Most Christians never get taught the actual method of contemplative prayer. This post compares the Four R’s of Metropolitan Jonah and Thomas Keating—two paths to the same stillness of the heart. Forget liturgical performance and theological gatekeeping. This is the inner work that actually transforms you.
Thank you for this. --It's about whether we've entered the heart, made space for God, consented to stillness, experienced change. --Commitment. Life changing. Transcendent.
Yes - "bypass the gatekeepers" I think they were meant to be guides not gates. But too many stay being gates. I have wondered if it is some part of them that just does not want to share so keeps you out with to do lists.
Yet one must be very careful not to turn these four R methods, especially as Met Jonah prescribes, into a subtle form of spiritual bypassing.
Many, if not most, can’t simply “not react or resent” and “keep inner stillness” because they lack the very self-awareness required to see clearly the thoughts, feelings, and emotions leading to their reactions and resentments. Therefore, they can’t simply “keep inner stillness.” The critical element of self-awareness has yet to be developed, and deeper issues are at play.
If the method teaches one to immediately reject thoughts, feelings, and emotions through the use of the Jesus Prayer (for example), then this powerful tool has simply been turned into a crutch — an end in and of itself instead of a means of real transformation. And when this happens, a person can delude themself into believing they have transformed and healed, when in reality they haven’t. Once the hyperactive use of the Jesus Prayer ceases, so does their sense of “peace” and inner stillness, along with the resurgence of reactions and resentments. They have failed to heal the problem from its root and have instead been engaging in mere symptom treatment (albeit with even extreme levels of pious dedication).
Aaron, I appreciate the care you're bringing to this, but I think you're missing a key distinction.
The Four R’s aren’t about bypassing emotion or rejecting thoughts in a dissociative way. They’re about cultivating the spaciousness to see those thoughts and emotions without immediately becoming entangled. That is the work of self-awareness, not its avoidance.
You mention that most people lack the self-awareness required to do this. That is exactly why the practice exists. Not to suppress emotion, but to interrupt the automatic chain of identification. Without that interruption, deeper healing cannot even begin. It is not about pretending to be at peace. It is about creating enough stillness to notice how unhealed parts operate and to stop fueling them unconsciously.
As for the Jesus Prayer, when used properly it is not a crutch. It is an anchor. But yes, like anything sacred, it can be misused. That is why this practice is embedded in a larger path of honesty, shadow work, and humility. If someone is chasing stillness to avoid pain, the practice will eventually expose that. The Four R’s are not the end. They are the invitation to begin.
I completely agree, and I don’t disagree that this is exactly what the Jesus Prayer is intended to help enable. I just share as the fine print warning at the bottom, often never read or even consciously acknowledged, because misuse or misunderstanding like I’ve described can and do in fact occur.
It would also be helpful to discuss more of the other steps you mentioned, which can only take place with and after a healthy use of tools like the Jesus Prayer. Often those next steps which lead to a deeper understanding, inner reorganization, and healing are not explicitly discussed in the Orthodox context (in my opinion). What those other elements paint is a more complete understanding of the human person, extremely beneficial for healing. I see it as “the rest of the (theosis) story”.
Yes, I think you’re pointing to something important. The Jesus Prayer, when practiced well, can open real space in the heart. But without support for emotional integration and clear self-awareness, it can also become a way to shut things down instead of move through them.
That’s part of why I’ve leaned more toward Keating’s Centering Prayer. It doesn’t treat thoughts or emotions as problems to fix. The sacred word isn’t used to suppress anything. It’s just a way to return to presence, again and again. That return builds the kind of awareness most people are missing—not by force, but by grace.
Personally, I’m not aiming for theosis. I’m more interested in unified or nondual consciousness. I want to recognize the false self without making war on it, and rest in something deeper than narrative. Centering Prayer has been a better doorway for that.
One of the biggest spiritual hazards in a theosis path, especially in the modern Western mind, is this: you confuse the ego for the image of God, and then try to divinize that. So instead of theosis, you get me-osis—a spiritualized inflation of the very self that was supposed to die.
This is why contemplative traditions put so much emphasis on:
Self-awareness
Surrender
Inner stillness
Recognizing and letting go of false identity structures
Because if you don’t know what the false self is, it will gladly walk the path of theosis and put on robes while it’s at it.
Amen. I walk a similar path. I understand what theosis is, means, and looks like within the Orthodox context, but I am also very well aware of its pitfalls and potential to morph into something it’s precisely trying to avoid and is not.
I am even more interested in what I have recently written about as “Theosis for All,” which obviously ruffles Orthodox feathers and rings heretical, but I don’t care. What we’re pointing to is something possible for all human beings that far transcends religious dogma or identification.
I learned meditation from Buddhism, so it’s interesting to learn about these 2 Christian teachings. As you said, most religions lead us to meditation as the most basic kind of prayer. 🔥
That’s a beautiful starting point, Karen, and I love that you’re exploring across traditions.
One framework that’s helped me see the differences more clearly (without collapsing them) comes from Cynthia Bourgeault, who describes three types of meditation:
🧘♂️ 1. Concentration
This is where most of us start—focusing on one thing like the breath or a mantra to train the mind and build inner stillness. You’ll find this in samatha (Buddhism), japa (Hinduism), and even in Christian traditions through the rosary or breath prayers. It's about gathering attention and stabilizing awareness.
👁 2. Awareness
This moves from “focus” to “watchfulness.” You’re noticing thoughts, feelings, sensations without attaching or reacting. This is central in vipassana, Zen’s shikantaza, and modern mindfulness-based stress reduction programs. It builds insight into how the mind works.
🙏 3. Surrender
This is where Christian Centering Prayer lives. You’re not observing or focusing—you’re consenting. Letting go of the egoic “doer” and yielding to the indwelling presence of God. In the Christian apophatic tradition, this isn’t about mastering awareness—it’s about being mastered by Love.
“The intention is not to reach stillness—it’s to consent to being reached.”
So yes, many religions do offer meditation-like practices. But not all meditation serves the same aim.
Some calm. Some clarify. Some transform.
That’s what makes Centering Prayer so unique. It’s not “just another form of mindfulness.” It’s a practice of divine intimacy—where silence isn’t absence, but presence in its most mysterious form.
So glad you’re leaning into the exploration. There’s so much richness when we stop flattening traditions and let them speak with their own deep voice.
Would love to hear what part of Buddhist practice has stayed with you the longest. 🙏
I like the simplicity of the Buddha’s teachings. Meditation brings the mind back to the present moment, letting go of passing thoughts. The one big difference with Christianity’s Centering Prayer is a belief in & surrender to God. Buddhists & Christians can reach the same enlightenment — it’s just that Buddhists don’t call it God. 🙏
That’s a thoughtful reflection, Karen, and you’re not alone in sensing a deep resonance between Buddhist and Christian contemplative paths.
But I would suggest that while both traditions may lead to similar capacities—such as inner stillness, freedom from egoic clinging, and grounded presence—their ontologies are different.
In Buddhism, the ultimate aim is often described as non-clinging awareness, emptiness (śūnyatā), or cessation. The practitioner realizes a profound freedom from illusion, rooted in clarity, compassion, and equanimity. There is no abiding sense of self or “Other” to surrender into. What arises instead is spaciousness, wisdom, and release.
That said, it’s important not to flatten Buddhism into abstraction. Many Buddhist paths, particularly in Mahāyāna and Vajrayāna traditions, offer deeply personal, relational presences that carry the flavor of divine intimacy.
Devotion to Amitābha, Tārā, or Avalokiteśvara can feel remarkably close to Christian prayer. These are not impersonal techniques but loving relationships with beings who respond, protect, and uplift. They are not creators or gods in the theistic sense but embodied expressions of compassion and awakened mind. And the heart knows how to trust them.
In Centering Prayer, the surrender is likewise relational. The one we surrender to is what the mystics call the personal, loving presence at the ground of all being. It lives in us, and we live in it. It is not something we observe from a distance or dissolve into impersonally; it is something we consent to, in love.
But even here, the word “God” can sometimes mislead. In the Gospel of Mary, Jesus speaks of returning to the Child of Humanity, a deeper essence beneath the constructed self.
Surrender, then, may also mean releasing into that original wholeness—not to a deity outside of us, but to what is most real, most unified, most free within.
Ah, but it's not "rejection." That's where the sticky bits of contemplation cause trouble. Inner stillness, IMHO, involves just that, no pushing away or violent denial, just a compassionate acceptance. Of course this takes a lot of practice and yes, absolutely, awareness.
Great post, Virgin Monk Boy! I have much personal experience of the hesychastic tradition, having spent 8 years in a Greek Orthodox monastery. Like you, I came from Buddhism, but have returned to it (Tibetan tradition). Yet, I recognize and celebrate the harmony among diverse religious/spiritual practices. Indeed, the "nous" cannot be claimed to be exclusive to one religious tradition.
I hope many people read and most importantly internalize what you articulate here. 🙏♥️🙏
Eight years in the hesychastic current—that’s a depth most never touch. And to weave that with Tibetan insight? You’ve sat in the stillness beneath both names and felt the same silence breathing through them.
I totally agree—the nous isn’t owned. It recognizes. It remembers. It reflects itself in every path that dissolves ego and bows to mystery.
Grateful we get to cross paths here in this digital cloister.
Virgin Monk Boy
(monastic dropout, spiritual polyglot, lover of the radiant quiet)
If this stirred something in you, even a little, then the stillness is already working. You don’t have to “try” to meditate. Just sit like a cat who heard God whisper through a sunbeam. No goals. No posture police. Just be.
The return is the practice.
Every time you wander and come back—that’s the whole thing.
I also think that some of the "gatekeepers" (maybe just a few, sadly) were too "head-centered" and afraid than consumed by a lust for control... "It can't REALLY be that EASY, can it?" Of course it's not easy, it's simple, a distinction of note.
Yes, exactly. The real threat was never simplicity. It was that the door was always open.
Because if union with the Divine is available right here, right now, without a credential or a guru's blessing, then the whole control structure crumbles.
You're right. It's not easy. It's just simple. And that simplicity terrifies people who’ve built an identity around spiritual effort and achievement.
Stillness doesn’t require a ladder. Just the courage to stop climbing.
When I find myself confused or overwhelmed I pray the Our Father. It has always comforted me. I concentrate on each word and it's meaning.
When I feel alone or unloved, I close my eyes and try to envision the time I felt his presence and the unconstitutional love I felt when he placed his hand upon my face.
Thank you for this. --It's about whether we've entered the heart, made space for God, consented to stillness, experienced change. --Commitment. Life changing. Transcendent.
Yes. That’s the center of it, isn’t it? Not just learning stillness, but letting it shape us. Letting it rearrange the furniture of the heart.
Consent. Space. Change. Those are the real sacraments, even when nobody sees them.
Grateful you’re here in the quiet with us.
"The deep work is shared" - yes. Took me a minute to get around to realizing this, but so worth it.
It always takes a minute. Maybe even a few years. We’re so trained to go it alone that shared depth feels unnatural at first.
But once it lands, everything softens. The ache gets lighter. The silence feels kinder.
Yes - "bypass the gatekeepers" I think they were meant to be guides not gates. But too many stay being gates. I have wondered if it is some part of them that just does not want to share so keeps you out with to do lists.
Celia,
Exactly. They were supposed to point, not block. But somewhere along the way it became about control. Or safety. Or maybe just habit.
I’ve felt that too — like the lists and ladders are more about keeping people small than waking them up.
It’s hard to share something you haven’t trusted for yourself yet. Maybe that’s what’s behind it.
Either way, the ones who really know don’t build gates. They leave breadcrumbs and walk on.
I like your view that they can't because they have stopped pursuing and started building gates. A much more compassionate view. Thank you for that.
Yet one must be very careful not to turn these four R methods, especially as Met Jonah prescribes, into a subtle form of spiritual bypassing.
Many, if not most, can’t simply “not react or resent” and “keep inner stillness” because they lack the very self-awareness required to see clearly the thoughts, feelings, and emotions leading to their reactions and resentments. Therefore, they can’t simply “keep inner stillness.” The critical element of self-awareness has yet to be developed, and deeper issues are at play.
If the method teaches one to immediately reject thoughts, feelings, and emotions through the use of the Jesus Prayer (for example), then this powerful tool has simply been turned into a crutch — an end in and of itself instead of a means of real transformation. And when this happens, a person can delude themself into believing they have transformed and healed, when in reality they haven’t. Once the hyperactive use of the Jesus Prayer ceases, so does their sense of “peace” and inner stillness, along with the resurgence of reactions and resentments. They have failed to heal the problem from its root and have instead been engaging in mere symptom treatment (albeit with even extreme levels of pious dedication).
Aaron, I appreciate the care you're bringing to this, but I think you're missing a key distinction.
The Four R’s aren’t about bypassing emotion or rejecting thoughts in a dissociative way. They’re about cultivating the spaciousness to see those thoughts and emotions without immediately becoming entangled. That is the work of self-awareness, not its avoidance.
You mention that most people lack the self-awareness required to do this. That is exactly why the practice exists. Not to suppress emotion, but to interrupt the automatic chain of identification. Without that interruption, deeper healing cannot even begin. It is not about pretending to be at peace. It is about creating enough stillness to notice how unhealed parts operate and to stop fueling them unconsciously.
As for the Jesus Prayer, when used properly it is not a crutch. It is an anchor. But yes, like anything sacred, it can be misused. That is why this practice is embedded in a larger path of honesty, shadow work, and humility. If someone is chasing stillness to avoid pain, the practice will eventually expose that. The Four R’s are not the end. They are the invitation to begin.
I completely agree, and I don’t disagree that this is exactly what the Jesus Prayer is intended to help enable. I just share as the fine print warning at the bottom, often never read or even consciously acknowledged, because misuse or misunderstanding like I’ve described can and do in fact occur.
It would also be helpful to discuss more of the other steps you mentioned, which can only take place with and after a healthy use of tools like the Jesus Prayer. Often those next steps which lead to a deeper understanding, inner reorganization, and healing are not explicitly discussed in the Orthodox context (in my opinion). What those other elements paint is a more complete understanding of the human person, extremely beneficial for healing. I see it as “the rest of the (theosis) story”.
Yes, I think you’re pointing to something important. The Jesus Prayer, when practiced well, can open real space in the heart. But without support for emotional integration and clear self-awareness, it can also become a way to shut things down instead of move through them.
That’s part of why I’ve leaned more toward Keating’s Centering Prayer. It doesn’t treat thoughts or emotions as problems to fix. The sacred word isn’t used to suppress anything. It’s just a way to return to presence, again and again. That return builds the kind of awareness most people are missing—not by force, but by grace.
Personally, I’m not aiming for theosis. I’m more interested in unified or nondual consciousness. I want to recognize the false self without making war on it, and rest in something deeper than narrative. Centering Prayer has been a better doorway for that.
One of the biggest spiritual hazards in a theosis path, especially in the modern Western mind, is this: you confuse the ego for the image of God, and then try to divinize that. So instead of theosis, you get me-osis—a spiritualized inflation of the very self that was supposed to die.
This is why contemplative traditions put so much emphasis on:
Self-awareness
Surrender
Inner stillness
Recognizing and letting go of false identity structures
Because if you don’t know what the false self is, it will gladly walk the path of theosis and put on robes while it’s at it.
Amen. I walk a similar path. I understand what theosis is, means, and looks like within the Orthodox context, but I am also very well aware of its pitfalls and potential to morph into something it’s precisely trying to avoid and is not.
I am even more interested in what I have recently written about as “Theosis for All,” which obviously ruffles Orthodox feathers and rings heretical, but I don’t care. What we’re pointing to is something possible for all human beings that far transcends religious dogma or identification.
Theosis for All. Now that is a title I can get behind.
https://open.substack.com/pub/aaronlessin/p/theosis-for-all-toward-an-emergent?r=oevw8&utm_medium=ios
I learned meditation from Buddhism, so it’s interesting to learn about these 2 Christian teachings. As you said, most religions lead us to meditation as the most basic kind of prayer. 🔥
That’s a beautiful starting point, Karen, and I love that you’re exploring across traditions.
One framework that’s helped me see the differences more clearly (without collapsing them) comes from Cynthia Bourgeault, who describes three types of meditation:
🧘♂️ 1. Concentration
This is where most of us start—focusing on one thing like the breath or a mantra to train the mind and build inner stillness. You’ll find this in samatha (Buddhism), japa (Hinduism), and even in Christian traditions through the rosary or breath prayers. It's about gathering attention and stabilizing awareness.
👁 2. Awareness
This moves from “focus” to “watchfulness.” You’re noticing thoughts, feelings, sensations without attaching or reacting. This is central in vipassana, Zen’s shikantaza, and modern mindfulness-based stress reduction programs. It builds insight into how the mind works.
🙏 3. Surrender
This is where Christian Centering Prayer lives. You’re not observing or focusing—you’re consenting. Letting go of the egoic “doer” and yielding to the indwelling presence of God. In the Christian apophatic tradition, this isn’t about mastering awareness—it’s about being mastered by Love.
“The intention is not to reach stillness—it’s to consent to being reached.”
So yes, many religions do offer meditation-like practices. But not all meditation serves the same aim.
Some calm. Some clarify. Some transform.
That’s what makes Centering Prayer so unique. It’s not “just another form of mindfulness.” It’s a practice of divine intimacy—where silence isn’t absence, but presence in its most mysterious form.
So glad you’re leaning into the exploration. There’s so much richness when we stop flattening traditions and let them speak with their own deep voice.
Would love to hear what part of Buddhist practice has stayed with you the longest. 🙏
PS: sorry for the canned response, I was literally finishing this piece for a similar situation when you post showed up!
I like the simplicity of the Buddha’s teachings. Meditation brings the mind back to the present moment, letting go of passing thoughts. The one big difference with Christianity’s Centering Prayer is a belief in & surrender to God. Buddhists & Christians can reach the same enlightenment — it’s just that Buddhists don’t call it God. 🙏
That’s a thoughtful reflection, Karen, and you’re not alone in sensing a deep resonance between Buddhist and Christian contemplative paths.
But I would suggest that while both traditions may lead to similar capacities—such as inner stillness, freedom from egoic clinging, and grounded presence—their ontologies are different.
In Buddhism, the ultimate aim is often described as non-clinging awareness, emptiness (śūnyatā), or cessation. The practitioner realizes a profound freedom from illusion, rooted in clarity, compassion, and equanimity. There is no abiding sense of self or “Other” to surrender into. What arises instead is spaciousness, wisdom, and release.
That said, it’s important not to flatten Buddhism into abstraction. Many Buddhist paths, particularly in Mahāyāna and Vajrayāna traditions, offer deeply personal, relational presences that carry the flavor of divine intimacy.
Devotion to Amitābha, Tārā, or Avalokiteśvara can feel remarkably close to Christian prayer. These are not impersonal techniques but loving relationships with beings who respond, protect, and uplift. They are not creators or gods in the theistic sense but embodied expressions of compassion and awakened mind. And the heart knows how to trust them.
In Centering Prayer, the surrender is likewise relational. The one we surrender to is what the mystics call the personal, loving presence at the ground of all being. It lives in us, and we live in it. It is not something we observe from a distance or dissolve into impersonally; it is something we consent to, in love.
But even here, the word “God” can sometimes mislead. In the Gospel of Mary, Jesus speaks of returning to the Child of Humanity, a deeper essence beneath the constructed self.
Surrender, then, may also mean releasing into that original wholeness—not to a deity outside of us, but to what is most real, most unified, most free within.
Ah, but it's not "rejection." That's where the sticky bits of contemplation cause trouble. Inner stillness, IMHO, involves just that, no pushing away or violent denial, just a compassionate acceptance. Of course this takes a lot of practice and yes, absolutely, awareness.
Yes, brother John, exactly. Stillness doesn’t shout “Be gone!” to the noise. It just stops answering the door.
Rejection is still ego playing goalie. True contemplation just lets the wind pass through the house without rearranging the furniture.
No pushing, no posturing. Just staying put with open eyes and a soft spine.
It feels passive, but it’s the bravest damn thing a soul can do.
Thanks for naming it. The sticky bits matter.
"Stops answering the door..." I like that very much! Like not jumping into the boats that pass on the river. 😄
I have to give Thomas Keating credit for "not jumping into the boats that pass on the river."
Great post, Virgin Monk Boy! I have much personal experience of the hesychastic tradition, having spent 8 years in a Greek Orthodox monastery. Like you, I came from Buddhism, but have returned to it (Tibetan tradition). Yet, I recognize and celebrate the harmony among diverse religious/spiritual practices. Indeed, the "nous" cannot be claimed to be exclusive to one religious tradition.
I hope many people read and most importantly internalize what you articulate here. 🙏♥️🙏
Universal Monk, thank you for this.
Eight years in the hesychastic current—that’s a depth most never touch. And to weave that with Tibetan insight? You’ve sat in the stillness beneath both names and felt the same silence breathing through them.
I totally agree—the nous isn’t owned. It recognizes. It remembers. It reflects itself in every path that dissolves ego and bows to mystery.
Grateful we get to cross paths here in this digital cloister.
Virgin Monk Boy
(monastic dropout, spiritual polyglot, lover of the radiant quiet)
Beautifully spoken. Thank you.
Thank you for meeting the stillness with such open presence. Sometimes the truest prayer is just pausing long enough to say, “Yes. I felt that.”
Gratitude received and mirrored.
Thank you so much for sharing this. Much to contemplate. I’m inspired to try and meditate again.
Ah, Mercy Mercy,
Even your name is a mantra.
If this stirred something in you, even a little, then the stillness is already working. You don’t have to “try” to meditate. Just sit like a cat who heard God whisper through a sunbeam. No goals. No posture police. Just be.
The return is the practice.
Every time you wander and come back—that’s the whole thing.
Welcome home.
I also think that some of the "gatekeepers" (maybe just a few, sadly) were too "head-centered" and afraid than consumed by a lust for control... "It can't REALLY be that EASY, can it?" Of course it's not easy, it's simple, a distinction of note.
Yes, exactly. The real threat was never simplicity. It was that the door was always open.
Because if union with the Divine is available right here, right now, without a credential or a guru's blessing, then the whole control structure crumbles.
You're right. It's not easy. It's just simple. And that simplicity terrifies people who’ve built an identity around spiritual effort and achievement.
Stillness doesn’t require a ladder. Just the courage to stop climbing.
Thanks for saying it plain. We need more of that.
So very well put!
When I find myself confused or overwhelmed I pray the Our Father. It has always comforted me. I concentrate on each word and it's meaning.
When I feel alone or unloved, I close my eyes and try to envision the time I felt his presence and the unconstitutional love I felt when he placed his hand upon my face.
The four R's for me
- remember his love
- Rest in his grace
-Resist temptation
- Rise to the occasion
Thank you Alek 💕 ✨️
Another wonderful article! I've never heard a metropolitan joining before. Now I know. :-)
So good!