The rite of the sacrament introduces the moisture of life into the world, and rivers of grace have flowed in the world by the very performance of the rite; and whether anyone drinks from them, and if he drinks, whether he drinks for his own benefit, is a special matter for everyone, and here everyone looks after himself. However, by my unwillingness to drink from the river of eternal life, the satisfaction of my neighbor's thirst is not hindered or damaged.

This is what had to be said, first, in response to the consideration that the frivolous invocation of God is nothing: and now, secondly, to put it simply, there is no frivolous invocation of God, because it cannot be, because it is impossible. Here again it is necessary to distinguish fully and clearly between the ontological fact and its consequences. There may be an irreverent attitude towards God or even opposition to Him. There may be an inner duality, when, calling upon God, a person is busy thinking about something completely different and, perhaps, incompatible with the thought of God. All this means that man places himself before the face of God, without thinking about the consequences, or thinking about them contrary to what he ought to think. In this sense he may be called frivolous, perhaps impious; but this does not mean that the invocation itself is frivolous or impious: just as a mathematical theorem in the mouth of a criminal remains true and cannot be called criminal, although the conduct of the one who utters it, for example, to conceal traces or to deceive, is criminal, so the invocation of the name of God always retains its ontological truth and, consequently, cannot be pronounced as such, i.e., when pronounced, it is thought with its true content. and not with false or no content at all. Whether the holy or the wicked names God in his call, he names Him, and not anyone else or anything else. Whoever and with whatever intentions invokes the name of God, he nevertheless directs his call in the right direction, to God, not somewhere in the void. Word—

In the mouth of a good or bad person, believer or unbeliever, the name of God means God and no one else; and this first act, the prostration of the Name towards its content, is necessarily identical with all who pronounce it, for it is only by the identity of this act that the pronouncer of the Name adjoins the language in which he speaks, and consequently enters into the sphere of reasonableness; If there were no such act, he, the speaker, would remain irrational and wordless, άλογος, and consequently his sounds, not being words, would be devoid of any rational significance, like the howl in a trumpet, not only in the minds of others, but also in his own, for language belongs either to society or to no one, but cannot be individual. Such sounds could not then be <yes or no> to be said, and consequently, denying them a rational meaning, it would in no way be reproached for them in irreverence. But if we reproach, we are acknowledging the logical content; it means that the words have in all mouths a meaning of universal significance, and, therefore, the name of God, even in the mouth of the wicked, is what it is, directed to God{912}.

Thus{913} the invocation of the name of God in its very first moment is an ontological exit to God; For whatever purpose such an exit is made, it – as a way out, as a call – can in no way be evaluated in itself, as empty or ineffective. He who calls on God knows what he is doing and wants what he is doing. When it is noted that the pronunciation of the name of God is unconscious, it is certainly true that in most cases the conscious attention of the one who pronounces the holy name is not directed with the clearest sight to the word itself, to the name; in this sense, one can speak disparagingly of the overwhelming majority of "those who receive the name of the Lord God"{914}

But if we see in the lack of concentration of conscious attention the decisive reason for condemning as meaningless the ordinary invocation of the Name, then will not almost all of our speech, and in particular all our appeals, not only in relation to God, find themselves in an even worse situation? In general, apart from the exceptional cases of deliberate gazing at our own words, of deliberately fixing our attention on each individual word, does not our speech in general flow semi-consciously, which, however, does not in the least prevent us from recognizing and taking into account its logical significance and imputing this significance to the speakers? In relation to the word, as well as to other means of expression, no matter what actions they may be manifested by, we recognize conscious attention as secondary, reflexive, while the very creativity, the very activity of expressing meaning, belongs to the greater mind, to the subliminal and supralitinal consciousness. It is this latter that guides our life in general, it is it that carries the inspiration of good or the passion of evil; And the ever-present manifestations of our meaning, no matter how little conscious they may be, i.e., how unreasonably far-fetched, are nevertheless the essence of the phenomenon of meaning, of reason, and nevertheless express the active, though profound, sometimes even hidden from the lower consciousness, self-determination of our personality. If a drunken man swears, we speak of him as not restraining thoughts and feelings, and in this sense as consciously insane, but we do not at all think that his curses are in no way imputed to his moral person: otherwise we would not consider such swearing a bad thing; and the drunken man himself, when he sobers up, is ashamed of her and would like her ex to be gone. And a promise made while drunk is not considered to have given an empty sound. This proves that both he himself and those around him consider his abusive words precisely for what they are, and do not at all think about the possibility of reinterpreting them in a good way or about simply annulling them, as something standing outside of meaning and outside of moral evaluation. In other words, language is universally and always recognized as a supra-individual, supra-conscious, supra-rational essence, objectively preceding the intellect, just as in general it objectively conceives entities which are not created by it. Therefore, whether consciously or semi-consciously he takes a word from the treasury of language, he takes it, takes an objective word, with its meaning inseparable from it, and therefore bears the corresponding consequences. There is no need to refer here to conditionally subjective notions of justice or injustice, of deserved or undeserved consequences: the contact with an objective essence can in a certain sense be likened to the introduction of a substance into oneself, and if the latter has caused harm, then there is no need to talk about the undeserved misfortune that has befallen it, just as there is no need to talk about the undeserved help, since the substance taken unconsciously has produced a cure. And at the same time, we are convinced that the word, even if it is unconscious, was not said by chance: the higher self-determination of the individual brought "on the tongue" what was "on the mind".

Everything that has been said about words in general applies especially to condensed words, which constitute the points of reference of the historically formed thought of a people, even of mankind: such words are especially powerful, especially real, have extraordinary consequences, and, consequently, their use is especially responsible. Names, more than other words, are such centers of condensation, concentrators of universal meaning, and the name of God, of all words, is naturally the word of the greatest depth and power, and consequently of the greatest responsibility. But this responsibility belongs to the noumenal roots of the personality, to the deep self-determination of our entire being, and not to the peripheral consciousness and not to the rational attempts at depth, sincerity and piety. The hysterical accentuation of the Name of God, the exclamation of tone, the loud voice, which arise as a result of the conscious emphasis of the Name, do not at all ensure a genuine walk before God, and even more likely this is seen as a sign of the Pharisaic duality of consciousness. "Not everyone shall say to me, 'Lord, Lord! will enter into the Kingdom of Heaven" {915}, does not mean that the Name in itself does not give anything, but that in this rational sincere effort to give itself a mile of growth (— after all, sincere, as the ancient Pharisees were sincere in its own way; the spiritual falsity of hypocrisy and insincerity, of course, was implied by itself by everyone and apart from Christ—)—in this effort is contained, already contained, the inner duality of man, who doubles in his thoughts, for he calls upon the Lord, but does not hope in the Him who is called, Who would give him growth, but in Him himself, as one who makes a conscious effort and intends to cultivate himself by his own effort of invocation. But such a person, i.e. one who calls on the Lord and, consequently, does not remain unanswered, but does not really need the Lord (in his opinion), will not enter the Kingdom of God. He called God, but—in order to explain to Him his high intentions; opened, but just enough to show off his humility and immediately slam the door into his heart. Deliberate appeal, if not always, then most often, its consciousness, is a negative sign; on the contrary, semi-consciousness rather indicates the coincidence of the inner and the outer: called, out of love or hatred, but because he wanted to stand face to face and therefore stand. And each of us does not value the semi-conscious, or even completely unconscious, invocation of the name of God as low as it is done in abstract discussions. When a sick person in delirium, or dying in agony, clearly unconsciously whispers the name of God, we are moved, we see in this—and even in the very unconsciousness of the invocation—something lofty, spiritually victorious—somehow even better, that it is unconscious, knowingly without reflection, without self-recklessness; We believe this is not in vain. Unconscious does not mean unreasonable. Even the drunken man has the name of God on his lips as somehow removing the guilt, or at least the burden of condemnation from him, somehow paralyzing the evil that the wine brought with it. It is not without reason that in the innumerable cases narrated by the people, partly known to everyone from personal experience, included in fairy tales and approved by the Church's consciousness, the sign of the cross, as they say, "out of habit", "automatically" or "mechanically" performed by an intoxicated person, and the invocation of the name of God, which also fell off the tongue, as if accidentally, i.e. unconsciously pronounced, is attributed grace-filled help, which more than once saved evil people from inevitable death. some accident, danger or dark delusion.

9. All that has been said brings the philosophical-theological thought about the efficacy of calling to the usual everyday view of this subject, or, more precisely, everyday thought to the theological one. Invocation is not a particular aspect of our spiritual activity, but the concentration of our whole being, culminating in a mystical exit from oneself and a touch of the Invoked. The whole cult has in its essence the removal of us from the earthly sphere and ascension to the heavenly sphere; the sacrament is this very ascent to heaven, consequently, the sacrifice of our being to God. From this it is clear that the secretly concluding and secretly performing prayerful invocation is a sacrifice, a spiritual self-sacrifice. Prayer is a sacrifice. "Be pleased then, O Lord, to accept the voluntary sacrifice of my mouth" (Psalm 118:108). "Turn, O Israel, to the Lord thy God; for thou hast fallen because of thy wickedness. Take with you the words of prayer and turn to the Lord; say to Him: 'Take away all iniquity, and receive it for good, and we will offer the sacrifice of our mouth'" (Hos. 14:2-3){916}. The words of the mouth, prayer are sacrifice and the source of all sacrifice, for every other sacrifice is made a sacrifice through prayerful invocation, by which our mystical self-sacrifice is embodied in certain actions and becomes a visual manifestation. For every sacrifice is vicarious, is a victima vicaria, is an image of our own creation, annihilated in its unrighteousness before the Eternal. The slain Lamb is myself, my being, and He became so because I actually sacrificed myself, appearing before God through my call; but through my prayer I transferred the material significance of this spiritual process to the Lamb, and only then did He become slain, devoured. And every other sacrifice is me, but since mystically I have indeed sacrificed myself and embodied this mystical act in a certain materiality. "The lifting up of my hand is the evening sacrifice"{917} but the matter of lifting is the raising of hands, and only by prayerful invocation are these rising hands of mine a visual image of the ascension of my own being, self-devoured by the Being of beings. By elevating our perishability to another world, to the Holy, prayer receives to earth an already renewed and sanctified being.

"When you read," every youth read in the preface to the Study Book of Hours, "when you read, God speaks to you; and when you pray, you converse with God. And there is your prayer to Him, a pleasant sacrifice... If the heart is sent up from pure grief, the heavens penetrate, and from thence the vain does not return, but brings down the gifts of grace, which make the mind wise and save souls"{918} Our ancestors began their education with this thought of St<one> John of the Ladder and other fathers.

10 {919}. «... The soul was not and is not before the mind, nor the mind before the word that is born of it, but at one moment all three have existence from God, says St<Odobno> Symeon the New Theologian, "and the mind gives birth to the word, and through it brings forth and manifests the external desire of the soul... Thy own spirit, or thy soul, is all in thy whole mind, and thy whole mind is in all thy word, and all thy word is in all thy spirit, inseparable and unmerged. This is the image of God, and by this we are enriched from above... Wherefore, and when we bow down to a man, a single reverence bears witness to him as having a mind, a soul, and a word, without dividing them, nor preferring one of these three with pre-eminent reverence; but since He has these three in Himself inseparably and unmerged, we bow down to Him and pay homage to Him not as the Three who exist, but as one man, according to the common image of the Creator God... We confess the Father of equal honor, equal power, and of one essence with the Son and the Spirit, the Holy Trinity, as the One Principle, Power, and Dominion, just as our own mind is equal in honor, equal in power, and of one essence with the word and the soul, inasmuch as there is one nature and essence with them... Now, if a man loses one of the three paraphernalia shown, he can no longer be a man. Take away a man's mind—you will take away the word along with the mind—and a mad and dumb man will come out. Take away his soul—you will take away with it both the mind and the word. In the same way, if you take away one inner word, you will upset the whole human nature. The mind that does not give birth to the word cannot receive the word from the beginning; For how is it possible for him to hear the word from one who has himself become foolish and dumb and has departed from the order of his nature? Just as we naturally have within us a breathant spirit, by which we breathe and live, so that if the breath is cut off, we will immediately die: so our mind naturally has in itself the power of words, by which it gives birth to the word, and if it is deprived of the natural generation of the word, as if it were separated and dissected from the word, which is naturally present in it, then it will be killed and will become good for nothing. Thus, our mind has received from God its natural belonging to it always to give birth to the word, which it has inseparable and always united with itself. If you take away the word, then along with the word you will also take away the mind, the progenitor of the word... Whoever therefore calls any one of the Three Persons [of the Most Holy Trinity] greater or lesser than the others, has not yet drawn his mind out of the depths of the passions, so that he may be able with intelligent eyes to see and know himself, and to understand by himself that, as in himself, the mind is neither greater nor less than the soul, the soul is not less than the soul, the soul is not less than the mind and the soul, so the Father is neither greater nor less than the Father of the Son, The Son is the Father, the Holy Spirit is the Father and the Son, but they are co-originated in essence and are equal in honor" [The Words of St. Simeon the New Theologian.

This passage from St<odoby> St. Simeon is a clear example of the patristic, and consequently in general, the Church's teaching on the verbal activity of man. The word is not an external appendage of human nature, not an accidental attribute of man, with the elimination of which everything remains essentially unchanged, but a constitutive attribute, moreover, the very essence of man, inasmuch as man has revealed himself by his spiritual energy, has become existent for others and for himself. You cannot say: "a man and his word." The word is man himself, but in the aspect of self-discovery, in the aspect of human activity. Human activity, or culture, and in its very essence, at the centre of life, the cult, is essentially verbal, and this is not only in the sense that human actions are accompanied by words and have a verbal explanation, but also in the incomparably deeper meaning of being permeated by the word. Every action, in so far as it is human, i.e., it is an action and not a natural process, in its essence is the word, and the external fact, the external-factual side of it, is the matter of the word, analogous to the matter of sound, but more easily subordinated to the embodiment of meaning. We speak by our actions, and the inner side of this speech is the same as that of any other. In church writing, literature is noted as its own sign of humanity or spirituality, and the basic division of all existence proceeds on the basis of verbality or wordlessness, just as the recognition of human action as corresponding to nature, its evaluation as human, is determined by the word verbal, while the unnaturalness of an action, its falling out of humanity into a lower sphere, the fall of man, is stained as wordless.

"I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, present your body as a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing to God, your verbal service—την λογικήν λατρείαν υμών" (Romans 12:1). Man's service to God, which the Apostle denotes by the term λατρεία, which means the relationship of the creature to the Creator and cannot be applied to the relationship of the creature, this service to God consists in offering sacrifice with one's whole being, including the body. The Apostle speaks only of the body, because the spirit must be directed to this sacrifice itself, since it does it with the body; but this living, holy, God-pleasing sacrifice is a verbal service: the believer speaks with his body, offering it as a sacrifice, and bears witness with his body to Him to Whom it is offered. And further, the Apostle, having affirmed the reality, including the corporeality of the Christian sacrifice, explains its verbality even more: "And be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, άλλα μεταμορφοΰσθαι ττ| άνακαινώσει του νοός υμών». (Romans 12:2). But it was a question of sacrificing the flesh, and consequently this sacrifice of the body is a transformation or transfiguration by the renewal of the mind. The Apostle does not call to serve by word, as it is usually understood, but to serve with the body, but with a spiritualized body: it is verbal. When the mind is conformed to this world, i.e., to the dumb creature, "walks in the elements"{920} then it renounces the Word, and the body, merging with the world, becomes dumb, because it does not pronounce words with itself—it does not bear witness to God. When, however, the mind, worn out by the Fall, is renewed, i.e., it is transfigured, conforming to another being, eternal life, and, consequently, taken out of the world, the mountain is lifted up, offered as a sacrifice to God, then the body bears witness to the things above: this is the verbal service{921}

Application

Sacrifice—Prayer Incarnate