Daily Meditations

Father Maximos on the Two Types of Faith

“The Fathers of the Church,” Fr. Maximos continued, “taught that there are two types of faith. The first is simply belief that there is a God as revealed in Holy Scripture. You must reach this stage in order to arrive at the second stage, which is the faith that we call theoria.”

When I began my exploration of Eastern Orthodox spirituality, several years back, I was fascinated to notice the difference between the way science uses the word theory and the way the

Fathers of the Ecclesia understood the same word. Theoria in Greek literally means “seeing God.” It is composed of the word Theos, meaning “God,” and the verb oro, meaning “I see.” Theory as understood by conventional science is a method to develop knowledge of reality. For the Fathers of the Ecclesia, ultimate reality is God. Therefore, the aim of the spiritual practitioner is to reach the stage of theoria, the stage where one can see God, that is, to be connected experientially with what is ultimately and truly real.

Philip Sherrard, a contemporary Orthodox theologian and philosopher, explains that real knowledge of anything must be based on the presupposition that at the very foundation of the world there is a Divine Reality that can be apprehended only with an organ that transcends both our senses and our reason. Otherwise, whatever we consider as knowledge is nothing other than a series of transient illusions. 

“This second type of faith,” Fr. Maximos went on, “is not some kind of abstract belief. Theoria is the faith that is born out of a direct experience of God.” 

“The problem is, how do you get there?” Maria asked.

“It’s the most difficult task and the only one worth pursuing,” Fr. Maximos said. “It is the result of many years of trials, adventures, temptations, and of the way we respond to the difficulties of life. God appears at the end of an exhausting patience when everything looks dark and desperate.” 

“The dark night of the soul,” someone murmured.

“It is the state that Christ reached in the Garden of Gethsemane,” Fr. Maximos continued. “It is the ultimate boundary of one’s existence. It is at this point that God reveals His Presence. After that ultimate borderline point, everything changes. You move about within a different reality, and you begin to live a different life. You transcend human things, temporal things.”

I had a feeling that Fr. Maximos was speaking from personal experience, although he would never admit it. He always presented his views as reflections of the teachings of the holy elders. 

“God,” he continued, “is now present in your own life, and worldly things are no longer relevant or desirable. 

“But how is this second type of faith born in a human being?” Michael asked.

“This is exclusively in the hands of God. It is not the product of human effort. However, as a rule it happens to people who may even have only a small dose of good intentions in moving toward that direction. If a human being slams the door to God, then nothing will happen. It is like being inside a house so firmly sealed from the outside that not even a single ray of sun may go through. Outside, the sun may be shining, but you are inside the house in absolute darkness. If you drill a hole in the wall, then a ray of light will enter. If you drill two holes, then you allow two rays of the sun to enter. If you remove the roof, then the inside of the house will be filled with light. If you step outside yourself, then you will be filled with light. That is how faith works. God exists inside us. It is in Him that we move and live and have our being. From God’s perspective, everything is already perfected. 

“Yet why don’t we believe?”

“Because we are all firmly closed off from the rays of the hearts become receptive to faith, then God will offer His light in accordance with our readiness to let it in. Unquestionably, God cannot cause an injustice to any human being.”

~Adapted from Kyriacos C. Markides, Inner River: A Pilgrimage to the Heart of Christian Spirituality