No Longer Ourselves

Mercy and Humility as the Revelation of Who We Have Become in Christ

Synopsis of Tonight’s Group on The Ascetical Homilies of St. Isaac the Syrian - Homily 6 paragraphs 9-10

St. Isaac is not describing admirable behaviors. He is naming a different kind of human being.

Mercy, humility, and almsgiving are not virtues added to an otherwise intact self. They are the outward signs that the old self has already begun to die. What St. Isaac exposes is not how difficult mercy is, but how incompatible it is with the identity most of us still inhabit.

To endure injustice patiently is not an act of moral endurance. It reveals where a person now lives. The one who still derives himself from possession, reputation, or control must be troubled by loss. He cannot help it. Injury threatens his very sense of being. But the one who has been reborn in Christ no longer draws life from what he owns or from what is said about him. His center has shifted. His life is hidden elsewhere. That is why St. Isaac speaks with such severity. If loss disturbs you inwardly or if you feel compelled to tell others what was taken from you, then mercy has not yet reached exactness. The self that requires vindication is still alive.

The same truth governs humility. St. Isaac does not describe humility as thinking poorly of oneself or rehearsing faults. He describes it as freedom from the need to be justified at all. The truly humble man does not argue with accusation. He does not rush to clarify himself. He does not try to persuade others that he has been misjudged. He accepts slander as truth not because the accusation is factual but because his identity no longer depends upon recognition in this age. He begs forgiveness not because he is guilty but because Christ has released him from the tyranny of innocence.

This is why the examples St. Isaac offers are so severe. They are meant to break our assumptions. These saints did not merely endure misunderstanding. They entered it. They allowed themselves to be named wrongly. They accepted reputations that contradicted their inner purity. Some even clothed themselves in madness so that virtue would remain hidden. They did this not out of self contempt but out of clarity. Praise had become dangerous to them. Visibility threatened to awaken a self they had already buried.

This is not spiritual theater. It is the logic of the Incarnation carried through to its end. Christ did not merely endure false accusation. He accepted it as the path of revelation. He did not correct the narrative. He did not defend Himself. He allowed Himself to be named wrongly so that His true identity would be revealed not by explanation but by self offering. Those who live this way are not imitating a moral example. They are sharing His life.

The figure of Elisha makes this unmistakable. Power and mercy dwell in the same man. Elisha had the authority to destroy his enemies and St. Isaac insists on this point. Mercy is not weakness. It is strength transfigured. The man who feeds his enemies instead of destroying them does so not because he lacks power but because power no longer rules him. Mercy reveals what kind of being he has become. He acts from God rather than from self preservation.

What is at stake here is identity. St. Isaac is asking a question that allows no evasion. From where do you live. From the need to be right. From the need to be seen correctly. From the hope that truth will be acknowledged and justice rendered in this age. Or from the hidden life of Christ where nothing must be defended because everything has already been given away.

These paragraphs do not invite balance or moderation. They announce a death and a birth. Either we remain the kind of people who must protect ourselves from injustice or we become the kind of people for whom injustice no longer defines reality. Either we still live as those who need our names preserved or we have become those whose true name is known only to God.