St. Isaac of Nineveh, Mystic

Here is another teaching of the mystic St. Isaac of Nineveh as paraphrased by Scott Cairns in his book of insights from the mystics in verse form, Endless Life. What follows provides some aspects of hell that you may not have considered.

Gehenna, Its Duration

Even in the matter of afflictions

-          The judgement of Gehenna, say –

there abides a hidden mystery, whereby

            the Maker has taken as a starting point

our patent willfulness, using even Hell

            as a way of bringing to perfection

His greater dispensation.

If the world to come proves entirely the realm

            of mercy, love, and goodness,

how then a final state that claims 

            requital for its measure?

That we should think that hell

            is not also full

of love and mingled with compassion

            would be an insult to our God.

By saying He will deliver us

            to suffering without purpose, we

most surely sin. We blaspheme also if we say

            that He will act with spite or with a vengeful purpose,

as if  He had a need to avenge Himself. 

Reading the Mystics

I am sure many other Christians have had the same urge as I have had. The urge, after some brief glimpse of the work of a mystic, a desire to read more. So we procure a book or treatise by the mystic only to find much of their writings dense and incomprehensible.

In May I ran across a poem by author-poet Scott Cairns a Professor at the University of Missouri. The poem was in an anthology, Francis and Clare in poetry. (See post of May 9) I found the poem to be quite moving and so sought out more of Professor Cairns work. I obtained a copy of his book Endless Life poems of the mystics and discovered in it the answer to approaching the mystics with understanding and an appreciation of the beauty of their thoughts. He has taken the prose writings of thirty seven mystics and rendered into verse a sampling of their reflections. Professor Cairn’s poetic style is easy and beautiful and transmits the musings of the mystics in very readable verse. Check it out. I offer a sample of his poetry based on the writings of St. Melito of Sardis.

How It Was

The earth trembled; its foundations

shook like silt; the sun, chagrined,

fled the scene, and every mundane

element scattered in retreat. The day

became the night: for light could not endure

the image of the Master hanging on a tree.

All creation was astonished, perplexed

and stammering, What new mystery is this?

The Judge is judged, and yet He holds His peace;

the Invisible One is utterly exposed, and yet

is not ashamed; the Incomprehensible is grasped,

and will not turn indignant; the Immensity

is circumscribed, and acquiesces; the absolutely

Unattainable suffers, and yet does not avenge;

the Immortal dies, and utters not a word;

the Celestial is pressed into the earthen grave,

and He endures! What new mystery is this?

The whole creation, I say, was astonished;

but, when our Lord stood up in Hades –

trampling death underfoot, subduing

the strong one, setting every captive free –

then all creation saw clearly that for its sake

the Judge was condemned, et cetera.

For our Lord, even when He deigned

to be born, was condemned in order

that He might show mercy, was bound

that He might loose, was seized

that He might release, suffered

that He might show compassion, died

that He might give life, was laid in the grave

that He might rise, might raise.

A Miner's Discovery

It has been a while since my last post. The last year has been busy. Hip replacement and cancer diagnosis ... prostate. There has been some good stuff. Two trips to California to visit my 97 year old mother who continues to defy old age's persistent attempts to debilitate. I should have imitated her more closely. I've also completed a two year study in spiritual direction that has provided me with the needed skills to help others progress in their personal spiritual life.

In my final days of study at the retreat center I came across a nice little book of poetry. It seems as though most of the meaningful things in my life happen accidentally. This volume of poetry about Francis and Clare is one of these accidental discoveries. I find reading poetry to be a search. Many poems are difficult to read and understand. If understood, they may not be particularly meaningful. So, when one does stand out above the others I feel like a miner panning for gold who just discovered a huge nugget. I want to read it to everyone I see! So it was in the brief time I spent with Francis and Clare in poetry, edited by Janet McCann and David Craig. I offer a poem that I felt to be one of those gold nuggets.

THE LEPER'S RETURN
          ---- a gift of St. Francis

He had grown used to the fear he carried
to the hearts of all he passed along the road.
And the chagrin he bore inside became

a bitterness far worse than the fetid taste
that never left his mouth. He could not bear
to stay near town for long, nor could he ever

walk far enough away. His days were marked
in varied degrees of suffering, varied
degrees of shame. So when he saw the young man,

trembling, stand awaiting him in the road ahead,
the leper felt the weight of his long burden briefly
lift, and when the young man rushed to embrace him,

the leper startled to the fact of his own body
gently held, and held in firm, benevolent
esteem, and when he felt the kiss across

his ruined cheek, he found forgotten light
returning to his eyes, and looked to meet
the brother light approaching from the young man's

beaming face. Each man blessed the other
with this light that then became the way
that each might travel every road thereafter.

----- Scott Cairns