the beginning of ascetic discernment. The wise man learns to recognize the first stirrings of passion, and “plucks it up while it is still small,” knowing that what begins as a passing thought can quickly become a tyrant ruling the soul. Negligence is the mother of bondage. From this root teaching springs one of St. Isaac’s central themes: the blessedness of patient endurance. The one who can suffer wrong with joy, though he has the means to defend himself, has entered into the mystery of the Cross. To bear insult without resentment, to be accused unjustly and respond with humility—these, he says, are the highest forms of virtue, admired even by the angels. Such endurance is not weakness but divine strength, the quiet radiance of faith proven by trial. Here we find the echo of the Beatitudes and of the Apostle’s words, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” St. Isaac then warns against a subtler danger: self-confidence. “Do not believe yourself to be strong until you are tempted and find yourself superior to change.” Virtue untested is unproven. To imagine oneself firm before temptation is to invite a fall, for pride blinds the soul to its own frailty. True strength is born only from humility, the knowledge of one’s dependence upon God. Likewise, knowledge itself can become a snare when it is not rooted in meekness. A “meek tongue” and “sweet lips” reveal a heart governed by peace rather than pride. Those who do not boast of their struggles or their gifts are preserved from shame, while those who glory in their works are permitted to stumble, that humility may be learned through experience. The culmination of this passage is the vision of divine providence, which St. Isaac presents not as an abstract doctrine but as an experience granted to the purified heart. God’s care, he says, surrounds all, yet it is seen only by those who have cleansed themselves of sin and fixed their gaze upon Him. In times of trial, when the soul stands for the truth, this providence becomes radiant and tangible—as though seen with bodily eyes. God reveals Himself most clearly in suffering, granting His servants courage and consolation. As He strengthened Jacob, Joshua, the Three Youths, and Peter, so too He anoints all who endure affliction for His sake. In these paragraphs, St. Isaac sketches the entire map of the ascetical path. The soul begins with vigilance, pulling up the roots of passion before they grow. It advances through endurance, learning the joy hidden in unjust suffering. It is tested in humility, discovering that self-reliance is the greatest enemy. And finally, it arrives at the vision of providence, seeing that all things—even trials and delays—are instruments of divine love. The warfare is inward, but the victory is divine. The heart that ceases to rely on itself learns to rest in God, and the eyes once blinded by passion come to behold His mercy shining through every storm. This is the medicine of the soul and the peace of those who have learned the wisdom of the Cross. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:01:25 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: www.philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:02:00 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 156, last line on page, #

This section of The Evergetinos is among the most luminous and convicting in its entire corpus. It speaks with the voice of a Father who has entered deeply into the mind of Christ; where justice is transfigured by mercy, where the love of neighbor becomes inseparable from the love of God, and where even material loss becomes a gate to eternal life. The Elder’s teaching exposes the great inversion of values that defines our time. In an age obsessed with self-preservation, power, and vengeance, the Christian is called not simply to resist these tendencies, but to live from an entirely different center. His measure of life is no longer self-interest or fear, but the eternal horizon of the Kingdom. The Elder begins with a piercing truth: God’s commandments are light. It is only our attachment to self-will that makes them seem heavy. In modern terms, we could say that the weight we feel in forgiving enemies, in relinquishing possessions, or in enduring wrongs, comes not from the Gospel itself, but from our clinging to the illusion of control and possession. The commandment of Christ is light because it is love; and love is only heavy to one still bound by pride. The parable of the gem-engraver is a mirror for us. The man, faced with imminent danger, discards all his treasure to preserve a fleeting life. We, knowing the eternal stakes, cannot part with even trifles to save our souls. The Elder’s irony cuts deeply: a worldly merchant becomes a philosopher in action, while we who claim the Kingdom behave as fools. Has the Christian fallen below the moral and spiritual clarity of the pagans who could endure insult or misfortune with composure? The Elder’s words imply as much, for true wisdom is to value what endures, and to let go of all that perishes. We live amid a civilization that sanctifies vengeance, calls anger justice, and worships material gain. The Christian, if he is truly of Christ, stands as a contradiction to this world. His meekness will appear as weakness; his patience as passivity. Yet the Elder shows that it is precisely this self-emptying love that manifests divine power. To endure injury without resentment is to share in the Cross. To pray for the one who wrongs us is to participate in the compassion of the Crucified. The image of the Body, so carefully developed by the Elder, destroys the illusion of separateness that fuels violence. To harm my brother is to wound Christ Himself; to harbor anger is to cut myself off from the Body’s life. The Christian is thus called to a supernatural realism: to perceive the unity of all in Christ and to respond to injury with the same tenderness one shows a diseased limb of one’s own body. One does not amputate a member in anger; one tends it with healing concern. So must we treat the sinner who has harmed us. In the closing examples, the Elder incarnates this teaching. The monk who relinquishes his books rather than quarrel over them, the ascetic who frees the brigands who attacked him — these are not tales of naiveté but of divine wisdom. They show that peace of heart and fidelity to Christ outweigh any claim to justice or property. The true betrayal, as Abba Poimen tells the frightened hermit, is not the crime of the brigands but the monk’s own fear and loss of faith. The victory of Christ is not in punishing evil but in overcoming fear through love. St. Ephraim’s brief counsel at the end grounds this lofty teaching in ordinary charity. Justice begins in the smallest acts; in returning what is borrowed, in honesty, in remembering that we “owe no man anything, but to love one another.” The ascetical heroism of forgiveness begins with these humble fidelities. In an age of terror, noise, and material excess, the distinctive mark of the Christian is not moral superiority or rhetorical witness, but peace that disarms the world. The Evergetinos reminds us that the Gospel’s revolution lies in meekness; in the refusal to let hatred dictate our actions or possessions define

St. Isaac speaks with a stark honesty that strips away every illusion about the spiritual life. To choose the good is to summon the battle. Every true beginning draws the adversary’s attention. God allows this not to crush the soul but to test its resolve and to purify its love. Without that fire, virtue remains unproven and fragile. The one who doubts that God is his helper collapses under his own shadow. Fear itself becomes the enemy. Such a person starves amid plenty and drowns in calm waters, undone not by external trials but by the absence of trust. St. Isaac’s words expose this inner poverty: faith without endurance is only sentiment. The steadfast heart, confident in God, is revealed in trial and shines before friend and foe alike. The commandments are not burdens but treasures. They conceal the presence of the Lord Himself. The one who carries them within finds God as chamberlain, waking and sleeping. Fear of sin becomes illumination, and even darkness turns transparent. The soul that trembles at evil walks with light before and within, guided by mercy that steadies every faltering step. St. Isaac ends with a fierce precision. There is no substitution in repentance. What is lost must be restored by the same means through which it was forfeited. God will not take a pearl for a penny, nor alms in place of purity. Greed is uprooted only by mercy, not by any other virtue. He will not be deceived by offerings that leave corruption untouched. This is the hard edge of Isaac’s wisdom: grace demands truth. The path to God is not through sentiment or display but through the narrow way where every false comfort is stripped away, and only the tested heart endures. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:05:26 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Homily 5 paragraph 4 page 155 00:05:41 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:07:39 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Homily 5 paragraph 4 page 155 00:13:14 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 155, last paragraph, 4 00:14:30 Una: Nice! 00:17:20 Una: I like the way Anthony puts it: be prepared to be knocked around 00:17:20 Una: I like the way Anthony puts it: be prepared to be knocked around 00:17:33 Anthony: Reacted to I like the way Antho... with "❤️" 00:17:47 Anthony: Replying to "I like the way Antho..."   Thanks :) 00:25:07 Rick Visser: My despondency becomes so great that I cannot move. What am I to do? 00:25:38 Maureen Cunningham: how would you explain the difference between Grace  & Mercy. 00:26:27 Maureen Cunningham: When I have despondency . I put on Bach 00:29:24 Jessica McHale: There is a very short but tremendously helpful book called "Trustful surrender to divine providence: the secret of peace and happiness" (it's so short more like a pamphlet) but it helps so greatly with despondency. I read it every time I feel this struggle with trusting in God in every single tiny thing. 00:30:34 Barbara: The Church/grace is the spiritual hospital. 00:32:19 Anthony: It might be that our passion is the pride of scrupulosity that is revealed by falling to another passion and masked by that passion (a red herring). 00:33:48 Eleana: St. Claude La Colombière, Fr. Jean Baptiste Saint-Jure 00:34:00 Jessica McHale: yes, by Father Jean Baptiste Saint-Jure (the author of the book I mentioned) 00:35:52 Anthony: This is a remedy for the terror of mortal sin. 00:40:23 Ryan Ngeve: Father to what degree is engaging in thoughts that lead to despondency harmful to someone. And if it is how are we supposed to avoid engaging in such thoughts 00:45:55 David Swiderski, WI: I find this prayer helpful in challenging times. At one point in my life I felt great despondency having lost everything I had, living in a country I did not want to live in and largely being alone barely surviving. After a time I realized I only had belief and needed to work on actual faith. 00:46:41 Jessica McHale: Reacted to "Mobile-Litany-of-T..." with ❤️ 00:47:10 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 156, first paragraph, #5 00:50:31 Jessica McHale: Psalm 119 --

The teaching of the Fathers on vengeance and anger does not allow us to linger in the comfortable ambiguities of human justice. It tears at the fabric of self-justification. Their words bring us face to face with the scandal of divine love—the Cross as the only standard by which we are to measure our dealings with others. The heart that desires retribution, or even to “set things right,” cannot bear the full light of that Cross without trembling. St. Diadochus unmasks the subtle ways we clothe self-interest in piety. We say we fear becoming “a cause of sin” for those who wrong us, but in truth we simply wish to protect our possessions, our security, our image of control. Once we let go of blessing and guarding the heart, we begin to move toward the vestibules of the law courts; our concern for righteousness becomes indistinguishable from the world’s hunger for vindication. To stand before such courts is already to have abandoned the tribunal of mercy. The law of God cannot be kept by means of the laws of men, because mercy does not seek the restoration of things but of persons. The one who endures injustice praying for his oppressor becomes an image of the Crucified, who desired not the return of what was taken from Him but the return of those who took it. Abba Isaac pushes the wound even deeper: to fight over what gives comfort after renouncing the world is blindness. The one for whom the world has died accepts insults with joy, not because they are pleasant, but because they reveal how little of the old self remains to defend. It is not the act of being wronged that kills the soul, but the refusal to see in it a call to die before death. Only those who have lost every hope of worldly consolation can bear this pain without resentment. Such poverty of spirit is rare, but in it the mind shines with tranquil radiance. The Gerontikon illustrates the same wisdom through living examples. Blessed Zosimas warns the generous Dionysia that zeal to avenge an insult can destroy every virtue she possesses. Her almsgiving, though abundant, is nothing if it is not shaped by meekness. To lose composure over a trifling thing is to become a slave of that thing; even a needle or a book can master the heart that has not been freed. The true servant of God has one Master alone. All these sayings converge on the Cross. There, vengeance dies and love is revealed in its purest form. Christ prays for His murderers, not from sentiment but from truth; He alone sees that their real torment is not what they do to Him, but what they do to themselves. The disciple who bears wrongs without retaliation participates in this same divine sight. He no longer divides the world into victims and oppressors, but into the healed and the unhealed. To forgive is to choose the side of healing. To live by this ethos is to live cruciformly. It is to judge nothing and no one, to accept every wound as a summons to prayer, and to see in every thief a brother whose salvation God has entrusted to our mercy. The Cross does not destroy reason; it stretches it until it becomes translucent with grace. In that light, vengeance appears not only impossible but absurd. Only love remains—terrible, meek, and eternal. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:02:23 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:10:43 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 289 Hypothesis XXXVII 00:11:44 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:14:16 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://philokaliaministries.blogspot.com 00:18:17 Anthony: THEY SHOULD TEACH THIS IN LAW SCHOOL. 00:18:40 Myles Davidson: Reacted to "THEY SHOULD TEACH TH..." with 😁00:26:43 Rick Visser: So there a positive way of stopping others in order to reduce their sin and move toward repentence. 00:27:55 Anthony: Orthodox canon law, such as it is, is a collection called The Rudder, so I'm told. 00:28:47 Rick Visser: So there is a positive way of stopping others in order to reduce their sin and move toward repe

St. Isaac’s words reveal that communion with God requires remoteness from distraction and a renunciation of whatever disquiets the heart. This is not something reserved for monks alone, though they live it most radically, but it is a law of the Christian life as a whole. For Isaac, the fruits of renunciation are not abstract but very real: tears, compunction, a fountain of sweetness welling up from the heart, light dawning within. These are given not to the distracted soul but to the one who bows like a convict before the Cross, empty-handed and intent upon nothing else. Renunciation is not simply turning away from sin but from every movement that agitates the mind. He calls it a kind of death, both of the outer man in worldly deeds and occupations, and of the inner man in thoughts, passions, and self-will. It is this dying that makes room for the Spirit to raise one into true life. For the monk, this call is lived in visible and total form: silence, enclosure, vigils, fasting, the cutting away of unnecessary speech and activity. Leaving behind the noise of the world, the monk learns to dwell continually before God. For them Isaac’s words are direct and literal, for one cannot hold onto worldly cares and at the same time enter into the madness of divine love. Stillness is the path by which grace rushes into the heart. For those living in the world, this teaching does not mean the rejection of responsibilities, but rather the careful discernment of what is indispensable and what is merely disquieting. Isaac himself acknowledges that not all can practice stillness in its fullness, but warns that one should not abandon the path altogether. Instead, there are ways of living the same spirit in daily life: simplicity, which renounces excess possessions, amusements, and chatter that scatter the heart; sobriety of senses, which guards against overindulgence and constant stimulation; interior watchfulness, which makes room for compunction and prayer in the ordinary rhythms of the day; trust in God’s providence, which loosens the grip of anxiety over outcomes. For the layperson, renunciation looks like choosing silence over noise, prayer over distraction, mercy over greed, humility over self-exaltation. In these small dyings the heart is opened to the same fountain of sweetness, even if not in the same intensity as in the solitary monk. Isaac reminds us that whoever does not voluntarily withdraw from the causes of the passions will be carried away by them in the end. Whether monk or layperson, if the heart is constantly fed on the world’s noise, possessions, and anxieties, it will inevitably be drawn off course. But if one begins to renounce even in small ways, the Spirit quickly comes to give aid, comforting the soul and granting grace. The lesson is clear: every Christian is called to some measure of renunciation, not as loss, but as the doorway to joy and divine consolation. The monk may live it to the depths, but each person in Christ is summoned to taste it in their own measure. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:14:30 jonathan: started trying practising paustinia every Wednesday and Friday. Its been far harder trying to abstain from all forms of entertainment than it is from food. Like fr said, the noon day demon feels heavy.00:16:55 Catherine Opie: Ave Maria> What page are we on? 00:17:10 Myles Davidson: Replying to "Ave Maria> What page..." P. 152, last full paragraph on page 00:18:27 Catherine Opie: Reacted to "P. 152, last full pa..." with 🙏🏻 00:31:13 Janine: Rick. Thank you for that! 00:31:22 carolnypaver: Reacted to "Rick. Thank you for ..." with ❤️ 00:31:23 Myles Davidson: Reacted to "Rick. Thank you for ..." with 🙏 00:31:37 paul g.: I believe that.  Thank you Rick! 00:32:10 carolnypaver: Love that perspective, Rick.  Thank you for sharing! 00:32:14 Rick Visser: I go to bed early--7-8 pm. I make way for it. 00:32:21 Bob Čihák, AZ: Reacted to "Rick. Thank you for ..." with 🙏 00:33:19 Rick Visser: It is t

Abba Mark’s teaching pierces the heart because it strips away our worldly sense of “justice” and places us before the wisdom of the Cross. The lawyer’s questions are not unlike our own: What do we do when wronged? What about fairness? What about the law? But the Elder directs him beyond human reasoning toward the spiritual law of Christ. For the world, the offense is external, and the “solution” is measured by punishment and recompense. For the ascetic, the wound of injustice exposes what is hidden in the heart. If resentment rises, then the wrong is ours as much as the other’s. To forgive is not indulgence or naiveté—it is participation in the very judgment of God, who alone knows how to weigh every soul. Vengeance, on the other hand, is a kind of blasphemy: it accuses God of judging wrongly, and so it becomes a heavier sin than the original injury. Here the Evergetinos reveals the paradox of the Gospel: to suffer wrong with gratitude is not weakness but true knowledge. To pray for those who wrong us confounds the demons and makes us sons of the Crucified. The magistrate may punish, but the monk endures; the court may balance debts, but love “endures all things.” The Elder’s words burn away excuses. To forgive is not optional—it is the very condition of our own forgiveness. To harbor vengeance is to live in fantasy, enslaved to illusions of fairness. But to embrace affliction as one’s own and to entrust judgment to God is to step into the reality of mercy, where the only true justice is love. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:06:42 Adam Paige: Philokalia combined volume 1 to 5 by Nun Christina is indeed 825 pages long 00:06:54 Anna: I'm looking for The Philokalia St. Peter of Damascus 00:07:57 Bob Čihák, AZ: One of our current books is “The Ascetical Homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian, revised 2nd Edition” 2011, published by Holy Transfiguration Monastery, https://www.bostonmonks.com/product_info.php/products_id/635 . This hard-covered book is on the expensive side but of very high quality. 00:09:53 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 287, D 00:17:59 jonathan: st nick 00:18:02 Adam Paige: Jolly ol St Nick 00:18:30 Una: Santa Clause! 00:25:56 Nina and Sparky: It is a hard teaching, but it matches 1 Cor 6:7 Now indeed [then] it is, in any case, a failure on your part that you have lawsuits against one another. Why not rather put up with injustice? Why not rather let yourselves be cheated? 00:26:19 Nina and Sparky: Sorry, It is Forrest! 00:31:35 Rick Visser: Should we not protest injustice? 00:37:44 Anthony: The decision of the Opus Dei Priest in the movie There Be Dragons has been one of my examples 00:38:21 Maureen Cunningham: What happens if you do not like them . How can you love them ?? 00:41:08 Bob Čihák, AZ: Yet Christ threw over the tables of the money changers in the Temple, and maybe did even more? 00:43:35 Maureen Cunningham: Nelson Mandela  when went prisons. They were so hateful 00:44:57 Catherine Opie: I used to be an avid protestor and activist until one day at an anti nuclear protest outside the French Embassy in London I realised I was getting angry with people and pointing the finger at others when I lacked a great deal myself and am far from perfect. So who am I to rage at others?  After my conversion to Catholicism I have realised its not up to me, I certainly am not to participate in evil or condone it and can stand firm in my principles and do positive things to help others. But that it is simply necessary to pray for those who commit evil and injustice to others just as I would pray for those suffering injustice. I find I am less angry and wound up when I know I can offer these things up to God and that its way above my job description to save the world. Activism is such a distraction. And we can be manipulated by the agendas of man through our emotions. 00:46:10 Rick Visser: Simone Weil said: "The greatest and most efficacious vehicle for social and political change is sacrificial love." 00:46:22 Catherine

The Gospel Without Varnish The Desert Fathers present the Gospel in its rawest form. Their words strike the heart not because they soften Christ’s commands but because they echo them without compromise: do not resist the one who is evil, forgive seventy times seven, love your enemies, bless those who curse you. To modern ears, this sounds offensive—even impossible. How can one not seek justice, especially when faced with cruelty, violence, or grave injustice? Yet the Fathers insist: freedom in Christ means clinging to nothing but His love as the one thing necessary. When we are wronged, our sorrow should not be for what has been taken from us, but for the soul of the one who has inflicted harm. Their sin is their true wound. Our calling is not to avenge but to forgive, not to condemn but to pray. Hypothesis XXXVII presses this home with piercing clarity. A struggler carrying a corpse is told: “Bear the living instead.” To shoulder the weakness of our neighbor, to endure his sins and insults, is the harder burden—but also the one that unites us to Christ. The examples unfold like a mirror before us. The elder who restrains himself when boys blaspheme outside his cell reminds his heart: If I cannot bear this small vexation, how will I endure a greater trial? Another, who endures the disobedience of his companion without protest, embraces a hidden martyrdom. Still another teaches: To put up with your neighbor in a difficult moment is equal to the martyrdom of the Three Youths in the furnace. The lesson is relentless: daily forbearance is our Golgotha. To return angry words, to demand repayment, to run to courts for vindication—these reveal hearts still bound to the world. But to endure injustice with patience, to forgive without condition, to pray for those who wrong us—this is to share in Christ’s meekness on the Cross. Abba Isaiah pierces deeper: how can we beg God’s mercy for our sins while refusing mercy to our neighbor? To repay evil for evil is to declare, in effect, that God does not judge rightly. The Fathers show us how far we fall short: Christ bore poverty, betrayal, insult, and death without retaliation—yet we cannot endure even a word of offense without bitterness. Modern sensibilities stumble here. We demand rights, recompense, recognition. But the Fathers summon us to something purer and more terrifyingly beautiful: to love as Christ loves, even when it crucifies us. When wronged, our grief must be for our brother’s soul, not our own loss. His sin wounds him unto death; our response must be prayer for his healing. This is no easy path. It is a crucifixion of the will, a death to self. It cannot be done without grace. Yet in enduring wrong with gentleness, in forgiving when wounded, in praying for those who hurt us, we enter the very marrow of the Gospel. The Desert Fathers offer no compromise. The way of Christ is the way of the Cross. To bear wrongs patiently is to drink His chalice. To forgive without measure is to wear His likeness. And to weep not for what we have lost but for the one who has harmed us—this is the freedom of those who live only in His love. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:15:19 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 284 number five: forbearing those who offend us and not taking vengeance 00:15:29 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 284, 5 00:21:21 Rick Visser: Has this any bearing on social media? A million small vexations......which we very often feel compelled to tell them off? 00:49:55 Catherine Opie: What does one say to someone who justifies anger by pointing to the righteous anger of Jesus driving people out of the temple? This is a common thing that I hear from people who wish to justify their own anger, including myself here. 00:55:34 Anthony: Jesus had already proved Himself to be Lord of the Sabbath, correct?  He demonstrated authority.  Plus they Knew Him from the prophecy of His birth and the disputation in the Temple at age 12/13 01:01:59 Rick Visser: What is the best book on the life of each

St. Isaac does not flatter us with easy consolations. He sets before the monk the radical alternative: almsgiving is like the rearing of children, but stillness is the summit of perfection. One can pour out possessions, but if one’s senses remain open to the world, unbarred gates, then the enemy will always find a way in. It is not enough to scatter coins if the mind is still scattered; the true work is to gather the heart into stillness, where God alone becomes its horizon. Isaac shows us the two wars. The first is fought outside: through sight and hearing, through eating and speech, through the ceaseless tangle of affairs. This “exterior warfare” is exhausting and subtle, for it draws the soul outward, dispersing its strength. But there is another war, fought within. Only when the gates of the senses are shut can one turn inward to confront the deeper enemy: thoughts, passions, memories, and the hidden demons that assault the heart. To reach the “rest in God,” the monk must first cease from unnecessary noise without, in order to learn serenity within. The blessedness of stillness, Isaac tells us, is to translate all one’s activity into the work of prayer. A man who can remain in his cell, moving from divine service to divine service with nothing added, will never lack for what is necessary, because he has made God his sole concern. Even manual work, though permitted, is an accommodation for the weak. The more perfect path is prayer and compunction; prostrations before the Cross, like a convict bound, crying out for mercy without ceasing.It is this interior life and the divine rest the comes through it that St. Isaac will describe for us next week. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:05:45 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 151 mid paragraph 3000:23:40 Rebecca Thérèse: Once the robber knows he has everything, he won't be back to bother you again. There's nothing else to steal and he has no further means of threatening or manipulating you. 00:29:31 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 151, paragraph 31 at bottom of page 00:30:15 Julie: Reacted to "P. 151, paragraph 31…" with 🙏 00:32:53 Anthony: Father, for me I don't think it's exactly a linear progression. Some people might have the external and internal awareness overlap. 00:40:42 Jessica Imanaka: I worry about acedia/sloth... not so much because of praying offices, but from slipping into endless meditations on spiritual readings to the potential neglect of my schoolwork and housework. It's hard to discern given that my career/life gives me some leeway in what to focus on and when. 00:45:10 Kathryn Rose: We should turn these mundane necessary tasks into types of prayers 00:45:40 Elizabeth Richards: Like Brother Lawrence 🙂 00:45:52 carolnypaver: Reacted to "We should turn these..." with ❤️ 00:46:30 carolnypaver: Replying to "We should turn these..." St. Josemaria Escriva taught this. 00:46:42 Kathryn Rose: Reacted to "St. Josemaria Escriv…" with ❤️ 00:47:38 Diana Cleveland: I have found this to be so true. For years I have wanted to renovate my house, but never had the money. Over the last 20 years or so, as I have watched trends come and go that I could never participate in, the cutting back has served to cultivated an abundance mindset vs scarcity. I always thought the cutting back would make me crave more, but actually cutting back has produced satisfaction in simplicity of life. 00:49:23 Art: Reacted to "We should turn these..." with 👍 00:50:35 Art: This little excerpt has helped me a lot of late.  “Fix your heart on God.  For the time being, you cannot, I admit, apply yourself to prayer or to other exercises of piety: but, with my confidence founded on Christ, I will give you a rule which will enable you to pray without ceasing: He prays always who lives well.  Animate yourself with faith, I beg you; keep yourself in the presence of God in all your actions.”  St. Paul of the Cross 00:52:43 Anthony: Oh I learned by experience not to multiply devotion....burnout and legalism and a lac

The Fathers in the Evergetinos remind us that the measure of our discipleship is often revealed in how we respond to insult and injury. The world teaches us to defend ourselves, to demand justice, to take vengeance so as not to appear weak. But the Gospel calls us to something altogether different, something that cuts against every instinct of pride: to bear wrongs patiently, to forgive from the heart, and to entrust judgment to God. Abba Cassian tells us that meekness is not merely restraining the tongue, but cleansing the heart itself from the remembrance of wrongs. Outward silence while inwardly replaying offenses is no victory. Unless the root of anger is excised, hatred and envy grow unseen. I know this in myself — how quickly I replay words spoken against me, how easily I justify my resentment. Yet God sees these thoughts, hidden to others, as clearly as if they were deeds. The elders of the desert show us another way. Abba Sisoes shocks a brother out of his thirst for revenge by praying that, since the man insists on avenging himself, God need no longer care for him. Abba Silouan alters the Lord’s Prayer to expose the truth of the brother’s heart: “forgive us not our debts, as we forgive not our debtors.” Their teaching is sharp, but it leaves no room for illusion. If I ask God for mercy, I must extend mercy to my brother, or else my prayer condemns me. The Fathers press us to look at Christ Himself. He endured insult without anger, was silent under reviling, forgave those who crucified Him, and laid down His life for those who sinned against Him. When I see how easily I take offense, how quickly I lash out or withdraw, I realize how little I resemble Him. And yet the call is clear: to follow Christ is to walk His path of forbearance, not simply to admire it from a distance. This is where the path of the Fathers collides with the way of the world. To the secular mind, insult must be answered, wrong must be repaid, and forgiveness is weakness. But in Christ’s kingdom, insult becomes an opportunity to share in His meekness, wrongs become the occasion to enter His patience, and forgiveness becomes our share in His Cross. And so I am left with a choice, not abstract but daily, often in small things: Will I bear insult with humility, or will I cling to pride? Will I entrust myself to God’s justice, or will I grasp for my own? The Fathers tell me plainly: if I cannot endure the smallest slights, how will I endure greater trials? If I cannot forgive the neighbor who wounds me in words, how can I hope to be known by Christ, who forgave even His executioners? The divine ethos is stark. To love those who hate me. To pray for those who grieve me. To forbear without resentment. To entrust vengeance to God. This is not optional; it is the very mark of one who has died and risen with Christ. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:12:59 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 281 B 00:14:30 Forrest Cavalier: https://biblehub.com/greek/3954.htm  Translated as Familiarity in Hypothesis 34 book 2, p266 00:19:11 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 281 B 00:40:05 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 283 A 00:50:41 Andrew Zakhari: It is amazing how what we would say to each other changes dramatically when we consider directing those same words to God. Prayer exposes our sin and converts us. 01:04:55 Kate : Would the Fathers take a pacifist position?  And would they not accept the Catholic just-war theory? 01:06:37 Catherine Opie: I am always amazed at how apt these readings are. I always get exactly what I need for whatever the inner struggle or circumstance is that is current for me or around me generally as a societal or news event. I have been attacked physically and, to my surprise, my instinct was to fight back like a wild animal. How do we learn to obstruct that survival instinct we have? 01:15:00 Maureen Cunningham: Thank you Blessing 01:15:19 Andrew Adams: Thanks be to God! Thank you, Father! 01:15:21 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:15:27 Jennifer Dantchev: Thank you! 01:15:35 Ca

St. Isaac speaks with the voice of one who has tasted what he teaches. His words carry both severity and sweetness, and at their heart lies a single call: to love God with such singleness that all else is left behind, and to find rest in Him alone. He begins by speaking of reading. For the one who prays, reading is no small companion. Instead of being filled with scattered memories and impressions of the world, the soul, when nourished by Scripture, finds within itself a treasury for prayer. The words of God become recollections that rise up during stillness, offering the mind holy material with which to converse with God. Sometimes these recollections themselves are so sweet, so overwhelming, that they silence the heart entirely and leave the soul motionless before God. Reading thus becomes a doorway into the mysteries of prayer—not as an exercise of intellect alone, but as communion, as a sacrament of remembrance that enlightens the heart. But to enter such prayer, St. Isaac reminds us, requires renunciation. A heart weighted with possessions or concerns is like wet wood that cannot be set aflame. Divine fervor does not ignite in a soul that loves ease. The words are stark, even offensive, but they uncover the truth: we cannot serve two masters. Only the one purified of worldly entanglements will be able to bear witness to the sweetness of God’s mysteries, for true knowledge is born only of experience, not of hearsay. Yet this renunciation is not negation alone. It must take flesh in mercy. St. Isaac turns us to almsgiving, the act that draws the heart most near to God. To give freely, without discrimination between worthy and unworthy, without expectation of return, is to love as God Himself loves. Poverty chosen for Christ becomes a higher wealth, freeing the mind for serenity and boldness in prayer. Still, even here he warns us of subtle temptations: one may come to love possessions “for the sake of almsgiving,” and thus re-enter turmoil. Almsgiving is holy, but stillness is higher, for in stillness the soul communes with God directly, free of all care. This is St. Isaac’s vision—severe, yes, but radiant: to become all flame with the love of God, to renounce all so that one might rest in Him, and in that rest, to discover the joy of unceasing prayer and the inexhaustible fountain of His mercy. Here, and here alone, the soul finds the rest of love. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:10:46 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 149, last sentence on page 00:22:51 Diana Cleveland: I have found that is to be really true. It is easy to get hyper fixed on self instead of meditating on God. 00:24:14 Diana Cleveland: *hyperfixated 00:32:01 Lou Judd: Question: Father, if we are suffering or are distracted or angered by the situation of the Church, what leaders are doing… and that is distracting and upsetting you … what do you do? 00:39:44 David Swiderski, WI: I remember something from Chesterton who mentioned when someone stole his umbrella at a catholic church he knew it as the right place for him a sinner. Sometimes our pride can get in the way. I learned a long time ago to stop listening to a largely anti catholic media and read what actually is written by the church or Vatican. I prefer a more traditional mass but will go anywhere and in any language where the eucharist is present. 00:40:25 Diana Cleveland: I think of the lamentations of the minor prophets at times of anger. 00:41:03 Catherine: Reacted to I remember something... with "😂" 00:41:22 Lou Judd: You’re absolutely right, Father. But it’s so hard to hear. I don’t know how. 00:42:54 Anthony: Anger over injustice is an ingrained feeling in a "Republic" in which everyone is made to feel responsible for the actions of our leaders and society. 00:43:39 Lilly: The crucifixion itself made the Apostles scatter. Let us stay close to Our Lady in times of disturbances 00:44:40 Jessica Imanaka: Would that process be akin to Cassian's recommendations in the Institutes to meditate on cer

The Evergetinos gives us stories that cut to the heart of Christian life: how do we respond when insulted, wronged, or treated unjustly? The world would have us defend our honor, insist on our rights, repay injury with injury. But the Fathers reveal another way — the way of Christ — in which anger is cut out at the root, vengeance rejected, and the heart freed from the tyranny of retaliation. The Example of St. Pachomios When insulted by his own brother, St. Pachomios felt the sting of anger rise within him. Yet instead of defending himself, he went into the night to weep before God. He confessed not his brother’s fault, but his own weakness. This is the paradox: the saint sees not an occasion to justify himself but to deepen his repentance. The world teaches us to stand tall when wronged; Pachomios bowed low, stretching out his hands like Christ crucified, begging mercy and was healed. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:08:19 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 278, #7 00:13:45 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 278, #7 00:14:28 Lilly: I have it too 00:21:51 Myles Davidson: I heard someone describe a debate between a Catholic and Orthodox recently as a “blood sport” 00:38:38 Lilly: A response could be “I'll pray for you.” 00:48:40 Andrew Zakhari: I find that in counseling when there is over eagerness on my part to try to help, it almost creates a controlling temperament and often leads to frustration for me and the counselee. 00:58:36 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 280, A 01:00:47 Bob Čihák, AZ: or Book by P G Wodehouse, "Aunts Aren't Gentlemen" 01:14:58 Kate : I have often heard that it is not sinful to feel anger so long as we do not act on that anger.  But St. Pachomios is weeping because he even feels anger. 01:16:00 Quinn Larnach-Jones: Thank you, Fr.! 01:16:02 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:16:09 Catherine Opie: Many thanks once again for a thought provoking talk.

St. Isaac’s words fall like a plough upon the heart. He does not speak of religion as ornament, nor of spiritual life as a gentle addition to human comforts. His vision pierces through to the marrow: the Kingdom of God is hidden within, yet it is veiled from us by attachments, by the clamor of outward concerns, by the fog of our restless desires. To find God we do not roam heaven and earth, chasing visions or “phantasms.” We are told simply to purify the soul, to drive away cares foreign to our nature, to cultivate humility and chastity of heart. In that stillness, the mysteries of God shine forth. Renunciation, for St. Isaac, is not a dour rejection of creation but a necessary loosening of chains. The soul addicted to “ease,” to possessions, to the endless commerce of sights and sounds, is like wet wood; it cannot ignite with the fire of divine love. Only when stripped, when made poor and simple, can it burn. Poverty, humility, stillness; these are not negations but preparations, making space for the light that transforms. It is a paradox: what seems like loss is the doorway into inexhaustible gain. Isaac teaches us that prayer and reading are not separate paths but one movement of the soul. Reading feeds prayer; prayer clarifies the mind and makes reading luminous. When a man stands in prayer, Scripture rises up within him like fresh springs. It silences distractions, fills the heart with recollection of God, and sometimes overwhelms prayer itself with the sweetness of divine astonishment. Such moments are not learned from books, not borrowed secondhand, they must be tasted. Without the labor of vigilance, no one will know them. Without knocking with persistence, the door remains closed. Yet the fruit of such striving is nothing less than transfiguration. The soul that bows before the Cross in vigil and compunction finds fountains of sweetness rising from within; unexpected, uncaused by effort alone. Joy surges, the body itself trembles with divine consolation, and prayer ceases to be labor and becomes gift. This is the hidden fire of the Kingdom, the mystery known only to those who hunger and thirst for God above all else. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:06:25 susan: what page? 00:11:46 Fr. Miron Kerul-Kmec Jr.: No I don’t. I stole it from you 00:37:47 Ryan Ngeve: Father this seems to imply that external converse has a great effect on the internal internal self. How does this relates to the role of the thought as the source of all temptation 00:38:09 Jonathan Grobler: After decades of severe addiction to digital entertainment, silence has become an exceptionally difficult thing to achieve. It is truly a difficult thing to break away from. 00:44:22 Thomas: Will intellectually accepting something eventually lead to belief of that thing in the heart 00:44:40 John Burmeister: Reacted to "After decades of sev..." with 👍 00:50:37 Rachel: I find it hard to come across a confessor that understands I'm trying to expose my thoughts. Roman rite frequently requests obvious sins only.  How would I check my thoughts on my own to God?  I think I'd just be thinking about thinking and will lack simplicity. 00:57:18 susan: yoke mercy to prayer...be kind to yourself trust Jesus will shepherd and guide  forgive yourself trust into the heart of Jesus 01:03:41 Rick Visser: Question:  what is "say your rule of prayer..." In the first line of this para. 01:05:33 Rick Visser: A transcendent "to do" list 01:05:42 Erick Chastain: What kind of reading of scripture has the effects he talks about here? 01:08:16 Maureen Cunningham: What version of the Bible do you think is the closest. I find the Orthodox read much different then other version to include the Eastern  version 01:08:28 Rachel: Do you have a suggestion for the best Bible translation? 01:15:44 Rick Visser: How about D B Hart's New Testament? 01:15:57 Jessica Imanaka: Reacted to "How about D B Hart's..." with 👍 01:15:59 Ben: Ignatius finally released the full Old & New T

The Fathers teach that anger is a form of idolatry. Just as the pagans once bowed before false gods, so too does the man who gives himself to wrath bow before the idol of rage, making himself a slave rather than a disciple of Christ. To renounce anger is to trample down idols and become a bloodless martyr, confessing Christ not with words but with meekness.   The first step in overcoming anger is silence — not speaking when provoked. From this small beginning, grace can bring the soul to tranquility. Abba Moses, once insulted, at first bore it in silence, and later even welcomed humiliation, reproaching himself instead of others. Anger, the elders say, is like a fire that lives on fuel: self-will, pride, contention, the need to be right. If these causes are cut off, the fire goes out; if they are fed, it consumes the heart with remembrance of wrongs and bitterness until the soul is destroyed.   The devil seizes every chance to inflame anger — sometimes over trifles, sometimes under the guise of justice. Yet the one who follows Christ must become a stranger to wrath. The Fathers themselves struggled long: some spent years begging God for freedom from this passion, knowing that controlling the tongue is the doorway to purifying the heart. Outward restraint is not enough; even hidden hatred makes a man a murderer before God. For the Lord searches not only deeds but thoughts, and will judge the secrets of the heart. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:04:58 Catherine Opie: Good evening/morning what page are we currently on? 00:07:04 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 276, G 00:07:46 Catherine Opie: Reacted to "P 276, G" with ❤️ 00:09:28 Anna: He participated in Byzantine Liturgy. In the records there's details on it. 00:10:39 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Evergetinos Volume II page 276 00:11:09 Anna: My daughter is doing a college paper on consecrated life that will bring in desert fathers thanks to these meetings. 00:12:28 Catherine Opie: NZ 00:12:42 Anna: Starting with historical aspects initially which brings in desert fathers and ending in women consecrated life because she feels called to Byzantine monasticism 00:26:48 Anthony: The demons say "what have you to do with us" as if Jesus is the interloper. But they are the outsiders and usurpers. 00:29:44 Maureen Cunningham: Thinking of Saint Padre Pio 00:31:03 Fr. C Mase: There is something to be said for keeping ones mind fixed on ones own repentance. I think that is what Abba-Moses did here. He could have focused on the hurt inflicted on Him but rather focuses on God and on His own repentance. Often it is easy to, when we are wronged, focus on the evil another has done to us. We can especially nowadays with so much evil in the world spend all our time railing about others and turning our eye away from our own vocation. Repentance. 00:32:33 Julie: Reacted to "There is something t…" with 🙏 00:32:44 Andrew Adams: Reacted to "There is something t..." with 🙏 00:33:02 wayne: Reacted to "There is something t..." with 🙏 00:33:08 Janine: Reacted to "There is something t…" with 🙏 00:37:50 Rick Visser: "the causes of anger are giving and taking." I don't understand. What is "giving and taking?" 00:42:17 Anthony: What are the causes due to the passions that if we give them, they go away? 00:44:33 Anthony: So we see it , recognize it and there is no sin if we desire to cut it off? 00:45:42 Forrest Cavalier: The literal greek for "their due" is προῖκα = dowry. 00:53:37 Anthony: Am I correct I can loathe ideas but at the same time wish goodness for people who lived out those ideas? 00:57:52 Maureen Cunningham: Divine Mercy Saint 01:15:54 Maureen Cunningham: Thank You Blessing 01:16:09 Andrew Adams: Thanks be to God! Thank you, Father! Great discussion tonight! 01:16:14 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:16:18 Catherine Opie: Thank you Fr. This was so perfect for me today. God bless. See you Thursday 01:16:22 Jonathan Grobler: Thank you father, love you lots ! Bye 01:16:26 Troy Amaro: Thank You Father 01:1

St. Isaac the Syrian leads us into a subtle yet decisive truth about the spiritual life: to taste of God rightly, one must be weaned from the world—not only from its visible distractions and passions, but also from the premature grasping of spiritual visions and insights. Renunciation, for Isaac, is not merely the abandonment of external goods; it is the letting go of everything that agitates, excites, or exceeds the soul’s present capacity. Like a child given honey before it can digest it, the soul that seeks lofty knowledge or noetic vision without purification risks sickness and collapse. This is why Isaac insists that silence and stillness are the true companions of renunciation. The soul must be emptied and simplified, freed from the clutter of worldly images, memories, and concerns. Only then can she begin to perceive, not in phantasy, but in the true theoria that God bestows upon the humble and pure of heart. Silence, for Isaac, is the protection of this delicate work. It guards the soul from shameless curiosity about mysteries that surpass her strength, and it teaches her to receive revelation with reverence, not presumption. Stillness, likewise, is the arena where renunciation becomes fruitful. By cutting off the “exterior war” of the senses—sight, hearing, chatter, possessions—the soul is fortified against the subtler inner warfare of thoughts. In this solitude, prayer and Scripture reading form the new conversation of the heart, replacing worldly recollections with the remembrance of God. Thus renunciation is not negative but deeply positive: it creates space for mercy, for purity, for true prayer, and for the divine astonishment that halts the soul in stillness before the mysteries of God. Isaac reminds us that almsgiving and voluntary poverty open the heart to boldness before God, but stillness is the summit—where the soul is no longer divided, tossed about, or burdened, but rests in the radiant quiet of God’s presence. Renunciation, then, is not escape but transfiguration. It severs us from the false sweetness of the world and teaches us to taste, in measure, the true sweetness of God. It bids us to be content with what is given, to wait in silence for the moment when grace itself will lift us beyond our measure, and to remain always in the humility by which mysteries are revealed. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:05:39 Bob Čihák, AZ: Our current book is “The Ascetical Homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian, revised 2nd Edition” 2011, published by Holy Transfiguration Monastery, https://www.bostonmonks.com/product_info.php/products_id/635 . This hard-covered book is on the expensive side but of very high quality. 00:12:38 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 147, halfway down page 00:26:41 carolnypaver: Page # ? 00:26:51 Andrew Adams: 148 00:26:59 carolnypaver: Reacted to "148" with 👍 00:28:34 Myles Davidson: I love these mystical passages of Isaac. No-one gets closest to being able to express the inexpressible as he is able. 00:28:46 Ben: Reacted to "I love these mystica..." with 👍 00:28:49 Bob Čihák, AZ: Reacted to "I love these mystica..." with 👍 00:30:22 Joshua Sander: Feel free to simply say, "He'll get to that," if Isaac expounds upon this later, but what, in Isaac's view, is the place of intellect in this way of going about the spiritual life? How can the intellect serve as an aid to this rather than, as it often has in the West, as a barrier to it? 00:32:12 Gwen’s iPhone: Didn’t St. Francis worry about that. 00:35:03 Myles Davidson: Someone has done an audiobook of Orthodox Psychotherapy on YouTube if anyone is interested 00:35:59 Eleana: Reacted to "Someone has done an ..." with 👍 00:36:07 Russ’s iPhone: How does Isaac integrate the emotions into the spiritual life and their impact on contemplation, our intellect, nous and our ability to discern our experience of God. Is his approach to the spiritual life highly intellectual? 00:36:14 David: What happened to Evargius Pontus did pride later take hold of him I fi

The fathers speak with one voice concerning the passion of anger: it blinds the eyes of the soul and expels the grace of the Spirit. St. Cassian tells us that even a “just cause” for anger blinds no less than an unjust one; whether gold or lead is pressed over the eyes, sight is equally obstructed. So too when anger burns, whether cloaked in righteousness or openly irrational, the light of the Sun of Righteousness is veiled from us. The words cut to the quick: we are not to excuse or harbor even a trace of anger. For Christ Himself declared that “whosoever is angry with his brother shall be in danger of judgment” (Mt. 5:22). St. John Chrysostom tells us that scribes added the phrase “without a cause” to soften the command, but the Lord’s intention was uncompromising: to root out the seed entirely, lest it grow into the frenzy that enslaves the heart. For the hesychast this teaching is clear: isolation is no refuge from anger. Cassian admits to raging at sticks of wood or the stubbornness of flint that would not spark quickly enough. The desert does not strip away anger; rather, it exposes it. If we think that by fleeing from brothers we escape the trial of forbearance, we deceive ourselves. Without the correction of life in common, passions grow unchecked, and even inanimate things can draw forth our wrath. Thus, for both monk and layman, anger must be confronted at its root. What, then, of those living in the world, immersed in the irritations and burdens of ordinary life? The fathers offer no easier path for them. Anger in the household, in work, in traffic, in all the frictions of daily existence—these, too, are occasions for forbearance, the training ground of meekness. The same Christ who commands the desert hermit commands also the parent, the spouse, the worker: “Be angry, and sin not” (Ps. 4:4). Turn anger not against neighbor or circumstance, but against the thoughts that seek to enslave. St. Maximos is clear: fasting and vigils restrain bodily desires, but anger is cured only by kindness, charity, love, and mercy. This is the practical labor of every Christian, monk or lay: to return insult with silence, to meet disturbance with meekness, to smother wrath with prayer.  The fathers remind us soberly that chastity, poverty, vigils, and every hardship will avail nothing if anger reigns in the soul on the Day of Judgment. For anger drives out the Spirit; where wrath abides, peace cannot dwell. And he who is without peace is also without joy.  Thus the path is narrow. Anger is a pit, and blessed is he who jumps over it, pulling the gentle yoke of Christ to the end with meekness. This is no less true for those in the city than for those in the desert. Whether at the dinner table, in the workplace, or in the monastery, each moment of provocation is an invitation to humility, to accuse oneself rather than another, to seize the opportunity for compunction rather than resentment. If we endure, grace will come. What seems at first an impossible command—to eradicate anger entirely—becomes, by the Spirit, an easy yoke. For the fathers remind us: all things are possible to the one who bends low in humility, entrusting his passions to Christ who alone can heal the soul. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:13:39 Tracey Fredman: I miss seeing Lori. I hope she's doing well. 00:16:52 Adam Paige: It’s Greek, he writes in Greek 00:18:54 Adam Paige: Some of his books are available digitally, but not Flying over the Abyss 00:19:41 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 272 St. John Cassian 00:20:30 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 272 E 00:44:26 Jacqulyn: Living on a ranch, I totally understand that feeling! 00:45:02 Erick Chastain: Is the worsening of the logismoi in the wilderness as opposed to when you are out in the world dependent on whether one is an introvert/extrovert? 00:45:13 Jacqulyn: Yes, I do! But the sheep keep me focused! 00:45:37 Bob Čihák, AZ: I get angry at myself, but not for long. 00:52:17 Anthony: Lately I've been encouraged by St

Synopsis of Tonight’s Group on The Ascetical Homilies of St Isaac the Syrian Homily 4 paragraphs 23 and following: St. Isaac teaches us that true spiritual perception, when granted by grace, is marked not by outward signs of exaltation, but by tears, peace of the senses, and the silence of the body before the living God. Such tears are not emotional outbursts, but a baptism of compunction — torrents flowing from eyes opened to behold reality as it is in God. They cleanse the heart, heal the passions, and usher the soul into a stillness that surpasses every worldly delight. His counsel guards us against curiosity and presumption in the spiritual life. Just as honey, if consumed in excess, becomes harmful, so too the pursuit of visions, lofty speculations, or knowledge beyond our measure can damage the soul. Instead, we are called to humility, patience, and silence. The mysteries of God are not seized by force of intellect but revealed to the pure of heart, to those who patiently endure the rugged way of purification. The ascetical life, then, is not about chasing extraordinary experiences but about purifying the heart through prayer, watchfulness, solitude, merciful love, and immersion in the Scriptures. Reading and prayer become companions, one feeding the other, until the mind is illumined and prayer flows with clarity. In such a state, the soul is lifted, yet simultaneously learns timidity — a holy shame at daring to draw near to what surpasses her nature. This shame, however, is itself a sign of humility, a safeguard against delusion. Thus, St. Isaac reminds us that the authentic path of prayer and spiritual knowledge is marked by sobriety, contrition, silence, humility, and charity. Tears are the sign of divine visitation; restraint and reverent stillness are its guardians. In this, the spiritual life becomes less about grasping after what is beyond us and more about receiving with wonder what God grants to the lowly. --- Text of chat during the group:   00:10:06 Tracey Fredman: https://www.pemptousia.tv/view/b/category/Programs/subCategory/saint_paisios_from_farasa_to_the_heavens__bbFSg/id/saint_paisios_from_farasa_to_the_heavens_episode_9_o69MH/lang/el_GR 00:11:23 Thomas: https://ancientfaith.us/media1 00:13:19 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 147, top of page 00:31:10 David: There is so much that delights the mind in the fathers and often heroic thoughts of doing more vigils, fasting, reading ahead come to mind. I often only am left with a superficial understanding I can't remember. I think one needs to digest slowly like food 00:32:39 David: On the negative side I watch my son's dog everytime she eats grass I find myself making the sign of the cross 00:33:02 Diana Cleveland: Fr. Can you say more what you mean by crisis of faith? Do you mean the kind of crisis that makes you question God or the kind that makes you not want to walk with God? 00:35:33 Anthony: Sometimes I want to lash out at "God" but then realize that is a false image, a mask I've imposed on God.  And then, I realize....it'll all be Ok, the false image is not the God Who loves me. 00:40:37 David: Each night I read from the psalter of St. Ephraim it seems to ground me thinking this saint speaks to my struggles. Sometimes with Climatus and Issac it seems like they have it all figured out and have unabtainum. 00:41:12 David: Mythical not obtainable 00:41:17 David: Used in business for products 00:45:29 Julie: How do you know which tears are for God and someone like me who can cry so easily reading lives of the saints and someone’s sorrows etc. 00:51:16 David: I read somewhere the west seeks to capture the understanding by the intellect and the east seeks to have it revealed by grace to the nous. 00:55:02 Francisco Ingham: I’ve heard say that the west is the mind of the Church and the east is her heart  We need to be deeply acquainted with both spiritual traditions 00:57:26 David: The first book published in the Americas was The Ladder of Devine Ascent. I often

The Fathers are unyielding in their teaching: anger must never be given room in the heart. It is a passion rooted in pride, and when indulged, it blinds the soul, drives away the Holy Spirit, and turns one into a worshipper of rage as if it were an idol. Abba Poimen reminds us that it is not enough to endure the turmoil anger creates—we must learn to drive it out entirely. Left unchecked, anger deceives us with excuses and pretexts, but humility demolishes the very foundation of its power. Abba Isaiah gives us the chief remedy: to keep ever before our eyes the humility of Christ—He who endured dishonor, insults, scourging, and even the Cross without anger. When we recall His long-suffering love, the pride that fuels our own wrath is dissolved, and our hearts are humbled into contrition. Later, St. Cassian will also warn us that even a “just cause” cannot justify anger, for once the heart is disturbed, its vision of God is darkened. Instead, we must redirect the sharpness of anger toward our own sinful thoughts, never toward our brothers. In our life in the world, anger manifests daily—in families, at work, in traffic, in countless irritations. But here, too, the Fathers’ counsel applies: anger is overcome not by isolation but by forbearance, meekness, kindness, and mercy. The remembrance of death, too, helps us put aside wrath, for what profit is there in clinging to resentment when eternity presses upon us? Anger makes us idolaters; love makes us free. To conquer anger is to begin living even now in the peace of the Kingdom. --- Text of chat during the group:  00:15:22 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 270, A, 6 00:37:25 Anthony: Let God arise and let His enemies be scattered is the fundamental approach. We want order. But let us keep in mind the Spanish Civil War, illustrated in the movie There Be Dragons to show the destruction done in the name of righteousness by mankind based on anger. 00:46:52 Julie: Is it the Jesus prayer the cuts through those thoughts 00:53:10 Hey Oh! : The idea that when we are calm we are better able to perceive what the mind is experiencing makes it so that we have a chance not to be reactive and instead can take in God’s goodness in the moment. This is Andrew. My friend from NJ changed my name title and I can’t fix it… 00:53:51 carolnypaver: Reacted to "The idea that when w..." with 😂 00:54:18 Jeff U: Reacted to "The idea that when w..." with 😂 00:55:17 Una: Who are you, Hey Oh!? 00:59:22 Anthony: When I want to pray, even before meals, I often have terrible thoughts 2. Are these opportunities to exercise humility, and so gifts, not sins on our part? 01:02:29 Julie: Sometimes the thoughts are so many that I find I need to keep active. Like gardening or helping someone to diffuse them 01:05:22 Myles Davidson: I’ve found praying the Jesus Prayer for a decent length of time (say half an hour to an hour at a time) can be effective at slowing down the thoughts. Particularly if done regularly 01:05:54 Bob Čihák, AZ: Replying to "Sometimes the though..." Thanks, Myles. 01:09:52 Anthony: The devil's, I suppose, encourage us to be gnostic, which is contrary to our crested and transfigured nature 01:19:32 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:19:38 Maureen Cunningham: Thank You Blessing to everyone 01:19:40 Hey Oh! : Thank you! God bless! 01:19:49 Jeff U: Thank you! God Bless

St. Isaac’s counsel confronts the modern temptation toward self-promotion, verbal dominance, and the illusion of expertise. In a time when our culture prizes quick answers, visible influence, and a polished public persona, his words cut against the grain. He reminds us that the deepest authority is not rooted in rhetoric or clever disputation, but in the quiet radiance of a virtuous life. Humility, expressed in meek speech, modest bearing, restraint in judgment, and continual learning, guards the soul from the injury of familiarity and the snares of pride. For those in the spiritual life today, this means resisting the lure of proving ourselves in debates, curating our image for approval, or speaking beyond what we have truly lived. It is an invitation to clothe our knowledge in tears and fasting, to let the wisdom of the Church shape our vision, and to guard our minds from curiosities that puff up rather than purify. Such a way seems “small” in the eyes of the world, yet it opens the heart to the grace of God, the only true teacher. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:10:58 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 145. Paragraph 20 00:12:39 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 145, mid-page # 20 2nd paragraph on page 00:13:11 Zack Morgan: no 00:24:51 Anthony: This goes so much against the grain of the Classical Greek world: being a public person and a public corrector after the manner of Socrates 00:40:14 Anthony: I found the spirit of blasphemy is contagious from people who proclaim they are righteous but take delight in showing the faults of others. I wish I could shake it off. 00:40:25 Una: Any practical suggestions for those of us whose knees are shot and can't do prostrations anymore? 00:45:55 Ben: I think St. Seraphim of Sarov said something about continual prayer supplying for the inability to fast. Could one hope that the same could be said about an inability to perform other ascetical works, like prostrations? 00:54:02 Ren Witter: How does one discern when one’s conscience differs from widely held beliefs in the Church because it is malformed, and when it differs but is in fact formed well? I am thinking of immediate, small things obviously, but also St. John Chrysostom, who experienced exile from the institutional Church, and who had such confidence in his own conscience that he could say “they have the churches, but we have the truth” ? 00:55:18 Anthony: Replying to "Any practical sugges..."   There's something about prayer being the highest ascetical work. Maybe in Evergetinos. 00:59:28 Mary 🕊️: The Truth stands invioable whether any human being gives voice to it or not. 00:59:32 Anthony: The sort us "me against the church" and delighting in it, cavorting in it, seems to me a spirit of blasphemy. 01:01:16 Rick Visser: I may be wrong but I think it was Saint Thomas Aquinas who said that even if our conscience is wrong we must follow it. 01:01:20 Ren Witter: If I may ask a potentially fraught question: as someone who reads a lot of Orthodox writers, and who considers the Orthodox Church a kind of estranged twin to the Catholic Church, I have come across a couple of teachings on morals in which my mind and heart agree with the Orthodox teaching more than the Catholic teaching. What do I do with this? Humbly follow the Catholic teaching against my conscience, or follow the more Orthodox way and trust that the Lord will be pleased with that? 01:01:45 Catherine Opie: "The truth is like a lion, let it loose- it will defend itself" 01:05:56 Maureen Cunningham: I see the beauty in all Christian church 01:07:19 Una: Is the Watchful Mind the book where it talks about spitting blood? Oh, yes. What do you make of that? 01:07:58 Una: Is it literal? 01:08:41 Joseph Lamb: I’ve heard that demons prey on your emotions and can make you think God wants you to do something, when really they’re trying to push you outside of His will. If that’s true, how can you tell the difference? 01:12:13 Anthony: Replying to "The sort us "me agai..."   We who bear th