boccaderlupo

The Father remains beyond, elusive, enthroned eternally within the deep recesses of the cloud covering the mountaintops, the divine darkness, essentially unknowable, his secret counsels forever shrouded.

He can only be sought by way of the Son, the incarnate, the proximate, the flesh-and-blood reality we recognize in our everyday lives. He is the Word of the Father, God made audible, whereby all things are brought from the mind of God into realization, conveying the message of Heaven to Earth, bridge across the unfathomable gulf between mortals and the Absolute. He is, too, Christ, the redeemer, insofar as everywhere there is an intimation of the Divine he offers the promise of salvation to those estranged from their Source, in various guises prompting recollection of our heavenly home, every sibyl a signpost on the Way. Thus, the Son reveals the Father.

As both these two are equally Divine and of one substance, their holy breath pours forth from the Father and the Son, one imperishable Spirit that is in all things, giving life and drawing all up into the cosmic mystery.

Spiritus—axé, pneuma, chi, et al. By whatever name, the life force which flows through us all. I speculate that although it may be singular, different cultures, having different names for this invisible substance, do different things with it.

The spiritus is the third part of the person, the other aspects being the body and soul. The spirit, breathed into the First Man, gave him life. It is the breath of God, which moved upon the face of the primordial waters of chaos with the Father after Heaven and Earth were made, but before the speaking of the Logos, which is Light itself. (The Logos abides from Eternity in the mind of the Creator, but this primal act of speech began the ordering of the cosmos in time and space, a procession of Heaven to Earth—the prototypical pattern for all subsequent, secondary acts of creation, of making manifest the logoi in the material.)

The conduit for this, and indeed all life, is the spirit, a portion of which dwells within us, a gift of God, even as it permeates the cosmos. It is associated with our breath, and this I suspect is the connecting thread for all the various ways it is used in spiritual matters: the speech of the magus, the breathing techniques of the Taoist, the axé of the singers in the roda, the prayers of the faithful. I suspect, too, that its function is integral to the consecration of the eucharist: the priest's pronouncement, urged on by the assembled laity, serving as sort of "pneumatic vehicle," as it were. I also speculate that this is one of the reasons clerical celibacy is urged: some unspecified, suppressed activity of the "nether regions," as it were, complements the administration of the mysteries, much in the way the Taoist practicing qigong taps into certain streams within the body to move and project this force. If true, then in a very real sense the spirit is effecting the sacramental operations.

Not unlike the Tao, those seeking the Kingdom, the marriage of Heaven and Earth, need to look within.

The Philokalia is a treasure trove of spiritual writings from the Desert Fathers of early Christianity, long prized in the Eastern Orthodox church but only of late readily available in English. It is highly informed by mysticism and the contemplative tradition, and I have found it extremely valuable.

What struck me most about the writings is that, rather that being more speculative (say, in a "magical" sense) or full of philosophical conjecture, the writings are grounded in a practical mysticism that is navigable by your everyday person—fair warning, however, that they are ascetic and daunting to anyone predisposed to a certain type of Christian self-interrogation. (Also on a pragmatic note, these writings, along with the Jesus prayer, represent some of the most effective "anti-magic" I have encountered.

The writers have a potent grasp of the workings of the soul that, although not 1:1 with Platonism or Neoplatonism, share some of the vocabulary, if not the same exact understanding (although I'd be surprised if there's not some spillover, given the shared cultural milieu—I'm not Plotinus or Proclus scholar, but I'd suspect these writers would be conversant with some of the same set of ideas).

All that throat-clearing aside, I thought I would share some of the glossary of terms from the English edition, on the theory that these terms may bear fruit when getting one's bearings on the path, whether Christian or other.

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Appetitive Aspect of the Soul: the soul's desiring power, one of the three aspects or powers of the soul according to the tripartite division posited by Plato in the Republic (Republic iV, 441). As I reckon it, desire.

Intelligent Aspect of the Soul (to logistikon): A faculty that seems to refer to the functioning of the Intellect (Nous), referring to the perception of spiritual realities. Not to be confused with Reason (dianoia), which is "the discursive, conceptualizing and logical faculty," whose function is "to draw conclusions or formulate concepts deriving from data provided either by revelation or spiritual knowledge" or sense data.

Incensive Aspect of the Soul: Often manifests itself as wrath or anger...per the glossary, that which provokes "vehement feelings." (The "spirited" part, per Plato.) I think of it as the Ares to the Aphrodite that is the soul's appetitive power. Both of these are generally considered parts of the soul's passable aspect and vulnerable to exploitation by the passions.

Dispassion: For some of these writers, "a state in which the passions are exercised in accordance with their original purity," "a state of reintegration and spiritual freedom" which according to Cassian is equivalent to purity of heart.

Intellect/Nous: The highest faculty, which, when purified, knows God or the inner essences or principles (Logos) of created things by means of direct apprehension or spiritual perception. Regarded as dwelling in the "depths of the soul," it also functions as the "eye of the heart." By my understanding, as the eyes are among the organs used to perceive sensible realities, so the intellect is used to perceive spiritual (noetic) realities (see "intelligent aspect of the soul.") For the Desert Fathers, it requires watchfulness, insofar as it operates as the door whereby bad actors can get into the soul.

Heart: In this case, not the physical organ, but the spiritual center of a person, the "inner shrine." I'm unclear on this, but I suspect this is the seat of volitional activity, such that the things we admit into our hearts—such as disordered passions—linger there and fester, ultimately occluding the Intellect/Nous and it's ability to perceive the Divine. Papa Francesco recently wrote a letter on the heart, for what it's worth, with a shoutout to Homer, to boot.

Flesh (sarx): Both the sensible, physical body of a human (incarnation/embodiment), and the complete soul-body apparatus, which, for the Desert Fathers has fallen into disarray. For my part, it's also analogous to "the World," that is, the overall fallen state in which we find ourselves mired, despite a yearning for return.

Fantasy: Per the glossary, the image-making faculty of the soul, which I reckon is, in short, imagination. Like the other aspects of the soul aforementioned (desire and anger), it can be exploited by bad actors, be them human (CF advertisers, sorcerers) or non-human (spirits). For the Desert Fathers, generally not something to play around with, as this is another means of entry to the soul, so perhaps an extension of the intellect/Nous.

Perhaps some may find value, as I have, in these definitions...any misunderstandings in transcribing and commenting on them are entirely mine.

Imagine the world a vast web extending from The One, inscrutable, child of none and Father of all, the primal unity beyond our comprehension, out through myriad levels of daimonic influence culminating in the manifestation of the physical universe, the outermost. As such, every thing, insofar as it exists, and in addition to its physical characteristics, bears also the traces of the Divine, as well as that of the spiritual governors who have dominion over it. Every utterance, too, then, is a manifestation, however debased, of Ideas from on high, the Word. Thus the operator, by means of this occult knowledge—of physical tokens, of symbols, of words—seeks to manipulate these invisible vinculis so as to exert some sway over the course of the unfolding...and yet by these same binds is he bound.

I've heard it argued that this was one of the boons promised by the early church: escape from the bondage of both magical operators and random divinities in the name of Christ (CF Matthew 10:1). I suspect this remains true, as well, as it's been my experience that the two do not necessarily mingle well.

Whatsoever is sown in the soil of the heart grows into Eternity.

"...It is exactly the same with us in relation to the attacks of the evil spirits. Even if you repel the heavenly spirits, they will be gladdened by this, and will help you to participate still further in grace: because of this proof of your love for the Lord they will fill you brim-tull with spiritual delight. So do not from light-mindedness speedily surrender yourself to the visitations of spirits, even if they are heavenly angels, but be wary, submitting them to the most careful scrutiny. Thus you will welcome the good and repel the evil...

According to St. Paul, Satan can even change himself into an angel of light in order to practise his deceptions (cf. 2 Cor. 11.: 14); yet though he may manifest himself in such a glorious manner, he cannot, as we said, produce within us the effects of grace, and so it becomes quite clear that the vision is counterfeit. For the devil cannot bring about love either for God or for one's neighbour, or gentleness, or humility, or joy, or peace, or equilibrium in one's thoughts, or hatred of the world, or spiritual repose, or desire for celestial things; nor can he quell passions and sensual pleasure. These things are clearly the workings of grace. For the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, and so on (cf. Gal. 5 : 22), while the devil is most apt and powerful in promoting vanity and haughtiness.

You may know from its effect whether the intellectual light shining in your soul is from God or from Satan. Indeed, once it has developed its powers of discrimination, the distinction is immediately clear to the soul itself through intellectual perception." — St. Macarius of Egypt, as paraphrased by St. Symeon Metaphrastis, Patient Endurance and Discrimination

Emphases mine. "Hatred of the world" is a little strong (in this case, giving the saint the benefit of the doubt that he means "worldly" things, i.e. unreasonable attachments to material things, of 'the flesh"), but the gist of the above is clear. There's a distinction to be made between spirits, and the infernal spirits cannot produce things like joy and peace, but instead incline one to the passions and/or arrogance and the like.

Again, a merry belated Christmas to all those who celebrate, and may you walk forever in the Light.

Somewhere in between the dream and the waking world, a sort of fully lucid dream, I found myself in the presence of a peculiar entity. I was leaving a sort of restaurant or hall with my family, one of light brown stone. They had gone to the parking lot, but this entity beckoned me to turn back into the restaurant, and so I did. She move with a grace and levity belying her apparent age, and looked like one of those venerable aunts one might see on the Benedetta cooking shows. Notwithstanding the fact that I had to see my family, she moved at her own pace, as if there were all the time in the world, and sat down at a wide kitchen table. Myriad workers and servers bustled about her, and I could perceive deep halls and kitchens beyond, full of activity.

We spoke only in Italian. I gently asked her identity. Fortuna, she said, pushing up her black-rimmed glasses, and I asked if she needed any assistance, but she smiled. She had many lavoranti e attendenti about. We spoke briefly, and I got the sense that I could leave, so I did.

The thought that remained: One may labor for many years for a particular end, but it is only by the Grace of God, Fortuna, the Providence of the Eternal One, that we arrive at an outcome.

Axé!

An interesting read on Origen's thought, for those who are into such things.