Română
In this audio recording, St. Sophrony the Athonite (+July 11, 1993) addresses his monastic brotherhood, reflecting on how the Absolute Being—God Himself—took on a relative form of existence, and how we, in our earthly bodies, can bear divine power.
Essex Monastery, September 30th, 1991
English translation adapted after the Romanian version of Fr. Rafail Noica, Cuvantari Duhovnicesti I (17).
St. Sophrony:
When we seek to know God, a question arises: how is it possible for the Absolute Being to assume this relative form of existence? And, at the same time, how can we, born in this earthly body, become bearers of divine power? If we attempt to reflect on this, at every step, we encounter the insufficiency of our intellect to answer such questions. Yet, these questions find their resolution in life itself. We are still in the period of creation, as the Lord said: “My Father is working until now, and I am working” (John 5:17). The “work” of God, the One who saves the world, is not yet fully complete (cf. John 4:34, 17:4).
Our nature is created in the image of the beginningless Absolute, who declares: “I AM THAT I AM,” meaning, “Being is Me, and there is nothing apart from Me.” If God speaks of Himself as “I,” it signifies that He is a Person. How does this Revelation reflect in us? How does it manifest in our daily lives? How can we become persons like God? When we live attentively, we continually stand before mysteries that are yet to be revealed to us. However, through the very effort to live by the commandments of Christ-God, we come to understand that no one has ever given us anything more perfect.
Once again, my thoughts return to our father, St. Silouan. He writes that when we do not understand the ways of God, we still say to Him: “Thy will be done.” Thus, in this earthly life, full of suffering, pain, death, and darkness, when we surrender to His will, which we do not yet comprehend, the grace of the Holy Spirit comes upon us, and we come to know God as a Father—the dearest and closest of all.
Therefore, this is not a matter of logical resolution but of the experience of being itself. If we are created in His image and likeness, it means that an endless Kingdom has been prepared for us. In great suffering, the Christian completes their journey. On earth, Christ does not seek to crush others with His power (cf. Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45) but takes upon Himself their infirmities. The Christianity we, as Orthodox, live is indeed one of pure suffering. Yet, within this suffering, a golden thread of the finest intuition—our kinship with the beginningless God—somehow finds its way.
Thus, the creation of man is not yet complete. Perhaps it finds its fulfillment in the experience of the saints, like St. Silouan. He says that we live God as a Father—the dearest, the most intimate. This reality is exceedingly difficult to express in human words. Divine Being is impassible. But how does this “illness of love” touch us? Christ said: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13)—for others. This is the path to becoming a person like the Person of the incarnate Son of God. Yet, what Christ thought on earth, the reactions we see in Him, the entire structure of His thoughts and feelings—we long to adopt, but we cannot, because it is too painful for us.
Spiritual perception in the Christian life is profoundly deep and ineffably subtle. Strictly speaking, we do not grasp the love of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit with our intellect. Human language, born within creation, is incapable of adequately expressing it. But when we truly believe in Christ, the Holy Spirit dwells in us, and somewhere deep within, a most delicate intuition reveals to us: this is God, this is our Father. Words cannot convey this; we must “enter” into this state. And we “enter” when God Himself comes and dwells within us—immeasurably great and mighty, yet immeasurably humble.
As our father, St. Silouan, says, there is an ascetic humility: we live and feel ourselves unable to fulfill the commandments, begin to despise ourselves, and say, “I am worse than all.” And this is already humility. “But,” St. Silouan says, “there is another kind of humility—that of Christ. It is absolute; it is without comparison or distinction—without any relation to anything else. This is the absolute humility of God.” And when this divine humility touches us, our joy no longer comes from the power to crush our brother but from love for our brother, which becomes the essence of our life. A strange sense of spiritual “sweetness” arises—a divine sweetness from feeling oneself lesser than others and from not desiring dominion. This is the divine humility about which St. Silouan says: “It is inexpressible,” for when expressed in our human language, it becomes contradictory.
What should we do in the state in which we now find ourselves? We must continue patiently learning the life of Christ in His self-emptying. And then the answer will come—not in words, but in being itself—because a person must come, in Christ, to the state where they can say: “Now, in You and through You, I am.” Then the eternal plan is fulfilled in us: we become like the One who said, “I AM THAT I AM.” [Exodus 3:14] And the person, too, says, “I am.”
Why do we speak of this life, which surpasses the “average” level of Christianity? Because we need to know to what we are called. This is the essence of monasticism. By keeping the commandments of Christ, we make ourselves capable of receiving the very energy of Divinity—grace.
