The Math Of The Heart

St. Isaac says that lower spiritual beings and realities cannot see higher ones: “Every thing that is above another is concealed from that which is beneath it.”  This principal applies pretty consistently across all nonphysical reality.  

Take mathematics for example.  I know there is such a thing as calculus, but calculus is only squiggles on a page to me--I barely made it through second year algebra.  The lower cannot see the higher.  Or take a virtue like loyalty.  Someone who has only known selfishness cannot see or even conceive that someone else might serve, care for or protect another for no selfish reason, for no reason other than loyalty.

In our spiritual life, humility is the central virtue not only because God Himself is the most humble, but also because we cannot see where we are going, or better, where we are growing.  “It has not yet been revealed what we shall be,” the Apostle says.  The lower things will always make more sense to us because we know them already.  To ascend to the higher things, we must be led, be taught, be enlightened.

And patience is also necessary.  Patience with ourselves, when we just don’t see it.  And faith in those who do. In a sense growth in our relationship with God is a great deal like junior high school math class--at least my experience in junior high math.  I had to have faith in my teacher, faith that the concept she was presenting did indeed make sense--if I could only just “get it.”  I had to trust and keep looking at it and following the awkward external rubrics.  The smart kids in class (like the saints) would get it first, giving me hope that indeed there was something to get--the teacher was not just tormenting us.  I would continue working the rubrics, doing by rote what I was told to do.  Again and again I would work the problems, trying not to be frustrated, paying attention, looking, working and waiting.  And then a light.  Usually not a bright one.  I would see a little.  It would make a little sense.  Then as I paid attention working more problems, connections formed, the light got brighter.  “Now I get it….”

And just about the time I got it, we were moving on to something new.  So it is in our life with God.  We are being led to a higher reality, a higher knowledge, a higher way of knowing.  The rubrics, often awkward, are the prayers and rites and traditions.  These help us, help us get it.  Or really, help us get Him, Him who has been there all along, leading us out of the darkness of a merely mechanical, physical existence, into the Light of the knowledge of God.

Troublemakers Anonymous

Even if your are not a peacemaker, at least do not be a troublemaker.

Even if you cannot eradicate evil from your heart, do not let it out of your mouth.

St. Isaac the Syrian

We are all weak and broken in various ways. Yet we do not have to let our brokenness become an excuse to sin more, to create more brokenness. We may not be able to heal a broken relationship, but we don't have to make it worse by picking at it, talking about it in disparaging ways, or by blaming, accusing and fault finding. We may not be able to stop vain or unworthy thoughts from entering our minds, but we do not have to let them out of our mouths. Telling the truth is not saying what I think (which is often merely stupidity). Honesty is saying what is true, good and beautiful, even if my mind does not grasp it fully. Speaking the truth is remaining silent when when I have nothing edifying to say. Speaking the truth is to say what is true in Christ even if that reality has not yet been manifest.

Love bears all things, believes [in spite of] all things, hopes [in God despite] all things, endures all things, St. Paul says to the Corinthians. We too, who have the young plants of love planted in our hearts, must learn to love. That is, the love in our hearts must pass into our words and actions. Or you might say that we must learn to turn the noun of love in our hearts into the verb of love in our deeds. But this is something we learn. Our hearts not only have little seedlings of love. Sin has also planted poisonous plants in the garden of our heart. The spiritual labor of prayer, holy reading and silence helps us to discern the plants in our garden. We nurture the good and turn away from the evil.  

As we make our way through the broken world, we can become precious vessels of the Holy Spirit, peacemakers, bearers of Light and doers of Good. But this does not happen automatically. We have both nourishing and poisonous plants in the garden of our hearts.  We must learn to discern, learn to be quiet, learn to "seek peace and pursue it." This often requires us beginners to speak less, and sometimes not at all. When our words stir up and agitate the situation, we should keep them to ourselves--no matter how "true" they seem to be: for only a little bit of arsenic in a lot of good soup will kill those who eat it. Peace is our guide; "Blessed are the peacemakers."  And, of course, even if we cannot make peace, as St. Isaac says, at least we can be quiet and keep from becoming trouble makers.