“A Future Full of Hope”

 

God's Plan: “A Future Full of Hope”

This is what God says through the prophet Jeremiah: “For I know the plans I have in mind for you – it is the Lord who speaks – plans for peace and not disaster, a future full of hope” (Jeremiah 29: 11).

Jeremiah was the prophet who voiced the “word of the Lord” ratifying a new covenant for the house of Israel, to be established “by putting my laws in their hearts and minds . . . I shall be their God and they shall be my people”. This was understood by Saint Augustine “to be a prophecy of the Jerusalem above, whose 'reward' is God himself” - symbolic of the Jerusalem in heaven. But it references also “Jerusalem called the city of God”, the house of God in that city which had its fulfillment when King Solomon built the temple there.

The human society – the earthly city - represented by Augustine's City of God had (and has) an unremittingly bleak outlook, but “Christianity offers mankind a hope besides which the gloom of the human condition is as nothing . . . always hopeful and, in the deepest sense optimistic.” On the other hand, “Augustine's discussion of the afterlife does not establish a clear picture of what awaits, but instils expectant hope, while nurturing the faith and trust that will enable the hopeful to accept what they find. The weakness of the human mind and its language are just too great in the face of the greatest mysteries. Theology can only instil reverence and leave behind a residue of hope.” As with that other mystery of the faith, the Trinity – the three-personed deity of Christian belief – we must be content “that it is so”. Some things just are beyond comprehension. 
 
George Herbert, a 17th century poet/priest of exceptional spiritual insight, attempted a deeper consideration of the mind of God: 

       I threatened to observe the strict decree

       of my dear God with all my power and might; 

       But I was told by one it could not be;

       Yet I might trust in God to be my light.

       “Then I will trust,” said I, “in Him alone.”

       “Nay, e'en to trust Him was also His:

      We must confess that nothing is our own.”

       “Then I confess that he my succour is”.

       “But to have nought is ours, not to confess 

      That we have nought.” I stood amazed at this,

      Much troubled, till I heard a friend express

      That all things were more ours by being His;

      What Adam had, and forfeited for all,

      Christ keepeth now, who cannot fail or fall.       (The Holdfast)

Realizing the impossibility of following to the letter the “strict decree” the poet said he opted to simply “trust God to be my light”. Even “trust”, however, was not the answer because “we must confess that nothing is our own”; yet even this confession avoided the bedrock truth: through Christ “having nothing” is, spiritually speaking, to have all (not to own all) because “all” is kept safe for us by the grace of God and “more ours by being his”. Or, as St Paul said, he heard the Lord say to him: “My grace is sufficient for you”. (2 Cor. 12: 10).

A 14^th Century writer with lofty spiritual ideals, Thomas A Kempis (d.1263), warned of the dangers inherent in aspiring to achieve spiritual 'perfection'. “Some”, he wrote in The Imitation of Christ, “presumptuous because of the grace of devotion, have destroyed themselves, because they have wished to do more than they were able, (preferring) to follow their heart's impulse than the judgments of reason”. He maintained that the intentions (intuitions) of the faithful depend more on the grace of God than on their own wisdom, “for in him to do they put their trust, whatsoever they take in hand”. 
 
Many devout Christians believe, and see very clearly, God's Will for their life. Some may eventually doubt this and reach the conclusion that they have “blown it”, thinking themselves spiritual failures. “Bible Life Coach”, Sheri Rose Shepherd (Sheri Rose Shepherd) has posted discreet advice to counter this misconception: “You, my beautiful friend, are not that powerful!” Human expectations are sometimes a bridge too far; there are mysteries beyond our understanding.

“The way of a man is not in himself” (Jeremiah 10.23), so we put no trust in the flesh, as St Paul tells the Corinthians: “I will all the more gladly boast (confess?) my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me”. “Left to myself I am nothing. Thou look upon me, I am made strong.” “It is God's to give and console, when he will and as much as he will, and whom he will, as much as it please him, and no more . . .” The Imitation of Christ (Chapter VIII)

We can never say that we have “blown” anything, since our apparent failures are all part of God's plan for our lives; if we never stumbled we would not experience the recovery that faith facilitates when, despite all, and having put our trust in him, we know “that in all things God works for the good of those who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8. 28. 
 

None of this is to deny the witness of scripture, that there is in God's plan for every human person a purpose, indeed for the whole world, “a future full of hope”. This is a promise that, taken personally and sincerely in faith, has the potential to radically alter the direction, indeed the end, of any life. The grace of God is ours for the taking on the basis of trust: “in him we move and have our being” (Acts 17.28). 
 
Prior to his recent death after a long illness a distinguished historian had this advice to others who are dying: “If you are, like me, faced with a terminal illness and Christian, you have been given the opportunity to prepare yourself to meet your creator. Be thankful that you have not died suddenly. You have been privileged and it is important that you should make use of this grace to set your affairs in order.” 

A Franciscan saint is quoted as saying “in books we seek God, in prayer we find him. Prayer is the door that opens God's heart” - whereby we accept God's mysterious will and purpose for our lives.

Geoff Wellings - October 2016.
 
 

 

 

beyondblue: Depression and the Desert Monks

When I read about Jeff Kennett's work with beyondblue (The WeekendAustralian Magazine, 17-18^th September 2016) as founder of an advocacy group to support people with depression, it reminded me of studies I had undertaken many years ago on monastic practices in Egypt and the writings of John Cassian (c.360-c.433). I summarized my essay in these terms: “The spirituality of John Cassian is as relevant today as it was for those desert Christians who engaged in spiritual warfare with their own natures. The struggle is never more acute than when threatened by acedia, against which the will and the 'whole person' must be unified in resistance.” Acedia was considered the most dangerous vice afflicting desert monks and there are parallels between “weariness of heart” and the modern-day affliction we know as “depression”, described by Kennett in his own terms to include: “lack of a purpose in life”, and ultimately, “hope”. Cassian could only agree: "the principle is simply this: no work, no satisfaction; no goals, no achievement; no self-discipline, no peace of mind'.

To compare religio/social conditions in fourth century Egypt and modern society may seem unwarranted, but there is much psychologically in common between the eras. The collapse of Rome in the Fourth-Fifth Century AD sent shock-waves across the Western Empire and saw many thousands of men and women fleeing into the desert regions of Egypt to find sanctuary from the unprecedented strife and collapse of civil society. Cassian was not himself a monk, but ventured into the then thriving eremite (monastic) communities of the upper Nile region to discover for himself the nature of a phenomenon that had widespread repercussions for the development and spread of Christianity in the period following the retreat from Rome in the wake of the barbaric invasions from the North and East (Goths,Vandals).

Were they our contemporaries, we might well hear those former companions and cell-mates, John Cassian (c.360-c.433) and Germanos, discussing their experiences among the solitaries in terms of a journey of self-discovery, “as if they had arrived not so much at a new place, as a new accommodation with their own natures”. For us, far removed from any Skete or similar place of solitude, the habitual locus of our spiritual journey might be not so much a place as a new accommodation with our inner selves – our “cell”. In modern thought, the solitary's cell perhaps equates more to what Thomas Merton termed the “unified human person”, for indeed in Merton’s unpublished work, “The Inner Experience”, there seems much with a familiar 'ring' to it: a re-integration of the personality “into a co-ordinated and simple whole” may quite adequately define the essence of Cassian's spirituality in general, and acedia in particular.

Cassian's monk, afflicted with “weariness of heart” (acedia), has all the features of one living a distracted, fragmented and compartmentalized existence. Cassian's remedy is to refocus on the forgotten objective, “which is nothing else than the vision and contemplation of that divine purity which excels all things. This can only be gained in silence, by continually remaining in one's cell , and by meditation.” Here, restated, is the monk's ultimate goal: the kingdom of God, and his immediate purpose, purity of heart.

For the monk who cherishes above all else that solitude wherein his soul is accommodated in pure contemplation, the worst thing that can happen to him is to lose his love of solitude. For that reason, the most dangerous of the “vices” described by Cassian is that of acedia; it is the very end, because it entices a monk to give up and leave his cell. Nevertheless, “a state of deep peace and inexpressible joy” still awaits the monk who wills to resist, who engages the enemy and finally triumphs. This battle, this struggle to overcome weariness of heart with all its features of distraction, delusion and despondency, is for the monk indeed crucial; all his energies must be concentrated in keeping his mind and heart fixed on the goal.

For those whose most compelling undertaking in life is the spiritual journey, Cassian's teaching on acedia remains both relevant and important. The practical issues addressed b y him include many modern day afflictions: laziness, boredom, restlessness and lack of objectivity or purpose. One may start well toward spiritual “perfection”, but for reasons scarcely understood or even recognized, capitulate when the aim and purpose of the struggle becomes too obscure. Cassian's teaching is of practical benefit in deepening understanding of our human nature, and discovering ways of overcoming our frailties. We may work tirelessly, or even joyfully, in striving for our ultimate goal (whatever it may be), yet still give up when the going gets rough!

In Cassian we see an emphasis on the practical spirituality first systematized by his mentor, Evagrius. for Cassian, the spiritual life has a “compelling connection with the daily life of the individual”. It is this insistence on the active, rather than theoretical, life of contemplation that provides the essence of his spirituality, which is seen as spiritual warfare arising from the antagonisms in man's nature between 'flesh' and 'spirit': “man's will is balance between opposing forces, wishing to achieve the highest without toil and suffering. . . in a word, to be pure and lazy. This vital role of the will is made more acute by engaging in appropriate manual work, which is one way to ensure that the will is permitted the luxury of satisfying neither the 'flesh', nor the exercise of the will.

Cassian's stress on the value of manual labor serves to remind us that work is not only useful in order to provide for one's material needs, but also by its intrinsic value work contributes to the spirits well-being as well as mind and body. work enables us to avoid dependence on others, and at the same time provide for the necessarily dependent on us. It also permits us to direct our efforts outwardly in charitable service, as well as inwardly: doing that “other” work which is reading of the scriptures and prayer, meditation and the contemplation of “things invisible” - the opusDei. Humble work predisposes the mind for humble prayer.

The link between work and spiritual health is further developed in Cassian's commentary on the Apostle Paul's letter to the Thessalonians. Without resorting to the Pauline extremes – in our day those who do not work are still fed and clothed! - there are nevertheless important points in this discussion from which we can benefit. The principle is simply this: no work, no satisfaction; no goals, no achievement; no self-discipline, no peace of mind.

There are even more practical issues in the Pauline letter, bearing on ways and means of overcoming the temptations to idle, the evil that is seen as the root cause of acedia. At least three remedies are proposed which seem more appropriate than ever in these modern times: firstly, “take pains to be quiet”, suggesting the value of guarding the heart (detachment) from the trivia and empty distractions of the world; secondly, “do your own business”, a warning about involvement in affairs that do not concern us, and forming inappropriate relationships simply out of curiosity or even avarice; and thirdly, “work with your hands”, meaning humble work that involves both mind and body; work that may not even be necessary or demanded, but performed, like Abbot Paul, “simply to purify his heart, to strengthen his thoughts, persevere in his cell, and to overcome and expel acedia”.