The Magdalene Mystique - The Path Inward

I came across this story this morning from Being Still: Reflections on an Ancient Mystical Tradition, by Jean-Yves Leloup, translated by M.S. Laird, O.S.A. (Paulist PRess, 2003, 1-2). Some of you may remember Leloup’s excellent book on the Gospel of Mary and his other books that take us from the West to the East. I love the idea of learning to meditate like a mountain and would like to hear what that might mean to you. Thanks for your patience in my lack of recent postings. I hope this will be a beginning again of our conversations.

Here is the story:

“When Mr. X, a young French philosopher, arrived on Mount Athos he had already read a number of books on Orthodox spirituality, including Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart and The Way of a Pilgrim. He had been seduced without really being convinced. A single liturgy at rue Daru in Paris had inspired him to spend a few days on Mount Athos when he was on holiday in Greece. He hoped to learn a bit more about prayer and, in particular, the method of prayer practiced by those silent men in search of hesychasm, or interior peace.

This young man had read many books on meditation and prayer, but he had never really prayed or meditated before. He was looking for not one more lecture on prayer or meditation, but an initiation which would allow him to live prayer and to know it from within, by experience and not just by hearsay.

It would take too long to tell how he came to meet Fr. Seraphim, a monk who lived in a hermitage near Saint Panteleimon (which the Greeks call the Roussikon). Suffice it to say that on Mount Athos the young philosopher was a little wary. He did not find the monks up to the level of his books.

Fr. Seraphim had an ambiguous reputation among his circle of monks. Some accused him of levitating, others of barking. Some considered him an ignorant peasant, others a true staretz, inspired by the Holy Spirit and capable of giving profound advice and reading the secrets of the heart.

When anyone arrived at the door of his hermitage, Fr. Seraphim had the custom of observing the visitor in a most insolent way from heard to foot, for five long minutes, without saying a word. Those who were not put off by this sort of examination would then undergo the monk’s biting evaluation. ‘You! [She/He] hasn’t descended beneath your chin.’ ‘You! Let’s not talk about it, [She/He] hasn’t even come into you.’ ‘You! How marvelous! [She/He’s] got right down to your knees!’

Of course he was speaking of the Holy Spirit’s descent. In this way, he assessed the holiness of a visitor according to the degree of incarnation of the Spirit. The perfect person, the transfigured person, was inhabited by the Holy Spirit from head to toe. “I’ve only seen that once. That was staretz Silouan. He was truly a man [human] of God, full of humility and majesty.’

The young philosopher was not quite there yet. The Holy Spirit had stopped at his chin. When he asked Fr. Seraphm to tell him something about prayer of the heart and about pure prayer according to Evagrius Ponticus, the old monk began to shout. This did not discourage the young man. He insisted. So Fr. Seraphim said, “Before I talk about prayer of the heart, first learn how to meditate like a mountain.’ And he showed him an enormous rock. “Ask it how it goes about praying, Then come back to me.’ ”