Upcoming Book Review: Mountain of Silence

Dear Readers,

Earlier, I had planned to reproduce significant chunks of Kyriacos Markides's book, The Mountain of Silence, on this little blog of mine. I have abandoned this plan for two reasons: first, the book is no longer in my possession, as I have returned it to the friend who loaned it to me; second, on giving more thought to this plan, I realized that if I had written such a book, I would not want all of its best "gobbets" strewn about the blog of some arrogant blowhard who thought that all the rest of the book was worth less than one of the book's pages. In reality, the worthy portions of this book are much larger than mere "gobbets," and I would have been copying out a tremendous amount of the book's material had I followed my original "plan of attack." This veered too closely, in my mind, to a just-barely-legal form of plagiarism, for which I have a deeply conditioned disgust.

However, since I remember enough of the book's content to write about the book in a minimally intelligent fashion, I will shortly be posting a review of The Mountain of Silence on this blog instead of copying more out of it. Hopefully, this review will be useful to some people.

IC XC,

JLB

Restless Night

I find it hard to sleep this night.
It is quiet,
save for the electric hum of a laptop fan,
and the periodic footfalls of my siblings.

Yes, even now, this late.
I am not the only restless one.
Night is slowly crossing in into morning,
though it's there already, if you believe the clocks.

A vivid memory of eight years ago yesterday
is not what keeps me up tonight,
though you might think it should.
We've all forgotten, really, though we swore otherwise.

Let your yes be yes, and your no, no, lest your promises betray amnesia.
I speak as an amnesiac experienced beyond my years,
having forgotten God, obedience, righteousness, compassion, love,
all these matters of eternal weight, the height of glory, the depth of mercy.

I ask that you never forget me, though I forget you,
in prayer, in thought, in electronic correspondence,
please ask the Lord Christ that my heart remember all needful things.
May He who raises us up from death enlighten this dark amnesia of the nous.

If I Have Not Love...

I may wax eloquent in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew,
proclaiming Scriptural wonders seen through Apostolic eyes,
discerning the proofs of Nicea won in hard-fought, hard-thought debate;
but if I have not love, I am only a dust-laden wind
blown through dog-eared piles of old rolled reed-paper.

I may lift my voice with Cherubim and Seraphim,
hymning the Lord of Heaven with Archangels, Powers, Thrones,
joining the Saints in vocal, choral, Paschal Thanksgiving;
but if I have not love, I am the sound of clashing cymbals
jarring heart and soul away from blessed symphony.

I may muse movingly on the nature of unceasing prayer,
reciting countless passages from great lovers of beauty,
recounting miracles of glory and grace to earth descended;
but if I have not love, I am merely a sounding gong
usurping mystery with meaningless vibration.

Though I long to "speak in tongues of men and angels,"
Love enfleshed in Paschal sacrifice alone gives life.

Excerpts from Mountain of Silence, Pt. II

"There are lots of rumors circulating around about you, Father Maxime," Thomas said gravely . . . "I am speaking specifically about the case of Rosa. You see, I am a friend of the family. They feel hurt, particularly the father. Their complaint is that you did not prevent their daughter from becoming a nun and that you treated them harshly."

"Harshly?" Father Maximos reacted with surprise.

"That you accused her father of not being a good parent. Well, I came here to find out for myself what's going on. We are speaking openly and freely now, yes?"

"Of course, of course," Father Maximos reassured him.

"This is my question to you," Thomas continued with force in his voice as he fiddled with his worry beads. "This young woman, a university graduate and a trained architect, had made plans to go to America and finish her studies. But since the day she came in contact with you, she began to get oriented toward monasticism. Her parents and relatives feel that you have been a bad influence in her life. Were you in a position to prevent her from becoming a nun? Please forgive me for being so direct with you but I raise these concerns for the sake of clarity."

Father Maximos sighed . . . "Let's start from the beginning. How did I get to know Rosa? One of my tasks here at the monastery is to provide people the opportunity for confession. I have no idea who comes to see me. I don't know who they are, where they come from, what kind of job they hold. Often I don't even ask for their names. As a monk I avoid public appearances as much as I can and stay away from social gatherings. I do not accept invitations to private homes. My life is clearly monastic. Anyway, I saw Rosa only a few times. In fact, the first time she came for confession she was with her father. He even thanked me for having an audience with his daughter. They came for confession during a Saturday, when I see people all day long. When there are so many waiting for confession, I can only see each person for no more than ten minutes. In their case, I discovered later that her grandfather, who was a priest, was my own spiritual guide and confessor while I was a teenager at the Paphos gymnasium."

"I knew the late Father Kyrillos very well," Thomas said excitedly . . . "I remember," Father Maximos continued, "that Rosa had a lot of questions in her mind and wished to continue her studies in philosophy. At the same time a young man who came for confession told me that he wished to marry and that he was attracted to Rosa. . .The young man was too shy and I volunteered, with his permission, to mention it to Rosa so that they could go out and get to know each other. Now please do tell me Thomas, had I been interested in converting Rosa into a nun would I play the role of a matchmaker?" Father Maximos asked in earnest.

"Obviously not," Niki [Thomas's wife] rushed to interject as Thomas nodded reluctantly.

"Well, the two of them did go out together but it didn't work. The next time Rosa came for confession, she told me categorically that she was not interested in marriage. Her deepest yearning was to become a nun. 'Look Rosa,' I said, 'it is a very serious decision to abandon the world. You have no experience living in a monastery to know what such a life is all about.' She was working as an architect. I advised her to continue in her profession and wait for a year to see how she would feel by then. She agreed. But a few months later she came to announce that she had made up her mind to become a nun. Once again I advised her to wait a while longer in order to make sure that she truly wanted to spend the rest of her life in a monastery. She waited until Christmas. Then she came to me and said, 'Look Father Maxime, either you don't want me to enter a monastery here in Cyprus, in which case I will go to one in Greece, or there is some problem about myself that you just don't want to share with me.' "

"I told her that I had no right to order her not to become a nun just as I had no right to order her to become a nun. 'You are a grown woman of twenty-five,' I said to her, 'and just as you have the right to marry anyone you wish you also have the right to become a nun.' I urged her to discuss the matter with her parents . . . She did. They all came here including some other relatives. That was the day they claimed I did not treat them well. They were all together and started accusing me of being the cause of their daughter's decision to become a nun. Everything was up to me, they insisted, and [they] demanded that I should order Rosa to give up her plans to become a nun. I tried to explain to them in vain that it was impossible for me to do such a thing."

"Is monasticism the only way to God?" Thomas asked abruptly.

"Of course not," Father Maximos responded. "But it is one way."

"Excuse me for getting off the subject, but before we go any further can you please briefly tell me what monasticism is, according to you," Thomas asked . . . "According to Evagrius of Pontus, a desert father of the fourth century," Father Maximos continued, "monks are those people who have separated themselves geographically from everything and everybody and yet are invisibly connected with everything and everybody through prayer and the love of Christ. According to Saint Maximos the Confessor, monks are those people who have removed their minds from the world of material objects, and through continence, love, prayer, and chanting, they become totally focused on God. And another elder thought of monks as those who have nothing else in this life except Christ. This is what we try to do here."

Kyriacos Markides, The Mountain of Silence, pp. 26-28.

(The conversation will be continued in future posts. Stay tuned.-JLB)

Excerpts from Mountain of Silence, Pt. I

Father Maximos loved to tell stories about his spiritual master elder Paisios, the legendary hermit and contemporary saint of Mount Athos. . .as we walked for hours through rugged mountains to reach elder Paisios's hermitage, he shared some extraordinary tales. "Not long ago...I was there with him when a large number of pilgrims began to arrive. It was a very tiring day for old Paisios. At some point during the afternoon, he informed the last group of visitors, 'Fellows, it is time for you to leave. The nearest monastery is a very long walk away. If you don't hurry you will find the gates closed.' But someone in the group urgently wished to speak to him about a personal problem. 'Father,' he said, 'I would like to see you privately for a few minutes.' Old Paisios waved at him and said, 'Go on my son. Go with the others. It is late and I am very tired.' 'But Father, please!' the man implored him. 'I have something very serious to tell you.' 'Go my son, go. There is nothing to worry about.' The man insisted and old Paisios seemed impatient. 'For God's sake, go before the monastery closes its doors.' 'But Father, my wife is very ill. She is dying from cancer.' Father Paisios paused, placed his arm around the man, and gently reassured him, 'Go, my dear and have no fears. Your wife is fine.'

"That fellow looked very despondent," Father Maximos went on to say while we walked towards old Paisios's hermitage. "With a heavy heart he walked back to the monastery with the others, feeling that he had accomplished nothing. That his journey, coming all the way from Athens to remote Mount Athos, hundreds of miles away, was a waste of time. He had heard that elder Paisios was a holy man whose prayers and intercessions often cured people from serious illnesses. Now his last hope had evaporated.

"You can imagine his amazement and great delight when upon entering his home he found his wife walking about and looking surprisingly well," Father Maximos continued. . ."His wife claimed that while she was bedridden, a cold sweat took over her body and, after perspiring profusely, she felt completely healed. Her doctor later confirmed that her cancer had mysteriously and literally gotten washed away. Her husband asked about the time the perspiration and the changes in her condition began to happen and she replied that it was Friday at about four in the afternoon. When her husband heard that he felt a chill. That was the time when elder Paisios had reassured him that his wife was fine."

Father Maximos took a deep breath and stood for a few seconds, gazing at the sea below. He then mentioned that on Mount Athos such phenomena, instead of being surprising, are part of the everyday experience of the monks and hermits who choose to live there in a continuous state of prayer and contemplation.

"When human beings completely obliterate their own egotism and reach the state of Theosis, or union with God," Father Maximos explained. . ."then whatever they wish is what God wishes, and it is given. There is little separation between the individual ego and God, between the will of the perfected, Christified individual and the will of God. Such is the state of sainthood, the state that elder Paisios reached after his lifelong ascetical struggles. He freed himself of egotistical passions to such a degree...the he became a purified vessel through which the blessings and energies of the Holy Spirit were channeled." Before elder Paisios opened the door for us, Father Maximos hastened to clarify that a "Christified" human being continues to maintain a personal identity within that state of unity with God.

Kyriacos Markides, The Mountain of Silence pp. 9, 10.

Religious Argument (or, pearls before swine)

The Athonite monk was walking along and was greeted by a Greek young man who loudly demanded, "Give me one reason to believe in God!" The opportunity was golden, according to many. The Athonite was silent for a moment, then calmly answered, "No," and continued on his way.

-Source Unknown

From the Ochlophobist.