In the first volume of The Philokalia is St Mark the Ascetic’s “Letter to Nicolas the Solitary.” It is only about 14 pages long, but it has extraordinary depth. To obtain an understanding of St Mark’s meaning, I would suggest the following way of approaching it; contrast the opening and the closing, and carefully study the very middle.

First, the letter opens with an address to “my son” Nicolas, who wishes to know how to save his soul. It seems that St Mark is one of a number of “true ascetics” who are living in a desert. (147) It may be that he has already moved from Asia Minor to Egypt, while Nicolas in his old haunt of Ankyra (152); but what is significant is that Mark speaks – and teaches – on behalf of the community, saying that not just he but they are “fighting against the hostile energies and bravely resisting the passions.” I think this is a significant part of the context: he is speaking as a solitary, living among but not necessarily with others, and he later warns Nicolas not to be too solitary, too alone; for one needs the help of brethren (158).

We do not in fact know much about Mark’s circumstances, but be clear, neither he nor the solitary to whom he writes live the sort of lives which we are leading, and so we must be prepared to modify St Mark’s advice. Further, this is long-distance advice: I suspect that were Nicolas with Mark, other additional methods could have been taught. That is, some arts cannot be taught by letter.

Second, the opening of the letter strikes me as unexpected: Nicolas is living away from Mark, but he has written to Mark, asking him how to “live a life according to God.” Although he has been engaging in “much hardship” such as vigils and intense prayer, he is yet “especially troubled by the passions of anger and desire.” I shall return to this at the end of this note, but bear it in mind.

Third, compare and contrast the first and last advice of Mark:

You should continually and ceaselessly call to mind all the blessings which God in His live has bestowed upon you … You must not let forgetfulness of evil or laziness make you grow unmindful of these … blessings … For this kind of continual recollection, pricking the heart like a spur, moves it constantly to confession and humility, to thanksgiving with a contrite soul … (148)

Then, at the close of the piece, Mark wrote that he would teach Nicolas a “wonderful spiritual method” which “does not call for bodily exertion,” only efforts of the soul and direction by the intellect, and “attentive understanding” which is “assisted by fear and love of God.” (158)

When one compares these, it becomes, I suggest, clear, that the message of this letter is do not place the emphasis on physical austerities, valuable as these may be, the great tool you need to use is your attention. Time and again, he returns to the need for “deep attentiveness” (159) and the examination of thought (151) – something which can only be done by not identifying with our thoughts, and calling on those parts of our intellect which are higher than ordinary thought.

Of course, the usual physical mortifications such as keeping night vigils and guarding against drunkenness are recommended: one typical falls into these temptations at night, when inebriated, or both. But Mark is clear that by themselves these are not enough: one needs prayer, stopping lustful thoughts, and above all the help of the Holy Spirit, who refreshes the good mind within us. (153-154)

Pride is a major enemy: it will keep evil alive in the soul. (154) This is, I might venture to say, a necessary stable of the true spiritual life; anyone who can speak of that life without mentioning pride and vanity is suspect. A sovereign remedy against this is to meditate on the life and mission of Christ – a most fitting subject for contemplation, as we are made in the image of God. (154-156) Here St Mark’s thought touches on typology – we, the antetypes of Christ the archetype should conform ourselves to him.

This meditation on the life of Christ is the heart and the literal centre of the Letter. It is critical because pondering the profound humility of Christ is the antidote to the passion of pride (156).

St Mark says, in particular, that one can use the three vices of ignorance, forgetfulness and laziness as what we might call “reminding factors”. By saying that ignorance is the “source of all evils”, forgetfulness works with ignorance, and laziness then wraps all in darkness, he teaches that the true cure is what we might call attentive illumination. He is not a gnostic, but he has put his finger on the element of truth which gnosticism gets drunk with: we can only progress in action as we progress in understanding.

The advice is specifically to enter into oneself “through prayer and with the help of God,” descending “into the depths of the heart” and looking to find the three gigantic foes: ignorance, forgetfulness, and laziness (150, 158-159). This is done partly by bringing to mind whatever is opposed to these, namely the true, just, modest, pure, beautiful, and holy things of God. (159) This is most necessary because if one is ignorant one may not know what one lacks, and if one is forgetful, one may not know what one has let slip. However, by asking how I am respecting this virtue, or that virtue, I may realise that I am lacking, and that I have been oblivious. Once more, the tool is attention.

I do not consider that we who live in or near cities and must work, go to shops, visit people, and fulfil civic duties, can follow this advice without some modification: if we maintain an all-night vigil we will not be able to go in to the office the next day, or complete our studies. Heaven help the family man who tries to follow such methods in their full rigour. But the work of inner attention, prayer, meditating on the life of Christ, and mortifying not our flesh so much as our pride, ignorance, forgetfulness and laziness, are valid for all of us.

Finally, what strikes me as unexpected is that Nicolas, surrounded by monks and hermits, with so many Christians between Mark and himself, should write to this saint. Was it because Mark was remote that Nicolas’ superiors suggested he write to him? Surely others could have given this advice. I also wonder whether there was not a sort of international network of monks and hermits, and that St Mark was at the apex, so that his advice would be especially authoritative for all in that circle? We cannot now be sure.

Although my studies of Gurdjieff have enabled me to understand Mark, I do not believe that I am reading Gurdjieff into Mark – rather, they are like two men standing in different places who see a mountain from afar. They see it from different perspectives but what they are seeing is really there, and so their comments can be treated as complementary. We can see that they agree, and that they agree because they are both seeing reality.