The Path to Holiness: A Poem of Sorts...

“Be holy, for I am holy.” 1 Peter 1.16

The path to holiness is a path that we are all commanded to walk, guided by the Holy Spirit, who rests upon the creation that He is in the process of bringing back to life. The true life of paradise that has been lost. Knowledge of this life is a silent seed that sits in the center of each and every human heart, waiting to be watered by the grace that falls, like golden rain, from heaven. We all have this seed within us waiting to be awakened by love: the love of God that is a suffering love, replete with the desire that all that has been lost, be regained, and that all who have been lost, be returned. In this regard, the path to holiness is the path to love, they are one and the same. Love paves the difficult path upon which we walk back to a place that we know but that we can’t remember, and love is the light that illuminates the path itself, showing us where to tread, so that we don’t miss a step and fall astray.

Although strong, the quivering flame that lights the lamp of love, which leads us from one point to the next, is delicate, and can be easily stamped out. In order not to deprive us of the special gift of losing control, this lamp of love takes great care not to overwhelm us by lighting up too much of the path ahead, but instead stays very close, leading us step by step. Occasionally this lamp of love will lift itself up high above our heads, to light a swathe of the path ahead, showing us where this is all leading. A breathtaking sight that we can refer back to, when we feel that all we are doing is walking round in circles: that we are making no progress and that we are going nowhere.

The path to holiness (which is also the path of loneliness) is often the opposite of that which it appears to be, to the outside eye (which is the eye of nature, not the eye of the Spirit). The eye of nature sees things according to their form, but the eye of the Spirit sees things according to their essence. The process of getting to the essence is the path to holiness by another name. Because the path to holiness is thorough, it is also long and winding, frequently unfurling in seemingly never-ending spirals, that lead us back to, and through, historical pain points that we had thought long healed. Although a need for healing is the thing that set us on this path in the first place, the beauty of the path to holiness and all the blessings that it bestows on us, can occasionally cause us to forget the reason that we started walking, to forget that we are sick.

God in His love, reminds us that we are not yet fully healed, through carefully controlled circumstances that artfully press on our pressure points—strongholds in the emotions and in the thoughts—in order that they can be triggered and release can be found. Chaotic and scary those these messy moments can be, the Healer, who knows our hearts in a way that we simply don’t, and who knows our path in a way that we simply can’t (though He generously shares with us much more than we are possibly able to comprehend regarding the nature of both), never gives us more than we can handle, and always provides abundant grace to carry us through these periods of purification.

The pain that permeates the path to holiness is something that deters many of us from taking the first step. A situation that causes the whole earth to be filled with the aching of God’s heart. The fear is understandable: suffering is something that we are biologically programed to avoid, and crucifixion (of the self and of the ego), which is the particular picture of pain that God has chosen to use to help us understand the sacrificial nature of His divine love, is something that we avoid at all costs. But once we start walking, it soon becomes clear that the pain that penetrates the path to holiness, that is, the pain of the Cross, is a holy pain; a loving pain that presses into the hardened hearts of all those willing to walk, making them again tender, soft and sweet. This soft and tender sweetness fills the air with the fragrance of the flowers of Eden. 

The scent of holiness, which blesses all those who are walking, and which entices all those who have not yet started to walk, rests particularly abundantly on the people who have been walking the path for a long time, and who have spent many, many years falling down and getting back up again. But it is by no means confined to them alone.  The Living God “does not give the spirit by measure” (John 3.34) and He likes to encourage those who are new to the path, by momentarily drowning them in the flowers of heaven, as a means of propelling them forward in their walk. Inevitably these flowers will be lost: carelessly forgotten or foolishly thrown away to be trampled underfoot. But they can return, and in even greater a number, if sought diligently enough with tears and the groaning of a broken heart.

There is a lot of confusion regarding the path to holiness and the pain experienced by those walking it. Confusion about why the pain is there in the first place and what the source of the pain is. Many of us, who have been deceived by descriptions of the Divine that bear no resemblance to the source of holiness Himself, mistakenly believe that the psychological torment that we experienced in our life before Christ, and that seems to continue to accompany us in our life in Christ, comes from God Himself, and is the holy suffering of the saints (the heart piercing pain of which we just spoke). But this idea, which was planted outside the garden of grace, does not represent the truth of the Divine Gardener, whose basket full of healing herbs and medicinal leaves alone offers us the cure for which we are desperately searching.

Although frequently allowing pain to persist once we start walking the path, as a means of cleansing our hearts, the God of light in whom “there is no darkness at all,” is not its source (1 John 1.5). The suffering of the saints has an edible quality that makes one want to eat more and more of it: it tastes like honey and carries a heady aroma. Inside the garden of grace (of which the path to holiness is the garden path), any psychological torment that we experience will always find its source in our own fallen minds and hearts, never in Christ. Excruciating though it is, if we are patient, if we refuse to give up and if we force ourselves to keep walking (in prayer and in song), there will come a point when this agony will cease and the oppression that has been holding us down, will be completely lifted, to float away, carried aloft by the incense clouds of the praying saints.

Be holy, for I am holy: Lord, please show us how to do this, guide us every step of the way, and lead us in our words, thoughts and actions, as we struggle towards our home at the foot of your holy throne.  

Amen +

Author of You Are Mine, and Apocalypse, a free, weekly newsletter on the practical experience of the mystical life, Sister Anastasia writes on the role of the ancient, ascetic Church in a rapidly changing, modern world.

Photo by Felix Mittermeier