Cassian is at it again this morning, poking at the tender spots in my spiritual life, forcing me to reckon uncomfortably with sores I’d rather nurse alone. Really, he’s talking about something (almost) entirely different in Conferences 2.16, which is mostly occupied with questions of free will & human effort. But hearing this verse as the very last words of today’s chapter prodding something that was brought to the surface of my heart yesterday: spiritual pride.

Today is the feast of St. Thomas the Apostle, as observed by the Episcopal Church and sundry other Churches (December 21st was the date in most Western Calendars before the 1969 Roman Calendar). St. Thomas holds an obvious special place in my heart because I’m Malayali—our established folklore says that he traveled to the Malabar coast and established 7 churches there, which have persisted and proliferated into the St. Thomas Christian (Nasrani) community. So the story of St. Thomas was a well-rehearsed tale in my home growing up, even in spite of my parents’ aggressive Protestantism.

Today the Western Churches commemorate La Virgen de Guadalupe, a Marian apparition to St. Juan Diego in 1531. The veneration of this apparition, centered in Mexican Roman Catholicism, has spread into American Anglicanism as the Latinx population of the Episcopal Church continues to grow. The story is lovely and is told in brief in the Roman Catholic Office of Readings for today. When I do the antecommunion for feasts, I typically use the second reading from the Office of Readings in lieu of a homily. And as I read it this morning, Our Lady’s words to St. Juan Diego pierced my heart in an even deeper way than they have before:

Our dog is recovering from her surgery (she just got spayed—nothing serious); so we skipped our usual morning walk through the cemetery. This gave me the welcome opportunity to pray Matins a little earlier. One of the psalms today is Psalm 56, which contains one of the verses that has captured my imagination since I was a small child:

I wanted to share a quote from today’s Cassian reading. In Conf. 2.13, Abba Moses shares the story of an old man, a veteran in the monastic life, who responds harshly to a young monk who comes seeking his advice and consolation. Because of his lack of compassion towards a younger one struggling with sin, he himself is stricken by temptations which he cannot resist. The point of his trial is laid out thus:

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.