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Icon of St.John Climacus |
To those who wish to have their names written in the book of life, this book certainly shows the best path to the goal. For, if we study it, we will be convinced that it surely guides those who follow it, preserving them from all the troubles that lead to ruin. It presents us with a ladder that starts from the earthly and reaches the heavenly, revealing God who sits at its top. It seems to me that Jacob, who conquered and surpassed his passions, saw it at the moment of rest on his ascetic's bed. Please, let us also begin with hope and faith to climb this mental and heavenly ladder, the beginning of which is the renunciation of the earthly, and the end is the God of love himself.
Saint John Climacus – The Ladderer
Not much is known about the life of Saint John Climacus, the author of the Ladder. It is usually assumed that he was born in 525, probably in Constantinople, into a pious family of wealthy and prominent Constantinople nobles, Saints Xenophon and Mary. According to what the monk Daniel writes about him, Saint John came to the Sinai Monastery when he was sixteen years old. The Sinai Monastery, known since the 9th century as Saint Catherine's, was built by the Byzantine Emperor Justinian in 527 at the northern foot of one of the main Sinai peaks, Jebel Musa, on the Sinai Peninsula. The monastery soon became a center of spiritual life and a meeting place for monks from Egypt and Palestine, and even from other, more distant lands. Saint John also came there, and lived under the guidance of the holy elder Martyrius until the elder's death, a full nineteen years. Then he retreated to a cave in the Sinai ravines, in a place called Tola, where he lived for forty years in very strict asceticism, first completely alone, and then with his disciple Moses. His exploits and holiness began to attract people, monks, who came for advice, comfort, and healing. It seems that after forty years spent in Tola, he returned to the monastery to continue his monastic asceticism, perhaps at the request of his brothers. However, it is certain that the brotherhood of the Sinai monastery elected him abbot. This election certainly took place at the beginning of the year 600, because a letter from Saint Gregory the Great, Pope of Rome, addressed to Saint John as abbot of Sinai has been preserved from the autumn of that year. It is not possible to determine how long Saint John spent in the position of abbot after that, but it is known that he left it during his lifetime, handing it over to his own brother, Gregory, and retired to his hermitage in Tola, where he probably died. If the tradition that he died at the age of eighty-three is correct, then the year of his death could be 608.
Saint John was a very educated man. This is evident from his work The Ladder, in which one can establish a broad knowledge not only of the literature of the Holy Fathers and the Holy Scriptures, but also of classical philosophy, and even of certain lay sciences, such as medicine or military skills. This confirms the words of his biographer that he was a man "with general education". General (encyclopedic) education at that time was considered to be a basic knowledge of grammar, poetics, rhetoric, philosophy, mathematics and other disciplines. His name was known throughout the cultural world already during his lifetime, which is unequivocally proven by his personal connection and correspondence with the Roman Pope, Saint Gregory the Great, as well as numerous connections with various ascetics and saints of the Middle East. Based on the information in the Ladder itself, it can be concluded that he traveled and visited famous centers, especially in Egypt, such as Canopus, Phylak (Dungeon) near Alexandria and others. How much he was respected as a spiritual man and a person initiated into divine mysteries is best evidenced by a letter from Saint John, the abbot of another Sinai monastery, namely Rait, about 30 km away from the monastery of Saint Catherine. John of Rait asks the abbot of Sinai to write and send him a book dedicated to monastic life and monastic philosophy. Thus was born the Ladder, or the Ladder of Paradise, the main work of Saint John, after whom he is called the Ladderer. It is a writing composed of thirty teachings. Just as it is necessary for a person to live thirty years from his birth to become mature, according to the standards of that time, so it is necessary for a monk to pass thirty stages in his asceticism, in order to reach spiritual perfection. The idea of the Ladder, i.e. the gradual age in spiritual perfection, is taken from the well-known dream of the Old Testament patriarch Jacob (Genesis 28:12-13). Symbolically, Jacob's ladder, which stands on the earth and touches the sky with its top, on which the angels of God ascend and descend, and at the top of which the Lord Himself is located, is meant to signify man's path to the heights of divine perfection, the connection between earth and heaven, the path on which man is accompanied by the angels of God and which has a very specific goal, which is the Lord God Himself. The monastic asceticism is meant to be the path by which the soul gradually frees itself from the earthly and ascends to the heavenly. Hence the symbolic name Ladder.
In addition to the Ladder, the God-pleasing John of the Ladder wrote, especially for the abbot of the monastery, a work called the Instruction to the Shepherd, in which practical advice is given to the monastery elder (abbot) regarding the spiritual leadership of the brotherhood. In addition, it is believed that Saint John also wrote commentaries on the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, as well as a number of letters to the monks. However, these commentaries and letters have been lost. His letter to Pope Saint Gregory the Great has also been lost.
INTRODUCTION
A short biography of Father John, the abbot of the holy Mount Sinai and a true saint, compiled by Daniel, a monk from Rait, an honorable and virtuous man
I am not able to say with absolute certainty where this great man was born and in what famous city he was educated before he devoted himself to monasticism. However, I know with absolute certainty in which city the wonderful father is now and where he is being treated to divine food. For he now resides in the city of which the melodious Paul speaks in one place, exclaiming: Our citizenship is in heaven (Phil 3:20), and in divine feeling he nourishes his spirit with that which is never enough, delights in the sight of immortal spiritual beauty and rejoices in the spirit in the spiritual. He receives a reward worthy of his sweat and honor for his tireless labor, having received an eternal inheritance and joining forever with those whose feet stand on the right path (Ps 25:12), becoming one with them.
How this man of flesh and blood reached incorporeal beings, I will explain as clearly as possible.
At the age of sixteen, however, a thousand years old in spiritual age, the blessed one offered himself to the High Priest as a pure and voluntary sacrifice. He ascended in body to Sinai and in soul to the heavenly mountain, intending, I think, that this very visible place should serve him as the best guide to the invisible mountain. Having cut off the shameful shamelessness of alienation, by that excellent means of establishing control over his passions, he also attained a deep humility of mind, and already at the very beginning of his feat he quite wisely banished the deceiver of self-indulgence and self-confidence, and bowed his head and entrusted himself to an excellent tamer of youth, so that, guided by his sure hand, he might safely cross the deep sea of life. Thus he completely mortified himself, his soul as if without reason and without will, freed even from its natural properties [1].
What is even more strange is that he, a man of general education [2], becomes a disciple of heavenly simplicity, considering the arrogance of philosophy to be something most absurd and completely alien to humility.
After nineteen years, having sent his teacher to the heavenly King as a kind of ambassador and representative, he himself went out into the field of solitude, holding in his hands the prayers of his great father as a weapon for the destruction of the enemy's fortresses. Having found a place suitable for solitary asceticism, about five stadia from the church (this place was called Tola), he spent forty years in persistent asceticism, always burning with the fiery love of God.
Who can describe in words and give a worthy recognition to the exploits that he performed there! And how to discover his every effort, brilliant in secret! Nevertheless, even if only by some of the main feats, we will be able to get a certain idea of the all-holy wealth of the trisacred.
He ate every kind of food that is allowed to monks without complaint, but very little. In this way, it seems to me, he very wisely broke the horn of vanity and with such restraint suppressed his mistress who demanded much, threatening her with deprivation: "Shut up! Stop it!"
By living in solitude and silence or loneliness and avoiding contact with people, he extinguished the flame of this furnace, that is, the body, reducing it to ashes and completely quieting it. Through almsgiving and deprivation in the necessities of life, this hero courageously avoided the worship of idols (cf. Col 3:5). He raised the soul from daily death and languor [3], pricking it with the memory of death as with a needle. He unwound the tangle of passions and all kinds of sensual pleasures by using holy sorrow. He had already killed the tyranny of anger with the sword of obedience, and he killed the leech of spider-like vanity by rarely appearing among people, and even less often speaking.
And what can be said about the victory that this wonderful initiate won over the eighth passion [4], what then about the greatest degree of purification that this Joy (cf. Exod. 31, etc.) of obedience [5] began, and the Lord of the heavenly Jerusalem completed with his coming?
Without obedience, the devil and his company cannot be defeated. Where in this wreath should I place the source of his tears, something not often encountered, whose hidden workshop still exists: a very small cave at the foot of the mountain, far enough away from his cell and everyone else's so as not to create an occasion for ambition? But that cave was close to heaven by the sad cries and cries for help that rang out from it with the strength usually shown by those who are pierced by a sword or by those who have their eyes gouged out with a red-hot scepter.
He gave himself up to sleep only as much as was necessary so that the nature of the mind would not be injured by sleeplessness. And before going to bed he would pray a lot and compose books: this was his unique remedy against despondency or melancholy. Indeed, his whole life was one continuous prayer and immense love for God. Observing God, day and night, in the purity of his holiness as in a mirror, he did not want, or, to put it more accurately, could not, get enough.
Following his example, a monk named Moses persistently begged him to accept him as a disciple and to introduce him to true philosophy. He even persuaded some elders to go to the great Ivan. Thanks to their entreaties, Ivan agreed to receive him. One day Ivan ordered Moses to go to the city and there dig up land that would be suitable for cultivating and cultivating vegetables. Having arrived at the appointed place, Moses diligently set about the work he had been commanded. However, when noon came and the greatest heat prevailed (it was then the month of August), Moses took refuge in the shade of a huge stone, lay down and fell asleep. And the Lord, who does not want to grieve his servants in anything, as is his custom, anticipated the danger. The great old man, who was sitting in his cell and thinking about himself and God, fell into a light sleep, in which he saw a priestly man waking him up and rebuking him for his dream, saying: "John, how can you sleep without worry while Moses is in danger?" John suddenly jumped up and armed himself with prayer for his disciple. And when Moses returned to his cell towards evening, John asked him if anything unexpected and unpleasant had happened to him. And the latter replied: "A huge rock would certainly have crushed me while I was sleeping under it at noon, if I had not heard you calling me, and in one leap I was far from that place." And John, of truly humble mind, said nothing about his vision, but with hidden sighs and the power of love he glorified the good God.
He was a model of virtue and a healer of invisible wounds. For example, a man named Isaac, who was strongly possessed by the heavy demon of carnal love and was already faint in spirit, rushed to this great ascetic and revealed to him, sobbing, his terrible struggle. Amazed by his faith, blessed John said to him: "Friend, let us both stand in prayer." And as soon as they had finished praying, while the tormented Isaac was still lying face down on the ground, God fulfilled the desire of His servant (so that it would not turn out that David was lying, cf. Ps 144:19), and the serpent fled under the blows of true prayer. And the sick man, feeling that he had been healed, was completely beside himself, and thanked both the one who had prayed for him and the One who had heard him.
Some, however, spurred on by envy, called Saint John a chatterbox and a gossip. But he taught them by his deeds, showing everyone that he could do all things in Christ who gives him strength (Phil 4:12), and he remained silent for a whole year, so that his mockers turned into suppliants, who said: "We have closed the source from which our benefit flowed forever, and we have harmed the salvation of all"! And he, not wanting to explain himself, listened to them and continued with his previous way of life as if nothing had happened.
After that, in recognition of all his virtues, they unanimously, and against his will, elevated him, like a newly revealed Moses, to the position of head of the brotherhood. By placing a candle on the candlestick of the elders, the good electors did not err; for John this was an occasion to approach Mount Sinai himself. Having climbed the spiritual ladder, he entered the mysterious sanctuary of the invisible temple, and in a vision received the divinely written legislation. With the Word of God he opened his mouth and was inspired by the Spirit, and words began to flow from the rich treasury of his heart. And he reached the end of his visible life leading the Israelites, the monks, differing from Moses only in one thing: in that he entered the upper Jerusalem. For Moses, for some reason I do not know, did not enter the lower Jerusalem [6].
The Holy Spirit spoke through his mouth. This is borne out by many who were saved through him or are still being saved. The best witness to his saving wisdom is the new David [7]. The good John, our all-good shepherd, was also a witness, who convinced this new seer of God to come down with his spirit from Mount Sinai for the benefit of the flock and to show us his divinely written tablets, which contain practical advice on the outside and instructions for contemplation on the inside.
I have tried to express a lot in a few words: and among rhetoricians, brevity of expression is most valued.
About the same Father John, the abbot of Mount Sinai, i.e. the Ladderer [8]
Father Martyrius came one day with Father John to the great Anastasius. When he saw them, he said to Father Martyrius: "Tell me, Father Martyrius, where is this boy from? And who tonsured him?" And the latter answered him: "He is your servant, father, and I tonsured him." And Anastasius said to him: "Look, Father Martyrius, who would say that you tonsured the abbot of Sinai"! And Saint Anastasius was not mistaken, because after forty years, John truly became our abbot.
On another occasion, again, Ivan was taken with him by his teacher, Father Martyrius, to visit the great Ivan Savvait, who was then living in the Guda desert. When he saw them, the old man got up, poured water and washed the feet of Father Ivan, and kissed his hand. He did not wash the feet of Father Martyrius, however. When his disciple, Stephen, asked him why he had done so, he said to him: "Believe me, child, I do not know who that boy is, but I received the abbot of Sinai and washed the abbot's feet."
Even Father Stratigius, on the day Father Ivan was tonsured at the age of twenty, prophesied that he would become a great star.
On the day that Father Ivan became our abbot, about six hundred guests gathered. While they were sitting and eating, Father Ivan noticed a man with short hair, dressed in the Jewish manner in a sindon, running here and there and commandingly issuing orders to the cooks, stewards, chelarits, and other servants. When the people dispersed and the servants sat down to eat, they looked for the one who had been going around and issuing orders, but they did not find him. Then the servant of God, our God-pleasing Father Ivan, said to them: "Let him go! The Lord Moses did nothing unusual by serving in his place."
When a drought once struck the Palestinian region, Father John prayed at the request of the local inhabitants and abundant rain fell. It is not surprising: For the Lord will fulfill the desire of those who fear him, and he will hear their prayer (Ps 144:19).
It should be known that John Climacus or the Ladderer had a brother, the miraculous Father George, whom he appointed as the abbot of Sinai during his lifetime, and himself gave himself up to solitude, which he, as a wise man, had chosen as his bride from the beginning. When the time came for this new Moses, the most holy abbot John, to go to the Lord, Father George, his own brother, stood before him weeping, saying: "Here, you are leaving me and going away? I have prayed constantly that you would see me off, because I am not even capable of governing the monastery without you, oh my Lord! And now I am seeing you off"! Father John said to him: "Do not grieve, and do not worry! If I gain freedom with the Lord, I will not leave you until I am a year old after my death." And so it happened, ten months later George also went to the Lord.
Letter of Saint John, Abbot of Raitt to the Most Venerable John, Abbot of Mount Sinai
To the extraordinary and angelic father of fathers and the foremost teacher, the sinful overseer sends greetings in the Lord.
Since we, the poor, know your unquestionable obedience in the Lord in everything and adorned with every virtue, especially in that in which the talent that God has given you should be multiplied, we have decided to write to you, no matter how poor and pitiful our words may be, bearing in mind what is said: Ask your father, and he will explain to you; your elders, and they will tell you (Deut. 32:7).
Therefore, crown of virtues, we beseech you with this letter as the common father of us all and the best teacher, the oldest in asceticism and spiritual wisdom, to send to us the ignorant what you saw in the vision of God, like ancient Moses, on that same mountain, and to compile a precious book as divinely written tablets and send it to us, for the instruction of the new Israel, who has just come out of spiritual Egypt and crossed the sea of worldly life. And just as you performed a miracle on the sea, with the help of God, with your divinely inspired tongue instead of a staff, so now do not despise our request, but without hesitation write clearly everything that is necessary for the monastic life and that is suitable for our salvation in the Lord, for you are truly a great teacher of all who have chosen the angelic life.
And do not think that what I say is flattery or flattery. You know very well, holy father, that this is foreign to us and that what we say about you here is also spoken by everyone else. Therefore, we hope in the Lord that we will soon receive and kiss your precious words, written in the book we await and which will serve all true followers of Christ as a reliable guide and as a ladder that extends all the way to the gates of heaven and raises those who want to reach heaven, so that, whole and unharmed, they may freely pass by the spirits of evil, and the rulers of darkness, and the rulers of the air. For if Jacob, an ordinary shepherd, had such a terrible vision on the ladder, how much more can the shepherd of spiritual sheep show everyone by deeds and truth not only the vision but also the unerring ascent to God! Be healthy in the Lord, venerable father!
I have received your esteemed letter, worthy of your lofty and dispassionate life, and your pure and humble heart, which you have sent to us, the poor and the poor in virtue, a letter which in reality represents a command and an order that exceeds our powers. Indeed, it is fitting for you, you alone and your holy soul, to ask for a word of instruction and admonition from us, who are so ignorant and ignorant, both in word and deed. Your holiness always serves us as an example of a humble mind. Moreover, I will say now: if we did not fear the great danger to which we would expose ourselves by throwing off the yoke of holy obedience, the mother of all virtues, we would not so unwisely embark on what is beyond our capabilities. It is necessary, admirable father, when you are already inquiring about these things, you should inquire about them from those who know them well. For we are still in the class of those who have just started school.
But since our God-bearing fathers, initiated into the secrets of true knowledge, teach that obedience consists in obeying our elders without hesitation, even when they command us something that exceeds our strength, we too despise our incapacity and piously and humbly set about the task, fearing lest we deserve eternal death for disobedience, and not because we think that it will benefit you in any way or that we will thereby explain something that you, holy father, know less than we do. For I am convinced, not only I but, I think, all who have sound reason, that the eye of your intellect is pure from all earthly things and is not darkened by any passion, and that without any hindrance it directs its gaze towards the divine light and is illuminated by it.
Thus moved to obedience, I approached the execution of your most sacred commission with fear but also out of love, like a clever obedient and useless servant of a noble painter. With my scanty knowledge and stammering expression, I uniformly wrote living words only in ink. But to you, chief and leader of teachers, I leave it to decorate and clarify this book, and to complete what is lacking, as the executor of the divine tablets and the laws of the spiritual.
And I do not send you this work of ours, God forbid, that would be a sign of extreme folly, since you are capable in the Lord not only of others but also of ourselves to teach the divine order and science, but of the divinely called family who together with us learn from you, O best of the best teachers! Through their prayers, as well as yours, a hope is born in us that covers our ignorance, and we raise the sail on the ship of our pen and hand over the stern of our words to our good co-worker, with the request: if anyone in this work is of any use, let him attribute the fruit thereof, as a wise man, to our noble teacher. And let him ask God for a reward for us for our good will, not looking at what is written, for it is truly bad and full of all ignorance, but considering the mood with which we undertook it, as he rewarded the widow for the coin she gave from her heart. The Lord returns the reward not according to the quantity of gifts and offerings, but according to the size of the sacrifice according to our capabilities.
1. Freed even from the natural faculty: according to the ancient commentators, this refers precisely to the ability of the will to will this or that. Due to complete obedience and self-denial, St. John seemed to no longer have even the natural ability to will and choose. These words, therefore, indicate the highest degree of self-denial (cf. the remark in the Introduction to Matthias Rader, sol. 597, according to the Scholia of Elias of Crete).
2. A man with general education: general (''encyclopedic'') education of the time, which included grammar, poetics, rhetoric, philosophy, mathematics ''and every skill and science''. Elijah of Crete sees a particular humility of the mind of Saint John in the fact that he, so educated and cultured, surrendered himself to a simple and ignorant man for instruction, and that he himself then lived as if he had no education. Elijah of Crete finds the motive for this in Saint John's humble thought that God chose what is foolish in the world to shame what is wise (col. 598, in the note).
3. Everyday death and languor: according to the interpretation of Elias of Crete, this should be understood as despondency or unanimity, i.e. a state of languor and dejection, depression and a certain bitterness that inhibits every good activity at its very root (col.601, note n; cf. also the Dictionary at the end of this edition!).
4. On the victory over the eighth passion: this refers to pride, which Saint John conquered by reaching the highest degree of purification from passion, i.e. passionlessness. Passionlessness, however, is achieved through obedience and the coming of the Holy Spirit into the soul (Elijah of Crete, scholium in the commentary on R, sol. 601-602).
5. The Joy of Obedience: The Joy of Obedience was the son of Uriah (and Mary, the sister of Moses, of the tribe of Judah), whom God chose and endowed with a special talent to build the tabernacle. He is taken as a model of obedience (cf. Exod 31, etc.).
6. He did not enter the lower (Jerusalem): this is usually thought to be a consequence of Moses' lack of faith, which he showed when the Lord commanded him to bring water out of the rock with one blow of his rod (cf. Numbers 20:11).
7. That new David: he certainly means Isaac, whom he mentions above, because with the force of his conversion, Isaac seems to resemble the convert King David.
8. About the same Father John: an appendix to the Short Biography, which was most likely written by an anonymous Sinai monk at the same time as Daniel of Raitski was writing the Short Biography.
ABOUT RENUNCIATION AND SEPARATION FROM VANITY LIFE
Our God and King, good, all-good, and all-good (when speaking of God's servants, one must begin with God), created all rational beings and endowed them with the dignity of freedom. Some are therefore His friends, others His true servants, some are His useless servants, others have become completely alienated, and some are His adversaries, although they can do nothing to Him.
The friends of God, as we in our limitations consider them, venerable father, are in fact spiritual and incorporeal beings around Him.
True servants are all those who have tirelessly and enthusiastically done and always do only what is according to His will. Useless servants are those who consider themselves baptized, but have not fulfilled the baptismal vow properly.
Alienated from God and enemies of God, we think, are those who do not believe in God or those who believe wrongly.
Fighters against God, however, are those who not only have themselves violated and rejected the Lord's commandment, but also fight with all their might against those who carry it out.
Each of the aforementioned types requires a special and appropriate book. But in this case, we, the unlearned, could not benefit from an exposition of this. Come, therefore, let us hasten now, humbly and without questioning extend our unworthy hand to the true servants of God who, by their commands, piously compel and kindly compel us to write, let us borrow from their knowledge a writing reed, dip it in the dark ink of a bright, humble mind, and then, as on some paper, or rather, as on a spiritual tablet, let us place it on their polished and pure heart. Writing down the divine words as if sowing divine seeds, let us begin thus:
God is the life and salvation of all who are endowed with freedom: faithful and unfaithful, just and unjust, pious and impious, dispassionate and passionate, religious and secular, intelligent and foolish, healthy and sick, young and old, just as light, sun, air are for everyone without distinction. God does not look at who is who (Rom 2:11; cf. Eph 6:9).
The ungodly is a mortal being who has reason, but who voluntarily flees from true life, and thinks that his Creator, who exists eternally, does not exist.
A transgressor is one who interprets the law of God according to his evil mind and thinks he believes, despite being possessed by thoughts against God.
A Christian is the very image of Christ, as much as is possible for a human being, in words, deeds, and thoughts, with true and infallible faith in the Holy Trinity.
A lover of God is one who participates in all that is natural and sinless, and who does not fail to do good deeds according to his ability.
The abstainer is one who, amidst temptations, snares, and turmoil, strives with all his might to imitate the One who is far from all of these.
A monk belongs to the angelic order and leads an angelic life, which is realized in a material and filthy body. A monk is a man who adheres only to the commandments and words of God, at all times, in all places, in all work. Being a monk means constantly compelling nature and tirelessly watching over his senses. A monk has a consecrated body, cleansed mouth, and enlightened mind. A monk is a caring soul, constantly occupied with the memory of death, whether awake or asleep. Separation from the world is a deliberate hatred of what people in the world praise, and the denial of nature for the sake of achieving what is supernatural.
All those who willingly renounced the things of this life were certainly motivated by a desire for the future Kingdom, or by the abundance of sin, or by love for God. If they were not guided by any of the aforementioned goals, their abandonment of the world is meaningless. Only, even in that case, our good Judge awaits to see what the end of their life's journey will be.
Whoever leaves the world in order to cast off the burden of sin, let him imitate those who sit in the cemetery outside the city, and let him not stop his hot and bitter tears, nor the silent groaning of his heart, until he himself sees Jesus coming to roll away the rock of hardness from the heart and free the mind from the bonds of sin, as he freed Lazarus (cf. John 11:44) by commanding his obedient angels: "Loose him from his passion, and let him go to blessed perfection"! Otherwise, he has no benefit from leaving the world.
All of us who want to leave Egypt and flee from Pharaoh absolutely need a Moses, a mediator between us and God, who, zealous in action and insight, would stretch out his hands to God for us, so that under his leadership we might cross the sea of sin and put the Amalekites of passion to flight [1]. Therefore some were deceived who, trusting in their own strength, thought that they needed no leader. For those who left Egypt had Moses as their leader, and those who fled from Sodom had an angel (cf. Gen 19:1, etc.). The first resemble people who abandon themselves to the care of a physician in order to cure the diseases of their soul: these are those who came out of Egypt. And the second resemble people who ardently desire to cast off the filth of their vile flesh, and therefore they need an angel, or, so to speak, an assistant equal to an angel. The more serious our wounds are, the more we need a skilled doctor.
People who have undertaken to ascend to heaven with their bodies need truly the utmost effort, accompanied by boundless suffering, especially at the beginning of their renunciation, until our nature prone to pleasure and insensitive heart are transformed by means of true weeping into love of God and purity. For repentance, deep remorse, and great, invisible bitterness are inevitable in this endeavor, and especially for those who live superficially, until our mind, that furious and voracious dog, through simplicity, deep meekness, and diligent effort, becomes a vigilant guard of purity. But let us be courageous, all passionate and powerless, and with fearless faith, as with our right hand, let us offer and acknowledge to Christ the powerlessness and weakness of our souls. He will certainly help us even more than we deserve, only if we constantly adhere to deep humility.
Let all who undertake this wonderful, cruel and anguishing, but also easy feat, know that they have come to throw themselves into the fire if they only want the spiritual fire to move into them. Therefore, let each one examine himself, and only then let him eat of the bread of monastic life, mixed with bitter herbs, and drink from the cup filled with tears, so as not to fight against his own condemnation. Since not even every baptized person is saved, it is better for me to remain silent about the rest!
Those who begin this feat, in order to lay a sure foundation, must renounce everything, must despise everything, ridicule everything, reject everything. The solid, threefold and three-pillared foundation consists of: innocence, fasting and chastity. Let all children in Christ begin with these virtues or virtues, taking as an example true children: there is no evil in children. In them there will never be found corruption, nor unbearable hunger, nor an insatiable stomach, nor a body inflamed with lust. After all, perhaps these passions develop with a person's age, fanning the fire within us.
It is truly hateful, and even dangerous, for a wrestler to faint as soon as he has entered the fight, for everyone will see in this a sign of his defeat. In any case, a determined beginning will be useful to us even when weakness sets in, because the memory of the original zeal stimulates the brave soul, weakened in the feat, like a dagger. Some, thanks to this, have often risen.
When the soul, betraying itself, loses its blessed and sweet warmth, let it carefully examine from what cause it was freed, and then let it strive with all its strength and zeal to remove it. It is impossible to return this warmth through any other door than the one by which it came out.
A man who renounces the world out of fear is like a burning incense, which first gives off a fragrance and then turns into smoke. He who does it for the sake of reward is like a millstone that always turns steadily. But a man who renounces the world out of divine love acquires fire at the very beginning. He, as if thrown into a forest, grows into a huge flame in the blink of an eye.
There are people who build on a foundation of stone; others, without any foundation, erect pillars on bare earth; and there are those whose veins and joints, after walking a short distance, become warm and walk faster. Whoever is wise will understand the symbolic lesson [2].
Let us run wholeheartedly to the call of God and the King! Otherwise, since our lifespan is short, it could happen that on the day of our death we will be left without any fruit, and we will die of hunger.
Let us please the Lord as soldiers please the king: from the moment we enter military service, we are required to serve conscientiously.
Let us fear the Lord at least as much as we fear wild beasts. I have seen men who went out to plunder, not fearing God; and when they heard the barking of dogs in that place, they immediately returned. What the fear of God could not do, the fear of wild beasts did.
Let us love the Lord at least as much as we love our friends. I have often seen people who have offended God and have not been bothered by it at all, and when these people have offended their friends in some small way, they have used all means, devised every way, endured everything, apologized for everything, both personally and through relatives and with gifts, just to renew their original love.
At the very beginning of the feat of renunciation of the world, virtues are certainly acquired through effort and pain. As we progress further, we become insensitive to difficulties, or we feel them only slightly. And when zeal completely takes possession of and conquers our physical nature, we acquire virtues completely imbued with joy, longing, and divine flame. As much as those people are to be praised who from the very beginning joyfully and wholeheartedly fulfill the commandments of God, so much are those who spend their entire lives in feats, fulfilling the commandments, but still with pain.
Nor are the sacrifices caused by external circumstances to be underestimated or condemned. I know of some who, while fleeing, unexpectedly met the king, joined his retinue, entered the palace, and were seated at the royal table. I have seen a seed, accidentally fallen into the ground, bear a prosperous and abundant harvest. Of course, the reverse is also possible. I have also seen a man who came to the hospital on some other business, and not to be treated; however, he was won over by the kindness of the doctor, the darkness fell from his eyes, and he remained for treatment. Thus, what happened to some against their will was worth and meant more than what others do deliberately.
No one should call himself unworthy of the religious vocation, under the pretext of having many grave sins, and underestimating himself because of the love of pleasure, inventing excuses for sins (cf. Ps 140:4). Where there is much pus, there is a need for extensive treatment, to remove the impurity. The healthy do not need hospitals.
If an earthly king were to call us, intending to receive us into his personal service, we would not hesitate, we would not make excuses, but would readily leave everything and hasten to meet him. Let us be careful, therefore, that, through our laziness and frivolity, we do not refuse the invitation when the King of kings, the Lord of lords, and the God of gods calls us to this heavenly office, and that we do not remain without justification at the Great Judgment.
A man who is bound by the chains of worldly affairs and cares can walk, but with difficulty; and those whose feet are shackled often have to walk, but they constantly stumble and get wounds. An unmarried man, tied to the world solely by his affairs, resembles one whose hands are only tied, because when he wishes to embark on the path of monastic life, the bonds do not prevent him. And a married man resembles a slave whose hands and feet are shackled.
Some of those who lead a superficial life in the world asked me the following question: "How can we approach the monastic life despite our wives and business concerns?" I answered them: "Whatever good deed you can do, do it. Do not slander anyone. Do not rob anyone. Do not lie to anyone. Do not show yourself important to anyone. Do not hate anyone. Visit church often. Be merciful to the poor. Do not offend anyone. Do not touch another man's wife; let your own be enough for you. If you do this, you will not be far from the Kingdom of Heaven."
Let us set out with joy and the fear of God on this wonderful feat, not fearing our enemies. For they, although invisible, carefully observe the face of our soul. When they see that it has changed from fear, they attack us even more fiercely, because they perceive, cunningly, that we have become frightened. Let us prepare ourselves bravely to fight them: no one can oppose him who fights with all his might.
The Lord, by His own design, has made such a struggle easy for beginners, so that at the very beginning they would not return to the world. Therefore, always rejoice in the Lord, all you servants of God, since in this we see the first sign of the Lord's love for us, as well as that He Himself has called us.
Besides, it is known that God also does this: when He sees a courageous soul, He immediately leads it into battle, because He wants to crown it with glory quickly. The Lord has hidden from those in the world the unpleasantness of this scene, although it is, in fact, pleasant. If it were known, no one would renounce the world.
Devoting the efforts of your youth to Christ with all your heart, you will rejoice in the wealth of goodness in your old age. What is gained in youth strengthens and comforts those who are weakened by old age. Let us approach, young men, with enthusiasm, and live wisely, for the moment of death is uncertain. We have truly wicked and wicked, cunning and treacherous, powerful and vigilant, incorporeal and invisible enemies; enemies who have fire in their hands and who want to burn the temple of God with the very fire that burns in it [3].
No young person should listen to their enemies, the demons, who advise: "Do not exhaust your body, lest troubles and diseases overtake you." Especially in our time, it is difficult to find someone who would resolve to mortify their body, although some do forgo abundant and delicious food. In such a case, the demon wants to make our very entry into the feat sluggish and superficial, counting on the end being like the beginning.
Those who have decided to serve Christ seriously should first of all take care to choose for themselves, with the help of spiritual fathers and on the basis of their own knowledge, a suitable place, a method of asceticism and a profession. A monastery is not for everyone, especially not for those who are inclined to the love of pleasure, nor is a hermit for everyone, because the ascetic solitary life contains many causes for anger. Each should consider which way of life suits him best.
The whole of monastic life is reduced to three main types of feats: to ascetic renunciation of the world and solitude, to the feat of solitude with one or at most with two, and finally, to patient living in a monastery or convent. Do not turn, says Ecclesiastes, either to the right or to the left (Prov. 4:27), but walk the royal road.
And indeed, the middle of the mentioned paths suits many. Woe to the lonely one, says Ecclesiastes, because there is no one among men to lift him up when he falls into discouragement or gloom, or drowsiness, or laziness, or despair (Ecclesiastes 4:10). And where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them , said the Lord (Matthew 18:20).
Which monk, then, is faithful and wise? He who has preserved his ardor, and who every day, until the end of his life, has not failed to add flame to flame, ardor to ardor, zeal to zeal, and longing for God or the desire for God.
Whoever has established himself at this stage should not look back at what lies behind him.
1. And Amalek the passions put to flight: a favorite comparison with events from biblical history, in connection with the exodus of the Jews from Egypt. Everything is in allegory: Egypt is this world, Pharaoh is the devil, Moses is a spiritual leader, the Red Sea is the sea of sins in which we are immersed, Amalek, i.e. the people who stood in the way of the Jewish people to Canaan, is a symbol of the passions that stand in the way of the human soul to the Kingdom of God. Finally, even in the very raising of Moses' hands, Saint John sees an image of the prayerful feat of the spiritual leader, thanks to whom our soul conquers passions and overcomes all obstacles, like the once chosen people of God (cf. Exod 17, etc.).
2. They will understand the symbolic lesson: this refers to those who renounce the world. Those who build on a stone foundation are those who enter a monastery and quickly achieve great virtues, but without the feat of obedience to a spiritual father; for them the entire building of virtues easily collapses, because they are inexperienced and without a spiritual leader, and they do not know how to maintain what they have achieved. Those who build pillars on bare earth without any foundation are those who, immediately after renouncing the world, give themselves over to a hermit's way of life, in which they quickly perish, because they have not laid the foundation in the form of obedience and similar feats. And, the last, i.e. Those whose veins and joints warm up during the walk are those monks who live under the spiritual guidance of elders or fathers without the slightest arrogance, and who as a result become experienced and invincible fighters (cf. Scholia of Elias of Crete, 17, sol. 649 AV, and also the interpretation of St. John of Raitt, Scholia in Climacum, sar. I, Migne, RG, 88,1214 SD).
3. By the very fire that burns within him: the flame of his own passions, and passions that are rooted in various bodily drives, such as the drive to eat (hunger) and the sexual drive (lust) (cf. Supplement to the Russian translation from 1891, p. 23, in the note).
The man who truly loves the Lord and truly seeks the future Kingdom, the man who truly suffers for his sins and is truly filled with thoughts of torment and eternal judgment, the man who seriously fears at the thought of his death, is no longer able to take care of the possessions, money, and glory of this world, of parents, friends, brothers, or anything earthly. Having completely ceased to care about them, having hated every thought of them, even his own body, free from everything, carefree, he boldly follows Christ and constantly looks to heaven, expecting help from him, according to the words of David: My soul clings to you (Ps 62:9), and as another unforgettable one said: I have not grown weary of following you, nor have I desired the days or the rest of man, O Lord (Jer 17:16).
It is the greatest shame for us to think of something that cannot bring us any good in the hour of trouble, i.e. death, when we have already left all of the above to the call by which the Lord, not man, called us. This is exactly what the Lord said: to look back, and not be worthy of the Kingdom of Heaven (Luke 9:62).
Our Lord knows that we, beginners, easily fall, and that, living and meeting with worldly people, we easily return to the world. Therefore, to the one who said to him: " Permit me first to go and bury my father ," he replied: "Leave it; let the dead bury their own dead" (Mt 8:22).
After we have renounced the world, the demons advise us to praise the merciful and compassionate worldly people and to pity ourselves, as if by renouncing the world we had deprived ourselves of these virtues or virtues. The aim of our enemies, however, is to bring us back to the world through false humility, or, if we remain in monasticism, to plunge us into despair. It is one thing to despise those who live in the world out of conceit; but it is quite another to think badly of them after we have already left them, in order to avoid despair and gain the hope of salvation.
Let us hear, because the Lord said to the young man who had almost fulfilled all the commandments: One thing you lack, sell all you have and give to the poor (Luke 18:22; Matthew 19:21), and to become a poor man who receives alms. We, who long for ardent and fervent labor, should carefully consider how the Lord called all who dwell and live in the world dead, saying to someone: "Leave the spiritual dead, the worldly, let them bury the physical dead." That young man's wealth did not in the least hinder him from approaching baptism, and there is no reason when some think that for his sake the Lord commanded him to sell his wealth. As for us, monks, let such a testimony serve as the best proof of the greatest glory of our calling.
It is necessary to examine why people who live in the world and live in vigils and fasting, in toil and suffering, do not continue their former feat, which is false and false, when they leave the world and enter monasticism, that is, the arena where one's real worth is to be seen. I have seen many and very different shoots of virtue that such people have planted in the world, watered with the dirty water of vanity, hoeed with ostentation and fertilized with the manure of praise, how they quickly withered, transplanted into a barren land, where worldly people have no access, without the stinking water of vanity. Unfortunately, this is so: plants that need such moisture cannot bear fruit in the dry, waterless soil of monasticism.
He who has hated the world has escaped sorrow. And he who has remained attached to anything visible has not yet escaped sorrow. How can he not be sad when he has freed himself from what has become so attached to his heart! We should be prudent in all things. However, in this regard we need to be especially prudent. I have seen many people in the world who, thanks to worries, numerous obligations and lack of sleep, have saved themselves from the rage of their own body. However, having entered monasticism, freed from all previous worries and duties, they have soiled themselves in the most deplorable way with the movements of their bodies.
Let us beware, lest we be deceived into saying that we walk on a narrow and cramped path, when in reality we walk on a broad and spacious path. The narrow path is recognized by the toil of the stomach, the all-night standing or vigil, the limited intake of water, the scarcity of bread, the cleansing drink of shame, ridicule, mockery and scolding, cutting off one's desires, enduring insults, bearing contempt without murmuring; it is recognized by not getting angry when slandered, not getting angry when humiliated, if you are humble when condemned.
Blessed are those who follow the path shown here, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven! No one will enter the heavenly chamber crowned with glory unless he renounces the first, second, and third renunciations. I mean renunciation, first, of all things, people, parents; second, of one's own will; and third, of the conceit that accompanies obedience. Come out from among them and be separate, and be not touched with the filth of the world, says the Lord (Is 52:11). For who among them has ever performed any miracle? Who among them has raised the dead? Who has cast out demons? No one! All these are the trophies of monks, which the world cannot receive. If it could, then why the feat, why the departure from the world?!
When demons, after our renunciation of the world, begin to inflame our hearts with the memory of our parents and brothers, let us prepare for the battle through prayer, and kindle within ourselves the memory of the eternal fire, so that by remembering him we may extinguish the fire of our hearts, kindled in a storm. He is completely mistaken who thinks that he is not attached to anything and whose heart is saddened when he loses something.
When young people, inclined to carnal love and pleasures, wish to enter monasticism, they should be taught prudence and caution, and, as much as they can, to avoid all pleasure and all evil, so that the latter may not be worse for them than the former.
In the harbor one can find salvation, but also destruction. Those who sail the spiritual sea know this well. It is a sad sight when someone who had already been saved from the open sea suffers shipwreck in the harbor itself.
The second step. Whoever has managed to reach it, should continue running up the ladder, following the example of Lot, not his wife.
Alienation is the irreversible abandonment of everything in our homeland that opposes our aspiration to reach the goal of piety. It is humble behavior, hidden wisdom, intelligence that does not trumpet itself, hidden life, invisible goal, silent thinking, modesty in desires, longing for torture, foundation of longing for God, abundance of love, denial of vanity, depth of silence.
The lovers of the Lord are usually at first constantly, without interruption, like a divine flame, consumed by the thought of moving away from their own people for the sake of a life of want and anxiety. This thought especially stimulates lovers of such a good. However, this feat requires great caution, no matter how great and praiseworthy it may otherwise be. For not every act of alienation is good, especially not that which is done in the mood of the moment. If every prophet is without honor in his own country, as the Lord says (Mt 13:57), then we must be careful that alienation does not give us cause for conceit. For alienation is separation from everything in order to make thoughts inseparable from God. Alienation is a lover and worker of inconsolable weeping. Alienation is one who avoids all connection with his own or others.
When going to exile, do not wait for souls who love the world, for the thief comes unexpectedly: many who tried to save the lukewarm and wavering with them, perished with them, when, alongside them, the flame of their zeal was extinguished over time. If you feel a flame within you, run! You do not know when it will go out and leave you in darkness. We will not all be responsible for the salvation of others. The divine apostle Paul says: So then, brothers, each of us will give an account of himself to God (Rom 14:12); and further, again: Do you, then, who teach others, not teach yourself (Rom 2:21)? He seems to say: "Whether we will be responsible for others, I do not know; but we will all be responsible for ourselves."
When you withdraw from the world, beware of the pleasure-loving demon of wandering, for alienation gives him the opportunity to tempt us. Impartiality is a wonderful thing; alienation is its mother. When you withdraw from the world for the Lord's sake, you no longer need to maintain ties with it, lest you end up wandering around in order to satisfy your passions. When you have separated yourself from the world, do not touch it anymore, because passions easily return. Eve was driven out of paradise against her will, and the monk voluntarily leaves his homeland. She would like to taste again of the tree of disobedience, and he would inevitably be tempted by his relatives in the flesh. He flees from the opportunity for sin as from a whip, and the fruit that is not seen is not so desired. Do not forget that these cunning thieves also use this means to dissuade us from alienation: they advise us not to separate ourselves from worldly people, and tell us that we will deserve a great reward if we control ourselves despite looking at women. We should not listen to them, but do exactly the opposite.
When we, after the passage of a certain shorter or longer time since we left our own, acquire a certain little piety, kindness, restraint, vain thoughts approach and order us to return to our homeland, for the sake of instruction, they say, for the sake of example and the spiritual benefit of many people who have seen our lawless deeds. If we are also rich in the gift of oratory, and have some spiritual knowledge, the devils are already advising us to return to the world itself as teachers and saviors of souls, so that we may scatter on the open sea to our own destruction what we had happily collected in the port. Let's try to be like Lot, not like his wife (cf. Genesis 9:26). Because the soul that returns to where it came from will become like salt that has lost its taste (Mt 5:13), and will remain unable to progress.
Flee from Egypt with your head in your hands! The hearts that returned there did not see Jerusalem, the land of perfection.
There are those who, as minors, separated themselves from their own people and then purified themselves completely. They return to them with the intention of benefiting them and perhaps saving them, after they had saved themselves. However, even Moses, who saw God, who, after all, was sent by God Himself for the salvation of his fellow countrymen, endured many troubles in Egypt, that is, many dark hours in the world [1].
It is better to cause pain to parents than to the Lord, He created us and saved us, and parents often ruined their beloved children and handed them over to eternal torment.
A stranger is a person who lives as a stranger among people whose language he does not speak, although he understands it very well. We separate ourselves from our neighbors, or from certain places, not out of hatred, God forbid, but in order to avoid the harm that we might suffer with them, or in those places. As in all that is good, so in this also Christ is our teacher. We see that He also often leaves His parents in the flesh; and when He heard from some: 'Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, seeking to speak to you,' our good Lord and Teacher immediately showed impassioned hatred towards them, saying: Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, the same is my brother and sister and mother (Mt 12:46-50).
Let your father be a man who can and wants to suffer with you, in order to be relieved of the burden of your sins. And let your mother be an effort that can wash you from impurity. Let your brother be your co-worker and co-companion on the path that climbs up, to what is in heaven. Take the memory of death as your inseparable companion. And let your beloved children be the sighs of your heart. Let your body be your slave, and the holy heavenly powers your friends, who, if they become your friends, can be of use to you at the hour of the ascent of your soul. Such is the generation of those who seek the Lord (Ps 23:6).
The longing for God quenches the longing for parents. He who claims to have both is in error. It is said: No one can serve two masters (Mt 6:24). Do not think, says the Lord, that I have come to bring peace on earth, that is, peace between parents and children and brothers who want to serve me, but rather conflict and a sword (Mt 10:34), which will separate the lovers of God from those who love the world, the carnal from the spiritual, the ambitious from the humble in mind. For the Lord rejoices when conflict and separation occur because of love for Him.
Be careful, be very careful, lest you be overwhelmed by affection for your dear relatives, and lest you be drowned in the flood of love for this world. Do not allow yourself to be moved by the tears of your parents and friends, otherwise you will weep forever. When your own people surround you like bees, or rather wasps, and begin to mourn you, then with the eye of your soul immediately look at death and the deeds for which you will be judged, and do not even look back at your own, so that you may repel sorrow with sorrow. These of ours, not of ours, promise us cunningly that they will do for us everything we love. Their goal is to stop us on our good path, and then they would completely win us over to their plans.
When we withdraw from the world, we should choose the most humble place, where there is nothing to comfort us or to lead us to pride. Otherwise, we carry with us our passions.
Do not speak of your nobility, if you were a nobleman, and do not boast of your reputation, lest you be one in words and another in deeds.
No one has ever sojourned as the great one who heard, “ Go forth from your country, from your kindred, and from your father’s house” (Genesis 12:1), even though he was called to a strange and barbarous land. Sometimes the Lord glorifies even more those who imitate that great wanderer. However, although this glory is from God, it is good to guard oneself with the shield of humility.
When demons, and even people, praise us for our alienation as a great feat, let us think of Him who became an alien for our sake, coming down from heaven to earth, and we will find that we cannot repay Him even for ever and ever.
It is a very dangerous thing to have affection for any of our relatives or for other people, since it can, little by little, draw us into the world and completely extinguish the flame of our affection. Just as it is impossible to look at the sky with one eye and the earth with the other, so he who has not completely separated himself in soul and body from all relatives and non-relatives cannot help exposing his soul to great danger.
With great effort and struggle, an honest and orderly nature is acquired. However, what is acquired with great difficulty can be lost in a single vision. For evil conversations corrupt good manners (1 Cor 15:33), i.e. worldly and indecent conversations. Whoever, after renouncing the world, meets worldly people, or lives in their immediate vicinity, or is caught up in their nets, or defiles his heart by thinking about them, or, if he does not defile himself directly, condemns those who are dirty, and thus, indirectly, defiles himself.
About the dreams that beginners have
It cannot be concealed that the power of our reason is quite small, and that we are full of all ignorance. For as the throat distinguishes the taste of food, so the ear discerns thoughts through words; as the sun reveals the weakness of our eyes, so words reveal the ignorance of the soul. Nevertheless, the law of love compels us even to that which exceeds our power. Therefore it seems to me, although I do not assert it, that after the lesson on alienation, and even in it itself, something should be said about dreams, so that we may not be ignorant of this trickery of the cunning demons.
Dreaming is the movement of the mind while the body is still. Imagination is the deception of the eyes while the consciousness is asleep. Imagination is the extra-self of the mind while the body is awake; it is the observation of that which does not exist.
The reason why we decided to talk about dreams after the previous lesson is quite clear: when we, having left our home and our relatives for the sake of the Lord, give ourselves up to estrangement out of love for God, demons try to disturb us, presenting us with our relatives grieving, or how they die, or how they are imprisoned and robbed because of us. Therefore, the one who believes in dreams is like a man who runs after his shadow, trying to catch it.
Demons of vanity are prophets in dreams. In their cunning, by certain signs, they deduce what will happen, and inform us in advance, so that we may marvel when the visions in a dream are fulfilled in reality, and begin to think highly of ourselves as if we are already close to the gift of clairvoyance. Such a person often becomes a prophet in the eyes of those who believe in the demon. For those who despise the demon, such a person is always a liar. As a spirit, the demon sees what is happening in the air. Noticing that someone, for example, is dying, he predicts the event to the gullible in a dream. Demons, however, do not know anything about the future by prescience. After all, even doctors are able to predict death for us!
Demons often transform themselves into angels of light and take the form of martyrs, and in dreams they present to us how we approach them, that is, angels or martyrs. When we wake up, they fill us with joy and pride. Let this serve as a sign of deception. For angels, when they appear, show eternal torment, and the Last Judgment, and persecution from the Kingdom of God. Those who wake up from such a dream are filled with trembling and gloom.
If we begin to obey them in our sleep, the demons will mock us even when we are awake. A man who believes in dreams is completely inexperienced. A philosopher, on the other hand, is one who does not believe in them at all. Believe only those dreams that announce to you torment and Judgment. But if they lead you to despair, then they too are from demons.
The third step, equal in number to the Trinity. He who has climbed it, let him pay no attention to the right or the left.
1. Dark hours in the world: with this, the Laddermaster, with mild irony, dissuades monks from the temptation to return to the world "for the sake of the alleged benefit to their fellowmen". When even Moses could not avoid severe temptations in the world, returning from Horeb (Exodus 3, etc.), how will a monk who left the world because he considered himself perfectly incapable of resisting passions in the world avoid such, and even worse, evils?
ON BLESSED AND UNFORGETTABLE OBEDIENCE
Now it is time to speak about the warriors and athletes of Christ: every fruit is preceded by a flower, and every obedience by alienation, regardless of whether obedience is expressed only by the body or by the will. With these two virtues or virtues, as on golden wings, the holy soul quickly soars to heaven. Perhaps that spirit-bearer sang about her: Who will give me wings like a dove, that I may fly through action, and rest (Ps 54:7) in contemplation and humility?
We will not fail, if it is your will, to discover the very way of fighting of these brave warriors, i.e. how they hold the shield of faith in God and their spiritual leader, and how with it they repel, so to speak, every thought of disloyalty to their spiritual father and going to another place. We will also discover how these spiritual warriors kill every personal desire that approaches them, constantly brandishing the spiritual sword, and how, clad in the iron armor of meekness and obedience, they repel every insult and insult, and in general every arrow. The prayer cover of their spiritual father serves them as a saving helmet. They stand with their legs not quite together: one is always ready for service, and the other is motionless in prayer.
Obedience is the complete renunciation of one's soul, which is expressed in bodily actions; or conversely: obedience is the mortification of the limbs with a living mind. Obedience is the performance of duty without question. It is a voluntary death, a life without curiosity, without concern for dangers, an unprepared defense before God, the absence of fear of death, a safe voyage, walking in a dream. Obedience is the grave of the will, and the resurrection of humility. As if dead, the obedient one does not respond or think, whether it is about good things or about something that seems evil, because he who piously mortified his soul will be responsible for everything. Obedience is the giving up of reasoning with the abundance of reasoning.
The beginning of mortification, whether of the will or of our limbs, is painful; the middle is sometimes difficult, sometimes not; and the end is a complete insensibility to pain and the absence of all painful feeling. This blessed living dead man feels sorrow and pain in his heart only when he sees himself doing his will, for he fears only the responsibility for his own judgment.
You who are preparing for the scene of spiritual confession; you who want to put the yoke of Christ on your neck; you who from now on strive to shift your own burden onto the shoulders of others; you who are in a hurry to voluntarily sell yourselves into slavery, in order to receive true freedom in exchange; you who are swimming supported by the hands of others, in order to cross this endless ocean, know that you have set foot on a short and rocky path, on which lurks only one error called self-will. He who has completely renounced self-will, even in things that seem good, spiritual, and pleasing to God, has reached his goal before he has even taken a step. For obedience is disbelief in oneself in every good thing, until the end of life.
Before, moved by humility, we wish to bow our heads and entrust our salvation in the Lord entirely to another, and before we embark on a feat, if we possess any discernment and prudence, we should judge, examine and, so to speak, test our spiritual helmsman, so that we do not fall into the hands of a sailor instead of a helmsman, a sick person instead of a physician, a passionate person instead of a dispassionate person, and so that instead of being in a dock, we do not find ourselves at sea and suffer shipwreck. But once we have entered this arena of piety and submission, we must not judge our good teacher for anything more, even if we may perhaps see certain small faults in him as a man. Otherwise, judging, we will not benefit from submission.
Whoever wants to remain fearless in his trust in his spiritual father, must necessarily keep his virtues indelibly in his heart in constant remembrance, so that with this remembrance he can shut the mouths of demons when distrust of him begins to sow in him. In accordance with the increase of trust in the heart, the body itself becomes more diligent in performing its service. And when it stumbles over the stone of distrust, it falls! For, of course, everything that is not of faith is sin (Rom 14:23).
From the thought that suggests to you to examine or condemn your spiritual father, jump away as from fornication. Do not give that snake the slightest freedom, nor place, nor approach, nor beginning. Shout at the snake: "You deceiver! I am not over my father, but he has been given the right to judge over me. I am not over him, but he has been appointed as my judge."
The Fathers define the reading of the Psalms as a weapon, prayer as a rampart, and immaculate tears as a laver. They understand blessed obedience as confession, without which none of the sufferers will see the Lord [1].
The obedient person passes sentence on himself: if he obeys perfectly for the Lord's sake, he is freed from his own guilt even when he does not think he is perfectly obedient; but if he does his own will in anything, he bears responsibility for himself even when he thinks he is obedient. Besides, it would be useful if the spiritual father did not stop rebuking him. If he were to remain silent, I would not know what else to say about it.
Those who in their simplicity submit for the Lord's sake happily reach the goal of their journey, because they do not invite the wiles of the demons upon themselves by criticizing the spiritual father.
First of all, let us confess to our good judge, not only in private but also in front of everyone, if he commands. Wounds that are revealed not only do not get worse, but are also easier to heal.
Upon arriving at the monastery of the good judge and shepherd [2], I witnessed a terrible trial.
It happened, for instance, while I was there, that a certain robber came to dedicate himself to the monastic life. That excellent shepherd and physician ordered that the robber should enjoy complete rest for seven days, and only observe how the family lived. When those seven days were over, the shepherd called him aside and asked him privately if he liked living with them. And seeing that he had quite sincerely agreed to it, he asked him again what sinful thing he had done in the world. The robber immediately confessed everything, down to the smallest detail. Seeing this, the shepherd, wishing to test him, said to him: "I want you to confess it publicly, in front of the entire brotherhood." But the latter, truly hating his sin and despising all shame, promised without hesitation, and said: "If you wish, even in the midst of the city of Alexandria."
Then the shepherd gathered all his sheep, three hundred and thirty of them, into the church, and during the divine liturgy (it was Sunday), and after the reading of the Gospel, he ordered that the blameless condemned man be brought in, who, with his hands tied behind his back, dressed in a sack of hair and with ashes on his head, was being dragged by some brothers and struck from time to time. At this sight, everyone recoiled and immediately burst into tears, for no one knew what was really happening. And when the robber approached the church door, that holy and philanthropic head cried out to him in a loud voice: "Stop! You are unworthy to enter here!" Frightened by the shepherd's voice coming to him from the altar, because it seemed to him, as he later assured us under oath, that he heard thunder and not a human voice, the robber immediately fell prostrate, trembling with fear and bewildered. As he lay thus on the ground and sprinkled the ground with his tears, the miraculous physician, who was doing all this for his salvation, showing everyone how to be saved and what active humility is, again commanded him to tell in detail before everyone everything he had done. And he, trembling, confessed, one by one, all his sins, scandalous even to the ear: not only natural and unnatural sins of the flesh, with human beings and with animals, but even witchcraft, murders and other crimes about which it is not fitting to either hear or write. Immediately after this confession, the shepherd ordered the robber to be tonsured and received into the brotherhood.
Marveling at the wisdom of this God-pleasing man, I asked him privately why he had used such an unusual method of treatment. And the true physician said: "For two reasons: first, to save the penitent himself from future shame by means of present shame. And this happened, for he did not rise from the floor, brother John, until he had received the forgiveness of all his sins. Do not doubt it. One brother who was there assured me, saying: "I saw a terrible man holding a piece of paper and a pen. And as soon as the penitent uttered any sin, he would immediately cross it out with his pen." And it is true: I said, I will confess my iniquity to the Lord, and you forgave the wickedness of my heart (Ps 31:5). And secondly, I wanted thereby to arouse to confession those who do not confess all their sins in the monastery, since without confession no one will receive forgiveness."
I saw in that unforgettable shepherd and in his flock many other things worthy of admiration and eternal memories, most of which I will try to show you. I stayed with them for quite some time, carefully following their way of life, beside myself with admiration at how earthly people imitate heavenly beings!
The love between them was truly an indissoluble bond. What is even more beautiful, it was free from all indecency in expression and all gossip. And, above all, they learned not to offend the conscience of their brother in anything. If someone appeared who hated another, the shepherd would expel him as a transgressor to a separate monastery. On one occasion, a brother slandered his neighbor in his presence. The God-pleasing one immediately ordered the slanderer to be expelled, saying that both the visible and invisible devils could not coexist in a monastery.
I saw in these God-pleasing ones truly useful and admirable things: a brotherhood that the Lord had gathered and united, rich in miraculous actions and insights. For they themselves so practiced and trained the divine virtues that they hardly needed the admonitions of their superiors. They, of their own accord, encouraged one another to divine vigilance.
There were, for example, certain sacred and divine customs established among them, customary and established. For example, if it happened that one of them, in the absence of the superior, began to slander, or to condemn, or in general to speak in vain, another brother would admonish and calm him with an imperceptible wink. If perhaps the latter did not notice this, the brother who had admonished him would, having made obeisance, depart. When it became necessary to say something, the memory of death and the thought of the Eternal Judgment were their constant and eternal subject of conversation.
I will not fail to describe to you the extraordinary virtue of the cook there. Noticing that he was constantly thinking and crying during his service, I asked him to tell me how he had earned such grace. Forced by my request, he replied: "I have never thought of serving people, but God. In addition, I have come to the conclusion that I am not worthy of the feat of solitude, and it is enough for me to just look into the fire and imagine the future, eternal fire."
Let us hear something about another rare virtue of theirs. They did not stop engaging in mental activity even during the meal itself. In a certain established manner and with barely noticeable signs, these blessed fathers reminded each other of mental prayer. And they did this not only during the meal but also at every meeting and gathering. If one of them sometimes committed some transgression, the brothers begged him to leave the responsibility before the shepherd and the punishment to them. Hence the great shepherd, knowing the custom of his disciples, imposed lighter punishments, certain that the punished person was not guilty. Moreover, he did not even investigate who actually committed the transgression.
There could never be a mention of joking among them. If anyone started a dispute with a neighbor, the others present would appease their anger with gifts. And if he noticed that they were ill-tempered, he would inform the abbot, so that he could persuade them to reconcile before the sun went down. If, however, they remained stubborn in their stubbornness, then they would be forbidden to take food until they were reconciled, or they would be expelled from the monastery. This commendable severity was not practiced in vain among them, but it bore and showed abundant fruit: for many of these God-pleasing monks became famous as workers and observers, as judicious and humble in mind.
Among them one could also see a terrible, but angelic appearance: venerable elders and holy elders who run to obedience as if they were children, old men for whom the greatest praise is in humility. I also saw people there who had been in obedience for about fifty years. I asked them to teach me what success they had achieved with so much effort. Some said that they had descended into the abyss of humble mind, by which all struggle was forever interrupted; others said that they had acquired perfect insensitivity and insensibility to reproaches and insults.
I saw others among these unforgettable eyes, adorned with whiteness as if they were angels, who had reached a state of the deepest non-maliciousness and overly wise simplicity, achieved consciously, with God's help. For while a bad man is twofold, one outwardly and the other inwardly, a simple man is not twofold, but represents something unique. This simplicity of theirs was not foolish and meaningless like that of those old people in the world who are often called evaporated. Outwardly they were quite pleasant, attractive, cheerful. In speech and behavior they were natural, unartificial, unadulterated (a thing that is not found in many). And inside, in their souls, like innocent children, they were devoted with their whole being to their God and guardian, looking with a bold and firm spiritual eye at demons and passions.
Even a lifetime will not be enough for me, venerable father and God-loving congregation, to describe the virtue and godless life of these blessed people. However, it is better to decorate this writing of ours with a description of their laborious exploits, and thereby to incite in you a God-loving zeal, than to fill it with our own advice. It is beyond all dispute that what is worse is only embellished with what is better. But I would ask you one more thing: do not think that any of what is written here is invented. For distrust usually destroys all benefit. But let us return to our narrative.
A certain man, named Isidore, who belonged to the noble class of the city of Alexandria, had retired to the aforementioned monastery some time ago. I also found him there. Having received him, the God-pleasing shepherd noticed that he was a completely corrupt, rude, wicked and depraved man. The wise man then decided to outwit the cunning demon with human cunning, and said to Isidore: "If you have really decided to bear the yoke of Christ, I want you to first of all practice obedience." And the latter said: "Like iron to a blacksmith, so I, holy father, surrender myself to you for obedience." And the great father, appeased by this comparison, immediately assigned a feat to the iron Isidore, and said: "I want you, my beloved, to stand at the gate of the monastery, and to bow down to the ground to everyone who enters or leaves, saying: Pray for me, father, for a demon is in me." And this one obeyed him like an angel of the Lord.
After he had spent seven years in this way and had attained the deepest humility and affection, the illustrious father decided that, after he had endured the prescribed seven-year trial with unparalleled courage, he would be received into the brotherhood as more than worthy and would be ordained. But Isidore, both through others and through me, who was powerless, begged the shepherd to allow him to complete his feat in the same place, somehow mysteriously hinting at his end and his call to the other world. And so it happened. For when his teacher left him in the same place, after ten days he went to the Lord, through humiliation to glory, taking with him a week later the monastery gatekeeper. For the blessed one had said to the gatekeeper: "If I gain freedom from the Lord, you will soon be inseparable with me there too." This happened, as the greatest proof of his unashamed obedience and God-following humility.
I asked that great Isidore, while he was still alive, what his mind was occupied with while he stood before the gate. And the unforgettable ascetic did not hide it from me, wishing to benefit me. "At first I imagined that I had been sold as a slave for my sins, and I made offerings with much bitterness, effort, and strength. After a year, my heart no longer felt pain, expecting from God Himself a reward for my suffering. When another year had passed, I felt with all my heart that I was not worthy to live in a monastery, to see the fathers and talk with them and look them in the face, nor to partake of the Holy Mysteries. And with shame, casting my eyes to the ground, and my thoughts even lower, I already sincerely begged those who entered and went out to pray to God for me."
Once, when I was sitting at table with the great abbot, he leaned his holy mouth against my ear and said to me: "Do you want me to show you divine wisdom in the deepest old age?" And when I asked him for it, he called from the other table a monk named Lavrentius, who had spent about forty-eight years in the monastery by then and was the second in rank of a priest. He came and, bowing to the abbot to the ground, received a blessing from him. However, when he got up, the abbot said nothing to him, but left him standing by the table, without eating. Lunch had just begun. He stood like that for a good hour, or even two, that I was already ashamed to look into the face of that ascetic. He was an old man in his eighties, all gray. He remained like that, without a response from the abbot, until the end of the meal. And when we had risen, the God-pleasing one sent him to the aforementioned great Isidore, to recite to him the beginning of the thirty-ninth Psalm [3].
And I, the most cunning, did not miss the opportunity to question the elder. And when I asked him what he was thinking about while he was standing at the table, he answered me: "Imagining that instead of the shepherd I was looking at the image of Christ, I did not for a moment think that I was receiving a command from him as a man, but from God. Therefore, Father John, I stood not as before a human table, but as before the altar of God, praying to God without any bad thought about the shepherd, with trust and full of love for him. For, someone said that love does not think evil (1 Cor 13:5). Besides, know this too, father: the wicked no longer have a place for a moment in a man who surrenders to simplicity and voluntary ignorance of evil."
As that shepherd of the spiritual sheep was, so the righteous Lord sent him the monastery steward. That man was as honest as no other and as meek as few. On one occasion, for the benefit of the others, the great elder seemed to be angry with him, apparently without any reason, and ordered him to be thrown out of the church before the end of the service. And I, knowing that the man was not guilty of what the shepherd had accused him of, when I was left alone with the elder, took the steward under my protection. But the wise man said to me: "I know it too, father! But, just as it would be unjust and sad to take bread from the mouth of a hungry child, so the teacher of souls does injustice both to himself and to the ascetic when he does not give him the opportunity to earn the laurel wreath, knowing that by enduring insults, contempt, whisperings and ridicule he can earn it at any moment. This leads to a threefold and very significant harm: first, the superintendent himself is exempted from the reward for pronouncing a punishment or penance; second, the superintendent did not use the virtue of one for the benefit of the others, although he could have; third, and most seriously, even those who appear steadfast and patient, neglected for a certain time as ostensibly good in their actions, without admonition and without reproof from the superintendent, often remain without the benefit and suffering they have gained. For no matter how good, fertile and fat the land may be, the lack of the water of humiliation causes it to go wild and the thorns of pride, fornication and ignorance of the fear of God to sprout from it. Knowing this, the great apostle Paul wrote to Timothy: Reprove, rebuke, rebuke in season and out of season (cf. 2 Tim 4:2).
And when I objected to this, pointing out the weakness of our generation, as well as the fact that many might perhaps turn away from the flock due to unjustified as well as justified reprimands from the shepherd, the true guide, as a man full of wisdom, said to me: "The soul that for the sake of Christ is bound to the shepherd with love and trust, does not depart from him until the last drop of blood, especially if it has healed its wounds with his help, remembering the one who said: Neither angels, nor principalities, nor powers ... nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of Christ (Rom 8:38-39). And if the soul has not in this way been bound, strengthened and attached to the shepherd, then I am surprised that such a man does not spend his time in that place in vain, bound to the shepherd with false and apparent obedience."
And really, the great man was not mistaken. On the contrary, he kept the sheep in his flock, taught them and perfected them, and offered them to Christ as a sacrifice without blemish. Let us hear, and let us admire the wisdom of God, which is found in earthen vessels!
While there, I admired the faith and patience of some of the novices, and the invincible firmness with which they bore the severity not only of the abbot but also of certain monks much lower than him. In order to learn something, I turned to one of those brothers, who had spent fifteen years in the monastery, named Avakir. He, I noticed, was the most abused by almost everyone: the refectories drove him out of the refectory almost every day, since by nature he was a little intemperate with his tongue. And I said to him: "Brother Avakir, why do I see that they throw you out of the refectory every day, and that you often go to bed without dinner?" And he answered me: "Believe me, father, the fathers test me to see if I am a true monk. They do not do this truly. And so I also bear everything easily, since I know the goal of the great father and all the others. And now, for fifteen years, I have lived with this thought. After all, they themselves told me when I entered the family that those who have renounced the world are tested until they reach the age of thirty. And it is true, Father Ivan: gold cannot be pure until it is melted in fire.'' Having lived another two years after my arrival at that monastery, this virtuous Avakir departed to be with the Lord, saying to the fathers on his deathbed, before he breathed his last: ''Thanks, thanks to the Lord and to you! Because, for the sake of my salvation, you have tempted me, and for seventeen years now the demon has not tempted me''! The shepherd, as a righteous judge, rightly ordered that Avakir be buried as a confessor, with the saints who rest there.
I would do injustice to all who strive for good if I buried in the grave of silence the virtue and feat of Macedonia, the first among the deacons there. Once, two days before the feast of the Holy Epiphany, this holy ascetic, completely devoted to the Lord, begged permission from the shepherd to go on some business of his own to the city of Alexandria. In addition, of course, he promised that he would return from the city as soon as possible, because of the proximity of the feast and the necessary preparations. However, the devil, the hater of good, prevented the archdeacon, who had been dismissed with a blessing by the abbot, from arriving at the monastery for the holy feast at the time the abbot had set for him. When he arrived a day later, the shepherd forbade him from serving and assigned him a place among the last novices. The good deacon of patience and archdeacon of perseverance received the command of his father, and did so as calmly as if someone else, not he, was being punished. After he had spent forty days in such a position, the wise shepherd restored him to his former rank. But, as soon as a day had passed, the archdeacon began to humbly beg him to remain under the penalty or penance and the original punishment of loss of honor, telling him that he had “committed an unpardonable sin in the city.” The God-pleasing one knew that he was not telling the truth, but he did according to the ascetic’s just wish, since he had asked for it out of humility. There was something to be seen: the venerable old man stood in the line of novices and sincerely begged everyone to pray for him. “I have fallen,” he said, “into the fornication of disobedience.” And to me, the wretched one, this great Macedonian confided the reason why he voluntarily returned to the last place: “I have never felt within myself such relief from every struggle and such sweetness of divine light, as now.” It is characteristic of angels not to fall (some even think that they cannot fall at all); it is human to fall, and to rise as quickly as possible, no matter how many times one falls; and it is characteristic of demons, and only of them, that when they fall they never rise again.
The monastery steward confided in me the following: "When I was young and tending the cattle, it happened that I fell into the most serious downfall of my soul. However, since I was accustomed to never hiding a snake in the depths of my heart, I grabbed this snake by the tail and showed it to the doctor. (By tail I mean the end of evil deeds). And he, with a smile on his face, lightly patted me on the cheek and said: "Be at peace, my child! Perform your service as before and do not be afraid of anything"! And I received this with fervent faith, and within just a few days I was convinced that I was cured, and I continued my journey with joy and fear".
All created beings, as some believe, were created to differ from one another. Thus, even in that brotherhood, there were differences in the degree of progress and knowledge achieved. When he noticed that some brothers liked to act important when worldly people visited the monastery, the doctor would, right in the presence of the guests, shower them with the most severe insults and assign them the lowest tasks, so that later they would quickly flee if they saw anyone from the world coming to visit. It was interesting to see how vanity pursues itself and hides itself from people!
A week before my departure from that holy place, the Lord took a godly father to Himself, not wanting to release me from his prayers. He was a wonderful man, named Mina, second in rank to the abbot, who had lived in that monastery for fifty-nine years and had gone through all the duties. On the third day after his death, while I was performing the usual rule for the repose of the godly, suddenly the entire place where he was laid was filled with a wonderful fragrance. The great one ordered us to open the coffin in which the body of the godly lay. And when we did so, we all saw fragrant myrrh flowing from his venerable feet, as from two springs. Then the teacher said to everyone: "Do you see? Behold, the sweat of his labors and efforts has been offered to God as myrrh"! Yes, exactly like that!
The fathers of that place also told us about many other virtues of this God-pleasing Mina. Among other things, they told this: once the abbot decided to test his God-given patience. Mina came to the abbot's cell and made an evening obeisance before the abbot, asking him, as was customary, for the rule. However, the abbot left him lying on the ground until the morning service. Then he blessed him and raised him up, after having previously scolded him as a conceited and intolerant man. The God-pleasing Mina knew that he would endure it bravely, and therefore he carried it out, as a lesson to all. A disciple of the God-pleasing Mina convincingly told us this detail about his teacher: "I curiously asked him if he had not fallen asleep while he was lying face down before the abbot. And he revealed to me that he had read the entire Psalter by heart while he was lying on the ground."
I will not fail to decorate the wreath of lessons with a real emerald.
I once had a conversation with some of these most honorable elders about loneliness. Kindly and with a smile on their faces, they humorously told me: "Father Ivan, we are of the flesh, and we lead a life that suits the flesh, because we have determined in advance that the type of struggle should be chosen according to the measure of our weakness. We therefore calculate that it is better to fight with people who sometimes get angry, but who are able to repent for it, than with demons, who are always furious and ready to attack us."
And another elder, having great divine love for me and close in his dealings with me, said to me kindly: "If you, wiser than all men, possess in the depths of your soul the energy of him who said: I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Phil 4:13); if the Holy Spirit has sprinkled you with the dew of purity as He sprinkled the Virgin Mary; if the power of the Most High, the power of suffering, has overshadowed you, gird yourself like Christ the God-man, gird your loins with the towel of obedience, and rising from supper in silence, with a contrite spirit, wash the feet of the brethren. Or rather, throw yourself with a humble spirit at the feet of the brotherhood. Place strict and sleepless guards at the door of your heart. Let your mind be steadfast in an unstable body. Exercise your mind in silence, even though you feel movement and restlessness in your limbs. What is most difficult of all, remain calm in your soul even in the midst of the greatest turmoil. Tie up the quick tongue, which madly wants to contradict; fight this despot seventy times seven a day. Nail the mind to the cross of the soul as an anvil is fastened to a stump, so that, beaten with the frequent blows of the hammer of mockery, scolding, ridicule and insult, it may remain not at all broken or weakened, but completely smooth and intact. Strip off your will as a shameful garment, and thus naked enter the fight. Do what is rarely done and not easily encountered: put on the armor of faith, which cannot be broken or pierced by distrust of a spiritual father; with the bridle of prudence, tame the sense of touch, which rises shamelessly; with the contemplation of death, restrain the eyes, which would like to gaze at the beauty and greatness of the earth at all times; calm the curious mind, which would like to condemn a brother as careless, by caring for itself, sincerely loving your neighbors and completely sympathizing with them. Dear father, by this everyone will truly know that you are a disciple of Christ, if mutual love reigns in the community. Come, come (said my good friend again), come and live with us! Drink every moment of the water of humiliation as if it were living water, since David, having tasted every sweetness under heaven, after all, as if in some perplexity, said: Behold, how good and how excellent! Nothing else than when brothers dwell together in unity (Ps 123:1). So, if we have not yet been made worthy of the treasure of such suffering and obedience, it is good if, recognizing our weakness and living in solitude far from the ascetic scene, we praise the ascetics and pray that God will grant them suffering.
The words of that good father and excellent teacher, who argued with us in an evangelical and prophetic, or more accurately, friendly manner, completely won me over, and we agreed that without any doubt, priority belongs to obedience.
Recalling yet another useful virtue of these blessed fathers, I seem to have emerged from paradise, and I will once again propose to you my ugly and useless thorny speech.
The blessed shepherd often noticed, while we stood in prayer, that some were talking. He punished such people by making them stand in front of the church for a week, ordering them to bow to everyone who entered and left the church. What is even more unusual, he even punished clerics, i.e. presbyters, in this way!
I noticed that one brother during the service stood with much more emotion in his heart than many others, and that especially at the beginning of the singing, by certain peculiar gestures and facial expressions, one could see that he was talking to someone. I asked him the reason for his blessed custom. And he understood that it would be useful if he did not hide his secret, and he said: "I have been accustomed, Father Ivan, from the very beginning to gather my thoughts and mind with my soul, and, gathering them, to call: Come, let us bow down and fall before Christ, our King and God"!
Watching the waiter, I saw that he had a small notebook hanging from his belt. I caught him writing down his thoughts every day, and then confessing all this to the shepherd. And not only him, but I saw many others acting in the same way. I heard that this was established by order of the great shepherd himself.
Once, this shepherd expelled from the monastery a brother who had slandered his neighbor in front of him, calling him a nag and a chatterbox. The expelled brother endured seven days standing before the monastery gate, humbly begging for forgiveness and permission to re-enter. When the humane abbot learned of this and was informed that the expelled brother had not tasted anything for six whole days, he told him: "If you really want to live in the monastery, I will assign you a place among the penitents." And since the penitent gladly accepted this, the shepherd ordered him to be taken to a special monastery for those who mourn their sins, which was immediately done.
And, since we remembered the aforementioned monastery, we will briefly say something about it.
One stadia from the great monastery was a place called the Dungeon, made without any comfort. There you could never see fire, nor wine, nor oil for eating, nor anything else except bread and some vegetables. There the abbot imprisoned those who, after entering the monastery, had fallen into passion again without the right to leave, and not together, but each one separately and apart, or at most two by two, until God would inform him about each one. He also appointed a great abbot over them, named Isaac, who demanded almost constant prayer from all who were entrusted to him. To dispel laziness, despondency, or melancholy, they had a large supply of green branches for weaving baskets.
Such was the way of life, such was the order, such was the feat of those who truly seek the face of the God of Jacob (cf. Ps. 23:6). It is a good thing to admire the sufferings of these saints; it is even better to follow their path of salvation; but to want to attain their holy life at once is a foolish and impossible thing.
Driven by remorse, let us come to our senses, until the Lord, seeing how much we strive and flee to Him, blots out our sins and turns the pain that tears our heart into joy. For in the multitude of my sorrows in my heart, your consolations have delighted my soul (Ps 93:19). At the appropriate time, let us not forget the one who says to the Lord: No matter how great and terrible my sufferings were, you returned to me and revived me, and from the abyss of the earth, after my fall, you raised me up again (Ps 70:20). Blessed is he who for God's sake endures reproach and humiliation every day, and manages to overcome himself! He will rejoice with the martyrs and will freely speak with angels. Blessed is the monk who at every moment considers himself deserving of all contempt and mockery! Blessed is he who has completely mortified his will and transferred all his care for himself to his Master in the Lord, for he will stand at the right hand of the Crucified!
He who rejects reproof, whether just or unjust, rejects his salvation; but he who accepts it, with or without pain, will quickly receive forgiveness of his sins.
Show your faith and love for your spiritual father to God spiritually, and God will reveal your affection to your father in a mysterious way. Then, sensing your devotion, he will acknowledge you and become your friend.
Whoever reveals every snake to his spiritual father shows that he truly trusts him; and whoever hides anything is still wandering in the wilderness.
Each of us will recognize brotherly love and true love within ourselves only when we find ourselves crying over our brother's defeat and sincerely rejoicing over his successes and gracious gifts.
Whoever persistently tries to impose his opinion, even if it is correct, in conversation with other people should understand that he is suffering from the devil's disease. If he does this in conversation with his equals, perhaps the punishment of his elders can still cure him; however, his disease of people will not be able to cure him if he behaves in the same way in front of those who are older and wiser than him.
He who is not obedient in word is certainly not obedient in deed. For he who is unfaithful in little things, that is, in word, is also incorrigible in deed. He labors in vain, for he gains nothing from holy submission except his own condemnation.
He who has calmed or humbled his conscience to the greatest extent through submission to his spiritual father, awaits death day after day like a dream, or better yet, like life, and is not afraid, for he knows for certain that at the moment of his departure from this world, it will not be he who will be asked to give an account, but his spiritual father.
Whoever in the Lord has voluntarily accepted some duty from his father, and then unexpectedly stumbles, let him not attribute the blame to the one who gave the weapon, but to the one who received the weapon, because it was given to him to fight the enemy, and not to turn him against himself. And whoever has forced himself for the Lord's sake, and has drawn the attention of his spiritual father to his inability, let him have no worry, for even if he falls, he will not perish.
My friends, I failed to bring before you another delicacy of virtue or virtue: I saw, namely, such followers in the Lord who insulted and humiliated themselves for the sake of God, so that they would be ready to receive insults from outside, accustomed not to they fear humiliation.
A soul that constantly thinks about confession is, as if by a bridle, prevented from sinning, because the sins we do not confess we commit without any fear.
We truly understand what true obedience is only when, in the absence of our spiritual father, we imagine his image, thinking that he is before us, and we avoid every conversation, or word, or food, or sleep, or anything else that, in our opinion, could be unpleasant to him. For false disciples rejoice in the absence of their teacher, while true disciples consider it a loss.
I asked one of the most experienced ascetics to explain to me how humility is acquired in obedience. And he said: "Even if he were to raise the dead, acquire the gift of tears, and attain liberation from spiritual struggle, a prudent obedient man would attribute everything to the effect of the prayer of his spiritual father, and vain conceit is alien and far from him. How could he be conceited because of what he himself thinks he has done with the help of another and not by his own strength? The solitary man, however, does not have such a humble thought at his disposal. Conceit finds justification before him, instilling in him that he has achieved all these successes by his own merit.
When he avoids two errors, the one who is in obedience remains an eternally obedient servant of Christ.
The demon tries to sometimes soil the obedient with the impurities of the body and to make them cold and unusually restless. Sometimes he makes them somewhat dry and barren, careless of prayer, dreamy and sullen, in order to induce them to give up the feat, because they supposedly see no benefit from obedience, but even go backwards. He does not allow them to understand that the imagined taking away from us of what seems to us to be good often becomes the occasion for the deepest humility of the mind. Some, often, have patiently repelled the aforementioned deceiver. But this one has not yet stopped speaking, and soon after that another messenger stands before us and tries to deceive us in another way. I have known obedients who, thanks to the care of their spiritual father, have become full of affection, so kind, restrained, diligent, calm, ardent. The demons, however, approached them and sowed in their souls the thought that they were already ripe for solitude and capable of reaching the highest degree of perfection and dispassion in that feat. And they, deceived, set sail from the harbor into the open sea. And when a storm surprised them, they, without a helmsman, cowardly exposed themselves to a miserable ruin in that dirty and salty sea.
It is necessary for the sea to be stirred up and become wild, so that all the mud, grass and all the rot that the rivers of passion have brought into it will be thrown back onto the land. Let's take a good look: we will find that after the storm there is a great calm on the sea.
He who sometimes listens to his father and sometimes does not listen to him is like a man who sometimes puts salve on his eye, sometimes not slaked lime. For one builds, and another tears down; what benefit is there in that except the work itself (Sir 34:23)?
O obedient son of the Lord, let not the spirit of pride deceive you, and do not tell your sins to the teacher as in the third person. For without shame one cannot be freed from shame. Show your injury freely to the doctor. Do not be ashamed, say: "This is my wound, father. This is my scar. No one else made it but my own carelessness. No one else is to blame, neither man, nor spirit, nor body, nor anything else, but only my negligence."
At confession, be like a condemned man both in outward appearance and in the depths of your soul: bow down to no one and, if possible, wash the feet of the judge and physician with your tears as if they were Christ's. Demons often have the habit of advising us either not to confess at all, or to confess in the third person, or to shift the blame for our own sin onto others. The statement that everything depends on habit and is followed by it, if only it is true, can first be applied to the virtues, which have God as their great collaborator. If from the very beginning you surrender your soul to all kinds of humiliations, you will not struggle, my son, for a long time to feel blessed peace within yourself. Do not hesitate to confess your sins to the father who helps you to be saved, as to God, with the deepest humility. I have seen the condemned men soften the severity of the judge by their pitiful demeanor, their frank confession, and their supplication on their knees, and transform his anger into mercy. And John the Baptist required those who came to him to confess before baptism (cf. Mt 3:6; Mk 1:5), not because he himself needed their confession, but because he cared about their salvation. We should not be surprised if we find ourselves in a struggle even after confession, for it is better to fight against impurities than against pride. Do not be carried away and carried away by stories about solitary fathers and hermits, for you are marching in the army of the first martyrs [4]. Even when you fall, do not flee from the scene, for that is when we need a doctor the most. He who stumbles on a stone, despite the help of a guide, would certainly not only stumble but also perish without his help.
When temptation overwhelms us, the demons immediately approach. Seizing on this as a convenient, but in fact completely inappropriate, occasion, they advise us to abandon ourselves to solitude. The aim of our enemies is to add another wound to our fall.
When a doctor says he can't cure us, we should go to someone else. Because, without a doctor, hardly anyone has ever been cured. Who will then think to contradict us when we claim that a ship that has suffered a shipwreck even with an experienced helmsman, would have to sink without a helmsman anyway?
From obedience comes humility, from humility comes dispassion. If it is precisely in our humility that the Lord remembered us and delivered us from our enemies (Ps 135:23-24), nothing prevents us from saying that through humility comes dispassion, in which humility achieves its purpose. For dispassion begins with humility, just as the Law begins with Moses. And the daughter perfects the mother, as Mary the synagogue [5].
Every punishment from God is deserved by the sick who, before their final healing, leave their first physician, even though they have been treated by him and felt improvement, and begin to value another more. Do not flee from the hands of the one who brought you to the Lord. For, throughout your entire life, you need to respect no one else as much as him.
It is not without danger for an inexperienced soldier to separate himself from the mass of fighters and engage in individual combat. It is also not without danger for a monk to embark on a feat of solitude before he has undergone basic training and gained great experience in the struggle against the passions of the soul. The former exposes himself to physical dangers, and the latter to spiritual dangers. Two are better than one, says the Scripture (Ecclesiastes 4:9); i.e., it is good for a son to fight against his passions together with his father, with the participation of the Spirit of God. Whoever deprives the blind of a guide, the flock of a shepherd, the wandering of a guide, the child of a father, the sick of a doctor, and the ship of a helmsman exposes himself to danger. And whoever engages in the struggle with evil spirits without help becomes their victim.
Those who come to the sanatorium for the first time, let them say what ails them. And those who have dedicated themselves to obedience, let them show appropriate humility. A sure sign of healing is, in the former, the alleviation of pain, and in the latter, as nothing else, an increase in self-condemnation. Let your conscience be the mirror of obedience. That will be enough for you.
Those who carry out the feat in silence or solitude in obedience to a spiritual father have demons, and only demons, as their opponents. And those who are in community, have to fight not only with demons but also with people. Since they are constantly under the teacher's gaze, the former carry out his commands more carefully; while the latter, often, in the teacher's absence, slightly violate his commands. However, if some of them are diligent and hardworking, by enduring abuse they more than sufficiently compensate for the deficiency and receive a double crown.
Living in brotherhood, let us pay all possible attention to our salvation. In a harbor full of ships, collisions can easily occur, especially those that anger, like a worm, secretly eats away.
We should try to behave in the presence of our spiritual father as if we knew nothing, and to be extremely silent. For a silent man is a son of philosophy, who acquires great knowledge at every step, wherever he turns. I have seen a follower interrupt his spiritual father's story, and I began to despair of his obedience, seeing how it made him arrogant rather than humble.
With the utmost prudence and vigilance we should assess when and how to prioritize duty over prayer. Of course, a person cannot be torn apart in all directions.
Be careful when you meet your brothers, and do not try to appear more righteous than them in any way. Otherwise you will do two evils: you will hurt them by your artificial and false zeal, and you will give yourself every reason for pride.
Have zeal in your soul, without showing it in any way by body, appearance, word, or any mysterious behavior. And do this only after you have ceased to underestimate your neighbor. But if you are incontinent in this respect, be like your brothers in all things, and do not stand out in anything by your conceit.
I saw an inexperienced disciple boasting to some people about the virtues of his teacher. Thinking that he would become famous himself through the fame of others, he exposed himself to shame when everyone said to him: "Well, how can such a fruitful tree have such a barren branch on it?"
We can be considered tolerant not when we bravely endure scolding only from our father, but when we endure humiliation and insult from every man. For we endure everything from our father out of respect and because we feel indebted to him.
Drink scorn eagerly, like the water of life, from every man who wants to give it to you. For it is a medicine that cleanses from fornication. Then the sun of deep purity will be born in your soul, and the light of God will not leave your heart.
Whoever sees the brotherhood being humiliated because of him, let him not boast in his soul, since thieves are all around us. Engrave deeply in the memory of Him who said: And you, when you have done all that is commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants; we have done what was our duty to do (Luke 17:10). We will learn the judgment of our deeds at the hour of death.
The monastery is heaven on earth. Angels serve the Lord. We should also organize our hearts in this way. Those who are in this heaven sometimes have hearts like stone; sometimes, again, they are comforted by affection, so that they avoid pride and soften their suffering with tears.
A small fire softens a large amount of wax. So too, a small insult that is often inflicted on us, all the cruelty, insensitivity, and hardness of heart suddenly softens, sweetens, and completely eradicates.
I once saw two men where, hidden, they watched the torments and listened to the sighs of the ascetics. However, one did this in order to emulate the ascetics, and the other to reveal them at an opportune moment with a rebuke and thus turn the servant of God away from his virtue. Do not be imprudently silent and thus bring others into confusion and resentment. Do not even be sluggish in your behavior and walk when you are commanded to hurry. Otherwise, you will be worse than crazy and deranged. I once saw souls who suffered from such laxity by nature, and some were arranged. And I was amazed, said Job, how diverse human corruption is (cf. Job 22:5).
One who lives in a community will not be able to benefit as much from reading the Psalms as from prayer, because if any confusion arises, the Psalms are finished.
Constantly fight with your thoughts, and when they begin to wander, gather them to yourself. For God does not require from his followers a completely concentrated prayer. Therefore, do not be disheartened when you feel robbed, but be afraid if you have to constantly call your mind to yourself [6]. He who has decided in the depths of his soul not to abandon the struggle until his last breath, and not to retreat even at the cost of a thousand deaths of body and soul, will not easily fall into either. For doubt in the heart and distrust of a particular place of asceticism always lead to stumbling and misfortune. Those who are inclined to move from one monastery to another cannot be well in either, because nothing makes the soul so barren as impatience.
If you have come to an unknown doctor and to an unknown hospital, be like a passerby, and secretly observe the experience of all who are there. And when you feel that you have benefit from these masters and their assistants for your illnesses, and especially what is needed to suppress boasting, you go to them and sell yourself for the gold of humility, on the paper of obedience and the debenture of service, and in the presence of angels as witnesses tear up the paper of your will before them, For, if you go from monastery to monastery, it may happen to you that you lose the price with which Christ bought you. Let the monastery you have entered be a tomb for you before the grave, because no one comes out of the grave before the general resurrection. If some have come out, consider: they were dead before that. Let us pray to the Lord with all our hearts that we may not fall into that evil too.
When the more negligent monks find the duties of obedience difficult, they excuse themselves by saying that it is better to pray. If, however, these duties are easier, they flee from prayer as from fire.
It happens that someone leaves the work they are in charge of to another, who begs them to calm them down. It happens, however, that someone hands over their duty to another out of laziness, or, again, out of ambition, or out of zeal.
If you have promised to live in a certain family, and you see that you are not making any progress, do not hesitate to leave it. After all, an experienced monk is experienced everywhere, and vice versa.
Insults have caused many divisions and discords in the world, and in the monasteries the indulgence of the stomach is the cause of every fall and violation of the monastic vows. If you conquer this mistress, every place will be suitable for you to attain dispassion. And when she rules, in every place, except the grave, you will be exposed to all kinds of dangers.
The Lord opens the eyes of the disciples to see the virtues of the teacher, and closes them to their faults. The good-hater, or devil, does the opposite.
The model of perfect obedience, dear friend, may it be alive for us, because even if we mix it with other substances, it always remains pure from any impurity.
The zealous need to take care of themselves the most, so that because they condemn the superficial, they will not be condemned more than they are. I believe that Lot justified himself by this, that, living among such people, he never judged anyone.
Peace and silence should always be maintained, especially during the singing of hymns. The aim of the demons is to ruin the prayer by causing disorder. It is fitting for those who serve to reach for heaven in prayer with their minds while standing before the people in their bodies.
Insults, belittling, and the like in the soul of an ascetic may be compared to the bitterness of wormwood. Praise, honors, and various other kindnesses, like honey, in the voluptuous give rise to every sweetness. Let us therefore consider the nature of both: wormwood purifies us of every impurity, while honey usually causes a disorder of the bile.
We must have complete trust in those who in the Lord have taken upon themselves the care of us, even if they command something that is contrary to our opinion and that seems to be opposed to our salvation. Then, as in the fire of humility, our trust in them is tested. The sign of complete and true trust consists in obeying our superiors without hesitation, even when we see that their commands are contrary to our expectations.
From obedience comes humility, as we have already said in the previous presentation; from humility comes judgment, as the great Cassian teaches so beautifully and sublimely in his book "On Judgment" [7]; from judgment comes clairvoyance, and from it prediction.
Who, then, would not want to embark on the wonderful path of obedience, when he sees what good things it leads to? Of this great virtue or virtue, that wonderful psalmist said: In your goodness you have prepared your presence in the heart of the poor obedient, O God (Ps 67:11).
Throughout your life, remember that great ascetic, who for eighteen years did not hear with his physical ears "Save yourself" from his spiritual father, while with his inner hearing he heard from the Lord every day not "Save yourself"!, which only expresses a wish whose fulfillment is not certain, but "You are saved"!, which is definite and undoubted.
Obedients are not aware of this, who, noticing the indulgence and condescension of their spiritual father, ask him to assign them duties according to their own desires. When they receive them, let them know that they have completely stripped themselves of the confessional wreath. For obedience is alien to all hypocrisy and personal desires.
There are also those who refuse to carry out the order they have received because they understand that its execution would not be pleasant to the person giving the order. And there are those who feel it, and still obey without hesitation. It is necessary to examine which of them acted more piously.
It is impossible for the devil to oppose his own will. Let those who live carelessly, regardless of whether they are always in the same hermitage or in the same monastery, serve as proof for you. Let the struggle in moving from one place to another be a sign to you that we could have pleased God best in our original place. For such a struggle is a sign that we ourselves have provoked it.
I would not like to be an unjust hoarder and an inhuman usurer, keeping silent about what is not right to keep for oneself. The famous John of Sava [8] told me interesting things. And that he was a dispassionate man, pure from all lies and evil deeds and words, you know from your own experience, God-pleasing father. He told me the following: "In my monastery in Asia, for from there this righteous man came, there was an old man, completely careless and dissolute. I say this not to condemn him, but for the love of the truth. How, I do not know, he finally got a younger disciple, named Akakiy, a young man of simple nature but endowed with natural intelligence. He endured so much from this old man that it may seem incredible to many. The old man humiliated him every day not only with insults and reproaches, but also with beatings. But his suffering was not unreasonable.
Seeing him, therefore, how he suffered terribly every day as if he were a purchased slave, I often said to him, when we met: "What is it, brother Akakiy? How is he today?" And he would show me: now a black eye, now bruises on his neck, and sometimes an injured head. Knowing him as an ascetic, I said to him: "Excellent! That is how it should be! Suffer, and it will benefit you." And after suffering with that merciless old man for about nine years, Akakiy went to the Lord. Five days after Akakiy was buried in the cemetery of his fathers, his old man went to one of the great elders who lived there, and said: "Father, brother Akakiy is dead." When that old man heard this, he said: "Believe me, old man, I doubt it." And the latter said to him: "Come and see." Then the old man quickly got up and arrived at the cemetery with the teacher of the blessed warrior. And calling as if alive the one who was truly alive even in death, he said: "Brother Akakios, have you died?" And the wise obedient, even after death, showing an example of obedience, answered the great one: "Father, how could a man who labors in obedience die?" Then the elder, his former teacher, fell to the ground with tears, overcome with fear, and, having begged the abbot of the Lavra for a cell near the tomb, he lived the rest of his life honorably, always telling the fathers: "I have committed murder"!
It seems to me, Father Ivan, that the old man who spoke to the dead man was the great Ivan Savai'it himself. For his blessed soul told me something else as if it were about another person, although it was he himself, as I was later able to find out for sure.
"In the same Asian monastery," he says, "another man became a disciple of a meek, gentle, and quiet monk. Seeing that the old man respected him and did not touch him, he correctly concluded that he could suffer harm, like many others, and asked him to dismiss him. The old man had another disciple, so this was not too difficult for him. Leaving him, with the help of his recommendation, he settled in one of the monasteries located in Pontus. On the first night after entering the monastery, he saw in a dream how some people asked him to give an account, and it seemed that, after that terrible torture, he was left in debt of a hundred pounds of gold. When he woke up, he thought about the dream and said: "Wretched Antiochus, that was his name, you really still owe a lot"!
" I remained in that monastery," Antiochus continued, "for three years in unquestioning obedience, humiliated and oppressed by everyone as a stranger. For they had no other foreign monks there. And I saw again in a dream one of them giving me a receipt for the payment of ten pounds of my debt. When I woke up, I understood the vision and said: "Only ten! Well, how much will it take for me to pay everything?" Then I said to myself: "Poor Antiochus, even greater effort and even deeper humiliation are needed." From then on I began to pretend to be insane, although I did not completely neglect my duties. When the merciless fathers saw me in such a state, but still diligent in my work, they imposed on me all the difficult monastery tasks. After I had spent thirteen years in such a feat, I saw that those who had previously contacted me came to me again and confirmed in writing that I had fully paid my debt. "So, if the fathers of that monastery abused me in any way, I would remember my debt and bravely bear it all."
The all-wise Ivan, Father Ivan, told me this in the third person. That's why he called himself Antiochus. And, in fact, he was that ascetic who, through suffering, tears up the list of his debts.
But let us hear how wise and pleasing to God, that is, Ivan Savait, became thanks to his ultimate obedience.
While he was in the monastery of Saint Sava, three young monks came with the desire to become his disciples. Receiving them, he immediately hosted them, taking care with all his heart that they rest from their arduous journey. After three days, the elder said to them: "Brothers, I am a fornicator by nature, and I cannot receive any of you." And they were not offended, because they were familiar with the elder's asceticism. When, however, they could not convince him with any entreaties, they threw themselves at his feet and begged him to at least give them a rule on how and where they should live. The elder agreed. Seeing that he would accept his instruction humbly and obediently, he said to one of them: "The Lord wants you, my son, to live in seclusion with your spiritual father in the asceticism of obedience." And to the second he said: "Go, sell your desires and give them to God, and take up your cross and suffer in the monastery together with the brothers: you will certainly have treasure in heaven." And then he said to the third: "With every breath you breathe, remember the words of Christ: He who endures to the end, the same will be saved (Mt 10:22). Go, and if possible, find for yourself a man as harsh and strict as possible by nature. Remain fearless and drink mockery and ridicule every day like honey and milk." And the brother said to the great John: "And what should I do, father, if he lives carelessly?" And the old man said to that: "If you see him even committing fornication, do not abandon him, but say to yourself: "Friend, why are you here?" Then you will see how the swelling disappears from you and how the flame of lust goes out."
All of us who want to acquire the fear of God should fight with all our might so that in this school of virtue we do not become bad and evil people, full of cunning and malice, cunning and anger. This happens, and no wonder: as long as a man is a simpleton, for example a boatman or a farmer, the enemies of the king do not prepare themselves to fight him; and when they see him taking the royal standard and shield, dagger, and sword, and bow, and putting on a military uniform [9], they gnash their teeth at him and try to destroy him by all means. Let us not doze off, therefore! I have seen innocent and the best children who came to school to learn wisdom, to be taught, and in general to see some benefit from school. And they learned nothing there except cunning and evil, thanks to their association with others. Whoever has sense will understand!
It is impossible for those who diligently learn a skill not to improve a little every day. However, some recognize progress, while others, according to God's plan, are not aware of it. A good banker inevitably calculates the daily profit or loss every night. However, he cannot have a clear picture of the movement of his money if he does not record certain information on a special plate every hour. Calculation every hour enables the daily calculation to be compiled.
An unwise monk, when he is scolded and condemned, feels offended and tries to answer, or, on the contrary, immediately bows before the one who scolds him, and this not out of humility, but in a desire to put an end to the scolding. But you, on the other hand, remain silent when you are beaten, and accept the pain as the best means for your soul to become bright and pure. Then, when the doctor stops scolding you, ask for forgiveness. For, perhaps, in his anger, he would not even accept your repentance.
We who live in monasteries must at all times fight against all passions, but especially against two: against gluttony and against anger. For where there are a large number of brothers, there is always plenty of occasion for the outbreak of these passions.
The devil inspires in the followers a desire to acquire virtues that they cannot attain, just as he advises those who live in solitude to strive for what is not for them. Look into the souls of inexperienced followers, and you will find a false thought: a longing for solitude, for extreme fasting and concentrated prayer, for the complete absence of vanity, for the unforgettable remembrance of death and constant affection, for perfect dispassion, for profound silence, for supernatural purity. Since these virtues were not given to them by God's plan at the beginning of their asceticism, they recklessly skip the necessary stages of asceticism, deceived by the devil, who encourages them to seek them before the time, and not to endure and not to obtain them even when the time would otherwise be favorable. To the followers, however, this deceiver praises the hospitality of the followers, their service, brotherly love, community life, and nursing the sick. And they, like the first ones, this deceiver wants to make them unstable.
Few are those who live true solitude or a life of silence. Only those who are helped by God in their struggle and who have received divine comfort can do so. For only this comfort can ease their suffering.
According to the nature of our passions, we should judge which form of obedience we should devote ourselves to, and choose the appropriate way. If you see that you are incontinent and very prone to lust, let your teacher be an ascetic, unforgiving in matters of food, and not a miracle worker, nor someone who is ready to receive and entertain everyone. If you are proud, let your spiritual father be a harsh and unyielding ascetic, and not a meek and philanthropic. We should not seek prophets or seers, but above all ascetics who are completely humble in mind, whose method and place of asceticism would be suitable for our illness.
Let this good custom also serve you for obedience, following the example of the righteous Avakir mentioned above: always think that your spiritual father is testing you. In that case, you will never make a mistake. When, despite constant abuse from your spiritual father, you feel that your trust and love for him are growing, know that the Holy Spirit has invisibly settled in your soul, and the power of the Most High has overshadowed you! However, do not boast or rejoice when you bravely endure reproach and humiliation. On the contrary, weep because you have done anything worthy of reproach at all, and have upset the soul of your father against yourself. Do not be surprised when I tell you, for Moses agrees with me [10]: it is better to sin against God than against your spiritual father! For when we anger God, our leader can reconcile him to us. But when we anger our spiritual father against us, we have no one left to intercede for us before God. I think, after all, that both sins ultimately have the same gravity.
Let us consider, judge, and be careful: when we are obliged to endure the rebuke of the shepherd with gratitude and in silence, and when to explain ourselves to him. It seems to me that we should be silent in all those cases when the rebuke concerns us, since it is a moment for reward. And, when it concerns another person, we should defend ourselves, for the sake of the bond of love and undisturbed peace.
Those who have fallen away from obedience can inform you of the benefit of it: only then did they learn in what heaven they stood.
He who strives for dispassion and God considers every day in which no one scolds him to be completely lost.
Just as trees shaken by the wind send their roots deep into the earth, so those who are in obedience acquire a strong and fearless soul.
Whoever, living in solitude, felt his powerlessness, and, having come to a monastery, sold himself to obedience, saw Christ without difficulty, although he was blind.
Hold on, hold on, and I say again: hold on, runners, ascetic brothers, listening to that wise man who says about you: Like gold in a smelting furnace or better, in a monastery the Lord has tested them, and like a burnt offering he has received them into his bosom (Wise Solomon 3:6). To him be glory and dominion eternal with the beginningless Father and the Holy Spirit, and be worshipped. Amen!
A rank equal to the number of evangelists. Stand firm, ascetic, and run without fear! Once John arrived before Peter (cf. Jn 20:4), and here obedience is placed before conversion. The apostle who arrives first at the tomb of Christ represents obedience, and the second, conversion.
1. Obedience without which no one will see the Lord: "It is necessary to examine," says Elijah of Crete, "how it is that without obedience no one will see God. What? Will Mary of Egypt, and some others who were not subject to anyone, not see the Lord? We think that the Ladder speaks not only of bodily obedience, but also of spiritual obedience. For we will not find a single saint who did not subject the body to the spirit. From this it clearly follows that no one will see the Lord who, along with bodily obedience, does not also practice this obedience (of the body to the spirit). Many who obey their carnal fathers live as slaves of passion and pleasure, and such obedience does not benefit them at all (Shol. 14, col. 732 D).
2. This is probably a monastery in Thebaida, near Alexandria (more precisely, in a suburb of Alexandria called Canopus, today Abukir). Based on the information from the Scale, it could be concluded that this monastery had two more families under it: a lavra, arranged for solitary monks, and a monastery of converts or penitents, which in the Scale is called Tamnica. There really was a monastery in Canopus, which is also mentioned by Blessed Jerome in his preface to the Rules of Saint Pachomius the Great, and which, according to this information, was called Metania (Repentance) (cf. Tganzl. lat. Reg. Scti Rashomii, Rgaef., 1, MRL. 23,65). If the Tamnica (Filak) is really the monastery in Canopus, about which Blessed Jerome heard from a holy presbyter from Alexandria, Silouan, then it is of very ancient date. This means that this unusual family existed at least two hundred years before the Scaler visited it.
3. "I waited patiently for the Lord, and he paid attention to me and heard my prayer" (Ps 39:1).
4. In the army of the protomartyr: Matija Rader understands this word as a nickname for the first Christian martyr, the holy archdeacon Stephen (cf. sol. 710 S: in Stephani protomartyris exercitu meres). Likewise the aforementioned Russian translation (p. 63, t. 68). In the Italian Salesian edition, the expression is understood as referring to Christ himself: Step forward like the disciples of Christ, who were not solitary, but lived in community (I, 165, note 3).
5. As Mary to the synagogue: besides what is said in so1. 700, this is all that the Ladder says about the Most Holy Theotokos. Here he refers to the Introduction, i.e. the bringing of the little Virgin Mary into the Jewish temple.
6. If you must forever call your mind to you: the meaning is probably this: do not be afraid or despair if your thoughts wander and then return; worry only if your mind is constantly absent, and that due to your own interest in earthly things.
7. Cassian the Great: this is Saint John Cassian (+ c. 435), a famous ascetic and Christian writer. It is not known where he was or when he was born, but it is known that he lived ascetically in a monastery near Bethlehem (Palestine). He visited Egyptian monasteries, and in Constantinople Saint John Chrysostom ordained him a deacon. After Chrysostom's death, he went to the West and settled in southern Gaul, where he founded two monasteries (the area around Massilia = Marseilles). He wrote dogmatic and ascetic works, among which is Collationes Patrum in Scythica eremo. In this work he says that true discernment is acquired only through true humility, and the first sign of this is complete confession to a spiritual father, and therefore also the confession of one's thoughts (cf. Soll. II, 12, Migne, RL, 49,542 AV).
8. The Glorious John Savvait: A famous saint, born in 454 in Nikopol, Armenia, into the family of a Christian duke. At the age of eighteen he became a monk, soon after the abbot of a small brotherhood, and at the age of twenty-eight he was ordained bishop of Colonia, a small town in Byzantine Armenia. He remained in the see for a full ten years, but the difficult situation in the Church prompted him to leave Colonia and go to Jerusalem, incognito, as a beggar. Finally, he settled in the monastery of the God-pleasing Sava the Sanctified, who was still alive at the time. He obediently performed all the monastery duties, and when they discovered who he was, he withdrew to a cell, and spent the rest of his life in complete solitude or silence, for which reason he is also called Saint John the Silent. He died in 558 (cf. Biography of December 3).
9. Elijah of Crete gives an allegorical interpretation of these objects. The royal banner is a symbol of baptism or repentance, which makes a defiled man pure again; the shield is flight from the world accompanied by impartiality; the dagger is trust in the shepherd; the sword is renunciation of desires; the bow is prayer , with which demons are overthrown; the soldier's uniform is the cloak of virtue (Shol. 93, sol. 760).
10. He certainly refers to Korah's rebellion against Moses (cf. Num. 16). God actually punishes more severely for sin against Moses than for sin against himself (cf. Exod. 32).
ON CAREFUL AND TRUE CONVERSION, ON THE LIFE OF HOLY CONVICTS AND ON PRISON [1]
Conversion is the renewal of baptism. Conversion is a vow to God to lead a new life. Conversion is the source of humility. Conversion is the irrevocable renunciation of all desire for bodily goods. Conversion is a self-judgmental thought and concern for oneself without concern for external things. Conversion is the daughter of hope, and the denial of hopelessness. A convert is a condemned man who is not free from honor. Conversion is reconciliation with the Lord through the performance of good works, contrary to previous sins. Conversion is the purification of conscience. Conversion is the voluntary suffering of all torments. A convert is a man who imposes a punishment on himself. Conversion is a great exhaustion of the stomach and a scourging of the soul with a strong feeling.
Gather together and come near, come and hear, and I will tell you something! All you who have angered God, gather together and see what God has shown me for the edification of my soul! First, we will give an account of the despised ascetics, worthy of all respect. Let us hear, remember, and do what these people do, all of us who have fallen into some unseemly sin. Arise and stand, you who are cast down by sins. Pay attention, my brothers, to this teaching of mine. Incline your ear, you who want to be reconciled to God again by true conversion or repentance.
I had heard much about the sublime and extraordinary feat and humility of those who lived in a special monastery, called the Dungeon, which was under the administration of the aforementioned lighthouse above all lights. And while I was still in his monastery, I asked the righteous man for permission to visit that isolated family. Not wishing to grieve my helpless soul in any way, the great one gave me permission.
When I arrived at the monastery of converts, i.e. the true land of the weeping, I truly saw, if it is not presumptuous to say so, what the eye of the careless man has not seen, nor the ear of the reckless man received, nor did it enter the heart of the lazy (cf. 1 Cor 2:9), deeds and words that are capable of defeating even God himself, lives and feats that immediately arouse God's love for humanity.
Among those guilty without guilt, I saw some standing all night, until early morning, under the clear sky, without moving their feet. Sleep, by the force of nature, sadly knocks them down, but despite this, they do not give themselves the slightest rest, instead they reproach themselves and disperse with insults and scolding. Others looked stiffly at the sky, and called for help from there with wails and cries. Some stood at prayer, with their hands tied behind their backs as if they were convicts, their dark eyes fixed on the ground, considering themselves unworthy to look at the sky, nor to say anything, nor to utter a voice, nor to pray to God.
Greatly tormented by their sorrowful thoughts and remorse, not finding how or where to begin their prayer, they, filled with darkness and subtle despair, presented only their confused souls and dumbfounded minds to God. Some sat on the ground, on sackcloth and ashes, hiding their faces between their knees, and beating their foreheads on the ground. Others beat their breasts constantly, calling for their souls and their former lives to return.
Some among them soaked the ground with their tears. And others, unable to even cry, beat themselves. Some wailed over their souls as if they were dead, unable to bear the suffering in their hearts. Others would howl inwardly, but their voices froze on their lips. Sometimes, when they could no longer control themselves, they would suddenly scream.
I saw some there who were as if beside themselves with great sorrow, some who had become deaf and dumb from their misfortune, completely darkened and as if insensitive to everything that pertains to this life. They had descended with their minds into the abyss of humility and dried the tears in their eyes with the fire of their pain. Others sat thoughtfully, bowing to the ground and constantly nodding their heads, and like lions roaring from the depths of their hearts and scratching the ground beneath them with their nails.
Some among them, full of hope, sought and prayed for complete forgiveness, while others, in their infinite humility, considered themselves unworthy of forgiveness and said with sorrow that they could not justify themselves before God. Some, however, implored the Lord to be punished here and pardoned there; others, tormented by a heavy remorse of conscience, begged the Lord with all their hearts not to punish them, but not to make them worthy of the Kingdom either, saying: "That would be enough for us." [2]
I saw souls there so humble and contrite, and so pressed down by the weight of the burden of sin, that they could soften even the stone itself with their words and cries addressed to God. For, lying face down on the ground, they said: "We know, we know that we deserve every punishment and torment, and that is just: even if we were to call the whole earth and the universe to weep with us, we would not have enough to pay off our enormous debts. But we ask only one thing, we pray and beg only one thing: that you do not rebuke us in your wrath, nor punish us in your anger (Ps 6:2)! It is enough for us to be freed from your great threat and secret torments that cannot be named. We do not dare to ask for complete forgiveness. How could we ask for it, when we did not keep our promise, but broke it, despite the fact that we have already felt your love for humanity and received forgiveness for our sins"?!
There one could see the practical realization of David's words: one could see tormented people, bent over until the end of their lives, who walk all day long in sorrow (cf. Ps 37:7), with stinking and festering wounds on their bodies, which they do not even care about; people who forget to eat their bread, and drink water mixed with tears, and eat dust and ashes instead of bread; people whose skin sticks to their bones, dried up like hay (Ps 101:5; 10;12).
Among them nothing else could be heard but: "Alas, alas! Alas, alas! It is true, true! Spare, spare, Lord!" Some said: "Have mercy, have mercy!", and others even more pitifully: "Forgive, Lord, forgive if possible"! Among them could be seen tongues burning and sticking out like those of dogs. Some punished themselves with heat, others with cold. Some would taste a little water and immediately stop drinking, just so as not to die of thirst; others would taste a little bread and throw it away with their hands, saying that they were unworthy of human food, since they had done the things that animals do.
Where could one notice laughter among them, where jokes, where anger, where anger? They did not know that anger even existed in people, since crying had completely destroyed every feeling of anger in them. Where could one notice answering among them, where a holiday, where shameless language, where body care, where even a trace of ambition, where counting on luxury, where the thought of wine, where tasting fruit, where preparing food, where pleasing the palate? The concern for all these things in the present life had completely disappeared from them.
Where among them could one find concern for anything earthly, where condemnation of any man? Nowhere! Such were their constant words and cries to the Lord. Some beat their breasts mightily, as if they were standing before the gates of heaven, and said to God: "Open to us, O Lord, open to us, for we have closed them before us by our sins! Open to us!" And others said: Show us your face, and we shall be saved (Ps 79:20). Others again: Show yourself to the unfortunate who sit in darkness and the shadow of death (Lk 1:79). Some, however: Let your mercies overtake us as soon as possible, O Lord, for we are lost and desolate, and have become very desolate (Ps 78:8).
Some said: "Will the Lord at all appear to us?" And others : "Will our soul cross the troubled waters of sin " ( Ps 123:5). Some, again: "Will the Lord at last have mercy on us? Will we hear him say to us who are bound by unbreakable bonds: "Come out!" and to those in the hell of conversion: "You are forgiven"?! Has our cry reached the ears of the Lord?" All of them had death eternally before their eyes, and said: "What will become of us? What will be the judgment? What will be our end? Will he call us back? Is there forgiveness for the dark, the miserable, the condemned? Has our supplication reached the Lord, or has it been justly rejected, to our humiliation and shame? If it has reached, how much favor has it made him, with what success, with what benefit, with what effect? For that which is sent from unclean mouths and bodies is of no great value. Has it entirely, or only partially, appeased the Judge, even for half of our debt? For indeed, these wounds are great, and their healing requires much sweat and effort. Have our guardians, that is, angels, come near to us, or are they still far from us? For until they come near to us, all our effort is useless and in vain. Our prayer has no strength to freely address God, nor wings of purity on which to soar to the Lord, unless our angels come near to us, take it and offer it to the Lord.” Repeating these words often, they said to one another with perplexity: “Are we making any progress at all, brothers, are we receiving what we ask for, is the Lord receiving us, is the door of mercy opening to us?” And others answered: Who knows, as our brothers the Ninevites said, whether the Lord will not yet change his mind (Jonah 3:9), and deliver us at least from that greatest punishment! We will, in any case, do what is in our power. And if he opens, that is good and beautiful! If not, then blessed be the Lord God, who justly closed them before us! Nevertheless, we will continue to knock, until the end of our lives. Perhaps he will open to us because of our great insolence.
That is why they encouraged each other, saying: "Let us run, brothers, let us run! We must run, because we have fallen behind our beautiful society. Let us run, not sparing this dirty and weak body, but mortifying it as it has killed us, as did those blessed sinners who were here before us."
One could see their knees withered from numerous offerings; their eyes dim and sunken somewhere in the depths of their skulls, without eyelashes; their cheeks wounded and inflamed from the abundant shedding of hot tears; their faces withered and pale, indistinguishable in no way from those of a dead person; their chests aching from blows to the chest. Where was the making of the bed, where was the cleaning or mending of clothes? All of them had torn and dirty clothes, covered with lint. What is the suffering of the furious, what is the suffering of those who weep over the dead, what is the torment of those who are in exile, or of those who have been condemned for murder? Truly, the forced torture and punishment of all these people is nothing compared to the voluntary suffering of these holy penitents or converts.
And don't think we're telling fairy tales, please, brothers! They often begged that great judge, I mean the shepherd, that angel among men, and persuaded him to put iron and shackles on their hands and necks, and to put their feet in stocks like punished slaves, and not to release them until the grave could receive them. After all, some didn't even want the grave.
No, I cannot deny this truly worthy of mercy and humility, and the humility of those blessed people, and their contrite love and conversion when one of those wonderful citizens of the land of conversion had to go to the Lord, to appear at His incorruptible judgment, and when he felt that his end was approaching, he would pray and implore the great father through the overseer not to grant him a human grave, but to throw him like a corpse into a river or a field, to the beasts. The beacon of discernment would often hearken to this, ordering them to be carried out without any funeral or honor.
But what a terrible and sad scene appeared at their last hour! For when the condemned felt that one of them was about to die before the rest, they would surround him while he was still conscious, and weeping bitterly in the most pitiful manner and in a sad voice, nodding their heads, they would question the dying man. Burning with compassion for him, they would say: "What is it, brother and fellow-convict? How is it? What do you say? What do you hope for? What do you think? Have you achieved what you have sought with difficulty, or not? Have you opened the door of mercy, or are you still guilty? Have you reached your goal, or not? Have you received some confirmation of your salvation, or is your hope still uncertain? Have you gained freedom, or is your thought still wavering and doubtful? Have you felt some enlightenment in your heart, or is your heart still covered with darkness and shame? Has a voice come to you that says, " Behold, you are made whole" (John 5:14), or " Your sins are forgiven you" (Matthew 9:2), or " Your faith has saved you" (Luke 18:42); or do you still hear that voice that says, " Let the wicked be turned back to hell" (Psalm 9:18), and " Bind his hands and feet" (Matthew 22:13), and " Let the wicked be removed, that he may not see the glory of the Lord" (Isaiah 26:1)? What do you say, simple brother? Tell us, we beg you, that we too may know what awaits us! For your time is up, and you will have no other for ever."
To this some of the mortals answered: Blessed be the Lord who has not turned away my prayer and his mercy from me (Ps 65:20). And, others, again: Blessed be the Lord who has not given us as a prey to their teeth (Ps 123:6). And, some said with pain: "Shall our soul pass through the troubled waters of the spirits in the air"? And, they said so because they did not yet have freedom, but were watching from afar what was happening at that trial. And, others answered with even more pain and said: "Woe to the soul that does not keep its vow without blemish. In this, and only this hour, it will see what is in store for it".
And I, watching and listening to all this between them, almost fell into despair, knowing my indifference and comparing it to their suffering.
Well, what was the arrangement of that place itself, what living conditions! Everything dark, everything stinking, everything dirty and neglected! That place is rightly called a dungeon and a prison for serving judgment. By its very appearance, it is the best teacher of conversion and weeping. However, what is inconvenient and unpleasant for others, is convenient and quite acceptable for those who have fallen from the heights of virtue and spiritual wealth. For, when it is freed from its former boldness before God, when it loses hope of achieving dispassion and breaks the seal of innocence, when it allows its treasury of grace to be plundered and when it is alienated from divine consolation, when the law of God violates and extinguishes the beautiful flame of spiritual tears, disturbed and painfully pierced by the memory of everything, the soul not only surrenders with all its heart to the aforementioned torments, but also strives to destroy itself piously by a feat, if only a trace of a spark of love or fear of the Lord remains in it.
Indeed, such were these blessed ones. For, reflecting on this and remembering the height from which they had fallen, they said: Let us remember the days of old (Ps 142:5) and that flame of our zeal! Others cried out to God: Where are your former mercies, O Lord, which you have shown to our soul in your truth? Consider the humiliation and suffering of your servants (Ps 88:50,51); and others: Who will make me as I was before, when God protected me, when the candlestick of his light shone upon the head of my heart (Job 29:2)?
And, as their former virtues would come to their remembrance, they would begin to weep like little children, and say: "Where is the purity of prayer, where is its boldness, where are the sweet tears instead of the bitter, where is the hope of perfect innocence and purification, where is the expectation of blessed dispassion, where is the trust in the shepherd, where is the beneficial effect of his prayer in us? All this perishes, and as if it had never existed, it disappears; as if it had never existed, it passes away and disappears." Speaking thus and weeping, some prayed that they would go mad; others implored the Lord to strike them with a holy disease, that is, epilepsy; some wished to be freed and thus to arouse the pity of men; and others, to become paralyzed, only so as not to be subjected to eternal torment. And I, O my friends, forgot myself as I watched their weeping. I was completely beside myself, unable to restrain myself. But let us return to the matter!
After I had spent about thirty days in the dungeon, and could bear it no longer, I returned to the great monastery, to the great father. And he, all-wise, seeing that I had changed completely, as if I were not in my right mind, sensed the reason for my change, and said: "What is it, Father Ivan? Have you seen the exploits of these poor people?" And I said: "I saw, Father, and I was amazed, and I gave credit to the fallen and weeping more than to those who did not fall and do not weep over themselves. For, through their fall, they were resurrected with such a resurrection that no danger threatens them anymore." And he said: "Truly so," and with his unfaltering lips he told me the following: "Ten years ago I had a brother here who was very zealous and hardworking, and so zealous that, seeing him burning with spirit, I trembled in fear of the devil's envy, i.e. lest in his rapid progress he should stumble over a stone, as often happens to those who walk in a hurry. And so it happened. Late in the evening he came to me and showed me his exposed wound. Very agitated, seeking a cure, he begged that his wound might be burned. Seeing that the doctor wanted to apply a less than harsh treatment, because he was worthy of pity, he threw himself on the ground, took hold of the doctor's feet, bathed them in abundant tears, and asked to be condemned to the dungeon, which you saw: "It is impossible for me," he cried, "not to go there"! Finally he succeeded in persuading the doctor to turn his mercy into severity, which is indeed rarely expected from the sick. He immediately rushed to these penitents and became their friend and companion. Wounded in the heart by the sorrow of God's love, as with a sword, on the eighth day he went to the Lord, asking not to be buried. But I carried him here and buried him with his fathers as worthy of such honor. For, after enduring a week as a slave, he was released on the eighth day as a free man. And, someone has learned for sure that he did not rise from my dirty and miserable feet before he had appeased God. No wonder, having received into his heart the faith of that harlot (cf. Lk 7:36 et seq.), he with the same confidence bathed my humble feet with tears. All things are possible to him who believes , said the Lord (Mk 9:23). I have seen impure souls who were simply mad with carnal lusts; having repented, they transformed their impure love into a passionate love for the Lord, and no longer caring about any fear, they gave themselves insatiably to the love of God. For this reason, the Lord does not say that the prudent harlot was afraid, but that she loved much (Lk 7:47), and that therefore she was able to easily obtain love through love.
I know, my wonderful brothers, that the feats I have narrated will seem incredible to some, to others such as to exceed hope, to still others, again, to drive to despair. But a brave man, when he hears of such feats, is moved to the heart, rises and goes forth with an arrow of fiery zeal in his soul. He who is weaker than him, recognizes his weakness, and, reproaching himself, immediately acquires a humble mind, and sets out after the first, only I do not know whether he can overtake him. And let the lazy man not even touch what is presented here, lest he fall into despair and ruin what he is doing. For then the Gospel saying would be fulfilled in him: From him who has no zeal, even what he has will be taken away (Mt 25:29).
When we fall into the pit of iniquity, we cannot extricate ourselves in any other way than by descending into the depths of penitential humility. One thing is the melancholy humility of the converted; another is the remorse of conscience of those who still sin; and another, again, is the blessed and rich humility which, by the working of God, enters into the perfect. We will not even attempt to explain in words what the essence of this third kind of humility is, for we would only labor in vain. The sign of the second kind of humility is the complete suffering of shame. Habit often tyrannically torments even those who weep over their sins.
No wonder, for the doctrine of the Judgment and the Fall is very mysterious. No soul is able to understand what sins happen to us because of our negligence, what because of providential divine abandonment, and what because God turns away from us. After all, someone told me this too: when this happens to us according to God's plan, we are quickly saved from trouble. For He who allowed us to fall does not allow us to be occupied with it for a long time. If we have fallen into sin, then first of all we need to fight against the demon of sorrow. For, coming before us during our prayer and reminding us of our former freedom before God, he wants to turn us away from prayer.
Do not be afraid even if you fall every day, and do not stop praying, but stand bravely. The angel who guards you will undoubtedly acknowledge your suffering. While the wound is still fresh and inflamed, it is easy to heal; but old, untreated and neglected wounds are difficult to treat: in order to heal, much work and the comprehensive involvement of the doctor are already needed. Many wounds eventually become incurable. But with God all things are possible (cf. Mt 19:26). Before we fall into sin, the demons tell us that God is loving to mankind. And after we fall, they present him as too strict. Do not believe the one who, after your fall, speaks to you of your sin as a small mistake: "Only do not do this and that, and this is nothing"! Often, even small gifts have appeased the great wrath of the judge.
A man who truly takes account of his conscience considers every day he did not cry as lost, even if he did I know what good deeds that day.
Let none of those who mourn expect to receive at the hour of their death confirmation that they have been forgiven: what is not clear is not certain. Free me from fear with proof that I am forgiven, that I may rest before I depart from here without confirmation that I am forgiven (Ps. 38:14).
Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there the chains are broken. Where there is the deepest humility, there the chains are broken. And he who is without both, let him not be deceived: he is chained!
Those who live in the world do not receive such confirmations. Especially not the first one. After all, those who give alms will find out how much benefit they get from it when they leave this world.
He who weeps over himself does not see the weeping, the fall, and the remorse of conscience of another. A dog bitten by a beast becomes even more furious at it and barks incessantly from the pain it feels in its wound.
Let us be careful that our conscience does not cease to gnaw us because it has become tired in a certain way, and not because of our purity. The sign of absolution from sin is that a man always considers himself a debtor.
There is nothing equal to God's grace. There is nothing greater than it. That is why he who despairs commits suicide.
A sign of diligent conversion is that a person believes that he deserves every visible and invisible affliction that befalls him, even something more severe.
After seeing God in the bush, Moses returned to Egypt again, that is, at dusk, to make tiles, perhaps a spiritual Pharaoh. But he returns again to the bush, and not only to the bush but to the Mountain. He who understands this lesson never despairs of himself. The great Job falls into poverty, but then becomes twice as rich as before.
The falls of the lazy after entering monasticism are very serious, because they take away their hope of reaching perfection and instill in them the thought that for bliss it is enough to simply rise from the pit. Be careful, we do not return by the same path we have strayed from, but by another, shorter one.
I saw two monks who set out for the Lord in the same way and at the same time. One of them was old, and a leader in asceticism. The other was a disciple. Yet the disciple ran the path faster than the old man and reached the tomb of humility first (John 20:4).
All of us, and especially those who have fallen into sin, should be careful not to let the disease of the impious Origen [3] creep into our hearts. His filthy teaching about God's love for mankind is very acceptable to people who love pleasures. In my teaching, and above all in my conversion, the fire of prayer is kindled, which burns up the forest of sin (Ps 38:4). Let the holy convicts mentioned above be your sign, pattern, model and example of conversion, and throughout your life you will not need any book, until Christ, the Son of God and God, enlightens you in the resurrection of true conversion or repentance. Amen!
You have climbed the fifth step, penitent, because through conversion you have purified the five senses. By taking upon yourself voluntary suffering, you have escaped eternal torment.
1. The Dungeon: on the identity of this monastery cf. Lesson IV, note 2). With his superficial and pale sense of sin, modern man is unable to comprehend the superhuman feats of the strange converts or penitents of the Dungeon. However, the explanation lies precisely in this: in a conscience that is completely God-longing, every sin becomes a terrible reality of God-forsakenness. And no feat is any longer difficult if it establishes unity with God, broken by sin. In this infinitely strong sense of sinfulness, in this insatiable longing for a holy, divinely beautiful life of the spirit, the Theban convert is a great warning to the lukewarm Laodicean Christian, and especially to the monk of the 20th century. We should think seriously about this.
2. Not to punish them, but not to entitle them to the Kingdom either: in his immeasurable expansion, the Canopic convert seems to overlook a spiritual fact: whoever is outside the Kingdom is in torment, because there is no middle ground between virtue and evil (cf. Shol 7, sol. 784 D).
3. The disease of the godless Origen: Origen (185-254), a great writer, born Egyptian, student of Pantheon and Clement of Alexandria. Very gifted from an early age, Origen gave lectures at the Alexandrian catechetical school, and then in Caesarea Palestine. He was strongly influenced by Neoplatonism and classical philosophy in general, and he advocated certain positions that the Church later declared as heresy or heresy and condemned (finally at the Fifth Council of the Holy Church, 553, which was confirmed by subsequent Church Councils). His teaching on apokatastasis, i.e., is particularly well known. about the establishment of the original state, according to which the world necessarily passes through evil as a temporary phase of its eternally circular movement. Now evil, the whole world will become good again, Even evil souls, let alone evil people, will be restored to unity with God and thus saved, by the necessity of the circular motion of the cosmos itself. Hence, this teaching could serve as an excuse for a life of sin and non-conversion, and that is why its greatest opponents were the monks, just as the monks were its most ardent supporters. In Egypt and Sinai, the struggle over Origen's ideas between the Origenists and The opposition against the Origenists was very fierce, reaching its peak with the expulsion of the Origenist monks from Egypt in 401.
Every word is preceded by a thought. And the memory of death and sins precedes weeping and wailing. Therefore, according to logical order, we place the memory of death in this place.
The memory of death is a daily death; the memory of the end of life is a constant sigh.
Fear of death is a property of nature, which arises from disobedience, and trembling before death is a sign of unrepented sins. Christ fears death, but does not tremble, to clearly demonstrate the properties of the two natures [1].
Just as bread is more necessary than any other food, so the remembrance of death is more necessary than any other feat. The memory of death encourages the monks who live in the community to work hard and think deeply, and even more so to joyfully bear insults. And, for those who live in silence or in solitude, it leads to the cessation of worrying about anything earthly, to continuous prayer and guarding of the mind. These virtues are both the mother and the daughter of the memory of death.
Just as tin is different from silver, although it looks like it [2], so the difference between natural and unnatural fear of death is clear and obvious to those who know how to reason.
The first sign that a man remembers death in the depths of his soul is a voluntary disinterest in all that is created, and a complete renunciation of his will. The experienced is he who expects death with certainty every day, and the saint is he who desires it at every moment.
Not every desire for death is good. There are people who are constantly led into sin by the power of habit, and so they pray for death out of humility. And there are those who no longer want to repent, because they think it is impossible for them, and they call upon death out of despair. Some do not fear death because in their arrogance they think they have become passionless. And there are also such people, if they can be found at all today, who, through the working of the Holy Spirit, long for their own death.
Some investigate and ask the question, why did God hide the moment of death from us when the thought of death is so beneficial for us? They do not know, however, that God miraculously works out our salvation through it. For no man whose hour of death was known long in advance would rush to receive baptism or to dedicate himself to the religious life; he would spend his whole life in lawlessness, and would approach baptism and conversion only at the point of death.
When you cry, never believe that dog that whispers to you that God is philanthropic, because its goal is to draw out of you tears and fear, not timid ones, except when it sees you collapsing into the depths of despair.
He who wants to constantly keep the thought of death and the Judgment of God within himself, and surrenders himself to earthly worries and affairs, resembles a man who wants to swim without even moving his arms.
The active remembrance of death cuts off intemperance in food. If it is cut off with humility, other passions are cut off with it. Insensitivity of the heart blinds the mind, and a large amount of food dries up the sources of tears. Thirst and vigilance oppress the heart. When the heart is depressed, whole rivers of tears flow from us. What I say is unpleasant for gluttons, and incredible for the lazy. But the man of action will earnestly examine it. He who has discovered this by personal experience will have joy. And he who is still searching will be even more unhappy.
Just as the fathers claim that perfect love cannot fail, so I think that the perfect feeling of death is free from fear.
There are many activities of the active mind: the thought of love for God, the remembrance of death, the remembrance of God, the remembrance of the Kingdom of Heaven, the zeal of the holy martyrs, the remembrance of the omnipresence of God Himself, according to what is said: I saw the Lord before me (Ps 15:8), the remembrance of the departure from the body, of trial, of torment, of judgment. (We began with great things, and we ended with those that prevent us from falling into sin).
An Egyptian monk once told me the following: "When the memory of death had become firmly established in the feelings of my heart, I once wanted, feeling the need, to give some comfort to this mud. However, the memory of death, like a judge, forbade me to do so. And, what is even more strange, although I wanted to, I could not drive it away from me"!
Another monk, who lived near us in a place called Tolo, often went into a state of ecstasy from this thought, and the brothers who happened to be there carried him almost completely numb, as if he had been completely taken away or knocked down by a fall.
I will not fail to tell you the story of a hermit from Mount Horeb [3]. He had previously lived in complete neglect, not caring at all for his soul. Finally he fell ill, and in an hour he was as good as dead. When he came to himself, he asked us all to leave him at once. And having walled up the door of his cell, he spent twelve years inside, never speaking a word, big or small, to anyone, and tasting nothing but bread and water. He just sat there and thought with horror about what he had seen in his ecstasy, without changing his way of life before the Lord at all. He was constantly beside himself, never ceasing to silently shed hot tears. And when he was about to die, we broke down the door and entered his cell. After our many entreaties, we heard only this from him, and nothing more: "Forgive me! No man who has acquired the memory of death will ever be able to sin.'' And we were amazed, knowing how he had previously been negligent towards his salvation, and seeing what an unexpected and blessed transformation he had experienced. After we buried him with all honors in the cemetery near Castro, we searched after a certain time for his holy relics, but we did not find them, because the Lord wanted to testify to his fervent and praiseworthy conversion or repentance, and to teach us that He also receives all those who, even after long-term negligence, want to improve.
Just as some imagine the abyss to be infinite, even from its very name, so the thought of death makes our purity and feat immortal. This is confirmed by the godly man of whom we have just spoken. Such people constantly add fear to fear, and do not stop until their very bones lose strength.
We should know that the memory of death, like any other good, is a gift from God. We often remain tearless, bitter, even when we are near graves, and very often we become tender even when we do not have such an example before us.
Death is remembered only by those who have died for everything earthly. And those who still care about something cannot even get used to the thought that death is coming, because they restrain themselves with their desires.
Don't try to convince every person of your love for them with words, but rather ask God to reveal your love to them without words. Otherwise, you won't have enough time to express your love and to convert.
Do not deceive yourself, foolish ascetic, thinking that you will easily make up for lost time: not even one whole day is enough for you to repay the Lord for what you have sinned against Him on that day alone.
It is impossible for a man, someone said, to spend this day piously unless he thinks that it is the last day of his life. It is indeed strange that the Hellenes (Greeks) should have said something similar, since they defined philosophy as contemplation of death[4].
Sixth degree: he who has ascended will never sin again. Remember your last moments, and you will never sin (Sir 7:36).
1. To clearly express the properties of the two natures: the nature of God and the nature of man; as a true man, Christ feels the fear of death, but as God, and as the God-man due to the hypostatic unity of the two natures, He does not tremble, i.e. does not give in to the feeling of fear and terror, since He is above all that.
2. Tin and silver: Tin (Sn, stannum, tin), chemical element with ordinal number 50 in Mendeleev's periodic table. One of its characteristic properties is that it is silvery white at ordinary temperatures.
3. Koreb: Koreb is a mountain that is geomorphologically related to Mount Sinai, on the Sinai Peninsula, although Koreb is also used in a broader sense to refer to the entire mountain range of which Sinai is the highest peak (2602m).
4. Helen and the definition of philosophy: this definition is found in Plato, in the dialogue Phaedo, IX, where it is said that "all those who cultivate philosophy in the right way strive for nothing else but to die and to be dead".
Crying according to God is a sorrow of the soul and a mood in which the aching heart searches madly for what it longs for. Not finding what it seeks, it wanders in suffering and cries bitterly because of it. In other words, crying is a golden sting for the soul, which constantly warns it and frees it from all attachment and passion, stabbed into the heart by holy sorrow.
Affection is a constant torment of conscience, which cools the fire of the heart by interior confession. Confession is a self-forgetfulness of nature, as one forgets to eat his bread (cf. Ps 101:5). Conversion is an easy renunciation of all bodily pleasure.
The characteristic of those who are still progressing in blessed weeping is restraint and silence of the mouth; of those who have already progressed, not anger and not remembering evil; and of the perfect, humility of mind, thirst for humiliation, voluntary hunger for involuntary torments, non-judgment of those who sin, supernatural compassion. While the former are to be given approval, the latter are to be praised. Those, however, who hunger for torments and thirst for humiliation are blessed, for they will be filled with food that is never enough.
If you have reached the point of tears, do your best to preserve them. They are easily lost before they are fully assimilated. Just as wax melts in a flame, so they are easily ruined by restlessness, bodily cares, and debauchery, and especially by talkativeness and laughter.
The source of tears after baptism is greater than baptism, no matter how somewhat presumptuous these words may seem. Baptism cleanses us from those sins that occurred before baptism, and tears cleanse us from what we have done after baptism. We received it as children, and we have all defiled it. And with tears we cleanse baptism itself again. And if God's love for humanity had not given people tears, those who are saved would indeed be rare, and hardly ever found.
Sighs and sorrow cry out before God. Tears that come from fear intercede for us. And those tears that come from holy love inform us that our prayer has been accepted.
If there is nothing so suitable to humility of mind as weeping, then surely nothing is so contrary to it as laughter.
Guard, carefully guard the blessed joyful sorrow of holy affection. And do not cease to cherish it within yourself, until it lifts you from here and brings you pure to Christ.
Do not cease to imagine and explore the abyss of dark fire, and the unsympathetic servant, the insensitive and implacable Judge, the endless chaos of the subterranean fire, and the terrible place under the earth, and the descent into narrow abysses, and in general everything like that, so that the lust that is in our soul may be suppressed by great fear, and that the soul may be united with imperishable purity and receive within itself the radiance of the divine light that shines brighter than any flame.
Stand in prayer with trembling, as a defendant before the judge, so that by both your outward appearance and your inward disposition you may appease the wrath of the righteous Judge. He will not despise the soul of a widow who stands before him in deep sorrow and wears out with her supplications the One who cannot be weary.
For one who has acquired tears of the soul, any place is suitable for weeping. And he who weeps only with bodily tears will never cease to distinguish between places. A hidden treasure is much less exposed to the danger of being robbed than one lying in the middle of the market. What has been said above should be understood in a similar way.
Do not be like those who bury the dead, who sometimes weep for them, and sometimes get drunk over them. Be like those who are condemned to work in the mines, who are beaten every now and then by their guards. He who sometimes weeps, and sometimes jokes, and lives in debauchery, is like a man who throws bread instead of a stone at a dog of sensuality, since he only seems to drive it away, but in reality he attracts it to himself. Be deeply concerned in your heart, but do not show your concern. Demons are afraid of such concern as thieves are of a dog.
My dears, we are not, no, we are not invited here to the wedding. He who invited us here, has indeed called us to weep over ourselves.
Some, when they cry, unnecessarily force themselves not to think about anything at all in those blissful moments, not realizing that shedding tears without any thought is characteristic of irrational, not rational beings. Tears are the offspring of thought. And the father of thought is the rational mind.
Let your lying in bed remind you of being laid in the grave, so you will sleep less. Let sitting at the table remind you of a creepy table of eternal worms, so you will enjoy eating less. And don't forget about the thirst in that eternal fire while drinking water, so you will definitely conquer your nature.
When we are subjected to precious humiliation, abuse, and punishment, let us imagine the terrible judgment of the eternal Judge, and surely, with meekness and patience, as with a two-edged sword, we will cut off the meaningless sadness and bitterness that have been sown within us.
With time, even the sea dries up, says Job (Job 14:11). Over time, and with the help of patience, little by little, all the mentioned virtues descend into us and are perfected in us.
May the thought of eternal fire accompany you to sleep every night, and may it wake up with you, so that laziness will never take hold of you during the general prayer.
Let your very clothing inspire you to the feat of mourning: all who mourn the dead dress in black.
If you don't cry, cry because you can't cry. And if you do cry, cry even more because you yourself, through your sins, have brought down from such a high position to such misery.
Our good and just Judge, as in all other things, takes into account our natural capacities in tears. I have seen someone with difficulty expelling small drops, like drops of blood. I have seen others who shed whole streams of tears without difficulty. Even I have valued these laborers more for their labor than for their tears, and I think that God especially does so.
It is not fitting for those who weep to engage in theology, for it ruins their weeping. The one who engages in theology looks like a man sitting in a teaching chair, and the one who weeps looks like someone living in a garbage dump, dressed in sackcloth (cf. Job 2:8). I think this is why David [1], although a learned and wise man, answered those who questioned him when he wept on one occasion: How shall I sing the Lord's song in a strange land (Ps 136:4), i.e., overwhelmed with passion.
As in real nature, so in affection there is something that is moved by some other, external cause. When the soul, even without our care and effort, is inclined to tears and tender, let us hasten! This means, namely, that the Lord, even without our invitation, has come and given us the sponge of godly sorrow and the fresh water of pious tears to wipe away the paper of our sins. Keep this weeping as the apple of your eye, until it imperceptibly leaves you, for its power is great, greater than the power of that weeping which is the fruit of our own care and desire.
The perfection of weeping is not achieved by the one who weeps when he wants, but by the one who weeps about what he wants. And not even by the one who weeps about what he wants, but by the one who weeps about what God wants.
Crying for God is often mixed with the most disgusting tear, the tear of vanity. And we will experience this with experience and piety when we see ourselves crying and at the same time doing evil.
True affection is spiritual misery without any arrogance, the pain of a soul that does not please itself in anything, but imagines its death at every moment, and expects comfort from God, who comforts humble monks, like a thirsty person expects cold water.
Those who weep from the depths of their souls hate their own lives, and they turn away from their bodies as from an enemy.
When we see anger and pride in those who think they are weeping for God, their tears should be considered improper. For what fellowship has light with darkness (2 Cor 6:14)? The fruit of false consolation is conceit, and the fruit of true consolation is pride.
Just as fire consumes straw, so a pure tear burns away all filth, visible and invisible.
Many fathers believe that the origin of tears is unclear and incomprehensible, especially for beginners, because tears can be the result of many different causes: nature, God, improper grief as well as praiseworthy grief, vanity, fornication, love, memories of death, and many others.
Having examined with the help of the fear of God all these motives for weeping, let us take care to obtain pure and unfalse tears, which are born from the contemplation of our separation from the body, since there is neither theft nor pride in them. On the contrary, they lead to purification and progress in the love of God, to the expiation of sins and liberation from passions.
It is not unusual for crying to begin with good tears and end with bad ones, but it is commendable when one moves from irregular or natural tears to spiritual tears. This question is understood by those who are inclined to ambition.
Do not trust tears before you are completely cleansed, because you should not trust wine that is poured into a glass directly from the vat in which it was made.
No one denies that all our tears are beneficial to God. But what that benefit actually consists of, we will see at the moment of our death.
He who constantly cries out to God has a spiritual holiday every day, and he who never stops celebrating physically awaits eternal weeping.
There is no joy for the condemned in prison. There are no holidays on earth even for true monks. Perhaps that is why he who loved to weep so much said with a sigh: Bring my soul out of prison (Ps 141:8), that it may rejoice in your ineffable light.
Be like a king in your heart, placed on the lofty throne of humility, who commands laughter: "Go," and it goes, and sweet weeping: "Come," and it comes, and to the body, our slave and tyrant: "Do this," and it does (cf. Mt 8:9).
A man who has clothed himself in blessed and gracious weeping as in a wedding garment, gains knowledge of the spiritual laughter of the soul.
Is there a monk who would spend his entire time in monasticism so devoutly, never losing a day, an hour, a single moment, but dedicating all his time to the Lord, keeping in mind that in this life one cannot experience the same day twice?
Blessed is the monk who is able to clearly see the powers of the mind, that is, the angels, with the eyes of his soul. But only that monk is truly preserved from the fall who, contemplating death and sins, constantly moistens his cheeks with the living tears of his bodily eyes.
I could hardly believe that the first stage could occur without the second. I have seen suppliants and impudent beggars, how with certain witty words they immediately win the hearts of even kings, evoking their compassion. And I have also seen poor people and orphans in virtue, how with some, not witty, but on the contrary humble, unclear and confused words from the depths of a desperate heart, without shame, persistently cry out to the heavenly King, and thus, as it were, force the mercy of Him whose nature cannot be forced.
He who is proud of his tears in his soul and condemns people who do not cry in his heart is like a man who asks the king for weapons to fight his enemy, but uses them against himself.
God does not need, nor does He want, brethren, that man should weep from the pain of his heart. On the contrary, He wants us to rejoice in the joy of the soul from love for Him. Take away sin, and your eyes will have no more tears of pain: when there is no wound, there is no need for a bandage. In Adam, before the fall, there were no tears, just as there will be no more after the resurrection, when sin disappears. For then pain, sorrow, and sighing will flee.
I have seen some people cry, and I have seen others cry because they have no tears: although in reality they have them, they think they do not, and in good ignorance they remain safe from deception. These are the very ones of whom it is said: The Lord leads the blind (Ps 145:8).
It often happens that superficial people are carried away even by their own tears. That is why they are not given to some. Such people, trying to deserve them, inflict pain on themselves, condemn themselves and torment themselves with sighs, suffering and mental anguish, deep sadness and grief. And this replaces tears for them in a harmless way, although they believe that they are of no use at all.
If we look closely, we will see that demons often play tricks on us: when we eat too much, they provoke repentance in us; when we fast, they harden us. They do this in order to deceive us with false tears and give ourselves over to the mother of all passions or to abundant food. Therefore, we should not obey them, but do exactly the opposite.
Reflecting, however, on the very nature of affection, I am amazed that weeping and so-called sorrow, like a honeycomb, contain joy and gladness! What does this teach us? That such affection is truly a gift from the Lord. There are then no deceptive delights in the soul, since God mysteriously comforts the contrite in heart with true, not apparent, comfort. In order to show what true weeping is and what is the benefit of such suffering, let us hear a story that is very beneficial and moving for the soul.
There was a certain Stephen here, who loved the hermitic and solitary life, and spent many years in monastic asceticism, richly adorned with many good qualities, especially fasting and tears. He had previously had a cell on one of the slopes of that holy mountain where the holy God-seeker Elijah had once been. [2] In order to devote himself to the most active, harshest and most severe feat of conversion, this illustrious man moved to a place where hermits usually lived, called Sidin, and there he spent several years in the most severe and harshest feat, since that place was devoid of any comfort, completely inaccessible, about seventy miles from Castro. Towards the end of his life, the old man returned to his cell on the holy peak. He also had two Palestinian disciples there, very pious, who guarded the old man's cell during his absence. Only a few days later, the old man fell ill and died of this illness. The day before his death, he fell into ecstasy, and with his eyes open, he looked around from right to left from his bed. And as if someone were tormenting him, he said from time to time, in front of all those gathered there: "Yes, really, it's true! But that's why I fasted for so many years"! Then again: "No, you really lie! I didn't do that"! And again: "Yes, it's true, yes! But I cried because of that, and served the brothers". And again: "No, it's all slander"! And sometimes he answered: "Yes, really, yes! I don't know what to say to that"! But, God has mercy"!
It was truly a terrible and terrifying sight: this invisible trial in which there is no mercy. What is even more terrible, they blamed him for what he had not done. Alas! One such solitary and hermit spoke of some of his sins: "I do not know what to say to that"! And, he spent about forty years in monasticism and had the gift of tears! Woe to me! Woe to me! Where was the voice of Ezekiel then, to tell them: I will judge you by what I find in you, says God (cf. Eze 33:13)? He could not say anything like that. For what reason? Glory to the Only One who knows! And, some told me as if before the Lord that Stephen even fed a leopard from his own hand in the desert. And he died during this trial, and it remained unknown what the decision was, what the conclusion, what the verdict and what the end of the trial was.
A widow who has lost her husband and has an only son has the only consolation, after the Lord, in her only son. So too, a soul that has sinned has no other consolation at the moment of leaving the body, except severe fasting and tears.
Such converts will never resort to sad songs or lamentations over themselves, since laments stop weeping. If you try to call him by these means, it means that he is still far from you. Weeping is the habitual pain of a fiery soul.
For many, crying is a precursor to blessed dispassion, which sweeps and adorns the soul in advance and removes from it the filth of sin.
An experienced practitioner of this virtue says: "Often, when I felt that something was pulling me towards pride, or anger, or overeating, the thought of crying would admonish me from within and say: 'Don't be vain, or I will abandon you'! She did the same with regard to other passions. And I would say to her: 'I will never disobey you until you bring me before Christ'!"
In the depths of weeping there is consolation, and the pure heart receives illumination. And illumination is the ineffable action of God, which is known in the unknowable and sees the invisible. Consolation is the refreshment of the aching soul, which, like a little child, at the same time cries and begins to smile brightly. Support is the renewal of the soul that has sunk into sorrow, which miraculously transforms tears of pain into tears of joy.
Tears at the thought of death give birth to fear. When that fear gives birth to trust in God, joy shines. And when the joy that never ceases reaches its peak, the flower of holy love sprouts.
With the hand of humility, reject joy from yourself, as if you were unworthy of it, lest, deceived, you receive a wolf instead of a shepherd [3].
Do not strive for insight at a time that is not for insight. Rather, let it come to you of its own accord, attracted by the beauty of your humility, and embrace you and unite with you in pure marriage forever.
From the very beginning, when he meets his father, the little child is filled with joy. And when he deliberately leaves for a certain time, and then returns again, the child is filled with both joy and sadness: joy at seeing the father he longed for, and sadness at not being able to see his beloved father's face for so long. The mother also hides herself from her child sometimes, and is happy when she sees how sadly she searches for her: in this way she accustoms him to be constantly with her, and develops his love for his mother. He who has ears to hear, let him hear , says the Lord (Luke 14:35; Matthew 13:9).
A man condemned to death no longer thinks about the decoration of the theater. Likewise, one who truly weeps no longer pays attention to sensual pleasures, fame, or anger and resentment.
Crying is pain, rooted in a soul that repents, in a soul that adds pain to pain every day like a woman in labor.
The Lord is just and holy, and He grants favor to those who wisely live in silence or solitude; to those who wisely serve in community, He grants joy every day. And whoever does not walk in either way properly, has said goodbye to weeping.
Drive away the dog that comes to you in moments of deepest weeping and tells you that God is merciless and insensitive. Because, if you look closely, you will see that this same dog, before our sin, was telling you that God is loving, compassionate, and merciful.
Practice gives birth to habit, and habit turns into feeling. What is done by feeling, however, is difficult to lose. If we do not have a sick heart in our lives, all our feats will be false and insipid, no matter how great they may otherwise be. For those who, after washing, have become dirty again, so to speak, really need to cleanse their hands with the strong flame of the heart and the oil of God. I have seen in some people the extreme limit of weeping, for they were pouring out blood from a painful and wounded heart into their mouths. Seeing this, I was reminded of the one who said: I am cut down like grass, and my heart is withered (Ps 101:5).
Tears of fear contain within themselves trembling and attention, while tears of love before perfect love seem to fade away easily in some, unless that great fire, which one must always remember, ignites the heart at the moment when action is needed. And it is strange that what is less valuable turns out to be more solid in its time!
There are creations that dry up the springs of our tears, and there are other creations that produce mud and vermin in them. Thanks to the former, Lot had illicit intercourse with his daughters; thanks to the latter, the devil fell from heaven [4].
Great is the malice of our enemies, who make mothers of virtues mothers of evils, and transform the means of attaining humility into a source of pride. Often the very place where we live, and its outward appearance, invites our mind to delight. Perhaps the example of Jesus [5], Elijah, and John, who prayed alone, may serve as proof.[6] But I have seen that even those who live in cities, in their tumult, often have tears in their eyes, so that they may think that the bustle of the city cannot harm us, and that they may draw nearer to the world. And this is the aim of the cunning demons.
Often, one word was enough to stop crying. But it would be a miracle if one word could also bring us back to crying.
We will not be blamed, brothers, we will not be blamed at the time of death for not performing miracles, for not engaging in theology, for not becoming fellow observers, but we will certainly have to answer before God for not crying constantly.
Seventh stage: let him who has deigned to attain it help me too. For he himself has already been given help. At the seventh stage, all the filth of this world is washed from him.
1. David: the name most often used by ancient writers for the writer of the Psalms in general. In fact, the writer of this psalm is not King David (who lived in the 10th century BC), but an unknown poet from a much later period (Babylonian captivity, 587-457 BC).
2. This is actually Mount Horeb (cf. 2 Kings 2).
3. A wolf instead of a shepherd: Elijah of Crete warns that unwise observation carries many dangers, because the devil transforms himself into an angel of light, and often deceives those who do not know their limits. This is why the apostle Paul says: In this life, I do not want to see Christ (Shol. 19, Sol. 825 AV).
4. Lot committed incest with his daughters while drunk, that is, under the influence of alcohol (cf. Gen 19:29-36). Intemperance in eating and drinking are, therefore, the first creations. Conceit because of his weeping as if for some great ascetic achievement, represents the second creations: the arrogance that develops from this is the main cause of Lucifer's fall from those "heavenly" heights of being, where he was in the hierarchy of the spiritual world.
5. The example of Jesus: In all likelihood, the name of the Lord Jesus is interpolated here, because it would be a unique case in patristic literature to place the Lord on the same level and in the same order as the saints (cf. Migne, sol. 816 S: the name of Jesus is placed in square brackets as interpolated; cf. also in note 1 in the Salesian edition, I, 284).
6. Those who prayed alone: for Saint John the Baptist, cf. Mt 2:1; 4:12; 11:2; Mk 1:4-14; 6:14-18 et seq. For the holy prophet Elijah, cf. 2 Kings 19 et seq.
ON ANGRYNESS AND MEEKNESS
Just as water, when poured little by little on fire, completely extinguishes the flame, so the tear of true weeping extinguishes every flame of anger and impetuosity. Therefore, we now move on to non-anger, in logical order.
Impermanence is a longing for humility, just as insatiable as the insatiable desire for praise is in vain people. Impermanence is a defeat of nature, which manifests itself in insensitivity to insult, an insensitivity that comes from great feats and abundant sweat.
Meekness is a constant state of the soul, which does not change whether it suffers various humiliations or listens to praise.
The beginning of non-anger is silence of the mouth when the heart is agitated. The middle is silence of the mind when the soul is subtly agitated. And, the peak, fearless peace despite the fact that impure winds blow.
Anger is an expression of secret hatred, i.e., a grudge. Anger is a desire for harm to befall the one who has angered us. Impulsiveness is the burning of the heart in a storm. Resentment is an unpleasant feeling that nestles in the soul. Anger is a changeable state of nature and an ugliness of the soul.
Just as darkness disappears when light shines, so the fragrance of humility suppresses all bitterness and anger. There are people prone to anger who do not care to cure and eradicate this passion. They, poor people, do not think about what is said: The weight of his anger brings him down (Sir 1:22).
The rapid movement of one millstone can in a single moment crush and destroy the grain of the soul and the fruit of previous endeavor to a greater extent than the slow movement of another in a whole day. That is why we must be very careful. Sometimes a flame, suddenly ignited by a strong wind, burns and ruins the field of the heart more than a fire that burns for a long time.
Friends, we should not forget this either: cunning demons sometimes, in moments of anger, quickly depart from us, so that we cease to take great passions into account, as if they were small, and so that our illness ultimately becomes incurable.
Just as a hard and rough stone, when rubbed and struck against other stones, loses all its unevenness, all its irregular and rough shapes, and becomes smooth and round, so too a passionate and rough soul, by communicating and living with other, equally rough people, achieves one of two things: either it cures its illness through suffering, or it withdraws, and thus becomes reliably aware of its powerlessness, which will be shown to it, as in a mirror, in its despondent flight.
An angry man is a voluntary epileptic, for whom epilepsy becomes a habit. And then the habit tears him apart and abuses him, even against his will.
Nothing is so unbecoming of those who repent as the excitement of anger. For turning to God with conversion or repentance requires great humility, and anger is a sign of great pride.
If it is a sign of the deepest meekness to preserve peace of heart and love for him even in the presence of the one who provokes us, then it is certainly a sign of extreme anger if we quarrel with ourselves, with words and actions, and rage at the one who offended us. If the Holy Spirit is called, and is, peace of soul, and anger is and is called agitation of heart, then nothing hinders the coming of the Holy Spirit into us so much as anger.
We know of many bad consequences of anger. However, just one of its unintentional consequences, although indirect, can be beneficial to us.
I have known people who, in a fit of mad rage, freed themselves from the old grudge that had been hidden within them, and thus, by means of passion, freed themselves from passion, obtaining from the one who had offended them forgiveness or an explanation of what had long tormented them. I have also seen such people who appeared to suffer, but unreasonably, under the cloak of silence, hid their grudge within themselves. And I have come to the conclusion that such people are more miserable than madmen, because they covered the whiteness of a dove with a kind of blackness.
We should pay great attention to this snake, because it, like the snake of carnal desires, is helped by nature itself. I have seen people who would become angry and in their indignation refuse to eat, and by such senseless abstinence they only added poison to poison. And I have seen other people who used their anger as a convenient excuse to give themselves up to gluttony, and thus fell from the pit into the abyss. But I have also seen other, wise people who, like good physicians, combined both extremes, deriving the greatest benefit from moderate care of the body.
When moderate, singing is sometimes a great way to calm anger. And sometimes, when excessive and untimely, it encourages sensuality. This remedy will only be useful to us if we are mindful of the moment.
While I was on some business near the cell of people who had devoted themselves to solitude, I heard them quarreling in their cells out of bitterness and anger, like partridges in a cage, and addressing their offenders as if they were present. I gently advised them not to live in solitude, so that they would not turn people into demons. I also saw people with voluptuous and gluttonous hearts, who were, however, meek and kind, brotherly and lovers of beauty. I urged them to devote themselves to a solitary life, as a remedy against voluptuousness and gluttony, so that they would not turn from rational beings into mindless animals in the most deplorable way. And since some sadly told me that they were very susceptible to both, I completely forbade them to live as they pleased, and I friendly advised their spiritual fathers to allow them from time to time to lead this or that way of life, while still obeying the main superior in everything.
The lover of pleasure harms only himself, and perhaps one more, his companion in carnal pleasures. And to be angry, like a wolf, often disturbs the whole flock and humiliates and offends many humble souls. It is dangerous to disturb the eye of our heart with anger, as it is said: He is troubled with anger around me (Ps 6:8). It is even more difficult to express the agitation of the soul in words. And if it is expressed also with the hands, then something is already being done that is completely contrary to the religious, that is, angelic and divine life of others.
If you want to, and even if you have decided to, remove the speck from another person's eye, do not use a beam instead of a medical instrument. A beam is a harsh word and improper behavior, and a medical instrument is a gentle lesson and friendly rebuke. Reprove , says the apostle Paul, rebuke, comfort (2 Tim 4:2), and not "beat"! And, if that is necessary, then rarely, and not with your own hand!
If we pay attention, we will see that many angry people gladly practice vigils, fasting, and solitude. The demon's goal is to plant in them, under the guise of weeping and conversion or repentance, things that feed their passion.
If, as we have already said, one wolf is able to alarm the whole flock, with the help of demons, then undoubtedly one very wise brother, with the help of angels, can, like a good skin full of oil, calm the waves and calm the ship. [1] And as severely condemned as the former is, so greatly rewarded by God as the latter is, serving as an example to all.
The first degree of blessed patience is to endure humiliation, even with bitterness and pain in the soul. The middle is to be in such circumstances without sorrow. And the end, if there is only an end, is to consider insult as praise. Let the first rejoice, let the second be happy, and let the third rejoice, blessed in the Lord!
I have noticed a sad phenomenon in angry people, which arises in them as a result of a secret pride: having once become angry, they would fall into rage again because of their defeat. I was astonished, seeing how one fall followed another. And I could not watch without pity how they avenge themselves with sin for sin. Horrified by the immense cunning of the demons, I almost began to despair for my eternal destiny.
If anyone feels that pride and impetuosity, malice and hypocrisy easily overcome him, and decides to draw the sword of meekness and patience against them, let him enter a monastery, as if into a workshop of salvation. If he wants to be completely free from these passions, let him there, subjected to abuse, humiliation and annoyance by his brothers, and spiritually, and sometimes physically, beaten and oppressed, trampled and tortured, cleanse the garment of his soul from dirt. And that abuse is in fact the washing away of spiritual passions, let a folk saying convince you. Certain people in the world, when they throw an insult in someone's face, usually say, boasting to others: "I scrubbed him well"! And, in fact, that is how it is.
It is one thing, not the anger of beginners that comes from crying, and another thing is the complete serenity of the perfect. In the former, anger is bound by tears as a kind of bridle; in the latter, it is deadened by impatience, like a snake by a sword.
I saw three monks who suffered the same kind of insult at the same time. The first was offended, but kept quiet. The second rejoiced for himself, and grieved for the one who had offended him. And the third, imagining the harm that such a fellow human being had done to himself, wept with hot tears. Thus together they could see the ascetic of fear, reward, and love.
Just as a bodily fever, always the same in itself, has many and not just one source of its origin, so the outbreak and appearance of anger and our other passions have many and different causes. Therefore, it is not possible to prescribe one and the same remedy for these passions. I give such advice mainly so that each patient may find, through careful examination, the appropriate remedy for his treatment. The first condition for treatment is to find out the cause of his illness, so that, when it is found, he may receive the appropriate remedy from the plan of God and spiritual physicians.
Come in, as in the picture, you who in the Lord want to participate with us in this spiritual trial, and we will examine the mentioned passions and their causes in a specific, of course, insufficiently clear way.
And so, let anger, like a tyrant, be bound by meekness. Then, beaten by patience and drawn by holy love to this court of reason, let it be subjected to a hearing.
"Tell us, you foolish and dishonorable passion, the name of the one who made you, and the name of the one who gave birth to you, and also the names of your filthy sons and daughters. Not only that, but also indicate to us those who fight against you and who kill you."
And anger, answering us, said: "I have many mothers, and my father is not one. My mothers are: vanity, avarice, gluttony, and sometimes fornication. My father is called pride, and my daughters are grudge, hatred, enmity, self-justification. My adversaries, who now keep me chained, are the virtues opposite to these passions: not anger and meekness. My secret enemy is called humility of mind. And whose child is that, ask him at a convenient moment."
On the eighth step lies the crown of impatience. But he who wears it by nature, perhaps has no other at all. And he who has won it by his own sweat, has undoubtedly conquered all eight passions at once.
1. To calm the waves and calm the ship: According to Elijah of Crete, the Laddermaker allegorically applies the phenomena of the raging sea to monastic life. By the skin, he means the body, by the oil, meekness, by the waves, conceit, as well as rudeness, and by the ship, a brother or monastic brotherhood.
The holy virtues resemble Jacob's ladder, and the sinful passions resemble the chains that fell from Peter, the chief apostle. For the holy virtues, connected with each other, raise to heaven the one who desires to reach heaven, and the passions, suppressing each other, drag all together into ruin. That is why unreasonable anger says that resentment is one of its own children. Therefore, since it is now in its turn, we will also speak of it.
Anger is the consequence of anger. It is the guardian of sin, the hatred of righteousness, the ruin of virtue, a poison to the soul, a worm of the mind, a shame to prayer [1], a cutting off of prayer, an alienation of love, a thorn stuck in the soul, an unpleasant feeling enjoyed with bitter pleasure, a sin that does not cease, an ever-watchful transgression of the law of God, a perpetual malice. This dark and hateful passion, the passion of anger, is one of those which are the consequences of other passions without themselves, in their turn, causing, or perhaps causing, any other passion. Therefore we do not intend to say much about it.
He who has overcome anger has also destroyed grudges, for as long as the father is alive, children are born.
To one who has acquired love, it has become alien to be angry, and one who harbors hostile feelings within himself causes himself unnecessary suffering.
A table of love destroys hatred, and a sincere gift softens the soul. A table without restraint is the mother of insolence, and through the door of love comes the pleasure of the belly.
I have seen hatred break a long-standing bond of fornication, and a grudge that then in a strange way did not allow them to reunite. A strange thing, for a demon to cast out a demon! And, perhaps it is not the work of a demon, but the plan of God?
Very far from firm and true love, fornication easily approaches grudge, and as imperceptibly as we sometimes discover the ears of pigeons [2].
If you want to be spiteful, be spiteful to demons. And if you want to be an enemy to anyone, be an enemy to the flesh, and in every way. The flesh is an ungrateful and insincere friend, for the more it is pleased, the more harm it does us.
A bad memory presents itself as a teacher of the Holy Scriptures and interprets the words of the Holy Spirit in its own way. May the Jesus Prayer, which we cannot say if we have a bad memory, put it to shame.
When, even after great feats, you are unable to completely remove this stake from your heart, apologize to your enemy, even if only verbally, so that, ashamed of your long-standing hypocrisy before him and tormented by your conscience like fire, you may come to love him perfectly.
You will know that you have completely escaped this corruption, not when you pray for the one who has offended you, nor when you return evil with good, or invite him to your table, but when, upon hearing that he has suffered some mental or physical misfortune, you become sad and weep for him as for yourself.
A malicious loner is an asp lying in its hole, full of deadly poison.
The memory of Jesus' suffering heals resentment, which is exposed to great shame in the face of His patience.
Worms are born in a tree that is rotten from the inside. And in those who are only seemingly meek and solitary, permanent anger is hidden.
He who lets go of anger finds forgiveness. But he who clings to it deprives himself of God's mercy. In order to deserve the forgiveness of sins, some have dedicated themselves to strenuous feats. But the man who does not remember evil reaches the goal before them: Forgive what little people owe you, and your large debts will be forgiven you before God (Luke 6:37).
Forgetting evil is a sign of true conversion and repentance. And he who has evil in his heart, and thinks he is repenting, is like a man who in a dream seems to be running.
I have seen people who remembered evil who advised others not to remember evil, and who, ashamed of their own words, freed themselves from their passions.
Let no one think that this dark passion is insignificant. It often creeps into the hearts of spiritual people.
Ninth degree: he who has reached it, should boldly ask the Savior Jesus for absolution from sin.
1. The shame of prayer: the Lord's prayer is meant, i.e., the Our Father. For when we say: "And forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors," our conscience must reproach us if we do not forgive and if we remember evil (cf. Shol. 2, sol. 844 S).
2. Just as a louse robs a dove of its strength and gradually ruins it, so fornication harms love and makes it weaker and weaker (cf. Shol. 5, sol. 845 A).
No intelligent person, I think, will dispute that hatred and resentment are born from gossip. That is why I put it in this place in my presentation, right from its parents.
Gossip is the offspring of hatred. It is a subtle but serious disease, a hidden and insidious leech, which sucks and weakens the blood of love. Gossip is the hypocrisy of love, the cause of defilement and burden of conscience, the destruction of purity.
Some girls sin openly and without shame, while others secretly and with more shame do even worse things than the first. Something like this can be seen in shameful passions. There are many things secretly, inwardly corrupt girls, that is, passions: hypocrisy, cunning, sinful sorrow, grudges, gossip in the heart. Visible, they represent one thing, but inwardly they look at another.
When I once heard some people gossiping, I threatened them. The perpetrators of this evil act, in their defense, claimed that they did so out of love and concern for the one who was the subject of gossip. But I said to them: "I have driven away the one who secretly slanders his neighbor" (Ps 100:5).
If you truly love your neighbor as you say, pray in secret, and not to mock man. This is the way that pleases the Lord. And let this also not remain unknown to you, so that you will be careful not to condemn people who stumble: while Judas was a disciple of Christ, the robber belonged to the murderers; and it is a wonder how such a change could happen to them in one vision!
Whoever wants to overcome the spirit of gossip should not blame the one who has fallen, but the demon who has cast him down. For no one particularly wants to sin against God, although none of us sins under compulsion, but voluntarily.
I knew a man who had sinned publicly, but had repented secretly. And he whom I had condemned as a fornicator was already innocent before God, having appeased God by sincere repentance.
Never hesitate before someone who gossips about your neighbor in your presence, but rather say: "Stop, brother! I fall into graver sins every day. So how can I judge him?" In this way, you will do two good things with one stroke, because you will heal both yourself and your neighbor with one medicine.
One of the shortest paths to forgiveness of sins is: do not judge. Do not judge, and you will not be judged (Luke 6:37). Just as fire is opposed to water, so is judgment foreign to someone who wants to convert or repent.
Do not judge even if you see someone sinning even at the point of death, because God's judgment is not known to people. Some have committed great sins publicly, but have performed even greater virtues in secret. And those who so gladly mocked them were deceived, because they could not see the sun because of the smoke.
Hear me, hear me, all you who judge others' actions harshly, for if it is true, and it is true, that we will be judged with the judgment we use (cf. Mt 7:2), then we will certainly fall into the very sins of body or soul for which we blame our neighbor.
Strict and careful judges of their neighbor's sins suffer from the aforementioned passion because they do not have a perfect and permanent memory and concern for their own sins. For he who sees his evil deeds accurately, without the cloak of self-love, no longer cares about any other earthly things, thinking that he will not have enough time even for his own weeping, even if he lives a hundred years, and even if he sees a whole river of tears flowing from his eyes, as great as the Jordan.
I examined the cry, and found no trace of gossip or judgment in it.
Demons persuade us either to sin, or, if we do not sin, to condemn those who sin, so that, murderers, they may use the second to taint the first.
Know that spiteful and malicious people are also recognized by the fact that, possessed by the spirit of hatred, they easily and with pleasure diminish the value of the teachings, activities and virtues of their neighbor. I have known some people who secretly and hidden from the world committed the most serious sins. However, considering themselves pure, they severely attacked those who publicly fell into minor sins.
To judge is to shamelessly claim God's right, and to condemn is to ruin one's soul. Just as pride can ruin a person without any other passion, so too can judgment itself completely destroy us. That Pharisee was condemned for precisely this (cf. Lk 18:10 et seq.).
A good gardener only picks ripe strawberries, not unripe ones. A wise and prudent mind, likewise, notices only virtues and speaks only about them. A foolish man, on the other hand, finds only faults and shortcomings. It is said of him: They searched out iniquity, and those who searched out iniquity perished (Ps 63:7).
Don't judge even when you see with your own eyes that someone is making a mistake, because eyes can often deceive you.
The tenth step. Whoever has mastered it has become a worker of love or of tears.
In the previous lines we have briefly pointed out how dangerous and harmful it is to judge, or rather to be judged and condemned by our own tongue. And this happens even to people who appear to be spiritual. Therefore, we must now proceed in order to investigate the causes and the doors through which this vice enters us, or more precisely, through which it exits us.
Loquacity is the throne of vanity, where it delights to appear in all its splendor. Loquacity is a sign of ignorance, a door of gossip, a leader of jokes, a servant of lies, a release from humility, a summoner of despondency or depression, a harbinger of sleep, a scattering of thoughts, a loss of caution, a cooling of warmth, a darkening of prayer.
Prudent silence is the mother of prayer, the deliverance from slavery, the guardian of fire, the guard of thoughts, the scout of enemies, the dwelling of weeping, the friend of tears, the worker of the memory of death, the painter of torments, the preoccupation with the spectacle of the Last Judgment, the assistant of salutary melancholy, the enemy of impudence, the companion of loneliness or of a life in silence, the opponent of the desire to teach others, the multiplication of knowledge, the creator of visions, the imperceptible progress, the hidden ascent.
He who has known his sins has mastered his tongue. And he who talks a lot does not yet know himself as he should know himself. The friend of silence draws near to God, and by talking with Him in secret, is enlightened by Him.
Jesus' silence shamed Pilate (cf. Mt 27:14 et seq.), and the silence of a pious man destroys vanity. Having spoken the word, Peter wept bitterly (cf. Mt 26:75), because he forgot the one who said: I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue (Ps 38:1), and the other who said: It is better to fall from a height to the ground than from the tongue (Sir 20:18 – cited in the original from memory).
But I don't want to write much about it, although the wiles of passion encourage me.
Moreover, I once heard some interesting things from a man who was talking to me about silence. He told me that talkativeness, generally speaking, arises from any of the following causes: either from a bad and unbridled life and habits, because the tongue, as a natural organ of the body, by habit seeks what it has learned; or, again, especially in ascetics, from vanity, and sometimes from gluttony. Therefore, often many who restrain their stomachs by some force and weakness, at the same time restrain their tongues and talkativeness.
He who thinks of death has cut off conversation. And he who has acquired spiritual weeping flees from eloquence as from fire.
He who loves solitude has closed his mouth. And he who loves to wander is driven from his cell by passion.
Whoever has smelled the scent of the sacred fire avoids crowds of people just as bees flee from smoke. For just as smoke drives away bees, so they do not tolerate large crowds.
There are few who can stop the flow of water without a dam. Even fewer who can tame an unbridled mouth.
He who has reached the eleventh degree has cut off many evils with one stroke.
The product of iron and stone is fire. The product of talkativeness and joking is a lie.
A lie is the disappearance of love. Perjury is the denial of God.
No wise man should think that lying is a small sin, for there is no sin against which the Holy Spirit would pronounce such a terrible judgment as against lying. If God will destroy all who speak lies, as David says (Ps 5:7), how much more do those who combine lies with oaths deserve.
I have seen people who boast of their lies, and who with wit and hollow phrases provoke laughter, and sadly eradicate weeping from the hearers.
When they see us at the very beginning trying to avoid listening to the indecent stories of a dangerous lecturer as if it were a contagious disease, the demons try to deceive us with two thoughts: "Do not insult the narrator," they whisper to us, or: "Do not pretend to be more pious than the others." Jump away, do not hesitate! Otherwise, ridiculous thoughts will disturb you during prayer. And do not only avoid, but also piously disperse such bad company, throwing the thought of death and the Last Judgment into their midst. It is better for you to sprinkle yourself with a little ambition, just so that you can be a cause of general benefit.
Hypocrisy is the mother of lies, and often its immediate cause. Some argue that hypocrisy is nothing more than the practice of lying and the creator of lies, with which perjury is mixed, worthy of the most severe punishment.
To one who has acquired the fear of the Lord, lying becomes alien, because he has his own conscience as an incorruptible judge.
As in all passions, so in lies we see different harms: the judgment is different for the one who lies out of fear of torment, and different for the one who lies without any real danger. One lies for the sake of amusement, another for the sake of pleasure; one, to bring joy to those present, and another, to weave a net for his neighbor and cause harm.
The authorities pursue lies under threat of severe punishment, but a lot of tears completely destroy them.
A liar is often justified by circumstances, and what is ruin for the soul he considers a good deed. A lying man pretends to be the heir of Rahab (cf. Is. Nab 2:1 et seq.), and says that he saves others by his own ruin.
We will only be able to use lies when we have completely cleansed ourselves of them, although even then not without the fear of God and not without a strong reason.
A small child does not know about lying. Neither does a soul that no longer has cunning within it.
He who is delighted with wine, and against his will, speaks the truth in all things. And he who is drunk with sweetness, is not able to lie.
Twelfth degree: he who has ascended has acquired the root of virtues.
ABOUT LITTLENESS OR UNION
One of the frequent offshoots of talkativeness, as we have already said, and one of the first, is the offshoot of despondency, or unanimity. Therefore, we give it its proper place in the chain of passions.
Despondency or dejection is a weakening of the soul and weakness of the mind, neglect of feats, hatred of the monastic vow, a praiser of worldly people, a slanderer of God as if He were merciless and unloving of humanity. It is languor in worship, weakness in prayer, it is iron-hearted in service, diligent in physical labor, inexperienced in obedience.
An obedient man knows no discouragement, fulfilling his basic, spiritual task through visible work.
The monastery is the enemy of despondency. But to a man, a solitary, it is an eternal companion, it does not retreat until death itself, and until his end it does not cease to fight against it. Seeing the hermit's cell, it smiles, and approaching it, it settles down beside it.
The doctor visits the sick in the morning, and the discouraged or despondent ascetics in the middle of the day.
Hospitality is the foundation of discouragement and encourages us to do alms with our own hands. It earnestly encourages us to visit the sick, recalling the one who said: I was sick and you visited me (Mt 25:36). It advises us to go to the sorrowful and the downcast, and, only being discouraged, it suggests that we comfort the discouraged.
This foolish spirit reminds those who have stopped for prayer of necessary business, and uses every means to tear us away from prayer under some convenient pretext. During the service of the first, third, and sixth hours, the demon of despondency causes in us chills, headaches, and above all stomach cramps. When the ninth hour comes, he raises his head a little. And, when the table is already set for the meal, he jumps out of bed. And when later the time for prayer comes again, it again makes the body heavy. He who has stopped for prayer, plunges into sleep, and with an indecent yawn snatches the verses from his mouth.
Every other passion is suppressed by an opposing virtue. But discouragement for a monk is a total death. A courageous soul resurrects a dead mind, while discouragement and sluggishness of soul destroy the entire wealth of our spirit.
As this spirit is one of the eight forerunners of evil [1], and the worst of all, we will treat him as we would the others. We will add, however, this: when there is no worship, there is no despondency, and as soon as the canon is finished the eyes open.
True ascetics are known in times of discouragement. Nothing brings a monk so much crown as the struggle with discouragement or unhappiness. Think, and you will find that discouragement fights with those who are on their feet; it advises those who are sitting to lie down, or to look out of the window of their cell, or to beat and stamp their feet.
He who weeps over himself knows no discouragement or loneliness.
Let this tyrant also be bound by the memory of our sins, and beaten with bodily labor. Let the thought of future goods drag him along the earth. When he stands before us, let us ask him: "Tell me, then, you who are loose and free, who is it that gave you birth in such a monstrous way? Who are your descendants? Who are these who fight with you? Who is your murderer?" And he, the tyrant, answers: "With those who are truly obedient, I have nowhere to lay my head, but I have with those who are in solitude and live with them. My parents are many: sometimes insensitivity of the soul, sometimes forgetfulness of what is above in heaven, and it may be excessive labor. My descendants are: my innate mania of moving from one place to another, disobedience to my spiritual father, forgetfulness of the Last Judgment, and sometimes abandonment of the vows. My opponents, who now keep me bound, are: worship with bodily labor. My enemy, the thought of death. And what kills me is prayer with the firm hope of obtaining bliss. Who gave birth to prayer, ask it itself!
Thirteenth victory. The one who really took her in everything, was tested for everything.
1. One of the eight Mediators of Evil: every sinful thought, claims Elijah of Crete, is reduced to eight main passions (or "thoughts"), namely: the indulgence of the stomach, and with it fornication, avarice, sorrow, anger, dejection or despondency, ambition, pride. It does not depend on us whether our soul will be attacked by these passions or not (Shol. 2 to Lesson XIV. Col. 872 VS). See also note 1) to Lesson XXII
ABOUT THE BELLY, THE BAD MASTER WHO EVERYONE LOVES
More than anywhere else, in speaking here of the belly I am actually speaking against myself. I would be surprised if anyone were to free themselves from this passion before they go to the grave.
Appeasing the stomach is the hypocrisy of the stomach: although full, it cries out that it has little, and although full and overloaded, it cries out that it is hungry. Appeasing the stomach is the inventor of delicacies, an inexhaustible source of sweetness: if you tear off one vein, it releases another, and if you cut that one too, you will experience defeat by sprouting a new one. Appeasing the stomach is a deception of the eyes: it encourages us to swallow all at once what should be eaten in measured bites.
Overeating is the mother of fornication, and the torment of the belly is the culprit of chastity. He who caresses a lion often succeeds in taming it. And he who indulges the flesh only makes it wilder still.
The Jew rejoices in the Sabbath and the feast, and the monk who pleases his stomach rejoices in the Sabbath and Sunday. He calculates how many days remain until Easter, and in the days before the feast he prepares meals. The servant of the belly calculates with what dishes he will welcome the feast [1], and the servant of God with what gifts of grace he will be enriched.
When a guest comes, the servant of the belly is moved to love by the pleasure of the belly. He thinks that the hospitality he should show his brother absolves him of himself. He considers the arrival of certain people as an opportunity to drink wine. And thinking that he is hiding virtue, he becomes a slave to passion.
Ambition is often hostile to the indulgence of the stomach. These two passions fight over the unfortunate monk as over an expensive slave. Indulgence of the stomach leads to a release from fasting, while ambition urges to show one's own virtue or virtue. The wise monk manages to avoid both dangers, repelling one from the other at the appropriate time.
When the body is inflamed, we should torture it at all times and in all places. And when it calms down, which, by the way, I don't expect before death, we can already hide our virtue from others.
I have known old priests who became the object of ridicule to demons because they allowed young monks, who were not under their direction, to drink wine and everything else at feasts with their blessing. If they have a good testimony in the Lord, then we can allow ourselves to do so to a certain extent; but if it is a matter of carelessness, we should not pay any attention to their blessing at all, especially when we are fighting the fire of carnal lust.
The anti-God Evagrius [2] thought himself wiser than all wise men, both in eloquence and in thought. But he deceived himself, poor fellow, and proved himself to be madder than madmen, both in many of his opinions and in the following. He says: “When the soul desires various foods, it should be tortured with bread and water.” Such a prescription seems like telling a child to reach the top of a ladder in one jump. Therefore, refuting this rule of his, we will say: “When it desires various foods, the soul seeks what is proper to nature. Therefore, let us resort to cunning against the all-wise. Otherwise, the most difficult war will arise, or a fall is prepared.”
Let us first of all give up food that makes us fat, then food that inflames the body, and finally sweets. If possible, give your stomach filling and easily digestible food, so that by satiety you may turn away its insatiable desire, and by rapid digestion you may be delivered from the lashings of lust as from a whip. Let us look closely, and we shall find that many foods that make us fat also arouse lustful feelings.
Laugh at the demon who, after dinner, persuades you to have dinner later in the future. For when the ninth hour comes the next day, the rule of the previous day will be broken [3].
One kind of abstinence is suitable for those who are independent, and the other for those who are under someone's guidance. For the former, lustful feelings serve as a sign, while the latter remain with them until death, until the end of their lives, without comfort or rest. The former want to constantly maintain the balance of the spirit, while the latter appease God by sorrowing and withering in spirit.
The hours of joy and comfort for the perfect man mean carelessness in everything. For the ascetic, it is a time of struggle. For the one possessed by passions, it is a holiday of holidays and a feast of feasts.
A glutton dreams of eating and drinking, and a weeper dreams of torment and Judgment.
Be master of your stomach before it masters you. And then you will be forced to abstain with shame. What I say is understood perfectly by those who have inexplicably fallen into the pit. People who have become eunuchs of the Kingdom for the sake of heaven have not experienced this.
Let us tame the stomach with the image of eternal fire. Some people, obeying the stomach, ended up cutting off their genitals, and died a double death.
Let us examine, and we shall certainly find that the indulgence of the stomach is the sole cause of all our shipwrecks.
The mind of the ascetic prays boldly, but the mind of the intemperate is full of impure reveries.
A full stomach means the source of our tears dries up. And when the stomach dries up, whole streams of tears pour out of us.
He who serves his own belly and wants to overcome the spirit of fornication is like a man who tries to put out a fire with oil.
When the stomach is hungry, the heart becomes humble. And when the stomach is pleased, the mind becomes arrogant.
Examine yourself about noon and about the last hour before eating, and you will understand the benefit of fasting. Thoughts wander in the morning, touching on a little of everything; when the sixth hour comes, they become somewhat quieter; and when the sun sets, they finally settle down.
Tighten your stomach, and you will close your mouth, because the tongue gains freedom from a large amount of food. Fight against your stomach and be very careful. Because as soon as you make a little effort, the Lord will immediately come to your aid.
Softened bladders expand and take in more fluid, while neglected and dry ones do not take in as much as they used to. He who burdens his stomach expands his intestines, and he who fights against his stomach also contracts his intestines. And when they contract, they will no longer take in much food. Then we will already be ascetics by nature.
Thirst is often quenched by thirst. But to satisfy hunger with hunger is difficult and impossible. When it overcomes you, tame it with effort. If this is impossible for you due to physical weakness, fight it by staying awake. When your eyelids become heavy, take up physical labor. But when sleep does not attack you, do not take up physical labor, for it is impossible to dedicate the spirit to both God and mammon, i.e. to both God and physical labor.
Know that the demon often sits by the stomach and does not allow a person to feel full, even if he eats all of Egypt and drinks the Nile River.
After we had eaten, that unclean spirit went away and sent us a spirit of fornication, informing him of what had happened to us: "Come," he said, "disturbe him! Since his belly is full, you will easily overcome him." And this one comes, smiling, and having bound our hands and feet with sleep, does with us as he pleases, defiling the soul with impure dreams and the body with discharges.
A miraculous thing: the disembodied mind is soiled and darkened by the action of the body. And, on the other hand, the disembodied being is purified and perfected by the action of mud!
If you have promised Christ that you will walk the narrow and cramped path, narrow your stomach. For if you feed it and expand it, you will not be able to fulfill your promise. Pay attention, and you will hear the words: "Wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to the destruction of fornication, and many are those who go in through it. Narrow, however, is the gate and narrow is the way that leads to the life of purity, and few are those who find it"! (cf. Mt 7:13-14)
The prince of demons is the fallen light-bearer, i.e. Lucifer. The prince of passions is gluttony.
Sitting down at the table where the meal is set out, mentally place the remembrance of death and the Judgment in the center. And even then you will hardly tame this passion a little. When you drink, do not cease to think of the vinegar and gall of your Lord, and you will certainly refrain, or you will sigh, or you will make the thought more humble.
Do not be deceived: you will not be freed from Pharaoh, nor will you see the heavenly Passover, unless you always eat bitter herbs and unleavened bread. Bitter herbs mean: the effort and labor of fasting. And unleavened bread: thought without bloating.
Let the word of the one who says unite with your breathing: "But when demons troubled me, I put on sackcloth and humbled my soul with fasting; and the prayer of my soul had an echo" (Ps 34:13).
Fasting is violence against nature and depriving the throat of the pleasure to which it is accustomed, extinguishing the flame of bodily lust, removing bad thoughts, liberation from dreams, purification of prayer, candlestick of the soul, guard of the mind, salvation from coarseness, door of affection, calm sighing, cheerful contrition, repose of full talk, foundation of a life in silence, guardian of obedience, relief of sleep, health of the body, culprit of perfection, forgiveness of sins, door and bliss of paradise.
Let us also ask this enemy of ours, the chief among all our terrible enemies, for he is the gate of passion, he is the fall of Adam, the ruin of Esau, the destruction of the Israelites, the nakedness of Noah, the treachery of Gomorrah, the incest of Lot, the execution of the sons of Elijah the priest, the leader of all paganism: where does he come from, and who are his descendants, who is it that suppresses him, who is it that finally destroys him? "Tell us, O tyrant of all mortals, who bought everything with gold and did not satisfy our hunger, how do you enter us? What do you provoke in us? How do you go out of us"?
And he, irritated by our persistent questions, answered tyrannically, fiercely and furiously: "Why do you shower me with insults, when you are subject to me? And how can you try to separate yourself from me? I am bound to you by nature. My gate is the nature of food itself. The cause of my insatiability is habit. And the basis of my passion is long-standing habit, insensitivity of the soul, and forgetfulness of death. And how do you ask me to tell you the names of my descendants? I will count them, and they will be as the sand on the seashore. But still, hear who are my firstborn and favorites.
My firstborn son is the spirit of fornication. The second after him is the petrification of the heart. The third is sleep, that ocean of impure thoughts, with its filthy waves. The depth of unknown and unspoken impurities flows from me. My daughters are: laziness, talkativeness, impudence, ridicule, joking, arguing, stubbornness, disobedience, insensitivity, slavery of the spirit, boasting, rudeness, a penchant for luxury, to which is added impure prayer and wandering thoughts, and often sudden and unexpected events, followed by despair, the most dangerous of all.
The memory of my own sins wars against me, but does not conquer me. The thought of death is my constant enemy. But there is nothing in man that could completely destroy me. He who has received the Comforter prays to Him against me, and He, having been prayed to, does not allow me to act passionately. Those who have not tasted Him, certainly seek to enjoy my delights.
A heroic victory! It is obvious that he who has proven himself stronger than this passion, rushes towards perfection and the highest heights of prudence.
1. The celebration of the holidays: the holidays should not be celebrated in drunkenness, but in the renewal of the mind and the purification of the soul (Ilija Kritski, Shol. 5, sol. 873 A).
2. Evagrius the Antichrist: Evagrius of Pontus (350-399), a contemporary and friend of Saint Basil the Great and Saint Gregory of Nazianzus. He was a deacon of Saint Gregory. Around 385 he left Constantinople for Jerusalem, and then to the Nitrian Desert (Egypt), where he remained until his death in strict asceticism and contemplation. He was a very educated man, so that certain writers consider him the first intellectual to dedicate himself to the hermitic life in the Egyptian desert. He wrote a lot, mainly about monasticism and ascetic life, but little has been preserved, because his teachings were condemned for Origenism at the Fifth Council of the Church (553). He is known for wanting to give monastic asceticism a philosophical basis, to fit it into a metaphysical and anthropological system inspired by Neoplatonism (cf. Jean Meuendorff, St Gregoire Ralamas et la mustique orthodoxe, 1959, p. 18).
3. When the ninth hour comes the next day: according to the old monastic rules, one ate only once a day, at the ninth hour, i.e. around 3 p.m.
ON INBODILY CHASTITY AND PRUDENCE, WHICH THE CORRUPT ACHIEVE THROUGH LABOR AND SWEAT [1]
Chastity, or purity, is the adoption of an incorporeal nature. Chastity is the desired home of Christ, and the earthly heaven of the heart. Chastity is a most extraordinary supernatural denial of nature, and a truly miraculous contest of the mortal and transient body with incorporeal beings.
Chaste is the man who has suppressed love with love, and who has extinguished the flame of his passions with unearthly fire.
Prudence is the general name for all virtues. Prudence is purity of soul and body.
A prudent man is one who, even in his sleep, has no passionate movements in his body. A prudent man is one who has forever acquired perfect insensitivity to differences in sex. The measure and pinnacle of perfect and complete purity is to have the same attitude towards living beings as towards inanimate things, towards people as towards animals.
Let none of those who have learned purity consider success their own merit, since our nature is incapable of conquering itself. Where nature suffers defeat, the coming of Him who is above nature is recognized. Outside of every dispute, the lesser yields to the greater.
The beginning of purity is in the disagreement with impure thoughts, and in the discharges that occur from time to time without any impure images. The middle of purity is when we have natural sexual desires from abundant food, but we are without impure fantasies and without discharges. And, the end is the mortification of the body, which follows the mortification of thoughts.
Truly blessed is the man who has acquired complete indifference to every body, color, and beauty.
The pure man is not the one who has kept this mud of his, that is, his body, undefiled, but the one who has perfectly subdued his limbs to the soul. The great man is the one who remains without any passion at the touch of the body, untouched, having overcome the lustful gaze by contemplating heavenly beauty.
He who drives away the dog of lust by prayer is like a man fighting a lion; he who refutes it by refutations is like a man who has already put his enemy to flight; and the man who has already completely despised the attacks of that dog has risen from the grave, although he is still in this life. If the proof of true purity is to wake up without lustful feelings in impure dreams, then it is certainly the ultimate degree of fornication to have an outflow in the waking state from the very thoughts.
He who fights this adversary with physical labor and sweat resembles a man who has bound his enemy with a weak cord; he who fights him with restraint and vigilance is like one who puts the enemy in iron chains; and he who fights this adversary with a humble mind, not with anger and thirst, is like a man who has killed his enemy and hidden him in the sand (cf. Ex 2:12). By sand understand humility. No food for the passions grows from it, for it is dust and ashes.
One overcomes this tormentor by deeds, another by humility, and the third by divine revelation. The first is like the morning star, the second like the full moon, and the third like the bright sun. But all of them have common life in heaven. And just as light appears with the dawn, and after it the sun is born, so what we have said must be understood and seen in action.
The fox pretends to be asleep, and the demon feigns prudence. Only, the fox does it to deceive the bird, and the demon to ruin our souls.
Do not trust this mud all your life, and do not rely on it until you meet Christ. Do not assume that abstinence will keep you from falling: and one who has tasted nothing at all was cast down from heaven [2].
Some wise men have well defined renunciation, defining it as enmity with the body and struggle with the stomach. Beginners fall into fornication usually because of food. Intermediates, besides from the same cause, also because of pride. And those who approach perfection, fall solely because of condemnation of their neighbor, and from nothing else.
Some consider the incarcerated to be happy by nature, as people who have freed themselves from the tyranny of the body. And I consider that those spiritual eunuchs are blessed who every day stab themselves with pure thoughts like a knife.
I have seen people who have fallen against their will. I have also seen those who have willingly desired to fall, but have not succeeded. And I have considered these latter to be more unfortunate than those who fall every day. For, although incapable of sinning, they desire to smell the stench of sin.
Woe is he who falls. Woe is even more woeful, however, is he who drags another along, because he will bear the weight of another person's sin and the burden of another person's pleasure.
Do not even think of defeating the demon of fornication with arguments and counterarguments, for he can always prove himself right, since he fights with us by nature. He who wants to fight with his flesh or to conquer it with his own strength, struggles in vain. For unless the Lord destroys the house of the body and builds the house of the soul, he watches and fasts in vain who would mortify his body (cf. Ps 126:1-2). Confess before the Lord the weakness of your nature, fully aware of your incapacity, and you will imperceptibly receive the gift of prudence.
In lustful people, as one of them told me from his own experience, after he had sobered up, there is a feeling of an irresistible urge for bodies and a shameless and cruel spirit, hidden in the depths of the heart, which makes the man who is attacked feel a physical pain in his heart as if he were being roasted in a red-hot oven, a spirit that does not fear God, that does not consider the memory of eternal torments as nothing, that abhors prayer. And, while he commits sin, he even looks upon the bones of the dead as soulless stones. This is a spirit that makes a man, subjected to its action, as if he were insane, as if he were beside himself, intoxicated by the eternal urge of rational and irrational beings. And, if the days of temptation were not shortened, not a single soul clothed in this mud dissolved in blood and filthy liquid would be saved.
Why is that? Because all creation insatiably longs for its kindred: blood for blood, worm for worm, mud for mud. Why then should not flesh also long for flesh? Yet we, who conquer nature and long for the Kingdom of Heaven, try to deceive this deceiver with various tricks.
Blessed are the people who have not experienced this struggle. Let us pray to God to deliver us from such temptations forever. For those who have slipped into the aforementioned pit are far removed from those who climb and descend the ladder. For such a climb, it is necessary for them to shed much sweat in the strictest fasting.
Let us see, that perhaps our spiritual enemies, as it usually happens in earthly war, in their action against us do not each have their own special combat task, a strange thing that I have noticed in people when they are tempted. And, I have seen sins, one more serious than the other. He who has a mind to hear, let him hear!
The devil is often wont, especially among ascetics and those who lead a religious life, to use all his strength, and care, and cunning, and skill, and cunning, to lead us into sins contrary to nature, and not into sins which are in accordance with human nature. Therefore, often, living together with women and not being tempted at all by lust or impure thoughts, certain people confess to themselves, and do not know, poor things, that there is no need for a lesser perdition where a greater one threatens.
I think that these most unfortunate executioners ruin us, poor people, with unnatural sins for two reasons: first, because we carry within ourselves the possibility of such a fall everywhere, and secondly, because such sins bring upon us a greater punishment. This was realized by the one who first led the wild donkeys, and then in the most pitiful way was himself led and mocked by the infernal donkeys [3]. And the one who ate the bread of heaven was then deprived of the great gift. The strangest thing is that even after his conversion or repentance, our teacher, Antony, said with great pain: "The great pillar has been overthrown." (However, the wise Antony hid the manner of the fall. He knew, for he knew, that there is carnal fornication without another body).
There is a certain death and danger of falling within us, which we always carry with us and within ourselves, especially in our youth. I did not dare to put anything more about it on paper, because my hand was stopped by the one who said: For it is shameful both to speak of what some do in secret (Eph 5:12), and also to write and to hear! This body of mine (and silent) enemy (but also friend!), Paul called death, because he says: Who will deliver me from the body of this death (Rom 7:24)? And another theologian calls it passionate, servile and nocturnal [4].
Why, I would like to know, why did all the holy men use such names for the body? If the body is death, then he who conquers it certainly dies no more. And who is the man who will live and not see the death (Ps 88:49) of his filthy body?
I beg with all my heart to examine who is greater: the one who died and rose again, or the one who did not die at all. He who gives priority to the second is mistaken: Christ both died and rose again. And he who gives priority to the first, thereby teaches people who are dying, i.e. falling, not to give in to despair.
Our inhuman enemy and advocate of fornication says that God is philanthropic and that He easily forgives this passion, as natural. However, if we examine the lure of demons, we will see that after a sin has been committed, they call God a just and merciless judge. The first they tell us to draw us into sin; and the second, to throw us into despair. When sadness and despair creep into us, we are no longer ready to give in to the same sin again. And when despair is extinguished, our tyrant again tells us about God's philanthropy.
As pure and incorporeal, the Lord rejoices in the intactness and purity of our body. Demons, as some say, do not rejoice in anything else as much as the stench of fornication, nor do they rejoice in any other passion as much as in defiling the body.
Purity is the adoption of God and obedience to God as far as is possible for man. The mother of natural beauties is the earth, soaked with dew, and the mother of purity is solitude with obedience. The perfection of the body acquired by the feat of solitude, due to frequent going out into the world, does not remain fearless. The perfection, however, which comes from obedience, is everywhere reliable and fearless.
I saw how pride can be the cause of a humble mind, and I remembered the one who says: Who has known the mind of the Lord (Rom 11:34)! The pit and fruit of pride is a fall. And a fall often becomes the cause of a humble mind in those who are inclined to a humble mind.
He who wants to conquer the demon of fornication by gluttony and overeating is like a man who puts out a fire with oil. He who tries to quell this struggle by abstinence, and by nothing else but abstinence, is like a man who thinks he can save himself from the open sea by swimming with only one hand. Combine humility with abstinence, for the one without the other is of no use.
Whoever notices that a passion is increasingly taking over him should first of all attack it, and only it, especially if it is a natural enemy. For if this passion is not conquered, victory over the others will be of no use to us. And if we strike this Egyptian on the head (cf. Exod 2:11), we too will certainly see God in the depths of humility.
During one temptation, I felt that this wolf wanted to deceive me, causing in my soul unreasoned joy, and tears, and consolation. In my inexperience, I thought it was about fruit, not loss.
If every sin that a man commits is outside the body, while he who commits fornication sins against his own body (certainly because the very nature of the body is defiled by the discharge, which cannot happen with any other sin (cf. 1 Cor 6:18), I wonder why we are accustomed to say only: "He has sinned" in the case of every sin that brings a man down, and when we hear that someone has committed fornication, we say with pain: "He also has fallen"? [5]
A fish flees from a hook as quickly as it can. So too does a pleasure-loving soul flee from loneliness.
When he wants to bind two faces with a shameful bond, the devil tries both sides, and only then starts to kindle the flame of passion.
Those who are prone to lust are often compassionate and merciful, capable of weeping with the sad, and also of flattering. Those who are concerned with purity usually do not have such qualities.
A wise man asked me a terrible question, saying: “What sin, except murder and apostasy, is the gravest of all?” And I answered: “Falling into heresy or heresy.” “So how,” he said, “does the Catholic Church receive heretics when they sincerely confess their heresy and declare them worthy of the Sacrament of Communion, and does it receive one who has committed fornication, even when he confesses and renounces his sin, but for a certain period of time, according to the provisions of the apostolic canons, it excludes him from the Most Pure Mysteries?” [6]. When I heard this answer, I was greatly perplexed, and this difficult question remained for me unclear and unresolved.
We need to examine, evaluate, and be careful when the enjoyment we feel while singing in worship comes from the demon of fornication, and when from the words of the Spirit and the grace and power contained in them.
Don't forget yourself, young man! I have known some young people who prayed with all their hearts for those they loved, driven to do so by fornication, thinking that they were repaying the debt of memory and the law of love.
Physical defilement can also occur as a result of physical contact itself. Nothing is more dangerous than this sense, i.e. sense of touch. Remember the one who wrapped his hand in terisrtium to carry his very old mother [7], so refrain and do not touch with your hand either exposed or covered parts of your own or other people's body.
I think that no one can call themselves completely holy without first transforming this earth into a sanctuary, if such a transformation is possible in this life.
When we lie down in bed, let us be careful: then the mind itself, without the body, fights with demons. And if it is sensual, it gladly becomes our traitor. May the memory of death always sleep and rise with you, as well as the unceasing mental Jesus prayer, for nothing else can help you in sleep like that.
Some think that this struggle and discharge occur only because of food. However, I have also seen people who were seriously ill and who fasted the most strictly, how they were often defiled by discharge. On one occasion, I asked one of the very experienced and intelligent monks to tell me something about it. That famous ascetic answered quite clearly: "Discharges in sleep," he says, "can occur due to taking large quantities of food and due to excessive rest; they can also occur due to arrogance, when we become conceited because we have not had discharges for a certain time; finally, they can be the result of judging our neighbors. For these last two reasons," he says, "discharges can also occur in sick people, and I suppose for all three reasons. And whoever comes to the conclusion that none of the aforementioned causes are at issue in his case is blessed, a worker of perfection, because he only suffers such things because of the malice of demons, from time to time, when God relents, in order to gain the greatest humility through a sinless accident.
No one should daydream about what they dreamed about. And that is the plan of the demons, to defile us with what we dreamed about while we were awake.
Let us hear something about another trick of our enemies. Food, harmful to our body, causes us illness only after a certain time or a day later. This is very often the case with causes that defile the soul. I have seen people who enjoy themselves, but are not immediately attacked. And I have seen people who have eaten with women and stood with women, without any dirty thoughts towards them. But when they had become a little free and self-confident, thinking that they already had peace and security, a disaster suddenly befell them in their own cell.
And what a misfortune can befall a man, physically or mentally, when he is completely alone, only he who has experienced it knows. He who has not experienced it does not need to know. At that time, we can be well served by: sackcloth, ashes, standing all night, hunger and thirst that burns the tongue quenched by just a drop of water, visiting graves, and above all humility of heart, and if possible a father or a good and prudent brother who would be able to help us. I would consider it a miracle if someone completely alone saved his ship on that stormy sea.
The same sin deserves a hundred times more severe punishment when committed by one person than when committed by another, depending on the circumstances, place, spiritual level of the person, and many other factors.
Someone told me about a strange and most sublime purity: "A man," he says, "saw a very beautiful woman and with all his soul glorified the Creator for her. One look at her was enough for that man, overcome with the love of God, to shed a flood of tears. And it was strange to see how the very thing that would have brought another to ruin brought to that man a crown of heavenly glory"! [8]. If such a man experiences the same feeling and behaves the same in all such cases, then he has risen from the dead as incorruptible even before the general resurrection.
We should adhere to the same standard in regard to music and singing. Regardless of whether they listen to secular or spiritual songs, God-loving people are filled with joy and love, and they drown in tears. With the pleasure-loving it is the opposite.
As we have already said, some people are attacked by devils much more in deserted places. No wonder, demons prefer to stay there. For the Lord, for our salvation, has banished them to deserts and abysses. Demons of fornication terribly attack a solitary person, in order to expel him from the desert into the world, convincing him that his stay in the desert has not benefited him. And when we are in the world, demons leave us, in order to gain the conviction that they will not attack us outside the desert and, with this conviction, remain with the worldly.
Where the enemy attacks us, there we too undoubtedly fight fiercely. He among us who is not attacked presents himself as a friend of the enemy.
The hand of the Lord protects us when we are in the world due to some need, perhaps often also through the prayer of a spiritual father, so that the Lord is not blasphemed because of us. Sometimes this is due to our insensitivity, or because we have previously experienced a lot and are fed up with what we see and hear, or because the demons deliberately depart from us, leaving us with the demon of pride, which replaces all other demons with itself.
All of you who want to learn purity, hear about another trick and cunning of this deceiver, and beware!
One who was in this temptation told me that the demon of the flesh often conceals its presence in a man, arousing in the monk extreme piety, perhaps even causing him to shed a flood of tears while he sits or talks with women, urging him to teach them the remembrance of death and the Judgment, and to speak to them about prudence, so that they, poor women, seduced by his words and apparent piety, might run to the wolf as to a shepherd. And he, even more miserable, having freed himself by associating with women, in the end falls with them.
Let us flee, let us flee, so that we may not see or hear about the fruit of which we promised: "We will not taste it"!
For I wonder how we could consider ourselves stronger than the prophet David [9]. That is impossible!
The glory of purity is so sublime and great that some fathers dared to call it perfection. Some say that it is impossible to call oneself pure after having once tasted bodily sin. But I, refuting this opinion, said that it is possible and convenient for one who only wants to make a wild olive tree tame. And if the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven were entrusted to virgins in the flesh, perhaps that opinion would be correct. But let his supporters be ashamed, for he who had a mother-in-law became pure and took the keys of the Kingdom [10].
The serpent of lust appears in many forms: it persuades the inexperienced to try it once and then give it up; and those who have already experienced it, this wretched one leads them to remember their sin, so that through the memory they may fall into sin again. Many among the former remain calm thanks to their ignorance. Among the latter, many suffer anxiety and struggle because they have tasted this abomination. Moreover, the opposite also happens.
If we wake up pure and peaceful, let us know that it is the secret work of the holy angels, especially if we have fallen asleep with great prayer and prudence. And sometimes we wake up restless, after impure dreams. I saw the wicked one acting arrogantly and great, who trembles and rages against me like a cedar of Lebanon, and I passed by him with restraint. And behold, his anger was not as before. And I sought him, calming my thoughts, and he was not found in me, nor was there any trace of him (cf. Ps 36:35-36).
He who has conquered the flesh has conquered nature. And he who has conquered nature has become, without a doubt, supernatural. Such a man is but a little, if not a little, lower than the angels (Ps 8:6). It is not strange that the incorporeal should fight the incorporeal. It is a wonder, however, that a corporeal being, in the struggle with the flesh as with its treacherous enemy, should actually conquer incorporeal enemies [11].
The kind Lord also shows His great concern for us in that He restrains the shamelessness of the female sex with shame, as if it were a bridle. For if women alone went to men, no man would be saved.
According to the explanation of the wise fathers, one should distinguish between: accession, i.e. attachment, union, consent, i.e. agreement, enslavement, struggle, and the so-called passion in the soul. The blessed fathers define accession as a simple word, or an image of anything, which reappears and enters the heart. Union means talking with what has appeared, regardless of whether with passion or dispassion. Consent is the soul's agreement with what has appeared, united with enjoyment. Enslavement is the violent and involuntary seduction of the heart or permanent intercourse with an object, which destroys our good mental health. They define struggle as a balance of forces between the one who attacks and the one who defends, where the latter wins, or is defeated solely by his own will. They call passion a vice that has passionately entrenched itself in the soul over a long period of time, and which through habit has become its natural property, so that the soul itself, voluntarily, rushes towards it.
Of all these, the first is blameless. The second not entirely. The third, according to the state in which the ascetic finds himself. Struggle is the cause of victory wreaths or condemnation, and enslavement is valued differently if it is a time of prayer, and differently at any other time, differently in relation to insignificant things, and differently in relation to bad thoughts.
Passion is subject to all people either to future conversion or to future torment. Therefore, whoever approaches the accession without passion cuts off all the latter with one blow.
The most astute learned fathers have noticed another thought, more subtle than those we have just spoken of. Some call it a seizure of the mind, because without duration and without word or image, it instantly arouses passion in the ascetic. Among the spirits that tempt the body, there is none so swift, so swift and insidious as this. Namely, it appears in the soul in a small representation, without delay, without duration and without word, and in some even without their awareness.
Whoever, therefore, has succeeded in achieving such refinement of reason through weeping can teach us how the soul passionately fornicates with only the eye, and a simple glance, and a touch of the hand, and listening to a melody, without any thought or consideration.
Some say that passion takes possession of the body by the thoughts of the heart. And some, on the contrary, maintain that bodily feelings give rise to impure thoughts. The former also say: if the mind did not lead, the body would not follow. And others cite in their defense the evil workings of bodily passions, saying: "Often impure thoughts enter the heart through a gentle glance, or a touch of the hand, or through a pleasant smell, or by hearing a pleasant voice."
Whoever is able in the Lord, let him teach us to resolve this question. For all this is necessary and useful for those who consciously lead an ascetic life. Such an explanation is not at all necessary for those who labor and live in simplicity of heart. Neither is knowledge for everyone, nor is blessed simplicity for everyone, that armor that protects a person from all the temptations of evil spirits.
Some passions pass from the soul into the body, and others go the other way. The second happens to people who live in the world, and the first happens to those who are in religious life, since they have no opportunity for anything else. As for me, I would say this about it: You will seek among the wicked, and you will not find (Prov. 14:6)!
After a long struggle, finally driven out of our hearts, beaten with the stones of fasting and the sword of humility, the wretched demon, the companion of our clay body, like a worm that has crept into it, seeks to defile us, teasing us with certain unexpected and inconvenient gestures. People who obey the demon of ambition are most susceptible to this. For they are filled with vanity as soon as they notice that there are no more lustful thoughts in their hearts.
And that what we say is not untrue, they can see for themselves if they carefully examine themselves, after they have already reached a certain degree of solitude. They will inevitably find in the depths of their hearts a thought, which hides in it like a snake in dung, and which whispers to them that the purity of heart, achieved to a certain extent, they should attribute to their own effort and zeal, and not even think, poor things, of those words: What do you have that you did not receive (1 Cor 4:7) either from God or through the help of other people and their prayers.
Therefore, let them pay attention to themselves and with all their might ensure that with great humility of mind they kill and cast out the aforementioned serpent from their hearts, so that, freed from it, they too may one day take off their skin garments (cf. Gen. 3:21) and sing to the Lord a victorious hymn of purity, as the innocent, that is, the children of Jerusalem, once did. Only when they take off the garments of evil will all the innocence and all the humility of their nature be revealed.
This demon, more than others, watches for the moments when we are unable to move our bodies to pray against him. Then this evildoer tries most to impose a fight on us. For those who have not yet acquired the true prayer of the heart, the feat of physical prayer is suitable, i.e. spreading out the hands, beating the chest, raising pleading glances to heaven, sighing deeply, often falling to their knees. However, they often cannot do all this in the presence of other people. Therefore, the demons try to attack them at that very moment. And, since they are unable to oppose them with the power of the mind and the invisible power of prayer, they succumb, perhaps even against their will, to their attackers.
In such cases, if you can, immediately go away to a secluded place and, if possible, look up with your spiritual eye. If not, then look up at least with your physical eye, holding your hands motionless in the form of a cross, so that by this sign you may also shame and defeat Amalek (cf. Exod 17:11). Cry out to the Almighty to save you, and not with choice words, but with a humble whisper, beginning first with: Have mercy on me, for I am powerless (Ps 6:3)! Then you will experience the power of the Most High in your own experience, and by your cry to the Invisible One, in an invisible way, drive away invisible enemies. A man who is accustomed to fighting in this way will soon begin to drive away his enemies from himself with the very thought of it. For with this second gift God rewards ascetics for their first feat. And rightly so!
While I was at a prayer meeting, I noticed that a venerable brother was overcome by impure thoughts. Not finding a suitable place for secret prayer, he went to the privy as if for a natural need, and there he fervently prayed to God against the attacker. And when I reproached him for the indecent place in which he prayed, he replied: "To drive away impure thoughts, I prayed in an impure place, to cleanse myself of impurity."
All demons strive to darken the mind, so that they can then insert into our soul what they like. For if the mind does not close its eyes, the treasury cannot be plundered. And the demon of fornication does this much more than all the others. Having seized the mind as a leading faculty of man, he often leads and persuades us to do, even in the presence of others, what only people who are not in a pure state of consciousness do. And when after a certain time the mind sobers up, we are ashamed of our dishonorable deeds and words, or actions, not only of those who looked at us, but also of ourselves, horrified at our former blindness. As a result, some, reflecting on this, often stopped doing such things.
Flee from this attacker when, after committing such a bad deed, he prevents you from praying, from showing piety, from watching. Remember him who said: "Because my soul suffers, tormented by sin like a tyrant, I will take revenge on its enemies" (cf. Lk 18:5).
Who has conquered the body? The one who has humbled the heart. And who has humbled the heart? The one who has renounced himself. For how can a man not be humbled in whom his own will has died?!
Among passionate people, some are more passionate than others. There are those who confess their own filthiness with lust and enjoyment.
Impure and shameful thoughts in the heart are usually born from the deceiver of the heart, from the demon of fornication. They are cured by abstinence and perfect contempt.
In what way and by what means should I bind this friend of mine, that is, the body, and how should I judge him according to the example of other passions, I do not know. Before I bind him, he is untied. And before I begin to judge him, I reconcile myself with him. And before I begin to torment him, I pity him. How can I hate what I love by nature? How can I free myself from what I am bound to forever? How can I kill what is to be resurrected with me? How can I make imperishable what has received a perishable nature? What reason can I give to him who can answer me with so many natural reasons?
If I bind it with fasting when I judge my neighbor, I surrender to it again. If I defeat it by ceasing to judge, when I become proud in my heart, it overthrows me again. It is both my collaborator and my opponent, my helper and my rival, my guard and my spy. When I caress it, it attacks me. If I exhaust it, it weakens. If I rest it, it becomes unruly. If I burden it, it cannot bear it. If I abuse it, I expose myself to danger. If I ruin it, I have no one with whom to acquire virtue. I am ashamed of it, and I embrace it. What is this secret with me? What is the meaning of my such a constitution? How did I become both my own enemy and my own friend?!
Tell me, tell me, oh my wife, my nature! I'm not going to ask anyone else about what's related to you. How can I remain unscathed by you? How can I avoid natural danger, when I promised Christ to wage war with you? How can I defeat your tyranny, when I voluntarily decided to conquer you by force?
And the body, answering its soul, said: "I will not tell you anything that you yourself do not know, but only what we both know. My dear father is self-love. The cause of external inflamation lies in the care of the body, and in general in rest, and the cause of internal passionate feelings is found in previous rest and the memory of voluptuous deeds committed. Conceived, I give birth to sins. Born, they in turn give birth to death through despair. If you know my and your obvious and deep weakness, you have tied my hands. If you torture your throat with fasting, you have tied my feet so that I cannot walk. If you add obedience to all this, you have freed yourself from me. If you acquire humility, you have cut off my head."
The fifteenth victory: he who is in the body, and has gained it, has died and risen, and already here has a foretaste of future immortality.
1. At the end of the Scholia with Lesson XIV (sol. 880 S), Minja also has a short text entitled ''Preface to the lesson on bodies and people who live in the body as if outside the body'', whose author, however, is not indicated. In the Salesian edition, this text is completely omitted as inauthentic. Nevertheless, we translate it: ''We have just heard from frenzied gluttony that its birth is bodily, i.e. lustful temptations. No wonder, our ancient forefather, Adam, also teaches this. If his stomach had not overcome him, he would not have known a woman in his wife. Therefore, those who keep the first commandment do not fall into the second transgression, but remain sons of Adam, not knowing what Adam was after sin, only a little lower than the angels (Ps 8:5); and this, so that evil would not become immortal, as the one who was nicknamed the Theologian says''.
2. He was cast out of heaven: this refers to Lucifer, who, as a spiritual being, never tasted nor had the need to taste bodily food, yet he fell thanks to pride.
3. Hellish donkeys: certainly, demons. It is not known who this ascetic is. We can only conclude that he was a contemporary of Saint Anthony the Great (250-350), that he delivered food to hermits and solitary people (hence "he led wild donkeys"), and that in his asceticism he had reached an extraordinarily high level of perfection.
4. Another theology: it is not clear whether St. Gregory of Nazianzus (328-390) or St. Pope Gregory I the Great (540-604).
5. Such and such has fallen: Whoever deviates from the right path returns by the same path by which he strayed. Whoever renounces with his tongue, with his tongue again confesses the faith; whoever has stolen with his hands can return with his hands. The same is true of other sins. But a man who sins by fornication does not return by the path he fell by, but by another: he weeps, fasts, sighs. That is why fornication is called a fall in the true sense of the word. Virginity is particularly characteristic of monastic life, as is expressed by the very name and vow of a monk, i.e. one who lives alone, without a wife. A monk, therefore, who violates his virginity, truly falls, having violated what he promised God (Shol. 24, sol. 912 SD).
6. He decides from the Most Pure Mysteries: Heresy or heresy is a deviation of the mind expressed by the tongue, and therefore a sin. And, fornication ruins all the senses and powers of the body and soul, and corrupts, distorts the divine nature and likeness in man, throwing him into non-being, which is why it is called the fall (Shol. 26, sol. 912-913 A).
7. The Russian translation from 1891 refers to the Paterik, Letter 13, in this case, but we were unable to access that Paterik.
8. According to the scholia of Elias of Crete, the Ladderer here actually mentions Saint Non, the bishop who baptized Saint Pelagia, a famous sinner who, after her repentance and baptism, became famous for her holiness. Saint Non was a great ascetic in the Tabene Monastery (Egypt), and for this reason was elected in 448 first as bishop of Edessa and then of Iliopolis. He died in Edessa in 471 (cf. Biography, November 10). The God-pleasing Pelagia was first a famous sinner of Antioch, famous for her beauty and wealth. When arriving in Antioch, for the council, Bishop Non of Iliopolis saw Pelagia, and, amazed by her beauty, wept. The beauty of this pagan harlot and her care for her body made him think about how little we care for the beauty and adornment of our souls, the bride of Christ. In addition, he prayed for the sinner: "Lord, do not destroy the work of your hands! Do not allow such beauty to remain in debauchery, in the power of demons, but turn her to yourself, that through her your holy name may be glorified." And indeed, through the miraculous ways of God's plan, the sinner heard the word of God, repented and was baptized, and spent the rest of her life in harsh asceticism as a nun in the desert on the Mount of Olives near Jerusalem, but under the male name of Pelagius (cf. Biography of October 8; Saint Pelagius died around 457).
9. Stronger than the prophet David: John the Ladderer is referring to David's sin with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite (2 Sam. 11:1 etc.).
10. Who had a mother-in-law: this refers to the holy apostle Peter, who had a mother-in-law (Mt 8:14), i.e. was married, and yet received the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven (Mt 16:19).
11. Incorporeal enemies: demons (cf. Shol. 41, sol. 920
ON SILVER LOVE AND LOSS OF ACQUISITION
Most wise teachers usually place this hundred-headed demon of avarice behind the described tyrant. Lest we, so ignorant, should change the order of the wise, we will follow their order and rule. Therefore, if it pleases, we will consider the disease itself, and then in a few words the method of its treatment.
The love of money is idolatry (see Col. 3:5), the daughter of unbelief, the excuse for weakness, the herald of old age, the forerunner of famine, the prophet of drought.
The avaricious man mocks the Gospel [1]. He is a conscious transgressor.
He who has acquired love wastes money. And he who says he has both deceives himself.
He who mourns himself also renounces his own body, and in case of need does not spare it either.
Do not say that you are gathering treasure for the poor. The kingdom of heaven could be purchased for just two pennies (cf. Lk 21:1-4).
One day, a hospitable and a greedy man met. And the second called the first foolish.
Whoever has conquered this passion is free from worries. And whoever is bound by it will never pray purely.
Greed begins under the pretext of charity, and ends as hatred of the poor. Until he has accumulated money, the greedy man is merciful; as soon as he has money, he clenches his hands.
I have seen people, poor in money, enrich their spirits in the company of the poor in spirit and forget their former misery.
Despondency or discouragement is alien to a monk who loves money. He constantly remembers the words of the apostle: " Let the idler not eat" (2 Thessalonians 2:10), and "These hands of mine have ministered to my needs and those who were with me" (Acts 20:34).
Non-acquisitiveness, i.e. voluntary poverty, is the rejection of earthly cares, a carefree life, an undisturbed journey, faith in the commandments of God, the removal of sorrow. A monk who is in voluntary poverty is the master of the world, who has entrusted all care for himself to God, and through faith has made everything his servants. He will not tell anyone about his needs, and what comes to him, he receives as from the hand of the Lord. An ascetic who is in voluntary poverty is the son of impartiality, who considers everything he has as if he had nothing. Leaving the world, he considers everything to be rubbish. If, however, he still regrets something, he has not yet become a lover of poverty.
A man who is in voluntary poverty has pure prayer, while a man who is greedy prays thinking of earthly things.
To those who live in obedience, the love of money is alien. For when they have surrendered their bodies, what else can they consider their own? Such people are "damaged" in only one way: that they can now easily and readily move from place to place. I have noticed that ownership of certain things can tie a monk to one place. But I have nevertheless come to the conclusion that those monks who wander for the Lord are more blessed than them.
He who has tasted heavenly things easily despises earthly things. And he who has not tasted heavenly things rejoices in the acquisition of earthly things.
An unwisely poor monk suffers a double harm: he partes with present goods and is deprived of future ones.
Oh, monks, let us not be weaker in faith than the birds: they do not care for anything and do not gather into barns (Mt 6:26).
Great is the man who piously renounces his possessions, and holy is the man who renounces his own will. The former will receive a hundredfold, whether in property or in gifts of mercy, and the latter will inherit eternal life.
Just as there are always waves at sea, so anger and sadness never leave the greedy.
He who despises material goods has escaped litigation and arguments. And a greedy man is pursued to death for a needle.
Fearless faith puts an end to worries, and the memory of death leads us to renounce our bodies.
There was no trace of avarice in Job: that is why he remained calm even when he was deprived of everything (cf. Job 1:22).
The love of money is called, and is, the root of all evil (cf. 1 Tim 6:10). It leads to hatred, to theft and envy, to separation and enmity, to strife and resentment, to cruelty and murder.
Some have managed to set a great forest on fire with a small flame. And by means of a small virtue, many have managed to avoid all these passions mentioned so far. This virtue is called impartiality, and it is born of experiential knowledge of God, and concern about what we will say in our defense at the moment of going to the other world.
Whoever has read the entire teaching on the mother of evil or the indulgence of the stomach with attention knows that as the second child in her terrible and accursed offspring, the stone of insensitivity is mentioned. But the big-headed serpent of idolatry or avarice prevented me from giving this stone its proper place in order. I do not know how, however, the wise fathers gave avarice the third place in the chain of the eight passions. And now, having finished a proportionate exposition of avarice, we intend to talk about insensitivity, the third passion in order, and the second in origin. After that we will speak of sleep and wakefulness. Not only that, but we will say a few words about childish and cowardly timidity. All these are the diseases of beginners.
Another stage: whoever wins this battle travels with his spirit to heaven, relieved of everything material.
The sixteenth battle: whoever wins it has either gained love or been freed from worries.
1. The avaricious man mocks the Gospel: in what way? The Gospel advice: Sell all that you have, etc. (Mt 19:21), the avaricious man mocks as impossible, saying: "If everyone sells his possessions, who will buy them?"?!
ON INSENSITIVITY, I.E. THE NULLING OF THE SOUL AND THE DEATH OF THE MIND BEFORE THE DEATH OF THE BODY
Insensitivity, whether physical or spiritual, is a deadened feeling, which, through long illness and neglect, has reached a state of complete numbness. Insensitivity is neglect that has passed into habit and lulled the mind. It is the birth of a bad habit, a snare for zeal, a noose for courage, an ignorance of affection, the door of despair, the mother of forgetfulness which, in turn, gives birth to its own mother again, the exclusion of the fear of God.
The insensitive monk is a foolish philosopher, a teacher who condemns himself by his teachings, a lawyer who represents the opposing party, a blind man who teaches to see. He talks about healing a wound, but does not stop scratching it; he talks against passion, but does not stop eating harmful food; he prays against his passion, but rushes to satisfy it; when he satisfies it, he is angry with himself, and is not ashamed of his words, wretch! "I do not do well," he cries, and earnestly continues the same sin; he prays against sin with his mouth, but fights for it with his body; he thinks of death, but lives as if he would never die; he sighs at parting with this world, but slumbers as if it were eternal; he discusses abstinence, but thinks only of how to please his stomach; he reads about the Last Judgment, but begins to laugh; about vanity, but by reading it feeds his vanity; he talks at length about vigil, but immediately falls asleep himself; He praises prayer, and himself flees from it as from a whip; he considers obedience blessed, and he himself is the first to disobey; he praises those who care for nothing earthly, and he himself is not ashamed to quarrel and take revenge for a trifle. When he gets angry, he becomes bitter, and because of this bitterness he gets angry again, and adding defeat to defeat, and does not feel what he is doing. When he is full, he repents, and a little later, he eats again; he glorifies silence, but praises it with talkativeness; he learns about meekness, and in the very learning of this he often gets angry, and then gets angry again at his bitterness; he sobers up, sighs, nods his head, and again gives in to passion. He scolds people for laughing, and speaks of crying with a smile; he complains to people about his ambition, and by this very reproach he wants to gain fame; he looks passionately at a woman's face, and talks about prudence; He praises the lonely while living in the world, and does not notice that he thereby disgraces himself; he praises the merciful, and insults the beggars. And everything he does, he does to his own condemnation, and he does not want, not to say cannot, to come to his senses.
I have seen many such people weeping, hearing of death and the Last Judgment. But before their tears had dried, they ran quickly to the table. I was amazed how this mistress, (shameful passion) hardened by long insensibility, could overcome even weeping.
According to my weak powers, I have laid bare the wiles and scars of this stony and fierce, wild and mad passion. For I do not intend to talk much about it. Whoever has the ability in the Lord to apply the appropriate medicine to the wound based on his own experience, let him not hesitate to do so. I am not ashamed to admit my powerlessness in this regard, since I myself am strongly seized by this passion. With my own powers, I could not even understand its tricks and cunning, if, not reaching her, I did not hold her back by force and, throwing her into torment, did not force her to confess all that we have said above, scourging her with the rod of the fear of the Lord and unceasing prayer. Therefore this tyrant and evildoer said: "The people who have made a treaty with me look at the dead and laugh. In prayer they are completely petrified, cold, gloomy. They stand before the holy table without feeling, and partake of the Most Holy Gift as if they were eating ordinary bread. I mock men who repent with contrition. From the father who begot me, I learned to kill all the good that is born of courage and longing for God. I am the mother of laughter, I am the nourisher of sleep, I am the friend of satiety, I am associated with false piety, and I feel no pain when I am rebuked.
And I, poor, terrified by the words of this fiery passion, wishing to know something more about its origin, asked for the name of its parent. And she said: "My birth is not just one. My conception is somehow mixed and unclear. Satiety gives me strength, time allows me to sprout, a bad habit strengthens me. Whoever has this habit will never be free from me. Be persistent in thinking about the Eternal Judgment, in a long vigil: perhaps then I will leave you alone for a while. Pay attention to the cause of my origin in you, and fight against it, because my cause is not the same in all people. Pray often by the graves, painting their image indelibly in your heart. For if you do not paint it with the pen of fasting, you will never defeat me."
ABOUT SLEEP, PRAYER AND CONGREGATION WORSHIP
Sleep is a certain characteristic of nature, an image of death, a restlessness of the senses. Sleep is a unique phenomenon, but it has many causes, as is the case with lust. These are: nature, food, demons, and perhaps excessive and prolonged fasting, because the body exhausted by fasting wants to be comforted by sleep.
Drunkenness is a habit. So is sleeping too much. That is why we need to fight against this bad habit, especially at the beginning of the feat of obedience. A long-standing habit is difficult to cure.
Let us pay attention, and we will see that invisible enemies gather when the brothers begin to gather at the sign of the spiritual trumpet [1]. For this reason, some demons approach the bed as soon as we get up, urging us to lie down again, saying: "Wait until the opening songs are finished, and then you will go to church." Other demons plunge those who are at prayer into sleep, or encourage them to talk in church, or distract the mind with shameful thoughts, or lean us against the wall, as if we are faint, or sometimes attack us with frequent yawning. Some demons often cause laughter during prayer, in order to anger God with us through this. Others force us to hurry out of laziness, and others encourage us to sing more slowly, out of pleasure, while sometimes they squat at our mouths and lock them so that we can hardly open them.
But he who feels in the depths of his soul that he stands before God will be like an immovable pillar in prayer, and none of the things we have just mentioned will expose him to ridicule. A true follower, when he stands to pray, often becomes all radiant and joyful. Sincere service has prepared and equipped the ascetic for this.
Everyone can pray in church with others. But many people find it more convenient to pray with just one brother of a kindred spirit. Very few can pray completely alone. By singing with others, you will not be able to pray spiritually, without any thought of earthly things.
Let your mind be occupied during the service with thinking about the words you have heard, or with a specific prayer in anticipation of the next verse. During prayer, you should not do anything else, whether it is one of the main or one of the secondary tasks. This is the clear instruction of the angel who came to the great Antony [2].
The quality of gold is tested in fire, and the zeal and love of a monk for God is known by how he stands in prayer.
Whoever has acquired the praiseworthy virtue of prayer draws closer to God and moves further away from demons.
1. Spiritual trumpet: probably the trumpet with which, instead of the later bell or clapper, the brothers were called to worship.
2. The Angel's Instruction to the Great Anthony: Anthony the Great (250-356), born in Egypt around Thebaid, to Coptic Christian parents. He had no schooling. Fulfilling the Gospel commandment (Mt 19:21), he distributed all his inheritance and devoted himself to the most severe asceticism. In doing so, he experienced countless demonic temptations. He lived in the Egyptian desert around the Nile River. Crowds of people came to him for advice and spiritual strengthening. Moved by love and zeal, he went to Alexandria during the persecution of Maximinus, 311, but it was not granted to him to suffer martyrdom for Christ, and he returned to the desert. From there he interceded for Saint Athanasius the Great, the father of Orthodoxy, and even wrote to Emperor Constantine. In order to suppress the false propaganda of the Arians regarding their dogmatic views, he went to Alexandria again (354). After returning to the desert, he soon died (356). He also left behind writings, mainly teachings, letters and instructions to monks. He is considered the coryphaeus of anchorite (hermit) monasticism. His biography was written by Saint Athanasius the Great (cf. Biography of January 17).
On one occasion, an angel appeared to Anthony the Great and clearly showed him that a monk should never engage in any work during prayer. For the godly father did not see the angel praying and busy himself with manual labor at the same time, but rather saw that the angel was now sitting and busy himself with manual labor, and now leaving his manual labor and standing up to pray. This angel was sent by God to Saint Anthony to teach him how he too should act and how he should live in order to be saved. Therefore, the angel said to him: "Do this, and you will be saved"! (Ilia Kritsky, according to the Russian translation of 1891, cf. č, p. 20).
ON PHYSICAL VIGILANCE AND HOW IT SHOULD BE PRACTICED
People appear before earthly rulers either unarmed and without uniform, or with a scepter, a shield, or a sword. There is a great and incomparable difference between the former and the latter: the former are mostly relatives and friends of the emperors.
That's how it is with earthly rulers.
Let us also look at how we appear before God and the King of Heaven in evening, day, and night services and prayers.
Some at the evening vigil raise their hands in prayer, as spiritual people free from all earthly care. Others then come before God with singing. Some put more effort into reading. And others, out of weakness, heroically fight sleep with manual labor. Some, finally, constantly thinking about death, want to gain favor.
Of all these ascetics, only the vigils of the first and last are truly pious. Others do what is generally prescribed for monks. The rest follow the worst path, although God accepts and values gifts according to the disposition and ability of the giver.
A watchful eye purifies the mind, but too long a sleep dulls the soul. A watchful monk is an enemy of fornication, and a sleepy one is a companion of that demon. Vigilance is the weakening of lust, deliverance from impure dreams, eyes full of tears, a tender heart, a guardian of thoughts, a melting pot of food, a place of taming evil spirits, a torturer of the tongue, a banishment of filthy fantasies. A watchful monk is a hunter of thoughts, because in the silence of the night he can easily notice and catch them. When the trumpet for prayer sounds, the God-loving monk says: "0 Wonderful! Thank God!", and the lazy one wails: "Ugh! Alas!"
The setting of the table reveals the devotees of the stomach, and the feat of prayer reveals the lovers of God. The first jumps for joy when he sees the table, and the second becomes sad.
The cause of forgetfulness is long sleep, and wakefulness maintains memory.
The wealth of the farmer is gathered on the threshing floor and poured from the tub, and the wealth of knowledge of God is gathered by the monks at evening and night services and feats of the mind.
Long sleep is a bad companion: it takes away half of a lazy person's life, if not more.
A bad monk is awake when there is conversation, and when it is time for prayer, his eyes close by themselves.
A lazy monk is good at talking a lot, but when it's his turn to read, he can't open an eye from sleep.
When the last trumpet sounds, the dead are raised, and when the wisdom begins, the sleepy ones awaken.
The tyrant of sleep is a bad friend: when we are full, he departs from us, and when we are hungry and thirsty from fasting, he attacks us mightily, and during prayer he incites us to engage in manual labor. He is otherwise unable to destroy the prayer of those who are awake.
This demon is the first to sneak up on beginners in combat, to make them lazy at the very beginning of their exploits, or to prepare them for the arrival of the demon of fornication.
Until we are free from that, we should not avoid praying in church. We often do not nap out of shame. The dog is the enemy of the rabbit, and the demon of ambition is the dream.
A salesman calculates his profit when the day is over, and an ascetic when the worship service is over.
Be careful after prayer, and you will see defeated hordes of demons trying to pierce us with indecent fantasies at that very moment. Therefore, sit and watch, and you will see those who are accustomed to snatching the first fruits of the soul.
It happens that we hear the words of the Psalms even in our sleep, due to the habit of constantly thinking in the spirit of the Psalter. But it also happens that these verses are inserted into our imagination by demons, in order to make us proud. I did not want to speak of the third state, but someone forced me: the soul that constantly meditates on the word of the Lord during the day (cf. Ps 1:2) usually does the same in its sleep. The second is a reward for the first, for the purpose of driving away evil spirits and impure reveries.
Nineteenth degree: whoever has reached it has received the light into his heart.
If you practice the feat of virtue in a monastery or in a community, timidity will not attack you much. But if you practice asceticism in deserted places, be careful that this offspring of vanity and daughter of unbelief does not take hold of you.
Cowardice is a childish nature in a soul aged by vanity. Cowardice is the absence of faith in the expectation of sudden misfortune. Fear is a danger thought of even before it occurs. Or, again: fear is a trembling feeling of the heart, which trembles and grieves because of uncertain but possible events.
Fear is the deprivation of firm trust in God. The proud soul is a slave to fear, because it trusts in itself: it is afraid of every forest, of every shadow.
Those who weep and suffer for their sins are not cowards. The cowards are often overcome with fear, which is quite natural. The Lord justly leaves the proud in the lurch, so that the rest of us may learn not to be proud.
All fearful people are vain. But not all brave people are humble in mind, because it happens that neither robbers nor grave robbers are fearful.
Do not hesitate to appear in the dead of night in the very places where you are usually seized by fear. If you give in even a little to this childish and ridiculous passion, you will grow old with it. When you go, arm yourself with prayer. When you arrive, spread out your hands. In the name of Jesus, scourge your adversaries, for there is no stronger weapon in heaven or on earth. And when you are free from this disease, thank the Deliverer with all your heart. If you are grateful to him, he will protect you forever.
You cannot fill your stomach all at once. Likewise, timidity cannot be conquered all at once. As we weep, so does timidity. As we weep, so do we become timid. My hair and skin stand on end, said Eliphaz, explaining the cunning of demons (Job 4:15).
Sometimes the soul gets scared first, and sometimes the body. The one who is scared first, transfers the fear to the other. If the body is afraid, and the soul has not entered into unfounded fear, deliverance from the disease is close.
When we truly free ourselves from fear, dark and desolate places will not encourage demons to attack us, but only the barrenness of our souls. And this can be according to God's plan.
He who has become a servant of the Lord fears only his Master, and he who does not yet fear the Lord often fears even his own shadow.
When the invisible spirit of a demon approaches, the body is afraid, but when an angel approaches, the soul humbly or calmly rejoices. When we recognize the arrival of an angel by this action, let us quickly jump into prayer, because our good guardian comes to pray with us.
Whoever has overcome timidity has certainly surrendered his life and soul to God.
ON MANY VANITIES OR VANITY
Some people are accustomed to writing about vanity in a separate chapter, separate from pride. That is why they say that there are eight basic and main sinful thoughts. However, Gregory the Theologian and others list seven [1]. I also agree with them more, for who can be overcome by pride if he manages to overcome vanity? The difference between these passions is only as great as the difference between a child and an adult, between wheat and bread. Vanity is the beginning, and pride is the end.
Therefore, we will now briefly say something about dishonorable conceit, the beginning and fullness of passion. For he who would philosophize at length about this is like a man who vainly tries to determine the measure of the wind.
In its appearance, ambition is a change of nature, and a perversion of character, a conscious disregard of reproof. In its quality, it is a waster of labor, a destroyer of sweat, a thief of the treasury, a progeny of infidelity, a harbinger of pride, a shipwreck in the harbor, an ant on the threshing floor, which, although small, scatters all labor and fruit. The ant waits for the threshing of wheat, and vanity that it has accumulated wealth. The former rejoices in what it will steal, and what it will squander. The spirit of despair rejoices when it sees evil accumulating, and ambition rejoices when it sees virtue increasing. For the door of the former is many spiritual wounds, and the door of the latter is an abundance of labor.
Watch, and you will see that the terrible ambition adorns itself with robes, perfumes, escorts, aromatics, and other things, right up to the grave.
The sun shines on everyone without distinction, and vanity rejoices in all good deeds. For example, I am vain when I fast; when I break my fast so that people will not know about my abstinence, I am still vain because I consider myself wise. Vanity conquers me when I dress in shiny clothes; but even when I dress in rags, I am vain. I am defeated when I speak, and if I remain silent, it conquers me again. No matter how you throw this trident on the ground, one point remains pointing upwards.
A vain man is a Christian who worships idols. He thinks he worships God, but in reality he wants to please people and not God.
Every man who loves to boast is vain. The fasting of a vain man remains without reward and his prayer without fruit, because he does both for the praise of men.
The ambitious ascetic inflicts a double harm on himself: first, by exhausting the body, and second, by not receiving the reward.
Who would not laugh at the vain ascetic, who is driven by passion during worship, sometimes to laugh, and sometimes to cry in front of everyone?
The Lord often hides from our eyes even those virtues that we have acquired. And the man who praises us, or rather corrupts us, opens our eyes with his praise. But as soon as our eyes are opened, our wealth disappears from us. A flatterer is a servant of demons, a guide to pride, an exterminator of affection, a destroyer of virtues, a seducer. Those who praise you deceive you, says the prophet (Isaiah 3:12).
It is characteristic of noble people to bear insults nobly and joyfully, and of the holy and God-pleasing to receive praise without harm.
I have seen how people who have tears, fell into a rage when they were praised, and thus, as at a fair, they traded one passion for another.
No one knows what is in a man except the spirit of man (cf. 1 Cor 2:11). Therefore, let those who would like to praise us to our faces be ashamed and silenced.
When you hear that a loved one or friend said something bad about you in your absence, show them how much you love them and praise them!
It is a great thing to shake off human praise. It is an even greater thing to shake off demonic praise.
A humble mind is not shown by one who speaks ill of himself (who would not be able to bear himself), but by one who bears an insult from another person in a way that does not diminish his love for him.
I noticed that the demon of vanity instills thoughts in one brother, then reveals them to another, prompting him to tell the first what is on his heart, in order to glorify him as a seer.
It happens that this evil one touches even the limbs of the body, producing trembling in them. Pay no attention to him when he arouses in you the desire to become a bishop, or a prelate, or a teacher. It is difficult to drive a dog away from a stall where meat is sold.
When he sees certain people having reached some small peace, he immediately leads them to cross over from the desert into the world, saying: "Go and save the perishing people."
A living Ethiopian looks different from his statue. The ambition of those who live in a community or monastery is different from that of those who live in the desert.
Vanity prompts frivolous monks to expect the visit of worldly people, and to go out to meet those who come; it teaches them to fall prostrate at their feet, and, full of pride, to clothe themselves in humility; it adjusts its posture and voice, and looks at the hands of visitors in order to receive something from them; it calls them masters and protectors who, after God, give them life.
While they are sitting at the table, she urges them to restrain themselves and to be harsh towards their subordinates; in worship he makes the lazy zealous; those who have no voice, to good singers; sleepy, cheerful; he invests himself in the cannoneer, calling him father and teacher, but only until the guests leave.
Vanity makes respected monks arrogant, and humiliated monks resentful.
Ambition often becomes a cause of shame instead of honor. For it brings great shame upon its enraged disciples.
Vanity before men makes the angry meek. It goes very easily with natural gifts, and with them it often overthrows its repentant servants.
I saw a demon insulting and persecuting his brother. When, on one occasion, the brother became angry, some worldly people came by. And that wretched man turned from anger to ambition, because he could not be a slave to both passions at the same time.
A monk who has become a slave to vanity leads a double life: outwardly monastic, but in soul and thoughts worldly.
If we strive earnestly to please God, we shall certainly taste of the glory of heaven. And he who tastes that glory will despise all earthly glory. For I would be surprised if anyone would despise the second before he has tasted the first.
Stolen by vanity, we often turn around and skilfully steal it ourselves. I saw people who started a spiritual feat out of vanity. And although the beginning was reported to them, the end turns out to be praiseworthy, because the spirit in them has changed.
Whoever boasts of natural gifts, such as intelligence, clarity, a fondness for reading, eloquence, and all the like, which we have acquired without effort, will never receive supernatural goods. For he who is unfaithful in a little is unfaithful and vain in much (cf. Luke 16:10).
In order to attain the ultimate perfection and wealth of gifts, the power of miracles and the power of foresight, some people torment their bodies in vain. Poor people! They do not know that the mother of these goods is not labor, but above all humility. He who seeks gifts for his labor lays a dangerous foundation, and he who considers himself a debtor will receive unexpected and sudden wealth.
Do not listen to this slanderer, who advises you to proclaim your virtues for the benefit of your listeners. What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul (Mt 16:26)? Nothing can teach those who see it as much as humble and sincere behavior and speech. For this will serve as an example to others that one should not be proud of anything. And what could be more beneficial than that?
A seer told me what he once saw: "While I was sitting with the other brothers in the monastery hall, the demon of vanity and the demon of pride came and sat down next to me, one on the right and the other on the left. And the first began to poke me in the ribs with his boastful finger, urging me to say something about certain visions and exploits that I had in the desert. But as soon as I shook him off, saying: Let those who plot evil against me be turned back and put to shame (Ps 39:15), the demon who was sitting on my left said in my ear: "Bravo! You have done well! You have become great, because you have defeated my impudent mother." Then I turned to him and uttered the words of the following verse: Let those who say to me: "Excellent! Excellent" you have done will immediately return in shame!
To my question, how vanity is the mother of pride, he replied:
"Praise elevates and puffs up the soul. And when the soul is lifted up, then pride takes possession of it, which elevates it to heaven and brings it down to hell. There is glory that comes from the Lord: I will glorify those who glorify me (1 Kings 2:30). And there is glory that is the consequence of the devil's cunning: Woe to you, he says, when all men speak well of you (Luke 6:26)! You will clearly recognize the first when you view human glory as something harmful, when you avoid all its cunning and hide your God-pleasing way of life wherever you go. You will recognize the second when you do even the smallest thing to be seen by men (Matthew 6:5). This filthy vanity teaches us to pretend to have a virtue that we do not have, citing the words: So that your light shines before men, that they may see your good works (Matthew 5:16).
The Lord often transforms the ambitious into the unambitious by some disgrace that befalls them. The beginning of non-ambitiousness is silence and the willing acceptance of insults; the middle is the removal of all thoughts that are permeated with ambition; and the end (if that ocean has any end at all) is the effort to do without hesitation in front of people what harms us, without the slightest shame.
Do not hide your shame, under the pretext of not causing scandal. (After all, perhaps this medicine should be used according to the type of shame in question).
When we seek glory, and when it is (unsought) shown to us by other people, or when we undertake some feats out of ambition, let us remember our weeping and immediately think of that fear and trembling with which we stood before God in our solitary prayer. Thus we will undoubtedly drive away shameless vanity, all the more so if we take care to attain true prayer. And if that does not help either, let us immediately remember our death. In case we cannot do that either, then let us at least fear the shame that accompanies vanity: For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled (Lk 14:11), certainly here too, even before the age to come.
When praisers (or rather, detractors) begin to praise us, we should immediately remember our many iniquities, and we will see that we are unworthy of what is said about us or done for us.
Among ambitious people, there are certainly those whose prayers God would otherwise grant. However, God usually prevents their prayers and supplications, so that they do not become even more conceited because their prayers are granted.
More simple-minded people are usually not very susceptible to the effects of this poison. For vanity excludes simplicity and presupposes a hypocritical life.
It often happens that a worm, having reached a certain age, gets wings and flies high. So vanity, when fully developed, gives birth to pride, that beginning and end of all evils.
Whoever is free from this disease is close to salvation, and whoever is not free from it is still far from the glory of the saints.
Degree twenty-one. He who is not caught by vanity will not fall into the reckless arrogance so hateful to God.
1. One of the first church writers to distinguish vanity, i.e. ambition, from pride was Saint John Cassian (Thess. V, 2. 18. MR1., 49, 635AV). He lists eight main passions, among which he places vanity in seventh place and pride in eighth. So do Evagrius Pontius (De octo vitiosis cogitationibus, I-IX, Migne, RG 400, 1272), and among others St. Nile of Sinai (350-430), in his special work De octo spiritubus malitiae, Migne, PG 79, 1146. St. Gregory the Theologian, however, says that there are seven spirits of evil, as well as seven spirits of virtue (Ogat. 39, Migne, RG 36, 345 A) (cf. the Russian translation of Ljestvice from 1891, note č, pp. 21-22, as well as the dissertation of V. Fradinski, Sveti Nil Sinajski, Belgrade, 1938, 28-30).
Pride is the denial of God, the invention of demons, the contempt of men [1], the mother of condemnation, the offspring of praise, a sign of spiritual barrenness, the banishment of the help of God, the forerunner of madness, the culprit of falls, the basis of epilepsy [2], the source of anger, the gate of hypocrisy, the supporter of demons, the guardian of sin, the cause of mercilessness, the ignorance of compassion, the cruel interrogator, the inhuman judge, the opponent of God, the root of blasphemy.
The beginning of pride is where vanity ends; the middle is contempt for one's neighbor, shameless proclamation of one's own exploits, boastfulness in the heart, hatred of rebuke; and the end is rejection of God's help, trust in one's own strength, demonic nature.
Let us all who wish to avoid falling into this pit hear this: this passion is often and gladly nourished by gratitude. It does not at first lead us quite openly to reject God. I have seen people who thanked God with their words, but glorified themselves in their thoughts. This is clearly witnessed by that Pharisee, who said: God, thank you (Luke 18:11)!
Where the fall occurred, pride had previously settled there: the second announces the arrival of the first.
I heard the following from a venerable elder: "Let us suppose that there are twelve shameless passions. And one of them, namely pride, if you consciously love it, is capable of taking the place of all the other eleven passions."
The arrogant monk responds harshly. The humble monk does not respond in any way.
The cypress tree does not bend or drag itself along the ground. So too, a monk with a proud heart cannot gain obedience.
A man with a proud heart wants to rule. It is known that he cannot do otherwise, or rather does not want to, and will ultimately perish. The Lord opposes the proud (James 4:6). Who, then, can have mercy on them? Every proud hearted man is unclean before the Lord (Proverbs 16:5). Who, then, can cleanse such a one?
For a proud man, a lesson is a cause for his downfall, and a demon is the instigator, while spiritual selflessness leads to abandonment by God. In the first two cases, people were often able to be cured by others. However, the latter cannot be cured by others.
He who does not tolerate reproaches shows passion, and he who receives them is freed from the chains with which he was bound.
If someone fell from heaven without any other passion, solely due to pride, it should be examined: is it not possible to ascend to heaven through humility, without any other virtue?
Pride signifies the loss of all spiritual wealth, all that has been achieved with so much sweat. They cried, and there was no savior (certainly because they cried with pride); they cried to the Lord, and he did not answer them (no doubt because they did not cut off the causes of what they prayed against) (Ps 17:42).
An elder, very initiated into the secrets of spiritual life, advised a proud brother. And the latter, blinded, said: "Forgive me, father, I am not proud"! And, the all-wise elder will say to that: "What clearer proof could you give me of your pride, my child, than by saying: "I am not proud"? Such people are very well suited to submission, to a life as harsh and disreputable as possible, and to reading about the supernatural feats of the holy fathers. Perhaps in this there is some small hope that these sick people will be saved.
It is shameful to adorn yourself with another's adornment, and it is the utmost folly to boast of God's gifts. You boast only of those virtues which you would have performed before your birth: those virtues, on the contrary, which you acquired after your birth, God has given you, as He has given you birth itself. Your virtues could only be those which you would have performed before you came to consciousness: God, however, has given you your mind itself. You could attribute to your own efforts only those victories which you would have achieved without your body: the body, however, is not yours but God's creation.
Do not feel secure until you receive the judgment, bearing in mind the one who was bound hand and foot, and who was thrown into outer darkness, even though he was already seated at the wedding table. Do not be proud, earthly creature! Many have been cast down from heaven, although they were holy and incorporeal.
When the demon of pride has firmly established himself in his servants, he reveals certain secrets to them, in a dream or in reality in the form of a bright angel or some martyr, or grants them apparent grace, so that these wretches may be deceived and completely lose their minds.
Even if thousands of people died for Christ, they would not repay their debt. The blood of God is one thing, and the blood of slaves is another, in value, not in essence.
Let us never cease to examine and compare ourselves with the fathers and saints who lived before us. Thus we will find that we have not yet set foot on the path of true asceticism, that we have not fulfilled our vow as we should, and that we are still living in the world.
A true monk is that man who has an uninflated eye of the soul and an unmoved bodily sense. A monk is he who calls and tempts his invisible enemies like beasts, even when they flee from him. A monk is a constant delight and a life-giving sorrow. A monk is a man who practices virtue as others satisfy their passions. A monk is a constant light in the eye of the heart. A monk is an ocean of humility, into which he has plunged and drowned every evil spirit.
Pride leads to forgetting sins, and remembering sins is the mediator of a humble mind.
Pride is the ultimate misery of the soul which, in its obscurity, thinks it is rich. This vile passion not only does not allow us to progress, but also brings us down from the heights we have attained. Pride is a pomegranate, rotten inside, but smooth and beautiful outside.
The arrogant monk does not need a demon: he has become his own demon and enemy.
Darkness is alien to light. So is arrogance alien to all virtue.
Blasphemous words are born in proud hearts, but heavenly visions are born in humble souls.
A thief hates the sun, and the proud despise the meek.
Most arrogant people (how, I don't know) fool themselves to death into believing they are passionless. Only then do they realize the extent of their misery.
Only the Lord can help a man who is caught in pride. Any human means of salvation would be useless to him.
Once I caught this headless deceiver, who had crept into my heart on the shoulders of her mother. Having bound both with the rope of obedience and beaten them with the whip of modesty, I pressed them to tell me how they had entered me. Finally, under the blows, they spoke: "We have neither beginning nor birth, for we ourselves are both the beginning and the parent of all passions. The contrition of the heart that is born in submission makes no small war with us. We do not suffer anyone to rule over us. We fell from heaven precisely because we wanted to rule there too. In short, we are the parent of everything that opposes a humble mind; everything that helps a humble mind is contrary to us. After all, we were strong even in heaven: where, then, can you flee from us? We often go after suffering an insult, after obedience and not being angry, after forgetting evil and devoted service. Our offspring consists of: falls of spiritual people, anger, gossip, self-will, disobedience. There is only one thing we are unable to attack. We will tell you what it is, because your blows hurt us terribly: if you honestly blame yourself before the Lord, you will consider us a cobweb."
As you see, the horse on which pride rides is vanity. Godly humility and self-condemnation, however, will laugh at the horse and its rider, singing with delight the song of victory: Let us sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously: the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea (Ex 15:1), and into the abyss of humility.
Twenty-second degree: the one who ascended, if he was able to ascend at all, revealed immense strength.
1. Contempt for people: a characteristic of arrogance is contempt for people and anger at people (Shol. 2, sol. 972 V).
2. The basis of epilepsy: one philosopher said that arrogance is epilepsy (Shol. 4, all, sol. 972 S).
ABOUT INDESCRIBABLE BLASPHEMOUS THOUGHTS
We have heard above that from an evil root and an evil mother comes an even worse fruit: from pagan pride is born an indescribable blasphemy. Therefore, it is necessary to bring it to light, since it is not a small thing. It is an enemy and adversary, which is much more dangerous than all the others. What is even worse, we are not able to tell our spiritual doctor without difficulty about the thought of blasphemy, to confess and denounce it. That is why many often fell into despair and lost hope. This wicked sin, like a worm in a tree, ruined all their hope.
This all-defiled demon often loves to blaspheme the Lord and the Holy Gifts that are offered, both at the Eucharist itself and at the very moment of the consecration of the Mysteries. This most clearly shows us that these lawless, incomprehensible and unspeakable words are not actually spoken in us by our soul, but by the God-hating demon, who was cast out of heaven because he tried to blaspheme the Lord there too. For if these indecent and unseemly words were really mine, how then, having received the Gift, do I bow down? How could I curse and bless at the same time?
Many people have been driven mad by this deceiver and destroyer of souls. No other thought is as difficult to confess as this one. That is why it often accompanies many into old age. And nothing gives demons and blasphemous thoughts more strength in their attacks on us than the fact that we nurture and hide them in our hearts, unconfessed.
No one should consider themselves guilty of blasphemous thoughts. The Lord is the knower of hearts. He understands that such words are not ours, but those of our enemies.
Drunkenness is a cause of stumbling, and pride is a cause of unworthy thoughts. And although the one who has stumbled is not guilty of stumbling, he will certainly be punished for drunkenness.
When we stand in prayer, these impure and unspeakable thoughts arise in us. When the prayer is over, they immediately depart. They reluctantly engage in battle with those who do not even pay attention to them.
This impious spirit not only blasphemes against God and all that is of God, but also utters indecent and most shameful words in us, so that we abandon prayer or fall into despair. For this evil and cruel tyrant draws many people away from prayer, separates many from the Holy Mysteries, wears out the bodies of some with sorrow, and tortures others with fasting, not giving them even a moment of rest. He does this not only with the laity, but also with people who lead a religious life, constantly telling them that they have no salvation at all and that they are more miserable than all infidels and polytheists.
The man who wants to be freed from the spirit of blasphemy that disturbs him, should know well that it is not his soul that is to blame for blasphemous thoughts, but the unclean demon himself, who said to the Lord: All these things I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me (Mt 4:9). Therefore, we too, despising him and not attaching any importance to the thoughts that he instills in us, say: Get away from me, Satan! I will worship the Lord my God and serve Him only (Mt 4:10). And your torment and your words will return on your own head, and your blasphemy will fall on your own crown in this age and in the age to come (cf. Ps 7:17).
Whoever would try to defeat the demon of blasphemy in any other way is like a man who tries to catch lightning with his hands. For how can he catch, how can he argue and fight with one who suddenly, like a wind, rushes into the heart, utters a word in a vision and immediately disappears? All other opponents stand, accept the fight, hesitate and give time to the one who wants to attack them. But not this one! On the contrary, as soon as he appears, he retreats; as soon as he speaks, he leaves.
That demon often has a habit of hanging around the most simple-minded and innocent-minded. Because they are disturbed and confused by it much more than other people. It can be said that all this happens in them, not because of arrogance, but because of the envy of demons.
Let us stop judging and condemning our neighbor so that we will not be afraid of blasphemous thoughts. The first is the cause and root of the second.
Just as a man, locked in a house, hears the words of those passing by outside, although he himself does not speak to them, so the soul, dwelling within itself and listening to the blasphemies of demons, feels disturbed by what the one passing through it says.
Whoever despises this demon is also freed from passion, and whoever thinks he is fighting him in some other way will finally succumb to him. Because whoever wants to conquer spirits with words is like a man who wants to lock up the winds.
A zealous monk, tormented by this demon, had been exhausting his body with fasting and vigils for about twenty years. But, not feeling any benefit, he wrote down his passion on paper, went to a holy man and gave it to him to read, throwing himself on the ground with his face so that he could not even look at the saint. And when the old man read what was written on the paper, he smiled, lifted up his brother and said: "Put your hand, child, on my neck"! When the brother did this, the elder said to him: "Let this sin be on my neck, brother, no matter how many years it has been in you and how long it will be. Only do not attach any importance to it"! This monk later claimed that he had not even left the old man's cell, and the passion had already disappeared. This was told to me, with gratitude to Christ, by the monk who was in temptation.
Whoever has conquered this passion has banished arrogance.
ON MEME, SIMPLICITY OR SIMPLICITY AND HARMLESSNESS, WHICH ARE NOT NATURAL BUT ACQUIRED, AND ON EVIL
The rising of the sun is preceded by the light of the dawn. So also meekness is the forerunner of a humble mind. Let us hear, therefore, the Light itself, in which it speaks of these virtues in turn: Learn of me , he says, for I am meek and humble of heart (Mt 11:29). Accordingly, in order to be able to look clearly at the rising sun, it is natural that we must first be illuminated by a certain weaker light. It is impossible, it is impossible to see the sun, before the light of the dawn appears, as the very nature of the virtues mentioned shows.
Meekness is an unchanging state of mind, equal in humiliation and in honor. Meekness consists in praying sincerely for our neighbor without emotion, even when he offends us. Meekness is a rock that rises above the sea of wrath. All the waves that come upon it break against it: it alone remains unshakable. Meekness is the support of suffering, the door, or rather – the mother of love, the foundation of judgment: The Lord will teach the meek his ways (Ps 24:9). It is the mediator of forgiveness, boldness in prayer, the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit. To whom shall I look, if not to the meek and lowly (Is 66:2)?
Meekness is the helper of obedience, the guide of the religious brotherhood, the bridle for the angry, the cutting off of anger, the giver of joy, the imitation of Christ, the attribute of angels, the fetter for demons, and the shield from bitterness. In the hearts of the meek the Lord dwells, while the restless soul is the seat of the devil. The meek … shall inherit the earth (Mt 5:5). Moreover, they shall rule the earth. But men who are always angry shall be cut off from their land.
A meek soul is the throne of simplicity, and an angry mind is the creator of wickedness.
A meek soul understands the words of wisdom: The Lord will lead the meek to judgment (Ps 24:9), or rather to discernment.
A true soul is a friend of humility, and a cunning one is a slave to pride.
The souls of meek people will be filled with knowledge, but the angry mind is a householder of darkness and ignorance.
Once upon a time, an angry man and a jealous woman met: in their conversation it was impossible to find a single true word. If you open your heart to the first, you will find rage; if you examine the soul of the second, you will see malice.
Simplicity is a uniform state of the soul, in which it cannot be moved by any malice.
Innocence is a cheerful disposition of the soul, free from any cunning thought.
The first characteristic of childhood is simple simplicity. While Adam had it, he did not see either the nakedness of his soul or the ugliness of his body.
The simplicity that some have by nature is beautiful and blessed, but not like that which is created with great effort by pretending to be cunning. The first protects us from great cunning and many passions, while the second becomes the cause of the most sublime humility and meekness. Therefore the reward for the first is not great, while for the second it is glorious [1].
All of us who would like to draw the Lord to ourselves, let us approach Him naturally, as disciples approach the Master, simply and uncontrivedly, simply and sincerely. Being simple and uncomplicated, He wants the souls who approach Him to be simple and uncorrupted as well.
Nowhere can one find simplicity without humility or meekness. A cunning man is a false prophet, who imagines that he can tell the thoughts by words, and by outward actions what is in the heart.
I have known righteous people who learned cunning from the cunning, and I was astonished how they could so quickly lose their natural quality and superiority.
Just as it is easy for honest people to become cunning, it is difficult for cunning people to become honest. True alienation, obedience, and silence have often demonstrated great power, and beyond expectations, have healed even the incurable.
If knowledge puffs up many (1 Cor 8:1), then, on the contrary, ignorance and ignorance to a certain extent humiliate. There are also cases, although rare, that some are puffed up out of ignorance.
The thrice-blessed Paul the Simple is an obvious example, rule, and model of blessed simplicity: no one anywhere has seen, heard, or ever seen such progress in such a short time (2).
The simple-minded monk, obedient as a thing endowed with consciousness, casts his burden entirely upon the shoulders of his spiritual father. An animal does not contradict him who binds it: nor does a true soul contradict its teacher. It follows him who leads it where he wills, and does not know how to contradict even when led to the slaughter.
A man without cunning is a pure soul, as he was created. His soul deals honestly with everyone.
Sincerity is an unartificial thought, sincere behavior and natural, unprepared speech.
God is called both love and justice. Therefore the wise Solomon in the Song of Songs says to the pure heart: Justice loves you (Song of Songs 1:3). And his father also says: The Lord is gracious and righteous (Ps 24:8). But of those who bear the same name as Him, the prophet says that they are saved, because, he says: He who saves the righteous in heart (Ps 7:11); and again: His face they see and visit the righteousness of the souls of men (Ps 10:7).
Cunning is something opposite to sincerity. It is a deluded thought, self-deception about the plan of God, false swearing, ambiguous expression, concealment of real feelings, an abyss of deceit, a calculated lie, pride that has become an integral part of nature, an opponent of calmness, a feigned repentance, a flight from tears, an enemy of confession, stubborn stubbornness, the culprit of falls, an obstacle to rising, a restrained laughter when enduring insults, unreasonable sadness, a restrained piety, a demonic life. A cunning man is the devil's namesake and interlocutor. Therefore, the Lord taught us to call the devil cunning, when we say: Deliver us from the wicked one (Mt 6:13).
Evil is a demonic science (or rather, monstrosity) (3). It has lost the truth, although it tries to hide it from many.
Hypocrisy is a contradictory state of body and soul, intertwined with all sorts of thoughts.
Let us flee from the cliff of hypocrisy and the pit of corruption, listening to the one who says that the wicked will be destroyed and will wither like the flowers of the field (Ps 36:9, 2). Such people are ideal pasture for demons.
It is hard for the rich to enter the Kingdom (Mt 19:23). It will be hard for the foolish wise to enter simplicity.
The Fall often corrected the cunning, granting them salvation and innocence even against their will.
Do everything to play with your own intelligence [4]. By doing so, you will find salvation and righteousness in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen!
Whoever has attained this stage, let him be at peace: having become an heir of the Master Christ, he has found salvation.
1. The first are promised the earth, and the others heaven (Mt 5:5; 3). See Salesian edition, II, 87, note 9).
2. The Blessed Paul the Simple: the life of the God-pleasing Paul is briefly described in Palladius's Lausaicus (Nist. Laus. 28, Migne, RG, 34, 1076-1084, or in the translation of the hieromonk Dr. Justin, Bitolj, 1933, I, 65-71). According to this information, Paul was a peasant, a farmer, "excessively innocent and simple". He was married to a very beautiful but corrupt woman. Once, when he found his wife in adultery, he left home and became a monk. He was then about 60 years old. After a short wandering from monastery to monastery, he came to Saint Anthony the Great and became his disciple. He easily performed all, even the cruelest, feats that his teacher performed. Thanks to his extreme humility and obedience, Paul in a short time received from God the power to cast out demons. "Simple and unlearned, but completely perfect in soul," he reaches the highest degree of virtue, so much so that he cast out even the most terrible, chief demons from the souls of men. He spent the last years of his earthly life in the desert completely alone.
3. Science (better to say freakishness): a play on words, not so rare in the Rankings.
4. In order to play with his wits: he means renouncing all arbitrariness. One should become obedient, and not do anything at one's own discretion, without advice or confirmation from the spiritual director (cf. Shol. 12, sol. 988
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