In my reading from Cassian’s Conferences this morning (2.9-12), Abba Moses spoke to Germanus about how to cultivate the virtue of ‘discretion’ or ‘discernment’ (depending on your translation) which is so vital to the spiritual life. The importance of the discernment of spirits—determining which thoughts and impulses of from God and which are from Satan—is quite familiar to me from my work with Ignatian spiritual directors in particular. And I’d like to think I make it a priority in my relationship with God more times than not. But Abba Moses’ advice to Germanus convicted me of a way I may be fooling myself into thinking I’m making progress.
Telling the story of a monk who, after months of letting this vice fester, confesses to his spiritual father than he has been stealing and hoarding food beyond his share. Immediately upon confessing this sin and the λογισμός behind it, the monk is (almost physically) freed from enslavement to it.
Abba Moses uses this story to exhort Germanus and us to divulge our thoughts to spiritual elders on an ongoing basis and heed their counsel. We are not to “presume to decide anything on the basis of our own private judgment” alone (2.11) or to think that we have no need of a teacher.
So far so good. “Yes,” I nod along, “this is wise.” But Germanus, reflecting on this teaching names the opposite of this openness a “false modesty” (2.12), a phrase which stung like a whip this morning.
See, I’ve been trying to make a practice of restraining my speech… especially on social media platforms… especially Twitter, where I’m prone to spitting out half-baked thoughts that lead to controversy and harm. And I’ve been doing better at it! Probably 8 times out of 10 now, I keep my thoughts to myself rather than snapping out some pithy tirade about the evils of Reformed sacramentology or something. And this progress has felt good. “St. Benedict would be proud,” I say, “God is really helping me restrain my speech.”
What Abba Moses and Germanus’ comments today reveal to me, though, is that I’m often missing a crucial piece of this restraint: confession. I don’t just mean the Sacrament of Reconciliation (though that’s important too and something I’ve missed during this pandemic). I mean divulging the thoughts in my heart and discerning their worth in community rather than trusting the interior of my heart. Keeping my hot takes off Twitter is good, but it’s not the same as the spiritual discipline of restraint of speech. In order for my silence to cultivate virtue instead of security in a skin-deep humility, my silence needs to be accompanied by a vulnerability to spiritual counsel. I seek counsel on the big things in my spiritual life, sure, but Abba Moses is nudging me to divulge even the little things.
I have no answers; this is just some musing. But it’s put a crack in a nascent self-satisfaction. May I both set a guard over my mouth and let my lips be opened by God.