Date: 2026-08-15T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Asceticism & Spirituality; Theophan the Recluse; Orthodox spiritual life; Christian asceticism; the path to salvation; repentance and conversion; the Jesus Prayer; Russian Orthodox spirituality; Religion & Spirituality; Christianity / Orthodox; Christianity / Spiritual Growth
Description: The Path to Salvation is Saint Theophan the Recluse's complete map of the Christian life, from its first seed to its full growth. He traces the three ways that life is born in a soul — the grace of Baptism guarded through a Christian upbringing, the turning of a hardened sinner through repentance, and the long ascetic labor that carries a beginner on to maturity — and around this frame gathers the desert Fathers' whole teaching on holy zeal, the war with the passions, the ordering of one's days, and unceasing prayer. It is at once a manual of Orthodox asceticism and a physician's account of ho

The Path to Salvation

Saint Theophan the Recluse

Royal Archives

2026

Copyright

The modern English translation and the cover design are © 2026 Royal Archives. All rights reserved.

The underlying source text is in the public domain.

Published by Royal Archives

First published 2026

Translated by Royal Archives

Source: Путь ко спасению

Cover: Vladimirka (1892) by Isaac Levitan (Russian, 1860–1900), Wikimedia Commons, which is in the public domain.

Edition identifier: urn:royalarchives:put_ko_spaseniju:en:1

Introduction

The Author

Theophan the Recluse was born Georgy Vasilievich Govorov in 1815, in the village of Chernavsk in the Oryol region of central Russia, the son of a parish priest. His whole formation moved along the channels of the Russian Church of his century: the local theological school at Livny, the seminary at Oryol, and finally the Kiev Theological Academy, where he studied from 1837 to 1841 in the shadow of the great Monastery of the Caves. It was there, while still a student, that he received the monastic tonsure and the name Theophan, and was ordained to the priesthood. The pattern of his early career was that of a gifted churchman being moved from post to post—rector of church schools in Kiev, teacher and inspector at seminaries in Novgorod and at the Saint Petersburg Academy, a member of the Russian ecclesiastical mission in Jerusalem, and for a time the priest of the embassy church in Constantinople. Those years of travel in the Christian East brought him into direct contact with the living monastic tradition and with the Greek manuscripts of the ascetic Fathers, an encounter that would shape the whole of his later work.

In 1859 he was consecrated bishop, taking charge first of the diocese of Tambov and, from 1863, of Vladimir. He proved an energetic pastor, founding diocesan schools and preaching widely. But the administrative life was never where his heart lay. In 1866 he asked to be released from the burdens of a ruling bishop and withdrew to the Vysha Hermitage, a quiet monastery in the Tambov region. Six years later, in 1872, he took the further and decisive step that gave him his name in Church history: he entered strict reclusion, sealing himself into a small suite of cells, celebrating the Liturgy alone, and cutting off ordinary company for the remaining twenty-two years of his life.

Reclusion did not mean silence. From behind his closed door Theophan carried on an enormous correspondence with people across Russia who wrote to him for spiritual counsel, and he produced the stream of books that made him one of the most widely read spiritual writers his country ever knew. His single greatest scholarly labor was the translation of the Philokalia—the vast anthology of ascetic and contemplative texts gathered by the Fathers of the Christian East—from Church Slavonic and Greek into a Russian that ordinary literate believers could read. He also translated Symeon the New Theologian and other ascetic masters, wrote a systematic outline of Christian moral teaching, and composed the popular daily readings and letters on the spiritual life that are still reprinted today. His particular gift, remarked on ever since, was the ability to take the compressed and often forbidding wisdom of the desert Fathers and restate it in the plain, searching, psychologically alert prose of a modern pastor. Because he wrote so near to our own age, readers who find the older patristic literature remote often meet in him a guide who seems to be speaking directly to them.

He died at Vysha in early January 1894, having spent the last afternoon of his life, as usual, at his writing desk. His body was found by his cell attendant later that day. Nearly a century afterward, in June 1988, the Russian Orthodox Church numbered him among the saints at the Council held to mark the millennium of the baptism of Rus; he is commemorated on the tenth of January. He is honored in the Orthodox world as a bishop, a recluse, and above all a teacher of the interior life, and his books have found a wide readership well beyond the Church of his birth among Christians of many traditions who look to him for guidance in prayer and repentance.

The Work: Occasion & Purpose

The Path to Salvation grew out of Theophan’s years as a teacher of moral theology. Before his retirement he had lectured on the subject at the Saint Petersburg Academy, and this book represents that course reworked and simplified for a wider public. Its full Russian title announces both its modesty and its ambition: The Path to Salvation: A Brief Outline of Asceticism, offered as a concluding supplement to his earlier Letters on the Christian Life and cast in three divisions. The word “asceticism” should not mislead the modern reader into thinking of something narrowly monastic or severe. Theophan uses it in its old and broad sense: the science of spiritual exercise, the disciplined art of becoming what one was baptized to be. What he set out to write was a single connected account of the entire course a soul travels from its first stirring toward God to its rest in Him—a map of the whole Christian life.

The occasion, in the largest sense, was a conviction Theophan shared with the reforming spirits of his generation: that a great deal of nominal Christianity was in fact spiritually inert, and that the remedy was not more information but a recovered practice. He opens the book by insisting that being called a Christian and belonging to the Church are not yet proof that the Christian life is actually at work in a person. There is, he argues, a real and recognizable beginning to that life, a real growth, and a real maturity, and most people have never been shown clearly what these are or how to move from one to the next. His purpose is intensely practical. He wants each reader to be able to locate himself honestly on the road—to see whether the life of grace has genuinely begun in him, and if it has not, to learn how it can—and then to know the next step. The book is meant to be used, not merely admired: a working guide to be kept at hand and consulted according to where one stands.

Behind this lies Theophan’s larger project, which was in its way a bold one for the academic theology of his day. He wanted to rebuild the whole structure of Christian moral and spiritual teaching on the foundations of patristic asceticism rather than on the borrowed categories of Western textbook divinity. The Path to Salvation is where that program is most fully carried through. It gathers the counsels scattered across the desert Fathers and the ascetic centuries and fits them into one coherent progression, always driving the point home to the conscience of the individual reader actually trying to be saved.

Argument & Structure

The plan of the book is architectural, and everything rests on a single question asked three times: how does the Christian life begin in us, how is it kept once begun, and how is it brought to strength and maturity? Theophan’s answer distinguishes three great gateways through which that life enters and three corresponding movements—conversion to God, purification or self-correction, and sanctification—and the three divisions of the book follow this order.

Part One treats the life that begins in Holy Baptism. Theophan describes the new birth given in the mystery, the seed of grace planted even in an infant, and the whole long work of a Christian upbringing by which that seed is guarded and slowly brought to consciousness. Because infants are baptized before they can consent, the grace given them is at first, as he puts it, present but “not yet their own”; it acts as a forming power until the growing child can freely ratify it. From this he draws a remarkably concrete pedagogy. He walks through the awakening faculties of the child one by one—the body and its needs, the senses and imagination, the reason, the will, the heart—showing at each stage how parents, godparents, and teachers can strengthen the inclination toward God and starve the passions before they take root. The tone is that of a physician of souls describing preventive care: the atmosphere of the Church, frequent communion, the piety of the parents, and steady discipline of appetite and self-will together form the environment in which grace can grow.

Part Two turns to the harder and more common case: those who were baptized but have lost or buried that grace and must be turned again through repentance. Here Theophan writes with unusual psychological precision. He maps the state of a sinner asleep in his sin, the various ways divine grace breaks in to awaken him—some ordinary, some extraordinary—and the interior ascent from that first awakening to a firm resolve to abandon sin and vow oneself to God. He is candid about the illusion of self-sufficiency, the confident assumption that one can lead a good life by one’s own strength, and he shows how that confidence collapses the moment a real passion or temptation is stirred. The movement of conversion is completed not by willpower alone but by grace meeting a freely offered will, and it is sealed and healed in the mysteries of Confession and Communion, to which he devotes careful practical attention.

Part Three, the longest, describes how the Christian life, once truly begun, is carried on toward maturity. This is the properly ascetic heart of the book. Theophan sets out how the “fervor of zeal” for God—the fire he identifies at the outset as the true sign of spiritual life—is to be kindled and kept from going cold; how the powers of soul and body are exercised in the good through vigil, fasting, and the ordering of one’s whole day; how the passions are recognized and resisted; and how the soul climbs, by stages, toward living communion with God. That ascent is crowned in what the tradition calls stillness and unceasing prayer, the warming of the heart in the continual remembrance of God that reaches toward dispassion. To this division he attaches an appendix of counsels from John Chrysostom on the raising of children, echoing the pastoral concern of Part One, and the book closes with the liturgical hymns to Theophan himself.

Two threads run through all three parts and hold them together. The first is the interplay of grace and freedom: at every gateway—baptism, repentance, the daily struggle—Theophan insists that God gives the life freely but requires that a person seek it and willingly receive it, so that the new life is at once wholly a gift and genuinely one’s own. The second is his governing image of zeal as fire. The whole book can be read as an account of how that fire is lit, guarded against the winds that would put it out, and fanned until it fills the entire person.

Theological & Spiritual Significance

The lasting importance of The Path to Salvation lies in its synthesis. Theophan was not an original speculative theologian and never claimed to be; his originality is that of an architect and a translator of experience. He took a tradition of spiritual counsel that had accumulated over more than a thousand years—the desert Fathers, John Climacus on the anatomy of the passions, the hesychast teachers on the prayer of the heart, Diadochus on the working of grace after baptism, Chrysostom on Christian nurture—and he set it in a single, teachable order that an ordinary believer could follow. Before him this wisdom lay scattered across anthologies and hard patristic texts; he made it into a road with signposts.

The book’s most distinctive contribution is its psychological realism. Theophan treats the soul the way a good physician treats the body: he wants an accurate diagnosis before any prescription. He is unusually exact about interior states—the difference between outward correctness and inward life, the mechanics of self-deception, the way a passion gathers force, the precise moment at which grace and the free will meet. This diagnostic patience is what has kept the book alive. Readers return to it less for doctrine than for self-knowledge, finding in it a mirror held up to their own half-hearted attempts at conversion.

It also carries a particular theology of grace worth naming plainly, since it stands close to the center of the whole Christian conversation about how a person is saved. Theophan holds together, without strain, two things that are often set against each other: the absolute priority and necessity of divine grace, and the real, indispensable participation of human freedom. He is severe against the illusion that anyone can begin or sustain the good life by native strength alone, and equally clear that grace does not override the will but waits for its free consent and cooperation. This synergy of grace and freedom, characteristic of the ascetic Fathers he loved, is presented here not as a controversial thesis to be defended but simply as the observed structure of the spiritual life. Christians of different traditions have weighed the balance of grace and freedom in different ways; Theophan’s value is that he shows how the question actually looks from inside the experience of repentance and prayer, where the mystery is lived rather than debated.

Finally, the book stands as one of the great bridges between the monastic and the lay Christian worlds. Its material is drawn overwhelmingly from monastic sources, yet its explicit aim is to make that material usable by “a Christian in any walk of life.” In insisting that the call to holiness and to serious interior labor belongs to everyone and not to monks alone, Theophan gave the Russian spiritual revival of his century one of its foundational texts, and he speaks to a concern that reaches across the whole Christian family.

Reception & Influence

The Path to Salvation became, and has remained, one of the most widely circulated works of Russian spiritual literature. Together with Theophan’s letters, his daily readings, and his Russian Philokalia, it helped carry the ascetic and contemplative tradition of the Christian East out of the monasteries and into the hands of educated lay readers on the eve of a turbulent century. Portions of it have long circulated independently—the sections on Christian upbringing, for instance, have been reissued on their own as a manual for parents, and other parts have reached English readers in partial translations under titles of their own. Theophan’s canonization in 1988 confirmed the standing his writings had already won by use, and among the many Christians outside the Orthodox world who have taken up his books it is often this one, with its plain map of conversion and growth, that serves as the first introduction to his mind.

The Text & This Edition

This edition presents The Path to Salvation in a fresh, modern English translation made directly from Theophan’s Russian. The base text is the public-domain Russian edition of Путь ко спасению as transmitted through the digital text of azbyka.ru, from which the source used for this translation was prepared. The aim throughout has been a readable contemporary English that keeps faith with Theophan’s own voice—his directness, his diagnostic patience, his habit of pressing every point home to the conscience—without the archaisms that can make a nineteenth-century devotional work feel more distant than it is.

A few conventions of this edition deserve mention. Following the practice of the series, the author is named as the Church has always received him, Saint Theophan the Recluse, and those who have brought the text into English are credited as translators, never as authors. Scripture that Theophan quotes is rendered here into plain modern English from his own Russian and Slavonic wording, so that the reader meets each verse as he actually cited and expounded it, rather than in the cadence of any standard English Bible; where his wording departs from a familiar rendering, the difference is his, and it has been preserved. Chapter and section numbers and scriptural citations are given in ordinary modern (Arabic) form for ease of reference. The book’s own three-part architecture has been kept intact, together with the appendix of Chrysostom’s counsels and the closing hymns, so that the reader can follow Theophan’s design exactly as he laid it out.

Suggestions for Reading

The Path to Salvation can be read in either of two ways, and both are faithful to its purpose. It can be read straight through as a single sustained argument, following the soul from the baptismal font, through the crisis of conversion, and up the long climb toward communion with God. Or it can be kept at hand and consulted by its parts, according to where a reader finds himself—a parent turning to the chapters on upbringing, someone at the start of a conversion turning to the second part, a person already in the daily struggle turning to the third.

Two cautions will help a newcomer. First, the book is meant to be taken personally. Theophan is not describing other people’s souls but offering a diagnosis to be applied to one’s own; read as a mirror, it repays patience, and read as mere information, it gives little. Second, its language of warfare, passions, and self-denial belongs to the ancient physician’s vocabulary of the soul and is meant to heal, not to crush. The goal Theophan keeps in view from the first page to the last is not grim exertion but the kindling of a fire—a life so filled with zeal for God that the whole person is set alight. Read it, as he meant it, as a path to be walked.

Part 1. On the Beginning of the Christian Life through Holy Baptism, with an Indication of How to Preserve This Grace during the Years of Upbringing

How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

We must clarify for ourselves when and how true Christian life begins, so that we can see whether the beginning of such a life has been laid in us, and if it has not been laid, know how to lay it, to the extent that depends on us. It is not yet a decisive sign of true life in Christ if someone is called a Christian and belongs to the Church of Christ. “Not everyone who says to Me, Lord, Lord, will enter the Kingdom” (Mt. 7:21). And “not all who are of Israel are Israel” (Rom. 9:6). One can be among Christians and not be a Christian. Everyone knows this.

There is a moment, and a very noticeable moment, clearly marked in the course of our life, when someone begins to live as a Christian. This is the moment when the distinctive characteristics of Christian life begin to show themselves in that person. Christian life is zeal and power to abide in communion with God, active, through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, with the help of God’s grace, by fulfilling His holy will, for the glory of His most holy name. The essence of Christian life consists in communion with God in Christ Jesus our Lord—in communion that is at first usually hidden not only from others but from oneself. The visible or inwardly felt witness to it is the fervor of active zeal, exclusively for Christian pleasing of God, with complete self-denial and hatred of all that opposes it. Thus, when this fervor of zeal begins, the beginning of Christian life is laid; and whoever keeps it constantly active lives as a Christian.

We must stop and dwell a little longer on this distinctive characteristic.

“I have come to cast fire on the earth”, says the Savior, “and how I wish that it were already kindled” (Lk. 12:49). He says this of Christian life, and He says it because the visible witness to it is zeal for pleasing God, kindled in the heart by the Spirit of God, which is like fire, for just as fire consumes the substance in which it is implanted, so zeal for life in Christ consumes the soul that has received it. And just as during a fire flames engulf an entire building, so too the kindled fire of zeal embraces and fills the entire being of a person.

In another place the Lord says: “Everyone will be salted with fire” (Mk. 9:49). This is a reference to the fire of the spirit, zeal penetrating all our being. Just as salt, penetrating perishable matter, preserves it from decay, so too the spirit of zeal, penetrating all our being, drives out sin, which corrupts our nature both in soul and body, from even the smallest corners and hiding places, and thus saves us from moral corruption and decay.

Apostle Paul commands: “Do not quench the Spirit” (1 Thess. 5:19), to be “diligent and not lazy, fervent in spirit” (Rom. 12:11)—he commands this to all Christians, so that they remember that fervor of the spirit, or diligent zeal, is an inseparable property of Christian life. Elsewhere he speaks of himself: “Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:13–14); and he urges others: “Run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Cor. 9:24). Thus in Christian life, as a consequence of zealous fervor, there is a certain swiftness and spiritual liveliness with which good works are undertaken, trampling self and willingly offering to God all kinds of labor without sparing oneself.

On this understanding, one can easily conclude that cold performance of Church rules, like the regularity in works established by calculating reason, propriety, orderliness, and honesty in conduct, are not yet decisive signs that true Christian life is working in us. All this is good, but as soon as it does not bear the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, it has no value before God. Works of this kind are like lifeless idols. And a good clock runs correctly, but who would say that there is life in it? So too here: often people only have the “name that they are alive”, while actually being “dead” (cf. Rev. 3:1). This propriety of conduct is most apt to lead into delusion. Its true significance depends on inward dispositions, in which there can be significant deviations from essential truth even in outwardly right deeds. As one can refrain outwardly from sinful deeds yet harbor fondness for them or secret pleasure in the heart, so too one can do outwardly right deeds yet not have heartfelt inclination toward them. Only true zeal both wants to accomplish good in all fullness and purity, and pursues sin to its smallest shades. It seeks the former as essential bread, treats the latter as a mortal enemy. A man hates his enemy not only in his own person but hates his relatives and acquaintances, even his things, his favorite colors—everything that somehow reminds him of the enemy. So too is it with zeal for true pleasing of God: it pursues sin in even the smallest reminders or hints of it, for it is zealous for complete purity. Without this, how much uncleanness could lodge in the heart!

What success can be expected when there is no forceful zeal for Christian pleasing of God? In what there is no effort, there will still be some performance; but as soon as intensified effort or some self-sacrifice is required—refusal immediately follows, from the impossibility of mastering oneself. For then there is nothing to lean on to move oneself to good action; self-pity will undermine all supports. If some other motivation mixes in besides the one indicated, it will make even a good deed into a bad one. The Israelite spies under Moses were afraid because they pitied themselves. Martyrs went willingly to death because they were burned by the inner fire. A true zealot not only does what is commanded but also the counsels and every good inspiration secretly imprinted on the soul; he does not only what appears required but is inventive in doing good, wholly occupied with one enduring, true, eternal good. “Everywhere we need,” says Saint John Chrysostom, “diligence and much enkindling of the soul, ready to array itself against death itself; for otherwise it is impossible to receive the Kingdom” (Homily 31 on Acts).

The work of piety and communion with God is a work of great labor and much pain, especially at first. Where can one find strength to undertake all these labors? Through the help of God’s grace, inspired by zeal. The merchant, the soldier, the judge, the scholar labor in demanding and difficult service. What sustains them in their labors? Enthusiasm and love for their work. No other thing can sustain one on the path of piety. Without it we will find servitude to God to be weariness, heaviness, tedium, sluggishness. A tortoise moves, but with difficulty, whereas for a swift doe or nimble squirrel, motion and movement are a delight. Zealous pleasing of God is a joyful, spirit-lifting journey to God. Without it everything can be ruined. One must do everything for God’s glory, in defiance of the sin living in us; without this we will do everything only from habit, from the demands of propriety, because it has been done this way long ago and so others do it. One must do everything; otherwise we will do some things and not others, without any contrition or even memory of what we have omitted. One must do everything with attention and care, as the main work; otherwise we will do things as they happen.

Thus, it is clear that without zeal a Christian is a poor Christian—lukewarm, weak, lifeless, neither hot nor cold—and such a life is not life. Knowing this, let us strive to show ourselves as true zealots of good works, so as to be truly pleasing to God, having no blemish or fault or anything of that kind.

Thus, the true sign of Christian life is the fire of active zeal for pleasing God. The question now arises: how is this fire kindled? Who produces it?

Such zeal is produced by the action of grace, yet not without the participation of our free will. Christian life is not a natural life. Its beginning, or first awakening, must be likewise. As in a seed plant life awakens when moisture and warmth penetrate the hidden germ within, and through them the life-giving force of all restoration, so too in us Divine life awakens when the Spirit of God penetrates the heart and lays there the beginning of life according to the spirit, cleanses and gathers into unity the darkened and broken features of the image of God. Desire awakens and free seeking (by outward action); then grace descends (through the Mysteries) and, joined with freedom, generates mighty zeal. Let no one think to generate such a force of life by himself: one must pray for it and be ready to receive it. The fire of zeal with power—this is the grace of the Lord. The Spirit of God, descending into the heart, begins to act in it not with consuming zeal only, but with all-working zeal.

Some think to themselves: why is this action of grace needed? Can we not do good deeds ourselves? We have done this and that good deed. We will live and do something more. Few, perhaps, have not stopped at this question. Some say we cannot do any good by ourselves. But here the matter is not about individual good deeds, but about transformation of the entire life, about a new life, about life in its totality—such a life as leads to salvation. It is easy to do something good by chance, even something very good, as the pagans also did. But let someone deliberately determine himself to unceasing good works, determine their order according to the direction of God’s word—and this not for one month or year, but for the whole of life—and decide to abide unchangingly in this order, and then, when he has remained faithful to it, let him boast of his strength; but without that, is it not better to keep silent? How many and how often have there been attempts at self-made initiation and ordering of Christian life? And all of them have ended and do end in nothing. A person stands a little while in the newly chosen order—and abandons it. How could it be otherwise? There is no strength. Only the eternal power of God is suited to keep us unchanged in our disposition amid the ceaseless waves of temporal changes. Therefore, one must be filled with this power, seek it out and receive it in due manner—and it will lift us up and draw us out from this turmoil of the temporal.

Turn again to experience and see when thoughts of self-sufficiency arise. When a person is in a peaceful state, when nothing disturbs him, nothing tempts or draws him to sin, then he is ready for the most holy and pure life. But as soon as a passion stirs or temptation comes—where are all the vows? Does not a person often say to himself, living an intemperate life: now I will not do this anymore? But once the appetite for the passion is sated, a new urge arises, and he appears in sin again. It is easy to discourse about bearing injuries when everything goes according to our will, not contrary to self-love. Here it might seem strange that one feels offense or resentment, to which others give way. But if one were in such a position oneself, then not just a word but even a look would provoke an outburst. One can thus in self-confidence dream of the possibility of leading a Christian life by oneself, without higher help, when the spirit is calm. But when the evil lying at the bottom of the heart is stirred up like dust by the wind, each will find in personal experience the condemnation of his arrogance. When thought after thought, desire after desire—each worse than the last—begin to trouble the soul, everyone will forget himself and involuntarily cry out with the prophet: “Waters have risen to my soul; I have become mired in the deep mud” (Ps. 68:2–3). “O Lord, save me! O Lord, come quickly!” (Ps. 117:25).

Is it not often the case that someone dreams in self-assurance of abiding in good? But then an image appears or a thing comes to mind, desire is born, passion is aroused; the person is carried away and falls. After this one should only look at oneself and say: how bad this is! But then a chance for distraction appears, and one is ready to forget himself again. Further, someone offended: argument begins, reproaches, judgment; an unjust but advantageous deal is presented—and one takes it up too: one person was humiliated, another shared with, a third was displaced from his place—and all this after boasting of the ability to conduct oneself holily without special help from above. Where then is the strength? “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Mt. 26:41). You see good and do evil: “When I want to do good, evil is at hand” (Rom. 7:21). We are captives: ransom us, Lord!

One of the first enemy attacks on us is the thought of self-assurance, that is, if not a rejection of the need for grace’s help, then not feeling such a need. The enemy speaks, as it were, thus: “Do not go there—to the light, where they want to give you some new powers! You are fine with me.” And the person gives himself over to ease. Meanwhile the enemy—here throws a stone (troubles), there leads one onto slippery ground (the allurements of passion), here scatters flowers over hidden snares (pleasant circumstances). Not looking about, the person rushes ever further and further, not realizing that he is descending ever lower and lower, until finally he reaches the very bottom of evil—to the very threshold of hell. Is it not necessary in such a case to cry out to him as to the first Adam: “Man, where are you? Where have you gone?” This very cry is the action of grace, which makes the sinner for the first time look at himself.

Thus, if you desire to begin living as a Christian, seek grace. The moment when grace descends and unites with your will will be the moment of the birth of strong, firm, fruitful Christian life.

Where can one find and how can one receive grace that begins life? The acquisition of grace and the sanctification of our nature by it is accomplished in the Mysteries. Here we present ourselves to God’s action, or we offer God our worthless nature—and He by His action transforms it. It pleased God, to strike at our proud intellect, at the very beginning of true life to hide His power under the veil of simple matter. How this happens, we do not comprehend, but the experience of all Christendom testifies that it does not happen otherwise.

There are two Mysteries that relate especially to the beginning of Christian life: baptism and repentance. Therefore the rules concerning the beginning of true Christian life are gathered, some around baptism, and others around repentance.

How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Baptism is the first Mystery in Christianity that makes a person a Christian worthy to receive the gifts of grace and through other Mysteries. Without it one cannot enter the Christian world—become a member of the Church. The Eternal Wisdom created a house for herself on earth: the door leading into this house is the Mystery of baptism. Through this door one not only enters the house of God, but at it one is also clothed in worthy garb, receives a new name and a sign imprinted on the entire being of the baptized person, by which both the heavenly and the earthly come to know and distinguish him.

“If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation”, teaches the Apostle (2 Cor. 5:17). In baptism the Christian becomes this new creation. From the baptismal pool one comes out a completely different person than the one who went in. As light to darkness, as life to death, so the baptized is the opposite of the unbaptized. Begotten in lawlessness and born in sins, a person before baptism carries in himself all the poison of sin, with all the burden of its consequences. He stands under God’s displeasure, is by nature a child of wrath; he is corrupted, disordered in himself, in the relationship of his parts and powers and in their direction especially toward multiplying sin; he is subject to Satan’s influence, who acts in him powerfully because of the sin living in him. As a result of all this, after death, he is inevitably a subject of hell, where he must suffer together with his prince and his cohorts and servants.

Baptism delivers us from all these evils. It removes the curse by the power of the Cross of Christ and returns the blessing: the baptized are God’s children, as the Lord Himself gave them the capacity to be named and to be called. “And if children, then heirs, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ” (Rom. 8:17). The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to the one being baptized already by baptism itself. He is taken from under Satan’s dominion, who now loses his power over him and the ability to act in him at will. By entering the Church—a house of refuge—Satan’s approaches to the newly baptized are barred. He is here as in a safe enclosure.

All this—spiritual-external advantages and gifts. What happens within?—Healing of sin’s sickness and corruption. The power of grace penetrates within and restores here the Divine order in all its beauty, heals the disorder both in the composition and relationship of powers and parts, and in the chief direction from self to God—toward pleasing God and the increase of good works. This is why baptism is rebirth or new birth, placing a person in a renewed state. Apostle Paul compares all the baptized to the risen Savior, giving us to understand that they too have such a bright transformedness of being as appeared in the humanity of the Lord Jesus through His resurrection in glory (see Rom. 6:4). That the direction of activity in the baptized is also changed is evident from the words of the same Apostle, who says in another place that they “no longer live for themselves, but for the one who died for them and was raised” (2 Cor. 5:15). “The one who died has been freed from sin once for all; the one who is alive lives to God” (Rom. 6:10). “We were buried with Him through baptism into death” (Rom. 6:4), and: “Our old self was crucified with Him… so that we should no longer be enslaved to sin” (Rom. 6:6). Thus by the power of baptism all of a person’s activity is turned from himself and sin toward God and righteousness.

Remarkable is the Apostle’s word: “we should no longer be enslaved to sin” and the other: “sin shall not have dominion over you” (Rom. 6:14). This makes clear to us that what in our corrupted, fallen nature constitutes the force drawing toward sin is not destroyed utterly in baptism, but only placed in such a state in which it has no power over us, does not dominate us, and we do not serve it. It remains in us, lives and acts, only not as a master. Dominion from this point onward belongs to God’s grace and to the spirit, consciously surrendering itself to grace. Saint Diadoch, explaining the power of baptism, says that before baptism sin lives in the heart and grace acts from outside; but after this grace dwells in the heart and sin pulls from outside. It is driven out of the heart like an enemy from a stronghold and takes up residence outside, in the parts of the body, from where it acts in fragments with attacks. Hence it is an unceasing tempter, seducer, but no longer a master: it troubles and disturbs, but does not command.

Thus a new life is born in baptism! What is required from the human side for this, or how one comes to be renewed in baptism, is depicted in the “Outline of Christian Moral Teaching,” especially in the article “The Norm of Christian Life.” It is not repeated here because the youth coming to baptism is the same as a sinner who has turned to God in repentance; and about the latter, a lengthy discussion will follow ahead in the second section. Then the full satisfaction of everyone’s desire to know about this matter will be given.

Here attention is directed to how Christian life begins through baptism in those who are baptized as infants, as happens chiefly among us. For here the beginning of Christian life is arranged with a certain characteristic feature flowing from the relationship of grace to freedom.

You already know that grace descends on free desire and seeking, and that only by their mutual union is a new gracious life in harmony with grace and with the nature of a free creature conceived. The Lord gives grace freely, but requires that a person seek it and willingly receive it, dedicating himself entirely to God. The fulfillment of this condition is evident in the repentance and baptism of those of adult age. But how is it fulfilled in the baptism of infants? An infant has no use of reason and freedom, consequently cannot fulfill the condition for the beginning of Christian life from his side, that is, the desire to dedicate himself to God. Meanwhile this condition must necessarily be fulfilled. The way in which this condition is fulfilled results in the beginning of life through the baptism of infants being accomplished with a certain characteristic feature. Namely.

Grace descends on the infant soul and produces in it everything alone, as if freedom were participating in it, on the sole ground that in the future, this one who does not know himself and does not act personally, the infant, when he comes to consciousness, will himself willingly dedicate himself to God, will willingly receive grace, finding in himself its action, will be glad that it is, will give thanks that this was done for him, and will confess that if at the moment of baptism he had been given reason and freedom, he would not have acted otherwise than as it was acted, and would not have wanted anything else. For the sake of such future free dedication of himself to God and union of freedom with grace, Divine grace is entirely given to the infant and without him does everything in him that is proper for her to do, on the sole confidence that the required desire and self-dedication to God will surely come—a confidence which the sponsors give, vouching to God before the Church that this infant, when he comes to consciousness, will indeed show such an exercise of freedom as is required for grace, taking upon themselves the obligation by actual deeds to lead the infant they receive to that point.

Thus through baptism in the infant is laid the seed of life in Christ and it is in him; but it is still as if not his own, it acts as a forming power. The spiritual life, born by the grace of baptism in the infant, will become his own, will appear in its full form, in harmony not only with grace but with the nature of a rational creature, from the time when he, awakening to consciousness, by free will dedicates himself to God and by willing, joyful, and thankful reception assimilates to himself the gracious power found in himself. And until this time true Christian life acts in him, but as if without his knowledge, acts in him, yet is still as if not his own; from the moment of consciousness and choice it becomes his own, not gracious only, but also free.

Because of this, more or less prolonged, interval between baptism and dedication of oneself to God, the beginning of Christian moral life through the grace of baptism in infants is, so to speak, extended over an indefinite span of time, during which the infant matures and is formed into a Christian in the Holy Church amid Christians, just as previously he was physically formed in his mother’s womb.

Hold firm to this idea, reader. We will greatly need it when determining how parents, sponsors, and educators should deal with the baptized infant entrusted to them by the Holy Church and the Lord.

It is obvious that after an infant’s baptism a most important work lies before the parents and sponsors: to guide the baptized one so that he, when he comes to consciousness, becomes aware of the gracious powers in himself, receives them with joyful desire, as well as the obligations bound up with them and the way of life they require. This places him face to face with the question of Christian upbringing or upbringing in accordance with the demands of baptismal grace, for the purpose of preserving this grace.

To make clearer how one should deal with a baptized infant in the stated purposes, one must call to mind the thought expressed earlier, that grace overshadows the heart and dwells in it when there is in it a turning from sin and from self to God. For the sake of this disposition, actively shown, all other gifts of grace are given, and all advantages of those graced: God’s favor, joint heirship with Christ, setting outside the domain of Satan, outside the danger of being condemned to hell. But as soon as this disposition of mind and heart diminishes or is lost, sin immediately begins again to dominate the heart, and through sin the bonds of Satan are laid and God’s favor and fellowship with Christ are taken away. Grace in the infant subdues and stifles sin; but it can come alive again and rise up if given food and freedom. Thus all attention of those on whom lies the obligation to guard in wholeness the child-Christian taken from the baptismal pool should be directed to preventing sin from gaining dominion over him again, by all means to suppress this latter and weaken it, while strengthening the direction toward God. It is necessary to make such a disposition in the growing Christian grow, though under external guidance, yet by his own activity, so that more and more he becomes accustomed to prevailing over sin and overcoming it for pleasing God, becomes accustomed to using the powers of spirit and body in such a way that this is not slavery to sin but service to God. That this is possible is evident from the fact that the one born and baptized is wholly—a seed of the future or earth filled with seeds. The new disposition infused by baptismal grace is not merely a thought or imputed, but actual, that is, it is likewise a seed of life. If all seeds in general develop according to their kind, then the seed of gracious life in the baptized can also develop. If in him is laid the seed of a turning toward God that prevails over sin, then it can likewise be developed and nurtured as other seeds are. One need only employ effective means for this or determine a purposeful way to act on the baptized infant.

The goal to which all should be directed consists in this: that this new person, when he comes to consciousness, becomes aware of himself not only as a rational being with free will, but also as one who has entered into an obligation with the Lord, with whom his eternal fate is indissolubly linked; not only to become aware of this but to find in himself the capacity to act in accordance with this obligation and to see in himself a predominant inclination toward that. The question arises: how is this to be achieved? How should one treat a baptized person so that, when he grows up, he desires nothing more than to be a true Christian? Or—how should one educate him Christianly?

In answer to this we do not undertake to examine everything in detail. We will limit ourselves to a general overview of the whole work of Christian education, aiming to indicate how in each case to support and strengthen the good aspect in children and how to weaken and suppress the bad.

Here first of all attention is focused on the infant in the cradle, before any abilities awaken in him. The infant is alive, consequently one can influence his life. Here the Holy Mysteries are applicable, and with them all that is of the Church; and with them also the faith and piety of the parents.

All this, taken together, will constitute a saving atmosphere around the infant. By all this, mysteriously, gracious life is overshadowed, the life conceived in the infant.

Frequent communion in the Holy Mysteries of Christ (one may add: as frequently as possible) vividly and actively unites with the Lord this new member of His, through His most pure Body and Blood, sanctifies him, establishes peace in him, and makes him inaccessible to the dark powers.

Those who proceed in this way notice that on the day when the child takes communion, he is immersed in deep peace, without strong movements of all natural needs, even those which act more powerfully in children. Sometimes he is filled with joy and the playing of the spirit, in which he is ready to embrace everyone as his own. Not rarely does holy communion bring with it miracles. Saint Andrew of Crete did not speak for a long time in childhood. When his sorrowing parents turned to prayer and gracious means, then during communion the Lord by His grace loosed the bonds of his tongue, after which he refreshed the Church with streams of sweet speech and wisdom. One doctor testified from his observations that in most childhood illnesses one should bring children to holy communion, and very rarely had need to employ medical aids afterward.

Great influence is had on children by frequent attendance at church, making prostrations to the holy cross, the Gospel, icons, being covered by the altar cloths; also at home—frequently taking them before the icons, frequently making the sign of the cross over them, sprinkling them with holy water, censing with incense, making the sign of the cross over the cradle, the food, and everything touching them, the blessing of the priest, bringing icons from church into homes and services; in general—all that is of the Church in a wondrous way kindles and nourishes the gracious life of the child, and is always the safest and most impenetrable barrier against the attacks of the invisible dark powers, who are everywhere ready to penetrate the only developing soul, to infect it with their breath.

Under this visible protection is an invisible one: the Guardian Angel, appointed by the Lord to the infant from the very moment of baptism. He keeps watch over him, by his presence invisibly influences him, and in necessary cases inspires the parents as to what must be done with the child in extremity.

But all these so strong barriers, these powerful and actual influences can be destroyed and robbed of their fruit by unbelief, negligence, impiety, and the bad life of the parents. This is already so because with these the means are either not employed or employed not as they should be; but especially by the inward influence. It is true that the Lord is merciful, especially toward the innocent, but there is an incomprehensible connection between the soul of the parents and the souls of the children, and we cannot determine the extent to which the influence of the former extends to the latter; and likewise, to what extent, under the infectious influence of the former, the mercy and condescension of God extend to the latter. It happens that this ceases, and then the causes prepared bring forth their fruit. Therefore the spirit of faith and piety of the parents should be regarded as the most powerful means for the preservation, upbringing, and strengthening of gracious life in children.

The spirit of the infant has, as it were, no movement in the first days, months, and even years. There is no way to transmit something to him for his understanding by the usual path. But one can act on him indirectly.

There is a certain special path of communion between souls through the heart. One spirit influences another through feeling. Such influence on the soul of an infant is the easier, the more fully and deeply the parents are turned with their hearts toward the infant. Father and mother disappear in the child and, as they say, lose their mind over him. And if their spirit is permeated with piety, it cannot be but that it acts according to its own nature on the soul of the child. The best outward conductor for this is the look. While in other senses the soul remains hidden, the eye reveals it to the gaze of another. This is the point where one soul meets another. Let then through this opening pass to the soul of the child the souls of mother and father with holy feelings. They cannot fail to anoint it with this holy oil. It is necessary that in their gaze there shine not only love, which is so natural, but also faith, that in their arms is more than a simple child, and hope that He who gave them this treasure to watch over, as a kind of vessel of grace, will grant them sufficient strength for that, to preserve it, and finally, prayer continuously performed in the spirit, aroused by hope through faith.

When parents thus fence the cradle of their child with this spirit of sincere piety, when with this, on the one hand, the Guardian Angel, on the other—the Holy Mysteries and all that is of the Church will act on him from without and within, then there will be formed around the beginning life a spiritual atmosphere akin to it, which will transfuse into it its own character, just as blood, the source of animal life, in its properties depends greatly on the surrounding air. It is said that a newly made vessel for a long time, if not always, retains the smell of the substance poured into it at that time. The same should be said of the arrangement shown around children. It graciously and salvationally penetrates the establishing forms of the child’s life and will place its seal upon them. Here is also an impassable barrier to the influence of the spirits of wickedness.

Having begun such an arrangement from the cradle, one must continue it then throughout the whole time of upbringing: both in childhood, infancy, and youth. The Church, all that is of the Church, and the Holy Mysteries—as a tabernacle for children, under which they should remain constantly. Examples show how salutary and fruitful this is—Samuel, Theodore of Sykeon (April 22), and others. Even by this alone can all means of upbringing be replaced, as they are successfully replaced, ancient methods of education consisted chiefly in this.

When the child’s abilities begin to awaken, one after another, parents and educators must redouble their attention. For when, under the overshadowing of the means indicated, the inclination toward God will grow and strengthen in them and draw the powers after itself, at the very same time the sin living in them does not slumber, but strives to seize those same powers. The inevitable result of this—an inner warfare. Since children are not capable of waging it themselves, parents reasonably take their place. But since it must still be waged by the powers of the children, parents must strictly watch the first stirrings of their awakening, so as from the first moment to give them an inclination in harmony with the main goal toward which they should be directed.

Thus warfare begins for the parents with sin living in the child. Though this sin lacks a firm foothold, it nonetheless acts and, to establish itself on something firm, tries to seize the powers of body and soul. One must not allow this and must, as it were, snatch the powers from the hands of sin and give them to God. But in order to act in this not without foundation, but with rational knowledge of the truth of the chosen way, one must understand well what the remaining sin seeks, what it feeds on, through what exactly it seizes us. The primary instigators drawing toward sin are presumption (or inquisitiveness) in the mind, willfulness in the will, self-indulgence in feeling. Therefore one must direct and guide the developing powers of soul and body so as not to give them into captivity to carnal pleasure, inquisitiveness, willfulness, and self-indulgence—for this will be captivity to sin—but on the contrary, teach them to detach themselves from these and to prevail over them, and thus, as much as possible, to weaken them and bring them to harmlessness. This is the principal rule. All upbringing must be conformed to it afterward. Let us review with this aim the principal actions of body, soul, and spirit.

Above all, the needs of the body awaken first and then remain in constant activity until death itself. For this very reason they must be placed within proper limits and secured by habit, so that later there will be less disturbance from them. In terms of the bodily life, nutrition is the most essential function. In a moral sense, it is the dwelling place of a passion for sinful gratification of the flesh, or the field for its development and nourishment. Therefore, one must nourish a child in such a way that, while developing bodily life and providing it with strength and health, one does not inflame sensual pleasure in the soul. One should not think that because the child is small, instruction can wait—from the very first years one must begin to restrain the flesh, which is inclined toward gross matter, and accustom the child to master it, so that in childhood, youth, and afterward one can easily and freely manage this need. The first leaven is very precious. Much depends on how a child is nourished for all that comes later. Almost imperceptibly one can develop gluttony and intemperance in food—two forms of bodily excess, these harmful inclinations that attach themselves to eating.

For this reason even doctors and educators advise: choose healthy and suitable food, judging by the age of the child being educated; for one food is appropriate for an infant, another for a child, still another for a youth, and yet another for a young man; subject the consumption to known rules (again adapted to age), in which the time, quantity, and manner of eating are determined, and then do not depart without good reason from the order established in this way.

By this a child becomes accustomed not to always demand food whenever he wishes to eat, but to wait for the appointed hour; here are the first trials of practice in denying oneself one’s own desires. Where a child is fed every time he cries, and then every time he asks for food, there he is so weakened that later he cannot refuse food without suffering. Along with this he becomes accustomed to willfulness, because he succeeds in begging for or crying out everything he wants. One must subject sleep, warmth and cold, and other comforts, which are naturally necessary in the matter of nourishment, to the same measure, keeping unwaveringly in mind—not to inflame passion for sensual pleasures and to train self-denial. This must be strictly observed throughout the time of upbringing—changing, as is self-evident, the rules in application, not in essence—until such time as the child, having become established in them, takes himself in hand.

The second function of the body is movement; its organ is the muscles, in which lie the strength and vigor of the body—the instruments of labor. In relation to the soul it is the seat of will, and is very capable of developing willfulness. Measured, judicious development of this function, communicating vigor and liveliness to the body, trains one to labor and forms moderation. On the contrary, perverse development, left to its own devices, in some develops immoderate vivacity and scattering of attention, in others—sluggishness, lifelessness, sloth. The first confirms and turns into law willfulness and disobedience, along with which are found insolence, hot-temperedness, and lack of restraint in desires. The latter plunges one into the flesh and delivers one over to sensual pleasures. So one must have in view, while strengthening the body’s powers, not to inflate willfulness through them and for the sake of the flesh not to destroy the spirit. For this, the main thing is measure, prescription, oversight. Let the child be lively, but at the time, in the place, and in the manner prescribed to him. The will of parents must stamp every step they take, reasonably speaking, in general. Without this, the character of a child can easily become twisted. Having played about on its own, a child always returns without readiness to obey even in small matters. And this happens after one instance; what then when this part is completely neglected? How difficult it is afterward to destroy willfulness, once it has settled in the body as in a fortress. The neck does not bend, the arm and leg do not move, and even the eye does not wish to look as commanded. On the contrary, a child becomes ready for every command, where from the beginning its movements were not given free rein. Besides this, there is no better way to become accustomed to ruling one’s own body than by making it exert itself according to one’s direction.

The third bodily function lies in the nerves. From the nerves come the senses—the instruments of observation and food for curiosity. But we will speak of that later. Now, regarding another general function of the nerves, as the seat of bodily sensitivity, or the capacity to receive pleasant and unpleasant external impressions. In this regard, one must establish as a rule to accustom the body to endure painlessly all kinds of external influences: from the air, water, changes of temperature, dampness, heat, cold, wounds, pain, and so forth. Whoever has acquired such a habit is the happiest of people, capable of the most difficult deeds, at any time and in any place. The soul in such a person appears as the full master of the body, does not delay, does not change, does not abandon tasks, fearing bodily unpleasantness; rather, with some desire it turns to that which can embitter the body. This is very important. The main evil in relation to the body is its coddling and pampering. It takes away all power of the soul over the body and makes the latter the slave of the former; on the contrary, he who does not pamper his body will not be troubled in his undertakings by fear from blind animal self-love. How blessed is one trained to this from childhood! Medical advice concerning bathing, the time and place of walks, and clothing applies here; the main thing is to maintain the body not so that it receives only pleasant impressions, but rather to maintain it under discomfiting impressions. With the former the body is softened, with the latter it is strengthened; with the former the child fears everything, and with the latter is ready for everything and able to endure patiently in what is undertaken.

Such treatment of the body is prescribed by pedagogy. Here it is shown only how these counsels are also fitting for the development of Christian life, namely in that zealous fulfillment of them shuts the door to the soul against the wicked poison of sensual pleasures, willfulness, bodily love or self-pity, creates opposite dispositions, and in general trains one to rule the body as an instrument and not to submit to it. This is very important in Christian life, which by its very nature is detached from sensuality and every indulgence of the flesh. So one must not leave the development of a child’s body to chance, but must keep it under strict discipline from the very beginning, so as then to hand it over to the pupil himself already adapted to Christian life, and not hostile to it. True parents who are Christians and who love their children should not spare anything, not even their own parental heart, to bestow this good upon their children. For otherwise all their subsequent acts of love and care will be either little fruitful or even barren. The body is the seat of passions, and for the most part of the fiercest of them, such as lust and anger. It is also the instrument through which demons penetrate into the soul or settle near it. It is self-evident that in all this one must not lose sight of churchliness, and from it one must do nothing by which one would touch the body, for by this the body will be sanctified and wild animality will be subdued.

Not everything is written here, and only the main tone of action on the body is indicated. The details will be shown by experience, for those who need them. By this outline it is also understood how one must treat the body at all other times of life: for we have to do with it only as one.

Along with the manifestation of bodily needs, in the soul too the lower faculties do not delay in showing themselves in their natural sequence. Here the child begins to fix his gaze on this or that object, on one more than on another, as if he likes one more and another less. These are the first beginnings of the use of the senses, which are at once followed by the awakening of the activity of imagination and memory. These faculties stand at the transition from bodily activity to spiritual activity and act together, so that what is done by one is at once transmitted to the other. Judging by the importance which they have in our life at the present time, how good and salutary it is to sanctify the first beginnings of their activity with objects from the realm of faith. First impressions remain deeply memorable. One must remember that the soul comes into the world as a bare faculty; it grows, becomes enriched in inner content, and becomes varied in activity only afterward. The first material, the first food for its formation, it receives from without, from the senses, through imagination. It is self-evident what character the first objects of the senses and imagination must have, so that they not only do not hinder, but even more facilitate the forming Christian life. For it is known that, as the first food has considerable influence on the temperament of the body, so the first objects with which the soul occupies itself have a strong influence on the character of the soul or the tone of its life.

The developing senses provide material for imagination; the imagined object is preserved in memory and constitutes, so to speak, the content of the soul. Let the senses receive their first impressions from sacred objects: an icon and the light of a lamp for the eyes, sacred songs for the ear, and so forth. The child does not yet understand anything of what is before his eyes, but his eyes and ears become accustomed to these objects, and they, preoccupying the heart, thereby set other objects at a distance. Following the senses, the first exercises of imagination will also be sacred; it will be easier for him to imagine these objects than others: such are his first bends. Then, for the future, the beautiful, which on one side is essentially connected with the forms of the senses and imagination, will attract him only under sacred forms.

So let them surround a child with sacred objects of all kinds; everything that can corrupt through examples, images, things—they remove. But then throughout all subsequent time one must preserve the same order. It is known how powerfully corrupted images act on the soul, in whatever form they touch it! How unhappy is the child who, closing his eyes or remaining alone and absorbed in himself, is overwhelmed by a multitude of wicked images, vain, seductive, breathing with passions. This is the same for the soul as smoke for the head.

One must also not lose sight of the manner of activity of these faculties. The function of the senses is to see, hear, touch, in general to test and investigate. Therefore they are the first awakeners of curiosity, which then on account of them passes into imagination and memory and, having acquired stability in them, becomes an irresistible tyrant for the soul. It is impossible not to use the senses: for only through them are things known which must be known for the glory of God and our good. But with this inevitably comes curiosity, which is an irresistible tendency—without aim to see and hear what is being done and how things happen. How then should one proceed? Investigation is already, necessarily, curiosity. Curiosity consists in trying to learn everything in disorder, without aim, without distinguishing whether it is necessary or not. So one must only observe measure and order in the exercise of the senses, and direct them to what is necessary and according to necessity—then curiosity will have no food; that is, one must accustom the child to investigate what is considered necessary for him; from everything else he must refrain and keep away. Then in the very act of investigation, one must observe gradualness—not to jump from object to object, or from one feature to another, but, examining one after another, to be concerned that afterward the object be imagined as it should be. This kind of occupation will preserve the child from the habit of becoming distracted even amid what is allowed, will train him to master the senses, and through them imagination. He will not jump from one thing to another without need, consequently will not daydream and become distracted by images and thus prevent the soul from resting, troubling it with the flux and reflux of his disorderly visions. He who cannot master his senses and imagination is necessarily scattered and inconstant, being tormented by curiosity, which will chase him from one object to another until his powers are exhausted, and all this without fruit.

At the same time with these faculties, passions arise in the child and begin to trouble him from an early age. The child does not yet speak, does not yet walk, has only just become accustomed to sit and take toys, but already gets angry, envies, claims things as his own, acts pretentious and so forth, in general shows the action of passions. This evil, based on animal life, is destructive; therefore one must oppose it from its first manifestations. How to do this is difficult to determine. Everything depends on the prudence of the parents. One may, however, establish the following: 1) prevent their arising in every way; 2) then, if some passion manifests, one must hasten to extinguish it with devised and tried means. By this their rooting will be prevented, or predisposition to them. The passion that manifests more frequently than others must be treated with special attention, because it can be the ruling disposer of life. The most reliable way of treating passions is the use of grace-filled means. To them with faith one must turn. Passion is a spiritual phenomenon, meanwhile parents at first have no ways of acting on the soul… Therefore first of all one must entreat the Lord, so that He will accomplish His work. The further guide for the zealous father or mother or nanny will be experience. When the child will have sense, then general means against passions can be used. One must arm oneself against them thoroughly and pursue them throughout all the time of upbringing, so that the child may be able and accustomed to master them, for their troubling assaults will not cease until the end of life.

If the prescribed order of action on the body and lower faculties is strictly observed, then the soul will receive from this beautiful preparation for truly good disposition; however, only preparation—the disposition itself must be built by positive action on all its powers: reason, will, and heart.

On the reason. In children intelligence is soon displayed. It is contemporary with speech and grows together with the improvement of the latter. Therefore one must begin the education of reason together with the word. The main thing to have in view is sound concepts and judgments according to Christian principles about everything that the child encounters or which claims his attention: what is good and evil, what is right and wrong. This is very easy to do through ordinary conversations and questions. Parents themselves speak among themselves: children listen and almost always assimilate not only the thoughts but even the turns of their speech and manners. Let parents, then, when they speak, always call things by their proper names. For example: what is the meaning of this present life, how does it end, from whom does everything come, what are pleasures, what worth have various customs and so forth. Let them speak with children and explain to them, either directly, or best of all, through stories: is it good, for example, to dress up; is it happiness when one receives praise, and so forth. Or let them ask children what they think about this and that, and correct their mistakes. In a short time by this simple means one can impart sound principles for judging things, which afterward will not fade for a long time, if not for all of life. In this way, at its very root worldly wisdom will be suppressed and evil, insatiable curiosity. Truth binds the mind by satisfying it. Worldly wisdom does not satisfy and thereby inflames curiosity. Having freed them from it, great good is bestowed on children. And this even before they take up books. Further, one need only refrain from giving children books with corrupt concepts, and their reason will be preserved whole, in the health of the holy and Divine. It is vain to neglect to exercise the child in this way, under the assumption that he is still small. Truth is accessible to all. That a small Christian child is wiser than philosophers has been shown by experience. It is repeated now, but formerly it was everywhere. For example, during martyrdom, small children reasoned about the Lord Savior, about the folly of idolatry, about the future life and so forth; this was because a mother or father had explained it to them in simple conversation. These truths became native to the heart, which came to treasure them to the point of readiness to die for them.

On the will. A child is full of desires: everything occupies him, everything draws him to itself and gives rise to desires. Not knowing how to distinguish good from evil, he desires everything and is ready to fulfill whatever he desires. A child, left to himself, becomes uncontrollably willful. Therefore parents must strictly watch this branch of spiritual activity. The simplest means of placing it within proper limits consists in disposing children to do nothing without permission. Let them with every desire resort to their parents and ask: may I do this or that? Convince them by their own and others’ experiences that it is dangerous for them to fulfill their desires without asking, train them so that they even fear their own will. This disposition will be the most happy, but at the same time it is also the easiest to impress, for children in any case mostly turn to adults with questions, being aware of their own ignorance and weakness; one need only elevate this matter and make it an unbreakable law for them. The natural consequence of such disposition will be complete obedience and submission in all things to the will of parents, contrary to their own, a disposition to deny themselves in many things and the habit or skill at this; and primarily, practical conviction that one must not listen to oneself in everything. This is most clear to children from their own experience, that they desire many things, meanwhile these things desired are harmful to their body and soul. In training them away from their own will, one must train the child to do good. For this let parents themselves present a true example of good life and acquaint their children with those whose main cares are not about pleasures and distinctions, but about the salvation of the soul. Children are imitative by nature. How early they know how to copy their mother or father! Here something happens similar to what occurs with instruments tuned alike. Along with this, the children themselves must be called to good deeds, and at first be commanded to do them, and then be encouraged, so that they do them of their own accord. The most ordinary deeds in this are: almsgiving, compassion, mercy, yielding, and patience. All of this is very easy to train. The occasions are momentary; one need only take up the matter. From this will come a will with disposition to various good deeds and in general with inclination toward good. And one must be taught to do good, as much as anything else.

On the heart. Under such action on the reason, will, and lower powers, of itself the heart too will be disposed so as to have sound and true feelings, to acquire the habit of being pleased with what truly does please, and not in the slightest to sympathize with that which, under the cover of sweetness, pours poison into the soul and body. The heart is the faculty of tasting and experiencing satisfaction.

When man was in union with God, he found taste in Divine things and in things sanctified by God’s grace. After the fall he lost this taste and hungers for the sensual. The grace of baptism freed him from this, but sensuality is ready again to fill the heart. One must not allow this; the heart must be protected. The most effective means of cultivating a true taste in the heart is churchliness, in which children being educated must be continuously kept. Sympathy for everything sacred, the sweetness of remaining among it on account of its peace and warmth, aversion from that which is brilliant and attractive in worldly vanity, cannot better be impressed on the heart. The Church, spiritual singing, icons—the most exquisite objects both in content and in power. One must remember that according to the taste of the heart the future eternal dwelling will be determined, and the taste of the heart there will be such as is formed here. It is evident that theaters, sideshows, and the like are unfit for Christians.

A soul humbled and organized in such a way will not, through its natural disorder, hinder the development of the spirit. The spirit develops more easily than the soul and manifests its power and activity earlier than it. To it pertain: fear of God (corresponding to reason), conscience (corresponding to will), and prayer (corresponding to feeling). Fear of God gives birth to prayer and enlightens conscience. There is no need that all this be directed toward another, invisible world. Children have a predisposition to it and quickly assimilate these feelings. Especially prayer is grafted very easily and acts not through the tongue but through the heart. For this reason they willingly and without tiring participate in home prayers and church worship and are glad about this. Therefore one must not deprive them of this part of education, but gradually introduce them into this sanctuary of our existence. The earlier the fear of God is impressed and prayer is awakened, the more firm will piety be in all subsequent time. In some children this spirit manifested itself of its own accord, even amid visible hindrances to its manifestation. This is very natural. The Spirit of grace, received in baptism, if it is not extinguished by perverse development of body and soul, cannot but quicken our spirit, and with this—what can prevent it from manifesting in its power? Conscience, however, requires the nearest guidance. Sound concepts, with the good example of parents and other methods of teaching good, and prayer will enlighten it and impress upon it sufficient foundations for subsequent good activity. But the main thing is to form in it a disposition to moral sensitivity and consciousness. Consciousness is a matter of extraordinary importance in life; but how easily it is formed, so easily is it also stifled in children. The will of parents for small children is the law of conscience and of God. As much as parents have prudence, let them so arrange their commands that they do not put children in the necessity of being transgressors of their will: and if they do become such, let parents as much as possible incline them to repentance. What frost is to flowers, that is departure from parental will to a child; he does not dare look in the eye, does not wish to enjoy caresses, wishes to run away and be alone, meanwhile the soul becomes crude and the child begins to grow wild. How good it is to dispose him beforehand to repentance, to make it so that without fear, with confidence and with tears he comes and says: “Behold, I have done this and that badly.” It is self-evident that all this will concern only ordinary matters; but it is also good that here is laid the foundation for the future constantly truly religious character—at once to rise after a fall, the skill of swift repentance and purification or renewal with tears is formed.

Behold the order: let the child grow up in it, and the spirit of piety will be developed in him more. Parents must watch all movements of the opening powers and direct all toward one end. This is the law—to begin with the very first breath of the child, to begin with all at once, and not with one thing alone, to conduct all this uninterruptedly, evenly, gradually, without outbursts, with patience and expectation, observing, however, wise gradualness, noting the shoots and using them, not counting anything insignificant in a matter so important. The details are not revealed; for it is only intended to indicate the main direction of upbringing.

One cannot determine when a person comes to the consciousness of himself as a Christian and to the independent decision to live as a Christian. In practice this happens at different times: at seven, ten, fifteen years and later. There may come a time of education before this, as is most often the case. With this an unbreakable rule—to preserve all the previous order without change and for all the time of education: for it flows essentially from the nature of our powers and the demands of Christian life. The order of education in no way should be opposed to the disposition shown above, otherwise all that was created there will be destroyed; that is, one must protect children-students, as much as infants, with the piety of all surrounding them, churchliness, the Mysteries, and also must act on their body, soul, and spirit. With this, applicable to education one should only add: let education be so arranged that it is clear what is main and what is subordinate. The thought of this is most easily impressed by the distribution of subjects and time. Let the study of faith be considered main, let time rather be designated for the deeds of piety and, in case of conflict, let the latter prevail over scientific learning; let approval be deserved not only by success in sciences, but also by faith and good morals. In general, one must so dispose the spirit of students that in them the conviction not be extinguished that the main work for us is pleasing God, while scientific learning is an attached quality, chance, suitable only for the time of the present life. And therefore in no way should it be set so high and in such a brilliant aspect that it occupies all attention and absorbs all care. There is nothing more poisonous and ruinous for the spirit of Christian life than this scientific learning and exclusive concern with it. It directly plunges into coldness and then may hold one in it forever, and sometimes even add depravity if favorable circumstances meet.

Another thing to which one must attend is the spirit of teaching or the way of looking at the subjects of education. It must be made an absolute law that every science taught to a Christian be saturated with Christian principles, and moreover with Orthodox ones. Every science is capable of this, and will be truly a science in its kind only when it fulfills this condition. Christian principles are undoubtedly true. Therefore, without doubt, establish them as the common measure of truth. Our most dangerous error is that sciences are taught with no attention whatever to the true faith, allowing themselves liberty and even falsehood, on the assumption that faith and science are two realms decisively separated. Our spirit is one. It receives both sciences and is nourished by their principles, as it receives faith and is permeated by it. How then can they not come into favorable or unfavorable contact here? Besides, the realm of truth is one. Why then stuff the head with what is not from this realm, or with what cannot be shown in its bright court.

If education is conducted in such order that faith and life in the spirit of faith are elevated above all things in the attention of those educated and in the manner of study, and in the spirit of teaching, then there is no doubt that the principles laid in childhood will not only be preserved but will be elevated, strengthened, and come to proportionate maturity. How beneficial this is!

If one leads education in such order from a person’s first years, then gradually the character which his life should have will be revealed before him, he will become more accustomed to the thought that he has the obligation from the person of God and our Savior—to live and act according to His precepts; that all other affairs and occupations are below them and fitting only during the present life; and that there is another place of dwelling, another homeland, toward which he must direct all his thoughts and all his desires. In the natural course of the development of powers, each naturally comes to the consciousness that he is a human being. But if to his nature a new principle, gracious-Christian, is grafted, at the very first moment of the awakening of his powers and their movement (in baptism), and if then at all points of the development of these powers this new principle not only does not yield primacy but on the contrary always prevails, gives, as it were, form to all things, then, coming to consciousness, a person will at the same time find himself acting according to Christian principles, will find himself a Christian. This is the chief goal of Christian upbringing, so that a person as a result should say to himself that he is a Christian. But if, coming to full consciousness of himself, he should say: “I am a Christian, obligated by the Savior and God to live thus and so, so that I might be worthy of blessed communion with Him and His chosen in the life to come,”—then, having risen to independence, or to personal rational arrangement of life, he will make his first essential work—to keep independently and kindle the spirit of piety in which he walked before, under others’ guidance.

It was mentioned before that there should be a special moment when one must intentionally renew in consciousness all the obligations of Christianity and lay upon oneself its yoke as an unbreakable law. In baptism they were received not consciously, then were preserved more by another’s mind according to another’s disposition and in simplicity. Now consciously one must lay upon oneself the good yoke of Christ, choose Christian life; devote oneself exclusively to God, so that afterward all the days of life one may serve Him with animation. Only here does a person by himself properly begin Christian life. It was in him before, but one might say, came not from independence, as if not from his own person. Now he himself, from his own person, will begin to act in the spirit of a Christian. Then the light of Christ was in him as the light of the first day, uncentered, diffused. But just as light needed to be given centers, drawn to the suns, the centers of planets, so this light must, as it were, gather about the starting point of our life, our consciousness. A person becomes fully human when he comes to self-knowledge and rational independence, when he becomes the complete master and disposer of his thoughts and deeds, holds to certain thoughts not because others have transmitted them to him, but because he himself finds them true. A person in Christianity also remains a person. Therefore here too he must be rational, only this rationality he must turn to the advantage of holy faith. Let him rationally convince himself that the holy faith he professes is the sole true path of salvation and that all other paths, not in accord with it, lead to ruin. It is an honor to a person not to be a blind confessor, but one who knows that, acting thus, he is acting as he should. All this he will do when consciously he lays upon himself the good yoke of Christ.

Only here does his personal faith, or good life according to faith, obtain firmness and unshakability. He will not be scandalized by example, will not be carried away by empty thoughts, because he clearly understands the obligation to think and act in a definite manner. But if he has not understood this, then as before a good example disposed him to act as he did, so now a bad example can dispose him to what is not good, draw him to sin; and as good thoughts of others before easily possessed his mind without contradiction, so now evil thoughts will possess it. And in experience one sees how unstable is the profession of faith and goodness of life in one who has not earlier understood himself to be a Christian. Whoever encounters few temptations will continue longer to shine in simplicity of heart. But for one who cannot avoid them, he stands before great danger. We see in the life of all who have preserved the grace of baptism that there was a moment when they decidedly devoted themselves to God. This is expressed in the words: the spirit was kindled, they were set on fire with Divine longing.

Having understood himself to be a Christian, or having consciously decided to live as a Christian, let him now himself preserve, with all care, the perfection and purity of life received from the former age, as others before preserved it for him. There is no need to set forth special rules in guidance for him. At this point he meets with the penitent, who, having turned away from sin, receives the inspired decision to live as a Christian. Therefore from here he must be guided by the same rules with him, of which will be spoken in the third section.

What distinction there is for him with the penitent in the ascent to perfection will be clear of itself.

Now it is necessary to make only certain, though very important, warnings for the adolescent years, belonging exclusively to them. How good and salutary it is not only to be disposed in upbringing as a Christian, but also then to understand oneself and to decide to be a Christian before entering the adolescent years. This is necessary in view of the great dangers to which a youth is inevitably subjected 1) according to the nature of his age and 2) according to great temptations throughout its course.

The river of our life is cut by a waving stripe of youth. This is a time of ferment of bodily-spiritual life. A child lives quietly and a youth, few rapid impulses in a man, honored gray hair inclines toward rest; youth alone seethes with life. One must have a very firm support to stand in this time against the rush of waves. The very disorder and impetuousness of movements is dangerous. His own first movements begin—the first awakening of his powers, and have for him all their charm: by the force of their influence they crowd out all that before was laid on thought and heart. What was before becomes for him a dream, a prejudice. Only present feelings are true, only they have reality and significance. But if before the awakening of these powers he bound himself by obligation of the profession and life of a Christian, then all the awakening, being already secondary, will be weaker and more easily yield to the demand of the former, already because those are older, previously tested and chosen by the heart, and especially—confirmed by vow. A youth decidedly wishes to keep always his word. What is to be said of one who not only did not love Christian life and truth, but even never heard of them?

In this case he is a house without a fence, given over to plundering, or dry kindling given to burning in fire. When his own willful thought casts a shadow of doubt on everything, when the awakenings of passions trouble him mightily, when all his soul is filled with tempting thoughts and movements—the youth is in fire. Who will give him a drop of dew for coolness or hold out a hand to help, if from his heart there does not come forth a voice for truth, for good and purity? And it will not come forth if love for them is not planted before. Even counsels in this case do not help. There is then nothing to which to graft them. Counsel and persuasion are powerful if, descending through the ear into the heart, they awaken there feelings which exist and have value for us, but only in the present moment are set aside by others, and we ourselves do not know how to free them and give them their proper power. In this case counsel is a precious gift to the youth from the counselor. But if there are no beginnings of pure life in the heart, it is useless.

A youth lives by himself, and who investigates all movements and deviations of his heart? It is the same as investigating the way of a bird in the air or the course of a ship in water! What is the ferment of rising liquid, what is the movement of elements in disorderly mixture, that is the heart of a youth. All the needs of so-called nature are in lively awakening; each gives voice, seeks satisfaction. As disorder ferments in our nature, so the combination of these voices is the same as the disorderly cries of a noisy crowd. What will become of a youth if he has not beforehand been trained to put his movements into some order and has not laid upon himself the obligation to keep them in strict subjection to certain higher demands. If these principles are deeply impressed on the heart in first upbringing and then consciously accepted as a rule, then all the ferment will occur, as it were, on the surface, in passing, not moving the foundation, not shaking the soul.

What we become when we leave the adolescent years greatly depends on what we are when we enter them. Water falling from a cliff seethes below and billows, and then flows quietly through various channels. This is an image of youth, into which each is plunged like water into a waterfall. From it two kinds of people emerge: some shine with virtue and nobility, others are darkened by wickedness and depravity; and a third—a middle class, a mixture of good and evil, whose likeness is a firebrand from fire, which inclines now toward good, now toward evil, like broken clocks which sometimes run correctly, sometimes run fast or slow.

Whoever has already bound himself with obligation is as if hidden in a strong, watertight boat or conducted a quiet trough through the whirlpool. Without this, even good upbringing will not always save. Let another not fall into gross vices, but still, if he is not bound in himself, then his heart, not released from everything by vow, will be torn by allurements, and he will inevitably come out of the adolescent years cooled, neither here nor there.

So salutary is it before the adolescent years not only to receive good disposition, but also to bind oneself with vow—to be a true Christian. Having decided, let him fear youth itself as fire, and therefore avoid all occasions in which youth easily breaks loose and becomes uncontrollable.

Youth itself is dangerous; but to this two inclinations proper to this age are added, through which the youthful awakenings burn more fiercely and acquire greater power and danger. These are: a) a thirst for impressions and b) an inclination to social intercourse. Therefore as a means to avoid the danger of the adolescent age, one can advise—to subject to rules these inclinations, so that instead of good they do not bring harm. Good dispositions, aroused before, will remain in full force if they are not extinguished or suppressed.

Thirst for impressions imparts a certain impulsiveness, continuity, and diversity to the actions of a youth. He wants to test all himself, see all, hear all, be everywhere. Look for him where there is brilliance for the eyes, harmony for the ear, space for movement. He wants to be under a continuous stream of impressions, always new and therefore diverse. He cannot sit at home, stand in one place, or attend to one subject. His element is distraction. But this is not enough for him; he is not content with actual, personal experience, but wants to assimilate and, as it were, transfer to himself the impressions of others, to learn what others felt, how they acted in like circumstances. Then he throws himself on books and begins to read; he flips through one book after another, often without discerning their content; his main thing is to find so-called effect, no matter what kind of things and what they touch. New, vivid, sharp—the best recommendation for a book in his view. Here is revealed and formed the inclination to light reading—the same thirst for impressions, only in another form. But even here it is not all. A youth often becomes bored with the real, with what is as if imposed on him from outside: this binds him and encloses him too narrowly, and he seeks a certain freedom. Then he often tears himself from reality, withdraws into his own created world and there begins to act grandly. Fantasy builds him whole stories, where most often the hero is his own person. A youth is only entering life. Before him is an attractive, tempting future. With time he must be there too: what will he be? Cannot one somehow lift this veil and look? Fantasy, very mobile in these years, does not delay to satisfy. Here is revealed and in this kind of action imagination is cultivated.

Dreams, light reading, distractions—all this is almost one in spirit—desires hunger for impressions, hunger for what is new and diverse. The harm from them is the same. Nothing can better kill the good seeds laid before in the heart of a youth than these. A young flower planted in a place where winds blow from all sides will suffer a little and wither; grass which is constantly walked on does not grow; a part of the body subjected to long friction becomes numb. The same happens to the heart and good dispositions in it, if one gives oneself over to dreams or empty reading or distractions. Whoever has long stood in the wind, especially a damp wind, when entering shelter feels that everything in him is somehow out of place; the same happens in a soul distracted in whatever way. Returning from dispersion into itself, a youth finds in his soul everything in perverted order; and most of all—all that is good is covered with a certain veil of oblivion, and on the front stage stand only the charms left by impression; consequently, no longer that which was and should always be: the dispositions have changed in their primacy. Why, after returning into itself following some distraction, does the soul begin to grieve? Because it finds itself robbed. The distracted one made his soul a great road through which, via imagination, tempting objects pass like shadows and lure the soul after themselves. But while it is in this way torn from itself, the devil quietly approaches, steals the good seed and sows evil. So the Savior teaches when He explains who steals what is sown by the wayside, and who sows the tares. Both the enemy of mankind does.

Therefore, youth! If it is desirable to you to preserve the purity and innocence of childhood or the vow of Christian life without reproach? With as much strength and prudence as you have, refrain from distractions, disorderly reading of tempting books, and dreams! How good it is to subject oneself in this case to strict and very strict discipline and to be all the time of youth under guidance. Those youths who are not allowed to manage their own conduct until maturity can be called happy. And every youth ought to rejoice if he is placed in such circumstances. The youth himself, it is evident, can hardly reach this; but he will show much wisdom if he believes the counsel to be more at home at work, not to dream and not to read empty things. Let him turn away distraction through diligence, musing through serious occupations under guidance, to which the reading in particular must be subject, both in the choice of books and in the manner of reading. However, however this is done, let it only be done. Passions, doubts, allurments are kindled precisely in this, so to speak, shaky ferment of the youth’s mind.

The second, equally dangerous inclination in a youth is the inclination to social intercourse. It is revealed in the need for companionship, friendship, and love. All of them in their true order are good, but to place them in this order belongs not to the youth.

The adolescent age is a time of lively feelings. They come to his heart like the tide and ebb to the shores of the sea. Everything occupies him, everything amazes him. Nature and society have opened their treasures before him. But feelings do not like to be hidden within themselves, and the youth wants to share them. Then he has need of a person who could share his feelings, that is, in a companion and friend. A noble need, but it can also be dangerous! To whom you entrust your feelings, you give to him in a certain way power over you. How then must one be careful in choosing a close person! You will meet one who can lead you far, far from the straight path. It is self-evident that the good naturally strives toward the good and turns away from the bad. There is a certain taste for this in the heart. But, again, how often it happens that simplicity of heart is led astray by cunning! Then it is justly advised to every youth to be careful in choosing a friend. It is good not to form a friendship until you have tried a friend. Even better to have as a first friend a father or one who in many ways takes the place of a father, or one of the relatives, experienced and good. For one who has decided to live as a Christian, the first friend given by God is a spiritual father; with him converse, entrust to him your secrets, weigh and be taught by him. Under his guidance, with prayer, God will send, if needed, another friend too. But there is not so much danger in friendship as in companionship. We rarely see friends, but rather acquaintances and companions. And here how much harm is possible and happens! There are circles of companions with very questionable rules. Having inclined toward them, you will not notice how you unite with them in spirit, similar to how imperceptibly one is poisoned by the stench in a foul place. They themselves often lose awareness of the impropriety of their conduct and calmly grow crude in it. If in someone this awareness awakens, he does not have the strength to leave. Each fears to declare this, expecting that afterward everywhere he will be pursued with barbs, and he says: “So be it, perhaps it will pass.” “Bad company corrupts good morals” (1 Cor. 15:33). Save, O Lord, everyone from these depths of Satan. For one who has decided to work for the Lord, the only companionship is with those who are pious, who seek the Lord; from others one must withdraw and not genuinely associate with them, following the example of the holy ones of God.

The very height of dangers for a youth—from intercourse with the other sex. While in the first temptations the youth only goes astray from the right path, here he, in addition, loses himself. In its first awakening this matter is confused with the need for beauty, which from the time of its awakening makes the youth seek satisfaction for himself. Meanwhile, beauty gradually begins in his soul to take form, and usually human form, because we find nothing more beautiful than it… The created image hovers in the head of the youth. From that time he seeks, as it were, beauty, that is, the ideal, not of earth, meanwhile he meets the daughter of man and is wounded by her. This wounding must be avoided by the youth most of all, because this is a sickness so dangerous that the patient wishes to be ill to the point of madness.

How to turn away this wound? Do not go the way by which one comes to wounding.

This way is depicted thus in one psychology. It has three turns.

First there awakens in the youth a certain sorrowful feeling of something unknown and from what, resonating, however, especially in that he is, as it were, alone. This is the feeling of solitude. From this feeling at once is born another—a certain pity, tenderness and concern for oneself. Before he lived as if not noticing himself. Now he turns to himself, examines himself and always finds that he is not bad, not from the worst, he is a person of worth: he begins to feel his beauty, the pleasantness of the forms of his body, or—to like himself. This ends the first movement of temptation toward oneself. From then on the youth turns toward the outer world.

This entrance into the outer world is animated by conviction that he ought to please others. In this conviction he boldly and, as it were, victoriously enters the field of action and, perhaps for the first time, makes it a law for himself to be neat, clean, well-dressed to the point of dandyism; begins to wander, or to seek acquaintances, as if without definite aim, yet by secret draw of something seeking in the heart, and while doing this he strives to shine with wit, pleasantness in intercourse, attentive care, in general with everything by which he hopes to please. Along with this he gives all freedom to the chief organ of soul-communion—the eye.

In this disposition he is like powder placed under sparks and soon meets his sickness. Struck or shot through by the glance of the eye or a particularly pleasant voice like an arrow, he stands at first in a certain rapture and consternation, from which, coming to himself and regaining his senses, he finds that his attention and heart are turned to one object and drawn to it with irresistible force. From then on the heart begins to be gnawed by anguish; the youth is dejected, absorbed in himself, occupied by something important, seeks, as if he has lost something, and whatever he does, does it for one person and, as if in his presence. He is truly lost; sleep and food do not come to mind, ordinary tasks are forgotten and fall into disorder; nothing is dear to him. He is sick with a fierce sickness that squeezes the heart, constricts breathing, dries up the very sources of life. Behold the gradual course of wounding! And it is self-evident what the youth must fear so as not to fall into this calamity. Do not go this way! Drive away the forerunners—the undefined sadness and feeling of solitude. Do the opposite: it has become sad—do not dream, but begin to do something serious with attention and it will pass. Self-pity has begun to be born or the feeling of one’s own attractiveness—hasten to sober yourself and drive away this fancy with some severity and cruelty to yourself, especially by clarifying the sound understanding of the worthlessness of what creeps into the head. Chance or intentional humiliation in this case was like water on fire… One must take special care to suppress and drive away this feeling because here is the beginning of movement. Stop here—you will not go further: there will arise neither the desire to please, nor the seeking of adornments and dandyism, nor the desire for visits. Let these break through—and fight them. What a reliable fence in this case—strict discipline in all things, bodily and even more mental labor! Intensify your studies, stay at home, do not be distracted. If you need to go out—guard your senses, flee the other sex, and most of all—pray.

Besides these dangers flowing from the properties of the adolescent age, there are two more: first—the disposition by which rational knowledge, or personal comprehension, is exalted to the heavens. A youth considers it an advantage—to cast the shadow of doubt on everything, and puts aside everything that does not coincide with the measure of his understanding. By this alone he cuts from his heart all disposition of faith and the Church, consequently falls away from it and remains alone. Seeking a replacement for what was abandoned, he throws himself on theories built without regard to revealed truth, ensnares himself in them and expels from his mind all truths of faith. Even greater harm if the reason is given by the teaching of sciences in schools and if such a spirit becomes predominant there. They think they possess truth, but gather nebulous ideas, empty, fanciful, for the most part even contrary to sound sense, which, however, attract the inexperienced and become an idol for the inquisitive youth. Second—worldliness. Let it present something useful, but its predominance in a youth is harmful. It is marked by life according to the impressions of the senses, such a state in which a person is little in himself but almost all outside, either by deed or by dream. With such a disposition they hate inner life and those who speak of it and live it. True Christians are for them mystics confused in concepts, or hypocrites and so forth. The spirit of the world hinders them from understanding truth, reigning in the circle of worldly life, to which they are allowed to touch freely and are even advised to touch, and youths are permitted. By this touching, the world, with all its corrupt concepts and customs, is stuffed into the receptive soul of the youth, not forewarned, not disposed contrary to it, but only beginning to take disposition, and is imprinted on it as on wax—and he involuntarily becomes a child of it. But this childhood is contrary to childhood of God in Christ Jesus.

Behold the dangers to youths from youth! And how hard it is to endure! But to one who is well brought up and who has decided to devote himself to God before the adolescent years, it is not so dangerous; endure a little while, and then the purest and most blessed peace will come. Keep only the vow of Christian pure life in this time; and afterward you will live with a certain holy unshakability. Whoever has passed safely through the adolescent years, it is as if he has swum through a turbulent river and, looking back, blesses God. But another, with tears in his eyes, in repentance, turns back and mourns himself. What you lose in youth you can never recover. Whoever has fallen—will he ever reach what one who has not fallen possesses?

From what has been said thus far it is easy to understand the reason why those who preserve the grace of baptism are so rare. Upbringing is the cause of all, both good and evil.

For this reason the grace of baptism is not preserved, because the order, rules, and laws of education adapted to it are not observed. The chief causes are:

Separation from the Church and its grace-filled means. This starves the seedling of Christian life, severing it from its sources, and it withers, as a flower withers when placed in a dark place.

Neglect of the body’s functions. People think the body can develop in every way without harm to the soul; meanwhile, in its functions lie the seats of passions, which develop together with the body’s development, take root, and gain dominion over the soul. Penetrating the bodily functions, the passions establish in them a dwelling place, or construct from them something like an impregnable fortress and thereby secure their power over everything that follows.

Undiscerning, goalless development of the soul’s powers. Without seeing the aim ahead—one doesn’t see the path to it. Hence, despite all attention to the most modern education, they do nothing but inflame curiosity, willfulness, and thirst for pleasures.

Complete forgetfulness of the spirit. Prayer, fear of God, conscience are rarely heeded. Let there be visible correctness, and those inmost spiritual states are always presupposed and therefore always left as they are.

During education—overshadowing the principal work with secondary concerns, obscuring the one with a multitude of others.

Finally, entering youth without having first laid down good principles and the resolve to live as a Christian, and then failing to restrain the impulses of youth’s life in proper order, abandoning oneself to every craving for impressions through distraction, light reading, kindling the imagination with fantasies, indiscriminate association with those like oneself and especially with the opposite sex, exclusive devotion to learning and adherence to the spirit of the world, current opinions, rules and customs, which are never favorable to the life of grace but are always hostilely arrayed against it and strive to suppress it.

Any one of these causes alone is sufficient to extinguish the life of grace in a person. But it usually happens that they act together, and one inevitably draws another; altogether they so smother the spiritual life that sometimes even the slightest traces of it are not visible, as if the person had no spirit, was not created for communion with God, does not have the powers ordained for this, and did not receive the grace that animates them.

Why is not a purposeful order in education maintained? The reason is either ignorance of such an order or neglect of it. Education left to itself without attention necessarily takes on distorted, false, and harmful directions, first in home life and then during schooling. But even where education appears to be carried out not without attention and is subject to certain rules, it proves often fruitless and deflecting from the goal, because of the false ideas and principles on which its order is built. That which should be aimed at is not that which is kept in view, not that which is made the chief concern; namely, not pleasing God, not the salvation of the soul, but something quite different: either the perfecting of natural powers only, or adaptation to duties, or fitness for life in society, and so forth. But when the principle is impure and false, by necessity that which is built upon it cannot lead to good.

As the chief deviations one can point to:

The exclusion of grace-filled means. It is the natural consequence of forgetting that the one being educated is a Christian and possesses not only natural but also grace-filled powers. Without these means, a Christian is an ungardened garden, which prowling demons trample, which the storm of sin and the world breaks, which no one can manage or drive away.

The predominant preparation for happiness in temporal life, with the suppression of memory of the eternal. This is what is spoken of at home, this is what is expounded in the classroom, this is what is put forward as chief in simple conversations.

The predominance of the external in all things, not excluding even sacred service.

Not prepared at home, having gone through such education, is inevitably befuddled in his head, looks at everything not with the eyes he should; represents everything in a distorted form, as if through broken or false spectacles. Therefore, he does not want to listen either about his last true goal or about the means to it. All this is foreign business to him, as if a joke.

After this it is not difficult to determine what exactly is needed to correct such a poor state of affairs. It is necessary:

To understand well and assimilate the principles of true Christian education and act according to them, first of all at home. Domestic education is the root and foundation of all that follows. One who is well educated and established at home will not easily be led astray from the right path by defective school education.

Then to rebuild school education according to new, true principles, to introduce Christian elements into it, to correct the defective; the chief thing—to keep throughout the time of education the one being educated under the abundant influence of the Holy Church, which through all its arrangement acts salutarily on the building of the spirit. This would prevent sinful impulses from igniting, would blow away the spirit of the world and drive the spirit out from the abyss. Together with this one must direct everything from the temporal to the eternal, from the external to the internal, educate the children of the Church, members of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Most necessary of all: to educate educators under the guidance of such persons as know true education not from theory but from experience. Forming themselves under the oversight of the most experienced educators, they will again transmit their skill to others, to those who come after, and so on. An educator must go through all the degrees of Christian perfection so that later in his work he may know how to conduct himself, be capable of noticing the directions of those being educated, and then act upon them with patience, successfully, powerfully, fruitfully. This ought to be an order of persons most pure, chosen by God, and holy. Education among all holy works is the holiest.

The fruit of good education is the preservation of the grace of holy baptism. The latter compensates with abundance for all the labor in the former. For certain high privileges belong to the one who has preserved the grace of baptism and from the first years dedicated himself to God.

The first privilege, as it were the foundation of all other privileges, is the wholeness of the natural grace-filled composition. Man is appointed to be a vessel of extraordinarily high powers, ready to pour forth upon him from the source of all good, only let him not disrupt himself. And a penitent can be healed completely; but it seems to him that he is not granted to know and feel what one knows and feels who has not fallen, or he cannot delight in that wholeness and possess that boldness which is its consequence.

From this flow of themselves liveliness, ease, and lack of constraint in doing good. He walks in goodness as in the only natural world to him. A penitent must for a long time strain and accustom himself to this goodness to perform it easily, but even having achieved this, must constantly keep himself in tension and fear. On the contrary, this one lives in simplicity of heart, in a certain confidence of salvation that blesses him, a confidence that is infallible.

Then in his life there is established a certain evenness and unbrokenness. In him there are neither violent impulses nor weakening; and as our breathing is accomplished for the most part evenly, so also his walking in goodness. The same happens in a penitent, but it is not acquired soon and does not appear in such perfection. A repaired wheel often gives notice of its defect; and repaired clocks are no longer as accurate as unrepaired and new ones.

The one who has not fallen is always young. In the features of his moral character are reflected the feelings of a child, while it had not yet become guilty before its father. Here first is the feeling of innocence, childhood in Christ, as it were ignorance of evil. How much it cuts off for him in thoughts and agonizing disturbances of heart! Then comes extraordinary warmth of heart, sincere goodness, gentleness of disposition. In him in all their force are displayed the fruits of the Spirit pointed out by the Apostle: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness, self-control” (Gal 5:22–23). He is as if clothed “in compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience” (Col 3:12). Then he preserves genuine cheerfulness, or spiritual joy; for in him is the Kingdom of God, which is peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Then he is possessed of a certain foresight and wisdom, seeing all within himself and around himself and knowing how to manage himself and his affairs. His heart takes on such a disposition that it straightway tells him what and how must be done. Finally, one can say he is possessed of freedom from fear of falling, a feeling of safety in God. “Who will separate us from the love of God?” (Rom 8:35). All this together makes him both worthy of respect and worthy of love. He involuntarily draws others to himself. The existence in the world of such persons is a great grace of God. They take the place of apostolic nets. As many iron filings gather around a strong magnet or as a strong character draws the weak, so the power of the Spirit dwelling in them draws all to itself, especially those who have the beginnings of the spirit.

The chief moral perfection belonging to the one who has kept himself whole through the years of youth is a certain unshakeableness of virtue throughout all life. Samuel remains steadfast through all the temptations of seduction in the house of Eli and amid the upheavals of the people in society. Joseph among unfaithful brothers, in the house of Potiphar, in prison and in glory alike preserved his soul spotless. Truly, “it is good for a man when he has borne the yoke in his youth” (Lam 3:27). “My child, from your youth choose discipline, and” then “you will find wisdom even in old age. You will labor a little in her work, and soon you will eat her fruits” (Sir 6:18, 20). Right disposition becomes as it were second nature, and if it is sometimes somewhat disturbed, it quickly returns to its former order. Therefore in the Menologion we find the saints are for the most part those who preserved moral purity and the grace of baptism in their youth.

Moreover, whoever preserves purity and dedicates himself to God from early years does what is most pleasing to God, brings Him the sacrifice most acceptable—because to God generally, by the law of his judgments, most pleasing of all is the first: the first fruits of the harvest, the firstborn of people, of animals, and consequently the first years of youth; because the sacrifice offered is pure—an spotless youth, which was chiefly required of every sacrifice; because they do this by overcoming no small obstacles both within themselves and without, by renouncing the pleasures to which they feel a special inclination at this time; they accomplish the wisest work. One must dedicate oneself to God, for in this alone is salvation. Unless someone has fallen into despair. But there is nothing better and more sure for this time than the first moment in which we became conscious of ourselves—for who knows what will be tomorrow? But even if someone hoped to live longer, not dedicating any of his time to God, he would only be making things difficult for himself, growing accustomed to an opposite life, and God knows whether he would overcome himself afterward. Even if he did overcome: what kind of sacrifice to God is that—sickly, exhausted, damaged in its members, not whole? However, although all this does happen, how rarely! How rarely does one who has lost innocence manage to recover it! How difficult it is to turn around, not having known good life from childhood, vividly depicted, from his own experience, the blessed Augustine in his confession.

“The years of childhood,” he says, “I spent in pranks and mischief, even forbidden things, in disobedience and heedlessness toward my parents. With entry into youth, licentiousness began, and in three years I became so depraved that for the following 12 years I continually made the intention to reform myself and—found not the strength to fulfill it. Even after I made the turn to a decisive breaking of my will, I still delayed for two years, putting off my conversion from day to day. So weakened was my will by the first passions! But after decisive conversion and receiving grace in holy baptism, what I had to endure, struggling with my passions, which strongly pulled me back to my former path!”

Is it any wonder that so few are saved from those who misspent their youth?! This example shows most clearly what great danger a person is in who has not received good principles in youth and has not dedicated himself to God beforehand. What a blessing therefore to receive true Christian education, to enter with it into the years of youth, and then in the same spirit to enter into the years of adulthood.

Part 2. On the Beginning of the Christian Life through Repentance; or, On the Repentance and Conversion of the Sinner to God

How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Repentance?

The beginning of graceful Christian life is established in baptism. But few preserve this grace; most Christians lose it. We see that some show themselves in actual life as more or less corrupted, with wicked tendencies that are allowed to develop and take root in them. In some, perhaps, good tendencies were laid, but in the youth’s early years, whether by their own inclination or by temptation from others, they forget them, begin to grow accustomed to what is evil and do grow accustomed. All such people no longer possess truly Christian life in themselves; they must begin it again. Our Holy Faith offers the Mystery of Repentance for this purpose. “If anyone sins, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous” (1 Jn 2:1). If you have sinned, know your sin and repent. God will forgive your sin and give you again “a new heart and a new spirit” (Ezek 36:26). There is no other path: either do not sin, or repent. Indeed, judging by the multitude of those who fall after baptism, one must say that repentance has become for us the sole source of truly Christian life.

It must be known that in the Mystery of Repentance, for some the gift of graceful life already received and active in them is only cleansed and rekindled; for others only the beginning of this life is established, or this life is given again and received anew. We shall consider it from this latter perspective.

In the sense just mentioned, it is a decisive change for the better, a breaking of the will, a turning away from sin and turning to God, or the kindling of the fire of zeal for pleasing God exclusively, with self-renunciation and rejection of everything else. Most characteristically it involves the painful breaking of the will. A person has grown accustomed to what is evil; now one must, as it were, tear oneself apart. One has offended God; now one must burn in the fire of impartial judgment. The penitent experiences the pangs of childbirth and in the heart’s feelings somehow touches the torments of hell. To the weeping Jeremiah the Lord commanded: “to tear down” “and again” “to build and to plant” (Jer 1:10). And the sorrowful spirit of repentance was sent by the Lord to earth so that, passing through those who receive it “to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow” (Heb 4:12), it might tear down the old self and lay foundations for building the new. In the penitent—now fear, now faint hope, now sorrow, now light consolation, now terrors of near despair, now the breath of mercy’s joy—these alternate with one another and place or keep him in a state of dissolving, or parting with life, yet in expectation of receiving new life.

This is painful, but salutary, and so inevitable that whoever has not felt such painful breaking has not yet begun to live through repentance. There is no hope that a person can cleanse himself in everything without passing through this ordeal. Decisive and living opposition to sin comes only from hatred of it; hatred of sin comes from a sense of the evil it brings; this sense of its evil is experienced in all its force in this painful breaking in repentance. Only here does a person feel with all his heart how great an evil sin is; then afterwards he will flee from it as from the fire of hell. Without this painful trial, though another may cleanse himself, he will cleanse himself only superficially—more externally than internally, more in deeds than in dispositions; and so his heart will remain wholly unclean, like ore that has not been melted.

Such a change is produced in the human heart by Divine grace. Only it can inspire a person to raise a hand against himself, to slay himself and offer himself to God as a sacrifice. “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him” (Jn 6:44). “A new heart and a new spirit” God Himself gives (Ezek 36:26). The person himself pities himself. Having merged with the flesh and sin, he became one with them. Only an outside, higher power can divide him and arm him against himself.

Thus the change of a sinner is produced by grace, yet not without free will. In baptism grace is given to us at the moment the Mystery is performed over us; and free will comes afterwards and takes what has been given. But in repentance free will must participate in the very act of change.

The change for the better, the turning to God, must be instantaneous or momentary, as it indeed is. But preparatorily it passes through several stages, showing the union of freedom with grace, where grace masters freedom and freedom submits to grace—stages necessary for everyone. Some pass through them quickly; for others this continues for whole years. Who can investigate all that happens here, especially when the ways of grace are very diverse and the states of people on whom it begins to work are countless? Yet one must expect that for all the diversity, there is here one common order of change which no one can escape. Every penitent is one living in sin—and grace transforms every such person. Therefore, on the basis of understanding the state of a sinner in general and the relation of freedom to grace, we can now depict this order and define it by rules.

The State of a Sinner

A sinner who must be renewed in repentance is depicted in God’s Word most often as plunged in deep sleep. The distinguishing characteristic of such persons is not always obvious vice, but precisely the absence of that inspired, self-denying zeal for pleasing God with decisive rejection of everything sinful—the fact that for them godliness does not constitute the main object of their concerns and labors, that occupied with many other things, they are completely indifferent to their salvation, do not feel what danger they are in, neglect a good life, and live a life cold toward faith, though sometimes outwardly correct and blameless.

This is the general characteristic. In particulars, the ungracious person appears as follows.

Turned away from God, a person stops at himself and makes himself the chief goal of all his life and activity. This is so partly because after God there is nothing higher than himself; especially because, having once received every fullness from God but now emptied of Him, he hastens and is concerned to fill himself with something else. The emptiness formed in him through falling away from God ceaselessly kindles in him an unquenchable and indefinite but constant thirst. A person has become a bottomless abyss; he labors hard to fill this abyss, but does not see or feel himself filled. For this reason his whole life is spent in toil, effort, and great cares: occupied with various objects in which he hopes to find relief from the thirst consuming him. These objects absorb all his attention, all his time, and all his activity. They are his first good, in which his heart lives. From this it is clear why a person, making himself an exclusive goal, is never in himself but always outside himself, in created things or things invented by vanity. Cut off from God, Who is the fullness of all things, he himself is empty; he remains as though scattered over infinitely diverse things and lives in them. Thus the sinner yearns for, is concerned about, and busies himself with objects outside himself and God, with many and diverse things. Hence the characteristic feature of sinful life is, with neglect of salvation, cares about many things (see: Lk 10:41).

The nuances and distinctions of this concern about many things depend on the nature of the voids formed in the soul. The void of the mind, which has forgotten the One Who is all, gives rise to concern for much knowledge, investigation, questioning, inquisitiveness. The void of the will, which has lost possession of the One Who is all, produces desire for many things, striving for much possession or universal possession, so that everything is in our will, in our hands—this self-centered love. The void of the heart, which has lost enjoyment of the One Who is all, creates a thirst for many and diverse pleasures, or the seeking of those countless objects in which we hope to find satisfaction of our senses, both inner and outer. Thus the sinner is constantly concerned with much knowledge, much possession, much pleasure—he is pleased, he dominates, he seeks. This is the circle in which he whirls his whole life. Seeking tantalizes, the heart hopes to taste sweetness and draws the will along. That this is so, anyone can verify by observing the movements of his own soul for just one day.

The sinner would remain in this circle if left alone: such is our nature when it is in slavery to sin. But this circle is increased and complicated a thousandfold because the sinner is not alone. There is an entire world of persons who do exactly that—seek, enjoy, accumulate—who have brought these methods into order, subjected them to laws, made them necessary for all belonging to their realm, who in mutual union, inevitably coming into contact, rub against each other, and in this friction only heighten to the tenth, hundredth, and thousandth degree the seeking, self-centered love, and self-pleasure, placing all happiness, bliss, and life in their inflaming. This is the vain world, whose occupations, customs, rules, connections, language, amusements, diversions, ideas—all, from the smallest to the greatest, are saturated with the spirit of those three offspring of concern about many things mentioned above, and constitute a cheerless wreck of the spirit of lovers of the world. Standing in living union with all this world, every sinner is ensnared by its thousand-fold net, wrapped in it deeply, so that he himself is not visible. A heavy burden lies on the whole face of the sinner who loves the world and on each of his parts, so that he does not have the strength to stir even slightly in an unwordly manner, because then he would necessarily have to lift as it were a thousand-pound weight. For this reason no one undertakes such an impossible task, and no one thinks of undertaking it, but all live, moving along the same track into which they have fallen.

To make matters worse, in this world there is its own prince, unique in cunning, malice, and skill in deceptions. Through the flesh and materiality with which the soul mixed itself at the fall, he has free access to it and, approaching, fans into flames on all sides the seeking, self-centered love, pleasure-loving self-comforting; with his various deceptions he holds them inescapably, with various promptings he suggests plans to satisfy them, and then either helps carry them out or ruins them by pointing to other more powerful plans—all with one goal: to prolong and deepen residence in them. This constitutes the alternation of worldly failures and successes not blessed by God. This prince has a whole host of servants, spirits of wickedness subject to him. At every moment they swiftly traverse all corners of the inhabited world to sow one thing here, another thing there, to deepen those caught in the nets of sin, to renew bonds that have weakened and broken—especially to watch that no one dares to break free from their bonds and go to freedom. In this last case they quickly gather around the rebel, at first one by one, then in detachments and legions, and finally with the whole host—and this in various forms and methods, to block all exits, to repair the threads and nets, and, by another comparison, to cast back into the abyss the one who has begun to climb out. This invisible kingdom of spirits has special places—throne-halls where plans are made, orders are received, reports are taken with approval or censure from those who work there. These are the depths of Satan, in the expression of St. John the Theologian. On earth, in the midst of their kingdom among people, such places are unions of evildoers, those who spread corruption, especially unbelieving blasphemers, who spread the darkness of sin everywhere by deed, word, and writing and obscure the light of God. The instrument through which they express their will and power here is the sum of worldly customs saturated with sinful elements, always dulling and turning away from God.

Behold the structure of the sinful domain!

Every sinner is wholly in it, but is held chiefly by something singular. And this one thing, perhaps, seems sometimes quite acceptable, and even commendable.

Satan has one concern: that what occupies the person entirely, where his consciousness, attention, heart are—should not be God exclusively and alone, but something outside Him, so that, cleaving to this with mind, will, and heart, he has that in place of God and only cares for it, seeks to know it, finds pleasure in it, and possesses it. Here it is not only carnal and soulish passions, but also things of good appearance, like learning, artistry, worldly success—that can serve as bonds with which Satan holds blinded sinners in his domain, not letting them come to their senses.

If one looks at a sinner in his inner disposition and state, it will be found that although he sometimes knows much, he is blind regarding God’s works and the work of his own salvation; that although he is constantly occupied and concerned, he is inactive and negligent regarding the ordering of his salvation; that although he constantly experiences agitations or pleasures of the heart, he is completely insensitive to everything spiritual. In this respect, all the powers of his being are struck by sin, and in the sinner there dwell blindness, negligence, and insensitivity. He does not see his condition, and therefore does not feel the danger of his position; he does not feel the danger, and therefore does not care to escape it. It does not even occur to him that he needs to change and be saved. He is in complete, unshaken confidence that he is in his proper place, that he has nothing to wish for, that everything should remain as it is. And therefore he considers any reminder of another kind of life superfluous for himself, does not heed it, cannot even understand what it is for, avoids it, and flees from it.

The Action of Divine Grace

We have said that a sinner is like a person plunged in deep sleep. Just as someone who is fast asleep will not awake and rise himself, no matter what danger approaches, unless someone else comes and wakes him—so too, one who is immersed in the sleep of sin will not come to his senses and rise unless Divine grace comes to help him. By God’s boundless mercy, it is ready for all, visits all, and calls out to each one: “Awake, sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine upon you” (Eph 5:14).

This comparison of sinners to those asleep provides points for all-sided consideration of their turning to God. Namely: one who is asleep awakens, rises, and gets ready to go to work. And a sinner who turns and repents awakens from sinful sleep, reaches resolution to change (rises), and finally is clothed with power for new life in the Mysteries of Repentance and Communion (is ready to work). In the parable of the prodigal son these moments are indicated thus: “coming to himself”—he came to his senses; “I will arise and go”—he resolved to leave his former life; and “he arose and went”; where he says to his father: “I have sinned”—repentance; and the father clothes him in garments (justification and forgiveness of sins) and prepares a feast for him (holy communion) (Lk 15:11–32).

Thus there are three moments in the turning of sinners to God: awakening from the sleep of sin; arriving at the resolution to abandon sin and dedicate oneself to pleasing God; being clothed with power from on high for this work in the Mysteries of Repentance and Communion.

The Awakening of a Sinner From the Sleep of Sin

The awakening of a sinner is such an action of Divine grace in his heart that as a result he, like one awakened from sleep, sees his sinfulness, feels the danger of his position, begins to be afraid for himself, and is concerned about how to escape his misery and be saved. Before he was blind, insensitive, and negligent toward salvation; now he sees, feels, and is concerned. But this is not yet a change, only the possibility of change and a call to it. Grace only says here to the sinner: “See where you have gone; now take measures toward your salvation.” It only tears him from his habitual bonds, stands him outside them, and holds him there, thus giving him the possibility to choose an entirely new life and commit himself to it. If he makes use of this—well for him; if not—he will be cast down again, will sink back into that same sleep and abyss of ruin.

Divine grace achieves this by revealing before the consciousness and feeling of the person the worthlessness and shame of that to which he is devoted and what he so values. As God’s Word passes “to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow” (Heb 4:12), so grace passes to the division of heart and sin and dissolves their illegal union and connection. We have seen that the sinner sinks with his whole being into such a realm where principles, ideas, judgments, rules, customs, pleasures, and orders are completely opposite to the true spiritual life for which man is destined. Having sunk into this realm, he does not remain separate and apart, but penetrating everything, he merges with everything: he is wholly in all. From this it naturally follows that he does not know and does not think about what is contrary to this order, and has no sympathy for it. The realm of the spirit is completely closed to him. It is clear after this that the door to conversion can open only on condition that the order of spiritual life is revealed before the sinner’s consciousness in all its clarity, and not only revealed but also touching his heart; while the order of sinful life is put to shame, rejected, and destroyed—also before his consciousness and feeling. Only then can concern arise—to abandon this and enter that. All this is accomplished in one act of grace-filled awakening of the sinner.

In its manner of action, the awakening grace of God always corresponds not only to the bonds in which the sinner is held, but also to the particular state of the sinner. In this latter respect, one must especially note the difference in the action of grace on those who have never been awakened and on those who have already experienced this awakening. To one who has never once experienced it, it is given as if for free, as universal preceding or calling grace. Nothing preliminary is required from him, because he is wholly directed elsewhere. But to one who has already been awakened, knew and felt what life in Christ is, and again gave himself to sin, awakening is not given freely. Something is required from him as well beforehand. He must, as it were, still earn and pray for it; not only wish, but do something to himself to draw grace-filled awakening. Such a person, remembering his former dwelling in the good Christian order, often wishes for it again but does not gain power over himself; he would like to reform, but cannot master himself and overcome himself. He is in helpless powerlessness, abandoned to himself because he formerly abandoned the gift, “insulted” the “Spirit of grace” and “trampled underfoot the Son of God” (Heb 10:29). Now he is given to feel how great this grace-filled power is by the very fact that it is not readily given. Seek and labor, and by the difficulty of gaining it learn to value it. Such a person is in a somewhat tormenting state: he thirsts but is not satisfied, hungers but is not fed, seeks but does not find, strains but does not receive. Some are left in this state very, very long, until they feel as though God has rejected them, as though God has forgotten and rejected them, and condemned them like land which has been rained on many times but remains barren (see: Heb 6:7–8). But this delay of grace touching the seeker’s heart is only a trial. The trial passes, and the awakening spirit descends on him again, because of his labors and sweaty seeking, as on others it descends freely. Such a way of action of saving grace indicates to us: a) the extraordinary actions of Divine grace in awakening sinners, and b) the ordinary order of gaining the gift of awakening grace.

The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

It is beneficial for those living in grace-filled life to know these actions so that, seeing God’s great care for sinners, they may glorify the unspeakable Divine grace and be encouraged with good hope of help from above in every good deed. And for those seeking Divine goodness it is especially necessary to know them because in them more clearly than anywhere else are expressed the properties of grace-filled awakening which we must understand well and clarify so that we can determine whether what we experience is grace-filled awakening—and if we already act, whether we act by grace-filled awakening or by self-made enthusiasm. Truly Christian life is a life of grace. Self-made life, however beautiful it may appear and however it may maintain the forms of Christian life, will never be Christian. Its beginning is established in grace-filled awakening; whoever heeds this will not lack grace-filled guidance and communion for all the time he remains faithful to its promptings. This is why we must understand well whether or not we have had grace-filled awakening. To satisfy this requirement one can say: judge yourself by the properties of grace-filled awakening revealed in extraordinary cases, for they are the same both in extraordinary cases and in the ordinary order, only in the former they are revealed more vividly, more clearly, and more distinctly.

In grace-filled awakening, as has been indicated, there occurs instantaneously the destruction in consciousness of the entire established order of self-pleasing sinful life and the revelation before it of another, better, Divine order, the one and only true and blissful one. Briefly this order can be depicted thus: God, worshiped in the Holy Trinity, who created the world and cares for it, saves us who have fallen in the Lord Jesus Christ through the grace of the Holy Spirit, under the guidance and protection of the Holy Church, through the crucified, trials-bearing life here, bringing us to eternal, endless bliss in the future life. He embraces both persons and events, institutions and the very principles by which all moves. The whole of this order is vividly imprinted on the spirit of the sinful person by the action of grace and, striking representation of its opposition to him and his disposition and to all he formerly lived for and enjoyed, when he ought to be in complete harmony with it and like-minded—strikes him. Every feature of it utters rebuke and censure to the person for his former lack of understanding and dishonesty, and these are all the more deeply impressed when at the same time the spirit perceives the worthy-of-contempt worthlessness of the former sinful order. Under this action the heart is freed from former bonds and stands free, and therefore is free to choose a new kind of life. This is the limit of the action of grace-filled awakening. It destroys in consciousness and feeling all that was formerly—the worse—and vividly presents only the new better, leaving the person struck in this position, free to choose the new or return to the old. Notably, grace-filled awakening is always accompanied by being struck and a kind of fright; perhaps because it suddenly, as it were by surprise, seizes the sinner at the crossroads of life, like a criminal, and presents him to God’s inescapable judgment, or because the new order revealed in consciousness is completely new to him and strikingly opposed to the former—and not only new but perfect in all its parts and bliss-giving, while the first is nothing, with only a heavy heart and wreck of spirit.

Yet the starting point of all good actions of grace-filled awakening is this living consciousness of the new Divine order. Starting from this idea, let us recall all the actual cases of this grace-filled action. The consciousness of the new order of being and life is produced in two ways: aa) sometimes the order itself, whole or in parts, is visibly, tangibly, actually presented to the sought-out sinner; bb) sometimes the spirit of man is brought into it and experiences it inwardly. aa) The merciful Lord reveals His Divine world in various ways before the consciousness of the one being converted, in which it is determined that our spirit shall live.

Often for this He appears Himself, visibly, under some form, either in a person’s waking state or in sleep. Thus He appeared to the Apostle Paul on his way to Damascus, to Constantine the Great (May 21), to Eustathius the Placidas (September 20), to one who was going to torment Christians—this is Proclus the Great Martyr (July 8)—to Paternutius in sleep (July 9), and to many others.

Sometimes He is pleased to send from that world various persons, likewise in visible form or in visions, in their own appearance or in some other form. Thus the Mother of God appeared many times, alone or with the Eternal Child, or accompanied by saints—one, two, or many: the great martyr Catherine (November 24), for example, was converted by an appearance to her in sleep of the Mother of God with the Eternal Child, who betrothed her to Himself as His bride. Angels appeared many times, one and entire choirs: for example, to Saint Andrew the Fool-for-Christ (October 2) in sleep was presented the entire host of holy Angels in opposition to the multitude of dark forces; saints appeared many times: for example, the holy bishop Mitrophan—to a Lutheran doctor, to a sick maiden, and to many others.

Sometimes that world itself and especially its order and as it were its foundational principles are depicted before the unknowing consciousness in some striking image, as can be seen from the case of the Holy Andrew the Fool-for-Christ already cited and from many other examples in which either the blessed dwellings of the righteous were presented to those being converted, as to an Indian king and his brother after the holy Apostle Thomas (October 6) distributed to the poor the money given to him for building a house; or the terrible torments of sinners, as to Isychius the Horivite (October 3, Prologue); or the conducting of the post-mortem judgment, as to Peter the Baker who threw a bread roll in the face of a beggar; or a deep thought was impressed about death and one’s fate after it, as to Ioasaph the Prince (November 19), to Saint Clement (November 25), and to one wayward youth whose dying father charged him to visit without fail every evening the room where he was dying.

Sometimes one is given to feel tangibly the invisible force working in the midst of visible forces and phenomena, but strikingly different from them and proceeding from another world. Here belong all miracles in general by means of which conversions too numerous to count have taken place. And the Savior said that unbelievers will not believe unless they see signs. Most of them were shown after Christ the Savior in the first times of Christianity by the Apostles, and after them by the holy martyrs. The striking presence here of God’s invisible force often converted whole villages and cities, but was never wholly fruitless. The blood of the martyrs indeed lies at the foundation of the Church…

There were also such cases when God’s power showed itself without the mediation of a human person, as in the conversion of Mary of Egypt (April 1), or through the mediation of holy things, icons, relics, etc. Thus the conversion of the Jews in Beirut was accomplished through miraculous appearances on an icon of the Crucified Lord. In all such manifestations, consciousness entangled in various objects and deceptions of the world and held inescapably in the visible, sensible, external order is suddenly wrenched from its bonds by a striking, unexpected, instantaneous presentation to it of higher persons and forces from some invisible realm and is driven into another order of being and life, and struck, stands in it. Here occurs the same as when electricity is aroused in one body by electricity from another body. The latter wrenches it from the bonds of matter, and drawing it to the surface, holds it before itself. bb) Our spirit, as we have seen, is closed and silenced by many coverings. But by nature it is a beholder of Divine order. The capacity for this is ready to show and indeed shows its power as soon as the hindering obstacles are removed. Therefore, for awakening the dormant spirit in man and introducing it into contemplation of Divine order, Divine grace either a) directly acts on it and, filling it with power, gives it the ability to break the bonds holding it, or b) mediately, shakes off the coverings and nets and thereby gives freedom to be in its own order.

Directly the Divine, omnipresent, and all-penetrating grace overshadows the human spirit, imprinting in it thoughts and feelings that turn away from all finite things and turn toward another, better, though invisible and unknown, world. The general characteristic of these awakenings is dissatisfaction with oneself and all one’s own and sorrow about something. A person becomes unsatisfied with anything that surrounds him—neither his accomplishments nor what he possesses, even if those were countless treasures—and walks as though stricken by grief. Finding no comfort in anything visible, he turns to the invisible and receives it readily, and sincerely takes it for himself, and himself to it. Many, with the question of what all this will lead to, left everything and changed not only their feelings and behavior but their entire way of life. There were cases when such dissatisfaction was expressed chiefly in the intellectual part, as in Justin the Philosopher (June 1), who especially sought the light of knowledge of Divine Being; sometimes in the emotional part, as in Augustine, who especially sought peace for his troubled heart; and sometimes, more often—in the active part, in conscience, as in the robbers Moses and David. There were many cases when suddenly the inner room of the spirit was illuminated, an inclination was kindled and drew the spirit elsewhere. “You do not know whence it comes or where it goes”, said the Lord of this (Jn 3:8). Often the spirit is awakened by remembrance of the past. Thus Mary, the niece of the Father Abraham the Recluse (October 29), was converted; a brigand student of St. John the Theologian Theophilus, the church economist, was converted. From somewhere it enters within and to conscience speaks distinctly: “Remember from what height you have fallen!”—and powerfully strikes the one who has forgotten. This can include all conversions after youthful falls. There is no doubt that even such changes are prepared from afar by God’s providence through various circumstances that dispose one to receive grace-filled action; therefore here too immediacy is only relative. But on the other hand, one must know that every grace-filled awakening reveals itself in such impulses and spiritual awakenings. Grace, though through visible mediation, always nonetheless invisibly and immediately touches the spirit and draws it from the bonds tormenting it into God’s light, into the realm of Divine life.

All means relating here are directed toward breaking the spirit’s bonds. Free the spirit, give it freedom, and it will flow by itself to where it came from—to God. The spirit’s bonds, as we have seen, are threefold, being composed of: aa) self-pleasure, bb) the world, cc) the devil. Against them are directed the destructive actions of the spirit-awakening grace.

aa) The closest bonds on the spirit are the bonds of all-embracing self-pleasure dwelling in our animal-soulish nature. They are the point of contact and of the other bonds, those coming from the world and the devil. Therefore breaking them is very important, though very difficult and complex. For since the unconverted lives entirely in his animal-soulish nature, the bonds from this side spread widely and become manifold in such a space as the animal-soulish life extends. To understand how these bonds are broken, one must consider that here that to which this life cleaves, on which it feeds, in which it is chiefly expressed, constitutes a firm support for it, on which established it stands and does not fear being struck, does not think of it and does not expect it. When someone, for instance, has become attached to artistry, or worldly success, or even learning, and lives wholly in one of them, then on it he relies and on it rests with all his thoughts, concerns, and hopes. Since from this proceeds all the subsequent self-pleasing life that binds the spirit, this support of self-pleasure naturally becomes the foundation of the strength and firmness of the bonds it imposes on the spirit, as the point to which these bonds are fastened. Therefore, conversely, to free the spirit from the bonds of self-pleasure, the awakening Divine grace ordinarily breaks the supports on which self-pleasing self rests. Shaking these supports in their foundation, it weakens the bonds and gives the tortured and exhausted spirit ability to lift its head.

The supports of our self-pleasure are many; they are both in our being—in body and soul—and in our external life and generally in our whole life order. Such are carnal pleasures in various forms—sensual gratification, luxury, lust, idleness, passion for diversion, worldly concern about many things, ambition, love of power, visible success in deeds, wealth, flattering external circumstances, value of connections, peace of external relations, attachment to artistry, learning, enterprises. All this, in the most varied forms, constitutes a firm support for our self-centered nature, which, confident in its reliability and strength, rests peacefully on it and, widely fed by it, grows day by day—in one person chiefly in one kind, in another in another.

Saving Divine grace for awakening the sinner from sleep, directing its force to breaking that support on which someone is established and rests with his self-centered nature, does the following.

Those bound by carnal pleasure it plunges into illnesses and, weakening the flesh, gives the spirit freedom and power to come to itself and become sober. Those deceived by their own beauty and strength it deprives of beauty and keeps in constant exhaustion. Those who find rest in their power and strength it subjects to slavery and humiliation. Those who place much faith in wealth, from them it takes it. Those who are conceited, are put to shame as ignorant. Those who rely on the durability of connections, from them they are torn apart. Those who relied on the permanence of the established order around them, it tears apart through the death of persons or the loss of necessary things. For those held in the bonds of carelessness by external happiness, by what else can they be made sober if not by sorrows and misfortunes? Is it not for this that our entire life is filled with calamities, so that it serves God’s intention to keep us in watchfulness?..

All such breakings of the supports of careless self-pleasure constitute the turns in life which, because they are always unexpected, act strikingly and salutarily. Most powerfully in this respect acts the sense of danger to life. This sense loosens all bonds and kills self-centered nature at its very root; a person does not know where to go. Of similar character is the tightness of circumstances or the sense of complete abandonment. Both leave a person alone with himself, and from himself, the most worthless, immediately he is led to God, or is turned around.

bb) The second bonds of the spirit are imposed by the world and lie more superficially than the first. The world, with its ideas, principles, rules, and generally with all its order raised to an unchangeable law, lays a heavy, ruling hand on all its children; as a result of which none of them dares even to think of rising against it or rejecting its power. Before it all stand in awe, with a kind of timidity they keep its rules, and they consider violation of them as a kind of criminal offense. The world is not a person, but its spirit is somehow held in the light, influences us and binds us as with bonds. Obviously, its power is mental, imaginary, not actual or physical. Consequently, one has only to dispel this imaginary power of the world—and the possibility of our becoming sober from its spell will be near. So Divine saving providence acts toward us. With this goal it:

Constantly holds before the face of the world and us two other worlds—holy, Divine—and through them and by means of them, giving attention and even causing to feel the better, persistently speaks of the emptiness of worldly life and worldly hopes. These Divine worlds are: visible nature and the Church of God. Experience shows how often a mind troubled by worldly concerns becomes sober from contemplating God’s creations or from entering the Church. One person, watching in winter a tree standing before his window, came to his senses; another, after noisy conversation, having felt the sweetness of soul’s peace in the temple, abandoned his former habits and devoted himself to God’s service. Visible nature and God’s temple not only have often enlightened and sobered careless and sinful Christians, but have even converted pagans to true knowledge of God and pleasing God. A word fell on one woman’s heart—hosanna—and made her a Christian. The conversion of our ancestors was finally established by its impact on them through the temple. The great martyr Barbara (December 6) was converted from idols to God by contemplating the beauties of visible divine creations. Their strength and influence depend on the fact that they vividly and tangibly present to the spirit wearied, exhausted, weakened, tortured by the world’s vanity a better, more blessed order of life and, momentarily pouring its joy into it, enlighten the person that in surrendering to the world’s dominion, he only torments and tortures himself, that happiness is hidden in a completely different world, and that if now communion with the world is so tormenting, what should be expected afterward? From this arises a call to God’s world and a tearing away from the vain world, which, sometimes as a powerful impulse and sometimes gradually, finally completely wrenches man’s spirit from the bonds of the world. Thus nature and the Church are drivers away, dispersers, wipers away of the enchantments of the vain and many-deceptive world. The Lord placed them in such connection with us precisely for this—so that they act more often and uninterruptedly upon us, more strikingly presenting the opposition of one life to another.

The second means of grace-filled deliverance from the bonds of the world consists in this: by the grace of God the All-Provider, another is shown in deed a life completely opposite to the one in which he moves. Here belong especially all conversions through martyrdom, and there were countless examples of this. Sometimes the martyrdom of one converted entire villages and cities. Here the presence of moral force from another, not our world is evident. Sometimes what seemed as though it ought to be defeat was not; the tortured one remains unconquered, is at peace, does not know why or how. The immediate reflection of this strikes the mind and dispels the spell of former life-orders in it. Here too belongs the conversion of the robber by King Mauritius, who instead of executing him treated him mercifully as a deserving man; the conversion of a harlot whom a mother asked to pray and return to life her only dead son; and again another harlot who came to repentance from simply watching monks humbly occupied in prayer and spiritual contemplation while she in that same house gave herself to luxury and depravity. And all conversions by the example of life belong here too. The power of their action lies in this: face to face are seen persons content and peaceful without the pleasures and comforting objects which another, abundantly possessing them, nonetheless finds neither contentment nor peace. From this comes disillusionment and change of life.

The third means of turning from the world is its shaming in the face of its own children. Julian raises himself above all, fiercely rises against Christians and threatens to destroy them by his might, but then suddenly falls. This not only established believers but converted many unbelievers to the true God. Against the holy Macarius, on false witness, a whole village rises, beats him, tears him apart, imposes punishment: the world has triumphed; but then the truth is revealed, shames all and returns all to reverence and fear of God. Here belong all instructions through the falls and unexpected deaths of the powerful and great of the world. The shaming of the world here humbles it before the face of its followers, exposes its powerlessness and thereby, on one hand, turns away from it, on the other—gives courage to resist it.

Often, finally, the world itself presses and drives out from itself as though by itself, namely in that it does not satisfy or shames expectation. We seek happiness; in the world there are indeed only glory, honor, power, wealth, delights—but nothing of the sort satisfies the seeker. A thoughtful person quickly notices the deception and takes to reason. In God’s holy ones we see that many of them, having examined the vanity and unrest of the world, withdrew from it and decisively dedicated themselves to God. The prodigal son in the parable said: “I perish here with hunger” (Lk 15:17). cc) The third bonds of the spirit come from Satan and his spirits. They are invisible and mostly coincide with the bonds of self-pleasure and the world, which Satan strengthens by his influence and through which keeps the mind in darkness. But there is also something proceeding directly from Satan. From him comes a certain indefinite fear and dread disturbing the sinner’s soul at all times, and especially when he thinks to do good. This is almost as when a master threatens a servant when the latter begins to do something not according to his will and plans. From him come various spiritual deceptions, such as: in some excessive hope in God’s mercy without true foundations, not sobering but deepening them more and more in sin-loving; in others, on the contrary, despair; in one—doubt and unbelief; in another—self-confidence and self-justification, silencing every feeling of repentance. Yes, much, very much depends directly on Satan, though it is difficult to determine. But all sin should be referred to him as to its source, for he is the king of the sinful world. One of his cunning tricks is to hide himself, that is, to convince sinners that he does not exist, as a result of which he seizes control with ferocity in the sinful soul, attributing to nature the sinful strivings he suggests and disposing to murmur against God, who forbids the natural and commands what their strength is insufficient to endure. The enlightening Divine grace often rescued sinners from the jaws of hell through the shaming of Satan. It brought him to shame and exposed him to mockery, laying bare his powerlessness and craft. Thus he was put to shame in the face of Simon Magus, in the face of Cyprian of Antioch, and in the faces of many others. All such cases were accompanied by the conversion and enlightenment of a considerable number of the blinded. In the days of the Lord on earth, demons, the source of unbelief and doubt, became preachers of faith. And the holy martyrs, by the power of the Almighty God, often forced both father and children of lies to speak truth through idols in their temples. Such revelation of the cunning of the crafty one brings the sinner to the conviction that he is in evil and hostile hands, that he is being fooled to his own harm, that he is being deceptively led along a dark path to destruction and one wants to rejoice over it. This inevitably generates a sense of fear for his own good, caution, suspicion, aversion both to the schemer and to his inventions—vices and passions—and to the whole former life. From this it is not far to a transition to the source of truth, good, and bliss—God.

Behold the paths and means by which Divine grace acts on man’s spirit, wrenches it from the bonds of a life unsuited to it, and face to face shows another, better one, the one in which his joy and peace lie. But it is evident that all of them, by themselves, are incomplete, as though they do not tell the whole thing. For example, a thirst for something better is born: but what is this better and how to attain it? Or the fear of death and judgment shakes one—what then to do to escape the misfortune? So in all other cases. They are mute: to all of them must be added still a supplementary and completing means. This is the word, or preaching. God’s Word, in its various forms, indeed accompanies all the shown means, clarifying them and pointing to their ultimate goal. Without it, it leaves a person still in a certain undefined state and, consequently, does not produce all that should. Thus the Apostle Paul was enlightened by a heavenly appearance. But the Lord did not accomplish everything in him here; He said: “Go to Ananias and he will tell you what to do” (see: Acts 9:6). Justin the Philosopher, Barbara the great martyr, Prince Ioasaph saw falsehood, but to know truth they needed special guides and interpreters. Therefore the Lord the Provider has established as law: “to preach to all” everywhere “that they may repent” (cf.: Acts 17:30). Faith comes from hearing, consequently “by the Word of God” (Rom 10:17). And this word from the Apostles through their successors is proclaimed now in all corners of the earth. And here lies the essential need of proclamation—the telling of the general, saving order of God, the necessity of the general knowledge of the persons and place to which the awakened one should turn for interpretation so as not to lose his awakening in vain or to avoid wandering with it at crossroads, exhausting his strength and time fruitlessly. Catechetical teaching must be constantly heard (and indeed is heard) in the Church. The faithful standing will be built up more and more thereby; and the fallen and awakened will immediately have a reliable guide. How precious is the duty of priests to proclaim in season and out of season the saving paths of God, not relying on general knowledge, mostly presumed!..

But God’s Word not only completes all the shown means but replaces them. It awakens more fully and more clearly. By its kinship with our spirit, likewise proceeding from God, it enters within, to the division of soul and spirit, vivifies the latter and sows it for the bearing of fruit of spiritual life (whence the word is called seed). The awakening power of the word is all the more significant in that it acts at once on all of man, on his whole makeup—body, soul, and spirit. The sound or articulation of the word strikes the ear, thought occupies the soul, and the invisible, hidden energy in it touches the spirit, which, if it heeds, after the word has happily passed through both body and soul—these crude barriers—awakens and, coming into tension, breaks the bonds holding it.

God’s Word awakens by the very means shown; namely: either by the most vivid presentation to consciousness of Divine order, or by the introduction into it of our spirit through the breaking of the barriers holding it. For example, an old servant said in simplicity to his sick master: “However much you struggle, master, you will have to die,” and thereby awakened him to repentance. Another read under an image of the crucified Lord: “Behold what I did for you; what do you do for Me?” and awoke from sleep. Holy Pelagia heard about death, judgment, and the bitter fate of sinners and abandoned sinful life. Prince Vladimir Equal-to-the-Apostles was converted by a description of the entire Divine order, from the creation of the world to the end of all things, the Dread Judgment and the eternal fate of the good and evil. And generally the preaching of the holy Apostles and all the preachers of the Gospel after them consisted in the simple, without speculations, presentation of truth. The holy Apostle Paul says of himself that his word and preaching were not in persuasive words of human wisdom but in simple telling of the work of salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, crucified on the cross (see: 1 Cor 2:2–4). And this, one might say, is the most natural means of action through the word—to depict truth as it is, not blocking it with mental reasoning and especially with suppositions about probability. Truth is akin to the spirit. Simply and sincerely told, it will find it; surrounded by images, figuratively expressed and adorned, it will remain in fantasy; clogged with reasonings and proofs, it will be held back in the intellect or soul, not reaching the spirit and leaving it idle. One might say that all the fruitlessness of preaching depends on the mental speculations with which it is stuffed. But explain truth simply, reveal what it consists in—and the spirit will be overcome. A Jew read the Gospel—and was converted, for he saw truth in the simple Gospel narrative. Generally, many free-thinkers were converted by living consciousness of Divine things, according to the indication of God’s word—living or written. Truth scatters the darkness of vain thoughts, refreshes the soul, illuminates the spirit. It would be very beneficial to often use in general conversation a brief review of how everything began, how it will end, and why.

On the other hand, by the power of the word, often the barriers of the spirit are broken and freedom is given to it. Thus Saint Anthony the Great heard the word about the worthlessness of earthly goods—and abandoned everything. One youth heard a sermon about the prodigal son—and repented. By depicting the vanity of life and worldly things, many saints even on the marriage bed persuaded their spouses to a chaste, pure life. Generally, the presentation of Divine order—on one hand, and the revealing of various enchantments—on the other, fill the soul with fullness of saving knowledge, or clear and convincing knowledge of the path of salvation, against which the stubbornness of the heart rarely can stand. Very many, if they do not act as they should with effort but remain in sleep and carelessness, do so because they do not know saving truths or know them incompletely. Fullness of knowledge is victorious, for then there is nowhere for the deceitful heart to hide.

By virtue of this all-embracing universal suitability for awakening sinners, God’s Word travels on earth and reaches our ears in manifold ways. It is heard unceasing in temples at all services and outside temples in every church order; it is in the songs and hymns of the church; it is in patristic homilies and in every soul-beneficial book; it is in soul-saving conversations and in common edifying sayings; it is in schools, pictures, and every visible object representing spiritual truths. Judging by this, we are surrounded by God’s Word, proclaimed to us from all sides. From everywhere come to us trumpet voices for the destruction of the strongholds of sin, like the walls of Jericho. In all these forms of itself, God’s Word has already shown and constantly shows its victorious power over the human heart. One should only care that the paths through which God’s Word travels be guarded and not cut off—that sincere preaching not be silenced, that services be conducted according to order and for edification, that iconography be sound and holy, singing sober, simple and reverent. The fulfillment of this lies on the servants of the altar. They are therefore in the hands of God’s Providence the most necessary and most powerful instruments for the conversion of sinners. They must understand this and not be silent not only in temples but in homes, using every opportunity—now to depict in the word God’s world, now to reveal the deceptions of our spirit through the phantoms of animal-soulish nature.

The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace

It has already been noted that among the various actions of gracious awakenings, there is one particular manner of its action worthy of special attention—the way it acts toward a sinner who has already experienced these awakenings and has fallen back into sin, a decisive fall into his customary mortal sins. The more often these lapses are repeated, the weaker the awakening becomes, because the heart grows accustomed to it, as it were, and it passes into the range of ordinary phenomena of spiritual life. Along with this diminution, it moves from being an energetic feeling, which characterizes it in its present form, increasingly toward becoming a thought, and finally passes into a simple recollection and memory. This recollection is at first accepted with agreement, then merely tolerated, though without displeasure, but coldly, without particular attention; then it becomes burdensome, and one hastens to be rid of it quickly, and finally one feels aversion and repugnance toward it; it is no longer loved but hated, pursued, driven away. Correspondingly, the conviction of the necessity of a better spiritual life falls away; at first this necessity appears merely probable; then it becomes veiled by doubts, in the form of questions about various aspects of one’s state; even further, its uselessness and superfluity becomes more than probable; finally, a decision is made within: “Live as life goes, and so one can live; everything else is unnecessary trouble.” Here a person descends into the depths of evil and neglect—a state similar to that of one who has never once received such an awakening.

It is evident that such a person’s salvation is in extreme danger. Great is God’s mercy, but even it may be powerless to do anything with such a soul, as with soil that has drunk the falling rain many times and remains barren, which has become “cursed, near to burning” (Heb. 6:8). And so it is this consequence of not standing firm in the order of life demanded by gracious awakenings that must especially be impressed upon the memory of those who need it. True, Divine grace is not bound by such measures and definitions in its actions, but it sometimes happens to accord with them. Therefore, although one must not despair of the possibility of conversion and salvation, however weak the summons to return to a good life may be, one must always think with trembling and fear about one’s state under such weakness. Have we not fallen to the last possibility of receiving gracious awakenings? Have we not blocked all the ways for Divine grace to act upon us for our desired salvation? Are these not its final approaches to us, aimed at awakening us and putting an end to the shame of our life? Therefore, as soon as such summons are weak, one must hurry to use them with the utmost firmness of intention, even though it be more rational, and strengthen them as far as freedom allows. It is evident that such effort will be nothing other than opening oneself to the invoked and sought grace, an opening, because in previous falls we more and more hardened ourselves and closed ourselves to grace, now in one way, now in another. It will be accomplished by surrendering oneself to grace by that path which will now be indicated for ascending to the energy of the first awakening, for one must think that the latter will grow together with the reception of one or another object for stirring up the sleeping spiritual movements. Thus, while the first awakened proceeds with all things vigorously, swiftly, fiercely, the latter does the work coldly, slowly, with great difficulty. Grace seems to abandon him to himself, in order to make him feel how precious is unwavering obedience to God calling, and to instill the inclination to value God’s helps. The Lord preserves the desire while not at once granting renunciation, but holds the person in the midst, in anguish, bending him neither this way nor that, in order to test his zeal and form his desire and promise of constancy. Then, having tested him, He releases him.

With these few strokes we aimed to distinguish two manners of the action of God’s grace, of which about one the Lord says: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” (Rev. 3:20), and about the other: “seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you” (Lk. 11:9). The first manner we have described; with respect to the second, the question lies before us: how to seek and what to knock on?

In extraordinary cases Divine grace shows its action swiftly and decisively, as we see, for example, in the Apostle Paul, Mary of Egypt, and others, but in the ordinary order of conversions it most often happens thus: a person receives only the thought—to change his life and become better in his deeds and inner dispositions. A thought comes—but how much must be added to it so that it might dominate the soul! Most often such good thoughts remain fruitless, not through their own fault, but through the improper attitude toward them of those whose souls they visit.

The first and chief fault in relation to them is that they are left unfulfilled, postponed from day to day. Procrastination is a common disease and the first cause of incorrigibility. Everyone says: “I still have time,” and remains in the old habits of wicked life. So, a good thought of amendment has come—seize it, attend to that for which it was sent to you, and for this purpose first of all drive out procrastination.

1) Drive out procrastination. Do not allow yourself to say: tomorrow or sometime later, I will attend to this, but rather begin the work right now. Take up sound judgment as an instrument and with its help:

Vividly picture to yourself the folly, shame, and danger of procrastination. You say: “later,” but later it will be harder to do this, because you will have grown more accustomed to sin and your sinful circumstances and bonds will have become more entangled. But what sense is there in entangling yourself more and more and holding in mind that even then, afterward, it will be just as easy for you to untangle yourself as it is now? If you recognize that you cannot remain as you are now, what delays you? After all, God can say: “You have become wearisome to me” (cf. Is. 1:14), and you yourself can cross a line beyond which there is no return. And this is such a calamity for avoiding which there is no labor that one could seriously regret. If an honest thought will take care to present all this clearly and vividly, then all the chief actors of the soul will turn away from procrastination, and within there will be no advocate for it. You will see that it acts as an enemy toward you, and you yourself will look upon it with hostility.

We procrastinate because the good thought that has visited us stands within us still only as a thought; it has not yet engaged sympathy, does not move the will. It appears among our other interests as a foreign guest, beckoning from afar, acting without force. To lead it deeper into the soul and show its value and attractiveness—that is your work. Therefore, place it in the foreground, picture to yourself its truth, show yourself the joy and exaltation that it promises, persuade yourself of the ease of its fulfillment. A good thought acts weakly and does not attract the heart because there are other plans in mind, there are objects more interesting, following the direction of influences that have preoccupied you. So call them forth into the middle and compare them impartially. In comparison with what the good thought presents, nothing can stand; everything will be pushed to a distant, far-distant background. What is indicated by the good thought will remain alone and, as the only valuable and beautiful thing, will attract.

We suffer most from procrastination because at this time we allow the energy within us to weaken, we indulge laziness, lethargy, drowsiness, irresolution in thought and in active powers; you can take yourself from this side as well by picturing to yourself, more vividly, how debasing it is to permit this in ordinary affairs, all the more in the most necessary affair of salvation—that in all things one must show oneself alive and active, it is shameful to allow the opposite, shameful to put off to tomorrow what you can and must do today.

Drive out procrastination by such and similar methods. Whoever can do this, only do it. A good thought has come—persuade yourself not to postpone its fulfillment, dispose and compel yourself to begin acting according to its guidance at once. Whoever has put off a task until the following days has nothing further to be proposed to him today.

But we assume that the good thought has been received and has held your attention. Now it is necessary to hurry to bring it to such a measure of arousal that it will be strong enough to become a lever, easily and powerfully setting in motion all that is within us. For this it is necessary to give it scope to penetrate inward, and for this it is necessary to perform, let us say, certain operations upon oneself, as the most necessary and most effective preparation for arousal.

These operations must be opposed to those subtle nets, or that order of dispositions by which a person is held back in sin. Sin entangles the soul with many nets or hides itself from it with many veils, because in itself it is shameful and at first sight could repel. The deepest veil and closest to the heart is composed of self-deception, lack of feeling, and carelessness; above it, closer to the surface, lie distraction and many cares, the chief actors that hide and nourish sin and sinful habits and ways; the very top veil is the dominance of the flesh, a veil more visible than the others, but no less powerful and significant than them.

The first veil is the essential veil. It produces the effect that a person does not see the danger of his condition and does not wish to change it. The last two are merely instruments; by them only is that sinful state manifested and sustained. When Divine grace comes, it, penetrating “to the division of soul and spirit”, strikes directly at the first veil and tears it. Under its action a sinful person suddenly becomes naked and stands before his own consciousness in all his shame. But when a person only himself seeks a gracious awakening, he must begin to act from without and stretch toward the within.

So, if you wish to properly attend to the thought that has seized you regarding the change of wicked life, begin to remove from yourself the sinful veils, as one removes layers of earth to uncover what is hidden there.

First of all, take hold of the body. Deny it pleasures and enjoyments, restrict the satisfaction of even the most natural needs; extend the hour of wakefulness, diminish the usual amount of food, add new labor to your labors. Chiefly, as much as you wish and as you are able, lighten the flesh, thin its heaviness. By this the soul will be freed from attachment to matter, will become mobile, lighter, more receptive to good impressions. Material flesh, prevailing over the soul, imparts its immobility and coldness. Physical ascetic practices weaken these bonds and remove their effects. It is true, not every sinner lives intemperately and indulges the flesh, but one can scarcely find anyone living ordinarily who does not have something to deny the flesh when the desire for salvation has taken hold of the heart. And the goal means a great deal: it changes the nature of one’s actions altogether. What you did before out of habit or for the benefit of your occupations, begin to do now, with certain changes and additions of strictness, for the sake of salvation, and you will tangibly feel the difference.

The body weighs down the soul from without; cares and scattering of thoughts exhaust it within. Let us suppose that the flesh is already subdued—this is the first step; but two barriers separate the soul from itself.

Cares do not leave time to attend to oneself. With them, one task is in hand while tens are in the head. Therefore they drive a person ever forward, not giving him the possibility to look around and examine himself. So, set aside your cares for a time, all of them without exception, set them aside only for a time; afterward you will take up your usual tasks again, only now stop them, cast them from your hands, cast them from your thoughts as well.

But even when the cares of work are stopped, the confusion still remains in the head for a long time: thought after thought, some in agreement, some in opposition; the soul is scattered, the mind wavers in different directions and thereby does not allow anything permanent and firm to settle within. Gather your scattered children into one, as a shepherd gathers his flock or as glass collects scattered rays, and turn them upon yourself.

The desire to deepen yourself and attend to yourself, by cutting off the scattering of thoughts and cares, will require, of course, as an unavoidable means, on the one hand, solitude, and on the other, the cessation of your usual occupations, both worldly and official; and the previously mentioned subduing of the flesh will require a change in the order of satisfying natural needs. Judging by this, the most convenient time for arranging a change in one’s life should be considered a time of fasting, especially the Great Fast. Everything there is arranged for it—both at home and in church, and even in society. Everyone looks at this time as preparation for repentance. However, it does not follow from this that when a good thought about changing one’s life has come, its fulfillment should be postponed until fasting arrives. Everything required for it can be fulfilled at any other time besides fasting. But certainly when the holy fast has come, it is a sin to pass it by without taking care for the salvation of your soul, as one passes by other times. If the saving thought about changing one’s life comes to you not at a time of fasting, and you find obstacles in your circumstances for putting it into practice, then for you it is best to withdraw for a time into some monastery. There you can more easily master yourself.

Now you stand at your heart. Before you is your inner person, plunged in deep sleep of carelessness, lack of feeling, and blindness. Begin to awaken him. The good thought that has come has already troubled him a little. Approach him then with greater confidence and stronger concentration of thought, gathering all your attention, begin to bring upon yourself various representations, more or less strong and striking, while adapting them, however, to your inner state.

First of all, remove from the eyes of your mind the veils that hold it in blindness. If a person does not desist from sin and does not flee from it, it is most because he does not know himself and the danger in which he finds himself because of sin. If his eyes were opened, he would flee from sin as one flees from a house seized by fire. Such blindness comes partly from inattention to oneself: a person does not know himself because he has never examined himself and never thought about himself and his moral state; but most often blindness is maintained by certain definite prejudices regarding oneself. A person himself creates a kind of network of thoughts that systematically closes him off from himself. Let these thoughts be a gossamer net, only the lightest probabilities, but the mind has no time to analyze them clearly; and here the heart speaks so loudly for their reality and truth. These are properly our moral delusions or prejudices arising from the meddling of the heart in matters of reason. This is why one must now join to deep attention a certain sobriety that excludes all flattery of the wicked heart. Let from this moment, if the heart needs to feel something, it feel it under the influence of representations of the mind, not by itself, as if running ahead; otherwise it will again make reason present things in its own way, will again subject it to itself, will again introduce disorder into concepts, and instead of illumination, will plunge into even greater blindness.

Having now placed yourself in such a position, begin to draw forth one by one the different thoughts that hold you in blindness, and subject them to strict and sincere judgment.

“I am a Christian,” you say and find peace in this. Here is the first flattery—transferring to yourself the privileges and promises of Christianity without concern for rooting true Christianity within yourself, or claiming a name for something that can only rest and be sustained by inner power and true worth. Explain to yourself that hope based on name is deceptive, that God can raise children of Abraham from stones, and at any time can cancel His promises when the conditions for sharing in them are not fulfilled. Chiefly, make clear to yourself what it means to be a Christian, compare yourself with this ideal, and you will see how solid a foundation this support of your blindness really is.

“But after all, we are not among the last; we know something, and if we undertake to consider anything, we will know how to consider it, and we conduct our affairs not blindly and not without tact, unlike others.” Thus some people are deceived by their intellectual accomplishments. Others, on the contrary, have bodily perfections staring them in the face—strength, beauty, noble birth. Both are all the more blinded the higher we stand above all in our surrounding circle. Convince yourself:

That natural accomplishments do not have moral worth at all, because they are not our acquisition but are given to us by God; all the more so in Christianity is everything natural without value because of the corruption of nature in the fall. Sanctify your good by faith in Christ the Savior and a life according to this faith, and then look upon it as good.

Again—have you done everything that you can and must do according to your gifts? You are accountable for more because you have been given more. It is not about abilities but about their use. Show what you have acquired with them. Does the gain correspond to the expenditure incurred?

As for bodily or other accidental advantages, there is nothing to say. Saint Chrysostom in one place presents a person who praises another for being handsome, well-formed, rich, having a fine house, riding in finely harnessed horses, and so forth, and then addresses him with such speech: “What, did you tell me nothing about the man himself? Everything you said is not him.”

And do not look at others; let them be by themselves. Each will give an account for himself. Look at yourself and, cutting yourself off from others, judge yourself alone without comparison with others. Or if you really wish to compare yourself with someone, compare yourself with the holy saints. They are the living law of Christianity, or the living model of those who are saved. By them, if you judge yourself, you will not err.

“We are not yet so bad: it seems we do not misbehave, and others look at us not as bad people, do not deprive us of their respect and attention, and moreover not just ordinary people but important ones as well.” The densest darkness of the veil of blindness by the respectability of outward behavior and outward relations! Make clear to yourself, more impressively, that the outward is worthless without the inward. Outward propriety of conduct is leaves; good inner dispositions are fruit. The fig tree promised fruit with its leaves, but the Savior, not finding them on it, cursed it. Such, too, before the face of Him is everyone outwardly correct without a sincerely good and God-fearing heart. “Son, give me your heart,” says the Lord through Wisdom (Prov. 23:26). From the heart come both all good and all evil. What you are in your heart, such you are before the face of the Lord. If you are proud in your heart, then no matter how much you feign humility outwardly, the Lord sees you as proud. So it is with everything else. And the judgment of others is deceptive flattery. Others do not know us and treat us well either by supposing us good or by following the law of propriety. Is it not the case that those around us see evil in us but do not hint at it for their own reasons? Is it not often the case that some, seeing evil in others, praise them for it and thereby stir up a spirit of recklessness in evildoing; and the foolish listener has gone ever deeper and deeper into evil and wickedness, because when a person sees smiles of pleasure in those around him for his deeds, he remains in evil with a certain self-satisfaction? Let us not suffer the same fate if we are so ready to lend our ear only to the judgments others have of us!…

“But suppose there is evil in me—am I the only one like this? So is this one and that one, even and such a one. And how many can be found who are bad, even worse than me…” We blind ourselves with the commonness of sin around us. Make clear to yourself that the multitude of those who sin does not change the law of righteousness and does not free anyone from accountability. God does not look to numbers. Even if all have sinned, He will punish all. The number of people born before the flood was vast, yet all perished except eight souls, and with Sodom and Gomorrah five cities were devoured by fire from heaven, and no one was saved except Lot with his daughters. And in hell the torments will not be lighter because many will be found there tormented; on the contrary, will not the sufferings of each be intensified as well? With such and similar reasonings, hasten to dispel the darkness of prejudicial thoughts that hold you in blindness and prevent you from looking at yourself as you should. Make it your goal in this first work upon yourself to bring yourself to doubt and wavering regarding the safety of your condition. You will reach this naturally when you begin to take away one by one the supports on which our blindness falsely rests, when little by little you will begin to destroy empty hopes in yourself and in anything of your own, when little by little you will begin to smash “the opinion about the forgetting of sins,” that is, the inclination always and in everything to justify yourself. Assure yourself that your Christianity is worthless if you are wicked, that your accomplishments expose you more than they justify you, that your outward propriety is abominable playacting when your heart is not right, that neither the praise of others, nor the breadth of fellowship in wrongdoing will hide you from God’s judgment and wrath. Little by little you will separate yourself in thought and become alone—alone before the eyes of mind and conscience, which will speak powerfully against you, especially after you have compared yourself with what you ought to be in Christ and found that you have fallen far from your prototype. Consequently, if your conscience does not deceive itself before itself, it is natural for you to be afraid for yourself. Cut off, as it were, from all and deprived of all supports, you must be struck by a feeling of hopelessness and fear for yourself. You must bring the mentioned work upon your blindness to precisely this point in every way. The awakening of this feeling is always the vestibule to the flight from sin, as on a battlefield the wavering of enemy ranks is a sign of their coming flight.

As soon as there is thus produced even a slight movement of the feeling of one’s sinfulness and danger in remaining in it, deepen yourself further and with even greater concentration of thought strike yourself with some threatening and sobering representations; shake and soften your unfeeling heart as a heavy hammer softens hard stone.

Remember your last things. Say to yourself: “Alas, soon death.” One person, then another dies around you; your hour will come soon. Do not put far from yourself the hour of death, convince yourself that the Angel of death is already sent, is coming, has drawn near. Or picture yourself as a person with a sword above his head, ready to strike him. Then vividly picture to yourself what will happen to you in death and after death. “Judgment is at the door.” Your secret things will be exposed before the Angels and all the saints. There, before the face of all, you will be alone with your deeds. By them you will either be condemned or justified. And what is heaven, and what is hell?.. In heaven—blessedness that cannot be described; in hell—torment without solace and without end; upon it is the seal of God’s decisive rejection. Receive all this in your feeling and compel yourself to dwell in it until fear and dread fill you.

Then turn to God and place yourself, defiled and burdened with many sins, before His face—He who is present everywhere, all-knowing, all-merciful, long-suffering!.. Will you still insult the eye of God with the vile sight of your sinful self? Will you still turn ungraciously your back toward Him who sustains you in every way? Will you still stop your ears before the fatherly voice mercifully calling you? Will you still turn away the hand stretched out to receive you?.. Receive in your feeling this incongruity and hasten to awaken and strengthen within yourself compassion and sorrow before God.

Remember besides that you are a Christian, redeemed by the Blood of Christ, washed by the water of baptism, having received the Holy Spirit, you are at the Table of the Lord and nourished by His Flesh and Blood. And all this has been trampled by you for the sake of sin, which destroys you!.. Ascend mentally to Golgotha and understand what your sins cost… Will you still wound the head of the Lord with the thorns of your sins? Will you still crucify Him on the cross, pierce His side, and mock His long-suffering? Or do you not know that in sinning you participate in the torment of the Savior and will share the fate of those who torment Him, and if you cast off sin and repent, you will share the power of His death? Choose one of two: either crucify and perish eternally, or be crucified with Him and inherit eternal life with Him.

Consider further what sin is, to which you cling so. It is evil, the most calamitous of all evils; it separates us from God, disorients the soul and body, subjects to the torments of conscience, exposes to God’s punishments in life, in death, and after death, casts into hell, closing paradise forever. What a monster we love!.. Receive in your feeling all that is evil from sin and strive to abhor it and turn away from it.

Finally, look at sin from the side of the devil, its first producer and multiplier, and consider whom you serve through sin. God has done and does everything for you, and you do not wish to please Him; the devil does nothing for you and only tyrannizes you through sin, and you eagerly and tirelessly serve him. You befriend him through sin, while he hates you through it. He entices to sin with the promise of pleasure from it; but he torments and tears at those who fall into sin. Here he suggests that sins are nothing; but there he will present them for your condemnation as important points. He trembles with malicious joy when someone falls into the nets of sin and remains in them. Consider all this and arouse in yourself hostility toward this man-hater and his works.

When thus you will thrust into your heart one after another crushing and softening feelings—now dread and fear, now sorrow and compassion, now aversion and hatred—it will little by little warm and come into motion, and with it will begin to come into motion and strain the weakened will. As currents of electricity impart to a body a certain tenseness and arousal, or as the morning, pure and cool air imparts a certain freshness and mobility, so these feelings, filling the soul, will arouse its sleeping energy, will recreate the impulse and readiness to act for exit from its dangerous position. These will be the first beginnings of active care for its salvation. Hasten then from this moment even more decisively.

2) Drive away the sleep of carelessness. The will has grown weak in good through long remaining in sin—gather around it such thoughts as ordinarily arouse energy: present on the side of good salvation’s efficacy, its exaltation, universality, ease of fulfillment and of removing obstacles, joy ready at this very moment, and chiefly necessity; and on the side of sin—everything opposite to this; discuss this with yourself at length and sincerely until you rouse yourself and bring yourself to a keen tension, ready to take to work immediately. Say to your soul:

It is one of two: either perish eternally if you remain thus, or if you do not wish this, then repent and turn to the Lord and His commandments. And why delay? The further, the worse. Guard yourself, for death is at the door.

How much labor is there? Only begin, only move. The Lord is near, and all help from Him is ready for you.

And what good!.. You will cast off this burden and these chains, you will enter into the freedom of the children of God.

Why do you torment yourself as if you were an enemy? Neither day nor night do you see peace. Everywhere confusion and alarm. Make just one turn within, and all this will disappear; you will see the joy of life.

Look, everyone has already gone to the Lord… and this one converted, and that one, and another. Why do you stand? Go! Are you worse than others?

Everything around you lives and everything calls you to life. God is not the God of the dead but of the living. Join yourself also to those who live His life. Go, drink from the springs of living water.

The energy of a weakened will is always aroused when a person places himself between extremes—either perish or change life. The feeling of self-preservation immediately begins to arouse to action. Then point out how great a good awaits from changing life for the better, how easy it is to do this, and how you are capable of it and called to it, and have all means at hand; how all the good, both on earth and in heaven, will be gladdened, will enter into communion with you, will take you into their arms, and joy will go forth in a common life with all those who live by Christ Jesus our Lord—point out all this, and the weakened will shall arise, the paralyzed knees shall be straightened.

Working thus upon yourself, you will increasingly drive away your blindness, lack of feeling, and carelessness. But work, and work without slackening. There is craftiness in the sinful soul, in that it avoids in every way the labor of working for salvation. Come, take it and carry it; it will not resist—it simply does not wish to labor itself. No one can be master in your inner being except yourself. You yourself enter into yourself and break yourself, strike yourself, teach yourself; you yourself conduct the matter with yourself before the face of God; you yourself persuade and convince yourself. That is why reasoning with oneself, in the matter of conversion, one might say, is the only gateway to it. For if you yourself do not reason with yourself and think things through, who will do it for you? That is why you are told: “Consider this, present this, penetrate into this and that.”

One can judge from this what a great good it is for a sinner if corruption has not yet managed to extinguish in him the light of knowledge of truth altogether. Let his nature be spoiled, let his feelings be unclean, but if sound concepts remain in his soul—there is still something for one to seize hold of who has begun to think about salvation. When even these are lost, when the mind is corrupted too—either falling into doubt, losing conviction, or accepting completely perverted teachings—then there is nothing left for a person to act upon himself; then one must recognize that from head to foot there is no wholeness in him. Rarely, however, do people reach such a state. And those who reach it, if there is a possibility of conversion for them, are converted by extraordinary and striking actions of God’s grace. The greater part of sinners do not lose faith or the pattern of sound words, according to the Apostle; they are only morally corrupted. For such, it is enough to clarify by recollection the darkened concepts and restore the weakened conviction in them—due to negligence and carelessness about every good. Sit down and yourself review everything that you ought to believe, how to live, and what to hope for according to the Creed and the commandments of the Lord. If you have difficulties, review the catechism; if you cannot even do that, speak with someone, better yet with your spiritual father. When you do this, the conquering truth will arise victorious within you—and will begin with power to press down the unrighteousness that has taken hold of you in deeds, dispositions, and feelings. Then it will be easy for your reasoning—both to unmask your blindness and to strike your lack of feeling and to drive away your carelessness.

When so many subjects are indicated upon which you must reason with yourself, it should not be thought that only the learned can fulfill this. Reasoning with oneself about salvation everyone can conduct, even a child. It is not scholarly reasoning. Every truth brought to mind at once suggests what it requires. Only be sincere and awaken a genuine desire for good for yourself, with readiness to follow the indications of truth.

But your reasoning must be conducted in every way so that it is fitted to the goal—to act upon the soul and arouse it. For this:

When you reason, do not intellectualize by posing various questions, but rather, once you have clarified the subject to yourself, turn it toward your heart from that angle which you believe will be most receptive, and contemplate it in that way.

Do not leap swiftly from one thought to another – this will scatter rather than gather, and will have little effect on the soul. The sun would not have warmed a single creature on earth if it raced across the face of it in an instant. Let your measure of reasoning about one thing or another be sympathy. Bring every thought to feeling, and do not depart from it until it penetrates your heart.

If you can, do not leave a thought bare, in purely rational form, but clothe it in some image and carry that image in your mind afterward as a constant awakener. It is best of all if you can concentrate several striking representations in a single image. Thus, to imprint in a sinner’s mind the thought of the danger of his position, Saint Tikhon says: “Above you – the sword of righteousness; beneath you – hell, ready to devour you; ahead – death; behind – a multitude of sins; to your right and left – crowds of malicious enemies: should you be carefree?…” An image is more easily remembered and retained in the mind; it acts more powerfully and touchingly.

Gather brief but powerful sayings suited to your state, and then repeat them to yourself more often mentally or in spoken words. For example: “The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s manger, but you? Or do you not care about the wealth of His goodness and patience?… By your hardness of heart and unrepentant heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath and righteous judgment of God. Watch, for you do not know when the Lord will come. Behold the grave lies before me; behold death stands ready. Where can I go from Your Spirit, and where can I flee from Your presence? – The wages of sin is death. The enemy, like a roaring lion, walks about. Give an account of your stewardship; to whom much has been given, much will be required; the servant who knew his master’s will will be beaten harshly; remember from where you have fallen” and so forth. Gather and memorize such sayings and strike your heart with them. Perhaps some one of them will become a flaming arrow that will pierce and set ablaze.

However, do not remain with reasoning alone, but alternate it with prayer. After all, we are doing the same thing now as when we want to uproot a tree embedded in the ground. We approach and shake it, straining the force of reasoning with ourselves, persuading ourselves, convincing ourselves. We shake it, but cannot pull it out – the roots are embedded deeply. We lack the power for this; we lack the power even to cut through these roots. So seek help!

If during reasoning some feeling falls upon your heart, or some compunction stirs – stand and pray. Pray that God will sanctify your labors over your hardened heart, that He will give some thought of yours the power to destroy and to build, or that He Himself would come and soften it, awaken it, wound it.

In this prayer, pray yourself; speak what is on your soul, and reveal your own vital need confidently in simple, childlike, brief words, or better yet without words, so cast yourself before God in painful turning to Him.

Do not intellectualize, do not compose prayers. Approach in simplicity, with only your need, like the sick to a physician, like the captive to a liberator, like the paralyzed to a healer, with sincere confession of your weakness and powerlessness to overcome yourself, and with surrender of yourself to the all-powerful action of God.

Fall prostrate, make many, many prostrations, strike your breast. And do not depart from prayer while prayer continues to stir. Let prayer cool, then take up reasoning again, and from that again return to prayer.

And for prayer, as for reasoning, gather brief invocations to God and repeat them more often: “Spare Your creation, Master! – God, have mercy on me a sinner! – O Lord, save us! O Lord, grant us success!” Recall the rousing hymns of the Church and sing them: “Behold the Bridegroom comes… I, the wretched one, trembling at the multitude of evil deeds I have done, fear the dreadful day of judgment. My soul, my soul, arise! Why do you sleep?” – and similar ones…

In this way, laboring, knock unceasingly at the doors of God’s mercy.

What do we seek through laboring? The grace of God that awakens. God’s grace is accustomed to choosing certain means for its action upon us, as is said in the description of extraordinary workings of grace. Therefore, apply these means to yourself and walk under their protection and influence. Will not some ray of grace fall upon you as well, just as it fell upon other sinners like you?

God’s grace chose temples of God and church order for its action. Go to church yourself and patiently, attentively, and reverently endure the sacred rites. Both the appearance of the church and its arrangement, and the order of the services, and the singing and reading – all of this can have an effect. And it is no wonder that, having entered the church empty, you may leave it having grasped the spirit of salvation.

Grace worked through the Word of God. Take it for yourself and read it. Perhaps you will encounter such a place that will pierce you, just as it pierced Augustine, to whose eyes it fell when he opened the New Testament.

The hearts of other sinners were softened through conversation with godly people. Go and converse yourself. Word by word in conversation – will not such a word fall on you that will reach even to the division of soul and spirit, judging the thoughts and intentions of the heart? Perhaps a living word, warmed by love, will penetrate to the depths of your heart and shake the strongholds of sin that have formed there.

Prayer of the poor has proven powerful. Go and increase your almsgiving yourself, wipe away the tears of the unfortunate, restore those whom you can if they are in ruin. The prayerful cry of the beggar reaches heaven and passes through the heavens of heavens. Will it not bring to you as well an angel-guide, as it brought to Cornelius the centurion?

Going about in these and similar works, you will be touching vessels and bearers of grace. Perhaps some vivifying dew of it will fall upon you from somewhere, and will revive the frozen sprouts of spiritual life in you.

So, when the thought of correction of your life and character has come, put aside procrastination, distress and ease your flesh through bodily ascetical labors, set aside cares and distractions by temporarily ceasing your usual activities and withdrawing into solitude, and then, gathering yourself inwardly through attention, press yourself through various saving thoughts to dispel blindness, insensibility, and carelessness by means of reasoning with yourself or speaking with your own soul, alternating it with prayer and placing yourself under the influence of such circumstances which divine grace has already chosen as a means for its action upon the souls of sinners.

Labor, strain yourself, seek – and you will find; knock – and it will be opened to you. Do not weaken or despair. But in all this remember that these labors constitute only attempts of effort on our part to draw grace, not the actual work itself which we are seeking. The main thing is lacking – gracious awakening. It is very evident that whether we reason, pray, or do something else, we are, as it were, forcing something foreign into our heart from without. It happens that corresponding to the force of our strain, some effect of these labors descends to a certain depth in the heart, but then rises back out again, because of some elasticity of the disobedient and unaccustomed heart, just as a stick thrown vertically into water springs back out. Immediately after this, coldness and dullness come to the soul again – a clear sign that there was no gracious action here, but only our labor and our effort. Therefore, do not rest content with these works alone and do not rely on them as if they were what you seek. That would be a dangerous delusion! It is equally dangerous to think that in these labors lies merit for which grace must necessarily be sent. Not at all! This is only preparation for receiving; the actual bestowal depends entirely on the will of the Giver. Therefore, in diligent use of all the foresaid means, the seeker should still walk, awaiting God’s visitation, which, however, does not come under observation, and no one knows where it comes from.

When this awakening grace comes, only then will the true inner work of changing life and character begin. Without it, no success can be expected – there will be only unsuccessful attempts. Blessed Augustine is the witness to this, who labored long over himself, but overcame himself only when grace overshadowed him. Labor while waiting, in firm hope. It will come – and will arrange everything.

It is natural then to ask: what is gracious awakening? Into what state does it place a sinful person? And how does that state differ from other similar states? One must know the characteristic marks of awakening in order not to miss it fruitlessly and not to mistake some natural state for it. The state of a soul awakened by grace is determined by contrast to the state of a soul lulled asleep by sin:

Sin separates God and man. A man, departing from God toward sin, does not feel his dependence upon Him; he lives as though he were not God’s and God were not his, like a willful servant who has fled from his master. Now this partition is broken down.

The feeling of dependence upon God returns. A man vividly senses his complete subjection to God and his full responsibility before Him. Before, the heavens were to him like brass and stretched above his head like a thick veil, but now some ray passes through this dark veil and shows him God, the Master and at the same time the Judge. There awakens in him with force a feeling of Divinity, with all His perfections, and stands irresistibly in the soul, filling it entirely. This is the foundation and possibility of future gracious spiritual life.

Before, sin had wrapped a man in blindness, insensibility, carelessness. In the moment of grace’s action, this three-layered hardened scale falls away from the soul bound by it. A man now clearly sees all his own deformity within, and not only sees but also feels it. At the same time he becomes aware of the danger of his position, begins to fear for himself, and to care about his fate. And not only does fear fall into the soul, but with the sense of responsibility before God, fear, anguish, vexation, shame begin to strike his heart powerfully. His conscience torments him.

But at the same time he is given some taste of sweetness in living by God. Feeling all the unworthiness of sinful life and cherishing revulsion toward it as a sea of evil, he at the same time has a foretaste that in the realm of good now opened to his spiritual eye are hidden comfort and solace. It appears to him as a promised land, as the most blessed and safest place from all troubles. This foretaste is precisely such a manifestation in a sinful soul which a man cannot produce by himself. It consists of God’s blessings and is within His power. To think about them is not the same as to feel them. God Himself leads the spirit of a man into His treasure house and gives it to taste from its blessings.

Notice how necessary is this action of God’s goodness on the path of liberating the soul from the realm of sin. The purpose of gracious awakening and its power lie in the fact that it draws man out of the bonds of sin and places him at a point of indifference between good and evil. The scales of our will, in which it inclines now toward one side and now toward the other, must now stand in balance. But this will not happen if the sinner is not given to taste, at least in foretaste, the sweetness of good. If this is not given, then the sweetness of sin, as already experienced, would draw him to it more strongly than good, and the choice would always fall toward the latter, as it does in intentions to change life without gracious awakening. For this is a common law: ignoti nulla cupido – that is, what you do not know, you do not desire. But when, in gracious awakening, he is given to taste the sweetness of good, then it too begins to draw him to itself, as already experienced, known, and felt. The scales are equal. In man’s hands lies full freedom of action.

In this way, like the flash of lightning, everything in man and around him is illuminated at gracious awakening. He is now led by the heart, for one moment, into that order from which sin has expelled him, inserted into the chains of creation into that bond from which he willfully tore himself away by sin. That is why this action of grace is almost always marked by fear and sudden upheaval, like the sudden “stop!” startles one hurrying along in thought. If one looks at this state from psychological concepts, it is nothing other than an awakening of the spirit. Properly speaking, it is the nature of our spirit to sense Divinity and a higher realm or order of things, to elevate man above everything sensory and carry him away into a purely spiritual realm. But in sinful condition our spirit loses its strength and becomes fused with the soul, and through it with the senses, to such a degree that it seems to disappear in them. Now by grace it is drawn out from there, placed, as on a lampstand, in the inner chamber of our being, and shines on all that exists there and is seen from there.

The state into which the soul is placed in gracious awakening resembles many natural states, but should not be confused with them.

In gracious state, a man is in a kind of tormenting, sorrowful state of discontent with himself and his position: however, this is not the same as tedium. In tedium there is no definite object: a man grieves and is sad, not knowing himself why and about what; on the contrary, in gracious awakening there is a definite object of sorrow, namely: the offense to God and defiling of oneself. That is of the soul, this is spiritual; that is tormenting, dark, deadening – which is why they say “Melancholy chokes” – while this enlivens and awakens. In our usual life there are plenty of those undefined longings, each with its own shades. Among them is worthy of special note a longing for the heavenly homeland, a feeling of discontent with everything created, a feeling of spiritual hunger. And this is one of the natural impulses of our spirit. When the passions little by little fall silent, it raises its cry, distinctly echoing in the heart, about the constrained and humiliated state in which it is held, why it is not nourished with what it should be, but is tormented by hunger. This is longing for homeland, a sigh which the Apostle heard in all creation (see: Rom. 8:22). However, this too is not the same as gracious awakening. It is one of the natural impulses or operations of our spirit and one by itself is silent and barren. Gracious awakening descends upon it and imparts to it clarity and life.

In gracious awakening there is shattering of the spirit, awakening of the troubles of conscience; however, this is altogether not the same as the ordinary chagrin at oneself for failings in our life, more or less significant. We are tormented when we misspeak, or do things wrongly, and in general in all cases where, as they say, we bring shame on ourselves; we even say then: “Oh, how shameful!” But this is altogether not the same as the voice of conscience in the spirit, now heard. There a man has in view only himself and his temporal relations, while here, on the contrary, he completely forgets himself and everything temporal and sees only God offended and his eternal relations disordered. There he stands up for himself and human rules, while here – for the will of God and His glory. There he grieves that he has brought shame on himself before people, while here that he has degraded himself before God, and as for people and even the whole world, he cares nothing. Then sorrow is without consolation, while here it is mingled with some comfort. For there his only support is in himself and others, and when this foundation crumbles, he has nowhere to turn, while here everything is from God, by Whom he does not expect to be rejected, but puts his hope in Him. And our ordinary shames imitate the acts of true conscience: one can say they too are acts of conscience, only distorted, brought down from its proper station. Together with the spirit, it too has fallen from its proper height, from the spiritual realm, and has fallen into the hands and power of soul-fleshedness, and has begun to serve only earthly ends, has become, as it were, a worldly conscience, which feels the offense to man more strongly than to God.

In gracious awakening, the heart is given to feel some other, better, more perfect, more consoling life; however, this is altogether not the same as what happens to those who feel an awakening of bright impulses and noblest aspirations (one might call it a movement of ideas). These phenomena are similar in that they elevate above the ordinary order of things and urge toward the realization of what is instilled; but they diverge widely in direction and purpose. The latter point to some vague realm, while the former turns to God, in Him points to rest and gives a foretaste of it. The purpose of the former is life in God with eternal blessedness, while in the latter there is in view something, of course, always great and special, but of which nothing more can be said except “something.” The most striking difference between them is that the latter are interrupted and act singly: the spirit awakens here in one person from one side – in another from another; the former, however, embraces the whole spirit on all sides, and placing it at its goal, satisfies it or gives a foretaste of complete satisfaction in this order. The impulses of higher strivings of the spirit are remnants of the image of God in man – the image broken, and therefore they manifest themselves like broken and scattered rays. One must gather these rays into one, so to speak concentrate them, and then at the focus a ray is formed that ignites. It is this, so to speak, concentration of the rays of the spirit, individual in itself, but broken up in the manifold soul, that awakening grace produces, and it kindles the fire of spiritual life, not placing a man in cold contemplation, but in a kind of vivifying burning. Such a gathering of the spirit into one is found in the feeling of Divinity: there is the germ of life. So also in nature: as long as its forces act in fragmented fashion, there is no life, but as soon as a higher force gathers them into one, immediately a living being appears, for example a plant. So also in the spirit. As long as its strivings break forth in fragmented fashion – now one, now another, and one in one direction and another in another – there is no life in it. When a higher, Divine force of grace, acting at the same time on the spirit, brings all its strivings into one and holds them in this unity – then the fire of spiritual life.

By such signs it is easy to distinguish gracious awakening from ordinary phenomena of spiritual life in man, in order not to confuse them and, most importantly, not to miss using it for one’s salvation. This is especially necessary to know by those upon whom God’s grace acts without their previous labors and not with special force. One cannot let the state of awakening pass unheeded, but one can fail to give it proper attention and, having been in it, descend again into the usual cycle of movements of soul and body. Awakening does not complete the work of a sinner’s conversion, but only begins it, and after it lies labor over oneself, and very complex labor. All that pertains to this, however, is accomplished in two turns of freedom: first in movement toward oneself, and then from oneself toward God. In the first, man recovers the lost power over himself, and in the second, he offers himself as a sacrifice to God – a sacrifice of the complete burning of freedom. In the first he reaches resolution to abandon sin, and in the second, drawing near to God, he vows to belong to Him alone all the days of his life.

Ascent to resolution to abandon sin and devote oneself to pleasing God

Ascent to Resolution to Abandon Sin

Whether grace visits someone of its own accord or someone seeks it and finds it – the state into which it places a man in its first action upon him is the same in either case. The one awakened is placed by grace in a middle ground between sin and virtue. It draws him out of the bonds of sin, depriving sin of the power to determine his action, as though by force, but does not transfer him to the side of good; it only gives him to feel its superiority and consolation with a sense of obligation to be on its side. Man now stands as if at a crossroads, and he faces a decisive choice. Saint Makarios of Egypt says that grace coming to him (man) “does not bind his will with constraining force and does not make him unchanging in good, whether he wishes it or not. On the contrary, the divine power present in man gives place to freedom, so that the will of man may be revealed, whether it agrees with grace or not” (Discourse 1. On Guarding the Heart, Ch. 12). From this moment begins the union of freedom with grace. Grace worked from without – and it remains without. It enters within and begins to possess parts of the spirit in no other way than when man by his desire opens it an entrance into himself, or opens his mouth to receive it. If man desires it – grace is ready with help. Man himself cannot do or confirm good in himself, but desires it and strains; and for this deed, grace strengthens in man the desired good. Everything will proceed thus until man’s ultimate victory over himself for the purpose of good and pleasing God.

All that one must do in this labor over oneself, or how to come to resolution, is the same as ordinarily happens when we resolve on some deed or undertaking. Ordinarily, after a thought to do something is born, we incline toward that thought with desire, remove hindrances, and resolve. So too in resolution on Christian life, one must: a) incline toward it with desire, b) remove obstacles within the formation of resolution, and c) resolve. Although the action of grace places the spirit in an awakened state, still, grace’s prompting to change life is only a thought, though more or less living: “Should I not abandon sin?” or “I must abandon it.” One awakened from sleep sees that it is time and he must rise, but to rise he must exert special efforts, make special movements with different parts of his body. He strains his muscles, throws off what covers him, and rises.

So, having felt gracious awakening in yourself, hasten to incline your will toward its demands; agree with its prompting that you, answerable before God and unclean, must absolutely reform yourself and start this right now.

One who sought gracious help and now feels its visitation should have such a desire – it has already guided him in all the labors indicated; but to its composition, or to its perfection, something is added here. There is mental desire: the mind demands, and man compels himself; such desire directs the preparatory labors. There is heartfelt desire; it is born under the action of gracious awakening. There is, finally, active desire – the agreement of will to right now begin the work of rising from falls; it must be formed now, after gracious awakening. And this is the first deed of one awakened after the awakening.

That not every awakened person proceeds to the work of changing life for the better is known to everyone, just as not every person awakened from sleep immediately rises, but sometimes falls asleep several more times.

Gracious awakening, on the one hand, places a man in a favorable and living state, and on the other presents demands that are quite constraining. Whoever now inclines more to the first side can allow himself flights of thought and prematurely surrender to the joy of life, as though everything he should have is already his. This indulgence allowed to himself does not give him a chance to turn proper attention to what has happened, and the inner scattering that accompanies it will soon chill – and the favorable time and state are missed. Again the usual dullness sets in, in which you cannot master yourself. Whoever, on the contrary, inclines more to the second side, can allow himself to free himself somewhat from this constraint, like a child removing a bandage from a wound with healing plaster simply because it is tight. In this, some, to disperse what seem to them gloomy thoughts, turn to what seem to be innocent diversions, conversations, reading, while another subjects the born tormenting feeling to examination, in order to discover why and how it could have formed. There – external impressions, while here the dissolving action of examination erases the saving change that has occurred within. From this, he too finally lapses into the usual, immobile dullness.

It seems it should not happen, but it does, because gracious awakenings are found in different degrees, and the circumstances in which they come can be such that they overshadow the importance and value of their appearing within. Wise grace permits this, testing the free will of man. That is why we say: as soon as you felt the grace of awakening, recognized that it is it and not something else, hasten to incline your will toward its promptings. And for this:

Believe with simplicity of heart that this is from God, that God Himself is calling you to Himself, that He Himself has drawn near to you to produce in you a saving change.

Believing, do not allow yourself to let this action of God’s mercy pass fruitlessly. Only this awakening gives strength to overcome yourself. If it passes away – you cannot overcome yourself alone. And will it come again – you cannot say. Perhaps this compassion is appearing to you for the last time. After it you will fall into a state of hardening, and from that – into despair and hopelessness.

Make effort and strain as much as possible to keep yourself in that saving state into which you have been placed. Like combustible matter, if held long before fire, not only becomes warm but can also catch fire, so naturally can the desire for a gracious life catch fire if you hold yourself longer under the action of grace.

Therefore, set aside everything that could extinguish this fledgling spark, and surround yourself with everything that can feed it and bring it to flame. Withdraw into solitude, pray, and reflect with yourself on what to do. That order of life, occupations and labors which has already been indicated and which you have forced yourself to practice while seeking grace, is the most favorable for prolonging its begun action in yourself. The best of them in this case are solitude, prayer, and reflection. Solitude will be more gathered, prayer deeper, and reflection more effective. Reason with yourself, go through all the thoughts which you previously gathered, trying to dispel blindness, insensibility, and negligence. Let there be no more these three now, but you must kindle desire, begin the deed right now. Direct all your action to this. Now your reasoning with yourself will not be as it was before. Without awakening it ordinarily turns to generalities; now, on the contrary, mirroring grace and under its guidance, it will apply everything directly to you yourself, without any excuses or evasions, will turn the objects to you from the sides most able to act upon you. Therefore, properly speaking, you will not so much reason in this case as pass from feeling to feeling.

In this very labor of yours over yourself with the help of grace, will finally be pronounced in your heart, audible to God alone and to you, the word: “It is necessary at last; so, I will begin right now.” It is evident that this is a conclusion; but by what laws and from what premises it is derived, no science can determine. All the objects of the preceding reasonings can be known clearly, yet the conclusion may not be there. It even happens that someone presents these objects in speech so powerfully that the effect of them brings tens and hundreds to that conclusion, while he himself does not pronounce it in his heart. And no one can say who is acting here – grace or freedom, for it happens that gracious action passes without effect and all efforts of freedom remain barren. Each combines in a manner incomprehensible to us, yet each preserves its nature. One can say thus: freedom surrenders itself, grace receives and penetrates it. From this – the power of the desire: “So, right now to work.”

Now, at last, a man has inclined toward good, is ready to enter upon this holy path, ready to walk in good works of pleasing God; but at this very moment all the abyss of evil lurking in his heart rises up, like dust, and strives again to cover his whole soul. In the moment of awakening and inclination sin is silent, as though what is happening to a man does not concern it; but now, when they want to trample upon it, it, the thousand-headed, as Saint John of the Ladder calls it, utters thousands of cries upon a man who is planning this. Just as one awakened, so long as he is still only thinking of rising, – everything in his body is calm. But as soon as he determines to rise in deed and barely strains his muscles – all the pains in his body, which had not troubled him before, now make themselves known and raise complaints. So too in one inclined toward the gracious call, the pains of sin are silent while he reaches this inclination, but as soon as he determines to proceed to the deed, all these infirmities raise an alarm – loud and confusing. Thought after thought, impulse after impulse strike the poor man and pull him back, attacking without order, embracing his soul from all sides and plunging it into their turmoil. All that is good in a man is held as if by a thread and he himself is at every moment ready to tear himself away from what he holds by and sink again into that same realm from which he wished to come out. One thing saves him – that sweetness, ease, and consolation which he was granted to taste in the moment of awakening, and that strength which he felt when he spoke in his heart: “So, I will begin right now.” Whoever has seen a small spark fluttering here and there in smoke, yet still standing for itself as it were, or a small piece of wood thrown into a churning stream, now up, now down, now right, now left, has in this image that which happens at this moment to the good desire of a man. Not in the soul alone is turmoil, but even the blood churns, there can even be a ringing in the ears and a fog in the eyes. It is easy to understand that this uprising is not from sin alone living in the heart, but especially from the father of all sins – the devil, who cannot remain calm when such a disturber appears in his kingdom. Saint Tikhon says: “When a sinner, moved by God’s grace, begins to repent, he meets various temptations. A man begins to approach Christ, but Satan pursues him and draws him away from Christ, trips him and spreads various nets.” We are told of apparitions – both fearful and delusory – which those seeking a certain flower for finding treasures encounter; this psychological myth best portrays all the efforts of the devil to draw a man away from good intention to purchase the pearl of great price or find a treasure hidden in a field.

Here there lies before a man a mighty struggle with himself, as if a general battle with sin. Here he must decisively capture and strike his enemy, step upon this serpent, bind him and exhaust all his strength. On success in overcoming sin here is founded the hope and reality of all his subsequent overcomings in his particular risings. All that takes place here cannot be determined because of the diversity of actors. The main, however, points or turns of this combat are not difficult to indicate, more, however, for the aid of the struggling than for the sake of knowledge.

It is evident that in the soul there is no point of support: it wavers, though still whole, not broken in its good intention, helped by God’s grace. And who else will support it, who will establish it? That is why now most of all it must cry out to God urgently, like one drowning cries out. The enemy has seized you and wants to swallow you – cry out as Jonah in the whale’s belly or Peter sinking. The Lord sees your need and labor – and will extend a hand of help, support and establish you as befits a warrior going forth to battle.

Here is the support! Most dangerous of all is if the soul thinks to find it in itself; then it will lose everything. Evil will overcome it again, will dim this weak light still in it, will extinguish this barely kindled spark. The soul knows how powerless it is alone; therefore, expecting nothing from itself, let it fall in abasement before God, let it transform itself in its heart into nothing. Then the all-powerful grace will make from this nothing everything in it. Whoever, in ultimate self-abasement, places himself in God’s hand, draws Him to himself, the compassionate One, and becomes strong with His strength.

Despite all this, however, you must not fall from self-abasement into spiritual weakness. While waiting for everything from God and nothing from yourself, you must yourself exert effort in action and act according to your strength, so that there is something for Divine assistance to perfect, something for Divine power to overshadow. Grace is already present, but it will work in response to your own active movements, supplementing your weakness with its power. Therefore, having taken firm ground in humble prayerful surrender of yourself to God’s will, act yourself, without relaxing.

Act against sin in general, but especially against its root causes. When all is in turmoil in the soul, and thoughts like phantoms stand and surround it, showering arrows at the very heart, it is easy to notice the chief sources of evil, so to speak. Behind the multitude of individual warriors stand there, in the rear, the commanders who issue orders, directing all arrangements and the entire course of the war. These are the root causes of sin. Direct all your attention to them, arm yourself directly against them, overcome them and destroy them. When they are defeated, the lesser warriors will scatter of their own accord.

The Savior indicated what these chief causes and chief defenders of sin are when He called us to follow Him (Mk. 8:34–38). Whoever wishes to follow Me, He said, must “deny yourself”—turn away from yourself, regard yourself as a stranger to yourself, unworthy of attention and sympathy, not worth standing up for. This presupposes that in a sin-loving heart there constantly dwells and operates the opposite disposition: self-pity, and indeed that is what it is. The sinner deals with himself as a mother with a tenderly beloved child: he cannot bear to deny himself anything, to oppose himself in anything; he cannot overcome himself to raise a hand against himself. Further, the Savior commands us to renounce all that is in the world for the salvation of the soul: “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but forfeits his soul?” (Mk. 8:36). The world is the sum of things outside us, the visible, tangible, sensible. Consequently, this command presupposes in the human heart a tendency toward material things, an appetite for the tangible, a passion to nourish and please oneself only with the visible and sensible. And truly, in the sin-lover dwells sensuality: he has no taste for the invisible and spiritual, while all that is sensible is so well-known and so thoroughly experienced. Then the Lord urges us not to be ashamed of Him in this adulterous and sinful generation. This compels us to suppose that in the sin-loving heart there is shame of people at the expense of truth and goodness. And so it is. Usually a person lives bound by the inviolability of the established order or of existing relationships; therefore he fears to disturb them and is ready to compromise truth rather than offend anyone, disrupt the connections, suffer unpleasantness. This is people-pleasing: “What will they say and how can I bear it if I have to break these ties?” This must be the most sensitive bond of sin, for to break it He threatens with shame at the judgment: “Whoever is ashamed of Me and My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will also be ashamed of him when He comes in the glory of His Father with the holy angels” (Mk. 8:38). This concluding turn toward the future age indicates in the sin-loving heart an absence of sense of future life, compels us to suppose that for him that life does not exist, and that he is wholly absorbed in the present life. And so it is. Usually a person lives on earth as if to live here forever, and forgets about the future; he knows only earthly happiness, and all his goals converge in one: to live well here, and what comes after, he gives no thought. Thus self-pity, sensuality, people-pleasing and earthliness (concern only for life on earth) are the characteristic marks of the sin-loving heart—consequently, the root causes of sin and its chief defenders. We ourselves, sinners, could never uncover these, and if the Savior had not revealed them, certainly we would not know them. Now that they are revealed, it is clear that it must be so. Man, having fallen from God, turned to himself and is punished with self-pity: this flows from the chief nature of the fall. The fallen man was torn asunder in himself, descended from spirit into flesh and is tormented by sensuality. The chief arena where sin reveals and rages is human society with its sinful people and such orders and relationships among them as nourish and sustain sin. When all goes well in these conditions of sin—that is happiness. But since such a course of affairs can only be in this age, while the future age requires something entirely different, there is no thought of it—it does not fit in the mind and finds even less sympathy in the heart.

Thus these roots of sins show themselves as the causes of all the thoughts rising up against a man when he makes a move from the realm of sin toward the side of good, they raise a whole swarm of tempting thoughts that confuse, terrify and obstruct. Self-pity cries out: “What kind of life is this? Ahead I see only labor, hardship, sorrow, deprivations with no end in sight; go as among thorns on prickly bushes with bare feet—constant wounding!” Sensuality speaks: “Abandon this thing and that, stop doing this and that—in short, all the things I enjoyed, and occupy yourself only with the spiritual! That is abstract, dry, unsatisfying, lifeless.” “What will they say? They will think it strange and shun you; meanwhile, you must break these bonds—how can you manage after? And from this side expect enmity too.” This is the cry of people-pleasing. And there is the cry of earthliness: “The future, of course, will come—who argues against that—but it is still far off, and how to live now? Others have lived… We know the earthly, but what about there? That is uncertain, but this is at hand.”

Yes, as soon as a man begins to serve the Lord, all this will cry out at him. And if only these were light thoughts—but no: they penetrate to the depths of the soul, wound and draw it toward themselves as if someone had hooked living flesh with a barb and is pulling it. What is a man to do?

Help is near. You need only make efforts—and you will overcome, but make your efforts wisely. Having prayerfully established yourself, as has been said, in humble surrender of yourself to God’s will and to the all-working grace:

Hurry to drive all these thoughts from your soul, expel them from consciousness by special exertion of your will, push them back into the hidden place from which they came and restore peace to your heart, for while the heart is not at peace, you cannot accomplish anything further. For this, at first, do not occupy yourself with them at all and do not enter into conversation with them, even if it is not peaceful. A crowd of uneducated people quickly scatters if you treat them harshly from the start; if you speak a sympathetic word to one, then another, then a third—they become emboldened and persist in their demands. So it is with the crowd of tempting thoughts: they become more insistent if you allow them to linger in the soul at all, and especially if you enter into negotiations with them. But if you thrust them back firmly from the first moment with strong exertion of will, rejection, and turning to God, they will immediately depart and leave the atmosphere of the soul pure.

But let this dark host of evil thoughts be driven away, let the heart be at peace again and the soul grow light; remember that you have actually done nothing yet for your own purposes. These enemies are still alive. They are only expelled from awareness and perhaps deliberately hiding, waiting for a favorable moment to return and reclaim their victory by surprise. No, you must not stop here, otherwise there will be neither peace nor progress. They must be put to death, drawn out and slaughtered on the altar of self-denial.

Therefore, having again established yourself in prayerful surrender to God and to His grace, call forth each of the root causes of sin and strive to turn your heart away from them and toward the opposite—thereby they will be cut off from your heart and must wither. For this, give freedom to sound judgment, and lead your heart after it. Your judgment, illumined by truth and aided covertly by working grace: let it first present all the deformity of these, one might say, offspring of hell; you must then compel your heart to feel aversion toward them; then let it more vividly present the danger into which they plunge you, let it show them as your bitterest enemies; you must stir your heart to feel hatred toward them; then let it fully present before you all the beauty and sweetness of the life which they prevent you from entering, all the charm of freedom from these tyrants; you must then press your heart, which has already conceived aversion and hatred toward them, to strive toward these good things as a deer toward the springs of water. By this the goal will be achieved. A short program, but the work will be accomplished, perhaps not quickly. Here are marked only the directions toward which judgment must turn; the thread of judgment itself—to lead and complete it you must do yourself; to your own judgment is evident the effective and powerful thought in one or another aspect. Know, however, that judgment is the lever, but the work is in the heart’s turnings. One might say that as soon as the indicated turnings occur in the heart, we have reached the goal.

This work is the most essential in the turning of the will. You must undertake it energetically and not give up until your heart reaches, in these turnings, the final limits; and these final limits are feelings opposite to sinful impulses—dispositions contrary to the root demands of sin. Thus you must labor over yourself until instead of self-pity there is born harshness toward yourself and mercilessness, until you feel a thirst for suffering, a desire to torment yourself, to exhaust both body and soul; until instead of people-pleasing there arises on one side aversion from all base customs and ties, a kind of hostile, angry resistance to them, and on the other side readiness to accept all injustice and all human insults; until instead of taste only in material, sensible, visible things comes distaste for them and loathing, and there begins a seeking and longing for only the spiritual, pure, Divine; until instead of earthliness, confining life and happiness to earth, your heart is filled with the feeling of pilgrimage on earth, with sole striving toward the heavenly homeland.

When such dispositions are formed, then all the supports of sin will be undermined. It will lose the firmness and determining power, which now passes to man himself. Sin is cast out, it has become external. From this moment it will be tempting but not determining. And every time it is enough to set in motion the contrary feelings you have now acquired in order to repel it. From this it is clear how great is the importance of the work now described: by it a new person is formed within us, with decisive aversion from evil and direction toward good—the turning of the will is accomplished, as a result of which everything in us must take on a new order.

Behold, a man now stands at the very edge of the realm of sin; nothing separates him from the land of light, freedom and blessedness. The bonds have fallen, peace is on the soul; it is ready to soar to God. But the enemy’s cunning has not been exhausted. He still has one arrow, which he has kept for the last moment. Just as the soul strains to take the final step out of the realm of self-indulgent sin, it is struck by an insidious cry: “Just one more day, and that will be enough; tomorrow you will cross this boundary.” Whether because in the previous struggle the soul grows weary and demands rest, or whether it is the law of sin that operates, only this voice is heard. Here there is no opposition to good, only a request—to ease somewhat the tension you have gained. This cry is most seductive: the enemy seems to stand for us, begs us to have pity on ourselves, but lean ever so little to this cry, to this suggestion, and you lose all you have gained. By secret paths those expelled causes of sin will creep to the heart, commit their betrayal unknown to you—and will weaken and undo all that was planned, so that, coming to yourself, you see yourself back on the old line, as if you had attempted nothing to work on yourself. Coldness, numbness and immobility overwhelm you again; you must begin all over what seemed already to be accomplished. Therefore do not despise this small seeming request: it is small and trivial in appearance, but in fact it is the foundation of all evil, a seductive representation of bondage in the guise of freedom, flattering friendship concealing an implacable enemy. Hate it with all your hatred, and as soon as you notice it—and it flies quickly like lightning—hasten to erase its traces so that not even a mark remains. Restore yourself to the state you were in before this, and in the same inner and outer effort resolve to hold yourself forever. Having defeated this enemy too, you will remain the decisive victor, having taken yourself in hand; you will become your own complete master.

Thus, after grace has been awakened, the first task belongs to human freedom—the movement toward yourself, which it accomplishes in three acts: it inclines toward the side of good—chooses it; it removes obstacles, breaks the bonds holding man in sin, casting out from the heart self-pity, people-pleasing, inclination toward the sensual and earthliness and in their place awakening harshness toward yourself, distaste for the sensual, acceptance of all shame, and transplanting your heart to the future age with the feeling of pilgrimage here; finally, it is immediately inspired to enter upon the good path, yielding nothing to yourself but maintaining yourself in constant tension. Thus all grows quiet in the soul. The one who has been stirred, having freed himself from all bonds, with full readiness says to himself: “I will rise and go”.

From this moment begins the other movement of the soul toward God. Having overcome yourself, having mastered all the impulses of your movements, having regained your freedom, you must now offer yourself entirely as a sacrifice to God. This means the work is still only half-done.

The Ascent to the Vow to Dedicate Yourself to God

It would seem that everything is already accomplished if you have decided to abandon sin and it only remains to act. And truly, one can act; but what kind of activity will it be and what spirit will be in it? Man has stopped only at himself. If he begins to act from this point, he will act from himself and for himself, though in a moral order. This will be moral egoism, pagan morality. There are people who say they do good as good, they do it because human dignity requires it, or because to act otherwise would be ignoble or unwise. All such doers show that the education of the inner, moral man in them has not been brought to completion: they have turned to themselves but have not advanced from themselves to God and have not offered themselves to Him in sacrifice; they have stopped halfway. The goal of human freedom is not in itself and not in man but in God. God granted freedom to man as a part of His Divine power, but on the condition that man himself voluntarily offers it as a sacrifice to God as the most perfect offering. Therefore, if you have mastered yourself, go now and give yourself to God. When you sinned, you did not only lose yourself, but in losing yourself, you also drew away from God. Now, returning from sinful captivity, after you have mastered yourself, return yourself also to God. It might seem that the turning from yourself to God should also be a simple matter, one not difficult and not complex, like turning from west to east. But the sinner approaching God is not one independent of Him and does not approach Him in such a way that there is nothing against him. No, he is like a fugitive slave returning to his master, like one guilty appearing before the face of a king-judge. It is necessary to approach in such a way as to be received. In human affairs, a master receives a slave and a king returns mercy to a guilty man when, as they approach, each of them recognizes his fault, repents of it and gives a sincere promise to be completely reformed henceforth.

The same is true in a sinner’s return to God. He will be received by God if a) he recognizes his sins, b) repents of them and c) makes a vow not to sin. These are the necessary acts in the heart’s reunion with God, upon which depend firmness in the new life, perfection in it and confidence in unchanging fulfillment of its demands. The prodigal son, returning to his father, said: “I have sinned”—recognition of sin; “I am no longer worthy”—condemning himself; “receive me as one of your hired servants”—the vow to labor. Therefore, returning to God:

Know your sins. In your awakening determination to abandon sin, you already knew you were sinful, for otherwise why resolve to change your life? But this sinfulness seemed indistinct then. Now you must precisely learn what exactly is sinful and to what degree—clearly, distinctly, as if numerically know your sins, with all circumstances that diminish or increase the sinfulness of your actions: critically review your entire life with a strict, impartial judgment.

For this, place on one side God’s law and on the other your own life, and see where they agree and where they disagree. Take your action and measure it against the law to see if it is lawful; or take the law and see if it is fulfilled in your life. To omit nothing in this important matter, follow some order. Sit down and recall all your duties in relation to God, to your neighbor, and to yourself, and then review your life according to all these relations. Or analyze the Ten Commandments and the beatitudes one by one, with all their applications, and see if your life is such. Or read the chapters of the holy Gospel of Matthew where the Savior sets forth the Christian law, and also the epistle of the holy Apostle James, and the final chapters of the epistles of the holy Apostle Paul, in which are briefly set forth the works required of a Christian, for example: from Rom. 12, from Eph. 4, and so forth. The latter are especially important because they explain the spirit of Christian life. This spirit is clearly and powerfully expressed also in the First Epistle of the holy John the Theologian. Read all this and verify your life—is it so? Or finally, take the order of confession and by it examine your behavior. Regard your life and deeds not merely as deeds of a man but as deeds of a Christian man, and moreover in a definite station and condition.

As a result of such a review of your life, an innumerable multitude of deeds, words, thoughts, feelings, desires contrary to the law will become evident—things that ought not to have been but were allowed, countless things that ought to have been done but were not done, and a considerable number of things that were done according to the law will be found defiled by the impurity of their motives. The sum total of all this will be innumerable, and it is possible that your entire life will turn out to be composed of nothing but evil deeds. The chief thing to keep in view at this first level of knowing your sinfulness is precise definiteness of deeds. As a service record is written with numerical exactness, so also each must picture in his mind the list of his deeds with such exactness—with all circumstances of time, place, persons, obstacles and so forth. If self-examination remains unfruitful for us, it is because we make only general overviews.

Yet despite all this, you should not stop at these particulars but must go further along the path of sin, or penetrate more deeply into the sinful heart. Underlying deeds, words, particular thoughts, desires and feelings are constant dispositions of the heart, which constitute our characteristic traits. Some of our deeds broke through by chance; others flowed from the heart with such force that we could not stop them, and still others were done constantly, becoming, as it were, our law. Such consideration will reveal to us what producers of deeds hide in the heart and give birth to a constant impulse from there toward them. These are sinful inclinations. Uncovering them, we lay bare the structure of our heart, the number and mutual connection of its inclinations.

When this is done, the chief, all-governing passion cannot remain hidden. It is known that the root of all sins is self-love. From self-love come pride, avarice, sensuality, and from these—all other passions, of which eight are considered chief, and there is no count of the derived ones. Every sinner has all the passions—some in actuality, others in their seeds—because everyone who sins is governed by self-love, the seed of all passions and sinful inclinations. But not everyone manifests all of them to the same degree: in one, pride predominates; in another, sensuality; in a third, avarice. And the proud man is not free from sensual pleasures—but it does not matter if he sometimes does without them. And the grasping man thinks highly of himself—but it does not matter if sometimes for profit he acts humbly. And the sensualist loves gain—but it is nothing to him to forgo gain if pleasures can be bought with it. Thus each man has one chief passion. All others stand in the shadow, subordinate to it, and are governed by it, not daring to act powerfully against it. All inclinations and vicious habits already discovered by a man in himself are tinged by one particular passion and animated by it. It is that in which the root of all evils—self-love—most actively dwells and is embodied in his person. The knowledge of this passion must complete the consciousness of one’s sinfulness.

So at last you will know both the root of your sinfulness and its immediate offspring—the inclinations—and its further offspring, the countless deeds; you will picture the entire history of your sinfulness and depict it as if in a painting.

Having known your sinfulness, do not be a cold observer of it, but strive to awaken and cultivate the corresponding saving feelings of heartfelt repentance. It would seem that these feelings should be born in you as soon as you recognize sin, but in reality it does not always happen so. The heart hardens from sin. As a laborer hardens from his work, so does the sinner harden, having sold himself into the black work of sin—to dig roots and eat them. Therefore here too you must work on yourself to stir up the feelings of repentance.

You pass to these feelings through the feeling of guilt in your sins and your defenselessness in them. The feeling of guilt stands between knowing your sins and repentant feelings and is itself mediated by self-accusation.

Begin then to accuse yourself—and accuse yourself thoroughly. Remove everything from your attention and leave yourself alone with your conscience before the face of God—the all-seeing Judge. Lay bare what you knew you ought not to do, and yet desired it; you were able and desired to refrain from it but did not use your self-mastery for your own good: reason and conscience were against it, and external obstacles were present, but you despised all these admonitions. Do the same for each sin. You will see that every sin was committed willingly, with awareness of its sinfulness and with effort in overcoming obstacles—and conscience will force you to acknowledge your guilt unquestioningly. The cunning of the sinful heart may begin to invent excuses—now in the weakness of nature, now in the force of temperament, now in the concourse of circumstances, now in the pressure of life’s relations—do not listen. All this could intensify the draw toward sin, but no one can force agreement to sin—it is always an act of the will. Say: “I do not wish,” and all temptations end! Contrary to such “thinking to excuse yourself from guilt for sins” (Ps. 140:4), lay bare more fully your personal circumstances: who you are, where, when and how you sinned, that you may see how guilty is your sin precisely in your person and in your circumstances—and in all this you will see not reasons for excuses but factors that increase your guilt. The limit to which self-accusation must be brought is the feeling of defenseless guilt—the state in which the heart will say: “I have nothing in my defense—I am guilty.”

In this action of accusation by conscience, a man will establish over himself one sin after another and will say: “In that I am guilty, and in another, and in a third, in all, in everything I am guilty,”—he will clothe himself in his sins and will begin to feel that they weigh upon him with all their weight. In knowing sins, one can still imagine them as external; in self-accusation they are seen within ourselves and they press upon us, and all the more they press because we are defenseless against them. Having come to this point, what remains for the sinner to say but: “Wretched man that I am! This is not good and that is evil; I myself am guilty that it is not good and that it is in me.”

As soon as a man speaks in his heart: “Wretched man that I am,” painfully sweet feelings of repentance for sins begin to arise in him, one after another. He feels shame that he gave himself over to such base deeds, and resentment that he indulged himself and yielded to his evil will, and sorrowful pain that he brought himself to such moral disorder, and fear that he has offended God and put himself in such a dangerous position both in time and in eternity. These feelings alternate with one another, and man burns in them as in a fire. He sees himself hanging over an abyss and in his feeling descends to the state of the rejected. Hopeless anguish gives way to a feeling of despair. And here is the point at which a demon sometimes seizes a sinner with despair, suggesting: “your guilt is too great for you to be forgiven” (Gen. 4:13).

Every sinner experiences these feelings in greater or lesser degree. There is no need to grieve that they exist; rather we should desire them and desire them intensely. The more a man burns in them and the more intense the burning, the more saving it is. In the strength of this burning lies the foundation of future reform. Here the heart learns how bitter is the fruit of sin, and from this learns the strength to turn away from its seductions.

The feelings of repentance obviously have a dissolving effect. A word goes forth that divides the soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and judges the thoughts and intents of the heart. But the purpose for which this is wrought in man by God’s grace is not merely to destroy but, through the destruction of the old, to create something new. This new is seeded by the breath of hope that it is possible to correct the incorrigible. There is a way to correct what is wrong and to restore what is lost, only take up the work. One might think there is a direct transition from repentant feelings to making a vow: “Therefore, I reject sin and promise to serve God alone in the fulfillment of His commandments.” But one who makes such a vow must be confident that, on one hand, his former sinfulness can be forgiven, and on the other that he can receive strength to help him keep the vow. It is for this reason that making the vow to serve the Lord is mediated by confidence in forgiveness and in receiving help from above; and this confidence is produced by faith in the Lord Savior, by whom on the cross the handwriting of our sins was torn up and, after His ascension, all “divine power for life and piety” (2 Pet. 1:3) were given to us. Without this faith and the confidence it produces, the one tormented by crushing feelings of repentance walks the way of Judas. Here is when the Cross of the Savior is truly an anchor for man! Hanging, as it were, over an abyss in painful sorrow for sins, he sees Him alone as his savior, grasps Him with all the strength of faith and hope and draws from Him strength to be inspired to make a vow. As a drowning man grips a log, so the repentant one grips the Cross of Christ and feels that he will not perish. Ordinarily we know the power of the Cross of the Lord, but one who has passed through this painful repentance for sins feels it, because it becomes an element of his life.

Therefore, tormented by feelings of repentance and already wavering before despair, as you move toward the desired vow:

First hurry to revive living faith in the power of the cross of Christ the Savior. All the sins of all men are nailed to the cross, and consequently your sins too. Quicken this assurance, and your heart will be refreshed with consolation, and it will rise to confidence immediately as it is warmed by this faith.

Add to this firm confidence that you will be given strength to fulfill your vow as soon as you approach the Mysteries. No one is denied them. They were indeed acquired by the Lord to be distributed. This confidence will stir your own powers into action and will give birth to readiness to work eagerly with such help. Can a vow be made without confidence in help from above? But on the other hand, will this confidence come if one does not think of making a vow? Here there is mutual action.

And so when within you this combination of confidence and readiness comes to pass, make the vow to serve God alone all the days of your life. This heartfelt vow, made in faith in our Lord Jesus Christ and spoken sincerely, will disperse all the darkness that enveloped your soul and will illuminate all the threads of your inner and all the arrangements of your outer life. Here is concluded a covenant of the heart with God in Christ Jesus. Therefore in this action the previous decision takes on a truly Christian character.

Clothing With Power From Above for the Work of Pleasing God in the Mysteries of Repentance and Communion

The ascent to the vow completes the movement of the repenting sinner toward the Lord. Now he will take only some steps to receive the Lord coming forth to meet him. The father met the prodigal son by embracing him and kissing him as a sign of complete forgiveness, then clothed him as befits him and prepared a feast for him. a) God pronounces complete forgiveness to the repentant in the Mystery of Repentance; b) He clothes him with power and offers a feast—in the Mystery of Communion.

To the Repentant is Pronounced Complete Forgiveness in the Mystery of Repentance

After a sinner has come to the vow to serve God alone from now on, he must hasten to the Mystery of Repentance. Its necessity is so great that everything done up to now, without it, will not only remain incomplete but must come to nothing. It receives all its weight, all its significance and all its power only in this Mystery. Therefore, where there is no Mystery of Repentance, there are no living in the true Christian way.

The first thing that makes this Mystery necessary is a certain instability in inner work in general, a certain indefiniteness and shakiness in it. Our thoughts, as long as they are in the head, are changeable in their course, disordered in arrangement, unestablished in movement—and this not only when the subject is not yet clear but even when we have thought it through well. But as soon as we set them down on paper, they not only establish themselves in order but are finally clarified and confirmed. In precisely the same way, a change of life only conceived within is indecisive and unstable, and the forms of life outlined at this time are shaky and indefinite. They receive firm establishment in the Mystery of Repentance, when the sinner in the church opens his shortcomings and confirms his vow to be reformed. Melted wax flows indefinitely; but when it is poured into a mold or a seal is impressed upon it, something comes out of it. And a seal must be impressed on our inner man so that he takes a definite form. This is done to him in the Mystery of Repentance: here the Divine grace of the Spirit seals him.

Man receives spiritual life from the Spirit of God. The grace of the Spirit blends with us, begins to live and act in us and produces life by the spirit. In the repentant man up to this point it has acted from without: externally it stirred him, externally it oversaw all the corrective movements within and aided them; but it has not yet penetrated inward, not yet taken up dwelling. This is accomplished in the Mystery of Repentance (and in baptism for one returning to the Lord for the first time). Just as one tormented by thirst feels refreshment and restoration upon drinking cool water, so one burning in the fire of repentance receives in the Mystery of Repentance the ultimately soothing and strengthening power.

What especially makes the Mystery of Repentance necessary is, on one side, the nature of sin, and on the other the nature of our conscience. When we sin, we think that not only outside us but in us also no traces of sin remain. Meanwhile, it leaves deep traces both in us and outside us on everything that surrounds us, and especially in heaven, in the decrees of Divine justice. At the hour of sin it is decided there what the sinner has become: in the book of life he is entered in the list of the condemned—and he becomes bound in heaven. Divine grace will not descend into him until the list of the condemned in heaven is erased, until he receives there absolution. But God willed that the heavenly absolution—heavenly erasure from the list of the condemned—be made dependent on the absolution of those bound by sins on earth. Therefore, accept the Mystery of Repentance so that you may be worthy of complete absolution in all respects and open in yourself an entrance for the spirit of grace. Your conscience, now purified, having recovered sensitivity and feeling for the moral order, will give you no peace until you are firmly assured of forgiveness. Such is its nature in the ordinary course of our life: it will not allow us even to show ourselves before one we have offended until we are assured he has forgiven us. In relation to God it is still more discriminating. Although at the time when man rises to a decisive vow, a certain assurance descends on him that he is now not hateful to God; but this assurance is his own and cannot be firm; doubt will soon shake it: “Is it so, or is this perhaps self-deception?” and doubt will bring trouble within, and from trouble—weakness. In such a state life will have neither firmness nor order. Therefore man must hear forgiveness pronounced from the face of God so that, being finally assured of God’s mercy, he may act afterward with firmer decision and steadiness in this assurance. Therefore, confess—and receive from God the announcement of forgiveness.

You must prepare yourself worthily for a saving confession. Whoever has gone through all that has been said so far is prepared. Come then with reverent faith!

Having firmly convinced yourself of the necessity of this Mystery, go to it—not as to some appendage to your change of life or a mere custom, but with full faith that for you, as a sinner, this alone is the possible way of salvation; that, passing it by, you will remain among the condemned and, consequently, outside all mercy; that, not entering this hospital, you will not restore health to your spirit and will remain, as you were, sick and disordered; that you will not see the Kingdom unless you enter by the door of repentance.

With such convictions awaken in yourself the desire for this Mystery. Approach it not as to a place of slaughter but as to a fountain of blessings. Whoever vividly imagines the fruit that is born in us from confession cannot help but long for it. A man comes there all in wounds, from head to toe there is no wholeness, and he returns from there healthy in every part, alive, strong, with the feeling of safety from future infections. He comes there burdened—the sum of his past sins is upon him, it torments him and deprives him of all peace, and he returns relieved, gladdened, in a joyful state of spirit because he has received a charter of forgiveness.

Shame and fear may approach—let them! This Mystery is even more desirable because it awakens shame and fear; and the greater the shame and fear, the more saving it is. When you desire this Mystery, desire greater shame and greater trembling. Does not one who decides to be healed know that treatment is painful? He knows, but in deciding on treatment, he also determines himself to accept the sufferings connected with it in hope of recovery. And you, when you were tormented by the feelings of repentance that came upon you and yearned to draw near to God, did you not say: “I am ready to bear all things, only have pity and forgive me!” Here it has come to pass according to your desire. Let not shame and fear that approach disturb you—they are joined to this Mystery for your benefit. Once you have burned through them, you will be the stronger morally. You have already burned more than once in the fire of repentance—burn once more. Then you burned alone before God and conscience, but now burn in the presence of a witness appointed by God, to testify to the sincerity of that solitary burning, and perhaps to make up for its incompleteness. There will be judgment and there shame and fear of despair. Shame and fear in confession atone for shame and fear then. If you do not wish those, experience these. Besides, it is always the case that in proportion to the distress that the confessor passes through, there abound in him consolations after confession. Here the Savior truly shows Himself as the Comforter of those who labor and are heavy-laden! The one who has truly repented and confessed knows this truth in his heart by experience, not merely by faith.

Then, recalling again all the sins you have committed and renewing the vow already ripened in you not to repeat them, revive living faith that you stand before the Lord Himself, who receives your confession, and tell all, concealing nothing of what burdens your conscience. If you have come with the desire to shame yourself, you will not hide yourself but will depict, as fully as you can, your degradation in your passions for sin. This will serve to satisfy your sorrowful heart. You must be assured that every sin confessed is expelled from the heart, while every sin concealed remains in it to all the greater condemnation, since the sinner was near the all-healing Physician with this wound. By concealing the sin, he covered the wound, not caring that it torments and disorders his soul. In the account of blessed Theodora passing the toll-houses, it is said that the evil accusers found no sins written in their records that she had confessed. The angels later explained to her that confession blots out sin from all places where it is recorded. Neither in the book of conscience nor in the book of life nor by these evil devourer is it reckoned to that person—confession has erased these records. Pour out without concealment everything that weighs upon you. The limit to which you should go in revealing your sins is such that your spiritual father will have a precise understanding of you, so that he sees you as you truly are, and in absolving you absolves precisely you and not another; so that when he says: “I forgive and absolve the repentant for the sins he has committed,” nothing in you remains that does not fall under these words. It is good that those preparing for confession for the first time after long living in sins find an opportunity to speak beforehand with their spiritual father and tell him the whole history of their sinful life. In this way they have no risk of forgetting or omitting anything in the confusion of confession itself. By all means one should take care to make a complete confession of sins. The Lord gave the authority to absolve not unconditionally but on condition of repentance and confession. If this is not fulfilled, it may happen that when the spiritual father says: “I forgive and absolve,” the Lord says: “But I condemn.”

Here the confession ends. The spiritual father raises his stole, covers with it the head of the penitent and, holding his hand upon it, pronounces absolution for all sins, sealing him with the sign of the cross upon his head. What happens at this moment in the soul is known to everyone who has truly repented. Streams of grace from the head flow into the heart and fill it with gladness. This is not from men—neither from the penitent nor from the one absolving: this is the mystery of the Lord the Healer and Comforter of souls… It sometimes happens that in the heart of some one can distinctly hear some Divine word in strengthening and encouragement for future work. It is, as it were, spiritual arms delivered by Christ the Savior to the man who now enters among those warring under His banner. Let whoever has been granted to hear such a word preserve it afterwards as consoling and encouraging; consoling because it is evident that the confession is received, when the Lord deigned to enter, as it were, into conversation with the penitent; encouraging because in the hour of temptation, one need only remember it and whence strength will come!.. Soldiers in battle encourage themselves with what word from their commander’s speech affected them most powerfully. So too here.

Thus all is completed… It remains to draw near to God in feelings of gratitude for His unspeakable mercies and to kiss the cross and Gospel as a sign of the vow—to walk unflinchingly the path shown in the Gospel with self-crucifixion, to follow Christ the Savior as described in the Gospel, under His gentle yoke, now newly taken upon yourself. Having done this, go in peace with the intention to act without fail according to what you have promised, remembering that judgment over you from this time will be from your own words. You have made a vow—keep it; you have sealed it with the Mystery—be all the more faithful to it, so as not to fall again into the rank of those who trample on grace.

Your spiritual father will impose a penance on you; receive it with joy. And if your spiritual father should not impose a penance, ask that one be imposed. This will not only be a blessing on you on the good path you are entering, but also a protection and defense against strange hostile attacks upon you in your new life order. This is what the Holy Patriarch of Constantinople writes about it in his “Answer to the Lutherans”: “We accompany forgiveness of sins with penances for many weighty reasons. First, so that through voluntary suffering here the sinner may be freed from the heavy involuntary punishment there, in the other life, for the Lord is moved to mercy by nothing so much as by suffering, and especially by voluntary suffering. Therefore holy Gregory says that for tears man is repaid with human kindness. Second, so that penance destroy in the sinner those passionate lusts of the flesh that generate sin, for we know that opposites are cured by opposites. Third, so that penance serves as a kind of chain or bridle for the soul and does not allow it again to take up the same vicious deeds from which it is just being cleansed. Fourth, so that it train one to labors and patience, for virtue is the work of labors. Fifth, so that we see and know whether the penitent has completely hated sin.”

Whoever passes through this entire course of spiritual healing as it should be, and especially without hiding, confesses his sins, returns from God’s house as guilty men return from the place of judgment who, instead of a sentence of death, heard there the announcement of pardon and forgetting of their crimes, returns with the deepest feeling of gratitude to the Savior of our souls, with firm resolve to devote Him and the fulfillment of His commandments the whole remainder of his life, with extreme aversion from all his former sins and uncontrollable desire to erase all the traces of his previous base life. The one who has received absolution feels within himself that he is not idle, that a special power has visited him. Divine grace, which until now has worked upon him from without to aid him in his victory over himself, now with the words “I forgive and absolve” has entered within, has blended with his spirit and has filled him with fire and swiftness, with which he now goes forth to work and to labor until the evening of his life.

The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion

In the parable of the prodigal son, when the father received the returning son with repentance, after falling upon his neck and kissing him as a sign of complete forgiveness, he commanded that he be clothed and prepared a bright and joyful feast. The father’s heart found sufficiency not in forgiveness alone; he chose instead to assure his son more decisively of his reconciliation with him, and to express even more powerfully the joy of their reunion after so sorrowful a separation. Paternal love gives what filial hope had not even dared to expect. What sinner could have hoped for anything greater after receiving complete forgiveness? And yet, lo, he is invited to the Lord’s supper, where the Lord Himself gives him His Flesh to eat and His Blood to drink. This is the crown of generosity toward the repenting sinner—and yet not an excess, but the essential necessity for reunion with the Lord.

Christian life is life in the Lord Jesus Christ. The believer is clothed in Christ and lives by Him. The one who fell after baptism loses this grace; rising from the fall and returning to the Lord, he must again become worthy of it—and he becomes worthy in holy communion. “He who eats My Flesh and drinks My Blood abides in Me, and I in him”, the Lord says (Jn. 6:56). Here in the penitent begins the life of Christ Jesus. The Lord said that He is the vine and those who believe in Him are the branches (see: Jn. 15:5). A branch does not live unless it is on the vine; so also believers do not live unless they are in the Lord. Nowhere is there true life except in this vine. What is not on it is dead. Therefore, whoever wishes to live truly must be grafted onto it, must receive from it the vital sap and live by nourishing themselves with it. This grafting is accomplished in holy communion: here the Christian becomes one with the Lord. When the Lord was only guiding a sinner to complete repentance, He merely knocked at the door of his heart; but when the door is opened through contrition and repentance, He enters within and shares a meal with the communicant.

Now the human is born anew. A life of an entirely new kind begins. Life cannot continue without food, and especially food suited to it. And this very kind of food is the Body and Blood of the Lord. He Himself said: “My Flesh is truly food, and My Blood is truly drink” (Jn. 6:55). With these the one who has begun this new life must nourish that life. All the more is it necessary to taste this food in the early stages, at the first, so to speak, stirrings of one’s new life. They say that the first food has an influence on the character of bodily life and afterwards becomes a constant need of the body. What ought to be the character of the life of one who has repented? Life in Christ Jesus, our Lord. What should become his constant need? The need for communion with the Lord. Let him therefore hasten in the first stirrings of this life to taste the Body and Blood of Christ, so as to lay, as it were, the foundation of a life conformed to Christ, and to awaken the living need of constant communion with Him through this tasting. The one who tastes, having felt the sweetness of this heavenly manna, can no longer afterwards fail to hunger and thirst for more and more of this tasting.

Therefore, having received mercy and complete forgiveness in repentance, come to holy communion for the fullness of the revival of your inner person.

There is no need to prescribe special rules for preparation for this. The one who has repented already possesses all that is necessary for it, and he naturally proceeds to communion. The one who has wept over his sins and confessed is ready to approach this great Mystery. And the Apostle prescribes nothing more; he says only: “Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup” (1 Cor. 11:28). One can say: keep what you have, or do not lose what you have—and that is enough.

According to our custom, after confession and until communion, not much time passes: usually only the evening, the morning, and the Liturgy. During these moments you must take care to preserve the spiritual disposition brought from the church after confession, and to direct it toward communion with the Lord in holy communion.

Keep your attention undistracted and your heart peaceful. Guard against distraction and troubled cares, and withdrawing from everything, enter into yourself and remain alone with a single thought about the Lord who is about to come to you. Put aside every wandering thought, and contemplating the Lord alone, pray to Him with an undistracted heartfelt prayer.

If your thought cannot remain fixed in this oneness, give it something to occupy itself with—meditation on communion itself. And so that it does not wander too much, bind it with the words of the Lord and the holy Apostles about this Mystery.

Pondering any saying of the Lord or the holy Apostles, draw edification from them and dispose yourself to contrite prayer. When prayer comes, fall before the Lord and do not cease from prayer while prayer remains.

Spend the evening in these occupations until sleep closes your eyes. Morning will come. As soon as you awaken and come to yourself, first restore in your awareness the greatness of the day that has dawned for you. But do not hurry or distract yourself with many things; keep your attention only on what is about to be and what will happen in you. Be watchful! The enemy will attempt to tempt you in every way, trying to put your soul into a bad state, either scattering your thoughts or stirring up some care, or resentment at something, or displeasure with someone. Attend to yourself, praying to the Lord, and you will avoid these stumbling blocks.

When you enter the church, feel as if you were in the Upper Room on Zion, where the Lord gave communion to the holy Apostles, and attend more than ever to what is sung and read, directing everything toward this understanding: that the Lord Himself is preparing a saving feast for you.

At this point kindle faith in the true presence of the very Lord and Savior in the Holy Mysteries. Proceeding from this faith and contemplating the very Lord, now as if coming to you, with self-abasement cry out: “I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof” (Mt. 8:8). From self-abasement pass to filial fear, not a fear that drives away but one that brings reverent sobriety. Since the Lord Himself both invites and commands you to approach, be ready to approach with confidence, with desire and longing, like “the deer [for] the watersprings” (Ps. 41:2), and expecting with certainty to receive the very Lord, and with Him all the treasures of life hidden in Him. From this expectation, which will not disappoint, turning again to yourself and ready to receive the Lord, kindle more intensely the contrition of your heart, and repeat the promise to turn from sin, even if you should have to die for it.

Strive to stand through the whole Liturgy, passing from one of these feelings to another, and in this spiritual disposition at last approach the Cup of the Lord; beholding it, render worship to the Lord coming to you, and, opening mouth and heart, receive Him, humbly and reverently crying out with the Apostle Thomas: “My Lord and my God!” (Jn. 20:28).

Glory to You, God! Glory to You, God! Glory to You, God!

Approaching the Cup of the Lord with such a disposition and departing from it, you will feel in your heart: “Truly the word… those receiving the Divine Graces of the sacrament, I am not alone, but with You, my Christ, by the threefold Light that illuminates the world”. From now on you begin to carry Christ within yourself. Take care diligently to give Him peace in every way and to keep Him within you. If Christ is in you, who can be against you?.. And you can do all things through the Lord who strengthens you.

With this, the formation of spiritual life in the Christian person is completed—the one who, after falling into sin, is turning again to pleasing God.

Behold the entire order of conversion! It is presented here in the form of a long narrative so that you might see more clearly all the turns which the one turning should desire, in the interaction of freedom and grace. All that has been said takes place in every person who is converting, but how and to what extent—this depends on individuals and circumstances of each person. For some, the entire conversion is accomplished in a few minutes, and yet they are stirred, they repent and rise to determination. Spiritual phenomena are instantaneous. Nevertheless, such examples of conversion are very rare; most often the entire conversion is accomplished not suddenly, but gradually. The very inner changes, though instantaneous, are not always reached suddenly, but sometimes after quite prolonged labor on oneself. For some, therefore, complete conversion may last for years. The main points where delay occurs are those where self-love must suffer—in overcoming, for example, obstacles or temptations to sin, in confession and so forth. The final state which must be reached is complete detachment from everything and self-surrender to the Lord. From this moment true Christian life truly begins, because then the human reaches their goal—hidden in God. Everything depends on the zeal with which someone sets about themselves, and on the conviction that what must be done must be done—whether now or later, it must be done: better sooner—and they begin to work, and quickly it is established. And to become established is the main work of conversion.

Part 3. On How the Christian Life Is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; or, On the Order of a God-Pleasing Life

How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Let us fix our attention on this: that a man has only just turned from darkness to light, from the domain of Satan to God, has only just entered a new path on which he has not yet taken a single step, yet burns with zeal to do everything that proves necessary to stand firm in what he has begun and not yield again to his former masters, who pulled him away from God and his Savior and led him into perdition.

The question now arises: where must he go and what must he do in order to arrive where he should, and to arrive truly, straight, swiftly, successfully? The goal to which the converted man must direct all his attention and all his labors is the final goal of man and the economy of salvation itself—namely, communion with God, a living union with God, the grace of his indwelling. Only then will the seeking and zealous spirit find rest, when he has acquired God, tasted Him, and been satisfied. Therefore his first law is: “seek” God, “seek his face continually” (cf. Ps 104:4). What this good consists in is incomprehensible to man. He would never have thought of such a height on his own. But when God was pleased to appoint him to this rank, it would be bold of man to reject it through unbelief, inattention, or forgetfulness of it, even amid labors. “I will dwell in them”, says God, and this by all Persons of the Most Holy Trinity (2 Cor 6:16). Regarding God the Father and himself, the Lord says: “to him” (the believer and lover) “we will come, and make our home with him” (Jn 14:23). Regarding himself alone: “I will come in to him and dine with him” (Rev 3:20); and more plainly still: “I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you” (Jn 14:20). Of the Holy Spirit the Apostle says: “God’s Spirit lives in you” (Rom 8:9).

It must be noted that this indwelling of God is not merely mental, such as occurs in meditation on God from man’s side and in God’s good pleasure from His side, but is living and vital, for which those must be reckoned only as means. Intelligent and heartfelt longing toward God, under God’s good pleasure, prepares man to receive God in truth; it is such a union in which, without absorbing the powers and person of man, God appears “working” in him “both to will and to do” (Phil 2:13); and man, according to the Apostle, “no longer” lives “by himself, but” “Christ” lives “in him” (cf. Gal 2:20). This is the goal not only of man but of God himself. All that is created stands in God and by God. Free creatures are left to themselves, but not finally and not altogether; they are intended to give themselves to the all-acting God, not constituting within themselves a kingdom in God’s Kingdom that is independent of God. It may seem strange that communion with God must still be attained when it already exists or is given in the Mystery of baptism or repentance, for it is said: “as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Gal 3:27); or: “You died, and your life is hidden with Christ” “in God” (Col 3:3). And by ordinary reasoning, God is everywhere, “not far from any of us, so that we might feel” “for him” (Acts 17:27), and ready to dwell in anyone willing to receive him. Only unwillingness, carelessness, and sinfulness separate us from him. Now, when the penitent has rejected all and gives himself to God—what stands in the way of God’s indwelling in him?

In resolving such a confusion, we must distinguish different kinds of communion with God. It begins from the moment of awakening and is manifest, on man’s side, in seeking and striving toward God, and on God’s side, in his good pleasure, help, and protection. But God is still outside man and man outside God; they do not interpenetrate, are not mutually interpermeable. In the Mystery of baptism or repentance the Lord by His grace enters within man, communicates with him in a living way, and gives him to taste all the sweetness of divinity as fully and perceptibly as is fitting for the perfect; but then He again hides this revelation of His communion, renewing it only at times—and then lightly, as in a reflection only, not in reality—leaving man in ignorance of Him and His abiding in him until a definite measure of maturity or training according to His wise guidance. After this, the Lord manifestly shows His indwelling in the spirit of man, who then becomes the temple of the Three-Hypostatic Godhead that fills him.

Thus there are three kinds of communion with God: one is mental, occurring during the period of conversion, and the other two are actual, but one of them is hidden and invisible to others and unknown even to the recipient himself, while the other is evident to others as well. The first kind of communion, the most intelligible and universal, does not cease even in the second stage and even in the third, because spiritual life is intelligent life; yet in these stages it differs from its first character characteristically, though it is quite impossible to explain this by words. All spiritual life consists in the transition from mental communion with God to actual, living, perceptible, and manifest communion.

We look at the penitent man—that is, at one who has truly entered into communion with God, but still hidden, secret, not manifest—and has the goal of attaining full, perceptible, tangible communion. We must define this more precisely and assure ourselves, because all the activity of the penitent for salvation must be built on these concepts; namely: that in the Mystery of repentance (or baptism) grace descends perceptibly to the spirit, but then hides itself from consciousness, though it does not depart in deed—and this is until the heart is purified, when it dwells visibly and finally. It is evident that our teachers in this matter can only be the holy fathers. Of all of them, none depicted this as well as St Diadochos, bishop of Photike, and St Makarios of Egypt. Let us adduce their testimonies to our propositions.

Grace indwells in man and is present with him from the moment of receiving the Mystery. “Grace,” says St Diadochos, “from the very moment in which we receive baptism (or repentance) dwells in the very depths of the mind.” Again: “Divine grace through holy baptism unites itself with an incomprehensible sort of love, by the marks of the divine image, as a pledge of likeness. St Makarios says: “Grace is continually present with man, having been united and rooted since childhood, as it were something natural and inseparable in his heart, having become one being with him.”

At its first indwelling through the Mysteries, this grace grants man full tasting of blessedness from communion with God. “The All-Holy Spirit,” says St Diadochos, “in the beginning of perfection, if we zealously love God’s virtue, gives the soul to taste the sweetness of God with all its feeling and abundantly, so that the mind might have true knowledge of the final reward of God-pleasing labors. Again: “Grace at first usually illumines the soul with its light so that it can abundantly feel it.” This perceptible overshadowing of grace at first is portrayed by the white garment in which the baptized are clothed for seven days. That this is not merely a rite is evident from examples of converted saints, for some were manifestly clothed in light, on others descended a dove, some’s faces were illumined. In general, all who truly drew near to the Lord felt this in a certain exultation of their spirit, like that with which the Lord’s Forerunner exulted in Elizabeth’s womb at the approach of the Mother of God and in her the Lord. In the life of Simeon and John (July 21) it is said that they saw light around their brother as he was baptized and received the monastic habit—and this for seven days. Having felt, upon receiving the habit, this special action of God within themselves, they sought to preserve it forever, and for this reason immediately departed to seclusion—the mode of ascetical striving most suited to this.

Then grace hides itself from the one being saved, and though it remains in him and works, it does so in such a way that he does not notice it, and so completely fails to notice that he often considers himself abandoned by God and perishing, from which he falls into sorrow, lamentation, and even mild despair. Thus St Diadochos, continuing after the passages cited above, says: “But for a long time afterward it hides the preciousness of this life-giving gift, so that we, though we might fulfill all virtues, might consider ourselves utterly nothing, because we have not yet turned holy love into a habit for ourselves. But in the course of struggles, it produces its secret actions in the soul that theologizes in a way unknown to it, so that in the first case it might persuade us, called from ignorance to knowledge, to joyfully enter upon the path of divine contemplation, and in the second, amid struggles, to protect our knowledge from vainglory.” In another place he explains how grace works in general: “Grace at first conceals its presence, waiting for the soul’s will, and as soon as man turns wholly to the Lord, then it reveals its presence to the heart by some inexpressible feeling and again waits for the movement of the soul, meanwhile allowing demonic arrows to reach the deep feeling of it, so that with the most zealous will and with the humblest disposition she might seek God. Nevertheless, it must be known that, though grace conceals its presence from the soul, it nonetheless gives it help in a hidden way, to show the enemies that victory belongs solely to the soul. Therefore the soul then finds itself in despondency, sorrow, abasement, and even moderate despair.” And St Makarios of Egypt says that “the power of God’s grace, being in man (which already is, is given), and the gift of the Holy Spirit, which a faithful soul is granted to receive through great labor, much waiting, patience, trials and testings,” meaning not its first reception but its full indwelling and action, as is clear from his words where he says that grace, with great patience, wisdom, and mysterious testing of the mind in a man who has for a long time been struggling in various circumstances, begins to work. He also explains this through examples of Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, and David, who, having received great promises, then had to suffer for a long time in obscurity until they finally saw the fulfillment of the promises. It must be noted that this hiddenness and imperceptibility is not continuous, but from time to time becomes interspersed with consolations, though these consolations are quite different from those which come later, at the indwelling of the Spirit.

Finally, when this period of hidden communion with God and of God’s action in the soul comes to an end—a duration that is not in man’s hands but in the guiding wisdom of the grace that saves man—God dwells in man in a special way, manifestly fills him, unites and communes with him, and this constitutes the goal of all ascetical striving and of all man’s labors, and of all God’s economy of salvation, and of everything that befalls each man in this present life from birth to the grave. St Makarios says that the work of grace, after long trials, finally becomes completely evident, and the soul receives full adoption by the Spirit. God himself entrusts himself to the heart, and man is granted to become one spirit with the Lord. The tested man, according to Diadochos, becomes a perfect dwelling of the Holy Spirit. Grace illumines all his being in some deep feeling. This action reveals itself or is accompanied by different means in different people.

These two modes of actual communion with God are beautifully depicted and described by the wise Sirach, speaking of Wisdom, which is God’s saving grace to us: “she will walk with him in a roundabout way and bring fear and terror upon him, and she will torment him with the discipline of her law until she trusts him; then she will return to him on the straight path and gladden him, and reveal her secrets to him” (Sir 4:18–21).

“She will walk with him in a roundabout way”—that is, severely, strictly, without mercy, as it were without love.

“And she will bring fear and terror upon him”—fear of abandonment by God and constant threat of terrible enemies; and in this, according to Diadochos, grace acts like a mother hiding from her child, who from fear therefore begins to cry and seek his mother, especially when he sees strangers around him.

“And she will torment him with the discipline of her law”—she will keep him for a long time in this hidden and strict teaching of hers. According to St Makarios, “grace in many different ways, according to its will and in accordance with man’s benefit, arranges everything, holds him in many trials and mysterious testing of the mind and so forth.”

“Until she trusts him and he proves himself in her judgments”—that is, until she brings him to the point where he can be relied upon completely, as tested and faithful. St Makarios says: “When the will, after much trial, appears pleasing to the Holy Spirit and through long time shows itself therein patient and unshakable; when the soul does not grieve the Spirit in anything, but in all commandments is in agreement with grace,” then “She will return to him on the straight path”—that is, openly, face to face, will appear to him as it were anew after separation and absence. Then, according to St Makarios, the work of grace in him is completely revealed—he receives full adoption; or, according to Diadochos, grace illumines all his being in a certain deep feeling, and he becomes a perfect dwelling of the Holy Spirit: the light of God’s face is marked upon him (see Ps 4:7); the Lord and God comes and makes his dwelling in him (see Jn 14:23).

“And she will gladden him”—“Your heart will rejoice”, says the Lord, “and no one will take your joy from you” (Jn 16:22). The Kingdom of God is “joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom 14:17). The light shining in man, says St Makarios, so pierces through all his inwardness that he, wholly immersed in this sweetness and pleasant feeling, is outside himself from the overabundance of love and the hidden Mysteries he contemplates. “The soul then burns,” says St Diadochos, “and with an inexpressible sort of joy and love then strives to go out of the body and depart to the Lord and as it were not to know this temporal life.”

“And she will reveal her secrets to him”—the secrets of divine wisdom, the worthy-of-worship Trinity, the economy of salvation, its appropriation to us, the secrets of sin and virtue, divine care for rational and material creatures, and in general all the divine order of things, as this is depicted in detail by St Isaac the Syrian in his letter to Simeon. “When the mind is renewed and the heart is sanctified, then spiritual knowledge of creations is felt, the contemplation of the mysteries of the Holy Trinity shines forth in him with the mysteries of the worthy-of-worship dispensation concerning us, and then he obtains the most complete knowledge of the hope of the future. Such a one does not learn, does not investigate, but contemplates the glory of Christ, enjoys the pleasure of the contemplation of the mysteries of the new world. Such perfection of knowledge comes with the reception of the Spirit, who leads our spirit into that world, order, or realm of contemplations.” The Holy Spirit removes from the soul a veil, ravishes it into that age, and shows it all marvels.

Thus it is now evident that the grace coming to the converted through the Mysteries unites with him and at first gives him to taste all the sweetness of life lived according to God, and then hides its presence from him, leaving him to act as it were alone, amid labors, sweat, confusion, and even falling; finally, after the passage of this testing period, it dwells in him openly, effectively, powerfully, perceptibly.

The question arises: what is the reason that God’s grace does not dwell completely all at once, or in other words, why does the triumph of full communion of the soul with God not reveal itself all at once? One must know this reason in order to act against it and to act more successfully, because only by removing it can complete indwelling of grace be attained.

To understand why this happens, let us turn to the inner structure of the converted person. Sin has taken hold of man and drawn his attention to itself, and all his striving and all his powers. Acting under the influence of sin, man saturates himself completely with it and trains all parts of his being and all his powers to act at its prompting. This foreign activity, imposed from without, from its long residence, becomes so natural to us that it turns into nature itself, takes on the appearance of what is natural, and therefore unchangeable and necessary. Thus kichenie attaches to the mind, self-interest to desire, lust to the heart, and self-regard and a certain animosity toward others to all our undertakings. In this way, in his consciousness and will, in the powers of the soul—mind, will, and feeling—in all the functions of the body, in all his external deeds, in his conduct, relationships, rules, and customs—man is wholly permeated with sin, that is, with self-regard, passion, and self-pleasing. According to St Makarios, this is depicted as: sin, having entered into us at the fall, takes on the whole form of man, which is why he is called a fleshly, soulish, external man, and has clothed its parts with the corresponding parts of our nature: the mind with mind, the will with will, and so forth, and, suppressing our natural activity of powers, put forth its own unnatural activity in place of them, while keeping man in the assurance that it was natural. In this darkness, under the weight of sin, in the domain of Satan dwells every man not converted, not repentant, not come to the resolve to serve God in spirit and in truth.

The coming divine grace—first through awakening, then through the period of conversion—divides man into a man, brings him into consciousness of this duality, into the vision of what is unnatural and what should be natural, and brings him to the resolve to tear away or cleanse all that is unnatural, so that the divine-like nature appears in full light. But it is evident that such resolve is only the beginning of the work. In it man has only in consciousness and will come out of the realm of the alien unnaturalness existing in him, has rejected it and attached himself to the naturalness expected and desired; but in reality throughout his whole being he remains still as he was, that is, saturated with sin, and in the soul in all powers and in the body in all functions passions still exist as before, with the only difference that previously all this was desired, chosen, and acted upon by man with desire and pleasure, now it is not desired, not chosen, but hated, trampled, pursued. Man in this has gone out of himself as it were from a stinking corpse, and sees what sort of passion-stench each part of him gives off, and against his will sometimes smells, to the point of dimming his mind, all the stench given off by himself.

Thus true grace-given life in man at first is only a seed, a spark; but a seed sown amid thorns, a spark covered from all sides with ashes. This is still a weak candle, shining in the densest fog. In consciousness and will man has clung to God, and God has received him, united with him in this self-conscious and willing power, or mind and spirit, as is spoken of by the holy Antony and Makarios the Great. And all that is good, saved, and pleasing to God in man is only this. All the other parts are still in captivity and neither wish nor are able yet to yield to the demands of the new life: the mind does not know how to think in a new way but thinks in the old way; the will does not know how to will in a new way but wills in the old way; the heart does not know how to feel in a new way but feels in the old way. The same is true in the body in all its functions. Consequently he is wholly unclean except for the one point constituted by the conscious and free power—mind or spirit. God the most pure unites with this one part only; all the other parts, as unclean, remain outside him, strange to him, though he is ready to fill all of man, but does not do so because man is unclean. Then, as soon as he is cleansed, God immediately shows his complete indwelling. St Gregory of Sinai writes: “If our nature is not preserved through the Spirit from defilement and does not become clean as it was, then neither in this life nor in the future life will it be able to unite with Christ in one body and spirit; for the all-encompassing and uniting power of the Spirit is not accustomed to sew a new garment of grace in restoration to worn-out rags of passion.” The Lord cannot dwell completely—the dwelling is not yet prepared; grace cannot pour forth into him completely—the vessel is still flawed. To do this would mean to squander and ruin spiritual treasures. “For what do light and darkness have in common, or what fellowship” “has Christ with Belial?” (2 Cor 6:14–15). And the Lord, when promising to come with the Father and make his dwelling, sets as an indispensable condition the fulfillment of the commandments—of course, all the commandments; otherwise, right activity in all things, which is impossible without the righteousness of the powers, and the righteousness of the powers without the removal from them of the coming unrighteousness, or the casting away of sinfulness and passion. To this can be somewhat applied the following passage: “If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in light, as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another” (1 Jn 1:6–7). This darkness is the darkness of passions, for afterward John in similar places uses animosity and threefold lust in place of it (see 1 Jn 2:10–11, 16). Light, by contrast, is the light of virtues; and again for the same reason, for afterward light is replaced by virtues in his usage. From this it is evident that true standing in the perfection of communion with God is only possible when the darkness of passions has been driven away and the light of virtues has shone forth, when they have been inscribed and have grown together as it were with our being, have clothed and penetrated our powers, expelling and driving out passions from them so as to be no longer merely reflected but self-luminous. Until then communion with God is so hidden, so unknown, that it may seem non-existent and to a certain degree must be considered unreliable, uncertain, incomplete, or not corresponding to itself.

Thus the fact that the Lord, having come into union with man’s spirit, does not immediately fill or dwell completely in him depends not on him, ready to fill all, but on us, namely on the passions mixed with our nature’s powers, not yet removed from them and not yet replaced by opposite virtues. “Sinful passions,” says St Anthony the Great, “do not allow God to shine in us.” If then the chief goal to which the penitent must strive is complete communion with God, luminous and blessed, and the chief obstacle to this is the presence of passions still existing and acting within him, the imprinting of virtues and the wrongness of the powers, then it is evident that his chief work, immediately after conversion and repentance, must be the eradication of passions and the imprinting of virtues—in a word, the correction of himself. The removal of all that is wrong and the taking or placing of what is right, the expulsion of sinful passions, habits, defects, even those seeming natural, and other wrongs, and the appropriation of virtues, good character, rules, and complete correctness in all respects, while not losing sight of the ultimate goal, but striving against passions with all zeal, keeping meanwhile the eyes of the mind turned toward God—in this consists the initial principle that must be held in building up the entire order of a life pleasing to God, by which the straight and crooked of invented rules and undertaken labors must be measured. One must assure oneself of this as fully as possible, because all working errors seem to proceed from ignorance of this principle. Not understanding its power, some stop at mere external practice and striving, others at good works alone and habit in them, going no further, and still others go straight to contemplation. All this is necessary, but each has its time. At first all is seed; then it develops not exclusively but predominantly in one or another part, yet graduality is inevitable—ascent from external labors to internal, and from both these to contemplation, not the reverse.

Having assured ourselves of this, we can now easily extract guiding rules for a life pleasing to God, or the spirit and character of ascetical practice.

Let us turn back a little and again stand in attention before the man who has devoted himself to God and made a vow to act always and in all things according to his will, for his glory, to grow truly rich in good works. Having decided on this, by what else can he act in this manner, when, as we have seen, neither one nor the other of our parts is capable of it? Sin is hated in the spirit, but the body and soul sympathize with it, cling to it, because they are clothed in passions. Good or God’s will is loved in the spirit, but the body and soul do not sympathize with it, turn away from it, or, if not that, do not know how to do it. Therefore one who has decided, from his zeal, to remain faithful to his vow and, from conscious necessity, to remain in good, must inevitably in every good deed (and there should be no bad ones for him) oppose the demands of his body and soul and, refusing them, compel them to the contrary. And since the body and soul do not leave him but constitute him, this is the same as opposing oneself in what is evil and compelling oneself toward good. Self-opposition and self-compulsion—these are two forms of the zeal reborn in the spirit, the formal principles as it were of ascetical practice. Both constitute man’s struggle with himself, or in other words, labor.

From this the converted penitent, from the first moments of the new life, inevitably enters into labor, into struggle, into toil, and begins to bear weight and a yoke. And this is so essential that the only true path of virtue recognized by all saints is its painfulness and ardorousness, while the ease contrary to it is a sign of a false path: “The Kingdom” of God “is forcefully entered, and violent men seize it” (Mt 11:12). Whoever is not in struggle, not in labor, is in delusion. The Apostle says: whoever does not endure is not a son (see Heb 12:7–8).

Thus the one striving zealously strives in the labors of self-compulsion and self-opposition for the purpose of self-correction, or bringing himself to the purity of the first-created state, so as to the sooner be granted communion with God. It is evident that the more vigorously, carefully, and swiftly he does this, the more successfully he attains his goal. It is the same as to say: the more hateful and hostile he goes against himself, the more sharply and decisively he acts, the sooner he enters into purity. For this reason we see that all saints who have ascended to the height of Christian perfection, immediately after conversion, began the strictest labors of self-mortification—fasts, vigils, lying on a hard bed, solitude, and so forth. This was a consciously chosen, grace-inspired measure, adopted for the quicker ripening, and it indeed came quickly. On the contrary, ease, stops, self-pity, even if not constant, always slowed and slow the pace of spiritual ripening.

Thus the task of one who has decided: strive, take up the labors more decidedly, the same more decisive and well-suited ones—after all, among them some contribute more and others less to the mortification of passions and the imprinting of virtues. If this suffering state is unavoidable, though temporary, what sense is there in dragging out this work through mere carelessness? Indecision, carelessness, sluggishness—these are great obstacles.

You have decided, so do not stand still but fight; this is from man’s side. But in doing so, one must constantly keep in mind that, though merciless zeal toward oneself is salvific for the converted, nonetheless the success and fruit of his labors and works, that is, their working and influence on the cleansing of passions and the formation of true virtue—is not from him. The fruit of works is sown and ripens under them, but not by them and not through them alone, but from grace. “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth” (1 Cor 3:6). As spiritual life began through God’s grace, so it can only be preserved and ripened by it. He who began a good work in you, says the Apostle, “will carry it on to completion” (cf. Phil 1:6). The first seed of the new life consists of the union of freedom and grace, and its ripening will be the development of these same elements. As there, in making a vow to live according to God’s will, for his glory, the penitent said: “Only you strengthen and confirm me,” so at all subsequent times he must constantly place himself, as it were, in God’s hand with the prayer: “You yourself complete what is pleasing to your will,” so that thus, as in consciousness and will, so also in reality God might be “working in us both to will and to do according to his good pleasure” (Phil 2:13). The moment in which man believes he can produce something in himself and in his own being is the moment of the extinction of true, spiritual, grace-filled life. In this state, despite immense labors, there is no true fruit. There are consequences which cannot be called bad if looked at separately; but in the course of the work they are a stop and a deviation, and often evil, for they lead to pride and conceit, which are Satan’s seed, sown by him and kindred with him. And in this, something not God’s is mixed into God’s work in us and corrupts it, so that instead of uplifting the repenting man, grace will first need to purify and cast away that which has been corrupted by self-doing. “Do” you not know “that Christ is in you”—teaches the Apostle—“unless indeed you fail the test” (cf. 2 Cor 13:5). Having united with the Lord in the Mystery of repentance or baptism, we should give ourselves to him, so that, having entered into us himself, as Lord of all, he, “by the judgments he knows,” might arrange our salvation. The Lord said: “Apart from me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5)—we must believe and ask that he work in us, that he cleanse us of passions, imprint virtues in us, and do all that is healing. This is the essential disposition of the penitent: “By the judgments you know, save me, Lord, and I will labor and sincerely, without deflection, without evasion, by pure conscience do all that I understand and am able to do.” Whoever so disposes himself within is truly received by the Lord and he works in him as a king. His teacher is God, his intercessor is God, his willer and doer is God, his fruitbearer is God, his ruler is God. This is the seed and heart of the heavenly tree of life in him. But for this an immaterial-material enclosure is absolutely necessary. This enclosure is constituted by a guide and rules.

The penitent, having given himself to God, immediately comes under his direct guidance and is received by him. Whoever accomplishes this as it should be at the beginning, is led swiftly, evenly, and with good hope by God’s grace to perfection. But in reality there are very few such people. These are God’s chosen ones, who with an incredible rush from themselves placed themselves in God’s hands, were received and guided by him. Such were, for example, Mary of Egypt, Paul of Thebes, Marcus the Fantastic, and others. What saved them was one decisive surrender of themselves to God. For Mary of Egypt, in all her fierce struggles with passions, the rule was to cast herself into God’s hand, and the passions departed, as is known, through the work. She doubtless did the same in other cases: turned, for example, to him for understanding and received it.

But such a path was not and could not be universal. It belonged and belongs to God’s special chosen ones. All the others ripen under the visible guidance of experienced men. Standing in the faith that only God causes growth, the penitent, in order to succeed, must absolutely give himself to a father-guide. The necessity of this appears because there is no complete surrender of oneself to God—a deficiency belonging to the majority. Many experiences must precede it and growth through it, and until it is formed there is no point where the guiding hand of the Lord could touch—no as it were bridle by which he should be led. Consequently, without this condition, the beginner who himself does the work of salvation will inevitably walk a path about which one cannot decisively say that it is the true path, and this is both dangerous and agonizing for the spirit. St Anthony the Great, when he came to the thought of whether his rules were correct, immediately began to cry out: “Tell me, Lord, the way,” and having received assurance, was comforted. One entering the spiritual life is like one entering an ordinary path. Since this path is unknown to us, someone must guide us. It would be presumptuous to stop at the thought that I myself can…. No, here neither rank nor learning—nothing helps. It is no less presumptuous if someone, without extreme necessity, having the opportunity to find a guide, does not choose him, thinking that God will lead him directly. Indeed, the guidance to perfection belongs to God, who has received us, but under the guidance of a father. The father does not raise us to degrees, but helps us to be raised by God. Yet in the ordinary order, God leads us through others, grants us understanding, cleanses us, tells us his will. Left alone with himself, one is in extreme danger, not to mention that he will strike and thresh on one spot almost without any fruit. Not knowing either the spiritual labors and exercises, nor the order in them, he will only make and redo, like one undertaking work without knowledge. Often for this reason many get stuck, grow cold, and lose zeal. But the chief danger for him is from internal disorder and Satan’s deception. In the beginner there is within—fog, as if from the exhalations of the stinking passions and wrong issuing from himself, from the corrupted powers. It is in everyone, more or less dense, depending on the preceding corruption. But in the fog how well and truly can one distinguish objects? One wandering in fog often sees a small stand of grass as a forest or a village—so too the beginner in spiritual activity will inevitably see much where nothing actually exists. Only the experienced eye can clarify and explain what is the matter. And again, he is sick: how will he be a physician to himself? He will exhaust and strangle himself from mere love of himself: after all, the sick do not heal themselves. But the chief danger is from Satan. Since he himself is chiefly self-opinionated, among men he especially loves those guided by their own mind—on this he especially tangles and destroys them. And one can say that this alone gives him access to us, or the possibility of hurling us into ruin. Whoever does not trust his reason and heart but instead offers everything in his feeling and thought to the judgment of another, will not suffer, even if the devil has sown something dangerous and ruinous, because the experience and reason of another will see through the delusion and warn him. Therefore they say: whoever has a guide and trusts him is not approached by Satan, so as not to be constantly shamed and have all his schemes exposed. On the contrary, he is constantly with one who trusts only himself or places his reason and relies on it. Such a one, through various fair appearances stamped through imagination or the faculty of fancy, he leads along various byways, until at last he destroys him completely.

Judging by these weighty reasons, the beginner must agree to have a guide, choose him, and give himself to him. Under him he is safe, as under cover and protection—he will be answerable both to God and to men for infidelities. But it is wonderful that to one seeking sincerely the true guide is always given. And a guide, whoever he might be, always gives exact and true guidance as soon as the one being guided gives himself to him with all his soul and faith. The Lord himself already watches over such a committed one. Pray—and the Lord will show you a guide; give yourself to the guide—and the Lord will teach him how to guide you.

Another thing absolutely necessary for the penitent who has decided is rules. A rule is a determination or manner, form, and institution of some activity—whether inner or outer. It gives direction and determines the entire course—the beginning, time, place, turns, end of action. So, for example, one must read—this is one of the ascetical practices. The rule must determine: what books to read, at what time, how much, how to prepare, how to begin, continue and end, what to do with what has been read. The same applies to prayer, consideration, and other practices. It is evident that rules embrace every practice, constitute its outer shell, as it were its body. They must be applied to all our powers, to all expressions of our activity in such a way that no movement is performed without its proper rule.

The necessity of this is self-evident. A completely new, unusual life begins, in which we have not yet exercised ourselves, to which our powers are unaccustomed. In order to accustom ourselves to this or that practice and strengthen ourselves in it, one must set definite rules—what to do and how, just as a young soldier is shown how to stand, take his rifle, and so forth. Without them the powers will not develop, and there will be no correct activity. One will not know how to pray who has no rule for prayer, or to fast without a fasting rule; in general, one without rules will not know how to do anything properly, and consequently his life will not be a life, despite labor and sweat, for life is made up of our activities. Moreover, life without rules cannot be even, and smoothly and harmoniously developed. A child is swaddled so that he does not become a cripple or humpbacked: so too all spiritual activity must be wrapped in rules, purposefully, so that the entire life develops under them evenly and harmoniously, no single activity takes on, through ignorance, a direction standing out from others and harmful to the whole structure, nor does it itself fall into a false path, as, for example, fasting might. A young plant is braced or tied to a strong one so it will stand and grow straight. One developing without rules by himself is uneducated, unskilled, unable to do some things, doing others wrongly, and still others rightly but inopportunely or unsuitably. Finally, there is no small danger: without rules, as without support, one inevitably falls and errs. For such a person all activity hangs on the presence of spirit, deliberation, and desire. But can one rely on such foundations? One cannot always preserve the presence of spirit; deliberation must be educated and, besides, it is not always active, keen, and grows dull; and who can control desire constantly? Therefore, without rules, gaps, errors, and stops are inevitable. With rules, it is one thing: whether one wishes it or not, do as established, and it will be done; there will be no stop, and one will move forward. And moreover: how else to bridle arbitrariness and self-direction—these most dangerous dispositions?

Thus with rules, under the guidance of a father, the one striving zealously, laboring in self-compulsion and self-opposition or remaining in unceasing struggle, will day by day advance in perfection, approach purity through the eradication of his passions and the acquisition of virtues. But one must know that this ascent to perfection is invisible to him: he labors in sweat but as if without fruit—grace builds its work under a covering. Human vision eats up the good. What remains for man is the vision of his own worthlessness. The path to perfection is the path to the consciousness that I am blind, poor, and naked, standing in unbroken connection with which is brokenness of spirit, or sickness and sorrow over one’s uncleanness, poured out before God, or, which is the same, unceasing repentance. Repentant feelings are the distinctive signs of true ascetical practice. Whoever turns away from them and avoids them has turned away from the path. At the beginning of the new life was repentance; it should also be in growth and should mature together with it. The one maturing matures in the knowledge of his corruption and sinfulness and deepens into the broken feelings of repentance. Tears are the measure of progress, and unceasing tears are a sign of approaching purification. That this should be so is evident from the fact that we are in a fall, in exile, outside the hearth of home, and moreover for our own fault. The exile weeps and laments for home; so too those beginning to journey toward purification should mourn and lament and in tears seek return to the paradise of purity. Moreover, the laboring one is constantly in struggle, now with unwillingness, now with reluctance; moment after moment thoughts, desires, passions, even unintentional sin, cloud the purity of his mind and remind him that within himself he harbors only uncleanness, sinfulness, opposition to God. He sees himself like a stinking corpse lying before him and tormenting the sense of smell to the point of dimming the head. “Set your sins before you,” says Anthony the Great, “and see through them toward God.” Finally, frequent falls and stumbles in beginners from inexperience, ignorance, lack of skill, and sometimes from weakness, lie heavily on his conscience and perhaps more heavily than before: in carelessness large sins go unnoticed. He resembles a child learning to walk and falling. Falls require purification, and therefore brokenness, repentance, tears; therefore everyone is commanded daily and even every minute repentance. “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”—this should be the unceasing prayer of the laborer.

Thus the beginner with ardent and swift zeal gives himself to the very decisive labors, expecting everything, however, from the strength and help of God and giving himself to him, in the hope of success but not of seeing it, and therefore in unceasing beginning, under the guidance of a father, amid rules, always holding to the humblest part.

In such a spirit and character the ascetic can hopefully begin his work—the work of eradicating passions, or cleansing his nature from the admixture of unnatural passion. In his spirit there is strong, firm ardor; but even the strongest ardor needs a plan to go truly toward the intended goal. In its exposition will consist all the rules for one entering upon labor. It will be nothing other than the exposition of those rules whose necessity has been shown above. Knowledge of this above all should belong to the guide of general theory and, applying himself to the person guided, can and should change them in circumstances that admit change.

To construct such rules, let us again confirm in our thought the state of the penitent-laborer. The spirit in him is resurrected and enlivened by the action of grace received in the Mysteries. But only he alone is the healed part, hidden in the very depths of our being. It is as if a healing remedy, taken by one part of a body wholly diseased. Then, outside him, his soul in all its powers and his body in all its functions, and he himself as a person in all his external relations, are filled through and through and saturated with passion, not dead but living and active in them. The chief task of the labors is to mortify passion in all its shades and restore nature to its proper purity, so that through this grace from within, as purification progresses, might emerge, as if penetrating in man one part after another, with wise graduality and purposefulness. From this is immediately evident the whole order of the rules that are to be constructed, or the thread by which to conduct and draw them. Thus:

The seed of life has been sown: keep it with all vigilance; otherwise there is nothing to which to apply labors and nothing with which to bear them. You have received the Spirit—do not quench the Spirit; you are zealous—be zealous for greater. Guard what has been given, what has been acquired—this acquisition is the coin with which to buy treasures. It will be lost—and the whole work is lost. As in time of war one greatly cares to hold one’s position by all means, so too here.

One must tear away passion that has grown together and mixed with the powers of our nature. Since this growing together is like the growing together of chemical compounds, the means of separation must be applied to the means of chemical decomposition. Namely, to free an element from its constrained state in combination with another, it is brought into contact with a third, outside, external one, with which it would be in stronger affinity than with the previous one. When this truly happens, the element binding it falls away, and with this new one it unites and receives together with it a new form. Applying this to our case, we must apply something to all powers of soul and body and all our activity, held captive by passion and kept in a constrained, unnatural state, with which they would be in closest affinity and kinship, so that thus in applying and as it were cleaving to it, proportionately with this they might be freed from the bonds of passion and take on a new natural form of being. This will be the rule of practices or occupations, imposed on the powers. Walking in them, while preserving that inner acquisition of the Divine grace Spirit, kindred with them and with the powers of our nature, man will increasingly be filled with this Spirit, whose fire, receiving thus greater freedom to penetrate within, will the faster burn away uncleanness, the greater the expansion of nature it encounters.

These two points exhaust the order of positive practices of the laborer, or in other words, exercises in self-compulsion. With them alone one could suffice if the despised and forsaken passion in favor of good would remain at rest or peacefully evaporate from our nature; but since it, partly from the natural stubbornness of sin, partly from its strong support either from its strong originating source—the devil—or from the storehouse of kindred to him elements of the world, does not tolerate peaceful, compliant submission, and even after falling away and as it were separating, arises again and seeks to occupy its former place, powerful and binding—one cannot by that activity alone suffice, but with it one must also act directly against the passions, stand against them face to face, fight them and vanquish them both in ourselves and in their sources and supporters. The determination of rules relating to this will constitute the depiction of internal, or spiritual, warfare, both in its general outline and in its parts. These are the labors of self-opposition.

Thus all rules must be reduced to one following initial rule: keep the inner spirit of life, zeal and fervor, walk in practices and exercises, which on the one hand assist in reviving the mortified powers and on the other hand mortify or suppress the passions. Consequently, everything relating to this must be embraced in these three points: rules for preserving the inner spirit of fervor, rules for exercising the powers in good, or self-compulsion, and rules for warfare with the passions, or exercise in self-opposition.

On the Preservation of the Spirit of Fervor Toward God

We must fulfill the commandments, and fulfill all of them; but we have no natural desire, zeal, or fervor for this. In repentance, on account of the contrite spirit and the vow to do God’s will, this fire of fervor is kindled in our spirit by divine grace; it alone is the power to fulfill the commandments and is alone capable of bearing all this burden. If fulfillment of the commandments is the foundation of salvation, then the spirit of fervor is our only saving power. Where it is, there is care, zeal, readiness, liveliness in deeds pleasing to God. Where it is not, everything stops and falls: there is no life of the spirit—it grows cold and dies. There let there be even the doing of good works—they will be good only in form, not in force and spirit. This is the fire that our Lord Jesus Christ came to kindle on earth and which is kindled by the Holy Spirit in the hearts of believers, descended in the form of fiery tongues.

Of this spirit of fervor the Lord says: “I have come to bring fire” to the earth (Lk 12:49). The Apostle commands “do not quench the Spirit” (1 Thess 5:19) and bears witness of himself: “I press on toward the goal” (Phil 3:14). And in the holy fathers it is called variously: seeking, intention, zeal, striving, warmth of spirit, burning, and simply fervor.

Judging by this great importance and great significance of fervor, the first work of the Christian laborer must be the preservation of this fervor and zeal as the source power of a life pleasing to God. To preserve, consequently, means to use special types of methods and practices that contribute to this. What exactly are they? Fervor should be preserved by the same path by which it was born, and it was born by an inner change of heart under the invisible action of divine grace.

The inner, invisible ascent of our spirit to fervor began with grace-filled awakening and ended with the decisive vow to walk unfailingly in God’s will. In this ascent the strictest graduality was observed. A sinful man, living wholly without and therefore called external, is pressed within himself by the coming grace and here, as if awakened from sleep, beholds a completely new world, hitherto unknown to him. This is the first thrust, after which, with God’s help, through various thoughts and feelings, he gradually frees himself from the first world, enters into the other, and falls before the King of it and his Lord, offering him a solemn covenant to be his servant forever. Thus, whoever wishes to keep fervor unextinguished must: a) remain within, b) behold the new world, and c) stand in those thoughts and feelings through which he, as if by the steps of a ladder, ascended to the footstool of the Lord’s Throne.

This is what must be the unceasing practice, labor, and work of the Christian laborer!

Inner Dwelling

When a hen finds grain and alerts her chicks to it, they fly from wherever they are to gather around her, turning their beaks toward the point where the grain is. In just this way, when Divine grace acts upon a person in the heart, the spirit penetrates there with consciousness, and then all the powers of soul and body follow. Hence the law for inner dwelling: keep your consciousness in the heart and gather there, with tensioned effort, all the powers of soul and body. Inner dwelling properly is the enclosure of consciousness in the heart; the tensioned gathering of soul and body’s powers there is the essential means—the practice, the effort. Yet they mutually give rise to and presuppose each other, so that neither exists without the other. Whoever is enclosed in the heart is gathered; whoever is gathered is in the heart.

Around consciousness in the heart, one must gather with all one’s powers: intellect, will, and feeling. The gathering of intellect in the heart is attention; the gathering of will is vigilance; the gathering of feeling is sobriety. Attention, vigilance, sobriety—these are the three inner practices through which self-gathering is accomplished and inner dwelling acts. Whoever has all three is inward; whoever lacks even one is outside. Following such practices of soul, the corresponding bodily organs must be directed there as well: with attention, there is a turning of the gaze inward; with vigilance, a tensioning of muscles throughout the body in the direction of the breast; with sobriety, a pressing back of the fluid, as Nikiphoros says, the relaxing movements that flow toward the heart from the lower parts of the body, and a suppression of pleasure and the body’s comfort. Such bodily practices, acting inseparably with those of the soul, are the most powerful aid to those soul-means, without which they cannot exist.

Thus all the practice of inner dwelling through self-gathering consists in this: In the first moment upon waking from sleep, as soon as you become aware, descend inward to the heart, to that physical breast: then summon, draw, and tense toward it all your soul and body’s powers—with the attention of intellect, turning your gaze there; with the vigilance of will, tensioning your muscles; with sobriety of feeling, suppressing pleasure and the body’s comfort—and do this until consciousness settles there as in its own seat, adheres, cleaves like something sticky to a solid wall; and then remain there unmoving while you have consciousness, often repeating that same practice of gathering both to renew it and to strengthen it, for it weakens and becomes disturbed moment by moment.

You must know that this inner dwelling and gathering is not the same as abstraction in contemplation or pondering (from the word “to become absorbed in thought”), though it resembles it greatly. The latter rests only in the departure of intellect, leaving other powers unoccupied, and is held in the head; this rests in the heart, in the source of all movements, deeper and lower than anything that exists and happens in us—or rather, it happens such that all of this occurs already above it, before its gaze, and is either permitted or forbidden. From this it is self-evident that inner dwelling, in its true form, is the condition of true human dominion over oneself, and therefore of true freedom and reasonableness, and hence of true spiritual life. It is like dominion of a city in the outer world belonging to whoever occupies its fortress. Therefore every spiritual practice and every podvig whatsoever must be accomplished from this place; otherwise it is not spiritual, is not worthy of the ascetic struggle, and should be rejected. “The Kingdom of God is within you”, says the Lord (Lk. 17:21), and then for a single spiritual practice He commanded: “Enter into your chamber and shut the door” (Mt. 6:6). This is the chamber of the heart, according to the understanding of all the holy fathers. For this reason a spiritual person, one being saved, one laboring in the struggle, is called inner.

That gathering inward is the most fitting means to preserve zeal is at once evident:

The gathered must burn, for he gathers all powers into one, just as scattered rays, when gathered to a single point, reveal intense heat and ignite. And indeed, with gathering is always joined warmth: the spirit here sees itself with itself, as Nikiphoros says, and plays with joy.

The gathered is strong, like an arrayed army or a bundle of weak reeds bound together. This, like the girding of the loins, signifies readiness and strength to act. The ungathered is always weak and either falls or does nothing.

The gathered beholds all in himself. Whoever is at the center beholds along all radii, sees everything in the circle equally and as if at once, whereas one who has stepped out from the center sees along the direction of only one radius; in just this way, too, whoever is gathered inward sees all movements of his powers—sees them and can govern them. The burning of the spirit—its intensity and vision—these constitute true zealous spirit, which is composed of them. Therefore it should be said: only be inward, and you will not cease to be zealous.

So great is the significance of inner dwelling! Therefore one must labor to acquire it, for it does not appear at once but in time and with much seeking. It is placed first because it is the condition of spiritual life. Its perfection depends on the perfection of the three soul-practices and three body-practices that produce it: the attention of intellect with the turning of the gaze inward, the vigilance of will with the tensioning of the body, and the sobriety of the heart with the suppression of pleasure and the body’s comfort. It will be fully manifest when purity of intellect from thoughts, purity of will from desires, and purity of heart from attachments and passions have been acquired. But even before that time it is still inner dwelling, though imperfect, unripe, not continuous.

Hence it is self-evident what means lead to unceasing inner dwelling, or rather, there is one means: remove everything that can disturb the three practices indicated in their twofold combination, or everything that can draw outward the soul’s powers with their corresponding bodily functions: intellect and senses, will and muscles, heart and flesh. Senses are distracted by external impressions, intellect by thoughts, muscles by laxity of limbs, will by desires, flesh by comfort, heart by captivity or attachment to something. Consequently, keep intellect free from thoughts, senses free from distraction, will free from desires, muscles without slackness, heart without captivity, flesh without indulgence and comfort. So the condition and at the same time the means to inner dwelling is: in the soul, struggle against thoughts, desires, and heart’s captivities; in the body, its binding and restraint, and following from these, a change in one’s external order. Judging by this, all the subsequent podvigs directed toward the mortification of self-will are at once means to inner dwelling as well.

This is why in the teachings of the holy fathers (the teaching on sobriety, the guarding of the intellect), inner life is always set in inseparable connection with ascetic struggle. Yet gathering is not the same as struggle. It is a particular spiritual practice, the foundational one. It is the place where all spiritual doing takes place—struggle, reading, godly contemplation, and prayer. Whatever the laborer does, he must first enter inward and act from there.

Vision of the Other World

“Strive to enter the chamber within you, and you will see the heavenly chamber,” says Saint Isaac of Syria. And indeed, he who enters into himself sees another, as it were, world, like an immense chamber, invisible and unimaginable, yet impressed upon consciousness, in which, however, man does not see himself or what happens within him, for all of that must fall silent—and does fall silent. At the first moment of grace calling, together with entering inward, this world opens, independently of man, whether he wills it or not. After that, the vision of it, just as inner dwelling itself, is entrusted to man’s freedom and must be practiced. Such practice, as a reproduction of the second transformation, in man’s ascent to resolve and zeal, is the second means of preserving and kindling zeal.

It consists in maintaining in consciousness and feeling all the structure of the spiritual world. Just as one who enters a room is called to behold it when he holds its entirety in consciousness, with all its arrangement, so too will one who enters into himself, as at a threshold, behold the other world when he impresses its entire structure upon his consciousness. Everything related to this will be fulfilled when the intellect understands what this structure of the spiritual world is, when it impresses it in consciousness, or becomes enclosed in it with consciousness, and stands in it unmoving.

All the structure of the spiritual, invisible, intelligible, yet nonetheless real world can briefly be expressed thus: God the One, worshiped in Trinity, Who created all things and sustains all things, restores, or, as the Apostle says, recapitulates (Eph. 1:10) all things in our Lord Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit acting in the Holy Church, Who, upon perfecting the faithful, transfers them to another world, and this will continue until the time of the fulfillment of all, or the end of ages, when, after the resurrection and judgment, to each is given according to their works: some will fall into hell, others will dwell in paradise, and “God will be all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28).

This is the all-encompassing frame of all that truly exists, happens, and will be. Here briefly is all the content of Divine revelation. Everything possible and actual enters here and exists here. This is also the content of the Creed. The principal subjects here are: God’s almightiness, the economy of salvation, and the four last things—death, judgment, paradise, and hell. These are precisely the subjects that the holy bishop of Christ, Tikhon, commanded all Christians to remember unceasingly from infancy to the grave.

This structure the laboring Christian must impress upon his intellect, that is, bring it to clear clarity of consciousness, or enter into it so deeply, or receive it so fully within, that it becomes as it were bound upon him—so merge with it that consciousness cannot move without feeling it within or upon itself, just as one cannot move the hand without shaking the air, or open the eyes without submitting to the strikes of light. The best means to this: establishing oneself in this structure, just as one who surveys himself sees himself established in a known proportionate relationship with all things surrounding him—establishment, consequently, in God’s almightiness, in His right hand, feeling oneself held by Him, pervaded by Him and seen by Him, or, as the great Basil says, remembering that you are being observed; establishment in participation in the economy of salvation, as a member of the Church, sensing, according to Chrysostom, that you are a warrior of Christ and enrolled in that city; establishment in death and judgment, with your gaze turning now toward paradise, now toward hell.

This establishment does not come all at once… It is the goal. Seeking it, practicing with the purpose of acquiring it, is an intellectual podvig, most laborious and prolonged, but one cannot say it is complicated. All of it consists in simple, tensioned gazing of the intellect upon these subjects. See yourself held by God’s right hand and seen by God’s eye, being saved in the Lord, standing in death, under judgment, so that as a result you will either receive paradise or be consumed by hell. All labor at first is directed only at seeing all this. When someone once achieves this vision, afterward they will see it more easily and more often; and the more continuously, intensely, and earnestly one practices this, the sooner one attains unceasing vision, or, in other words, standing in the spiritual world, before God, in the Church, in the hour of death and judgment, in the vestibule of hell or paradise.

The final goal of this practice is standing in the spiritual world, or as it were, feeling oneself in it. Precisely: in relation to God’s almightiness, being in such a feeling as a child in its mother’s arms; toward God’s all-seeing, as a subject before a king; toward the economy of salvation, as a warrior in formation, or a son in his father’s house, or a craftsman at his work, or a companion in a circle of friends, or a member of one’s own family; toward death and judgment, as a criminal awaiting a verdict at every moment; toward paradise and hell, as standing on the narrowest plank, with an abyss seething with fire on one side and a most beautiful garden on the other. Whom the Lord deigns to grant receiving all this into feeling—of him one must say that he has departed from this world and abides in another by his consciousness and heart, that he has entered the Kingdom of God or received it within himself. “The Kingdom of God is within you”. This departure from the present world and entry into another must be set as a goal and constitutes the object of tensioned seeking.

The condition for this is, self-evidently, inner dwelling, in inseparable connection with which this awakens, ripens, and is perfected, so that when unceasing inner dwelling is formed, there is also formed a standing in the divine world; and conversely: only when standing in the other world is strengthened is inner dwelling truly full of hope.

The actual practice consists, as has been said, in compelling oneself to gaze upon these subjects as often as possible, with a desire for unceasing vision of them. From the first moment of awakening to consciousness, enter inward and with all possible tensioning place yourself in this arrangement and order. At first it is better to establish your gaze on a single subject and behold it until it is impressed, and then move to others. When you have gone through all, the entire arrangement can be grasped in a single moment. Some distribute this practice by days, others by parts of the day: for example, about death after dinner, as each finds suitable or senses the spirit most inclined. One law alone must be observed—do not change often, for this robs the practice of all its fruit. Also, one should not lose sight of the fact that this changing vision is only a means, while the goal is unceasing standing in all that order. Whoever, having grown accustomed to seeing one thing, does not move to another, has stopped on the path and deceives himself, imagining he already possesses what he only began to pursue or began to seek. Having grown skilled in one, always move through it to the next, both so as not to lose what was gained through labor and to thereby prepare yourself for the swifter impression of the next. Remember that this is not pondering but the unmoved vision of the intellect, or faith in that subject; movement of intellect toward thought, as an involuntary chance occurrence, happens, but is not counseled, is not approved, and should be cut short as soon as you are aware of it.

To aid the more successful passage through this practice and perfection in it, one can take a passage of Scripture relating to one or another subject and repeat it unceasingly throughout the day or longer, for example: “Where can I go?” (Ps. 138:7); “It is appointed once to die, and after that comes judgment” (Heb. 9:27); “You are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath” (Rom. 2:5); “There is no other name by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12), and so on; keep an image of death, the cross, or the Last Judgment and place it where it will often and involuntarily strike your gaze; choose books and articles that sharply depict these subjects, and conversations, if they arise, with the like-minded about the same; more often remember the unseen and unexpected judgments of God, cases of death, deceased loved ones and their state, see yourself on your deathbed, watch funerals. All this strikes the human spirit more sharply if he stands in these subjects during prayer. With God’s help, by this means the impression is made very quickly. One need only not cast aside the subject impressed during prayer but keep it with you for as long as possible, even if only several days, trying to maintain the impression through writing, reading, conversation, or other means. It is good to exert yourself mentally to impress all of them together, to see them at once, or at least in sequence all at the same time. Best of all, however, recite the Creed as often as you can, also exerting yourself to see all its truths at once. Effort, tension, exertion will soon bring you to the desired goal; only do not weaken, do not break off, but keep doing and doing, even if you see no fruit or skill. Years will pass without fruit, but a single moment will give the tireless laborer in the vineyard of the Kingdom of Christ, for his steadfastness in labor and patient zeal.

Such vision of the other world is able to sustain and kindle the spirit of zeal in that it furnishes a true field for the zealous spirit’s action. “You are not of this world,” says Chrysostom, “but of another; therefore, you must act as if in that world, and to do so, you must see it.” On the other hand, whoever sees it will constantly have before his gaze a sort of norm and model, reminding him not to go astray, not to do something crooked. This is good even if someone only beheld these subjects with intellect. But if someone comes to the blessing of receiving them into feeling, even if only slightly, that person’s zeal is lifted instantly to great intensity. All the holy fathers call them the “pricks (stings, thorns) of the future.” Whatever of this is received in feeling, it will not allow the one who received it to sin. “Remember”, teaches Sirach, “your last things, and you will never sin” (Sir. 7:39). “I have set God always before me,” testifies the prophet David, “so that I will not be shaken” (Ps. 15:8). Makarios the Great was, as he himself says, dried up by remembrance of the fire of Gehenna, while others wept incessantly from the memory of death. And there are many sayings among the holy fathers about these subjects and about how powerfully they strain the human spirit and kindle zeal. One who comes to feeling their vision sees himself in great tightness, and in extreme circumstances, as is known, the straining is very intense.

Standing in Feelings That Lead to Resolve

But all this is only preparation, condition, and means to kindle zeal. The restoration of the most decisive zealousness and strong earnestness is accomplished through the reproduction of those feelings and thoughts through which, following awakening from sinful slumber, one ascended to it.

Upon awakening you saw yourself in extreme danger, perishing, in great distress and sorrow; now rouse again this same feeling of danger and extremity, for they are truly present. Be in fear and do not allow yourself to think or comfort yourself that all has passed by.

Then you, breaking free from all, spat on and despised everything, choosing other goods—bodiless, invisible, spiritual: now too break free, spit upon all, and incline toward the invisible, spiritual; behold it and strive to love it.

You broke free then from people-pleasing: now too count yourself lower than all; hold yourself ready for contempt and reproach of every kind.

You deemed all as nothing then: now too prize nothing; carry readiness, having cast all away, to remain naked.

Self-pity was trampled by you then: rise now to readiness for the harshest crosses and continue your self-mortification.

Then you examined your life: continue now to grow in self-knowledge; study the Gospel commandments and see what is lacking in you; there the seed was planted—now make it grow.

Then, knowing your sinful life, you saw yourself without defense and grieved: do not cease now to stand without defense before the face of Divine righteousness; always condemn yourself in all things without any excuse or cunning flattery, hate your own will, desire, and understanding; smite yourself with shame and fear of hopelessness; see yourself hanging over an abyss and unworthy of mercy. Then you arose spiritually, and in faith in the Lord and trusting in His help, you made a vow to serve Him earnestly all the days of your life, even to tormenting yourself without mercy; and now call out: “I am worthy of every condemnation and torment, but, for the sake of God’s boundless desire for our salvation, for which His only Son was not spared, I do not despair of my salvation. I do not know when or how, but I believe that I will be saved. Only, O Lord, grant me to strive all the days of my life, seeking salvation from You—in the hope that You will not abandon me through Your mercy and the intercession of Your saints. By the judgments which You know, save me!”

Behold these feelings! All of them are rightly called spiritual liveliness. And indeed, when they exist, it means spiritual life is in action; and when one needs to kindle a weakened life, one must stand in one of these feelings. The holy fathers all speak of them, sometimes all together, sometimes in parts. And this is a common counsel and commandment—one must necessarily stand in some feeling. Whoever has left them, does not seek them, does not grieve their absence—that person is cold, and therefore is in danger of freezing and perhaps remaining so forever—in death.

Therefore, having entered inward, establish yourself in the vision of the spiritual world and begin to kindle the activity of your spiritual life, or transition first to pondering so as later to have these states in feeling as well—all this is the blessed arrangement of intellect and heart. The essential and unavoidable preparation for this is inner dwelling and vision of the spiritual world. The first introduces, the second establishes a person in a certain spiritual atmosphere, favorable to the burning of life. Therefore one can say that if you just practice these two preparatory works, the last will proceed of itself. People often complain: My heart has hardened… This is no wonder. It is not gathered inward, not accustomed to it, not established where it should be, does not know the place of the heart—how can it function properly? This is the same as displacing the heart and demanding life. Whoever awakens faith that sees the spiritual world and himself in it will not fail to come into an anxious state and to soften, and when that exists, afterward it is not so difficult to impress other feelings.

To aid in this, just as in the vision of the spiritual world, one takes passages of Scripture that briefly and powerfully express one or another state, for example: “Spare Your creation, Master; ‘my wounds grew foul and festered’” (Ps. 37:6); “if He did ‘not spare His own Son’” (Rom. 8:32); “By the judgments which You know, save me…” and so forth—and act with them, often repeating the same until the impression is made.

Not every feeling is always easy to access, but sometimes one, sometimes another; and one should make use of such predispositions for more swiftly acquiring these feelings. It is readily opened in the morning time, or one should so act that it opens at that time, so that afterward the whole day is spent in it. Lay bare your heart and accomplish prayer, and whatever stirs in the heart, remain with it with attention. Clothe this feeling with Scripture and repeat it. Acting thus, you will be always in feeling and will quickly accustom yourself to spiritual practice. Remember, however, that it is not always beneficial to await predisposition: sometimes one must act though nothing is in the soul, and sometimes when there is one feeling, one must displace it with others, for, judging by the state of spirit, sometimes one should lean toward one feeling, sometimes more toward another. Self-evidently, the happiest state of spirit would be if someone could go through all of them at once. This perfection of spiritual liveliness should be set as a goal and sought. To that end, each time one stands for prayer, after gathering inward and entering the spiritual world, begin to reproduce them in order, one after another, at first even in thoughts, until the Lord grants them in feelings. It is good for this to choose some prayer in which they all are present, memorize it, and read it often with attention. There are many prayers in the Psalter, and everyone can find one suited to them, for not one prayer fits all. They are briefly contained in the twelve daily and twelve nightly petitions of the holy Chrysostom. But it is indubitable that there is no more reliable means to impressing them than remaining in church at the divine service.

How these feelings promote the burning of zealous spirit is self-evident: let there be even one, and it already kindles, for each of them enters into its state and has its share in it. The spirit of zeal is simple and singular, but all-encompassing. The initial feeling should always be the fear of God, and the concluding one—self-humbled surrender of oneself to the Divine will, which is good and saves us. The first flows from the vision of the spiritual world, the latter is born from all the following ones through faith. However, which feelings proceed from which and how cannot be determined—for everyone it happens in their own way. That is why the holy fathers give different indications on this, or different explanations. For the most part they are set forth in fragmented instructions: have the fear of God, count all as nothing, do not love the world, hold yourself below all and condemn yourself in all, see your sins, turn to God alone. The sum of all is in a sorrowful, with fear of God, a falling down before God with the words: “Lord, by the judgments which You know, save me, for I will labor according to my strength.” Here is all of it. Whoever accustoms himself to placing himself in spirit in such a feeling has a ready and safe haven.

Being in some feeling is of great significance in spiritual life. In one who has it, that person is already inward in the heart, for our attention is always in the active part, and if this is the heart, then it is in the heart. Whoever is inward has the spiritual world opened to him. From this it is clear that just as inner dwelling, with the vision of another world, is the condition for kindling spiritual feelings, so conversely, the latter presuppose the former and by their arising call them forth. Through the reciprocal action of both, spiritual life is knit together. Whoever is in feeling has his spirit bound and attached, while one without it floats. Therefore, to abide inward more successfully, press toward feeling, though again through tensioned self-penetration. That is why whoever wishes to remain with only mental gathering labors in vain: in a moment, everything scatters. No wonder then that scholars, with all their learning, are always daydreaming: it is because they work only with the head.

There is no need to describe in particular the rules and properties of each feeling—this should be the object of particular teachings, contemplations, and readings. With the holy fathers they are for the most part set forth in fragments, in the form of sayings. What they sought above all and what they advised was to understand the spiritual structure and to know how to hold it. Whoever achieves this has one rule remaining: be inward, have secret instruction in the heart. By secret instruction they understood the vision of some subject from the spiritual world or the stirring of spiritual feeling by means of some word of Sacred Scripture, or a word of the fathers, or a prayer. So with them: dwell in the memory of God, in the memory of death, in the memory of sins, in self-accusation—that is, be aware of this subject and speak of it within unceasingly, for example: “Where can I go?” (Ps. 138:7) or: “I am a worm, not a man” (Ps. 21:7). This and the like, done in attention and feeling, is secret instruction.

From this it follows that briefly all the means or methods for kindling and sustaining the spirit of zeal can be summed up thus: following your awakening, enter into yourself, take your place in your heart, go through all spiritual liveliness, and, stopping at something, remain in it unmoving. Or even more briefly: gather yourself and practice secret instruction in your heart.

By this means, with the aid of the Lord’s grace, the spirit of zeal, in its true structure, will be sustained and will now kindle, now blaze. And this is the inner way. Know that this is the most direct path to blessed salvation. One can leave all else and occupy oneself only with this practice—and all will go successfully. On the other hand, even if we do all things, without attention to this we will see no fruit.

One who does not turn inward and to this spiritual practice merely drags things out. It is true, this practice is extraordinarily difficult, especially at the beginning, but it is direct and fruitful. Therefore, a priest guiding must introduce his spiritual children to this practice as soon as possible and establish them in it. One can even introduce them into it before all external things, but in all ways together with them—and not only can this be done but it must be. This is because the seed of this practice was planted in conversion, in which it all transpires. One need only explain it, clarify how important it is, and guide. Then all the external will proceed willingly, hastily, and maturely. On the other hand, without this one external thing, like rotted thread, will constantly break. Take note of this rule: it must not be all at once but gradually; it should have great limitations, for it can lead not to this inner practice, in which the essence of the matter lies, but to external rules. Therefore, despite the fact that there are people who ascend from without inward, the unchanging rule must remain—to enter inward more quickly and here kindle the spirit of zeal.

It seems like a simple thing; but without knowing about it, one can toil for a long time—and all bears little fruit. And this is due to the nature of bodily practice. It is easier, and so it attracts; inner practice is difficult, and so it repels. But whoever cleaves to the first, treating it as material, gradually becomes materialized in spirit as well, grows cold, becomes more rigid, and consequently moves further and further away from the inner. And it happens that at first someone sets inner practice aside as if until a time of ripening—“the time will come,” he thinks—but afterward, looking back, he finds that the time has passed and, instead of preparation, he has become entirely incapable of it. Again, the external should not be abandoned: it is the foundation of the inner, and both should proceed together. It is only clear that priority lies with the first, for one must serve God in spirit and bow to Him in spirit and in truth. Both should be in mutual subordination according to their respective dignity, without violence to each other and without forced separation.

Guidance for Practices That Strengthen the Soul’s and Body’s Powers in Goodness

In this way, the life of grace that dwells within, in the spirit, will burn and kindle more brightly. Because of the zeal and devotion of a person who gives himself to God, grace will overshadow him and penetrate with its sanctifying power, and increasingly, in a manner of speaking, make him its own. Yet we must not stop here. This is still seed, a point of support. What is needed is for this light of life to proceed further and, by penetrating the very nature of soul and body and in this way sanctifying them, making them its own, to tear away the unnatural passion that has taken hold and to restore them to their pure and natural condition—not to remain in itself, but to flow throughout all our being, through all our powers. But since these powers, as was said above, are saturated through and through with what is unnatural, the spirit of grace, the purest, that comes into the heart, cannot enter them directly and immediately, being blocked by their uncleanness. Therefore, there must be established certain means between the spirit of grace living within us and the powers, through which it might flow into them and heal them through them, as through poultices applied to diseased places. It is evident that all these means, on the one hand, must bear the character and properties of something of Divine or heavenly origin, and on the other hand must stand in perfect harmony with our powers in their natural structure and purpose; otherwise grace will not pass through them and the powers will not draw healing from them. Such means must be in their origin and inner nature. In themselves they can be nothing other than actions, exercises, labors, insofar as they are applied to powers, whose distinctive property is to act. Thus it is now necessary to seek out which actions and exercises God Himself, in His Scripture or through the teaching of the holy fathers after it, chose and indicated as means for healing our powers and restoring to them their lost purity and wholeness. It is not difficult to discover such exercises and practices; one need only look through the lives of several ascetical men, and they will reveal themselves naturally. Fasting, labor, vigil, solitude, withdrawal from the world, guarding the senses, reading of Scripture and the holy fathers, attending church, frequent confession and communion, vows and other works of piety and good deeds—all of this as a whole, and sometimes especially certain particular aspects, can be found in almost every life of the holy fathers. They all share a common name—ascetical struggle—which may seem frightening, but should attract us through its demonstrated significance, that is, its healing power. We will indicate for each of these struggles and exercises its proper place, in which power and toward what purpose each practice should be applied. In order to do this more successfully, we will show the course of every action of ours and consequently all our activity. Every free action, arising in consciousness and freedom, and consequently in the spirit, descends into the soul and by its powers—by reason, will, and feeling—is prepared for execution, and then is executed by the powers of the body in a definite time, place, and other external circumstances. External action most often passes away without trace when it is not repeated, noticed, and taken up by others. When this happens, it becomes a permanent rule, habit, custom, as it were a law. The sum total of these customs constitutes the spirit of that society or circle of people in which such customs are established. If their source is good, then the customs are good, and the society is good. If their source is bad, then the customs are bad, and the society is bad. But in the latter case, whoever has entered into this cycle of customs and habits is inevitably their slave and, despite the toil of slavery, serves it without objection. Whoever lives in a worldly way serves the customs and spirit of the world. But even he who enters this world fresh is inevitably permeated by its spirit and quickly becomes like others, because these customs are elements for the formation in us of a sinful, passionate, God-opposing spirit, since they themselves are nothing other than walking passions.

Having as its aim to purify and correct the human person, Divine grace first of all heals the source of all his activity, namely: it turns consciousness and freedom toward God, so that from there healing might proceed through all the powers by means of their proper activity, either designated for them or stirred up in them from the source already healed and sanctified. We saw earlier how this source is healed and how it is guarded. Now it is necessary to determine what actions should proceed from it with healing power, in the meaning that was indicated earlier. However, this does not permit arbitrary designation of these practices, but rather that they should be accepted by unpressured consciousness and freedom, for otherwise neither the expected fruit would come from them.

Thus, following upon the formation and guarding of zeal with all the inner ordering, one must determine the practices indicated in the word of God and in the writings of the holy fathers, first for the powers of the soul as the nearest receivers of all that is conceived in the sanctuary of the spirit, then for the powers and functions of the body as receivers of what matures in the soul; finally, for external conduct as the common outpouring of all internal activity or its field and also the formation of it. All these practices must be directed so that they do not quench but kindle more and more the spirit of zeal with all the inner ordering.

In the soul we find three powers: mind, will, and heart, or, as the holy fathers call them, the rational, appetitive, and spirited powers. To each of them the holy ascetics applied particular healing exercises, kindred to each, both receiving and conducting in relation to grace. They do not need to be constructed from theory, but only chosen from practices already tested—which practices go with which power. Thus:

For the mind:

Reading and hearing the word of God, the writings of the holy fathers and lives of the saints. Study and imprinting of all divinely-given truths in brief summaries (the catechism). Questioning those who are more experienced and elder. Mutual conversation and friendly counsel.

For the will:

Strict observance of all ascetical rules now to be set forth. Obedience to the entire church order. Obedience to civil or official and family order, for through it the will of God is mediated. Submission to the will of God in one’s fate and life. Attention to conscience in doing good deeds. Obedience to the spirit that is zealous for the fulfillment of vows.

For the heart:

Attendance at holy church services. Prayer ordered by the Church—the home rule. Use of the holy cross, icons, and other sacred substances and things. Observance of the sacred customs established by the Church and always offered by it.

The body, by nature, is pure. Therefore, it is necessary only to remove from its needs what is unnatural and to strengthen what is natural for it, or, what is the same, to return it to its nature. Moreover, it must be a helper to the soul, as its constant friend; therefore, besides restoration to the bounds of nature, the satisfaction of its needs must be applied also to the benefit of soul and spirit. In fulfilling these requirements, to each function of the body is assigned a kind of exercise—as a means both for the healing of our bodily nature and for spiritual benefit.

To this belong the rules that prescribe: in relation to the senses: guarding of the senses in general, and especially of hearing and eyes (nervous function); guarding of the mouth and tongue (muscular); bodily vigilance, with labor and work (muscular); abstinence and fasting (digestive); measure in sleep and vigil (digestive); bodily cleanliness (digestive).

In general with respect to the body: laboring (muscular), afflicting (nervous), and emaciation (digestive).

It is evident of itself how through such practices, little by little, the body will return to its natural condition, become lively and strong (muscular), radiant and pure (nervous), easy and free, and will show itself the most suitable instrument for our spirit and a worthy temple of the Holy Spirit.

Our external life—the outpouring of our deeds, their field, and also their cause and support—their beginning and end. One might leave it in peace if it did not react back on us. But in reality it powerfully governs and even rules us. Therefore, as an expression of the character of the activity of our powers or of our inner character, upon their change, it must necessarily be changed. Its field is family, occupation, relationships. Thus, to this must be applied all rules that require: abandoning all evil customs without exception; then—purifying relationships and associations, keeping what is saving and removing what is harmful, and determining conduct or dealings with people; redistributing or newly instituting occupations according to one’s position, if one has them; instituting the order of family affairs, or in general adapting the home to spiritual life.

It is necessary to arrange things so that everything external—with things, persons, and deeds—constitutes around us, as it were, a spiritual atmosphere that nourishes and builds up, not destroys.

Here are the exercises and practices! Their use must be continuous; they must be with us like a bandage with poultice on different parts of our being. But the most suitable place for them, where they should appear in their purest and most perfect form, most strictly, is fasting—the most saving institution of the Holy Church, appointed for our purification and sanctification through the Mysteries. This name means: the passing through all practices in perfect form as preparation for receiving the Mysteries; the very reception of the Mysteries of confession and communion of the Body and Blood of Christ.

These are exercises that embrace the whole human being, nourishing spirit and soul and body. Let us call them gracious means of education and strengthening of spiritual life.

Here are some general remarks on all these practices and exercises. All such practices and exercises must be gone through by each ascetic in a particular, adapted form, because in themselves they are as it were still materials and frames for rules. Rules are constructed from them through application to time, place, person, circumstances, and other factors. This must be done by each one practicing either by himself or with the guidance of his guide and spiritual father—done for each exercise, and then from the whole sum of them is constructed one all-embracing order of spiritual exercises, or practices, where everything has its place and time, both great and small. This order, as well as the rules, cannot be adequately set forth in a written guide, except only in outline. Here one can only describe each exercise and show its healing power and the general principles of its use.

It is easy to see how all such practices and exercises correspond to inner practice. Namely, rules of external conduct, with the ordering of the body, are essentially necessary for maintaining inward dwelling and spiritual consciousness, while the exercises of piety are for spiritual life-activity. Therefore, in the spiritual life, just as the inner is essential, so are they essential as well. In the teachings of the holy fathers they are called bodily, material practice, or the active life, while the inner practice is called the contemplative life, and also spiritual and mental practice. It is a delusion to think that the inner can stand, even without the external being adapted to it; just as it is wrong if someone stops at the external alone, forgetting the inner, as we have indicated it here, or not caring about it. Both must proceed together, so that the whole matter briefly can be expressed thus: having entered into yourself and taken your stand in spiritual consciousness, stir up life-activity, or establish a spiritual order, and then walk in the order of ascetical practice that you have established.

It is necessary to hold firmly in mind at the same time that the exercises, practices, and conduct, despite all their essential necessity and full fitness for guarding and forming spiritual life and restoring nature, have the power to do this not from themselves—they do not create the spirit and purify nature, but the grace of God, passing through them and gaining, as it were, access and flow to our powers. Therefore, go through them with all diligence, zeal, and constancy; but entrust your own progress to the Lord, so that under their protection He Himself might build us up as He wills and knows. In entering upon a practice, do not fix your attention and heart on it, but pass through it as something external—open yourself to grace as a ready vessel, with complete self-surrender to God. “He who finds grace finds it through faith and diligence,” says Saint Gregory of Sinai, “not through diligence alone.” No matter how correct our practice might be, but as soon as we do not surrender to God in it, do not draw grace, it builds in us not the true spirit but a deceptive spirit, produces a Pharisee. Grace is their soul. They are true only insofar as they nourish and guard self-abasement, contrition, fear of God, need for God’s help, and surrender to God. Satiety and self-satisfaction from them is a sign of their wrong use, or lack of understanding.

Here is the whole order of what we have called positive practice, or the beginning of self-coercion. There follows now an unfolding of each one individually, although in general outline.

Exercises That Contribute to the Formation of the Soul’s Powers According to the Spirit of the Christian Life

There are three powers: mind, will, and feeling. Corresponding to them, the exercises are also distributed. They are directly aimed at the formation of the powers, but in such a way that the spirit is not quenched thereby but, on the contrary, kindles more and more. The latter serves as the measure and temperance of the former, which is subject to it even to silent obedience or perfect cessation.

a) Exercises forming the mind, with kindling of spiritual life

Christian formation of the mind is the imprinting in it of all truths of faith so deeply that they constitute its essence, or so that it consists of them alone, so that when it comes to reason about something, it might reason or verify everything known by them and in general could not make even the slightest movement without them. In the Apostle this is called holding “the pattern of sound words” (2 Tim. 1:13).

The exercises or practices belonging to this are: reading and hearing of the word of God, the writings of the fathers, lives of the holy fathers, mutual conversation, and questioning of those more experienced.

Good—to read or listen; better—mutual conversation; still better—the word of the more experienced.

More fruitful—the word of God, and after it—the writings of the fathers and the lives of the saints. However, it must be known that the lives are better for beginners, the writings of the fathers for those in the middle, and the word of God for those who are perfect.

All of these—both sources of truths and ways to draw them—obviously contribute both to the imprinting of them in the mind and, at the same time, to the upholding of the spirit of zeal. Often a single passage kindles the spirit for more than one day; there are lives about which mere remembrance revives the heat of zeal; there are passages in the holy fathers that are all-stirring. Therefore there is a good practice: to copy out such passages and keep them for times of need to stir up the spirit.

Often neither inner nor outer practice helps—the spirit remains in slumber. Hurry to read something. This does not help—run to someone for conversation. The latter with faith rarely remains without fruit.

There are two kinds of reading: one—consecutive, almost mechanical, and another—selective, according to the demands of spiritual needs, by advice. But even the first is not useless. It is, however, more fitting for those already established, who as it were only repeat, not study.

It is absolutely necessary for everyone to have someone to talk with about spiritual matters who already knows everything about you and to whom you can boldly open everything that comes to heart. Better if there is one, at most—two. But idle conversations for simple passing of time must be completely avoided. Here are the rules of reading: before reading one must empty the soul of everything; stir up the need to know what is being read; turn prayerfully to God; follow the reading with attention and put everything in the opened heart; what has not reached the heart, stay with it until it does; it is evident that one must read very slowly; stop reading when the soul no longer wishes to be nourished by reading—it is full, that is. However, if some passage strikes the soul, stay with it and do not read further.

The best time for reading the word of God is morning, lives—after midday, the holy fathers—shortly before sleep. Thus one can touch on all somewhat each day.

In such occupations, one must constantly keep in mind the chief aim—the imprinting of truths and the stirring up of the spirit. If reading or conversation does not produce this, then they are idle scratching of taste and ear, empty curiosity-seeking. If this is accomplished with understanding, then truths are both imprinted and stirred up, and one helps the other; but if one deviates from the right manner, then neither happens: truths are packed into the head like sand, and the spirit becomes cold and hard, puffs up and becomes proud.

Imprinting of truths is not the same as investigating them. Here only this is required: clarify the truth and hold it in the mind until it blends with it, without arguments or restrictions, one face of the truth.

Therefore, the easiest way to this can rightly be considered the following: all truths are in the catechism. Each morning take a truth from it and clarify it, carry it in your mind and be nourished by it, as much as the soul wishes to be nourished, for a day, two, or more; do the same with another and thus to the end. An easy method and universally practiced. If unable to read, ask about one truth and go with it.

It is clear that the law for all is: imprint truths so that they stir up. But the ways of fulfilling it are various, and one for all cannot be indicated.

Consequently, reading, listening, and conversation that do not imprint truths and do not stir up the spirit should be considered wrong, having deviated from the truth. This is the disease of much reading out of mere curiosity, when the mind alone follows what is being read, not bringing it to the heart, not delighting its taste.

This is the science of fantasizing, which does not build up, does not teach, but destroys, always leading to pride. The whole matter, as was said, must be confined to the following: clarify the truth and hold it in the mind until the heart tastes it. In the holy fathers it is said simply: remember, hold in the mind, keep before your eyes.

b) Exercises for forming the will and turning to stirring up the spirit

To form the will means to imprint in it good dispositions, or virtues: humility, meekness, patience, abstinence, yieldingness, helpfulness, and others—so that, having grown together with it or merged with it, they constitute its nature as it were, and so that when the will undertakes something, it undertakes it by the impulse of these and in their spirit, so that they become rulers and reign over our deeds.

Such a disposition of the will is secure and lasting; but since it is opposed to sinful disposition, its acquisition constitutes toil and sweat. Therefore, the practices belonging here are especially directed against the chief weakness of the will, that is, self-will, disobedience, impatience under the yoke.

This ailment is cured by submission to the will of God, with rejection of one’s own and all others. The will of God is revealed in various forms of obedience that lie upon each person. The first and chief requirement of it is observance of the laws or commandments in one’s own, individual, position or calling; then observance of the church order, the requirements of civil and family order, the requirements of circumstances, which come from the will of providence, the requirements of the spirit that is zealous for this, all with discernment and counsel.

All this—the fields for righteous deeds that are open to everyone, and moreover all of them. Therefore, know only how to manage them, and you will not feel a scarcity of means for forming the will.

For this, clarify for yourself the whole sum of righteous deeds possible for you, in your place, calling, circumstances, together with consideration also of when, how, in what measure, and what can and must be fulfilled.

Having clarified all, determine a general outline of deeds and their order, so that everything done is not random, while remembering at the same time that this order is appropriate only in general; in particular it can be changed by the demands of the course of affairs. Do everything with discernment.

Therefore it is better to reckon each day the possible cases and possible deeds.

Those accustomed to righteous practice never determine anything ahead of time, but always do what God sends, because all comes from God; by circumstances He reveals to us His decrees.

All this, however, is only deeds. Walking in them makes one upright only. To ascend through them to virtues, one must maintain steadfastly the spirit of true good work—namely, doing everything with humility and fear of God according to God’s will and to God’s glory. Whoever acts out of self-confidence, with boldness bordering on audacity, in self-pleasing or man-pleasing, forms within themselves an evil spirit of self-righteousness, arrogance, and Pharisaism, even if their deeds are right.

Maintaining the right spirit, one must also remember the laws, especially the law of gradualism and continuity—that is, always begin with the lesser and ascend to the greater, and having begun to act, do not stop. By this one can avoid:

confusion that you are imperfect, for it does not come at once; time will come yet; thoughts that you have already accomplished everything, for the degrees have no end; arrogant ambition for deeds beyond your strength.

The final goal is naturalness of good works, when the law no longer lies as a burden.

More successful than all in achieving this is one who has the grace to live together with a virtuous and active person, and even more successful if under their instruction. There will be no need to do again or redo what is left undone through inexperience and lack of practice. Do not read, do not reflect, as they say, but find a devout one, and at once you will learn the fear of God. The same can be applied to every other virtue. Yet it is good, judging by yourself, your character and situation, to choose especially one good work and hold to it firmly—it will be foundational, like canvas—and by it transition to others. This is salutary when strength fails—it powerfully reminds and quickly awakens. Most reliable of all is the giving of alms, which leads to the King.

However, this concerns only deeds, not dispositions, which must have their own internal order, rooted in the spirit, in some way independent of consciousness and freedom, as the Lord grants. The beginning recognized by all saints is the fear of God, and the end is love; in between all virtues are built one from another, though not the same in all, but necessarily on humble and contrite repentance and sorrow for sins. This is the vital essence of virtues. The portrayal of each virtue, its properties, practice, degrees of perfection, deviations—this is the subject of special books and patristic teachings. Learn all this through reading.

Such good works directly form the will and imprint virtues in it, but at the same time they keep the spirit in constant tension. As warmth is aroused by friction, so by good deeds fervor is kindled. Without them even a good spirit grows cold and dissipates. This ordinarily happens to those who do not act, or people who limit themselves to avoiding evil and wrongdoing. No, one must assign and choose good deeds. Yet there are also overly busy doers who quickly exhaust themselves and scatter their spirit. Everything needs measure.

c) Formation of the Heart

To form the heart means to cultivate in it a taste for holy things, divine things, spiritual things, so that, occupying itself with them, it feels itself as though in its own element, finds in that sweetness and blessedness, and remains indifferent to everything else, having no taste for it and even more—having an aversion to it. All spiritual activity of the human person converges toward the heart: truths are imprinted in it, good dispositions are implanted in it, but its own proper work is chiefly this taste we have shown. When the mind perceives all the structure of the spiritual world and its various objects, or in the will different good initiatives ripen, the heart must feel sweetness in all this and emit warmth. This spiritual sweetness is the first sign of revival of the soul dead from sin. Therefore its formation is a very important moment even in the beginnings.

Activity directed toward it is all our sacred service in all its forms—both general and particular, both domestic and ecclesiastical, and chiefly the spirit of prayer moving within it.

Divine service, that is all the daily offices with all the adornment of the temple—icons, candles, incense, singing, reading, action, as well as services for various needs, then domestic service, also with things sanctified by the Church—icons, oil, candles, holy water, the cross, incense—all this assemblage of sacred things, acting on all the senses—sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste—are wakeners of the senses in a dead soul, powerful and the only true ones. The soul has died from the spirit of the world, which surrounds it through the sin dwelling in it. All the structure of our church service, both in its structure and significance, and in the power of faith, and especially the hidden grace within it—has an irresistible power to blow away the spirit of the world and, freeing the soul from its oppressive influence, gives the possibility to breathe as though freely and taste the sweetness of this spiritual freedom. One who enters the temple enters a completely different world, is permeated by it, and changes accordingly. The same happens to those who surround themselves with sacred things. The frequency of spiritual impression penetrates more quickly within and sooner completes the transformation of the heart. Therefore:

1) One should establish the most frequent possible presence in temples at church services, ordinarily at matins, liturgy, and vespers. Strive for this and at the first possibility be there every day, or at least once, and if possible, even without ceasing. Our temple is paradise on earth or heaven. Hasten to the temple in faith that it is the place of God’s dwelling, where He Himself promised to hear more readily; while staying in the temple, be as before God in fear and reverence, which express through patient standing, bows, attention to the service generally, without scattering of thoughts, weakness, or carelessness.

2) One should not forget other sacred services, private ones, whether celebrated in the temple or at home, as well as one’s own domestic prayer with all the church adornment. One must remember that this is only a kind of supplement to church service, not a replacement for it. The Apostle, commanding not to deprive oneself of gatherings, made known that all the power of service belongs to common service (Heb. 10:25).

3) One should observe all church celebrations, rites, and customs—in general all the established order—and surround oneself with it in all your departures, so that you remain constantly as though in a certain special atmosphere. This is easy to do. Such is the arrangement of our Church. Accept it only with faith.

But chiefly what gives power to church service is the spirit of prayer. Prayer is both an all-encompassing obligation and an all-powerful means. By it truths of faith are imprinted in the mind, and good morals in the will, but especially the heart is enlivened in its feelings. Only then do the first two proceed swiftly when this one is present. Therefore the formation of prayer must be begun before all else and continued constantly, tirelessly, until the Lord grants prayer to the one who prays.

The beginnings of prayer are laid in the very turning itself, for prayer is the aspiration of mind and heart to God, which is what happens in turning. But by heedlessness or inexperience one can extinguish this spark within oneself. Then at once one must begin a certain kind of practice, with the goal of kindling the spirit of prayer. Apart from performing the services and participating in them, which we have mentioned, more directly related to this is one’s personal praying, however and wherever it is accomplished. Here the rule is one: grow accustomed to prayer. For this:

Choose a rule of prayer—evening, morning, and daytime.

The rule should be small at first, so as not to turn away the spirit unaccustomed to this practice and effort.

But it must always be performed with fear, diligence, and full attention.

This requires: standing, bows, kneeling, making the sign of the cross, reading, sometimes singing.

The more frequently you rise to such prayer, the better. Some do this at every hour—little, but more often.

Which prayers to read is set out in prayer books. But it is good to grow accustomed to one particular one, so that when you begin it, your spirit immediately catches fire.

The rule of prayer is simple: standing to pray, speak it with fear and trembling as into God’s ear, accompanying it with the cross, bows, and prostrations, according to the movement of your spirit.

The rule accepted must always be fulfilled without fail; but this does not prevent adding more as your heart’s need requires.

Reading and singing aloud, or in a whisper, or silently—all are the same, for the Lord is near. But sometimes it is better to accomplish the whole prayer in one way, sometimes in another.

One must firmly hold in mind the goal of prayer. That prayer is good which ends with a falling before God with the feeling: “By the judgments You know, save me.”

There are degrees of prayer. The first degree is bodily prayer, more in reading, standing, bows. Attention wanders, the heart does not feel, there is no desire: here there is patience, labor, sweat. Nevertheless, set boundaries and perform the prayer. This is active prayer. The second degree is attentive prayer: the mind grows accustomed to gathering in the hour of prayer and to speak all of it consciously, without scattering. Attention is woven together with the written word and speaks it as one’s own. The third degree is prayer of feeling: from attentiveness the heart is warmed, and what was there in thought becomes feeling here. There the word is crushing, and here is compunction; there is petition, and here is the feeling of need and necessity. Whoever has passed into feeling prays without words, for God is God of the heart. This, then, is the goal of prayer’s education—standing to pray, to pass from feeling to feeling. In this reading may cease, as may thinking, and let there be only remaining in feeling with certain signs of prayer. Such prayer at first comes gradually. In church or at home prayer’s feeling comes upon one… And behold the common counsel of the saints—do not pass by this without attention: that is, when feeling is present, cease every other activity and stand in it. The holy Ladder-maker says: “An angel prays with you.” By attention to these manifestations of prayer is the education of prayer ripened, and by heedlessness it is destroyed: in education indeed lies the work.

No matter how much someone considers themselves perfected in prayer, the rules of prayer should never be abandoned, but should be practiced as indicated, and always begin with active prayer. With it should be attentive prayer, and then heartfelt prayer will come. Without this these latter are scattered, and a person will think they are praying when in fact they are not.

When prayer’s feeling ascends to continuity, then spiritual prayer begins, which is the gift of God’s Spirit praying for us—the last degree of prayer that can be grasped. But they say there is also a prayer beyond understanding, or transcending the limits of consciousness (so in holy Isaac the Syrian).

The easiest means of ascending to continuity in prayer is growing accustomed to the Jesus Prayer and rooting it in yourself. The most experienced men in spiritual life, enlightened by God, found this one simple and at the same time all-powerful means for establishing the spirit in all spiritual practices, as well as in the whole life of spiritual asceticism, and in their teachings left detailed rules about it.

Laboring and striving ascetically, we seek the purification of the heart and the restoration of the spirit. There are two paths to this: the active, that is, walking in those ascetic labors indicated before, and the contemplative—turning the mind to God. There the soul is purified and receives God; here God, beheld, burns up all impurity and comes to dwell in the purified soul. Concluding the latter in a single Jesus Prayer, Gregory of Sinai says: “We acquire God either through deeds and labor, or through the skillful invocation of the name of Jesus,” and then adds that the first path is longer than the latter—the latter is swifter and more effective. Consequent to this, some placed the Jesus Prayer first among labors. It enlightens, strengthens, enlivens, overcomes all enemies, visible and invisible, and leads to God. Such a mighty and all-powerful prayer! The name of the Lord Jesus is a treasure of goods, powers, and life in the spirit.

It follows from this of itself that everyone who has repented, or begun to seek the Lord, can and should be given complete instruction in the practice of the Jesus Prayer from the very first, and with it already be introduced to all the others, for by this path one can more quickly be strengthened, more quickly see spiritually, and enter into internal peace. Not knowing this, some, or most, stop at bodily and mental practices and almost wastefully spend their efforts and time.

This practice is called the “art.” And it is very simple. Standing in consciousness and attention in the heart, pronounce unceasingly: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me,” without any image or form, in faith that the Lord sees you and gives you attention.

To become established in this, one should set aside a definite time in the morning or evening, a quarter hour, half an hour or more, according to what one is able, for doing nothing but this prayer. This is after morning and evening prayer, standing or sitting. By this the beginnings of becoming accustomed will be laid.

Then during the day, moment by moment, strive to practice it, whatever you are doing.

More and more the habit will be acquired, and it will be performed as though of itself, in every deed and occupation of the person. The more decisively one takes hold, the more quickly one succeeds.

One must absolutely keep consciousness at the heart and during the practice narrow the small breath, as a sign of the intensity with which it is performed.

But the highest condition is faith that God is near and hears us. Speak the prayer into the ear of God’s hearing.

This becoming accustomed brings warmth into the spirit, then enlightenment, and then rapture. But all this is achieved sometimes over years.

At first this prayer is for a long time only active, like any practice, then it passes into attentiveness, and finally becomes rooted in the heart.

There are deviations from the right path of this prayer. Therefore one must learn it from one who knows it. The errors mostly come from where the attention is—in the head or in the chest.

Who is in the heart is safe. Even safer is who sorrowfully falls before God at every moment with prayer for deliverance from spiritual delusions.

The holy fathers have set out this teaching in detail. Therefore whoever takes up this work must read them, setting aside all else. The best teachings: in Hesychius, in the introductions of elder Basil, in the life of Paisius; in Gregory of Sinai, Philotheos of Sinai, Theoliptos, Simeon the New Theologian, in Nilus of Sorsk, in the hieromonk Dorotheus (Russian).

Whoever becomes accustomed to this, practicing all that was shown before, is a man—a doer of the Christian life. Swiftly he will see himself in purification and Christian perfection and will attain the longed-for peace in communion with God.

Behold these practices for the powers of the soul, with their adaptation also to the movements of the spirit. Here we see how each of them is adapted to the life of the spirit, or spiritual feelings. But they also lead to the strengthening of the initial conditions of inner dwelling, namely: practices of the mind lead to the gathering of attention, practices of the will to vigilance, and practices of the heart to sobriety. Prayer or praying covers all of them and unites all; even in its exercise it is nothing other than the internal activity explained before.

All these practices are appointed for the formation of the powers of the soul, according to the spirit of the new life. This is the same as spiritualizing the soul, or raising it into the spirit and blending it with it. In the fall they were joined to the opposite. In turning, the spirit was restored, but the soul remained with a stubborn neck of disobedience and unwillingness toward the spirit and things spiritual. These practices, permeated with spiritual elements, make the soul akin to the spirit and blend it with it. From this it is evident how essentially necessary they are and how badly those do who exempt themselves from them. They themselves are the cause that their labor goes without fruit—they toil but see no fruit, then soon grow cold, and all is ended.

But here one must remember that all their fruit comes from the spirit of zeal and seeking. It carries the restorative power of grace through those practices and brings enlivening into the soul. Without it all these practices are empty, cold, lifeless, dry. Reading, bows, services are fruitless and all the rest when there is no inner spirit. This practice can teach pride and Pharisaism and be sustained by them alone. Therefore all falls away when difficulties meet those who have no spirit. And by themselves they are wearisome. But the spirit gives the soul the power by which it finds no satiety in these practices and would wish to occupy itself in them alone and always.

Thus it is extremely necessary, in these practices, always to keep in mind that the spirit of life should burn, with humble and sorrowful falling before God, our Savior; this is nurtured and preserved best of all by prayer and prayerful practices. One must watch and be careful not to stop at these alone, for they are also nourishing to the soul. It is possible to remain thus only of the soul with detriment to the spirit. This can happen most of all with reading and, in general, with the knowledge and assimilation of truth.

Mortifying the Body in the Spirit of the New Life

The distinctive mark here is the mortification of the flesh. To mortify the flesh means not to gratify it in any desire, or not to do anything with self-indulgence. Neither food, nor drink, nor sleep, nor movement, nor sight, nor hearing, nor other senses or impressions should be received as if they were good, but received as if in passing, as something foreign, without attention to them before or after, and indeed even more – with some deprivation, not according to the measure of the flesh’s desire, but according to reason and proper intention. Give your body what is needful with slight deprivation and, leaving it, turn yourself wholly to the soul. The holy fathers call this fleeing from the flesh’s comfort – an illness most dangerous and opposed to God. Who spares the flesh cannot have the Spirit of God dwelling in him. And even small, fragmentary gratifications of the flesh arising from inattention and negligence cool the spirit. What then shall we say of those for whom fleshly pleasure has become a law? Comfort of the flesh for the spirit is like water for fire. The flesh is the seat of all passions, as Cassian teaches and as anyone can verify by experience, and therefore mortifying it is the drying up of passions. Whoever gratifies the flesh even in small things cannot be inwardly gathered; he is dispersed in that which gratifies the flesh, and therefore is cold. The soul cleaving to the flesh becomes fused with it; for this reason it grows heavy, weighs toward the earth, is unable to freely perceive spiritual things with the mind. On the contrary, how clear is the sight of one who mortifies the flesh, how easily he gravitates inward, how harmless passions are to him, and altogether how visibly the spiritual life in him is quickened! “The outer self wastes away, so the inner self is renewed day by day” (see: 2 Cor. 4:16). The flesh, if it grows strong, grows strong at the expense of the spirit; and the spirit, if it matures, does so only at the expense of the flesh’s mortification. In no saint do we find an easy life: all lived harshly, in mortification, weakening, drying up, and affliction of the flesh. Therefore, in the writings of Saint Isaac the Syrian, mortifying the flesh is considered a condition of salvation. One who spares the flesh stands on a delusional, slippery, deceitful, uncertain path.

One must mortify the flesh in all its parts, members, and functions, so as to present all its members as instruments of righteousness.

Of the members of our bodily life, some are animated and sensate – the immediate instruments of the soul’s activity – while others are purely animal, instruments of animal economy, nutrition, and growth. The first have more freedom, are less bound; the latter are more bound, more physical, coarser.

To the first belong: the senses, the tongue, movement; to the latter: nutrition, sleep, sexual function, and various bodily sensations – heat, cold, softness, and so forth.

From this follow the following rules for mortifying the flesh:

Master your senses, especially sight and hearing; restrain your movements, control your tongue. Whoever does not bridle these three has his interior life in plunder, in debility and captivity; he is not even inwardly present, for these are the passages through which the soul goes out from within, or windows that let the inner warmth escape.

Express your authority over them by forcefully drawing them toward objects that are beneficial now. Before, they rushed irresistibly to where self-regard and the chief passion could be fed. Now you must turn them toward what builds up the spirit.

Measure the food necessary for your body – simple, healthful – weigh it by measure and weight, determine it by type and time, and be at peace in that. Do the same with sleep. Mortify the sexual function by drying up the flesh. Externally, keep your body in some affliction, in coldness, harshness, and so forth, so there is no softness.

Having ordered all things, struggle with the flesh until it quiets and, becoming accustomed to this modest and afflicting state, becomes a silent servant. The mortification of the flesh comes at last. One must keep this in view and strive for it as a reward for labors. Through bodily ascetic practices are developed bodily virtues: solitude, silence, fasting, vigil, labor, patience in deprivations, purity, virginity.

One must, however, remember that this companion sits with us until the grave. They say: do not trust the flesh – it is deceitful. And as soon as, in hope of its mortification, you relax, it will seize you and overcome you. The struggle with it continues beyond the grave, but it is hardest at first, and then easier and easier, until finally only watchfulness over order remains, with light sensations of the flesh’s stirrings.

For more lasting success – and this is necessary above all in bodily ascetic practices – one must observe the law of gradual progression. Here is general counsel: first keep your body under the law of abstinence in all respects, directing all your attention to inner work. When the passions begin to be calmed, warmth will arise in the heart; then, as this inner heat increases, the body’s needs will themselves naturally diminish, and great bodily ascetic practices will begin, as if naturally.

The principal bodily ascetic practices that mortify the flesh are: fasting, vigil, labor, and purity. The last is more effective than all others, more necessary and needful. Therefore, virginity is the quickest path to Christian perfection. Without it, a person cannot acquire such strength or such gifts. One must only remember that there is also soul-purity besides bodily purity, which may not exist even in one who has preserved bodily purity to the grave. It is far more significant than bodily purity. Therefore, even married people can to a certain extent draw near to virgins through soul-purity. God helps the laborer devoted to Him with His grace. This is why we see married people possessed of spiritual perfections.

The Ordering of External Life in the Spirit of the New Life

All that pertains to ordering external life according to the spirit of the new life can be called withdrawal from the world, or the expulsion of the worldly spirit from the entire course of our external life. “I chose you out of the world” – that is, I removed you – this the Lord said to the Apostles (Jn. 15:19). The same He does to every believer with His Divine grace: He removes his spirit from the world. Conversion itself consists of turning one’s mind away from the vain world and opening before it another world – a spiritual one. But what is accomplished invisibly in the spirit at first must then be carried out in deeds in life, must become a constant rule. One who seeks the Lord must withdraw from the world.

By “the world” is understood all that is passionate, vain, sinful, that has entered private, family, and social life and has become custom and rule there. Therefore, withdrawing from the world does not mean fleeing from family or society, but rather abandoning morals, customs, rules, habits, and demands that are completely contrary to the spirit of Christ accepted and growing in us. Civil society and family are blessed by God; therefore, one should not withdraw from them or despise them, nor anything that belongs to their essential good order. But everything additional to them – all the passionate and lustful – like a growth that harms and distorts them, must be despised and rejected. To flee from the world means to establish oneself in true family life and citizenship; all else we must so treat as if it were not ours, did not touch us. “Let those who use the world do so as though they were not using it” (1 Cor. 7:31).

Why this must be done is evident of itself. All that is vain and saturated with passions inevitably transmits the same to our soul, stirs up or implants passion. As one walking around soot becomes blackened or one touching fire gets scorched, so one participating in worldly things becomes saturated with the passionate and opposed-to-God. Therefore, when caught in the world, the repentant falls again, while the innocent becomes corrupted. This is almost inevitable. At once the mind is darkened, forgetfulness is born, weakness, captivity, and plunder follow, and then the heart is wounded, after which comes passion and deed – and the person has fallen. Witnesses to this are all the histories of corruption; and equally, witnesses to how inevitable and necessary it is to abandon all these customs are all the converted, who flee these habits as if from fire.

But what precisely to abandon and how is taught more by experience than by our writings.

The law is this: abandon all that is dangerous to the new life, that kindles passion, brings vanity, and extinguishes the spirit – and in all this what variety there is!.. Let each person’s own heart be the measure – the heart of one genuinely seeking salvation without deception, not just for show. In the present time, theaters, balls, dances, music, singing, drives, walks, acquaintances, jests, witticisms, laughter, idle time-wasting, and even the time of waking, sleeping, eating food, and so forth – all of this must be renounced and changed. In other times and in other places, there might be other things. But the measure is always the same: abandon what is harmful and dangerous to life, what extinguishes the spirit. But what precisely? For one person it might be something very trivial, perhaps even a walk in a certain place with a certain person… “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are beneficial” (1 Cor. 6:12).

From this it follows that abandoning the world is nothing other than thoroughly cleansing your entire external life, removing from it everything passionate, replacing it with what is pure and does not hinder spiritual life, but helps it – in family life, private life, social life; establishing generally the manner of your external conduct at home and outside, with others and in your duties; determining everything by rules according to the demands of the new life’s spirit, establishing order in the home in all respects, order in your duties, order in your acquaintances and relations with whom, when, and how.

How to do this? As each person is able – only do it with counsel and discernment, under the guidance of a spiritual father or one whom you trust. Some do this suddenly, which seems better, and others gradually. One must only from the very first moment hate everything worldly and sinful in one’s heart and be estranged from it, not want it and not delight in it. “Do not love the world or anything in the world” (1 Jn. 2:15). Following this inner abandonment of the world, the outward abandonment can follow either suddenly or gradually. A person weak in spirit cannot endure a prolonged change, will not hold firm, will weaken and fall. These are especially those possessed by fleshly passions, which acquire the force of a second nature. Therefore, such people must inevitably break away from everything at once, withdraw from the place where they wallowed in sin. A person with strong spiritual zeal can endure even a gradual change; but for both the one and the other, from the very first moment of conversion, complete severance from all contact with the sinful world and with all things worldly is absolutely necessary until the forms of the new life are established. This is like protecting a newly transplanted tree from wind, which, though not strong, can blow it over because its roots are still weak.

The thought that one can live as a Christian and yet hold to the world and worldliness is an empty, delusional thought. Whoever lives by it will learn nothing but Phariseeism and a life of opinion – that is, he will be a Christian only in his own estimation, but not in fact. At first he will destroy with one hand what he builds with the other – that is, what is gathered in withdrawal from the world will again be scattered at the first entry into it, and from this comes a direct transition to mere opinion. What is lost from the heart may still remain in memory and imagination. Now, remembering and imagining how it was before, the person may think that it still truly is, whereas it has vanished, and only its trace remains in memory. And he will imagine he has what he does not actually have. Here is his judgment: “Even what he thinks he has will be taken from him” (Mt. 25:29). From mere opinion it is but a step to Phariseeism. Hardened Phariseeism is a terrible state. One may fear, however – how is it to abandon the world? This is fearful only outwardly; inwardly, abandoning the world is entering paradise. Outwardly – at once afflictions, sorrows, losses: what then? – strengthen yourself with patience. What is more precious: the world or the soul, time or eternity? Give up the small – and take what is immeasurable in all dimensions. It does happen, moreover, that the world’s strong pressure exists only at first, then diminishes, diminishes, and one who has abandoned the world is left in peace, for in the world people rarely value or remember long – they speak, speak, and then forget. It is with those who abandon the world as with the dead. Therefore, one need not fear the world’s enmity so much, because of its frivolousness and pride – because it loves what is present and forgets everything else. It is a spectacle: it is concerned only with or holds those who are in it; it cares little about others.

Thus, by these means – occupations directed toward building the soul’s powers, mortification of the flesh in all its parts, especially those that are the soul’s immediate organs, and the cleansing of the external order – a person who seeks well and solidly fortifies his interior. Strengthened within by the first spiritual and soul-building occupations in solitude, with the flesh mortified, he goes forth to family matters or civic matters, or to communal life, to pure and saving deeds according to God’s will, and is built up in spirit by all of these, or at least is not destroyed.

One more thing can distract him – the constant sight and hearing of things – sometimes worldly, sometimes ordinary – which, simply by acting on the soul, draw it out through attention to them and disperse it. If these openings could be closed, inner peace would be unbroken. Clearly, the most reliable and decisive means to this would be the closing of the senses, but this is not possible or necessary for everyone. Therefore, the holy fathers devised a saving means: to undergo the impression of external things and yet not be distracted, but to build up the spirit. It consists in giving every thing, everything seen and heard, a spiritual meaning, and in so establishing oneself in contemplation of this spiritual meaning that, in looking at something, it is not the thing itself that touches your consciousness, but its spiritual meaning. Whoever does this for everything encountered will constantly walk as if in a school… And light and darkness, and people and beasts, and stone and plant, and house and field – absolutely everything down to the least thing will be a lesson for him; one need only interpret it to oneself and become established in that. And how saving this is!.. “Why are you weeping?” the disciples asked an elder who saw a beautiful, gaudily dressed woman. “I weep,” he answered, “for the perishing of God’s rational creation and because I have not such concern for the soul’s salvation as she has for the body’s ruin…” Another, hearing a woman’s weeping at a grave, said, “Thus a Christian should weep over his own sins.”

The Gracious Means of Cultivating and Strengthening Spiritual Life

These are the ascetic practices by which the soul, body, and our external conduct are formed according to the spirit of the new life, after the spirit is quickened by God’s grace in conversion, rising to the point of resolution and vow and sealed by the Holy Mysteries. But just as in the beginning conversion to God is unreliable if not sealed by grace through the Mysteries, so throughout all the time that follows, our zeal is unstable, our efforts are weak, our will is feeble, and our life is thin, if we do not renew ourselves through the Divine Mysteries of confession and holy communion. The Christian life, testified to by zeal, is a gracious life; consequently, to preserve, nourish, and kindle it, the most powerful means must be to draw upon and receive Divine grace. There are particular elements that nourish our animal life; there are also elements that nourish spiritual life. These are the Mysteries.

Specifically for nourishing and elevating our spiritual life, the Lord has given the Mystery of Body and Blood. “I am the living bread”, the Lord said, “My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink”, therefore, “whoever eats this bread will live forever” (Jn. 6:51, 55, 58). Spiritual life is the consequence of communion with the Lord; apart from Him and without Him we have no true life. But He says: “Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him… I live because of the Father, and he who eats Me, he also will live because of Me” (Jn. 6:56–57): that is, communion with the Lord is effected through the partaking of Body and Blood. True spiritual life is strong, full of works, and abundantly fruitful. But “without Me”, the Lord says, “you can do nothing”. Whoever “is in Me will bear much fruit” (see: Jn. 15:5). “In Me” does “he who eats Me abide”. From all this it follows that “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you do not have life in you… Whoever eats this bread will live forever” (Jn. 6:53, 51).

Here is the gracious source of preserving and strengthening our spiritual life! Therefore, from the very beginning of Christianity, those truly zealous for piety held frequent communion to be the first good. Among the Apostles it was everywhere: Christians remained constantly in prayer and the breaking of bread, that is, they communed. Basil the Great in his letter to Caesar says that it is saving to commune in the Body and Blood every day, and in his life he writes: “We commune four times a week.” And this is the common opinion of all the saints, that there is no salvation without communion and no progress in life without frequent communion.

But the Lord – the source of life who quickens those who commune with Him – is also a consuming fire. One who communes worthily tastes life, while one who communes unworthily tastes death. Although this death does not follow visibly, it is always accomplished invisibly in the spirit and heart of the person. One who communes unworthily departs – like a burning coal snatched from fire, or like iron slag. Either the seed of death is planted in the body itself, or it happens at once, as was the case in the Corinthian Church, as the Apostle notes (see: 1 Cor. 11:29–30). Therefore, when communing, one must approach with fear and trembling and with sufficient preparation.

This preparation consists in cleansing one’s conscience from dead works. “Let each examine himself”, teaches the Apostle, “and then let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup” (1 Cor. 11:28). Confession, with hatred of sin and a vow to avoid it in every way, makes the human spirit a vessel capable of containing the incomprehensible God according to His grace. Resolution and vow are the place in which the Lord communes with us in communion, for only this alone is pure in us; all else in us is impure. Therefore, no one comes worthily of his own, but only the Lord, through His grace, counts worthy on account of confession with contrition and a vow.

All of this could be summarized as: confess worthily – and you will be a worthy communicant. But confession itself is a Mystery, requiring worthy preparation, and besides, in order to reach its perfection it requires particular actions, feelings, and dispositions that cannot be performed and shown all at once, but require time and, in a certain way, exclusive focus on them. Therefore, it has always been performed according to a known order, with preliminary deeds and exercises that prepare for it, which help either toward better recognition of sins, or toward arousing and showing contrition for them, or toward strengthening the firmness of the vow. All of them together constitute fasting preparation.

From this it follows that for strengthening and elevating the gracious life through the Mysteries one must establish periods of fasting preparation with all its accompaniments – confess and, having prepared in this way, commune worthily in the Holy Mysteries. That is, one must establish periods of fasting preparation, or rather, take on fasting preparation, for it has already been established for us by the Holy Church. The four great fasts were instituted for the purpose that those zealous for piety should fast, confess, and commune during them. Therefore, it should be laid down as a rule – for one seeking perfection to fast four times a year, during all the great fasts. So it is written in the “Confession of Faith.” However, this does not constrain the zeal of those who wish to fast more frequently and even continuously; nor is it imposed, like a yoke, on those unable to fulfill it due to their circumstances. Only this: make every effort that is within your power to fast four times a year. For laypeople, four times is a modest, middle measure and, as proven by experience, very saving. One who does this does not stand out from others, so will not become proud as if exceeding them. One can, moreover, fast during the Great Fast and the Christmas Fast both at the beginning and end. That makes six periods of fasting preparation in all.

One must distinguish fasting preparation from fasting, or proper observance of the fasts according to the Church’s regulations. It is a part of fasting, but differs from it in greater strictness regarding food and sleep, and in that it is always joined with other pious occupations, such as: ceasing from worldly cares and deeds as much as possible, reading, for those who can, of holy books, unfailing attendance at church for the appointed services, and so forth. Altogether, this time is devoted exclusively to pious occupations, which are all directed toward making fitting repentance and confession and then communing.

Thus, it is evident that in the entire structure of fasting preparation, there is a cleansing of the whole life, a restoration of its entire order, a clarifying of its aims, a reuniting with the Lord, a renewal of the spirit and our entire being. It is like washing soiled clothes or bathing after a journey. The Christian is on a journey and, for all his care, does not escape dust – thoughts full of passion and stains of falls. However small the uncleanness, it is like a speck in the eye or sand in a watch – the eye does not see, the watch does not run. Therefore, it is necessary to cleanse oneself from time to time. How wisely it is therefore arranged in our Church, and how saving to obey this institution with humility!

This is the meaning of fasting preparation! It is a means of nourishing, kindling, and preserving life in us, but chiefly it is a careful review of life, of falls, of their causes, and a setting up of means to avoid them. When sins are recognized, cast out from the heart with hatred and enmity, washed away by confession with a vow, then the vessel is ready. In communion, the Lord comes and unites Himself with the spirit of the worthy one, who must feel: “Surely I am not alone, but with You.”

Approaching Continuous Fasting Preparation

Fasting preparation is practiced periodically, but the spirit of fasting preparation must be raised to one that acts continuously, and for this, certain exercises are needed that contribute to its becoming rooted.

Since fasting preparation contains three sanctifying deeds: fasting, confession, and communion, these three must be elevated to continuous practice or possible frequency. To do this, one must:

a) Regarding fasting

Observe all the great fasts or spend the time of fasts in fasting – that is, in more than mere abstinence – so that the flesh itself feels deprivation, want, and pain. For fasting preparation, a certain number of days of fasting is appointed, when worldly deeds are abandoned and everything is turned exclusively to cleansing the conscience; during fasting, worldly deeds continue in the same order, but fasting is reduced and other occupations are arranged according to what is possible. The affliction of the flesh alone, coupled with the cessation of all its comforts, as befits a time of lamentation, sometimes lightens the spirit, sometimes attracts God’s mercy. What a powerful means to spiritualization this is!

Observance of fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays. This from time to time powerfully reminds a person that he is not free but in servitude, under oppression; it restrains sensual excess, sobers him and grants vigor; it is like a brief reining-in of a wild horse with bridle and reins.

And beyond that, voluntary fasting on other days, especially on Monday, as is customary. Some refuse themselves certain foods and constantly eat fasting food; others fast every other day, and so forth. There are different kinds of fasting, and all are beneficial and are recommended according to one’s strength and zeal.

b) Regarding confession

Every sin that weighs on the conscience should be hastened to be cleansed by repentance, without waiting for a appointed time of fasting preparation. It is good not to keep it on the soul for a day, and still better not even an hour, for sin drives away grace, takes away boldness and prayer, hardens and cools the more the longer it remains. But once cast out through repentance, it leaves the soul-softening dew of tears.

Every day, going to sleep, make a private confession before the Lord, in which all that is sinful – in thoughts, desires, feelings, and passionate movements – as well as all that is unclean in righteous deeds, is opened to God in a sense of repentance, as something that, though seemingly against the will, is nonetheless in us and makes us unclean and worthless before God and in our own sense of purity and perfection. As you lie down to sleep, depart as if to the other world; confession prepares for this. During sleep, what was gathered during the day becomes part of our nature – it must be cleansed and all that is worthless cast out with contrition; then everything is pure afterward.

To make a confession every moment – that is, every thought, every desire, feeling, and corrupt or unclean movement, as soon as it is perceived, is to be confessed to the all-seeing God with contrition of spirit, and to ask for forgiveness and strength to avoid it in future; likewise to be cleansed in that very moment from the filth. This practice is most saving. It is like wiping one’s eyes while walking into dust; it requires strict attention of the heart. But one already gathered is always diligent and zealous. On the contrary, by leaving thoughts and desires uncast-out with contrition and repentance, a wound is left in the heart. And how many unnoticed wounds, how many assaults! No wonder, after this, coldness and falling. One thought easily begets a desire for another, desire for desire begets consent, and then internal adultery and falling. But one who is ever repenting cleanses himself continually and clears the path.

To have disclosure – that is, to open every doubt, confusion, or new understanding to another who is like-minded or to one’s spiritual father, so that he may resolve and determine its worth and pronounce judgment. By this, stagnation and deviation are avoided, the habit of judicious thinking is acquired, and consequently, time that is sometimes wasted on empty fantasizing is preserved. And chiefly, there is unceasing safety, firmness of conviction that is unshakeable, along with which comes firmness of will and constancy of action.

By all these deeds, confession truly becomes continuous. The spirit is held in contrition, in tenderness of heart, in self-humiliation, in prayerful prostration – therefore it lives. This of all practices is the most fitting for preserving the spirit of zeal, the heat of devotion, so that for some, all their practice, for themselves and for others, was confined to one thing: repent every moment and weep over your sins.

c) Regarding communion

Be present, insofar as possible, at the Liturgy more frequently, and during its celebration, stand in firm and luminous faith in the sacrifice of God being performed at that moment. The Mystery of Body and Blood is divine food for Christians and is a sacrifice. Not everyone communes at the Liturgy and not always, but the sacrifice is offered by all and for all. All therefore must participate in it. They participate through faith, painful contrition for sins, self-humbled prostration before the Lord who sacrifices Himself like a lamb for the life of the world. The very living contemplation of this Mystery powerfully quickens and stirs up the spirit. And faith and contrition always bring the cleansing of sins, and often even a hidden touching of the Lord to the Christian’s heart, consoling it and quickening it, as it were, like spiritual communion.

Such a touching is sweeter than honey and honeycomb and mightier than all spiritual strengthening means. But one must remember that it is entirely a gift of God. When, to whom, and how to bestow it depends on the Lord Himself. A Christian must receive it with reverence and joy and rejoice if it is given, but not strain toward it, not devise means to attain it, and even better, not trust whether it happens or whether it is what happens. This is to avoid pride and to prevent spiritual delusion.

If you cannot be in the temple, do not let an hour of the sacred and divine sacrifice pass without sighing and turning to God; if possible, stand in prayer and make a few prostrations. Something terrible in nature causes all creation to tremble: thunder, for example, an earthquake, a storm. At the moment of the divine sacrifice in the temple, a deed is accomplished most terrible and greatest on earth and in heaven, but is accomplished invisibly, spiritually, before the face of the infinite God the Trinity, before the holy Angels, before all the company of the Heavenly Church, before the eye of faith of all those struggling and living on earth – invisibly nevertheless, yet truly. Therefore, the believer should not pass these moments without attention. But when they are remembered, the spirit is warmed by this very remembrance and is caught up to God, and thereby grace is drawn down.

Thus, the practices of fasting preparation can approach continuity, so that together with inner work, in constant strain and strength, they maintain the heat of zeal and the seeking spirit, and with its help, all bodily and soul practices are transformed into saving means for the growth and strengthening of our inner self.

Such is the general order of guiding rules. Founded on the essence of life, it is essentially necessary for everyone who seeks the Lord. But here only the beginnings, the spirit, and the force of the rules are indicated: for example, regarding the body – displeasing the flesh in all the body’s functions; or regarding external life – withdrawal from all that is saturated with the spirit of passions, commitment of the soul in all its powers, and conduct under the influence of gracious means. These are the essential points of ascetic activity. As for the application of these beginnings, according to the diverse condition of persons, it must be diverse, and no single rule can be laid down in this case. For example, to heal the mind, it is necessary to impress Divine truths upon it, according to the understanding of the Holy Church. This can be done through reading, listening, and conversation and can be taken from the Word of God, the teachings of the Fathers, the lives of the saints, and sermons. The spiritual father must see which method is more fitting for each person and how it can be fulfilled. As each person is able, only do it. Therefore, individual asceticism appears outwardly in infinitely diverse forms. One must only keep this in mind: that spiritual father is the destroyer of the soul and the murderer who quenches the spirit of zeal by various indulgences and permissions, or who lulls to sleep and numbs those who are in coldness, for there is only one path – the narrow and sorrowful one.

The most complete and successful fulfillment of all this belongs to monasticism. This is a way of life that realizes the demands of asceticism in the best, purest, and most perfect form, precisely in its spirit. It is arduous and penitential; it always consists of those who guide and those who are guided; it is outwardly separated from the world and bound in bodily needs; it presents the greatest scope for the application of practices, readings, services, prayer, and obedience; it is especially adapted for the active rooting out of passions both in the general order – through poverty, strictness, unrest, self-forgetting – and in the particular – under a guide. And so the attentive monk quickly develops an inner yearning toward God, because of the most decisive self-sacrifice and detachment from all, because of the greater possibility of remaining within himself and because of the nourishment of the spirit by prayer. Therefore, the attentive one quickly ascends here to silence, to the solitude of the mind, and departs to rest – into the desert or into enclosure.

Rules for the Struggle Against the Passions, or the Foundations of Self-Resistance

Remaining in the established order is a powerful and mighty means for eradicating the passions, and for our purification and correction. By remaining in it consciously and freely, a person destroys the passions by setting them aside, by depriving them of nourishment or covering them, like embers under a vessel, by means of the rules shown throughout the full extent of one’s strength and activity. Passions suppressed in this way are extinguished like a candle under a jar. Yet there is no way to restrict oneself to this positive activity alone. Rules are established as healings for the forces that have been corrupted and saturated with passion. With the same power that exists in evil, one must now act in good. Therefore it is impossible not to encounter evil at the very first beginning and at the arising of activity in the first stirring of the forces. If good and evil cannot exist together, and pure good without any admixture of evil is demanded of us, then in every action we must drive out evil in order to begin and accomplish pure good. Thus, in continuous connection with the direct positive activity of the forces, there always stands an indirect activity directed toward driving out evil and the passions arising in them—in other words, the struggle against the passions and desires. The establishment of oneself in the shown ascetical practices and habituation to them is achieved through struggle and warfare, through victory over temptations and pitfalls. Who has fasted without struggling with the belly, or truly believed like a child without overcoming self-will and self-assertion? And this is not in one thing only, but throughout the whole extent of positive activity, beginning from the innermost source to the last outward manifestation in withdrawal from the world. Warfare is everywhere, so that the order shown, while it restores the forces and nature, is at the same time a field for continuous spiritual warfare. Overcome the unnatural in strength, and it will proceed into the natural; drive out and repel evil—and you will see good. Asceticism is unceasing victory.

The possibility, foundation, and condition of all inner victories is the first victory over oneself—in a breaking of the will and in the surrender of oneself to God with hostile rejection of all that is sinful. Here is born dislike for the passions, hatred, hostility—which is the spiritual military force and alone takes the place of an entire army. Where it is not, the enemy holds victory without a struggle; on the contrary, where it is present, victory is often granted to us without warfare. From this we see that just as the starting point of positive activity is our innermost self, so too is it the starting point of warfare, only in the opposite direction. Consciousness and will, the transition to the side of good with love for it, strikes with hatred at every evil and all passion—and especially at one’s own. In this precisely consists the transition, the breaking. Therefore the power that struggles against the passions is the intellect, or spirit, in which consciousness and freedom reside—a spirit held and strengthened by grace. Through it, as we have seen, the healing power passes to the forces through ascetical practices; through it also the power that strikes and destroys passes to the passions in warfare. And conversely: when the passions rise up, they aim directly at the intellect or spirit—that is, at the subjugation of consciousness and freedom. They are in the sanctuary of our inner self, whence the enemy sends through the passions his glowing arrows from the soul-body realm as from ambushes. And as long as consciousness and freedom remain whole—that is, stand on the side of good—no matter how great the attack, our victory is assured.

This, however, does not suggest that all the power of victory comes from us; it shows only the starting point. The point of support for warfare is our restored spirit; the conquering and destructive power for the passions is grace. It creates one thing in us and destroys another—but again through the spirit, or consciousness and will. The warrior cries out and throws himself upon God, complaining of his enemies and hating them, and God in him and through him drives them out and strikes them. “Be of good cheer”, says the Lord, “for I have overcome the world” (Jn 16:33). “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, confesses the Apostle (Phil 4:13)—just as without Him we can do nothing. Whoever wishes to overcome by himself will certainly fall either into the passion with which he struggles or into some other passion. But he who surrenders himself to God achieves victory as though from nothing. This does not, however, negate our own resistance but only shows that despite all resistance, success or victory can never be ours; if it exists, it always comes from God. So resist with all your might and struggle, but never cease to cast all your cares upon the living God, who says: “I am with you in the day of troubles—do not fear.”

How then should a person act, or what methods in general are suitable for subduing the passions? To determine this, we must examine and identify all his enemies, as well as the forms in which they appear and act; from this we will ourselves determine the manner of warfare against them. Success in warfare greatly depends on understanding the entire composition of the battle.

We do not make peaceful progress in good because the passions still live and are strongly supported by the present world that lies before us—a vain, visible world—and by the dark forces that rule in it. These are the sources of the movements that rise up in us against good.

Before conversion, a person is wholly filled with passion. After conversion, the spirit becomes pure, filled with zeal. But the soul and body remain passionate. When their cleansing and healing begins, they resist and rise up in defense of their life against the spirit that pursues them. These uprisings take place chiefly through bodily and psychological forces and strike the spirit insofar as these forces are allowed to do so. But there are also movements that directly attack the spirit. These are the glowing arrows that the enemy sends from the ambush of soul-body existence at the prisoner who has escaped his tyranny. Hence, even though there is a part in us that has been healed or is whole, the uprisings of sin and the passions show themselves and are felt throughout our whole existence.

In the body: the source and foundation of these is fleshly pleasure, or the indulgence of the flesh, with which is directly connected the stirring of bodily life and sensory gratification. Where these exist, there exist lustful desire, gluttony, sensual pleasure, laziness, effeminacy, wandering of the senses, talkativeness, distraction, restlessness, licentiousness, jesting, idle speech, sleepiness, drowsiness of the eyes, longing for pleasure, and all kinds of creations to gratify the flesh in desire.

In the soul:

in the mental part self-will, faith in one’s own mind alone, contradiction, rising up against God’s mind, doubt, arrogance and pride, prying curiosity, scattering of the mind, wandering of thoughts; in the desiring part—willfulness, disobedience, lust for power, cruelty, recklessness, presumption, self-appropriation, ingratitude, covetousness, greed; in the feeling part passions that disturb the peace and tranquility of the heart, or various pleasures and displeasures: anger, envy, hatred, malice, vengeance, condemnation, contempt, love of glory, vanity, pride, grief, sadness, sorrow, despair, joys, cheerfulness, fears, hopes, expectations.

The source of all these soul-body passions is self-love or self-centeredness, which though it was defeated or rejected at first, often rises up again and, clothed in some passion, enters into warfare with the spirit. This remaining self-centeredness, with all its host of passions, constitutes the smoldering carnal person and is precisely that “other law in my members” of which the Apostle speaks (Rom 7:23), from which something opposed to what the spirit desires always rises up. The holy Fathers, so as not to scatter the attention of the spiritual warrior-Christian, sought to reduce all passions to their sources, so that the warrior might know what to aim at. With this goal, around the source—self-centeredness—they place three: pleasure, greed, and pride, and then five others that arise from these. Limiting themselves to this, they described their arising and pointed out the manner of combat. He who has cut off pleasure through self-inflicted hardship, greed through not possessing things, and pride through humility, has conquered self-centeredness, for it is easier to destroy it in its offspring than in itself. All of this is in soul and body. But the spirit, which has come to life or is coming to life, is not free from suggestions, which are all the more dangerous because they touch the source of life and are often unnoticed due to their subtlety and depth. Here too, just as in soul and body, opposing the entire composition of spiritual inner life, there is an opposing series of movements and states that drive it back and obscure it. Thus often instead of inner abiding and recollection there is an outpouring of oneself into the senses; instead of the three acts of inner abiding—attention, vigilance, and sobriety—there is scattering of the mind, inner confusion, distraction, slackness, ease, lowering of oneself, licentiousness, boldness, captivity, attachment, wounding of the heart; instead of spiritual consciousness there is forgetfulness of God, death, judgment, and all spiritual things.

Since consciousness is the chief thing in the spirit, built upon inner abiding, when it falls, life-activity also falls. From this arises instead of the fear of God and the sense of dependence on Him—recklessness; instead of choosing and treasuring the spiritual—indifference to it; instead of renunciation of all things—self-indulgence (why trouble oneself!); instead of penitential feelings—lack of feeling, hardening of heart; instead of faith in the Lord—self-justification; instead of zeal—cooling, sluggishness, inertness; and instead of surrender to God—self-action.

Falling upon consciousness or will, even one such feeling either completely blocks or greatly diminishes the source of our spiritual life and places us in extreme danger. This is when help from outside is extremely necessary. These tempting movements sometimes go unnoticed by a person, for they belong to the most subtle thoughts. Psychological and bodily passions are more evident and coarse, though some subtle ones exist among them—for example, self-indulgence of the body or self-will and contradiction. In words they are understood, but in deeds they are often hidden.

Here is the entire host, ready at every moment to extinguish our new life—uprisings of sin. A person walks upon the earth of his existence as if upon quicksand, ready to sink in at every instant. When you walk, walk with caution, lest you stumble and strike your foot against a stone.

Remaining, however, within under the pressure of new rules and order, and through the activity of the spirit, all these wrong movements would not be so fierce if they were not supported by those who give them birth—the world and demons.

The world is the embodied world of passions, or passions walking about in people, customs, and deeds. By touching it with any part of oneself, one cannot help but disturb the corresponding wound or passion within oneself, according to their likeness and similar disposition. Therefore everyone living in the world is drawn toward the passions through those passions that live within him, through occasions and temptations.

But there are certain excitations that belong properly to the world itself. Such are its seductive appearance and its prosperity in everything, or its terrifying power—the feeling of abandonment and emptiness among the multitude, obstacles everywhere, thorns, mockery, contempt, neglect, suffering from lawless deeds. Following this come oppression, persecution, hostility, deprivation, and sorrows of all kinds.

And demons, as sources of all evil, with their multitudes surrounding people everywhere, teach them to commit every sin, acting through the flesh, especially the senses and that realm in which the soul and the demons themselves exist. Therefore every passion and every rising up of sin can be attributed to them as their cause. But there are certain things in the sinful circle that only demons can suggest, to which nature, despite all its corruption, seems incapable: blasphemous thoughts—doubts, disbelief, extraordinary repulsion, obscuration, spiritual delusion of various kinds, and in general passionate temptations, arrogant ones—for example, uncontrollable lust, hatred that persists until death, and the like. Besides these invisible struggles from demons, there are visible attacks from them, perceptible through the body: apparitions of various kinds, extending even to their power over the body itself. To recognize all the treachery of demons, it is useful to read the lives of Niphon, Spyridon, and others.

This is all that rises up against the new person inwardly and outwardly. The vigilant say that not even a minute passes without some stirring from one of these movements, which is inevitable, for we see how the inward face, striving for good, is surrounded by a hostile host from all sides, plunged into it like in a sea. However, beyond seeing this multitude of enemies, for success in warfare one must also know in what form these attacks come.

Let us imagine where the person’s face is after conversion. It is inward, in another world; it stands and acts as something else. He has spiritual things in his thought and spiritual deeds in his intention. This means he has turned away from what is passionate and sinful. When a favorable order for the development of good is then established through rules, one can see that he stands wholly in the realm of spiritual light, holiness. What is sinful and passionate has been put aside from his attention and lies under the weight of rules. It breaks out rarely, at times, and withdraws again, occupying or not occupying his attention. It only shows itself to his inner eye, reminds him of itself, wishes only that he occupy himself with it, think about it, dwell upon it. Therefore the chief form in which the hostile appears in us is the thought. When the enemy succeeds in occupying our mind with an evil thought, he profits by this, and often can triumph and celebrate victory, because desire can quickly lean toward the thought, and desire can be followed by resolution and then by deed, and this is already sin and fall. On this basis, the holy Fathers, who watched themselves closely, note such stages in the arising of passions and their encitement: the assault of thought, thought, gratification, desire, passion, attraction, resolution, and then the deed. In their form of appearance, sometimes they develop gradually one after another, sometimes each appears separately, outside of order, except for resolution, which is always an act that is not immediate but preceded by deliberation and an inclination of the will: as long as it does not happen, purity remains whole and conscience clean. Therefore all acts before it are designated by one word: thought—simply or with qualification, simple thought, passionate thought, lustful thought, because it appears in us either as simply a thought, a representation only of a sinful object, or as lust, desire, craving, or finally as passion, as attraction. All of them entice and tempt the mind or spirit toward what is passionate and sinful, but this is not yet evil, not yet sin, as long as the mind does not consent to them, does not enter into struggle with them each time they appear, does not drive them out. The boundaries of warfare are from the appearance of thought, desire, passion, attraction, to their disappearance and the cleaning out of every trace of them; to this all the rules of this warfare are directed. It is true that the world acts from without, as does Satan, but their tempting actions reach our consciousness in no other way than through one of these three, for all their concern is to shake the inner state and incline us toward them. All their cunning is directed here, so that in this respect it is not the method or deeds they use against us that is important, but what they aim to arouse in us that matters and has value in life and action. For instance, in persecutions the goal is not the person’s suffering but the thought of complaint or despair or abandonment of virtue. Consequently, in relation to spiritual warfare, one can definitively establish: no matter where and how the sinful arises, turn all your power and all your attention to the sinful itself; begin the action with it and struggle with it. This is a law of great importance: it will keep a person focused inward, and therefore in power and in a certain sense in safety. This is why the holy Fathers directed all their rules toward thoughts, passions, desires, and applied them to their nature; the causes they either do not mention or, if they do mention them, do not give them special significance in this respect and often do not distinguish between them. For the world, demons, and lust can all arouse and do arouse the same passion, but it does not take on any special character from this. Therefore let all the attention of the ascetic be turned inward—toward thoughts, desires, passions, attractions—first and foremost, however, toward thoughts, for the heart and will are not as restless as the mind, and passions and desires rarely arise separately; for the most part they are born from thoughts. Hence the rule: cut off the thought—and you will cut off everything.

After this it becomes very easy to make a general sketch of spiritual warfare. It is sufficiently depicted in the “Letters on Christian Life.” We extract it from there.

Of the rules of spiritual warfare, which constitute the military art of the Christian, some serve to prevent attacks, others to accomplish the ending of warfare more easily and successfully, and still others to firmly establish the fruits of victory or to more quickly eliminate the consequences of defeat; and thus they naturally divide into three classes: a) rules to observe before warfare, b) during the warfare itself, and c) after it.

Before warfare the warrior must act in such a way that through his activity he either prevents attacks, or gives himself the opportunity to notice them at the very beginning, or even prepares for victory. Therefore first of all he must narrow the realm of sinful movements, bring them together into one place, because in this way he will not only find it easier to notice disturbances, but will also see more clearly where to direct his forces.

The outer boundary of the sinful realm in general is like this: establishing itself at the center of life—the heart—sin penetrates into the soul and body through all their functions, then passes into all a person’s external relationships, and finally spreads its cover over everything surrounding him. Even now, driven out from the depths of the heart, it still hovers in the vicinity, still feeds on what it fed on before; people, things, circumstances can easily arouse the same thoughts and feelings that a person associated with them when he served sin. The prudent warrior must now cut off this external supply for the enemy. To do this he needs to: restructure all his external behavior, give all of it a new appearance, new motives, new times, and so forth according to the spirit of the new life; distribute his time so that no hour remains without proper occupation. The time free from necessary occupations should be filled not with anything but with occupations that help in the mortification of sin and strengthening of the spirit. How beneficial certain bodily ascetical practices are, contrary to the noticed inclinations, anyone can experience; bind one’s senses, especially the eyes, ears, and tongue, which are the easiest conduits of sin from the heart outward and from without into the heart; give a spiritual character to everything with which one necessarily must meet—things, people, circumstances—and especially fill one’s place of constant abiding with things striking to the soul, so that living in the external world a person might live as if in some Divine school.

In general, one should arrange one’s entire external life so that, on the one hand, it does not already require special attention and frees us from every care about it, and on the other hand, not only makes us safe from unexpected uprisings of sin but feeds and strengthens the emerging new life according to the spirit. With such an order sin will be completely cut off from without; it will no longer receive its food and support from here.

If now from the inner side a person applies all effort to preserve himself as he is, in the condition he emerged from the first victory, if he constantly warms the feelings and dispositions that were born in him at that time, then sin will be cut off from within too and will remain here forever without support or strength. Sin, deprived of food and support in this way, if it is not destroyed immediately, must at least grow weaker and weaker until it is completely exhausted. After this, the struggle with sin will obviously decrease and will be concentrated entirely in the struggle with thoughts (which will especially tend to disrupt the new order), rarely with passions and inclinations, where only one must be carefully watchful. Exactly two vigilant guards must a warrior of Christ have constantly: sobriety and discernment. The first is turned inward, and the second outward; the former observes the movements coming from the heart itself, while the latter foresees movements that will arise in it through external influence. The law for the first: after expelling from the soul every thought through the memory of God’s presence, stand at the door of the heart and carefully watch everything entering and leaving it, especially do not let feeling and desire act first, for from here all evil comes. The law for the second: at the beginning of each day sit down and review all possible encounters and circumstances, all possible feelings and movements that might arise through them, and in advance prepare the proper defense in yourself so as not to be confused or fall when an unexpected attack comes. To act more successfully in the attack itself, it is useful to previously arrange intentional mental warfare, mentally placing oneself in various circumstances with various feelings and desires, and inventing different ways to keep oneself within proper bounds, and observing what helped us most in that and what in another case. Such preliminary practice forms a warring spirit, trains one to meet the enemy without fear, and without great effort to defeat him as if by means of methods known through experience. Besides this, before we begin to fight, we must previously learn when to act offensively, when defensively, and when to retreat. Apart from the fact that the use of one or another method of warfare corresponds to the degrees of spiritual growth, at first it is best to retreat altogether—that is, to take shelter under the protection of the Lord, without resistance. Later, when we have come to know our enemies through experience and have studied their attacks, without wasting time we can repel them, but we should not deliberately allow passions to arise within us or place ourselves in such circumstances where they must act with full force in order to have an opportunity to struggle and gain victory. There are particular passionate arousions that can be overcome exclusively by one or another method. Thoughts must be driven out without fail, but this is not always possible with inclinations and passions, especially bodily ones. In either case, ignorance alone can mean the loss of victory. Finally, we should never go out to warfare without the principal conquering thought—as it were a victorious banner. As it once decided the matter between good and evil in favor of the first, so now, during warfare with each particular sinful movement of the soul, it will without difficulty make us victors. With its appearance all the hosts of enemies should scatter, all vicious thoughts and desires. It has the power to inspire and lift a person above himself; therefore one must bring it to consciousness as often as possible and bring it to feeling—establish forever on the mental firmament this light that drives back darkness. Nothing can kindle zeal for the eradication of sin more powerfully than this thought—zeal, this swift stream of living water, which, moving though not disturbed, makes all the waves from the throwing of stones of temptations imperceptible.

With such precautions and rules, go forth, warrior of Christ, with confidence into warfare. However, even during the warfare itself you must act according to certain rules so as not to resemble enemies acting in disorderly attack. Often a single order of action, without special strain, can crown you with success. Upon noticing the approach of the enemy—the beginning of an arousal of thought, passion, or inclination—first of all hurry to recognize that these are enemies. It is a great and universal mistake to consider all that arises in us as our own blood relative, for which we should stand as for ourselves. All sin is alien to us; therefore we must always separate it from ourselves, otherwise we will have a traitor within us. Whoever wishes to wage warfare with himself must divide himself into himself and into the enemy lurking within him.

Having separated the vicious movement from yourself and recognized it as an enemy, then transfer this recognition to feeling, awaken in the heart hatred for it. This is the most salvific means for driving out sin. Every sinful movement is held in the soul through the sensation of some pleasure from it; therefore, when hatred is aroused toward it, it, losing all support, disappears of itself. However, this is not always easy and not always possible: it is easy to strike down thoughts with anger, more difficult desires, but even more difficult passions, for they are themselves heartfelt movements. When this does not help and the enemy will not yield victory in this way without a struggle, then courageously, but without self-exaltation and presumptuousness, engage in struggle. Fear throws the soul into confusion, into a kind of agitation and weakness, and if it is not established in itself, it can easily fall. Self-exaltation and self-conceit are themselves enemies with which one must struggle: whoever has allowed them has already fallen and has further inclined himself to new falls, because they render a person inactive and careless. Warfare has begun—guard above all your heart: do not let the arising movements reach feeling; meet them at the very entrance into the soul and strive to strike them there. To do this, hurry to raise up in the soul convictions opposed to those on which the disturbing thought depends. Such counter-convictions are in mental warfare not only a shield but arrows—they defend your heart and strike the enemy in the heart itself. From then on the warfare will consist of this: the risen sin will constantly be defended by thoughts and representations protecting it, while the one struggling will destroy these defenses with opposing thoughts and representations. The duration of this depends on many varying circumstances that cannot be completely determined. One must only not weaken and not, even in thought, incline toward the enemy’s side—and victory is certain, for the sinful movement, as we noted before, has no firm support in us and therefore must naturally cease quickly. Even if afterward, despite this sincere action in defense of yourself, the enemy still stands in your soul like an apparition and will not yield his place, this is a clear sign that he is being supported by an external force; therefore you too must turn to external help, earthly or heavenly—open yourself to your guide and in earnest prayer call upon the Lord, all the saints, and especially your guardian Angel. Surrender to God was never ashamed. We must, however, note that it is one thing to wage warfare with thoughts, another with passions, another with desires: one thought differs from another, one desire from another, one passion from another. In all of this one must employ particular methods, which must be determined beforehand either through reflection or from monastic experiences and teachings. But one should not always take up resistance strictly: sometimes mere contempt drives away the enemy, while resistance only multiplies him and irritates him. One must pursue the enemy until no trace of him remains, otherwise even a simple thought left in the heart like evil seed will bear its fruit in the imperceptible inclination of the soul toward itself. During the warfare itself one should not undertake measures for future prevention of it. Rules devised there are always very strict, and therefore it is always necessary to change them and consequently to present the experience of their ineffectiveness, which is so harmful in spiritual warfare and seductive to the warrior.

Warfare is over. Give thanks to the Lord for deliverance from defeat, but do not abandon yourself excessively to the joy of salvation, do not allow negligence, do not weaken your zeal—the enemy often feigns defeat so that when you abandon yourself to a sense of security, he can strike you more easily with an unexpected attack. Therefore do not remove your weapons of warfare and do not forget the protective rules. Be always a vigilant and watchful warrior. Instead, sit and review the spoils: examine the entire course of warfare—its beginning, duration, and finally what gave occasion to it, what especially strengthened it, and what ended it. This will be a kind of tribute from the conquered, which will greatly ease future victories over them; thus spiritual wisdom and monastic experience are finally acquired. Do not speak to anyone of your victory—this will greatly irritate the enemy and will drain you of strength. The vanity you cannot avoid in this will open the doors to spiritual slackness, and after victory over one enemy you will have to fight an entire host of them. And if you are defeated, grieve, but do not flee from God, do not resist; hurry to soften your heart and bring it to repentance. It is impossible not to fall, but it is possible and necessary, having fallen, to rise. A runner who runs quickly, if he stumbles on something, quickly gets up and runs again toward his goal—imitate him. Our Lord is like a mother who leads her child by the hand and does not abandon him, even though he very often stumbles and falls. Better instead of fruitless despair, be encouraged to new efforts, extracting from this fall the lesson of humility and care so as not to go where it is slippery and where one cannot help but fall. If you do not erase the sin by sincere repentance, then once it has gained some strength in you, it will inevitably pull you down to the bottom of the sinful sea. Sin will dominate you and you will again need to begin the first struggle, but only God knows whether this will be possible. Perhaps by surrendering to sin now you will cross the line of conversion; perhaps afterward not a single truth will remain that could strike your heart; perhaps you will not even be given grace. Then even here you will belong to those condemned to eternal torment.

In general, concerning the rules of warfare, it must be noted that they are in essence nothing other than the application of full armor to particular cases, and therefore it is impossible to depict them all. The work of inner warfare is incomprehensible and hidden; the circumstances for it are extremely varied, the people fighting are too different: what is a pitfall for one means nothing for another; what strikes one, to another is completely indifferent. Therefore it is simply impossible to establish one rule for all. The best inventor of the rules of warfare is each person for themselves. Experience will teach all, one need only have earnest desire to overcome oneself. The first ascetics did not learn from books, yet present themselves as models of victors. Besides, one should not rely too much on these rules—they present only the outer outline. What constitutes the essence of the matter, each person learns only from experience when they begin to fight in actual deed. And in this action his guides are only his own discernment and surrender to God. The inner course of Christian life in each person recalls ancient underground passages, extremely intricate and hidden. Entering into them, the person tested receives some instructions in general outline—there do this, there do that, here by such and such a sign, and there by such and such a sign—and then is left alone in darkness, sometimes with only a faint light of a lamp. Everything depends on his presence of mind, discernment, care, and unseen guidance. Similar secrecy also exists in inner Christian life. Here everyone walks alone, even if surrounded by a multitude of rules. Only the feelings of the trained heart and especially the promptings of grace serve him as constant, infallible and inseparable guides in warfare with himself; everything else abandons him.

Such is the course of warfare against every passion, desire, and thought. Since they are all thoughts, desires, and passions, they are all equal; consequently, there is no particular need to discuss individually the struggle with each thought. Let us make only a few observations:

There are thoughts that are subtle and most subtle, and there are thoughts that are coarse and very coarse. The latter anyone can notice by himself; the former go unnoticed while remaining in the heart, but reveal themselves only afterward—from deeds, and by others more than by oneself. This is the reason not to believe in your own peace, goodness, and purity in the slightest, but to suspect it always and carefully follow the course of your deeds and see what thoughts accompany them and how they end, so that from this you might judge what originally lay within. It is best, however, to have another confidant—an experienced eye from without will immediately show what lies hidden within us, though we do not notice it. When we speak of the most subtle thoughts, we do not mean only spiritual ones: they can come from the body and soul. Their distinctive property is imperceptibility, concealment in the depths, so that a person thinks he is acting purely, without any admixture of passion, when in fact he is acting from passion. The cause is unstable purity of heart or, better, the not-yet-formed discernment of the natural from the alien. When this comes to be, then the subtle and most subtle becomes coarse and very coarse, for then attention will be sharpened by experience and the senses of the heart will be trained in distinguishing good from evil.

There are thoughts, desires, and passions that come in the form of assaults and brief disturbances, and there are constant ones, lasting days, months, and years. The former are easy, but one should not despise them either and should watch carefully not only over them but over their order. The enemy has, as it were, a law—not to begin at once with passion but with a thought, and to repeat it often. Driven away with anger the first time, it can be received more indulgently the second, the third, then desire and passion are born, and from there—one step to consent and deed. Continuous thoughts are heavy, deadly; they especially deserve the name of temptations. Know concerning them that they are not from nature, though suited to it by their nature, but always from the enemy; that the Lord permits them with a particular intention regarding our purification, to test and establish our faithfulness, faith, constancy, and ability to build the inner person—therefore one should bear them with equanimity, even if they are very offensive to the new gracious heart, such as blasphemies, despair, disbelief. The main thing is that throughout this entire time we should in no way incline toward them, should not appropriate them to ourselves, and should keep the heart free from them, separating them from ourselves and our freedom by thought and faith.

Thoughts that one must struggle with are not always bad, but often appear good and very often are neutral. Concerning bad ones—there is one law: drive them out immediately; the latter, however, must be discerned or reflected upon. Here pertains that experience praised by all of distinguishing thoughts—which ones to carry out and which to reject. It is impossible to set forth rules for this: let everyone learn from their own experience, for one person does not fit another so that what is right for one would be right for us. Better thus: an order of deeds has been established—and walk in it, and drive out everything new that comes, no matter how favorable it might seem. If a thought presents nothing bad either in itself or in its consequences, then even then do not quickly incline toward it but wait for a time, so as not to be rash. Some have waited five years and not carried out the thought. The chief law is not to trust your own reason and heart and to verify every thought with your guide. The violation of this rule has always been and is the cause of great falls and spiritual delusions.

A bad thought tempts, while a favorable-seeming thought deceives. Whoever is drawn away by the first is considered to have sinned and fallen, while whoever is drawn away by the latter is considered to be in delusion. Is it possible to depict all delusions in their beginnings and characteristics? The characteristic feature of them is especially that a person confidently considers himself to be what he is not—for example, called to instruct others, capable of extraordinary life, and so on. The sources of them are the most subtle thought that I am something and I am something quite significant. The insignificant thinks something of himself. To this most hidden pride the enemy clings and entangles a person. However, any subtle bad thought not noticed by us holds us in delusion; when we think we are led by a good and pious thought, we are in delusion. In this respect one can say that not a moment passes when we are not in delusion; we walk as if in phantoms, entangled in them now in this form, now in that. This is because evil still lies within, has not evaporated, while good is on the surface; hence in our eyes there is a kind of fog from the vapor rising up.

As for each particular thought, it is good to gather information about them beforehand—that is, to have understanding of them, the causes of their origin, their consequences, and the ways to drive them out. This will be a spare arsenal, very useful in time of warfare, namely: when hatred does not drive out a thought and it begins to multiply, seducing and persuading, then one must also set against it something refutative. But to do this, one must have thoughts in reserve. In this respect the holy Fathers selected the chief eight passions and described them as models, which anyone seeking can make use of. However, these are not exclusive subjects of warfare but only the chief ones. Thus in others we find descriptions of other passions and rules for them. The richest collection of them is in John of the Ladder.

There are bodily thoughts, psychological thoughts, and spiritual thoughts. To everyone it is obvious that they can all be present at any time, but naturally, at first bodily ones are more noticeable, then psychological and spiritual ones open up. Warfare should correspondingly transition or change its positions. Know this so that the one who has overcome the body should not abandon himself to negligence from a sense of security, because he can be defeated through the soul, and he who has pacified the soul can be struck in the spirit. In general, as long as there is breath, warfare will not cease, though it may grow quiet, and sometimes for a long time.

Saint Dorotheos says: “There is the passion acting, there is the one struggling, and there is the one victorious.” The first sins, the second begins to be purified, the third is close to passionlessness. The more decisively one rises up against the passions, not yielding to them even in thought, much less in desire and gratification, or if this happens, speedily tearing them out by the root from the heart, always bringing oneself to the opposite feeling, the sooner he reaches purity. The more compliant a person is to himself, more indulgent, the longer the matter drags on with stops and unevenness. This depends on self-pity or the failure to separate oneself from passion: by pitying oneself, a person caresses the enemy and fights against himself.

The result of warfare is purity of mind from thoughts, heart from passions, will from inclinations. When this comes into being, a person enters into passionlessness. His inner self becomes a pure mirror reflecting spiritual things.

Mental warfare with thoughts, desires, and passions should not constitute the sole, exclusive means replacing all others for purifying our filth, despite its decisive necessity, inevitability, and victorious power. With it must be established in continuous connection active struggle against the passions, or their uprooting, extinguishing, and destruction through opposite deeds. The reason is that passion penetrated our forces and penetrated them because we acted passionately. Each passionate deed placed in our force a bit of passion, and the totality of all deeds filled the force with passion as a sponge with water or a garment with stench. It follows also that to squeeze out this passion one must employ opposite deeds, so that each deed, settling into the force, would squeeze out from it the corresponding part of passion, and many such deeds, done often and continuously, all passion. Such a means, if only employed properly, is so powerful that those who act according to it, after a few experiences, begin to feel the decrease of passions, relief and freedom, and a certain light in the soul. Mental warfare alone drives passion out of consciousness, but it still remains alive, only hidden. On the contrary, the opposite deed strikes this serpent in the head. From this it does not follow, however, that in doing one can cease mental struggle. This must remain inseparably connected with it; otherwise it can remain without any fruit and even, instead of diminishing passion, spread it, because while struggling with one passion through deeds, another may cling, for example, vanity while fasting. If this is left unattended, then despite all effort there will be no fruit from the deed. Mental struggle in connection with active struggle, striking passion from without and from within, destroys it as quickly as an enemy perishes when surrounded and beaten both from behind and from in front.

In this active self-correction one must observe a certain order and structure, in the building of which one should pay attention to the nature of passion in general, to one’s own character, and to good deeds mentioned in positive activity. In the first case one should aim at the chief passions: sensuality, greed, and pride—and consequently mainly exercise oneself in self-mortification and harshness, in squandering possessions and destroying things, in subjection and submission to others, or self-effacement. Among the saints who actively undertook to purify themselves, such deeds are always seen in the foreground. In the second—at one’s own chief passion. This chief passion will appear at conversion, in the time of awareness of one’s sinfulness and repentance. When one makes a vow not to sin, this passion is held most in mind. Therefore after this too it should constitute the immediate subject of resistance to the sin living in us. It overshadows all other passions, just as it binds them around itself or gives them a point of support on itself. Other passions can only open up as this one is weakened and overcome, and with it be scattered. One must arm oneself with all might against it from the first time, all the more since there is much hatred for it here, giving power to resist. And one cannot move on to overcoming the fundamental passions without subduing it. In the third respect the order of good deeds is evident of itself. Namely, first will come deeds against the ruling passion, then against the source passions, and then, when that and these have quieted down, good deeds retain freedom to finish off the remains of the hostile host according to its discretion, and more according to inner direction. Whatever passion awakens and shows itself, against that assign deeds. These are the marks of combative action, and by them one should be engaged according to a certain law. Besides observing the shown order—in resistance itself there must be gradualness and evenness, so as not to jump from one to another like a scattered person. There will be no true fruit, and conceit will be sown. Act more decisively and constantly—then the nearer to the end and rest. Endure in the begun deed until the fruit appears, for the end crowns the deed. And what will be shown by experience the practitioner must observe. It seems it goes thus: right after conversion comes at once the active struggle against passions; from it or with it comes at once inner struggle; then further, they are mutually reinforcing and strengthening: the inner grows—the outer grows, the outer grows—the inner grows; finally, when both have sufficiently strengthened, the person comes to thoughts about greater ascetical practices and deeds for the decisive extinguishing of passions, their cutting in the root. One should not take great ascetical practices by oneself, nor counsel others to do so. One should act little by little, gradually growing and strengthening, so that it is an ascent and strength. Otherwise our deed will resemble a new patch on an old garment. The requirement for ascetical practice should come from within, as sometimes to a sick person definitive healing treatment indicates a prompt and sense.

Mental and active struggle against the passions is powerful in itself, but the matter proceeds incomparably faster, more fruitfully, and more smoothly when it is led under the guidance of another. You cannot always notice the enemy by yourself in mental warfare, cannot always know how to act against him and maintain your zeal and resolution for it, and most importantly—in neither case can you have a single plan, a preliminary outline by which to conduct all your warfare. Accomplishing this is completely impossible by yourself. Someone must see both your present and your future from outside. Therefore surrender to a guide must be considered the best and decisive means to self-correction. He will employ the same means against us and in us—mental and active warfare—but chiefly according to his discernment, his design, with attention to the goal, the path, and the crossroads. So whoever wishes and seeks purification, find and pray to the Lord for a guide-father; having found him, tell him everything about yourself that you know and see in yourself. Then give yourself to him entirely, both inwardly and outwardly—give yourself as unworked material so that he might build from it a house for the Lord, a new person. Having thus proceeded, abandon all concern for yourself and carefree hide under the hand of the father. Let him lead where and how he wishes; let him command to do what, when, and where he wishes. On our part we offer him unquestioning obedience, a believing one, not reasoning, and complete openness of conscience to him, or confession of our thoughts, desires, passions, deeds, words—all that we do and all that happens to us. By this we give him the ability to see where we are and in what state our inner structure is, and we give him cause, according to this, to give us advice and assign us deeds. The confession of thoughts and obedience to the father are decisive destroyers of passions and conquerors of demons. Each time disclosure is made and then what is assigned on that basis is carried out, it is the same as cleansing a wound and changing the dressing. Swift medicine! The one who has disclosed casts out all filth and, through obedience, then takes what is clean, new food, pure juice—as one would take a purgative, and then good food. But what is most important—through this the very root of passions is cut, namely: self-centeredness, the I. One conducting the warfare by himself still conducts it by himself and thus while acting against self-centeredness, in a certain way nourishes it. With a guide, however, our I definitely disappears into his will from the first, and with this all passions lose their support and afterward arise and act without order, in confusion, but even here all their cunning is outwitted and rendered ineffective through openness. In general, this is a powerful way to kill passions and flow quickly toward purity. All the experience of the saints leads here; and examples are innumerable. We must also note that the sooner after conversion a guide is found and chosen, the better. Zeal is alive and ready for anything, and what will a wise leader not accomplish with it, especially when self-will has not yet formed, which gives stubbornness, distrust, contradiction, corrections. He sick with this, having chosen a guide, must first be healed from it so as to enter the rank of a good son, capable of being formed. Woe when the soul becomes accustomed to do everything according to its own reason and will.

Finally, the ultimate, as it were, complete cleansing of our entire composition and its purification as if in fire is accomplished by the Lord Himself. Namely: from without—through sorrows; from within—through tears. One cannot say they appear only at the end and did not exist before. No, they begin from the first, from the very beginning, and accompany a person in the form of various unpleasantnesses and contrition of heart, and the more a person grows, the more they intensify. But the Lord introduces them into us in this way, permitting them and as if blessing the ordinary course of external and internal affairs for our good. Toward the end, however, He deliberately arranges them, gives tears, brings sorrows—either together or one after the other, and sometimes one before the other, and even one for one person and another for another. Sorrows are fire, tears are water. This is baptism with water and fire. In Saint Isaac of Syria this is depicted as a lifting onto the cross, or the final crucifixion of the external person. This moment, as they say, is the most trying, like the one that came to Abraham bringing his son as a sacrifice: in the mind—darkness, in the heart—joyless anguish, from above—expectation of wrath, from below—ready hell; a person sees himself perishing, hanging over an abyss. Some go forth from this in triumph, others fall and return backward to climb this mountain again. Those who have passed this stage, having risen to heaven, are no longer earthly but heavenly, are lifted by the Divine Spirit and carried by it, like wheels in the vision of Ezekiel. God is in them acting. Their state is incomprehensible to thought. It is known only through experience, and therefore those who have passed through it do not speak of it; it is neither useful and perhaps even not harmless.

Thus it is at the end. Until that time, alongside other means, as the most powerful means of purification, must be felt constantly the sorrows and unpleasantnesses ordained by God and the spirit of contrition given by Him. In power it equals the guide and in his absence can sufficiently replace him, and does replace him for a believing and humble person. For in such a case God Himself is the Guide, and He is undoubtedly wiser than a person. Saint Isaac of Syria depicts in detail with what gradualness the Lord brings the one being purified ever more into purifying sorrows and how He warms within him the spirit of contrition. On our part what is required is only faith in His good providence and ready, joyful, grateful reception of all He sends. The lack of this deprives the purifying power of sorrowful circumstances, does not let it pass into the heart and into our depths. This is in relation to sorrows. In relation to contrition—careful awareness of one’s sins and one’s disorder through watching oneself and what happens in us, and then frequent confession with sincere repentance and sorrow. Without external sorrows it is difficult for a person to stand against pride and self-conceit, and without tears of contrition how can one be freed from the internal selfishness of Pharisaic self-righteousness? The one who does not have the first is considered by the Apostle an adulterer. Since they are not in our power but in God’s hands, fearing to ask for them out of distrust of our strength and not knowing whether we will endure them, at least in no way should we be negligent about the latter. It is in our hands more than half and we are not forbidden to pray for it. So with as much means and wisdom as you have, strain yourself, as much as you can, to grieve before God in repentance, falling before Him and praying for mercy. Seeing the effort, He will give both constant contrition and, if needed, abundant tears with which the face of the soul will be washed and finally completely purified. Prosperity should lead not to self-confidence and boasting but to fear that the Lord has not already abandoned you as useless, and therefore to stronger zeal for heart-contrition, which is always a sacrifice pleasing to God. Indeed, one can say, when you do not have external sorrow, grieve internally, for God as it were calls you to this. Meanwhile also the opposite: to one who grieves externally the Lord Himself sends consolations—moments of ravishing joy making one forget sorrows, healing wounds, during which complaint is impossible. Tears may or may not be present: all that matters is sorrow before God for one’s uncleanness.

Here are all the means by which passions are destroyed in us—through our own laborious works, through guides, or through the Lord Himself. It was already noted that without mental inner warfare external warfare cannot be successful; the same must be said of warfare under guidance as well as of providential purification. Consequently inner warfare must be unceasing and unchanging. By itself alone it is not so powerful, but when it is absent, all others are ineffective, to no benefit. Both those who labor and those who suffer, those who weep and those who obey have perished and perish from the lack of inner warfare or guarding of the mind. If we also recall what was said before about inner positive activity—namely that in it is the goal and power of external positive activity—then the whole significance of inner activity will be revealed in full force, and everyone will see that it is the source, foundation, and goal of all asceticism. All our labor can be condensed into the following formula: having gathered yourself inward, raise up spiritual consciousness and life-activity and in this state walk along the outlined external labor under the guidance of a guide or Providence, but with this strict and intense attention watch and follow all that arises within. As soon as a passionate uprising is born, drive it out and strike at it both mentally and actively, not forgetting to kindle in yourself a contrite and sorrowful spirit concerning your sins.

Here all the attention of the ascetic should be directed so that in striving he not be scattered and remain as if bound or girt about the loins in his thoughts. Walking with such inner abiding and guarding is watchful walking, and the science of this is the science of watchfulness. Now it is clear why all ascetics considered watchfulness the chief of ascetical virtues and considered him who does not have it barren. Therefore it must be marked out especially. It has already been discussed, but that was only the beginning. There it was spoken of so as to show that one must go forth to active resistance and self-compulsion only inwardly, or better, remain in it—having established oneself inwardly. Now from the same starting point let us ascend upward, for there is the goal, and the external is the means. That is, one must show the essential yearning of the striving spirit toward God, the conditions for speedier approach to Him, and the state of the one drawing near, or better, the one capable of it, for the very drawing near comes from God.

Beginnings of Ascent to Living Communion With God

Having established himself inwardly, the convert directs all the power of his zeal toward the labors of self-correction from uncleanness and passions, toward freeing his forces and strengthening them in godly activity. This work absorbs all his attention, all his labors, and all his time. As he becomes accustomed to this practice and, at the same time, arranges and organizes his inner state, he naturally enters more and more into himself, gathers himself inward, and establishes the foundation of constant inner abiding. This is the goal of initial ascetical practice, the entrance into oneself. At the very time when a person begins to establish himself in himself, little by little the chief goal opens before him, which he should seek and which before was as if hidden behind the multitude of labors. But also of itself naturally, as one departs from the realm of passions, the chief striving and yearning of our spirit should become evident, for the sake of extending the sphere of which all this labor is undertaken. This goal and striving is yearning toward God as the supreme good. It becomes possible under the condition of tasting the sweetness of life in God or perceiving—how good God is; therefore it does not appear all at once. At first fear lies upon a person: he serves like a slave, by duty, obligation, which he became aware of in the moment of awakening. Then fear abates and, without disappearing, gives place to sweetness in serving the Lord, the sense of pleasantness in Him. The appearance of this is the appearance of the first reviving of the soul for God, the vision of its bright goal. When this yearning appears, it then begins to grow of itself in that same order in the midst of which it was born. However, one must not wait for it alone and remain inactive regarding it; no, a person must himself act in a certain way so as to help the speedier opening of this yearning. For this, the inner positive activity assigned earlier is chiefly intended, but all deeds, as they are performed, insofar as they are performed not going outward, are capable of rendering help to this yearning, of growing and strengthening it with trust in all from God and the offering of all to God’s glory. This should be the spirit of all the shown labor; otherwise it will remain barren and, what is especially important, a person cannot bear its burden without this inner strength given to him. Thus the former ascetical practices can develop yearning toward God, but one must direct them toward this by a particular inner disposition, which must be maintained while passing through them.

Ascent to God

The ascent of the mind to God, or the drawing toward Him, is formed as the inner practices are strengthened. It is born in them like a seed and matures on them as on soil. Guarding this inner work, in order to awaken more quickly the drawing toward God, one must in this:

Accustom the mind to walking before God. Let a person strive unceasingly to see God, as if standing at His right hand, and rise to the feeling that he is seen by God. Cultivation in this is the door to God, the opening of heaven to the mind.

Do all things for the glory of God and in nothing—neither outwardly nor inwardly—have in view anything other than this glory: it must be the measure of your undertakings and set its seal upon them.

Do all things according to the awareness of God’s will for this, walk in this will and obey it in all things and submit with all your soul. Action according to God’s will embraces all that comes from a person, while obedience to it embraces all that comes to a person. Whatever you do, strive to see what God wants from you in this deed; whatever meets you, receive it as from the hand of the Lord. A person, a thing, an event, joy, sorrow—receive all with gladness, submit to all willingly, peacefully, with delight, despite opposition.

Through these spiritual practices, the mind increasingly will gain sight toward God and be established in beholding God—it will become accustomed to stand in mind in the vision of God with His infinite perfections. This vision is given mostly during times of prayerful standing before God and grows through this same prayerful standing before God. It is the beginning of ascent to living communion with God.

At the same time with beholding God appears and is perfected a reverent adoration of God in spirit, when the spirit, in anguished crying out to God, falls before Him in self-abasement as a creature, yet not with a painful feeling that it is trampled and rejected, but with the awareness that it is received, have mercy shown to it, and blessed.

As a result of this, there will appear irresistible impulses inward and rapture toward God.

Striving toward God is the goal. But at first it is only in intention, sought after. One must make it actual, living, like a natural drawing, sweet, willing, irresistible. Only such drawing shows that we are in our proper station, that God receives us, that we are going to Him. When iron is drawn to a magnet, this means that the magnetic force touches it; the same is true in the spiritual sense: only then is it evident that God touches us, when there is this living striving—when the spirit, passing over all else, rushes toward God, is caught up in rapture. At first this does not happen—the person striving is wholly turned toward himself, though for God’s sake, but this regard for God is only mental. The Lord has not yet given him to taste Himself, and the person is incapable because he is unclean. He serves God, so to speak, without relish. Then, as the heart is cleansed and corrected, he begins to feel the sweetness in a life pleasing to God, to walk in it with love and willingness—it becomes his delightful element. The soul begins to separate from all things as from cold, and strains toward God, who warms it. The beginnings of this drawing are laid in the spirit that is zealous for divine grace. Through its gifts and guidance, it grows amid the order indicated, being nourished even without awareness of one’s own action. The sign of this birth is: willing, quiet, unforced inner remaining before God, accompanied by feelings of reverence, fear, joy, and so forth. Before, the spirit forced itself inward, but now it establishes itself and stands there immovably. It is joyful for it to be there alone with God in withdrawal from others, or without attention to anything external. It finds within itself the Kingdom of God, which is “peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 14:17). Such immersion inward, or immersion in God, is called noetic stillness or rapture toward God. It happens transiently, but must be made constant, because in this lies the goal. God is in us when our spirit is in God truly, for this is not mental communion but living, still, withdrawn immersion in God. As a ray of sun carries off a drop of dew, so the Lord catches up the spirit by touching it. “The spirit took me up”, says the prophet (Ezek. 3:12). Many of the saints were constantly in rapture toward God, while the spirit came upon others temporarily, but often. Thus such drawing, or entry into God, is conceived, grows, and is perfected by divine grace in one who seeks God sincerely, conscientiously, earnestly.

The essential condition for this is the purification of the heart to receive the God who draws us: “the pure in heart will see God” (Mt. 5:8). Therefore, all the struggles, exercises, and works indicated up to now are the necessary, unavoidable preparation for this. But all of them must be undertaken properly, and precisely with this direction. The chief thing here is guarding the heart: the treasure of the striving spirit is within; the condition of the reality of struggles, exercises, and works is that they proceed from within, progress in the struggle only from within; the best way to form the drawing toward God is internal. Consequently, inner work is the central source of spiritual, truly Christian life. Therefore, among the holy fathers it is the only way to perfection. “Be watchful” and “be alert, stay awake and pray”, says the Lord (1 Pet. 5:8; Mk. 14:38). Watchfulness, or guarding of the heart, is the principal struggle. Among the holy fathers, everything is directed here: everything is in the heart, for what is in it will also be in deed.

The decisive step in ascent to God, the very threshold of communion with God, is complete self-surrender to Him, after which He is the one acting, not the person. What is the full strength in, or what are we seeking? Communion with God—that is, that God would dwell in us and begin to walk in us, clothe Himself, so to speak, in our spirit, rule by His mind, will, and feeling, so that both “to will and to do” in us would be His work, so that He would be the one acting all in all, while we would become His instruments, or would be acted upon by Him, in thoughts and desires and feelings and words and deeds. This is what the Lord, Master of all, seeks, for He alone does all things in creatures through creatures themselves. The spirit that has come to know itself must seek the same.

The condition for this indwelling of God in us and His reign, or the reception of His all-encompassing action, is the renunciation of our freedom. A free creature, by its awareness and determination, acts from itself, but this should not be so. In the Kingdom of God there should be no one acting by himself, but God acting in all things, and this will not happen while freedom stands by itself—it denies and rejects God’s power. And only when our freedom, or self-directed and personal activity, falls before Him, will this stubbornness against God’s power cease, when man utters the decisive prayer: “You, Lord, act in me as You will, for I am both blind and weak.”

It is at this moment that God’s power enters the spirit of a person and begins its all-encompassing action. Thus the condition for God’s indwelling in us is decisive self-surrender to Him.

Self-surrender to God is the innermost, most hidden act of our spirit, momentary like all others, but not achieved in a moment but ripening gradually, for a long or short time, depending on the skill and prudence of the Christian laborer. Its beginning is laid in the first conversion, for there the penitent, making a vow, necessarily says: “I will flee evil and do good; only You, Lord, do not abandon me with Your gracious help.” With this disposition he enters upon the path of ascetic struggle and acts earnestly in it, in expectation of receiving God’s help. But it is evident that here his zeal goes first, while God’s action follows. This is necessary both by the disposition of the beginner and by God’s intention. The beginner wants to labor for the Lord’s sake, to serve Him—and he labors. This forms in him good hope and, as it were, boldness in his regard for God. But it is clear that it should not remain so. It is necessary for the person to follow God’s drawing, extinguishing self-willed zeal. Consequently, a person must not remain in his first disposition but, without weakening that same zeal, must subject himself to God, place himself under His direction, become accustomed to follow His promptings and drawings. This is hinted at cryptically when it is said to Peter: “When you were young, you dressed yourself and walked where you wanted, but when you grow old, another will dress you and lead you where you do not wish to go” (Jn. 21:18). At first the person himself is zealous, but later he says: “You Yourself, Lord, by the judgments You know, arrange my salvation. Like one bound I will go where You command.” This is the act of decisive devotion to God. The first kind of activity is so beautiful and fair—so many fruits! Therefore it can bind one to it forever. But this must be feared, because it will be the same as toiling over ungrateful soil: much sand and stones, and no vitality. One must strive to depart from it and pass into God-surrender. True, it can in some way grow during the time of the first laboring, but one must watch this growth and help it or rather receive what is being formed and nurtured. Actually, even then God is the one acting, for without Him we are nothing, but the person says: “I chose, I wanted, I labored, and God helped.” Both the wanting and the choosing and the labors are also good works and consequently God’s works; but in his preoccupation and efforts, the person thinks that here lies his strength. Therefore, the transition occurring within from zeal to zealous God-surrender is nothing else than the unveiling and revelation to our consciousness of God’s action in us, or in the arrangement of our salvation and cleansing. The zealous one is taught about this through frequent failures despite all effort, unexpected successes and great ones without special exertion, errors and falls, especially instructive ones, as withdrawals of grace. Through all of these a person is brought to the thought and faith that he is nothing, and all is God and His almighty grace. This is the final point of the preparatory course to God-surrender. It is possible only when a person feels that he is nothing. On his side, a person can apply the following: contemplation of deeds and events, as they are arranged, to see God’s power in them; deepening with strong faith in the conditions of justification, to the cry: “By the judgments You know, save me”; vision of the countless multitude of enemies, the concealment of the path, darkness before his face, the countless crossroads, the hiddenness of God’s determinations. These mental preparations gain especial strength from active practice, namely: giving away all one’s possessions, self-surrender to universal mockery (in foolishness for Christ), enclosure, desert living. These are such turning points of life, after which there is nowhere to turn but to God. All such directly cast themselves into God’s hands and are received by Him. In this regard invaluable is the help of a spiritual guide, if he, invisibly to the one being guided, places him in such circumstances from which only invisible divine help can deliver him. The ancient fathers said: one must provide the disciples with crowns. This feeling of one’s nothingness and surrender to God is formed best by continuous sorrows and especially by extraordinary trials and crosses sent by God, which we have mentioned above.

The one who has surrendered himself to God, or received this gift, begins to be acted upon by God and to abide in Him. Freedom is not destroyed but exists, for self-surrender is not a final, fixed act but is repeated constantly. A person casts himself upon God, and God takes him and acts in him, or through his powers. In this lies the true, divine life of our spirit. The one who casts himself into God’s hands receives from God and acts by what he receives. This is a living union, life in God, establishment in Him by one’s whole being: by mind, heart, will. It appears through self-surrender. But as self-surrender grows gradually, precisely during the continuation of the first action, at the same time the reception of God and the abiding in Him must also be elevated. It is so; it elevates itself. But again, on our part something must contribute to it or its more rapid ripening. The domain of communion with God, the region in which it is formed and acts, is noetic spiritual prayer. The one praying abides in God and consequently is very ready and capable for God also to abide in him. But this prayer is not the same as praying; it is a special spiritual action, not so much guided as silently ripening, both for the one being guided and for the guide. In it, one might say, is the final limit of the rules of ascetic practice (see Symeon the New Theologian). For when this prayer is established and confirmed, God is one with our spirit. And the rules touch only its beginning, but what happens in it when perfected is hidden, becomes unseen, as Moses behind the cloud.

Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Whoever has begun to experience these involuntary impulses inward and these raptures toward God, and especially whoever has begun to practice complete self-surrender to God and unceasing prayer, is ready and capable of entering into stillness. Only such a person has the strength to bear this struggle and to practice it with fruit. It is impossible to keep such a one in community life and dwelling with others.

What drove great Arsenius away from people? This drawing inward before God. “I love you,” he said, “but I cannot be with both God and people at the same time.” “The true solitary,” says John of the Ladder, “not wishing to lose the sweetness of God, withdraws from all people without hatred for them, as earnestly as others draw close to them.”

We quote what is necessary for understanding stillness from the 27th discourse of the Ladder:

“There is outer stillness, when someone, having separated himself from all, lives alone; and there is inner stillness, when someone in spirit abides alone with God not under strain, but freely, as freely the chest breathes and the eye sees. They are compatible, but the first cannot be without the second. Therefore, a true solitary is the one who endeavors to hold his bodiless essence, his soul, within the bounds of his bodily house. Let the cell of the solitary contain his body, and let the latter contain within itself the temple of the mind.”

No one will be drawn to stillness who has not yet tasted the sweetness of God; and he will not taste this sweetness who has not yet overcome the passions. One suffering from soul-sickness of the passions and attempting stillness is like one who jumped from a ship into the abyss and thinks he will safely reach the shore on a board.

Let no one subjected to irritability and pride, hypocrisy and rancor, ever dare to see even a trace of stillness, lest he fall into madness of mind.

The one who has tasted the sweetness of God strives toward stillness to be insatiably satisfied by it, without any hindrances, and to continually give birth in himself to fire by fire, zeal by zeal, and longing by longing. Therefore “the solitary is an earthly image of an angel; on the parchment of longing, by the writing of effort, he has freed his prayer from idleness and negligence…. The solitary is the one who cries out in the movement of the Spirit: ‘My heart is ready, O God!’ (Ps. 56:8). The solitary is the one who says: ‘I sleep, but my heart keeps watch’ (Song 5:2).

Thus the entire occupation of the solitary is to be with the only Lord, with whom he converses face to face, as the king’s favorites speak to him in his ear. This core work is protected and guarded by another—the preservation of peaceful thoughts. Good order of thoughts and an undeceived mind about the Divine constitute the essence of stillness, and moreover, freedom from care. Sitting on high, keep watch, if only you know how to do this, and then you will see when and how, from whence, how many and what thieves wish to enter and steal the grapes of the vineyard. When this watchman grows weary, he rises and prays, and then sits down again and takes up the first work with new courage.

Those who have loved blessed stillness practice the works of the angelic powers and imitate the manner of their life. They will never be satisfied throughout the ages in praising the Creator; so too the one who has ascended to the heaven of stillness will never be satisfied in singing the praise of the Creator.

But neither unceasing prayer nor guarding of an undeceived heart can be possessed if perfect freedom from care has not first been established in the heart. One cannot wisely practice the first two if he has not acquired the last, just as one cannot read without learning the letters. “A small hair disturbs the eye and a small concern destroys stillness.” Whoever wishes to present to God a pure mind and disturbs himself with cares is like one who has bound his feet tightly and tries to walk quickly. Therefore true stillness begins after self-surrender to God and deep conviction of the heart in His care for us.

Only those who have joined themselves to stillness for enjoyment of God’s love, for the quenching of this thirst for love, being drawn by its sweetness, are true solitaries. Such ones, if they practice stillness with understanding, soon begin to taste its fruits, which are: an untroubled mind, purified thought, rapture toward the Lord, unceasing prayer, undeceived watchfulness, continual tears, and so forth.

Thus what draws one to stillness is the drawing inward to the sweet standing before God; the path to it is laid by cleansing from passions through all the struggles by which good is strengthened in us and evil is exhausted; its immediate threshold is self-surrender to God in freedom from care; its essence is the undisturbed prayerful standing before God in mind within the heart, from which fire is added to fire.

The burning of the spirit from God’s touch finally cleanses a person and raises him to the state of dispassion. In this fire our nature is remelted, like impure metal in a furnace, and appears shining with heavenly purity, making it ready to be God’s dwelling.

Thus, on the path to living communion with God, stands the necessary stillness, if not always as a particular form of ascetic life, then always as a state in which the spirit, gathered and deepened inward, is raised by the fire of the Divine Spirit to seraphic purity and blazing toward God and in God.

This fire is implanted in moments of conversion and begins to act as soon as, by the vow, a person enters upon labor, but this is initial warmth, appearing now, now disappearing. It acts throughout the duration of labor over heart-purification; otherwise a person could not endure these labors. But it cannot show all its strength at that time because of the cold of the passions still operative in a person. It shows all its strength only when the passions fall silent. The first warmth is like the burning of wood that is wet and soaked, while the second is like the burning of the same wood when fire has dried it and penetrated its entire substance. By another comparison, the first warmth is like that in water containing an ice floe that has not yet melted: there is warmth, but the water does not and will not boil while the ice remains unmelted. But when the ice melts, warmth, penetrating the entire mass of water, heats it ever more and more; from this the water seethes and purifies itself. This is what the second warmth is like. The latter two forms of the fire’s action depict the actions of spiritual burning in the final degrees of Christian perfection, raising one to perfect purity and dispassion.

“The substance of the passions, being consumed by divine fire, is destroyed, and as the substance is uprooted and the soul is purified, the passions likewise depart.”

Here is the meaning of dispassion, according to the Ladder in discourse 29:

“Dispassion is the resurrection of the soul before the resurrection of the body.”

The resurrection of the soul must be called the coming forth from old age, namely when the new person is born, in which there is nothing of the old person, according to the saying: “And I will give you a new heart and a new spirit” (Ezek. 36:26) (see Isaac the Syrian).

This complete and ever-growing perfection of those accomplished in the Lord so sanctifies the mind and carries it away from matter that often from bodily life it is lifted up in rapture to heaven to see.

The Apostle demonstrated dispassion by writing: “we have the mind” of the Lord (1 Cor. 2:16). A Syrian ascetic also demonstrated dispassion, who cried out: “Ease for me the waves of Your grace!” (holy Ephrem).

The dispassionate one, toward all objects that arouse and nourish the passions, has become insensitive so that they produce no effect on him, though they stand before his eyes. This is because he is wholly united with God. He comes into a place of sexual immorality—and not only does he not feel the stirrings of passion, but he also brings the prostitute to pure and ascetic life.

Whoever has been found worthy of this state becomes, even here, clothed in perishable flesh, a temple of the living God, who guides and instructs him in all words, deeds, and thoughts; and he, because of inner illumination, knows the will of the Lord as if hearing a certain voice, and, being above all human teaching, says: “When I come and appear before God’s face” (Ps. 41:3), for I can no longer bear the movements of his appetite, but seek that immortal goodness which You gave me before I fell into decay. But why speak at length! The dispassionate one “no longer” lives for himself, “but” “Christ lives” in him (Gal. 2:20), as the one who has “fought the good fight,” “finished the course,” and “kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:7).

Dispassion is the heavenly palace of the Heavenly King. And so, at last, communion with God and God’s indwelling—the final goal of the seeking of the human spirit, when he is in God, and God is in him. At last is fulfilled the good pleasure of the Lord and His prayer that, as He is in the Father and the Father is in Him, so every believer may be one with Him (see Jn. 17:21). His comforting assurance is fulfilled: whoever keeps His word, His Father will love, and They will come to him and make their dwelling with him (see Jn. 14:23). The apostolic definition is fulfilled concerning those made dead by dispassion, that their life is hidden with Christ in God (see Col. 3:3). Such are the temple of God (see 1 Cor. 3:16), and God’s Spirit dwells in them (see Rom. 8:9).

Those who have achieved this are keepers of God’s mysteries, and their state is the same as that of the Apostles, for they too know God’s will in all things, hearing as it were a certain voice, and they, having completely united their senses with God, are secretly taught by Him His words. Such a state is marked by the flame of love, whereby they boldly affirm with confidence: “Who will separate us?” (Rom. 8:35). And love is the giver of prophecy, the cause of miracles, the abyss of illumination, the source of divine fire, which the more it flows, the more it inflames the one who thirsts.

Since such a state is the fruit of stillness, when practiced with understanding, not all solitaries are left by God in stillness forever. Those who attain dispassion through stillness and through this become worthy of the most sincere communion with God and His indwelling are brought forth from there to serve those who seek salvation, and they serve them, illuminating, guiding, and performing miracles. And great Anthony, like John in the desert, received a voice in his stillness that sent him forth to labor in guiding others on the path of salvation—and all know the fruits of his labors. The same happened with many others.

We know of no state higher than this apostolic state on earth. Here—and the survey of the order of a life pleasing to God comes to an end.

Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

To bear children is an act of nature, but to form and educate them in virtue is the work of wisdom and will.

By the duty to educate one’s children, I do not mean only providing so they do not starve—a responsibility that many seem to limit themselves to with respect to their children. This requires neither books nor laws: nature speaks loudly enough about this. I speak of the care to form the hearts of children in virtue and piety—a sacred duty that cannot be transgressed without guilt of a kind of child murder.

This obligation is common to both fathers and mothers alike. There are fathers who spare nothing to provide their children with teachers in pleasures and indulge their whims as if they were wealthy heirs, but whether their children become Christians, whether they exercise themselves in piety—this troubles them little. Criminal blindness! To this very gross negligence must be attributed all the disorders from which society groans. Suppose you have acquired great wealth for them, but if they do not know how to conduct themselves prudently, it will not remain with them long. The wealth will be squandered; it will perish with its owners; it will be the saddest inheritance for them.

Your children will always be sufficiently wealthy if they receive from you a good upbringing, capable of ordering their morals and establishing their conduct well. Therefore, be concerned not with making them rich, but with making them pious, masters of their passions, rich in virtues. Accustom them not to invent imaginary needs and to value the goods of this world at what they are worth. Observe their actions, their associations, their connections attentively—and do not expect any mercy from God if you do not fulfill this duty.

If the Apostle commands us to care more for others than for ourselves, and if we are guilty when we do not attend to their benefit, then is it not far more so when it concerns those who are so near to us? Will not the Lord say, “Did I not give these children a place in your family? Did I not entrust them to your care, making you their masters, guardians, judges? I gave you full authority over them; I placed upon you all the cares of their upbringing. You will tell me they did not wish to bend their neck under the yoke, that they cast it off. But this is precisely what you should have prevented from the very beginning; you should have seized their first impressions, placed a bridle when they had not yet the strength to break it; bent this young soul under the yoke of duty, accustomed it to it by forming it according to it, bound the wound when it was only beginning to form; uprooted the thorn when it was only beginning to appear around this tender plant—not waited until it struck deep roots, until the passions, growing stronger with gradual development, became unbridled and ungovernable.”

The Wise Man says, “If you have children, discipline them and bend their neck from youth” (Sir. 7:25). But the Lord not only impresses this commandment upon us through His prophet, but also takes our side, ensuring its fulfillment by threatening terrible punishment to children disobedient to their parents: “Whoever speaks evil of father or mother shall surely die” (Lev. 20:9). He punishes with death those who become guilty against you, yet you look on coldly at the transgressions they commit against the very highest authority. They rise up against God Himself by breaking His commandments, yet you look on without indignation, without the least rebuke to the children. What does He lose from their insults? Nothing. But you—what should you not fear for yourselves? Because whoever abandons the Lord will cease to respect neither his father nor himself.

Children obedient and faithful to God, in their obedience to His law, would find an abundant source of happiness, even temporal happiness. The poor man with Christian morals compels respect and love, whereas with an evil and corrupt heart all your wealth will not save you from the disapprobation and aversion of all around you.

A youth whom you give a good upbringing not only acquires universal respect—how much more he becomes dearer to you! Your attachment to him will not be merely a natural inclination; it will be the fruit of his virtue. In return, in your old age you will receive from him all the services of filial love; he will be your support. For as those who do not honor the Lord despise their parents, so conversely, those who honor God, the Father of all men, will always respect in every way those from whom they received life.

Suppose you fulfill the commandments of the law in all other respects, but being unfaithful to this one commandment, you will be severely punished. Listen to a proof taken from the history of an ancient people. You will then see what terrible punishment those parents bring upon themselves who neglect the education of their children. Among the Jews there was a priest honored for the gentleness of his character; he was called Eli. This priest had two sons who gave themselves over to all vices. The father did not concern himself with this and scarcely paid attention to it; or if their depravity, reaching the highest degree, compelled him to rebuke them, he did so without the proper zeal and authority. He should have strictly punished them, driven them from his sight, employed severe measures to put an end to their disorder. Nothing of the sort happened; he contented himself with saying to them by way of exhortation, “No, my sons, this is not good report which I hear” (1 Sam. 2:24). Was this what should have been said? They were offending God, and he called them his children? They were forgetting the One to whom they owed their existence, yet he still acknowledged them as his family? In vain and uselessly did he make exhortations to them. No, here were required not exhortations, but strong lessons, strict chastisement, medicine as powerful as the disease. He should have acted with fear and torn this young heart from its torpor. Exhortations! Eli’s children had no lack of these. Useless words! Criminal gentleness of which they became victims! War begins, the wretches become plunder of the enemy; the father, learning of their misfortune, falls to the ground and, breaking his head, dies.

I have just told you that fathers who do not care to give Christian education to their children are child-murderers, murderers of their own children. Is it not so? Who should Eli blame for the death of his children? Only himself. True, the sword of the enemy killed them, but the negligence of the false father directed its stroke; abandoned by heavenly help, they appeared naked against the arrows of the Philistines. The father destroyed both himself and them. Meanwhile, we see the very same thing daily before us. How many parents there are who do not wish to take the trouble to correct their disobedient and corrupt children! They seem to fear that they will grieve the children if they restrain their vicious inclinations with a stern word. What happens then? Disorder increases; impunity leads to crimes against the state; courts awake; the wretches die at the place of execution. By not correcting them you become their accomplices. You have renounced your personal authority over them and subjected them to the severity of public punishment; and thus human justice has exercised its strict prerogatives over them. You fear to humble them with light punishment in your presence, but what terrible dishonor falls upon you when your son is no more and the father, pursued everywhere by the eyes of accusers, does not dare to show himself anywhere!

Therefore I beseech you, care for the good upbringing of your children. Above all, think of the salvation of their souls. God has set you as heads and teachers of your entire family; your duty is to observe, and to observe constantly, the conduct of your wife and your children. Listen to holy Paul. If your wives, he says, wish to learn anything, let them ask their husbands. “Raise your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” (1 Cor. 14:35; Eph. 6:4). Imitate Job, who constantly watched over his children and offered propitiatory sacrifices for the secret transgressions they might have committed (see: Job 1:5). Imitate Abraham, who cared less for acquiring wealth than for preserving God’s law in all his household, and of whom the Lord testified: “I have known him, because he will command his children…and they will keep the way of the Lord to do justice and judgment” (Gen. 18:19). David, drawing near to death, wishes to leave Solomon the most lasting inheritance; he calls him to him to repeat these wise instructions: “If your children keep their ways, to walk before me in truth with all their heart and all their soul, you will not lack a man on the throne of Israel” (1 King 2:4). These are the models we must imitate both during life and at our last breath!

If good fathers were to strive to give their children good upbringing, there would be need neither for laws, nor courts, nor judges, nor punishments. Executioners exist because there is no morality.

We spare no effort or expense to teach our children secular sciences, to teach them to serve earthly authorities well. It is all the same to us—the knowledge of holy faith, service to the Heavenly King. We allow them to attend spectacles, but whether they do not flee the church, whether they do not stand in it irreverently—we care little about that. We make them give an account of what they learned in their secular schools; why, then, do we not require an account from them of what they heard in the House of the Lord?

Having exhorted the children as was necessary, the Apostle turns also to the fathers, saying: “Fathers, do not provoke your children, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4). Do you wish your son to be obedient? From childhood raise him in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. Do not think that listening to the Divine Scriptures is superfluous for him. There he will hear first of all: “Honor your father and mother” (Mk. 7:10)—words directed to your benefit. Do not say, “This listening to Scripture is the business of monks; must I make him a monk?” There is no need for him to be a monk. Make him a Christian. For laypeople too have great need to heed the teaching contained in Scripture, and especially children, since at this age they still know much. But, not knowing divine truths, they know something from pagan writings, studying in them the lives of marvelous heroes, by their understanding, who served their passions and feared death. What example is Achilles, inconsolable and dying for his concubine, or another, given to drunkenness, and so on and so on! Therefore your son needs this saving guidance—in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.

Is it not foolish to teach children arts, to send them to school, to spare nothing for such education, and to neglect raising them in the discipline and instruction of the Lord? That is precisely why we ourselves reap the fruits of such upbringing of our children, seeing them bold, intemperate, disobedient, corrupt! Let us not act thus and listen to the exhortation of blessed Paul; let us raise our children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, set before them an example of piety, make them exercise themselves from early childhood in reading Sacred Scripture. Ah! I speak of this constantly; but I fear I speak these words in vain. Yet for all that I will not cease to speak about this; it is my duty.

Why, you ask me, do we not imitate the ancients? Especially you, women, should rival the remarkable ancient women. If a child is born to you, imitate Anne, the mother of Samuel. Listen to how she acted: she did not delay in presenting her child to the temple of God. Who among you would not wish to have her son be Samuel once and for all, rather than a king of the whole universe a thousand times? You will say: how can this be? Why should it be impossible? You need only wish it and entrust him to the One Who can make him such. Who, you ask, can do this? God. Therefore she (Anne) entrusted her son to Him. Eli himself was not very capable of developing and educating him; and how could he do so when he was not equal to managing his own children? But the woman’s faith and zeal accomplished everything. Having borne her firstborn, one child, and not yet knowing whether she would have other children, she did not say, “I will wait until the child grows; let him enjoy life; I will let him spend his childhood years with me.” Not thinking of this at all, she thought only of how to consecrate him to God as quickly as possible. Let us men be ashamed of such wisdom in the woman; she presented her son to the temple of God and left him there. This glorified her marriage as well, because, having brought the first fruit of this union as a gift to God, she thereby showed that in this union she sought not sensual pleasures but the pleasing of God; therefore her womb became fruitful, and she, once barren, later had other children; and for this, certainly, she saw what glory and honor her son enjoyed from men.

Everything for us must be secondary in comparison with care for children and raising them in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. Whoever first learns to be wise gains through this wealth surpassing all wealth and the greatest glory. It is not so beneficial to educate your son by teaching him sciences and external knowledge by which he will acquire money. If you wish to make him wealthy, proceed thus. The wealthy one is not he who cares for great acquisition of property and possesses much, but he who lacks nothing. Teach your son this, instruct him in this; this is the greatest wealth. Do not concern yourself with making him known by external learning and bringing him glory, but strive to teach him to despise the glory of this present life; through this he will be more glorious and renowned. This is possible for both the rich and the poor. This is not learned from secular teachers and not by means of sciences, but from the Divine Scriptures. Do not concern yourself that your son live here long, but that he be deemed worthy there of endless and unending life; give him what is great, not what is small. Heed the words of the Apostle Paul: “raise your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4). Do not strive to make him an orator, but teach him wisdom. If he is not an orator, no harm will come of it, but without wisdom the most abundant oratory will bring no benefit. Good conduct is needed, not cleverness; morality, not force of speech; deeds, not words: this provides the Kingdom, this bestows real goods. Do not sharpen the tongue, but purify the soul. I say this not to forbid secular education, but so that you do not cling to it exclusively.

Do not think that only monks need instruction in Scripture; many of these instructions are also needed for those children who must enter worldly life. Just as when equipping a ship there must be a pilot and a full crew not for one who always stands on the shore, but for one who is constantly engaged in navigation, so it is with both the monk and the worldly person. The former, as if standing on an undisturbed shore, passes through life unconcerned and removed from all turmoil, while the latter is constantly tossed about and sails amid the sea, struggling with many waves. Even if he himself (the worldly person) might not have need, yet he might need it so that, if it happens, he might be able to silence others.

The greater the honor one enjoys in this present life, the more such an education is needed for him. Does anyone serve in the royal court? There are many heathen philosophers there, people swollen with temporal glory. Everyone is arrogant and haughty, and those who are not strive to become so. Well then, imagine, if your son, having entered there, approaches like the best physician with an instrument capable of subduing the arrogance of each one, approaches each and speaks, heals the sick body, applies a plaster from Scripture, offers wise proofs.

A monk—with whom will he speak? With his cell wall or with the roof? With the wilderness or the thickets? With mountains or trees? Therefore, such teaching is not as necessary for him; nevertheless he strives to perfect himself in it, not to instruct others but himself. As for people living in this (worldly) life, such teaching is greatly needed for them, because the worldly person is presented with more temptations to sin than the monk. And if you will, know that he with such an education will at the same time be the most pleasant person; all will respect him when they see that he is not hot-tempered and does not strive for power. Knowing this, raise your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. And if someone is poor? Let him remain poor. If he does not stand at court, he is no worse off for that than he who serves at court; rather, he may become an object of wonder. For if heathen—people worth barely three coins, cynics who adopted such a philosophy worth barely three coins (truly, such is Greek philosophy), or rather, not the philosophy itself but only its name, clothed in a mantle and with long hair, put to shame many, is not the true wise man capable of even more? If even a false semblance, merely a shadow of philosophy, so elevates, what shall we say if we truly embrace true radiant wisdom? Will not all respect him? Will they not entrust houses, wives, and children to such wise men without any fear?

Tell me, which are the best plants? Are they not those which contain strength in themselves and suffer no harm from rain, hail, wind gusts, or other such causes, but standing openly and having need of neither roof nor enclosure, as it were despise all? Such is the true wise man, such is his wealth. He has nothing and possesses all; he possesses all and has nothing. For the wall is not inside but outside, and the enclosure is not from nature but built from without. Tell me also, which body is especially strong? That which is healthy, easily bears hunger, requires no excess, does not suffer from cold nor from heat? Or that which is unable to bear all this and, furthermore, for its health needs cooks, weavers, hunters, and physicians? Truly, only the true wise man, who needs nothing like this, is the true rich man. That is why blessed Paul said: “Raise your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4). Therefore, do not seek protection for your children in external goods, but raise them according to the apostle’s instruction; in this consists wealth, in this consists glory.

Wealth does great harm when it makes us incapable of bearing life’s reversals. Therefore, raise your children so they can endure all things and know how to act amid misfortunes; bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, and great reward will be given to us. Indeed, if people who depict kings, who paint their portraits, enjoy great honor, shall we not enjoy far greater goods for adorning the image of the Heavenly King (for man is the image of God) when we restore the divine likeness? Virtue of the soul can be compared with this—when we teach children to be good, mild, unmindful of injuries, ready to do good, merciful (which are all properties of God) and when we instruct them not to value earthly goods. Therefore, to form and order ourselves and them—this is our duty! Otherwise how will we dare to stand before the Throne of the Lord? If one whose children are unbridled is unworthy of a bishopric, how much more unworthy is he of the Kingdom of Heaven. Shall we answer for our children if they are disorderly? Yes—if it happens because we did not employ on our part the strict measures that should have been employed.

Neglect of children is the greatest of all sins and in it the extreme degree of impiety. And that I draw this conclusion not without foundation, I will prove it by experience itself, so you may know that although all concerning us were arranged beautifully, yet we would undergo extreme punishment if we neglect the salvation of children. You know the story of the high priest Eli contained in Divine Scripture. If a priest, aged, renowned, who has ruled the Hebrew people blamelessly for twenty years, who lived in times not requiring great strictness in life—nothing could excuse him; rather, he perished terribly and miserably because he did not care for his children with full diligence, and the guilt of this slight care, as a great and powerful fault, exceeded all these advantages and covered all the good deeds of Eli—what condemnation will fall upon us who live in times requiring far greater wisdom, but do not possess even his virtue, and not only do not instruct our children ourselves but also plot against those wishing to do so and arm ourselves against them, and treat our children more harshly than any barbarism? For the cruelty of barbarians only leads to slavery, to devastation and captivity of the homeland and generally to physical evils, but you enslave the very soul and, binding it like a captive, hand it over to evil and fierce demons and their passions. This is precisely what you do, nothing other, when you neither instill anything spiritual in your children nor allow others to do so.

And let no one tell me that many, even more neglectful of their children than Eli, did not suffer anything like Eli; no, many have suffered it, and many more than he, and precisely for this very sin. For where do premature deaths come from? Where do heavy and prolonged illnesses come from for us and our children? Where do losses, misfortunes, sorrows, an countless multitude of evils? Is it not because we do not strive to correct our vicious children? And to be certain that this is not mere conjecture, the sufferings of this old man (Eli) would be sufficient, but I will tell you another word from one of our wise men. Speaking of children, he says thus: “Do not rejoice in ungodly children…if the fear of the Lord is not with them, do not trust their life” (Sir. 16:1–2). For you will weep with untimely tears and, expecting nothing, learn of their destruction. Therefore, many, as I said, have suffered much of this sort; if some have escaped punishment, they will not escape forever; if they escaped here, it is to the ruin of their own head, for they will bear the most severe punishment after departing hence.

Let us not act foolishly because God does not now send a prophet and does not warn of punishment as he did with Eli: now is not the time of prophets, but still He sends them now. How do we know this? “They have Moses and the prophets”, it is said (Lk. 16:29). What was said to those (among whom Moses and the prophets lived) is said also to us, and God speaks not to Eli alone but through him and his sufferings to all who sin like him. God shows no partiality, and if He destroyed one less guilty with his whole house, He will not leave unpunished those who have committed graver crimes.

God Himself has great care for the education of children. For this reason He implanted in nature such an inclination (of parents to children) to place parents in, as it were, inevitable necessity to care for them. And later, speaking to us, He set laws concerning care for them, and instituting festivals, commanded to explain their institutions. Thus, speaking of Passover, He added the instruction: “You shall tell your son on that day, saying, It is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt”. He does the same in the Law. For, speaking of the firstborn, He again adds: “When your son asks you in time to come, saying, What is this? You shall say to him, By strength of hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; for when Pharaoh stubbornly refused to let us go, the Lord killed all the firstborn…therefore I sacrifice to the Lord all males that first open the womb” (Ex. 13:8, 14–15). Through all this He commands to lead children to the knowledge of God. And to the children themselves He commands much concerning their parents, rewarding the obedient and punishing the ungrateful and thus making them more precious to their parents. Indeed, when someone makes us lords over someone, by this honor he imposes on us the strongest obligation to care for them, so that this alone, without anything else, is able to convince us that the entire fate of that person is in our hands, and we will not soon be resolved to harm one entrusted to us thus. When he then becomes angry and indignant more than the offended ones themselves, and appears a stern avenger, he thereby further impels us to fulfill our duty. Thus God has acted. To these two He has added a third obligation, a natural one, or if you will, the first. Namely, in order that parents, receiving the command to educate children, would not neglect His commandments, God bound them by natural necessity. And in order that this bond, being violated by children, not be broken entirely, He protected it with punishments both from Himself and from the parents themselves, thus subjecting children to parents and awakening love for children in parents. However, it is not only in this way but in yet a fourth way that God has tightly bound us to them. He not only punishes evil children in relation to parents and rewards good ones, but does the same with parents, severely punishing those who neglect children and honoring those who are careful with honors and praise. Thus He punished this old man (Eli), worthy of praise in all other respects, for one thing—his neglect of children, while He rewarded the patriarch Abraham for his care no less than for his other virtues. For, speaking of the many and great gifts He promised to give him, God presents as the reason for such a promise this virtue: “I know that he will command his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing righteousness and justice” (Gen. 18:19).

This I have said now so you may know that God will not be indulgent to those who neglect those about whom He Himself cares so much. For it is impossible that the same God should both do so much Himself for the salvation of these children and disregard it when parents neglect them. So He will not disregard this; rather, He will be even more indignant and wrathful, as has indeed happened. Therefore blessed Paul urgently exhorts, saying: “Fathers, bring up your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” If we are obliged to care sleeplessly for souls, giving account for them (Heb. 13:17); how much more is a father, who has fathered a son, raised him, and constantly lives with him! For as he cannot find excuse and justification in his own sins, so also not in the deeds of his children. And blessed Paul also showed this. When prescribing what those who hold authority over others should be like, he, beyond all necessary qualities for them, requires of them also care for their children, so that we have no excuse when our children are corrupt (see: 1 Tim. 3:4–5). And this is completely just! If evil in people were from nature, then everyone could rightly resort to excuse, but since we are corrupt or honest by our own will, what plausible justification can he offer who has allowed his son, loved more than all, to fall into corruption and impiety? Is it that he did not wish to make him honest? But no father will say this; nature itself impels him urgently and continuously to that. Or that he could not? But this too cannot be said, for everything—both that he took his son under his care in tender age, and that he alone was given authority over him, and that he constantly had him with him—all this makes the education of his son very easy and convenient for him. Therefore the corruption of children comes from nothing other than the insane attachment of fathers to worldly things; turning attention only to this and considering nothing higher than this, they willy-nilly neglect their children and their souls. Of such fathers I will say (and let no one consider these words born of anger) that they are worse even than child-murderers. These separate body from soul, but those cast both together into the fire of Gehenna. The body is subjected to death necessarily and by natural order, but death could be avoided if the carelessness of fathers had not led to it. Furthermore, bodily death can be ended by resurrection when it comes, but the loss of the soul nothing can ever repay; after it follows not salvation but the necessity to suffer eternally. Therefore we would not unjustly call such fathers worse than child-murderers. It is not so cruel to sharpen a sword and, taking it in your right hand, plunge it into the heart of your child, as to ruin and corrupt the soul, because nothing equals it.

If evil were only limited to parents not giving children any useful advice, the evil would not be so great. But you, parents, incite them to the opposite. Indeed, when fathers urge their children to pursue sciences, in their conversation with them you will hear nothing other than such words: “Such-and-such a man, low and from a low station, perfecting himself in eloquence, received a very high position, acquired very great wealth, took a rich wife, built a magnificent house, became terrible and famous to all.” Another says: “Such-and-such a one learned Latin, shines at court and governs everything there.” Still another points to another, and all to those glorified on earth, but of those glorified in heaven no one will remember even once, and even if someone ventures to remind of them, he is pursued as a man who upsets everything. Therefore, when you instill this in children from their youth, you teach them nothing other than the foundation of all vices, instilling in them two of the most violent passions—that is, avarice and an even more vicious passion—vanity. Each of them separately can overturn all, but when both together burst into the tender soul of a youth, then, like joined torrential streams, they destroy all good and bring so much thorns, so much sand, so much rubbish that they make the soul barren and incapable of anything good. How then do you think your son can easily avoid the devil’s snares, being young, living amid Egypt, or rather amid the devil’s host, hearing no helpful advice from anyone and seeing that all, and especially parents and teachers, lead him to the opposite? How could he do this? Through your exhortations? But you instill the opposite in him and, not allowing him to remember wisdom even in a dream, but constantly occupying him with this present life and its advantages, only further contribute to his drowning. Or by himself? Not at all—a youth does not have sufficient strength in himself to perform virtue, and if he produces anything good, that good will quickly, before it grows, perish from the strong rain of your words. For as the body cannot live long when fed not healthy but harmful food, so the soul, receiving such instillation, cannot even think of anything good and great; no, being troubled and weakened, as by some contagion, it finally inevitably sinks into Gehenna and its destruction there.

See, you, as if deliberately striving to destroy your children, command them to do only what makes salvation impossible. Look first. “Woe to those who laugh”, it is said, yet you provide your children with countless reasons for laughter. “Woe to the rich”, yet you only strive for them to become rich. “Woe to you when all people speak well of you” (Lk. 6:24–26), yet you often squander all your wealth for human glory. Again, “whoever insults his brother is liable to hell” (Mt. 5:22), yet you consider weak and cowardly those who silently endure insulting words from others. Christ commands to turn away from strife and quarrel, yet you constantly occupy your children with these evil deeds. He commanded in many cases to tear out the eye if it leads to evil (see: Mt. 5:29), yet you especially make friends of those who can only give you money, even if they teach the utmost depravity. He did not allow divorcing a wife except for adultery (see: Mt. 5:32), yet you, when money can be obtained, command to disregard even this commandment. He forbade swearing completely (see: Mt. 5:34), yet you even laugh when you see this prohibition observed. “Whoever loves his life”, said the Lord, “will lose it” (Jn. 12:25), yet you draw them into this love in every way. “If you do not forgive people their trespasses, your Father will not forgive your trespasses” (see: Mt. 6:15), yet you even reproach your children when they do not wish to take revenge on those who offended them, and strive to lead them quickly to do so. Christ said that those who love glory—whether they fast, pray, or give alms—all do it without benefit (see: Mt. 6:1), yet you only strive for your children to receive it. Why enumerate all? If the vices already mentioned, not only all together but each by itself, is capable of preparing a thousand hells, and you, gathering them all together and laying on your children this unbearably heavy burden of sins, send them with it into the river of fire, how can they be saved carrying so much food for the fire?

And it is not only bad that you instill in your children what contradicts Christ’s commandments, but also that you cover impiety with pleasant-sounding names, calling constant presence at horse races and theaters worldliness, possession of wealth freedom, audacity frankness, extravagance charity, injustice bravery. Then, as if this deception were not enough, you call virtue by opposite names: modesty ignorance, meekness cowardice, justice weakness, humility servility, gentleness powerlessness. You seem to fear lest your children, hearing from others the true name of these virtues and vices, flee the infection. For calling vices by their straight and true names greatly contributes to turning away from them. I know many who were corrected this way and, hearing shameful names applied to themselves, became more modest in life. But you have taken away from your children even this help to correction. And what is worse, you instill evil not only in words but in deeds: you build magnificent houses, buy expensive fields, surround them with other splendor, and with all this, as with a foul cloud, darken their souls. So with what can I convince myself that it is possible for them to be saved when I see that you incline them to such deeds for which Christ has determined inevitable destruction; when I see that you neglect their souls, as if it were something unnecessary, while you care for what is truly superfluous as if necessary and most important. You do everything so that your son has a servant, a horse, and the finest clothing, but that he himself be good—you do not even wish to think of it; no, extending care to such a degree about wood and stones, you do not bestow on the soul even the least part of such care. You do everything only so a wonderful statue stands on your house and the roof is golden, but that the most precious sculpture—the soul—be golden, you do not even wish to think of.

Next, wishing to acquaint our children with sciences, we not only remove obstacles to learning, but also provide them with all that promotes it: we place attendants and teachers with them, spend money, free them from all other occupations, and, more often than teachers at Olympic games, shout at them about poverty from ignorance and wealth from learning—we do and say everything, both ourselves and through others, only to bring them to the end of the learning before them; yet for all that we often do not succeed. But modesty of character and carefulness of honorable conduct, by our reasoning, will come of themselves despite so many obstacles to that? What can be worse than this lack of wisdom—to pay so much attention and care to the easiest thing, as if it could not be achieved otherwise, and to think of something far more difficult that it, like some empty and trivial thing, will come to us even if we sleep? Indeed, exercising the soul in a pious life is so much harder and more difficult than studying sciences as performing is more difficult than speaking, as deeds are harder than words.

But for what reason, you might ask, do our children need wisdom and strict conduct? This very thing has destroyed everything—that a task so necessary and serving as the foundation of our life is considered superfluous and unnecessary. If someone saw his son ill in body, no one would say, “What need does he have for perfect and robust health?” Rather, he would strive in every way to bring the body to such a state that illness would no longer return. But when children’s souls are sick, they say no medical treatment is needed—and after such words they dare to call themselves fathers! So what, you might ask, shall we all become wise and worldly things perish? No, my honored ones, it is not wisdom but deviation from it that has destroyed and disrupted everything. For tell me, who disrupts the present state of affairs—those who live with restraint and modesty, or those who invent new and lawless ways of pleasure? Those who strive to take all that belongs to others, or those who are satisfied with their own? Those who are merciful and meek and do not seek honor among the people, or those who demand honor from their brothers more than any obligation and cause a thousand troubles to one who will not stand before them, will not give the first greeting, will not bow, will not show obsequiousness? Those who love to obey, or those who seek authority and command and are ready to do and endure everything for it? Those who consider themselves better than all and therefore think they can say and do everything, or those who consider themselves last and thereby restrain in themselves the mad willfulness of passions? Those who recognize the weakness of the human race, or those who do not wish to learn this but from excessive pride have ceased to consider themselves even human? Those who keep harlots and defile others’ beds, or those who abstain even from their own wife? Are the former not as tumors on the body and turbulent winds in the sea, and do they not by their intemperance drown those who could have saved themselves by themselves? And do the latter not shine like bright lights amid deep darkness, calling those in distress at sea to their safety and, kindling a lamp of wisdom from afar on high, do they not guide in this way all who wish to a calm harbor? Are not disturbances and wars, battles, destruction of cities, captivity and slavery, loss of freedom, murders, and countless misfortunes in life—misfortunes not only inflicted on men by men but also all sent from heaven, such as droughts and floods, earthquakes, submersion of cities, famines, plagues, and all else sent thence—all caused by those? Yes, they overturn public order and destroy the common good; they cause countless misfortunes to others, they who disturb people seeking peace, draw them and tear them apart on all sides. For them exist courts and laws, prosecutions, and various types of punishment.

If we wished to educate our children from the youngest age and hand them over to those wishing to raise them, they could certainly become in the first rank of the army, for God would not despise such diligence and zeal, but would extend His hand and lay it on the sculpture. And when His hand acts, then it is impossible not to have success in deeds, or rather, it is impossible not to reach the highest degree of brilliance and glory, if only what depends on us is fulfilled. If even women could turn God’s heart to help in the education of children, how much more could we do this if we wished. So as not to extend the discourse too far, I will pass in silence over other women, although I could point to many, and will mention only one. There was a Jewess—Anne. This Anne bore one son and no longer hoped to have another because she had barely obtained even this one after many tears due to her barrenness. Although her rival often insulted her for this barrenness, she did not act as you act, but even having obtained that son, held him only as long as he needed to be nourished with her milk. And as soon as he no longer needed this food, she, taking him, immediately consecrated him to God and did not ask that he return to his father’s house, but left him to live constantly in the temple of God. And if ever, by maternal feeling, she wished to see him, she did not call the boy to her, but came to him herself with the father and already treated him carefully, as a gift offered in sacrifice to God. And therefore the young man became so valiant and great that when God turned away from the Jewish people for their extreme impiety, did not utter prophecies and did not reveal visions, he by his virtue again drew God and entreated Him to grant the Jews what they had before and to renew the ceased prophecies. And he did this not in mature age but still a small boy. “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; there was no frequent vision” (1 Sam. 3:1), yet God often revealed His will to him (Samuel). Thus it is beneficial always to entrust one’s possessions to God and to renounce not only money and things but even our children themselves. For if this is commanded us to do with respect to our own soul (see: Mt. 10:37), how much more with respect to all else. The patriarch Abraham did this, or rather much more than this, and therefore received his son with greater glory. And truly, we then especially have our children with us when we give them to the Lord. For He will preserve them far better than we, for He cares more for them. Do you not see that this happens even in the houses of the rich? There the lower servants living with their fathers are not so respected and do not have such power, but those whom the masters, taking from their parents, appoint to their service and make keepers of treasures, enjoy greater favor and freedom. If men are so kind and benevolent to their servants, how much more the unlimited Goodness, that is, God.

Let us allow our children to serve God, leading them not only into a temple like Samuel, but into heaven itself to serve with Angels and Archangels. For it is clear to everyone that those who have devoted themselves to this chastity will truly serve with them (the Angels). Besides, such children will intercede with great boldness not only for themselves but also for us. For if some children received help from God for their fathers’ sake, how much more can fathers receive help for their children’s sake; because in the first case the right to help is only the unity of nature, but in the latter case it is education as well, which is far more important than nature. I will prove both to you from Divine Scripture. Thus Hezekiah, a king virtuous and pious, but who did not have confidence by his own deeds to stand against the great danger threatening him, God saved for his father’s virtue, as He Himself says: “I will defend this city to save it for my own sake and for the sake of my servant David” (2 Kings 19:34). And Paul in his Epistle to Timothy spoke of parents thus: “Yet a woman will be saved through childbearing if she remains in faith and love and holiness with self-control” (1 Tim. 2:14–15). And Scripture praises Job both for being “a man…blameless and upright, righteous and godly, turning away from all evil” (Job 1:1) and for his care of his children. And in what did this care consist? Listen to what Scripture says: “When the days of the feast had run their course, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, “It may be that my children have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.” Thus Job did continually” (Job 1:5). What justification will we have then, acting so negligently? For if he who lived before grace and before the law and heard no teaching had such great care for his children that he feared even for their secret sins, who will justify us who live in the time of grace, have so many teachers, so many examples and exhortations, yet not only do not fear for secret sins but pay no attention even to open sins, and not only do we pay no attention ourselves but also persecute those wishing to correct them? And Abraham, as I said before, distinguished himself among others by this virtue.

Therefore, having so many examples, let us prepare godly ministers and servants for God. If one who raises wrestlers for cities or trains soldiers for the king deserves great honor, what gift can we receive, raising for God such valiant and great men, or rather, angels? Let us do everything to leave them the wealth of piety, which remains constant, accompanies us even after death, and can bring the greatest benefit not only here but there. Worldly wealth will not pass into eternity with men but will perish here before them and often destroys its owners, but the wealth of piety both here and there remains constant and will preserve those who have acquired it in great safety. This is indeed true: whoever prefers earthly to spiritual will lack both, but whoever strives for the heavenly will surely obtain the earthly as well. These are not my words but those of the Lord Himself, Who promises to give these goods: “Seek first the Kingdom of God…and all these things will be added to you” (Mt. 6:33). What can compare with this honor? Be concerned, He says, with the spiritual, and leave all else to Me. As a tender father takes upon himself all care of the house, management of servants and all else, and advises his son to occupy himself only with wisdom, so also God acts. Let us be obedient, let us seek the Kingdom of God, then we will see our children honored everywhere, and we ourselves will be glorified with them, will enjoy both present goods if only we love future and heavenly ones. If you listen, you will receive a great reward, but if you resist and do not listen, you will suffer especially severe punishment. For we cannot justify ourselves and say, “No one taught us this.”

Youth is uncontrollable and needs many instructors, teachers, guides, supervisors, educators. And only under such conditions is it possible to curb it. An unbridled horse, an untamed beast—that is what youth also is. Therefore, if from the beginning and from the first age we set proper bounds for it, then later we will not need great effort; rather, habit will become law for them. Let us not allow them to do what is pleasant and at the same time harmful; let us not indulge them because they are children, but especially let us preserve them in chastity. For this causes the most harm to youth. This is what we should care about most, this is what we should be especially attentive to. Let us soon take wives for them so that, having a pure and uncorrupted body, they may be joined with brides. Such love is especially ardent. Whoever was chaste before marriage usually remains so after marriage. Conversely, whoever learned to fornicate before marriage will do the same after marriage. For it is said in Scripture: “All bread is sweet to a fornicator” (Sir. 23:23). This is why crowns are placed on the head—as a sign of victory, that they, unconquered, enter the wedding chamber—that they were not overcome by lust. If someone, swept away by licentiousness, has given himself to harlots, why should he have a crown on his head after this when he is conquered? This we will teach them, this we will instruct them, terrify them, threaten them, doing now one, now another.

We are entrusted with an important deposit—children. Let us therefore care for them and employ all measures so that the wicked one does not steal them from us. Meanwhile, the opposite happens. We employ every effort so that the field is good and so as to entrust it to a reliable man. And we seek the most skilled driver of donkeys and mules, a superintendent, a steward, but we pay no attention to what is most precious for us, namely that we entrust a son to a man who can preserve him in chastity, although this possession is more valuable than all others and the remaining goods come because of it. We care for property for them, but not for them themselves. Do you see what madness has seized us! First form the soul of your son, and he will receive his possessions later. If his soul is not good, he will have no benefit whatsoever from money; and conversely, if it has received proper education, poverty will not harm him in the least. Do you wish to leave him rich? Teach him to be good. For children who have not received proper education, poverty is better than wealth; it even, against their will, keeps them within the bounds of virtue; while the latter, although someone might wish it, does not allow one to live a chaste life but sweeps you away, overwhelms you, and leads into countless crimes.

You mothers, above all watch over your daughters: this care is not difficult for you. Observe that they sit at home and above all teach them to be pious, modest, to despise money and not to care too much about adornment. Thus also marry them off. If you raise your daughter thus, you will save not only her but also her husband and children, and not only the children but the grandchildren. If the root is good, the branches will develop better, and for all this you will receive a reward. Therefore let us all do this, as befits those caring for the good not of one soul but of many through one. For they (daughters), when entering into marriage, should leave their fathers’ houses as wrestlers leave the place of contests, that is, they should know precisely all the science by which they could, like leaven, raise the whole mixture to their own beauty.

And your sons likewise should be so modest that they might be recognized as soon as possible by their good character and chastity, that they might deserve great praise both from men and from God. Let them learn to refrain from unnecessary expenses, to be prudent, tenderly loving; let them learn to obey authority. For thus they can bring parents great reward. Then all will be directed to the glory of God and our salvation, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with Whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.

Appendix

Holy Bishop Theophan the Recluse (1815–1894) left behind an extensive and truly precious spiritual literary heritage: numerous works on Christian morality, compositions expounding the foundations of patristic psychology, translations of ascetical writings (including a translation of the Philokalia), profound commentaries on Sacred Scripture that significantly enriched Russian biblical studies. He accomplished a genuine creative feat, and one of his biographers could rightly assert that by their productivity, the works of Holy Bishop Theophan are comparable to the creations of the Holy Fathers of the 4th century—the Golden Age of Byzantium.

At the Local Council of the Russian Orthodox Church, dedicated to the millennium of the Baptism of Rus’, Theophan the Recluse was numbered among the saints. In the Council’s decision it was noted: “Deep theological understanding of Christian teaching, as well as its practical fulfillment, and as a consequence of this, the height and holiness of the life of the Holy Bishop allow us to regard his writings as a development of patristic teaching with the preservation of the same Orthodox purity and divine illumination.”

A special place in the spiritual and literary heritage of Holy Bishop Theophan is occupied by his letters to various people who asked him for advice or spiritual help, resolution of perplexing questions, comfort in sorrow, relief in troubles…. From all sides of Russia these requests flowed into Vysha Convent, where Bishop Theophan remained during the last 28 years of his life, moreover spending twenty-two of these years in strict seclusion. Before this he had already traveled a considerable life and spiritual path, devoted to serving God’s Church in various pursuits and in different places.

Holy Bishop Theophan was born, in the world George Vasily Govorov, on January 10, 1815, in the village of Chernavskoye in Yelets District of Oryol Province, in the family of a priest. He studied at Liven Theological Seminary, Oryol Theological Seminary, and the Kiev Theological Academy. In 1841, in Kiev, he took monastic vows with the name Theophan, and in the same year was ordained to the priesthood as a hierodiacon and hieromonk. This was followed by service as inspector in several theological educational institutions, the rectorate of the Saint Petersburg Theological Academy; trips to Palestine as part of a Russian spiritual mission and to Constantinople as head of the embassy church (during these trips there occurred a deep study of ascetical literature from the Orthodox East). On June 1, 1859, in the Trinity Cathedral of the Alexander Nevsky Lavra, the ordination and enthronement of Holy Bishop Theophan as Bishop of Tambov was performed, then followed a transfer to the ancient, more extensive Vladimir see…. Such is a brief outline of his external life’s path, full of constant varied activity always successful and fruitful for the benefit of the Church and Fatherland. His inner path, the hidden spiritual life of the Holy Bishop, led to this: in 1866, when at what seemed the very “height” of practical activity, Bishop Theophan unexpectedly submitted a petition to the Holy Synod for retirement with the right to remain in Vysha Convent of Tambov Diocese. The petition was granted, and he finally obtained what he had long felt to be his principal spiritual calling: complete withdrawal from worldly affairs, solitude, inner work undistracted. In his letters he testified that he was truly happy at Vysha: “Vysha can only be exchanged for the Kingdom of Heaven.” Entering seclusion, he arranged a small church in his cells in the name of the Baptism of the Lord and spent his life in worship and prayer, in bodily and spiritual labors, in careful self-examination, watchfulness and vigilance, in intense reading and reflection on God, in literary works….

All this greatest and truly priceless experience, accumulated on various life’s paths, and especially in the years of seclusion, was mobilized by the Holy Bishop in his enormous correspondence with numerous correspondents, among whom were representatives of all estates, from dignitaries to peasants. Daily the mail brought 20 to 40 letters, and Bishop Theophan invariably answered each one of them, keenly discerning the state and needs of the writer and finding for each one the word that goes straight to the heart, the necessary word. He possessed a rare gift of speaking simply, clearly, and concisely about the deepest and wisest things.

In the Holy Bishop’s letters there is not a trace of tedious moralizing, dry moralism. They are warmed by selfless love, heartfelt attention to people—and therefore they are written in such living, vivid, artless style.

It is often possible to find in the Holy Bishop’s letters flashes of bright humor. For instance, with a playful sigh he notes the increasing attempts of self-confident human reason to penetrate the ineffable and unsearchable mysteries of Divine life: “Nowadays there is no restraining from asking questions together. Our reason—a mosquito, and it keeps buzzing!” And here is the characterization Bishop Theophan gives of our unbridled tongue: “The tongue?! There is nothing more harmful under heaven. One would wish it so arranged that something would prick it for each of its forbidden utterances (at least a pin). Then it would be quieter, but as it is, like a little machine singing songs…, once wound up and released it… keeps on tattling away.”

Holy Bishop Theophan the Recluse, the translator of the remarkable work Unseen Warfare, in his extensive correspondence did not leave unattended a single aspect of spiritual struggle for one who has stepped on the narrow and thorny but salutary path leading to the Kingdom of Heaven. What themes only, what questions only does he not consider and reveal in spiritual conversations with his correspondents! Here are life’s sorrows, illnesses, family and civil life, the true purpose of art, and the right approach to various external circumstances of life, and the endless problems of inner life: struggle with thoughts, with self-pleasing, with despondency, acquiring humility and patience, tears and warmth of heart, and guidance in reflection on God, and teaching on true prayer, on various stages of prayerful practice (the Holy Bishop gave prayer special attention since he considered it the queen of spiritual life, whose foundation is humility).

One wishes to hope that the present work, offered to the reader’s attention, will help him find true and precise landmarks on the path of salvation and will contribute to the great work of our spiritual renewal.

Troparion to Saint Theophan, Tone 8

Instructor of Orthodoxy, teacher of piety and purity, ascetic of Vyshnaya, O wise hierarch Theophan, you have explained the Word of God through your writings and shown all the faithful the path to salvation. Entreat Christ God to save our souls.

Kontakion to Saint Theophan, Tone 4

Sharing the name of the Theophany, O holy hierarch Theophan, you have enlightened many people through your teachings and now stand with the angels before the Throne of the Holy Trinity. Unceasingly entreat on behalf of us all.

Scripture Index

Every Scripture reference identified in this book, sorted in canonical Bible order. Tap a reference to jump to the verse where it appears.

Genesis

Genesis 4:1313. The Ascent to the Vow to Dedicate Yourself to God

Genesis 18:1933. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Leviticus

Leviticus 20:933. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

1 Samuel

1 Samuel 2:433. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

1 Samuel 2:2433. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

1 Samuel 3:133. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

2 Samuel

2 Samuel 19:3433. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Job

Job 1:133. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Job 1:533. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Psalms

Psalms 4:718. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Psalms 15:821. Vision of the Other World

Psalms 21:722. Standing in Feelings That Lead to Resolve

Psalms 37:622. Standing in Feelings That Lead to Resolve

Psalms 41:216. The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion

Psalms 41:332. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Psalms 56:832. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Psalms 104:418. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Psalms 117:252. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Psalms 138:721. Vision of the Other World; 22. Standing in Feelings That Lead to Resolve

Psalms 140:413. The Ascent to the Vow to Dedicate Yourself to God

Proverbs

Proverbs 23:2610. The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace

Song of Songs

Song of Songs 5:232. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Isaiah

Isaiah 1:1410. The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace

Jeremiah

Jeremiah 1:105. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Repentance?

Lamentations

Lamentations 3:273. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Ezekiel

Ezekiel 3:1231. Ascent to God

Ezekiel 36:265. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Repentance?; 32. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Sirach

Sirach 4:18–2118. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Sirach 7:2533. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Sirach 7:3921. Vision of the Other World

Sirach 16:1–233. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Sirach 23:2333. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew

Matthew 5:831. Ascent to God

Matthew 5:2233. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 5:2933. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 5:3233. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 5:3433. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 6:133. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 6:620. Inner Dwelling

Matthew 6:1533. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 6:3333. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 7:212. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Matthew 8:816. The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion

Matthew 10:3733. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Matthew 11:1218. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Matthew 25:2926. The Ordering of External Life in the Spirit of the New Life

Matthew 26:412. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Mark

Mark 7:1033. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Mark 8:34–3812. Ascent to Resolution to Abandon Sin

Mark 8:3612. Ascent to Resolution to Abandon Sin

Mark 8:3812. Ascent to Resolution to Abandon Sin

Mark 9:492. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Mark 14:3831. Ascent to God

Luke

Luke 6:24–2633. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Luke 10:416. The State of a Sinner

Luke 11:910. The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace

Luke 12:492. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?; 19. On the Preservation of the Spirit of Fervor Toward God

Luke 15:11–327. The Action of Divine Grace

Luke 15:179. The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

Luke 16:2933. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Luke 17:2120. Inner Dwelling

John

John 3:89. The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

John 6:445. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Repentance?

John 6:5516. The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion

John 6:5616. The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion

John 6:56–5727. The Gracious Means of Cultivating and Strengthening Spiritual Life

John 12:2533. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

John 14:2018. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

John 14:2318. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; 32. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

John 15:516. The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion; 18. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; 27. The Gracious Means of Cultivating and Strengthening Spiritual Life

John 15:1926. The Ordering of External Life in the Spirit of the New Life

John 16:2218. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

John 16:3329. Rules for the Struggle Against the Passions, or the Foundations of Self-Resistance

John 17:2132. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

John 20:2816. The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion

John 21:1831. Ascent to God
Acts
Acts 4:1221. Vision of the Other World

Acts 9:69. The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

Acts 17:2718. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Acts 17:309. The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

Romans

Romans 2:521. Vision of the Other World

Romans 6:43. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Romans 6:63. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Romans 6:103. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Romans 6:143. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Romans 7:212. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Romans 7:2329. Rules for the Struggle Against the Passions, or the Foundations of Self-Resistance

Romans 8:918. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; 32. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Romans 8:173. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Romans 8:2210. The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace

Romans 8:3222. Standing in Feelings That Lead to Resolve

Romans 8:353. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?; 32. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Romans 9:62. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Romans 10:179. The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

Romans 12:112. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Romans 14:1718. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; 31. Ascent to God

1 Corinthians

1 Corinthians 2:2–49. The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

1 Corinthians 2:1632. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

1 Corinthians 3:618. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

1 Corinthians 3:1632. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

1 Corinthians 6:1226. The Ordering of External Life in the Spirit of the New Life

1 Corinthians 7:3126. The Ordering of External Life in the Spirit of the New Life

1 Corinthians 9:242. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

1 Corinthians 11:2816. The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion; 27. The Gracious Means of Cultivating and Strengthening Spiritual Life

1 Corinthians 11:29–3027. The Gracious Means of Cultivating and Strengthening Spiritual Life

1 Corinthians 14:3533. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

1 Corinthians 15:2821. Vision of the Other World

1 Corinthians 15:333. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

2 Corinthians

2 Corinthians 4:1625. Mortifying the Body in the Spirit of the New Life

2 Corinthians 5:153. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

2 Corinthians 5:173. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

2 Corinthians 6:14–1518. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

2 Corinthians 6:1618. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

2 Corinthians 13:518. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Galatians

Galatians 2:2018. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; 32. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Galatians 3:2718. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Galatians 5:22–233. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

Ephesians
Ephesians 1:1021. Vision of the Other World
Ephesians 5:147. The Action of Divine Grace

Ephesians 6:433. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

Philippians

Philippians 1:618. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Philippians 2:1318. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

Philippians 3:1419. On the Preservation of the Spirit of Fervor Toward God

Philippians 4:1329. Rules for the Struggle Against the Passions, or the Foundations of Self-Resistance

Colossians

Colossians 3:318. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; 32. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Colossians 3:123. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

1 Thessalonians

1 Thessalonians 5:192. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?; 19. On the Preservation of the Spirit of Fervor Toward God

1 Timothy

1 Timothy 2:14–1533. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

1 Timothy 3:4–533. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

2 Timothy

2 Timothy 1:1324. Exercises That Contribute to the Formation of the Soul’s Powers According to the Spirit of the Christian Life

2 Timothy 4:732. Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

Hebrews

Hebrews 4:125. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Repentance?; 8. The Awakening of a Sinner From the Sleep of Sin

Hebrews 6:7–88. The Awakening of a Sinner From the Sleep of Sin

Hebrews 6:810. The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace

Hebrews 9:2721. Vision of the Other World

Hebrews 10:2524. Exercises That Contribute to the Formation of the Soul’s Powers According to the Spirit of the Christian Life

Hebrews 10:298. The Awakening of a Sinner From the Sleep of Sin

Hebrews 13:1733. Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

1 Peter
1 Peter 5:831. Ascent to God
2 Peter

2 Peter 1:313. The Ascent to the Vow to Dedicate Yourself to God

1 John

1 John 2:15. How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Repentance?

1 John 2:1526. The Ordering of External Life in the Spirit of the New Life

Revelation

Revelation 3:12. How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

Revelation 3:2010. The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace; 18. How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

The Author: Saint Theophan the Recluse

Saint Theophan the Recluse (1815–1894) is among the most beloved teachers of the spiritual life in the Russian Orthodox Church. He was born on 10 January 1815 in the village of Chernavsk, in the Oryol province of central Russia, and given the name Georgy Vasilyevich Govorov. His father was a parish priest, and the boy was raised in the ordered piety of a country rectory. He studied first at the theological school in Livny, then at the Oryol Seminary, and finally at the Kiev Theological Academy, from which he graduated in 1841. The ancient monasteries of Kiev, and above all the Monastery of the Caves, left a deep mark on him during those years.

In his last year as a student, in 1841, Georgy Govorov was tonsured a monk and given the name Theophan, after Saint Theophan the Confessor, a defender of the holy icons. He was soon ordained hieromonk and set on the path of teaching and administration in the Church’s schools: he served in the theological schools of Kiev, as inspector at Novgorod, and as an instructor in moral and pastoral theology at the Saint Petersburg Theological Academy. For several years he lived in the Christian East, attached to the Russian Ecclesiastical Mission, where in Jerusalem, Constantinople, and on Mount Athos he studied, copied, and gathered the writings of the Fathers that he would later render into Russian. In 1857 he was appointed rector of the Saint Petersburg Theological Academy.

In 1859 he was consecrated Bishop of Tambov and Shatsk, and in 1863 he was transferred to the ancient see of Vladimir. As a bishop he was known for gentleness, tireless preaching, and care for the education of his people, founding diocesan schools for girls in both dioceses. Yet the labours of administration drew him away from the inner life he most desired. In 1866, at his own request, he was released from the government of his diocese and withdrew to the Vyshensky Hermitage, a quiet monastery he had come to love while at Tambov.

At Vysha, Saint Theophan gradually gave himself wholly to prayer and writing. Beginning in 1872 he entered strict reclusion: he no longer left his cell for the monastery church, received almost no visitors, and lived for the remaining years in two small rooms, celebrating the Divine Liturgy alone in a chapel he had arranged. This seclusion, far from being idleness, became the most fruitful period of his life. From it flowed the works for which he is remembered: The Path to Salvation and What the Spiritual Life Is; his translation and great expansion of the Philokalia (the Russian Dobrotolyubie) and of other monastic writings; Unseen Warfare; his commentaries on almost all the Epistles of the Apostle Paul, together with expositions of several Psalms; and an immense correspondence, in which he answered, often at the rate of dozens of letters a day, the spiritual questions of people throughout Russia. In 1890 the Saint Petersburg Theological Academy conferred on him a doctorate in theology.

Saint Theophan reposed on 6 January 1894, the Feast of the Theophany whose name he bore, at the age of seventy-nine, and was buried at the Vysha monastery. In 1988, during the Local Council of the Russian Orthodox Church that celebrated the millennium of the Baptism of Rus’, he was numbered among the saints. His feast is kept on 10 January.

His significance for the Church lies in the way he gathered the whole ascetical and patristic inheritance of Orthodoxy and made it speak to ordinary Christians. He wrote not for specialists but for anyone seeking God, tracing with unusual clarity the movements of the heart, the discipline of unceasing prayer, and the long work by which grace and human freedom together bring a soul to salvation. In his Scripture commentaries this same pastoral aim is at work: he reads the sacred text through the eyes of the ancient Fathers and turns every doctrine toward the reader’s own inner life. For this the Russian Church honours him as a Father in her own age and a sure guide on the path of salvation.

Colophon

The Path to Salvation
by Saint Theophan the Recluse.

This edition was produced by
Royal Archives.

The cover features
Vladimirka (1892)
by Isaac Levitan (Russian, 1860–1900), Wikimedia Commons, which is in the public domain.

The text is set in Palatino and Georgia.

The first edition of this ebook was released on
August 16, 2026.

Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Copyright
- Introduction

- Part 1. On the Beginning of the Christian Life through Holy Baptism, with an Indication of How to Preserve This Grace during the Years of Upbringing

- How Does the Christian Life Begin in Us?

- How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Baptism?

- Part 2. On the Beginning of the Christian Life through Repentance; or, On the Repentance and Conversion of the Sinner to God

- How Does Christian Life Begin in the Mystery of Repentance?

- The State of a Sinner

- The Action of Divine Grace

- The Awakening of a Sinner From the Sleep of Sin

- The Extraordinary Actions of Divine Grace in Awakening Sinners From the Sleep of Sin

- The Ordinary Order of Acquiring the Gift of Arousing Grace

- Ascent to resolution to abandon sin and devote oneself to pleasing God

- Ascent to Resolution to Abandon Sin

- The Ascent to the Vow to Dedicate Yourself to God

- Clothing With Power From Above for the Work of Pleasing God in the Mysteries of Repentance and Communion

- To the Repentant is Pronounced Complete Forgiveness in the Mystery of Repentance

- The Penitent Approaches the Mystery of Holy Communion

- Part 3. On How the Christian Life Is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us; or, On the Order of a God-Pleasing Life

- How Christian Life is Accomplished, Matures, and Grows Strong in Us

- On the Preservation of the Spirit of Fervor Toward God

- Inner Dwelling
- Vision of the Other World
- Standing in Feelings That Lead to Resolve

- Guidance for Practices That Strengthen the Soul’s and Body’s Powers in Goodness

- Exercises That Contribute to the Formation of the Soul’s Powers According to the Spirit of the Christian Life

- Mortifying the Body in the Spirit of the New Life

- The Ordering of External Life in the Spirit of the New Life

- The Gracious Means of Cultivating and Strengthening Spiritual Life

- Approaching Continuous Fasting Preparation

- Rules for the Struggle Against the Passions, or the Foundations of Self-Resistance

- Beginnings of Ascent to Living Communion With God

- Ascent to God

- Living Communion With God is Perfected in a State of Stillness, Leading to Dispassion

- Lessons on Upbringing From Our Holy Father John Chrysostom

- Appendix
- Troparion to Saint Theophan, Tone 8
- Kontakion to Saint Theophan, Tone 4

- Scripture Index
- The Author: Saint Theophan the Recluse
- Colophon