God's Catholic Hermit: St. Philotheos, More on Watchfulness

The visit with family whom I've not seen in year and a half (and prior to that for much longer time span) is going as well as possible given my own pain issues, as well as the son-in-law's mother, a dear person so very ill with terminal cancer.  It makes a difference when one has not been an active or close part of grandchildren's lives.  It takes a willingness to communicate and keep up, and there are variables which affect the communication.

A thirteen-year-old girl is not excited to have a grandparent from a distance, come watch a cheerleading practice.  No other adults go to "watch," I'm told. True; that would be embarrassing at her age! Can't even get a description of a cheer, nor a little demonstration.  It is worth asking, though.  The younger grandchild, not quite 11, is a bit more responsive.  The grandparent living with them for a few years, and especially now preparing for death--they are closest with, of course, and the passing coming in a couple or more months will be most difficult on the children.  

So I remain a presence, mostly quiet but asking questions and going to after school swim practice yesterday, as well as will watch a swim meet tomorrow.  The bulk of the day I must remain on a bed, myself, resting, reading Scriptures and praying.  All is well and all shall be well.  

Last evening the ill grandmother seemed to want to talk with me about her situation, about the waiting involved with not knowing of how long or what it will be.  I did finally mention that I had a death experience years ago, and if she wanted me to share it with her, I am willing.  She asked if it would "scare her" as she did not want that, of course.  No!  I said it is wonderful, easy, and she also will be able to know of how her grandchildren are doing; there is eternal life.  

Thus far today, there has been no seeming interest in hearing more.  So I simply pray and wait.  We spend some time conversing on a variety of topics, nothing in particular.  Both grandchildren and their parents have left for their after school sports' practices.  I offered to prepare dinner, to even get onions chopped, but was declined.  People are used to quickly doing their routines--perhaps seeming far easier than to tell a guest where is this or that.  

I recall years ago writing an article on a locution I was given that actually the Lord meant as a message for how to live amidst others in this temporal world--the attitude and pose we are to have, to take upon us, regarding our presence with others.  "Be a guest" I was told.  It is wisdom to simply, humbly, unpretentiously learn in life to be a guest! [I will try to post that article, once I return to my hermitage.]

I did bring an excellent biography of St. John of the Cross to read.  I also, of course, never am at a loss for thoughts of God and all things Christ, and to marvel of the wonders of the Holy Spirit in our unfolding present moments of our lived lives--our bodies, minds, hearts, and spirits.  I am amidst those in understandably active life, and also those who do not share the Christian faith although the daughter was, of course, reared a Christian.  I do not bring up religion as a topic, nor do I bring up anything to do with my spiritual life. 

I am here as I would be anywhere, a person hidden in Christ.  And within and without, I am ever and also here as loving parent, grandparent, and friend.  Yet within myself, in the vehicle of vocation in these later years of life, I also am what a consecrated Catholic hermit is to be:  a silent preaching of the Lord, a silent, solitary, hidden witness of the mystery of the Church, that is, of a personal intimacy with Christ.  

I'm here to love and love deeply, my  beloved daughter, son-in-law, and two beautiful granddaughters-all their souls precious to me and to one another.  And that love is with and for them no matter where I may physically ever be.  It may be another long time before a visit.  I'm also here to love the dear woman so ill--a person I've always felt a bond with in our being the only two (of the various other grandparents) who remained unmarried all these years; now each of us knowing the trials of much bodily suffering.

So I turn to another "text" written by St. Philotheos in 9th century.  He hits firmly the reality of talkativeness--of which is not only the ills of verbal loquacity but how the mind, then, too, may be plagued, unbridled, with chattering thoughts.

"5.  Nothing is more unsettling than talkativeness and more pernicious than an unbridled tongue, disruptive as it is of the soul's proper state.  For the soul's chatter destroys what we build each day and scatters what we have laboriously gathered together.  What is more disastrous than this 'uncontrollable evil' (Jas. 3:8)?  The tongue has to be restrained, checked by force and muzzled, so to speak, and made to serve only what is needful.  Who can describe all the damage that the tongue does to the soul?"

This next text written by St. Philotheos takes the body, mind, heart, and soul beyond silencing the tongue and the self-control over food and drink, to the "ceaseless mindfulness of death."  All is quite positive--the mindfulness of death--and very good to practice.  Death is beautiful in and of itself, in its eternal glory of progression in the purity of Light of Christ, of love incomprehensible, of having all with us except our pained and suffering, cumbersome bodies.  Yet we are on this earth for God-ordained purposes and missions, and of these we must learn and grow and pass through.

"6.  The first gate of entry to the noetic Jerusalem--that is, to attentiveness of the intellect--is the deliberate silencing of your tongue, even though the intellect itself may not yet be still.  The second gate is balanced self-control in food and drink.  The third, is ceaseless mindfulness of death, for this purifies intellect and body.  

"Having once experienced the beauty of this mindfulness of death I was so wounded and delighted by it--in Spirit, not through the eye--that I wanted to make it my life's companion, for I was so enraptured by its loveliness and majesty, its humility and contrite joy, by how full of reflection it is, how apprehensive of the judgment to come, and how aware of life's anxieties.  it makes life-giving, healing tears flow from our bodily eyes, while from our noetic eyes rises a fount of wisdom that delights the mind.  

"This daughter of Adam--this mindfulness of death--I always longed, as I said, to have as my companion to sleep with, to talk with, and to enquire from her what will happen after the body has been discarded. But unclean forgetfulness, the devil's murky daughter, has frequently prevented this."  

God bless His Real Presence in us!

[Note:  noetic from the Greek adjective noetikos, meaning "intellectual," from the verb noein ("to think") and ultimately from the noun nous, meaning "mind."  Noetic is related to noesis, a rare noun that turns up in philosophy and refers to the action of perceiving or thinking--studies of consciousness and the mind.]