Discourse 18

Again, what I heard from old men and from the stories of holy men: and their hidden words and their wondrous conduct. May the Lord preserve us through their prayers. Amen. Chapter 18. One day I went to the cell of a certain holy brother, and I tarried there for a while on account of an illness, as it seemed to me, because of God. But that man was not in those regions. I used to see this brother at night, for he would stand for a long time before the service. He had a custom: before all the brothers he would wake for the service and begin the psalms, and he would go on in this way for a while. Then he would leave the service and fall on his face. And about a hundred times, as a man might say, he would strike his head on the ground, firmly and sharply, with that fervor which was kindled in his heart from grace. And he would stand and make the sign of the cross, and again prostrate and stand and make the sign, and again fall on his face. And in this manner he would do many times, so that I was unable to count. How many prostrations that brother used to make at night!

ain old man, and he was approaching the cross and reciting the eighteen psalms with reverence and fervor, with a love mingled with fear. And again he would repeat the psalms. And from time to time, from many stones of thoughts that inflamed him with their heat, he could no longer endure that flame from his joy. He would become purified and raise his voice, unable to contain himself. And I marveled at the grace that was with that brother, and I was astonished at how diligent and vigilant he was in the works of God. After the morning service, when he sat down for reading, he seemed like a man intoxicated. And at every verse he read, he would fall on his face many times. And at the end of the words, he would stretch out his hands to heaven and praise many times. He was a man of measure, like a man of forty years. His food was small and dry, and he was hot in his temperament. And because he constrained himself, whenever his body did not accept, from time to time he would appear like a shadow, until a person would feel pity for him from the weakness of his person, so that he would become whole and be like two fingers.

I said to him, "Father, many times I have said to you: Have mercy on this well-ordered rule of your conduct, my brother, and on this beautiful path which your heart has taken, and do not confuse and break off this rule of yours, which is a spiritual chain of six links, because of the weariness of a little extra labor which you add, and which leaves you behind from your entire course. Eat in measure, so that you may eat continuously. And do not increase your walking beyond your strength, so that you may not be completely exhausted." And he was compassionate and very forgetful, and he loved joyfully. And he was healed from his passion and became very simple, and wise in God. And because of his simplicity and joy, everyone loved him, and everyone loved him. And with all the brothers he would work, serving in their cells when they had something, whether for three or four days. And from evening to evening he would come to his cell, until the work of the brother was finished. He would do well in this work. When he had something, he would also do well and be concerned about them; he would give much from the persons of all the crafts. And he could not say, "I have nothing," or "It is not owed to me.

Even that which he used to go out from his cell with difficulty for the service of the brothers, because of the shame from the persons, for he would force himself when he was not accustomed to go out. When many times he would tell me about the difficulty of his going out from his cell. These were his divine practices, that brother being wondrous. Another old man. At one of the times I went to the cell of an old man, one of the elders, a virtuous man, who loved me well. He was somewhat simple in his speech, but clear in his thoughts and deep. And whatever came to him, as if from grace, he would speak. And he would not quickly go out from his cell, except for the holy mysteries. He would remain with himself and be silent. And I said to him, "Father, a thought came to me: to go on the day of Sunday and sit in the narthex of the church and eat from morning, so that I might see all who enter and go out, as if I were distracted." The old man said to me, "It is written: He who causes the worldly to stumble does not see the light. As for you, no one knows you in the regions above, and they do not know what your goodness is. And they say: The solitaries eat from morning, and especially that there are brothers who are beginners, who are weak in their thoughts. Many, however, from among them, and also the followers, are with you now. And when they see you, they go to their own secret places.

The holy fathers used to perform deeds such as these, because of the many signs and powers that were in their hands, and because of the great name and honor that they had. And these they would do each one of them, as if they were fleeing and escaping, because the glory of their conduct would be obscured, so that the cause of pride might be removed from them. But you, what necessity compels you to do this? Do you not know that even for conduct you have a measure for such things? You have no distinguished conduct, nor a name. You are governed like the rest of the brothers. Truly, you do not benefit yourself by this, and you also harm others. Even this conduct is not beneficial for everyone, but only for great and perfect persons, because there is in it the beginning of passions. For beginners and those in the middle, it greatly harms. They are in need of more caution concerning prudence and the suppression of passions. For the elders have passed beyond the boundary, as it is said, and they trade in whatever they wish, and they know how to profit. A common merchant, however, greatly harms his standing by great desires. But by small ones, how many times does he easily come before them? Truly, as I said, in every action there is a measure.

to every mode of conduct: it is known. And everything that is before its time begins in a matter that is above its measure: suffering befalls, and not profit. If this is pleasing to you: first endure the trials that will come upon you in a public manner without your will, joyfully while you are not disturbed, and it will avail your trials. Another elder: I was at one of the times of need, with that capable one who tasted from the tree of life in personal experience, from the morning of youth until the evening of old age. And after many words that I learned about excellence, he also said this to me: that every prayer in which the body does not labor and the heart does not suffer in it, consider it a thread without a soul, that prayer. Again he said to me: every person, then, who loves purity in his word and is clever in his thought and is sharp in his senses, will not be completed with him, so that that tranquility which is acquired by labors may not be driven away from you, and darkness and disturbance fill your heart. I went at a time to the cell of one of the fathers. That holy one did not quickly open to anyone. And when he saw me from the window that I was there, he said to me: Do you want to come in? And I said to him: Yes. And after I entered and we prayed and sat down, he spoke with me about many things.

afterwards I asked him also this, and said: "What shall I do, my Lord? For there are brothers who enter into me with love, and I am not able to profit from their desire. And if I tell them not to enter, I am distressed. But also they hinder me and from the customary services many times. And I told them plainly: 'I am not able.' And I was much ashamed in this matter." And that blessed one said to me: "When a man like these enters to you, lovers of idleness and despisers of vain things, after they have sat a little, make yourself as one who wishes to rise for the service. And say to that brother: 'With permission, brother, rise and serve the service. For the time of my service has come, and I am not able to pass it by. Otherwise, it will be a burden for me to keep another time over it. And this will be a cause for me of disturbance, and to leave them I am not able except with difficulty. Now, therefore, you have no cause of difficulty to delay the service. And do not leave it entirely until he rises with you for the service. And if he says: 'Now you serve, and then I will go,' throw down the permission and say: 'Complete the love with me, and serve with me this one service, that it may be helped by your prayer.' And when he is persuaded and rises before you, lengthen your service more than your custom.

Thus you shall do to him every time he comes. And when you see that he is not of your mind and loves idle talk, again, to the place where you are heard to be, do not let him approach. See: do not take upon yourself the person of another, and thereby nullify the works of God. Know that another is from the fathers, or a brother who is a stranger to me: a great service will be accounted to you—this one, that you multiply his request. But if that stranger too is one of those who loves idle words, relieve them with what you can, and quickly dismiss him. Someone among the saints said to me: It is a wonder that a person who hears that there are people who work in their cells some work and also complete the canons of the cell without omission, and can do so without being disturbed, and he spoke a word worthy of admiration: that truly, as it is said, if one even goes to draw water, he is disturbed from the customary order. As you taught me by your action, and from the completion of the distinctions that I have, the elder was asked by the brother: "What shall I do, for many times I have a need and I am distressed over it, either because of illness, or because of work, or because of some cause of that sort, so that with the help of its own necessity I can manage in silence, lacking or having more?

And I see a person who is burdensome to me, and I excuse myself from charity and give to him. Or I ask from him, from a person, and I am constrained by love and by commandment, and I give to him. And afterwards, I am wearied by the will. And that burden of his, because of which I am cast into anxiety and trouble and confusion of thoughts, separates me from the tranquility of my mind, and the intention of my hastening from the accustomed practice of silent labor. So that many times I am constrained and even to the point of departing from silence, and of becoming in the desire of the will. And if I again force myself not to depart, I am in great distress and disturbance of thought. And because of the action, I am despised in my humility and my lowliness. And I do not know which of the two I should choose: that which nullifies and destroys my tranquility because of the weariness of my neighbors, or that I should rest from this because I force myself in silence and solitude, and I should gain only the small things for myself, while I have not cast myself to fall into many sicknesses and anxiety because of a person. Concerning this, that which I should learn is that which is good and more acceptable.

And the old man said: Every work of mercy, or love, or alms, or gift, and every such obligation, or any action that is thought to be for God, which turns you away from stillness, and takes from you the loftiness that is from the world, and casts you into agitation, and disturbs you in his service from your contemplation of God, and interrupts the order of your prayers, and brings upon you confusion of thoughts, and takes from you the grievous burden of reading and the vigil that comes from wakefulness, and loosens your vigilance, and makes you a wanderer instead of a solitary, and from one who is single makes you mixed, and stirs up buried pains upon you, and loosens the restraint of your senses, and warms your deadness that is from the world, and lowers you from the service of the angels, which is the solitary contemplation of the One, and sets you in the place of the ministry of the worldly—let that righteousness perish. For the completion of the works of love toward the neighbor through bodily labors is the work of the worldly. Or rather, these solitaries who are inferior to the service of stillness, or who have mixed stillness with the company of associates, and have a constant coming and going.

The solitary ones, then, are those who have truly chosen the loftiness from the world in body and in will, to stand in that solitary prayer of the death of the passions, and from the intention of every action, and from the vision and remembrance of the desires, for Christ. It is not through the work of these bodily things and the righteousness of visible labors, and through the mediation of persons, as it is fitting for a servant to serve him, but through the death of his members on earth, as the word of the Apostle says, when they offer at all times the sacrifices of the pure ones of their thoughts, the firstfruits of their work, and the sufferings of their bodies in the endurance of afflictions for the sake of that hope which sustains them. To abandon the work of heavenly things and to trade righteousness for desires from the earth. The brother who is able to be patient with what he has, in difficult labors, and to be silent cautiously, so that the solitary ones may approach righteousness. The one who is his head says to him: The solitary one knows that he who does not approach righteousness.

who, with a bold face, is able to say to our Lord, like that which is said: "Behold, I have left everything and come after you"? But he who has acquired nothing on earth, and does not labor with his body in earthly things, and has not taken in his mind the care of anything in the world from these visible things, and does not look to acquire. When something is brought to him from men, he receives only the necessities of his sustenance; for the rest, he does not even look. And his sign is like a bird in its flight: he who is not near to doing charity, because he has a service that is more excellent than charity. From that which he frees, how can he give to others in like manner? For as a man works with his hands and also receives from others, so also he is bound to do charity. The justification of this, however, is a clear transgression against the commandments of God. For he who is not enriched by hidden things before God, and does not know how to serve God in spirit, from these clear things, what other hope does he have, by which his life might be sustained? This one is excommunicated. Again, the teaching of one of the fathers on true stillness. Again, another said: That man is amazed at those who disturb themselves with the practices of stillness, because they wish to benefit others with bodily things.

Again he says: It is not right to mix with the labor of stillness the worldly care of anything in the world, except for those things in which, in stillness, he has a place to work. And every conduct in its place is to be honored, so that there be no confusion in our conduct. For he who is anxious about many things is a servant of many things. He who lets go of everything and is concerned with the tranquility of his soul is a lover of God. See, there are many in the world who perform righteous deeds and fulfill the duty of neighborliness in bodily things. But those who work in stillness, beautiful and profound in God, are found to be few and rare. Or those among them who work righteousness through desires and earthly things are justified, so that a person from among them might receive even one of the gifts that are received from God by those who labor in stillness. Again, he said: If you are a worldly person, be adorned with the conduct of worldly people. And if you are a solitary, be enriched by the labors of solitaries. But if you wish to work in both, you will fall from both. The labor of solitaries is this: to be freed from sensory perceptions and to be united with God through the intention of the heart and the wakefulness of the body in prayer.

And if it is possible that by means of stillness the place be filled with its worldly superfluity, beware. Or perhaps the solitary, laboring in stillness, is sufficient for both modes of conduct, external and internal? This, then, pertains to the service of God and to the attainment of his heart, even the care of others. But I think that even when he has left everything, whatever is good desires to be conducted towards God, and that he alone be concerned with the conduct of his own self in these matters of conduct. Not even thus is it sufficient for him to be without loss in all his obligations in the labor of stillness. Rather, he is still deficient from attaining his full weight, even if he remains far from his need and his thought of the world entirely; he has abandoned even the increase of other thoughts. He has left, then, to our Lord those who serve and minister to his servants and his works, and he has chosen also those who serve before him, who are his own.

Not only in the actions of earthly kings do we see their glory and exaltation in their ranks—those who stand before the king, honored and esteemed in his mysteries—but also in those who, though external servants, are held by the love of the king. Moreover, in those of the house of God it is easy to see: how freely those who are intimate with him stand, who are adorned with him in prayer at all times, and over how great a wealth of heaven and earth they rule, and how their lordship is manifested over all the orders of creation, so that without hindrance their words are obeyed as if to God. And in them his image is clearly depicted in the greatness of honor that comes from all the rational and silent ones, from those who serve God with the acquisitions and desires of the earth, and with their labors they give him rest. Yet this is great and beautiful, but it is not fitting for us: for stillness is not taken from those who are inferior in their ranks in the service of God, but from the travelers of the path and from the saints among our ways of conduct. And from those who at one time renounced the earth and cast a hand upon the threshold of heaven. By these did the first saints please God—those who are the examiners of the path of our conduct, the pure ones among them.

That holy John of the region of Thebais, that treasure of excellence and fountain of purity—was it through bodily postures that he extended his limbs within his cell, or through prayer that he pleased God? For there were those who, through these things, pleased and were exalted. I admit, however, that they were inferior to those who pleased God through prayer and through silence that is free from all adornment. The assistance that comes from the limbs of those who dwell in silence is exalted. It is known, however, that their assistance—when necessity arises through the word of excellence, or to offer prayer on their behalf—is external to these things. But the remembrance or care of a person on account of these bodily things, to bring to his mind one who dwells in silence, is not wisdom. That which gives to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's, and the nearness that is his own and that which belongs to God, is not the property of those who dwell in silence, but of those who are directed externally. As for the one who is directed by the service of angels, that one, through the intention of the self, to please through earthly means, is not his own. That one, to fall into the snare of the work of hands, or to be eager to take from others and give to others—his service is in heaven. It is not fitting for the solitary that the intention of anything be disturbed and lowered from his thought, from the standing that is before God.

If a man scrutinizes when he brings the account of Paul to the contest: that even Paul did not serve, he also performed acts of righteousness. To this they say, "A man against him: that Paul was alone, who was sufficient for everything." Another Paul, however, we do not know if there was one who was able to be sufficient for everything like him. Show me if you can, another Paul, and I will be convinced. But these things of governance do not enter the contest, with the activities of the interior. For one is the work of preachers, and another the work of the silent one. You, however, if you desire silence for your heart, be like a cherub, who cares for nothing of the earth. And think that there is no longer any other human being in creation, except you alone, and God whom you worship, as your fathers before you taught you. For a man hardens his heart and takes his compassion with difficulty, so that he may be far from the care of every human being. Not for the sake of God nor for the bodily, but only for prayer at the times he has set for himself, so that love and the thought of a man may not enter his heart, to be freed from the disturbance of cares and to be in silence, he is not able. This is the end.

If a thought comes to you to contend with a person of excellence in a man, as if Paul had removed from you the contest of the remembrance of God, which would be in your heart, say to him: This conduct is good, love and compassion for the sake of God. But also, for the sake of God himself, a man does not seek him. Continue with me: that for the sake of God, a man pursues after you. That solitary one says: He says to him: And also for the sake of God, a man flees from you. Therefore, Father, Aristias: for God did not even open his mouth to speak, neither for profit nor for error. Another, however, the whole day, for God would speak and receive all the guests who were fasting there. That one, however, instead of this, chose silence and stillness, because he was with the Spirit of God within the sea of this world; they were steering with a high contest in the tranquil ships of silent conduct, as was revealed openly to the athletes who observed this practice. Also, this name of silence is stillness from everything. For if even in silence you fill disturbance, when the body is disturbed by the work of the hands and the activities of various things, and the soul by the governance of another, what stillness do you have then to receive the many and to be pleasing to God? You are.

Except for the abandonment of everything and the renunciation of all, the practice of stillness is a mockery for me to speak of.