PHILOKALIA MINISTRIES

The Music That Remains “If a man used to singing to the accompaniment of a harp finds the harp broken, and its strings undone… he puts it aside and instead of calling for its notes he delights himself with his own voice.” — St. Ambrose of Milan, Jacob and the Happy Life There is a story told of a musician who breaks a string in the midst of a performance. He does not stop. He adjusts his hand. He changes the fingering. He continues to play. And those who hear him discover tha

On the Holy Poverty of a Life That Has Not Taken Shape “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was to go.” — Hebrews 11:8 There is a peculiar temptation that comes when a life begins to fall apart. We immediately begin trying to understand what God is building from the ruins. Something has ended, and almost before we have allowed ourselves to grieve it, we ask what is beg

The good way may not be another path forward, but the ancient poverty of standing before God without needing to become anything “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.” — Jeremiah 6:16 There is something easily overlooked in Jeremiah’s words. Before the walking comes the standing. Stand by the roads, and look. We are often too frightened to do this. When one road ends, we immediately se

The surrender beneath every true turning toward God “Shew me, O Lord, thy ways, and teach me thy paths.” — Psalm 24:4 There are moments in the spiritual life when even the desire to know God’s will must be purified. We ask Him to lead us. But often what we mean is: Show me where this is going. Tell me what my life will become. Give me a form I can recognize. Let me know what I will be called. Show me enough of the road that I can consent without fear. We call this discernment

There comes a time when asking again is no longer humility “Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.” — 1 Samuel 3:9 The desert fathers feared self-will. They knew how easily a man could call his desire the will of God. So they taught him to wait. To pray. To seek counsel. To accept contradiction. To distrust the thought that arrived with urgency and demanded immediate obedience. They taught him not to believe himself too quickly. But they also knew another danger. A man can refu

The desert begins when even the voices that once sustained us fall silent “O God, do not abandon me. I have done nothing good in Your sight, but according to Your goodness, let me now make a beginning.” — Abba Arsenius There comes a loneliness that is not cured by company. It comes when the voices that once steadied us grow quiet. A spiritual father does not answer. A friend does not understand. A community no longer knows what to do with us. Those who once seemed able to rec

A return to prayer, the Fathers, and the life of the heart After a brief time of quiet, Philokalia Ministries will resume our gatherings in October. Sometimes it is necessary to step away for a little while—not simply to rest, but to remember why we began. Our purpose remains very simple: to sit together at the feet of the Fathers, to listen attentively to the wisdom born of prayer and struggle, and to allow their words to lead us more deeply into the mystery of Christ. We wi

Abba Arsenius and the disciple “Learn where there is wisdom, where there is strength, where there is understanding; that you may know also where there is length of days and life, where there is light of the eyes and peace.” — Baruch 3:14 A brother came to Abba Arsenius and said: Disciple: Abba, I have come seeking wisdom. Arsenius: Why? Disciple: So that I may know what to do. The old man was silent. The brother waited. He had walked many days to hear a word from Arsenius, an

The hope that does not depend upon what happens next “This hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.” — Romans 5:5 There is a hope that belongs to this world. We hope that circumstances will improve. That illness will pass. That those we love will remain with us. That misunderstandings will be resolved. That doors will open. That the future will eventually reveal some hidden coherence and allow us to say, Now I un

The obedience of casting the net when we no longer understand what God intends to gather “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” — Luke 5:5 There is something almost painfully human in Peter’s words. We toiled all night and took nothing. He is not refusing Christ. He is tired. He has already done what he knows how to do. He has worked through the darkness. He has cast the nets where fishermen cast them, at the hour fishermen

Courage is born when the heart ceases to demand that the world make God trustworthy “The essence of Christ’s peace lies in his perfect knowledge of the Father.” — St. Sophrony of Essex, His Life Is Mine There comes a point in the spiritual life when peace can no longer mean that things have been resolved. Perhaps this is one of the most difficult truths we ever learn. For much of our lives, we imagine peace as the fruit of circumstances finally coming into order. A door opens

When the monastic heart ceases to be an idea and becomes the place where one must live “Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.” — Abba Moses For years I have spoken of the monastic heart as something universal. I have insisted that the desert does not belong only to monks, that hesychia is not the possession of those behind monastery walls, and that the summons to purity of heart is nothing other than the Gospel addressed to every human being. The monk

Beyond trusting God to having nothing but God “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD.” — Jeremiah 17:7 There is a difference between trusting in the Lord and having the Lord as our trust. The difference is almost imperceptible at first. Yet it may contain the whole spiritual life. We often say that we trust God when what we mean is that we trust Him for something. We trust Him to guide us. To protect us. To heal what is wounded. To resolve what is

Wadi Natrun and the memory of a desire that had never disappeared “As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God.” — Psalm 42:1 When I went on pilgrimage to the monasteries of Wadi Natrun in 1997, I carried with me, inevitably, a certain romanticism about the desert. How could one not? These were the places whose names had inhabited my imagination through the sayings and lives of the Fathers. Scetis. The desert of Macarius. The land of Abba Arsenius,