On the Jesus Prayer (Part 7)

Section III. On the Practice of the Jesus Prayer

Disciple. Set forth the correct manner of practising the Jesus Prayer.

Elder. The correct practice of the Jesus Prayer flows naturally from correct conceptions of God, of the all-holy Name of the Lord Jesus, and of man’s relationship to God.

God is a Being of infinite greatness, all-perfect, the Creator and Re-creator of men, the sovereign Lord over men, over Angels, over demons, over all creation visible and invisible. This conception of God teaches us that we must stand before God in prayer with the deepest reverence, with the greatest fear and trembling, directing all our attention toward Him, concentrating in attentiveness all the powers of mind, heart, and soul, rejecting distraction and fantastical imagination as a violation of attention and reverence, as a violation of the proper posture before God—a proper posture imperatively demanded by the majesty of God (Jn. 4:23–24; Mt. 22:37; Mk. 12:29–30; Lk. 10:27).[1] Isaac the Syrian said well: “When you prostrate yourself before God in prayer, be in your thought as an ant, as the crawling creatures of the earth, as a little worm, as a babbling child. Say nothing rational before Him; draw near to God in the manner of thinking of an infant.” Those who have attained true prayer feel an inexpressible poverty of spirit when they stand before God in praise, in confession, in laying their petitions before Him. They feel as though they have vanished, as though they do not exist. This is natural! When the one who prays senses abundantly the presence of God—the presence of Life Itself, of Life boundless and incomprehensible—his own life appears to him as the most minute drop compared with the boundless ocean. Into such a state came the righteous, long-suffering Job when he reached the highest spiritual advancement. He felt himself “dissolved” (Job 42:6), as snow melts and vanishes when the rays of the burning sun fall upon it.

The Name of our Lord Jesus Christ is Divine; the power and action of this Name are Divine—they are almighty and salvific; they surpass our understanding and are inaccessible to it. With faith, hope, and fervour, joined with great reverence and fear, let us perform this great work of God entrusted to us by God: let us practise prayer in the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ. “The unceasing invocation of the Name of God”, says the great Barsanuphius, “is a remedy that kills not only the passions but their very action. Just as a physician applies medicinal means or plasters to the wound of a sufferer, and they act—though the patient does not know how this is done—so too the Name of God, when invoked, kills all the passions, though we do not know how this is accomplished.”[2]

Our customary state—the state of all humanity—is a state of fall, spiritual delusion, and perdition. Recognising this state and, to the degree that we recognise it, feeling it, let us cry out from it in prayer—crying out in contrition of spirit, crying out with weeping and lamentation, crying out for mercy. Let us renounce all spiritual pleasure, all lofty states of prayer, as being unworthy of them and incapable of them. It is impossible to sing “the Lord’s song in a strange land”—in a heart held captive by the passions. If we hear an invitation to sing it, let us know for certain that the invitation is being made by “those who have taken us captive”. “By the rivers of Babylon” one can and must only weep. (Ps. 136:1, 3–4)

Such is the general instruction for the practice of the Jesus Prayer, drawn from Holy Scripture and the writings of the holy Fathers, from very few conversations with true men of prayer. Of the particular instructions—primarily for beginners—I consider it useful to mention the following:

Saint John of the Ladder advises enclosing the mind within the words of the prayer, and, however many times it may stray from the words, to bring it back again.[3] This mechanism is especially useful and especially convenient. When the mind is kept thus in attentiveness, the heart too will enter into sympathy with the mind through compunction, and prayer will be performed jointly by mind and heart. The words of the prayer should be pronounced very unhurriedly, even protractedly, so that the mind may have the opportunity to be enclosed within the words. Consoling and instructing communal monks who are engaged in monastic obediences, and encouraging their zeal and diligence in the ascetic struggle of prayer, John of the Ladder says: “From monks occupied with obediences God does not require prayer completely pure from distraction. Do not be cast down when you are robbed by distraction; be of good cheer, and constantly compel your mind to return to itself. Freedom from distraction is the property of the Angels.” “Those enslaved to the passions![4] Let us pray to the Lord constantly and unceasingly, because all who are without passions passed” by such prayer “from the passionate state to dispassion. If you train your mind unswervingly so that it does not stray anywhere” from the words of the prayer, “it will be with you even during your meal. But if you allow it unchecked wandering everywhere, it will never be able to abide with you. The great practitioner of great and perfect prayer said: ‘I would rather speak five words with my mind than ten thousand words with my tongue’ (1 Cor. 14:19). “Such prayer”—the gracious prayer of the mind in the heart, free from soaring—“is not proper for infants, and therefore we, as infants, taking care of the quality of prayer”—of attentiveness by means of enclosing the mind within the words—“let us pray very much. Quantity serves as the cause of quality. The Lord grants pure prayer to one who prays without slothfulness, abundantly and constantly with his own prayer defiled by distraction.” Beginning monks need a prolonged time for learning prayer. It is impossible, shortly after entering a monastery or beginning the ascetic struggle, to attain this supreme virtue.[5] Time is needed, and gradualness in the struggle, so that the ascetic may ripen for prayer in every respect. As flower and fruit grow on a stem or tree which must itself first be sown and grow: so also prayer grows upon other virtues, and cannot appear except upon them. A monk will not quickly master his mind; he will not quickly accustom his mind to abide within the words of prayer as though in enclosure and seclusion. Drawn away by the attachments, impressions, memories, and anxieties that have become his own, the mind of the beginner constantly breaks its saving bonds, leaves the narrow path, and is carried off to the wide one—it loves to wander freely through the heavens, in the country of delusions, with spirits that have been cast down from heaven—wandering without aim, senselessly, and to its own harm. The passions—these moral infirmities of man—serve as the fundamental cause of distraction in prayer. In proportion to the weakening of the passions, distraction diminishes. The passions are bridled and mortified little by little by true obedience and by the self-denial and humility that flow from true obedience. Obedience, self-denial, and humility are those virtues upon which advancement in prayer is founded. Freedom from soaring—to the degree accessible to man—is granted by God in due time to such an ascetic of prayer who, through constancy and zeal in the struggle, demonstrates the sincerity of his desire to acquire prayer.

The hieromonk Dorotheus, our fellow countryman—a great teacher of spiritual struggle, approaching in this quality Saint Isaac the Syrian—advises one who is training himself in the Jesus Prayer first to say it aloud.[6] He says that vocal prayer passes of itself into mental prayer.[7] “From much vocal prayer”, says the hieromonk, “flows mental prayer, and from mental prayer appears heartfelt prayer. The Jesus Prayer should be pronounced not in a loud voice but quietly, in one’s own hearing alone.” When there is a particular action of distraction, sorrow, despondency, or sloth, it is very beneficial to say the Jesus Prayer vocally:[8] vocal recitation of the Jesus Prayer gradually rouses the soul from the heavy moral sleep into which sorrow and despondency ordinarily plunge it. It is very beneficial to say the Jesus Prayer vocally when there is a forceful assault of thoughts and fantasies of carnal desire and anger, when from their action the blood grows heated and boils, when peace and quiet are taken from the heart, when the mind is shaken, weakened, as if overthrown and bound by the multitude of foul thoughts and fantasies: the aerial princes of malice, whose presence is not disclosed to bodily eyes but is known to the soul through the action they produce upon it, upon hearing the Name of the Lord Jesus—dreadful to them—will be thrown into bewilderment and confusion, will be seized with fear, and will not be slow to retreat from the soul. The method proposed by the hieromonk is very simple and convenient. It must be joined with the mechanism of Saint John of the Ladder—that is, one should pronounce the Jesus Prayer vocally, in one’s own hearing alone, without haste, enclosing the mind within the words of the prayer; the enclosure of the mind within the words of the prayer is also enjoined by the hieromonk himself.[8]

The mechanism of Saint John of the Ladder must also be observed with the method set forth by the Venerable Nil Sorsky in the 2nd Homily of his Rule or Sketic Ustav. The Venerable Nil borrowed his method from the Greek Fathers, Symeon the New Theologian and Gregory of Sinai, and somewhat simplified it. Saint Nil says: “What these saints have said about restraining the breath—that is, not breathing frequently—experience will soon teach is very useful for gathering the mind.” Some, not having understood this mechanism, attach excessive importance to it, restrain the breath immoderately, and thereby damage the lungs—causing harm to the soul at the same time by fixing upon it an incorrect conception. All heated and overly strained actions serve as obstacles to advancement in prayer, which develops solely in the breast of a peaceful, quiet, and reverent disposition of soul and body. “Everything immoderate is from the demons”, Pimen the Great used to say.[9]

For one beginning to train himself in the Jesus Prayer, a daily cell rule of a certain number of full and partial prostrations—proportionate to one’s strength—greatly assists in learning it. The prostrations are made unhurriedly, with a feeling of repentance, and at each prostration the Jesus Prayer is said. A model for this form of prayer may be seen in the “Homily on Faith” of the Venerable Symeon the New Theologian.[10] Describing the daily evening prayer struggle of the blessed youth George, Saint Symeon says: “He thought that he stood before the Lord Himself, and was prostrating himself at His most pure feet; he besought the Lord with tears that the Lord would have mercy upon him. In praying, he stood motionless like a pillar, not allowing himself any movement of the feet or of any other part of the body, not allowing his eyes to look curiously to the sides; he stood with great fear and trembling, not permitting himself drowsiness, despondency, or sloth.” The number of prostrations may initially be limited to twelve. In proportion to one’s strength and the convenience afforded by circumstances, this number may steadily increase. As the number of prostrations increases, one must strictly observe that the quality of the prayer struggle is preserved—so as not to be carried away toward a fruitless and harmful quantity through carnal excitement. From prostrations the body grows warm and somewhat tired: such a state of the body assists attentiveness and compunction. Let us take care, let us take care, that this state does not pass into carnal excitement—which is foreign to spiritual feelings and which develops the sensations of fallen nature. Quantity, so beneficial when the disposition and aim are correct, can be very harmful when it leads to carnal excitement. Carnal excitement is known by its fruits, by which it is distinguished from spiritual warmth. The fruits of carnal excitement are self-conceit, self-reliance, pride, vainglory—pride in its various forms, to which spiritual delusion easily attaches itself. The fruits of spiritual warmth are repentance, humility, weeping, and tears. The prostration rule is most conveniently performed at bedtime: at that time, when the day’s cares are over, one can perform the rule at greater length and with more concentration. But also in the morning and in the middle of the day it is beneficial—especially for the young—to make a moderate number of prostrations, some twelve to twenty. These prostrations maintain the disposition to prayer and the crucifixion of the flesh, and sustain and strengthen the zeal for the ascetic struggle of prayer.

The counsels I have proposed are, I believe, sufficient for a beginner wishing to learn the Jesus Prayer: “Prayer”, said the Venerable Meletius the Confessor, “requires no teacher, but effort, diligence, and special zeal—and God becomes its teacher.” The holy Fathers, having written many compositions on prayer in order to provide the practitioner with a correct understanding of it and a reliable guide for its practice, propose and encourage entry into the actual struggle itself for the acquisition of essential knowledge—without which teaching in words, even if drawn from experience, is dead, dark, and incomprehensible, needing to be explained and enlivened by experience.[11] On the other hand, one who is diligent in prayer and has already made progress in it must often turn to the writings of the holy Fathers on prayer, testing and directing himself by them—remembering that even the great Paul, though he had a witness to his Gospel surpassing all testimony in the witness of the Spirit, yet went up to Jerusalem and laid before the Apostles who were there the Gospel he had proclaimed among the Gentiles for their consideration—“lest by any means I might run or had run in vain” (Gal. 2:2), he says.

Disciple. Which books of the holy Fathers should one who desires to occupy himself with the Jesus Prayer under the guidance of God-inspired teaching read?

Elder. This depends on the manner of life conducted by the ascetic of prayer. Examine the compositions of Callistus and Ignatius Xanthopoulos on stillness and prayer—and you will see that it is written for monks living in seclusion or leading an eremitic life similar to the life of the monks of the Egyptian Skete, in which each elder lived in a separate cell with one, two, or at most three disciples. Monks who lead such a manner of life are called hesychasts by the holy Fathers.[12] A hesychast disposes of himself and his time according to his own judgment or according to the custom received from his teachers; whereas monks who are in community life are obliged to participate in communal worship and to engage in monastic obediences, having neither the right nor the ability to dispose of themselves and their time at will. Furthermore, only those who have advanced in monastic life are admitted to stillness—those who have been previously trained in community life and have been granted gracious overshadowing; and therefore the books of the holy Fathers written for hesychasts are in no way suited to beginners or in general to monks who practise their struggle in coenobitic monasteries. What has been said about the book of Xanthopoulos must also be said about the books of Gregory of Sinai, Isaac the Syrian, Nil Sorsky, and the hieromonk Dorotheus. One who is occupied with prayer while also engaged in monastic obediences may become acquainted with these books—but not in order to be guided by them, solely for knowledge, observing care meanwhile that they do not draw him prematurely into solitude and seclusion or into an inappropriate struggle. Both things frequently occur, to the greatest harm of one who has been deceived by injudicious zeal. Children and youths, when in their foolishness and levity they attempt to lift a weight exceeding their strength, strain themselves and often ruin themselves entirely: so also those who have not matured in spiritual age incur great calamities from a spiritual struggle not corresponding to their state, and not infrequently fall into an irremediable disorder. The compositions of Saints Hesychius, Philotheus, and Theoleptos, contained in the second part of The Philokalia, are very beneficial both for communal and for solitary monks. Especially beneficial are the prefaces of the schema-monk Basil: in them is set forth the teaching on the prayer of repentance—a teaching so beneficial, so necessary for our time. Many edifying instructions on prayer are found in the book of Barsanuphius the Great; it should be noted that the first half of it contains answers to hesychasts, while the second half—from the 220th answer—contains answers to monks who had practised their struggle in community life.

Disciple. What is meant by “the place of the heart”, of which Saints Symeon the New Theologian, Nikephoros the Monk, and other Fathers speak?

Elder. It is the rational power or spirit of man, present in the upper part of the heart, opposite the left nipple, just as the mind is present in the brain. In prayer it is necessary that the spirit be united with the mind and pronounce the prayer together with it, the mind acting through words pronounced by thought alone or also with the participation of the voice, while the spirit acts through the feeling of compunction or weeping. The union is granted in due time by Divine grace; and for the beginner it is sufficient if the spirit is in sympathy with and assists the mind. When attentiveness is maintained by the mind, the spirit will without fail feel compunction. “Spirit” is ordinarily called “heart”, just as the word “head” is used in place of “mind”. Pray with attentiveness, in contrition of spirit, helping yourself with the mechanisms enumerated above: by doing so, experiential knowledge of the place of the heart will open of itself. It is satisfactorily explained in the prefaces of the schema-monk Basil.

Disciple. It seemed to me that you answered my question about the place of the heart reluctantly, and that by sending me to the prefaces of the schema-monk Basil you evaded setting forth your own thoughts and views. I beseech you, for my benefit and that of others, to speak openly on my question.

Elder. Your question has cast sorrow upon my heart. This question has been put to me by many—and it was frequently the expression by which a state of self-delusion, a state of spiritual injury, made itself known. Spiritual injury produced by incorrect practice of spiritual struggles is healed only with difficulty—for the most part it remains incurable. It remains incurable either because of the pride of those who have been injured, or because the injury has reached its end. The poison of falsehood is terrible: with stubbornness it holds fast in those who received it willingly; it leaves its deadly action in those who, having recognised it, did not reject it and did not expel it from themselves with resolute self-denial. Builders of castles in the air, seeing their edifice rising to the heavens, admire and delight in this seductive spectacle:[13] they do not like to be reminded of the Gospel commandment proclaiming that every “man who builds a house must dig, and deepen, and lay a foundation upon rock” (Lk. 6:48). The rock is Christ. Christ stands before the eyes of our mind in the Gospel: He stands before the mind’s gaze in His way of life; He stands before the mind’s gaze in His teaching; He stands before the mind’s gaze in His commandments; He stands before the mind’s gaze in His humility—by reason of which He was “obedient even to death, even the death of the cross” (Phil. 2:8). The one who imposes upon himself the heavy labour of digging the earth and descends into it is he who, contrary to the pull of the heart, descends into humility—who, rejecting his own will and his own reason, endeavours to learn the commandments of Christ and the tradition of the Orthodox Church with exactness, and to follow them with exactness; the one who lays firm stones as a foundation is he who cares, before and above all other struggles, to correct and direct his moral life in accordance with the conduct, the teaching, and the testament of our Lord Jesus Christ. There is no place for true prayer in a heart that has not been ordered and disposed by the Gospel commandments. On the contrary, spiritual delusion is planted in each of us by the fall: “By reason of this state of self-delusion—which is an inalienable property of each of us—it is customary for the mind”, says the Venerable Gregory of Sinai, “especially in light-minded people, to strive prematurely toward acquiring lofty states of prayer, by which even the small spiritual ordering given by God is lost, and the practitioner is struck with deadness toward everything good. And therefore one must examine oneself carefully, so as not to seek prematurely that which comes in due time, and so as not to reject that which is placed in one’s hands by reaching for something else.[14] It is characteristic of the mind to represent to itself by fantasy lofty states of prayer that it has not yet attained, and to “distort” them in its own fantasy or in its own opinion. It is very dangerous lest such a practitioner be deprived even of what has been given to him, lest he fall into mental impairment and madness from the action of spiritual delusion.” Spiritual delusion in greater or lesser degree is the inevitable logical consequence of incorrect prayer struggle.

Monastic life is a science of sciences, a Divine science. This applies to all monastic struggles—and applies in particular to prayer. In every science there is a beginning, a gradualness in the imparting of knowledge, and final exercises: so too in the learning of prayer there is its own order, its own system. Careful observance of the order—which is the same as the system—serves in every science as the guarantee of solid success in it: so also correct practice of prayer serves as the guarantee of progress in it—of the progress with which it pleases God to enrich the ascetic. The rejection of system in the study of a science is the source of perverted conceptions, the source of a knowledge which is worse than ignorance, being an incorrect and negative knowledge: such is also the consequence of disorderly practice of prayer. The inevitable and natural consequence of such practice is spiritual delusion. Self-willed monasticism is not monasticism. It is spiritual delusion! It is a caricature, a distortion of monasticism! It is a mockery of monasticism! It is the deceiving of oneself! It is play-acting—very capable of attracting the attention and praise of the world, but rejected by God, devoid of the fruits of the Holy Spirit, abounding in fruits that proceed from Satan.”

Footnotes