Ομιλία Γέροντος Νεκταρίου Μουλατσιώτη με θέμα:
"ΟΙ ΔΥΟ ΑΓΑΠΕΣ"
Η ομιλία πραγματοποιήθηκε στον Ιερό Ναό Αγίας Μαρίνης Ηλιουπόλεως Αθηνών την Κυριακή 3 Φεβρουαρίου 2013.
Saturday, 9 February 2013
"Elder Paisios" (Documentary) - Russian Film - English Subtitles
Elder Paisios, is a Russian Film, which had its first night of play on the 5th of November 2012. We would like to thank Fr Kyprianos Yiasienko for the permission, Thalia and Panayiotis Konnaris for the provision of the Subtitles.
The Heart is Deep: St. Gregory Palamas and the Essence of Hesychasm
Part I of II
The following is translated from a talk
given by His Grace, Atanasije (Jevtic), Retired Bishop of Zahumlje and
Herzegovina (Serbian Orthodox Church), at the Sretensky Seminary in
Moscow on November 1, 2001.
Today we will be speaking about St. Gregory Palamas and the essence
of hesychasm. The Council of Constantinople in 1351, which took place
650 years ago, clearly and definitively affirmed the experience and
theology of hesychasm. The first such council had met ten years earlier,
in 1341, at which Palamas and his Athonite monks presented the
Hagioritic Tome, in which they set forth the essence of their experience
and of their theological confession against Barlaam. Later, in 1347,
another Council met, this time against Akindynos; by then Barlaam had
already left and become a cardinal, a bishop of the Pope, after which he
took up the fight against hesychast theology.
So, concerning the theological experience and justification of hesychasm:
Hesychasm, of course, is not a new phenomenon. You will find it in
the book of Archbishop Basil (Krivoshein) as well as in that of the
Russian Byzantologist, George Ostrogorsky, who lived with us [in Serbia]
and had a brilliant career, giving significant weight to Serbian
Byzantology. He himself was Russian, but had many students, including
Greeks. He wrote about this in roughly 1936, at roughly the same time as
Hieromonk Basil (Krivoshein), even a bit earlier. [1]
Hesychasm is a prayerful life, a life with love; at the same time, it
is a mystagogical and liturgical life in which, following one’s
purification from the passions, one attains a profound experience and
taste: the vision of the glory and grace of God. It is not simply a
means of preparation for prayer, as Barlaam had initially thought and
even certain ignorant monks had explained, in which one must press one’s
head to the chest, follow one’s breathing, and gaze at one’s navel.
That is nonsense, and St. Palamas criticized it. Of course, it is
essentially to become focused, but this is not meditation. It is not
meditation, but a deepening in prayer, so that the mind would descend
into the heart, which is the depth of man’s being. As the Savior said: For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts (Matthew 15:19).
The heart has always been considered the center of volitional and
sensuous life, with the mind being the rational center of thinking. The
Savior knew whereof He spoke; He knew man. And the heart is much more
than just the volitional or sensuous center: it is the very core of
man’s being. When the Savior said: Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God
(Matthew 5:8), this means that not only are the senses or will
purified, but the whole person. This includes, of course, the human body
as well, and even the physical heart. I was surprised when a doctor
said to me: “You know, in recent times we’ve recognized the important
role the heart plays in the human nervous system.” And I said: “Where’ve
you been until now? I knew this even without you!”
Or take another organ, such as the stomach. It also has a profound
influence on one’s nervous and psychological life. Again I say: “We knew
this, too.” When one is in extreme grief it can happen (and it happened
to me once) that a strong desire to vomit arises; the stomach
convulses. That is, there is a strong link between physical and nervous
life.
Bishop Atanasije (Jevtic) and Fr Stamatis Skliris
The heart is the whole of a person. A man shall draw nigh, and the heart is deep
(Psalm 63:7, LXX), says the psalm so briefly and concisely. Therefore,
if one prays only in one’s mind, this prayer will be superficial,
despite the fact that the mind is a profound organ of the human person,
of his soul. But only when the mind is united with the heart can it
function properly. Such is the connection of the organs, of the
psychophysical constitution of the human person. This is how Palamas and
the hesychast Fathers spoke about this.
There is a homily on prayer attributed to St. Symeon the New
Theologian that does not in fact belong to him. There it speaks of
attention (prosochi) and prayer (prosefchi). Efchi means supplication or prayer, and pros- means to approach, as for instance in “to step” [stupit’] and “to step up to” [pristupit’]. It is the same with prosefchi. And prosochi also has the meaning of being close to something, of attention to something or someone, of being close to him.
Attention, my dear ones, is very important in human life. St. Basil
corrected Greek wisdom. In Delphi there was an inscription, allegedly by
the prophetess Pythia, stating: “know thyself” (gnothi seauton).
Socrates and his disciples liked to repeat this. But Basil says in one
of his homilies that man cannot know himself, but he can be attentive to
himself. This is from his homilies on Genesis, when God tells Lot to
leave Sodom and, in so doing, to be attentive to himself: Proseche se afton. Instead of “know thyself,” St. Basil the Great says: “be attentive to thyself.”
The attentive person can do much more for himself and within himself:
first of all, he can draw God’s attention, God’s love, God’s grace. St.
Symeon the New Theologian says that one must struggle, pray, weep,
repent, and undertake ascetic labors – but all the while recognizing
that it is not ascetic struggles that save us, but attention, God’s
eyes, which see us in this spiritual disposition and condition. It is
He, the Lord, Who saves us. Through one’s ascetic struggles one simply
demonstrates that one desires salvation and that one is disposing
oneself to it, that is, that one is attentive to it.
In the Old Testament more importance is attributed to the sense of
hearing. The ancient Greeks always emphasized the sense of sight:
everything is marvelous; everywhere there is beauty, kosmos [ornament, order]. There is a good series of books about this by Losev: History of Classical Aesthetics.
[2] All Greek philosophy comes down to aesthetics. Florovsky writes
that this was likewise the case in nineteenth-century Russian
philosophy, even for Soloviev. Such is the temptation of aesthetics,
that everything must be beautiful.
Of course, this does not negate the importance of vision in Holy
Scripture. For instance, here I am delivering a lecture and looking at
you. Who is more attentive – is it the person looking at me? Of course,
one can look while being absent. When we were little boys – there were
six of us – Mother would suddenly say to me, for example: “Where are
you? Where have you gone?” “No, I’m here.” But she saw that I “had
gone,” even though I was looking at her. But if one pays attention to
sound, one cannot be absent. One is more focused when one pays attention
to sound. And so St. Basil says: “Be attentive to thyself.”
Ascetic struggle consists of praying more deeply within oneself and
of being focused. The Fathers once spoke of two monks who were walking
to church. One of them constantly repeated: “O Come, let us worship and
fall down before Christ… O Come, let us worship…” The other could not
restrain himself, and asked: “Why don’t you read the Psalms, but instead
are always repeating just this?” The former replied: “I’m summoning all
my senses, so they would come together to worship Christ.”
Incidentally, according to Gregory the Sinaite – and Symeon the New
Theologian spoke of this earlier – the Fall of man consisted of his
dispersion: his senses, thoughts, will, desires – each pulls the body in
its own direction. Grace is like a good coordinator. Thus, in some
governments there are the ministers of such-and-such and such-and-such,
and then there is the minister of coordination, of communication, who
links them all together. The grace of the Holy Spirit unites us, making
us into one person. And indeed, when someone senses and receives God’s
gift, then within himself he immediately becomes one, unified. This is
what hesychasm affirms.
The purpose, or fullness, is the manifestation of the grace of God:
that one would with all one’s being not only feel, but taste and even
see it. The hesychasts said that they saw the same light as the Apostles
on Tabor; they said that this light is Divine; that this light is
Divine energy, which can be distinguished but not separated from the
Godhead. Therefore, when Divine grace comes, God comes – but He is
present in His energy, and not in His essence. And, of course, His
presence is personal, because essence is always the essence of someone,
and essential energy is likewise the energy of someone – it is the
activity of his nature, of his essence. In this Palamas already
confessed the fullness of triadological theology.
Barlaam, as a philosopher following Aristotle, rejected this, saying
that such categories cannot be distinguished in God, because God’s being
is simple (aplotis) and without complexity, and this introduces
complexity. Palamas responded very cleverly: could it really be that
God’s Essence and His Hypostases are the same? We believe in three
Hypostases and one Essence. Does this in fact divide God? Does this make
God complex? No, God remains simple. Thus, if we confess God to be
tri-hypostatic and almighty (pantodynamos) – that is, if He has
might, energy, and power – we thereby do not create any complexity in
Him. As such, Palamas spoke in the language of theological confession,
and not of philosophy. Faith gives meaning to words!
The Fathers had done the same in earlier times. Ignatius of Antioch
said to the Jews: “We have an archive, documents, antiquity, Holy
Scripture.” He told them: “But what is antiquity? For me, the archive is
the Cross, the Body and Blood of Christ, His death and Resurrection!”
It seems paradoxical: why is this an archive for him? But it was an
archive for him: “Why are you talking to me about papers and even
tablets of the Law – so what? God broke them. But when I suffer for
Christ, I live and anticipate eternal blessedness.” [3]
The Cappadocian Fathers said the same thing: faith gives meaning to words. There is a good article by Lossky about this, not in The Mystical Theology, but somewhere he has something on faith as the principle of consciousness.
Barlaam rejected any distinction – and, even more so – any division
in God, asserting only eternal simplicity. According to him, the saints
there [in heaven] will only partake of God’s essence, while here they
will see only created light and grace as a created gift, as habitus
(habit). [4] This means that God, as it were, creates little packages
or boxes – just as during our Serbian catastrophe the Americans send us
humanitarian aid: first bombs, and then packages. So God, too,
supposedly gives out these little packages, to each in his own way – but
it is already clear that these packages or gifts have nothing to do
with God! By their very nature and content all this is external, alien,
created. The result is that we do not have communion with God.
Or here is another example: think of a young spouse, a bride, who is
taken home, but her husband does not see her, does not love her, does
not live with her – but every day gives her little packages or gifts.
She would go out of her mind! Think of Dostoevsky’s novella, “The Meek
One,” one of his most beautiful pieces. I even wrote an article about
it. The heroine could not stand this “prince” who had married her: he
loved himself most of all, and she could not tolerate this contempt and
humiliation.
We are arriving at the most important point. What is salvation? It is
union with God of the closest and most intimate kind, just as Christ
united more than closely with the seed of Abraham: He also Himself likewise partook [paraplisios] of the same (Hebrews 2:14). Plisios is “near,” and plision is “neighbor.” But paraplisios
is even better, even more than simply a close partaking in body and
blood. We attain the closest participation when we receive Communion. In
the prayers it says: “Christ! O Wisdom, Word and Power of God! Grant
that we may more perfectly partake of Thee.” [5] “More perfectly” means
more truly, deeper, more participatively. This, too, is what paraplisios means.
Thus, we unite with God. But what kind of union is this? According to
essence? Then we would disappear; it would be pantheism and we would
cease to exist. God is that mighty in His essence. It would be as if we
threw a small crumb of bread into the fire or a drop of water into the
ocean. What will happen to them there? Therefore it is not a union
according to essence. Hypostatic union in our nature takes place only in
the Person of Christ. We unite only with the energy of God, thanks to
Christ’s hypostatic union: He came to us and became the mediator (mesitis). “Intercessor” [khodatai] is not entirely exact, because an intercessor goes between two people, as I understand this word. “Mediator” [posrednik]
is also an “intermediary” between two people. But the Fathers (for
example, Nicholas Cabasilas at the time of St. Palamas) say that it is
as if a third person took two people and united them with himself and
they became linked, becoming one. This is how Christ, as Mediator,
united God and man in one.
We were always told about Marx’s theory that capital is the mediator
between the means of production (natural resources, etc.) and labor.
Marx was a Protestant, coming from a Protestant environment, and
understood mediation in that way. Protestantism has the following
understanding of a mediator: God sent an ambassador to us to sign a
contract between God and us. No, this is not the Incarnation of which
St. Athanasius spoke, and Irenaeus even before him, and which Palamas
repeated. Christ destroyed the wall of partition and God became man –
the God-Man. This means that, thanks to Christ’s hypostatic
inhumanization, we can partake of Divine energy, which is the content of
Divine life.
Every being and creature has energy. Even a stone has the energy of
gravity and force: a large stone placed on your foot will press on it.
This is the energy of gravity. Every being is qualified, that is, is
characterized by qualitative characteristics; if these qualities are
removed, then nothing will remain – it will be a fictional entity. In
this sense, energy is capacity; essence is manifest with the help of its
activity.
Such is the ontology of Divine energy. Therefore, we can partake of
Divine life, of the life in which God lives. The Divine state – this perichoresis
[mutual indwelling] among the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – is joy,
love, light, and blessedness. This is what we partake of, which means
that we partake of the Godhead.
At one point Palamas said somewhat incautiously, as had the Areopagite, that God’s essence is “beyond” being (yperekeina) or even “supra-divine” (ypertheos). Then one could have said that the energy is, as it were, the “further” or “underlying” (yfeimeni) part of the Godhead (“overlying” is yperkeimeni).
Later, when it was pointed out to him that he was dividing the Godhead,
he abandoned the distinction of this “further part.” All this is a
single active Godhead, and the energy is the uncreated, eternal Divine
power. If Palamas were alive today, modern physics would suit him very
well.
He thereby affirmed the reality of salvation and the reality of
communion. But all the Western scholastics taught what Palamas called
“created grace” (gratia creata). Peculiar icons began appearing
at the time of the scholastics: you see that the saints are terribly fat
and have a sort of circle, like a hoop, over their heads; it is a halo,
but it has no connection with the saint – it hangs by itself. The
Orthodox, however, do not even need to paint a halo: the entire
background of icons or frescoes is already golden. They shine, and the
gold is everywhere.
(To be continued…)
Translator’s notes:
[1] His Grace is likely referring to The Ascetical and Theological Teaching of Gregory Palamas
by Hieromonk (later Archbishop) Basil (Krivoshein) (1900-1985),
published in Russian in Prague in 1936; an English version appeared in
the journal Eastern Churches Quarterly, vol. III, 1938. George
Ostrogorsky (1902-1976) published an article in Russian on the Athonite
hesychasts and their opponents in Russian in 1931; he is well known to
English-language readers as the author of History of the Byzantine State (first published in German in 1952, then in English in 1969).
[2] Aleksei Fedorovich Losev (1893-1988) was a prominent Russian
philosopher, philologist, and culturologist. Several years after his
death it was revealed that both he and his wife had been secretly
tonsured to monasticism in 1929. The series of books mentioned by the
author appeared in eight volumes between 1963 and 1988. One of his
pivotal early works, The Dialectics of Myth, originally published in 1930, exists in English translation (New York, NY: Routledge, 2003).
[3] Cf. Epistle to the Philadelphians, 8.
[4] According to scholastic theology, created grace is a habitus
(Latin) in the sense of being a received or perfecting quality. It
should not be confused with the contemporary sense of “habit” as a
settled tendency or practice.
[5] Paschal Canon, Ode 9.
Source:http://www.pravmir.com/the-heart-is-deep-st-gregory-palamas-and-the-essence-of-hesychasm/
The Golden Struggles at the Caves of St. Anne
From “The Elder Joseph the Hesychast (+1959): Strugles, Experiences, Teachings,” by Elder Joseph (of Vatopaidi), Mount Athos: The Holy and Great Monastery of Vatopaidi, 1999.
It would be an omission if we were to conceal the full truth in order to please people at large, and thus downplay the reality of how men of God think and act. The Elder knew the inner state of each one of us, and explained to us in detail how and why each thing happened to us, whether it was our own thoughts or the result of our passions or even the gift of grace; and he also revealed the ways to be cured and thus free ourselves of the unwanted things that happened to us. He was full of God’s grace, truly illumined, and gave abundantly his heart, without contrivance or effort or specialized qualifications but out of the treasure of his life experience, and in a way that was simple and convincing. He offered this to each individually according to what was revealed to him about our state; and when some of his advice and teachings exceeded the disciple’s capacity to receive them, he would supplement them with his prayer. The ever-memorable Elder also had the invariable practice never to undertake anything without prayer and the receipt of divine guidance; accordingly, whenever we asked him about something we were considering undertaking, we never received an immediate answer.
As at St Basil, so also there—in the caves of St. Anne—we had difficulties because of the lack of space and also because of the strict rule of our daily life; the Elder took particular care to avoid the introduction of any comfort and ease. The permanent norm in our life was the makeshift, the temporary, the cheap and whatever involved little care and could be done simply. He laid stress and placed value on an orderly life, and for that reason he paid minute attention to rules and insisted that they were kept at all times. Sometimes, when we raised the question of economy for the sake of those who were unable to “accommodate” our life style, he would give a precise answer, both from personal experience as well as from the sayings of the Holy Fathers, which he understood and applied in detail. He was by nature mild, peaceful and extremely sympathetic towards his neighbor; with himself, however, he was uncompromising and harsh to an incredible degree. It was due to this that he persevered along the lines of his initial fervor, right up to the end of his life.
The bitter struggles of his early life, the constant deprivations that he imposed upon himself, the other hardships created by the restricted surroundings in which he liked to live, and his refusal to compromise over the smallest and most simply provided conveniences which could have brought him some solace, all this caused his state of health to deteriorate to such a degree that he looked like a worn-out old man. His legs got even worse so that he could scarcely stand or walk at all, except short distances and with breaks. He suffered from fluctuating swelling throughout his body, and he had glaucoma. When on occasion he cut his hands, particularly on the upper part, water came out instead of blood. Even mild fatigue resulted in breathing difficulties. He maintained a strict dietary rule each and every day, as he had been accustomed to do from the beginning; he would never break it no matter what happened. He would not consume any food outside of the appointed time. We also observed his great exhaustion whenever his body was all worn out, and noted that he could not sleep at his usual hour.
Later, when our brother Ephraim came and then Haralambos, we stopped doing outside jobs and started our handiwork. At that time we set about putting together some sort of household, because if I described what and how I found them when I first went there, today’s generation would never believe me. Every household deficiency would be tolerated on the basis of the Elder’s spirit of frugality which we tried to follow to the extent that we could. But, on the question of shelter there was no leeway for economy, because there was simply no room and we had to build something ourselves. I dare not describe what immense difficulty this presented, for fear that it might happen again! As for the sort of means we had to use and the conditions under which we constructed those dwellings, makeshift as they were, God alone knows. Work like this, under the most difficult of conditions, can be done only by the beginners’ youthful fervor of those in whom divine grace has covered their eyes and made their hearts drunk for God, so that they have become “like deaf men and heard not, and ones that are dumb,” in the words of the Psalm.
In addition to the fasts appointed by the Church, the Elders also had their own rules so as to intensify their struggle. They continued this practice of theirs when they were at the caves, where we lived with them, with the difference that they did not allow us younger monks to follow this stricter fast rule. Haralambos was not there then when my younger brother Ephraim and I put great pressure on the Elder to let us follow their regime as well. It was the beginning of Great Lent, and our rule required strict silence except on Saturday and Sunday and severe fasting, which took a different form each year. At that time the regime was 25 drachms (about 75 grams) of ordinary flour. We would each boil this up with a little water in a tin can, and add a little salt. This would be consumed after Vespers, at about the ninth hour Byzantine time (three hours before sunset). During the weekend there were meals, but again the bread according to measure, not just as much as one wanted. That was the rule for that Lent. When we had persuaded the Elder to agree to our following the same rule with them, we jumped for joy and started off after the Wednesday of the first week of Lent. All went well until about the fifth week, when our exhaustion and loss of strength became very palpable. One morning, towards the end of that week, we failed to wake up at the usual time, despite the fact that Father Arsenios knocked at the window. The Elder asked why we were not stirring as usual, and Father Arsenios told him we were ill and could not get up. “No, Arsenios,: he said to him, “don’t be naive. There’s nothing wrong with them. Just give them a bit of bread and they will be cured immediately, no question about it.” Indeed, when we took this ‘medicine’ we were cured at once! Thus we learnt to stay within our own measure, and not extend ourselves beyond our strength.
I shall never forget those days which were really the golden age of my life. I feel such nostalgia for those heavenly days; and if it were possible, how I would like to relive those calm and untroubled moments! In such a calm and untroubled life our youthful and innocent souls could frolic within the embrace of a truly fatherly love and guardianship. With the Elder’s care, the fruits of stillness and the sense of security which we felt gave us every assurance of an unimpeded continuity, successful in every way. It is one thing to struggle and make an effort with the help of good intentions and knowledge from reading, and quite another to stand near, indeed side by side, with a craftsman and teacher, who in a certain way directs your every move.
It was a marvelous thing about the ever-memorable Elder that, while he had none of the “external competence” afforded by human knowledge, he could readily make himself clear on whatever he wanted to explain. He also fully understood the meaning of the Bible and the Holy Orthodox Fathers. This is also evident from the few letters of his which have been published by our brothers of Philotheou Monastery in the book “Monastic Wisdom.”
When a person explains a problem and answers a question along broad and general lines, what he says is of course true; but he does not readily inform and convince others because the terms in which he is speaking are not entirely specific. But, in the Elder’s case, it would happen that he would give a clarifying explanation, in minute detail and beyond what was asked, even things that the person concerned had been unable to pinpoint for lack of experience. The teacher would then place that person’s finger in the print of the nails, and with living proofs cast light on all the obscure points of his concern or his path. Even where the disciple had difficulty because of lack of faith, the Elder would bring him to full understanding, banishing the slightest hesitation, in the name of grace from his own abundance. Then we would cry out rejoicing, Come, we have found Him who is awaited, of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote. (Jn 1:45).
Neither the austerity of the regime, nor the lack of basic necessities, nor the rugged and impossible terrain, nor the necessity of carrying loads so as to maintain six or seven people could make our purpose lose its drive, since by the mercy of God grace gave us full assurance through the prayers of the Elders. But our nature of clay shrank back, and the Lord’s saying was fulfilled, that the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. (Mt 26:41).
I personally suffered increasingly from coughing up blood and stomach hemorrhages, but my ardent intent and the experience of grace which accompanies the good fight covered all these weaknesses, for we had as our prime model the Elder, who looked at everything through faith and not through reason. In this small experiment of our life and under the care of the Elder, the repeated aid from divine goodness, the continuing mysterious protection of grace, and the constant sense of security in all directions oblige us to believe and proclaim that success in monastic life depends for the most part on the support of a spiritual guide; and he who has ears to hear, let him hear. (Mt 11:15). Certainly there is nothing novel in this opinion nor is it some new discovery, but simply a confirmation of the patristic tradition; thus, blessed is the disciple who will keep these things, and will discern the mercies of the Lord. (cf. Hosea 14:9).
With persistent efforts, as I have said, we somewhat improved our surroundings and our life in general, but there were still many things we lacked. Until we were better organized, we also lacked, most of all, our health, while at the same time the Elder was all worn out; any movement caused him difficulty, and his whole life had become an immense trial. The Elder loved working and did not stop at all during the hours when his rule allowed it. Our handiwork was making little carved crosses, which he carved with great facility and speed, while we prepared the wood. He lived alone in the little hut we had built him at some distance from us, and we would go to see him at midday and then leave on our own.
The place where we were living was isolated and quiet but very exposed to the elements. Thus, the cold was more intense, to the point where we persuaded him to let us put in some heating for him with a stove. I measured up and prepared the materials to build it, with iron plate on the outside and clay inside. I got ready for the next day, as I had promised him the evening before, and in the morning I gathered up my tools and the materials and went to a place nearby to build it with a plan to install it later. I made a prostration, as always, and started off in fine weather, because I was working out doors. As soon as I had measured up and cut out the component parts and begun work, the weather broke abruptly. Then I kept finding extraordinary difficulty in whatever I tried to do. There was a curious wind blowing, which did not have any particular direction; it just stirred up everything against me and blew in my face whatever was around—iron plate, boards, waste paper and sand. In a strange way my tools would desert me and roll away for no reason, because the area was not altogether on a slope. Nails went in crooked for no reason, at the slightest touch; drills broke; my plans were altered, when I had measured them up and cut them out with precision.
In the beginning I took no notice, and hurried to put things back in order and get on with the job. After a while, however, it became very obvious that something was afoot. I stopped for a while, because I had literally smashed all my fingers to pieces, and I felt a strange inner disquiet, arousing anger, confusion, and impatience. “it’s a strange thing,” I said to myself; “something’s going on!” In the meantime the weather had worsened as well and that forced me to stop all work and go to the Elder. My little project was a two-hour job, three at the most; yet more than six hours had gone by without achieving anything. Then I remembered something the Elder had said to me in the morning when I started off, but I had not taken much notice. “Let’s see, then,” he had said to me; “will you get anything done today?” I did not pay much attention to the meaning of those words; I thought he had said it to humble me, perhaps, because I was familiar with that sort of work. Indeed, I was eager to have it finished as soon and as successfully as possible so as to make things easier for him, and with the secret joy that he had allowed us to put in heating for him, and I was going to do it all by myself!
So I went and knocked on his door and he opened it. As soon as he saw my state of agitation, he started to laugh.
“What’s going on here, Elder?” I asked. “And why did you say to me this morning, like a prediction, ‘If I finish anything?’ Because you know that this was child’s play for me.”
“What did you conclude it was?” he asked playfully.
“A trial,” I told him; “the work of Satan.”
“That it was,” he replied. “Listen, I’ll explain this mystery, as it appeared to you. In the evening during my prayer, when I had finished and wanted to rest, I saw Satan threatening to put obstacles and trials in the way of my decision and my plans. And I said to our Christ, “Lord, don’t stop him, so that I can show him that I love You and will endure the cold as long as You allow it.” So that was why all this happened, my boy, so that I shouldn’t have heating quickly, as you wanted me to.”
Having been a witness to this drama, when I heard these details and the mysteries of hidden providence by which the spiritual law operates, I was lost in amazement, and silently confessed, Great art Thou, O Lord, and marvellous are Thy works, and no word sufficeth to hymn and glorify Thy wonders! This incident helped me to understand the power of the word of the Elders, who—according to Abba Poimen and Abba Dorotheos—conceal within themselves the power and operation of grace, as a sign of their personal state and experience. Like so many other Elders in the patristic hierarchy, those two luminaries base their advice and instruction on patristic texts rather than the Bible – the patristic tradition being in essence the Bible analyzed.
Despite the austerity of the regime which the Elder adapted to our surroundings, he maintained undiminished his sympathy and love for his neighbor and showed it in practice towards the infirm and poor, be they fathers or lay people. I recall that there were some infirm elders, particularly in Karoulia, whom he looked after more or less permanently, often sending them what they needed and in particular food ready prepared. Sympathy, as the first fruit of a soul that loves God, and faith as a sure stronghold, were the reasons why he left nothing in our modest huts, to the point where it was hard for us to endure, inexperienced as we were in the operation of faith. He gave whatever we had to those who asked, and left us with hopes, as the saying goes. And yet, in this way he helped us to enter quickly into the providence of faith, which gave us so much support in our later life.
When on occasion we came back from some errand and recounted some mishap or trouble which we had heard about or seen happening to someone, he would weep and, if he happened to be eating, would stop his meal. Again, if anyone did him some kindness, directly or indirectly, he would never forget it, but would look for ways and opportunities to repay it, if at all possible, with something more. But the way he expressed his gratitude and sympathy most fully was in prayer. For hours on end he would pray with tears for the world and he truly shared in the pain of all mankind, especially of people known to him who asked him to pray for them. Sometimes I would see him in acute distress and ask what was the matter, and he would reply with anguish that someone of the people we knew was suffering and was asking for help.
When on occasion we asked him out of curiosity about the “law of influence,” how this mystery of contact works so that a soul can communicate with another person far away, he avoided explaining it to us directly because of our curiosity. But on another occasion, when the same subject came up and it was a matter of strengthening us personally, he explained it to us according to the measure of our smallness so that we could understand.
Our brother Athanasios was with us, the Elder’s brother according to the flesh, who more than all the rest of us would travel here and there taking care of the community’s jobs and responsibilities. In order to avoid contact and meetings with too many people and to also forego the heat of the day, since he was almost always carrying a large load, he would travel either very early in the morning or, more usually, late in the afternoon, in which case there was not much time before he would be walking at night. This happened almost always, particularly in the summer. I was amazed on one occasion, when the Elder waited for him with particular interest, until he had arrived, what he was carrying an immense load and had experienced great difficulties getting back to our caves.
On another occasion, I showed particular insistence on finding out how he received his information, and this was what he told me: “It would be better for me to pray for you to experience it, rather than to learn how it happens as a mere piece of knowledge. But since you insist, listen. I was kneeling here at the window on my rags, saying the prayer. At one moment, as I was in deep prayer—which divine grace brings about with its divine illumination—the light increased and my mind began to broaden out and overflow so that everything became luminous for me and I saw the whole of the surrounding area, from Katounakia to the monasteries down below as far as Daphne, and behind me as well, and nothing was invisible or unknown to me. The light was not as much as this natural light from the sun or the artificial, man-made light, but it was a wonderful light, white and immaterial, which is not only external, like the natural light which allows those who have sight to see. This light is also within man and he experiences it like his own breath, and it fills him like nourishment and breathing and relieves him of his natural weight and transfigures him so that he would not know that he had a body or weight or any restriction. Then,” he told us, “I saw Athanasios coming towards us on the road from St Paul’s, carrying his huge load, and I remained observing him until he arrived here. I saw all his movements, where he sat down to rest or put down his load, the spring of St. Anna at the mill where he stopped for a drink of water, up to the point when he reached our door and took the key and opened it and came in and came up to me and made a prostration.
But what is it that amazed you so? When man’s mind is purified and illumined (aside from the fact that even without the addition of divine grace it has its own illumination, with which it sees further than the demons, as the Fathers say), it then receives in addition the illumination of divine grace, so that grace can reside in it permanently, and grace then takes it up into contemplation and visions, in a manner and to a degree known to itself. But it is also possible for the person himself to ask in his prayer when he wants to see or find out something that interests him, and grace will operate to fulfill his request, because he asked it. But I think that devout people avoid asking such a thing except in great need. However, the Lord ‘will do the will of them that fear Him and will hearken to their prayer.’ ”
As at St Basil, so also there—in the caves of St. Anne—we had difficulties because of the lack of space and also because of the strict rule of our daily life; the Elder took particular care to avoid the introduction of any comfort and ease. The permanent norm in our life was the makeshift, the temporary, the cheap and whatever involved little care and could be done simply. He laid stress and placed value on an orderly life, and for that reason he paid minute attention to rules and insisted that they were kept at all times. Sometimes, when we raised the question of economy for the sake of those who were unable to “accommodate” our life style, he would give a precise answer, both from personal experience as well as from the sayings of the Holy Fathers, which he understood and applied in detail. He was by nature mild, peaceful and extremely sympathetic towards his neighbor; with himself, however, he was uncompromising and harsh to an incredible degree. It was due to this that he persevered along the lines of his initial fervor, right up to the end of his life.
The bitter struggles of his early life, the constant deprivations that he imposed upon himself, the other hardships created by the restricted surroundings in which he liked to live, and his refusal to compromise over the smallest and most simply provided conveniences which could have brought him some solace, all this caused his state of health to deteriorate to such a degree that he looked like a worn-out old man. His legs got even worse so that he could scarcely stand or walk at all, except short distances and with breaks. He suffered from fluctuating swelling throughout his body, and he had glaucoma. When on occasion he cut his hands, particularly on the upper part, water came out instead of blood. Even mild fatigue resulted in breathing difficulties. He maintained a strict dietary rule each and every day, as he had been accustomed to do from the beginning; he would never break it no matter what happened. He would not consume any food outside of the appointed time. We also observed his great exhaustion whenever his body was all worn out, and noted that he could not sleep at his usual hour.
Later, when our brother Ephraim came and then Haralambos, we stopped doing outside jobs and started our handiwork. At that time we set about putting together some sort of household, because if I described what and how I found them when I first went there, today’s generation would never believe me. Every household deficiency would be tolerated on the basis of the Elder’s spirit of frugality which we tried to follow to the extent that we could. But, on the question of shelter there was no leeway for economy, because there was simply no room and we had to build something ourselves. I dare not describe what immense difficulty this presented, for fear that it might happen again! As for the sort of means we had to use and the conditions under which we constructed those dwellings, makeshift as they were, God alone knows. Work like this, under the most difficult of conditions, can be done only by the beginners’ youthful fervor of those in whom divine grace has covered their eyes and made their hearts drunk for God, so that they have become “like deaf men and heard not, and ones that are dumb,” in the words of the Psalm.
In addition to the fasts appointed by the Church, the Elders also had their own rules so as to intensify their struggle. They continued this practice of theirs when they were at the caves, where we lived with them, with the difference that they did not allow us younger monks to follow this stricter fast rule. Haralambos was not there then when my younger brother Ephraim and I put great pressure on the Elder to let us follow their regime as well. It was the beginning of Great Lent, and our rule required strict silence except on Saturday and Sunday and severe fasting, which took a different form each year. At that time the regime was 25 drachms (about 75 grams) of ordinary flour. We would each boil this up with a little water in a tin can, and add a little salt. This would be consumed after Vespers, at about the ninth hour Byzantine time (three hours before sunset). During the weekend there were meals, but again the bread according to measure, not just as much as one wanted. That was the rule for that Lent. When we had persuaded the Elder to agree to our following the same rule with them, we jumped for joy and started off after the Wednesday of the first week of Lent. All went well until about the fifth week, when our exhaustion and loss of strength became very palpable. One morning, towards the end of that week, we failed to wake up at the usual time, despite the fact that Father Arsenios knocked at the window. The Elder asked why we were not stirring as usual, and Father Arsenios told him we were ill and could not get up. “No, Arsenios,: he said to him, “don’t be naive. There’s nothing wrong with them. Just give them a bit of bread and they will be cured immediately, no question about it.” Indeed, when we took this ‘medicine’ we were cured at once! Thus we learnt to stay within our own measure, and not extend ourselves beyond our strength.
I shall never forget those days which were really the golden age of my life. I feel such nostalgia for those heavenly days; and if it were possible, how I would like to relive those calm and untroubled moments! In such a calm and untroubled life our youthful and innocent souls could frolic within the embrace of a truly fatherly love and guardianship. With the Elder’s care, the fruits of stillness and the sense of security which we felt gave us every assurance of an unimpeded continuity, successful in every way. It is one thing to struggle and make an effort with the help of good intentions and knowledge from reading, and quite another to stand near, indeed side by side, with a craftsman and teacher, who in a certain way directs your every move.
It was a marvelous thing about the ever-memorable Elder that, while he had none of the “external competence” afforded by human knowledge, he could readily make himself clear on whatever he wanted to explain. He also fully understood the meaning of the Bible and the Holy Orthodox Fathers. This is also evident from the few letters of his which have been published by our brothers of Philotheou Monastery in the book “Monastic Wisdom.”
When a person explains a problem and answers a question along broad and general lines, what he says is of course true; but he does not readily inform and convince others because the terms in which he is speaking are not entirely specific. But, in the Elder’s case, it would happen that he would give a clarifying explanation, in minute detail and beyond what was asked, even things that the person concerned had been unable to pinpoint for lack of experience. The teacher would then place that person’s finger in the print of the nails, and with living proofs cast light on all the obscure points of his concern or his path. Even where the disciple had difficulty because of lack of faith, the Elder would bring him to full understanding, banishing the slightest hesitation, in the name of grace from his own abundance. Then we would cry out rejoicing, Come, we have found Him who is awaited, of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote. (Jn 1:45).
Neither the austerity of the regime, nor the lack of basic necessities, nor the rugged and impossible terrain, nor the necessity of carrying loads so as to maintain six or seven people could make our purpose lose its drive, since by the mercy of God grace gave us full assurance through the prayers of the Elders. But our nature of clay shrank back, and the Lord’s saying was fulfilled, that the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. (Mt 26:41).
I personally suffered increasingly from coughing up blood and stomach hemorrhages, but my ardent intent and the experience of grace which accompanies the good fight covered all these weaknesses, for we had as our prime model the Elder, who looked at everything through faith and not through reason. In this small experiment of our life and under the care of the Elder, the repeated aid from divine goodness, the continuing mysterious protection of grace, and the constant sense of security in all directions oblige us to believe and proclaim that success in monastic life depends for the most part on the support of a spiritual guide; and he who has ears to hear, let him hear. (Mt 11:15). Certainly there is nothing novel in this opinion nor is it some new discovery, but simply a confirmation of the patristic tradition; thus, blessed is the disciple who will keep these things, and will discern the mercies of the Lord. (cf. Hosea 14:9).
With persistent efforts, as I have said, we somewhat improved our surroundings and our life in general, but there were still many things we lacked. Until we were better organized, we also lacked, most of all, our health, while at the same time the Elder was all worn out; any movement caused him difficulty, and his whole life had become an immense trial. The Elder loved working and did not stop at all during the hours when his rule allowed it. Our handiwork was making little carved crosses, which he carved with great facility and speed, while we prepared the wood. He lived alone in the little hut we had built him at some distance from us, and we would go to see him at midday and then leave on our own.
The place where we were living was isolated and quiet but very exposed to the elements. Thus, the cold was more intense, to the point where we persuaded him to let us put in some heating for him with a stove. I measured up and prepared the materials to build it, with iron plate on the outside and clay inside. I got ready for the next day, as I had promised him the evening before, and in the morning I gathered up my tools and the materials and went to a place nearby to build it with a plan to install it later. I made a prostration, as always, and started off in fine weather, because I was working out doors. As soon as I had measured up and cut out the component parts and begun work, the weather broke abruptly. Then I kept finding extraordinary difficulty in whatever I tried to do. There was a curious wind blowing, which did not have any particular direction; it just stirred up everything against me and blew in my face whatever was around—iron plate, boards, waste paper and sand. In a strange way my tools would desert me and roll away for no reason, because the area was not altogether on a slope. Nails went in crooked for no reason, at the slightest touch; drills broke; my plans were altered, when I had measured them up and cut them out with precision.
In the beginning I took no notice, and hurried to put things back in order and get on with the job. After a while, however, it became very obvious that something was afoot. I stopped for a while, because I had literally smashed all my fingers to pieces, and I felt a strange inner disquiet, arousing anger, confusion, and impatience. “it’s a strange thing,” I said to myself; “something’s going on!” In the meantime the weather had worsened as well and that forced me to stop all work and go to the Elder. My little project was a two-hour job, three at the most; yet more than six hours had gone by without achieving anything. Then I remembered something the Elder had said to me in the morning when I started off, but I had not taken much notice. “Let’s see, then,” he had said to me; “will you get anything done today?” I did not pay much attention to the meaning of those words; I thought he had said it to humble me, perhaps, because I was familiar with that sort of work. Indeed, I was eager to have it finished as soon and as successfully as possible so as to make things easier for him, and with the secret joy that he had allowed us to put in heating for him, and I was going to do it all by myself!
So I went and knocked on his door and he opened it. As soon as he saw my state of agitation, he started to laugh.
“What’s going on here, Elder?” I asked. “And why did you say to me this morning, like a prediction, ‘If I finish anything?’ Because you know that this was child’s play for me.”
“What did you conclude it was?” he asked playfully.
“A trial,” I told him; “the work of Satan.”
“That it was,” he replied. “Listen, I’ll explain this mystery, as it appeared to you. In the evening during my prayer, when I had finished and wanted to rest, I saw Satan threatening to put obstacles and trials in the way of my decision and my plans. And I said to our Christ, “Lord, don’t stop him, so that I can show him that I love You and will endure the cold as long as You allow it.” So that was why all this happened, my boy, so that I shouldn’t have heating quickly, as you wanted me to.”
Having been a witness to this drama, when I heard these details and the mysteries of hidden providence by which the spiritual law operates, I was lost in amazement, and silently confessed, Great art Thou, O Lord, and marvellous are Thy works, and no word sufficeth to hymn and glorify Thy wonders! This incident helped me to understand the power of the word of the Elders, who—according to Abba Poimen and Abba Dorotheos—conceal within themselves the power and operation of grace, as a sign of their personal state and experience. Like so many other Elders in the patristic hierarchy, those two luminaries base their advice and instruction on patristic texts rather than the Bible – the patristic tradition being in essence the Bible analyzed.
Despite the austerity of the regime which the Elder adapted to our surroundings, he maintained undiminished his sympathy and love for his neighbor and showed it in practice towards the infirm and poor, be they fathers or lay people. I recall that there were some infirm elders, particularly in Karoulia, whom he looked after more or less permanently, often sending them what they needed and in particular food ready prepared. Sympathy, as the first fruit of a soul that loves God, and faith as a sure stronghold, were the reasons why he left nothing in our modest huts, to the point where it was hard for us to endure, inexperienced as we were in the operation of faith. He gave whatever we had to those who asked, and left us with hopes, as the saying goes. And yet, in this way he helped us to enter quickly into the providence of faith, which gave us so much support in our later life.
When on occasion we came back from some errand and recounted some mishap or trouble which we had heard about or seen happening to someone, he would weep and, if he happened to be eating, would stop his meal. Again, if anyone did him some kindness, directly or indirectly, he would never forget it, but would look for ways and opportunities to repay it, if at all possible, with something more. But the way he expressed his gratitude and sympathy most fully was in prayer. For hours on end he would pray with tears for the world and he truly shared in the pain of all mankind, especially of people known to him who asked him to pray for them. Sometimes I would see him in acute distress and ask what was the matter, and he would reply with anguish that someone of the people we knew was suffering and was asking for help.
When on occasion we asked him out of curiosity about the “law of influence,” how this mystery of contact works so that a soul can communicate with another person far away, he avoided explaining it to us directly because of our curiosity. But on another occasion, when the same subject came up and it was a matter of strengthening us personally, he explained it to us according to the measure of our smallness so that we could understand.
Our brother Athanasios was with us, the Elder’s brother according to the flesh, who more than all the rest of us would travel here and there taking care of the community’s jobs and responsibilities. In order to avoid contact and meetings with too many people and to also forego the heat of the day, since he was almost always carrying a large load, he would travel either very early in the morning or, more usually, late in the afternoon, in which case there was not much time before he would be walking at night. This happened almost always, particularly in the summer. I was amazed on one occasion, when the Elder waited for him with particular interest, until he had arrived, what he was carrying an immense load and had experienced great difficulties getting back to our caves.
On another occasion, I showed particular insistence on finding out how he received his information, and this was what he told me: “It would be better for me to pray for you to experience it, rather than to learn how it happens as a mere piece of knowledge. But since you insist, listen. I was kneeling here at the window on my rags, saying the prayer. At one moment, as I was in deep prayer—which divine grace brings about with its divine illumination—the light increased and my mind began to broaden out and overflow so that everything became luminous for me and I saw the whole of the surrounding area, from Katounakia to the monasteries down below as far as Daphne, and behind me as well, and nothing was invisible or unknown to me. The light was not as much as this natural light from the sun or the artificial, man-made light, but it was a wonderful light, white and immaterial, which is not only external, like the natural light which allows those who have sight to see. This light is also within man and he experiences it like his own breath, and it fills him like nourishment and breathing and relieves him of his natural weight and transfigures him so that he would not know that he had a body or weight or any restriction. Then,” he told us, “I saw Athanasios coming towards us on the road from St Paul’s, carrying his huge load, and I remained observing him until he arrived here. I saw all his movements, where he sat down to rest or put down his load, the spring of St. Anna at the mill where he stopped for a drink of water, up to the point when he reached our door and took the key and opened it and came in and came up to me and made a prostration.
But what is it that amazed you so? When man’s mind is purified and illumined (aside from the fact that even without the addition of divine grace it has its own illumination, with which it sees further than the demons, as the Fathers say), it then receives in addition the illumination of divine grace, so that grace can reside in it permanently, and grace then takes it up into contemplation and visions, in a manner and to a degree known to itself. But it is also possible for the person himself to ask in his prayer when he wants to see or find out something that interests him, and grace will operate to fulfill his request, because he asked it. But I think that devout people avoid asking such a thing except in great need. However, the Lord ‘will do the will of them that fear Him and will hearken to their prayer.’ ”
A Tale of Falling and Repentance
By Abba John of Lycus (from “The Lausiac
History,” by St. Palladius)
There was a monk who lived in the
desert, conducting himself properly and scrupulously for many years. When he was
already getting to be quite elderly, he was severely tested by the wiles of the
demons. His usual practice consisted of passing his days in silence, with many
prayers and psalms and periods of contemplation. He had clear insights into many
divine visions, sometimes waking, and sometimes even when asleep, although he
actually slept hardly at all, living a life apart from the body. He did not till
the ground, he took no thought for the necessities of life, and he cultivated no
garden to supply his bodily needs. Nor did he catch birds or hunt any other
animal, but full of the faith in which he had abandoned human community, he
cared nothing for whether or not his body would be nourished. Forgetful of all
else, he was sustained solely by his desire for God, waiting for his call to
depart from this world, feeding above all on these things which cannot be
perceived with the senses.
Throughout all this time, his body did
not waste or show any ill effects, nor was he gloomy in spirit, but he continued
to appear his normal attractive self. And God truly honored him indeed, for
after a due interval of time He supplied his table with bread for two or three
days, not just apparently but actually, for him to use. He would go into his
inner room when he felt the pangs of hunger and find this food there. And having
praised God and taken some food, he would again sing psalms, persevering in
prayers and contemplation, growing daily, giving himself to the pursuit of
virtue in hope of the future. He went on progressing more and more, until he
almost got to the stage of putting his trust in his own powers of improvement
and thereby came to his downfall, almost perishing in the temptations which then
came upon him.
His thoughts had arrived at such a pass
that he was little by little imprudently beginning to think more of himself than
anyone else, and that he possessed much more than other men, and for this reason
he began to put his trust solely in himself. Not long after he first thought
like this, his vigilance relaxed slightly, but so little that he did not even
notice that there had been any relaxation. But his negligence grew until it
progressed to the extent that he could not fail but notice it. He was late in
waking up to sing psalms, his prayers became shorter, his psalm singing did not
last so long, his soul said to him that he needed to rest (and his mind agreed
with that), his thoughts wandered and scattered, his secret meditations were
spiritless.
But the impetus of his earlier routine
still motivated him, and kept him safe for a while, so that when he went in
after his usual prayers of an evening, he still found the bread supplied by God
on his table and refreshed himself accordingly. But he still did not cut off his
unworthy thoughts, he despised the idea that his soul was being damaged; he made
no attempt to seek a remedy for these evils. Little by little he fell into
omitting many of the things which he ought to have been doing. In thought he
began to develop a desire for human company.
The next day he put a temporary
restraint on himself, and returned to his usual exercises, but after he had
prayed and sung his psalms, he went into the storeroom and found that the bread
placed there was not so well baked or wholesome as usual, but was dirty and
polluted. He wondered about this and was very sad about it, but nevertheless
picked it up and ate it.
Came the third night and with it a
third evil. For thoughts suddenly erupted in his mind, activating his memory so
much that he imagined there was a woman lying with him. This image persisted in
front of his eyes, and he actively encouraged it. But on this third day he went
out to his work and his prayers and his psalms, although his mind was not clean
anymore, and strayed frequently. He lifted up his eyes to the heavens, turning
them this way and that, but the images in his memory prevented his work from
being unspoiled. In the evening when he returned feeling hungry, he found that
the bread looked as if it had been chewed by mice or dogs, and the scraps left
over were dried up as if left outside.
He began to groan and weep, but not so
much as to make him want to correct his faults. Having eaten less than he would
have wished, he prepared himself for rest, but at once his thoughts went wild,
dancing around in every direction, battling for possession of his mind, and
taking it captive into uncleanness. He got up and began to walk towards the
inhabited regions, walking through the desert by night. Daylight came and he was
still a long way off from any habitation. He began to be overcome by the heat
and felt very tired. He gazed around him in a complete circle, and saw at some
distance what appeared to be a monastery where he might go in and get some
refreshment. And so it was. He was accepted in by some good and faithful
brothers, who treated him as a real father and washed his face and his feet.
They prayed with him, put food before him, and invited him most kindly to
partake of what they were offering him.
After he had eaten, the brothers asked
him for a word of salvation, and what means there were of being able to be safe
from the wiles of the devil, and how to overcome unclean thoughts. Like a father
admonishing his sons, he urged them to be strong and constant in their labors in
order to arrive quickly to a state of being at peace. He discussed many other
aspects of their discipline with them and helped them greatly.
When he had finished he thought for a
while and marveled at how he was giving advice to others without looking to
himself and trying to amend. He acknowledged he was beaten and straightaway went
back to the desert, weeping for himself, and saying, “Unless the Lord had been
my helper my soul had remained in hell. (Pss 94:17). I have almost been overcome
by evil. They have brought me back to earth.” Thus were fulfilled in him the
words, A brother who is helped by a brother is like a city built up on high,
whose wall cannot be breached. (Prov 18:19). Whereas before he used to spend all
his time without doing any physical work, now he was deprived of the bread
provided by the Lord and labored for his daily bread. And when he had shut
himself up in his inner room and covered himself in sackcloth and ashes, he did
not get up from the ground or cease from weeping until he had heard the voice of
the angel saying to him in a dream, The Lord has accepted your repentance and
has had mercy on you. From now on live in such a way that you will not be
deceived. The brothers you gave advice to will come to you and will show the
high opinion they have of you. Accept them, live with them, and give thanks to
God always.
I have told you these things, my sons,
that you may always cultivate humility and be seen to do so in small things as
in great. This was the first of the Savior’s precepts, Blessed are the poor in
spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven (Mt 5:3). And do not be deceived by
the demons, stirring you up with visions and fantasies. If anyone approaches
you, whether brother, friend, woman, father, teacher, mother or sister, first
lift up your hands in prayer. If they are fantasies, they will flee. And if
either demons or human beings would deceive you by agreeing with you and
flattering you, don’t listen to them or get carried away by them. For the demons
would often try to deceive me at night also, preventing me from praying,
disturbing my peace, presenting fantasies to me the whole night through, and
mockingly prostrating themselves in the morning, saying, “Forgive us, abba, for
giving you such hard work all night.” I just say to them, Depart from me, all
you who work evil, do not put the servant of the Lord to the test. (Pss 6:8).
Do likewise, O my sons, seek peace.
Direct your whole self always towards contemplation, begging God that your mind
may be purified. Anyone practicing his faith in the world may also be a good
workman, engaged in doing good, showing humanity and pity, hospitality and
charity, giving alms, blessing those who come to him, helping those in
difficulties and avoiding giving offence to anyone.
Such a person is to be commended, for
he keeps the commandments and gets things done, even while busy with earthly
affairs. But a greater and more excellent thing is to be turned towards
contemplation, given not to action but to thought, leaving to others the
production of material goods. Denying himself he will contemplate heavenly
things, completely forgetful of self, standing before the God of all completely
free and unencumbered, turning away for no other consideration whatsoever.
Someone like this may not yet enjoy God yet turns always towards God in eager
songs of praise.
I know someone in the desert who never
tasted earthly food for a space of ten years. An angel fed him every third day
with heavenly food, placing it directly into his mouth. To him it was as good as
food and drink. I know also that the demons came to this man in the form of
fantasies, showing him heavenly armies, chariots of fire, a crowd of followers,
as if some king were coming, and saying, “You have done all things well and
virtuously, O Man. All you need now is to worship me and I will take you up like
Elias.” But the monk replied, “Daily I worship my King and Savior, but if he
were here now that is not a demand that he would make of me.” From the bottom of
his heart he then cried, “God is my Lord and King whom I ever adore. My king you
are not.” And the vision vanished immediately. Unlike some, he strove to keep
secret his way of life and the things he did. It was the fathers with him who
said that he had seen these things.
These and many other things the blessed
John told us, nourishing our souls up to the ninth hour for three days. And as
he blessed us, bidding us go in peace, he also gave us a prophecy. “It has been
announced today in Alexandria,” he said, “that the most devout Theodosius has
won a victory over the tyrant Eugenius, [in the year 394] who has died his own
well-deserved death”, which came to pass exactly as he had said.
We were also aware of a great number of
monks who were with him in the church, like a great choir of the righteous,
dressed in white robes, glorifying God in fervent psalms. After we saw many
other fathers some brothers came and told us that the blessed John had died a
wonderful death. For he had given orders that no one should visit him for three
days, during which he passed away as he knelt in prayer into the presence of
God, to whom be glory for ever.