جبل الصمت بحث عن الروحانية الارثوذكسية

by Kyriacos C. Markides

The spiritual traditions of the Eastern Orthodox Church are all but unknown to most Christians in the West, who often think of Christianity as split into two camps: Bible-based Protestantism and sacramental Catholicism. Yet in The Mountain of Silence, sociologist Kyriacos Markides suggests that Orthodox spirituality offers rich resources for Western Christians to integrate the head and the heart, and to regain a more expansive view of Christian life. The book combines elements of memoir, travelogue, and history in a single story. Markides journeys to a cluster of monasteries on Mount Athos, an isolated peninsula in northern Greece and one of the holiest sites in the Orthodox tradition. He also visits the troubled island of Cyprus, largely occupied by Turkey since 1974, and makes the acquaintance of a monk named Father Maximos, who has established churches, convents, and monasteries. Markides, a native Cypriot, tells the tale of this journey in a tone that's loose and light, with many excursions on Church history and Greek and Turkish politics. But despite the easygoing tone, the importance of this book is potentially immense. The Mountain of Silence introduces a world that is entirely new to many Western readers, and unveils a Christian tradition that reveres the mystical approach to God as much as the rational, a tradition that Markides says "may have the potential to inject Christianity with the new vitality that it so desperately needs." --Michael Joseph Gross

Genres: Religion, Christianity, Spirituality, Nonfiction, Theology, Christian, Faith

470 pages, Hardcover

First published September 18, 2001

Reviews

[booklady · Rating 5 out of 5]

The title, The Mountain of Silence, by Kyriacos C. Markides is an apt description of where the author wants to take us. And it does need to be considered ‘a search for Orthodox Spirituality’ as his work is sub-titled because Markides went to Cyprus in search of answers to his personal questions about the Orthodox faith. If you can humbly surrender to being along for an intimate introductory tour, you will enjoy this pilgrimage to/through Orthodoxy. If you’re looking for a heady theological course, however, you will be disappointed by this book.

Returning to the title, I was reminded of John of the Cross’s Ascent of Mount Carmel, the analogy for the soul’s spiritual journey to God. In The Mountain of Silence Markides follows the Orthodox monk, Father Maximos, around from place to place, on a ‘day in the life of a monk’ listening in on many of his conversations with the locals, watching how he interacts with other religious, the faithful and non-believers, both the hostile and ambivalent alike. Markides writes what he sees and hears from his Western analytical perspective and formulates additional questions based on situations which evolve in true travelogue fashion. Father Maximos, formerly from Mount Athos, but sent to Cyprus under obedience, is able to explain to the author—and us—the monastic concept of obedience to one’s superiors against one’s own personal preferences. If Fr. Maximos had his druthers, he would have lived out his life in the peace of Mount Athos. Instead, he was sent to the political, economic, and social upheaval of Cyprus to share the wisdom of Athos with souls living in a spiritually impoverished environment.

There are many stories from this book I would like to share but one stands out in my mind as a particular favorite. It concerns three monks, one junior and two elders. The younger monk was plagued by Logismoi (thought forms) of debauchery and went to his elder for help. His inexperienced elder reprimanded him telling him that such thoughts went against monastic vows and in discouragement, the young monk decided to give up his vocation as monk and return to the city. On his way there he encountered an experienced monk who through great holiness perceived what had happened. He asked, “Where are you going brother?” The young man told him he had given up the monastic life after eight years because he still suffered from lustful thoughts. The elder told him, “I have been a monk now for seventy years and I still have such thoughts. Now go back to your hermitage and God will help you. I will pray for you.” The young monk did as he was told and found he was freed from these temptations. But the wise elder did something else. He looked up, raised his hands and prayed, “Please dear God redirect these temptations toward the elder of this young monk.” Soon after, the wise elder saw the inexperienced elder rushing off on his way to the city. “Where are you going Father?” he asked him in an innocuous-sounding tone. “Oh, don’t ask me don’t ask me,” the other monk replied. “I am leaving for the city. I am pestered with sexual temptations. They are suffocating me. I am not worthy to be a monk.” “Go back to your hermitage Father,” the wise elder told him. “It is God who sent you these thoughts that you might grow in humility and not say things to young monks that could lead them to despair.” *

This little story is just one of dozens of such gems! Even if you only read a page or two, you cannot help but benefit from this book. I will keep this book close to my other spiritual favorites from now on.

*Lest there be any controversy about what Fr. Maximos is actually saying about God's relationship with demons/evil/temptations, please remember the OT story of Job and see the quote attached to this review below.

Written in 2014; revised 2016.

[Michael O'Brien · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this to be yet another fascinating book that has prompted to reexamine my Christian faith in a different way from another point of view. This book is written from the view of a formerly secular journalist interviewing an Orthodox monk, Father Maximos, learning his views on aspects of the Christian walk, monastic life, and asceticism. As a Christian from an Evangelical background, I found this particularly informative and refreshing. From my background, I'd largely been taught that monks such as Father Maximos are fruitlessly in pursuit of salvation by attempting to lives of denial and by doing good works, acting out mindlessly in ritual and superstition. This, it turns out, is a strawman and a caricature for such are not the case. This book shows the process, and, indeed, it's based upon a lifestyle practiced successfully by many great men and women of God throughout history. Aside from this, this book holds valuable knowledge on how Christians can successfully battle temptation ---- and through prayer, fasting, and study can also apply principles in this book to revitalize their Christian walk. Having said that, I did find some of the miracles hard to believe that are attributed to modern Orthodox saints who achieved that highest state of closeness to God, "theosis" --- perhaps, it challenged my own Western Christianity's belief in intellectual wisdom and rationality as means by which to come closer to God. Nevertheless, I did find this a book a thought-provoking read, and do highly recommend it to anyone caught in a spiritual rut, or desiring to learn more about why monks put themselves through the rigors and struggles that they do.

[Nate · Rating 5 out of 5]

Amazing story of one man's series of conversations with a spiritual master from Mt. Athos. Such a rich treasury of Christian truth on how to seek after Christ following the path of saints and martyrs from the time of the apostles until now.

If anyone is interested or has questions about Orthodox spirituality, Fr. Maximos gives a compelling introduction through his conversations with Kyriacos Markides. Easy to read and very interesting.

Makes me want to go to Cyprus and Mt. Athos.

Lots to say about this book. For one, its conversational setup is great, because Markides asks just about every question that anyone, even Protestants would have about Orthodox monasticism. Why be a monk? Don't monks just run away from the real world? etc.

It's amazing to see a Christian tradition that is so extremely Christ-centered and Bible-centered, all grounded in the faith of the first 800 years of Christianity, but with such different foci from Protestants "Bible-believers" who think they are the authority on the faith.

I especially appreciated the practical yet mystical theology of the book. Practical, in that it accurately demonstrated that being a Christian requires discipline and humility in everyday situations; there is no special way of becoming holy other than working your butt off day in and day out using spiritual disciplines. On the other hand, it was also very mystical. In the midst of doubt, darkness, despair, and frustration, God visits us in unexpected ways and reveals parts of himself that one wouldn't have had any way of accessing without hardship and trial.

Having said that, there were times when Markides' secular, modernist, academic background seemed to prevent him from accepting certain ideas in faith. Also, he seemed to do something that I frankly see in too much Orthodox writing -- that is, acting as if the Western tradition of Christianity cannot accept mystery and has over-analyzed everything to the detriment of betraying the faith of the early fathers. I agree that Western Christians do deserve much of this charge, but I also wouldn't want to dismiss the mystical expressions of faith that I find in both Catholic and Protestant traditions.

Anyway, this was still a fascinating book, and I ate it up like good baklava.

[Grace · Rating 5 out of 5]

The most spiritually illuminating and edifying book I have ever read. I cannot describe justly in words how much this book has contributed to my life and my knowledge of God. Every Christian should read this. Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

[Mimi · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is one that I had read when it was first published, but not revisited. Much to say about Christ, Monasteries, and acquiring inner peace and saving thousands. Dovetailed with both The Commemoration of St. Gregory Palamas on Sunday and seeing "The Man of God" last night.

[Stephanie Clark · Rating 4 out of 5]

I never quite understood Eastern Orthodoxy and the Mystical tradition, that is until I read this book. Man, what an amazing insight into this realm of Christianity. Too bad I am female, otherwise I would take a journey to the Mountain of Silence as soon as possible!

[Charles Haywood · Rating 4 out of 5]

In these days of changing ways, so-called liberated days, it is not only political beliefs that are getting a fresh look from a lot of people, but beliefs about all aspects of human life. These include the beliefs of traditional Christians in America, whose options for Christ-centered communal worship within an organized framework narrow every day. The Roman church is both corrupt and led by that man of perdition, Jorge Bergoglio; the degradation of ecclesiastical Protestantism is complete; evangelicals offer only Moralistic Therapeutic Deism or obeisance to Trumpian caesaropapism. This leaves as the last institution standing the Orthodox Church, which shows no signs of trimming its sales to modernism and for whom Saint John Chrysostom might as well as have died yesterday. Hence the recent surge in popularity of this 2001 book, a modern exposition of Orthodox spirituality, written by a man with a foot in both the West and the East.

That man, Kyriacos Markides, is a Greek Cypriot, whose education and academic career (in sociology) were centered in America. As he describes, until the writing of this book his spiritual life had gradually moved from stock Western academic agnosticism to an interest in various forms of mysticism, ending up, at the conclusion of this book, in an ambiguous, but very favorably disposed, relationship with Orthodoxy. Markides also wrote an earlier book, "Riding with the Lion," about the Orthodox monastic communities on Mount Athos, in Greece. Confusingly, this book, whose title refers to Mount Athos, takes places nearly exclusively on Cyprus. Regardless, the form of this book is essentially narrated dialogues between Markides and an Orthodox monk, here called “Father Maximos,” who was sent to Cyprus from Mount Athos in 1993 to form a new monastery (and who is now Bishop of Limassol, the second-largest city in Cyprus). Other people and places appear, and there are travelogue aspects and digressions about the politics of Cyprus, but the core of the book is an ongoing conversation between those two men. The goal of these dialogues is to primarily to narrate and explicate Orthodox spirituality, with heavy emphasis on its mystical aspects.

Through his dialogues with Father Maximos, Markides develops several threads of Orthodox spiritual thought, on their own terms, in relation to Western Christian (that is, for all practical purposes, Roman Catholic) thought, and, to a lesser extent, in relation to non-Christian spirituality and even secular psychology. (Though accurate here, I hesitate to use the term “spiritual,” because it smacks of the odious phrase “spiritual but not religious,” which is code for “stupid.”) The reason that Markides was able to open his mind to Orthodoxy was his prior realization that “materialist superstition had kept Western thought stranded and imprisoned for the last three hundred years”—a realization, though only nascent, that the Enlightenment was far from the unalloyed benefit it is often portrayed. That realization is what makes this book possible; it is neither Orthodox fanboy-ism, or a cloaked attack by a skeptic, but an honest attempt to find the truth.

A substantial part of Markides’s approach is that he identifies up front, and then directly asks Father Maximos to address, problems and questions that are commonly raised in objection to Orthodox or Christian beliefs. These include questions with a practical basis, such as whether monks are wasting their lives, or are self-centered or inward focused when they should be serving their fellow man, or whether abbots psychologically coerce vulnerable individuals to join the monastic life. It’s these questions, in fact, that Markides addresses first. Then he turns to questions about belief, both theology and practice, including ones often asked by Protestants, such as whether icons are idols (that one is easy, but many aren’t). This segues into broader theological questions—ultimately, into the meaning of life. All this is done in dialogue; the author taped his conversations, so presumably they are accurately set forth.

The focus here is on monastic practice, but that is portrayed as merely a more perfect form of the practice to which all Christians are called. While Maximos’s explanations of the reasons for, and the value of, monasticism are best read in their entirety, they revolve around the necessity of some set of people’s “providentially assigned life’s task” to be an “exclusive preoccupation with the reality of God.” It is apprehending and approaching that reality towards which monastic life in Orthodoxy is oriented. Such monastic life is eremitic, more so than communal (though some meals and some worship are typically communal), in the spirit of the early monastics, and is not directed toward external acts of service in the way of some Western monastics. The vast majority of the monk’s day is devoted simply to prayer, especially the Efche (the “Jesus Prayer”), often (but not necessarily) along with some manual labor. Fasting and other forms of periodic self-denial are also important in creating the necessary focus. Collectively, these practices are askesis, the root word of “ascetic,” but here it means spiritual athleticism, not (just) suffering through self-mortification. The repeated message is that such practices, applied to a lesser degree, are the path to holiness and union with God for all people.

In Markides’s telling (I cannot opine myself), Orthodox spirituality does not rely on strict rationality and logic nearly to the degree that Western Christianity does. Thomism, scholasticism and the like, tied to Aristotle, is not so much denigrated as regarded as incomplete (although Father Maximos comes very close to rejecting metaphysics entirely). The ability of certain saintly men and women to directly apprehend the divine, and thereby to benefit and illuminate others, is prized and assumed much more than it would be in Catholicism, where the structures permit and recognize it, but usually not without hesitation. This shows up most clearly in the nearly continuous references by Father Maximos to Elder Paisios, an Athonite monk and wonderworker who died in 1993. But signs and wonders, including such dramatic events as the physical appearance of Christ Himself to individual monks, as well as the appearance of saints in the flesh, and direct physical contact with demons and angels, are held as normal, or at least not infrequent, events in Orthodox monasticism, which (again, in Markides’s telling) has not been infected with Western materialism and skepticism. Markides himself does show some skepticism about the frequency of reported miracles, including querying whether they might be explained by science or hallucinations, but by no means wholesale skepticism.

It’s not just materialism and skepticism that can undermine askesis, though, but also an over-exaltation of knowledge itself. As Father Maximos says, “Spiritual knowledge by itself does not lead us to God. It may in fact push us in the opposite direction. We may succumb to the temptation and fantasize that because we are knowledgeable we are especially favored by God. It could stimulate our pride and vanity.” Speaking from experience, I agree with this—not that I have all that much spiritual knowledge, but I am keenly interested in theology, and too proud of the many books I have on it (though, even worse, part of my pride is in impressing visitors with my books—bad me). Still, as I discuss below, and as Markides also seems to feel, despite the potential pitfalls, I don’t think metaphysics or other forms of rational spiritual knowledge should be denigrated excessively, especially as they relate to society overall.

This all fits within the overriding theme that runs through all Markides’s discussions with Father Maximos, which is theosis—the Orthodox belief that not only is our purpose and goal union with God, but that goal can be approached in this life, and that through it, in this life or the next, the believer can directly partake of the divine, in a form of ecstatic communion. This state is reached not through study, or logical deduction, but by spiritual exercise devoted to reaching total humility and indifference to material things, while also being totally open to God. To reach theosis, both askesis and spiritual guidance are necessary, obtained from the lives of the saints and (ideally) from an elder. (Implicit in this is that self-guidance by reading the Bible in isolation to reach one’s own conclusions, the hallmark of Protestantism, is inadequate and foolish.) Theosis is a superseding goal—as Maximos says, “Christ didn’t come into the world to teach us how to become good fellows, how to behave properly, or how to live a righteous life in this world.” It’s not that those things are bad; rather it is that “the ultimate goal is to become perfect in the same way as our Heavenly Father is perfect, to become one with God.”

Several subthemes also show up repeatedly. One is the importance of overcoming temptations—not merely temptations as traditionally viewed in the West, where we picture Satan on our shoulder, but various troubles and difficulties, as well as good things that may happen, all of which are opportunities for spiritual development requiring an appropriate response. An important category of these is logismoi, assaultive thoughts, defense against which is a matter discussed at considerable length in this book, with successful defense being a critical step in spiritual development, the defense resulting from repentance and humility. Another is the importance not only of personal humility, but of actively seeing the image of God in every other human being, no matter how evil he may act, and of loving that person as a consequence—and even loving demons (“as suffering entities,” despite their evil). A third is that freedom does not consist in following one’s own desires, but being liberated from slavery to passions, and instead subordinating oneself to Christ. This is, of course, the only concept of freedom held in the West prior to the Enlightenment (not always with reference to Christ, naturally, since the ancient Greeks held it), but it has been mostly forgotten in the West, except, it seems, by antiquarians (though my guess is that its time is coming around again). None of these themes is exclusive to Orthodoxy, of course, but the emphasis on them seems much greater than in Western Christianity, or at least modern Western Christianity, of any brand.

It is important to note that in many cases, the Orthodox do not necessarily hold theological positions on which a final position has been reached, both because there is no single authority (other than a council and the approval of the laity) that can finally decide a matter, and because reaching a final decision is regarded as less important than in Catholicism, within certain basic parameters. That said, three theological discussions in this book held special interest for me. The first is the possibility admitted in Orthodoxy, but almost totally denied in Catholicism, of the apocatastasis—the universal reconciliation, in which all humans, or even all created beings, including the Devil, will reach theosis. The Orthodox reject Purgatory, but a mainstream thread of Orthodox thought functionally treats Hell as Purgatory. Markides focuses on it, but it’s hard for me to tell how prominent this line of thought is in Orthodoxy. It’s a lot more prominent than in the Roman Church, though, which mostly rejects it as heresy, although if pressed, some theologians (Hans Urs von Balthasar being the most notable modern example) will admit the possibility.

A second is the idea that the point of Christianity is not to improve this world. Father Maximos has never heard of “liberation theology” (monks are deliberately not up on the news). If he had heard of it, he would be revolted. As Father Maximos tells Markides, “[Christ] was not trying to make this world better and more just. Whatever Christ offered us through the Gospel had a deeper meaning, the salvation of humanity, our eternal restoration within the Kingdom of God.” No doubt, “Christ did go about doing good. . . . But that was not His chief mission for coming into the world.” In the modern world, for the majority of Western Christians, this is the grossest heresy, or would be, if they knew what a heresy was. Certainly, the Presbyterian church my wife and I recently abandoned saw this as their only goal—implementing a left-wing vision of justice, cribbed from Rawls, not Romans. In the words of that church’s new pastor, in the last sermon we heard before our family vomited him and his works out of our mouth, we are required to show that we are Christian to others, and our sole purpose in so doing is to aggressively demonstrate to non-Christians that we “reject theologies of hatred and exclusion”—that is, our chief goal as “Christians” must be to demonstrate our rejection of any form of traditional Christianity. So long, sucker. (I suppose my attitude here towards the pastor shows I am not making much progress on the path to theosis, though.)

A third is the question of whether God wills a reason for all happenings. This seems to me clearly false; I agree strongly with the Orthodox theologian David Bentley Hart, who in his meditation on the 2004 Indonesian tsunami, "The Doors of the Sea," concluded that “God will not unite all of history’s many strands in one great synthesis, but will judge much of history false and damnable; that he will not simply reveal the sublime logic of fallen nature but will strike off the fetters in which creation languishes; and that, rather than showing us how the tears of a small girl suffering in the dark [a reference to a passage from Dostoevsky] were necessary for the building of the Kingdom, he will instead raise her up and wipe away all tears from her eyes—and there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor any more pain, for the former things will have passed away and he that sits upon the throne will say, ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ ” But Father Maximos is just as emphatic that “Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in the Universe without a deeper meaning to it.” I don’t buy it. I could harmonize Hart’s and Father Maximos’s statements, since “deeper meaning” is not the exact same thing as “willed reason,” but I think it would be sophistry—Hart’s and Father Maximos’s seem to be actually opposed opinions, and I am not sure which is closer to the Orthodox mainstream. Regardless, I just can’t stand it when people say “I believe everything happens for a reason.” (It’s especially annoying when said by people who don’t believe in God at all, though. What reason is that then, exactly?) It doesn’t; much of history is false and damnable. This is also part of why theodicy has never seemed like a significant problem to me. God doesn’t owe us anything, and much less does he owe us current happiness. That’s easy for me to say, blessed beyond all words and measure. But it still seems obvious to me.

Anyway, on a more abstract level, and given that much of my thinking nowadays revolves around how, perhaps, the West can be dragged out of its dead end and return to flourishing, and that part of that flourishing relates to purely secular matters, I find the relative approaches of Orthodoxy and Western Christianity illuminating in relation to that goal. I do not think it is a coincidence that the West, rather than the East, created the modern world. By “modern world,” I mean the approach to thinking, and thus to science, that ended in the Scientific Revolution and therefore the Industrial Revolution (to neither of which, of course, the Enlightenment had any relevance at all, so we can peel away the Enlightenment and return to continued material flourishing, or at least that’s my theory). Certainly, the Roman East had less opportunity—under siege from Islam (which itself could never have created the modern world), not to mention it was abused at times by the West (the Orthodox remember the Fourth Crusade, forgotten in the West). But the mystical, otherworldly focus that, at least in this book, strongly characterizes Orthodoxy, and the related downplaying of high rationality and metaphysics, seems to me inherently likely to pinch material advancement. The Western approach has its pitfalls, obviously, among them those outlined by Brad Gregory in The Unintended Reformation. I also often wonder if a truly wealthy society can be a virtuous society at all. Not to mention that many aspects of modern science can be, and are being, used for utterly pernicious purposes, such as transhumanism and better ways of killing infants in the womb, so sometimes I wonder if we’d not all be better off, in the long run, living in the fourth century A.D. In any case, it seems to me that Markides’s analogy of Orthodoxy and Western Christianity as “two lungs,” both contributing air and life, is a good one, and one that might conduce to a real renaissance in both West and East. And, despite Orthodox resentment against and distaste for the Roman Church, a rapprochement among traditional Catholics and the Orthodox is probably a necessary element to fight the forces that would destroy both, so some form of joint action would have both spiritual and secular benefits.

Finally, at the risk of seeming like a curmudgeon, I note (as I often do) that the book isn’t perfect. As probably in any book by a sociologist who likes to deal with shamans, there are irritating parts and odd claims about non-religious matters. The frequent side references to the “eco-peace villages” that Markides’s wife apparently was devoted to, whatever those are, grate (mostly because they sound nonsensical). Markides treats it as something other than ludicrous when someone asks him what penance the monks have done for “having killed millions of women as witches.” You just have to glide over those sections, though, and focus on the words of Father Maximos, to really receive benefit. I suggest you do that, today.

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

Chapter 5

"As a result of long and hard practice the sensibilities of the saints are radically altered. Unlike us, they perceive things around them differently. They see everything and everybody in their true state, permeated by God. Everybody is perceived as being within Providence. Therefore, for a real saint nothing is apprehended as really hostile. That is the reason the saints have absolutely no fears."

"...Whenever you meet someone on your way, in reality you meet God. And as you honor God you must honor the other because you have in front of you the presence of God. You don't turn the other way to avoid someone you don't like." "One day old Paisios [a wise elder of Mount Athos:] was visited in his remote hermitage by a group of five obnoxious young men, full of pride and arrogance. He patiently spent several hours showing them extra attention. But a theology teacher who was present became irritable and impatient. 'How could you tolerate them?' he asked him. And the elder replied, 'Have you ever wondered how God could tolerate you?'"

"It is when human beings learn how to have patience with the many and unavoidable sorrows that they will encounter life."

"Learn how to accept sorrows as divine gifts, including personal failures." "In the book of Revelation, the saints are referred to as 'those who have passed through great sorrows.' " "...Sorrow is an unavoidable part of life regardless of when and where you live. It is an integral aspect of human existence." "When I say sorrow, it does not mean that we celebrate suffering as if it is something to cherish and pursue. Rather, to the extent that suffering is unavoidable, accept it as a gift from Heaven."

[Pishowi · Rating 5 out of 5]

A highly readable narrative of Eastern Orthodox Christian mysticism as practiced in our modern time. The author, himself an Orthodox Christian of Cypriot heritage, gives a knowledgeable and sympathetic portrayal of the subject while also remaining sympathetic to the philosophical and scientific methods of the West. This is an excellent book for those who have hope that the "way of the mind" and the "way of the heart" is not necessarily a choice of "either or."

[Michaelo El Grando · Rating 5 out of 5]

After having read several books dealing with theoretical orthodox theology, I began to feel a hunger for a book that shows how orthodox spirituality manifests itself in practice. I was yearning for something similarly edifying and inspirational as the Russian tale called "The Way of a Pilgrim" and so hereby I could say that in this book I've found what I had been looking for and gained some additional profound insights into the eastern Christian spiritual tradition.

Written by an ethnic Greek Cypriot Professor of Sociology who emigrated to the United States after the political conflicts that ravaged Cyprus during the 1970s, we are taken along his journey of rediscovering the mystical spiritual tradition of Orthodox Christianity. The story is set in Cyprus during the 90s and is written in the form of a travelogue which documents the authors observations of monastery life and dialogues with the spiritual elder Father Maximos who was a monk on Mount Athos for many years and a close student of the famous Saint Paisios.

I was able to identify myself a lot with the professor Markides' background since he went through a similar spiritual journey as myself in regards to his exploration of far-eastern mysticism, meditation, esotericism, and so on before discovering the deep mystical tradition that can be found within Christianity, especially within Orthodoxy. The author argues that many westerners have largely overlooked the profound spirituality and wisdom that has been preserved by the monks on Mount Athos, which the author likens to a "Christian Tibet". Given that the author is well acquainted with the practices of Transcendental Meditation as well as with some of the biggest names of the New Age spiritual movement like Helena Blavatsky, Alan Watts, Jiddu Krishnamurti, etc., it was even more interesting to hear about his discovery of orthodox spirituality.

Professor Markides himself seems to be a rather sceptical inquirer into the orthodox way of life rather than a fully convinced believer. I actually appreciated this fact since he often confronts the elder Father Maximos with many critical questions about the religion throughout the whole account. Many of those questions were actually quite relevant to me since I've been personally having them as well at the beginning of Christian walk. I really appreciated with what kind of wisdom and compassion Father Maximos would answer those questions by giving explanations which really made me think and reflect.

This is why I found it particularly interesting to read these dialogues since they also present us an interaction between two almost opposed viewpoints, namely a secular rationalist-empirical academic thinking and a Christian mysticism which is rather based on a more intuitive and spiritual approach to the mysteries of God, reality and metaphysics. In the eastern spiritual approach, more emphasis is put on experiencing God's grace with one's heart rather than with one's mind and without having to overly rely on the rationalistic principles of the intellect.

"Well, as long we do not know God experientially then we should at least realize that we are simply ideological believers [...] The ideal and ultimate form of true faith means having direct experience of God as a living reality."

The western school of thought has followed a more rationalistic approach to theology, primarily based on Aristotelian logic and which is evident during the period of scholasticism, following the church schism in 1054 AD. The author argues that it's due to this development that western Christianity has divorced itself from its more mystical eastern roots and thereby developing a rather dry theology based on head-knowledge rather than on the heart's faculties of discerning spiritual truths and knowing God.

Most likely has this development in Western thought led to our modern western secular thinking which is largely limited to a materialistic perspective of life, which excludes the possibility of there being a higher reality. I believe this is also why people in the West often seem to have this spiritual hunger for something deeper and therefore begin to look for guidance and meaning in buddhism, hinduism, tantra, etc.

Finally I could say, that within this book I found some really precious practical spiritual advice on how to deal with intrusive thoughts and behaviour which hinder us from being receptive to God's grace.

Towards the end of the book, author Markides summarizes the stages of an indiviudual's spiritual development according to the Orthodox tradition quite well; "The soul's journey toward God, [...] must go through three identifiable and distinct stages. At first there is the stage of Catharsis, or the purification of the soul from egotistical passions. It is then followed by the stage of Fotisis, or the enlightenment of the soul, a gift of the Holy Spirit once the soul has undergone its purification. Finally comes the stage of Theosis, union with God, as the final destination and ultimate home of the human soul. The last two stages are impossible to attain without having the soul first pass through the fires of catharsis from egotistical passions."

All in all, another beautiful book I highly recommend to any spiritual seeker desiring to find the Truth in this mad world...

[Hayden Reed · Rating 3 out of 5]

5 stars for Fr. Maximos, only 1.5 for Kyriacos. This book would be much more concise and enjoyable without the constant (slightly haughty) interjections from the author.

While considering the weak points and downright shortcomings of the Western (rational and logical) mindset, Kyriacos still manages to flash his own Western training and viewpoint like a badge of authenticity.

Either way, Fr. Maximos is a man of deep wisdom and undoubtedly deep patience as well for having endured the slew of somewhat combative interview questions from the author.

[Sandy Amgad · Rating 5 out of 5]

من افضل الكتب اللي ممكن اكون قريتها ان لم يكن الافضل..
هفتقد جدا المناقشات المُطوّاله بين كيرياكوس و اسئلته للاب مكسيموس اللي رغم كترها الى انها بتكون جزء من تفكيرك و انت بتقرا و بتستمتع بوجودها و طريقه القائها من كيرياكو للاب مكسيموس، والاب مكسيموس اللي كان بيتميز بكلام عميق جدا و يحمل داخله الاف المعاني و لكن بسيط في وصوله للقلب و وضوح هدفه .. هتاخد لمحه تاريخيه و ثقافيه عن جبل اثوس.. او ما يُعرف يأسم جبل الصمت...و عن النشقاقات الكنسيه ..رغم انها مش من محاور الكتاب الا انها ذُكرت بتفاصيل من كل وجهات النظر.. لكن المُلهم هى حياة النساك و القصص في جبل الصمت......
و تستمتع بكل كلمه و كل اقتباس و كل قصه و كل روايه و القصص غير المُنتهيه عن الشيخ پاييسوس و الشيخ صُفرونيوس و أفرام و الاخ اسطفانوس ...
كل فصل من عمقه ممكن يتعمل كتاب وحده..اعتقد الكتاب حاول يشمل كل محاور الارثوذكسيه الحقيقيه.. من معرفة الله لامراض القلب ل فصول كتيره و يختمها بفصول حقيقيه عن الحياه العمليه و مش للنساك فقط لكن لاجميع و القوانين الروحيه و الاستراتيچيات و اهميه و فاعليه الصلاة ...
و اعتقد من افضل الحاجات في الكتاب صراحته و وضوحه..
ان كان باعتراف الاب مكسيموس بعدم معرفته ببعض النقاط و انه يقبل يسمعه.. حتى في ذكره للظهورات الالهيه كان بيذكر ان الجميع ضل لكن الله كان بيرشد و مازال...بتواضع و حكمه عظيمه وضح افكار مفتقيدنها جدا في وقتنا الحالي
اعتقد لو فكرت استرجع اقتباسات من الكتاب..هتكون اكتر من عدد صفحاته.. و مقدرتش اقرى جمله و اقول انها الافضل في الكتاب ده..او في الفصل ده او حتى الصفحه دي..من عمق و تركيز كل كلمه في مكانها و المحور اللي بتدور حوله...و دى قله قليله من الطف الاجزاء ..الا ان الكتاب فيه اكتر و اعمق من اني احصر مجمله في شويه جمل..

-فكَّر في الأمر فقط من هذا النحو : ذكرنا المسيح أن الله يعتني بطيور السماء وبكل ورقة عشب على الأرض . أيعقل ألا يعتني بنا ؟ إن كانت كل شعرة على رأسنا هي ضمن عناية الله ، فكم بالحري ما يختص بأمور جدية في حياتنا ؟ إن رسَّخنا هذا في ذهننا كإيمان عميق ، إذا ، لم اليأس ؟ حتى وإن كانت الأحزان التي نختبرها ناتجة عن خطايانا ، فبالصبر نحولها إلى فوائد روحية . الله يملك الترياق ليحول ما اقترفناه من شر إلى صلاح . قد تسأل ، لماذا ؟ لأن الله لا يبلغ نهايات مسدودة ، الله لا يُهزم . كذلك ، شرور الإنسان لا تغلب حكمة الله غير المتناهية ، حتى الشرور التي يرتكبها أفظع المجرمين ، لا تغلب محبة الله

- النعمه هي عنصر أساسي . ولكن بلوغ تلك المرحلة ليس أمرا سهلا . بلوغ الصلاة لأعماق النفس يستدعي جهادا روحيا مثابرا ودائما . وما إن نبلغ هذا ، نستنير ونُعطى موهبة الحكمة . في تلك المرحلة ، تتفعل مفاهية مختلفة متخطية كل منطق وفكر عقلاني . في الحقيقة ، إنها توجه المنطق ، كونها أرفع منه ، ومن يبلغ تلك الحالة الذهنية ، لا يحكم على أي أمر إلا بعد أن يفحصه بالصلاة . وإن تلقى أثناء الصلاة رسالة تتناقض والمنطق ، فسيطيع الرسالة الأتية رغم ما يمليه المنطق التقليدي .
" حقا ، یا کیریاکوس ، حالما تهيم روح صلاة الرب يسوع على القلب ، عند ذلك فقط يشفي الإنسان في أعماق كيانه ، إذاك ،يكون لهب الله قد اشتعلةفي قلبه "
"ان ركزت على الصلاه لا تهم دوافعك حتى ان لم تكن نواياك مثاليه،مع الوقت،ممارسه الصلاة بأنتظام ستجعل نوياك كامله ، ما يحدث هو ان صلاة يسوع تعلمك.كيف تصلي . صلِ و الله سيهتم بالباقي...سيقودك اليه عبر الصلاه.

-أعتقد أننا كلنا ، عاجلا أم آجلا ، سنختبر حالة اليأس الروحي ، لكن كل حسب طاقته وقواه . ليترأف الله بنا فنجتاز هذا الاختبار مرة واحدة في حياتنا . لا أعتقد أنه في وسع أي إنسان احتمال ثقل هذا الاختبار مرتين . لكن حسبما أخبرني شيوخي ، يجب أن نعبر جميعنا في هذا الاختبار ، في حالة اليأس والإعياء الكامل هذه ، قبل اتحادنا مع الله..

- التواضع هو أعظم الفضائل و يشملها كلها ..وحده التواضع له قوة جذب النعمة الالهيه الي روح الانسان. التواضع يحصن الانسان من الغضب و يجعله عاجرا عن أغضاب احد.


......

[Urmo Treisalt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lummav pilguheit õigeusu vaimsusse ja Áthose kloostritraditsiooni erakordsesse pärandisse. Oluline lugemine igaühele, kes soovib tutvuda idakiriku õpetusega, kristliku müstikaga ja munkluse olemusega ning vabaneda nüüdisajal kristluse ja kloostrieluga seotud eelarvamustest.

[Justin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is one of my all-time favorites. So many things to learn from it as well as being easy to read. I particularly like the accounts of miracles.

[Diana Maria · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent!!!!!!!

[Dan Hansen · Rating 4 out of 5]

A bit personal memoir and quest, a bit homecoming, a bit travel log, and a clear exposition of Eastern Orthodox asceticism. I knew little of Orthodox theology before Markides introduces the monk Father Maximos but by the end I found myself musing on The Threefold Path of Catharsis (purging the egotistical passions), Fotisis (a state of purification and miracles), and Theosis (union with God).

The central tenet is that life is a form of "askesis" - that sorrow and suffering is an integral aspect of human existence and that the Ecclesia (the sum total of the teachings and practices of the church) is the way to achieve purification and - ultimately - conscious union with God.

It strikes me how many doctrines begin with the observation that built into life is much suffering and sorrow. The buddhist religion is the most obvious example but we find it as well in Western psychology. Philosophically we find it buried deep in the notion of existential despair.

I suppose this has something to do with our understanding of our mortality but I suspect it has even more to do with the observation that "pain will not be ignored". Doubt as you will, pain will insert itself into your thought. Sickness is Selfish, and Pain does not care if you doubt its existential validity - it will assert itself regardless of your assertions one way or the other.

As such it is a very good peg on which to hang your ontological hat.

So this Catharsis is a vital step to achieving holiness and much of the ascetic lifestyle is dedicated to this Catharsis.

The end game of Theosis is much more optimistic - the conscious union with God. Markides believes that Eastern Orthodox Christianity is fundamentally different than the Eastern faiths. One does not lose one's personal identity but rather that identity is at home with the deity.

Given that I am simply writing a quick review of the book, I don't feel any real need to be critical (or for that matter supportive) of the doctrines expressed in it. As a child of the rational Enlightenment I am disinclined to accept transcendental doctrines (miraculous events) but on the other hand being versed in Humean skepticism and the Kantian critique that it would be absurd to think that the universe would be limited to what we as humans can think and feel, it must give me pause. I do not reject transcendentalism out of hand.

My current inclination is to be skeptical of the value of asceticism while being respectful of ascetics, and to disregard parapsychology while remaining open to the possibility of the transcendental experience.

I am not a big fan of the notion of Original Sin in all of its various forms. It seems clear to me that we humans have great capacity for malevolence and that some of this comes "baked in" as part of the deep history of the evolutionary development of our social behavior, but I don't think we come with a moral taint upon our souls simply by being. So it is unclear to me what is meant when Maximos says that we must approach God in humility and awareness of our unworthiness and sinfulness. If it means simply recognizing our capacity for evil then I'm on board but if it implies some inherent immorality then I'm off the bus.

The book does further cement an opinion that I've been developing over the years, namely that the modern sociologist is a type of theologian and activist rather than a scientist.

And that's that.

[Ali M · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the first book I have read as a part of my exploration of Eastern Orthodox Christianity. With the benefit of hindsight it feels like my path has been leading me to this point for some time, but the immediate impetus for making the leap was a change in pastor at the Presbyterian Church our family has been attending for the last few years. I want my church to be a bulwark against the tide of modernity. I want the timelessness and universal applicability of the gospel. I want the promise of eternity. I want Christ. Instead of providing a fortified island of faith the church we attended was a mirror of society, offering me the world and nothing beyond. I was offered entertainment and platitudes. Church attendance should be a comfort, a place of spiritual growth and healing and not an hour passed in tension as I await to see what objectionable political stance my pastor is going to espouse in the name of God. Not that God was much in evidence. Now that I have experienced Christ in the Divine Liturgy at an Orthodox Church I would go so far as to say that God was almost wholly absent. The Orthodox Church as it is described in The Mountain of Silence seemed to be offering me all that I was looking for. It has the extra appeal of being the closest thing we have to the “original” church, and while I have learned in subsequent readings that the Orthodox Church is far from perfect, the fact that it hews so closely to what was intended by the apostles makes up for that.

Reading The Mountain of Silence opened up the possibility of a religious life that I honestly did not know existed. I see people skitter from one new thing to the next, looking for answers and looking for meaning, so I know I am not alone in my ignorance. The Orthodox Church offers what it has always offered, a path of mystical illumination and ultimate union with God. I think this is what we all yearn for even if we cannot name it. Markides points out that here in the west we view reality through a prism of science and reason, what he refers to as the “eye of the senses” (empirical science) and the “eye of reason” (philosophy, logic, mathematics) and that because we believe we have gained mastery over the physical world, we reject the third way, the “eye of contemplation.” It is this third way, a way of the heart essentially, that I did not realize I was missing. The teachings, practice and experience of the elders of the Orthodox Church show us that with a disciplined spiritual practice we can open up the intuitive and spiritual faculties of the self and bring ourselves closer to God. Indeed, the monks of Mount Athos have dedicated their lives to this. And there is the rub. It takes dedication. It takes work. The Orthodox Church and God asks something of us. It requires sacrifice and discipline and subordination of the self. In a discussion with Father Maximos, Markides says “For ordinary people, freedom is often equated with the ability to satisfy one’s desires and yearnings… In general it means to pursue happiness as one imagines it for oneself.” I believe the cult of the self in the West is a source of much misery. Indeed, Markides adds, “Your notion of freedom, it seems to me is radically different. It is to go beyond all these very desires.” Father Maximos responds, “Exactly. It is these desires that keep us enslaved to this world of transience. So, what ordinary people consider freedom may be in reality a form of slavery, but unrecognized as such.”

The idea that we would sacrifice our desires or idea of individual truth is anathema to most people living in the modern world. The intolerance of such a notion! Reading The Mountain of Silence, however, I was struck with a how wonderfully forgiving and indeed tolerant, the Orthodox Church is. There is a keen recognition that we are all fallen and that we all sin and that we need to work hard to master ourselves on our path to God. That path is unique to each and every one of us and we cannot compare our spiritual practices with each other. We can encourage each other along the way. We can be guided by a spiritual elder. We can obey. We can seek forgiveness. We cannot, however, expect support for a continuation of sin or destructive behaviors. This is not a popular view nowadays unfortunately. But reading the wise words of Father Maximos and Elder Paisos in this book, the rejection of such a selfish way of life becomes an easy choice. The Orthodox Church becomes an easy and obvious choice.

I am grateful to Kyriacos Markides for detailing his spiritual journey that has sent me on my own.

[Geoff Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kyriacos Markides, a professor of sociology, spent several years studying mysticism and shamanistic practices in several monastic type communities. He’s written several books on these topics, this particular book is about his experiences with Father Maximos on Mt. Athos.

This book was recommended to me by O_Vivliothikarios on Twitter.

The Bad

The only bad thing about this book is that the kindle edition has no links to endnote content. This will likely change in an update.

One thing that is only relatively bad is that if you are familiar with church history or read the ancient fathers with any degree of thoroughness, many of the ideas that the book portrays as unknown or ignored will already be very familiar to you. But this is not really a flaw because the ideas were new to the author and will be new to 99% of the readers.

The Good

The narrative is engrossing. You want to know more about Mt. Athos, Markides, and Father Maxime the whole time.

The book also offers a great deal of spiritual counsel that, perhaps, many Christians, especially protestants, would be unfamiliar with. In the book you also get off the cuff answers to long standing theological problems and because they’ve rolled off the tongue of a theologians and mystic, the answers are fresh and memorable.

The best chapters are five, ten, and twelve through fifteen. Chapter ten is especially helpful as it discusses the monastic strategies for overcoming logismoi which is the Greek word for thoughts, but it came to mean much more. The most intriguing notion in this chapter is that prayer should not be used, in the moment, to overcome temptation. The reasoning is that it undermines the need for self-mastery, rational interpretation of our inner state, and a sort of resignation to external forces. More on that, here.

It’s worth mentioning the five stages of a logismos (124-130):[1]

Assault – a thought enters the mind urging us to commit a specific sin. The best council is to literally ignore it or distract yourself. This is similar to Martin Seligman’s techniques.
Interaction – at this stage the disciple interacts with the logismos, trying to reason with it, and perhaps entertains the possibility that it’s a good idea. This is not yet sin.
Consent – This is, as it sounds, consenting to commit the act. This is sin, but not yet the same kind of sin as actually committing the act. The book has a great illustration of this principle.
Captivity – This is when one succumbs to the logismos, puts it into practice, and therefore makes committing it easier next time. Think of it like driving a trail and creating wheel ruts.
Passion – Finally, the action becomes an entrenched part of the personality that is difficult to part with and destructive to the self and to others.
The book is filled with other gems of this sort like the threefold path: catharsis, photis, and theosis, the strategies for overcoming sin, and nature of ceaseless prayer.

There are also some theological oddities in the book, especially in the chapter ‘Escape from Hell,’ but the certainly provide grist for the mill.

Conclusion

I highly recommend this book to anybody who wishes to understand ancient Christian spirituality, how to overcome temptation, or the Eastern churches. The biggest problem with the book is that some of the speculative theology might be confusing to new believers, but the fact of the matter is that the Bible itself is confusing, so it’s no big deal in the long run.

Footnotes

[1] It’s worth noting that Father Maximos’ discussion of the stages is has one less stage than the stages outlined in the glossary of the Philokalia.

[Krista Esta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kaks meest. Kaks erinevat maailma. Küproselt pärit USA sotsioloogiadoktor Kyriacos Markides ja isa Maximos. Markides, intellektuaal, õigeusu taustaga endine ateist, agnostik, aastaid idamaiseid praktikaid harrastanud läänemaailma esindaja ning isa Maximos, õigeusu munk, idakiriku esindaja, lihtne jumalamees. Markides võtab oma eelarvamused enne Athose saarele minekut kokku nii: “Peale rumalate munkade ei lootnud ma sealt midagi leida.” Sellest kohtumisest kasvas välja “Vaikuse mäe” raamat, mis koosneb autori vestlustest isa Maximosega, avades meie ees idakiriku ajaloo, kloostrikultuuri ning kristluse olemuse ja kristluse põhitõed laiemalt ning hoopis teistsuguse pilgu läbi, kui me ehk harjunud oleme.
Õigeusu maailmaga ma väga kursis ei ole, seetõttu oli minu jaoks huvitav kloostrikultuuri ja munkade elu puudutav osa - läänekristluses on see suhteliselt võõras teema ning sageli kantud igorantsusest tulenevast üleolevusest.
Raamatu tuumaks on isa Maximose tõlgendused Jeesuse tähendamissõnadest, palvest, alandlikkusest, jumalakogemusest, vabadusest, patust ehk kokkuvõtvalt kristlik elu ja jumalasuhe. Kuigi teemad on sügavad, ei ole see raske lugemine, küll aga nõuab süvenemist ja tähelepanu, täit kohalolu. Raamatut on nimetatud “silmiavavaks” - nõustun täielikult. Ei, see ei pööranud mu enda arusaamisi pea peale, kuid andis juurde laiemat vaadet inimliku ja jumaliku maailma teemadesse.

[Conor · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an incredible book. Written by a University of Maine sociologist who grew up Orthodox in Cyprus but then fell away from his faith, this book is part travelogue (I've heard someone else describe it as that), spiritual journal, and introduction to Orthodox spiritually. It reads beautifully and one can sense the author's deep love for his spiritual guide, Fr. Maximos, and his deep respect for the religious experience. He writes of miracles with great credulity and in a way that makes them credible to the reader. Markides was a skeptic but he has obviously experienced something real, true and beautiful and he conveys that wonderfully.

For me, a Catholic, this was a real window into the differences between Eastern and Western Christianity. I think this book also will be helpful for my own prayer life. My only criticism (and this is small) is that Christ sometimes seems to be in the background and the method of prayer takes precedence. Now Markides and Fr. Maximos are clear that it is God who graces one with the mystical experiences described in the book, but if one is not careful, one can begin to think that simply by using the method of the monks of Mt. Athos and Cyprus one will reach the heights that many of the spiritual elders described in the book reached.

But do yourself a favor and read this great book.

[Patrick Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

Highly recommended! I read this while a Protestant to learn about the Orthodox Church. The Mountain of Silence is about a Cyprian-American who goes back to his homeland of Cyprus and learns about the Orthodox Faith in discussion with a Bishop whom he calls "Maximos". This is all related in a narrative/story style with dialog in various setting occuring between the author and Maximos so it makes it interesting to read - it is like sitting next to them and listening to their conversation. In the conversation, Bishop Maximos talks about the purpose of the Church (a place of healing, like a hospital), sin, humanity, salvation and other topics. If you are searching for a deeper meaning in your Christian walk, I would highly recommend this book (whether you are Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox or none of the above and just searching). For me personally, this helped to whet my appetite for a Christianity that went beyond the intellect and could be a way of life and the true transforming agent that Christianity was always meant to actually be. If you like theology and are looking for the theology and practices of the Ancient Church, then this is a good book to read.

[Franklin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read Mountain of Silence. This is a wonderful book, dare I say, a classic read in Eastern Christian Spirituality. It is very genuine and Markides isn't afraid to voice his doubts and to push back in his discussions with Fr Maximos. What he finds, though, is the world opening up in mystery and wonder before him, causing his scientific sociological and materialist worldview to vanish like mist before the rising sun. Listening to Fr Maximos, one discovers what it means to purify the heart that one may see God. What remains, though, is to do it - to live what he is saying. But that is the struggle, isn't it. He speaks of the struggle of allowing Christ to be formed in us, in God's Church, and not without God's Church. I would find it difficult to believe that anyone could read this book and remain unchanged by the Holy Spirit. If you are deep in the struggle of the hand to hand combat of daily living in Christ, then I think you will find encouragement here. The wells revealed here are ancient, deep, cool and refreshing to a heart cheated and worn down by the performance oriented shallow wells of popular Evangelical Churchianity and the empty wells of American consumerist materialism.

[Carol · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a wonderful book. It was so good, I'm going to read it again....but even more slowly next time so I can digest it even more. I absolutely loved the conversations the author has with Father Maximos! His thoughts on prayer, icons, marriage, and growing towards communion with God are so uplifiting and encouraging. It defintily left me with a different perspective on many things.

[Jack Hayne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really a great introduction to Eastern Orthodoxy. I have some knowledge after reading The Desert Fathers, The Way of the Pilgrim, and stumbling upon the official hagiography of St. Paiosis.

Markides does a wonderful job outlining everything from the spiritual foundations to the purpose of monasticism within Eastern Orthodoxy. Particular enjoyed the teaching on fending off logiosimio! Very interesting and helpful. Really appreciate the mental prayer of the East.

The only criticism is the sociologist who just says Western theologians haven’t thought about this. Nonsense. Also, I wish the injustices of the Eastern Church would have been, at least, mentioned. After all, they believe they are the only true church. Something lacking from the volume.

Otherwise, a great introduction from a Sociologist who went native in the best way.

93% Can’t We Give the East a Chance?

[Elizabeth · Rating 4 out of 5]

First off, I think this book is more of a 4.5 than a 4. It was engagingly written and full of excellent and compelling anecdotes about the spiritual life as well as explanations for many aspects of the monastic life and the Orthodox faith. As a student I really enjoyed the authors academic approach but also his openness to the spiritual side of things. I did find some of the author’s conclusions to be a bit speculative, which I wasn’t the biggest fan of as someone fairly knew to religious study, but I did find the points he brought up interesting to think about. This book was well written and opened up a lot of aspects of Orthodoxy that I had not previously understood. An interesting read!

[Jackson Swain · Rating 5 out of 5]

Plenty of books contain first-hand accounts of conversations with spiritual elders, but what set this book apart for me was the memoir/travelogue-like narrative. The book was extremely readable and accessible, and I genuinely didn’t want it to end. I also appreciated the author’s honesty about his own hesitations with eastern Christian spirituality. Although I occasionally raised an eyebrow at his interpretations, his sincerity really endeared me to his spiritual journey. Great book!

[Dominic · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was mostly all right until I got to the "Escape From Hell" chapter. The author posits that the heretical theory of "apokatastesis" (Satan, his demons, and damned souls will be saved in the end) is more likely than "medieval hell-and-damnation-theology" (his words) despite this so-called "hell and damnation" theology being explicit in the Gospels and throughout Scripture (Cf. Mt 7: 13-14, Mt 22: 1-14, etc.). This deflated any motivation I had to finish the book.

[othryswhisper · Rating 4 out of 5]

Im not very familiar with orthodoxy that’s why I found this book quit interesting.
Mount Athos is fascinating and truly outer worldly with is spiritual wisdom.
I liked the sceptical approach of the author even though it sometimes put me off while reading.
I also don’t agree with all of his views.The most interesting parts where the dialogues with Father Maximos about athonite spirituality and the meaning of life.

[Hannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn't mind the text that focused on Father Maximos' dialogue--in the very least it was educational and interesting to hear someone who believes very deeply in his faith try to rationalize it, communicate it to other believers and skeptics, and use it as the framework for viewing every other aspect of life. Lots of interesting detail about monasticism, Christian mysticism, and the political situation in Cyprus. Markides does a good job of keeping the topics germane to the layperson and his style of interrogation (though sometimes a little obviously derivative of Greek philosophical texts that involve stylized question/response between student and master) keeps things lively.

But Markides can be very annoying (after reading this, I'm down with the anthropologists who make fun of sociologists). Markides obviously thinks that he is, at times, testing Maximos' understanding or viewpoint through his academic prowess or his semi-secular background...yet there are rarely, if ever, any real challenges or questions that move Maximos beyond ready answers. Perhaps those were the limitations the author had to work with in order to be accepted by the community...but it makes things very postcard-ish. More importantly, Markides' attempts to rationalize his personal religious choices academically and intellectually tended to create (rather than eliminate) problem areas for talking about belief. Based on other evidence, Markides' blissful historical narratives sometimes seem a little naive about the political role of the EO church, and (again with the easy answers) face-value is not the calling card of a true critical thinker (or thinker at all).

[Lucy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is such a beautiful book.

If you have ever had the fortune to get guidance from an experienced Christian, you know they have a precious treasure of knowledge.

This is basically what this book is. There is good pragmatic advice in here, and heart touching stories.

Now, I don't know if Kyriakos the author has the right ideas about everything. For instance, he says things which sound kind of universalist to me. However, he seems to be intellectually honest. It doesn't seem like he is trying to put his personal views into the mouths of the monks.

This book was hard to read. This is because so much is crammed in there. A lot of history, philosophy, theology, anecdotes, biographical/travel/political context. And of course the spiritual practices "askesis". So it took me a long time to finish but I think it's worth it.

The best bits imo are the stories about the saints like Saint Paisios, the direct quotes and advice from Maximos, and the emphasis on humility and repentance.

There are some reviews which make the criticism that there is not enough emphasis on Jesus and more the spiritual practice and mysticism. Perhaps from the author, who has come from a secular and academic background, but this doesn't seem to be true of the monks and elders who are quoted. I mean, their favourite prayer is the Jesus prayer.

I really think there is so much goodness in sharing these stories so they can help others know God better.