On Pain of Heart

In the patristic writings, “pain of heart” generally refers to an elemental inward suffering, the bearing of an interior cross while following Jesus Christ, and a spirit broken in contrition. “Suffering,” Fr. Seraphim stated, “is the reality of the human condition and the beginning of the true spiritual life.” From Archbishop John, who had utterly crucified himself in this life, Fr. Seraphim had learned how to endure this suffering in thankfulness to God, and from him he had learned its fruits. If used in the right way, suffering can purify the heart, and the pure in heart . . . shall see God (Matt. 5:8). “The right approach,” wrote Fr. Seraphim, “is found in the heart which tries to humble itself and simply knows that it is suffering, and that there somehow exists a higher truth which can not only help this suffering, but can bring it into a totally different dimension.” According to St. Mark the ascetic (fifth century), “Remembrance of God is pain of heart enduring in the spirit of devotion. But he who forgets God becomes self-indulgent and insensitive.” And in the words of St. Barsanuphius the Great of Egypt, whose counsels Fr. Seraphim translated into English, “Every gift is received through pain of heart.”

Father Seraphim Rose: His Life and Works, p. 471

Besides its general meaning, “pain of heart” has a literal meaning in the writings of the Fathers, for when the heart is concentrated in fervent prayer to Christ, it may actually be pained. As Fr. Seraphim noted, in Patristic terminology, the “heart” does not mean mere “feeling,” but “something much deeper–the organ that knows God.” The heart is both spiritual and physical: spiritually, it is the center of man’s being, identified with his nous (spirit); physically, it is the organ where the nous finds its secret dwelling place. Concentrated within the physical heart, the nous cries out to the Saviour, and such a heart-cry–born in pain and desperation, yet hoping in God–calls down Divine grace. This is seen especially in the Orthodox practice of the Jesus Prayer. When we approach the Jesus Prayer simply, says Elder Paisios of Mount Athos (†1994), “we will be able to repeat it many times, and our heart will feel a sweet pain and then Christ Himself will shed His sweet consolation inside our heart.”

Father Seraphim Rose: His Life and Works, pp. 471-472

“The Patristic teaching on pain of heart,” Fr. Seraphim wrote, “is one of the most important teaching for our days when ‘head-knowledge’ is so over-emphasized at the expense of the proper development of emotional and spiritual life. . . . The lack of this essential experience is what above all is responsible for the dilettantism, the triviality, the want of seriousness in the ordinary study of the Holy Fathers today; without it , one cannot apply the teachings of the Holy Fathers to one’s own life. One may attain to the very highest level of understanding with the mind of the teaching of the Holy Fathers, may have ‘at one’s fingertips’ quotes from the Holy Fathers on every conceivable subject, may have ‘spiritual experiences’ which seem to be those described in the Patristic books, may even know perfectly all the pitfalls into which it is possible to fall in spiritual life–and still, without pain of heart, one can be a barren fig tree, a boring ‘know-it-all’ who is always ‘correct,’ or an adept in all the present-day ‘charismatic’ experiences, who does not know and cannot convey the true spirit of the Holy Fathers.”

Father Seraphim Rose: His Life and Works, p. 472

Attending to the heart with discernment

Attention to what goes on in the heart and to what comes forth from it is the chief work of a well-ordered Christian life. Through this attention the inward and the outward are brought into due relation with one another. But to this watchfulness, discernment must always be added, so that we may understand aright what passes within and what is required by outward circumstance. Attention is useless without discernment.

Theophan the Recluse (in Igumen Chariton of Valamo, The Art of Prayer (Faber and Faber, 1966), p. 182)

Descend from your head into your heart

You must descend from your head into your heart. At present your thoughts of God are in your head. And God Himself is, as it were, outside you, and so your prayer and other spiritual exercises remain exterior. Whilst you are still in your head, thoughts will not easily be subdued but will always be whirling about, like snow in winter or clouds of mosquitoes in the summer.

At this stage solitude and reading are two swift helpers.

Theophan the Recluse (in Igumen Chariton of Valamo, The Art of Prayer (Faber and Faber, 1966), p. 183)

A crowded rag market

When you pray with feeling, where is your attention if not in the heart? Acquire feeling, and you will acquire attention as well. The head is a crowded rag market: it is not possible to pray to God there. If at times the prayer goes well and by itself, that is a good sign. It means that it has begun to be grafted to the heart. Guard your heart from attachments; try to remember God, seeing Him before you and working before His face.

Theophan the Recluse (in Igumen Chariton of Valamo, The Art of Prayer (Faber and Faber, 1966), p. 184)

The hermitage of the heart. Different kinds of feelings in prayer

You dream of a hermeitage. But you already have your hermitage, here and now! Sit still, and call out: ‘Lord, have mercy!’ . . . . The habit of walking before God and keeping Him in remembrance–such is the air we breathe in the spiritual life. Created as we are in the image of God, this habit should exist in our spirit naturally: if it is absent, that is because we have fallen away from God. As a result of this fall, we have to fight to acquire the habit of walking before God. Our ascetic struggle consists essentially in the effort to stand consciously before the face of the ever-present God; but there are also secondary activities which likewise form part of the spiritual life. Here too, there is work to be done, in order to direct these activities to their true aim. Reading, meditation, prayer, all our occupations and contacts, must be conducted in such a way as not to blot out or disturb the remembrance of God. The seat of our consciousness and attention must also be concentrated in this remembrance of God.

The mind is in the head, and intellectuals live always in the head. They live in the head and suffer from unceasing turbulence of thoughts. This turbulence does not allow the attention to settle on any one thing. Neither can the mind, when it is in the head, dwell constantly on the one thought of God. All the time it keeps running away. For this reason, those who want to establish the one thought of God within themselves, are advised to leave the head and descend with their mind into their heart, and to stand there with ever present attantion. Only then, when the mind is united with the heart, is it possible to expect success in the remembrance of God. . . .

Theophan the Recluse (in Igumen Chariton of Valamo, The Art of Prayer (Faber and Faber, 1966), p. 185-6)

The Lord’s reception room

You seek the Lord? Seek, but only within yourself. He is not far from anyone. The Lord is near all those who truly call on Him. Find a place in your heart, and speak there with the Lord. It is the Lord’s reception room. Everyone who meets the Lord, meets Him there; He has fixed no other place for meeting souls.

Theophan the Recluse (in Igumen Chariton of Valamo, The Art of Prayer (Faber and Faber, 1966), p. 187)

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