A reckless spiritual experience
In Roica, among the limestone cliffs, caves, and rocks, I experienced a profound spiritual encounter that I dare to share, hoping to draw the attention of those who have withdrawn from the world and to emphasize the vital importance of hierarchical obedience and the necessity of the blessing in every spiritual act undertaken on the ascent to enlightenment and perfection—especially regarding the discovery of thoughts directed toward one’s confessor or a brother in faith.
All the efforts we made in the cells to master the prayer of the heart were limited by the difficulty of descending from the mind to the heart. The technique was known to us from the teachings of St. Gregory Palamas, St. Theodore the Studite, and from what Anghel Papacioc had gathered from the monks with whom he came into contact. It begins with a whispered utterance, first with the mouth, then through the tongue, descending to the throat and finally reaching the heart. The invocation is recited either in the rhythm of the saccadic pulse: Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, etc., or synchronized with the breath—on inspiration: Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, and on exhalation: have mercy on me, the sinner. The icon of the Sacrifice of the Redeemer on the Cross, the spiritual food of contemplation for those worthy of divine attention, becomes the light of life, unaltered by any material image.
Yet the effort to penetrate the depths of being with the call of Christ’s name was often blocked by an inexplicable helplessness. Almost none of us who engaged in this prayer were satisfied. The conditions of prison, with their sudden noises, moments of instability, and periods of spiritual disturbance, seemed to prevent the fulfilment of our desire despite all preparatory efforts.
In the mountains, I now had natural conditions for this pursuit and wanted to experience the joy of fully surrendering to Christ, both mind and heart. I chose a cave where there were no external disturbances. I asked God to grant me a few moments of total immersion in prayer. Having calmed my soul with preliminary prayers, I knelt and began a series of invocations: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner, in rhythm with my breath, controlling my senses through the movements of metania. I soon lost track of time. The silence became oppressive; I no longer knew how long I had been there or even where I was. I sensed danger, abandoned both materially and spiritually. I could no longer rely on myself. Everything pressed upon me until, with the last ounce of my desperate strength, I emerged from the cave and fell to my knees in the blinding sunlight.
Only then did I catch my breath, as after a long run or a near-drowning. I tried to analyze what had happened within my soul, mind, spirit, emotions, and entire being. God helped me understand: every spiritual experience of this magnitude must be undertaken with the revelation of one’s thoughts to the confessor.
With the confessor’s consent and under his guidance, one receives the blessing for the beginning of the spiritual exercise, during which the confessor also prays for the aspirant. Furthermore, the place and time of the practice must be disclosed to the confessor or a brother in faith, who supervises the endeavor. Fasting, prayer, and other ascetic practices are necessary, but without these three conditions, anyone seeking to ascend spiritually will find the path incomplete; even a small missing link in this spiritual apparatus prevents the edifice from being realized.
Although I had confessed to the confessor, received a dispensation, and obtained a blessing, I had not revealed to my brother in faith (Delu) the intention and location of my retreat. Left to the forces of my own confidence, my soul was terrified by its boldness. Without support, it recoiled; the body, bound by senses to material reality, drew the soul back from eternity into the temporal, sealing a transient death while the soul was drawn into the world of wickedness against its will. Only after the death of the body does the soul become fully independent; until then, the body-soul exists as a unique human condition.
On the way down, I met Delu:
– Where have you been?
– I tried something, and I was wrong.
I recounted my experience. He smiled and shook his head:
– This is not mere carelessness; it is audacity beyond measure.
Zeal for the faith and the desire to be near God are not enough; one must also possess the discipline to follow the rules of obedience prescribed by the holy Fathers, who, through prudent study and constant invocation of divine grace, achieved high stages of conversion. St. Paul reminds us: It is not enough to have desires; one must also have understanding. The art of spiritual life lies in revealing your thoughts to your confessor or a brother in faith, so that you do not self-justify and thereby expose yourself to the evil one, who seeks to bring you to death.
When we speak of a monk, hermit, or anchorite, we must not imagine they are detached from their spiritual community. Just as a mountain peak is supported by a massif, the pillars of light within the Church—great saints—are bound by obedience to the spiritual community, especially to the hierarchy of grace. Without this, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, would be merely a mass of mortal bodies, perishable and incapable of transfiguration.
No sectarian community assimilates the divine energies of Holy Communion with the Body and Blood of Christ. Instead, many go so far as to legislate against moral decay—sodomy, debauchery, fornication, incest—as if these vices were societal virtues. Even international relations are increasingly conditioned by the legal acceptance of such sins. This degradation of the spirit arises from disobedience, from a lack of graceful alignment with Christ and His ordained servants.
(Virgil Maxim – Hymn for the Cross Carried)