The Wisdom and Stories of the Ancient Desert Fathers
A certain
elder, who was asked by the brothers what condemnation is and what it means to
speak ill of another, gave the following explanation:
"In
the case of speaking ill of someone, one reveals the hidden faults of his
brother. In the case of condemnation, one censures something obvious. On the
one hand, if someone were to say, for example, that such-and-such a brother is
well-intentioned and kind, but lacks discretion, this would be to speak ill of
him. If, however one were to say that so-and-so is greedy and miserly, this is
condemnation, for in this way he censures his neighbor's deeds. Condemnation is
worse than speaking ill of another."
* * *
A young
monk went to consult a certain spiritual elder.
"I
fulfill all of my monastic duties," he told him, "and then some; nevertheless,
my soul finds no peace. I receive no consolation from God."
"You
live according to your own will - for this reason all of these things occur to
you," the elder explained to him.
"What
must I do, then, Abba, to be at peace?"
"Go
find an elder having the fear of God in his soul. Surrender yourself to him in
all that he wishes and let him guide you, as he sees fit, to the path of God.
Then your soul will find consolation."
The youth
listened to the elder's advice and his soul found peace.
* * *
A modern
elder said: "Any man who thinks that he can solve his own problems is like
a bird which intends to fly without wings."
* * *
An
inexperienced monk consulted a certain insightful elder regarding what rule of
fasting he should follow.
"Avoid
excesses, my child," he advised him. "Many have tried to fast beyond
their powers and did not endure for very long."
* * *
"Be
obedient," the holy man advised him, "and if temptation should arise
before you, say these words: 'O God of powers, through the intercession of my
spiritual Father, deliver me.'"
The
brother took courage from the words of the Abba and went immediately about his
duty. The devil, however, who had been biding his time to bring harm to the
monk, sent a woman of evil ways hastily to entrap him in her evil den. In his
despair, the monk suddenly remembered the advice of Abba Ammoun and shouted
with faith: "O God of powers, through the intercession of my spiritual
Father, deliver me."
He then
found himself, without knowing how, on the road that led to the desert.
* * *
The
following is an excerpt from a letter of Saint Basil the Great to a certain
noble patrician:
"It
is good and profitable to communicate everyday and to partake of the holy Body
and Blood of Christ, for He Himself tells us: 'Whoever eats my Body and drinks
my Blood has eternal life!' Who, then, doubts that partaking continually of
life means nothing other than having manifold life? We, here, have the custom
of communicating four times a week; namely, Sunday, Wednesday, Friday,
Saturday, or any other day on which the memory of a Saint falls."
"It
is not wise," Abba Isaias the Anchorite writes, "for anyone to know
how to converse masterfully. Wisdom is to know when to talk and what to say.
Appear to be ignorant, in order to save yourselves many pains. He who thinks
himself very learned has many fruitless worries. Do not boast of great
learning, for the things which you do not know are more than those which you
have learned."
* * *
A holy
archbishop in our own times gave the following advice to a young monk regarding
the monastic style he should follow:
"Seek
humility at all costs. Those who have attained the highest degree of humility
are the 'fools for Christ,' who, in order to hide their great spiritual gifts,
let others believe that they are fools. But in these days, when arrogance is
epidemic, there are many who, if they try this monastic path, will become proud
in being fools. It is too easy for Satan to make their hidden motives public.
And there is always the temptation for the fool to disclose his monastic style
or podvig to a few, in order to release himself from this hard path. I would,
therefore, advise anyone who wishes to undertake this path to do it in an even
deeper way. Do foolish things, but be ever so obvious, so that others perceive
that you are pretending foolishness. In this way you will be judged as
spiritually naive and deluded. Everyone will curse you. And you will have
succeeded in the very thing to which the 'fools' of times past aspired. At
every moment you must know that the warfare of the devil against the monk is
especially strong today."
* * *
"However
much you may toil in scattering seed on the path that you walk on, not a green
leaf will grow. As well, as much as you labor to cultivate a heart weighed-down
with worldly cares, you toil in vain; it is impossible to foster virtues there.
For this reason the Fathers chose to leave the world," a certain Abba
says.
"When
the Hebrews ceased being occupied with labors for the Egyptians, and lived in
tents, they learned to worship God," said a wise Father. "And ships
do business and make profits in the harbor, not on the open seas. It is the
same with the soul; if it does not cease being occupied with worldly things and
does not stay in a quiet place, it neither finds God nor acquires
virtues."
* * *
"True
escape from the world is for a person to know how to control his tongue,
wherever he might be," Abba Tithoes said.
* * *
A young
disciple, seeing his elder frequently withdraw deep into the desert, asked him
with perplexity: "Why, Abba, do you avoid people? Is it not of greater
value when, staying in the world and facing evil and sin, one abhors
them?"
"Listen,
my child," the kind elder explained to him: "Until one reaches the
stature of Moses, becoming deified, he receives no profit from his relations
with the world. I, the unfortunate offspring of Adam, suffer frequently that
which my father suffered. The moment I behold the fruit of my disobedience, I desire
it, I taste it, and I suffer. In the desert, one does not easily find material
things to feed the passions and they are, therefore, more likely to die."
One of
the Fathers at a certain skete had the gift of clairvoyance. When a gathering
(monastic council) took place and the Fathers discussed spiritual matters, he
would see angels around him, applauding them. When the discussion turned to
worldly matters, the angels withdrew, saddened.
* * *
It was
often said of Abba Or by his fellow ascetics that neither a falsehood nor an
oath ever came out of his mouth. He never judged another man, nor was he at any
time heard to speak, unless it was absolutely necessary.
To his
young disciple he used to say: "Take great care, Paul, never to bring
outside talk to this cell."
* * *
"With
what difficulty I work to control my tongue," a young monk agitatedly said
one day to Abba Nistheros.
"When
you talk, do you find peace?"
"Never."
"Then
why do you talk? Learn to be silent. When it is a matter of something of
profit, it is better to listen to others than to speak," the wise elder
advised him.
* * *
"He
who has learned to be silent has found peace in all things." Abba Poimen
likewise says.
* * *
"If
you succeed in having God always before you eyes," another Father says,
"whether you are lying down to sleep, or rising from your bed, or doing
some kind of work, the devil will not dare to harm you. The grace of God will
protect you, to the extent that your mind is united with Him."
"What
wretches we are," laments one elder. "We are ashamed to commit some
evil act before men, but we are not afraid or ashamed to act impiously and to
sin before God, who knows all of the hidden things of our hearts."
* * *
A certain
holy elder once saw the devil with his own eyes and he boldly asked him:
"Why do you battle me with such persistence?"
"Because
you resist me continuously with your humility," the devil answered,
becoming invisible.
* * *
Just as
Saint Makarios was returning to his cell one day, loaded down with palm leaves
for his handicraft work, the devil stopped him, ready to assault him; but he
could not. Some invincible force prevented him.
"You
have tormented me a great deal, Makarios," the devil shouted at him
fiercely. "I have battled you so many years and yet I cannot pull you
down. But what more have you accomplished than I? Perhaps fasting? I, of
course, do not eat. Vigils? I do not even need sleep. You have only one threat
that frightens me."
"What
is that?" the Saint asked with great interest.
"Humility,"
he unwillingly acknowledged, disappearing.
* * *
"Why
does the devil battle monks so passionately?" the brothers asked a spiritual
elder. "How does he have such effrontery?"
"If
the monks knew immediately how to raise defensive weapons - humility, poverty,
and patience - the devil would never dare to approach them," the elder
replied.
* * *
In the
last moments of his life, Abba Pambo said these words to the brothers, who
surrounded him: "From the time that I became a monk, not even once did I
not repent for the words that came out of my mouth. Nevertheless, now that I am
going to my Lord, I realize that I have not even made a beginning."
* * *
"Why,
Abba, do today's monks, though they toil, not receive the same gifts from God
that the ancient Fathers received?" a certain brother asked an elder.
"In
ancient times," the venerable elder replied, "there was love between
the monks, and each one showed readiness to aid his brother in ascending to
higher things. Now love has grown cold and one monk leads another to lower
things, and for this reason God no longer grants spiritual gifts."
* * *
Abba
John, who was the Abbot of a large monastery in Egypt, once went deep into the
desert to meet Saint Paisios, the renowned ascetic, who had struggled alone
there for a full forty years.
"What
have you accomplished, living so far from people, Father?" Abba John asked
him.
"From
the time I came here, the sun has never seen me eat," replied the Saint.
"As
for me, it has never seen me angry," the Abba said.
* * *
The
Patriarch Theophilos of Alexandria once set out to go visit the ascetics at
Nitria. On the road, he met an elderly ascetic.
"What
have you gained, Abba, living in this solitude?" the Patriarch asked.
"I
have come to know myself well," the elder answered, "and I have
learned to reproach myself."
"It
is impossible for a man to attain any greater profit than this in his
life," the Patriarch acknowledged.
When he
reached the skete, the Fathers came out to greet him, and each found some word
to say to him. Only the holy Pambo stood out of the way, silent.
"Are
you not going to say anything to the Patriarch for his benefit?" the elders
asked.
"If
he does not benefit from my silence, brothers, neither will he benefit from my
words," answered the wise Father.
* * *
"Many
people," a modern spiritual writer says, "have the virtue of humility
in some circumstances. They then succumb to a supposed demand of their social
stature or profession and, under the guise of 'social necessity' or
'professionalism,' become arrogant in other circumstances. This is much like
mixing soil and water in a container. When the container is untouched and at
rest, the soil will settle and the water will remain sweet. But if the
container is agitated, then the water and the soil are mixed and become mud.
The mud then dries, the water evaporates, and only soil is left. Thus only a
person of true peace, incapable of agitation, can actually maintain humble
virtue, meanwhile tolerating in himself any ostensibly worldly behavior."
* * *
Yet
another spiritual man of our time has said: "When we look down upon any
man, because of his color, nationality, or some other shallow thing, we destroy
our own souls. Since we are one with all men in Christ, we condemn ourselves
when we condemn others. And since the Holy Spirit dwells in all people, when we
denigrate anyone for what he is, we blaspheme the Holy Spirit, which indwells
him. It is wise for a man, therefore, to avoid anyone who speaks against others
because of the color of their skin or because of any other external attribute
which God has given them."
* * *
"My
dog," Abba Isidoros once said, "is in a more advantageous position
than I; for, he has love and he does not have to give a defense for his
deeds."
* * *
"I,
too, will go to the place to which the devil will be condemned," Abba
Poimen said, humbling himself.
Another
time he said: "Man needs humility and the fear of God as much as he needs
the air which he breathes."
On
another occasion, he said: "The most useful tools for the soul are
humility, self-reprobation, and disdain for one's own will."
* * *
The devil
appeared to a very humble monk as an angel of light and told him, in order to
pull him down into arrogance: "I am Gabriel and I came to salute you, for
you have many virtues and are worthy."
"Look,
you must have made a mistake," the humble monk answered, without losing
his composure. "I am still living in sin, and for this reason I am not
worthy to see angels."
* * *
In modern
times, a novice told his elder: "I am especially prepared for spiritual
life, since my family has a history of mystical gifts."
The elder
said, "Apparently the only thing that your family has inherited is the
condemning pride of Adam. This is the legacy they have left you."
* * *
A certain
Christian man went to consult Abba Silouan.
"I
have a deadly enemy, Father," he confessed. "The evils which he has
brought upon me are innumerable. A short time ago he gained a large piece of my
land by deceit. He slanders me wherever he is and he speaks ill of both me and
my family. He has made my life unbearable. Now, finally, he is even plotting to
take my life. A few days ago, I learned that he attempted to poison me. But he
is not getting away with anything else. I have decided to hand him over to the
law."
"Do
as you like," Abba Silouan told him with indifference.
"Do
you not think, Father, that when he is punished, and especially severely, as he
should be, his soul will be saved?" asked the man, who was now beginning
to show concern for the welfare of his enemy's soul.
"Do
whatever gives you peace," the Saint continued to say, with the same air.
"I
am going straight to the judge, then," the Christian said, getting up to
leave.
"Do
not hurry off so," the Saint told him calmly. "Let us first pray for
God to bring success on your action."
He began
the "Our Father."
"And
do not forgive us our trespasses, as we do not forgive those who trespass
against us," he heard the Saint saying in a loud voice, as if making an
error in this verse.
"You
made an error, Abba. The Lord's Prayer is not said that way," the
Christian hastened to correct him.
"Nevertheless,
that is the way it is," the elder answered in all of his impassivity.
"Inasmuch as you have decided to hand over your brother to the court,
Silouan is offering no other prayer."
* * *
A young
monk went to Abba Theodoros of Fermi, to tell him his troubles.
"In
the world, Abba, I fasted a great deal, I held frequent vigils, I had tears and
contrition in my prayers, and I had in my heart a great passion for every act
pleasing to God. Here in the desert I have lost all of these things, and I fear
that I will not save my soul."
"That
which you did in the world, my son," the wise elder said to him, "was
nothing more than a work of vanity, for human praise. God did not accept it.
There in the world, the devil did not battle you, nor did he impede your
eagerness, since it brought you no profit. Now, however, that you are more
decisively enlisted in the army of our Christ, the devil, too, has armed
himself against you. You must learn that one psalm said with humility here in
the desert is more pleasing to the Lord than the thousands that you said there
with vanity; moreover, He receives more gratefully the one day of fasting that
you do here secretly than the many entire weeks of fasting that you did in
front of others in the world."
"I
do nothing now," insisted the youth. "I was better there."
"It
is arrogance," Abba Theodoros sternly told him, "that you still think
you were better in the world. The Pharisee in the parable of Jesus had the same
opinion of himself, and he was censured. Say, my child, that you have never
accomplished any good. It is in this way that the tax collector was justified.
The sinner, with a broken heart and humble thoughts, is more pleasing to God
than a proudly virtuous man."
The
elder's lesson, replete with practical experience, brought the young monk to
his senses.
As he was
saying farewell and leaving, he told him, "Thanks to you, Abba, I have
saved my soul."
* * *
A certain
elder was asked when one attains humility. "When he remembers his sins
continuously," he replied.
* * *
"As
the ground on which we walk has no fear of falling," a certain elder said,
"so is the humble man."
* * *
Abba
Agathon was asked how one manifests sincere love towards his neighbor, and that
blessed one, who had attained the queen of the virtues to a perfect degree,
answered: "Love is for me to find a leper and gladly to give him my body,
and, if possible, to take his."
* * *
"The
ancient Fathers," a certain elder said, "when their spiritual work
became known to others, saw this not as a virtue, but as a sin."
* * *
"If
you are troubled by evil spirits," another Father advises, "reveal
them in confession, so as to be released from them quickly. Just as a snake is
destroyed as soon as it comes out of its burrow, so an evil thought comes to
ruin as soon as it is openly expressed.
"A
brother was tormented by carnal desire. For many years, he labored alone, but
saw no profit to himself. Finally, in order to conquer his passion, he stood in
the middle of the church one Sunday after Liturgy and said loudly, so that all
the monks could hear: 'Pray for me, brothers, that God may have mercy on me,
because for fourteen whole years I have warred against the flesh.'
"Saying
these things, he felt immediately freed from the passion. What he could not do
with years of toil and asceticism, confession accomplished in one moment."
* * *
One
modern bishop is so accomplished in obedience that, before he celebrates the
Divine Liturgy, he venerates the relics of his elder, contained in the cap of
his episcopal walking stick, and asks his blessing to serve. His years of
obedience to his spiritual father, who was a simple monk with no priestly
orders, have never ceased, even with his elder's death.
* * *
Another
holy bishop in our day confided to a monk that, when his spiritual children
kiss his hand, he imagines himself under their feet.
* * *
A
present-day monk, lamenting the spiritual poverty of the modern age, said that
the greatest sin of all is that today we receive the words of the desert
Fathers as beautiful rhetoric, yet never heed or live them.
Translated by the V. Rev. Chrysostomos
Source: https://www.goarch.org/-/the-ancient-fathers-of-the-desert-section-7
