Anger and Swearing - An Orthodox Response

I was delighted to hear your comments yesterday when I heard you speak very thoughtfully as you described your struggle with anger and swearing. This awareness is at the heart of Orthodoxy. It reflects a living spirit of repentance. 

In Orthodoxy, we do not begin with self-justification but with honesty before God. We re all sinners. We have inherited this brokenness from the Fall. Most are blind to their weakness and give themselves over to cultural norms rather than to the transforming teaching of Christ. Your awareness reflects that you are already on the right path.

Anger and swearing are passions—not merely bad habits, but disordered energies of the soul.
Anger is the incensive power meant to resist evil, turned inward or misdirected.
Swearing is anger escaping through speech, revealing inner unrest.

Now that you recognize this passion at work in your soul, the task before you is to begin learning how to heal it—especially as you continue your journey toward Orthodoxy, where you will eventually benefit fully from the sacramental life of the Church. 

Let me offer a few suggestions for you as you strive to become Orthodox when you will be able to benefit from the sacramental life.
Swearing: This can be one of the easier habits to address first. The key is replacement. When you feel the urge to swear, substitute another response—such as quietly saying, “Lord, have mercy.” It will feel forced at first, but over time it becomes natural. Another powerful option is silence. You may have noticed that icons of the saints often depict them with small mouths—this reflects restraint of speech and inner stillness.

Anger: Anger is often connected to swearing, but it usually runs deeper. You will need to explore what triggers it and what lies beneath it. Sometimes this requires looking back at earlier wounds—family dynamics, unresolved pain, or patterns learned in childhood. Forgiveness is essential. A pure heart cannot be formed without reconciliation, especially toward parents or siblings where wounds often begin.

When anger arises, ask quietly: “What am I protecting right now?” Often the answer reveals pride, fear, or wounded love.

This struggle requires prayer and the help of the Holy Spirit. Have you been able to establish a daily prayer rule and remain faithful to it? This is a foundational spiritual practice. In prayer, ask Christ fervently to heal this tendency—not merely to suppress it, but to transform your heart. 

Fasting is also important. Have you begun practicing the Wednesday and Friday fasts, at least by abstaining from meat? If possible, you might gradually make this more strict by also avoiding dairy. The Fathers teach clearly that bodily restraint softens the soul and weakens anger.

Some simple things that can help in the moment: Stop speaking when it arises. Lower your eyes, and this can break the momentum of the passion. Say the Jesus prayer quietly or take a short walk reciting this prayer.

Finally, expect healing, not perfection. Orthodoxy does not promise instant victory over the passions. This can be a lifelong effort. Real progress often looks like fewer outbursts, quicker repentance, softer reactions, and deeper humility.
Be encouraged. Awareness itself is already the beginning of healing.

Here are two psalms you can use for prayer.

Psalm 38/39
1 For the End, for Jeduthun; an ode by David.*
2 I said, “I will guard my ways, that I may not sin with my tongue;
I set a guard on my mouth
When the sinner stood against me.”
3 I was deadened and humbled; and I kept silent, even from good;
And my grief was stirred anew.
4 My heart was hot within me,
And in my meditation, fire will be kindled.
I spoke with my tongue,
5 “O Lord, make me to know my end,
And what is the measure of my days,
So as to know what I lack.
6 Behold, You made my days as a handbreadth,
And my existence is as nothing before You;
But all things are vanity, and every man living. (Pause)
7 “Nevertheless man walks about like a phantom;
Surely in vain they stir themselves up;
He stores up treasure, but does not know for whom he will gather it.
8 And now what is my patience?
Is it not the Lord?
And my support is from You.
9 Deliver me from all my transgressions;
You made me a reproach to the undiscerning.
10 I was dumb and opened not my mouth;
For You are He who made me.
11 Take away Your scourges from me;
Because of the strength of Your hand I fainted.
12 With rebukes You chasten a man for his transgression,
And You cause his soul to waste away like a spider web;
But every man stirs himself up in vain. (Pause)
13 “Hear my prayer, O Lord,
And give ear to my supplication;
Do not be silent at my tears,
For I am a sojourner before You,
And a stranger, as were all my fathers.
14 Do not forsake me, that I may revive
Before I depart and am no longer here.”

Another: 
(Psalm 140/141)
1 psalm by David.*
O Lord, I have cried to You; hear me; Give heed to the voice of my supplication when I cry to You.
2 Let my prayer be set forth before You as incense,
The lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice.
3 Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth,
A door of enclosure about my lips.
4 Incline not my heart to evil words,
To make excuses in sins
With men who work lawlessness;
And I will not join with their choice ones.
5 The righteous man shall correct me
With mercy, and he shall reprove me;
But let not the oil of the sinner anoint my head,
For my prayer shall be intense in the presence of their pleasures.
6 Their judges are swallowed up by the rock;
They shall hear my words, for they are pleasant.
7 As a clod of ground is dashed to pieces on the earth,
So our bones were scattered beside the grave.
8 For my eyes, O Lord, O Lord, are toward You;
In You I hope; take not my soul away.
9 Keep me from the snares they set for me,
And from the stumbling blocks of those who work lawlessness.
10 Sinners shall fall into their own net;
I am alone, until I escape.

In Orthodoy we overcome swearing and anger by healing the heart through prayer, fasting, silence, confession, and mercy.

The Invisible Church-- Truth or Heresy?

The questions that Protestants raise about the invisible Church is very interesting—and I think important. Many including some Orthodoxy have  concern for the salvation of those who seem to love Christ, follow His word, and yet are not part of the Church suggesting there may be an invisible church.

This  idea of an invisible church isn’t a concept I have personally held or pondered. As I understand it, however, the idea of the invisible Church arose during the Reformation in response to a concern somewhat different from the one many express today.

History

Historically, it developed out of the question of how the Church could remain holy when so many of its visible members—including clergy—were clearly sinful, corrupt, or divided. This was a direct challenge to the condition of the Roman Catholic Church at the time. The Reformers were trying to protect both the holiness of the Church and the sincerity of faith.

The conceptual roots of the idea go back to St. Augustine, as do many developments in Western Christianity. Augustine distinguished between the visible Church—a mixed body of saints and sinners—and the true members of Christ, who are known fully only to God. He was responding to the Donatists, who claimed that the Church had to be pure or it was not truly the Church at all. Augustine argued instead that the Church on earth is a mixed body and that God alone knows who truly belongs to Him. Importantly, Augustine did not deny the Church’s visibility or sacramental reality. Still, this emphasis on interior belonging created a framework that later Western theology would develop further.

By the 16th century, Reformers such as Luther and Calvin rejected the authority and structures of Roman Catholic church, the sacramental efficacy as understood by Rome, and the idea that visible unity guaranteed truth. Yet they still needed to affirm that Christ has one Church. When they asked, “If Rome is corrupt, where is the true Church?”—a question very similar to what many inquirers ask today—their answer became that the true Church is invisible, known only to God, united by faith rather than by institution. In this way, they could affirm the unity of the Church without any visible unity.

At the same time, they developed the doctrine of salvation by faith alone. This theological move required a corresponding ecclesiology. Salvation was no longer something sought primarily within the visible Church through sacramental communion, but rather an interior act of faith grounded in a legal declaration by God that provided personal assurance. The Church therefore became a spiritual reality rather than a visible body. The Roman Chruchno loggerhead authority sacramentally. The sacraments became signs of faith rather than the means of union with Christ in His Church. Visible membership no longer guaranteed anything spiritually real.

Orthodoxy never took this path, even though it faced many of the same historical problems. It never separated grace from the sacraments, salvation from communion, or Christ from His visible Body. Instead, Orthodoxy understands the Church as a hospital for wounded souls—fallen since the time of Adam and Eve—not a society of the already perfected.

I think the idea of the invisible Church persists today for some understandable reasons. It avoids judging others, helps explain sincere Christians outside Orthodoxy, and fits well with the modern cultural emphasis on individualism.

The overriding issue for Orthodoxy, however, is that what is essential is communion with Christ—and that communion takes place in His Church, which is both mystical and visible, heavenly and earthly, spiritual and embodied

Thoughts based on Staniloae Dogmatic theology

For Stăniloae, the Church is the continuation of the Incarnation in history.
1. If Christ truly became flesh, then His Body cannot be reduced to something merely spiritual, inward, or invisible. To separate the Church from visible, historical, sacramental life is to undermine the Incarnation itself. The Church is Christ’s Body, not an abstract fellowship of believers known only to God.

2. The Invisible Church separates Grace from concrete communion. He points out that the Protestant idea undermines sacramental purpose, rejection of apostolic continuity and need for clergy for the sacramental life, and an individualized understanding of salvation. An “invisible Church” implies invisible grace detached from embodied communion, which Stăniloae sees as foreign to both Scripture and the Fathers

3. The Church is visible because Love is visible. he Church is not just an institution but visibly gathered in the Eucharist, ordered by the Bishops and priest, manifest in love and communion. He asserts that love cannot be an abstraction but must believed, shared and embodied A invisible church would reduce salvation to a private experience rather than a shared life.

4. This idea of an invisible church also undermines Eucharistic reality. He says the the Eucharist is not symbolic, requires a visible Community, and is needed for our salvation. If the Church were invisible it wold become merely a sign of personal belief rather than a real participation in Christ’s Body.

5. The invisible Church undermines the reality of the Incarnation itself. The Church is an extension of the Incarnation. Christ remains present body and historically through the Church. The Holy Spirit does not replace Christ’s visible Body.

The danger of the “invisible Church” idea is that it quietly separates love for Christ from the concrete, incarnational life Christ Himself established. Christ did not leave us a set of teachings alone, but a Body, His Church and the sacrament of Holy Communion.. He did not say, “Wherever hearts are sincere, there is My Church,” but “Take, eat… this is My Body.” Love, in the Orthodox understanding, is never purely inward or abstract; it seeks embodiment, communion, and shared life.

At the same time, Orthodoxy has never claimed to limit God’s authority to declare who is saved or how God works in the hearts of those outside the visible Church. We simply refuse to turn that mystery into a doctrine. We can affirm that many love Christ and live according to His teaching without needing to say that they already belong to the Church in some invisible way. God alone knows the depths of each heart and the ways His grace is at work. Since Chris is clear about the way we may assume that these exceptions are probably rare but we cannot know this.

The Church remains visible because salvation is not just an inner relationship but a life of communion. God’s mercy remains vast because He is not limited by our categories.

Orthodoxy has always held two things together at once, without collapsing one into the other. On the one hand, the Church is very concrete: a visible Body with bishops, sacraments, Eucharist, and apostolic continuity. On the other hand, God’s mercy and activity are not confined by our boundaries or our ability to identify who belongs where. The mystery is not resolved by turning the Church into an abstraction, but by trusting that God is both faithful to His Church and infinitely merciful beyond our comprehension.

My summary

God became incarnate for our salvation. In Christ, His divinity and humanity are united without confusion or separation. Christ and the Holy Spirit are one in will and action. At Pentecost, Christ sends the Holy Spirit to empower the Apostles and to establish the Church, which is His Body on earth.

In the Church, Christ Himself is truly present and gives Himself to us through Holy Communion. It is in His Church that Christ abides in this way in order to draw us into full communion with Him. Salvation, therefore, is not merely an intellectual understanding of Christ, nor is it a self-directed effort to live according to His commandments as one might obey civic laws. Salvation is participation in the life of Christ, and this participation takes place in the Church.

This life begins with Baptism, by which we are united to Christ and receive the Holy Spirit dwelling within us. Through this gift, we are given the power to grow into His likeness. Christ then commands us to partake of His Body and Blood in the Eucharist, which He gives for the life of the world. This sacramental communion takes place within the Church and is administered through the ordained clergy, according to the order Christ Himself established.

At the same time, we must never say or imply that we limit God’s power to save. Salvation belongs to God alone, and His mercy is beyond our understanding. While the fullness of salvation is given in the Church, we are not given authority to determine how God may complete His saving work in those who are not visibly within her. Such persons are entrusted to the mercy of God, who judges each soul according to the light, freedom, and response to grace that it has received.

With this understanding, the idea of an “invisible Church” cannot be a valid Orthodox understanding. It implies that the Church is not truly necessary for salvation, and that a purely personal faith in Christ—apart from sacramental communion in His Body—is sufficient in itself. In this way, the Church becomes optional rather than essential, and salvation is reduced to an interior belief rather than participation in Christ’s incarnate life.

We must carefully distinguish between God’s freedom to act outside the visible boundaries of the Church and the necessity of the Church for our salvation. To deny the Church is to deny the concrete, incarnational way Christ chose to remain present in the world. Christ established a visible Church so that we might partake of His Body and Blood in Holy Communion as members of a faithful family united in love for Him. Its seems that to reject consciously the church as the reformed did is to react Christ Himself.

Through the sacramental life of the Church—Baptism, the Eucharist, and the other mysteries Christ entrusted to her—we are healed, purified of our sinful tendencies and passions, and gradually united to Christ in preparation for eternal life. Salvation, therefore, is not an abstract faith or moral effort, but a lived communion with Christ in the Church He established.

Faith, Prayer, and Fasting: A Living Unity in the Christian Life

 

In Orthodox Christianity, faith is never understood as a merely internal conviction or intellectual assent. Scripture consistently presents faith as a living, active reality—one that expresses itself concretely through prayer, fasting, repentance, and love. For this reason, the Church teaches that true faith naturally gives birth to prayer and fasting, and that these disciplines, in turn, strengthen and preserve faith.

The Bible never separates faith from prayer. Saint Paul exhorts believers to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess. 5:17), not as an optional spiritual practice, but as the normal rhythm of Christian life. Prayer is the voice of faith turned toward God. A faith that does not pray inevitably weakens, because faith lives through communion with the One in whom it trusts.

Likewise, fasting is not presented in Scripture as an extreme or optional discipline for a spiritual elite. Christ Himself assumes fasting as a normal part of discipleship when He says, “When you fast…” (Matt. 6:16), and He teaches that after His departure, His disciples will fast (Matt. 9:15). Fasting is a bodily expression of faith—a way of ordering our desires, cultivating watchfulness, and reminding ourselves that we live not by bread alone, but by dependence on God.

Prayer and fasting are also closely linked in Scripture to spiritual struggle. When the disciples were unable to cast out a demon, Christ explained that such battles require prayer (Mark 9:29), a teaching the Church has always understood as including fasting as well. In the Acts of the Apostles, we see the early Church consistently joining prayer and fasting when seeking the guidance of the Holy Spirit or appointing leaders (Acts 13:2–3; 14:23). These practices sharpen spiritual discernment and strengthen the believer against the passions and the powers that oppose life in Christ.

Importantly, prayer and fasting do not replace faith, nor do they earn salvation. Rather, they are the fruit and nourishment of living faith. As Saint James teaches, “faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead” (James 2:17). Prayer and fasting are not external additions to faith; they are how faith breathes, grows, and remains vigilant.

Beyond the Manger: Christmas Is the Birth of a New Humanity

In this season, when we are scurrying about to buy presents and celebrate with friends, co-workers, and family, we should pause and ask ourselves: What are we celebrating?

Supposedly, it is about a newborn baby whom Christians claim to be God in human flesh. But is this merely God “appearing” in the world? Is it simply the beginning of Christ’s sacrificial work?

No! It’s much more.

Christmas is the beginning of a new humanity. In the birth of this Child from a virgin mother, God’s divine nature is united with human nature, and the divine energies of God permeate the very depths of what it means to be human.

For a very long time, humanity struggled to follow God’s teachings. He gave us a Law. He sent prophets. Yet more was needed to fulfill the divine plan.

In Paradise, Adam and Eve were created in God’s image and were challenged to use their free will in obedience to His will. They were tempted and failed. Their choice brought about a voluntary separation from the divine union they had enjoyed. To complete His plan for them, God sent them out of Paradise, clothed them in “skins”—a mortal, physical life destined to die. And over many generations it became clear that humanity could not overcome this wounded condition on its own. Something more was required for healing and for the full development of what it means to bear God’s image.

What was needed was an inner change, a restoration of union with God so that divine energy could once again flow through the human heart—giving the power to overcome the passions inherited in this mortal life. Without this healing, mankind remained separated from its Creator.

Sin could not be overcome by human effort alone. Pride infected humanity, and the more people tried to save themselves, the more prideful they became—placing themselves at the center of creation. They could not reach out in humility to embrace the love of their Creator.

This is where the significance of the Incarnation comes into play.

The Incarnation of the Son of God, Jesus Christ, was not simply a way to pay a debt, nor merely a lesson in virtue. He came to transform human nature itself. Humanity needed an inner healing. By uniting divine and human natures in His miraculous birth, Christ opened the path for all mankind to receive divine energy, to gain the power needed to tame the passions of our fallen nature, and to grow into the likeness of God—into the likeness of Christ Himself.

Today, because of this transforming event, all people can be united with Christ through:

• a rebirth in Baptism,
• the receiving of the Holy Spirit into the heart,
• partaking of His Body and Blood in Holy Communion,
• a life guided by clergy ordained by Him,
• discipleship and cooperation with His Spirit,
• and membership in His Body, the Church, the gathering of the faithful.

This is what we are truly supposed to be celebrating in this season.

It has nothing to do with gift-giving, Santa Claus, or the endless consumerism that fills these weeks with noise and distraction.

Let us reflect instead on this great event—how we have been blessed by this transformation, how we are empowered by the Holy Spirit to be reunited with Christ, and how, through cooperation with His divine energies, He now lives within us, preparing us for eternal life with Him and a return to Paradise.

How the Devil Tries to Distract You During Prayer (and How to Resist)

Prayer is one of the fundamental Christian spiritual practices. When we become serious about our faith, we often establish a daily prayer rule—setting aside time in the morning and evening to pray. Yet many discover that as they increase their prayer time, they become distracted or discouraged, and sometimes fall away from this most essential practice. Prayer is vital because through it we relate to God, and in a mystical way communicate with Him and He with us.

The devil works tirelessly to discourage us—not only in prayer, but in all our efforts to live according to the Gospel. His aim is to keep us from salvation. We therefore need strong faith and perseverance as we journey toward union with God, preparing ourselves for eternal life in His Kingdom. We must see the devil as a real enemy who attacks from all sides, using deceit and subtle ploys to confuse, distract, and dishearten us.

One common tactic is to discourage us from keeping the prayer times we have set. Demons tempt us by suggesting other activities, implanting thoughts or mental images, or persuading us that something else is more important than prayer. This is why the Fathers insist that we concentrate on the words of the prayer. When we focus on the words, we are strengthened against temptation. During prayer we must reject all thoughts—good or bad—and give our full attention to the words, embracing them in our heart.

Saint Ignatius Brianchaninov teaches:

“When sinful thoughts and fantasies appear to you, do not pay the slightest attention to them. The moment you see them with your mind, enclose your mind in the words of the prayer all the more earnestly…”

He describes several tactics the devil uses:

The enemy may remind us of those who have wronged us, stirring up old hurts and demanding justice, retaliation, or self-defense. He tries to inflame resentment and destroy the foundation of prayer, which is forgiveness and meekness. A person consumed with anger or unwilling to forgive cannot gain compunction or concentrate in prayer; angry thoughts scatter prayer.

The devil may bring to mind ways we have failed others—not to lead us to repentance, but to distract us and turn our mind away from prayer. For this reason, it is important to reconcile with others beforehand, so the enemy cannot use unresolved tensions to disturb us.

Saint Ignatius writes:

“Forgiveness of wrongs and offenses—changing condemnation of our neighbors into kindness and mercy so that we excuse them and blame ourselves—provides the only solid basis for successful prayer.”

He will also tempt us by recalling past successes, encouraging pride, or turning our thoughts toward increasing our comfort or material well-being. Anything that easily captures our attention becomes an opportunity for distraction.

Again Saint Ignatius warns:

We must refuse the joy brought by those fancies and reflections that destroy in us contrition of spirit, concentration, and attention during prayer, and that lead to self-opinion and distraction. If we consent to thoughts of resentment and condemnation, or to thoughts and fantasies of vainglory, pride, love of money, or love of the world—and if we dawdle in them or take pleasure in them—then we enter into fellowship with Satan, and the power of God which protects us will leave us.

Our challenge, once we understand these tactics, is to develop a strategy for guarding ourselves.
First, we should expect such temptations.
Second, we must be prepared to reject them immediately—every thought other than the words of the prayer.

Do not allow yourself to judge your friend, spouse, coworker, or anyone else. Simply ask God to have mercy on them, forgive any offense you feel, and return to the words of the prayer.

Likewise, reject any thoughts that inflate self-esteem or pride. Humility is essential to prayer.

Saint Ignatius teaches:

“We will renounce and deny ourselves—our souls and our lives; that is, we will refuse to seek human glory or chase needlessly after a comfortable earthly position and privileges, surrendering ourselves entirely to the will of God, thanking Him for our past and present, and leaving our future to Him.”

Before beginning prayer, set aside every grievance. Humble yourself, take the blame upon yourself, forgive those who have wronged you, and clear your mind of anything that could later become a distraction.

Saint Ignatius concludes:

“Let us begin our prayer with a prayer for our enemies. Let us unite ourselves in prayer with all men, and ask God to have mercy on us together with all men everywhere—not because we are fit or worthy to pray for mankind, but in order to fulfill the commandment of love which says, ‘Pray for one another.’”

Reference: Saint Ignatius Brianchaninov, The Harvest, volume IV of collected works.

Understanding Christ’s Command “Do Not Love the World”

Jesus said, “Do not love the world or the things in the world” (1 John 2:15). 

What did He mean by this?

He is reminding us that we live in a fallen world—a world marked by sin, corruption, and death. This is the fallen condition we have inherited from Adam and Eve, and it touches every human life. We live amid its temptations and illusions, but our goal as Christians is not to embrace the norms of this world or to try to conform to its values, but to transcend it—to purify ourselves, unite with Christ, and become worthy of eternal life in His Kingdom.

Blessed Theophylact explains that “it is usual for Scripture to call the world the life of sinful people of carnal outlook living in it.” In other words, “the world” refers not to creation itself—which God made good—but to the way of life of those who live apart from God, following passions rather than Christ. We could restate this teaching as: Do not live as those who love the world and its sinful ways, but strive instead to overcome the world within yourself.

Saint John continues, 

For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world. And the world is passing away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever. (1 John 2:15-17)

These “three lusts” summarize the passions that dominate fallen humanity. They are not from the Father, because they draw our hearts away from divine love. Everything worldly passes away—but whoever lives according to the will of God abides forever.

This path is not an easy one, even though Christ says, “My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” It is light when borne with humility and love, yet it remains a struggle. We are all sinners, no matter how good we think we are. Our self-confidence in our own goodness is a delusion born of pride and a great obstacle to spiritual growth. To overcome this fallen nature, we must struggle within the life of the Church—through the sacraments, repentance, prayer, fasting, and the other spiritual disciplines Christ has given us.

Jesus affirms that this path is difficult:

“Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.” (Matt 7:13-14)

One of our greatest challenges is to recognize our condition and embrace the path that leads to salvation. When we accept that we are sinful and in need of healing, we can begin to change through repentance. As we take a few steps along this path, we start to see our true state and learn not to love the world or to follow its ways, but instead to live according to the Gospel. This is not necessarily a monastic path, but a way of life that can be lived in the world—guided by Christ and following the Holy Spirit who dwells in us.

Saint Ignatius Brianchaninov said that the “world” we must renounce is not merely external, but within us:

“This does not mean going off to live in a cave or, if you are married, to go to a monastery. The world we must leave is a condition that exists in us. It’s our separation from god and our delusion that we are a “good” person. It’s a difficult task to embrace the reality that we are of the world that Jesus speaks. Once we are awakened to our fallen nature, we discover how much work we need to undertake to become like Christ.” 

We must live in this world with awareness of its fallen nature—the same fallen world we inherited after Adam and Eve. It is a world of trials and tribulations that God allows so that we may perfect our will to love, no matter the circumstances. Every difficulty becomes an opportunity to grow in patience, humility, and compassion.

Saint Ignatius also warns:

“Do not allow fallen spirits to deceive and seduce you… Do not expect and do not seek praise and approval from human society. Do not hanker after fame and glory. 

 Do not expect and do not seek an untroubled life with plenty of latitude and scope, replete with every convenience. That is not your lot. Do not seek and do not expect love from people. Seek earnestly and demand from yourself love and compassion for others. Be content with the fact that a few true servants of God whom you meet from time to time in the course of your life love you…”

This is what Christ meant when He told us to bear our cross and follow Him. The cross is a life of self-denial, struggle, and at times persecution. We should not expect that the way of God will be welcomed by most people around us. To follow Christ is to accept that the world may reject us, just as it rejected Him.

This path He has given us requires that we bear many trials and learn to submit our will to His. This means learning to constrain our desires and resist temptations. The Church provides us with ascetic practices—prayer, fasting, confession, and sacramental worship—to train our will and strengthen our love for God.

When we struggle against the passions, we can remember the Apostle Paul and the early Christians who lived faithfully in a hostile, pagan world. They lived in an awareness that at any moment they might be captured or killed, yet they rejoiced in Christ. We too can learn to overcome our passions and become “crucified to the world,” living no longer for its pleasures but for the love of God.

We resist taking this path because it is natural to us to love the pleasures in this life, but we must become attached to or expect them. The entire economic system and popular culture are built upon the pursuit of comfort, pleasure, and self-satisfaction. Through constant advertisements, social media, and entertainment, we are lured to love the world and to forget God. But Christ calls us to be free from these illusions—to live differently, to love differently.

Saint Ignatius points to the many passions that keep us enslaved:

“Love of riches, desire for possessions, bodily pleasures from which come sexual passion, love of honor which gives rise to envy, list for power, arrogance, and pride of position, the craving to adorn oneself with luxurious clothes and vain ornaments, the itch for hungry glory which is a source of rancor and resentment, and physical fear. Where these passions cease to be active, there the world is dead.”

Now is the time, life is short, to uncover the passions that control our behavior. As you commit yourself to a life of prayer, repentance, and worship, you will begin to see the nature of this fallen world more clearly. You will discern how its values differ from the Gospel, and you will come to understand what it means not to love the world, but to love Christ above all.

As St Ignatius reminds us: 

“The right use of earthly life consists in preparing oneself for eternal life—making it our one business to please God, borrowing from the world only what is essential.”

As you live a life of repentance within the Church, you will cease to be a servant of the world and become instead a servant of Christ. Your heart will find joy in worship, your soul will be nourished by the sacraments, and your mind will be illumined through prayer and spiritual discipline. In this way, you will make the Gospel your highest priority and the Kingdom of God your true home.

Then you will understand what it means when Christ says, “Do not love the world.”

It is not a rejection of life itself, but an invitation to real life—to live in this world while belonging to another, to walk through its fleeting shadows while being filled with the light of the eternal Kingdom.

References: Saint Brianchaninov, The Harvest, Collected works volume IV