top of page

Philokalia Ministries — Father Charbel Abernethy - continued

When Repentance Becomes Healing

Christ comes not merely to pronounce something over us but to restore something within us.
He enters the wound.
He cleanses the eye of the heart.
He gathers the scattered mind.
He teaches desire once again what it was created to desire.
Repentance, therefore, is not self-hatred.
It is coming home.

The modern elders understood this profoundly. Even when their language about the passions was severe, their severity was never meant to leave the soul staring endlessly at itself. They continually redirected the heart toward Christ.
Do not measure yourself endlessly.
Do not make an idol of your failure.
Do not imagine that your sin is greater than the mercy of God.
Fall down.
Rise again.
Call upon the Name.
Begin again.
And when you fall again, return again.

This is why the Jesus Prayer contains both confession and hope in a single breath:


Lord Jesus Christ,
Son of God,
have mercy on me.


The sinner does not stand alone before his sin.
He stands before Christ.
And everything depends upon where the eyes remain.

Perhaps this is why St. Isaac can feel almost dangerous to someone whose religious imagination has been formed primarily by fear. He speaks about divine mercy with an extravagance that unsettles our calculations. He refuses to allow human sin to become the measure of God.
God is the measure.
And God is love.
The ascetical life remains demanding. Tears remain necessary. Compunction remains necessary. Vigilance remains necessary. The passions must still be fought with extraordinary seriousness.
But now we begin to understand why.

The asceticism is severe because the mercy is immense.
The Fathers are ruthless toward everything that diminishes the human person because they have seen something of what the human person may become in God.
Repentance is therefore not the destruction of the self.
It is its resurrection.
Slowly, sometimes almost imperceptibly, fear begins to change.
The person who once asked,
Have I done enough not to be condemned? begins to ask another question:
How could God love us so much?
And something entirely different awakens in the heart.
Wonder.
Then desire.
The soul begins to discover that Christianity is not finally about escaping punishment. It is about communion. It is about becoming capable of receiving the Love that has been pouring itself out upon us from the beginning.
This is the world of Isaac.
The deeper he descends into repentance, the more astonished he becomes by mercy. The more clearly, he sees human weakness, the more incomprehensible the compassion of God appears.
Eventually the heart can do little except marvel.
Perhaps this is one of the deepest signs that repentance is becoming mature.
We begin with tears over ourselves.
We end with wonder before God.
And somewhere along that road fear loosens its grip.
The heart discovers that God was never the enemy from whom it needed protection.
He was the Physician standing beside the w
ound.
He was the Shepherd searching the wilderness.
He was the Father watching the road.
He was Christ descending into our darkness to bring us home.
Then repentance itself becomes beautiful.
Not easy.
Not painless.
But beautiful.
Because repentance is no longer the desperate attempt to persuade God to have mercy upon us.
It is finally allowing ourselves to be found by the mercy that has never ceased seeking us.

And when the heart begins to understand this, even faintly, something within it cries out—not from terror, but from longing:


Lord, let me know You.
Let me love You.
Let my desire for You become unquenchable.


And perhaps this is where repentance was always meant to lead:
not merely away from sin,
but into desire and wonder.

GLORY TO JESUS CHRIST!

What is it that makes you blush? Some of us in this perverted time find it impossible to blush or be ashamed at anything anymore except our faith. How about you?   Would it make you blush if people found out you were a Christian? The people you work with, the people you party with, the people you go to school with? Would it embarrass you if people found out you were a follower of Jesus? “If any man is ashamed of Me and my words in this adulterous generation, of him will the Son also be ashamed.”

What is it that makes you blush? Some of us in this perverted time find it impossible to blush or be ashamed at anything anymore except our faith. How about you?   Would it make you blush if people found out you were a Christian? The people you work with, the people you party with, the people you go to school with? Would it embarrass you if people found out you were a follower of Jesus? “If any man is ashamed of Me and my words in this adulterous generation, of him will the Son also be ashamed.”

What is it that makes you blush and be ashamed? Is it the pornographic images in print and on screen, or the words of the Holy Book: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things” (Phil. 4:8)?

By Fr. John Duranko

Home
bottom of page