Podcasts about John Jack

There is a temptation to read St. Isaac's description of the ascetic life as though he were outlining a ladder by which we ascend to God through effort. Nothing could be further from his mind. The ascetical life is not an achievement but a preparation. It removes what clouds the eyes of the heart so that grace may reveal what has always been present: the inexhaustible love of God. Isaac begins with struggle. The soul embraces fasting, watchfulness, vigil, prayer, reading, prostrations, and stillness with determination. Yet these labors are never an end in themselves. They are medicine. They quiet the tyranny of the passions and gather together the scattered powers of the soul. Little by little the heart becomes still enough to receive what no human effort can produce. Then grace begins to act in a new way. The mind is granted what Isaac calls the faculty of sight—not physical vision, nor intellectual understanding, but a purified perception of reality. The eyes of the heart begin to open. One starts to see as God sees. The mysteries of faith are no longer merely believed; they begin to be tasted. Scripture becomes transparent with divine life. Every created thing becomes luminous with the presence of the Creator. This is the healing of sight. What is seen first is not extraordinary visions but the overwhelming depth of God's love. The soul discovers that grace has always preceded it, surrounded it, and carried it. What once appeared ordinary now becomes radiant with mercy. Every remembrance of Christ reveals a love deeper than previously imagined. Every prayer uncovers a tenderness that had always been waiting. From this vision arises what Isaac calls fervor. But this is not emotional excitement or religious intensity. It is the heart set ablaze because it has finally glimpsed something infinitely beautiful. One cannot behold divine love without being drawn toward it. And here wonder is born. Wonder is the soul's astonishment before a Love that continually exceeds every expectation. It is the childlike gaze restored after years of blindness. The more one sees, the more one realizes how little has yet been seen. Every new glimpse enlarges the heart's capacity for awe. Wonder, in turn, gives birth to desire. This desire is no longer restless striving for spiritual experiences. It is the quiet longing to remain forever with the One whose beauty has captivated the heart. Desire has been healed because sight has been healed. One seeks God not from fear or obligation but because Love has become irresistible. The tears Isaac describes arise naturally from this transformation. They are the language of a heart becoming transparent before God. As tears deepen into abiding peace, the warfare of thoughts gradually subsides. From this peace comes purity. From purity comes clearer vision. From clearer vision comes still greater wonder. From wonder comes deeper desire. Thus the soul moves, as St. Paul says, “from glory to glory,” or, as the Fathers loved to say, from grace to grace. Even the ascetical practices themselves are transformed. Vigils, fasting, prostrations, and prayer are no longer burdens to be endured but expressions of love. One remains in prayer because one has discovered the Beloved there. Whether prayer multiplies into countless prostrations or becomes gathered into a single wordless contemplation, both are gifts of the same grace working according to the measure God gives. For Isaac, the entire spiritual life is nothing other than the gradual restoration of vision. We do not become different people so much as truly human. The veil over the heart is lifted. We begin to behold the Kingdom already present. We discover that God has loved us long before we learned to seek Him. Every genuine ascetical labor serves this one purpose: that our sight may be healed, our wonder awakened, our desire purified, and our hearts transformed ever more deeply into the likeness of Christ. The journey never ends, for the love that is revealed is infinite. Each grace prepares the soul for another grace. Each glimpse opens onto a greater horizon. And so the heart continues its pilgrimage—not driven by fear, but drawn onward forever by the inexhaustible beauty of Divine Love. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:01:00 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 217 Homily 18 00:04:21 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/a-new-book-from-city-a-desert-press 00:04:57 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.amazon.com/Monastic-Heart-Future-Church-Fragmentation-ebook/dp/B0H83PJB6R/ref=sr_1_2?crid=CA7O6MNLKS2B&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.UxrtdZ72KKP0IBe2nG2QKWoekj-tDWub-JRHV70F3o_9D8FKLwu3XJQwvaPRSOwXyoLeEkoM3pnCnEfXghYaecmDIjPMYikocLL4oOyECpNa633QwCLIRNEvGeBomRANfezyyKgZUNE_8KLrXsTDyDINbIELyJ_JDlSyMQ366ADfOF8Ko7V9c8zpgjxI-NXGJ8OXoZir32kRKTRw1hzIvS79rq-XnDOglQHeZ3C0ypk.jSo9ogtwHZA38QhTVKjumOyVWU5SWx0imIAZKw7pOPU&dib_tag=se&keywords=the+monastic+heart&qid=1785019600&sprefix=%2Caps%2C111&sr=8-2 00:06:15 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-monastic-heart-and-the-future-of-the-church-charbel-abernethy/1150670922?ean=9798996766413 00:08:19 Aaron: Good evening everyone. Hope you're all well 00:32:02 Maureen Cunningham: When you see your lack, how do you not have self hate for what you see with in yourself 00:44:45 Ryan Ngeve: Father regarding the last line from the previous paragraph, what purposes does it serve for the tears the overcome a man, leave him, and the come again unceasingly? 00:45:48 James Hickman: Re: the prodigal son, the Father's fatted calf was always there for either son to enjoy, the fatted calf being the sweet Christ. 00:45:57 Kathryn Rose: Myrrhic tears 00:46:53 James Hickman: The slaughtered fatted calf is like that peace from warfare 00:48:57 Erick Chastain: page #? 01:00:25 David Swiderski: The veil between heaven and earth is thinnest at night. I can't remember the Saint but learned this from someone in Spain in the Picos de Europa looking at the milky way and the sea of Biscay in the distance. I still like to do a vigil looking out a window or outside (in summer) 01:04:19 Aaron: How can one recognise their own limits in spiritual practice so they don't push themselves beyond what their body can bear? 01:05:07 David Swiderski: I will try. It was a comment from a friend I was so caught up in the moment I cant remember 01:05:19 Julie: Reacted to "I will try. It was a comment from a friend I was so caught up in the moment I cant remember" with

There is a temptation when reading the closing section of Homily 17 to see it as little more than a long list of prohibitions. Do not quarrel. Do not lie. Speak little. Avoid pride. Flee idle disputes. Endure injustice. Keep away from the powerful. Be moderate. At first glance, it can seem as though Isaac is describing a life of relentless restraint. Yet nothing could be further from his intention. The asceticism Isaac describes is never an end in itself. It is not a spiritual achievement, nor a demonstration of discipline. It is medicine. Every command is given for one purpose alone: to heal the heart until it can see again. The passions do not simply lead us into sin; they cloud our vision. Anger, pride, gluttony, argumentativeness, ambition, and constant speech scatter the soul. They fragment our attention until we can no longer perceive the quiet movements of grace. We remain busy with ourselves while becoming strangers to the Kingdom already present within us. This is why Isaac warns so carefully about seemingly ordinary things. Much talk extinguishes the noetic movements of the heart. Pride drives away the gentle energy of the Holy Spirit. Endless disputes over doctrine can become more about victory than truth. Even legitimate concerns can consume the heart until it loses its capacity for wonder. Asceticism, then, is not primarily about saying no. It is about making room for a greater yes. As the heart is purified, something extraordinary begins to emerge. Desire awakens—not the restless desire that seeks to possess, but the deep longing placed within us by God from the beginning. Wonder returns. The world ceases to be merely useful or threatening and becomes transparent to divine love. We begin to recognize that every act of humility, every silence embraced, every injury patiently endured is quietly removing another veil from the eyes of the heart. Then Isaac arrives at the astonishing conclusion toward which the entire homily has been moving: “Your soul will see the light of Christ in herself.” This is not poetic exaggeration. Nor is it a mystical privilege reserved for a few extraordinary souls. It is the destiny of every human being. The One whom we have sought in prayer, in Scripture, in the sacraments, and in the wilderness is discovered dwelling within the heart itself. The ascetical life has not brought Christ near; it has healed our blindness so that we may finally behold the One who has never departed. Here desire reaches its fulfillment. Wonder is no longer merely a response to creation but to the Creator living within His creature. Love recognizes Love. The heart discovers that beneath all its restless searching there has always been an eternal Presence waiting in silence. The Desert Fathers never practiced asceticism because they despised the world. They practiced it because they longed to see. Every fast, every vigil, every hidden act of humility was an act of hope that the eyes of the heart might become clear enough to behold Christ shining from within. Perhaps this is why Isaac ends not with another command but with a promise. The goal is not a perfectly disciplined life. The goal is a luminous heart. For when the heart is healed, it does not merely believe that Christ dwells within. It begins to see Him there. And in that vision, desire finds its home, wonder becomes ceaseless, and the soul enters even now into the eternal light that can never again be overcome by darkness. --- Text of chat during the group:   00:02:13 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/philokalia-ministries-summer-retreat 00:10:02 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/where-silence-learns-to-speak   00:11:13 Larry Ruggiero: Can you send the ISBN# of the book you are reading from. I'm having a difficult time following in my book translated by Nun Christina   00:11:35 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Above link is the Charter for City a Desert Press   00:13:17 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 216 para 7 mid paragraph   00:15:34 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/where-silence-learns-to-speak   00:29:23 James Hickman: Father, no disagreement here, but could you please share a few concrete examples of what Saint Isaac means by “something pertaining to the soul”? I can see why we don't want to hurt the soul. What does Isaac have in mind that pertains to the soul though?   00:33:23 James Hickman: Thank you   00:46:01 Maureen Cunningham: I put an icon in my car when get urge for fries I look at the Icon of the Holy Face of Jesus   00:46:57 paul g.: ✔️   00:47:42 James Hickman: The Thomistic Institue just released a podcast recording of a retreat talk on forgiveness by Fr. Andrew Hofer, OP, where he reminds us of the patristic interpretation of the fatted calf as Christ. The saints denied themselves of delicious food because they've tasted and seen how good and sweet the Lord is. Far tastier than any food made by human hands is the Fatted Calf.   00:52:57 Maureen Cunningham: Not passed by FDA only baby product   00:53:49 Rebecca Thérèse: Is the supplement research conducted by pharmaceutical companies?   01:04:38 Erick Chastain: this set of passages seems to make the argument you should not often be on social media   01:17:09 John ‘Jack': They sanctify us   01:20:59 Joan Chakonas: I used to seek truth in economics and current events back in my secular days- but upon finding my faith I know Seeking truth with the help of the desert fathers is all i ever needed   01:21:07 Julie: Thank you Father

The Fathers are extraordinarily subtle here because they know that the human heart is subtle. They refuse the comforting simplicity by which we divide the world into good people and bad people, good deeds and evil deeds, the righteous and the guilty. Not because such distinctions are meaningless, but because they do not yet reach deeply enough. Beneath the visible act lies the intention. Beneath the intention lies desire. And beneath desire there may be movements of the heart so quiet, so mixed, and so carefully concealed that we ourselves scarcely recognize them. A man praises his neighbor, yet his praise conceals envy. Another remains silent under reproach, and his silence appears humble, yet rancor is gathering within him. One speaks the truth, but uses truth as a weapon. Another defends his neighbor, yet secretly delights in appearing more merciful than those around him. The external act may be correct while the heart remains divided. This is why the Fathers speak so severely about guile. Guile is not simply telling a lie. It is the creation of a distance between what appears and what is. The lips move in one direction while the heart moves in another. We learn to present ourselves even to ourselves in ways that protect us from the truth. The terrifying possibility raised in these passages is that a person may fulfill a commandment and yet fail to acquire the virtue toward which the commandment was leading him. “Fulfilling a commandment is one thing and practicing a virtue is another.” This distinction is essential. I may refrain from speaking and still possess no meekness. I may give alms and still possess no mercy. I may defend the truth and yet have no love for the person whom I correct. I may rejoice publicly at another's success while inwardly grieving that the good was given to him rather than to me. The commandment has been observed outwardly. The heart has not yet become true. Yet the Fathers do not expose this complexity in order to drive us into endless introspection or suspicion of every motive. They are forming the conscience in relation to Christ. The Christian conscience is not meant to become a tribunal before which we endlessly prosecute ourselves. It is an organ of perception. Purified by grace, it learns to recognize what is consonant with Christ and what is alien to Him. It asks not merely, “Was this permitted?” or even, “Did I fulfill the commandment?” It begins to ask a more searching question: Was I living in conformity with the truth? And for the Christian, the Truth is not an abstraction. The Truth has a face. Christ becomes the measure of the heart. This is why intention matters so profoundly. God sees the deed from within. He sees the hidden resentment beneath the silence and the hidden mercy beneath the awkward word. He sees the desire to love when weakness prevents us from acting. He also sees the secret consent to evil before the body has carried it out. “The law of freedom exists in the mind prior to any action.” We live before the gaze of One from whom nothing is hidden. This could terrify us if God's gaze were merely forensic. But the Fathers understand His gaze as the gaze of the Physician. The heart is uncovered so that it may become whole. Christ brings into the light the envy concealed beneath praise, the vainglory concealed beneath humility, and the vengeance concealed beneath zeal for truth—not to humiliate us, but to free us from the exhausting necessity of pretending. Even the troubling account of St. Gregory the Wonderworker must be read within this severe spiritual world. The story is meant to awaken us to the gravity of making falsehood our habitation. The men who attempt to deceive the Saint are not simply performing a clever trick. They enact a lie with their bodies. One feigns death. The other feigns grief. Compassion itself is manipulated for gain. The entire scene is an inversion of reality. And suddenly the falsehood becomes terribly real. The story shocks us because the Fathers want to disturb our casual relationship with duplicity. We often imagine that what is hidden is therefore insignificant. They insist upon the opposite. What is hidden may be precisely where our deepest formation is taking place. The question, then, is not whether our hearts are perfectly pure. If that were the requirement, none of us could stand. The question is whether we are willing to live in the light. Can I acknowledge envy when I see it? Can I recognize that my righteous indignation contains wounded pride? Can I admit that my silence is not peace but resentment? Can I allow Christ to show me that even my virtues remain mixed with passions? This requires profound humility. But it also produces profound freedom. The Fathers give us a remarkably concrete remedy for envy: rejoice with the one whom you envy. Grieve with him when he grieves. Do not wait until your heart spontaneously becomes pure. Place yourself deliberately within the truth of communion. The one I envy is not my rival. His joy does not diminish me. His gifts are not accusations against my poverty. To rejoice with him is to begin teaching the heart the truth. This is how conscience is formed. Not by obsessively watching ourselves, but by repeatedly bringing the movements of the heart into the presence of Christ and allowing His life to become our measure. Slowly, painfully, the distance between appearance and reality begins to close. We become less interested in appearing humble and begin to desire humility. Less interested in appearing merciful and begin to desire mercy. Less interested in being seen as truthful and begin to desire the Truth. Perhaps this is what the Fathers mean by virtue. The commandment is no longer merely something I do. By grace, it begins to reveal what I am becoming. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:00:59 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 43 paragraph 3 00:03:28 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 43, first #3 00:13:19 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 43, first #3 00:18:27 Larry  Ruggiero: Christina Nun Part 5 Chapter 2 paragraph 3 ( page 401 in the 4 volume set). 00:19:58 Larry  Ruggiero: correction page 411 00:25:22 James Hickman: A question for Abba Mark paragraph 1: is the line “he is / will be punished more severely?” understood during, after, or a combination perhaps during and after life? 00:27:35 James Hickman: Thank you! 00:28:34 Maureen Cunningham: Page 44 it ends 00:33:45 Danny Moulton: Don't mess with St. Gregory! 00:34:26 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 47, # 4 00:37:14 Forrest: This story of St. Peter is in Acts of the Apostles chapter 5. 00:38:18 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 47, B 00:41:26 Forrest: And in this hypothesis, it is also shown that companionship with the wicked can be deadly. 00:44:25 Catherine Opie: I often have become very angry when people have taken advantage of my generous nature in the past and this made me hard hearted and reluctant to continue to be generous. Now, thanks to the grace of God and these sessions, I understand that I should continue to be generous, even more than before, pity anyone who takes advantage of that and pray for them begging the Lord to have mercy on them and me. I am slow to learn... 00:53:44 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 48, A 00:58:26 Rebecca Thérèse: I think Scripture can be understood at different levels. Using it symbolically to illustrate a spiritual point doesn't negate a more literalistic interpretation. St John of the Cross uses Scripture like this. 00:59:23 Catherine Opie: My footnote says this is not from St Gregory but an anonymous author 00:59:45 Forrest: The Greek says anonymous elder. 01:00:03 Kate: The footnote is on p 50 01:04:20 Forrest: ψυχικῶς - "at heart" 01:04:45 James Hickman: Gregory of Nyssa in The Life of Moses seems to interpret Moses's striking down the Egyptian as a struggle in prayer to guard his soul against the enemies of contemplation. The Egyptian here is not merely the guy who walked near Moses in Egypt…it's the war within. Paragraphs 310-312 in that book  www.newhumanityinstitute.org/pdf-articles/Gregory-of-Nyssa-The-Life-of-Moses.pdf 01:12:22 Forrest: I think this paragraph echoes paragraph 5 benefitting at heart ψυχικῶς without actually performing the good dead. 01:15:03 Maureen Cunningham: Thank You, always a Blessing 01:16:18 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:16:24 Danny Moulton: THank You! 01:16:30 Catherine Opie: God bless, its freezing here 01:16:33 John ‘Jack':

“One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” — Psalm 27:4 Few passages in St. Isaac the Syrian can be as easily misunderstood as this one. Read superficially, it can sound severe, even offensive to modern ears. His warnings about women, nuns, relatives, and young companions may appear to reflect suspicion toward persons rather than wisdom about the spiritual life. Yet such a reading overlooks both the monastic setting in which Isaac writes and the deeper concern that governs every line of his counsel. Isaac is not teaching that women are a source of evil, nor is he diminishing the goodness of family or friendship. Throughout his writings, his attention is never fixed upon others as dangers in themselves. His gaze remains fixed upon the heart and its extraordinary capacity both for communion with God and for subtle distraction. The repeated refrain of this passage reveals its true center: “lest your heart be chilled from the love of God.” This is the thread that binds together everything he says. The heart, once awakened to divine love, must be protected, not because God is fragile, but because we are. Human desire is easily dispersed. Our attention becomes fragmented. Emotional attachments, conversations, familiarities, anxieties, ambitions, and countless innocent occupations can gradually occupy the inner sanctuary that belongs to Christ alone. Rarely does this happen through great acts of rebellion. More often it happens through slow diffusion, until the fire quietly burns less brightly than before. For this reason Isaac begins, not with avoidance, but with humility. Refuse no lowly task. Judge no one. Consider yourself accountable for another's fall. Hide your spiritual struggles. Seek only one wise and God-fearing confidant. Live quietly. Every one of these counsels gathers the heart inward. They free it from the endless outward movement of self-assertion and return it to the simplicity of standing before God. His counsel regarding relationships belongs within this same ascetical vision. He is writing to monks who have embraced a radical vocation of celibacy and solitude, where even legitimate human affections must be carefully ordered lest they become substitutes for the all-consuming love of Christ. His language reflects the rigor of that calling and the assumptions of his own historical and monastic world. It should not be detached from that context or mechanically applied to every Christian life. Yet beneath these historically conditioned expressions lies a spiritual principle of enduring importance. Every disciple of Christ must ask what quietly draws the heart away from its first love. For some, it may indeed be disordered relationships. For others, it is success, constant activity, endless news, resentment, comfort, or the subtle desire to be admired. The forms differ from person to person, but the interior movement remains the same. Anything that gradually occupies the deepest affection of the heart risks cooling the love that belongs to Christ. Isaac's asceticism is therefore not an asceticism of fear but of love. He is not constructing walls around the monk because the world is unclean. He is protecting a flame. The one who has begun to taste the sweetness of communion with God discovers that there is nothing more precious than preserving that intimacy. Every act of vigilance becomes an expression of love. Every renunciation becomes the joyful refusal to exchange what is eternal for what is passing. Paradoxically, this vigilance does not diminish our capacity to love others. It purifies it. Detached from possessiveness and emotional need, the heart becomes capable of a deeper tenderness, one that seeks the good of the other without making the other the source of its life. The more wholly the heart belongs to Christ, the more freely it can belong to everyone else. This is where Isaac is leading us. Not toward fear of the world, nor toward suspicion of human relationships, but toward that simplicity of heart in which nothing is loved apart from God and everything is loved within Him. Only such a heart remains truly free. Only such a heart can receive every person as gift without ever losing the Giver. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:01:53 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 215 paragraph 5 00:09:59 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/a-new-book-from-city-a-desert-press 00:14:47 Maureen Cunningham: How do I find Christina the Nun I was telling a friend 00:15:00 John ‘Jack': ❤️ 00:15:26 James Hickman: Second Sunday of Easter (or Sunday of Divine Mercy) https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/041226.cfm 00:15:37 Adam Paige: search "Nun Christina" on Amazon 00:15:40 Ambrose Little: Hi, Ren! 00:15:52 Ren Horcher: Reacted to "Hi, Ren!" with ❤️ 00:18:31 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 215, #5, second paragraph 00:21:52 Bob Čihák, AZ: Reacted to "Hi, Ren!" with ❤️ 00:35:13 Aaron: What would ‘linger' and ‘gaze'? Do those terms have different meanings? 00:35:32 Aaron: What would ‘linger' and ‘gaze' mean?* 00:37:06 David Swiderski: A spiritual director I had always said when you stop seeing Christ look away back towards him 00:38:19 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 215, #5, second paragraph 00:39:29 Rebecca Thérèse: I've spent a lot of time travelling alone in Morocco wearing Muslim clothing so I would not stand out. Muslim men do not look directly at women who they are not related to. This felt a little unusual at first but eventually I felt very respected by it. They listened very attentively to me and were very helpful but they never looked at me at all after the first glance. (Moroccan women looked at me and would also touch my hands and my clothing). 00:40:33 Rebecca Thérèse: The attitude of Muslim men is that they do not have the right to look at women. 00:53:04 Aaron: What does St. Isaac mean when he says ‘one who is poor in his place of dwelling' ? 00:54:40 John ‘Jack': One of my very closest confidants is a dear freind who has Glioblastoma Brian cancer 26 years ago, was given 24 hours to live.  He's had 7 years of Hama radiation abs a lobotomy, he's one of the most sincere followers I know, and makes a wonderful confidant as he has a HORRIBLE memory as he literally only has about 1/2 a brain, he's a beautiful man 00:55:31 John ‘Jack': I love him dearly 00:55:34 James Hickman: Unless a side fall and die 00:55:43 James Hickman: Seed 00:59:49 Maureen Cunningham: Wow he looks perfect 01:11:46 James Hickman: We can judge those we are closest with, for the tempter wants to trap us in that familiarity 01:15:48 Maureen Cunningham: Seem the world hate Christians we can easily join in 01:15:48 Adam Paige: I found Fr Charbel's upcoming volume as a Kobo e-book, and you can read a 26-page preview (Author's Note and Prologue): https://kobo.com/en/ebook/the-monastic-heart-and-the-future-of-the-church 01:17:44 Rachel: Yes! So beautiful 01:18:19 Ben: Anna: These paragraphs are heavy and my inclination is to turn away from them as something for someone else. 01:18:24 James Hickman: Will this be an audiobook? 01:19:16 Sr Barbara Jean Mihalchick: For me it's shades of novitiate training... 01:20:41 John ‘Jack': Be plucky 01:21:00 Joan Chakonas: Books are the deposit of the faith- essential 01:22:12 Joan Chakonas: I think where would we be without all of these pages of wisdom? 01:25:25 David Swiderski: Thank you Father may God bless you, your mother and Ren and her husband 01:25:28 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:25:34 Art: Thank you! 01:26:08 Rachel: Thank you! 01:26:08 Aaron: Thank you Father 01:26:11 Gwen's iPhone: Ty

Chloe and Russ sit down with John to talk about his book, law career and family life . follow us at goodlife bookstore on all platforms and goodlifebookstore.com

Local officials are trying to get a safe, secondary road connecting the west coast to the rest of the island, after wildfires blocked the main routes in 2023 and 2025. But which route is best? And what will it take to make it happen? We hear from John Jack with Huu-ay-aht First Nations, Bob Beckett from the Alberni-Clayoquot Regional District, and Judi Thomas of the Ditidaht First Nation about the work they're doing - and how it will support communities like Bamfield, Tofino/Ucluelet, and Port Alberni. Check out this article to see a map of the possible routes, and listen to this previous episode to hear why wildfires can wreak such havoc on roads.

In today's episode, Toast is joined by John, Jack, White Guy, and Tommy to recap the disastrous end to the USA's World Cup Journey. We also discuss how France look like the favorites to win it all AND MORE!!--NOTE-- This episode was recorded on 7/13.Intro Song - "Mistakes" - 90's Old School Boom Bap Beat | Sad Piano | Underground Hip Hop Instrumental (https://tinyurl.com/bdfsnanr)

The Christian life is not first the struggle to become better people, but the gradual unveiling of what we have already become through Christ. We have been fashioned to be the dwelling place of the living God. Every act of repentance, every hidden prayer, every battle against the passions, every tear shed in sincerity serves this one purpose: that the heart might become a temple in which God delights to dwell. For St. Isaac, holiness is never an end in itself. He does not call us to a perfection rooted in fear or spiritual achievement, but to the purification of the heart so that it may receive the divine Guest. As one cleans and adorns a sanctuary before the arrival of a beloved friend, so we are called to cleanse the inner chamber of the soul through humility, watchfulness, and prayer. The goal is always communion. God does not seek servants who merely obey Him outwardly; He desires children whose hearts have become His resting place. Seen in this light, repentance is transformed. It is no longer the anxious rehearsal of failures, nor the despairing gaze of one consumed by guilt. It is learning to see life beneath the light of eternity. Isaac continually asks us to remember that we will one day stand before Christ, not because he wishes to frighten us, but because only in that light do we begin to understand what truly endures. The honors we pursued, the comforts we clung to, and the anxieties that consumed us will all pass away. What remains is love. Whom did we comfort? Whom did we forgive? For whose sake did we endure hardship? Into whose hands did we entrust our heart? These are the questions that reveal whether we have already begun to live in the Kingdom. This vision gives extraordinary dignity to the hidden life. Every unnoticed act of patience, every quiet sacrifice, every refusal to judge another, every secret prayer offered for the world becomes part of the adornment of the temple. The soul is gradually made spacious enough for God. Holiness is formed less by extraordinary deeds than by thousands of small acts of fidelity that no one but Christ may ever see. Perhaps nowhere does Isaac's tenderness appear more clearly than in his understanding of tears. He knows that true repentance cannot be manufactured. We cannot force ourselves to feel sorrow, nor produce compunction by sheer effort. Even repentance is a gift. Therefore the heart finally prays with complete honesty: “I have no repentance. I have no tears. My heart has grown cold.” Such a confession is itself the beginning of healing, for it abandons every illusion of self-sufficiency. The soul no longer presents achievements to God, but poverty. And this poverty becomes the place where grace quietly enters. The prayer that follows reveals the very heart of the Gospel. Every wound of Christ becomes healing for our wounds. His Passion heals our passions. His Blood purifies our corruption. His Cross raises the mind that has been dragged downward by sin. His pierced hands lift us from the abyss into communion with the Father. Salvation is not merely the forgiveness of sins but the gradual healing and transfiguration of our entire humanity through participation in the life of the crucified and risen Christ. This is why Isaac never leaves us gazing at ourselves. Even after the deepest self-examination, he directs every thought toward Christ. The purpose of seeing our poverty is not discouragement but desire. We discover our need so that we may discover the inexhaustible mercy of God. The deeper the wound is known, the more wondrous the Physician appears. In the end, the Christian life is astonishingly simple. We become what we behold. We learn to welcome Christ into every corner of the heart until His presence becomes our peace, His humility our strength, His tears our repentance, His love our very life. Then the promise of the Apostle is fulfilled. The temple is no longer empty. The cloud of divine glory overshadows the soul, the light of Christ quietly dawns within, and the heart discovers the joy for which it was created from the beginning: to become the dwelling place of the living God. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:03:48 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/philokalia-ministries-summer-retreat 00:09:56 susan: US plays at 8 tonight  I will miss the first part to hear you Father 00:10:58 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/philokalia-ministries-summer-retreat 00:19:48 David Swiderski, WI: Does anyone have the page I was on vacation near Lake Superior last week and forgot my book. 00:32:02 Kate: Could you explain what he means by “words which give rest to your God…” 00:33:26 David Swiderski, WI: I am reminded of something my Grandfather used to say revelation did not stop 2000 years ago it occurs everyday, in every person,  we meet every moment and each day we are called to learn to reach for the divine. 00:38:15 Julie: These passages feel like the most beautiful tools to awaken in us how to get closer to what God wants from us…all love, to see our unworthiness our wretched selves 00:39:03 John ‘Jack': I find the more I feel “touched by God” or have a God moment, the less I can share it, because I KNOW what I've experienced, and if I share it with another that hasn't it is often lost on them and o find myself somehow disappointed at the lack of communion over the moment. 00:42:18 John ‘Jack': Replying to "I find the more I feel “touched by God” or have a God moment, the less I can share it, because I KNOW what I've experienced, and if I share it with another that hasn't it is often lost on them and o find myself somehow disappointed at the lack of communion over the moment." I keep a LOT to myself now 00:44:35 David Swiderski, WI: This is so true one can't really explain in language the love for their children, loved ones without it seeming transactional to others. Even the northern lights one can't explain without experiencing them sometimes it is best to just leave it vague it shines, awesome, amazing. 00:48:25 Erick Chastain: So that works by love of Christ? Or how does it work? 00:48:41 Erick Chastain: (The passion curing our passions) 00:49:02 David Swiderski, WI: Father I had been reading a lot on the meditation of the 5 wounds in fact this is on every altar, the Jerusalem cross when did this tradition go away. I have been trying to take on this practice on Fridays in adoration 00:53:50 David Swiderski, WI: https://www.fisheaters.com/5wounds.html 00:54:42 David Swiderski, WI: Once I started doing it I had to buy a new crucifix. ha ha 00:56:17 David Swiderski, WI: Even some of the wounds have disappeared in modern art. I love the Latin American versions very expressive in churches 00:59:46 Maureen Cunningham: Shoulder Of  Christ from carrying the cross 01:12:48 David Swiderski, WI: I have realized in the past few years my efforts still lead to faults it is only begging let me love you more that grace seems to come and while I cherish it I know I am full of faults daily.. I just keep the hand outstretched hoping to be more than I am. 01:14:22 John ‘Jack': Reacted to "I have realized in the past few years my efforts still lead to faults it is only begging let me love you more that grace seems to come and while I cherish it I know I am full of faults daily.. I just keep the hand outstretched hoping to be more than I am." with

The Fathers insist that the spiritual life is decided long before words are spoken or actions are taken. It is decided in the hidden conversation of the heart. Every thought arrives carrying a question: Where have I come from, and where will I lead you? Most of us are far more careful about what enters our homes than what enters our minds. Yet a single unexamined thought can become a passion, a passion can become a habit, and a habit can slowly become our character. This is why the desert fathers watched their thoughts with such sobriety. They knew that not every thought deserved hospitality. Some thoughts came from grace and awakened gratitude. Others came from pride, fear, resentment, or the enemy himself. The tragedy is not that these thoughts appear. The tragedy is that we welcome them without interrogation, allowing them to settle into the heart until we can no longer distinguish their voice from our own. The holy elders possessed a remarkable gift: they could transform every circumstance into a call to God. A successful businessman became a lesson in zeal. A builder became a reminder to build the dwelling place of God within the soul. Even the sight of an actress moved Abba Pambo not to judgment but to tears for his own lack of love. The purified heart instinctively translates earthly events into heavenly instruction. The impure heart does exactly the opposite. It converts every blessing into comparison, every success into competition, every disappointment into accusation. Few passions reveal this distortion more clearly than guile. Guile is not merely deception. It is the division of the heart. It is smiling while secretly resenting, praising while inwardly competing, speaking peace while quietly nourishing suspicion. Such a soul gradually loses the capacity for prayer because prayer demands truth. We cannot stand honestly before God while wearing masks before one another. The Fathers therefore speak with startling severity: every spiritual labor is endangered when the heart becomes divided. Not because God withdraws His mercy, but because we ourselves have become strangers to simplicity. Then comes envy, perhaps the most hidden of all passions. Envy is sorrow at another's good. It cannot rejoice because someone else has received a gift. It quietly interprets another's blessing as a personal loss. Left unchecked, it poisons relationships, communities, and even prayer itself. The envious person eventually sees enemies where there are none and offenses where none were intended. Yet the astonishing wisdom of St. Maximos the Confessor goes even further. He does not merely tell us to endure the envious person. He tells us to protect him. This is extraordinarily difficult because envy is often irrational. It does not respond to logic because it was not born of logic. At times love requires us to conceal what would unnecessarily inflame another's weakness, not because the passion is justified, but because the person is precious. We do not accommodate sin; we make every reasonable effort to prevent a brother from being consumed by it. This requires profound humility. It means surrendering the need always to be understood, always to defend ourselves, always to insist upon our rights. There are moments when charity quietly accepts misunderstanding if doing so protects a weaker soul from falling deeper into darkness. Such restraint is not weakness. It is cruciform love. Of course, there are limits. The Fathers never ask us to cooperate with falsehood or deprive many for the sake of one person's passion. Truth remains truth. The common good must still be served. But within those boundaries, love willingly bears burdens that reason alone would reject. Perhaps this is one of the hardest lessons in the Christian life. Our responsibility is not merely to conquer our own passions but also to walk carefully enough that we do not become occasions for another's destruction. We cannot heal another's envy, but we can refuse to feed it. We cannot remove another's guile, but we can answer it without becoming guileful ourselves. We cannot prevent every misunderstanding, but we can choose humility over self-vindication whenever love allows. The spiritual life is therefore not simply about becoming holy. It is about becoming safe. A heart purified by Christ becomes a place where others are not provoked toward darkness but quietly invited toward light. Such a soul examines every thought before believing it, every word before speaking it, every action before defending it. It asks not only, “Is this true?” but also, “What will this produce in me and in my brother?” For every thought has a destination. Every hidden movement of the heart is already becoming tomorrow's life. The wise Christian learns to discern the path while it is still only a whisper. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:28:19 James Hickman: No disagreement here, but sometimes I wonder why the elders don't go and repent on her behalf or go preach to her or something named in the story. He's just sad, it seems, that her soul is lost. But I think there must be more. 00:28:21 Forrest: The Greek has "lecherous men", not "dregs of humanity" 00:29:57 James Hickman: Yes, that makes sense. 00:31:41 Danny Moulton: St. Jghn Chrysostom had a lot to say about the theater.  Apparently there were also alot of theater goers back then. 00:37:27 Julie: It's like as if death we regard as far off or spend our time planning for this life and not as much or more for our souls destiny 00:40:44 Danny Moulton: Does God sometimes use big egos to create things of great beauty that serves generations of the faithful? I'm think of some of the great classical artists/ sculptors, but it might be other things like certain lasting institutions. I hope they all had loe of God, but ego seemed to play a large role for some of them. 00:43:06 James Hickman: The artist's art seems to reveal the interior life that might be hidden on the surface by a man's rough edges 00:43:28 Kathryn Rose: Reacted to "The artist's art ..." with ❤️ 00:44:08 Julie: Like Caravaggio 00:44:36 James Hickman: Chiesa Nuova 00:45:14 Julie: I can't turn camera around 00:46:16 John ‘Jack': St Hildegard was known as quite an artist 00:47:48 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 42, A. 00:56:02 James Hickman: Re: secret contempt for your brother: My friends said they put all their kids in the same bedroom to force them to deal with their emotions. They can't just storm back to their own bedroom when frustrated. The kids learn to process and forgive/ask forgiveness. It made me think of the Rule of St. Benedict having all the monks sleep in the same dormitory. 00:57:19 Danny Moulton: Sons of THunder 01:03:53 Danny Moulton: actually referring to the snoring 01:04:12 James Hickman: Reacted to "actually referring to the snoring" with

The Fathers place before us a vision of the human person that is almost unbearable in its simplicity and demands. We do not live with others because we have learned techniques of communication or conflict resolution. We can live with others only to the degree that we fear God and have begun to see all men as one. This is why the Elder says that if we remembered how Lot was saved because he condemned no one, we could live even among wild beasts. The greatest beasts are often not around us but within us: our judgments, our suspicions, our secret comparisons, our readiness to define another by his weaknesses. We imagine that our difficulties with others arise from their faults. The Fathers suggest something far more painful—that we cannot live with others because we have not yet learned to love them. Judgment begins in the mind long before it reaches the lips. St. Ephraim is remarkably precise: “Do not disparage a layman in your mind.” We may preserve an outward courtesy while inwardly diminishing another. We may smile while secretly placing ourselves above them. Yet the Lord alone knows the secrets of the heart. Every judgment is, in some measure, an attempt to occupy God's place. The Elder who struggled for twenty years to see all men as one reveals something essential about holiness. The spiritual life is not an effort to become extraordinary. It is the gradual dismantling of every illusion of separateness. The one before me is not an interruption of my life, nor an obstacle to my peace, nor an object for my evaluation. He is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. His wound is my wound. His weakness is my weakness. His salvation and mine are mysteriously intertwined. From such a vision arises great care regarding scandal. The Fathers are astonishingly sensitive about harming another's heart. They ask not merely, “Is this permissible?” but, “Will this burden my brother? Will this put troubling thoughts in his mind? Will this diminish his peace?” Love willingly limits itself for the sake of another's weakness. At the same time, the Fathers teach us not to become scandalized ourselves. The Egyptian monks judged the brethren of Sketis because they saw them eating hungrily. They knew nothing of their ascetic labors. How often we do the same. We glimpse one action and construct an entire narrative around it. We see a person's fatigue and call it laziness. We witness their weakness and imagine mediocrity. We know almost nothing, yet judge as though we know everything. Discernment requires humility. We do not excuse sin, but neither do we presume to know the secrets of another's struggle. Love leaves room for mystery. It says quietly, “Perhaps there is a story here that I do not know.” The Fathers also insist that when we have harmed another, even unintentionally, we should hasten to bring peace to their heart. If our words or actions have troubled our brother, our concern is not our reputation, nor our fear of humiliation, but the healing of communion. We make a prostration because the wound of another cannot be regarded as someone else's problem. We are one body. To see all men as one is to become incapable of contempt. It is to walk through life gently. It is to guard the minds of others from unnecessary burdens and to guard our own minds from suspicion and judgment. It is to honor every person for the Lord's sake and to remember that each human being stands before God bearing hidden wounds, secret battles, and unspoken grief. Perhaps the struggle of twenty years described by the Elder is the work of an entire lifetime. Yet this is the path of the Kingdom: to become so united to Christ that we begin to look upon every human face and say, “This one, too, is my own.” --- Text of chat during the group: 00:02:42 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 31 paragraph 37 End of Hypothesis II 00:44:23 James Hickman: “Wanted to put them at ease…” Nun Christina translates this line “Learning this, the presbyter sought to heal them.” The healing of discipline puts us at ease — the grace of humility will, it seems, remove us of the ailment of (or passion) of judgment, judging others. 00:47:32 James Hickman: The healing seems to have worked…”The Egyptians repented and left with joy, having been helped by the experience.” 00:53:56 Danny Moulton: I find it can also feel manipulative 00:54:44 Danny Moulton: right 01:05:31 James Hickman: The elder spoke boldly words of rebuke to the visiting monks from Scetis and those monks were healed by his stern correction. It was medicinal. 01:08:56 Forrest: Can I ask James Hickman how Nun Christina has translated these?  The Greek word in the text is not παρρησία(FRANKNESS), but Ἐλευθερία (FREEDOM). And I think that shifts the meaning of this last one in particular.  There was a previous hypothesis about Parrhesia. 01:09:33 James Hickman: Yes, boldness of speech has been translated by her as freedom the last few paragraphs 01:09:58 Forrest: Freedom seems more appropriate, to me. 01:12:49 John ‘Jack': It would seem that if we TRULY spoke in love we should be free and bold in speech. 01:15:50 Julie: For me an example, I made scones at 9 pm for my husband, with cream and berry jam all layer out nicely, He ate said nothing walked away and I waited for his thanks 01:16:15 James Hickman: Reacted to "For me an example, I made scones at 9 pm for my husband, with cream and berry jam all layer out nicely, He ate said nothing walked away and I waited for his thanks" with ❤️ 01:16:19 John ‘Jack': Reacted to "For me an example, I made scones at 9 pm for my husband, with cream and berry jam all layer out nicely, He ate said nothing walked away and I waited for his thanks" with

In today's episode, Toast is joined by John, Jack, Justin (White Guy), and Tommy to recap the madness that is the 2026 World Cup so far!!--NOTE-- This episode was recorded on 6/29.Intro Song - "Mistakes" - 90's Old School Boom Bap Beat | Sad Piano | Underground Hip Hop Instrumental (https://tinyurl.com/bdfsnanr)

Property Perspectives Topic: Property auction market poised for 50% growth Guest: John Jack, Galetti Corporate Real Estate CEO

There are passages in St. Isaac that seem less like theology and more like glimpses through an opened door into the Kingdom. These words are among them. He speaks of a table around which those who fast, keep vigil, and labor in the Lord gather. Yet he is not describing merely an ascetical fellowship or a pious community of like-minded people. Something infinitely greater is taking place. The Beloved Himself reclines in their midst. The angels overshadow them. The bitterness of their struggles is transformed into ineffable sweetness. Earth and Heaven become one. How impoverished our understanding of communion often is. We think of fellowship as friendship, conversation, common interests, or shared projects. St. Isaac speaks of something far more profound. Communion arises when hearts are turned together toward God. It is born of a shared hunger. It comes into being when men and women desire the Lord above all things and seek Him with simplicity of heart. Such souls begin, as it were, to breathe the same air. The desert fathers understood this deeply. The bond between them was not built primarily upon personality or affinity. They recognized in one another a common thirst for God. Their love arose from seeing another soul struggling toward the same Kingdom, carrying the same burden, shedding the same tears, and longing for the same Face. This is why the company of the saints becomes so sweet. One can sit in silence with such souls and experience a communion deeper than many conversations. One can eat their frugal bread and feel nourished. One can hear a few simple words from their lips and depart inwardly changed. Their very presence becomes sacramental because their hearts have become places of divine habitation. Indeed, St. Isaac dares to say that their table is sweeter than musk and precious perfumes. Why? Because Christ Himself is there. Perhaps many of us have tasted something of this together as fellow pilgrims sitting at the feet of the fathers. Though separated by thousands of miles and unknown to one another in ordinary ways, there has emerged a real communion among us. We have breathed the same air. We have sat before the same elders. We have listened to the same words of Abba Isaac, Abba Arsenius, and the great company of witnesses. We have found ourselves drawn toward the same beauty and compelled toward the same repentance. This communion cannot be explained by sociology or common interests. It is born from a shared turning toward God. And this is why our reading of the fathers must never become merely informational. One can know every saying of the desert and remain untouched. One can quote Isaac and remain hard of heart. One can speak eloquently about prayer while never having prayed. The fathers are not information to be mastered. They are witnesses before whom we sit as children. We come to them as disciples. We come to them docile and teachable. We suspend judgment and lay aside the need to be experts. We allow ourselves to be questioned, exposed, and gradually transformed by what we hear. We sit quietly before these saints because they themselves are sitting quietly before Christ. This is where communion is born. As the heart is purified, our vision changes. We begin to perceive the image and likeness of Christ in one another with greater clarity. The other person ceases to be a rival, an annoyance, or merely a personality to be managed. He becomes mystery. She becomes icon. Every human being becomes one for whom Christ died and one in whom the hidden beauty of God waits to be revealed. This is the reality we must foster in our homes, our monasteries, our parishes, and our friendships. Not mere association. Not the exchange of religious information. Not even activity done in God's name. Rather, we must cultivate together a common hunger for God. For where men and women gather with hearts turned toward Him, desiring Him above all things, the Beloved still reclines in their midst. The angels still draw near. The waters of life still well up from within. And those who have learned to breathe the same air already begin, even now, to partake of the life of the Kingdom. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:02:05 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/nazareth-and-the-hidden-life 00:02:27 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 207 paragraph 14 00:19:39 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 207, #14, third paragraph on page 00:32:29 John ‘Jack': I have/had a dear freind who has a great love of cinema, action movies in particular, I had to tell him at one point that I found all the violence disheartening, he understood, we no longer share much time in common, as he is my former pastor 00:33:27 John ‘Jack': It was the superhero movies

The Fathers speak about judgment with a severity that can seem almost excessive to us. They speak of grace withdrawing, of years of tears and repentance, of visions of Christ refusing worship to one who condemned his brother. We recoil at this language because we do not see condemnation as they saw it. We think of it as a minor fault of speech, a passing irritation, a reasonable assessment of another's behavior. The Fathers saw it as an assault upon love itself. A brother is eating early on a Friday. One sentence escapes the lips: “You are eating at such an hour, and on a Friday?” Nothing more. No insult. No anger. Merely an observation with an edge of disapproval. And the grace of God departs. Why? Because in that instant the monk ceased to stand beside his brother and placed himself above him. The movement happened with the speed of lightning. One moment he was in humility; the next he had assumed the place of judge. This is the terrifying thing. Pride does not always arrive with fanfare. It can appear in a sigh. An eye-roll. A sarcastic remark. A sentence that begins, “I just don't understand how someone could…” A comment on social media. A conversation after church. A single word: “Ugh.” The Elder says, “Ugh,” upon hearing of another's bad reputation. A single exclamation. Then Golgotha appears before him. Christ does not rebuke him for fornication, theft, or apostasy. He says something infinitely more frightening: “Before I could pass judgment, he himself has condemned his brother.” In other words: You rushed ahead of Me. You seized what belongs to Me alone. How quickly we do this. We hear of someone's failure, and before our hearts have even softened, we have formed an opinion. We hear of a priest's collapse, a marriage's breakdown, a young person's confusion, a friend's inconsistency, and instantly the mind produces a verdict. We scarcely pause to remember our own darkness. The holy man says, with tears, “He sinned today, but I will surely sin tomorrow.” This is not pessimism. It is truth. The one who knows himself knows that every sin lies hidden within his own heart like sparks in dry grass. Circumstances differ. Opportunities differ. Temptations differ. But the same human nature exists in all. The same weakness. The same instability. If God withdrew His hand for an instant, who among us could stand? The Fathers do not tell us to deny evil. They do not call sin virtue. They simply insist that whenever we see another fall, our first thought should be: There, but for the mercy of God, am I. And then something remarkable happens. The sinner ceases to be an object of analysis and becomes a brother who is wounded. The question is no longer, “How could he do that?” It becomes, “Lord, have mercy upon him—and upon me.” This is why the Elder says that if you see someone sinning with your own eyes, you should first cry out, “Anathema to you, Satan!” The enemy is not your brother. The enemy is the one who delights in dividing us from one another, who tempts one man into sin and another into condemnation. He wins both ways. One falls into the pit. The other stands above the pit congratulating himself. Both are wounded. The Fathers say that nothing harms Christians and monastics more than mutual condemnation. Nothing. Not persecution. Not poverty. Not weakness. But condemnation. Because condemnation makes love impossible. One cannot bear another's burdens while sitting upon the tribunal. One cannot weep for a brother while despising him. One cannot pray from the depths of the heart for someone whom one secretly regards as inferior. The judging heart is incapable of communion. And perhaps this is why the Fathers tremble so greatly before this passion. To condemn another is not merely to commit a fault of speech. It is to act contrary to the entire ethos of the Gospel. We ourselves live only by mercy. Every breath, every confession, every Eucharist, every hope of salvation rests entirely upon mercy. How strange, then, that beggars of mercy become so quickly its gatekeepers. How terrifying that those who stand daily in need of forgiveness can pronounce sentences against others with such speed. The Fathers ask something harder. When another sins, descend. Accuse yourself. Weep. Pray. Remember your own fragility. And if a harsh judgment escapes your lips—as it so often does—repent immediately. Do not excuse it as honesty, discernment, or concern for standards. Call it what it is: a moment in which pride outran love and sought to sit where only Christ may sit. Then return to your place. Not upon the judgment seat. But at the foot of Golgotha. Beside the thieves. Beside all sinners. Beside your brother. Beside yourself. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:15:39 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 29 paragraph 28 00:35:42 forrest: Do I understand the story correctly, there are 4 monks involved? The two sharing a cell, and two elders. 00:36:43 Fr Martin, Arizona: It seem to me that these stories of community members or (even spouses) that become discontented is part of the temptation of acedia, in that we are in the vocation we love and with the person we love but this distaste attacks one to the point that he or she just goes through the motions of vocation or community rather than with devotion or cheerfulness to the vocation or other. What do you think? 00:37:20 Kevin Burke: Reacted to "It seem to me that these stories of community members or (even spouses) that become discontented is part of the temptation of acedia, in that we are in the vocation we love and with the person we love but this distaste attacks one to the point that he or she just goes through the motions of vocation or community rather than with devotion or cheerfulness to the vocation or other. What do you think?" with

In today's episode, Toast is joined by John, Jack and Justin (white guy) to preview this years World Cup tournament!!--NOTE-- This episode was recorded on 6/11.Intro Song - "Mistakes" - 90's Old School Boom Bap Beat | Sad Piano | Underground Hip Hop Instrumental (https://tinyurl.com/bdfsnanr)

At first reading, Isaac's words can sound severe, even shocking. He speaks of idle speech as fornication, unhealthy attachments as adultery, and certain forms of companionship as idolatry. Yet behind these warnings lies something far deeper than moral anxiety. Isaac is not obsessed with sin. He is consumed with the preservation of desire for God. The entire homily is built upon a single conviction: the human heart was created for divine communion, and anything that captures its attention, dissipates its energy, or redirects its longing away from God becomes a threat to its deepest purpose. For Isaac, impurity begins long before outward acts. It begins when the heart loses its simplicity. When affection becomes possessive, when companionship becomes emotionally intoxicating, when curiosity about others replaces watchfulness over oneself, the soul gradually drifts from its center. The danger is not merely moral failure. The danger is fragmentation. This is why Isaac speaks so strongly about particular attachments and associations. He understands that the heart cannot be divided indefinitely. Every affection shapes desire. Every conversation leaves a trace. Every companionship either strengthens recollection of God or weakens it. His concern is especially acute regarding spiritual relationships because these can easily disguise passion beneath the appearance of virtue. A person may speak about holiness while secretly seeking emotional gratification, admiration, dependence, or control. One may appear spiritual while feeding hidden desires. This is why Isaac repeatedly returns to self-deception. The greatest danger is not obvious sin but the passions clothed in religious garments. Against this, Isaac presents another image: the elder who has guarded his heart through silence, purity of thought, humility, and disciplined speech. Such a person no longer seeks particular people to satisfy hidden needs. He loves everyone equally because his heart has become free. Compassion has replaced possession. Love has become universal because it no longer springs from lack. This is the perfection Isaac describes. The issue, then, is not whether one has relationships. It is whether one's relationships nourish the fire of God or extinguish it. For Isaac, solitude is not an end in itself. Silence is not a technique. Withdrawal is not misanthropy. All of these exist to protect a flame. The Holy Spirit has kindled a fire within the heart, and that fire is delicate. Excessive familiarity, endless conversation, emotional entanglements, and worldly distractions scatter the mind and cool the soul. Yet Isaac is careful to make one exception. There are companions who do not extinguish the fire but increase it. There are friendships rooted in God. There are conversations that awaken the soul, expose the passions, deepen humility, and enlarge desire for divine things. Such communion is not a distraction from the spiritual life but one of its greatest supports. The test is simple: after leaving someone's company, does the heart burn more brightly for God or less? Everything in this passage revolves around that question. Isaac's warnings are not expressions of fear. They are acts of protection. He sees the heart as a sanctuary and desire for God as its most precious treasure. Therefore he urges vigilance, not because human relationships are evil, but because divine love is so extraordinarily precious. The entire passage can be reduced to a single plea: Guard the fire. Choose companions who increase it. Flee whatever diminishes it. And allow your love to become so purified that it belongs to everyone because it belongs first to God. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:09:26 James Hickman: Father, I was away for about a year…moved across the county and my faith formation role was on Wednesday evenings 00:09:50 James Hickman: I have loved The Watchful Mind…love your recommendation…summer break 00:11:05 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/nazareth-and-the-hidden-life 00:12:21 Anna: 91 in GA right now 00:13:28 Anna: My grandpa had his first class relic 00:16:38 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/nazareth-and-the-hidden-life 00:16:54 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 206, #11, last paragraph, Fr. A said we should get back to the 2nd sentence. 00:31:04 James Hickman: “…his heart is grievously injured.” Is Isaac speaking of the older monk, ie the one at fault? If so, I like Isaac's compassion to warn against the danger the offended faces. We don't want anyone's heart injured, whether a potential offender or a potential victim. 00:37:51 Bob Čihák, AZ: The double negative in the last sentence of the paragraph tends to confuse my weakening mind. 00:42:37 David Swiderski, WI: It is interesting the human brain only matures after 25 years old. I think most parents can capture this as the entire idea of consequences does not develop till after that. That is why around the world to rent a car you need to be 25. I see people below this age as children still developing but I see others that year to live again in a world without consequences. 00:43:05 Anna: Too often we run to therapy versus running to Christ in prayer and confession 00:44:03 una: Can you speak to how to have a solid spiritual friendship between consecrated people or with priests/monks 00:46:14 Nypaver Clan: Reacted to "It is interesting th..." with

Today we have our first Tuesday Coffee Chat with John Willis of SOE Tactical Gear and Nicole Sauce of Living Free in Tennessee. These discussions are always a wildcard and can go anywhere. We usually hit on some current events of course. We also tend to talk about things like entrepreneurship, homesteading and a ton more. In general we try to inspire you a bit, make you laugh a few times, entertain you and teach you a thing or two along the way. Today though we went down many rabbit holes about why people fail in life and some conspiracy … Continue reading →

There is something in us that wants to make the spiritual life clear, manageable, and measurable. We fast. We give alms. We pray. We examine ourselves. And quietly, almost imperceptibly, something begins to form beneath it all: A self that stands. A self that knows. A self that can look at another and say, “At least I am not like that.” The Evergetinos tears this apart without mercy. ⸻ A brother hears something about his neighbor and believes it. Of course he does. Because it confirms something already living in his heart. A readiness to see another as fallen, compromised, lesser. The Elder does not argue facts. He strikes at the root. If God Himself did not judge without seeing, why do you? This is not about caution. It is about a refusal to participate in the hidden violence of the fallen heart. Because judgment is never neutral. It is a movement away. ⸻ The Elder takes a wisp of straw. Then he points to a beam. This is not a moral exaggeration meant to humble us. It is a revelation of reality. The one who sees clearly does not see himself as slightly better than others. He sees himself as the one most in need of mercy. Not as an idea. Not as a pious posture. But as something that crushes comparison entirely. ⸻ We think the problem is that we judge too harshly. The Fathers say something far more disturbing. The problem is that we see ourselves as separate. As individuals standing before God, each with our own moral ledger. This is not Christianity. ⸻ We have become something new. Not improved individuals. Not morally refined versions of ourselves. But members of a Body. A single life. A single love. A single Christ. To judge another is not simply to misjudge. It is to tear the Body. It is to reject a member of Christ. It is to step outside love. ⸻ Abba Pambo says nothing for four days. Because the question itself is wrong. Am I saved by this? Am I saved by that? The mind wants metrics. God waits for the heart. And when he finally speaks, the answer is devastating in its simplicity: Guard your heart from anger toward your brother. Everything else is secondary. Fasting will not save you. Almsgiving will not save you. Even great labors will not save you. If your heart stands against your brother, you remain outside the life you seek. ⸻ We have reduced the faith to morality because it is easier. It allows us to measure. To compare. To justify ourselves. But love cannot be measured. And so we avoid it. ⸻ Abba Isaiah gives the image that exposes us completely. We are all in a waiting room. Each one wounded. Each one diseased in a different way. And what do we do? We turn to the one crying out in pain and ask, “Why are you like this?” It is madness. Because if I truly felt my own wound, I would not have the strength to judge another. Judgment is always a sign of distance from one's own heart. ⸻ The Fathers go further. They say that when you judge, you take the sin of the other upon yourself. Not symbolically. But actually. Because you have stepped out of mercy and into the place of God. And having abandoned mercy, you are left exposed. ⸻ This is why the holy man weeps when he sees another fall. Not out of sentiment. But out of knowledge. He has fallen today. I will fall tomorrow. This is the only safe ground. Not confidence. Not vigilance in the moral sense. But a kind of trembling solidarity. ⸻ We do not know how to live this. Because we do not yet believe what we are. We are not individuals trying to become good. We are beings brought into Love. Beings in Love. And the only way to exist within that reality is to relate to every other person from within that same love. Not because they deserve it. Not because we have judged them worthy. But because there is no other way to remain in Christ. ⸻ To judge is to step out. To love is to remain. ⸻ And this is where the teaching becomes unbearable. Because it leaves us with no ground. No superiority. No identity. No hidden place to stand. Only this: You are wounded. Your brother is wounded. Christ alone is the physician. Stay in the waiting room. Attend to your own disease. And when you look at another, do so as one who shares the same life, the same fall, the same desperate need for mercy. ⸻ Anything less is not Christianity. It is a religion of the self. And it cannot save. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:06:23 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Volume III page 10 Section 4 00:15:01 John ‘Jack': Good evening Father 00:18:09 Bob Čihák, AZ: Volume III page 10 Section 4 00:18:14 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Volume III page 10 Section 4 00:31:13 Julie: Sometimes I find myself thinking I'm discerning but  I'm really judging 00:31:35 Nypaver Clan: Reacted to "Sometimes I find mys..." with

There is something in this word from Isaac the Syrian that unsettles us a little. Because it speaks of a beauty that is not crafted, not projected, not explained. A beauty that simply… shines. He does not describe a monk as someone who teaches, persuades, or convinces. He speaks of a life so permeated by grace that even the enemies of truth, simply by looking, are pierced. Not by argument. Not by brilliance. But by something that cannot be imitated. The beauty of a life in Christ. And this is where the word becomes very personal. Because what he is describing is not first a role. It is not even limited to the monastic state in an external sense. It is the inner life that has begun to be born within a person when grace is no longer treated as an idea, but as something living… something fragile… something holy. Something that must be protected. There is a tendency in us to think of holiness as something we build. Virtue as something we accumulate. A kind of visible coherence. But Isaac speaks of something else entirely. He speaks of a life that has become transparent. Where nothing blocks the light. Where the heart has been so simplified, so purified, so stripped of its constant grasping, that what is within begins to radiate without effort. And yet, the way he describes this is striking. Silence. Watchfulness. Non-possession. Guarding the senses. Cutting off contention. Brevity of speech. Forgetfulness of wrongs. At first glance, it can feel severe. Even excessive. But it is not severity. It is protection. Because something has been born. And it is easily lost. Grace does not impose itself. It does not force its way to the surface of our lives. It is given quietly. Almost secretly. It begins like a small flame in the heart. And everything Isaac names is not meant to produce that flame. It is meant to guard it. To keep it from being extinguished by the winds that constantly move through us—distraction, judgment, curiosity, the need to be seen, the need to speak, the need to defend ourselves, the subtle violence of opinion, the constant turning outward. This is why he speaks of watchfulness over the eyes. Because what we allow in, shapes what remains within. This is why he speaks of brevity in speech. Because words, when unguarded, scatter the heart. This is why he speaks of cutting off contention. Because even when we are right, we can lose what is infinitely more precious than being right. There is something in us that resists this. It feels like diminishment. Like becoming smaller. Less engaged. Less visible. Less… alive. But the opposite is true. What he describes is the birth of a life that is no longer dependent on being seen, affirmed, or justified. A life that has begun to live from another source. And this is the mystery. The more this life is hidden, the more it becomes luminous. The more it is protected, the more it becomes a refuge. The more it is guarded in silence, the more it begins to speak—without words—to the world. This is why he can say that the monk becomes a place others run to. Not because he is accessible. But because he is real. Because there is something in him that has not been compromised. Something that has not been traded away. Something that has been kept. And this is where the word becomes a question. Very quietly. Very honestly. What in your life have you not protected? What has been given to you… that you have allowed to be scattered? What has been born in moments of prayer, of stillness, of suffering, of grace… that was real… that was alive… and yet was lost because it was not guarded? Not out of malice. But out of forgetfulness. The Fathers are not calling us to severity. They are calling us to reverence. Toward what God Himself has begun within us. Because the tragedy is not that we are weak. The tragedy is that we do not recognize what has been given. And so we treat lightly what is holy. The monk, in Isaac's vision, is simply the one who refuses to do that. Who begins—slowly, imperfectly—to live as though what has been planted in the heart is more precious than anything else. More precious than being understood. More precious than being right. More precious than being known. And in doing so, something begins to happen. The life of Christ is no longer something he believes in. It becomes something that can be seen. Not dramatically. Not visibly in the way the world measures things. But quietly. Like light through a window. And others… even without knowing why… begin to feel it. This is the beauty Isaac speaks of. Not an aesthetic. Not a perfection. But a life so carefully guarded, so gently protected, that it remains alive. And because it remains alive… it becomes light. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:11:10 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Homily 11 page 196 00:35:17 Dan: It's interesting, the thought of silence and interior monasticism. I took my oldest son to the NFL draft, and while walking downtown there were some street preachers with a microphone. Nobody paid any attention, nobody even made fun of them. Literally nobody cared. Real life examples seem to prove that striving to allow one's life to be transformed by grace is the only witness the world will even take notice of - especially in a world where the currency of words has been hyperinflated and devalued by social media, the 24/7 news cycle, and so on. 00:36:09 Nypaver Clan: Reacted to "It's interesting, th..." with

The shallow reader sees only a warning against suspicion. The deeper reader trembles, because this account unveils something far more demanding: the measure of a life so united to God that it no longer moves by ordinary instinct. Most men protect reputation. Most men avoid scandal. Most men keep a safe distance from misery so that their conscience remains clean and their name untarnished. St. Vitalios of Alexandria did none of this. He entered the place others cursed. He walked into darkness not to taste it, but to burn within it like hidden fire. He labored by day, ate almost nothing, gave his wages away, and spent whole nights standing in prayer for women whom society used, despised, and discarded. While others preached virtue from a distance, he purchased for them one night of freedom and filled that purchased silence with psalms, tears, prostrations, and intercession. This is not recklessness. It is sanctity. The prudent man says: “Protect yourself.” The holy man says: “Lose yourself.” The calculating man asks: “What will people think?” The saint asks: “Who will suffer if I do nothing?” The world calls such love foolish because it cannot recognize anything that does not orbit self-preservation. What made this possible? Not mere compassion. Not personality. Not activism. Not moral zeal. It was hypostatic life: the human person so opened to God that divine love begins to move through human faculties. The man remains man, yet his heart becomes a place where another will acts, another mercy breathes, another courage rises. He does not merely imitate Christ. Christ lives in him. So he can go where others cannot go. He can endure slander without defense. He can accept blows without retaliation. He can bear misunderstanding without explaining himself. He can love those who insult him. He can save those whom others have already condemned. This is why the story wounds us. We do not simply condemn others. We also love within limits. We forgive within limits. We serve within limits. We give when it costs little. We remain charitable so long as our image stays intact. We call this balance, prudence, maturity. Often it is fear wearing respectable clothing. St. Vitalios of Alexandria accepted the loss of reputation as the price of hidden obedience. He let the city think him filthy while heaven knew him radiant. Few can bear this martyrdom. Many would rather be praised for lesser virtues than despised for greater love. And see the fruit. Women were restored. The shameless learned chastity. The fallen found repentance. The violent man became a monk. The condemning city learned fear. The Patriarch gave thanks. One hidden man transformed a multitude. We live in an age obsessed with visibility, explanation, branding, image, and public vindication. We cannot bear to be misunderstood for an afternoon. Yet the saints often accepted misunderstanding for years. Why? Because once the heart belongs wholly to God, reputation becomes dust. The final words of the Elder are written not in ink, but on the ground. Dust speaking to dust: Judge nothing before the time. Not because evil is unreal. Not because discernment is unnecessary. But because what you see is almost never the whole story. The woman you dismiss may be one night from repentance. The man you mock may be a saint in disguise. The soul you slander may be carrying a cross you cannot imagine. And the one you most confidently condemn may be the vessel through whom God is saving many. If you would know whether Christ lives in you, ask not how pious you appear. Ask this: Can you love where there is no reward? Can you serve where you will be misjudged? Can you descend where others recoil? Can you lose your good name for another's salvation? Can you remain silent while God alone knows? There begins the path of the saints. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:03:39 Janine: Yes 00:04:07 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Evergetinos Volume III page 2 section 2 00:05:06 Janine: Father ..do you think the Holy Spirit is dismantling us throughout our whole life? Or is it a later stage? 00:06:06 Janine: Yes..that makes sense! 00:11:20 Sam: Greetings

There is a humility that we speak about. And there is a humility that is given. The first is clean. Understandable. Manageable. The second is devastating. Saint Isaac does not speak of an idea. He speaks of a man who has seen something in himself, not once, but repeatedly, until illusion collapses. “A man who has reached this in truth and not in fancy…” This is the dividing line. Most of what we call humility is still fantasy. A posture. A tone. A self-perception. But true humility is born only when a man has been brought face to face with his own instability, his own powerlessness, his own inability to sustain even the smallest good without God. Not conceptually. Existentially. ⸻ This is why Isaac says that everything begins with the recognition of one's weakness. Not as an idea. But as a state of being. A man comes to see that he cannot hold himself together. He cannot secure his own heart. He cannot even pray without distraction, without resistance, without collapse. And from this recognition, something begins to cry out. Not beautifully. Not eloquently. But desperately. Out of need. Out of poverty. Out of a knowledge that if God does not draw near, he will fall apart. This is the beginning of real prayer. Not devotion. Dependence. ⸻ And yet here is the scandal. God does not always respond as we expect. He draws near . . . yes. But not always by removing the trial. Not always by granting the request. Sometimes He withholds. Not out of indifference, but out of wisdom. Because the very delay becomes the means by which the soul is held near Him. Isaac dares to say that God defers His help so that the man will not depart. So that he will remain in prayer. Remain in need. Remain in proximity. This is not cruelty. It is a love that refuses to let the soul return to self-sufficiency. ⸻ And more troubling still: God permits temptation. Not always. But at times. The assault comes. The fire burns. The instability is exposed again. And the man cries out: Why? Why does God not remove this? Why does He allow this struggle to continue? Isaac answers with a severity we would rather avoid: So that you may learn war. So that you may be instructed. So that you may know. Not in theory, but in experience; that without Him, you are nothing. ⸻ This is where humility is forged. Not in peace. But in exposure. Not in success. But in repeated failure. Not in clarity. But in the confusion of being unable to sustain oneself. The man who does not know this, Isaac says, walks on a razor's edge. He may appear stable. Even virtuous. But he stands near the lion. The demon of pride. Because without the knowledge of one's weakness, the soul inevitably attributes its stability to itself. And this is the beginning of the fall. ⸻ Humility cannot be acquired directly. It cannot be chosen as a virtue. It must be given through conditions that undo the illusion of strength. Through delay. Through struggle. Through temptation. Through the repeated discovery that one is not what one thought. This is why Isaac says that humility is acquired only by humility's own means. Which is to say: By being brought low. By being shown the truth. By having the inner architecture of conceit quietly dismantled. ⸻ And here the most piercing word emerges. Without humility, a man's work is not perfected. Even if it appears good. Even if it appears fruitful. It does not rise above fear. It is not sealed by the Spirit. It remains within the realm of the self. Unstable. Vulnerable. Unfounded. Because only humility forms the foundation that cannot be shaken. A city built on humility stands. A life built on anything else trembles. ⸻ And so we must ask: What if the very things we are trying to escape, the delay, the dryness, the temptation, the instability, are the very means by which God is drawing us near? What if the unanswered prayer is the mercy? What if the struggle that does not cease is the protection? What if the exposure of our weakness is the only way we will ever become real? ⸻ We want relief. God desires communion. We want stability. God gives us Himself. And He will not allow us to possess Him as long as we believe we can stand without Him. ⸻ The widow cries out before the unjust judge. Relentlessly. Without dignity. Without restraint. Because she knows she has no other hope. Isaac places this image before us for a reason. This is the posture of the humble man. Not composed. Not self-contained. But persistent. Needy. Unashamed. Because he has seen the truth. ⸻ In the end, humility is not thinking less of oneself. It is knowing, without illusion, that one cannot live without God. And not merely knowing it, but remaining there. In prayer. In need. In trembling. Afraid not of punishment, but of losing the nearness of God. ⸻ This is the paradox. The man who is weak becomes unshakable. Because his life is no longer founded on himself. But on the One who draws near to the broken. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:01:00 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 186 para 5 00:07:13 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 186, #5, second paragraph 00:07:51 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://mailchi.mp/f5f7aa457031/bb0iyi082g 00:08:20 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Registration link for retreat 00:13:56 John ‘Jack': Will join you in spirit Father 00:14:32 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://mailchi.mp/f5f7aa457031/bb0iyi082g 00:17:51 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 186, #5, second paragraph 00:19:32 Eleana Urrego: Page? 00:20:15 Eleana Urrego: please 00:20:28 David Swiderski, WI: P 186, #5, second paragraph 00:21:35 Eleana Urrego: Replying to "P 186, #5, second pa..." Thank you! 00:30:15 Ben: Anna: Father, in theory I understand not seeking out distractions and being present in the reality, but what about when one's reality is unbearable?  When we're exhausted, sick, unable to read or think deeply and even vocal prayer is heavy?  How does one direct that restlessness towards God? 00:30:21 Adam Paige: Speaking of repentance and uprooting the passions.. a very blessed feast of Saint Mary of Egypt to all ☦️ 00:44:32 Jessica McHale: Reacted to "Speaking of repent..." with ❤️ 00:45:28 John ‘Jack': When folks  ask “how are you” lately rather than saying a half hearted “good.” I say “better today than yesterday, better tomorrow than today” I catches them delightfully off guard and opens some wonderful conversations 00:45:39 David Swiderski, WI: This reminds me of a story common in Latin America and not far from the truth of many humble and simple people I encountered in churches which always inspires me. 00:45:49 David Swiderski, WI: A priest was walking through the church at noon. Passing the altar, he decided to stay nearby to see who came to pray. The door opened and he frowned as a man walked down the aisle—unshaven, wearing a torn shirt and a worn‑out coat with frayed edges. The man knelt briefly, bowed his head, then left. For several days, always at noon, the same man entered, knelt for a moment, and walked out. The priest, uneasy, began to suspect he might be a thief. One day he stopped him and asked what he was doing. The man explained he worked nearby and had only a short lunch break, so he came to pray. “I only stay a moment,” he said. “The factory is far, so I kneel and say: ‘Lord, I just came again to tell you, Jesus, how happy I am when you free me from my sins. I don't know how to pray well, but I think of you every day. So Jesus, this is Jaime reporting.'” 00:58:49 John ‘Jack': I've recently heard (Ren; in one your older conferences, sorry Father

We want to help. We want to fix. We want to speak the right word at the right time and be the instrument of someone's healing. And hidden beneath all of it, almost always, is something far less pure. We do not trust that God can work without us. ⸻ The Fathers cut through this illusion without mercy, but not without compassion. A man begins to speak and sees that his heart is stirred by vainglory. Not always in the moment. Sometimes afterward. The sweetness comes later. The memory of being useful. Of being seen. Of being right. So he asks the obvious question. Should I remain silent? The Elder refuses the simplicity of that escape. Silence is not purity if it is chosen to protect one's image. Speech is not corruption if it is offered in obedience. The issue is not whether you speak or remain silent. The issue is whether you are willing to be exposed. If a word must be spoken for the sake of another, then speak it. But do not pretend you are clean. Do not wait until your heart is free of vainglory. It will not be. Speak, and then stand before God and accuse yourself. “I spoke with vainglory.” This is the path. Not control. Not perfection. But truth. ⸻ We prefer another way. We want to purify our motives before acting. We want to feel clean before we speak. We want to be certain that what we say is necessary, righteous, even indispensable. This is fantasy. It is a refined form of pride. ⸻ The Fathers show us something far more severe. There are times when speaking is required. There are times when silence is required. And we are rarely capable of discerning which is which on our own. So we are placed under obedience. When something disturbs us, we assume it must be addressed. We feel the agitation in the heart and call it discernment. We speak to relieve ourselves and call it charity. The Elder names it plainly. If you speak to quiet your own heart, you have already fallen. This is devastating. Because it exposes how much of what we call concern is nothing more than self-protection. We do not want the discomfort. We do not want the tension. We do not want to suffer the presence of what is unresolved. So we speak. Not to heal. But to escape. ⸻ And when others are disturbed, we cloak ourselves even more skillfully. “I am speaking for them.” The Fathers do not deny that responsibility exists. But they strip it of illusion. You are not the healer. You are not the judge. You are not the one who must set things right. Bring it to the Abba. Submit it. Be freed from the illusion that everything depends on your intervention. This is where our resistance intensifies. Because submission feels like passivity. And passivity feels like failure. But what we are being asked to surrender is not action. It is control. ⸻ There is also fear. “If I speak, he will hate me.” The Elder calls this thought what it is. Evil. Not because the fear is imaginary, but because it shifts the center away from God to human reaction. It makes peace, reputation, and emotional safety the measure of truth. The image is stark. A sick man resents the physician. But the physician does not stop the treatment. If you are to act, act in God. Not to be liked. Not to be justified. Not to be safe. ⸻ And then the final blow. What if you see clearly that your desire to speak is poisoned? That you want to accuse, to expose, to correct in a way that elevates yourself? Then do not pretend. Do not remain silent in false righteousness. Do not speak in hidden judgment. Confess your sickness. Go to the Abba and say, “I want to accuse. I cannot purify my heart.” Now something real can begin. Not only the healing of your brother. But your own. ⸻ This is the truth we resist. God is not waiting for our perfect words. He is not dependent upon our interventions. He is not hindered by our silence. But He will not heal the heart that refuses to be seen as it is. ⸻ We want to be useful. The Fathers want us to be honest. Because only the honest man can be entrusted with speech. And only the one who has relinquished control can remain silent without bitterness. ⸻ In the end, the question is not this: Should I speak or remain silent? The question is this: Am I willing to let God work without securing a place for myself in the outcome? Until that is answered, both our silence and our speech will remain infected. And yet, even this is not the end. Speak when you must. Remain silent when you must. And in both, stand before God and say the only true word: “I am not pure. Have mercy.” --- Text of chat during the group: 00:02:58 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 373 Volume II number 4 00:07:46 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 373, # 4, top paragraph 00:09:54 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/the-fire-that-remains 00:14:14 Janine: Christ is Risen! 00:15:07 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/the-fire-that-remains 00:15:19 Bob Čihák, AZ: American English translation: You BET He's risen!!! 00:16:09 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 373, # 4, top paragraph 00:23:53 Maureen Cunningham: Job He get up and makes sac fries for his children . In case they would sin 00:58:22 John ‘Jack': Some of the best council I've ever received was “you're in a difficult situation” it wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it gave me immense clarity. 01:19:11 Danny Moulton: It seems that tonight's learnings require a great deal of trust that  God can handle another person's shortcomings without our "invaluable" help. 01:19:25 Nypaver Clan: Reacted to "It seems that tonigh..." with

There is a form of speech that wears the mask of righteousness and yet is born entirely of death. The Fathers tear this mask from our face. Mariam spoke what was true and was struck with leprosy. Truth did not save her. Because truth, when mixed with accusation, becomes poison. This is the terror. You may be right. You may see clearly. You may even discern accurately the fault of another. And still be condemned. Because the issue is not correctness. The issue is the heart. The Fathers do not ask “Was it true?” They ask “Why did you speak?” ⸻ The soul that delights in exposing another is already diseased. And God, in His terrible mercy, sometimes makes visible what is hidden. Mariam's flesh became white with corruption because her heart had already been corrupted. Her body told the truth that her tongue had concealed. The outward man became a mirror of the inward. This is the judgment of God. Not punishment as we imagine it but revelation. The hidden made visible. The secret made undeniable. ⸻ You think your words are small. A single remark. A passing judgment. A quiet disclosure. But the Fathers say this is not small. This is participation in the fall itself. The serpent did not strike Eve with violence. He spoke. And she listened. Calumny is not merely speech. It is communion with the serpent. ⸻ And yet the Fathers do not leave us in silence. They show a path but it is narrow and almost unbearable. To speak of another's sin may be necessary. But only under obedience. Only for healing. Only without passion. Only as one who trembles. Anything else is self-deception. Even the desire to justify yourself to prove that you spoke “out of love” is already corruption. Why do you need to be seen as righteous? Why do you need to be understood? This too is vainglory. ⸻ The true man of God hides himself. If he must speak he speaks as an instrument not as a judge. If he sins he condemns himself first. If he wounds another he falls before him and confesses without excuse. If the other does not know he remains silent and weeps before God alone. He does not “clarify.” He does not “explain.” He does not protect his image. Because he has renounced himself. ⸻ The Fathers reveal something we do not want to see. We do not speak to heal. We speak to elevate ourselves. Even our “discernment” is often nothing more than refined pride. We divide the Body of Christ and call it righteousness. We expose our brother and call it truth. We poison love and call it zeal. ⸻ But look at Mariam. Separated from her brother her own body became divided. Her flesh turned against her because her heart had turned against another. Division always returns to the one who creates it. This is the law of the spiritual life. ⸻ Life in Christ is not moral correctness. It is union. Union with God. Union with one another. And this union is so delicate so holy that even a single word spoken wrongly can tear it. ⸻ Therefore the Fathers cry out: Either rebuke with tears and trembling under obedience and love or remain silent. There is no middle ground. Because the tongue reveals the heart. And the heart will be judged. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:03:26 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 370 00:11:16 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/the-fire-that-remains 00:13:05 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 370, first paragraph 00:14:20 Jessica McHale: Sounds great! 00:28:01 Una: "It was like something you read in the newspaper," said Brendan Gleeson. Boom! LIke a Flannery O'Connor story (The Misfit). 00:31:58 jonathan: How do you bear the weight of the worlds sadness. I used to justify my detachment, by saying that if i had to 'consume' all the sadness and evil in the world, it would ruin me.  I cannot imagine how anyone could bear psychologically, the weight of the worlds evil. It would break the average man. 00:37:56 Forrest: What sadness do we know from natural means? Compared to unnatural (technological) means? When we detach from concentrated news feeds we are able to recognize the relationships close to us, and enter into THAT sadness, not the global world. 00:40:23 Lee Graham: Reacted to "What sadness do we k…" with ❤️ 00:40:54 Danny Moulton: In some sense sadness at a distance is safe sadness. 00:45:09 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 371, A 01:03:27 John ‘Jack': Sounds like we are being told to be meek and humble of ❤️ 01:14:42 Jason Fischer: When we are judgmental in a critical or self righteous way, aren't we attempting to play God? 01:19:46 iPad (2): That is wonderful! Thank you Father! 01:19:49 Paul Grazal: Look forward to it. 01:20:08 Maureen Cunningham: Thank you Blessing to all 01:20:51 Andrew Adams: Thanks be to God! Thank you, Father! 01:20:53 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:20:58 Jessica McHale: Thank You!!! Many, many, any Prayers! 01:20:59 jonathan: God bless you Fr 01:21:18 Bob Čihák, AZ: Bless you, Father. 01:21:19 Paul Grazal: good nite

“A heart that is broken and humbled, God will not despise.” ⸻ A man begins in need. Not in strength. Not in clarity. Not in light. He begins in the knowledge that he cannot sustain himself. That something is lacking. That without help from above he will collapse inward upon his own poverty. So he prays. Not once, but many times. Not with ease, but with insistence. He multiplies prayers because he feels his need multiplying within him. And in this repetition something begins to happen that he did not plan. His heart is broken. Not by violence, but by truth. For no man can stand long in supplication without being humbled. To beg is already to descend. To entreat is already to abandon self-sufficiency. And so the heart, once scattered and wandering, begins to be gathered. Humility draws it inward. It ceases to roam because it has found its place. The low place. And there, suddenly, everything changes. Mercy encircles him. Not as an idea, not as a consolation imagined, but as a presence that moves within him. A quiet strength. An assurance not born of reasoning. He perceives that help has come. That Another is acting. That he is no longer alone within himself. And this perception gives birth to faith. He understands now what prayer is. Not words cast into the air. Not effort straining toward heaven. But refuge. Shelter. Light. A staff in weakness. A shield in battle. A harbor in the storm. Everything he sought elsewhere is found here, hidden within this turning of the heart toward God. Prayer is no longer something he does. It becomes something he enters. And then, without warning, it becomes joy. The labor ceases. The heaviness lifts. The tongue that once struggled now moves with ease, or falls silent altogether. For the heart itself has begun to pray. It overflows. It glistens with assurance. It burns with a quiet knowledge that cannot be spoken. And from this burning, thanksgiving erupts. Not as duty. Not as obligation. But as astonishment. The soul, seized by the nearness of God, cannot contain itself. It bows, it trembles, it gives thanks. Sometimes in silence. Sometimes with a cry. Sometimes with a whisper that is more flame than sound. This is the prayer that is given. Not achieved. Not mastered. Given. And here the Christian life is revealed for what it truly is. Not discipline alone. Not struggle alone. But joy. A joy that is born only in the humbled heart. A joy that the world does not know. A joy that rises from the knowledge that God Himself has drawn near, and that all things are now held within Him. If you would learn to pray, do not seek words. Descend. Let your heart be broken. Remain there. And you will find that prayer is already waiting for you, not as effort, but as fire, as refuge, as joy that sends up thanksgiving without end. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:01:18 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 185 paragraph 2 00:13:05 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 185 paragraph 2 00:14:16 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 185 paragraph 2 00:15:57 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 185, 2 00:18:24 Eleana Urrego: Reacted to "P. 185, 2" with

After speaking in broad and sometimes severe lines about the struggle of the spiritual life, the holy elder begins to lower his voice. He does not abandon the path he has shown. He reveals what makes it possible to walk it. Not strength. Not resolve. Not mastery. But hope and humility. He speaks first of hope, not as an idea, but as a living trust in the providence of God. A man begins to see that his life is not held together by his own vigilance. There are moments he does not see, dangers he cannot anticipate, falls he cannot prevent. And yet he is preserved. A stone is about to fall. A wall begins to give way. Death itself draws near without warning. And still, God restrains it. Or quietly leads the man away. Or even permits the blow, yet removes its power to destroy. The heart that begins to perceive this does not become careless. It becomes peaceful. Hope is born when a man sees that his life is already in the hands of Another. This hope does not belong to the negligent or the indifferent. It is not given to one who abandons effort, but to one who labors and yet ceases to trust in his labor. He still acts, still watches, still struggles, but inwardly he has shifted his ground. He no longer leans upon his own understanding. He leans upon God. And from this, a strange boldness arises. Not presumption. Not testing God. But a quiet fearlessness. The soul begins to move through the world without the same anxious calculation, because it knows that even what it cannot foresee is already known. God becomes his constant concern. And so God becomes his constant care. ⸻ Then the elder turns, even more gently, to humility. He does not begin with virtue. He begins with weakness. “Blessed is the man who knows his own weakness.” Not the man who despises himself. Not the man who speaks harshly of himself. But the one who sees. This knowledge does not come through reflection alone. It is given. A man is allowed to be tempted. He struggles. He plans. He guards himself. He tries to secure peace through effort, discipline, vigilance. And yet he finds no rest. Fear remains. Trembling remains. The heart refuses to be stilled. Then, quietly, something is revealed. Not his failure, but his need. The soul begins to understand that no arrangement of its own can give it the certainty it seeks. All its hedging about, all its carefulness, all its ascetic labor—these are not enough to establish peace. And this is not a condemnation. It is a gift. Because at that moment, the heart turns. It begins to seek another help. A help that is not its own. A help that saves. Humility is born here, not as an achievement, but as a recognition. The man sees the distance between his weakness and God's strength, and in that seeing, he no longer trusts himself in the same way. He becomes watchful, not out of anxiety, but out of truth. He gathers himself inwardly, not out of fear, but out of clarity. He knows now that without God, he cannot stand. And with God, he does not need to be afraid. ⸻ Thus hope and humility meet. Hope says: God holds my life, even when I do not see how. Humility says: I cannot hold my life on my own. And together they open the path. Not a path of certainty as the world understands it. Not a path of control or self-assurance. But a path of quiet reliance. A man begins to walk it when he entrusts himself—again and again, in small and hidden ways—to the One who has already been carrying him all along. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:14:25 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 183, #6, last paragraph 00:15:15 Janine: That's a great book! Watchful mind 00:15:31 Bob Čihák, AZ: I'll take one! 00:15:54 Alan Henderson: I came in late, which books is he offering to give? 00:16:28 Art iPhone: The Watchful Mind was one . 00:16:29 Wayne: Already have a copy. 00:18:37 Andrew Adams: I'd be interested in both 00:18:44 Jessica McHale: Would love copies! 00:18:48 Maureen Cunningham: Wonderful a yes from  Ken and I 00:19:03 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 183, #6, last paragraph 00:19:44 Ursula McKenzie: I'd like both! Ursula 00:32:18 Ryan Ngeve: Father how far can one go with his ‘daring' before it is considered ‘testing the Lord' 00:35:17 Gwen's iPhone: I always been the told the ultimate way to tempt God is to commit suicide. 00:37:42 John ‘Jack': I sometimes wonder if the reason I don't feel anxious very often is that I've created a life for myself wherein I don't venture into “uncomfortable” or unknown situations.  I've expressed this concern to others before and they assure me I don't “play it safe” in this regard. I just hope they're being truthful and not just kind.  I dealt with anxiety often in my younger days. 00:37:59 Anna: It's also caused by medications or medical issues that are not related to psychology or satanic. 00:42:34 Maureen Cunningham: What you said a few  Wen. Ago about abuse that a person 00:42:56 Maureen Cunningham: Suffers one thing after another. 00:45:03 Erick Chastain: God seems to use difficult circumstances and anxiety-provoking situations to systematically destroy our self-reliance. Especially when we try to solve the situations as st isaac says, when we try to do so naturally in part. 00:45:25 Jessica McHale: Reacted to "God seems to use d..." with

“Faith has need of labors also, and confidence in God is the good witness of the conscience born of undergoing hardship for the virtues.” — St. Isaac the Syrian ⸻ There is a sobriety in St. Isaac's teaching on hope that cuts through every illusion of easy religion. He will not allow hope to become sentiment, nor will he permit it to be reduced to a desperate cry uttered only when life begins to collapse. The man whose heart is buried in earthly concerns, he says, eats “dust with the serpent.” His life is absorbed by distraction, indulgence, and negligence toward God. Yet when affliction comes he suddenly raises his hands and declares: “I shall hope in God.” For Isaac this is not hope at all. It is self-deception. True hope does not arise magically in moments of crisis. It is born slowly through a relationship with God cultivated over time through labor, repentance, and love. The soul that hopes in God has already spent itself for Him. It has struggled to keep His commandments. It has endured hardship for the sake of virtue. Hope therefore becomes the quiet testimony of a conscience that knows it has been walking with God. Faith without such labor is like grasping the wind. One cannot claim confidence in God while living carelessly before Him. Hope grows only in the soil of a life turned toward God with sincerity and effort. Yet Isaac's realism never becomes harsh. Even as he exposes the foolishness of a man who suddenly invokes God in the midst of self-inflicted trouble, he does not deny the mystery of divine mercy. God remains long-suffering. Even the negligent are often protected by a providence they scarcely notice. A traveler may unknowingly pass through danger — a wild beast, a murderer, a serpent hidden in the road — and yet be preserved by circumstances quietly arranged by God. This preservation is not a reward. It is mercy. In this way Isaac draws the reader into a profoundly relational vision of faith. God is not a mechanism to be activated in moments of distress. Nor is hope a formula that guarantees relief. Rather, hope grows within a living relationship between the human heart and the God who desires that heart. God seeks us patiently. But hope becomes real only when we begin to seek Him in return. Thus Isaac leads the soul away from both presumption and despair. He calls us to a hope that is sober, honest, and deeply human — a hope born not from passivity but from love. The one who labors for God, who sweats in His husbandry, who struggles to keep faith even in weakness, gradually discovers that confidence in God begins to take root within him. Hope then becomes something quiet and strong. Not a cry of desperation. But the steady trust of a heart that has learned, through labor and repentance, to live before God. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:10:07 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 182, #3, first paragraph 00:19:03 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 182, #3, first paragraph 00:40:42 Jessica McHale: When I am very tired, and I pray Vespers or Compline, I sometimes move through the psalms with inattention and just moving through because I am so tired. At those times, is it better to give 2 lines of attention to God or push through all the psalms? I love praying the Hours, but when I am so tired after a long day (for a variety of reasons), it can be a challenge to really be with the Lord when praying. 00:41:27 Wayne: Reacted to "When I am very tired..." with

“The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.” Psalm 13 A man stole two sheep and thought he could seal the theft with holy words. He walked toward the monastery with perjury already formed in his mouth. He believed that if he spoke boldly enough before the relics, heaven would remain silent. This is how sin matures. Not in ignorance, but in presumption. He did not merely lie. He invoked God as witness to his lie. We imagine that oaths make us strong. In truth they expose our pride. The man who swears lightly believes he commands reality. The fathers say it is better not to swear at all. Even truth becomes dangerous when uttered without trembling. Kyriakos feared losing two sheep more than losing his soul. And so the mercy of God came to him as blows. We recoil at the severity. But what is more severe. A body struck in the night or a conscience hardened forever. The vision stripped him of speech. That is the beginning of repentance. The tongue that dared to manipulate God fell silent before Him. And then we are told something equally sharp. Another man swore not to forgive. He placed hatred beneath the Cross and called it fidelity. How often do we do the same. We baptize resentment with pious language. We defend our implacability as righteousness. We call stubbornness integrity. The elder smiled because he saw the absurdity. To swear by Christ in order to disobey Christ is madness. Repentance broke the oath. Mercy broke pride. Reconciliation restored life. Then the mothers and fathers speak of something quieter but just as deadly. Calumny. We think murder requires blood. The desert says it begins with a whisper. To listen to slander is already to participate in it. The ear becomes the accomplice of the tongue. The heart is kneaded with yeast that does not belong to it. St Synkletike says some people feed on this. It is recreation. We leave prayer and feed on stories about others. We speak of faults not to heal but to taste superiority. When we do this, prayer rots. The face of our brother becomes distorted. We no longer see an icon. We see an accusation. The fathers tell us to become as one who hears not. This is harder than speaking. Silence requires humility. It requires the refusal to be entertained by another's fall. The man who guards his tongue guards his soul. The man who refuses to swear lightly refuses to command God. The man who will not receive a vain report protects Paradise at the gate of his ear. We want refined spirituality. The desert gives us something simpler. Fear God. Guard your mouth. Refuse the whisper. Break the oath of hatred. And if you have dared to lie before Him, fall silent quickly. Better a bruised pride than a hardened heart. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:01:44 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 360, Hypothesis 48, A 00:10:52 Anna Lalonde: Hey Fr Charbel! I signed up for Saturday and I haven't gotten any emails so don't have time or zoom link. 00:11:34 Anna Lalonde: Yes I checked junk mail 00:14:56 kristy: I found it the way it was thank you! 00:16:39 Joan Chakonas: I just search under philokalia ministeries and it pops up everytime 00:17:09 Anna Lalonde: robertandannalalonde@gmail.comh 00:17:38 Bob Čihák, AZ: P 360, Hypothesis 48, A 00:22:25 Anna Lalonde: The emails from "Fr. Charbel Abernethy" are going to my Gmail "Promotions" box not my "Inbox" so I miss them. The emails from "Father Charbel" for weekly meetings come in my inbox. 00:35:07 Anthony: Kriakos must have been very serious to be carried by an ass, clip-clop what I presume are rough roads in his condition. I was hoping for a different ending. 00:40:28 John ‘Jack': I was told years ago during  confession that “thoughts are not sins” that never set well with me, what are your thoughts on this ? 00:42:46 John ‘Jack': Reacted to "I was told years ago…" with

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As we come to the end of this hypothesis, the Fathers leave us with something painfully ordinary. They do not give us visions of heaven or heights of contemplation. They speak about the tongue. About when to speak. About when to remain silent. About lowering the eyes. About saying only what is necessary. It feels almost too simple. Yet they place it before us as a matter of life and death. They tell us that God is always watching. Not watching in suspicion, but watching as One who longs to dwell within us. And yet how quickly the door of the mouth is thrown open and everything inside spills out. Opinions. Explanations. Justifications. Pious thoughts. Clever remarks. Even good words spoken at the wrong time. We imagine that because something is true or orthodox or well intentioned it must be spoken. But the Fathers are ruthless here. They tell us that even good speech can disperse the soul. Saint Diadochus says that when the doors of the baths are left open, the heat escapes. So too with the soul. We labor for years to gather the mind, to kindle even a small flame of prayer, and then in a few careless conversations it dissipates. We leave a gathering inwardly empty. Not because we sinned gravely, but because we spoke much. The tragedy is not only that we lose recollection. It is that we begin to live outwardly. We become performers of thoughts. We interrupt. We insert ourselves. We fear being unnoticed. Saint Maximos unmasks this disease with precision. He says the one who interrupts reveals his love of glory. How often do we speak not from charity but from hunger. Hunger to be seen. To be affirmed. To be needed. Even in spiritual settings. Especially there. Isaiah the Anchorite brings it to the ground level. If you must speak, do so quietly. With humility. With reverence. As one ignorant. As one unworthy. Lower the face. Say little. Return quickly to silence. This is not theatrical piety. It is an interior stance. The tongue restrained becomes a sign that the passions are not ruling the heart. The Gerontikon cuts even deeper. Abba Joseph says he cannot control his tongue. The elder asks him one question. Do you find peace when you talk. No. Then why talk. There is something almost brutal in that simplicity. We speak and we lose peace. Yet we keep speaking. Abba Sisoes, a great ascetic, confesses that for thirty years he has prayed to be delivered from sins of the tongue and still he falls daily. This should sober us. If such a man trembles over his speech, what of us who speak constantly and without fear. And yet the Fathers do not romanticize silence. Abba Isaac exposes the counterfeit. There is a silence born of pride, of wanting the glory of being perceived as spiritual. A brooding silence that hides malice. A calculated silence that manipulates. This is not holiness. This is ego dressed in restraint. True silence either springs from zeal for virtue or from inward conversation with God. If it is not one of these, it will decay into self admiration. The stakes are high. If you guard your tongue, Isaac says, God will give you compunction. Compunction. The gift of seeing your own soul. The light of the mind. The joy of the Spirit. Silence becomes not emptiness but revelation. But if the tongue conquers you, you will never escape darkness. We are accustomed to thinking that sanctification comes through great works. Through ministries. Through projects. Through visible sacrifices. The Fathers insist that it may begin with something as small and humiliating as closing the mouth. Not as repression. Not as fear. But as reverence. To speak only when there is good reason. To speak because it is God's will and not because it soothes our anxiety. To listen more than we talk. To accept being unknown. To resist the need to untie every thought that wanders into the stable of the mind. This teaching must be internalized or it will remain quaint desert wisdom. It must confront us in the car after a conversation that left us agitated. It must confront us before we send the message, before we correct someone, before we offer unsolicited counsel, before we share a clever insight. It must question us. Is this necessary. Is this born of love. Will this preserve peace. Or am I simply opening the door and letting the heat escape. All things must be touched by grace. Speech can console, heal, illumine, and reconcile. Speech can also scatter, inflame, and darken. The same tongue that blesses can wound. The same mouth that proclaims Christ can betray Him. If we do not yet have a pure heart, the Fathers say, at least have a pure mouth. It is a beginning. A humiliating beginning. A door set firmly in place. And behind that door, if we are faithful, the slow birth of compunction. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:04:48 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 356 Section E 00:09:58 Catherine Opie: I have not attended for a couple of weeks. Where are we in the text now? 00:10:21 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/philokalia-ministries-lenten-retreat-2026 00:10:51 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 356, E 00:10:59 Catherine Opie: P356 Section E 00:12:54 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/philokalia-ministries-lenten-retreat-2026 00:13:03 John ‘Jack': Hello Father 00:13:28 Vanessa: I found the Saturday link in my junk email. I just happened to see it there. 00:13:40 Jessica McHale: Replying to "I found the Saturd..." me too 00:14:12 Rebecca Thérèse: I registered twice and only got one 00:14:40 Vanessa: If you use Gmail, sometimes it goes into the "Promotions" folder. 00:14:54 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/philokalia-ministries-lenten-retreat-2026 00:15:06 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 356, E 00:16:00 kristy: is there a way to watch the recording from saturday? 00:16:13 Beth Callaway: The Evergetinos Volumes 1 - 4: The Full Text By Nun Christina 00:16:23 Beth Callaway: Is this an appropriate text? 00:16:25 Angela Bellamy: It was mentioned there was trouble with the website and so I thought it could creat an error for the registration. 00:17:27 iPad (2)Janine: Beth..that is different translation….close but not same text. 00:23:00 Andrew Adams: Replying to "Is this an appropria..." This is the translation that we are using: https://ctosonline.org/product/the-evergetinos-a-complete-text/ 00:23:56 Myles Davidson: Arrived late. Where are we? 00:24:57 Julie: But in fairness some of the time was in the introduction so, 2 hours was great 00:25:04 maureencunningham: Wait till we get to heaven ! We will be talking  for eternity 00:25:11 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 356, E 00:25:16 Myles Davidson: Reacted to "P. 356, E" with

The fathers did not endure silence. They loved it. This is the difference between a man who is forcing himself to be quiet and a man who has discovered God. One clenches his teeth and calls it discipline. The other falls silent because he has found Someone worth listening to. Abba Or never lied, never cursed, never spoke unnecessarily. Not because he was following rules. Because he had seen the damage words do when they are born from ego. He had watched how speech leaks the life out of the soul. How it dissipates grace. How it feeds the illusion that we exist by asserting ourselves. Every unnecessary word strengthens the false self. Every unnecessary word delays repentance. Every unnecessary word postpones intimacy. The fathers were not minimalists. They were realists. They had learned that most of what we say does not come from truth but from anxiety. We speak to control. We speak to secure ourselves. We speak to make sure we exist in the minds of others. We are afraid to disappear. Silence terrifies the ego because silence exposes that we do not sustain ourselves. God does. ⸻ St Ephraim says that he who speaks much multiplies quarrels and hatred. This is not moralism. This is anatomy. Words inflame the passions. Words solidify judgment. Words give form to resentment that would otherwise dissolve in the presence of God. A garden without a fence is trampled. A soul without silence is plundered. Every idle conversation opens the gate to distraction. Every irrelevant word invites the demon of listlessness. Antiochos names this with terrifying clarity. Loquacity does not merely waste time. It hands the mind over to the enemy. Because God is not found in noise. God is found where nothing of the ego remains to obscure Him. This is why silence is not empty. Silence is full. It is full of Presence. It is full of Light. It is full of a Word that cannot be manufactured by human thought. St Isaac the Syrian says that silence is the mystery of the age to come. Words belong to this age. Silence belongs to eternity. Because in eternity, God is not explained. He is known. Not through concepts. Through union. ⸻ When the fathers entered silence, they did not enter absence. They entered encounter. They discovered that beneath the constant internal narration of the mind there was Another Voice. A Voice that did not shout. A Voice that did not argue. A Voice that did not flatter or condemn. A Voice equal to God Himself. Because it was God Himself. The Logos. The Word through whom all things were made. This Word does not force Himself upon us. He waits. He waits for the noise to stop. He waits for the ego to weaken. He waits for the endless commentary to exhaust itself. He waits for the man to become poor enough to listen. And when He speaks, He does not merely inform. He creates. His Word heals what sin has disfigured. His Word restores what pride has shattered. His Word brings into existence a new heart. This is why the fathers guarded silence with ferocity. They were protecting the place where God is born in the soul. ⸻ Antiochos says that those who possess the Holy Spirit do not speak when they wish but when moved by the Spirit. This is freedom. Not the freedom to speak. The freedom to remain silent. The ego must speak to survive. The Spirit does not. The ego is restless. The Spirit is still. The ego needs witnesses. The Spirit is its own witness. This is why the saints speak few words. Not because they have nothing to say. But because they see the cost of speech. They know that every word must pass through fire. They have seen the devastation caused by words spoken without God. They have seen how words born from self obscure the Word who gives life. So they wait. They remain in silence until speech itself becomes obedience. Until speech is no longer self-expression but revelation. ⸻ We resist this silence because it feels like death. And it is death. It is the death of the self that must assert, explain, defend, and secure itself. It is the death of the self that believes it exists by speaking. In silence, this self collapses. And something else begins to appear. Something quiet. Something uncreated. Something that does not depend on being seen or heard. Christ Himself begins to live where the false self once ruled. This is why silence is not endured. It is loved. Because in silence we discover that we were never sustained by our words. We were sustained by Him. And when every unnecessary word falls away, when every inner argument dissolves, when every effort to secure ourselves finally collapses, there remains only this: God speaking His Word in the depths of the heart. And this Word is life. And this Word is light. And this Word is love. And this Word is enough. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:03:08 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.philokaliaministries.org/post/philokalia-ministries-lenten-retreat-2026 00:03:37 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: https://www.youtube.com/@philokaliaministries/videos 00:04:06 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 355 number 11 00:10:00 Janine: Father…still sick..but here…thank you for prayers 00:12:40 Mary and Al: Albert 00:16:30 Andrew Adams: Will the Lenten retread be on the podcast feed? 00:47:12 Jessica McHale: Interesting---I discerned contemplative monastic life at two different monasteries. In both experiences, the nuns were too social for me. They spoke during two meals during the day, and most of the talk was politics. Since I was discerning, I imagine they wanted my opinion on political topics to see if I would "fit in" with the community. They let me know that socialization and speaaking was part of commnity life. It just wasn't for me. It is hard to find a "community" tha understands the importance of silence. For me, silence is essential. It's a prayerful existence centered on God. 00:47:37 Maureen Cunningham: If someone is quiet , the mind can be  in constant thought. How  do you combine the silence and. Empty out the mind 00:51:22 Erick Chastain: Clear creek monks didn't know who Trump was not too long ago (after he ran for president) 01:00:49 John ‘Jack': Silence ultimately brought me back to the Church.  About 15 years ago my wife asked what I wanted for a birthday gift? After listening to an elderly freind speak so lovingly of her time spent at the Abbey of the Genesee, I decided to ask for a  weekend retreat. She gave it to me, best gift ever. The first evening I thought I was  going to lose my mind. I've grown to love silence! 01:01:21 Jessica McHale: Reacted to "Silence ultimately..." with ❤️ 01:02:04 Carol Nypaver: Reacted to "Silence ultimately b..." with

St. Isaac does not flatter us. He does not tell us that the ascetic life is noble. He tells us it burns. He does not tell us it is peaceful. He tells us it wounds. He does not tell us it feels like fulfillment. He tells us it feels like loss. Because what stands at the heart of the ascetic life is not discipline. It is death. Not the death of the body, but the death of the self that has lived for itself. And until that self begins to die, the soul remains cold. The modern man wants illumination without humiliation. He wants consolation without affliction. He wants joy without tears. He wants Christ without crucifixion. But St. Isaac tells us plainly. The sign that the soul is drawing near to life is not comfort. It is fire. Your heart is aflame both day and night. This fire does not come from effort. It comes from surrender. It comes when a man has ceased defending himself. It comes when he has ceased preserving his image. It comes when he has ceased negotiating with God. He stands stripped of illusions. He sees his poverty. He sees his weakness. He sees that he has nothing. And this is where grace begins. Because God does not fill what is full. He fills what has been emptied. The Lord says through the prophet Isaiah I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble and to revive the heart of the contrite. The fathers knew this. Abba Poemen said The man who understands his sins is greater than the man who raises the dead. Because the one who raises the dead may still live for himself. But the one who sees his sins has begun to die. And it is this death that gives birth to tears. St. Isaac says that tears join themselves to every work. Not because the man is trying to weep. But because he can no longer protect himself from reality. He sees God. He sees himself. He sees the distance between them. And he weeps. These tears are not weakness. They are truth. They are the breaking of the heart that has lived in false strength. King David understood this when he said My sacrifice is a contrite spirit. A humbled and contrite heart you will not spurn. God does not desire your accomplishments. He desires your brokenness. Because brokenness is the door through which He enters. This is why St. Isaac says that afflictions suffered for the Lord are more precious than every offering. Because affliction destroys the illusion that you are alive apart from God. Affliction reveals the truth. That you are dust. That you are weak. That you cannot save yourself. And the ego cannot survive this revelation. This is why affliction is feared. Not because it harms us. But because it exposes us. The Apostle Paul understood this mystery when he said We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed. Perplexed, but not driven to despair. Struck down, but not destroyed. Always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. Affliction carries death into the false self. So that life may be born in the true self. And this is where the paradox appears. Because the man who embraces affliction does not become miserable. He becomes free. St. Isaac says that when this fire is born in the soul, the whole world becomes ashes. Not because the world is hated. But because it no longer enslaves him. He no longer needs it to feel alive. He no longer needs recognition. He no longer needs control. He no longer needs to preserve himself. Because he has found something greater. He has found Christ. And Christ becomes his life. St. Paul says I count all things as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. This is not poetry. This is the testimony of a man who has passed through affliction into freedom. Because when the false life dies, the true life appears. And this life cannot be taken. This is the joy that St. Isaac speaks of. Not emotional happiness. But the unshakable certainty that Christ has become your life. This joy is born in tears. It is born in humiliation. It is born in affliction. It is born when the man ceases running from the cross. Christ did not say Avoid suffering. He said Take up your cross and follow me. Because the cross is not the end. It is the door. On the other side of affliction stands resurrection. On the other side of humiliation stands freedom. On the other side of tears stands joy. This is why St. Isaac warns us. If the fire grows cold, woe to you. Because the greatest tragedy is not suffering. It is returning to sleep. It is returning to self protection. It is returning to the illusion that you can live apart from God. The ascetic life is not about becoming strong. It is about becoming defenseless before God. It is about allowing Him to strip away everything false. It is about allowing Him to destroy what cannot live. So that what is eternal may appear. And when this happens, the man no longer fears affliction. Because he has seen what it produces. He has seen the fire. He has tasted the tears. He has known the joy that cannot be taken. And he understands at last the words of Christ Your sorrow will turn into joy. Not because suffering disappears. But because Christ has become your life. And nothing can take Him away. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:00:58 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 177 paragraph 24 00:07:15 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 177 paragraph 24 00:07:36 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Ascetic life begins where excuses die When a man stops speaking about God and begins to suffer for Him Humility takes root so deeply that tear flow unceasingly Heart burns without knowing why When grace comes the battle grows more dangerous - soul tempted to become prudent. Where most turn back Ascetic life requires a kind of violence against instinct to survive 00:16:15 Jesssica Imanaka: Looks I can attend these retreats since they don't start until the 21st. 00:20:28 Angela Bellamy: The devil does not only tempt with sin — he tempts with carefulness. I remember that from the "Unseen warfare" 00:30:50 Sr Barbara Jean Mihalchick: Baptism of the Holy Spirit? 00:31:58 Ryan Ngeve: Father with his emphasis on tears, does that mean a lack of tears entails the lack of working of the Holy Spirit 00:32:00 Angela Bellamy: Does such a thing that has happened that the unemotional/tenderness tears come... Would "carefulness take it away before time" 00:36:24 Angela Bellamy: Reacted to "Does such a thing th..." with ❤️ 00:39:24 Angela Bellamy: But with certainty one can assume that they are the one who pulled away, not Him? So there can be a drawing near again...? 00:46:03 Holly Hecker: it would appear that consolations at these times could be sort of dangerous - do we want to go back or go forward 00:46:09 David Swiderski, WI: I have noticed when repentance seems distant my mind turns towards pride forgetting being freed from it is not by me but by grace of something. When I turn back to repentance I find myself like Abba moses walking around with a hole in a bag of sand and more open to others struggles 00:50:21 John ‘Jack': Since reading the fathers, I've come to realize that I am only responsible for my own salvation, it seems like our culture has convinced us that we are somehow responsible for others salvation. Since I've been focused on this I've found my “witness” if you will has become far less burdensome. 00:54:35 Joan Chakonas: My prayers are usually in context of afflictions (my judgmentalism, my ridicule, my thoughts in general from living my day )and asking for Gods help and guidance.  When I am at peace I am not actively petitioning God for abstract things - I am trying to repent all the time and peace is what I get when I get His message. 00:55:09 David Swiderski, WI: Sin is followed by shame, Repentance is followed by boldness- St. John Chrysotom 00:56:10 Joan Chakonas: I just say thank you God over and over when I get to peace. 00:56:26 John ‘Jack': Perfectly stated, Father thank you. 00:56:53 Myles Davidson: Reacted to "I just say thank you..." with ❤️ 01:01:18 Anthony: Preach Father! I saw the Faith in Southern Italy was so different in its tone than what I've seen as an American Catholic. 01:01:41 Myles Davidson: A word for sorrowful joy seems like a word we lack in English (bittersweet is probably the closest). Is this the Greek word you mean Father? χαρμολύπη (charmolýpi)… pronounced as khar-mo-LEE-pee 01:02:05 Ben: Anna; This conversation reminds me of something Jesus said, "This is my commandment that you love one another as I have loved you." 01:02:45 Angela Bellamy: Reacted to "Anna; This conversat..." with ❤️ 01:02:57 David Swiderski, WI: Reacted to "Anna; This conversat..." with ❤️ 01:05:51 Angela Bellamy: I'm not really sure why this conversation reminds me of Malachi.

We speak because we are afraid to be still. We speak because silence exposes us. We speak because when the mouth closes the heart begins to make noise and that noise is often unbearable. The Fathers knew this long before psychology gave it names. They knew that speech is not neutral. It is not just communication. It is an outflow of what is ruling the inner world. Every word carries the weight of the heart behind it. This is why Abba Pambo could stand at death and say that he had not repented of a single word and yet also say that he had not even begun to serve God. He knew what speech costs. He knew how easily a careless phrase can wound another, harden the self or invite the demons into the space between people. He did not trust his own clarity. He waited. He let months pass rather than speak a word that was not born from God. That kind of restraint feels almost inhuman to us. We live in a world that rewards immediacy. We are trained to answer quickly, react quickly, express quickly, post quickly, correct quickly. But speed is not truth. Speed is often panic wearing a clever face. The monk who waits to speak is not slow. He is standing before God inside himself. He is listening for something that is not his own. The Elder says that a man can be silent with his lips and loud with his heart. That is the most damning line in this whole section. You can say nothing and still be screaming. You can be quiet and still be condemning everyone around you. You can appear peaceful while your mind is devouring your brothers. Another man can speak all day and yet remain silent because he refuses to let his words become weapons, judgments or self display. Silence is not a style. It is a spiritual state. Idle talk is not mostly obscene or stupid. It is unnecessary. It is speech that does not serve salvation. It is talk that fills the space so we do not have to face what is happening inside. We speak about bodies and opinions and events and annoyances and plans because these are safer than the truth of our hearts. The moment we speak about what is good we discover how quickly evil slips in. Pride sneaks into holy words. Comparison sneaks into spiritual conversation. The self sneaks into everything. This is why the Elder answers the brother who wants a word to be saved with something that sounds almost trivial. Do not hasten to speak before you consider what you are going to say. That is not etiquette. That is warfare. To pause before speaking is to interrupt the automatic rule of the ego. It is to refuse to let the tongue be driven by irritation, hunger for recognition or the need to be right. It is to create a small space where God might enter. Most of what we say is not meant to help anyone. It is meant to regulate ourselves. We speak to soothe anxiety. We speak to discharge frustration. We speak to draw attention. We speak to feel real. We speak to avoid the ache of not being in control. The mouth becomes a narcotic. The more we use it the less we notice how enslaved we are to it. This is why the Fathers are so severe. They are not moralizing. They are diagnosing a sickness. The soul that cannot keep watch over its words cannot keep watch over its thoughts. The heart that pours itself out through constant speech cannot remain gathered before God. It leaks. It disperses. It becomes weak. The tragedy is that we confuse expression with honesty. We think that saying what we feel is the same as bringing it to God. It is not. Most of the time it just feeds the feeling. It strengthens the pattern. It builds a little kingdom around the self. We call it authenticity but it is often captivity. The monk learns slowly and painfully that every word either bends him toward God or bends him toward himself. There is no neutral speech. Either it deepens prayer or it corrodes it. Either it builds communion or it sows division. Either it creates space for grace or it fills the room with ego. This is why the saint waits. This is why the Elder warns. This is why the Fathers tremble before idle talk. They have seen what words do to the heart. They have watched souls unravel because the mouth was never taught to kneel. To learn silence is not to become mute. It is to become true. It is to let God have the first and last word inside you. And until that happens every sentence we speak is a small gamble with our soul. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:00:31 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 353 00:01:32 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Hypothesis XLVII page 353 concerning speech and silence 00:06:10 Catherine Opie: Without mosquitoes we would have no frogs or bats 00:11:38 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 353 A Hypothesis 47 00:12:10 Catherine Opie: Reacted to "P. 353 A Hypothesis ..." with

The Fathers do not treat speech as a social matter. They treat it as a matter of life and death. Because speech reveals what the heart lives from. A man may fast and remain proud. He may pray and remain full of illusion. He may withdraw outwardly and still remain inhabited by noise. But when he speaks, the truth emerges. The tongue betrays what the heart serves. Christ says with terrifying simplicity, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” Matthew 12:34 He does not say the mouth creates. He says the mouth reveals. Speech is the manifestation of inner condition. The Evergetinos preserves the fierce sobriety of the Fathers on this point because they knew that speech is not neutral. Speech either dissipates the heart or gathers it into God. Abba Arsenius fled from men not because he hated them but because he feared what his own mouth might do. He had been formed in the courts of emperors. He knew the seduction of words. He knew how easily speech strengthens the illusion of the self. He heard a voice saying, “Flee, be silent, pray always.” Not because silence is virtuous in itself, but because silence exposes the poverty of the heart. When a man falls silent, he encounters himself. He encounters the anxiety that drives speech. The need to affirm himself. The need to be seen. The need to exist in the minds of others. Speech often becomes the way the ego sustains its continuity. Each word reinforces the illusion that the self is real, stable, necessary. This is why idle speech is so dangerous. Not because the words themselves are always evil, but because they feed the false center. St. John Climacus writes that talkativeness is the throne of vainglory, the sign of ignorance, the doorway of slander, and the cooling of compunction. Every unnecessary word strengthens forgetfulness of God. Not dramatically. Quietly. Almost imperceptibly. The heart that was once gathered becomes scattered. The attention that was once turned inward toward repentance becomes turned outward toward managing impressions. A man begins by speaking carelessly. He ends by living carelessly. The Evergetinos recounts how the elders guarded their speech with ferocity. Not because they had nothing to say, but because they feared losing the presence of God. They understood that the more a man speaks, the more he lives outside himself. And the more he lives outside himself, the more he forgets God. Abba Poemen said, “If a man remembers that he must give an account of every idle word, he will choose silence.” Not because silence is safer socially. Because silence is safer spiritually. Christ Himself says, “For every idle word men speak, they will give account on the day of judgment.” Matthew 12:36 Every idle word. This is not exaggeration. It is revelation. Because every idle word strengthens a life lived apart from God. Speech gives substance to illusion. It allows the ego to feel real. To feel present. To feel established. This is why men fear silence. Silence removes reinforcement. Silence reveals instability. Silence reveals dependency. Silence reveals that without constant affirmation, the ego begins to tremble. The Fathers did not seek silence as technique. They sought silence as truth. In silence, a man begins to see that he does not yet exist in God. He exists in the reflection of himself in the minds of others. Speech sustains that reflection. Silence destroys it. This destruction feels like death. Because something is dying. The false self that lives from recognition. The Evergetinos shows us elders who would rather appear foolish than speak unnecessarily. Who would rather remain misunderstood than protect themselves with words. Because they had discovered something terrible and liberating. Words cannot save the soul. Only God can save the soul. And God is found not in noise, but in poverty. St. Isaac the Syrian writes that the man who has come to know himself guards his tongue as one standing before fire. Because he knows how easily the heart can be emptied of grace. Speech is not evil. But uncontrolled speech reveals an uncontrolled heart. The man who speaks constantly has not yet learned to stand before God. Because the man who stands before God begins to see himself truthfully. And seeing himself truthfully, he loses the need to speak. Not because he despises others. Because he no longer needs to sustain himself. His life begins to be hidden with Christ in God. And the tongue, once restless and hungry, becomes quiet. Not forced into silence. But stilled by the presence of God. This is the path the Fathers walked. They did not seek eloquence. They sought reality. And reality begins when the mouth stops protecting the self and the heart begins to stand naked before God. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:02:32 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 354 para 4 00:03:51 Angela Bellamy: I apologize for my mic. I didn't realize it had activated. 00:04:01 Angela Bellamy: Reacted to "I apologize for my m..." with

St. Isaac the Syrian is ruthless here because he is protecting us from despair on one side and fantasy on the other. Most of us live precisely in the state he describes. We have repented. We have turned away from obvious sins. We pray. We read. We fast. And yet our prayer feels crowded. Memories intrude. Images multiply. The heart is pulled back into itself again and again. This is not a sign that repentance was false. It is the normal condition of an unfledged mind. Isaac is teaching us not to panic when the mind cannot yet fly. At this stage virtues are still heavy. They belong to effort. They restrain the mind but they do not yet lift it. We imagine that distraction means failure and that freedom should come quickly. Isaac says no. Freedom has an atmosphere. The mind must slowly learn the air in which it will one day remain. Until then it hops. And hopping is not sin. It is training. The mistake is trying to force flight. When we strain to escape images we only multiply them. When we analyze distraction we deepen self consciousness. When we demand interior stillness before humility has done its work we turn prayer into a project. Isaac quietly refuses all of this. He tells us to remain faithful to outward obedience without expecting inward vision yet. What overcomes these tendencies is not technique but endurance in smallness. We continue to pray even when prayer feels poor. We do not chase experiences. We accept that God is served through visible things for a long time. And we allow the Lord to teach us the inner meaning of what we already practice. Slowly virtues become transparent. They stop drawing attention to themselves. They begin to point beyond themselves. Humility is the hinge. Not self accusation. Not interior commentary. Humility is staying low enough that God can lean toward us. The humble man does not try to send his prayer upward. He speaks it close. Like a word placed directly into the ear of God. Lord You will enlighten my darkness. This is what readers of Philokalia Ministries need to hold on to. If your prayer feels earthbound do not abandon it. If your mind is crowded do not fight it violently. If your virtues feel external do not despise them. You are not failing. You are growing feathers. Flight comes later. First comes patience. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:06:24 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 176, # 21, second paragraph 00:13:26 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 176, # 21, second paragraph 00:15:11 Angela Bellamy: congratulations Father

St. Isaac the Syrian is not offering speculation about the afterlife. He is unveiling the inner logic of existence itself, now and forever. He begins, characteristically, not with heaven, but with humility—because for him humility is not a moral ornament but the measure of reality. You do not know humility, he says, by what you think of yourself when you are alone. You know it only when your self-image is wounded. If accusation disturbs you, if injustice burns you inwardly, then humility has not yet reached the marrow. This is not condemnation but diagnosis. Humility, for Isaac, is not self-accusation performed in safety; it is the quiet endurance of being diminished without revolt. Only such a heart can bear God. From this point, Isaac lifts the veil on Christ's words about the “many mansions” of the Father's house. He dismantles our spatial and competitive imagination. Heaven is not a collection of separate dwellings, not a hierarchy of visible comparisons. There is one dwelling, one place, one vision, one light. God is not divided. Beatitude is not parceled out. The diversity lies not in God's gift but in our capacity to receive it. Isaac reaches for images of profound simplicity. The sun shines equally upon all, yet each person receives its light according to the health of his eyes. A single lamp illumines an entire house, yet its light is experienced differently depending on where one stands. The source is undivided. The radiance is simple. What differs is the vessel. Heaven, then, is not the multiplication of rewards but the full revelation of what the soul has become capable of receiving. This is where Isaac's teaching becomes both consoling and terrifying. Consoling, because there is no envy in the Kingdom. No one with a lesser measure will see the greater measure of another. There will be no sorrow born of comparison, no awareness of loss, no inner accusation that another has been given more. Each soul will delight fully in what it has been made able to contain. God will not be experienced as deprivation by anyone who is in Him. But it is terrifying because Isaac makes clear that this capacity is not arbitrary. It is formed. It is disciplined. It is shaped through humility, suffering, obedience, and purification of the heart. The same divine light that gives joy to one will reveal limitation to another. The difference is not external but interior. Heaven does not change us at the threshold; it unveils us. Isaac goes further. He insists that the world to come will not operate by a different logic than this one. The structure of reality is already set. Knowledge beyond sense, perception beyond images, understanding beyond words—these already exist in seed form. Ignorance remains for a time, but it is not eternal. There is an appointed moment when ignorance is abolished and the mysteries that are now guarded by silence are revealed. Silence, here, is not absence but reverence. God is not fully disclosed to the undisciplined mind. Finally, Isaac draws a stark boundary. There is no middle realm. A person belongs either wholly to the realm above or wholly to the realm below. Yet even within each realm, there are degrees. This is not contradiction but coherence. Union or separation is absolute; experience within each state is varied. One is either turned toward God or away from Him, but the depth of that turning—or that refusal—determines the quality of one's existence. What Isaac is pressing upon us is this: life is the slow formation of our capacity for God. Salvation is not merely forgiveness; it is vision. Judgment is not an external sentence; it is the unveiling of what the soul can bear. Humility is not preparation for heaven—it is already participation in its light. And the tragedy of sin is not punishment imposed from without, but the shrinking of the heart's ability to receive the One who gives Himself entirely. In St. Isaac's vision, God remains eternally simple, undivided, and radiant. The question that decides everything is not how much God gives, but how much we have allowed ourselves to be healed, emptied, and enlarged to receive Him. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:04:59 susan: Hi I'm trying to transition from liturgy or hours on the phone to the 4 volume books.  Can anone tell me what week we are currently in?  tx 00:05:20 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Humility Real? - how heart reacts when another wounds us Is our understanding of the Kingdom and its light childish or rooted in mature faith Do we desire the kingdom or look for an in-between state Do we teach others before we are healed? Enemy is subtle - vainglorious to focus on sin or temptation. Should focus on virtue. Resolve and labor tied together Virtue must be practiced otherwise we are like a fledgling without feathers Humility, fervor, tears can be lost through negligence Affliction should ultimately give way to hope. Should not seek ways to avoid the cross Begin with courage.  Don't divide the soul but trust God absolutely 00:17:12 David Swiderski, WI: https://www.usccb.org/resources/2026cal.pdf 00:18:49 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 172, # 11, first paragraph 00:40:28 Ben: Anna; It seems to me that since Charity isn't something that we lose in heaven, that the glory of each soul will somehow communicate it's self to each other soul in such a way that we will each delight in the glory of the other. 00:41:40 Elizabeth Richards: It is so hard to invest and trust fully when our experience human relationships always disappoint (for me). It was easier when I was younger! 00:42:40 Elizabeth Richards: It I can be hard not to be protective in my relationship with God 00:44:05 Elizabeth Richards: The paradox is that I need Christ's strength & grace to have a vulnerable relationship with Him! 00:47:26 David Swiderski, WI: Youth is a struggle of acquiring- knowledge, career, house, family and growing older sometimes is a struggle of learning to let go until there is nothing of us to cling to but God.. (A saying from my Grandfather)  He also said more concisely we come into this world and leave the same way no teeth, bald and in diapers. 00:50:26 Nypaver Clan: Father, Do you have a good, detailed examination of conscience from the Desert Fathers? 00:50:33 Sr Barbara Jean Mihalchick: Replying to "Youth is a struggle ..." Do any of the Saints approach the circuitous routes of  the spiritual life and vocation with a holy sense of humor??? 00:50:58 Maureen Cunningham: Sometimes it feels like That God is treating me the same as my adversary s 01:01:20 Angela Bellamy: Is the joy simultaneous with the sorrow entangled forever? or will the joy win? 01:01:59 Art: Going back to paragraph 12 where Isaac speaks of “each according to the clarity of his eyesight” this reminds me of something from the margin of the Roman missal.  It says, “They will receive grace [at Mass] in the measure of their faith and devotion, visible to God alone.”  So it's as if at mass we are already experiencing this part of heaven.  There we are all in the same place, one abode, one place, one dwelling, yet each seeing “each according to the clarity of his eyesight” and absent any feelings of envy toward any other. 01:04:43 David Swiderski, WI: https://saintnicholas-oca.org/files/catechetical-resources/Self-Examination-before-Confession-From-Way-of-a-Pilgrim.pdf 01:19:47 Nypaver Clan: Father, you're awesome!

These texts from the Evergetinos unsettle us because they refuse to remain within the boundaries of what feels morally tidy or intellectually manageable. They do not ask us to refine our ethical reasoning. They ask us to relinquish it. Not because truth no longer matters, but because truth in Christ is no longer possessed or deployed by us. It is entered. It is suffered. It is entrusted to God. Abba Alonios' answer shocks precisely because it violates our instinct for clean distinctions. We want truth to be a weapon that guarantees justice. We want moral clarity to protect us from risk. Yet the elder places before us a situation in which telling the truth would mean cooperating with death. The choice is not between honesty and deceit as abstract values. It is between acting as judge and surrendering judgment to God. The lie he permits is not born of calculation or convenience but of restraint. It is a refusal to become the final arbiter over another human life. Here the Gospel quietly overturns us. Christ does not save the world by insisting on correct procedure. He saves it by entering into its injustice and absorbing it without retaliation. He does not clarify situations from a distance. He descends into them and bears their weight. The elder's answer does not sanctify falsehood. It exposes our illusion that we are capable of wielding truth without wounding when our hearts are still governed by fear and reactivity. The second account presses even deeper. The Reader does not merely endure slander. He consents to it. He allows truth to be buried in order to spare the Church further scandal and to place his own vindication entirely in the hands of God. This is not passivity. It is not weakness. It is a terrifying freedom. He relinquishes reputation. He relinquishes status. He relinquishes even the right to be understood. He chooses to stand before God alone. Here moral reasoning collapses. By every rational measure the Reader should defend himself. Justice demands it. Yet the Gospel reveals a different justice. One that does not rush to expose wrongdoing but waits for God to uncover what human judgment cannot heal. The Reader's silence becomes prayer. His loss becomes intercession. His false condemnation becomes the means by which God exposes the deeper sickness of slander and restores the one who sinned. What these texts reveal is that the Christian life cannot be lived from the center of our own discernment alone. The Gospel draws us past the point where we ask what is fair or reasonable and into the mystery of Christ who was condemned while innocent and silent before His accusers. These stories are not moral templates to be imitated mechanically. They are icons. They show us what love looks like when it no longer seeks to justify itself. The Fathers knew how quickly our sense of virtue becomes self protection. How easily truth becomes an extension of our fear. The Gospel dismantles this illusion. It exposes how much of our judgment is driven by the need to control outcomes and secure our innocence. Christ does not ask us to abandon truth. He asks us to abandon ownership of it. To enter this mystery is to accept that fidelity to Christ will sometimes look like loss. That obedience may cost us clarity. That love may require us to stand undefended. Not because injustice is holy but because God alone is capable of judging without destroying. These writings do not give us answers we can apply. They draw us into a posture we must inhabit. One where restraint replaces reaction. Where prayer replaces accusation. Where truth is no longer something we speak over others but a life we entrust to God. The Gospel does not refine our moral instincts. It crucifies them and raises something altogether new. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:00:41 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 343 G paragraph 2 00:06:59 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 343 G paragraph 2 00:07:17 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Philokaliaministries.org/blog 00:08:34 Angela Bellamy: Reacted to "Philokaliaministries..." with ❤️ 00:08:46 Una's iPhone: Laughter is the best medicine? 00:10:05 Una's iPhone: I'm reading St Nicodemos Handbook of Spiritual Counsel 00:10:25 Una's iPhone: Yes 00:10:38 Una's iPhone: Guarding the senses 00:10:49 Anna: What's the book we're reading? 00:11:02 Anna: Thanks! 00:15:01 Angela Bellamy: Good evening Father. I've been looking forward to the class. Its lovely to see you doing well. :) 00:34:40 John ‘Jack': In John 7; 1-10 where the disciples try to talk Jesus into going in to the feast of the tabernacles he tells them his time has not yet come, he then goes in without them in disguise, thus has always seemed to be he lied, or at least misled them, id love to hear your interpretation on that scripture. 00:41:09 John ‘Jack': They are very good at showing us our own minuteness 00:43:04 Angela Bellamy: Excuse my interjection but Jesus explained that He couldn't go openly because He was being sought after to be murdered. That the people did not accept Him and that it wasn't time for His crucifixion. 00:44:45 John Burmeister: if i saw the murder, im not judgeing the person, im judging the act, 00:45:26 Julie: The importance of praying for discernment 00:45:42 John Burmeister: god will still have his judgement. it maybe gods providence for me to turn him in 00:54:41 Anthony: I don't think I would just take the judgement. I'd suppose having a good reputation is important for not just me, but my family and people who assume I did the grave evil.  For example how many true and false accusations against Catholic priests and others in USA was an excuse for people to leave faith in anger and grief? 00:54:44 Anna: Wow suffering is so powerful 00:55:37 John Burmeister: Replying to "I don't think I woul..." or for money 00:57:32 jonathan: Isaiah 53:7 – “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb led to the slaughter, and like a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.” Mark 15:3–5 – When accused before Pilate, “The chief priests accused him of many things… But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed.” 00:57:51 Angela Bellamy: Reacted to "Isaiah 53:7 – “He wa..." with ❤️ 01:01:54 Anthony: George Pell 01:03:27 Joan Chakonas: A example showing where you turn the other cheek to slander, and God takes care of you ultimately. 01:03:34 Joan Chakonas: Reacted to "Isaiah 53:7 – “He wa…" with ❤️ 01:06:55 Rebecca Thérèse: Unfortunately, abusers often manipulate themselves into important positions and a network develops where they look out for each other. Then when an allegation arises against an innocent person they go after them to make it look like they're cracking down on abuse and corruption where really they're just deflecting scrutiny away from themselves. The allegations against Cardinal Pell were easy to disprove but the authorities weren't interested in the truth. 01:08:44 Angela Bellamy: Joseph was slandered and yet the Lord held him dear. Humility invites God into our situation. He is sovereign over all. 01:10:20 Forrest: The bishop in this story continued his evil ways stating that the prayers of the reader must be to afflict the woman. Would the reader have been praying that way? 01:17:44 Janine: Praying for you Father! 01:18:37 Rebecca Thérèse: Thank you☺️ 01:19:43 Bob Čihák, AZ: Bless your excitement and overexpressing the Truth, Father, You're not alone!

The commercial real estate sector is now better positioned than at any time in recent years, according to John Jack, CEO of Galetti Corporate Real Estate. Views and News with Clarence Ford is the mid-morning show on CapeTalk. This 3-hour long programme shares and reflects a broad array of perspectives. It is inspirational, passionate and positive. Host Clarence Ford’s gentle curiosity and dapper demeanour leave listeners feeling motivated and empowered. Known for his love of jazz and golf, Clarrie covers a range of themes including relationships, heritage and philosophy. Popular segments include Barbs’ Wire at 9:30am (Mon-Thurs) and The Naked Scientist at 9:30 on Fridays. Thank you for listening to a podcast from Views & News with Clarence Ford Listen live on Primedia+ weekdays between 09:00 and 12:00 (SA Time) to Views and News with Clarence Ford broadcast on CapeTalk https://buff.ly/NnFM3Nk For more from the show go to https://buff.ly/erjiQj2 or find all the catch-up podcasts here https://buff.ly/BdpaXRn Subscribe to the CapeTalk Daily and Weekly Newsletters https://buff.ly/sbvVZD5 Follow us on social media: CapeTalk on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@capetalk CapeTalk on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ CapeTalk on X: https://x.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CapeTalk567See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The Fathers do not flatter us here. They speak with a severity that at first wounds, then heals, if we allow it. They do not treat resentment as a minor flaw of temperament or a passing emotional reaction. They name it for what it is: a poison that slowly erodes the soul's capacity to remember God. Abba Makarios goes straight to the heart of the matter. To remember wrongs is not simply to remember events. It is to allow those events to take up residence within us, to become a lens through which everything is filtered. The tragedy is not primarily that we remain hurt. It is that the remembrance of God grows faint. The mind cannot hold both rancor and divine remembrance at the same time. One displaces the other. When resentment is cherished, prayer becomes difficult, then hollow, then distorted. The heart turns inward and begins to feed on its own injuries. The Fathers are unsparing here because they know how subtle rancor is. Other sins shock us into repentance. A lie, a fall, a moment of weakness often leaves the soul groaning almost immediately. But rancor settles in quietly. It eats and sleeps with us. It walks beside us like a companion we no longer question. Abba Isaiah and the Elder of the Cells both know this danger. Resentment does not merely coexist with spiritual life; it corrodes it from within, like rust consuming iron. The soul grows hard while imagining itself justified. And yet, alongside this severity, there is a startling tenderness. The Fathers do not say that healing comes through argument, vindication, or emotional catharsis. They prescribe something far more humbling and far more powerful: prayer for the one who has wounded us. Not a feeling of goodwill, not an internal resolution, but the concrete act of standing before God and interceding. Again and again the teaching is the same. Pray for him. Pray for her. Force yourself if you must. Obey even when the heart resists. The story of the brother who obeyed the Elder and prayed is quietly miraculous. Nothing dramatic happens. There is no confrontation, no apology demanded, no psychological analysis. Within a week, the anger is gone. Not suppressed. Extinguished. Grace works where the will yields, even reluctantly. The healing is not self-generated. It is given. The account of the two brothers under persecution reveals just how serious this is. One accepts reconciliation and is strengthened beyond his natural limits. The other clings to ill will and collapses under the same torments. The difference is not courage or endurance. It is love. Grace remains where love remains. When rancor is chosen, protection is withdrawn, not as punishment, but because the soul has closed itself to the very atmosphere in which grace operates. St. Maximos names the interior mechanism with precision. Distress clings to the memory of the one who harmed us. The image of the person becomes fused with pain. Prayer loosens that bond. When we pray, distress is separated from memory. Slowly, the person is no longer experienced as an enemy but as a suffering human being in need of mercy. Compassion does not excuse the wrong. It dissolves its power. What is perhaps most astonishing is the Fathers' confidence that kindness can heal not only the one who was wounded, but the one who wounds. Be kind to the person who harbors resentment against you, St. Maximos says, and you may deliver him from his passion. This is not naïveté. It is spiritual realism. Demons feed on mutual hostility. They lose their dwelling place when humility and gentleness appear. Foxes flee when the ground is no longer hospitable. St. Ephraim's image is unforgettable. Rancor drives knowledge from the heart the way smoke drives away bees. The heart was made to gather sweetness. When bitterness fills the air, nothing can remain. Tears, prayer, and the offering of oneself like incense clear the space again. This teaching is beautiful because it is honest. It does not minimize the pain of insult or harm. It is challenging because it leaves us without excuses. We cannot claim prayer while nursing grudges. We cannot claim suffering for Christ while secretly rejoicing at another's downfall. The path offered is narrow and costly, but it is also liberating. Resentment chains us to the past. Kindness loosens the chain. Prayer opens the hand. Grace does the rest. --- Text from chat during the group: 00:04:55 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 332 Section B Hypothesis XLII Volume II 00:11:28 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 332 Section B Hypothesis XLII Volume II 00:11:41 Janine: Yes, thank you Uncle Father! 00:11:57 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Reacted to "Yes, thank you Uncle..." with

St Isaac begins Homily Six like one who will not let us hide from ourselves. He does not admire our efforts nor comfort our vanity. He forces us to look directly at what we are and at what we truly desire. A man who slips into accidental sins, he says, is not wicked but weak. And God allows this weakness to appear so that the conscience is pierced and the truth becomes unavoidable. God does not let the soul rise above these falls before its second birth because He wants us awake rather than respectable. Our failures become a kind of mercy. They expose the illusion that we are strong or self sufficient or spiritually advanced. They ask one question above all others. Do you desire God at all It is a raw question. A frightening question. Yet every stumble presses it deeper into the heart. If we fall and tremble the heart is alive. If we fall and justify ourselves the heart is asleep. Isaac calls that shameless. He says that without fervent faith or fear or chastisement the soul will never truly draw near to the love of God. These are not punishments but the three torches that light the way toward Him. If I resist them I do not want God himself. I want an idol shaped like comfort or control or admiration. Then Isaac turns to the roots beneath the roots. Turbulent thoughts come from gluttony. Ignorance and superficiality come from constant talk. Worry over worldly matters scatters the soul like chaff tossed into the wind. These are not merely moral observations. They are spiritual symptoms. They show us the condition of the heart. I can fast until my stomach twists and keep vigil until my knees ache yet if my thoughts are full of resentment or anxious grasping or the need to preserve my image then all my labors remain barren. The body strains while the passions settle deeper into the mind. Nothing changes because nothing inside has surrendered. Isaac gives an image that cuts to the bone. The man who clings to anxiety or covetousness or the memory of wrongs is like one who sows seed into thorns. He works. He sweats. He prays. He begs God to respond. Yet when he lies on his bed he groans because he cannot reap a harvest. The soil itself has been sabotaged by his thoughts. He fasts and wonders why God does not see. He humbles himself outwardly yet inwardly still clings to his own desires. God answers through the prophet. In the very day of your fasts you do your own wills. You sacrifice your free will to your own idols when you should be offering it to Me. It is one of the most devastating revelations in Scripture. The greatest offering we possess is the free will. And we lay it not on the altar of God but before our own desires. Here Isaac is not simply giving ascetical instruction. He is tearing open the heart to expose its truth. He is asking us to face the one question we spend our lives avoiding. Do you really want God or do you only want the appearance of holiness. Do you want the Kingdom or do you want the feeling of being spiritual. Do you want the fire of God or do you want to protect your own self created identity. Until we answer this honestly all asceticism remains external and fruitless. The early lines of Homily Six are not gentle. They are surgical. They strip away excuses and self deception. They show us that the spiritual life is not perfected by effort alone but by the purification of desire. Not by striving but by surrender. Not by vigils and fasts but by a heart emptied of its own will. I will never know God until I want Him more than I want myself. And my accidental sins are the strange mercy that reveals how much I still cling to myself. Isaac begins with our weakness so that we might finally seek the One who heals. He begins with our falls so that true longing may rise. He reveals our poverty so that desire for God might no longer be a sentence we say but a cry that burns within us. --- Text of chat during the group: 00:05:35 Fr. Charbel Abernethy: Page 169 Homily 6 00:05:49 Janine: Father can you say the name of that book again? 00:06:58 Janine: Thank you..it sounds very good 00:10:39 Janine: I just bought it on Thrift books 00:11:57 Bob Čihák, AZ: P. 169, # 1 00:13:55 Una's iPhone: Review on Amazon: Great Byzantine mystic https://a.co/d/2pt0HfE 00:15:28 Una's iPhone: Sorry, wrong link 00:15:58 Una's iPhone: Can't find your comment. It's on the book. Here's the book 00:16:03 Una's iPhone: https://a.co/d/clx1Saz 00:16:13 Una's iPhone: Sorry! 00:16:49 Ben: They got scared and scrubbed it! 00:17:23 Vanessa Nunez: Reacted to "They got scared and …" with

 Visit catholicpamphlets.com.au for a constantly increasing list of Traditional Catholic Truth Society pamphlets in PDF or Audiobooklet formats. 

Jane Dutton chats to John Jack, CEO of Galetti Corporate Real Estate, about South Africa's commercial property sector rebound, driven by factors like lower vacancies and improved energy supply. The Money Show is a podcast hosted by well-known journalist and radio presenter, Stephen Grootes. He explores the latest economic trends, business developments, investment opportunities, and personal finance strategies. Each episode features engaging conversations with top newsmakers, industry experts, financial advisors, entrepreneurs, and politicians, offering you thought-provoking insights to navigate the ever-changing financial landscape.Thank you for listening to The Money Show podcast.Listen live - The Money Show with Stephen Grootes is broadcast weekdays between 18:00 and 20:00 (SA Time) on 702 and CapeTalk.There’s more from the show at www.themoneyshow.co.zaSubscribe to the Money Show daily and weekly newslettersThe Money Show is brought to you by Absa.Follow us on:702 on Facebook: www.facebook.com/TalkRadio702702 on TikTok: www.tiktok.com/@talkradio702702 on Instagram: www.instagram.com/talkradio702702 on X: www.x.com/Radio702702 on YouTube: www.youtube.com/@radio702CapeTalk on Facebook: www.facebook.com/CapeTalkCapeTalk on TikTok: www.tiktok.com/@capetalkCapeTalk on Instagram: www.instagram.com/capetalkzaCapeTalk on YouTube: www.youtube.com/@CapeTalk567CapeTalk on X: www.x.com/CapeTalk See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Viv Govender of Rand Swiss unpacks Trump's criticism of Fed Chair Powell – what's behind it? Fatgie Adams from TransUnion Africa highlights why credit reports matter as more South Africans start paying attention. John Jack, CEO of Galetti Corporate Real Estate, weighs in on whether the property market is back to pre-pandemic levels – and if it's a safe haven.

Today is Wednesday, April 2, 2025, Rad and Hop talk with Brainerd activities director Jack Freeman about how the winter sports season went and previews the spring season for the Warriors.  Featuring Conrad Engstrom and Wade Haapajoki, Dispatch Sports Wrap with Rad and Hop is a product of Forum Communications Co. and is brought to you by TeeHive, Caliber Collision, Rafferty's Pizza, Shannon's Auto Body and the sports department at the Brainerd Dispatch. Find more sports coverage throughout the day at BrainerdDispatch.com.

In this episode, we sit down with John ‘Jack' Kiley, CPA and managing partner of MidAtlantic IRA, LLC, to explore the power of self-directed IRAs in building wealth. With over 30 years of experience in public accounting, Jack shares his expertise in tax strategies, retirement planning, and financial growth for high-net-worth individuals and closely held businesses.    Tune in to learn how Jack combines his roles as a CPA, entrepreneur, and real estate investor to help clients unlock new opportunities through self-directed retirement strategies!   Key Talking Points of the Episode   00:00 Introduction 01:20 How Jack got into real estate investing 02:51 The benefits of Jack's financial background in real estate 04:02 Real estate strategies that worked for Jack 05:16 How new investors can succeed in real estate 07:01 What makes Jack Kiley successful? 08:59 The story behind Midatlantic IRA 10:22 What it's been like to build the Midatlantic IRA team 12:00 What self-direction is really about 13:14 How Midatlantic IRA is providing education to individuals 14:32 What people in strategy groups learn from Jack and his team 16:02 Why it's important to understand how self-direction works 17:11 What makes Jack an expert in self-directed IRAs 19:33 The most pivotal moments in Jack's career 21:02 How networking has helped Jack in growing Midatlantic IRA 23:14 How mentorship has impacted Jack's success 25:26 What the future looks like for Midatlantic IRA 26:53 What Jack is passionate about outside of real estate 28:25 How to get in touch with Jack and his team   Quotables   “I view myself as a generalist. I might not have the answer to something, but I probably know someone that does – connecting those dots is helpful.”   “You have to be self-sufficient. You have to build streams of cash flow. You have to be able to provide for yourself or not just earn a living, you have to have something else.”   “We help each other and I think that's fairly common, quite frankly, in real estate.”   Links   Midatlantic IRA https://www.midatlanticira.com helloadmin@midatlanticira.com   RCN Capital https://www.rcncapital.com/podcast  https://www.instagram.com/rcn_capital/ info@rcncapital.com   REI INK https://rei-ink.com/   

This week, Jonathan is joined by John ‘Jack' Cush, Director of Clinical Rheumatology at the Baylor Research Institute, Dallas, Texas, USA. The two doctors explore novel treatment avenues for rheumatic diseases, and discuss the exciting potential of AI and telemedicine.  Please use the following timestamps to navigate this episode:  (00:00)-Introduction   (02:29)-The history of beer and rock' n roll (06:10)-Transitioning into digital medical education (10:21)-Jack's podcast: RheumNow (14:30)-Challenges in lupus diagnosis and management (16:58)-IL-5 inhibitors: novel drugs for allergic vasculitis   (19:22)-How does diet affect inflammation and bone health? (24:22)-Telemedicine in rheumatology (29:26)-Lessons in rheumatoid arthritis care (33:30)-Soaring costs in healthcare (36:40)-New horizons in rheumatoid arthritis treatment (41:37)-The future of AI (43:30)-Jack's three wishes for rheumatology

It's a packed Thursday and we welcome Fancy Bryan Kelly to the show and we're kicking things off with a guy who made a hard right turn from the world of music videos to crushing DEI in corporate America. How did someone garner so much power and did the companies even want these programs? Then Greg talks to Bryan about his membership in SAG/AFTRA and how whether it's Hollywood or Wisconsin, a strong union helps all involved. As always, thank you for listening, texting and calling, we couldn't do this without you! Don't forget to download the free Civic Media app and take us wherever you are in the world! Matenaer On Air is a part of the Civic Media radio network and airs Monday through Friday from 10 am - noon across the state. Subscribe to the podcast to be sure not to miss out on a single episode! You can also rate us on your podcast distribution center of choice, they go a long way! To learn more about the show and all of the programming across the Civic Media network, head over to https://civicmedia.us/shows to see the entire broadcast line up. Follow the show on Facebook, X and YouTube to keep up with Jane and the show! Guest: Bryan Kelly

In honor of Memorial Day, Mike Hazard, the program manager for the United Association Veterans in Piping program, joined the America's Work Force Union Podcast to talk about the program and what it is doing to help military service members transition to civilian careers in the UA. Hazard also discussed the UA Pipe P.A.L.S. program recently launched by the union. United States Army veteran John “Jack” Monahan, who also serves as a World War One Centennial Commission representative, joined the America's Work Force Union Podcast this Memorial Day to discuss the WWI Memorial in Washington, D.C. He also discussed the unveiling of a new sculpture at the memorial slated for this fall.

In this episode, CPT Brandon Pugh sits down with Lt Gen (Ret.) John “Jack” Shanahan an expert in the artificial intelligence (AI) field to discuss AI. In his final assignment he served as the inaugural Director of the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) Joint Artificial Center (JAIC). During this episode, Lt Gen (Ret.) Shanahan discusses how he became the DoD's lead on AI, standing up Project Maven as the director, the process of introducing AI into the DoD, and AI ethics in the DoD including DoD Directive 3000.09 Autonomy in Weapon Systems. The episode ends with Lt Gen (Ret.) Shanahan discussing the future of AI and potential legislation that may be proposed. NSL Practitioner's interested in reviewing resources and scholarship produced by ADN should check out the Operational Law Handbook and LOAC Documentary Supplement and other significant military legal resources available at The Judge Advocate General's Legal Center and School website under publications. Connect with The Judge Advocate General's Legal Center and School by visiting our website at https://tjaglcs.army.mil/ or on Facebook (tjaglcs), Instagram (tjaglcs), or LinkedIn (school/tjaglcs).

Book Vs. Movie: TommyThe 1969 Rock Opera Vs. The 1975 Movie“Musicals in March”"The Who's Tommy" is a rock opera written by Pete Townshend and performed by the English rock band The Who. It was first released as a double album in 1969 and later adapted into various stage productions, including a highly successful Broadway musical. The story revolves around a young boy named Tommy Walker who becomes deaf, dumb, and blind after witnessing a traumatic event. Despite his sensory impairments, Tommy discovers an extraordinary talent for playing pinball and becomes a messianic figure for his followers. The rock opera has been adapted into various forms over the years, including a 1975 film directed by Ken Russell and a Broadway musical that premiered in 1992. Which did we (the Margos) prefer, the original album or the 1975 movie adaptation?In this ep, the Margos discuss:The Who and their place in rock historyRobert Stigwood & Ken RussellThe.The cast of the 1975 film includes Roger Daltrey (Tommy,) Ann-Margret (Nora,) Oliver Reed (Frank,) Elton John (Pinball Wizard,) John Entwistle (bass player,) Keith Moon (drummer and Uncle Ernie,) Paul Nicholas (Cousin Kevin,) Jack Nicholson (The Specialist,) Pete Townshend (guitarist,) and Tina Turner as the Acid Queen.Clips used:The Acid QueenTommy (original 1975 movie trailer)ChampagneSmash the MirrorThe Pinball WizardThere's a DoctorWe're Not Gonna Take ItMusic by Pete Townshend.Book Vs. Movie is part of the Frolic Podcast Network. Find more podcasts you will love Frolic.Media/podcasts. Join our Patreon page “Book Vs. Movie podcast”You can find us on Facebook at Book Vs. Movie Podcast GroupFollow us on Twitter @bookversusmovieInstagram: Book Versus Movie https://www.instagram.com/bookversusmovie/Email us at bookversusmoviepodcast@gmail.com Margo D. Twitter @BrooklynMargo Margo D's Blog www.brooklynfitchick.com Margo D's Instagram “Brooklyn Fit Chick”Margo D's TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@margodonohuebrooklynfitchick@gmail.comYou can buy your copy of Filmed in Brooklyn here! Margo P. Twitter @ShesNachoMamaMargo P's Instagram https://www.instagram.com/shesnachomama/Margo P's Blog https://coloniabook.weebly.com/ Our logo was designed by Madeleine Gainey/Studio 39 Marketing Follow on Instagram @Studio39Marketing & @musicalmadeleine

Join us for the first Tuesday Coffee with Jack Spirko, John Willis and Nicole Sauce. We talk about what we see coming economically in 2024, ways to get motivated, building your success and more. Featured Event: Jan 13 Farmstead Friends Holiday Event, Lenoir City, TN Sponsor 1: Paul Weaton and Permies.com - Homestead and Permaculture Bundle on sale for $35 through Wednesday Night. https://permies.com/w/bundle?f=495 Sponsor 2: AgoristTaxAdvice.com/LFTN  Show Resources Special Operations Equipment Living Free in Tennessee The Survival Podcast Main content of the show Make it a great week! GUYS! Don't forget about the cookbook, Cook With What You Have by Nicole Sauce and Mama Sauce.  Community FreeSteading Group: https://freesteading.com/groups/living-free-in-tennessee/ Mewe Group: https://mewe.com/join/lftn Telegram Group: https://t.me/LFTNGroup Odysee: https://odysee.com/$/invite/@livingfree:b Twitter: @nicolesauce IG: @nicolesauce Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LivingFreeInTN  Resources Membership Sign Up Holler Roast Coffee Harvest Right Affiliate Link