Tag: patristics

SURPRISED BY JOY: The Doctrine of Joy in the Works of Nikitas Stithatos

Philokalia, vol. 4, On the Inner Nature of Things and on the Purification of the Intellect

Dispersed through the austere examples of ascetic practice in Stithatos’ texts, there are abundant references to bright and even ecstatic joy.

Stithatos puts a special emphasis on joy, viewing it not as a fleeting emotion but as a profound, consistent spiritual state and one of the essential “fruits of the Holy Spirit.”

He describes several types of joy. For example:

The joy that stems from the practice of virtues: “When our intelligence is perfected through the practice of the virtues and is elevated through the knowledge and wisdom of the Spirit and by the divine fire, it is assimilated to these heavenly powers through the gifts of God, as by virtue of its purity it draws towards itself the particular characteristic of each of them.”

      • The joy of dispassion and unity. Shedding our attachments to the material world and its passions is the most essential step in the achievement of theosis. Additionally, Nikitas Stithatos describes a mystical, spiritual reality where the “world above” (the heavenly or noetic realm) awaits its completion and perfection through the spiritual attainment of human beings in the “lower world” (the physical, material world). Instead of being at war with, or separated from, “the world above,” we  view it “as yet incomplete.” We understand that the world “awaits its fulfilment from the first-born of Israel…”  but we also understand our role in this fulfillment which comes “from those who see God,” and “it receives  its completion from those who attain the knowledge of God.”
      • Joy found in the liturgical experience and hierarchical, and liturgical account of the nine heavenly powers.

      “The nine heavenly powers sing hymns of praise that have a threefold structure, as they stand in threefold rank before the Trinity, in awe celebrating their liturgy and glorifying God. Those who come first – immediately below Him who is the Source and Cause of all things and from whom they take their origin – are the initiators of the hymns and are named thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim.”

      • Theosis: The ultimate joy of inner peace. Joy is an “ineffable” and “incomprehensive happiness” that comes from detachment from worldly passions and the ensuing union with God. This is a core part of the final stage of spiritual life (theosis or deification).

      The desire to experience the “joy and sweetness of His presence” is presented as a driving force for achieving inner stillness, emphasizing that despondency is incompatible with the love of God. This state represents the culmination of the spiritual journey. 

      For those who with the support of the Spirit have entered the fullness of contemplation, a chalice of wine is made ready, and bread from a royal banquet is set before them. A throne is prepared for their repose and silver for their wealth.

      • The joy of hope. Even if we do not experience a state of theosis in this life, we should be comforted by the knowledge that the Kingdom of Heaven will open for us after death. Stithatos enters details of the actual physical process of dying and advises us to learn we should ask that our departure from this life may take place without fear.

      In summary, for Stithatos, joy is a central, essential element of the mature spiritual life, signifying the soul’s harmonious dwelling in God’s presence.

      BECOMING A TREE OF LIFE: Nikitas Stithatos

      Philokalia, vol. 4, On the Inner Nature of Things and on the Purification of the Intellect:

      Nikitas Stithatos paints a lyrical image of the state of theosis, that is, union with God:

      “When you have reached this state, you enter the peace of the Spirit that transcends every dauntless intellect (cf.Phil. 4 : 7) and through love you are united to God.”

      Getting there, however, is not a linear path.

      Pride for your spiritual achievements, for example, often creeps in, disrupting contemplation. The tranquility you achieved is shaken as you slip back into wanting to control, draw conclusions and make presumptions on your own. Such self-centered state of mind prevents you from seeing the inner nature of all things through God’s eyes.

      Stithatos makes clear that nothing remains static in this process of spiritual ascendance, including the role of the penitent.

      “God does not want us always to be humiliated by the passions and to be hunted down by them like hares, making Him alone our rock and refuge (cf. Ps. 1 04 : 1 8);”

      God, then, wants us to be in a cooperative relationship with him.

      Accordingly, simply resisting the passions is not enough for salvation. Nikitas Stithatos’s emphasis is on the transformation of passions into virtuous energies (rather than their mere annihilation).

      To better illustrate this point, he brings up the metaphor of a deer eating snakes (don’t look for scientific evidence here).

      “But He wants us to run as deer on the high mountains of His commandments (cf. Ps. 1 04 : 1 8. LXX), thirsting for the life creating waters of the Spirit ( cf. Ps. 42 : 1 ). For, they say, it is the deer’s nature to eat snakes; but by virtue of the heat they generate through being always on the move, they strangely transform the snakes’ poison into musk and it does them no harm. In a similar manner, when passion-imbued thoughts invade our mind, we should bring them into subjection through our ardent pursuit of God’s commandments and the power of the Spirit, and so transform them into the fragrant and salutary practice of virtue. In this way we can take every thought captive and make it obey Christ ( cf. 2 Cor. 1 o : 5).”

      The spiritual application follows the deer analogy:

      The Process of Transformation given by Stithatos

      • Invasion of Thoughts: “Passion-imbued thoughts” will inevitably enter the mind [1]. The goal is not necessarily to avoid these thoughts entirely, but to actively confront them.
      • Active Subjection: Through “ardent pursuit of God’s commandments and the power of the Spirit,” the negative thoughts are engaged and brought “into subjection” [1].
      • Spiritual Alchemy: The “poison” of the passion is not just neutralized; it is “transformed them into the fragrant and salutary practice of virtue” [1]. The energy of the passion, when channeled correctly through spiritual discipline, becomes something positive and holy (musk).

      Free will, then, is not passive but has agency of its own to discern,  edit, re-direct and transform.

      This “dynamic path” is a key feature of the broader Eastern Orthodox concept of theosis, which involves a synergistic process of human effort and divine grace.

      The state of passivity or action, surface or depth depends on the level of engagement we have with God.

      Simply disciplining the body is not sufficient for achieving theosis. It is literal and one-dimensional. Yet, “we are meant for more than we can literally imagine,” writes Stithatos. Remaining on the surface–Christians in name only– means that we are simply treading water and we will experience no progress:

      “A person who keeps turning round and round on the same spot and does not want to make any spiritual progress is like a mule that walks round and round a well-head operating a water-wheel.”

      Becoming one with God in every way is not achieved simply by adhering to technical details.

      In the book, Everywhere Present, by Stephen Freeman, the central metaphor is the contrast between a “two-storey” and a “one-storey” universe. The “two-storey” view, which Freeman argues is the prevailing mindset in secular society, relegates God and all spiritual matters to an unreachable “upstairs” realm. This effectively banishes God from everyday existence, making faith a distant, theoretical concept. The “one-storey universe,” in contrast, recognizes that God is “everywhere present and filling all things” in the here and now.

      This metaphor bears similarity to Stithatos’ contrast between passivity and total engagement, running in circles and ascending upwards.

      Freeman’s book advocates for a faith that changes how one perceives and interacts with the entire world and sees God’s presence in all things.  

      Stithatos’ path to theosis is similarly a transformative process by which a veil is lifted, and we can suddenly see the world around us with new eyes. We are able to discern God’s presence under the surface of even the most insignificant things and, hence, comprehend their true essence.

      But true devotion of soul attained through the spiritual knowledge of created things and of their immortal essences is as a tree of life within the spiritual activity of the intellect

      FROM DREAM TO REVELATION

      Nikitas Stithatos

      Philokalia, vol. 4, On the Inner Nature of Things and on the Purification of the Intellect:

      The understanding of dreams serves as an entry point for Stithatos’s broader mystical philosophy of theosis, the gradual process of becoming more like God. This transformation unfolds in three distinct stages: dreams, visions, and revelations.

      1. Dreams: The First Step of Purification
      • There is a direct correlation between who we are and what we dream. If we are attached to material things, for example, we will dream of possessions. If we are addicted to praise and success, we may dream of ourselves in powerful positions, dominating others and being admired.
      • A virtuous life produces peaceful dreams. We rise from bed filled with  peace, gratitude and the living presence of God
      • However, Stithatos notes that even these purified dreams are imperfect. They are produced by the “image-forming faculty of the intellect,” which is mutable and thus unreliable.

      2. Visions: Beyond the “Image-Forming Intellect”

      • Moving beyond dreams, the soul can experience visions. Unlike the fleeting images of dreams, visions are constant and unchanging, leaving an unforgettable imprint on the intellect.
      • These visions reveal future events, inspire the soul with awe and engender a sense of repentance.

      3. Revelations: Union with the Divine

      • The final, and most advanced, spiritual stage is that of revelations. With a purified and illuminated soul, an individual can transcend ordinary sense perception and understanding.
      • It is like a veil has been lifted and we can perceive the true, inner essence of things that lie beneath the surface. We are no longer separated from God,  so we are whole and free from struggle, conflict and contradiction. We have advanced beyond words and images to become God-like and perceive His hidden mysteries. Everything now makes sense, and  we understand the ultimate purpose of all things, and our own role in God’s creation.

      Stillness as the path to Theosis

      Those who achieve visions and revelations are no longer troubled by everyday anxieties and concerns. This allows them to achieve a state of inner stillness, which is a prerequisite for theosis.

      Reaching this state of stillness requires restraint, conquering our will and triumphing  over our own impulses. The path of the monk or nun—involving fasting, poverty, and other forms of ascetic discipline — is one example of a complete surrender of the passions. For modern readers, asceticism can seem unrealistic or off-putting, but its core principle is highly relevant: gaining control over our passions and “addictions” rather than being controlled by them, and achiving inner peace.

      Without restraint, our will to succeed, possess, indulge, gain status, receive praise and approval, control or defeat drives us.  

      We use external things to quell our inner fears and anxieties: we abuse substances, become workaholics, become dependent on others’ approval, and chase success at all costs. We sacrifice inner peace and contentment for perceived material success, becoming addicted to external gains and desires.

      In this state, Stithatos writes, our true, God-given soul is “disordered” and at war with itself, unable to receive divine grace.

      A passionate soul, like a leaf in the wind, is unstable. It is elated by praise and success but devastated by criticism and failure. Stillness is the antithesis of this instability. It is “an undisturbed state of the intellect, the calm of a free and joyful soul.”

       In stillness, however, since our contentment is no longer dependent on external factors, we experience an “unwavering stability of the heart in God.”

      The Result of Stillness
      Freed from the inner battle, our perception becomes clear. We can ascend from contemplating visible things to a profound apprehension of the divine, eventually transcending images, words, and thoughts to achieve complete union with God. The pure intellect, having internalized divine principles, then reflects God’s wisdom, uncovering the deeper mysteries of creation.

      Starting with dreams of things visible we ascend to the ever-increasing apprehension of things until we reach beyond images, words and thoughts to become united with God.

      When the intellect has interiorized these principles and revelations and made them part of its own nature, then it will elucidate the profundities of the Spirit to all who possess God’s Spirit within themselves, exposing the guile of the demons and expounding the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven.

      St. Basil of Caesarea:How to Live a Life of Gratitude

      From his homily “On the Martyr Julitta (and on Giving Thanks) in the book On Fasting and Feasts

      Is it possible to be always grateful, and “give thanks in all circumstances’’ even in the face of pain, loss and even death?

      St. Basil’s answer is a resounding yes. A constant state of gratitude is in fact our path to salvation and union with God. He begins this homily with a tribute to St. Julitta.

      St. Julitta, we are told, had a lawsuit against a powerful and greedy man who had robbed her of her considerable property. Because of a corrupt court that sided with her opponent, St. Julitta lost the lawsuit. Yet St. Basil declares her the real winner of this case as the spiritual battle she waged was far more important than the loss of physical property.

      On the material level, St. Julitta stood her ground during the trial and refused to be intimidated by her opponent and the biased judge. She eloquently presented her case and brought tangible and undeniable evidence of the violence and injustice done to her. Yet the court ordered that the young woman would not only lose her property but also her very life because she boldly refuted the false claims and refused to renounce Christ.

      Instead of despairing, however, St. Julitta embraced her legal defeat as a spiritual victory and an opportunity for salvation. Instead of cowering in fear, she eagerly and joyfully jumped into the flames of the fire that was to burn her alive.

      This is why St. Basil concludes that, while she has a woman’s body, she has the  courage and spirit of a man. He means that her moral strength and courage had defied any biological or cultural category and rendered hollow the decisions of legal authorities.

      Why is Basil using Julitta’s story as the jumping point to a homily of gratitude?

      In a life of continuous prayer, he says, you “do everything for the glory of God.”  This means that everything—pleasant or unpleasant, satisfactory or painful, expected or unexpected—can be a window to the glory of God and a vehicle for experiencing it. St. Julitta discerned God’s glory in the pain of her martyrdom.

      Everything contains a pointer to God’s glory and, hence, can become a source of gratitude, he tells us.

      “But the Apostle says: ‘Give thanks in all circumstances.’ ”

      Yet St. Basil asks the question most of us would ask: How is it possible to maintain gratitude in the face of soul-crushing circumstances, untold acts of violence, loss and deprivation?

      It is a difficult task to convince a widow or mother of a dead child that even when finding themselves in such circumstances, they can dig deeper, beyond the pain, and still perceive the glory of God and believe in His purpose.

      He proceeds gently but steadily.

      First, there is an implicit distinction in his homily between grief and despair. In Orthodox Christianity one faces grief head-on, without sugar-coating it or suppressing it, yet without being subsumed by it. One example is the lamentations of the Virgin in the Holy Friday hymnology which, following the secular oral poetic traditions, freely express pain, disbelief and even anger toward the departed.   

      The Church doesn’t hurry past the passion of Christ to the Resurrection. It celebrates each day or even hour of his passion, it lingers on every wound and humiliation suffered by Christ, and allows us to experience the physicality of pain. In the same vein, the hymnology of funeral services also faces openly and directly the physical toll of death on the departed and the deep pain of the mourners.

      Grief, however, does not relinquish hope, as despair does. Unlike despair, it does not explode into anger, bitterness and hatred, all of which would prevent comfort, reconciliation and even gratitude.

      Secondly, the key to gratitude is acceptance of God’s will and freedom from your own set expectations. This means renunciation of control over your and others’ lives.  

      In today’s business terms, willingness to abandon set plans and expectations and openness to embracing a radically new direction, is called “pivoting.” The leadership of an organization, for example, recognizes that their original plan is not bringing desired results. Instead of clinging to their initial expectations and plans, they “pivot”—reframe their position and value proposition and dramatically change strategy and direction.

      Acceptance is clearly not passivity. St. Julitta fought a hard fight against the injustice done to her. Yet, accepting that the result was not within her control, she transformed defeat into victory.

      “Why not let ourselves yield entirely to the action of such a wise master rather than complaining when we are robbed as if it is our property, and pitying the dead as if they have suffered some great disaster” rather then being “returned” to God, St. Basil asks.

      Acceptance and freedom from your own script for life bring about inner peace and the defeat of fear.

      “Proceed with this principle as a guide for your soul , a guard over every thought , so that you cannot be shaken by what happens in life; instead, your mind will be like a rock in the sea, one that endures the wind and waves without moving.”

       This is what St. Julitta did and why her example prefaces a homily on living a life of perpetual gratitude.

      But let us not grieve for what we do not have. Let us learn to give thanks for the present…