Two weeks ago I finished reading The Way of a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim Continues His Way, that contemporary classic of Russian Orthodoxy. It was a short book, delightful to read, very pious in spirit. The author of the book was desiring to know how he might pray continually, without ceasing. After seeking out many instructors, he finally came upon a wise spiritual man who told him to pray the following prayer again and again, not losing heart: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.’ It was not long before the pilgrim became quite accustomed to and fond of the prayer, for it brought him inner peace of mind and heart, as he trusted Christ’s mercy. Meeting foes and friends along the way, another wise man instructed him that while we may not always be disposed to the best attitude of the mind or heart when we pray, we certainly have good control over how often we pray. And so, it is quite within reach that we might bring ourselves to say it as often as possible. This prayer tradition is called hesychasm, from the Greek word for rest or repose. Saint Augustine said, “God, you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are unquiet until they find their rest in You.” In faith we bring ourselves to the place of God’s grace, and the blessed Paul says in Romans that “faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17). And so if we bring ourselves to say the prayer, either aloud or in our hearts, we come to the place of hearing, where faith is born. Without doubt the name of Jesus is our salvation, and “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Rom. 10:13).
Not long after I had finished this book, I began praying that prayer. It quickly brought me to humility and to concern for my neighbor. I trust that Christ had comforted my soul, and so I was able to offer kindness to my neighbors. I found that when I stopped praying, selfishness and indifference would raise their ugly heads, but when I said the prayer they were put to rest, and I cared again about my neighbor. Praying this prayer gave me an acute awareness of my own spiritual poverty, and my great need for God’s grace. For Christ himself, though he was rich, became poor for our sakes, so that we, through his poverty, might become rich (2 Cor. 8:9).
It would be rather arrogant of me to presume that this particular form of prayer is suitable for everyone, and I do not. If you do not find it helpful, then by all means discard it and make haste in discovering some other regular habit that works for you.
