A series of meditations entitled the Good Samaritans? is open at
http://newsamaritans.blogspot.com/

And above all other things, in this matter of conversing with thy neighbour, keep silence as much as thou canst, and then shalt thou see that by so doing thou shalt in short time be troubled with little press or company that would come to hinder thy devotions. This is my opinion herein; do thou better if thou canst. (John Climacus)

In listening to our neighbor we continue our devotions.

With you truly hearing, they are more likely to be healed.

In health they will give more time to their own devotions...

Until you are in need of their listening,

When in devotion to God and each other, we join in the sacrament of listening for the word of God.

If it be another man that cometh to give thee his alms, or else for to hear thee speak, or to be taught by thee, speak gently and humbly to them all, reprove no man for his faults, for that belongeth not to thee, unless he be the more homely or familiar with thee, that thou knowest that he will take it well from thee. And to be short in this matter of thy telling of another of his faults, I say, that when thou conceivest that it will do him good (namely, in his soul) thou mayest tell him thy mind, if thou hast opportunity, and if he is likely to take it well. (John Climacus)

"Reprove no man for his faults."

Fault-finding is not the purpose of our relationship.

Teaching - and especially spiritual teaching - can too often focus on what is deficient.

It is almost always more productive to attend to and enhance what is already strong.

Praise God, praise your neighbor, even find cause to honestly praise yourself. The abundance that God has given will, if allowed, fill any deficit.

If it be another man that cometh to teach thee, as some Churchman, etc., hear him humbly, and with reverence to his order; and if his speeches comfort thee, ask of him more what thou needest, and take not upon thee to teach him, for it falleth not to thy share to teach a priest, but in case of necessity. If his speech comfort thee or profit thee not, answer little, and he will soon take his leave. (John Climacus)

If I was observing this rule, many of these morning meditations would have even less to them.

Climacus does not always comfort me. But with questions and engagement his writings do profit me.

The issue, I expect, is to discern teaching from self-assertion.

Teaching can be an ego-inflating task. It is easy for a teacher to divert from teaching into bloviating.

Any question or even feigned interest will further inflate the bloviator... and distract us from more fruitful tasks.

If thou canst love thy neighbour well, to speak with thy neighbour with discretion shall be no hindrance to thee. Discretion shalt thou have on this manner as me thinketh; Whoso cometh to thee, ask him meekly what he would have; and if he come to tell thee his disease or trouble and to be comforted by thy speech, hear him gladly, and suffer him to say what he will, for ease of his own heart; and when he hath done, comfort him if thou canst, gladly, gently and charitably, and soon break off. And then, after that, if he will fall into idle tales, or vanities of the world, or of other men’s actions, answer him but little, and feed not his speech, and he will soon be weary, and quickly take his leave. (John Climacus)

A bartender or barber could also benefit from this advice.

Often we just need someone to listen.

To be heard, whatever else, may ease our own heart.

No further comfort may be possible but the listening.

But in being heard - without judgment or impatience - we may also be healed.

And though thou be at prayer, or at thy devotions, that thou thinkest loth to break off, for that thou thinkest that thou oughtest not leave God for to speak with anyone, I think not so in this case, for if thou be wise thou shalt not leave God, but thou shalt find Him, and have Him, and see Him, in thy neighbour, as well as in prayer, only in another manner. (John Climacus)

If we would find ourselves, we will engage others.

If we would know God, we will open ourselves to others.

If we would ask for God's blessing, we will ask our neighbors what they need.

Prayer is listening for God, we can begin by listening to our neighbor.

Worship is serving God, we can begin by serving our neighbor.

"I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:40)

And since it is so that thou oughtest not to go out of thy house to seek occasion how thou mightest profit thy neighbour by deeds of charity, because thou art enclosed; nevertheless thou art bound to love all men in thy heart, and to show some tokens of true love to them that come to thee. And therefore, whoso will speak with thee, whatsoever he be, or of what degree soever, though thou knowest not what he is, nor why he cometh, yet be thou soon ready with a good will to ask what his will is, be not dainty, nor suffer him long to wait for thee, but look how ready and how glad thou wouldst be if an angel of heaven should come and speak with thee, so ready and so buxom be thou in will for to speak with thy neighbour when he cometh to thee, for thou knowest not what he is, nor why he cometh, nor what need he hath of thee, or thou of him, till thou hast tried. (John Climacus)

There is a person who lives far away who makes a considerable effort to visit at least once a year.

The prospect of this visit -- only a few days -- causes some consternation in our house.

I have never determined if the visitor lacks self-awareness or, instead, is so self-centered s/he has no skill is perceiving others. In any case it is almost always an awkward and difficult few days.

Yet the visit is always rich in experiencing the mystery of relationship with one another and with God.

We are not glad to have the visitor, but in scripture angels usually arrive when trouble is afoot and give us insights difficult to fully discern.

But thou wilt say again, that thou canst not keep from hearing of vanities, for divers, both those that live in the world and others, come oft to speak with thee, and tell thee some tales of vanity. As unto this I say thus, that thy communing with thy neighbour is not much hurt to thee, but helpeth thee sometimes, if thou order thy business wisely; for that thou mayest try and find out thereby the measure of thy charity to thy neighbour, whether it be much or little. Thou art bounden (as all other men and women are) to love thy neighbour principally in thy heart, and also in deeds to show him tokens of charity, as reason asketh, according to thy might and knowledge. (John Climacus)

Climacus is not writing for me, he is writing for monastics of the late classical era.

These men had freely chosen a particularly disciplined path for spiritual growth. Yet even they had trouble avoiding vain, superficial, and spiritually stunted talk.

We are drowning in it.

Somehow our culture has developed a growing fascination with the Lindsay Lohan's, Paris Hilton's, Ashton Kutcher's, and others who - in their defense - have never claimed to be more than pretty projections of fantasy.

Such celebrities are also our neighbors. But love is not a matter of indulging fantasies. Fantasy is an impediment to love. True love is engaging the reality of each other and working with one another to allow our fundamental realities to emerge.

Nevertheless, if thou through frailty delight thee in thy senses, and in such vanities, but yet keepest thyself in charity and the grace of God as to other things, and choosest not this delight for a full rest of thy soul, but always settest up God above all things in thy desire, this sin in thee is venial; and that more or less according to its circumstances; nor shalt thou for these venial sins be put from the supper in the bliss of heaven, but thou shalt want the tasting and the assaying of that delicate supper, whilst thou livest here on earth, unless thou be busy with all thy might to withstand and conquer such venial sins, for though it be so that venial sins break not charity, yet soothly they let the fervour and the ghostly feeling of charity. (John Climacus)

If I were in conversation with the fleshly Climacus I would not argue with him here, and merely murmur consent.

But more honestly - though only God knows the truth - I am inclined to see what he calls venial sins as potential spiritual aids.

There is a way to share supper with others that brings us into fuller relationship with God.

In truly tasting what we eat, noticing the fragrance of the meal, feeling the textures of evening, seeing what is really before us, and - especially - in listening carefully to one another and to God, in all these ways, we experience the charity and Grace of God.

We are created in the image of God, senses and all.

Right so say I to thee; for to have thy senses, and to use them in need, it is no sin, but if thou go voluntarily to try them by vain delights in creatures, then it is sin. And if thou choose that delight as a final rest of thy soul, and as a full liking, that thou carest not to have any other bliss but such worldly vanities, then is it deadly, for thou choosest it as thy God, and so shalt thou be put from thy supper; for St Paul forbids us to use our senses in that manner when he said thus: Thou shalt not go after thy lusts, nor voluntarily try thy likings. A man or a woman that is encumbered with deadly sin shall hardly escape deadly sin in this business, though he perceiveth it not; but I hope this toucheth not thee. (John Climacus)

I would benefit from leaning in the direction advocated by Climacus.

In too many cases I satisfy my senses - or even overwhelm my senses - with mediocrity.

I listen to noise on the news, and canned muzac, and a hundred advertisements, and long disorganized teleconferences. These are spiritual subtractions.

Do I need to hear Bach, or the birds morning song, or the wind rushing through the trees? I am not sure of need, but I do perceive spiritual benefit.

Dear God, make me mindful of my choices and help me choose that which will deepen my relationship with you and my neighbor.

I will show thee furthermore (for thy desire draweth more out of my heart than I thought to have said in the beginning) when the use of thy senses be deadly sin, and when venial. Thus, therefore, our Lord saith in the Gospel: A man made a great supper, and called many thereto, and sent his servant at supper-time, after them that were bidden. The first excused himself, and said on this wise, that he could not come, for he had bought a farm. The other also excused himself, that he could not come, for he had bought five yoke of oxen, and went to try them. The third, for that he had married a wife. I forbear to speak of the first and of the last, and will tell ye of the middlemost of them, that had bought the oxen, for he is to our purpose. Five yoke of oxen betoken the five senses, which are beastly as an ox. Now this man that was called to the supper was not rejected because he bought the oxen, but because he went to try them, and so he would not come. (John Climacus)

In each of the three cases the value of the invitation is not understood.

The farm, the spouse, and the yoke of oxen are all potential distractions, and in this instance they cause those invited to neglect an opportunity of much higher value.

I agree with Climacus that the case of the oxen demonstrates the most egregious dearth of perception and the analogy with the five senses is meaningful.

Jesus does not explain the prior relationship of any of those invited with the host. The implication is that whatever the prior relationship, what matters is our readiness to accept the invitation.

We have been invited - today - will we accept, or do we have other commitments that have claimed us?

Thus a chosen soul, joying in our Lord, saith of Him in holy Writ: The King brought me into His wine cellar. That is to say: Inasmuch as I forsook the drunkenness of fleshly lusts and worldly likings, which are bitter as wormwood, therefore the King of bliss, the Lord Jesus, led me in; that is, first into myself for to behold and know myself, and after He led me into His cellar; that is to say, above myself by ascending and passing into Him alone, and gave me a taste of His wine; that is for to taste a certainty of spiritual sweetness and heavenly joy. These are not the words of me, a wretched caitiff, living in sin, but they are the words of the spouse of our Lord in holy Writ; and these words I say to thee, to the end that thou mightest draw in thy soul from without, and follow on further as well as thou canst. (John Climacus)

We are creatures who hear, see, feel, smell, and taste. Each of these senses may be cultivated or neglected or over-indulged.

If cultivated with care, each can draw us closer to God and neighbor. Otherwise, the senses can also play a role in separating us from God and neighbor.

The senses are how we engage reality. Our neighbors are part of that reality. God is in that reality.

Spiritual sweetness and heavenly joy are open to us, but we are often too busy or troubled to notice.

Fig trees grow tall and dense with leaves. The figs are easy to miss. But even when you spy dark purple you should feel the fig. If it is still firm, wait for tomorrow.

If tomorrow the skin of the fig has softened, then gently pluck it. Take at least two bites. Consider the luscious red interior, divided yet whole. With each bite let the taste linger on the tongue, notice the juicy mix of flesh and seed subtly complementary in their distinct textures.

I have not yet learned to hear a ripe fig and neither do I notice their fragrance. I am sure there are others who do both. I still have much to learn.