The Praying Mind Seeks Union With the Heart
The gates of the senses have been shut: the tongue is silent, the eyes are closed, the hearing receives nothing from without. The mind, clothed in prayer and having laid down the burden of earthly thoughts, descends toward the inner chamber of the heart. The doors of the chamber are locked; on every side there is darkness, an impenetrable gloom. And the mind, at a loss, begins to knock with prayer upon the doors of the heart; it stands patiently at the doors, knocks, waits, knocks again, waits again, and prays again. There is no answer, no voice is heard! A deathly stillness and darkness respond with a grave-like silence. The mind withdraws from the heart’s doors, sorrowful, and in bitter weeping seeks some consolation. It was not permitted to stand before the King of kings in the sanctuary of the inner chamber.
Why, why have you been turned away?
Upon me lies the seal of sin. The habit of thinking about earthly things distracts me. There is no strength in me, for the Spirit does not come to my aid—the all-holy and all-gracious Spirit, who restores the union of mind, heart, and body, sundered by the terrible fall of man. Without the almighty, creative help of the Spirit, all my own efforts are in vain! He is most merciful, infinitely loving toward mankind; yet my impurity does not allow Him to draw near to me. I will wash myself in tears, I will be purified by the confession of my sins, I will not give my body the food and sleep whose abundance imparts heaviness to the soul. Clothed wholly in the weeping of repentance, I will descend to the doors of my heart. There I will stand, or sit, as the blind man in the Gospel, enduring the burden and tedium of darkness, and cry out to the One who is able to have mercy: “Have mercy on me!” (Mk 10:48).
And he descended, and stood, and began to cry out with weeping. He likened himself to a blind man who cannot see the true, unfading Light—to one deaf and mute, unable either to speak or to hear in the spiritual sense. He felt in very deed that he was truly blind, deaf, and dumb, standing at the gates of Jericho—the heart inhabited by sins—awaiting healing from the Saviour, whom he does not see, whom he does not hear, to whom he cries out only by his own wretched condition. He does not know His name; he calls the Son of God the son of David: for flesh and blood cannot honor God as God.
Show me the road by which the Saviour will pass. That road is prayer, as the Prophet declared to man on God’s behalf and by God’s Spirit: “A sacrifice of praise shall glorify Me, and therein is the way by which I will show him My salvation” (Ps 49:23). Tell me, at what hour will the Saviour pass? In the morning, or at noon, or toward evening? “Watch and pray, for you do not know at what hour your Lord will come” (Mt 24:42; Mk 13:33).
The road is known; the hour is not appointed! — I will go out beyond the city, I will stand or sit at the gates of Jericho, as the holy Apostle Paul counsels: “Let us therefore go out to Him outside the camp, bearing His reproach” (Heb 13:13). The world is passing away; all things in it are unstable: it is called not even a city, but a camp. I will forsake attachment to possessions, which are perforce abandoned at death, and often before death; I will forsake honors and perishing glory; I will forsake sensual pleasures, which rob one of the capacity for ascetic struggles and spiritual occupations. “For here we have no abiding city, but we seek the one that is to come” (Heb 13:14), which must first be revealed to me within my heart through the mercy and grace of God, my Saviour. Whoever does not ascend in spirit to the mystical Jerusalem during earthly life cannot, after the soul’s departure from the body, have any assurance that entry into the heavenly Jerusalem will be granted to him. The first is the pledge of the second.[1] Amen.