Cultivating a Sanctuary Within

21.  If you keep your body free from disease and sensual pleasure it will help you to serve what is more noble.

St. Maximus the Confessor Four Hundred Centuries on Love: #22

Picture an ancient, ornate temple standing with regal poise amidst the chaotic sprawl of a bustling city. Its spires pierce the sky, offering a stark contrast to the modern edifices around it. This temple is a beacon of serenity, a space untouched by the frenetic energy of the streets below. Within its walls, one feels an immediate sense of calm and reverence—a palpable shift from the disarray outside.

Saying 21 of Maximus the Confessor guides us with the wisdom: "If you keep your body free from disease and sensual pleasure it will help you to serve what is more noble."

Our body, much like this imagined temple, is meant to be a sanctuary. A place where the divine can reside and be revered, and where our noblest pursuits can take root and flourish.

The city around the temple, with its seductive neon lights and tantalizing promises, mirrors the many sensory pleasures and distractions of our world. They are not inherently evil, but they often pull us away from our temple's sanctity, making us forget the treasures within. These pleasures can be like a dense smog, obscuring our vision and leading us away from our higher purpose.

To indulge unchecked in these pleasures, to let them rule our lives, is akin to letting weeds overrun a garden. Slowly, the beautiful flowers and plants that took so much care and love to cultivate are choked, their vibrancy dimmed by the invading distractions.

But how does one protect this sacred temple? How do we guard its gates?

By taking diligent care of our physical well-being, ensuring our body—the vessel of our soul—is free from avoidable ailments, we lay the foundation for spiritual growth. In essence, a healthy body becomes the stalwart guardian at the temple's gates, allowing the noble pursuits of the soul to take precedence over fleeting sensory pleasures.

The temple's inner sanctum houses a verdant garden—a symbol of our spiritual aspirations and virtues. Here, away from the city's clamor, we cultivate our inner world, tending to it with the same dedication as a gardener to his most cherished plants.

But the garden thrives best when the temple is well-maintained. A body free from excessive sensual pleasures, much like the clear waters of a temple's pond, reflects the beauty of the world above and below, allowing us to serve the divine within us with clarity and purpose.

Maximus the Confessor's profound wisdom is an invitation. An invitation to return to our temple, to clear the pathways overrun by the weeds of excess, and to let the waters of our inner pond settle into a crystal-clear mirror.

By honoring and caring for our body—this magnificent temple—we make space for the divine dance of our soul, nurturing the garden within and letting its flowers bloom in vibrant splendor. In this sanctuary, we are free to pursue what is truly noble, transcending the cacophony of the world and embracing the melodies of the divine.