Praying in the Rain
Evangelism according to St. Isaac the Syrian
Too often we say that we love the sinner but hate the sin; however in practice, I don’t think the sinners can tell the difference. May God help us to care for the bodily needs and to lovingly honour our neighbours, especially those we disagree with, and let us strive in appropriate measure to be diligent in our life of prayer and in our ascetic disciplines so that even without a word we may influence our neighbour to turn from what is evil to what is beautiful.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
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Transcript
June 7, 2016, 3 a.m.

When you wish to exhort someone toward the good, at first give comfort to his body and honour him with words of love.  For nothing so persuades a man to feel shame, and causes him to exchange his evils for what is better, as the bodily benefactions and the honour which he receives from you.  And a second means of persuasion is a man’s diligent effort to make himself a laudable example.  He who has succeeded in taking hold of himself by prayer and vigilance will easily be able to draw his neighbor to life, even without the toil of speaking and audible exhortation.  Negligence and laxity, however, harm not only those who yield to them, but also those who observe them.  No words can express how greatly that man is blessed who by diligent solicitude over himself can instil zeal in his neighbours for beautiful deeds and make the slothful feel shame by the very sight of him.  The silent deed has more power to reform other men than solicitous words of rebuke conjoined with a lax way of life.  For when you set yourself aright, you will help your neighbor to no small degree. (St. Isaac the Syrian, homily 48)




One does not generally look to hermits for advice on evangelism.  However, I think in this case St. Isaac sums up pretty well the commonly held Orthodox Christian understanding on the most effective means of evangelism.  He offers two strategies for evangelism.  The second is more effective, but more difficult than the first; but even the first form of evangelism is not easy.  The first form of evangelism is to care for the physical needs of those you wish to “exhort…toward the good.”  And along with this, you must honour them.  That, I think, is the hard part for most of us.  Many of us can understand the idea of caring for the poor—it’s hard to convert someone who is shivering in the cold.  But the honouring part, honouring “with words of love,” that’s the hard part.  It’s hard to honour someone when you think you are better than they are, when you think they have screwed up their life, and you think that if they had only tried a litter harder, they wouldn’t be in so much need.  That’s the hard part for me.



I was raised in a culture that believes the myth that people pretty much get what they deserve.  Those who work hard, succeed; those who don’t, fail: success or failure are our own fault.  This is what our culture teaches us.  In my mind, I know it’s not true. The facts, the evidence makes clear that the reality is much more complicated than that, that some people work very hard and can’t succeed in society while others hardly work at all and experience great success.  But myths have power.  So long as at some deep level I really think I am better than some others, that I have done what others could have also done if they had push themselves a little harder, so long as I think that someone else’s spiritual or moral or economic state is basically their fault, then it’s pretty hard to truly honour them.  But St. Isaac says that if we want someone “to exchange his evils for what is better,” then we must care for their bodily needs and lovingly honour them.



This honouring of those whose “evil” behaviour we want to change is particularly difficult in a time of cultural war.  Too often we say that we love the sinner but hate the sin; however in practice, I don’t think the sinners can tell the difference. I’m not sure how to correct this apart from radical repentance on the part of every Christian, myself first.  It’s clear to me that the political route is only making things worse—at least the political route as it is being largely pursued today, pursued as a war of good agains evil.  I am not saying that Christians can or should not be politically active, but what I am saying is that the way many Christians are acting politically nowadays isn’t working very well, isn’t convincing many people to exchange what is evil for what is better.  I wonder, what would things look like if we actually did honour and love those we disagree with politically? I must only wonder because I can’t imagine it. I cannot imagine it because I too struggle to honour and love those who seem to have committed themselves to a lifestyle and agenda that I consider to be destructive to society.



No wonder so few people are attracted to the Church.  If the world sees us fight as the world fights, what do people the world see that would draw them to Christ?



St. Isaac’s second bit of advice on how to evangelize, on how to “instal zeal in [one’s] neighbours for beautiful deeds,” is to be the example.  “Negligence and laxity,” St. Isaac tells us, “harm not only those who yield to them, but also those who observe them.”  The laxity and negligence St. Isaac is speaking of is laxity in personal ascetic discipline and negligence in prayer, in spiritual attention.  So long as what I really want is the same things that my neighbour wants, there will be conflict.  So long as my attention is outside of me, on stuff, on things that can be seen and felt, things that bring pleasure, things that represent position, power and prestige, so long as through negligence I let my attention focus on these things, I am no better off than my neighbour, even if his practice of evil is a little more blatant than mine.  It is only as I discipline myself in godliness (1 Tim. 4: 7), it is only as I practice myself in prayer, as I train myself to set my mind on things above, not things of the earth (Col. 3: 2), that I begin to become the kind of person whose mere presence influences others, influences others even without words.



It is famously reported that St. Seraphim of Sarov said that if you acquire the Holy Spirit, or the Peace of the Holy Spirit, a thousand around you will be saved.  He seems to be saying pretty much the same thing St. Isaac is saying.  St. Isaac tells us, “The silent deed has more power to reform other men than solicitous words of rebuke conjoined with a lax way of life.”  Deeds, when they proceed from a life of stillness and prayer, speak much more loudly than “words of rebuke” that proceed from someone who is lax in his or her own prayer and ascetic discipline.  Truly, who you are speaks much more loudly than what you say.



Let me end this blog with a word of caution.  Hearing St. Isaac’s exhortation to holiness for the sake of the salvation of our neighbour, one can easily begin to condemn oneself for laziness and negligence.  And although a certain amount of self condemnation for most people is probably a good thing, too much self condemnation usually comes from the arrogant heart of a person who thinks they should be able to do much more than they actually can do. St. Isaac points out earlier in this same homily that “If you compel your body when it is weak to labours that exceed its strength, you will heap darkness upon darkness on your soul and bring greater confusion upon her.”  We each have a level of spiritual discipline and ascetical life that is appropriate for us.  This level varies throughout our life as we grow spiritually and as our life circumstances change.  A spiritual father or mother can often help us find what practices and disciplines are appropriate for us.  Negligence and laxity are enemies on the one hand, but so too are over exertion and compelling ourselves when our bodies are weak.



We acquire the Grace, the Peace of the Holy Spirit not by working harder and harder.  Rather, we learn to attend to what is eternal, to what is life-giving, to what is beautiful and true and lovely not by destroying our bodies or forcing ourselves beyond our strength.  All growth in Christ in a gift.  It is freely bestowed.  Ours is merely to want such a gift.  Attention and discipline in the spiritual and ascetic life is how we express that we want such a gift.  The Grace of the Holy Spirit does not come as a reward for hard work—as our cultural myth of hard work seems to suggest.  No.  The Grace of the Holy Spirit comes as a gift to those who ask, to those who want to be transformed, to be changed, to experience the heavenly life even while still on this earth.  And the way we ask is by doing what we can, disciplining ourselves a little, praying a little, striving a little in prayer beseeching God to grant to us freely and graciously that spiritual life we could never earn, could never work hard enough to deserve.



May God help us to care for the bodily needs and to lovingly honour our neighbours, especially those we disagree with, and let us strive in appropriate measure to be diligent in our life of prayer and in our ascetic disciplines so that even without a word we may influence our neighbour to turn from what is evil to what is beautiful.

About
In “Praying in the Rain,”  Fr. Michael Gillis reflects on the inner life of Orthodox Christians. Drawing on the wisdom of both ancient and contemporary Church Fathers and Mothers, Fr. Michael ponders the struggles, the ironies, and the disciplines of the spiritual life. Written versions of many of Fr. Michael’s reflections can be found at his blog site.
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