Remain in the Silence

A word between Abba Arsenios and a disciple on uncertainty, solitude, and the hidden work of God

“Flee, be silent, pray always.”

Abba Arsenios

⸻

A brother came to Abba Arsenios and said:

“Father, I am troubled in my heart. For many years I lived in great activity. There was much work, much responsibility, and not a little conflict. My life was full and demanding, and I believed I was serving God in all of it.

But now I find myself drawn into silence and solitude. My days have become quiet. The demands have lessened. And yet, even though I see the hand of God in how all this has come about, I still question myself.

At times I wonder if I have withdrawn. If I have abandoned something I should still be carrying. If this movement into solitude is true or if it is a deception.

What am I to do with this uncertainty?”

The old man was silent for a long time. Then he said:

“You have not yet learned how to stand before God without your works.”

The brother said, “What do you mean, Father?”

Abba Arsenios said:

“For many years you loved God through labor. You endured. You carried burdens. You gave yourself in the midst of difficulty. This was not false. It was accepted by God.

But now He has taken from you the form of that offering.

And you do not yet know how to love Him without it.”

The brother bowed his head and said, “Then is my questioning a sign that I have gone astray?”

The old man said:

“No.

It is a sign that something in you is dying.

And something else has not yet fully been born.”

The brother said, “But Father, I fear that I am deceiving myself. That I am simply seeking rest after many years of labor.”

Abba Arsenios said:

“If you were seeking rest, you would not be troubled.

The man who seeks comfort does not question himself in this way. He justifies himself.

But you stand in doubt because you no longer have anything to justify yourself with.”

The brother was silent.

The old man continued:

“In the life you had before, you could measure yourself. You could say, I have done this, I have endured that, I have remained faithful here.

Now you have nothing to measure.

And so you do not know what you are.”

The brother said quietly, “Yes, Father. That is exactly how it feels.”

Abba Arsenios said:

“This is the beginning of truth.

Do not flee from it.”

The brother said, “But how do I know if this solitude is from God?”

The old man said:

“Do not look for certainty in your thoughts.

Look at what this silence is doing to your heart.”

The brother said nothing.

The old man continued:

“Has your heart become simpler?

Do you find less desire to contend with others?

Are you more able to remain in prayer, even without words?

Do you feel less need to justify yourself?

Even in your weakness, do you find yourself turning toward God rather than away from Him?”

The brother said, “Yes, Father. But only in a small way.”

Abba Arsenios said:

“God works in small ways.

The enemy works in grand ones.”

The brother lifted his head.

“Then what am I to do with the questioning?”

The old man said:

“Bring it into the silence.

Do not answer it.

Do not try to resolve it.

Stand before God with it.”

The brother said, “Should I not seek clarity?”

Abba Arsenios said:

“Clarity that comes too quickly is rarely from God.

He is teaching you to remain without seeing.”

The brother said, “And if this path is not from Him?”

The old man said:

“If you desire Him more than you desire the path, He will not allow you to be deceived.”

The brother began to weep.

“Father, I do not know how to live this way.”

Abba Arsenios said:

“You do not need to know.

You need to remain.”

The brother said, “Remain how?”

The old man said:

“As you are.

In the place where God has put you.

Without returning to what has passed.

Without grasping at what has not yet been given.”

The brother asked, “And the silence?”

The old man said:

“Keep it.

Guard it.

Not as something you possess, but as something given to you.

Do not fill it.

Do not defend it.

Let it teach you.”

The brother said, “Will the uncertainty go away?”

Abba Arsenios said:

“It will change.

At first it troubles you.

Later it humbles you.

In the end, it will remain with you as a kind of poverty.”

The brother said, “And that is good?”

The old man said:

“It will keep you close to God.”

Then he added:

“The man who walks this path never fully possesses it.

He walks it.

And if he is faithful, he will find that even in his uncertainty, he has not turned back.

And that is enough.”

The brother fell at his feet and said, “Pray for me, Father.”

Abba Arsenios said:

“Go.

Remain in your cell.

And your cell will teach you everything.”