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- The way of the pilgrim & The pilgrim continues his way
- By the grace of God I am a Christian man, by my actions a great sinner, and by
- calling a homeless wanderer of the humblest birth who roams from place to place. My
- worldly goods are a knapsack with some dried bread in it on my back, and in my
- breast pocket a Bible. And that is all.
- On the twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost I went to church to say my prayers there
- during the liturgy. The first Epistle of St. Paul to the Thessalonians was being read,
- and among other words I heard these—"Pray without ceasing." It was this text, more
- than any other, which forced itself upon my mind, and I began to think how it was
- possible to pray without ceasing, since a man has to concern himself with other
- things also in order to make a living. I looked at my Bible and with my own eyes read
- the words which I had heard, that is, that we ought always, at all times and in all
- places, to pray with uplifted hands. I thought and thought, but knew not what to make
- of it. "What ought I to do?" I thought. "Where shall I find someone to explain it to me?
- I will go to the churches where famous preachers are to be heard; perhaps there I
- shall hear something that will throw light on it for me." I did so. I heard a number of
- very fine sermons on prayer—what prayer is, how much we need it, and what its
- fruits are—but no one said how one could succeed in prayer. I heard a sermon on
- spiritual prayer, and unceasing prayer, but how it was to be done was not pointed
- out.
- Thus listening to sermons failed to give me what I wanted, and having had my fill of
- them without gaining understanding, I gave up going to hear public sermons. I settled
- on another plan—by God's help to look for some experienced and skilled person who
- would give me in conversation that teaching about unceasing prayer which drew me
- so urgently. For a long time I wandered through many places. I read my Bible always,
- and everywhere I asked whether there was not in the neighborhood a spiritual
- teacher, a devout and experienced guide, to be found. One day I was told that in a
- certain village a gentleman had long been living and seeking the salvation of his soul.
- He had a chapel in his house. He never left his estate, and he spent his time in
- prayer and reading devotional books. Hearing this, I ran rather than walked to the
- village named. I got there and found him.
- 3
- "What do you want of me?" he asked.
- "I have heard that you are a devout and clever person," said I. "In God's name
- please explain to me the meaning of the Apostle's words, 'Pray without ceasing.' How
- is it possible to pray without ceasing? I want to know so much, but I cannot
- understand it at all."
- He was silent for a while and looked at me closely. Then he said, "Ceaseless
- interior prayer is a continual yearning of the human spirit toward God. To succeed in
- this consoling exercise we must pray more often to God to teach us to pray without
- ceasing. Pray more, and pray more fervently. It is prayer itself which will reveal to you
- how it can be achieved unceasingly; but it will take some time."
- So saying, he had food brought to me, gave me money for my journey, and let me
- go. He did not explain the matter.
- Again I set off. I thought and thought, I read and read, I dwelt over and over again
- upon what this man had said to me, but I could not get to the bottom of it. Yet so
- greatly did I wish to understand that I could not sleep at night. I walked at least 125
- miles, and then I came to a large town, a provincial capital, where I saw a monastery.
- At the inn where I stopped I heard it said that the abbot was a man of great kindness,
- devout and hospitable. I went to see him. He met me in a very friendly manner, asked
- me to sit down, and offered me refreshment.
- "I do not need refreshment, holy Father," I said, "but I beg you to give me some
- spiritual teaching. How can I save my soul?"
- "What? Save your soul? Well, live according to the commandments; say your
- prayers and you will be saved."
- "But I hear it said that we should pray without ceasing, and I don't know how to
- pray without ceasing. I cannot even understand what unceasing prayer means. I beg
- you, Father, explain this to me."
- "I don't know how to explain further, dear brother. But, stop a moment, I have a
- little book, and it is explained there." And he handed me St. Dmitri's book, on The
- Spiritual Education of the Inner Man, saying, "Look, read this page."
- I began to read as follows: "The words of the Apostle, 'Pray without ceasing,'
- should be understood as referring to the creative prayer of the understanding. The
- 4:
- understanding can always be reaching out toward God and praying to Him
- unceasingly."
- "But," I asked, "What is the method by which the understanding can always be
- turned toward God, never be disturbed, and pray without ceasing?"
- "It is very difficult, even for one to whom God Himself gives such a gift," replied
- the abbot. He did not give me the explanation. I spent the night at his house, and in
- the morning, thanking him for his kindly hospitality, I went on my way—where to, I did
- not know myself. My failure to understand made me sad, and by way of comforting
- myself I read my Bible. In this way I followed the main road for five days.
- At last toward evening I was overtaken by an old man who looked like a cleric of
- some sort. In answer to my question he told me that he was a monk belonging to a
- monastery some six miles off the main road. He asked me to go there with him. "We
- take in pilgrims," said he, "and give them rest and food with devout persons in the
- guesthouse." I did not feel like going. So in reply I said that my peace of mind in no
- way depended upon my finding a resting place, but upon finding spiritual teaching.
- Neither was I running after food, for I had plenty of dried bread in my knapsack.
- "What sort of spiritual teaching are you wanting to get?" he asked me. "What is it
- puzzling you? Come now! Do come to our house, dear brother. We have startsi1 of
- ripe experience well able to give guidance to your soul and to set it upon the true
- path, in the light of the Word of God and the writings of the holy Fathers." "Well, it's
- like this, Father," said I. "About a year ago, while I was at the liturgy, I heard a
- passage from the Epistles which bade men to pray without ceasing. Failing to
- understand, I began to read my Bible, and there also in many places I found the
- divine command that we ought to pray at all times, in all places; not only while about
- our business, not only while awake, but even during sleep—'1 sleep, but my heart
- waketh.' This surprised me very much and I was at a loss to understand how it could
- be carried out and in what way it was to be done.
- A burning desire and thirst for knowledge awoke in me. Day and night the matter was
- never out of my mind. So I began to go to churches and to listen to sermons. But
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- however many I heard, from not one of them did I get any teaching about how to pray
- without ceasing. They always talked about getting ready for prayer, or about its fruits
- and the like, without teaching one how to pray without ceasing, or what such prayer
- means. 1 have often read the Bible and there made sure of what 1 have heard. But
- meanwhile I have not reached the understanding that I long for, and so to this hour I
- am still uneasy and in doubt."
- Then the old man crossed himself and spoke. "Thank God, my dear brother, for
- having revealed to you this unappeasable desire for unceasing interior prayer.
- Recognize in it the call of God, and calm yourself. Rest assured that what has
- hitherto been accomplished in you is the testing of the harmony of your own will with
- the voice of God. It has been granted to you to understand that the heavenly light of
- unceasing interior prayer is attained neither by the wisdom of this world, nor by the
- mere outward desire for knowledge, but that on the contrary it is found in poverty of
- spirit and in active experience in simplicity of heart. That is why it is not surprising
- that you have been unable to hear anything about the essential work of prayer, and
- to acquire the knowledge by which ceaseless activity in it is attained. Doubtless a
- great deal has been preached about prayer, and there is much about it in the
- teaching of various writers. But since for the most part all their reasonings are based
- upon speculation and the working of natural wisdom, and not upon active experience,
- they sermonize about the qualities of prayer rather than about the nature of the thing
- itself. One argues beautifully about the necessity of prayer, another about its power
- and the blessings which attend it, a third again about the things which lead to
- perfection in prayer, that is, about the absolute necessity of zeal, an attentive mind,
- warmth of heart, purity of thought, reconciliation with one's enemies, humility,
- contrition, and so on. But what is prayer? And how does one learn to pray? Upon
- these questions, primary and essential as they are, one very rarely gets any precise
- enlightenment from present-day preachers. For these questions are more difficult to
- understand than all their arguments that I have just spoken of, and they require
- mystical knowledge, not simply the learning of the schools. And the most deplorable
- thing of all is that the vain wisdom of the world compels them to apply the human
- standard to the divine. Many people reason quite the wrong way round about prayer,
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- thinking that good actions and all sorts of preliminary measures render us capable of
- prayer. But quite the reverse is the case; it is prayer which bears fruit in good works
- and all the virtues. Those who reason so take, incorrectly, the fruits and the results of
- prayer for the means of attaining it, and this is to depreciate the power of prayer. And
- it is quite contrary to Holy Scripture, for the Apostle Paul says, 'I exhort therefore that
- first of all supplications be made' (1 Tim. 2:1). The first thing laid down in the
- Apostle's words about prayer is that the work of prayer comes before everything else:
- '1 exhort therefore that first of all ... ' The Christian is bound to perform many good
- works, but before all else what he ought to do is to pray, for without prayer no other
- good work whatever can be accomplished. Without prayer he cannot find the way to
- the Lord, he cannot understand the truth, he cannot crucify the flesh with its passions
- and lusts, his heart cannot be enlightened with the light of Christ, he cannot be
- savingly united to God. None of those things can be effected unless they are
- preceded by constant prayer. I say 'constant,' for the perfection of prayer does not lie
- within our power; as the Apostle Paul says, 'For we know not what we should pray for
- as we ought' (Rom. 8:26). Consequently it is just to pray often, to pray always, which
- falls within our power as the means of attaining purity of prayer, which is the mother
- of all spiritual blessings. 'Capture the mother, and she will bring you the children,'
- said St. Isaac the Syrian. Learn first to acquire the power of prayer and you will easily
- practice all the other virtues. But those who know little of this from practical
- experience and the profoundest teaching of the holy Fathers have no clear
- knowledge of it and speak of it but little."
- During this talk, we had almost reached the monastery. And so as not to lose touch
- with this wise old man and to get what I wanted more quickly, I hastened to say, "Be
- so kind, reverend Father, as to show me what prayer without ceasing means and
- how it is learnt. I see you know all about these things."
- He took my request kindly and asked me into his cell. "Come in," said he. "I will
- give you a volume of the holy Fathers from which with God's help you can learn
- about prayer clearly and in detail."
- We went into his cell and he began to speak as follows. "The continuous interior
- prayer of Jesus is a constant uninterrupted calling upon the divine name of Jesus
- 7:
- with the lips, in the spirit, in the heart, while forming a mental picture of His constant
- presence, and imploring His grace, during every occupation, at all times, in all places,
- even during sleep. The appeal is couched in these terms, 'Lord Jesus Christ, have
- mercy on me.' One who accustoms himself to this appeal experiences as a result so
- deep a consolation and so great a need to offer the prayer always that he can no
- longer live without it, and it will continue to voice itself within him of its own accord.
- Now do you understand what prayer without ceasing is?"
- "Yes indeed, Father, and in God's name teach me how to gain the habit of it," I
- cried, filled with joy.
- "Read this book," he said. "It is called The Philokalia,1 and it contains the full and
- detailed science of constant interior prayer, set forth by twenty-five holy Fathers. The
- book is marked by a lofty wisdom and is so profitable to use that it is considered the
- foremost and best manual of the contemplative spiritual life. As the revered
- Nicephorus said, 'It leads one to salvation without labor and sweat.'"
- "Is it then more sublime and holy than the Bible?" I asked.
- "No, it is not that. But it contains clear explanations of what the Bible holds in
- secret and which cannot be easily grasped by our shortsighted understanding. I will
- give you an illustration. The sun is the greatest, the most resplendent, and the most
- wonderful of heavenly luminaries, but you cannot contemplate and examine it simply
- with unprotected eyes. You have to use a piece of artificial glass that is many millions
- of times smaller and darker than the sun. But through this little piece of glass you can
- examine the magnificent monarch of stars, delight in it, and endure its fiery rays. Holy
- Scripture also is a dazzling sun, and this book, The Philokalia, is the piece of glass
- which we use to enable us to contemplate the sun in its imperial splendor. Listen
- now: I am going to read you the sort of instruction it gives on unceasing interior
- prayer."
- He opened the book, found the instruction by St. Simeon the new theologian, and
- read: " 'Sit down alone and in silence. Lower your head, shut your eyes, breathe
- out gently, and imagine yourself looking into your own heart. Carry your mind, that is,
- your thoughts, from your head to your heart. As you breathe out, say "Lord Jesus
- Christ, have mercy on me." Say it moving your lips gently, or simply say it in your
- 8:
- mind. Try to put all other thoughts aside. Be calm, be patient, and repeat the process
- very frequently.'"
- The old man explained all this to me and illustrated its meaning. We went on reading
- from The Philokalia passages of St. Gregory of Sinai, St. Callistus, and St. Ignatius,
- and what we read from the book the starets explained in his own words. I listened
- closely and with great delight, fixed it in my memory, and tried as far as possible to
- remember every detail. In this way we spent the whole night together and went to
- matins without having slept at all.The starets sent me away with his blessing and told
- me that while learning the prayer I must always come back to him and tell him
- everything, making a very frank confession and report; for the inward process could
- not go on properly and successfully without the guidance of a teacher.
- In church I felt a glowing eagerness to take all the pains I could to learn unceasing
- interior prayer, and I prayed to God to come to my help. Then I began to wonder how
- I should manage to see my starets again for counsel or confession, since leave was
- not given to remain for more than three days in the monastery guesthouse, and there
- were no houses near. However, I learned that there was a village between two and
- three miles from the monastery. I went there to look for a place to live, and to my
- great happiness God showed me the thing I needed. A peasant hired me for the
- whole summer to look after his kitchen garden, and what is more gave me the use of
- a little thatched hut in it where I could live alone. God be praised! I had found a quiet
- place. And in this manner I took up my abode and began to learn interior prayer in
- the way I had been shown, and to go to see my starets from time to time.
- For a week, alone in my garden, I steadily set myself to learn to pray without ceasing
- exactly as the starets had explained. At first things seemed to go very well. But then it
- tired me very much. I felt lazy and bored and overwhelmingly sleepy, and a cloud of
- all sorts of other thoughts closed round me. I went in distress to my starets and told
- him the state I was in.
- 9
- He greeted me in a friendly way and said, "My dear brother, it is the attack of the
- world of darkness upon you. To that world, nothing is worse than heartfelt prayer on
- our part. And it is trying by every means to hinder you and to turn you aside from
- learning the prayer. But all the same the enemy does only what God sees fit to allow,
- and no more than is necessary for us. It would appear that you need a further testing
- of your humility, and that it is too soon, therefore, for your unmeasured zeal to
- approach the loftiest entrance to the heart. You might fall into spiritual covetousness.
- I will read you a little instruction from The Philokalia upon such cases."
- He turned to the teaching of Nicephorus and read, " 'If after a few attempts you do
- not succeed in reaching the realm of your heart in the way you have been taught, do
- what I am about to say, and by God's help you will find what you seek. The faculty of
- pronouncing words lies in the throat. Reject all other thoughts (you can do this if you
- will) and allow that faculty to repeat only the following words constantly, "Lord Jesus
- Christ, have mercy on me." Compel yourself to do it always. If you succeed for a
- time, then without a doubt your heart also will open to prayer. We know it from
- experience.'
- "There you have the teaching of the holy Fathers on such cases," said my starets,
- "and therefore you ought from today onward to carry out my directions with
- confidence, and repeat the prayer of Jesus as often as possible. Here is a rosary.
- Take it, and to start with say the prayer three thousand times a day. Whether you are
- standing or sitting, walking or lying down, continually repeat 'Lord Jesus Christ, have
- mercy on me.' Say it quietly and without hurry, but without fail exactly three thousand
- times a day without deliberately increasing or diminishing the number. God will help
- you and by this means you will reach also the unceasing activity of the heart." I gladly
- accepted this guidance and went home and began to carry out faithfully and exactly
- what my starets had bidden. For two days I found it rather difficult, but after that it
- became so easy and likeable, that as soon as I stopped, I felt a sort of need to go on
- saying the prayer of Jesus, and I did it freely and willingly, not forcing myself to it as
- before. I reported to my starets, and he bade me say the prayer six thousand times a
- day, saying, "Be calm, just try as faithfully as possible to carry out the set number of
- prayers. God will vouchsafe you His grace."
- 10:
- In my lonely hut I said the prayer of Jesus six thousand times a day for a whole
- week. I felt no anxiety. Taking no notice of any other thoughts however much they
- assailed me, I had but one object, to carry out my starets's bidding exactly. And what
- happened? I grew so used to my prayer that when I stopped for a single moment I
- felt, so to speak, as though something were missing, as though I had lost something.
- The very moment I started the prayer again, it went on easily and joyously. If I met
- anyone I had no wish to talk to him. All I wanted was to be alone and to say my
- prayer, so used to it had I become in a week.
- My starets had not seen me for ten days. On the eleventh day he came to see me
- himself, and I told him how things were going. He listened and said, "Now you have
- got used to the prayer. See that you preserve the habit and strengthen it. Waste no
- time, therefore, but make up your mind by God's help from today to say the prayer of
- Jesus twelve thousand times a day. Remain in your solitude, get up early, go to bed
- late, and come and ask advice of me every fortnight."
- I did as he bade me. The first day I scarcely succeeded in finishing my task of saying
- twelve thousand prayers by late evening. The second day I did it easily and
- contentedly. To begin with, this ceaseless saying of the prayer brought a certain
- amount of weariness, my tongue felt numbed, I had a stiff sort of feeling in my jaws, I
- had a feeling at first pleasant but afterward slightly painful in the roof of my mouth.
- The thumb of my left hand, with which I counted my beads, hurt a little. I felt a slight
- inflammation in the whole of that wrist, and even up to the elbow, which was not
- unpleasant. Moreover, all this aroused me, as it were, and urged me on to frequent
- saying of the prayer. For five days I did my set number of twelve thousand prayers,
- and as I formed the habit I found at the same time pleasure and satisfaction in it.
- Early one morning the prayer woke me up as it were. I started to say my usual
- morning prayers, but my tongue refused to say them easily or exactly. My whole
- desire was fixed upon one thing only—to say the prayer of Jesus, and as soon as I
- went on with it I was filled with joy and relief. It was as though my lips and my tongue
- 11
- pronounced the words entirely of themselves without any urging from me. I spent the
- whole day in a state of the greatest contentment. I felt as though I was cut off from
- everything else. I lived as though in another world, and I easily finished my twelve
- thousand prayers by the early evening. I felt very much like still going on with them,
- but I did not dare to go beyond the number my starets had set me. Every day
- following I went on in the same way with my calling on the name of Jesus Christ, and
- that with great readiness and liking. Then I went to see my starets and told him
- everything frankly and in detail.
- He heard me out and then said, "Be thankful to God that this desire for the prayer
- and this facility in it have been manifested in you. It is a natural consequence which
- follows constant effort and spiritual achievement. So a machine to the principal wheel
- of which one gives a drive works for a long while afterward by itself; but if it is to go
- on working still longer, one must oil it and give it another drive. Now you see with
- what admirable gifts God in His love for mankind has endowed even the bodily nature
- of man. You see what feelings can be produced even outside a state of grace in a
- soul which is sinful and with passions unsubdued, as you yourself have experienced.
- But how wonderful, how delightful, and how consoling a thing it is when God is
- pleased to grant the gift of self-acting spiritual prayer, and to cleanse the soul from all
- sensuality! It is a condition which is impossible to describe, and the discovery of this
- mystery of prayer is a foretaste on earth of the bliss of heaven. Such happiness is
- reserved for those who seek after God in the simplicity of a loving heart. Now I give
- you my permission to say your prayer as often as you wish and as often as you can.
- Try to devote every moment you are awake to the prayer, call on the name of Jesus
- Christ without counting the number of times, and submit yourself humbly to the will of
- God, looking to Him for help. I am sure He will not forsake you and that He will lead
- you into the right path."
- Under this guidance I spent the whole summer in ceaseless oral prayer to Jesus
- Christ, and I felt absolute peace in my soul. During sleep I often dreamed that I was
- saying the prayer. And during the day if I happened to meet anyone, all men without
- exception were as dear to me as if they had been my nearest relations. But I did not
- 12
- concern myself with them much. All my ideas were quite calmed of their own accord.
- I thought of nothing whatever but my prayer. My mind tended to listen to it, and my
- heart began of itself to feel at times a certain warmth and pleasure. If I happened to
- go to church, the lengthy service of the monastery seemed short to me and no longer
- wearied me as it had in time past. My lonely hut seemed like a splendid palace, and I
- knew not how to thank God for having sent to me, a lost sinner, so wholesome a
- guide and master.
- But I was not long to enjoy the teaching of my dear starets, who was so full of divine
- wisdom. He died at the end of the summer. Weeping freely I bade him farewell and
- thanked him for the fatherly teaching he had given my wretched self, and as a
- blessing and a keepsake I begged for the rosary with which he said his prayers.
- And so I was left alone. Summer came to an end and the kitchen garden was
- cleared. I had no longer anywhere to live. My peasant sent me away, giving me by
- way of wages two rubles, and filling up my bag with dried bread for my journey. Again
- I started off on my wanderings. But now I did not walk along as before, filled with
- care. The calling upon the name of Jesus Christ gladdened my way. Everybody was
- kind to me; it was as though everyone loved me.Then it occurred to me to wonder
- what I was to do with the money I had earned by my care of the kitchen garden. What
- good was it to me? Yet stay! I no longer had a starets; there was no one to go on
- teaching me. Why not buy The Philokalia and continue to learn from it more about
- interior prayer?
- I crossed myself and set off with my prayer. I came to a large town, where I asked for
- the book in all the shops. In the end I found it, but they asked me three rubles for it,
- and I had only two. I bargained for a long time, but the shopkeeper would not budge
- an inch. Finally he said, "Go to this church nearby, and speak to the churchwarden.
- He has a book like that, but it's a very old copy. Perhaps he will let you have it for two
- rubles." I went, and sure enough I found and bought for my two rubles a worn and old
- copy of The Philokalia. I was delighted with it. I mended my book as much as I could,
- 13
- I made a cover for it with a piece of cloth, and put it into my breast pocket with my
- Bible.
- And that is how I go about now, and ceaselessly repeat the prayer of Jesus, which is
- more precious and sweet to me than anything in the world. At times I do as much as
- forty-three or four miles a day and do not feel that I am walking at all. I am aware only
- of the fact that I am saying my prayer. When the bitter cold pierces me, I begin to say
- my prayer more earnestly, and I quickly get warm all over. When hunger begins to
- overcome me, I call more often on the name of Jesus, and I forget my wish for food.
- When I fall ill and get rheumatism in my back and legs, I fix my thoughts on the
- prayer and do not notice the pain. If anyone harms me I have only to think, "How
- sweet is the prayer of Jesus!" and the injury and the anger alike pass away and I
- forget it all. I have become a sort of half-conscious person. I have no cares and no
- interests. The fussy business of the world I would not give a glance to. The one thing
- I wish for is to be alone, and all by myself to pray, to pray without ceasing; and doing
- this, I am filled with joy. God knows what is happening to me! Of course, all this is
- sensuous, or as my departed starets said, an artificial state that follows naturally
- upon routine. But because of my unworthiness and stupidity I dare not venture yet to
- go on further and learn and make my own spiritual prayer within the depths of my
- heart. I await God's time. And in the meanwhile I rest my hope on the prayers of my
- departed starets. Thus, although I have not yet reached that ceaseless spiritual
- prayer which is self-acting in the heart, yet I thank God I do now understand the
- meaning of those words I heard in the Epistle—"Pray without ceasing."
- I WANDERED ABOUT for a long time in different districts, having for my fellow-
- traveler the prayer of Jesus, which heartened and consoled me in all my journeys, in
- all my meetings with other people, and in all the happenings of travel. But I came to
- feel at last that it would be better for me to stay in some one place, in order to be
- alone more often, so as to be able to keep by myself and study The Philokalia.
- Although I read it whenever I found shelter for the night or rested during the day, yet I
- greatly wished to go more and more deeply into it, and with faith and heartfelt prayer
- to learn from it teaching about the truth for the salvation of my soul.
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- However, in spite of all my wishes, I could nowhere find any work that I was able to
- do, for I had lost the use of my left arm when quite a child. Seeing that because of
- this I should not be able to get myself a fixed abode, I made up my mind to go into
- Siberia to the tomb of St. Innocent of Irkutsk. My idea was that in the forests and
- steppes of Siberia I should travel in greater silence and therefore in a way that was
- better for prayer and reading. And this journey I undertook, all the while saying my
- oral prayer without stopping.
- After no great lapse of time I had the feeling that the prayer had, so to speak, by its
- own action passed from my lips to my heart. That is to say, it seemed as though my
- heart in its ordinary beating began to say the words of the prayer within at each beat.
- Thus for example, one, "Lord," two, "Jesus," three, "Christ," and so on. I gave up
- saying the prayer with my lips. I simply listened carefully to what my heart was
- saying. It seemed as though my eyes looked right down into it; and I dwelt upon the
- words of my departed starets when he was telling me about this joy. Then I felt
- something like a slight pain in my heart, and in my thoughts so great a love for Jesus
- Christ that I pictured myself, if only I could see Him, throwing myself at His feet and
- not letting them go from my embrace, kissing them tenderly, and thanking Him with
- tears for having of His love and grace allowed me to find so great a consolation in His
- Name, me, His unworthy and sinful creature! Further there came into my heart a
- gracious warmth which spread through my whole breast. This moved me to a still
- closer reading of The Philokalia in order to test my feelings, and to make a thorough
- study of the business of secret prayer in the heart. For without such testing I was
- afraid of falling a victim to the mere charm of it, or of taking natural effects for the
- effects of grace, and of giving way to pride at my quick learning of the prayer. It was
- of this danger that I had heard my departed starets speak. For this reason I took to
- walking more by night and chose to spend my days reading The Philokalia sitting
- down under a tree in the forest. Ah! What wisdom, such as I had never known before,
- was shown me by this reading! Giving myself up to it I felt a delight which till then I
- had never been able to imagine. It is true that many places were still beyond the
- grasp of my dull mind. But my prayer in the heart brought with it the clearing up of
- 15:
- things I did not understand. Sometimes also, though very rarely, I saw my departed
- starets in a dream, and he threw light upon many things, and, most of all, guided my
- ignorant soul more and more toward humility.
- In this blissful state I passed more than two months of the summer. For the most part
- I went through the forests and along bypaths. When I came to a village I asked only
- for a bag of dried bread and a handful of salt. I filled my bark jar with water, and so on
- for another sixty miles or so.
- Toward the end of the summer temptation began to attack me, perhaps as a result of
- the sins on my wretched soul, perhaps as something needed in the spiritual life,
- perhaps as the best way of giving me teaching and experience. A clear case in point
- was the following. One day when I came out on to the main road as twilight was
- falling, two men with shaved heads who looked like a couple of soldiers came up to
- me. They demanded money. When I told them that I had not a farthing on me, they
- would not believe me, and shouted insolently, "You're lying, pilgrims always pick up
- lots of money."
- "What's the good of arguing with him!" said one of them, and gave me such a blow
- on the head with his oak cudgel that I dropped senseless. I do not know whether I
- remained senseless long, but when I came to I found myself lying in the forest by the
- roadside, robbed. My knapsack had gone; all that was left of it were the cords from
- which it hung, which they had cut. Thank God they had not stolen my passport, which
- I carried in my old fur cap so as to be able to show it as quickly as possible on
- demand. I got up weeping bitterly, not so much on account of the pain in my head as
- for the loss of my books, the Bible and The Philokalia, which were in the stolen
- knapsack.
- Day and night I did not cease to weep and lament. Where was it now, my Bible which
- I had always carried with me, and which I had always read from my youth onward?
- Where was my Philokalia, from which I had gained so much teaching and
- consolation? Oh unhappy me, to have lost the first and last treasures of my life
- 16:
- before having had my fill of them! It would have been better to be killed outright than
- to live without this spiritual food. For I should never be able to replace the books now.
- For two days I just dragged myself along, I was so crushed by the weight of my
- misfortune. On the third I quite reached the end of my strength, and dropping down in
- the shelter of a bush I fell asleep. And then I had a dream. I was back at the
- monastery in the cell of my starets, deploring my loss. The old man was trying to
- comfort me. He said, "Let this be a lesson to you in detachment from earthly things,
- for your better advance toward heaven. This has been allowed to happen to you to
- save you from falling into the mere enjoyment of spiritual things. God would have the
- Christian absolutely renounce all his desires and delights and attachments, and to
- submit himself entirely to His divine will. He orders every event for the help and
- salvation of man; 'He willeth that all men should be saved.' Take courage then and
- believe that God 'will with the temptation provide also a way of escape' (1 Cor.
- 10:13). Soon you will be rejoicing much more than you are now distressed." At these
- words I awoke, feeling my strength come back to me and 'I my soul full of light and
- peace. "God's will be done," I said. I crossed myself, got up, and went on my way.
- The prayer again began to be active in my heart, as before, and for three days I went
- along in peace.
- All at once I came upon a body of convicts with their military escort. When I came up
- to them I recognized the two men who had robbed me. They were in the outside file,
- and so I fell at their feet and earnestly begged them to tell me what they had done
- with my books. At first they paid no heed to me, but in the end one of them said, "If
- you will give us something we will tell you where your books are. Give us a ruble." I
- swore to them that even if I had to beg the ruble from someone for the love of God, I
- would certainly give it to them, and by way of pledge I offered them my passport.
- Then they told me that my books were in the wagons which followed the prisoners,
- among all the other stolen things they were found with.
- "How can I get them?"
- "Ask the officer in charge of us."
- I hurried to the officer and told him the whole story.
- 17:
- "Can you really read the Bible?" he asked me.
- "Yes," I answered, "not only can I read everything, but what is more, I can write
- too. You will see a signature in the Bible which shows it is mine, and here is my
- passport showing the same name and surname."
- He then told me that the rascals who had robbed me were deserters living in a
- mud hut in the forest and that they had plundered many people, but that a clever
- driver whose troika they had tried to steal had captured them the day before. "All
- right," he added, "I will give you your books back if they are there, but you come with
- us as far as our halting place for the night; it is only a little over two miles. Then I
- need not stop the whole convoy and the wagons just for your sake." I agreed to this
- gladly, and as I walked along at his horse's side, we began to talk.
- I saw that he was a kindly and honest fellow and no longer young. He asked me
- who I was, where I came from, and where I was going. I answered all his questions
- without hiding anything, and so we reached the house which marked the end of the
- day's march. He found my books and gave them back to me, saying, "Where are you
- going, now night has come on? Stay here and sleep in my anteroom." So I stayed.
- Now that I had my books again, I was so glad that I did not know how to thank God. I
- clasped the books to my breast and held them there so long that my hands got quite
- numbed. I shed tears of joy, and my heart beat with delight. The officer watched me
- and said, "You must love reading your Bible very much!" But such was my joy that I
- could not answer him, I could only weep. Then he went on to say, "I also read the
- Gospel regularly every day, brother." He produced a small copy of the Gospels,
- printed in Kiev and bound in silver, saying, "Sit down, and I will tell you how it came
- about.
- "Hullo there, let us have some supper," he shouted.
- We drew up to the table and the officer began his story.
- "Ever since I was a young man I have been with the army in the field and not on
- garrison service. I knew my job, and my superior officers liked me for a conscientious
- second lieutenant. Still, I was young, and so were my friends. Unhappily I took to
- 18:
- drink, and drunkenness became a regular passion with me. So long as I kept away
- from drink, I was a good officer, but when I gave way to it, I was no good for anything
- for six weeks at a time. They bore with me for a long while,' but the end of it was that
- after being thoroughly rude while drunk to my commanding officer, I was cashiered
- and transferred to a garrison as a private soldier for three years. I was threatened
- with a still more severe punishment if I did not give up drinking and mend my ways.
- Even in this miserable state of affairs, however much I tried, I could not regain my
- self-control nor cure myself. I found it impossible to get rid of my passion for drink,
- and it was decided to send me to a disciplinary corps. When I was informed of this I
- was at my wits' end. I was in barracks occupied with my wretched thoughts when
- there arrived a monk who was going round collecting for a church. We each of us
- gave him what we could. "He came up to me and asked me why I was so unhappy,
- and I talked to him and told him my troubles. He sympathized with me and said, 'The
- same thing happened to my own brother, and what do you think helped him? His
- spiritual father gave him a copy of the Gospels with strict orders to read a chapter
- without a moment's delay every time he felt a longing for wine coming over him. If the
- desire continued he was to read a second chapter, and so on. That is what my
- brother did, and at the end of a very short time his drunkenness came to an end. It is
- now fifteen years since he touched a drop of alcohol. You do the same, and you will
- see how that will help you. I have a copy of the Gospels which you must let me bring
- you.' "I listened to him, and then I said, 'How can your Gospels help me since all
- efforts of my own and all the medical treatment have failed to stop me drinking?' I
- talked in that way because I had as yet never been in the habit of reading the
- Gospels. 'Don't say that,' replied the monk, 'I assure you that it will be a help.' As a
- matter of fact, the next day he brought me this very copy. I opened it, took a glance,
- and said, 'I cannot accept it. I am not used to Church Slavonic and don't understand
- it.' But the monk went on to assure me that in the very words of the gospel there lay a
- gracious power, for in them was written what God Himself had spoken. 'It does not
- matter very much if at first you do not understand; go on reading diligently. A monk
- once said, "If you do not understand the Word of God, the devils understand what
- you are reading, and tremble," and your.drunkenness is certainly the work of devils.
- And here is another thing I will tell you. St. John Chrysostom writes that even a room
- 19
- in which a copy of the Gospels is kept holds the spirits of darkness at bay and
- becomes an unpromising field for their wiles.' "I forget what I gave the monk. But I
- bought his book of the Gospels, put it away in a trunk with my other things, and forgot
- it. Some while afterward a bout of drunkenness threatened me. An irresistible desire
- for drink drove me hurriedly to open my trunk to get some money and rush off to the
- public house. But the first thing my eyes fell on was the copy of the Gospels, and all
- that the monk had said came back vividly to my mind. I opened the book and began
- to read the first chapter of St. Matthew. I got to the end of it without understanding a
- word. Still I remembered that the monk had said, 'No matter if you do not understand,
- go on reading diligently.' 'Come,' said I, 'I must read the second chapter.' I did so and
- began to understand a little. So I started on the third chapter and then the barracks
- bell began to ring; everyone had to go to bed, no one was allowed to go out, and I
- had to stay where I was. When I got up in the morning I was just on the point of going
- out to get some wine when I suddenly thought—supposing I were to read another
- chapter? What would be the result? I read it and I did not go to the public house.
- Again I felt the craving, and again I read a chapter. I felt a certain amount of relief.
- This encouraged me, and from that time on, whenever I felt the need of drink, I used
- to read a chapter of the Gospels. What is more, as time went on things got better and
- better, and by the time I had finished all four Gospels my drunkenness was
- absolutely a thing of the past, and I felt nothing but disgust for it. It is just twenty
- years now since I drank a drop of alcohol.
- "Everybody was astonished at the change brought about in me. Some three years
- later my commission was restored to me. In due course I was promoted, and finally
- got my majority. I married; I am blessed with a good wife, we have made a position
- for ourselves, and so, thank God, we go on living our life. As far as we can, we help
- the poor and give hospitality to pilgrims. Why, now I have a son who is an officer and
- a first-rate fellow. And mark this—since the time when I was cured of drunkenness, I
- have lived under a vow to read the Gospels every single day of my life, one whole
- Gospel in every twenty- four hours, and I let nothing whatever hinder me. I do this
- still. If I am exceedingly pressed with business and unusually tired, I lie down and get
- my wife or my son to read the whole of one of the evangelists to me, and so avoid
- breaking my rule. By way of thanksgiving and for the glory of God I have had this
- 20:
- book of the Gospels mounted in pure silver, and I always carry it in my breast
- pocket."
- I listened with great joy to this story of his. "I also have come across a case of the
- same sort," I told him.
- "At the factory in our village there was a craftsman, very skillful at his job, and a
- good, kindly fellow. Unhappily, however, he also drank, and very often at that. A
- certain God-fearing man advised him, when the desire for drink seized him, to repeat
- the prayer of Jesus thirty- three times in honor of the Holy Trinity, and in memory of
- the thirty-three years of the earthly life of Jesus Christ. He took his advice and started
- to carry it out, and very soon he quite gave up drinking. And, what is more, three
- years later he went into a monastery."
- "And which is the best," he asked, "the prayer of Jesus, or the Gospels?"
- "It's all one and the same thing," I answered. "What the Gospel is, that the prayer
- of Jesus is also, for the Divine Name of Jesus Christ holds in itself the whole
- Gospel truth. The holy Fathers say that the prayer of Jesus is a summary of the
- Gospels." After our talk we said prayers, and the major began to read the Gospel of
- St. Mark from the beginning, and I listened and said the prayer in my heart. At two
- o'clock in the morning he came to the end of the gospel, and we parted and went to
- bed.
- As usual I got up early in the morning. Everyone was still asleep. As soon as it began
- to get light, I eagerly seized my beloved Philokalia. With what gladness I opened it! I
- might have been getting a glimpse of my own father coming back from a far country,
- or of a friend risen from the dead. I kissed it and thanked God for giving it me back
- again. I began at once to read Theolept of Philadelphia, in the second part of the
- book. His teaching surprised me when he lays down that one and the same person at
- one and the same time should do three quite different things. "Seated at table," he
- says, "supply your body with food, your ear with reading, and your mind with prayer."
- But the memory of the very happy evening the day before really gave me from my
- own experience the meaning of this thought. And here also the secret was revealed
- to me that the mind and the heart are not one and the same thing.
- 21
- As soon as the major rose I went to thank him for his kindness and to say good-bye.
- He gave me tea and a ruble and bade me farewell. I set off again feeling very happy.
- I had gone over half a mile when I remembered I had promised the soldiers a ruble,
- and that now this ruble had come to me in a quite unlooked-for way. Should I give it
- to them or not? At first I thought: they beat you and they robbed you; moreover this
- money will be of no use to them whatever, since they are under arrest. But afterward
- other thoughts came to me. Remember it is written in the Bible, "If thine enemy
- hunger, feed him," and Jesus Christ himself said, "Love your enemies," "And if any
- man will take away thy coat let him have thy cloak also." That settled it for me. I went
- back, and just as I got to the house all the convicts came out to start on the next
- stage of their march. I went quickly up to my two soldiers, handed them my ruble and
- said, "Repent and pray! Jesus Christ loves men; he will not forsake you." And with
- that I left them and went on my way.
- After doing some thirty miles along the main road I thought I would take a bypath so
- that I might be more by myself and read more quietly. For a long while I walked
- through the heart of the forest, and but rarely came upon a village. At times I passed
- almost the whole day sitting under the trees and carefully reading The Philokalia,
- from which I gained a surprising amount of knowledge. My heart kindled with desire
- for union with God by means of interior prayer, and I was eager to learn it under the
- guidance and control of my book. At the same time I felt sad that I had no dwelling
- where I could give myself up quietly to reading all the while. During this time I read
- my Bible also, and I felt that I began to understand it more clearly than before, when I
- had failed to understand many things in it and had often been a prey to doubts. The
- holy Fathers were right when they said that The Philokalia is a key to the mysteries of
- holy Scripture. With the help it gave me I began to some extent to understand the
- hidden meaning of the Word of God. I began to see the meaning of such sayings as
- "the inner secret man of the heart," "true prayer worships in the spirit," "the kingdom
- is within us," "the intercession of the Holy Spirit with groanings that cannot be
- uttered," "abide in me," "give me thy heart," "to put on Christ," "the betrothal of the
- Spirit to our hearts," the cry from the depths of the heart, "Abba, Father," and so on.
- And when with all this in mind I prayed with my heart, everything around me seemed
- 22
- delightful and marvelous. The trees, the grass, the birds, the earth, the air, the light
- seemed to be telling me that they existed for man's sake, that they witnessed to the
- love of God for man, that everything proved the love of God for man, that all things
- prayed to God and sang His praise. Thus it was that I came to understand what The
- Philokalia calls "the knowledge of the speech of all creatures," and I saw the means
- by which converse could be held with God's creatures. In this way I wandered about
- for a long while, coming at length to so lonely a district that for three days I came
- upon no village at all. My supply of dried bread was used up, and I began to be very
- much cast down at the thought I might die of hunger. I began to pray my hardest in
- the depths of my heart. All my fears went, and I entrusted myself to the will of God.
- My peace of mind came back to me, and I was in good spirits again. When I had
- gone a little further along the road, which here skirted a huge forest, I caught sight of
- a dog that came out of it and ran along in front of me. I called it, and it came up to me
- with a great show of friendliness. I was glad, and I thought, Here is another case of
- God's goodness! No doubt there is a flock grazing in the forest and this dog belongs
- to the shepherd. Or perhaps somebody is shooting in the neighborhood. Whichever it
- is I shall be able to beg a piece of bread if nothing more, for I have eaten nothing for
- twenty-four hours. Or at least I shall be able to find out where the nearest village is.
- After jumping around me for some little time and seeing that I was not going to give
- him anything, the dog trotted back into the forest along the narrow footpath by which
- he had come out. I followed, and a few hundred yards further on, looking between
- the trees, I saw him run into a hole, from which he looked out and began to bark. At
- the same time a thin and pale middle-aged peasant came into view from behind a
- great tree. He asked me where I came from, and for my part I wanted to know how
- he came to be there, and so we started a friendly talk.
- He took me into his mud hut and told me that he was a forester and that he looked
- after this particular wood, which had been sold for felling. He set bread and salt
- before me, and we began to talk. "How I envy you," said I, "being able to live so
- nicely alone in this quiet instead of being like me! I wander from place to place and
- rub along with all sorts of people."
- 23
- "You can stop here too, if you like," he answered. "The old forester's hut is quite
- near here. It is half ruined, but still quite fit to live in in summer. I suppose you have
- your passport. As far as bread goes, we shall always have plenty of that—it is
- brought to me every week from my village. This spring here never dries up. For my
- part, brother, I have eaten nothing but bread and have drunk nothing but water for
- the last ten years. This is how things stand. When autumn comes and the peasants
- have ended their work on the land, some two hundred workmen will be coming to cut
- down this wood. Then I shall have no further business here, and you will not be
- allowed to stay either."
- As I listened to all this I all but fell at his feet, I felt so pleased. I did not know how
- to thank God for such goodness. In this unlooked-for way my greatest wish was to be
- granted me. There were still over four months before next autumn; during all that time
- I could enjoy the silence and peace needed for a close reading of The Philokalia in
- order to study and learn ceaseless prayer in the heart. So I very gladly stayed there,
- to live during that time in the hut he showed me.I talked further with this simple
- brother who gave me shelter, and he told me about his life and his ideas. "I had quite
- a good position in the life of our village," said he. "I had a workshop where I dyed
- fustian and linen, and I lived comfortably enough, though not without sin. I often
- cheated in business, I was a false swearer, I was abusive, I used to drink and
- quarrel. In our village there was an old dyachok3 who had a very old book on the Last
- Judgment. He used to go from house to house and read from it, and he was paid
- something for doing so. He came to me too. Give him threepence and a glass of wine
- into the bargain and he would go on reading all night till cockcrow. There I would sit
- at my work and listen while he read about the torments that await us in hell. I heard
- how the living will be changed and the dead raised, how God will come down to
- judge the world, how the angels will sound the trumpets. I heard of the fire and pitch,
- and of the worm which will devour sinners. One day as I listened I was seized with
- horror, and I said to myself, What if these torments come upon me? I will set to work
- to save my soul. It may be that by prayer I can avoid the results of my sins. I thought
- about this for a long time. Then I gave up my work, sold my house, and as I was
- alone in the world, I got a place as forester here and all I ask of my mir4 is bread,
- clothes, and some candles for my prayers. I have been living like this for over ten
- 24:
- years now. I eat only once a day and then nothing but bread and water. I get up at
- cockcrow, make my devotions, and say my prayers before the holy icons with seven
- candles burning. When I make my rounds in the forest during the day, I wear iron
- chains weighing sixty pounds next my skin. I never grumble, drink neither wine nor
- beer, I never quarrel with anybody at all, and I have had nothing to do with women
- and girls all my life. At first this sort of life pleased me, but lately other thoughts have
- come into my mind, and I cannot get away from them. God only knows if I shall be
- able to pray my sins away in this fashion, and it's a hard life. And is everything written
- in that book true? How can a dead man rise again? Supposing he has been dead
- over a hundred years and not even his ashes are left? Who knows if there is really a
- hell or not? What more is known of a man after he dies and rots? Perhaps the book
- was written by priests and masters to make us poor fools afraid and keep us quiet.
- What if we plague ourselves for nothing and give up all our pleasure in vain?
- Suppose there is no such thing as another life, what then? Isn't it better to enjoy
- one's earthly life, and take it easily and happily? Ideas of this kind often worry me,
- and I don't know but what I shall not some day go back to my old work."
- I heard him with pity. They say, I thought, that it is only the learned and the clever
- who are free thinkers and believe in nothing! Yet here is one of ourselves, even a
- simple peasant, a prey to such unbelief. The kingdom of darkness throws open its
- gates to everyone, it seems, and maybe attacks the simpleminded most easily.
- Therefore one must learn wisdom and strengthen oneself with the Word of God as
- much as possible against the enemy of the soul.
- So with the object of helping this brother and doing all I could to strengthen his faith, I
- took The Philokalia out of my knapsack. Turning to the 109th chapter of Isikhi, I read
- it to him. I set out to prove to him the use- lessness and vanity of avoiding sin merely
- from fear of the tortures of hell. I told him that the soul could be freed from sinful
- thoughts only by guarding the mind and cleansing the heart, and that this could be
- done by interior prayer. I added that according to the holy Fathers, one who performs
- saving works simply from the fear of hell follows the way of bondage, and he who
- does the same just in order to be rewarded with the kingdom of heaven follows the
- 25:
- path of a bargainer with God. The one they call a slave, the other a hireling. But God
- wants us to come to Him as sons to their Father; He wants us to behave ourselves
- honorably from love for Him and zeal for His service; He wants us to find our
- happiness in uniting ourselves with Him in a saving union of mind and heart.
- "However much you spend yourself on treating your body hardly," I said, "you will
- never find peace of mind that way, and unless you have God in your mind and the
- ceaseless prayer of Jesus in your heart, you will always be likely to fall back into sin
- for the very slightest reason. Set to work, my brother, upon the ceaseless saying of
- the prayer of Jesus. You have such a good chance of doing so here in this lonely
- place, and in a short while you will see the gain of it. No godless thoughts will then be
- able to get at you, and the true faith and love for Jesus Christ will be shown to you.
- You will then understand how the dead will be raised, and you will see the Last
- Judgment in its true light. The prayer will make you feel such lightness and such bliss
- in your heart that you will be astonished at it yourself, and your wholesome way of life
- will be neither dull nor troublesome to you."
- Then I went on to explain to him as well as I could how to begin, and how to go on
- ceaselessly with the prayer of Jesus, and how the Word of God and the writings of
- the holy Fathers teach us about it. He agreed with it all and seemed to me to be
- calmer.
- Then I left him and shut myself up in the hut which he had shown me. Ah! How
- delighted I was, how calmly happy when I crossed the threshold of that lonely retreat,
- or rather, that tomb! It seemed to me like a magnificent palace filled with every
- consolation and delight. With tears of rapture I gave thanks to God and said to
- myself, Here in this peace and quietude I must seriously set to work at my task and
- beseech God to give me light. So I started by reading through The Philokalia again
- with great care, from beginning to end. Before long I had read the whole of it, and I
- saw how much wisdom, holiness, and depth of insight there was in this book. Still, so
- many matters were dealt with in it, and it contained such a lot of lessons from the
- holy Fathers, that I could not very well grasp it all and take in as a single whole what
- was said about interior prayer. And this was what I chiefly wanted to know, so as to
- learn from it how to practice ceaseless self-acting prayer in the heart.
- 26:
- This was my great desire, following the divine command in the Apostle's words,
- "Covet earnestly the best gifts," and again, "Quench not the Spirit." I thought over the
- matter for a long time. What was to be done? My mind and my understanding were
- not equal to the task, and there was no one to explain. I made up my mind to besiege
- God with prayer. Maybe He would make me understand somehow. For twenty-four
- hours I did nothing but pray without stopping for a single moment. At last my thoughts
- were calmed, and I fell asleep. And then I dreamed that I was in my departed starets'
- cell and that he was explaining The Philokalia to me. "The holy book is full of
- profound wisdom," he was saying. "It is a secret treasury of the meaning of the
- hidden judgments of God. It is not everywhere and to everyone that it is
- accessible, but it does give to each such guidance as he needs: to the wise, wise
- guidance, to the simpleminded, simple guidance. That is why you simple folk should
- not read the chapters one after the other as they are arranged in the book. That order
- is for those who are instructed in theology. Those who are uninstructed, but who
- nevertheless desire to learn interior prayer from this book, should take things in this
- order. First of all, read through the book of Nicephorus the monk (in part two), then
- the whole book of Gregory of Sinai, except the short chapters, Simeon the new
- theologian on the three forms of prayer and his discourse on faith, and after that the
- book of Callistus and Ignatius. In these Fathers there are full directions and teaching
- on interior prayer of the heart, in a form which everyone can understand.
- "And if, in addition, you want to find a very understandable instruction on prayer,
- turn to part four and find the summarized pattern of prayer by the most holy Callistus,
- patriarch of Constantinople."
- In my dream I held the book in my hands and began to look for this passage, but I
- was quite unable to find it. Then he turned over a few pages himself and said, "Here
- it is, I will mark it for you." He picked up a piece of charcoal from the ground and
- made a mark in the margin, against the passage he had found. I listened to him with
- care and tried to fix in my mind everything he said, word for word. When I woke up it
- was still dark. I lay still and in thought went over my dream and all that my starets had
- said to me. "God knows," thought I, "whether it is really the spirit of my departed
- starets that I have seen, or whether it is only the outcome of my own thoughts,
- 27:
- because they are so often taken up with The Philokalia and my starets." With this
- doubt in my mind I got up, for day was beginning to break, and what did I see? There
- on the stone which served as a table in my hut lay the book open at the very page
- which my starets had pointed out to me, and in the margin, a charcoal mark just as in
- my dream! Even the piece of charcoal itself was lying beside the book! I looked in
- astonishment, for I remembered clearly that the book was not there the evening
- before, that it had been put, shut, under my pillow, and also I was quite certain that
- before there had been nothing where now I saw the charcoal mark.
- It was this which made me sure of the truth of my dream, and that my revered master
- of blessed memory was pleasing to God. I set about reading The Philokalia in the
- exact order he had bidden. I read it once, and again a second time, and this reading
- kindled in my soul a zealous desire to make what I had read a matter of practical
- experience. I saw clearly what interior prayer means, how it is to be reached, what
- the fruits of it are, how it filled one's heart and soul with delight, and how one could
- tell whether that delight comes from God, from nature, or from temptation.
- So I began by searching out my heart in the way Simeon the new theologian
- teaches. With my eyes shut I gazed in thought, that is, in imagination, upon my heart.
- I tried to picture it there in the left side of my breast and to listen carefully to its
- beating. I started doing this several times a day, for half an hour at a time, and at first
- I felt nothing but a sense of darkness. But little by little after a fairly short time I was
- able to picture my heart and to note its movement, and further with the help of my
- breathing I could put into it and draw from it the prayer of Jesus in the manner taught
- by the saints, Gregory of Sinai, Callistus, and Ignatius. When drawing the air in I
- looked in spirit into my heart and said, "Lord Jesus Christ," and when breathing out
- again, I said, "Have mercy on me." I did this at first for an hour at a time, then for two
- hours, then for as long as I could, and in the end almost all day long. If any difficulty
- arose, if sloth or doubt came upon me, I hastened to take up The Philokalia and read
- again those parts which dealt with the work of the heart, and then once more I felt
- ardor and zeal for the prayer.
- 28:
- When about three weeks had passed I felt a pain in my heart, and then a most
- delightful warmth, as well as consolation and peace. This aroused me still more and
- spurred me on more and more to give great care to the saying of the prayer so that
- all my thoughts were taken up with it and I felt a very great joy. From this time I
- began to have from time to time a number of different feelings in my heart and mind.
- Sometimes my heart would feel as though it were bubbling with joy; such lightness,
- freedom, and consolation were in it. Sometimes I felt a burning love for Jesus Christ
- and for all God's creatures. Sometimes my eyes brimmed over with tears of
- thankfulness to God, who was so merciful to me, a wretched sinner. Sometimes my
- understanding, which had been so stupid before, was given so much light that I could
- easily grasp and dwell upon matters of which up to now I had not been able even to
- think at all. Sometimes that sense of a warm gladness in my heart spread throughout
- my whole being and I was deeply moved as the fact of the presence of God
- everywhere was brought home to me. Sometimes by calling upon the name of Jesus
- I was overwhelmed with bliss, and now I knew the meaning of the words "The
- kingdom of God is within you."
- From having all these and other like feelings I noted that interior prayer bears fruit in
- three ways: in the spirit, in the feelings, and in revelations. In the first, for instance, is
- the sweetness of the love of God, inward peace, gladness of mind, purity of thought,
- and the sweet remembrance of God. In the second, the pleasant warmth of the heart,
- fullness of delight in all one's limbs, the joyous "bubbling" in the heart, lightness and
- courage, the joy of living, power not to feel sickness and sorrow. And in the last, light
- given to the mind, understanding of holy Scripture, knowledge of the speech of
- created things, freedom from fuss and vanity, knowledge of the joy of the inner life,
- and finally certainty of the nearness of God and of His love for us.
- After spending five months in this lonely life of prayer and such happiness as this, I
- grew so used to the prayer that I went on with it all the time. In the end I felt it going
- on of its own accord within my mind and in the depths of my heart, without any urging
- on my part. Not only when I was awake, but even during sleep, just the same thing
- went on. Nothing broke into it, and it never stopped even for a single moment,
- 29
- whatever I might be doing. My soul was always giving thanks to God and my heart
- melted away with unceasing happiness.
- The time came for the wood to be felled. People began to come along in crowds, and
- I had to leave my quiet dwelling. I thanked the forester, said some prayers, kissed the
- bit of the earth which God had deigned to give me, unworthy of His mercy as I was,
- shouldered my bag of books, and set off.
- For a very long while I wandered about in different places until I reached Irkutsk. The
- self-acting prayer in my heart was a comfort and consolation all the way; whatever I
- met with it never ceased to gladden me, though it did so to different degrees at
- different times. Wherever I was, whatever I did or gave myself up to, it never
- hindered things, nor was hindered by them. If I am working at anything the prayer
- goes on by itself in my heart, and the work gets on faster. If I am listening carefully to
- anything, or reading, the prayer never stops; at one and the same time I am aware of
- both just as if I were made into two people, or as if there were two souls in my one
- body. Lord! what a mysterious thing man is! "How manifold are thy works, O Lord! In
- wisdom hast thou made them all."
- All sorts of things and many strange adventures happened to me as I went on my
- way. If I were to start telling them all, I should not end in twenty-four hours. Thus, for
- example, one winter evening as I was going alone through the forest toward a village
- which I could see about a mile away, and where I was to spend the night, a great wolf
- suddenly came in sight and made for me. I had in my hand my starets's woolen
- rosary, which I always carried with me. I struck at the animal with that. Well, the
- rosary was torn out of my hands and got twisted round the wolf's neck. He leapt away
- from me, but in jumping through a thorn bush he got his hind paws caught. The
- rosary also caught on a bough of a dead tree and he began dashing himself about,
- but he could not free himself because the rosary was tightening round his throat. I
- crossed myself in faith and went forward to free him, chiefly because I was afraid that
- if he tore my rosary away and ran off with it, I should lose my precious rosary. And
- sure enough, as soon as I got hold of the rosary the wolf snapped it and fled without
- 30:
- leaving a trace. I thanked God, with my blessed starets in mind, and I came safe and
- sound to the village, where I asked for a night's lodging at an inn.
- I went into the house. Two men, one of them old and the other middle-aged and
- heavily built, were sitting at a table in a corner drinking tea. They looked as though
- they were not just simple folk, and I asked the peasant who was with their horses
- who they were. He told me that the elder of the two was a teacher at an elementary
- school, and the other the clerk of the county court. They were both people of the
- better class. He was driving them to a fair about a dozen miles away. After sitting a
- while, I asked the hostess to lend me a needle and thread, came over into the
- candlelight, and set about mending my broken rosary.
- The clerk watched what I was doing and said, "I suppose you have been praying so
- hard that your rosary broke?"
- "It was not I who broke it," I answered, "it was a wolf."
- "What! A wolf? Do wolves say their prayers, too?" said he jokingly. I told them all
- that had happened, and how precious the rosary was to me. The clerk laughed
- again, saying, "Miracles are always happening with you sham saints! What was there
- sacred about a thing like that? The simple fact was that you brandished something at
- the wolf and he was frightened and went off. Of course, dogs and wolves take fright
- at the gesture of throwing, and getting caught on a tree is common enough. That sort
- of thing very often happens. Where is the miracle?"
- But the old man answered him thus: "Do not jump to conclusions like that, sir. You
- miss the deeper aspects of the incident. For my part I see in this peasant's story the
- mystery of nature, both sensuous and spiritual."
- "How's that?" asked the clerk.
- "Well, like this. Although you have not received the highest education, you have,
- of course, learned the sacred history of the Old and New Testaments, as
- summarized in the questions and answers used at school. You remember that when
- our father Adam was still in a state of holy innocence all the animals were obedient to
- him. They approached him in fear and received from him their names. The old man to
- whom this rosary belonged was a saint. Now what is the meaning of sanctity? For the
- 31
- sinner it means nothing else than a return through effort and discipline to the state of
- innocence of the first man. When the soul is made holy the body becomes holy also.
- The rosary had always been in the hands of a sanctified person; the effect of the
- contact of his hands and the exhalation of his body was to inoculate it with holy
- power—the power of the first man's innocence. That is the mystery of spiritual nature!
- All animals in natural succession down to the present time have experienced this
- power, and they experience it through smelling, for in all animals the nose is the chief
- organ of sensation. That is the mystery of sensuous nature!"
- "You learned people go on about strength and wisdom," said the clerk, "but we
- take things more simply. Fill up a glass of vodka and tip it off; that will give you
- strength enough." And he went over to the cupboard.
- "That's your business," said the schoolmaster, "but please leave learning to us!"
- I liked the way he spoke, and I came up closer to him and said, "May I venture,
- Father, to tell you a little more about my starets?" And so I told him about the
- appearance of my starets while I was asleep, the teaching he had given me, and the
- charcoal mark which he had made in The Philokalia. He listened with care to what I
- told him, but the clerk, who lay stretched out on a bench, muttered, "It's true enough
- you can lose your wits through reading the Bible too much. That's what it is! Do you
- suppose a bogeyman comes and marks your books at night? You simply let the book
- drop on the ground yourself while you were asleep, and some soot made a dirty mark
- on it. There's your miracle! Eh, you tricksters, I've come across plenty of your
- kidney!" Muttering this sort of thing, the clerk rolled over with his face to the wall and
- went to sleep. So I turned to the schoolmaster, saying, "If I may, I will show you the
- actual book. Look, it is really marked, not just dirtied with soot." I took it out of my
- knapsack and showed him. "What surprises me," said I, "is how a spirit without a
- body could have picked up a piece of charcoal and written with it." He looked at the
- mark and said, "This also is a spiritual mystery. I will explain it to you. Look here now,
- when spirits appear in a bodily form to a living person, they compose themselves a
- body which can be felt, from the air and the world-stuff, and later on give back to the
- elements again what they had borrowed from them. Just as the atmosphere
- possesses elasticity, a power to contract and expand, so the soul, clothed in it, can
- take up anything, and act, and write. But what is this book of yours? Let me have a
- 32
- look at it." He began to look at it and it opened at the sermons of St. Simeon the new
- theologian. "Ah, this must be a theological work. I have never seen it before," he said.
- "It is almost wholly made up," I told him, "of teaching on interior prayer of the
- heart in the name of Jesus Christ. It is set forth here in full detail by twenty-five holy
- Fathers."
- "Ah, I know something of interior prayer," he answered.
- I bowed before him, down to the very ground, and begged him to speak to me
- about interior prayer.
- "Well, it says in the New Testament that man and all creation 'are subject to
- vanity, not willingly,' and sigh with effort and desire to enter into the liberty of the
- children of God. The mysterious sighing of creation, the innate aspiration of every
- soul toward God, that is exactly what interior prayer is. There is no need to learn it, it
- is innate in every one of us!" "But what is one to do to find it in oneself, to feel it in
- one's heart, to acknowledge it by one's will, to take it and feel the happiness and light
- of it, and so to reach salvation?" I asked.
- "I don't know whether there is anything on the subject in theological books," said
- he.
- "Well, here it is. It is all explained here," I answered, showing him my book again.
- The schoolmaster noted the title and said he would certainly have one sent from
- Tobolsk and study it. After that we went our different ways. I thanked God for this talk
- with the schoolmaster and prayed that God would so order things that the clerk also
- might read The Philokalia, even if only once, and let him find salvation through it.
- Another time—it was in spring—I passed through a village where I stayed with the
- priest. He was a worthy man, living alone, and I spent three days with him. Having
- watched me for that length of time, he said to me, "Stay here. I will pay you
- something. I need a trustworthy man; as you see, we are starting to build a stone
- church here near the old wooden chapel, and I have been looking for some honest
- person to keep an eye on the workmen and stay in the chapel in charge of the
- offerings for the building fund. It is exactly the thing for you and would just suit your
- way of life. You will be alone in the chapel and say your prayers. There is a quiet little
- room for a verger there. Please stay, at any rate until the building is finished."
- 33
- For a long while I refused, but in the end I had to yield to the good priest's
- begging, and I stayed there till the autumn, taking up my abode in the chapel. At first
- I found it quiet and apt for prayer, although a great many people came to the chapel,
- especially on holidays, some to say their prayers, some because they were bored,
- and others again with the idea of pilfering from the collection plate. I read my Bible
- and my Philokalia every evening, and some of them saw this and started talking to
- me about it or asked me to read aloud.
- After a while I noticed that a young village girl often came to the chapel and spent
- a long while in prayer. Listening to her whisperings, I found that the prayers she was
- saying were some of them strange to me, and others the usual prayers in a garbled
- form. I asked her where she learned such things, and she told me it was from her
- mother, who was a churchwoman, but that her father belonged to a sect which had
- no priesthood. Feeling sorry for her, I advised her to read her prayers in the right form
- as given by the tradition of holy church. Then I taught her the right wording of the
- Lord's Prayer and of the Hail Mary, and finally I advised her to say the prayer of
- Jesus as often as she could, for that brought one nearer to God than any other
- prayer. The girl took note of what I said and set about it quite simply. And what
- happened? A short time afterward she told me that she was so used to the prayer
- that she felt it draw her all the time, that she used it as much as she could, that she
- enjoyed the prayer at the time, and that afterward she was filled with gladness and a
- wish to begin using it again. I was glad of this and advised her to go on with it more
- and more.
- Summer was drawing to a close. Many visitors to the chapel came to see me
- also, not only to be read to and to ask for advice, but with all sorts of worldly troubles,
- and even to ask about things they had mislaid or lost. Some of them seemed to take
- me for a wizard. The girl I spoke about also came to me one day in a state of great
- distress and worry, not knowing what to do. Her father wanted to make her marry a
- man of his own religion, and they were to be married not by a priest but by a mere
- peasant belonging to the same sect. "How could that be a lawful marriage—wouldn't
- it be the same thing as fornication?" cried the girl. She had made up her mind to run
- away somewhere or other.
- 34:
- "But," said I, "where to? They would be sure to find you again. They will look
- everywhere, and you won't be able to hide anywhere from them. You had better pray
- earnestly to God to turn your father from his purpose and to guard your soul from sin
- and heresy. That is a much sounder plan than running away."
- Thus time passed away, and all this noise and fuss began to be more than I could
- bear, and at last at the end of summer I made up my mind to leave the chapel and go
- on with my pilgrimage as before. I told the priest what was in my mind, saying, "You
- know my plans, Father. I must have quiet for prayer, and here it is very disturbing and
- bad for me, and I have spent the whole summer here. Now let me go, and give your
- blessing on my lonely journey."
- But the priest did not want to let me go and tried to get me to stay. "What is there
- to hinder your praying here? Your work is nothing to speak of, beyond stopping in the
- chapel. You have your daily bread. Say your prayers then all day and all night if you
- like, and live with God. You are useful here, you don't go in for silly gossip with the
- people who come here, you are a source of profit to the church. All that is worth more
- in God's sight than your prayers all by yourself. Why do you always want to be
- alone? Common prayer is pleasanter. God did not create man to think of himself
- only, but that men should help each other and lead each other along the path to
- salvation, each according to his strength. Think of the saints and the fathers of the
- church! They bustled about day and night, they cared for the needs of the church,
- they used to preach all over the place. They didn't sit down alone and hide
- themselves from people."
- "Everyone has his own gift from God," I answered. "There have been many
- preachers, Father, but there have also been many hermits. Everyone does what he
- can, as he sees his own path, with the thought that God Himself shows him the way
- of his salvation. How do you get over the fact that many of the saints gave up their
- positions as bishops or priests or the rule of a monastery and went into the desert to
- get away from the fuss which comes from living with other people? St. Isaac the
- Syrian, for instance, fled from the flock whose bishop he was, and the venerable
- Athanasius of Athos left his large monastery just because to them these places were
- a source of temptation, and they sincerely believed our Lord's saying, 'What shall it
- profit a man if he gains the whole world and lose his own soul?'"
- 35:
- "Ah, but they were saints," said the priest.
- "And if," I answered, "the very saints took steps to guard themselves from the
- dangers of mingling with people, what else, I ask you, can a feeble sinner do?"
- So in the end I said good-bye to this good priest, and he, out of the love in his
- heart, set me on my way.
- Some half-dozen miles farther on, I stopped for the night at a village. At the inn
- there I found a peasant hopelessly ill, and I advised those who were with him to see
- that he had the last sacraments. They agreed, and toward morning sent for the parish
- priest. I stayed there too, because I wanted to worship and pray in the presence of
- the holy gifts, and going out into the street, sat down on the zavalina5 to wait for the
- priest to come. All at once I was astonished to see running toward me from the
- backyard the girl who used to pray in the chapel.
- "What brings you here?" I asked.
- "They had fixed the day of my betrothal to the man I told you of, so I left them." And
- kneeling before me she went on. "Have pity on me: take me with you and put me into
- some convent or other. I don't want to be married, I want to live in a convent and say
- the Jesus Prayer. They will listen to you and take me."
- "Goodness!" I exclaimed, "And where am I to take you to? I don't know a single
- convent in this neighborhood. Besides, I can't take you anywhere without a passport.
- For one thing, you wouldn't be taken in anywhere, and for another it would be quite
- impossible for you to hide nowadays. You would be caught at once and sent home
- again and punished as a tramp into the bargain. You had far better go home and say
- your prayers there. And if you don't want to marry, make out you are ill. The holy
- mother Clementa did that, and so did the venerable Marina when she took refuge in
- a men's convent. There are many other cases of the same thing. It is called a saving
- pretense."
- While all this was happening and we sat talking the matter over, we saw four men
- driving up the road with a pair of horses and coming straight toward us at a gallop.
- They seized the girl and put her in the cart, and one of them drove off with her. The
- other three tied my hands together and haled me back to the village where I had
- spent the summer. Their only reply to everything I said for myself was to shout, "We'll
- teach the little saint to seduce young girls!"
- 36:
- That evening they brought me to the village court, put my feet in irons, and lodged
- me in jail to await my trial in the morning. The priest heard that I was in prison and
- came to see me. He brought me some supper and comforted me, saying that he
- would do what he could for me and give his word as a spiritual father that I was not
- the sort of person they thought. After sitting with me for a while he went away.
- The magistrate came late in the evening, driving through the village on his way to
- somewhere else, and stopped at the deputy's house, where they told him what hat
- happened. He bade the peasants come together, and had me brought to the house
- which was used as a court. We went in and stood waiting. In comes the magistrate,
- blustering, and sits down on the table with his hat on. "Hi! Epiphan," he shouts, "did
- the girl, this daughter of yours, run off with anything from your house?"
- "No, sir, nothing," was the answer.
- "Has she been found out doing anything wrong with that fool there?"
- "No, sir."
- "Well then, this is my decision and my judgment in the matter: you deal with your
- daughter yourself, and as for this fellow we will teach him a lesson tomorrow and
- throw him out of the village, with strict orders never to show his face here again. So
- that's that."
- So saying, he got down from the table and went off to bed, while I was taken back
- to jail. Early in the morning two country policemen came, flogged me, and drove me
- out of the village. I went off thanking God that He counted me worthy to suffer for His
- name. This comforted me and gave still more warmth and glow to my ceaseless
- interior prayer. None of these things made me feel at all cast down. It was as though
- they happened to someone else and I merely watched them. Even the flogging was
- within my power to bear. The prayer brought sweetness into my heart and made me
- unaware, so to speak, of everything else.
- A mile or two farther on I met the girl's mother, coming home from market with
- what she had bought.
- Seeing me, she told me that the son-in-law to be had withdrawn his suit. "You see,
- he is annoyed with Akulka for having run away from him." Then she gave me some
- bread and patties, and I went on my way.
- 37:
- The weather was fine and dry and I had no wish to spend the night in a village. So
- when I came upon two fenced-in haystacks as I went through the forest that evening,
- I lay down beneath them for a night's lodging. I fell asleep and dreamed that I was
- walking along and reading a chapter of St. Anthony the Great from The Philokalia.
- Suddenly my starets overtook me and said, "Don't read that, read this," and pointed
- to these words in the thirty- fifth chapter of St. John Karpathisky: "A teacher submits
- at times to ignominy and endures pain for the sake of his spiritual children." And
- again he made me note in the forty-first chapter, "Those who give themselves most
- earnestly to prayer, it is they who become the prey of terrible and violent
- temptations." Then he said, "Take courage and do not be downcast. Remember the
- Apostle's words, 'Greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world.' You see that
- you have now had experience of the truth that no temptation is beyond man's
- strength to resist, and that with the temptation God makes also a way of escape.
- Reliance upon this divine help has strengthened holy men of prayer and led them on
- to greater zeal and ardor. They not only devoted their own lives to ceaseless prayer,
- but also out of the love of their hearts revealed it and taught it to others as
- opportunity occurred. St. Gregory of Thessalonika speaks of this as follows: 'Not only
- should we ourselves in accordance with God's will pray unceasingly in the name of
- Jesus Christ, but we are bound to reveal it and teach it to others, to everyone in
- general, religious and secular, learned and simple, men, women, and children, and to
- inspire them all with zeal for prayer without ceasing.' In the same way the venerable
- Callistus Telicudes says, 'One ought not to keep thoughts about God (i.e., interior
- prayer) and what is learned by contemplation, and the means of raising the soul on
- high, simply in one's own mind, but one should make notes of it, put it into writing for
- general use and with a loving motive.' And the Scriptures say in this connection,
- 'Brother is helped by brother like a strong and lofty city' (Prov. 18:19). Only in this
- case it is above all things necessary to avoid self-praise and to take care that the
- seed of divine teaching is not sown to the wind."
- I woke up feeling great joy in my heart and strength in my soul, and I went on my
- way.
- A long while after this something else happened, which also I will tell you about if
- you like. One day—it was the 24th of March to be exact—I felt a very urgent wish to
- 38:
- make my communion the next day—that is, on the feast of the annunciation of our
- Lady. I asked whether the church was far away and was told it was about twenty
- miles. So I walked for the rest of that day and all the next night in order to get there in
- time for matins. The weather was as bad as it could be—it snowed and rained, there
- was a strong wind, and it was very cold. On my way I had to cross a small stream,
- and just as I got to the middle the ice gave way under my feet and I was plunged into
- the water up to my waist. Drenched like this, I came to matins and stood through it,
- and also through the liturgy which followed, and at which by God's grace I made my
- communion. In order to spend the day quietly and without spoiling my spiritual
- happiness, I begged the verger to allow me to stay in his little room until the next
- morning. I was more happy than I can tell all that day, and my heart was full of joy. I
- lay on the plank bed in that unheated room as though I were resting on Abraham's
- bosom. The prayer was very active. The love of Jesus Christ and of the Mother of
- God seemed to surge into my heart in waves of sweetness and steep my soul in
- consolation and triumph. At nightfall I was seized with violent rheumatic pains in my
- legs, and that brought to my mind that they were soaking wet. I took no notice of it
- and set my heart the more to my prayer, so that I no longer felt the pain. In the
- morning when I wanted to get up I found that I could not move my legs. They were
- quite paralyzed and as feeble as bits of string. The verger dragged me down off the
- bed by main force. And so there I sat for two days without moving. On the third day
- the verger set about turning me out of his room, "for," said he, "supposing you die
- here, what a fuss there will be!" With the greatest of difficulty I somehow or other
- crawled along on my arms and dragged myself to the steps of the church, and lay
- there. And there I stayed like that for a couple of days. The people who went by
- passed me without taking the slightest notice either of me or of my pleadings. In the
- end a peasant came up to me and sat down and talked. And after a while he asked,
- "What will you give me if I cure you? I had just exactly the same thing once, so I
- know a medicine for it."
- "I have nothing to give you," I answered.
- "But what have you got in your bag?"
- "Only dried bread and some books."
- "Well, what about working for me just for one summer, if I cure you?"
- 39
- "I can't do any work; as you see, I have only the use of one arm, the other is
- almost entirely withered."
- "Then what can you do?"
- "Nothing, beyond the fact that I can read and write."
- "Ah! write! Well, teach my little boy to write. He can read a little, and I want him to be
- able to write too. But it costs such a lot—they want twenty rubles to teach him."
- I agreed to this, and with the verger's help he carried me away and put me in an
- old empty bathhouse in his backyard.
- Then he set about curing me. And this was his method: He picked up from the floors,
- the yards, the cesspools, the best part of a bushel of various sorts of putrid bones,
- bones of cattle, of birds—all sorts. He washed them, broke them up small with a
- stone, and put them into a great earthen pot. This he covered with a lid which had a
- small hole in it and placed upside down on an empty jar sunk in the ground. He
- smeared the upper pot with a thick coating of clay, and making a pile of wood round
- it, he set fire to this and kept it burning for more than twenty-four hours, saying as he
- fed the fire, "Now we'll get some tar from the bones." Next day, when he took the
- lower jar out of the ground, there had dripped into it through the hole in the lid of the
- other jar about a pint of thick, reddish, oily liquid, with a strong smell, like living raw
- meat. As for the bones left in the jar, from being black and putrid they had become
- white and clean and transparent like mother-of-pearl. I rubbed my legs with this liquid
- five times a day. And lo and behold, twenty-four hours later I found I could move my
- toes; another day and I could bend my legs and straighten them again. On the fifth
- day I stood on my feet, and with the help of a stick walked about the yard. In a word,
- in a week's time my legs had become fully as strong as they were before. I thanked
- God and mused upon the mysterious power which He has given His creatures. Dry,
- putrid bones, almost brought to dust, yet keeping such vital force, color, smell, power
- of acting on living bodies, and as it were giving life to bodies that are half dead! It is a
- pledge of the future resurrection of the body. How I would like to point this out to that
- forester with whom I lived, in view of his doubts about the general resurrection!
- Having in this way got better from my illness, I began to teach the boy. Instead of
- the usual copybook work, he wrote out the prayer of Jesus. I made him copy it,
- 40:
- showing him how to set out the words nicely. I found teaching the lad restful, for
- during the daytime he worked for the steward of an estate nearby and could only
- come to me while the steward slept, that is, from daybreak till the liturgy.
- He was a bright boy and soon began to write fairly well. His employer saw him
- writing and asked him who had taught him.
- "A one-armed pilgrim who lives in our old bathhouse," said the boy.
- The steward, who was a Pole, was interested, and came to have a look at me. He
- found me reading The Philokalia and started a talk by asking what I was reading. I
- showed him the book. "Ah," said he, "that's The Philokalia. I've seen the book before
- at our priest's6 when I lived at Vilna. They tell me, however, that it contains odd sorts
- of schemes and tricks for prayer written down by the Greek monks. It's like those
- fanatics in India and Bokhara who sit down and blow themselves out trying to get a
- sort of tickling in their hearts, and in their stupidity take this bodily feeling for prayer,
- and look upon it as the gift of God. All that is necessary to fulfill one's duty to God is
- to pray simply, to stand and say the Our Father as Christ taught us. That puts you
- right for the whole day; but not to go on over and over again to the same tune. That,
- if I may say so, is enough to drive you mad. Besides, it's bad for your heart."
- "Don't think in that way about this holy book, sir," I answered. "It was not written
- by simple Greek monks, but by great and very holy men of olden times, men whom
- your church honors also, such as Anthony the Great, Macarius the Great, Mark the
- spiritual athlete, John Chrysostom, and others. It was from them that the monks of
- India and Bokhara took over the 'heart method' of interior prayer, only they quite
- spoiled and garbled it in doing so, as my starets explained to me. In The Philokalia all
- the teaching about the practice of prayer in the heart is taken from the Word of God,
- from the Holy Bible, in which the same Jesus Christ who bade us say the Our Father
- taught also ceaseless prayer in the heart. For He said, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy
- God with all thy heart and with all thy mind,' 'Watch and pray,' Abide in Me and I in
- you.' And the holy Fathers, calling to witness the holy King David's words in the
- Psalms, 'O taste and see how gracious the Lord is,' explain the passage thus: the
- Christian man ought to use every possible means of seeking and finding, delight in
- prayer and ceaselessly to look for consolation in it, and not be content with simply
- saying 'Our Father' once a day. Let me read to you how these saints blame those
- 41
- who do not strive to reach the gladness of the prayer of the heart. They write that
- such do wrong for three reasons: firstly, because they show themselves against the
- Scriptures inspired by God, and secondly, because they do not set before
- themselves a higher and more perfect state of soul to be reached. They are content
- with outward virtues only, and cannot hunger and thirst for the truth, and therefore
- miss the blessedness and joy in the Lord. Thirdly, because by letting their mind dwell
- upon themselves and their own outward virtues they often slip into temptation and
- pride, and so fall away."
- "It is sublime, what you are reading," said the steward, "but it's hardly for us
- ordinary layfolk, I think!"
- "Well, I will read you something simpler, about how people of goodwill, even if
- living in the world, may learn how to pray without ceasing."
- I found the sermon on George the youth, by Simeon the new theologian, and read
- it to him from The Philokalia.
- This pleased him, and he said, "Give me that book to read at my leisure, and I will
- have a good look into it some time."
- "I will let you have it for twenty-four hours with pleasure," I answered, "but not for
- longer, because I read it every day, and I just can't live without it."
- "Well then, at least copy out for me what you have just read. I will pay you for your
- trouble."
- "I don't want payment," said I. "I will write that out for you for love's sake and in
- the hope that God will give you a longing for prayer."
- I at once and with pleasure made a copy of the sermon I had read. He read it to
- his wife, and both of them were pleased with it. And so it came about that at times
- they would send for me, and I would go, taking The Philokalia with me, and read to
- them while they sat drinking tea and listening. Once they asked me to stay to dinner.
- The steward's wife, who was a kindly old lady, was sitting with us at table eating
- some fried fish when by some mischance she got a bone lodged in her throat.
- Nothing we could do gave her any relief, and nothing would move the bone. Her
- throat gave her so much pain that a couple of hours later she had to go and lie down.
- The doctor (who lived twenty miles away) was sent for, and as by this time it was
- evening, I went home, feeling very sorry for her.
- 42
- That night, while I was sleeping lightly, I heard my starets's voice. I saw no figure, but
- I heard him say to me, "The man you are living with cured you, why then do you not
- help the steward's wife? God has bidden us feel for our neighbor."
- "I would help her gladly," I answered, "but how? I know no means whatever."
- "Well, this is what you must do: From her very earliest years she has had a dislike
- of oil. She not only will not taste it, but cannot bear even the smell of it without being
- sick. So make her drink a spoonful of oil. It will make her vomit, the bone will come
- away, the oil will soothe the sore the bone has made in her throat, and she will be
- well again."
- "And how am I to give it her, if she dislikes it so? She will refuse to drink it."
- "Get the steward to hold her head, and pour it suddenly into her mouth, even if
- you have to use force."
- I woke up, and went straight off and told the steward all this in detail. "What good
- can your oil do now?" said he. "She is hoarse and delirious, and her neck is all
- swollen."
- "Well, at any rate, let us try; even if it doesn't help, oil is at least harmless as a
- medicine."
- He poured some into a wineglass, and somehow or other we got her to swallow it.
- She was violently sick at once, and soon vomited up the bone and some blood. She
- began to feel easier and fell into a deep sleep. In the morning I went to ask after her
- and found her sitting quietly taking her tea. Both she and her husband were full of
- wonder at the way she had been cured, and even greater than that was their surprise
- that her dislike of oil had been told me in a dream, for apart from themselves, not a
- soul knew of the fact. Just then the doctor also drove up, and the steward told him
- what had happened to his wife, and I in my turn told him how the peasant had cured
- my legs. The doctor listened to it all and then said, "Neither the one case nor the
- other is greatly to be wondered at—it is the same natural force which operated in
- both cases. Still, I shall make a note of it." And he took out a pencil and wrote in his
- notebook.
- After this the report quickly spread through the whole neighborhood that I was a
- prophet and a doctor and wizard. There began a ceaseless stream of visitors from all
- 43
- parts to bring their affairs and their troubles to my notice. They brought me presents
- and began to treat me with respect and to look after my comfort. I bore this for a
- week, and then, fearing I should fall into vainglory and harmful distractions, I left the
- place in secret by night.
- Thus once more I set out on my lonely way, feeling as light as if a great weight
- had been taken off my shoulders. The prayer comforted me more and more, so that
- at times my heart bubbled over with boundless love for Jesus Christ, and from my
- delight in this, streams of consolation seemed to flow through my whole being. The
- remembrance of Jesus Christ was so stamped upon my mind that as I dwelt upon the
- Gospel story I seemed to see its events before my very eyes. I was moved even to
- tears of joy, and sometimes felt such gladness in my heart that I am at a loss even
- how to tell of it.
- It happened at times that for three days together I came upon no human dwelling,
- and in the uplifting of my spirit I felt as though I were alone on the earth, one
- wretched sinner before the merciful and man-loving God. This sense of being alone
- was a comfort to me, and it made me feel my delight in prayer much more than when
- I was mixing with a crowd of people.
- At length I reached Irkutsk. When I had prayed before the relics of St. Innocent, I
- began to wonder where I should go now. I did not want to stay there for a long while,
- it was a town in which many people lived. I was walking thoughtfully along the street
- when I came upon a certain merchant belonging to the place. He stopped me,
- saying, "Are you a pilgrim? Why not come home with me?" We went off together and
- he took me into his richly furnished house and asked me about myself. I told him all
- about my travels, and then he said, "You ought to go on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem—
- there are shrines there the like of which are not to be found anywhere else!"
- "I should be only too glad to do so," I answered, "but I haven't the money. I can
- get along on dry land till I come to the sea, but I have no means of paying for a sea
- voyage, and it takes a good deal of money."
- "How would you like me to find the money for you? I have already sent one of our
- townsfolk there, an old man, last year," said the merchant.
- I fell at his feet, and he went on to say, "Listen, I will give you a letter to my son at
- Odessa. He lives there and has business connections with Constantinople. He will be
- 44:
- pleased to give you a passage on one of the vessels to Constantinople, and to tell his
- agents there to book a passage to Jerusalem for you on another boat, and pay for it.
- That is not so very expensive."
- I was overcome with joy when I heard this and thanked my benefactor for his
- kindness. Even more did I thank God for showing me such fatherly love, and for His
- care for me, a wretched sinner, who did no good either to himself or to anyone else,
- and ate the bread of others in idleness. I stayed three days with this kindly merchant.
- As he had promised, he wrote me a letter to his son, so here I am now on my way to
- Odessa planning to go on till I reach Jerusalem. But I do not know whether the Lord
- will allow me to venerate His life-giving tomb.
- JUST BEFORE leaving Irkutsk, I went to see my spiritual father, with whom I had so
- often talked, and I said to him, "Here I am actually off to Jerusalem. I have come to
- say good-bye, and to thank you for your love for me in Christ, unworthy pilgrim as I
- am."
- "May God bless your journey," he replied. "But how is it that you have never told
- me about yourself, who you are, nor where you come from? I have heard a great deal
- about your travels, and I should be interested to know something about your birth
- and your life before you became a pilgrim."
- "Why, very gladly," I answered. "I will tell you all about that also. It's not a very
- lengthy matter.
- "I was born in a village in the government of Orel. After the death of our parents,
- there were just the two of us left, my brother and I. He was ten years old and I was
- two. We were adopted by our grandfather, a worthy old man and comfortably off. He
- kept an inn which stood on the main road, and thanks to his sheer goodness of heart
- a lot of travelers put up there. My brother, who was a madcap child, spent most of his
- time running about in the village, but for my part I liked better to stay near my
- grandfather. On Sundays and festivals we used to go to church together, and at
- home my grandfather often used to read the Bible, this very Bible here, which now
- belongs to me. When my brother grew up he took to drink. Once when I was seven
- years old and we were both of us lying down on the stove, he pushed me so hard
- that I fell off and hurt my left arm, so that I have never been able to use it since; it is
- 45:
- all withered up. My grandfather saw that I should never be fit to work on the land and
- taught me to read. As we had no spelling book, he did so from this Bible. He pointed
- out the A's, and made me form words and learn to know the letters when I saw them.
- I scarcely know how myself, but somehow, by saying things after him over and over
- again, I learned to read in the course of time. And later on, when my grandfather's
- sight grew weak, he often made me read the Bible aloud to him, and he corrected me
- as he listened. There was a certain clerk who often came to our inn. He wrote a good
- hand and I liked watching him write. I copied his writing, and he began to teach me.
- He gave me paper and ink, he made me quill pens, and so I learned to write also.
- Grandfather was very pleased and charged me thus, 'God has granted you the gift of
- learning; it will make a man of you. Give thanks to God, and pray very often.'
- "We used to attend all the services at church and we often had prayers at home.
- It was always my part to read the fifty-first psalm, and while I did so grandfather and
- grandmother made their prostrations or knelt. When I was seventeen I lost my
- grandmother. Then grandfather said to me, 'This house of ours no longer has a
- mistress, and that is not well. Your brother is a worthless fellow. I am going to look for
- a wife for you; you must get married.' I was against the idea, saying that I was a
- cripple, but my grandfather would not give way. He found a worthy and sensible
- young girl about twenty years of age, and I married her. A year later my grandfather
- fell very ill. Knowing that his death was near, he called for me and bade me farewell,
- saying, 'I leave you my house and all I have. Obey your conscience, deceive no one,
- and above all pray to God; everything comes from Him. Trust in Him only. Go to
- church regularly, read your Bible, and remember me and your grandmother in your
- prayers. Here is my money, that also I give you; there is a thousand rubles. Take
- care of it. Do not waste it, but do not be miserly either; give some of it to the poor and
- to God's church.' After this he died, and I buried him.
- "My brother grew envious because the property had been left wholly to me. His
- anger against me grew, and the enemy prompted him in this to such an extent that
- he even laid plans to kill me. In the end this is what he did one night while we were
- asleep and no guests were in the house. He broke into the room where the money
- was kept, stole the money from a chest, and then set fire to the room. The fire had
- got a hold upon the whole building before we knew of it, and we only just escaped by
- 46:
- jumping out of a window in our nightclothes. The Bible was lying under our pillow, so
- we snatched it up and took it with us. As we watched our house burning we said to
- one another, 'Thank God, the Bible is saved, that at least is some consolation in our
- grief.' So everything we had was burnt, and my brother went off without a trace. Later
- on we heard that when he was in his cups he boasted of the fact that he had taken
- the money and burnt the house.
- "We were left naked and ruined, absolutely beggars. We borrowed some money
- as best we could, built a little hut, and took up the life of landless peasants. My wife
- was clever with her hands. She knitted, spun, and sewed. People gave her jobs, and
- day and night she worked and kept me. Owing to the uselessness of my arm I could
- not even make bark shoes. She would do her knitting and spinning, and I would sit
- beside her and read the Bible. She would listen and sometimes begin to cry. When I
- asked, 'What are you crying about? At least we are alive, thank God!' she would
- answer, 'It touches me so, that beautiful writing in the Bible.'
- "Remembering what my grandfather had bidden us, we often fasted, every
- morning we said the Acathist of Our Lady, and at night we each made a thousand
- prostrations to avoid falling into temptation. Thus we lived quietly enough for two
- years. But this is what is so surprising—although we had no understanding of interior
- prayer offered in the heart and indeed had never heard of it, but prayed with the
- tongue only, and made our prostrations without thought like buffoons turning
- somersaults, yet in spite of all this the wish for prayer was there, and the long prayers
- we said without understanding did not seem tiring; indeed we liked them. Clearly it is
- true, as a certain teacher once told me, that a secret prayer lies hidden within the
- human heart. The man himself does not know it, yet working mysteriously within his
- soul, it urges him to prayer according to each man's knowledge and power.
- "After two years of this sort of life that we were leading, my wife was taken
- suddenly ill with a high fever. She was given her communion and on the ninth day of
- her illness she died. I was now left entirely alone in the world. There was no sort of
- work that I could do; still I had to live, and it went against my conscience to beg.
- Besides that, I felt such grief at the loss of my wife that I did not know what to do with
- myself. When I happened to go into our little hut and caught sight of her clothes or
- perhaps a scarf, I burst into tears and even fell down senseless. So feeling I could no
- 47:
- longer bear my grief living at home, I sold the hut for twenty rubles, and such clothes
- as there were of my own and my wife's I gave away to the poor. Because of my
- crippled arm I was given a passport which set me free once for all from public duties,
- and taking my beloved Bible I set straight off, without caring or thinking where I was
- going.
- "But after a while I began to think where I would go and said to myself, 'First of all
- I will go to Kiev. I will venerate the shrines of those who were pleasing to God, and
- ask for their help in my trouble.' As soon as I had made up my mind to this I began to
- feel better, and, a good deal comforted, I made my way to Kiev. Since that time, for
- the last thirteen years that is, I have gone on wandering from place to place. I have
- made the rounds of many churches and monasteries, but nowadays I am taking more
- and more to wandering over the steppes and fields. I do not know whether God will
- vouchsafe to let me go to Jerusalem. If it be His will, when the time comes my sinful
- bones may be laid to rest there."
- "And how old are you?"
- "Thirty-three."
- "Well, dear brother, you have reached the age of our Lord Jesus Christ!"
- "But it is good for me to hold me fast by God, to put my trust in the Lord God."
- "The russian proverb is true, which says that 'man proposes but God disposes,'" said
- I, as I came back again to my spiritual father. "I thought that by now I should certainly
- be on my way to Jerusalem. But see how differently things have fallen out.
- Something quite unlooked for has happened and kept me in the same place here for
- another three days. And I could not help coming to tell you about it and to ask your
- advice in making up my mind about the matter.
- "It happened like this. I had said good-bye to everybody, and with God's help
- started on my way. I had gotten as far as the outskirts of the town when I saw a man I
- knew standing at the door of the very last house. He was at one time a pilgrim like
- me, but I had not seen him for about three years. We greeted one another and he
- asked me where I was going.
- " 'God willing,' I answered, 'I want to go to Jerusalem.'
- " 'Thank God! There is a nice fellow-traveler for you,' he said.
- 48:
- " 'God be with you, and with him too,' said I, 'but surely you know that it is never
- my way to travel with other people. I always wander about alone.'
- " 'Yes, but listen. I feel sure that this one is just your sort; you will suit each other
- down to the ground. Now, look here, the father of the master of this house, where I
- have been taken on as a servant, is going under a vow to Jerusalem, and you will
- easily get used to each other. He belongs to this town, he's a good old man, and
- what's more he is quite deaf. So much so that however much you shout, he can't
- hear a word. If you want to ask him anything you have to write it on a bit of paper,
- and then he answers. So you see he won't bore you on the road; he won't speak to
- you; even at home here he grows more and more silent. On the other hand you will
- be a great help to him on the way. His son is giving him a horse and cart, which he
- will take as far as Odessa and then sell there. The old man wants to go on foot, but
- the horse is going as well because he has a bit of luggage, and some things he is
- taking to the Lord's tomb. And you can put your knapsack in with them too, of course.
- Now just think, how can we possibly send an old deaf man off with a horse, all by
- himself on such a long journey? They have searched and searched for somebody to
- take him, but they all want to be paid such a lot; besides, there's a risk in sending him
- with someone we don't know, for he has money and belongings with him. Say "Yes,"
- brother, it will really be all right; make up your mind now for the glory of God and the
- love of your neighbor. I will vouch for you to his people, and they will be too pleased
- for words; they are kindly folk and very fond of me. I've been working for them for two
- years now.'
- "All this talk had taken place at the door, and he now took me into the house. The
- head of the household was there, and I saw clearly that they were quite a worthy and
- decent family. So I agreed to the plan. So now we have arranged to start with God's
- blessing, after hearing the liturgy two days after Christmas. What unexpected things
- we meet with on life's journey! Yet all the while, God and His Holy Providence guide
- our actions and overrule our plans, as it is written, 'It is God which worketh in you
- both to will and to do.'"
- On hearing all this, my spiritual father said, "I rejoice with all my heart, dear
- brother, that God has so ordered it that I should see you again, so unexpectedly and
- so soon. And since you now have time, I want, in all love, to keep you a little longer,
- 49:
- and you shall tell me more about the instructive experiences you have met with in the
- course of your long pilgrimages. I have already listened with great pleasure and
- interest to what you told me before."
- "I am quite ready and happy to do that," I answered, and I began as follows:
- "A great many things have happened to me, some good and some bad. It would
- take a long while to tell of them all, and much I have already forgotten. For I have
- tried especially to remember only such matters as guided and urged my idle soul to
- prayer. All the rest I rarely remember; or rather I have tried to forget the past, as St.
- Paul bids us when he says, 'Forgetting the things that are behind and stretching
- forward to the things that are before, I press on toward the goal of the prize of the
- high calling.' My late starets of blessed memory also used to say that the forces
- which are against prayer in the heart attack us from two sides, from the left hand and
- from the right. That is to say, if the enemy cannot turn us from prayer by means of
- vain thoughts and sinful ideas, then he brings back into our minds good things we
- have been taught, and fills us with beautiful ideas, so that one way or another he may
- lure us away from prayer, which is a thing he cannot bear. It is called 'a theft from the
- right- hand side,' and in it the soul, putting aside its converse with God, turns to the
- satisfaction of converse with self or with created things. He taught me, therefore, not
- to admit during times of prayer even the most lofty of spiritual thoughts. And if I saw
- that in the course of the day, time had been spent more in improving thought and talk
- than in the actual hidden prayer of the heart, then I was to think of it as a loss of the
- sense of proportion, or a sign of spiritual greed. This is above all true, he said, in the
- case of beginners, for whom it is most needful that time given to prayer should be
- very much more than that taken up by other sides of the devout life.
- "Still one cannot forget everything. A matter may have printed itself so deeply in
- one's mind that although it has not been actually thought of for a long time, yet it is
- remembered very clearly. A case in point is the few days' stay that God deemed me
- worthy to enjoy with a certain devout family in the following manner.
- "During my wanderings in the Tobolsk government, I happened to pass through a
- certain country town. My supply of dried bread had run very low, so I went to one of
- the houses to ask for some more. The householder said, 'Thank God, you have come
- just at the right moment— my wife has only just taken the bread out of the oven, so
- 50:
- there is a hot loaf for you. Remember me in your prayers.' I thanked him and was
- putting the bread away in my knapsack when his wife, who was looking on, said,
- 'What a wretched state your knapsack is in, it is all worn out. I'll give you another
- instead.' And she gave me a good strong one. I thanked them very heartily and went
- on. On leaving the town I went into a little shop to ask for a bit of salt, and the
- shopkeeper gave me a small bag quite full. I rejoiced in spirit and thanked God for
- leading me, unworthy as I was, to such kindly folk. 'Now,' thought I, 'without having to
- worry about food I shall be filled and content for a whole week. Bless the Lord, O my
- soul!'
- "Three miles or so from this town, the road I was following passed through a poor
- village, where I saw a little wooden church nicely decked out and painted on the
- outside. As I was going by it I felt a wish to honor God's house, and going into the
- porch I prayed for a while. On the grass at the side of the church there were playing
- two little children of five or six years of age. I took them to be the parish priest's
- children, for they were very nicely dressed. I finished my prayers and went on my
- way, but I had not gone a dozen paces from the church when I heard a shout behind
- me. 'Dear little beggar! Dear little beggar! Stop!' The two little ones I had seen, a boy
- and a girl, were calling and running after me. I stopped, and they ran up to me and
- took me by the hand. 'Come along to mommy, she likes beggars.'
- " 'I'm not a beggar,' I told them, 'I'm just a passerby.'
- "'Why have you got a bag, then?'
- " 'That is for the bread I eat on the way.'
- " 'All the same you must come. Mommy will give you some money for your
- journey.'
- "'But where is your mommy?' I asked.
- " 'Down there behind the church, behind that little wood.'
- "They took me into a beautiful garden in the middle of which stood a large country
- house. We went inside, and how clean and smart it all was! The lady of the house
- came hurrying to us. 'Welcome, welcome! God has sent you to us; and how did you
- come? Sit down, sit down, dear.' With her own hands she took off my knapsack and
- put it on a table, and made me sit in a very comfortably padded chair. 'Wouldn't you
- like something to eat? Or a cup of tea? Isn't there anything you need?'
- 51
- " 'I most humbly thank you,' I answered, 'but I have a whole bagful of food. It is
- true that I do take tea, but as a peasant I am not very used to it. I value your heartfelt
- and kindly welcome even more than the treat you offer me. I shall pray that God may
- bless you for showing such love for strangers in the spirit of the Gospels.'
- "While I was speaking, a strong feeling came over me, urging me to withdraw
- within myself again. The prayer was surging up in my heart, and I needed peace and
- silence to give free play to this quickening flame of prayer, as well as to hide from
- others the outward signs which went with it, such as tears and sighs and unusual
- movements of the face and lips. I therefore got up, saying, 'Please excuse me, but I
- must leave now; may the Lord Jesus Christ be with you and with your dear little
- children.'
- " 'Oh, no! God forbid that you should go away. I won't allow it. My husband, who is
- a magistrate, will be coming back from town this evening, and how delighted he will
- be to see you! He reverences every pilgrim as a messenger of God. If you go away
- he will be really grieved not to have seen you. Besides that, tomorrow is Sunday, and
- you will pray with us at the liturgy, and at the dinner table take your share with us in
- what God has sent. On holy days we always have up to thirty guests, and all of them
- our poor brothers in Jesus Christ. Come now, why have you told me nothing about
- yourself, where you come from and where you are going? Talk to me—I like listening
- to the spiritual conversation of devout people. Children, children! Take the pilgrim's
- knapsack into the oratory, he will spend the night there.'
- "I was astonished as I listened to what she said, and I asked myself whether I was
- talking with a human being or with a ghost of some sort.
- "So I stayed and waited for her husband. I gave her a short account of my travels,
- and said I was on my way to Irkutsk. " 'Why, then, you will have to go through
- Tobolsk,' said the lady, 'and my own mother is a nun in a convent there; she is a
- skhimnitsa1 now. We will give you a letter, and she will be glad to see you. A great
- many people go to consult her on spiritual matters. And you will be able to take her a
- book by St. John of the ladder, which we have just ordered from Moscow at her
- request. How nicely it all fits in!'
- "Soon it was dinnertime, and we sat down to table. Four other ladies came in and
- began the meal with us. When the first course was ended one of them rose, bowed to
- 52
- the icon,8 and then to us. Then she went and fetched the second course and sat
- down again. Then another of the ladies in the same way went and brought the third
- course. When I saw this, I said to my hostess, 'May I venture to ask whether these
- ladies are relations of yours?'
- " 'Yes, they are indeed sisters to me; this is my cook, and this the coachman's
- wife, that one has charge of the keys, and the other is my maid. They are all married;
- I have no unmarried girls at all in my whole household.'
- "The more I saw and heard of all this, the more surprised I was, and I thanked
- God for letting me see these devout people. I felt the prayer stirring strongly in my
- heart, so, wishing to be alone as soon as I could and not hinder the prayer, I said to
- the lady as soon as we rose from the table, 'No doubt you will rest for a while after
- dinner, and I am so used to walking that I will go for a stroll in the garden.'
- " 'No, I don't rest,' she replied. 'I will come into the garden with you, and you shall
- talk to me about something instructive. If you go alone, the children will give you no
- peace, directly they see you, they will not leave you for a minute, they are so fond of
- beggars, and brothers in Christ, and pilgrims.'
- "There was nothing for me to do but to go with her. In order to avoid doing the talking
- myself, when we got into the garden I bowed down to the ground before her and
- said, 'Do tell me, please, have you lived this devout life long, and how did you come
- to take it up?'
- " 'I will tell you the whole story if you like,' was the answer. 'You see, my mother
- was a great-granddaughter of St. Joasaph, whose relics rest at Byelgorod. We had a
- large town house, one wing of which was rented to a man who was a gentleman but
- not well off. After a while he died; his wife was left pregnant and herself died in giving
- birth to a child. The infant was left an orphan and in poverty, and out of pity my
- mother adopted him. A year later I was born. We grew up together and did lessons
- together with the same tutors and governesses, and were as used to each other as a
- real brother and sister. Some while later my father died, and my mother gave up
- living in town and came with us to live on this estate of hers here. When we grew up,
- she gave me in marriage to her adopted son, settled this estate on us, and herself
- took the veil in a convent, where she had a cell built for her. She gave us a mother's
- blessing, and as her last will and testament she urged us to live as good Christians,
- 53
- to say our prayers fervently, and above all try to fulfill the greatest of God's
- commandments, that is, the love of one's neighbor, to feed and help our poor
- brothers in Christ in simplicity and humility, to bring up our children in the fear of the
- Lord, and to treat our serfs as our brothers. And that is how we have been living here
- by ourselves for the last ten years now, trying as best we could to carry out mother's
- last wishes. We have a guesthouse for beggars, and at the present moment there are
- living in it more than ten crippled and sick people. If you care to, we will go and see
- them tomorrow.'
- "When she had ended her story, I asked her where the book by St. John of the ladder
- was, which she wished to send to her mother. 'Come indoors,' she said, 'and I will
- find it for you.'
- "We had just sat down and begun to read it when her husband came in and,
- seeing me, gave me a warm welcome. We kissed each other as two brothers in
- Christ, and then he took me off to his own room, saying, 'Come, dear brother, let us
- go into my study, and you shall bless my cell. I expect she (pointing to his wife) has
- been boring you. No sooner does she catch sight of a pilgrim of either sex, or of
- some sick person, than she is so delighted that she will not leave them day or night.
- She has been like that for years and years.' We went into the study. What a lot of
- books there were, and beautiful icons, and the life-giving cross with the figure life-
- sized, and the Gospels lying near it! I said a prayer. 'You are in God's own paradise
- here,' I said. 'Here is the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and His most holy mother, and
- the blessed saints! And there,' I went on, pointing to the books, 'are the divine, living,
- and everlasting words of their teaching. I expect you very often enjoy heavenly
- converse with them.'
- " 'Yes, I admit I am a great lover of reading,' he answered.
- " 'What sort of books are they you have here?' I asked.
- " 'I have a large number of religious books,' was the answer. 'Here you see are
- the Lives of the Saints for the whole year, and the works of St. John Chrysostom, and
- Basil the Great, and many other theologians and philosophers. I have a lot of
- volumes of sermons, too, by celebrated modern preachers. My library is worth about
- five hundred pounds.'
- 54:
- " 'Haven't you anything on prayer?'
- Yes, I am very fond of reading about prayer. Here is the very latest work on the
- subject, the work of a Petersburg priest.' He took down a book on the Lord's Prayer
- and we began to read it with great enjoyment. A short while after the lady came in,
- bringing tea, followed by the children, who dragged in a large silver basket full of
- biscuits and cakes such as I had never tasted before in my life. My host took the
- book from me and handed it to his wife, saying, 'Now we will get her to read; she
- reads beautifully, and we will keep our strength up with the tea.' So she began
- reading, and we listened. And as I listened I felt the action of the prayer in my heart.
- The longer the reading went on the more the prayer grew and made me glad.
- Suddenly I saw something flash quickly before my eyes, in the air as it were, like the
- figure of my departed starets. I started, and so as to hide the fact I said, 'Excuse me,
- I must have dropped asleep for a moment.' Then I felt as though the soul of my
- starets made its way into my own, or gave light to it. I felt a sort of light in my mind,
- and a number of ideas about prayer came to me. I was just crossing myself and
- setting my will to put these ideas aside when the lady came to the end of the book
- and her husband asked me whether I had liked it, so that talking began again. 'Very
- much,' I answered, 'the "Our Father" is the loftiest and most precious of all the written
- prayers we Christians have, for the Lord Jesus Christ himself gave it to us. And the
- explanation of it which has just been read is very good, too, only it all deals for the
- most part with the active side of the Christian life, and in my reading of the holy
- Fathers I have come across a more speculative and mystical explanation of the
- prayer.'
- " 'In which of the Fathers did you read this?'
- " 'Well, in Maxim the confessor, for example, and in Peter the Damascene, in The
- Philokalia.'
- " 'Do you remember it? Tell us about it, please.'
- " 'Certainly. The first words of the prayer, "Our Father which art in heaven" are
- explained in your book as a call to brotherly love for one's neighbor, since we are all
- children of the one Father, and that is very true. But in the holy Fathers the
- explanation goes further and is more deeply spiritual. They say that when we use
- 55:
- these words we should lift up our mind to heaven, to the heavenly Father, and
- remember every moment that we are in the presence of God.
- " 'The words "hallowed be thy name" are explained in your book by the care we
- ought to have not to utter the Name of God except with reverence, nor to use it in a
- false oath, in a word that the Holy Name of God be spoken holily and not taken in
- vain. But the mystical writers see here a plain call to inward prayer of the heart; that
- is, that the most Holy Name of God may be stamped inwardly upon the heart and be
- hallowed by self-acting prayer and hallow all our feelings and all the powers of the
- soul. The words "Thy kingdom come" they explain thus—may inward peace and quiet
- and spiritual joy come to our hearts. In your book again, the words "Give us this day
- our daily bread" are understood as asking for what we need for our bodily life, not for
- more than that, but for what is needed for ourselves and for the help of our neighbor.
- On the other hand, Maxim the confessor understands by "daily bread" the feeding of
- the soul with heavenly bread, that is, the Word of God, and the union of the soul with
- God, by dwelling upon Him in thought and the unceasing inward prayer of the heart.'
- " 'Ah, but the attainment of interior prayer is a very big business and almost
- impossible for layfolk,' exclaimed my host. 'We are lucky if we manage to say our
- ordinary prayers without slothfulness.'
- " 'Don't look at it in that way,' said I. 'If it were out of the question and quite too
- hard to do, God would not have bidden us all do it. His strength is made perfect in
- weakness. The holy Fathers, who speak from their own experience, offer us the
- means, and make the way to win the prayer of the heart easier. Of course, for
- hermits they give special and higher methods, but for those who live in the world their
- writings show ways which truly lead to interior prayer.'
- "I have never come across anything of that sort in my reading,' he said.
- " 'If you would care to hear it, may I read you a little from The Philokalia?' I asked,
- taking up my copy. I found Peter the Damascene's article, part three, page 48, and
- read as follows:' "One must learn to call upon the name of God, more even than
- breathing—at all times, in all places, in every kind of occupation. The Apostle says,
- 'Pray without ceasing.' That is, he teaches men to have the remembrance of God in
- all times and places and circumstances. If you are making something, you must call
- to mind the Creator of all things; if you see the light, remember the Giver of it; if you
- 56:
- see the heavens and the earth and the sea and all that is in them, wonder and praise
- the Maker of them. If you put on your clothes, recall Whose gift they are and thank
- Him Who provides for your life. In short, let every action be a cause of your
- remembering and praising God, and lo! you will be praying without ceasing and
- therein your soul will always rejoice." There, you see, this way of ceaseless prayer is
- simple and easy and within the reach of everybody so long as he has some amount
- of human feeling.'
- "They were extraordinarily pleased with this. My host took me in his arms and
- thanked me again and again. Then he looked at my Philokalia, saying, 'I must
- certainly buy myself a copy of this. I will get it at once from Petersburg; but for the
- moment and in memory of this occasion I will copy out the passage you have just
- read—you read it out to me.' And then and there he wrote it out beautifully. Then he
- exclaimed, 'Why, goodness me! Of course I have an icon of the Damascene!' (It was
- probably of St. John Damascene.) He picked up a frame, put what he had written
- behind the glass, and hung it beneath the icon. 'There,' said he, 'the living word of the
- saint underneath his picture will often remind me to put his wholesome advice into
- practice.'
- "After this we went to supper. As before, the whole household, men and women,
- sat down to table with us. How reverently silent and calm the meal was! And at the
- end of it we all, the children as well, spent a long while in prayer. I was asked to read
- the 'Acathist to Jesus the heart's delight.' Afterward the servants went away to bed,
- and we three were left alone in the room. Then the lady brought me a white shirt and
- a pair of stockings. I bowed down at her feet and said, 'The stockings, little mother, I
- will not take. I have never worn them in my life, we are always so used to onoochi.'9
- She hurried off and brought back her old caftan of thin yellow material, and cut it up
- into two onoochi, while her husband, saying, 'And look, the poor fellow's footwear is
- almost worn out,' brought me his new bashmaki,10 large ones which he wore over his
- top boots. Then he told me to go into the next room, which was empty, and change
- my shirt. I did so, and when I came back to them again they sat me down on a chair
- to put my new footwear on, he wrapping my feet and legs in the onoochi and she
- putting on the bashmaki. At first I would not let them, but they bade me sit down,
- saying 'Sit down and be quiet; Christ washed His disciples' feet.' There was nothing
- 57:
- to do but obey, and I began to weep, and so did they. After this the lady went to bed
- with the children, and her husband and I went to a summerhouse in the garden.
- "For a long while we did not go to sleep, but lay talking. He began in this way, 'Now in
- God's name and on your conscience tell me the real truth. Who are you? You must
- be of good birth, and are only assuming a disguise of simplicity. You read and write
- well, you speak correctly, and are able to discuss things, and these things do not go
- with a peasant upbringing.'
- " 'I spoke the real truth with a sincere heart both to you and to your wife when I
- told you about my birth, and I never had a thought of lying or of deceiving you. Why
- should I? As for the things I say, they are not my own, but what I have heard from my
- departed starets, who was full of divine wisdom, or what I have gathered from a
- careful reading of the holy Fathers. But my ignorance has gained more light from
- interior prayer than from anything else, and that I have not reached by myself —it has
- been granted me by the mercy of God and the teaching of my starets. And that can
- be done by anyone. It costs nothing but the effort to sink down in silence into the
- depths of one's heart and call more and more upon the radiant name of Jesus.
- Everyone who does that feels at once the inward light, everything becomes
- understandable to him, he even catches sight in this light of some of the mysteries of
- the kingdom of God. And what depth and light there is in the mystery of a man
- coming to know that he has this power to plumb the depths of his own being, to see
- himself from within, to find delight in self- knowledge, to take pity on himself and shed
- tears of gladness over his fall and his spoiled will! To show good sense in dealing
- with things and to talk with people is no hard matter and lies within anyone's power,
- for the mind and the heart were there before learning and human wisdom. If the mind
- is there, you can set it to work either upon science or upon experience, but if the
- mind is lacking then no teaching, however wise, and no training will be any good. The
- trouble is that we live far from ourselves and have but little wish to get any nearer to
- ourselves. Indeed we are running away all the time to avoid coming face to face with
- our real selves, and we barter the truth for trifles. We think, "I would very gladly take
- an interest in spiritual things, and in prayer, but I have no time, the fuss and cares of
- life give no chance for such a thing." Yet which is really important and necessary,
- salvation and the eternal life of the soul, or the fleeting life of the body on which we
- 58:
- spend so much labor? It is that that I spoke of, and that leads to either sense or
- stupidity in people.'
- " 'Forgive me, dear brother, I asked not just out of mere curiosity, but from
- friendliness and Christian sympathy, and even more because about two years ago I
- came across a case which gave rise to the question I put to you. It was like this:
- There came to our house a certain beggar with a discharged soldier's passport. He
- was old and feeble, and so poor that he was almost naked and barefoot. He spoke
- little, and in such a simple way that you would take him for a peasant of the steppes.
- We took him into the guesthouse, but some five days later he fell seriously ill, and so
- we moved him to this very summerhouse, where we kept him quiet, and my wife and
- I looked after him and nursed him. But after a while it was plain that he was nearing
- his end. We prepared him for it and sent for our priest for his confession, communion,
- and anointing. The day before he died, he got up and asked me for a sheet of paper
- and a pen and begged me to shut the door and to let no one in while he wrote his
- will, which he desired me to send after his death to his son at an address in
- Petersburg. I was astounded when I saw him write, for not only did he write a
- beautiful and absolutely cultured hand, but the composition also was excellent,
- thoroughly- correct, and showing great delicacy of touch. In fact, I'll read you that will
- of his tomorrow. I have a copy of it. All this set me wondering, and aroused my
- curiosity enough to ask him about his origin and his life.
- " After making me solemnly vow not to reveal it to anyone until after his death, he
- told me, for the glory
- of God, the story of his life. "I was Prince X ---- ," he
- began. "I was very wealthy and led a most luxurious and dissipated life. After the
- death of my wife, my son and I lived together, he being happily settled in military
- service; he was a captain in the guards. One day when I was getting ready to go to a
- ball at an important person's house, I was very angry with my valet. Unable to control
- my temper, I struck him a severe blow on the head and ordered him to be sent away
- to his village. This happened in the evening, and next morning the valet died from the
- effects of the blow. This did not affect me very seriously. I regretted my rashness but
- soon forgot the whole thing. Six weeks later, though, I began seeing the dead valet,
- in my dreams to begin with—every night he disturbed me and reproached me,
- 59
- incessantly repeating, 'Conscienceless man! You are my murderer!' As time went on,
- I began seeing him when I was awake also, wide awake. His appearances grew
- more and more frequent with the lapse of time, till the agitation he caused me
- became almost constant. And in the end he did not appear alone, but I saw at the
- same time other dead men whom I had treated very badly, and women whom I had
- seduced. They all reproached me ceaselessly and gave me no peace, to such an
- extent that I could neither sleep nor eat nor do anything else. My strength grew utterly
- exhausted, and my skin stuck to my bones. All the efforts of skilled physicians were
- of no avail at all. I went abroad for a cure, but after trying it for six months, I was not
- benefited in the slightest degree, and those torturing apparitions grew steadily worse
- and worse. I was brought home again more dead than alive. I went through the
- horrors and tortures of hell in fullest measure. I had proof then that hell exists, and I
- knew what it meant! While I was in this wretched condition I recognized my own
- wrongdoing. I repented and made my confession. I gave all my serfs their freedom
- and took a vow to afflict myself for the rest of my days with as toilsome a life as
- possible and to disguise myself as a beggar. I wanted, because of all my sins, to
- become the humblest servant of people of the very lowest station in life. No sooner
- had I resolutely come to this decision than those disturbing visions of mine ceased. I
- felt such comfort and happiness from having made my peace with God that I cannot
- adequately describe it. But just as I had been through hell before, so now I
- experienced paradise, and learned what that meant also, and how the kingdom of
- God is revealed in our hearts. I soon got perfectly well again and carried out my
- intention, leaving my native land secretly, furnished with a discharged soldier's
- passport. And now for the last fifteen years I have been wandering about the whole
- of Siberia. Sometimes I hire myself out to the peasants for such work as I can do.
- Sometimes I find sustenance by begging in the name of Christ. Ah, what blessedness
- and what happiness and what peace of mind I enjoy in the midst of all these
- privations! It can be felt to the full only by one who by the mercy of the Great
- Intercessor has been brought out of hell into paradise."
- " 'When he came to the end of his story he handed me the will to forward to his
- son, and on the following day he died. And I have a copy of that will in a wallet lying
- on my Bible. If you would like to read it I will get it for you now. . . . Here you are.'
- 60:
- "I unfolded it and read thus:
- In the name of God the glorious Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
- My dearest son,
- It is fifteen years now since you saw your father. But though you have had no
- news of him, he has from time to time found means to hear of you, and cherished a
- father's love for you. That love impels him to send you these few lines from his
- deathbed. May they be a lifelong lesson to you!
- You know how I suffered for my careless and thoughtless life; but you do not
- know how I have been blessed in my unknown pilgrimage and filled with joy in the
- fruits of repentance.
- I die at peace in the house of one who has been good to me, and to you also; for
- kindnesses showered upon the father must touch the feeling heart of a grateful son.
- Render to him my gratitude in any way you can.
- In bestowing on you my paternal blessing, I adjure you to remember God and to
- guard your conscience. Be prudent, kindly, and considerate; treat your inferiors as
- benevolently and amiably as you can; do not despise beggars and pilgrims,
- remembering that only in beggary and pilgrimage did your dying father find rest and
- peace for his tormented soul. I invoke God's blessing upon you, and calmly close my
- eyes in the hope of life eternal, through the mercy of the Great Intercessor for men,
- our Lord Jesus Christ.
- Your father, X ------------------------------------------------
- "Thus my host and I lay and chatted together, and my turn I put a question to him. 'I
- suppose you are not without worries and bothers, with this guesthouse of yours? Of
- course there are quite a lot of our pilgrim brotherhood who take to the life because
- they have nothing to do, or from sheer laziness, and sometimes they do a little
- thieving on the road; I have seen it myself.'
- " There have not been many cases of that sort,' was the answer. 'We have for the
- most part always come across genuine pilgrims. And if we do get the other sort, we
- welcome them all the more kindly and try the harder to get them to stay with us.
- Through living with our good beggars and brothers in Christ they often become
- reformed characters and leave the guesthouse humble and kindly folk. Why, there
- was a case of that sort not so long ago. He was a man belonging to the lower middle
- 61
- class of our town here, and he went so thoroughly to the bad that it came to the point
- of everybody driving him away from their doors with a stick and refusing to give him
- even a crust of bread. He was a drunken, quarrelsome bully, and what is more he
- stole. That was the sort of person he was when one day he came to us, very hungry,
- and asked for some bread and wine, for the latter of which he was extraordinarily
- eager. We gave him a friendly reception and said, "Stay with us and we will give you
- as much wine as you like, but only on this condition, that when you have been
- drinking, you go straight away and lie down and go to sleep. If you get in the slightest
- degree unruly or troublesome, not only shall we turn you out and never take you back
- again, but I shall report the matter to the police and have you sent off to a penal
- settlement as a suspected vagabond." He agreed to this and stopped with us. For a
- week or more he certainly did drink a great deal, to his heart's content. But because
- of his promise and because of his attachment to the wine, which he was afraid of
- being deprived of, he always lay down to sleep afterward, or took himself off to the
- kitchen garden and lay down there quietly enough. When he was sober again the
- brothers of the guesthouse talked persuasively to him and gave him good advice
- about learning to control himself, if only little by little to begin with. So he gradually
- began to drink less, and in the end, some three months later, he became quite a
- temperate person. He has taken a situation somewhere now, and no longer leads a
- futile life of dependence on other people's charity. The day before yesterday he came
- here to thank me.'
- "What wisdom! I thought, made perfect by the guidance of love! and aloud I said,
- 'Blessed be God, who has so shown His grace in the household under your care.'
- After this talk we slept for an hour or an hour and a half till we heard the bells for
- matins. We got ready and went over to the church. On going in we at once saw the
- lady of the house, who had been there some time already with her children. We were
- all present at matins, and the Divine Liturgy went straight on afterward. The head of
- the house with his little boy and I took our places within the altar,11 while his wife and
- the little girl stood near the altar window, where they could see the elevation of the
- holy gifts. How earnestly they prayed as they knelt and shed tears of joy! And I wept
- to the full myself as I looked at the light on their faces. After the service was over, the
- gentlefolk, the priest, the servants, and the beggars all went off together to the dining
- 62
- room. There were some forty or so beggars, and cripples and sick folk and children.
- They all sat down at one and the same table, and how peaceful and silent it all was! I
- plucked up my courage and said quietly to my host, 'They read the lives of the saints
- during meals in monasteries. You might do the same. You've got the whole series of
- books.' " 'Let us adopt the plan here, Mary,' said he, turning to his wife, 'it will be most
- edifying. I will begin, and read at the first dinnertime, then you at the next, then the
- batyushka,12 and after that the rest of the brothers who know how to read, in turn.'
- "The priest began to talk and eat at the same time. 'I like listening, but as for
- reading—well, with all respect I should like to be let off. You have no idea what a
- whirl I live in when I get home, worries and jobs of all sorts, first one thing has to be
- done and then another, what with a host of children and animals into the bargain—
- my whole day is filled up with things to do. There's no time for reading or study. I've
- long ago forgotten even what I learned at the seminary.' I shuddered as I heard this,
- but our hostess, who was sitting near me, took my hand and said, 'Batyushka talks
- like that because he is so humble, he always makes little of himself, but he is really a
- man of most kindly and saintly life. He has been a widower for the last twenty years
- and is bringing up a whole family of grandchildren. For all that he holds services very
- frequently.' At these words there came into my mind the following saying of Nicetas
- Stethatus in The Philokalia: 'The nature of things is judged by the inward disposition
- of the soul,' that is, a man gets his ideas about his neighbors from what he himself is.
- And he goes on to say, 'He who has attained to true prayer and love has no sense of
- the differences between things: he does not distinguish the righteous man from the
- sinner, but loves them all equally and judges no man, as God causes His sun to
- shine and His rain to fall on the just and the unjust.'
- "We fell silent again. Opposite me sat one of the beggars from the guesthouse
- who was quite blind. The master of the house was looking after him. He cut up his
- fish for him, gave him his spoon, and poured out his soup.
- "I watched carefully and saw that this beggar always had his mouth open and that
- his tongue was moving all the time, as though it were trembling. Surely, thought I, he
- must be one of those who pray. And I went on watching. Right at the end of dinner an
- old woman was taken ill. It was a sharp attack, and she began to groan. Our host and
- his wife took her into their bedroom and laid her on their bed, where the lady stayed
- 63
- to look after her. Her husband meanwhile ordered his carriage and went off at a
- gallop to the town for a doctor. The priest went to fetch the Reserved Sacrament, and
- we all went our ways.
- "I felt as it were hungry for prayer, an urgent need to pour out my soul in prayer,
- and I had not been in quiet nor alone for forty-eight hours. I felt as though there were
- in my heart a sort of flood struggling to burst out and flow through all my limbs. To
- hold it back caused me severe, even if comforting, pain in the heart, a pain that
- needed to be calmed and satisfied in the silence of prayer. And now I saw why those
- who really practice interior self-acting prayer have fled from the company of men and
- hidden themselves in unknown places. I saw further why the venerable Isikhi called
- even the most spiritual and helpful talk mere idle chatter if there were too much of it,
- just as Ephrem the Syrian says, 'Good speech is silver, but silence is pure gold.'
- "As I thought all this over, I made my way to the guesthouse, where everyone was
- resting after dinner. I went up into the attic, where I quietly rested and prayed.
- "When the beggars were about again, I found the blind man and took him off to
- the kitchen garden, where we sat down alone and began to talk. 'Tell me, please,'
- said I, 'do you for the sake of your soul say the prayer of Jesus?'
- " 'I have said it without stopping for a long while.'
- " 'But what sort of feeling do you get from it?'
- " 'Only this, that day or night I cannot live without the prayer.'
- " 'How did God show it you? Tell me about it, tell me everything, dear brother.'
- " 'Well, it was like this. I belong to this district and used to earn my living by doing
- tailoring jobs. I traveled about different provinces going from village to village, and
- made clothes for the peasants. I happened to stay a fairly long time in one village in
- the house of a peasant for whose family I was making clothing. One day, a holy day it
- was, I saw three books lying near the icons, and I asked who it was in the household
- that could read. "No one," they answered; "those books were left us by an uncle; he
- knew how to read and write." I picked up one of the books, opened it at random, and
- read, as I remember to this very hour, the following words: "Ceaseless prayer is to
- call upon the name of God always, whether a man is conversing, or sitting down, or
- walking, or making something, or eating, whatever he may be doing, in all places and
- at all times, he ought to call upon God's name." Reading that started me thinking how
- 64:
- simple that would be for me. I began to say the prayer in a whisper while I was
- sewing, and I liked it. People living in the same house with me noticed it and began
- to make fun of me. "Are you a wizard or what?" they asked, "going on whispering all
- the time?" or "What are you muttering charms about?" So to hide what I was doing, 1
- gave up moving my lips and went on saying the prayer with my tongue only. In the
- end I got so used to the prayer that my tongue went on saying it by itself day and
- night, and I liked it. I went about like that for a long while, and then all of a sudden I
- became quite blind. Almost everyone in our family gets "dark water"13 in the eyes.
- So, because I was so poor, our people got me into the almshouse at Tobolsk, which
- is the capital of our province. I am on my way there now, only the gentry have kept
- me here because they want to give me a cart as far as Tobolsk.'
- " 'What was the name of the book you read? Wasn't it called The Philokalia?'
- " 'Honestly, I don't know. I didn't even look at the title page.'
- "I fetched my Philokalia and looked out in part four those very words of the
- patriarch Callistus which he had said by heart, and I read them to him.
- " 'Why, those are the very same words!' cried the blind man. 'How splendid! Go on
- reading, brother.'
- "When I got to the lines, 'One ought to pray with the heart,' he began to ply me
- with questions. 'What does that mean? How is that done?'
- "I told him that full teaching on praying with the heart was given in this same book,
- The Philokalia. He begged me eagerly to read the whole thing to him.
- " 'This is what we will do,' said I. 'When are you starting for Tobolsk?'
- " 'Straight away,' he answered.
- " 'Very well then, I am also going to take the road again tomorrow. We will go
- together and I will read it all to you, all about praying with the heart, and I will show
- you how to find where your heart is, and to enter it.'
- " 'And what about the cart?' he asked.
- " 'What does the cart matter! We know how far it is to Tobolsk, a mere hundred
- miles. We will take it easy, and think how nice it will be going along, just us two
- together alone, talking and reading about the prayer as we go.' And so it was agreed.
- "In the evening our host came himself to call us all to supper, and after the meal we
- told him that the blind man and I were taking the road together, and that we did not
- 65:
- need a cart, so as to be able to read The Philokalia more easily. Hearing this he said,
- 'I also liked The Philokalia very much, and I have already written a letter and got the
- money ready to send to Petersburg when I go into court tomorrow, so as to get a
- copy sent me by return of post.'
- "So we set off on our way next morning, after thanking them very warmly for their
- great love and kindness. Both of them came with us for more than half a mile from
- their house. And so we bade each other good-bye.
- "We went on, the blind man and I, by easy stages, doing from six to ten miles a
- day. All the rest of the time we spent sitting down in lonely places and reading The
- Philokalia. I read him the whole part about praying with the heart, in the order which
- my departed starets had shown me, that is, beginning with the writings of Nicephorus
- the monk, Gregory of Sinai, and so on. How eagerly and closely he listened to it all,
- and what happiness and joy it brought him! Then he began to put such questions to
- me about prayer as my mind was not equal to finding answers to. When we had read
- what we needed from The Philokalia, he eagerly begged me actually to show him the
- way the mind finds the heart, how to bring the divine name of Jesus Christ into it, and
- how to find the joy of praying inwardly with the heart. And I told him all about it thus:
- "Now you, as a blind man, can see nothing. Yet as a matter of fact you can imagine
- with your mind and picture to yourself what you have seen in time past, such as a
- man or some object or other, or one of your own limbs. For instance, can you not
- picture your hand or your foot as clearly as if you were looking at it? Can you not turn
- your eyes to it and fix them upon it, blind as they are?'
- " 'Yes, I can,' he answered.
- " 'Then picture to yourself your heart in just the same way, turn your eyes to it just
- as though you were looking at it through your breast, and picture it as clearly as you
- can. And with your ears listen closely to its beating, beat by beat. When you have got
- into the way of doing this, begin to fit the words of the prayer to the beats of the heart
- one after the other, looking at it all the time. Thus, with the first beat, say or think
- "Lord," with the second, "Jesus," with the third, "Christ," with the fourth, "have mercy,"
- and with the fifth "on me." And do it over and over again.-This will come easily to you,
- for you already know the groundwork and the first part of praying with the heart.
- Afterward, when you have grown used to what I have just told you about, you must
- 66:
- begin bringing the whole prayer of Jesus into and out of your heart in time with your
- breathing, as the Fathers taught. Thus, as you draw your breath in, say, or imagine
- yourself saying, "Lord Jesus Christ," and as you breathe again, "have mercy on me."
- Do this as often and as much as you can, and in a short space of time you will feel
- a'slight and not unpleasant pain in your heart, followed by a warmth. Thus by God's
- help you will get the joy of self-acting inward prayer of the heart. But then, whatever
- you do, be on your guard against imagination and any sort of visions. Don't accept
- any of them whatever, for the holy Fathers lay down most strongly that inward prayer
- should be kept free from visions, lest one fall into temptation.'
- "The blind man listened closely to all this and began eagerly to do with his heart
- what I had shown him, and he spent a long while at it, especially during the nighttime
- at our halting places. In about five days' time he began to feel the warmth very much,
- as well as a happiness beyond words in his heart, and a great wish to devote himself
- unceasingly to this prayer, which stirred up in him a love of Jesus Christ.
- "From time to time he saw a light, though he could make out no objects in it. And
- sometimes, when he made the entrance into his heart, it seemed to him as though a
- flame, as of a lighted candle, blazed up strongly and happily in his heart, and rushing
- outward through his throat flooded him with light; and in the light of this flame he
- could see even far-off things. This did indeed happen once. We were walking through
- a forest, and he was silent, wholly given up to the prayer. Suddenly he said to me,
- 'What a pity! The church is already on fire; there, the belfry has fallen.'
- " 'Stop this vain dreaming,' I answered, 'it is a temptation to you. You must put all
- such fancies aside at once. How can you possibly see what is happening in the
- town? We are still seven or eight miles away from it.'
- "He obeyed me and went on with his prayer in silence. Toward evening we came
- to the town, and there as a matter of fact I saw several burnt houses and a fallen
- belfry, which had been built with ties of timber, and people crowding around and
- wondering how it was that the belfry had crushed no one in its fall. As I worked it out,
- the misfortune had happened at the very same time as the blind man spoke to me
- about it. And he began to talk to me on the matter. 'You told me,' said he, 'that this
- vision of mine was vain, but here you see things really are as I saw them. How can I
- fail to thank and to love the Lord Jesus Christ, Who shows His grace even to sinners
- 67:
- and the blind and the foolish! And I thank you also for teaching me the work of the
- heart.'
- " 'Love Jesus Christ,' said I, 'and thank Him all you will. But beware of taking your
- visions for direct revelations of grace. For these things may often happen quite
- naturally in the order of things. The human soul is not bound by place and matter. It
- can see even in the darkness, and what happens a long way off, as well as things
- near at hand. Only we do not give force and scope to this spiritual power. We crush it
- beneath the yoke of our gross bodies or get it mixed up with our haphazard thoughts
- and ideas. But when we concentrate within ourselves, when we draw away from
- everything around us and become more subtle and refined in mind, then the soul
- comes into its own and works to its fullest power. So what happened was natural
- enough. I have heard my departed starets say that there are people (even such as
- are not given to prayer, but who have this sort of power, or gain it during sickness)
- who see light even in the darkest of rooms, as though it streamed from every article
- in it, and see things by it; who see their doubles and enter into the thoughts of other
- people. But what does come directly from the grace of God in the case of the prayer
- of the heart is so full of sweetness and delight that no tongue can tell of it, nor can it
- be likened to anything material; it is beyond compare. Every feeling is base
- compared with the sweet knowledge of grace in the heart.'
- "My blind friend listened eagerly to this and became still more humble. The prayer
- grew more and more in his heart and delighted him beyond words. I rejoiced at this
- with all my soul and thanked God from my heart that He had let me see so blessed a
- servant of His. We got to Tobolsk at last. I took him to the almshouse, and leaving
- him there with a loving farewell, I went on my own way.
- "I went along without hurrying for about a month with a deep sense of the way in
- which good lives teach us and spur us on to copy them. I read The Philokalia a great
- deal, and there made sure of everything I had told the blind man of prayer. His
- example kindled in me zeal and thankfulness and love for God. The prayer of my
- heart gave me such consolation that I felt there was no happier person on earth than
- I, and I doubted if there could be greater and fuller happiness in the kingdom of
- heaven. Not only did I feel this in my own soul, but the whole outside world also
- seemed to me full of charm and delight. Everything drew me to love and thank God:
- 68:
- people, trees, plants, and animals. I saw them all as my kinsfolk; I found on all of
- them the magic of the name of Jesus. Sometimes I felt as light as though I had no
- body and were floating happily through the air instead of walking. Sometimes when I
- withdrew into myself, I saw clearly all my internal organs and was filled with wonder
- at the wisdom with which the human body is made. Sometimes I felt as joyful as if I
- had been made czar. And at all such times of happiness, I wished that God would let
- death come to me quickly and let me pour out my heart in thankfulness at His feet in
- the world of spirits.
- "It would seem that somehow I took too great a joy in these feelings, or perhaps it
- was just allowed by God's will, but for some time I felt a sort of quaking and fear in
- my heart. Was there, I wondered, some new misfortune or trouble coming upon me
- like what had happened after I met the girl again to whom I taught the prayer of
- Jesus in the chapel? A cloud of such thoughts came down upon me, and I
- remembered the words of the venerable John Karpathisky, who says that 'the master
- will often submit to humiliation and endure disaster and temptation for the sake of
- those who have profited by him spiritually.' I fought against the gloomy thoughts, and
- prayed with more earnestness than ever. The prayer quite put them to flight, and
- taking heart again I said, 'God's will be done, I am ready to suffer whatever Jesus
- Christ sends me for my wickedness and pride.' And those to whom I had lately shown
- the secret of entry into the heart and interior prayer had even before their meeting
- with me been made ready by the direct and secret teaching of God.
- "Calmed by these thoughts, I went on my way again filled with consolation, having
- the prayer with me and happier even than I had been before. It rained for a couple of
- days, and the road was so muddy that I could hardly drag my feet out of the mire. I
- was walking across the steppe, and in ten miles or so I did not find a single dwelling.
- At last toward nightfall I came upon one house standing by itself right on the road.
- Glad I was to see it, and I thought I would ask for a rest and a night's lodging here
- and see what God sent for the morrow; perhaps the weather would get better. As I
- drew near, I saw a tipsy old man in a soldier's cloak sitting on the zavalina. I greeted
- him, saying, 'Could I perhaps ask someone to give me a night's lodging here?'
- " 'Who else could give it you but me?' he shouted. 'I'm master here. This is a post-
- house, and I am in charge of it.'
- 69
- " 'Then will you allow me, sir, to spend the night at your house?'
- " 'Have you got a passport? Give some legal account of yourself.'
- "I handed him my passport and, holding it in his hands, he again asked, 'Where is
- your passport?'
- " 'You have it in your hands,' I answered.
- " 'Well, come into the house,' said he.
- "He put his spectacles on, read the passport through, and said, 'All right, that's all
- in order. Stay the night. I'm a good fellow really. Have a drink.'
- " 'I don't drink,' I answered, 'and never have.'
- " 'Well, please yourself, I don't care. At any rate have supper with us.'
- "They sat down to table, he and the cook, a young woman who also had been
- drinking rather freely, and asked me to sit down with them. They quarreled all through
- supper, hurling reproaches at each other, and in the end came to blows. The man
- went off into the passage and to his bed in a lumber room, while the cook began to
- tidy up and wash up the cups and spoons, all the while going on with the abuse of
- her master. I took a seat, thinking it would be some time before she quieted down. So
- I asked her where I could sleep, for I was very tired from my journey. 'I will make you
- up a bed,' she answered. And she placed another bench against the one under the
- front window, spread a felt blanket over them, and gave me a pillow. I lay down and
- shut my eyes as though asleep. For a long while yet the cook bustled about, but at
- last she tidied up, put out the fire, and was coming over toward me. Suddenly the
- whole window, which was in a corner at the front of the house—frame, glass, and
- splinters of wood—flew into shivers, which came showering down with a frightful
- crash. The whole house shook, and from outside the window came a sickening
- groan, and shouts and the noise of struggling. The woman sprang back in terror into
- the middle of the room and fell in a heap on the floor. I jumped up with my wits all
- astray, thinking the earth had opened under my feet. And the next thing I saw was
- two drivers carrying a man into the house so covered with blood that you could not
- even see his face. And this added still more to my horror. He was a king's messenger
- who had galloped here to change horses. His driver had not taken the turn into the
- gateway properly, the carriage pole stove in the window, and as there was a ditch in
- 70:
- front of the house, the carriage overturned and the king's messenger was thrown out,
- cutting his head badly on a sharp post.
- "He asked for some water and wine to bathe his wound. Then he drank a glass,
- and cried, 'Horses!'
- "I went up to him and said, 'Surely, sir, you won't travel any further with a wound
- like that?'
- " 'A king's messenger has no time to be ill,' he answered, and galloped off.
- "The drivers dragged the senseless woman into a corner near the stove and
- covered her with a rug, saying, 'She was badly scared. She'll come round all right.'
- The master of the house had another glass and went back to bed, and I was left
- alone. Very soon the woman got up again and began walking across the room from
- corner to corner in a witless sort of way, and in the end she went out of the house. I
- felt as though the shock had taken all the strength out of me, and after saying my
- prayers I dropped asleep for a while before dawn.
- "In the morning I took leave of the old man and set off again, and as I walked I
- sent up my prayer with faith and trust and thanks to the Father of all blessing and
- consolation Who had saved me when I was in such great danger.
- "Some six years after this happened I was passing a convent and went into the
- church to-pray. The kindly abbess welcomed me in her room after the liturgy, and
- had tea served. Suddenly some unexpected guests came to see her, and she went
- to them, leaving me with some of the nuns who waited on her in her cell. One of
- them, who was pouring out tea, and was clearly a humble soul, made me curious
- enough to ask whether she had been in the convent long.
- " 'Five years,' she answered. 'I was out of my mind when they brought me here,
- and it was here that God had mercy on me. The mother abbess kept me to wait on
- her in her cell and led me to take the veil.'
- " 'How came you to go out of your mind?' I asked.
- " 'It was fright,' said she. 'I used to work at a post- house, and late one night some
- horses stove in a window. I was so terrified that it drove me out of my mind. For a
- whole year my relations took me from one shrine to another, but it was only here that
- I got cured.' When I heard this I rejoiced in spirit and praised God, Who so wisely
- orders all things for the best.
- 71
- "I had a great many other experiences," I said, speaking to my spiritual father,
- "but I should want three whole days and nights to tell you everything as it happened.
- Still there is one other thing I will tell you about.
- "One clear summer's day I noticed a cemetery near the road, and what they call a
- pogost, that is, a church with some houses for those who minister in it. The bells
- were ringing for the liturgy, and I made my way toward it. People who lived round
- about were going the same way, and some of them, before they got as far as the
- church, were sitting on the grass. Seeing me hurrying along, they said to me, 'Don't
- hurry, you'll have plenty of time for standing about when the service begins. Services
- take a long while here: our priest is in bad health and goes very slowly.'
- "The service did, in fact, last a very long while. The priest was a young man, but
- very thin and pale. He celebrated very slowly indeed, but with great devotion, and at
- the end of the liturgy he preached with much feeling a beautiful and simple sermon
- on how to grow in love for God. The priest asked me into his house and to stay to
- dinner.
- "During the meal I said, 'How reverently and slowly you celebrate, Father!'
- "'Yes,' he answered, 'but my parishioners do not like it, and they grumble. Still,
- there's nothing to be done about it. I like to meditate on each prayer and rejoice in it
- before I say it aloud. Without that interior appreciation and feeling every word uttered
- is useless both to myself and to others. Everything centers in the interior life, and in
- attentive prayer! Yet how few concern themselves with the interior life,' he went on. 'It
- is because they feel no desire to cherish the spiritual inward light.'
- " 'And how is one to reach that?' I asked. 'It would seem to be very difficult.'
- " 'Not at all,' was the reply. 'To attain spiritual enlightenment and become a man of
- recollected interior life, you should take some one text or other of holy Scripture and
- for as long a period as possible concentrate on that alone all your power of attention
- and meditation; then the light of understanding will be revealed to you. You must
- proceed in the same way about prayer. If you want it to be pure, right, and enjoyable,
- you must choose some short prayer, consisting of few but forcible words, and repeat
- it frequently and for a long while. Then you will find delight in prayer.'
- 72
- "This teaching of the priest pleased me very much. How practical and simple it
- was, and yet at the same time how deep and how wise. I gave thanks to God, in my
- thoughts, for showing me such a true pastor of his church.
- "When the meal was over, he said to me, 'You have a sleep after dinner while I
- read the Bible and prepare my sermon for tomorrow.' So I went into the kitchen.
- There was no one there except a very old woman sitting crouched in a corner
- coughing. I sat down under a small window, took The Philokalia out of my knapsack,
- and began to read quietly to myself. After a while I heard the old woman who was
- sitting in the corner ceaselessly whispering the prayer of Jesus. It gave me great joy
- to hear the Lord's most holy name spoken so often, and I said to her, 'What a good
- thing it is, mother, that you are always saying the prayer. It is a most Christian and
- most wholesome action.'
- " 'Yes,' she replied. 'The "Lord have mercy" is the only thing I have to lean on in
- my old age.'
- " 'Have you made a habit of this prayer for long?'
- " 'Since I was quite young, yes, and I couldn't live without it, for the Jesus prayer
- saved me from ruin and death.'
- " 'How? Please tell me about it, for the glory of God and in praise of the blessed
- power of the prayer of Jesus.'
- "I put The Philokalia away in my knapsack and took a seat nearer to her, and she
- began her story.
- " 'I used to be a young and pretty girl. My parents gave me in marriage, and the
- very day before the wedding, my bridegroom came to see us. Suddenly, before he
- had taken a dozen steps, he dropped down and died, without a single gasp. This
- frightened me so that I utterly refused to marry at all. I made up my mind to live
- unmarried, to go on a pilgrimage to the shrines and pray at them. However, I was
- afraid to travel all by myself, young as I was; I feared evil people might molest me.
- But an old woman- pilgrim whom I knew taught me wherever my road took me
- always to say the Jesus prayer without stopping, and told me for certain that if I did,
- no misfortune of any sort could happen to me on my way. I proved the truth of this,
- for I walked even to far-off shrines and never came to any harm. My parents gave me
- 73
- the money for my journeys. As I grew old I lost my health, and now the priest here out
- of the kindness of his heart gives me board and lodging.'
- "I was overjoyed to hear this, and knew not how to thank God for this day, in
- which I had been taught so much by examples of spiritual life. Then, asking the kindly
- and devout priest for his blessing, I set off again on my way, rejoicing.
- "Then again, not so long ago, as I was making my way here through the Kazan
- government, I had a chance of learning how the power of prayer in the name of
- Jesus Christ is shown clearly and strongly even in those who use it without a will to
- do so, and how saying the prayer often and for a long time is a sure and rapid way of
- gaining its blessed fruits. It happened that I was to pass the night at a Tartar village.
- On reaching it I saw a Russian carriage and coachman outside the window of one of
- the huts. The horses were being fed nearby. I was glad to see all this and made up
- my mind to ask for a night's lodging at the same place, thinking that I should at least
- spend the night with Christians.14 When I came up to them I asked the coachman
- where he was going, and he answered that his master was going from Kazan to the
- Crimea. While I was talking with the coachman, his master pulled open the carriage
- curtains from inside, looked out, and saw me. Then he said, '1 shall stay the night
- here, too, but I have not gone into the hut, Tartar houses are so uncomfortable. I
- have decided to spend the night in the carriage.' Then he got out, and as it was a fine
- evening, we strolled about for a while and talked. He asked me a lot of questions and
- talked about himself also, and this is what he told me:
- " 'Until I was sixty-five I was a captain in the navy, but as I grew old I became the
- victim of gout—an incurable disease. So I retired from the service and lived, almost
- constantly ill, on a farm of my wife's in the Crimea. She was an impulsive woman of a
- volatile disposition, and a great cardplayer. She found it boring living with a sick man
- and left me, going off to our daughter in Kazan, who happened to be married to a civil
- servant there. My wife laid hands on all she could, and even took the servants with
- her, leaving me with nobody but an eight-year-old boy, my godson. So I lived alone
- for about three years. The boy who served me was a sharp little fellow, and capable
- of doing all the household work. He did my room, heated the stove, cooked the gruel,
- and got the samovar15 ready. But at the same time he was extraordinarily
- mischievous and full of spirits. He was incessantly rushing about and banging and
- 74:
- shouting and playing, and up to all sorts of tricks, so that he disturbed me
- exceedingly. And I, being ill and bored, liked to read spiritual books all the time. I had
- one splendid book by Gregory Palamas, on the prayer of Jesus. I read it almost
- continuously, and I used to say the prayer to some extent. But the boy hindered me,
- and no threats and no punishment restrained him from indulging in his pranks. At last
- I hit upon the following method. I made him sit on a bench in my room with me, and
- bade him say the prayer of Jesus without stopping. At first this was extraordinarily
- distasteful to him, and he tried all sorts of ways to avoid it and often fell silent. In
- order to /make him do my bidding, I kept a cane beside me. When he said the prayer
- I quietly read my book, or listened to jlow he was saying it. But let him stop for a
- moment, and I showed him the cane; then he got frightened and took to the prayer
- again. I found this very peaceful, and quiet reigned in the house. After a while I
- noticed that now there was no need of the cane; the boy began to do my bidding
- quite willingly and eagerly. Further, I observed a complete change in his mischievous
- character: he became quiet and taciturn and performed his household tasks better
- than before. I was glad of this and began to allow him more freedom. And what was
- the result? Well, in the end he got so accustomed to the prayer that he was saying it
- almost the whole time, whatever he was doing, and without any compulsion from me
- at all. When I asked him about it, he answered that he felt an insuperable desire to
- be saying the prayer always.
- "' "And what are your feelings while doing so?" I asked him.
- .... Nothing," said he, "only I feel that it's nice to be saying it."
- .... How do you mean—nice?"
- ... I don't know how to put it exactly."
- .... Makes you feel cheerful, do you mean?"
- ... Yes, cheerful."
- " 'He was twelve years old when the Crimean War broke out, and I went to stay
- with my daughter at Kazan, taking him with me. Here he lived in the kitchen with the
- other servants, and this bored him very much. He would come to me with complaints
- that the others, playing and joking among themselves, bothered him also, and
- laughed at him and so prevented him saying his prayer. In the end, after about three
- 75:
- months, he came to me and said, "I am going home. I'm unbearably sick of this place
- and all this noise."
- .... How can you go alone for such a distance and in winter, too?" said I. "Wait,
- and when I go I'll take you with me." Next day my boy had vanished.
- " 'We sent everywhere to look for him, but nowhere could he be found. In the end
- I got a letter from the Crimea, from the people who were on our farm, saying that the
- boy had been found dead in my empty house on 4 April, which was Easter Monday.
- He was lying peacefully on the floor of my room with his hands folded on his breast,
- and in that same thin frockcoat that he always went about my house in, and which he
- was wearing when he went away. And so they buried him in my garden.
- " 'When I heard this news I was absolutely amazed. How had the child reached
- the farm so quickly? He started on 26 February and he was found on 4 April. Even
- with God's help you want horses to cover two thousand miles in a month! Why, it is
- nearly seventy miles a day! And in thin clothes, without a passport, and without a
- farthing in his pocket into the bargain! Even supposing that someone may have given
- him a lift on the way, still that in itself would be a mark of God's special providence
- and care for him. That boy of mine, mark you, enjoyed the fruits of prayer,' concluded
- this gentleman, 'and here am I, an old man, still not as far on as he.'
- "Later on I said to him, 'It is a splendid book, sir, the one by Gregory Palamas,
- which you said you liked reading. I know it. But it treats rather of the oral prayer of
- Jesus. You should read a book called The Philokalia. There you will find a full and
- complete study of how to reach the spiritual prayer of Jesus in the mind and heart
- also, and taste the sweet fruit of it.' At the same time I showed him my Philokalia. I
- saw that he was pleased to have this advice of mine, and he promised that he would
- get a copy for himself. And in my own mind I dwelt upon the wonderful ways in which
- the power of God is shown in this prayer. What wisdom and teaching there was in the
- story I had just heard! The cane taught the prayer to the boy, and what is more, as a
- means of consolation it became a help to him. Are not our own sorrows and trials
- which we meet with on the road of prayer in the same way the rod in God's hand?
- Why then are we so frightened and troubled when our heavenly Father in the fullness
- of His boundless love lets us see them, and when these rods teach us to be more
- earnest in learning to pray, and lead us on to consolation which is beyond words?"
- 76:
- When I came to the end of the things I had to tell, I said to my spiritual father,
- "Forgive me, in God's name. I have already chattered far too much. And the holy
- Fathers call even spiritual talk mere babble if it lasts too long. It is time I went to find
- my fellow-traveler to Jerusalem. Pray for me, a miserable sinner, that of His great
- mercy God may bless my journey."
- "With all my heart I wish it, dear brother in the Lord," he replied. "May all the all-
- loving grace of God shed its light on your path, and go with you, as the angel
- Raphael went with Tobias!"
- The starets. A year had gone by since I last saw the pilgrim, when at length a gentle
- knock on the door and a pleading voice announced the arrival of that devout brother
- to the hearty welcome which awaited him.
- "Come in, dear brother; let us thank God together for blessing your journey and
- bringing you back."
- The Pilgrim. Praise and thanks be to the Father on high for His bounty in all
- things, which He orders as seems good to Him, and always for the good of us
- pilgrims and strangers in a strange land. Here am I, a sinner, who left you last year,
- again by the mercy of God thought worthy to see and hear your joyful welcome. And
- of course you are waiting to hear from me a full account of the holy city of God,
- Jerusalem, for which my soul was longing and toward which my purpose was firmly
- set. But what we wish is not always carried out, and so it was in my case. And no
- wonder, for why should I, a wretched sinner, be thought fit to tread that holy ground
- on which the divine footsteps of our Lord Jesus Christ were printed?
- You remember, Father, that I left here last year with a deaf old man as a
- companion, and that I had a letter from a merchant of Irkutsk to his son at Odessa
- asking him to send me to Jerusalem. Well, we got to Odessa all right in no very long
- time. My companion at once booked passage on a ship for Constantinople and set
- off. I for my part set about finding the merchant's son, by the address on the letter. I
- soon found his house, but there, to my surprise and sorrow, I learned that my
- benefactor was no longer alive. He had been dead and buried three weeks before,
- after a short illness. This made me very much cast down. But still, I trusted in the
- power of God. The whole household was in mourning, and the widow, who was left
- 77:
- with three small children, was in such distress that she wept all the time and several
- times a day would collapse in grief. Her sorrow was so great that it seemed as
- though she too would not live long. All the same, in the midst of all this, she met me
- kindly, though in such a state of affairs she could not send me to Jerusalem. But she
- asked me to stay with her for a fortnight or so until her father-in-law came to Odessa,
- as he had promised, to settle the affairs of the bereaved family.
- So I stayed. A week passed, a month, then another. But instead of coming, the
- merchant wrote to say that his own affairs would not allow him to come, and advising
- that she should pay off the assistants and that all should go to him at Irkutsk at once.
- So a great bustle and fuss began, and as I saw they were no longer interested in me,
- I thanked them for their hospitality and said good-bye. Once more I set off wandering
- about Russia.
- I thought and thought. Where was I to go now? In the end I decided that first of all
- I would go to Kiev, where I had not been for many years. So I set off. Of course I
- fretted at first because I had not been able to carry out my wish to go to Jerusalem,
- but I reflected that even this had not happened without the providence of God, and I
- quieted myself with the hope that God, the lover of men, would take the will for the
- deed, and would not let my wretched journey be without edification and spiritual
- value. And so it turned out, for I came across the sort of people who showed me
- many things that I did not know, and for my salvation brought light to my dark soul.
- If that necessity had not sent me on this journey, I should not have met those spiritual
- benefactors of mine.
- So by day I walked along with the prayer, and in the evening when I halted for the
- night I read my Philokalia, for the strengthening and stimulating of my soul in its
- struggle with the unseen enemies of salvation.
- On the road about forty-five miles from Odessa I met with an astonishing thing.
- There was a long train of wagons loaded with goods; there were about thirty of them,
- and I overtook them. The foremost driver, being the leader, was walking beside his
- horse, and the others were walking in a group some way from him. The road led past
- a pond which had a stream running through it, and in which the broken ice of the
- spring season was whirling about and piling up on the edges with a horrible noise. All
- 78:
- of a sudden the leading driver, a young man, stopped his horse, and the whole line of
- carts behind had to come to a standstill too.. The other drivers came running up to
- him and saw that he had begun to undress. They asked him why he was undressing.
- He answered that he very much wanted to bathe in the pond. Some of the
- astonished drivers began to laugh at him, others to scold him, calling him mad, and
- the eldest there, his own brother, tried to stop him, giving him a push to make him
- drive on. The other defended himself and had not the least wish to do as he was told.
- Several of the young drivers started getting water out of the pond in the buckets with
- which they watered the horses, and for a joke splashed it over the man who wanted
- to bathe, on his head, or from behind, saying, "There you are; we'll give you a bath."
- As soon as the water touched his body, he cried out, "Ah, that's good," and sat down
- on the ground. They went on throwing water over him. Thereupon he soon lay down,
- and then and there quietly died.
- They were all in a great fright, having no idea why it had happened. The older ones
- bustled about, saying that the authorities ought to be told, while the rest came to the
- conclusion that it was his fate to meet this kind of death.
- I stayed with them about an hour and then went on my way. About three and a
- half miles farther on I saw a village on the high road, and as I came into it I met an
- old priest walking along the street. I thought I would tell him about what I had just
- seen and find out what he thought about it. The priest took me into his house, and I
- told him the story and asked him to explain to me the cause of what had taken place.
- "I can tell you nothing about it, dear brother, except perhaps this, that there are
- many wonderful things in nature which our minds cannot understand. This, I think, is
- so ordered by God in order to show men the rule and providence of God in nature
- more clearly, through certain cases of unnatural and direct changes in its laws. It
- happens that I myself was once a witness of a similar case. Near our village there is
- a very deep and steep-sided ravine, not very wide, but some seventy feet or more in
- depth. It is quite frightening to look down to the gloomy bottom of it. A sort of
- footbridge has been built over it. A peasant in my parish, a family man and very
- respectable, suddenly, for no reason, was taken with an irresistible desire to throw
- himself from this little bridge into that deep ravine. He fought against the idea and
- 79
- resisted the impulse for a whole week. In the end, he could hold himself back no
- longer. He got up early, rushed off, and jumped into the abyss. They soon heard his
- groans and with great difficulty pulled him out of the pit with his legs broken. When he
- was asked the reason for his fall, he answered that although he was now feeling a
- great deal of pain, yet he was calm in spirit, that he had carried out the irresistible
- desire which had worried him so for a whole week, and that he had been ready to risk
- his life to gratify his wish.
- "He was a whole year in hospital getting better. I used to go to see him and often
- saw the doctors who were round him. Like you, I wanted to hear from them the cause
- of the affair. With one voice the doctors answered that it was 'frenzy.' When I asked
- them for a scientific explanation of what that was, and what caused it to attack a man,
- I could get nothing more out of them, except that this was one of the secrets of nature
- which were not revealed to science. I for my part observed that if in such a mystery of
- nature a man were to turn to God in prayer, and also to tell good people about it, then
- this ungovernable 'frenzy' of theirs would not attain its purpose.
- "Truly there is much to be met with in human life of which we can have no clear
- understanding."
- While we were talking it was getting dark, and I stayed the night there. In the
- morning the mayor sent his secretary to ask the priest to bury the dead jnan in the
- cemetery, and to say that the doctors, after a postmortem, had found no signs
- whatever of madness, and gave a sudden stroke as the cause of death.
- "Look at that now," said the priest to me, "medical science can give no precise
- reason for his uncontrollable urge toward the water."
- And so I said good-bye to the priest and went on my way. After I had traveled for
- several days and was feeling rather done-up, I came to a good-sized commercial
- town called Byelaya Tserkov. As evening was already coming on, I started to look
- around for a lodging for the night. In the market I came across a man who looked as
- though he were a traveler too. He was making inquiries among the shops for the
- address of a certain person who lived in the place. When he saw me he came up to
- me and said, "You look as though you are a pilgrim too, so let's go together and find
- a man by the name of Evreinov who lives in this town. He is a good Christian and
- keeps a splendid inn, and he welcomes pilgrims. Look, I've got something written
- 80:
- down about him." I gladly agreed, and so we soon found his house. Although the host
- himself was not at home, his wife, a nice old woman, received us very kindly and
- gave us an out-of-the-way private little garret in the attic to rest in. We settled down
- and rested for a while.
- Then our host came and asked us to have supper with them. During supper we
- talked—who we were and where we came from—and somehow or other the talk
- came round to the question of why he was called Evreinov. "I'll tell you an odd thing
- about that," he said, and began his story.
- "You see, it was like this. My father was a Jew. He was born at Shklov, and he
- hated Christians. From his very earliest years he was preparing to be a rabbi and
- studied hard at all the Jewish chitchat which was meant to disprove Christianity. One
- day he happened to be going through a Christian cemetery. He saw a human skull,
- which must have been taken out of some grave that had been recently disturbed. It
- had both its jaws, and there were some horrible-looking teeth in them. In a fit of
- temper he began to jeer at this skull; he spat at it, abused it, and spurned it with his
- foot. Not content with that, he picked it up and stuck it on a post—as they stick up the
- bones of animals to drive off greedy birds. After amusing himself in this way, he went
- home. The following night he had scarcely fallen asleep when suddenly an unknown
- man appeared to him and violently upbraided him, saying, 'How dare you insult what
- is left of my poor bones? I am a Christian—but as for you, you are the enemy of
- Christ.' The vision was repeated several times every night, and he got neither sleep
- nor rest. Then the same sight started flashing before his eyes during the daytime
- also, and he would hear the echo of that reproachful voice. As time went on, the
- vision got more frequent, and in the end he began to feel depressed and frightened
- and to lose strength. He went to his rabbi, who read prayers and exorcisms over him.
- But the apparition not only did not cease; it got even more frequent and threatening.
- "This state of affairs became known, and, hearing about it, a business friend of
- his, a Christian, began to advise him to accept the Christian religion, and to urge
- upon him that apart from that there was no way of ridding himself of this disturbing
- apparition of his. But the Jew was loath to take this step. However, in reply he said, 'I
- would gladly do as you wish, if only I could be free from this tormenting and
- intolerable apparition.' The Christian was glad to hear this, and persuaded him to
- 81
- send in to the local bishop a request for baptism and reception into the Christian
- church. The request was'written, and the Jew, not very eagerly, signed it. And lo and
- behold, the very minute that the request was signed, the apparition came to an end
- and never troubled him again. His joy was unbounded, and entirely at rest in mind,
- he felt such a burning faith in Jesus Christ that he went straight away to the bishop,
- told him the whole story, and expressed a heartfelt desire to be christened. He
- eagerly and quickly learned the dogmas of the Christian faith, and after his baptism
- he came to live in this town. Here he married my mother, a good Christian woman.
- He led a devout and very comfortable life and he was most generous to the poor. He
- taught me to be the same and before his death gave me his instructions about this,
- together with his blessing. There you are—that's why my name is Evreinov."16
- I listened to this story with reverence and humility, and I thought to myself, "How
- good and kind our Lord Jesus Christ is, and how great is His love! In what different
- ways He draws sinners to Himself. With what wisdom He uses things of little
- importance to lead on to great things. Who could have expected that the mischievous
- pranks of a Jew with some dead bones would bring him to the true knowledge of
- Jesus Christ and be the means of leading him to a devout life?"
- After supper we thanked God and our host and retired to our garret. We did not
- want to go to bed yet, so we went on talking to each other. My companion told me
- that he was a merchant of Mogilev, and that he had spent two years in Bessarabia as
- a novice in one of the monasteries there, but only with a passport that expired at a
- fixed date. He was now on his way home to get the consent of the merchant
- community to his finally entering upon the monastic life. "The monasteries there
- satisfy me, their constitution and order, and the strict life of many devout startsi who
- live there." He assured me that putting the Bessarabian monasteries beside the
- Russian was like comparing heaven with earth. He urged me to do the same.
- While we were talking about these things they brought still a third lodger into our
- room. This was a noncommissioned officer, with the army for the time being, but now
- going home on leave. We saw that he was tired out with his journey. We said our
- prayers together and lay down to sleep. We were up early next morning and began to
- get ready for the road, and we only just wanted to go and thank our host, when
- 82
- suddenly we heard the bells ringing for matins. The merchant and I began to consider
- what we would do. How could we start after hearing the bells and without going to
- church? It would be better to stay to matins, say our prayers in church, and then we
- should go off more happily. So we decided, and we called the officer. But he said,
- "What's the point of going to church while you are on a journey? What good is it to
- God if we have been? Let's get off home and then say our prayers. You two go if you
- want. I'm not going. By the time you have stood through matins I shall be three or
- four miles or so farther on my way, and I want to get home as quickly as possible."
- To this the merchant said, "Look here, brother, don't you run so far ahead with your
- schemes until you know what God's plans are!" So we went to church, and he took
- the road.
- We stayed through matins and the liturgy too. Then we went back to our garret to
- get our knapsacks ready for the start, when what do we see but our hostess bringing
- in the samovar. "Where are you off to?" she says. "You must have a cup of tea—yes,
- and have dinner with us too. We can't send you away hungry." So we stayed. We
- had not been sitting at the samovar for half an hour, when all of a sudden our
- noncommissioned officer comes running in, all out of breath.
- "I've come to you in both sorrow and joy."
- "What's all this?" we asked him.
- This is what he said:
- "When I left you and started off, I thought I would look in at the pub to get change for
- a note, and have a drink at the same time so as to get along better. So I did. I got my
- change, had my drink, and was off like a bird. When I had gone about two miles I had
- a mind to count the money the fellow at the pub had given me. I sat down by the
- roadside, took out my pocketbook, and went through it. All serene. Then suddenly it
- struck me that my passport was not there—only some papers and the money. I was
- as frightened as if I'd lost my head. I saw in a flash what had happened. Of course I
- had dropped it when I was settling up at the pub. I must run back. I ran and ran.
- Another awful idea seized me— suppose it's not there! That will mean trouble! I
- rushed up to the man behind the bar and asked him. 'I've not seen it,' he said. And
- was I downhearted! Well, I searched around and hunted everywhere, wherever I had
- stood and hung about. And what do you think? I was lucky enough to find my
- 83
- passport. There it was, still folded up and lying on the floor among the straw and
- litter, all trampled in the dirt. Thank God! I was glad, I can tell you; it was as though a
- mountain had rolled off my shoulders. Of course it was filthy and coated with mud,
- enough to get me a clout on the head; still, that doesn't matter. At any rate I can get
- home and back again with a whole skin. But I came to tell you about it. And what's
- more, in my fright I've rubbed my foot absolutely raw with running and I can't possibly
- walk. So I came to ask for some grease to bandage it up with."
- "There you are, brother," the merchant began, "that's because you wouldn't listen
- and come with us to church. You wanted to get a long way ahead of us, and, on the
- contrary, here you are back again, and lame into the bargain. I told you not to run so
- far ahead with your schemes; and now see how it has turned out. It was a small thing
- that you did not come to church, but besides that you used such language as, 'What
- good does it do God if we pray?' That, brother, was bad. Of course, God does not
- need our sinful prayers, but still, in His love for us He likes us to pray. And it is not
- only that holy prayer which the Holy Spirit Himself helps us to offer and arouses in us
- that is pleasing to Him, for He asks that of us when He says 'Abide in Me, and I in
- you'; but every intention, every impulse, even every thought which is directed to
- His glory and our own salvation is of value in His sight. For all these the boundless
- loving kindness of God gives bountiful rewards. The love of God gives grace a
- thousand fold more than human actions deserve. If you give Him the merest mite, He
- will pay you back with gold. If you but purpose to go to the Father, He will come out to
- meet you. You say but a word, short and unfeeling— 'Receive me, have mercy on
- me'—and He falls on your neck and kisses you. That is what the love of the heavenly
- Father is like toward us, unworthy as we are. And simply because of this love He
- rejoices in every gesture we make toward salvation, however small. It looks like this
- to you: What glory is there for God, what advantage for you, if you pray a little and
- then your thoughts wander again, or if you do some small good deed, such as
- reading a prayer, making five or ten acts of reverence, or giving a heartfelt sigh and
- calling upon the name of Jesus, or attending to some good thought, or setting
- yourself to some spiritual reading, or abstaining from some food, or bearing an affront
- in silence—all that seems to you not enough for your full salvation and a fruitless
- thing to do. No! None of these small acts is in vain; it will be taken into account by the
- 84:
- all-seeing eye of God and receive a hundredfold reward, not only in eternity, but in
- this life. St. John Chrysostom asserts this. 'No good of any sort,' he says, 'however
- trifling it may be, will be scorned by the righteous judge. If sins are searched out in
- such detail that we shall give an answer for words and desires and thoughts, then so
- much the more good deeds, however small they are, will be taken into account in all
- detail, and will be reckoned to our merit before our judge, who is full of love.'
- "I will tell you a case which I saw myself last year. In the Bessarabian monastery
- where I lived there was a starets, a monk of good life. One day a temptation beset
- him. He felt a great longing for some dried fish. And as it was impossible to get any in
- the monastery at that time, he was planning to go to the market and buy some. For a
- long while he struggled against the idea, and reasoned with himself that a monk
- ought to be content with the ordinary food provided for the brothers and by all means
- to avoid self-indulgence. Moreover, to walk about the market among crowds of
- people was also for a monk a source of temptation, and unseemly. In the end the lies
- of the enemy got the upper hand of his reasoning and he, yielding to his self-will,
- made up his mind and went for the fish. After he had left the building and was going
- along the street, he noticed that his rosary was not in his hand, and he began to
- think, 'How comes this, that I am going like a soldier without his sword? This is most
- unseemly. And layfolk who meet me will criticize me and fall into temptation, seeing a
- monk without his rosary!' He was going back to get it, but, feeling in his pocket, he
- found it there. He pulled it out, crossed himself, and with his rosary in his hand went
- calmly on. As he got near the market he saw a horse standing by a shop with a great
- cartload of enormous tubs. All at once this horse, taking fright at something or other,
- bolted with all its might and with thundering hoofs made straight for him, grazing his
- shoulder and throwing him to the ground, though not hurting him very much. Then, a
- couple of paces from him, that load toppled over and the cart was smashed to
- splinters. Getting up quickly, naturally he was frightened enough, but at the same
- time he marveled how God had saved his life, for if the load had fallen a split second
- earlier, then he would have been smashed to pieces like the cart. Thinking no further
- about it, he bought the fish, went back, ate it, said his prayers, and lay down to sleep.
- 85:
- "He slept lightly, and in his sleep a benign-looking starets whom he did not know
- appeared to him, and said, 'Listen, I am the protector of this dwelling, and I wish to
- teach you so that you will understand and remember the lesson now given you. Look
- now: The feeble effort you made against the feeling of pleasure, and your sloth in
- self-understanding and self-control, gave the enemy his chance to attack you. He
- had got ready for you that fatal bombshell which exploded before your eyes. But your
- guardian angel foresaw this and put into your mind the thought of offering a prayer
- and remembering your rosary. Since you listened to this suggestion, obeyed, and put
- it into action, it was just this that saved you from death. Do you see God's love for
- men, and His bountiful reward of even a slight turning toward Him?' Saying this, the
- visionary starets quickly left the cell. The monk bowed down at his feet, and in doing
- so woke up, to find himself, not on his bed, but kneeling prostrate at the threshold of
- the door. He told the story of this vision for the spiritual benefit of many people,
- myself among them.
- "Truly boundless is the love of God for us sinners. Is it not marvelous that so
- small an action—yes, just taking his rosary out of his pocket and carrying it in his
- hand and calling once upon the name of God—should give a man his life, and that in
- the scales of judgment upon men one short moment of callihg upon Jesus Christ
- should outweigh many hours of sloth? In truth, here is the repayment of the tiny mite
- with gold. Do you see, brother, how powerful prayer is and how mighty the name of
- Jesus when we call upon it? St. John Karpathisky in The Philokalia says that when in
- the prayer of Jesus we call upon the holy name and say, 'Have mercy on me, a
- sinner,' then to every such petition the voice of God answers in secret, 'Son, thy sins
- be forgiven thee.' And he goes on to say that when we say the prayer there is at that
- moment nothing to distinguish us from the saints, confessors, and martyrs. For, as
- St. Chrysostom says, 'Prayer, although we are full of sin when we utter it,
- immediately cleanses us. God's loving-kindness to us is great, yet we sinners are
- listless, are not willing to give even one small hour to God in thanksgiving, and barter
- the time of prayer, which is more important than anything, for the bustle and cares of
- living, forgetting God and our duty. For that reason we often meet with misfortunes
- and calamities, yet even these the all-loving providence of God uses for our
- instruction and to turn our hearts to Him.'"
- 86:
- When the merchant came to the end of his talk to the officer, I said to him, "What
- comfort you have brought to my sinful soul too, your honor! I could bow down to your
- very feet." Hearing this, he began to speak to me. "Ah, it seems you are a lover of
- religious stories. Wait a moment and I'll read you another like the one I have just told
- him. I've got here a book I travel with called Agapia, or The Salvation of Sinners.
- There are a lot of wonderful things in it."
- He took the book out of his pocket and started reading a most beautiful story
- about one Agathonik, a devout man who from his childhood had been taught by
- pious parents to say every single day before the icon of the Mother of God the prayer
- which begins "Rejoice, God-bearing maiden." And this he always did. Later, when he
- had grown up and started life on his own, he got absorbed in the cares and fuss of
- life and said the prayer but rarely, and finally gave it up altogether.
- One day he gave a pilgrim a lodging for the night, who told him he was a hermit
- from the Thebaid and that he had seen a vision in which he was told to go to
- Agathonik and rebuke him for having given up the prayer to the Mother of God.
- Agathonik said the reason was that he had said the prayer for many years without
- seeing any result whatever. Then the hermit said to him, "Remember, blind and
- thankless one, how many times this prayer has helped you and saved you from
- disaster. Remember how in your youth you were wonderfully saved from drowning?
- Do you not recall that an epidemic of infectious disease carried off many of your
- friends to the grave, but you remained in health? Do you remember, when you were
- driving with a friend, you both fell out of the cart; he broke his leg, but you were
- unhurt? Do you not know that a young man of your acquaintance who used to be well
- and strong is now lying weak and ill, whereas you are in good health and feel no
- pain?" And he reminded Agathonik of many other things. In the end he said, "Know
- this, that all those troubles were warded off from you by the protection of the most
- holy Mother of God because of that short prayer, by which you lifted up your heart
- every day into union with God. Take care now, go on with it, and do not give up
- praising the queen of heaven lest she should forsake you."
- When he had finished reading, they called us to dinner, and afterward, feeling our
- strength renewed, we thanked our host and took the road. We parted, and each went
- his own way as seemed best to him.
- 87:
- After that I walked on for about five days, cheered by the memory of the stories I
- had heard from the good merchant in Byelaya Tserkov, and I began to get near to
- Kiev. All at once and for no reason at all I began to feel dull and heavy, and my
- thoughts got gloomy and dispirited. The prayer went with difficulty and a sort of
- indolence came over me. So, seeing a wood with a thick undergrowth of bushes by
- the side of the road, I went into it to rest a bit, looking for some out-of-the-way place
- where I could sit under a bush and read my Philokalia, and so arouse my feeble spirit
- and comfort my faintheartedness. I found a quiet place and began to read Kassian
- the Roman in the fourth part of The Philokalia— on the eight thoughts. When I had
- been reading happily for about half an hour, quite unexpectedly I noticed the figure of
- a man some hundred yards or so away from me and farther in the forest. He was
- kneeling quite motionless. I was glad to see this, for I gathered, of course, that he
- was praying, and I began to read again. I went on reading for an hour or more and
- then glanced up again. The man was still kneeling there and never stirred. All this
- moved me very much and I thought, "What devout servants of God there are!"
- As I was turning it over in my mind, the man suddenly fell to the ground and lay
- still. This startled me, and as I had not seen his face, for he had been kneeling with
- his back to me, I felt curious to go and see who he was. When I got to him I found
- him in a light sleep. He was a country lad, a young fellow of about twenty-five. He
- had an attractive face, good-looking, but pale. He was dressed in a peasant's caftan
- with a bast rope for a girdle. There was nothing else to note about him. He had no
- kotomka,17 not even a stick. The sound of my approach awoke him, and he got up. I
- asked him who he was, and he told me he was a state peasant of the Smolensk
- government and that he was on his way from Kiev. "And where are you going to
- now?" I asked.
- "I don't know myself where God will lead me," he answered.
- "Is it long since you left home?"
- "Yes, over four years."
- "And where have you been living all that time?"
- "I have been going from shrine to shrine and to monasteries and churches. There
- was no point in staying at home. I'm an orphan and I have no relations. Besides, I've
- got a lame foot. So I'm roaming about the wide world."
- 88:
- "Some God-fearing person, it seems, has taught you not just to roam anywhere,
- but to visit holy places," said I.
- "Well, you see," he answered, "having no father or mother, I used to go about as
- a boy with the shepherds of our village, and all went happily enough till I was ten
- years old. Then one day when I had brought the flock home I never noticed that the
- starosta's18 very best sheep was not among them. And our starosta was a bad and
- inhuman peasant. When he came home that evening and found that his sheep was
- lost, he rushed at me abusing and threatening. If I didn't go off and find the sheep, he
- swore he'd beat me to death, and 'I'll break your arms and legs,' he said. Knowing
- how cruel he was, I went after the sheep, searching the places where they had been
- feeding in daylight. I searched and searched for more than half the night, but there
- was not a trace of it anywhere. It was such a dark night, too, for it was getting on
- toward autumn. When I had got very deep into the forest—and in our government the
- forests are endless—suddenly a storm came up. It was as though the trees were all
- rocking. In the distance, wolves started howling. Such a terror fell upon me that my
- hair stood on end. What's more, it all got more and more horrible, so that I was ready
- to drop with fear and horror. Then I fell on my knees and crossed myself, and with all
- my heart I said, 'Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.' As soon as I had said that I
- felt absolutely at peace, straight away, as if I had never been in any distress at all. All
- my fear left me, and I felt as happy in my heart as if I had flown away to heaven. This
- made me very glad, and—well, I just didn't stop saying the prayer. To this day I don't
- know whether the storm lasted long and how the night went. I looked up and daylight
- was coming, and there was I still kneeling in the same place. I got up quietly, I saw I
- shouldn't find the sheep, and home I went. But all was well in my heart, and I was
- saying the prayer to my heart's content. As soon as I got to the village the starosta
- saw I hadn't brought the sheep back and thrashed me till I was half dead—he put this
- foot out of joint, you see. I was laid up, almost unable to move, for six weeks after
- that beating. All I knew was that I was saying the prayer and it comforted me. When I
- got a bit better I began to wander about in the world, and as to be continually jostling
- about in a crowd didn't interest me, and meant a good deal of sin, I took to roaming
- from one holy place to another, and in the forests too. That's how I have spent nearly
- five years now."
- 89
- When 1 heard this, my heart was very glad that God had thought me fit to meet so
- good a man, and I asked him, "And do you often use the prayer now?"
- "I couldn't exist without it," he answered. "Why, if I only just call to mind how I felt
- that first time in the forest, it's just as if someone pushed me down on my knees, and
- I begin to pray. I don't know whether my sinful prayer is pleasing to God or not. For
- as I pray, sometimes I feel a great happiness—why, I don't know—a lightness of
- spirit, a happy sort of quiet; but at other times I feel a dull heaviness and lowness of
- spirits. But for all that, I want to go on praying always till I die."
- "Don't be distressed, dear brother. Everything is pleasing to God and for our
- salvation—everything, whatever it is that happens in time of prayer. So the holy
- Fathers say. Whether it's lightness of heart or heaviness, it's all all right. No prayer,
- good or bad, fails in God's sight. Lightness, warmth, and gladness show that God is
- rewarding and consoling us for the effort, while heaviness, darkness, and dryness
- mean that God is cleansing and strengthening the soul, and by this wholesome trial is
- saying it, preparing it in humility for the enjoyment of blessed happiness in the future.
- In proof of this I will read you something that St. John Klimax wrote."
- I found the passage and read it to him. He heard it through with care and enjoyed
- it, and he thanked me very much for it. And so we parted. He went off right into the
- depth of the forest and I went back to the road. I went on my way, thanking God for
- treating me, sinner as I am, as fit to be given such teaching.
- Next day, by God's help, I came to Kiev. The first and chief thing I wanted was to
- fast a while and to make my confession and communion in that holy town. So I
- stopped near the saints,19 as that would be easier for getting to church. A good old
- Cossack took me in, and as he lived alone in his hut, I found peace and quiet there.
- At the end of a week, in which I had been getting ready for my confession, the
- thought came to me that I would make it as detailed as I could. So I began to recall
- and go over all my sins from youth onward very fully, and so as not to forget it all I
- wrote down everything I could remember in the utmost detail. I covered a large sheet
- of paper with it.
- I heard that at Kitaevaya Pustina, about five miles from Kiev, there was a priest of
- ascetic life who was very wise and understanding. Whoever went to him for
- confession found an atmosphere offender compassion and came away with teaching
- 90:
- for his salvation and ease of spirit. I was very glad to hear of this, and I went to him at
- once. After I had asked his advice and we had talked awhile, I gave him my sheet of
- paper to see. He read it through and then said, "Dear friend, a lot of this that you
- have written is quite futile. Listen: First, don't bring into confession sins which you
- have already repented of and had forgiven. Don't go over them again, for that would
- be to doubt the power of the sacrament of penance. Next, don't call to mind other
- people who have been connected with your sins; judge yourself only. Thirdly, the
- holy Fathers forbid us to mention all the circumstances of the sins, and tell us to
- acknowledge them in general, so as to avoid temptation both for ourselves and for
- the priest. Fourthly, you have come to repent and you are not repenting of the fact
- that you can't repent—that is, your penitence is lukewarm and careless. Fifthly, you
- have gone over all these details, but the most important thing you have overlooked:
- you have not disclosed the gravest sins of all. You have not acknowledged, nor
- written down, that you do not love God, that you hate your neighbor, that you do not
- believe in God's Word, and that you are filled with pride and ambition. A whole mass
- of evil, and all our spiritual depravity is in these four sins. They are the chief roots out
- of which spring the shoots of all the sins into which we fall."
- I was very much surprised to hear this, and I said, "Forgive me, reverend Father,
- but how is it possible not to love God our creator and preserver? What is there to
- believe in if not the Word of God, in which everything is true and holy? I wish well to
- all my neighbors, and why should I hate them? I have nothing to be proud of; besides
- having numberless sins, I have nothing at all which is fit to be praised, and what
- should I with my poverty and ill-health lust after? Of course, if I were an educated
- man, or rich, then no doubt I should be guilty of the things you spoke of." "It's a pity,
- dear one, that you so little understood what I said. Look! It will teach you more quickly
- if I give you these notes. They are what I always use for my own confession. Read
- them through, and you will see clearly enough an exact proof of what I said to you
- just now."
- He gave me the notes, and I began to read them, as follows:
- A Confession which Leads the Inward Man to Humility
- Turning my eyes carefully upon myself and watching the course of my inward
- state, I have verified by experience that I do not love God, that I have no love for my
- 91
- neighbors, that I have no religious belief, and that I am filled with pride and
- sensuality. All this I actually find in myself as a result of detailed examination of my
- feelings and conduct, thus:
- 1. I do not love God. For if I loved God I should be continually thinking about Him
- with heartfelt joy. Every thought of God would give me gladness and delight. On the
- contrary, I much more often and much more eagerly think about earthly things, and
- thinking about God is labor and dryness. If I loved God, then talking with Him in
- prayer would be my nourishment and delight and would draw me to unbroken
- communion with Him. But, on the contrary, I not only find no delight in prayer, but
- even find it an effort. I struggle with reluctance, I am enfeebled by sloth and am ready
- to occupy myself eagerly with any unimportant trifle, if only it shortens prayer and
- keeps me from it. My time slips away unnoticed in futile occupations, but when I am
- occupied with God, when I put myself into His presence, every hour seems like a
- year. If one person loves another, he thinks of him throughout the day without
- ceasing, he pictures him to himself, he cares for him, and in all circumstances his
- beloved friend is never out of his thoughts. But I, throughout the day, scarcely set
- aside even a single hour in which to sink deep down into meditation upon God, to
- inflame my heart with love of Him, while I eagerly give up twenty-three hours as
- fervent offerings to the idols of my passions. I am forward in talk about frivolous
- matters and things which degrade the spirit; that gives me pleasure. But in the
- consideration of God I am dry, bored, and lazy. Even if I am unwillingly drawn by
- others into spiritual conversation, I try to shift the subject quickly to one which
- pleases my desires. I am tirelessly curious about novelties, about civic affairs and
- political events; I eagerly seek the satisfaction of my love of knowledge in science
- and art, and in ways of getting things I want to possess. But the study of the law of
- God, the knowledge of God and of religion, make little impression on me, and satisfy
- no hunger of my soul. I regard these things not only as a nonessential occupation for
- a Christian, but in a casual way as a sort of side-issue with which I should perhaps
- occupy my spare time, at odd moments. To put it shortly, if love for God is recognized
- by the keeping of His commandments ("If ye love Me, keep My commandments,"
- says our Lord Jesus Christ), and I not only do not keep them, but even make little
- attempt to do so, then in absolute truth the conclusion follows that I do not love God.
- 92
- That is what Basil the Great says: "The proof that a man does not love God and His
- Christ lies in the fact that he does not keep His commandments."
- 2. I do not love my neighbor either. For not only am I unable to make up my mind
- to lay down my life for his sake (according to the gospel), but I do not even sacrifice
- my happiness, well-being, and peace for the good of my neighbor. If I did love him as
- myself, as the gospel bids, his misfortunes would distress me also, his happiness
- would bring delight to me too. But, on the contrary, I listen to curious, unhappy stories
- about my neighbor, and I am not distressed; I remain quite undisturbed or, what is
- still worse, I find a sort of pleasure in them. Bad conduct on the part of my brother I
- do not cover up with love, but proclaim abroad with censure. His well-being, honor,
- and happiness do not delight me as my own, and, as if they were something quite
- alien to me, give me no feeling of gladness. What is more, they subtly arouse in me
- feelings of envy or contempt.
- 3. I have no religious belief. Neither in immortality nor in the gospel. If I were
- firmly persuaded and believed without doubt that beyond the grave lies eternal life
- and recompense for the deeds of this life, I should be continually thinking of this. The
- very idea of immortality would terrify me and I should lead this life as a foreigner who
- gets ready to enter his native land. On the contrary, I do not even think about
- eternity, and I regard the end of this earthly life as the limit of my existence. The
- secret thought nestles within me: Who knows what happens at death? If I say I
- believe in immortality, then I am speaking about my mind only, and my heart is far
- removed from a firm conviction about it. That is openly witnessed to by my conduct
- and my constant care to satisfy the life of the senses. Were the holy gospel taken into
- my heart in faith, as the Word of God, I should be continually occupied with it, I
- should study it, find delight in it, and with deep devotion fix my attention upon it.
- Wisdom, mercy, and love are hidden in it; it would lead me to happiness, I should find
- gladness in the study of the law of God day and night. In it I should find nourishment
- like my daily bread, and my heart would be drawn to the keeping of its laws. Nothing
- on earth would be strong enough to turn me away from it. On the contrary, if now and
- again I read or hear the Word of God, yet even so it is only from necessity or from a
- general love of knowledge, and approaching it without any very close attention I find
- 93
- it dull and uninteresting. I usually come to the end of the reading without any profit,
- only too ready to change over to secular reading in which I take more pleasure and
- find new and interesting subjects.
- 4. I am full of pride and sensual self-love. All my actions confirm this. Seeing
- something good in myself, I want to bring it into view, or to pride myself upon it before
- other people or inwardly to admire myself for it. Although I display an outward
- humility, yet I ascribe it all to my own strength and regard myself as superior to
- others, or at least no worse than they. If I notice a fault in myself, I try to excuse it; I
- cover it up by saying, "I am made like that" or "I am not to blame." I get angry with
- those who do not treat me with respect and consider them unable to appreciate the
- value of people. I brag about my gifts: my failures in any undertaking I regard as a
- personal insult. I murmur, and I find pleasure in the unhap- piness of my enemies. If I
- strive after anything good it is for the purpose of winning praise, or spiritual self-
- indulgence, or earthly consolation. In a word, I continually make an idol of myself and
- render it uninterrupted service, seeking in all things the pleasures of the senses and
- nourishment for my sensual passions and lusts.
- Going over all this I see myself as proud, adulterous, unbelieving, without love for
- God and hating my neighbor. What state could be more sinful? The condition of the
- spirits of darkness is better than mine. They, although they do not love God, hate
- men, and live upon pride, yet at least believe and tremble. But I? Can there be a
- doom more terrible than that which faces me, and what sentence of punishment will
- be more severe than that upon the careless and foolish life that I recognize in
- myself?
- On reading through this form of confession which the priest gave me I was
- horrified, and I thought to myself, "Good heavens! What frightful sins there are hidden
- within me, and up to now I've never noticed them!" The desire to be cleansed from
- them made me beg this great spiritual father to teach me how to know the causes of
- all these evils and how to cure them. And he began to instruct me.
- "You see, dear brother, the cause of not loving God is want of belief, want of
- belief is caused by lack of conviction, and the cause of that is failure to seek for holy
- and true knowledge, indifference to the light of the spirit. In a word, if you don't
- believe, you can't love; if you are not convinced, you can't believe, and in order to
- 94:
- reach conviction you must get a full and exact knowledge of the matter before you.
- By meditation, by the study of God's Word, and by noting your experience, you must
- arouse in your soul a thirst and a longing—or, as some call it, 'wonder'—which brings
- you an insatiable desire to know things more closely and more fully, to go deeper into
- their nature.
- "One spiritual writer speaks of it in this way: 'Love,' he says, 'usually grows with
- knowledge, and the greater the depth and extent of the knowledge the more love
- there will be, the more easily the heart will soften and lay itself open to the love of
- God, as it diligently gazes upon the very fullness and beauty of the divine nature and
- His unbounded love for men.'
- "So now you see that the cause of those sins which you read over is slothfulness
- in thinking about spiritual things, sloth which stifles the feeling of the need of such
- thought. If you want to know how to overcome this evil, strive after enlightenment of
- spirit by every means in your power, attain it by diligent study of the Word of God and
- of the holy Fathers, by the help of meditation and spiritual counsel, and by the
- conversation of those who are wise in Christ. Ah, dear brother, how much disaster we
- meet with just because we are lazy about seeking light for our souls through the word
- of truth. We do not study God's law day and night, and we do not pray about it
- diligently and unceasingly. And because of this our inner man is hungry and cold,
- starved, so that it has no strength to take a bold step forward upon the road of
- righteousness and salvation! And so, beloved, let us resolve to make use of these
- methods, and as often as possible fill our minds with thoughts of heavenly things;
- and love, poured down into our hearts from on high, will burst into flame within us.
- We will do this together and pray as often as we can, for prayer is the chief and
- strongest means for our renewal and well-being. We will pray, in the words holy
- church teaches us: 'O God, make me fit to love Thee now, as I have loved sin in the
- past.'"20 I listened to all this with care. Deeply moved, I asked this holy Father to hear
- my confession and to give me communion. And so next morning after the honor of
- my communion, I was for going back to Kiev with this blessed viaticum. But this good
- father of mine, who was going to the Lavra21 for a couple of days, kept me for that
- time in his hermit's cell, so that in its silence I might give myself up to prayer without
- hindrance. And, in fact, I did spend both those days as though I were in heaven. By
- 95:
- the prayers of my starets I, unworthy as I am, rejoiced in perfect peace. Prayer
- flowed out in my heart so easily and happily that during that time I think I forgot
- everything, and myself; in my mind was Jesus Christ and He alone.
- In the end, the priest came back, and I asked his guidance and advice—where
- should I go now on my pilgrim way? He gave me his blessing with these words, "You
- go to Pochaev, make your reverence there to the wonder-working footprint22 of the
- most pure mother of God, and she will guide your feet into the way of peace." And
- so, taking his advice in faith, three days later I set off for Pochaev.
- For some 130 miles or so I traveled none too happily, for the road lay through pot-
- houses and Jewish villages and I seldom came across a Christian dwelling. At one
- farm I noticed a Russian Christian inn and I was glad to see it. I turned in at it to
- spend the night and also to ask for some bread for my journey, for my rusks were
- coming to an end. Here I saw the host, an old man with a well-to-do air and who, I
- learned, came from the same government that I did—the Orlovsky. Directly I went
- into the room, his first question was, "What religion are you?"
- I replied that I was a Christian, and pravoslavny.23 "Pravoslavny, indeed," said he
- with a laugh. "You people are pravoslavny only in word—in act you are heathen. I
- know all about your religion, brother. A learned priest once tempted me and I tried it. I
- joined your church and stayed in it for six months. After that I came back to the ways
- of our society. To join your church is just a snare. The readers mumble the service all
- anyhow, with things missed out and things you can't understand. And the singing is
- no better than you hear in a pub. And the people stand all in a huddle, men and
- women all mixed up; they talk while the service is going on, turn round and stare
- about, walk to and fro, and give you no peace and quiet to say your prayers. What
- sort of worship do you call that? It's just a sin! Now, with us how devout the service
- is; you can hear what's said, nothing is missed out, the singing is most moving, and
- the people stand quietly, the men by themselves, the women by themselves, and
- everybody knows what reverence to make and when, as holy church directs. Really
- and truly, when you come into a church of ours, you feel you have come to the
- worship of God; but in one of yours you can't imagine what you've come to—to
- church or to market!"
- 96:
- From all this I saw that the old man was a diehard raskolnik.24 But he spoke so
- plausibly, I could not argue with him nor convert him. I just thought to myself that it
- will be impossible to convert the old believers to the true church until church services
- are put right among us and until the clergy in particular set an example in this. The
- raskolnik knows nothing of the inner life; he relies upon externals, and it is about
- them that we are careless.
- So I wanted to get away from here and had already gone out into the hall when to
- my surprise I saw through the open door of a private room a man who did not look
- like a Russian; he was lying on a bed and reading a book. He beckoned me and
- asked me who I was. I told him.
- And then he began, "Listen, dear friend. Won't you agree to look after a sick man,
- say for a week, until by God's help I get better? I am a Greek, a monk from Mount
- Athos. I'm in Russia to collect alms for my monastery, and on my way back I've fallen
- ill, so that I can't walk for the pain in my legs. So I've taken this room here. Don't say
- no, servant of God! I'll pay you."
- "There is no need whatever to pay me. I will very gladly look after you as best I
- can in the name of God." So I stayed with him. I heard a great deal from him about
- the things that concern the salvation of our souls. He told me about Athos, the holy
- mountain, about the great podvizhniki25 there, and about the many hermits and
- anchorites. He had with him a copy of The Philokalia in Greek, and a book by Isaac
- the Syrian. We read together and compared the Slavonic translation by Paisy
- Velichovsky with the Greek original. He declared that it would be impossible to
- translate from Greek more accurately and faithfully than The Philokalia had been
- turned into Slavonic by Paisy.
- As I noticed that he was always in prayer and versed in the inward prayer of the
- heart, and as he spoke Russian perfectly, I questioned him on this matter. He readily
- told me a great deal about it, and I listened with care. I even wrote down many things
- that he said. Thus, for example, he taught me about the excellence and greatness of
- the Jesus prayer in this way: "Even the very form of the Jesus prayer," he said,
- "shows what a great prayer it is. It is made up of two parts. In the first part, 'Lord
- Jesus Christ, Son of God,' it leads our thoughts to the life of Jesus Christ, or, as the
- 97:
- holy Fathers put it, it is the whole gospel in brief. In the second part, 'Have mercy on
- me, a sinner,' it faces us with the story of our own helplessness and sinfulness. And it
- is to be noted that the desire and petition of a poor, sinful, humble soul could not be
- put into words more wise, more clear-cut, more exact than these—'have mercy on
- me.' No other form of words would be as satisfying and full as this. For instance, if
- one said, 'Forgive me, put away my sins, cleanse my transgressions, blot out my
- offenses,' all that would express one petition only—asking to be set free from
- punishment, the fear of a fainthearted and listless soul. But to say 'have mercy on
- me' means not only the desire for pardon arising from fear, but is the sincere cry of
- filial love, which puts its hope in the mercy of God and humbly acknowledges it is too
- weak to break its own will and to keep a watchful guard over itself. It is a cry for
- mercy—that is, for grace— which will show itself in the gift of strength from God, to
- enable us to resist temptation and overcome our sinful inclinations. It is like a
- penniless debtor asking his kindly creditor not only to forgive him the debt but also to
- pity his extreme poverty and to give him alms—that is what these profound words
- 'have mercy on me' express. It is like saying, 'Gracious Lord, forgive me my sins and
- help me to put myself right; arouse in my soul a strong impulse to follow Thy bidding.
- Bestow Thy grace in forgiving my actual sins and in turning my heedless mind, will,
- and heart to Thee alone.'"
- Upon this I wondered at the wisdom of his words and thanked him for teaching my
- sinful soul, and he went on teaching me other wonderful things.
- "If you like," said he (and I took him to be something of a scholar, for he said he
- had studied at the Athens Academy), "I will go on and tell you about the tone in which
- the Jesus prayer is said. I happen to have heard many God-fearing Christian people
- say the oral Jesus prayer as the Word of God bids them and according to the
- tradition of holy church. They use it so both in their private prayers and in church. If
- you listen carefully and as a friend to this quiet saying of the prayer, you can notice
- for your spiritual profit that the tone of the praying voice varies with different people.
- Thus, some stress the very first word of the prayer and say Lord Jesus Christ, and
- then finish all the other words on one level tone. Others begin the prayer in a level
- voice and throw the stress in the middle of the prayer, on the word Jesus as an
- exclamation, and the rest, again, they finish in an unstressed tone, as they began.
- 98:
- Others, again, begin and go on with the prayer without stress until they come to the
- last words—Have mercy on me—when they raise their voices in ecstasy. And some
- say the whole prayer—Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner—
- with all the stress upon the single phrase Son of God.
- "Now listen. The prayer is one and the same. Orthodox Christians hold one and
- the same profession of faith. The knowledge is common to all of them that this
- sublime prayer of all prayers includes two things: the Lord Jesus and the appeal to
- Him. That is known to be the same for everybody. Why then do they not all express it
- in the same way, why not all in the same tone, that is? Why does the soul plead
- specially, and express itself with particular stress, not in one and the same place for
- all, but in a certain place for each ? Many say of this that perhaps it is the result of
- habit, or of copying other people, or that it depends upon a way of understanding the
- words which corresponds with the individual point of view, or finally that it is just as it
- comes most easily and naturally to each person. But I think quite differently about it. I
- should like to look for something higher in it, something unknown not only to the
- listener, but even to the person who is praying also. May there not be here a hidden
- moving of the Holy Spirit making intercession for us with groanings which cannot be
- uttered in those who do not know how and about what to pray? And if everyone prays
- in the name of Jesus Christ, by the Holy Spirit, as the Apostle says, the Holy Spirit,
- who works in secret and gives a prayer to him who prays, may also bestow His
- beneficent gift upon all, notwithstanding their lack of strength. To one He may give
- the reverent fear of God, to another love, to another firmness of faith, and to another
- gracious humility, and so on.
- "If this be so, then he who has been given the gift of revering and praising the
- power of the Almighty will in his prayers stress with special feeling the word Lord, in
- which he feels the greatness and the might of the creator of the world. He who has
- been given the secret outpouring of love in his heart is thrown into rapture and filled
- with gladness as he exclaims Jesus Christ, just as a certain starets could not hear
- the name of Jesus without a peculiar flood of love and gladness, even in ordinary
- conversation. The unshakable believer in the godhead of Jesus Christ, of one
- substance with the Father, is enkindled with still more fervent faith as he says the
- words Son of God. One who has received the gift of humility and is deeply aware of
- 99
- his own weakness, with the words have mercy on me is penitent and humbled, and
- pours out his heart most richly in these last words of the Jesus prayer. He cherishes
- hope in the loving kindness of God and abhors his own falling into sin. There you
- have the causes, in my opinion, of the differing tones in which people say the prayer
- in the name of Jesus. And from this you may note as you listen, to the glory of God
- and your own instruction, by what emotion anyone is specially moved, what spiritual
- gift any one person has. A number of people have said to me on this subject, 'Why
- do not all these signs of hidden spiritual gifts appear together and united? Then not
- only one, but every word of the prayer would be imbued with one and the same tone
- of rapture.' I have answered in this way: 'Since the grace of God distributes His gift in
- wisdom to every man severally according to his strength, as we see from holy
- Scripture, who can search out with his finite mind and enter into the dispositions of
- grace? Is not the clay completely in the power of the potter, and is he not able to
- make one thing or another out of the clay?'"
- I spent five days with this starets, and he began to get very much better in health.
- This time was of so much profit to me that I did not notice how quickly it went. For in
- that little room, in silent seclusion, we were concerned with nothing else whatever
- than silent prayer in the name of Jesus, or talk about the same subject, interior
- prayer.
- One day a pilgrim came to see us. He complained bitterly about the Jews and
- abused them. He had been going about their villages and had to put up with their
- unfriendliness and cheating. He was so bitter against them that he cursed them, even
- saying they were not fit to live because of their obstinacy and unbelief. Finally he said
- that he had such an aversion for them that it was quite beyond his control.
- "You have no right, friend," said the starets, "to abuse and curse the Jews like
- this. God made them just as He made us. You should be sorry for them and pray for
- them, not curse them. Believe me, the disgust you feel for them comes from the fact
- that you are not grounded in the love of God and have no interior prayer as a security
- and, therefore, no inward peace. I will read you a passage from the holy Fathers
- about this. Listen, this is what Mark the podvizhnik writes: 'The soul which is inwardly
- united to God becomes, in the greatness of its joy, like a good- natured, simple-
- hearted child, and now condemns no one, Greek, heathen, Jew, nor sinner, but looks
- 100:
- at them all alike with sight that has been cleansed, finds joy in the whole world, and
- wants everybody—Greeks and Jews and heathen—to praise God.' And Macarius the
- Great, of Egypt, says that the inward contemplative 'burns with so great a love that if
- it were possible he would have everyone dwell within him, making no difference
- between bad and good.' There, dear brother, you see what the holy Fathers think
- about it. So I advise you to lay aside your fierceness, and look upon everything as
- under the all-knowing providence of God, and when you meet with vexations accuse
- yourself especially of lack of patience and humility."
- At last more than a week went by and my starets got well, and I thanked him from
- my heart for all the blessed instruction that he had given me, and we said good-bye.
- He set off for home and I started upon the way I had planned. Now I began to get
- near to Pochaev. I had not gone more than seventy miles when a soldier overtook
- me, and I asked him where he was going. He told me he was going back to his native
- district in Kamenets Podolsk. We went along in silence for seven miles or so, and I
- noticed that he sighed very heavily as though something were distressing him, and
- he was very gloomy. I asked him why he was so sad.
- "Good friend, if you have noticed my sorrow and will swear by all you hold sacred
- never to tell anybody, I will tell you all about myself, for I am near to death and I have
- no one to talk to about it."
- I assured him, as a Christian, that I had not the slightest need to tell anybody
- about it, and that out of brotherly love I should be glad to give him any advice that I
- could.
- "Well, you see," he began, "I was drafted as a soldier from the state peasants.
- After about five years' service it became intolerably hard for me; in fact, they often
- flogged me for negligence and for drunkenness. I took it into my head to run away,
- and here I am a deserter for the last fifteen years. For six years I hid wherever I
- could. I stole from farms and larders and warehouses. I stole horses. I broke into
- shops and followed this sort of trade, always on my own. I got rid of my stolen goods
- in various ways. I drank the money, I led a depraved life, committed every sin. Only
- my soul didn't perish. I got on very well, but in the end I got into jail for wandering
- without a passport. But when a chance came I even escaped from there. Then
- unexpectedly I met with a soldier who had been discharged from the service and was
- 101
- going home to a distant government. As he was ill and could hardly walk he asked
- me to take him to the nearest village where he could find lodging. So I took him. The
- police allowed us to spend the night in a barn on some hay, and there we lay down.
- When I woke up in the morning I glanced at my soldier and there he was dead and
- stiff. Well, I hurriedly searched for his passport —that is to say, his discharge—and
- when I found it and a fair amount of money too, while everybody was still asleep, I
- was out of that shed and the backyard as quickly as I could, and so into the forest,
- and off I went. On reading his passport I saw that in age and distinguishing marks he
- was almost the same as 1.1 was very glad about this and went on boldly into the
- depths of the Astrakhan government. There I began to steady down a bit and I got a
- job as a laborer. I joined up with an old man there who had his own house and was a
- cattle dealer. He lived alone with his daughter, who was a widow. When I had lived
- with him for a year I married this daughter of his. Then the old man died. We could
- not carry on the business. I started drinking again, and my wife too, and in a year we
- had got through everything the old man had left. And then my wife took ill and died.
- So I sold everything that was left, and the house, and 1 soon ran through the money.
- "Now I had nothing to live on, nothing to eat. So I went back to my old trade of
- dealing in stolen goods, and all the more boldly now because I had a passport. So I
- took to my old evil life again for about a year. There came a time when for a long
- while I met with no success. I stole an old wretched horse from a bobil26 and I sold it
- to the knackers for a bob. Taking the money, I went off to a pub and began to drink. I
- had an idea of going to a village where there was a wedding, and while everybody
- was asleep after the feasting I meant to pick up whatever I could. As the sun had not
- yet set I went into the forest to wait for night. I lay down there and fell into a deep
- sleep. Then I had a dream and saw myself standing in a wide and beautiful meadow.
- Suddenly a terrible cloud began to rise in the sky, and then there came such a terrific
- clap of thunder that the ground trembled underneath me, and it was as though
- someone drove me up to my shoulders into the ground, which jammed against me on
- all sides. Only my head and my hands were left outside. Then this terrible cloud
- seemed to come down onto the ground and out of it came my grandfather, who had
- been dead for twenty years. He was a very upright man and for thirty years was a
- churchwarden in our village. With an angry and threatening face he came up to me
- 102
- and I shook with fear. Round about nearby I saw several heaps of things which I had
- stolen at various times. I was still more frightened. My grandfather came up to me
- and, pointing to the first heap, said threateningly, 'What is that? Let him have it!' And
- suddenly the ground on all sides of me began to squeeze me so hard that I could not
- bear the pain and the faint- ness. I groaned and cried out, 'Have mercy on me,' but
- the torment went on. Then my grandfather pointed to another heap and said again,
- 'What is that? Crush him harder!' And I felt such violent pain and agony that no
- torture on earth could compare with it. Finally, that grandfather of mine brought near
- me the horse that I had stolen the evening before, and cried out, 'And what is this?
- Let him have it as hard as you can.' And I got such pain from all sides that I can't
- describe it, it was so cruel, terrible, and exhausting. It was as though all my sinews
- were being drawn out of me and I was suffocated by the frightful pain. I felt I could
- not bear it and that I should collapse unconscious if that torture went on even a little
- bit longer. But the horse kicked out and caught me on the cheek and cut it open, and
- the moment I got that blow I woke up in utter horror and shaking like a weakling. I
- saw that it was already daylight, the sun was rising. I touched my cheek and blood
- was flowing from it; and those parts of me which in my dream had been in the ground
- were all hard and stiff and I had pins and needles in them. I was in such terror that I
- could hardly get up and go home. My cheek hurt for a long time. Look, you can see
- the scar now. It wasn't there before. And so, after this, fear and horror often used to
- come over me and now I only have to remember what I suffered in that dream for the
- agony and exhaustion to begin again and such torture that I don't know what to do
- with myself. What is more, it began to come more often, and in the end I began to be
- afraid of people and to feel ashamed as though everybody knew my past dishonesty.
- Then I could neither eat nor drink nor sleep because of this suffering. I was worn to a
- ravel. I did think of going to my regiment and making a clean breast of everything.
- Perhaps God would forgive my sins if I took my punishment. But I was afraid, and I
- lost my courage because they would make me run the gauntlet. And so, losing
- patience, I wanted to hang myself. But the thought came to me that in any case I
- shan't live for a very long time; I shall soon die, for I have lost all my strength. And so
- I thought I would go and say good-bye to my home and die there. I have a nephew at
- 103
- home. And here I am on my way there for six months now. And all the while grief and
- fear make me miserable. What do you think, my friend? What am I to do? I really
- can't bear much more."
- When I heard all this I was astonished, and I praised the wisdom and the
- goodness of God, as I saw the different ways in which they are brought to sinners. So
- I said to him, "Dear brother, during the time of that fear and agony you ought to have
- prayed to God. That is the great cure for all our troubles."
- "Not on your life!" he said to me. "I thought that directly I began to pray, God
- would destroy me."
- "Nonsense, brother; it is the devil puts thoughts like that into your head. There is
- no end to God's mercy and He is sorry for sinners and quickly forgives all who
- repent. Perhaps you don't know the Jesus prayer: 'Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on
- me, a sinner.' You go on saying that without stopping."
- "Why, of course I know that prayer. I used to say it sometimes to keep my
- courage up when I was going to do a robbery."
- "Now, look here. God did not destroy you when you were on your way to do
- something wrong and said the prayer. Will He do so when you start praying on the
- path of repentance? Now, you see how your thoughts come from the devil. Believe
- me, dear brother, if you will say that prayer, taking no notice of whatever thoughts
- come into your mind, then you will quickly feel relief. All the fear and strain will go,
- and in the end you will be completely at peace. You will become a devout man, and
- all sinful passions will leave you. I assure you of this, for I have seen a great deal of it
- in my time."
- After that I told him about several cases in which the Jesus prayer had shown its
- wonderful power to work upon sinners. In the end I persuaded him to come with me
- to the Pochaev Mother of God, the refuge of sinners, before he went home, and to
- make his confession and communion there.
- My soldier listened to all this attentively and, as I could see, with joy, and he
- agreed to everything. We went to Pochaev together on this condition, that neither of
- us should speak to the other, but that we should say the Jesus prayer all the time. In
- this silence we walked for a whole day. Next day he told me that he felt much easier,
- and it was plain that his mind was calmer than before. On the third day we arrived at
- 104:
- Pochaev, and I urged him again not to break off the prayer either day or night while
- he was awake, and assured him that the most holy name of Jesus, which is
- unbearable to our spiritual foes, would be strong to save him. On this point I read to
- him from The Philokalia that although we ought to say the Jesus prayer at all times, it
- is especially needful to do so with the utmost care when we are preparing for
- communion.
- So he did, and then he made his confession and communion. Although from time
- to time the old thoughts still came over him, yet he easily drove them away with the
- Jesus prayer. On Sunday, so as to be up for matins more easily, he went to bed
- earlier and went on saying the Jesus prayer. I still sat in the corner and read my
- Philokalia by a rushlight. An hour went past; he fell asleep and I set myself to prayer.
- All of a sudden, about twenty minutes later, he gave a start and woke up, jumped
- quickly out of bed, ran over to me in tears, and, speaking with the greatest
- happiness, he said, "Oh, brother, what I have just seen! How peaceful and happy I
- am; I believe that God has mercy upon sinners and does not torment them. Glory to
- Thee, O Lord, glory to Thee."
- I was surprised and glad and asked him to tell me exactly what had happened to
- him.
- "Why, this," he said. "Directly I fell asleep I saw myself in that meadow where they
- tortured me. At first I Was terrified, but I saw that, instead of a cloud, the bright sun
- was rising and a wonderful light was shining over the whole meadow. And I saw red
- flowers and grass in it. Then suddenly my grandfather came up to me, looking nicer
- than you ever saw, and he greeted me gently and kindly. And he said, 'Go to
- Zhitomir, to the Church of St. George. They will take you under church protection.
- Spend the rest of your life there and pray without ceasing. God will be gracious to
- you.' When he said this he made the sign of the cross over me and straight away
- vanished. I can't tell you how happy I felt; it was as though a load had been taken off
- my shoulders and I had flown away to heaven. At that point I woke up, feeling easy in
- my mind and my heart so full of joy that I didn't know what to do. What ought I to do
- now? I shall start straight away for Zhitomir, as my grandfather told me. I shall find it
- easy going with the prayer."
- 105:
- "But wait a minute, dear brother. How can you start off in the middle of the night?
- Stay for matins, say your prayers, and then start off with God."
- So we didn't go to sleep after this conversation. We went to church; he stayed all
- through matins, praying earnestly with tears, and he said that he felt very peaceful
- and glad and that the Jesus prayer was going on happily.
- Then after the liturgy he made his communion, and when we had had some food I
- went with him as far as the Zhitomir road, where we said good-bye with tears of
- gladness.
- After this I began to think about my own affairs. Where should I go now? In the
- end I decided that I would go back again to Kiev. The wise teaching of my priest
- there drew me that way, and, besides, if I stayed with him he might find some Christ-
- loving philanthropist who would put me on my way to Jerusalem or at least to Mount
- Athos. So I stopped another week at Pochaev, spending the time in recalling all I had
- learned from those I had met on this journey and in making notes of a number of
- helpful things. Then I got ready for the journey, put on my kotomka, and went to
- church to commend my journey to the Mother of God. When the liturgy was over I
- said my prayers and was ready to start. I was standing at the back of the church
- when a man came in, not very richly dressed, but clearly one of the gentry, and he
- asked me where the candles were sold. I showed him. At the end of the liturgy I
- stayed praying at the shrine of the footprint. When I had finished my prayers I set off
- on my way. I had gone a little way along the street when I saw an open window in
- one of the houses at which a man sat reading a book. My way took me past that very
- window and I saw that the man sitting there was the same one who had asked me
- about the candles in church. As I went by I took off my hat, and when he saw me he
- beckoned me to come to him, and said, "I suppose you must be a pilgrim?"
- "Yes," I answered.
- He asked me in and wanted to know who I was and where I was going. I told him
- all about myself and hid nothing. He gave me some tea and began to talk to me.
- "Listen, my little pigeon, I should advise you to go to the Solovetsky27 monastery.
- There is a very secluded and peaceful skeet28 there called Anzersky. It is like a
- second Athos and they welcome everybody there. The novitiate consists only in this:
- 106:
- that they take turns to read the psalter in church four hours out of the twenty-four. I
- am going there myself and I have taken a vow to go on foot. We might go together. I
- should be safer with you; they say it is a very lonely road. On the other hand, I have
- got money and I could supply you with food the whole way. And I should propose we
- went on these terms, that we walked half a dozen yards apart; then we should not be
- in each other's way, and as we went we could spend the time in reading all the while
- or in meditation. Think it over, brother, and do agree; it will be worth your while."
- When I heard this invitation I took this unexpected event as a sign for my journey
- from the Mother of God whom I had asked to teach me the way to blessedness. And
- without further thought I agreed at once. And so we set out the next day. We walked
- for three days, as we had agreed, one behind the other. He read a book the whole
- time, a book which never left his hand day or night; and at times he was meditating
- about something. At last we came to a halt at a certain place for dinner. He ate his
- food with the book lying open in front of him and he was continually looking at it. I
- saw that the book was a copy of the Gospels, and I said to him, "May I venture to
- ask, sir, why you never allow the Gospels out of your hand day or night? Why you
- always hold it and carry it with you?"
- "Because," he answered, "from it and it alone I am almost continually learning."
- "And what are you learning?" I went on.
- "The Christian life, which is summed up in prayer. I consider that prayer is the
- most important and necessary means of salvation and the first duty of every
- Christian. Prayer is the first step in the devout life and also its crown, and that is why
- the gospel bids unceasing prayer. To other acts of piety their own times are
- assigned, but in the matter of prayer there are no off times. Without prayer it is
- impossible to do any good and without the gospel you cannot learn properly about
- prayer. Therefore, all those who have reached salvation by way of the interior life, the
- holy preachers of the Word of God, as well as hermits and recluses, and indeed all
- God-fearing Christians, were taught by their unfailing and constant occupation with
- the depths of God's Word and by reading the gospel. Many of them had the gospel
- constantly in their hands, and in their teaching about salvation gave the advice, 'Sit
- down in the silence of your cell and read the gospel and read it again.' There you
- have the reason why I concern myself with the gospel alone."
- 107:
- I was very much pleased with this reasoning of his and with his eagerness for
- prayer. I went on to ask him from which gospel in particular he got the teaching about
- prayer. "From all four evangelists," he answered; "in a word, from the whole of the
- New Testament, reading it in order. I have been reading it for a long time and taking
- in the meaning, and it has shown me that there is a graduation and a regular chain of
- teaching about prayer in the holy gospels, beginning from the first evangelist and
- going right through in a regular order, in a system. For instance, at the very beginning
- there is laid down the approach, or the introduction to teaching about prayer; then the
- form or the outward expression of it in words. Farther on we have the necessary
- conditions upon & which prayer may be offered, the means of learning it, and
- examples; and finally the secret teaching about interior and spiritual ceaseless prayer
- in the name of Jesus Christ, which is set forth as higher and more salutary than
- formal prayer. And then comes its necessity, its blessed fruit, and so on. In a word,
- there is to be found in the gospel full and detailed knowledge about the practice of
- prayer, in systematic order or sequence from beginning to end."
- When I heard this I decided to ask him to show me all this in detail. So I said, "As
- I like hearing and talking about prayer more than anything else, I should be very glad
- indeed to see this secret chain of teaching about prayer in all its details. For the love
- of God, then, show me all this in the gospel itself."
- He readily agreed to this and said, "Open your gospel; look at it and make notes
- about what I say." And he gave me a pencil. "Be so good as to look at these notes of
- mine. Now," said he, "look out first of all in the Gospel of St. Matthew the sixth
- chapter, and read from the fifth to the ninth verses. You see that here we have the
- preparation or the introduction, teaching that not for vainglory and noisily, but in a
- solitary place and in quietude we should begin our prayer, and pray only for
- forgiveness of sins and for communion with God, and not devising many and
- unnecessary petitions about various worldly things as the heathen do. Then, read
- farther on in the same chapter, from the ninth to the fourteenth verses. Here the form
- of prayer is given to us—that is to say, in what sort of words it ought to be expressed.
- There you have brought together in great wisdom everything that is necessary and
- desirable for our life. After that, go on and read the fourteenth and fifteenth verses of
- the same chapter, and you will see the conditions it is necessary to observe so that
- 108:
- prayer may be effective. For unless we forgive those who have injured us, God will
- not forgive our sins. Pass on now to the seventh chapter, and you will find in the
- seventh to the twelfth verses how to succeed in prayer, to be bold in hope—ask,
- seek, knock. These strong expressions depict frequency in prayer and the urgency of
- practicing it, so that prayer shall not only accompany all actions but even come
- before them in time. This constitutes the principal property of prayer. You will see an
- example of this in the fourteenth chapter of St. Mark and the thirty-second to the
- fortieth verses, where Jesus Christ Himself repeats the same words of prayer
- frequently. St. Luke, chapter eleven, verses five to fourteen, gives a similar example
- of repeated prayer in the parable of the friend at midnight and the repeated request
- of the importunate widow (Luke 18:1-8), illustrating the command of Jesus Christ that
- we should pray always, at all times and in every place, and not grow discouraged—
- that is to say, not get lazy. After this detailed teaching we have shown to us in the
- Gospel of St. John the essential teaching about the secret interior prayer of the heart.
- In the first place we are shown it in the profound story of the conversation of Jesus
- Christ with the woman of Samaria, in which is revealed the interior worship of God 'in
- spirit and in truth' which God desires and which is unceasing true prayer, like living
- water flowing into eternal life Q°hn 4:5-25). Farther on, in the fifteenth chapter, verses
- four to eight, there is pictured for us still more decidedly the power and the might and
- the necessity of inward prayer—that is to say, of the presence of the spirit in Christ in
- unceasing remembrance of God. Finally, read verses twenty-three to twenty-five in
- the sixteenth chapter of the same evangelist. See what a mystery is revealed here.
- You notice that prayer in the name of Jesus Christ, or what is known as the Jesus
- prayer—that is to say, 'Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me'—when frequently
- repeated, has the greatest power and very easily opens the heart and blesses it. This
- is to be noticed very clearly in the case of the apostles, who had been for a whole
- year disciples of Jesus Christ, and had already been taught the Lord's Prayer by
- Him—that is to say, 'Our Father' (and it is through them that we know it). Yet at the
- end of His earthly life Jesus Christ revealed to them the mystery that was still lacking
- in their prayers. So that their prayer might make a definite step forward He said to
- them, 'Hitherto have ye asked nothing in My name. Verily I say unto you, whatsoever
- ye shall ask the Father in My name He will give it you.' And so it happened in their
- 109
- case. For, ever after this time, when the Apostles learned to offer prayers in the name
- of Jesus Christ, how many wonderful works they performed and what abundant light
- was shed upon them. Now, do you see the chain, the fullness of teaching about
- prayer deposited with such wisdom in the holy gospel? And if you go on after this to
- the reading of the Apostolic Epistles, in them also you can find the same successive
- teaching about prayer.
- "To continue the notes I have already given you I will show you several places
- which illustrate the properties of prayer. Thus, in the Acts of the Apostles the practice
- of it is described—that is to say, the diligent and constant exercise of prayer by the
- first Christians, who were enlightened by their faith in Jesus Christ (Acts 4:31). The
- fruits of prayer are told to us, or the results of being constantly in prayer—that is to
- say, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and His gifts upon those who pray. You will see
- something similar to this in the sixteenth chapter, verses twenty-five and twenty-six.
- Then follow it up in order in the apostolic Epistles and you will see (1) how necessary
- prayer is in all circumstances (James 5:13-16); (2) how the Holy Spirit helps us to
- pray Qude 20-21 and Rom. 8:26); (3) how we ought all to pray in the spirit (Eph.
- 6:18); (4) how necessary calm and inward peace are to prayer (Phil. 4:6, 7); (5) how
- necessary it is to pray without ceasing (1 Thess. 5:17); (6) and finally we notice that
- one ought to pray not only for oneself but also for all men (1 Tim. 2:1-5). Thus, by
- spending a long time with great care in drawing out the meaning we can find many
- more revelations still of secret knowledge hidden in the Word of God, which escape
- one if one reads it but rarely or hurriedly.
- "Do you notice, after what I have now shown you, with what wisdom and how
- systematically the New Testament reveals the teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ on
- this matter, which we have been tracing? In what a wonderful sequence it is put in all
- four evangelists? It is like this. In St. Matthew we see the approach, the introduction
- to prayer, the actual form of prayer, conditions of it, and so on. Go farther. In St. Mark
- we find examples. In St. Luke, parables. In St. John, the secret exercise of inward
- prayer, although this is also found in all four evangelists, either briefly or at length. In
- the Acts the practice of prayer and the results of prayer are pictured for us; in the
- apostolic Epistles, and in the Apocalypse itself, are many properties inseparably
- 110:
- connected with the act of prayer. And there you have the reason that I am content
- with the Gospels alone as my teacher in all the ways of salvation."
- All the while he was showing me this and teaching me I marked in the Gospels (in
- my Bible) all the places which he pointed out to me. It seemed to me most
- remarkable and instructive, and I thanked him very much.
- Then we went on for another five days in silence. My fellow-pilgrim's feet began to
- hurt him very much, no doubt because he was not used to continuous walking. So he
- hired a cart with a pair of horses and took me with him. And so we have come into
- your neighborhood and have stayed here for three days, so that when we have had
- some rest we can set off straight away to Anzersky, where he is so anxious to go.
- The Starets. This friend of yours is splendid. Judging from his piety he must be
- very well instructed. I should like to see him.
- The Pilgrim. We are stopping in the same place. Let me bring him to you
- tomorrow. It is late now. Good-bye. As I promised when I saw you yesterday, I have
- asked my revered fellow-pilgrim, who solaced my pilgrim way with spiritual
- conversation and whom you wanted to see, to come here with me.
- The Starets. It will be very nice both for me and, I hope, also for these revered
- visitors of mine, to see you both and to have the advantage of hearing your
- experiences. I have with me here a venerable skhimnik, and here a devout priest.
- And so, where two or three are gathered together in the name of Jesus Christ, there
- He promises to be Himself. And now, here are five of us in His name, and so no
- doubt He will vouchsafe to bless us all the more bountifully. The story which your
- fellow-pilgrim told me yesterday, dear brother, about your burning attachment to the
- holy gospel, is most notable and instructive. It would be interesting to know in what
- way this great and blessed secret was revealed to you.
- The Professor. The all-loving God, who desires that all men should be saved and
- come to the knowledge of the truth, revealed it to me of His great loving-kindness in a
- marvelous way, without any human intervention. For five years I was a professor and
- I led a gloomy dissipated sort of life, captivated by the vain philosophy of the world,
- and not according to Christ. Perhaps I should have perished altogether had I not
- been upheld to some extent by the fact that I lived with my very devout mother
- 111
- and my sister, who was a serious-minded young woman. One day, when I was taking
- a walk along the public boulevard, I met and made the acquaintance of an excellent
- young man who told me he was a Frenchman, a student who had not long ago
- arrived from Paris and was looking for a post as tutor. His high degree of culture
- delighted me very much, and he being a stranger in this country I asked him to my
- home and we became friends. In the course of two months he frequently came to see
- me. Sometimes we went for walks together and amused ourselves and went together
- into company which I leave you to suppose was very immoral. At length he came to
- me one day with an invitation to a place of that sort; and in order to persuade me
- more quickly he began to praise the particular liveliness and pleasantness of the
- company to which he was inviting me. After he had been speaking about it for a short
- while, suddenly he began to ask me to come with him out of my study where we were
- sitting and to sit in the drawing room. This seemed to me very odd. So I said that I
- had never before noticed any reluctance on his part to be in my study, and what, I
- asked, was the cause of it now? And I added that the drawing room was next door to
- the room where my mother and sister were, and for us to carry on this sort of
- conversation there would be unseemly. He pressed his point on various pretexts, and
- finally came out quite openly with this: "Among those books on your shelves there
- you have a copy of the Gospels. I have such a reverence for that book that in its
- presence I find a difficulty in talking about our disreputable affairs. Please take it
- away from here; then we can talk freely." In my frivolous way I smiled at his words.
- Taking the Gospels from the shelf I said, "You ought to have told me that long ago,"
- and handed it to him, saying, "Well, take it yourself and put it down somewhere in the
- room." No sooner had I touched him with the Gospels than at that instant he trembled
- and disappeared. This dumbfounded me to such an extent that I fell senseless to the
- floor with fright. Hearing the noise, my household came running in to me, and for a
- full half hour they were unable to bring me to my senses. In the end, when I came to
- myself again, I was frightened and shaky and I felt thoroughly upset, and my hands
- and my feet were absolutely numb so that I could not move them. When the doctor
- was called in he diagnosed paralyis as the result of some great shock or fright. I was
- laid up for a whole year after this, and with the most careful medical attention from
- many doctors I did not get the smallest alleviation, so that as a result of my illness it
- 112
- looked as though I should have to resign my position. My mother, who was growing
- old, died during this period, and my sister was preparing to take the veil, and all this
- increased my illness all the more. I had but one consolation during this time of
- sickness, and that was reading the gospel, which from the beginning of my illness
- never left my hands. It was a sort of pledge of the marvelous thing that had
- happened to me. One day an unknown recluse came to see me. He was making a
- collection for his monastery. He spoke to me very persuasively and told me that I
- should not rely only upon medicines, which without the help of God were unable to
- bring me relief, and that I should pray to God and pray diligently about this very thing,
- for prayer is the most powerful means of healing all sicknesses both bodily and
- spiritual.
- "How can I pray in such a position as this, when I have not the strength to make
- any sort of reverence, nor can I lift my hands to cross myself?" I answered in my
- bewilderment. To this he said, "Well, at any rate, pray somehow." But farther he did
- not go, nor actually explain to me how to pray. When my visitor left me I seemed
- almost involuntarily to start thinking about prayer and about its power and its effects,
- calling to mind the instruction I had had in religious knowledge long ago when I was
- still a student. This occupied me very happily and renewed in my mind my knowledge
- of religious matters, and it warmed my heart. At the same time I began to feel a
- certain relief in my attack of illness. Since the book of the Gospels was continually
- with me, such was my faith in it as the result of the miracle; and as I remembered
- also that the whole discourse upon prayer which I had heard in lectures was based
- upon the gospel text, I considered that the best thing would be to make a study of
- prayer and Christian devotion solely upon the teaching of the gospel. Working out its
- meaning, I drew upon it as from an abundant spring, and found a complete system of
- the life of salvation and of true interior prayer. I reverently marked all the passages on
- this subject, and from that time I have been trying zealously to learn this divine
- teaching, and with all my might, though not without difficulty, to put it into practice.
- While I was occupied in this way, my health gradually improved, and in the end, as
- you see, I recovered completely. As I was still living alone I decided in thankfulness
- to God for His fatherly kindness, which had given me recovery of health and
- enlightenment of mind, to follow the example of my sister and the prompting of my
- 113
- own heart, and to dedicate myself to the solitary life, so that unhindered I might
- receive and make my own those sweet words of eternal life given me in the Word of
- God. So here I am at the present time, stealing off to the solitary skeet in the
- Solovetsky monastery in the White Sea, which is called Anzersky, about which I have
- heard on good authority that it is a most suitable place for the contemplative life.
- Further, I will tell you this. The holy gospel gives me much consolation in this journey
- of mine, and sheds abundant light upon my untutored mind, and warms my chilly
- heart. Yet the fact is that in spite of all I frankly acknowledge my weakness, and I
- freely admit that the conditions of fulfilling the work of devotion and attaining
- salvation, the requirement of thoroughgoing self-denial, of extraordinary spiritual
- achievements, and of most profound humility which the gospel enjoins, frighten me
- by their very magnitude and in view of the weak and damaged state of my heart. So
- that I stand now between despair and hope. I don't know what will happen to me in
- the future.
- The Skhimnik. With such an evident token of a special and miraculous mercy of
- God, and in view of your education, it would be unpardonable not only to give way to
- depression, but even to admit into your soul a shadow of doubt about God's
- protection and help. Do you know what the God-enlightened Chrysostom says about
- this? "No one should be depressed," he teaches, "and give the false impression that
- the precepts of the gospel are impossible or impracticable. God who has predestined
- the salvation of man has, of course, not laid commandments upon him with the
- intention of making him an offender because of their impracticability. No, but so that
- by their holiness and the necessity of them for a virtuous life they may be a blessing
- to us, as in this life so in eternity." Of course the regular unswerving fulfillment of
- God's commandments is extraordinarily difficult for our fallen nature and, therefore,
- salvation is not easily attained, but that same Word of God which lays down the
- commandments offers also the means not only for their ready fulfillment, but also
- comfort in the fulfilling of them. If this is hidden at first sight behind a veil of mystery,
- then that, of course, is in order to make us betake ourselves the more to humility, and
- to bring us more easily into union with God by indicating direct recourse to Him in
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- prayer and petition for His fatherly help. It is there that the secret of salvation lies, and
- not in reliance upon one's own efforts.
- The Pilgrim. How I should like, weak and feeble as I am, to get to know that
- secret, so that I might to some extent, at least, put my slothful life right, for the glory
- of God and my own salvation.
- The Skhimnik. The secret is known to you, dear brother, from your book The
- Philokalia. It lies in that unceasing prayer of which you have made so resolute a
- study and in which you have so zealously occupied yourself and found comfort.
- The Pilgrim. I fall at your feet, reverend Father. For the love of God let me hear
- something for my good from your lips about this saving mystery and about holy
- prayer, which I long to hear about more than anything else, and about which I love
- reading to get strength and comfort for my very sinful soul.
- The Skhimnik. I cannot satisfy your wish with my own thoughts on this exalted
- subject, because I have had but very little experience of it myself. But I have some
- very clearly written notes by a spiritual writer precisely on this subject. If the rest of
- those who are talking with us would like it, I will get it at once and with your
- permission I can read it to you all. All. Do be so kind, reverend Father. Do not keep
- such saving knowledge from us.
- The Skhimnik.The Secret of Salvation, Revealed by Unceasing Prayer. How is one
- saved? This godly question naturally arises in the mind of every Christian who
- realizes the injured and enfeebled nature of man, and what is left of its original urge
- toward truth and righteousness. Everyone who has even some degree of faith in
- immortality and recompense in the life to come is involuntarily faced by the thought,
- "How am I to be saved?" when he turns his eyes toward heaven. When he tries to
- find a.solution to this problem, he inquires of the wise and learned. Then under their
- guidance he reads edifying books by spiritual writers on this subject, and sets himself
- unswervingly to follow out the truths and the rules he has heard and read. In all these
- instructions he finds constantly put before him as necessary conditions of salvation a
- devout life and heroic struggles with himself which are to issue in decisive denial of
- self. This is to lead him on to the performance of good works, to the constant
- fulfillment of God's laws, and thus witness to the unshakableness and firmness of his
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- faith. Further, they preach to him that all these conditions of salvation must
- necessarily be fulfilled with the deepest humility and in combination with one another.
- For as all good works depend one upon another, so they should support one another,
- complete and encourage one another, just as the rays of the sun only reveal their
- strength and kindle a flame when they are focused through a glass on to one point.
- Otherwise, "He that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much."
- In addition to this, to implant in him the strongest conviction of the necessity of this
- complex and unified virtue, he hears the highest praise bestowed upon the beauty of
- virtue, he listens to censure of the baseness and misery of vice. All this is imprinted
- upon his mind by truthful promises either of majestic rewards and happiness or of
- tormenting punishment and misery in the life to come. Such is the special character
- of preaching in modern times. Guided in this way, one who ardently wishes for
- salvation sets off in all joy to carry out what he has learned and to apply to
- experience all he has heard and read. But alas! even at the first step he finds it
- impossible to achieve his purpose. He foresees and even finds out by trial that his
- damaged and enfeebled nature will have the upper hand of the convictions of his
- mind, that his free will is bound, that his propensities are perverted, that his spiritual
- strength is but weakness. He naturally goes on to the thought: Is there not to be
- found some kind of means which will enable him to fulfill that which the law of God
- requires of him, which Christian devotion demands, and which all those who have
- found salvation and holiness have carried out? As the result of this and in order to
- reconcile in himself the demands of reason and conscience with the inadequacy of
- his strength to fulfill them, he applies once more to the preachers of salvation with the
- question: How am I to be saved? How is this inability to carry out the conditions of
- salvation to be justified; and are those who have preached all this that he has learned
- themselves strong enough to carry it out unswervingly?
- Ask God. Pray to God. Pray for His help.
- "So would it not have been more fruitful," the inquirer concludes, "if I had, to begin
- with and always in every circumstance, made a study of prayer as the power to fulfill
- all that Christian devotion demands and by which salvation is attained?" And so he
- goes on to the study of prayer: he reads, he meditates, he studies the teaching of
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- those who have written on that subject. Truly he finds in them many luminous
- thoughts, much deep knowledge, and words of great power. One reasons beautifully
- about the necessity of prayer; another writes of its power, its beneficial effect—of
- prayer as a duty, or of the fact that it calls for zeal, attention, warmth of heart, purity
- of mind, reconciliation with one's enemies, humility, contrition, and the rest of the
- necessary conditions of prayer. But what is prayer in itself? How does one actually
- pray? A precise answer which can be understood by everybody to these questions,
- primary and most urgent as they are, is very rarely to be found, and so the ardent
- inquirer about prayer is again left before a veil of mystery. As a result of his general
- reading there is rooted in his memory an aspect of prayer which, although devout, is
- only external, and he arrives at the conclusion that prayer is going to church, crossing
- oneself, bowing, kneeling, and reading psalms, kanons, and acathists.29 Generally
- speaking, this is the view of prayer taken by those who do not know the writings of
- the holy Fathers about inward prayer and contemplative action. At length, the seeker
- comes across the book called Philokalia, in which twenty-five holy Fathers set forth in
- an understandable way the scientific knowledge of the truth and of the essence of
- prayer of the heart. This begins to draw aside the veil from before the secret of
- salvation and of prayer. He sees that truly to pray means to direct the thought and the
- memory, without relaxing, to the recollection of God, to walk in His divine presence,
- to awaken oneself to His love by thinking about Him, and to link the name of God with
- one's breathing and the beating of one's heart. He is guided in all this by the
- invocation with the lips of the most holy name of Jesus Christ, or by saying the Jesus
- prayer at all times and in all places and during every occupation, unceasingly. These
- luminous truths, by enlightening the mind of the seeker and by opening up before him
- the way to the study and achievement of prayer, help him to go on at once to put
- these wise teachings into practice. Nevertheless, when he makes his attempts he is
- still not free from difficulty until an experienced teacher shows him (from the same
- book) the whole truth—that is to say, that it is prayer which is incessant which is the
- only effective means for perfecting interior prayer and for the saving of the soul. It is
- frequency of prayer that is the basis, that holds together the whole system of saving
- activity. As Simeon the new theologian says, "He who prays without ceasing unites
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- all good in this one thing." So in order to set forth the truth of this revelation in all its
- fullness, the teacher develops it in the following way:
- For the salvation of the soul, first of all true faith is necessary. Holy Scripture says,
- "Without faith it is impossible to please God" (Heb. 6:6). He who has not faith will be
- judged. But from the same holy Scriptures one can see that man cannot himself bring
- to birth in him faith even as a grain of mustard seed; that faith does not come from
- us, since it is the gift of God; that faith is a spiritual gift. It is given by the Holy Spirit.
- That being so, what is to be done? How is one to reconcile man's need of faith with
- the impossibility of producing it from the human side? The way to do this is revealed
- in the same holy Scriptures: "Ask, and it shall be given you." The Apostles could not
- of themselves arouse the perfection of faith within them, but they prayed to Jesus
- Christ, "Lord, increase our faith." There you have an example of obtaining faith. It
- shows that faith is attained by prayer. For the salvation of the soul, besides true faith,
- good works are also required, for "Faith, if it hath not works, is dead." For man is
- judged by his works and not by faith alone. "If thou wilt enter into life, keep the
- commandments: Do not kill; do not commit adultery; do not steal; do not bear false
- witness; honor thy father and mother; love thy neighbor as thyself." And all these
- commandments are required to be kept together. "For whosoever shall keep the
- whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all" Games 2:10). So the
- Apostle James teaches. And the Apostle Paul, describing human weakness, says:
- "By the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified" (Rom. 3:20). "For we know
- that the law is spiritual; but I am carnal, sold under sin... . For to will is present with
- me, but how to perform that which is good I find not.... But the evil which I would not,
- that I do. . . . With the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of
- sin" (Rom. 7). How are the required works of the law of God to be fulfilled when man
- is without strength and has no power to keep the commandments? He has no
- possibility of doing this until he asks for it, until he prays about it. "Ye have not
- because ye ask not" (James 4:2) the Apostle says is the cause. And Jesus Christ
- Himself says: "Without Me ye can do nothing." And on the subject of doing it with
- Him, He gives this teaching: "Abide in Me and I in you. He that abideth in Me and I in
- him, the same bringeth forth much fruit." But to be in Him means continually to feel
- His presence, continually to pray in His name. "If ye shall ask Me anything in My
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- name, that will I do." Thus the possibility of doing good works is reached by prayer
- itself. An example of this is seen in the Apostle Paul himself: Three times he prayed
- for victory over temptation, bowing the knee before God the Father, that He would
- give him strength in the inner man, and was at last bidden above all things to pray,
- and to pray continually about everything.
- From what has been said above, it follows that the whole salvation of man
- depends upon prayer and, therefore, it is primary and necessary, for by it faith is
- quickened and through it all good works are performed. In a word, with prayer
- everything goes forward successfully; without it, no act of Christian piety can be
- done. Thus, the condition that it should be offered unceasingly and always belongs
- exclusively to prayer. For the other Christian virtues, each of them has its own time.
- But in the case of prayer, uninterrupted, continuous action is commanded. Pray
- without ceasing. It is right and fitting to pray always, to pray everywhere. True prayer
- has its conditions. It should be offered with a pure mind and heart, with burning zeal,
- with close attention, with fear and reverence, and with the deepest humility. But what
- conscientious person would not admit that he is far from fulfilling those conditions,
- that he offers his prayer more from necessity, more by constraint upon himself than
- by inclination, enjoyment, and love of it? About this, too, holy Scripture says that it is
- not in the power of man to keep his mind steadfast, to cleanse it from unseemly
- thoughts, for the "thoughts of man are evil from his youth," and that God alone gives
- us another heart and a new spirit, for "both to will and to do are of God." The Apostle
- Paul himself says: "My spirit [that is, my voice] prayeth, but my understanding is
- unfruitful" (1 Cor. 14:14). "We know not what we should pray for as we ought" (Rom.
- 8:26), the same writer asserts. From this it follows that we in ourselves are unable to
- offer true prayer. We cannot in our prayers display its essential properties.
- Such being the powerlessness of every human being, what remains possible for
- the salvation of the soul from the side of human will and strength? Man cannot
- acquire faith without prayer; the same applies to good works. And finally, even to
- pray purely is not within his power. What, then, is left for him to do? What scope
- remains for the exercise of his freedom and his strength, so that he may not perish
- but be saved?
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- Every action has its quality, and this quality God has reserved to His own will and
- gift. In order that the dependence of man upon God, the will of God, may be shown
- the more clearly, and that he may be plunged more deeply into humility, God has
- assigned to the will and strength of man only the quantity of prayer. He has
- commanded unceasing prayer, always to pray, at all times and in every place. By this
- the secret method of achieving true prayer, and at the same time faith, and the
- fulfillment of God's commandments, and salvation, are revealed. Thus, it is quantity
- which is assigned to man, as his share; frequency of prayer is his own, and within the
- «province of his will. This is exactly what the Fathers of the church teach. St.
- Macarius the Great says truly to pray is the gift of grace. Isikhi says that frequency
- of prayer becomes a habit and turns into second nature, and without frequent calling
- upon the name of Jesus Christ it is impossible to cleanse the heart. The venerable
- Callistus and Ignatius counsel frequent, continuous prayer in the name of Jesus
- Christ before all ascetic exercises and good works, because frequency brings even
- the imperfect prayer to perfection. Blessed Diadokh asserts that if a man calls upon
- the name of God as often as possible, then he will not fall into sin. What experience
- and wisdom there are here, and how near to the heart these practical instructions of
- the Fathers are. In their experience and simplicity they throw much light upon the
- means of bringing the soul to perfection. What a sharp contrast with the moral
- instructions of the theoretical reason! Reason argues thus: Do such and such good
- actions, arm yourself with courage, use the strength of your will, persuade yourself by
- considering the happy results of virtue— for example, cleanse the mind and the heart
- from worldly dreams, fill their place with instructive meditations; do good and you will
- be respected and be at peace; live in the way that your reason and conscience
- require. But alas! with all its strength, all that does not attain its purpose without
- frequent prayer, without summoning the help of God.
- Now let us go on to some further teaching of the Fathers, and we shall see what
- they say, for example, about purifying the soul. St. John of the ladder writes: "When
- the spirit is darkened by unclean thoughts, put the enemy to flight by the name of
- Jesus repeated frequently. A more powerful and effective weapon than this you will
- not find, in heaven or on earth." St. Gregory the Sinaite teaches thus: "Know this, that
- no one can control his mind by himself, and, therefore, at a time of unclean thoughts
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- call upon the name of Jesus Christ often and at frequent intervals, and the thoughts
- will quieten down." How simple and easy a method! Yet it is tested by experience.
- What a contrast with the counsel of the theoretical reason, which presumptuously
- strives to attain purity by its own efforts.
- Noting these instructions based upon the experience of the holy Fathers we pass
- on to the real conclusion: that the principal, the only, and a very easy method of
- reaching the goal of salvation and spiritual perfection is the frequency and the
- uninterruptedness of prayer, however feeble it may be. Christian soul, if you do not
- find within yourself the power to worship God in spirit and in truth, if your heart still
- feels no warmth and sweet satisfaction in mental and interior prayer, then bring to the
- sacrifice of prayer what you can, what lies within the scope of your will, what is within
- your power. Let the humble instrument of your lips first of all grow familiar with
- frequent persistent prayerful invocation. Let them call upon the mighty name of Jesus
- Christ often and without interruption. This is not a great labor and is within the power
- of everyone. This, too, is what the precept of the holy Apostle enjoins: "By Him,
- therefore, let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our
- lips, giving thanks to His name" (Heb. 8:15).
- Frequency of prayer certainly forms a habit and becomes second nature. It brings
- the mind and the heart into a proper state from time to time. Suppose a man
- continually fulfills this one commandment of God about ceaseless prayer, then in that
- one thing he would have fulfilled all; for if he uninterruptedly, at all times, and in all
- circumstances, offers the prayer, calling in secret upon the most holy name of Jesus
- (although at first he may do so without spiritual ardor and zeal and even forcing
- himself), then he will have no time for vain conversation, for judging his neighbors, for
- useless waste of time in sinful pleasures of the senses. Every evil thought of his
- would meet opposition to its growth. Every sinful act he contemplated would not
- come to fruition so readily as with an empty mind. Much talking and vain talking
- would be checked or entirely done away with, and every fault at once cleansed from
- the soul by the gracious power of so frequently calling upon the divine name. The
- frequent exercise of prayer would often recall the soul from sinful action and summon
- it to what is the essential exercise of its skill, to union with God. Now do you see how
- important and necessary quantity is in prayer? Frequency in prayer is the one
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- method of attaining pure and true prayer. It is the very best and most effective
- preparation for prayer, and the surest way of reaching the goal of prayer, and
- salvation.
- To convince yourself finally about the necessity and fruitfulness of frequent
- prayer, note (1) that every impulse and every thought of prayer is the work of the
- Holy Spirit and the voice of your guardian angel; (2) that the name of Jesus Christ
- invoked in prayer contains in itself self-existent and self-acting salutary power, and,
- therefore, (3) do not be disturbed by the imperfection or dryness of your prayer, and
- await with patience the fruit of frequently calling upon the divine name. Do not listen
- to the inexperienced, thoughtless insinuation of the vain world that lukewarm
- invocation, even if it be importunate, is useless repetition. No; the power of the divine
- name and the frequent calling upon it will reveal its fruit in its season. A certain
- spiritual writer has spoken very beautifully about this. "I know," he says, "that to many
- so-called spiritual and wise philosophers, who search everywhere for sham
- greatness and practices that are noble in the eyes of reason and pride, the simple,
- vocal, but frequent exercise of prayer appears of little significance, as a lowly
- occupation, even a mere trifle. But, unhappy ones, they deceive themselves, and
- they forget the teaching of Jesus Christ: 'Except ye be converted and become as little
- children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven' (Matt. 18:3). They work out
- for themselves a sort of science of prayer, on the unstable foundations of the natural
- reason. Do we require much learning or thought or knowledge to say with a pure
- heart, 'Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me'? Does not our divine teacher Himself
- praise such frequent prayer? Have not wonderful answers been received and
- wonderful works done by this same brief but frequent prayer? Ah, Christian soul,
- pluck up your courage and do not silence the unbroken invocations of your prayer,
- although it may be that this cry of yours comes from a heart which is still at war with
- itself and half filled by the world. Never mind! Only go on with it and don't let it be
- silenced and don't be disturbed. It will itself purify itself by repetition. Never let your
- memory lose hold of this: 'Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world' (1
- John 4:4). 'God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things,' says the Apostle."
- »> And so, after all these convincing arguments that frequent prayer, so powerful in
- all human weakness, is certainly attainable by man and lies fully within his own will,
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- make up your mind to try, even if only for a single day at first. Maintain a watch over
- yourself and make the frequency of your prayer such that far more time is occupied in
- the twenty-four hours with the prayerful calling upon the name of Jesus Christ than
- with other matters. And this triumph of prayer over worldly affairs will in time certainly
- show you that this day has not been lost, but has been secured for salvation; that in
- the scales of the divine judgment frequent prayer outweighs your weaknesses and
- evil- doing and blots out the sins of that day in the memorial book of conscience; that
- it sets your feet upon the ladder of righteousness and gives you hope of sanctification
- in the life to come.30
- The Pilgrim. With all my heart I thank you, holy Father. With that reading of yours
- you have given pleasure to my sinful soul. For the love of God, be so kind as to allow
- me to copy out for myself what you have read. I can do it in an hour or two.
- Everything you read was so beautiful and comforting and is so understandable and
- clear to my stupid mind, like The Philokalia, in which the holy Fathers treat the same
- subject. Here, for instance, John Karpathisky in the fourth part of The Philokalia also
- says that if you have not the strength for self-control and ascetic achievements, then
- know that God is willing to save you by prayer. But how beautifully and
- understandably all that is drawn out in your notebook. I thank God first of all, and
- then you, that I have been allowed to hear it.
- The Professor. I also listened with great attention and pleasure to your reading,
- reverend Father. All-arguments, when they rest upon strict logic, are a delight to me.
- But at the same time it seems to me that they make the possibility of continual prayer
- in a high degree dependent on circumstances which are favorable to it and upon
- entirely quiet solitude. For I agree that frequent and ceaseless prayer is a powerful
- and unique means of obtaining the help of divine grace in all acts of devotion for the
- sanctifying of the soul, and that it is within the power of man. But this method can be
- used only when man avails himself of the possibility of solitude and quiet. In getting
- away from business and worries and distractions he can pray frequently or even
- continually. He then has to contend only with sloth or with the tedium of his own
- thoughts. But if he is bound by duties and by constant business, if he necessarily
- finds himself in a noisy company of people, and has an earnest desire to pray often,
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- he cannot carry out this desire because of the inevitable distractions. Consequently
- the one method of frequent prayer, since it is dependent upon favorable
- circumstances, cannot be used by everybody, nor belong to all.
- The Skhimnik. It is no use drawing a conclusion of that kind. Not to mention the
- fact that the heart which has been taught interior prayer can always pray and call
- upon the name of God unhindered during any occupation, whether of the body or of
- the mind, and in any noise (those who know this know it from experience, and those
- who do not know it must be taught by gradual training), one can confidently say that
- no outward distraction can interrupt prayer in one who wishes to pray, for the secret
- thought of man does not depend upon any link with external environment and is
- entirely free in itself. It can at all times be perceived and directed toward prayer; even
- the very tongue can secretly without outward sound express prayer in the presence
- of many people and during external occupations. Besides, our business is surely not
- so important and our conversation so interesting that it is impossible during them to
- find a way at times of frequently calling upon the name of Jesus Christ, even if the
- mind has not yet been trained to continuous prayer. Although, of course, solitude and
- escape from distracting things does constitute the chief condition for attentive and
- continuous prayer, still we ought to feel ourselves to blame for the rarity of our prayer,
- because the amount and frequency is under the control of everybody, both the
- healthy and the sick. It does lie within the scope of his will. Instances which prove this
- are to be found in those who, although burdened by obligations, distracting duties,
- cares, worries, and work, have not only always called upon the divine name of Jesus
- Christ, but even in this way learned and attained the ceaseless inward prayer of the
- heart. Thus the patriarch Photius, who was called to the patriarchal dignity from
- among the ranks of the senators, while governing the vast diocese of Constantinople,
- persevered continually in the invocation of the name of God, and thus attained even
- the self-acting prayer of the heart. Thus Callistus on the holy Mount Athos learned
- ceaseless prayer while carrying on his busy life as a cook. So the simple-hearted
- Lazarus, burdened with continual work for the brotherhood, uninterruptedly, in the
- midst of all his noisy occupations, repeated the Jesus prayer and was at peace. And
- many others similarly have practiced the continuous invocation of the name of God.
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- If it were an impossible thing to pray midst distracting business or in the society of
- other people, then, of course, it would not have been bidden us. St. John
- Chrysostom, in his teaching about prayer, speaks as follows: "No one should give the
- answer that it is impossible for a man occupied with worldly cares, and who is unable
- to go to church, to pray always. Everywhere, wherever you may find yourself, you
- can set up an altar to God in your mind by means of prayer. And so it is fitting to pray
- at your trade, on a journey, standing at the counter, or sitting at your handicraft.
- Everywhere and in every place it is possible to pray, and, indeed, if a man diligently
- turns his attention upon himself, then everywhere he will find convenient
- circumstances for prayer, if only he is convinced of the fact that prayer should
- constitute his chief occupation and come before every other duty. And in that case he
- would, of course, order his affairs with greater decision; in necessary conversation
- with other people he would maintain brevity, a tendency to silence, and a
- disinclination for useless words; he would not be unduly anxious about worrying
- things. And in all these ways he would find more time for quiet prayer. In such an
- order of life all his actions, by the power of the invocation of the name of God, would
- be signalized by success, and finally he would train himself to the uninterrupted
- prayerful invocation of the name of Jesus Christ. He would come to know from
- experience that frequency of prayer, this sole means of salvation, is a possibility for
- the will of man, that it is possible to pray at all times, in all circumstances, and in
- every place, and easily to rise from frequent vocal prayer to prayer of the mind and
- from that to prayer of the heart, which opens up the kingdom of God within us.
- The Professor. I agree that during mechanical occupations it is possible and even
- easy to pray frequently, even continuously; for mechanical bodily work does not
- require profound exercise of the mind or great consideration, and, therefore, while it
- is going on my mind can be immersed in continuous prayer and my lips follow in the
- same way. But if I have to be occupied with something exclusively intellectual, as, for
- instance, attentive reading, or thinking out some deep matter, or literary composition,
- how can I pray with my mind and my lips in such a case? And since prayer is above
- all things an action of the mind, how, at one and the same time, can I give one and
- the same mind different sorts of things to do?
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- The Skhimnik. The solution of your problem is not at all difficult, if we take into
- consideration that people who pray continuously are divided into three classes. First,
- the beginners; secondly, those who have made some progress; and thirdly, the fully
- trained. Now, the beginners are frequently capable of experiencing at times an
- impulse of the mind and heart toward God and of repeating short prayers with the
- lips, even while engaged in mental work. Those who have made some progress and
- reached a certain stability of mind are able to occupy themselves with meditation or
- writing in the uninterrupted presence of God as the basis of prayer. The following
- example will illustrate this. Imagine that a severe and exacting monarch ordered you
- to compose a treatise on some abstruse subject in his presence, at the steps of his
- throne. Although you might be absolutely occupied by your work, the presence of the
- king who has power over you and who holds your life in his hands would still not
- allow you to forget for a single moment that you are thinking, considering, and writing,
- not in solitude, but in a place which demands of you particular reverence, respect,
- and decorum. This lively feeling of the nearness of the king very clearly expresses
- the possibility of being occupied in ceaseless inward prayer even during intellectual
- work. So far as the others are concerned, those who by long custom or by the mercy
- of God have progressed from prayer of the mind and reached prayer of the heart,
- they do not break off their continuous prayer during profound mental exercises, nor
- even during sleep itself. As the All Wise has told us, "I sleep, but my heart waketh"
- (Cant. 5:2). Many, that is, who have achieved this mechanism of the heart acquire
- such an aptitude for calling upon the divine name that it will of itself arouse itself to
- prayer, incline the mind and the whole spirit to a flood of ceaseless prayer in
- whatever condition the one who prays finds himself, and however abstract and
- intellectual his occupation at the time.
- The Priest. Allow me, reverend Father, to say what is in my mind. Let me have a
- turn and say a word or two. It was admirably put in the article you read that the one
- means of salvation and of reaching perfection is frequency of prayer, of whatever
- sort. Now, I do not very easily understand that, and it appears to me like this. What
- would be the use if I pray and invoke the name of God continually with my tongue
- only and pay no attention to, and do not understand, what I am saying? That would
- be nothing but vain repetition. The result of it will only be that the tongue will go
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- chattering on, and the mind, hindered in its meditations by this, will have its activity
- impaired. God does not ask for words, but for an attentive mind and a pure heart.
- Would it not be better to offer a prayer, be it only a short one, even rarely may be, or
- only at stated times, but with attention, with zeal and warmth of heart, and with due
- understanding? Otherwise, although you may say the prayer day and night, yet you
- have not got purity of mind, you are not performing a work of devotion, not achieving
- anything for your salvation. You are relying upon nothing but outward chatter, and
- you get tired and bored, and in the end the result is that your faith in prayer is
- completely chilled and you throw over altogether this fruitless proceeding. Further,
- the uselessness of prayer with the lips only can be seen from what is revealed to us
- in holy Scripture, as, for instance, "This people draweth nigh unto Me with their
- mouth and honoreth Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me" (Matt. 15:8).
- "Not everyone that saith unto Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven"
- (Matt. 7:21). "I had rather speak five words with my understanding . . . than ten
- thousand words in an unknown tongue" (1 Cor. 14:19). All this shows the
- fruitlessness of outward inattentive prayer with the mouth.
- The Skhimnik. There might be something in your point of view if with the advice to
- pray with the mouth there were not added the need for it to be continuous, if prayer in
- the name of Jesus Christ did not possess self- acting power and did not win for itself
- attention and zeal as a result of continuity in the exercise. But as the matter now in
- question is frequency, length of time, and uninter- ruptedness of prayer (although it
- may be carried on at first inattentively or with dryness), then, on account of this very
- fact, the conclusions that you mistakenly draw come to nothing. Let us look into the
- matter a little more closely. One spiritual writer, after arguing the very great value and
- fruitfulness of frequent prayer expressed in one form of words, says finally, "Many so-
- called enlightened people regard this frequent offering of one and the same prayer as
- useless and even trifling, calling it mechanical and a thoughtless occupation of simple
- people. But unfortunately they do not know the secret which is revealed as a result of
- this mechanical exercise; they do not know how this frequent service of the lips
- imperceptibly becomes a genuine appeal of the heart, sinks down into the inward life,
- becomes a delight, becomes, as it were, natural to the soul, bringing it light and
- nourishment and leading it on to union with God." It seems to me that these
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- censorious people are like those little children who were being taught the alphabet
- and how to read. When they got tired of it they cried out, "Would it not be a hundred
- times better to go fishing, like father, than to spend the whole day in ceaselessly
- repeating a, b, c, or scrawling on a sheet of paper with a pen?" The value of being
- able to read and the enlightenment which it brings, which they could have only as a
- result of this wearisome learning the letters by heart, was a hidden secret to them. In
- the same way the simple and frequent calling upon the name of God is a hidden
- secret to those people who are not persuaded of its results and its very great value.
- They, estimating the act of faith by the strength of their own inexperienced and
- shortsighted reason, forget, in so doing, that man has two natures, in direct influence
- one upon another, that man is made of body and soul. Why, for example, when you
- desire to purify your soul, do you first of all deal with your body, make it fast, deprive
- it of nourishment and stimulating food? It is, of course, in order that it may not hinder,
- or, to put it better, so that it may be the means of promoting purity of soul and
- enlightenment of mind, so that the continual feeling of bodily hunger may remind you
- of your resolution to seek for inward perfection and the things pleasing to God, which
- you so easily forget. And you find by experience that through the outward fast of your
- body you achieve the inward refining of your mind, the peace of your heart, an
- instrument for the taming of your passions, and a reminder of spiritual effort. And
- thus, by means of outward and material things, you receive inward and spiritual profit
- and help. You must understand the same thing about frequent prayer with the lips,
- which by its long duration draws out the inward prayer of the heart and promotes
- union of the mind with God. It is vain to imagine that the tongue, wearied by this
- frequency and barren lack of understanding, will be obliged to give up entirely this
- outward effort of prayer as useless. No; experience here shows us exactly the
- opposite. Those who have practiced ceaseless prayer assure us that what happens
- is this: One who has made up his mind to call without ceasing upon the name of
- Jesus Christ or, what is the same thing, to say the Jesus prayer continuously, at first,
- of course, finds difficulty and has to struggle against sloth. But the longer and the
- harder he works at it, the more he grows familiar with the task imperceptibly, so that
- in the end the lips and the tongue acquire such capacity for moving themselves that
- even without any effort on his part they themselves act irresistibly and say the prayer
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- voicelessly. At the same time the mechanism of the throat muscles is so trained that
- in praying he begins to feel that the saying of the prayer is a perpetual and essential
- property of himself, and even feels every time he stops as though something were
- missing in him. And so it results from this that his mind in its turn begins to yield, to
- listen to this- involuntary action of the lips, and is aroused by it to attention which in
- the end becomes a source of delight to the heart, and true prayer.
- There you see the true and beneficent effect of continuous or frequent vocal
- prayer, exactly the opposite of what people who have neither tried nor understood it
- suppose. Concerning those passages in holy Scripture which you brought forward in
- support of your objection, these are to be explained, if we make a proper examination
- of them. Hypocritical worship of God with the mouth, ostentation about it, or insincere
- praise in the cry, "Lord, Lord," Jesus Christ exposed for this reason, that the faith of
- the proud Pharisees was a matter of the mouth only, and in no degree did their
- conscience justify their faith, nor did they acknowledge it in their heart. It was to them
- that these things were said, and they do not refer to saying prayers, about which
- Jesus Christ gave direct, explicit, and definite instructions. "Men ought always to pray
- and not to faint." Similarly, when the Apostle Paul says he prefers five words spoken
- with the understanding to a multitude of words without thought or in an unknown
- tongue in the church, he is speaking about teaching in general, not about prayer in
- particular, on which subject he firmly says, "I will therefore that men pray everywhere"
- (1 Tim. 2:8), and his is the general precept, "Pray without ceasing" (1 Thess. 5:17).
- Do you now see how fruitful frequent prayer is, for all its simplicity, and what serious
- consideration the proper understanding of holy Scripture requires?
- The Pilgrim. Truly it is so, reverend Father. I have seen many who quite simply,
- without the light of any education whatever and not even knowing what attention is,
- offer the prayer of Jesus with their mouths unceasingly. I have known them reach a
- stage when their lips and tongue could not be restrained from saying the prayer. It
- brought them such happiness and enlightenment, and changed them from weak and
- negligent people into podvizhniki and champions of virtue.31
- The Skhimnik. Prayer brings a man to a new birth, as it were. Its power is so great
- that nothing, no degree of suffering will stand against it. If you like, by way of saying
- good-bye, brothers, I will read you a short but interesting article which I have with me.
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- All. We shall listen with the greatest pleasure.
- The Skhimnik.
- On the Power of Prayer
- Prayer is so powerful, so mighty, that "pray, and do what you like." Prayer will
- guide you to right and just action. In order to please God nothing more is needed
- than love. "Love, and do what you will," says the blessed Augustine,32 "for he who
- truly loves cannot wish to do anything which is not pleasing to the one he loves."
- Since prayer is the outpouring and the activity of love, then one can truly say of it
- similarly, "Nothing more is needed for salvation than continuous prayer." "Pray, and
- do what you will," and you will reach the goal of prayer. You will gain enlightenment
- by it.
- To draw out our understanding of this matter in more detail, let us take some
- examples:
- (1) ' 'Pray, and think what you will." Your thoughts will be purified by prayer. Prayer
- will give you enlightenment of mind; it will remove and drive away all ill-judged
- thoughts. This is asserted by St. Gregory the Sinaite. If you wish to drive away
- thoughts and purify the mind, his counsel is "drive them away by prayer." For nothing
- can control thoughts as prayer can. St. John of the ladder also says about this,
- "Overcome the foes in your mind by the name of Jesus. You will find no other
- weapon than this."
- (2) "Pray, and do what you will." Your acts will be pleasing to God and useful and
- salutary to yourself. Frequent prayer, whatever it may be about, does not remain
- fruitless, because in it is the power of grace, "for whosoever shall call on the name of
- the Lord shall be saved" (Acts 2:21). For example, a man who had prayed without
- success and without devotion was granted through this prayer clearness of
- understanding and a call to repentance. A pleasure-loving girl prayed on her return
- home, and the prayer showed her the way to the virgin life and obedience to the
- teaching of Jesus Christ.
- (3) "Pray, and do not labor much to conquer your passions by your own strength."
- Prayer will destroy them in you. "For greater is He that is in you than he that is in the
- world" (1 John 4:4), says holy Scripture. And St. John Karpathisky teaches that if you
- have not the gift of self-control, do not be cast down, but know that God requires of
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- you diligence in prayer and the prayer will save you. The starets about whom we are
- told in the Otechnik33 that, when he fell into sin, did not give way to depression, but
- betook himself to prayer and by it recovered his balance, is a case in point.
- (4) "Pray, and fear nothing." Fear no misfortunes, fear no disasters. Prayer will
- protect you and ward them off. Remember St. Peter, who had little faith and was
- sinking; St. Paul, who prayed in prison; the monk who was delivered by prayer from
- the onset of temptation; the girl who was saved from the evil purpose of a soldier as
- the result of prayer; and similar cases, which illustrate the power, the might, the
- universality of prayer in the name of Jesus Christ.
- (5) Pray somehow or other, only pray always and be disturbed by nothing. Be gay
- in spirit and peaceful. Prayer will arrange everything and teach you. Remember what
- the saints—John Chrysostom and Mark the podvizhnik—say about the power of
- prayer. The first declares that prayer, even though it be offered by us who are full of
- sin, yet cleanses us at once. The latter says, "To pray somehow is within our power,
- but to pray purely is the gift of grace." So offer to God what it is within your power to
- offer. Bring to Him at first just quantity (which is within your power), and God will pour
- upon you strength in your weakness. "Prayer, dry and distracted maybe, but
- continuous, will establish a habit and become second nature and turn itself into
- prayer that is pure, luminous, flaming, and worthy."
- (6) It is to be noted, finally, that if the time of your vigilance in prayer is prolonged,
- then naturally no time will be left not only for doing sinful actions but even for thinking
- of them.
- Now, do you see what profound thoughts are focused in that wise saying, "Love,
- and do what you will"; "Pray, and do what you will"? How comforting and consoling is
- all this for the sinner overwhelmed by his weaknesses, groaning under the burden of
- his warring passions.
- Prayer—there you have the whole of what is given to us as the universal means
- of salvation and of the growth of the soul into perfection. Just that. But when prayer is
- named, a condition is added. Pray without ceasing is the command of God's Word.
- Consequently, prayer shows its most effective power and fruit when it is offered
- often, ceaselessly; for frequency of prayer undoubtedly belongs to our will, just as
- purity, zeal, and perfection in prayer are the gifts of grace.
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- And so we will pray as often as we can; we will consecrate our whole life to
- prayer, even if it be subject to distractions to begin with. Frequent practice of it will
- teach us attentiveness. Quantity will certainly lead on to quality. "If you want to learn
- to do anything whatever well you must do it as often as possible," said an
- experienced spiritual writer.
- The Professor. Truly prayer is a great matter, and ardent frequency of it is the key
- to open the treasury of its grace. But how often I find a conflict in myself between
- ardor and sloth. How glad I should be to find the way to gain the victory and to
- convince myself and arouse myself to continuous application to prayer.
- The Skhimnik. Many spiritual writers offer a number of ways based upon sound
- reasoning for stimulating diligence in prayer. For example, (1) they advise you to
- steep your mind in thoughts of the necessity, the excellence, and the fruitfulness of
- prayer for saving the soul; (2) make yourself firmly convinced that God absolutely
- requires prayer of us and that His Word everywhere commands it; (3) always
- remember that if you are slothful and careless about prayer you can make no
- progress in acts of devotion nor in attaining peace and salvation and, therefore, will
- inevitably suffer both punishment on earth and torment in the life to come; and (4)
- enhearten your resolution by the example of the saints who all attained holiness and
- salvation by the way of continuous prayer.
- Although all these methods have their value and arise from genuine
- understanding, yet the pleasure-loving soul which is sick with listlessness, even when
- it has accepted and used them, rarely sees the fruit of them, for this reason: these
- medicines are bitter to its impaired sense of taste and too weak for its deeply injured
- nature. For what Christian is there who does not know that he ought to pray often
- and diligently, that God requires it of him, that we are punished for sloth in prayer,
- that all the saints have ardently and constantly prayed? Nevertheless, how rarely
- does all this knowledge show good results. Every observer of himself sees that he
- justifies but little, and but rarely, these promptings of reason and conscience, and
- through infrequent remembrance of them lives all the while in the same bad and
- slothful way. And so, in their experience and godly wisdom, the holy Fathers,
- knowing the weakness of will and the exaggerated love of pleasure in the heart of
- man, take a special line about it, and in this respect put jam with the powder and
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- smear the edge of the medicine cup with honey. They show the easiest and most
- effective means of doing away with sloth and indifference in prayer, in the hope, with
- God's help, of attaining by prayer perfection and the sweet expectation of love for
- God.
- They advise you to meditate as often as possible about the state of your soul and
- to read attentively what the Fathers have written on the subject. They give
- encouraging assurance that these enjoyable inward feelings may be readily and
- easily attained in prayer, and say how much they are to be desired. Heartfelt delight,
- a flood of inward warmth and light, ineffable enthusiasm, joy, lightness of heart,
- profound peace, and the very essence of blessedness and happy content are all
- results of prayer in the heart. By steeping itself in such reflections as these, the weak
- cold soul is kindled and strengthened, it is encouraged by ardor for prayer and is, as
- it were, enticed to put the practice of prayer to the test. As St. Isaac the Syrian says,
- "Joy is an enticement to the soul, joy which is the outcome of hope blossoming in the
- heart, and meditation upon its hope is the well-being of the heart."
- The same writer continues: "At the outset of this activity and right to the end there
- is presupposed some sort of method and hope for its completion, and this both
- arouses the mind to lay a foundation for the task and from the vision of its goal the
- mind borrows consolation during the labor of reaching it." In the same way St. Isikhi,
- after describing the hindrance that sloth is to prayer and clearing away
- misconceptions about the renewal of ardor for it, finally says outright, "If we are not
- ready to desire the silence of the heart for any other reason, then let it be for the
- delightful feeling of it in the soul and for the gladness that it brings." It follows from
- this that this Father gives the enjoyable feeling of gladness as an incitement to
- assiduity in prayer, and in the same way Macarius the Great teaches that our spiritual
- efforts (prayer) should be carried out with the purpose and in the hope of producing
- fruit—that is, enjoyment in our hearts. Clear instances of the potency of this method
- are to be seen in very many passages of The Philokalia, which contains detailed
- descriptions of the delights of prayer. One who is struggling with the infirmity of sloth
- or dryness in prayer ought to read them over as often as possible, considering
- himself, however, unworthy of these enjoyments and ever reproaching himself for
- negligence in prayer.
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- The Priest. Will not such meditation lead the inexperienced person to spiritual
- voluptuousness, as the theologians call that tendency of the soul which is greedy of
- excessive consolation and sweetness of grace, and is not content to fulfill the work of
- devotion from a sense of obligation and duty without dreaming about reward?
- The Professor. I think that the theologians in this case are warning men against
- excess or greed of spiritual happiness, and are not entirely rejecting enjoyment and
- consolation in virtue. For if the desire for reward is not perfection, nevertheless God
- has not forbidden man to think about rewards and consolation, and even Himself
- uses the idea of reward to incite men to fulfill His commandments and to attain
- perfection. "Honor thy father and thy mother." There is the command and you see the
- reward follows as a spur to its fulfillment, "and it shall be well with thee. If thou wilt be
- perfect, go, sell all that thou hast and come and follow Me." There is the demand for
- perfection, and immediately upon it comes the reward as an inducement to attain
- perfection, "and thou shalt have treasure in heaven. Blessed are ye when men shall
- hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach
- you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man's sake" (Luke 6:22). There is
- a great demand for a spiritual achievement which needs unusual strength of soul and
- unshakable patience. And so for that there is a great reward and consolation, which
- are able to arouse and maintain this unusual strength of soul—"For your reward is
- great in heaven." For this reason I think that a certain desire for enjoyment in prayer
- of the heart is necessary and probably constitutes the means of attaining both
- diligence and success in it. And so all this undoubtedly supports the practical
- teaching on this subject which we have just heard from the skhimnik.
- The Skhimnik. One of the great theologians—that is to say, St. Macarius of
- Egypt—speaks in the clearest possible way about this matter. He says, "As when you
- are planting a vine you bestow your thought and labor with the purpose of gathering
- the vintage, and if you do not, all your labor will be useless, so also in prayer, if you
- do not look for spiritual fruit—that is, love, peace, joy, and the rest—your labor will be
- useless. And, therefore, we ought to fulfill our spiritual duties (prayer) with the
- purpose and hope of gathering fruit—that is to say, comfort and enjoyment in our
- hearts." Do you see how clearly the holy Father answers this question about the
- need for enjoyment in prayer? And, as a matter of fact, there has just come into my
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- mind a point of view which I read not long ago of a writer on spiritual things, to this
- effect: that the naturalness of prayer to man is the chief cause of his inclination
- toward it. So the examination of this naturalness, in my opinion, may also serve as a
- potent means of arousing diligence in prayer, the means which the professor is so
- eagerly looking for.
- Let me now sum up shortly some points I drew attention to in that notebook. For
- instance, the writer says that reason and nature lead man to the knowledge of God.
- The first investigates the fact that there cannot be action without cause, and
- ascending the ladder of tangible things from the lower to the higher, at last reaches
- the First Cause, God. The second displays at every step its marvelous wisdom,
- harmony, order, gradation, gives the basic material for the ladder which leads from
- finite causes to the infinite. Thus, the natural man arrives naturally at the knowledge
- of God. And, therefore, there is not, and never has been, any people, any barbarous
- tribe, without some knowledge of God. As a result of this knowledge the most savage
- islander, without any impulse from outside, as it were involuntarily raises his gaze to
- heaven, falls on his knees, breathes out a sigh which he does not understand,
- necessary as it is, and has a direct feeling that there is something which draws him
- upward, something urging him toward the unknown. From this foundation all natural
- religions arise. And in this connection it is very remarkable that universally the
- essence or the soul of every religion consists in secret prayer, which shows itself in
- some form of movement of the spirit and what is clearly an oblation, though more or
- less distorted by the darkness of the coarse and wild understanding of heathen
- people. The more surprising this fact is in the eyes of reason, the greater is the
- demand upon us to discover the hidden cause of this wonderful thing which finds
- expression in a natural movement toward prayer. The psychological answer to this is
- not difficult to find. The root, the head, and the strength of all passions and actions in
- man is his innate love of self. The deep-rooted and universal idea of self-preservation
- clearly confirms this. Every human wish, every undertaking, every action has as its
- purpose the satisfaction of self-love, the seeking of the man's own happiness. The
- satisfaction of this demand accompanies the natural man all through his life. But the
- human spirit is not satisfied with anything that belongs to the senses, and the innate
- love of self never abates its urgency. And so desires develop more and more, the
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- endeavor to attain happiness grows stronger, fills the imagination, and incites the
- feelings to this same end. The flood of this inward feeling and desire as it develops is
- the natural arousing to prayer. It is a requirement of self-love which attains its
- purpose with difficulty. The less the natural man succeeds in attaining happiness and
- the more he has it in view, the more his longing grows and the more he finds an
- outlet for it in prayer. He betakes himself in petition for what he desires to the
- unknown cause of all being. So it is that innate self-love, the principal element in life,
- is a deep-seated stimulus to prayer in the natural man. The all-wise creator of all
- things has imbued the nature of man with a capacity for self-love precisely as an
- "enticement," to use the expression of the Fathers, which will draw the fallen being of
- man upward into touch with celestial things. Oh! if man had not spoiled this capacity,
- if only he had kept it in its excellence, in touch with his spiritual nature! Then he
- would have had a powerful incentive and an effective means of bringing him along
- the road to moral perfection. But, alas! how often he makes of this noble capacity a
- base passion of self-love when he turns it into an instrument of his animal nature.
- The Starets. I thank you from my heart, all my dear visitors. Your salutary
- conversation has been a great consolation to me and taught me, in my experience,
- many profitable things. May God give you His grace in return for your edifying love.
- [They all separate.]
- My devout friend the professor and I could not resist our desire to start on our
- journey, and before doing so to look in and say a last good-bye to you and ask for
- your prayers.
- The Professor. Yes, our intimacy with you has meant a great deal to us, and so
- have the salutary conversations on spiritual things which we have enjoyed at your
- house in company with your friends. We shall keep the memory of all this in our
- hearts as a pledge of fellowship and Christian love in that distant land to which we
- are hastening.
- The Starets. Thank you for remembering me. And, by the way, how opportune
- your arrival is. There are two travelers stopping with me, a Moldavian monk and a
- hermit who has lived in silence for twenty-five years in a forest. They want to see you.
- I will call them at once. Here they are.
- 136:
- The Pilgrim. Ah, how blessed a life of solitude is! And how suitable for bringing the
- soul into unbroken union with God! The silent forest is like a garden of Eden in which
- the delightful tree of life grows in the prayerful heart of the recluse. If I had something
- to live on, nothing, I think, would keep me from the life of a hermit!
- The Professor. Everything seems particularly desirable to us from a distance. But
- we all find out by experience that every place, though it may have its advantages,
- has its drawbacks too. Of course, if one is melancholy by temperament and inclined
- to silence, then a solitary life is a comfort. But what a lot of dangers lie along that
- road. The history of the ascetic life provides many instances to show that numbers of
- recluses and hermits, having entirely deprived themselves of human society, have
- fallen into self-deception and profound seductions.
- The Hermit. I am surprised at how often one hears it said in Russia, not only in
- religious houses, but even among God-fearing layfolk, that many who desire the
- hermit life, or exercise in the practice of interior prayer, are held back from following
- up this inclination by the fear that seductions will ruin them. Insisting on this, they
- bring forward instances of the conclusion their minds have arrived at as a reason
- alike for avoiding the interior life themselves and for keeping other people from it
- also. To my mind this arises from two causes: either from failure to understand the
- task and lack of spiritual enlightenment, or from their own indifference to
- contemplative achievement and jealousy lest others who are at a low level in
- comparison with themselves should outdistance them in this higher knowledge. It is a
- great pity that those who hold this conviction do not investigate the teaching of the
- holy Fathers on the matter, for they very decidedly teach that one ought neither to
- fear nor to doubt when one calls upon God. If certain of them have indeed fallen into
- self-deception and fanaticism, that was the result of pride, of not having a director,
- and of taking appearances and imagination for reality. Should such a time of testing
- occur, they continue, it would lead to experience and a crown of glory, for the help of
- God comes swiftly to protect when such a thing is permitted. Be courageous. "I am
- with you, fear not," says Jesus Christ. And it follows from this that to feel fear and
- alarm at the interior life on the pretext of the risk of self-deception is a vain thing. For
- humble consciousness of one's sins, openness of Soul with one's director, and
- "formlessness" in prayer are a strong and safe defense against those tempting
- 137:
- illusions of which many feel so great a fear and, therefore, do not embark upon
- activity of the mind. Incidentally, these very people find themselves exposed to
- temptation, as the wise words of Philotheus the Sinaite tell us. He says, "There are
- many monks who do not understand the illusion of their own minds, which they suffer
- at the hands of demons —that is to say, they give themselves diligently to only one
- form of activity, 'outward good works'; whereas of the mind—that is, of inward
- contemplation—they have little care, since they are unenlightened and ignorant
- about this." "Even if they hear of others that grace works inwardly within them,
- through jealousy they regard it as self-deception/' St. Gregory the Sinaite declares.
- The Professor. Allow me to ask you a question. Of course the consciousness of
- one's sins is proper for everyone who pays any attention to himself. But how does
- one proceed when no director is available to guide one in the way of the interior life
- from his own experience, and when one has opened one's heart to him, to impart to
- one correct and trustworthy knowledge about the spiritual life? In that case, no doubt,
- it would be better not to attempt contemplation rather than try it on one's own without
- a guide. Further, for my part, I don't readily understand how, if one puts oneself in the
- presence of God, it is possible to observe complete "formlessness." It is not natural,
- for our soul or our mind can present nothing to the imagination without form, in
- absolute formlessness. And why, indeed, when the mind is steeped in God, should
- we not present to the imagination Jesus Christ, or the Holy Trinity, and so on?
- The Hermit. The guidance of a director or starets who is experienced and
- knowledgeable in spiritual things, to whom one can open one's heart every day
- without hindrance, with confidence and advantage, and tell one's thoughts and what
- one has met with on the path of interior schooling, is the chief condition for the
- practice of prayer of the heart by one who has entered upon the life of silence. Yet, in
- cases where it is impossible to find such a one, the same holy Fathers who prescribe
- this make an exception. Nicephorus the Monk gives clear instructions about it, thus:
- "During the practice of inward activity of the heart, a genuine and well-informed
- director is required. If such a one is not at hand, then you must diligently search for
- one. If you do not find him, then, calling contritely upon God for help, draw instruction
- and guidance from the teaching of the holy Fathers and verify it from the Word of
- God set forth in the holy Scriptures." Here one must also take into consideration the
- 138:
- fact that the seeker of goodwill and zeal can obtain something useful in the way of
- instruction from ordinary people also. For the holy Fathers assure us likewise, that if
- with faith and right intention one questions even a Saracen, he can speak words of
- value to us. If, on the other hand, one asks for instruction from a prophet, without
- faith and a righteous purpose, then even he will not satisfy us. We see an instance of
- this in the case of Macarius the Great of Egypt, to whom on one occasion a simple
- villager gave an explanation that put an end to the distress which he was
- experiencing.
- As regards "formlessness"—that is, not using the imagination and not accepting
- any sort of vision during contemplation, whether of light, or of an angel, or of Christ,
- or any saint, and turning aside from all dreaming —this, of course, is enjoined by
- experienced holy Fathers for this reason: that the power of the imagination may
- easily incarnate or, so to speak, give life to the representations of the mind, and thus
- the inexperienced might readily be attracted by these figments, take them as visions
- of grace, and fall into self-deception, in spite of the fact that holy Scripture says that
- Satan himself may assume the form of an angel of light. And that the mind can
- naturally and easily be in a state of "formlessness" and keep so, even while
- recollecting the presence of God, can be seen from the fact that the power of the
- imagination can perceptibly present a thing in "formlessness" and maintain its hold
- upon such a presentation. Thus, for example, the representation of our souls, of the
- air, warmth, or cold. When you are cold you can have a lively idea of warmth in your
- mind, though warmth has no shape, is not an object of sight, and is not measured by
- the physical feeling of one who finds himself in the cold. In the same way also the
- presence of the spiritual and incomprehensible being of God may be present to the
- mind and recognized in the heart in absolute formlessness.
- The Pilgrim. During my wanderings I have come across people, devout people
- who were seeking salvation, who have told me that they were afraid to have anything
- to do with the interior life, and denounced it as a mere illusion. To several of them I
- read out of The Philokalia the teaching of St. Gregory the Sinaite with some profit. He
- says that "the action of the heart cannot be an illusion (as that of the mind can), for if
- the enemy desired to turn the warmth of the heart into his own uncontrolled fire, or to
- 139
- change the gladness of the heart into the dull pleasures of the senses, still time,
- experience, and the feeling itself would expose his craftiness and cunning, even for
- those who are not very learned." I have also met other people who, most unhappily,
- after knowing the way of silence and prayer of the heart, have on meeting some
- obstacle or sinful weakness given way to depression, and given up the inward activity
- of the heart which they had known.
- The Professor. Yes, and that is very natural. I have myself experienced the same
- thing at times, on occasions when I have lapsed from the interior frame of mind or
- done something wrong. For since inward prayer of the heart is a holy thing and union
- with God, is it not unseemly and a thing not to be dared to bring a holy thing into a
- sinful heart, without having first purified it by silent contrite penitence and a proper
- preparation for communion with God? It is better to be dumb before God than to offer
- Him thoughtless words out of a heart which is in darkness and distraction.
- The Monk. It is a great pity that you think like that. That is despondency, which is
- the worst of all sins and constitutes the principal weapon of the world of darkness
- against us. The teaching of our experienced holy Fathers about this is quite different.
- Nicetas Stethatus says that if you have fallen and sunk down even into the depths of
- hellish evil, even then you are not to despair, but to turn quickly to God, and He will
- speedily raise up your fallen heart and give you more strength than you had before.
- So after every fall and sinful wounding of the heart, the thing to do is immediately to
- place it in the presence of God for healing and cleansing, just as things that have
- become infected, if they are exposed for some time to the power of the sun's rays,
- lose the sharpness and strength of their infection. Many spiritual writers speak
- positively about this inner conflict with the enemies of salvation, our passions. If you
- receive wounds a thousand times, still you should by no means give up the life-
- giving action—that is to say, calling upon Jesus Christ who is present in our hearts.
- Our actions not only ought not to turn us away from walking in the presence of God
- and from inward prayer, and so produce disquiet, depression, and sadness in us, but
- rather further our swift turning to God. The infant who is led by its mother when it
- begins to walk turns quickly to her and holds on to her firmly when it stumbles.
- The Hermit. I look at it in this way, that the spirit of despondency, and agitating
- and doubting thoughts, are aroused most easily by distraction of the mind and failure
- 140:
- to guard the silent resort of one's inner self. The ancient Fathers in their divine
- wisdom won the victory over despondency and received inward light and strength
- through hope in God, through peaceful silence and solitude, and they have given us
- wise and useful counsel: "Sit silently in your cell and it will teach you everything."
- The Professor. I have such confidence in you that I listen very gladly to your
- critical analysis of my thoughts about the silence which you praise so highly, and the
- benefits of the solitary life which hermits so love to lead. Well, this is what I think:
- Since all people, by the law of nature ordained by the creator, are placed in
- necessary dependence upon one another and, therefore, are bound to help one
- another in life, to labor for one another, and to be of service to one another, this
- sociability makes for the well-being of the human race and shows love for one's
- neighbor. But the silent hermit who has withdrawn from human society, in what way
- can he, in his inactivity, be of service to his neighbor and what contribution can he
- make to the well-being of human society? He completely destroys in himself that law
- of the creator which concerns union in love of one's kind and beneficent influence
- upon the brotherhood.
- The Hermit. Since this view of yours about silence is incorrect, the conclusion you
- draw from it will not hold good. Let us consider it in detail. (1) The man who lives in
- silent solitude is not only not living in a state of inactivity and idleness; he is in the
- highest degree active, even more than the one who takes part in the life of society.
- He untiringly acts according to his highest rational nature; he is on guard; he
- ponders; he keeps his eye upon the state and progress of his moral existence. This is
- the true purpose of silence. And in the measure that this ministers to his own
- improvement, it benefits others for whom un- distracted submergence within
- themselves for the development of the moral life is impossible. For he who watches
- in silence, by communicating his inward experiences either by word (in exceptional
- cases) or by committing them to writing, promotes the spiritual advantage and the
- salvation of his brethren. And he does more, and that of a higher kind, than the
- private benefactor, because the private, emotional charities of people in the world are
- always limited by the small number of benefits conferred, whereas he who confers
- benefits by morally attaining to convincing and tested means of perfecting the
- spiritual life becomes a benefactor of whole peoples. His experience and teaching
- 141
- pass on from generation to generation, as we see ourselves and of which we avail
- ourselves from ancient times to this day. And this in no sense differs from Christian
- love; it even surpasses it in its results. (2) The beneficent and most useful influence
- of the man who observes silence upon his neighbors is not only shown in the
- communication of his instructive observations upon the interior life, but also the very
- example of his separated life benefits the attentive layman by leading him to self-
- knowledge and arousing in him the feeling of reverence. The man who lives in the
- world, hearing of the devout recluse, or going past the door of his hermitage, feels an
- impulse to the devout life, has recalled to his mind what man can be upon earth, that
- it is possible for man to get back to that primitive contemplative state in which he
- issued from the hands of his creator. The silent recluse teaches by his very silence,
- and by his very life he benefits, edifies, and persuades to the search for God. (3) This
- benefit springs from genuine silence which is illuminated and sanctified by the light of
- grace. But if the silent one did not have these gifts of grace which make him a light to
- the world, even if he should have embarked upon the way of silence with the purpose
- of hiding himself from the society of his kind as the result of sloth and indifference,
- even then he would confer a great benefit upon the community in which he lives, just
- as the gardener cuts off dry and barren branches and clears away the weeds so that
- the growth of the best and most useful may be unimpeded. And this is a great deal. It
- is of general benefit that the silent one by his seclusion removes the temptations
- which would inevitably arise from his unedifying life among people and be injurious to
- the morals of his neighbors.
- On the subject of the importance of silence, St. Isaac the Syrian exclaims as
- follows: "When on one side we place all the actions of this life and on the other
- silence, we find that it weighs down the scales. Do not place those who perform signs
- and wonders in the world on a level with those who keep silence with knowledge.
- Love the inactivity of silence more than the satiety of greedy ones in the world and
- the turning of many people to God. It is better for you to cut yourself free from the
- bonds of sin than to liberate slaves from their servitude." Even the most elementary
- sages have recognized the value of silence. The philosophical school of the
- Neoplatonists, which embraced many adherents under the guidance of the
- philosopher Plotinus, developed to a high degree the inner contemplative life which is
- 142:
- attained most especially in silence. One spiritual writer said that if the state were
- developed to the highest degree of education and morals, yet even then it would still
- be necessary to provide people for contemplation, in addition to the general activities
- of citizens, in order to preserve the spirit of truth, and having received it from all the
- centuries that are past, to keep it for the generations to come and hand it on to
- posterity. Such people, in the church, are hermits, recluses, and anchorites.
- The Pilgrim. I think that no one has so truly valued the excellences of silence as
- St. John of the ladder. "Silence," he says, "is the mother of prayer, a return from the
- captivity of sin, unconscious success in virtue, a continuous ascension to heaven."
- Yes, and Jesus Christ Himself, in order to show us the advantage and necessity of
- silent seclusion, often left His public preaching and went into silent places for prayer
- and quietude. The silent contemplatives are like pillars supporting the devotion of the
- church by their secret continuous prayer. Even in the distant past, one sees that
- many devout layfolk, and even kings and their courtiers, went to visit hermits and
- men who kept silence in order to ask them to pray for their strengthening and
- salvation. Thus the silent recluse, too, can serve his neighbor and act to the
- advantage and the happiness of society by his secluded prayer.
- The Professor. Now, there again, that is a thought which I do not very easily
- understand. It is a general custom among all of us Christians to ask for each other's
- prayers, to want another to pray for me, and to have special confidence in a member
- of the church. Is not this simply a demand of self-love? Is it not that we have only
- caught the habit of saying what we have heard others say, as a sort of fancy of the
- mind without any serious consideration? Does God require human intercession, since
- He foresees everything and acts according to His all-blessed providence and not
- according to our desire, knowing and settling everything before our petition is made,
- as the holy gospel says? Can the prayer of many people really be any stronger to
- overcome His decisions than the prayer of one person? In that case God would be a
- respecter of persons. Can the prayer of another person really save me when
- everybody is commended or put to shame on the ground of his own actions? And,
- therefore, the request for the prayers of another person is to my mind merely a pious
- expression of spiritual courtesy, which shows signs of humility and a desire to please
- by preferring one another, and that is all.
- 143,
- The Monk. If one take only outward considerations into account, and with an
- elementary philosophy, it might be put in that way. But the spiritual reason blessed by
- the light of religion and trained by the experiences of the interior life goes a good deal
- deeper, contemplates more clearly, and in a mystery reveals something entirely
- different from what you have put forward. So that we may understand this more
- quickly and clearly, let us take an example and then verify the truth of it from the
- Word of God. Let us say that a pupil came to a certain teacher for instruction. His
- feeble capacities and, what is more, his idleness and lack of concentration prevented
- him from attaining any success in his studies, and they put him in the category of the
- idle and unsuccessful. Feeling sad at this, he did not know what to do, nor how to
- contend with his deficiencies. Then he met another pupil, a classmate of his, who
- was more able than he, more diligent and successful, and he explained his trouble to
- him. The other took an interest in him and invited him to work with him. "Let us work
- together," he said, "and we shall be keener, more cheerful and, therefore, more
- successful." And so they began to study together, each sharing with the other what
- he understood. The subject of their study was the same. And what followed after
- several days? The indifferent one became diligent; he came to like his work, his
- carelessness was changed to ardor and intelligence, which had a beneficial effect
- upon his character and morals also. And the intelligent one in his turn became more
- able and industrious. In the effect they had upon one another they arrived at a
- common advantage. And this is very natural, for man is born in the society of people;
- he develops his rational understanding through people, habits of life, training,
- emotions, the action of the will—in a word, everything he receives from the example
- of his kind. And, therefore, as the life of men consists in the closest relations and the
- strongest influences of one upon another, he who lives among a certain sort of
- people becomes accustomed to that kind of habit, behavior, and morals.
- Consequently the cool become enthusiastic, the stupid become sharp, the idle are
- aroused to activity by a lively interest in their fellow men. Spirit can give itself to spirit
- and act beneficially upon another and attract another to prayer, to attention. It can
- encourage him in despondency, turn him from vice, and arouse him to holy action.
- And so by helping each other they can become more devout, more energetic
- spiritually, more reverent. There you have the secret of prayer for others, which
- 144:
- explains the devout custom on the part of Christian people of praying for one another
- and asking for the prayers of the brethren.
- And from this one can see that it is not that God is pleased, as the great ones of
- this world are, by a great many petitions and intercessions, but that the very spirit and
- power of prayer cleanses and arouses the soul for whom the prayer is offered and
- presents it ready for union with God. If mutual prayer by those who are living upon
- earth is so beneficial, then in the same way we may infer that prayer for the departed
- also is mutually beneficial because of the very close link that exists between the
- heavenly world and this. In this way souls of the Church Militant can be drawn into
- union with souls of the Church Triumphant, or, what is the same thing, the living with
- the dead.
- All that I have said is psychological reasoning, but if we open holy Scripture we
- can verify the truth of it. (1) Jesus Christ says to the Apostle Peter, "I have prayed for
- thee, that thy faith fail not." There you see that the power of Christ's prayer
- strengthens the spirit of St. Peter and encourages him when his faith is tested. (2)
- When the Apostle Peter was kept in prison, "prayer was made without ceasing of the
- church unto God for him." Here we have revealed the help which brotherly prayer
- gives in the troubled circumstances of life. (3) But the clearest precept about prayer
- for others is put by the holy Apostle James in this way: "Confess your sins one to
- another, and pray for one another.... The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man
- availeth much." Here is definite confirmation of the psychological argument above.
- And what are we to say of the example of the holy Apostle Paul, which is given to us
- as the pattern of prayer for one another? One writer observes that this example of the
- holy Apostle Paul should teach us how necessary prayer for one another is, when so
- holy and strong a podvizhnik acknowledges his own need of this spiritual help. In the
- Epistle to the Hebrews he words his request in this way: "Pray for us: for we trust we
- have a good conscience, in all things willing to live honestly" (Heb. 13:18). When we
- take note of this, how unreasonable it seems to rely upon our own prayers and
- successes only, when a man so holy, so full of grace, in his humility asks for the
- prayers of his neighbors (the Hebrews) to be joined to his own. Therefore, in humility,
- simplicity, and unity of love we should not reject or disdain the help of the prayers of
- even the feeblest of believers, when the clear-sighted spirit of the Apostle Paul felt no
- 145:
- hesitation about it. He asks for the prayers of all in general, knowing that the power of
- God is made perfect in weakness. Consequently it can at times be made perfect in
- those who seem able to pray but feebly. Feeling the force of this example, we notice
- further that prayer one for another strengthens that unity in Christian love which is
- commanded by God, witnesses to humility in the spirit of him who makes the request,
- and, so to speak, attracts the spirit of him who prays. Mutual intercession is
- stimulated in this way.
- The Professor. Your analysis and your proofs are admirable and exact, but it
- would be interesting to hear from you the actual method and form of prayer for
- others. For I think that if the fruitfulness and attractive power of prayer depend upon a
- living interest in our neighbors, and conspicuously upon the constant influence of the
- spirit of him who prays upon the spirit of him who asked for prayer, such a state of
- soul might draw one away from the uninterrupted sense of the invisible presence of
- God and the outpouring of one's soul before God in one's own needs. And if one
- brings one's neighbor to mind just once or twice in the day, with sympathy for him,
- asking the help of God for him, would that not be enough for the attracting and
- strengthening of his soul? To put it briefly, I should like to know exactly how to pray
- for others.
- The Monk. Prayer which is offered to God for anything whatever ought not, and
- cannot, take us away from the sense of the presence of God, for if it is an offering
- made to God, then, of course, it must be in His presence. So far as the method of
- praying for others is concerned, it must be noted that the power of this sort of prayer
- consists in true Christian sympathy with one's neighbor, and it has an influence upon
- his soul according to the extent of that sympathy. Therefore, when one happens to
- remember him (one's neighbor), or at the time appointed for doing so, it is well to
- bring a mental view of him into the presence of God, and to offer prayer in the
- following form: "Most merciful God, Thy will be done, which will have all men to be
- saved and to come unto the knowledge of the truth, save and help Thy servant N.
- Take this desire of mine as a cry of love which Thou hast commanded." Commonly
- you will repeat those words when your soul feels moved to do so, or you might tell
- your beads with this prayer. I have found from experience how beneficially such a
- prayer acts upon him for whom it is offered.
- 146:
- The Professor. Your views and arguments and the edifying conversation and
- illuminating thoughts which spring from them are such that I shall feel bound to keep
- them in my memory, and to give you all the reverence and thanks of my grateful
- heart.
- The Pilgrim and the Professor. The time has come for us to go. Most heartily we
- ask for your prayers upon our journey and upon our companionship.
- The Starets. "The God of peace that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus,
- that great shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant,
- make you perfect in every good work to do His will, working in you that which is well
- pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever.
- Amen" (Heb. 13:20, 21).
- Notes
- 1. Starets, pi. startsi. A monk distinguished by his great piety, long experience of
- the spiritual life, and gift for guiding other souls. Layfolk frequently resort to startsi for
- spiritual counsel. In a monastery a new member of the community is attached to a
- starets, who trains and teaches him.
- 2. Philokalia (in Russian: Dobrotolyubie). "The Love of Spiritual Beauty." The title
- of the great collection of mystical and ascetic writings by Fathers of the Eastern
- Orthodox Church, over a period of eleven centuries.
- 3. Dyachok. A minister whose chief liturgical function is to chant psalms and the
- epistle in the Russian Church.
- 4. Mir. The assembly of all the peasant householders in a village. It was a very
- ancient institution in which the peasants only had a voice, even the great landowners
- being excluded. The mir enjoyed a certain measure of self-government and elected
- representatives to the larger peasant assembly of the volost, which included several
- mirs. The starosta was the elected headman of the mir.
- 5. Zavalina. A bank of earth against the front wall of the house, flat-topped and
- used as a seat.
- 6. Priests. The word is ksendz, which means a Polish priest of the Roman
- Catholic Church. The steward, being a Pole, was a Roman Catholic.
- 147:
- 7. Skhimnik (fem. skhimnitsa). A monk (nun) of the highest grade. The distinction
- between simple and solemn vows which has arisen in the West has never found a
- place in orthodox monasticism. In the latter, Religious are of three grades,
- distinguished by their habit, and the highest grade is pledged to a stricter degree of
- asceticism and a greater amount of time spent in prayer. The Russian skhimnik is the
- Greek megaloschemos.
- 8. Icon. The icon or sacred picture occupies a prominent position in orthodox life.
- In Russia, icons are found not only in churches but in public buildings of all sorts, as
- well as in private houses. In the devout Russian's room the icon will hang or rest on a
- shelf diagonally across a corner opposite the door, and a reverence will be made to it
- by a person entering or leaving the room.
- 9. Onoochi. Long strips of material, generally coarse linen, which the Russian
- peasant wraps around his feet and legs instead of wearing stockings.
- 10. Bashmaki. A kind of shoes.
- 11. Altar. In orthodox churches, altar is the name of that part of the building which
- is known in the West as the sanctuary. What Westerners call the altar is in the East
- the throne or holy table. In orthodox phraseology the throne stands in the altar.
- 12. Batyushka. "Little Father," a familiar and affectionate form of address, applied
- usually to priests.
- 13. Dark water. The popular name for glaucoma.
- 14. The Tartars, of course, being Moslems.
- 15. Samovar. A sort of urn heated with charcoal to supply hot water for tea.
- 16. Evreinov. Literally the name means "son of a Jew."
- 17. Kotomka. A sort of knapsack made of birch bark. It has two pockets, one in
- front and another behind , and is worn slung over the shoulder.
- 18. Starosta. The headman of the village community, or mir.
- 19. Near the saints—that is, near where they are buried, the Kiev-Pecherskaya
- Lavra. This was one of the most famous and influential monasteries in Russia and
- was visited by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims every year. It was founded in the
- eleventh century, and its catacombs still contain the uncorrupted bodies of many
- saints of ancient Russia.
- 148:
- 20. From the eighth prayer in the morning prayers of the lay prayer book of the
- Russian Church.
- NOTES
- 21. Lavra. Originally a monastery which followed the rule of St. Anthony, but later
- used simply to designate certain large monasteries. Besides Kiev, there were eight
- monasteries in Russia that bore the title "Lavra."
- 22. The Holy Footprint. The legend, which is said to date from about the thirteenth
- century, says that Our Lady surrounded by saints appeared in a blaze of glory to a
- group of shepherds. The rock upon which she stood was afterward found to bear the
- imprint of her foot, and from it trickled a flow of water which subsequently proved to
- have healing powers. A monastery was later built over the site and the shrine of the
- footprint is still preserved in the crypt.
- 23. Pravoslavny. The name which the Russians give to the orthodox church.
- Literally it means "right praising."
- 24. Raskolniki. Literally "schismatics," sometimes called "old believers." In the
- seventeenth century Nikon, the patriarch of Moscow, in the face of fierce opposition,
- carried through a reform of the service books. The old believers, led by Avvakum,
- seceded from the church rather than accept the changes. The origin of Russian
- dissent is, therefore, the exact opposite of the origin of English dissent. The raskolniki
- afterward themselves split into more sects, some having a priesthood and some
- being without. Some of these sects degenerated into oddities and indulged in the
- strangest excesses. But the more sober element among the old believers
- incorporates some of the best of the Russian religious spirit and character. Altogether
- these sects numbered some 2 percent of the Christian population of the empire at the
- beginning of the twentieth century. There is an English version of the autobiography
- of the archpriest Awakum.
- 25. Podvizhnik. A podvig is a notable exploit, and the man who performs it is a
- podvizhnik. The terms are applied in the spiritual life to outstanding achievements in
- the life of prayer and ascetic practices, and to those who attain to them.
- 26. Bobil. A landless peasant, hence a miserable poverty- stricken fellow.
- 149,
- 27. Solovetsky. The famous monastery on the group of islands of that name in the
- White Sea. It was founded in 1429 by St. German and St. Sabbas. The former had
- been a monk of Valaam.
- 28. Skeet. A small monastic community dependent upon a large monastery.
- 29. Acathist. One of the many forms of the liturgical hym- nody of the Orthodox
- Church. Its characteristic is praise. There are acathists of Our Lady and of the saints.
- The Kanon is another element which enters into the structure of Eastern Orthodox
- services. Further information on this subject may be found in the writers' article on
- Eastern Orthodox services in Liturgy and Worship, p. 834.
- 30. The original has a note here as follows: "From the author's MS received by
- Father Ambrose of the Dobry Monastery."
- 31. The original has a note here as follows: "In the nineties of the last century
- there died at the Troitskaya Lavra a starets, a layman in his 108th year; he could not
- read or write, but he said the Jesus prayer even during his sleep, and lived
- continually as the child of God, with a heart that yearned for Him. His name was
- Gordi." Troitskaya Lavra is the famous monastery of the Holy Trinity near Moscow,
- founded by St. Sergei in the fourteenth century. The part it played in Russian
- religious life has been compared by Frere in some respects to the Cluniac movement
- (Links in the Chain of Russian Church History, p. 36). The Troitskaya Lavra was
- intimately connected with Russian history, and was the focal point of the national
- movement which drove out the Poles and placed the first Romanov on the Russian
- throne in 1613.
- 32. St. Augustine. The reference is to Dilige, et quod vis fac. St. Augustine, Tract
- on the First Epistle of St. John, Tract VII, Chapter X, paragraph 8, Edition Migne, III,
- p. 2033.
- 33. Otechnik. Lives of the Fathers with extracts from their writings.
- Biographical Notes
- Anthony the Great was born about A.D. 250 in Egypt. As a young man he
- adopted the solitary life of the ascetic and was perhaps the first to withdraw into the
- desert to live a hermit's life. His influence spread widely and he kept in touch with his
- friend St. Athanasius the Great, who wrote his Life.
- 150:
- Basil the Great was bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia in the fourth century. A
- great writer and preacher, he was a reformer also in the spheres of the liturgy and the
- monastic life. The "Liturgy of St. Basil" is used by the orthodox on Sundays in Lent
- and a few other days. Orthodox monks and nuns follow the Rule of St. Basil.
- Blessed Diadokh was bishop of Photice in Epirus. Victor, bishop of Utica, writing in
- the preface to his History of the Barbarity of the Vandals about the year 490, calls
- himself the pupil of Diadokh and speaks in high praise of his spiritual writings.
- Diadokh, therefore, flourished in the second half of the fifth century. His signature
- appears among those attached to the letter from the Epirote bishops to the Emperor
- Leo. Nothing more is known of him.
- Callistus the Patriarch, a disciple of Gregory the Sinaite in the skeet of Magoola
- on Mount Athos, led the ascetic life for twenty-eight years in company with one Mark,
- and especially with Ignatius, with whom he had so great a friendship that "it appeared
- as though but one spirit was in the two of them." Later, after he had been made
- patriarch, he was passing by Mount Athos on his way to Serbia, and during his stay
- in the holy mountain one Maxium foretold his early death. "This starets will not see
- his flock again, for behind him can be heard the funeral hymn, 'Blessed are they that
- are undeftled in the way.'" On his arrival in Serbia, Callistus did, in fact, die. Gregory
- Palamas, in his treatise on the Jesus prayer, speaks very highly of the writings of
- Callistus and Ignatius on the same subject. They lived in the middle of the fourteenth
- century.
- Chrysostom. The most famous of the Greek Fathers. He was born about A.D. 345
- at Antioch in Syria and was trained as a lawyer. At the age of thirty-five, however, he
- was baptized and later ordained. He became archbishop of Constantinople, in which
- office he led a life of ascetic simplicity and was celebrated for his writings and
- sermons. (The name means "golden-mouthed.") He died in 407.
- Ephraem the Syrian. The great Syriac writer, poet, and commentator of the fourth
- century. He was ordained deacon but in humility refused any higher order. The bulk
- of his vast output of literary work was written in verse and upon many varieties of
- theological subjects. He was a notable champion of orthodoxy, especially against
- Marcion and in defense of the creed of Nicaea. He died at Edessa about A.D. 373.
- 151
- Gregory Palamas. A fourteenth-century monk of Athos and the outstanding
- defender on dogmatic grounds of hesychasm (see Simeon the New Theologian), to
- which the Council of St. Sophia gave the official approval of the Orthodox Church in
- 1351. Palamas died as archbishop of Thessalonika in 1359.
- Gregory the Sinaite took the habit in the monastery on Mount Sinai about the year
- 1330. Later he went to Mount Athos, where he stimulated the contemplative life. He
- also founded three great lavras in Macedonia and taught the practice of unceasing
- prayer. Callistus, the patriarch of Constantinople, a former pupil of his, wrote his Life.
- Innocent was one of the great Russian missionaries of the eighteenth century. By
- the appointment of Peter the Great he was consecrated to be the first bishop of
- Peking, but the
- BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES
- Chinese refused to allow the establishment of the bishopric in that city, and Innocent
- became bishop of Irkutsk. He labored as a missionary bishop for some ten years and
- died at Irkutsk in 1731.
- Isikhi was a native of Jerusalem and in his early years a pupil of Gregory the
- theologian. He retired to one of the hermitages in Palestine for some years, but
- became a priest in the year 412 and established a great reputation as a teacher and
- interpreter of holy Scripture. The date of his death is given as 432-433.
- John of Damascus. The famous theologian and hymn writer who lived in Palestine
- in the eighth century and is honored in East and West alike. His great work, The
- Fountain of Knowledge, is concerned with religious philosophy and dogmatic
- theology. A man of immense learning in many fields, he is well known for his three
- treatises in defense of the "images" (icons). One or two of St. John Damascene's
- very large output of hymns are to be found in English hymn books, for example,
- "Come ye faithful, raise the strain," "The Day of Resurrection," and "What sweet of
- life endureth."
- John Karpathisky. Nothing certain seems to be known about this writer. But
- Photius speaks of reading a book which contained, besides writings of Diadokh and
- Nil, a section by John Karpathisky entitled "A consoling word to the monks who have
- turned to him for consolation from India." This had been taken to imply that he was a
- 152
- contemporary of Diadokh and Nil and belongs to the fifth century. Karpathos is an
- island between Rhodes and Crete, and he was presumably either a native of the
- island or lived there for some time.
- Kassian the Roman was born betwepr350 and 360, probably in the neighborhood
- of Marseilles, His parents were well-known people and wealthy, and he received a
- good education. He went to the East and became a monk at Bethlehem. About two
- years later, hearing of the ascetic achievements of the Egyptian
- Fathers, he went with a friend, German, to visit them. This was about the year 390.
- Except for a short visit to their own monastery in 397, the friends stayed among the
- Egyptian hermits until the year 400. In that year they went to Constantinople, where
- they were received by St. John Chrysostom, who ordained Kassian deacon and
- German priest. The two friends were among those who were sent in 405 to Rome by
- the friends of Chrysostom to seek help for him when he was imprisoned. Kassian did
- not return to the East, but spent the rest of his life in his native land, still practicing the
- severe asceticism he had learned in Egypt. He left some twelve volumes on the
- constitution and ordering of the monastic life, written, it is said, at the request of many
- in whom the monasteries he founded inspired great admiration. He died in 435 and is
- commemorated by the orthodox on February 29.
- Macarius the Great (of Egypt) was the son of a peasant and himself a shepherd.
- Feeling a strong attraction to the hermit's life, he retired to a cell near his own village
- and later withdrew with some other monks into the desert on the borders of Libya and
- Egypt. He was ordained priest and became the head of the brotherhood. He suffered
- at the hands of the Arians for his rigid orthodoxy and died in the year 390 in the
- desert at the age of ninety, having spent sixty years in solitude. Miraculous power
- and the gift of prophecy were attributed to him. He left numerous writings on the
- spiritual life. His relics are venerated at Amalfi.
- Mark the Podvizhnik was one of the most notable of the Egyptian Fathers, but
- little is known of his life. He is said to have been mild and gentle, to have had such
- love of the study of holy Scriptures that he knew both the Old and New Testaments
- by heart. He is supposed to have lived beyond the age of a hundred years and to
- have died at the beginning of the fifth century. He left behind him the memory of his
- 153
- deep spirituality and of his devotion to Holy Communion; but few of the numerous
- writings ascribed to him have survived.
- BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES
- Nicephorus the Recluse was a great ascetic of Mount Athos who died shortly
- before 1340. He was the director of Gregory of Salonika (Palamas).
- Nicetas Stethatus was a presbyter of the Studium in the eleventh century and a
- pupil of St. Simeon the new theologian, whose virtues and wisdom he absorbed to
- such an extent that he was said to shine as the twin sun of his teacher.
- Philotheus was igumen (abbot) of the Slav monastic community on Mount Sinai,
- but at what date is not known.
- Simeon the New Theologian died in the first half of the eleventh century. He was
- a monk of the Studium in Constantinople and a great visionary and mystic. His
- visions began when he was a boy of fourteen. The Method (i.e., the hesychast
- method of prayer, the way of using the Jesus prayer) has been attributed to him, but
- Hausherr gives reasons for concluding that he was not the author, though his
- influence contributed to the spread of the method. Various explanations of his name
- have been given, and it has sometimes been translated as "Simeon the young, the
- theologian"; but according to Nicetas Stethatus, who wrote his life, the name recalls
- St. John the divine, and so would mean "the new St. John." An examination of the
- whole subject of the hesychast method and its connection with Simeon is to be found
- in Orientalia Christiana, Vol. ix, No. 36, June-July, 1927.
- St. John of the Ladder, or Klimax, lived for forty years in a cave at the foot of
- Mount Sinai. Then he became abbot of the monastery on the mountain. He died
- about 600. He wrote a book called The Ladder to Paradise, and from this he derives
- his name. The Ladder has been translated into English.
- Theolept. A monk of Mount Athos, and later Metropolitan of Philadelphia. Among
- his pupils at Athos was Gregory Palamas.
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