A talk given in the New-Tikhvin women's Monastery,
Ekaterinburg, Russia, October, 2011, during the visit of
the Cincture of the Mother of God to Russia.
Your
Eminence, eminent bishops, honorable fathers, dear
Mother Abbess, brothers and sisters! It is a great joy
for me to be in your monastery once again. As you know,
this time we have arrived with the holy Cincture of the
Mother of God. This is a very special holy shrine
— very precious from the spiritual point of view.
By God's providence we have brought the relic to this
city in order to sanctify the city, and of course, for
the sake of the monastics who live here. We know how
pleasing the monastic life, and in general the
existence of monasteries is to the Mother of God. We
know how many times in the history of the Church the
Mother of God appeared to chaste and pure souls and
said, "There is my icon, take it and build a
monastery." The Holy Mountain is the only existing
monastic republic, dedicated entirely to her. The Most
Pure Virgin is the Protectress of Mt. Athos. She
herself told St. Peter the Athonite to go and live on
the Holy Mountain, and said that he and his
co-strugglers will be under her direct Protection.
"I myself will be your Protectress, Healer, and
Nourisher," she said. Appearing to St. Athansius
the Athonite, she said the same thing she had said to
St. Peter, adding, "I will be your Economissa
(steward) and I will take care of all of you; but I
want only one thing from you—that you keep your
monastic vows." And to this day we, the Athonites,
delight in her patronage and special intercession.
Therefore, my dear ones, it is a great blessing that we
have come to monasticism. Our elder Joseph of Vatopedi of
blessing repose very often said to us, "There is no
greater blessing for a person than when God calls him to
the monastic life. May the monk never, not even for a
second, ever forget that God Himself called him."
When we remember how we left the world, what went along
with us then, we see that God's grace was upon us, that it
accomplished our renunciation of the world, and led us to
the monastery. Here we must fulfill three virtues in their
entirety: non-acquisitiveness, obedience, and chastity.
These virtues lead us in the spiritual life, root us in
it, and help us attain the fullness of maturity in Christ.
Monasticism is the path of perfection, and therefore we
monastics are called to acquire the fullness of grace. Not
long ago, one monk came to me and said, "You know, I
have no time to read." I said to him, "My child,
the monastery is not a place of reading. You have come to
the monastery not to read, and not even to pray. You have
come to deny yourself and submit yourself to spiritual
guidance. If you give yourself over in obedience to the
abbot and not try to get as comfortable as possible in
this life, then you will fulfill Christ's commandment
exactly. He never said anything accidently, but always
unmistakenly, and He said to us monks: Whoever will come
after me, let him take up his cross and follow Me."
Whoever in the monastery fulfills his own desires and
dreams is not denying himself. A monk should not have any
dreams at all—no ambitions or plans. He comes as a
man condemned to death, lifts his arms and says to the
abbot, "Do with me as you will." By this he
fulfills another of Christ's words: "He who wants to
save his own soul will lose it." And if a monk
understands the meaning of these words and places them at
the foundation of his life, he will have a correct
understanding of podvig, and all his problems will
be solved. He becomes an organ of God's Providence and
fully imitates our Lord Jesus Christ, Who, although
sinless, came and stood on the level of us penitents, as
if He also needed repentance. Christ did not just give
commandments from the heavens for us to observe; He
Himself came to us and demonstrated them to us in
practice. And what did He say to us, absolutely clearly?
"I have come not to do my own will, but the will of
my Father Who sent Me." Our blessed elder Joseph told
us in his talks, "What do you think, brothers: if
Christ were to fulfill His own will—would that have
been sinful? Nevertheless, He did not do that, so that He
could be One Who first does, and then teaches." Man's
will and desire is a brass wall. Not a clay, not a stone,
not a cement, but a brass wall separating him from God.
Blessed is the monk who obeys. Obedience is not a
discipline; it is something different. Obedience is when
you give over your heart. Monastic life is fully
Christ-centered. Therefore the elder does not use his
spiritual children's obedience for his own purposes. His
task is to convince the monk to submit his will to the
will of God.
If you have any questions, ask them and I will answer them
if I can.
—How can one notice the appearance of a sinful
thought, and cut off in time a passionate thought that
infect us while it is still at the state of
suggestion?
—Do not be over-preoccupied with thoughts—they
need to be treated with disdain. One monk in our monastery
once came to me and said, "I need to confess." I
saw that he was carrying a notebook. I asked him,
"What is that you have?" "It is my
confession," he answered. "Well, give it to
me," I said. "I will read your notebook."
Just imagine—thirty pages of thoughts! I said to
him, "Do you think you need to confess every thought
that comes into your head? You'll end up in a psychiatric
hospital that way!" He had written down even the
thoughts that came to him during services. I told this
brother, "Thoughts that come in do not mean
anything." Even if the mind inclines toward them for
a moment, this does not mean anything, absolutely nothing!
Forget them! You need to confess only those thoughts that
do not go away for a long time, that stay in the mind for
days or weeks; but in general thoughts are soap bubbles.
I will tell you about yet another incident from life. One
young man, a church-going man, fell into gluttony—he
wanted to eat a shish kebob on a Wednesday, and went to
buy it. He came to the store and the salesman said,
"Forgive me but I just sold the last one." This
young man then came to me and said, "This is what
happened, and I would have eaten a shish kebob!" I
said to him, "But you did not eat it? That is all!
You gave in to a thought, but did not sin in deed."
How is it with us? First there is the thought, and then it
becomes a word, and then a deed. But a sin is considered
committed when it becomes a deed. Therefore, be attentive
and do not be preoccupied much with thoughts; disdain
them. "For the thoughts of mortal
men are miserable" (Wis. 9:14), literally,
"Thoughts are cowardly"
—Fr. Ephraim, to what do you think monastics in
Russia should be paying particular attention, so that our
monasteries would be stronger and flourish?
—You need to pay attention to obedience. A monk
should obey and not have passionate attachments; this
especially relates to women monastics. I have one women's
monastery, and when I go there, it all begins:
"Geronda, pray for my aunt, my nephew, my nephew's
neighbor. Geronda, pray for my brother, for my sister's
friend." You shouldn't be concerned with your aunt's,
your nephews' or their neighbors' needs. Pay attention to
this, because the virtue of exile is particularly hard for
women; they tend to be very attached to their relatives.
They start praying fervently for them, but under the guise
of prayer for their relatives, their hearts cleave to them
again. Obedience, however, tells us to give ourselves
wholly to Christ. Whoever does not renounce his property,
says the Lord, cannot be my disciple. These are the
words of Christ, Who was merciful, Who was a teacher of
mercy! But do you remember what the man said after the
Savior called him to follow Him? "Allow me to go and
bury my father." He was not lying, after all; he
would have done just that. But Christ said, "No let
the dead bury their dead. You follow Me." Why do you
think He said that? Because man's mind is called to
illumination, and compared to this illumination, this
sanctity, everything is insignificant, nothing. Or, for
example, many people write letters to their relatives who
are monks. The brothers ask me, "Geronda, should I
answer the letter?" "No," I say, "you
don't need to answer it. Pray for them, and that will be
your greatest offering."
—How can a complicated and responsible monastic
job having to do with monastery property management be
combined with the commandment not to care for
tomorrow?
—Whoever cares for these things is doing them in
obedience—he has a "carefree care". St.
Silhouan the Athonite was the steward, not even of the
monks, but of the lay workers. At the same time he was a
great man of silence, a true hesychast. Pay attention to
this! Do you remember how he himself admitted in his
recollections: "The abbot told me to be the steward
of the workers, and I inwardly resisted. 'Oh, father, what
are you burdening me with…'" He did not accept
it right away only inwardly, and did not show swift
obedience, although he went and did this job. But the
level of his spiritual progress did not allow him the
right to resist even inwardly. He himself admitted that
for this resistance against the abbot he had headaches his
whole life as a penance. So, be very careful. Look at how
Christ mysteriously, in an amazing way equated the will of
a lawful organ—that is, the abbot—with His own
will. What does He say? "Whoever hears you hears Me,
and whoever rejects you rejects Me." Therefore,
another great saint of our times, Elder Porphyrius of
Kavsokalyvia, emphasized the significance of joyful
obedience.
—How can repentance be combined with spiritual
joy, compunction and inner peace? Both are needed, but
apparently contradict each other.
—To the extent that a person repents and has that
inner lamentation commanded by Christ, he will feel
simultaneously that this lamentation is joy-producing. Do
not contemplate spiritual things by using the feelings or
sentimentality. One may weep because he has a
psychological problem, another weeps from sentimentality,
while a third weeps for spiritual reasons. Unfortunately,
we have not worthily responded to God's call—I am
speaking of myself—and we do not measure up to God's
grace and long-suffering for us. But we have known holy
elders, our contemporaries, who had compassion for people
and prayed for everyone with great pain of heart. They
were always peaceful, joyful, and easy to be around. This
is the wonder of a spiritual person.
—Do you think that the monastic virtues of the
ancient fathers are possible in modern monasticism?
—Both monasticism and man have always been the same
throughout all times. Of course, people of the
twenty-first century unfortunately do not have the same
self-mastery or strength as the ancients had. But if a
person wants this, he can labor in asceticism according to
his strength and experience the same grace as did the
ancient fathers.
—How can we avoid depression when repenting?
Where is the boundary between repentance and
depression?
—In order to help us discern this, we have spiritual
guides. One day a nun came to elder Porphyrius, who was
clairvoyant. She had read much about remembrance of death
and had begun to feel depressed from it, because it was
beyond her strength. As soon as the elder saw this nun he
could immediately see what the problem was. Before she
even said anything, he said to her, "You do not have
a blessing to exercise the remembrance of death. Think
only about Christ's love." Thus, the podvig of
repentance should be directed by a spiritual guide who
looks at each person's spiritual state. When my elder,
Joseph of Vatopedi, was young, he put much effort into
self-criticism and began to get depressed because of it.
Then our "grandfather", Joseph the Hesychast,
said to him, "Son, work with this—but only a
little, not too heavily." Of course, after maturing
spiritually he had no problem with this practice.
It is because the spiritual state of the monk must be
observed that the holy fathers prescribed that the
spiritual father, the abbot, be always in the monastery.
Of course, he can be absent for a few days, but in general
he is continually with the brothers. Our laypeople, for
example, see their spiritual father once or twice a month,
the more reverent ones once a month; continual association
with a spiritual father is not for them. But the holy
fathers did institute this for monks because monks are as
if walking a tightrope, and they need continual help.
—How can we discern salvific memory of death from
ordinary fear of death, which even non-religious people
feel?
—One person told me that he used to be very afraid
of death. After he began coming to Mt. Athos, this fear
disappeared completely. God gave him such a gift.
Psychological fear is not a good fear; it rejects [death],
but remembrance of death in Christ is victory over death.
Once a group of pilgrims came to our monastery, and after
Compline I talked with them a little. I do not know why,
but I began to talk with them about remembrance of death.
There was one psychologist among them. He said to me
later, "Father, we came to you on the Holy Mountain,
and you began talking to us about such sad things."
At first I did not understand what had happened. He then
said, "Couldn't you have found something else to talk
about? Why talk about death?" He was continually
tapping his wooden armchair—a superstitious action
against the evil eye. However, remembrance of death in
Christ does not cause depression in people—it fills
them with joy. After all, in Christ we conquer death, and
pass over from death into life! We monks are the heralds
of eternal life. Why? Because we already have a
presentiment of the Kingdom of God in our hearts. Do you
remember what Abba Isaiah said? "Remember the Kingdom
of Heaven, and it will draw you in little-by-little."
That is why a monk is always joyful. He already tastes the
Kingdom of God with his spiritual senses. And the Lord
Himself says that this Kingdom is within us.
—How can we fulfill the Apostle's command:
"Be joyful at all times" and acquire true
spiritual joy?
—When a monk gradually obtains constant communion
with God, the fruits of this communion will be joy. True
joy is not a psychological but a spiritual state. St.
Nectarios, a great saint of our times, put it very well in
a letter he wrote: He who seeks sources of joy within
himself has gone astray, and is in a state of delusion.
For example, one person we love, comes from abroad to our
monastery. Naturally, we rejoice that he is with us. But
as much as we rejoice in his presence, we equally grieve
when he leaves. We can take this thought further. We love
a certain person, but God takes him from us and he leaves
this life, and the love we had for him turns into equal
pain after his death. Therefore, a person should not
absolutize the joys that are outside of him. The source of
joy is in his heart; it is the constant presence of grace.
Therefore a man of God is always peaceful and calm at both
joyful and sad events.
—How can we unite the commandment of love for
neighbor with the obligation to be concentrated and
silent?
—Here also discernment is needed, because we often
fall into extremes. For example, one of our brothers in
the monastery did not have a very good voice. I said to
him, "You know, son, don't sing in the catholicon
(the main church), but sing in our smaller churches, with
three or four other fathers". So he came one day to
sing; there were four of them, but then the cook came and
then there were five. The brother stopped singing and said
to the cook, "Either you or me." The cook was
surprised. "Why?" he said. The brother answered,
"The Elder blessed me to sing only when there were up
to four brothers in the choir." What am I trying to
say? We must have a correct understanding of our spiritual
father's commandments. We have to know when to talk and
when to be silent. After all, silence can come from
egoism, or neurasthenia; but there is also spiritual
silence. I once asked my monks not to talk during
services. So, during a service, one brother came up to
another brother and asked him about something to do with
the kitchen, and instead of answering him, the other
showed him by a gesture that it is forbidden to talk (he
placed his finger over his lips). This is not obedience.
He was obligated to answer because this was something
necessary. But when a monk loves silence, God gives him
the opportunity and the time to be silent.
Archimandrite Ephraim of Vatopedi
Translation by OrthoChristian.com
Translation by OrthoChristian.com
29 / 11 / 2011
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