SECOND CONFERENCE OF ABBOT MOSES.
ON DISCRETION.
Complete Contents.
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Abbot Moses' introduction on the grace of
discretion.
AND so when we had enjoyed our morning sleep, when to our delight the
dawn of light again shone upon us, and we had begun to ask once more
for his promised talk, the blessed Moses thus began: As I see you
inflamed with such an eager desire, that I do not believe that that
very short interval of quiet which I wanted to subtract from our
spiritual conference and devote to bodily rest, has been of any use
for the repose of your bodies, on me too a greater anxiety presses
when I take note of your zeal. For I must give the greater care and
devotion in paying my debt, in proportion as I see that you ask for it
the more earnestly, according to that saying: "When thou sittest
to eat with a ruler consider diligently what is put before thee, and
put forth thine hand, knowing that thou oughtest to prepare such
things."[78] Wherefore as we are
going to speak of the excellent quality of discretion and the virtue
of it, on which subject our discourse of last night had entered at the
termination of our discussion, we think it desirable first to
establish its excellence by the opinions of the fathers, that when it
has been shown what our predecessors thought and said about it, then
we may bring forward some ancient and modern shipwrecks and mischances
of various people, who were destroyed and hopelessly ruined because
they paid but little attention to it, and then as well as we can we
must treat of its advantages and uses: after a discussion of which we
shall know better how we ought to seek after it and practise it, by
the consideration of the importance of its value and grace. For it is
no ordinary virtue nor one which can be freely gained by merely human
efforts, unless they are aided by the Divine blessing, for we read
that this is also reckoned among the noblest gifts of the Spirit by
the Apostle: "To one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom,
to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit, to another faith
by the same Spirit, to another the gift of healing by the same
Spirit," and shortly after, "to another the discerning of
spirits." Then after the complete catalogue of spiritual gifts
he subjoins: "But all these worketh one and the selfsame Spirit,
dividing to every man severally as He will."[79] You see then that the gift of
discretion is no earthly thing and no slight matter, but the greatest
prize of divine grace. And unless a monk has pursued it with all
zeal, and secured a power of discerning with unerring judgment the
spirits that rise up in him, he is sure to go wrong, as if in the
darkness of night and dense blackness, and not merely to fall down
dangerous pits and precipices, but also to make frequent mistakes in
matters that are plain and straightforward.
What discretion alone can give a monk; and a
discourse of the blessed Antony on this subject.
AND so I remember that while I was still a boy, in the region of
Thebaid, where the blessed Antony lived,[80] the elders came to him to inquire
about perfection: and though the conference lasted from evening till
morning, the greatest part of the night was taken up with this
question. For it was discussed at great length what virtue or
observance could preserve a monk always unharmed by the snares and
deceits of the devil, and carry him forward on a sure and right path,
and with firm step to the heights of perfection. And when each one
gave his opinion according to the bent of his own mind, and some made
it consist in zeal in fasting and vigils, because a soul that has been
brought low by these, and so obtained purity of heart and body will be
the more easily united to God, others in despising all things, as, if
the mind were utterly deprived of them, it would come the more freely
to God, as if henceforth there were no snares to entangle it: others
thought that withdrawal from the world was the thing needful, i.e.,
solitude and the secrecy of the hermit's life; living in which a man
may more readily commune with God, and cling more especially to Him;
others laid down that the duties of charity, i.e., of kindness should
be practised, because the Lord in the gospel promised more especially
to give the kingdom to these; when He said "Come ye blessed of My
Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of
the world. For I was an hungred and ye gave Me to eat, I was thirsty
and ye gave Me to drink, etc.:"[81] and when in this fashion they declared
that by means of different virtues a more certain approach to God
could be secured, and the greater part of the night had been spent in
this discussion, then at last the blessed Antony spoke and said: All
these things which you have mentioned are indeed needful, and helpful
to those who are thirsting for God, and desirous to approach Him. But
countless accidents and the experience of many people will not allow
us to make the most important of gifts consist in them. For often
when men are most strict in fasting or in vigils, and nobly withdraw
into solitude, and aim at depriving themselves of all their goods so
absolutely that they do not suffer even a day's allowance of food or a
single penny to remain to them, and when they fulfil all the duties of
kindness with the utmost devotion, yet still we have seen them
suddenly deceived, so that they could not bring the work they had
entered upon to a suitable close, but brought their exalted fervour
and praiseworthy manner of life to a terrible end. Wherefore we shall
be able clearly to recognize what it is which mainly leads to God, if
we trace out with greater care the reason of their downfall and
deception. For when the works of the above mentioned virtues were
abounding in them, discretion alone was wanting, and allowed them not
to continue even to the end. Nor can any other reason for their
falling off be discovered except that as they were not sufficiently
instructed by their elders they could not obtain judgment and
discretion, which passing by excess on either side, teaches a monk
always to walk along the royal road, and does not suffer him to be
puffed up on the right hand of virtue, i.e., from excess of zeal to
transgress the bounds of due moderation in foolish presumption, nor
allows him to be enamoured of slackness and turn aside to the vices on
the left hand, i.e., under pretext of controlling the body, to grow
slack with the opposite spirit of lukewarmness. For this is
discretion, which is termed in the gospel the "eye,"
"and light of the body," according to the Saviour's saying:
"The light of thy body is thine eye: but if thine eye be single,
thy whole body will be full of light, but if thine eye be evil, thy
whole body will be full of darkness:"[82] because as it discerns all the
thoughts and actions of men, it sees and overlooks all things which
should be done. But if in any man this is "evil," i.e., not
fortified by sound judgment and knowledge, or deceived by some error
and presumption, it will make our whole body "full of
darkness," i.e., it will darken all our mental vision and our
actions, as they will be involved in the darkness of vices and the
gloom of disturbances. For, says He, "if the light which is in
thee be darkness, how great will that darkness be!"[83] For no one can doubt that when the
judgment of our heart goes wrong, and is overwhelmed by the night of
ignorance, our thoughts and deeds, which are the result of
deliberation and discretion, must be involved in the darkness of still
greater sins.
Of the error of Saul and of Ahab, by which they
were deceived through lack of discretion.
LASTLY, the man who in the judgment of God was the first to be worthy
of the kingdom of His people Israel, because he was lacking in this
"eye" of discretion, was, as if his whole body were full of
darkness, actually cast down from the kingdom while, being deceived by
the darkness of this "light," and in error, he imagined that
his own offerings were more acceptable to God than obedience to the
command of Samuel, and met with an occasion of falling in that very
matter in which he had hoped to propitiate the Divine Majesty.[84] And ignorance, I say, of this
discretion led Ahab the king of Israel after a triumph and splendid
victory which had been granted to him by the favour of God to fancy
that mercy on his part was better than the stern execution of the
divine command, and, as it seemed to him, a cruel rule: and moved by
this consideration, while he desired to temper a bloody victory with
mercy, he was on account of his indiscriminating clemency rendered
full of darkness in his whole body, and condemned irreversibly to
death.[85]
What is said of the value of discretion in Holy
Scripture.
SUCH is discretion, which is not only the "light of the
body," but also called the sun by the Apostle, as it said
"Let not the sun go down upon your wrath."[86] It is also called the guidance of our
life: as it said "Those who have no guidance, fall like
leaves."[87] It is most truly
named counsel, without which the authority of Scripture allows us to
do nothing, so that we are not even permitted to take that spiritual
"wine which maketh glad the heart of man"[88] with out its regulating control: as it
is said "Do everything with counsel, drink thy wine with
counsel,"[89] and again "like
a city that has its walls destroyed and is not fenced in, so is a man
who does anything without counsel."[90] And how injurious the absence of this
is to a monk, the illustration and figure in the passage quoted shows,
by comparing it to a city that is destroyed and without walls. Herein
lies wisdom, herein lies intelligence and understanding without which
our inward house cannot be built, nor can spiritual riches be gathered
together, as it is said: "A house is built with wisdom, and again
it is set up with intelligence. With understanding the storehouses
are filled with all precious riches and good things."[91] This I say is "solid food,"
which can only be taken by those who are full grown and strong, as it
is said: "But solid food is for full grown men, who by reason of
use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil."[92] And it is shown to be useful and
necessary for us, only in so far as it is in accordance with the word
of God and its powers, as is said "For the word of God is quick
and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and reaching even
to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow,
and a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart:"[93] and by this it is clearly shown that
no virtue can possibly be perfectly acquired or continue without the
grace of discretion. And so by the judgment of the blessed Antony as
well as of all others it has been laid down that it is discretion
which leads a fearless monk by fixed stages to God, and preserves the
virtues mentioned above continually intact, by means of which one may
ascend with less weariness to the extreme summit of perfection, and
without which even those who toil most willingly cannot reach the
heights of perfection. For discretion is the mother of all virtues,
as well as their guardian and regulator.
Of the death of the old man Heron.
AND to support this judgment delivered of old by the blessed Antony
and the other fathers by a modern instance, as we promised to do,
remember what you lately saw happen before your very eyes, I mean, how
the old man Heron,[94] only a very few
days ago was cast down by an illusion of the devil from the heights to
the depths, a man whom we remember to have lived for fifty years in
this desert and to have preserved a strict continence with especial
severity, and who aimed at the secrecy of solitude with marvellous
fervour beyond all those who dwell here. By what device then or by
what method was he deluded by the deceiver after so many labours, and
falling by a most grievous downfall struck with profound grief all
those who live in this desert? Was it not because, having too little
of the virtue of discretion he preferred to be guided by his own
judgment rather than to obey the counsels and conference of the
brethren and the regulations of the elders? Since he ever practised
incessant abstinence and fasting with such severity, and persisted in
the secrecy of solitude and a monastic cell so constantly that not
even the observance of the Easter festival could ever persuade him to
join in the feast with the brethren: when in accordance with the
annual observance, all the brethren remained in the church and he
alone would not join them for fear lest he might seem to relax in some
degree from his purpose by taking only a little pulse. And deceived
by this presumption he received with the utmost reverence an angel of
Satan as an angel of light and with blind slavishness obeyed his
commands and cast himself down a well, so deep that the eye could not
pierce its depths, nothing doubting of the promise of the angel who
had assured him that the merits of his virtues and labours were such
that he could not possibly run any risk. And that he might prove the
truth of this most certainly by experimenting on his own safety, in
the dead of night he was deluded enough to cast himself into the above
mentioned well, to prove indeed the great merit of his virtue if he
should come out thence unhurt. And when by great efforts on the part
of the brethren he had been got out already almost dead, on the third
day afterward he expired, and what was still worse, persisted in his
obstinate delusion so that not even the experience of his death could
persuade him that he had been deceived by the craft of devils.
Wherefore in spite of the merits of his great labours and the number
of years which he had spent in the desert those who with compassion
and the greatest kindness pitied his end, could hardly obtain from
Abbot Paphnutius[95] that he should not
be reckoned among suicides, and be deemed unworthy of the memorial and
oblation for those at rest.[96]
Of the destruction of two brethren for lack of
discretion.
WHAT shall I say of those two brethren who lived beyond that desert of
the Thebaid where once the blessed Antony dwelt, and, not being
sufficiently influenced by careful discrimination, when they were
going through the vast and extended waste determined not to take any
food with them, except such as the Lord Himself might provide for
them. And when as they wandered through the deserts and were already
fainting from hunger they were spied at a distance by the Mazices[97] (a race which is even more savage and
ferocious than almost all wild tribes, for they are not driven to shed
blood, as other tribes are, from desire of spoil but from simple
ferocity of mind), and when these acting contrary to their natural
ferocity, met them with bread, one of the two as discretion came to
his aid, received it with delight and thankfulness as if it were
offered to him by the Lord, thinking that the food had been divinely
provided for him, and that it was God's doing that those who always
delighted in bloodshed had offered the staff of life to men who were
already fainting and dying; but the other refused the food because it
was offered to him by men and died of starvation. And though this
sprang in the first instance from a persuasion that was blameworthy
yet one of them by the help of discretion got the better of the idea
which he had rashly and carelessly conceived, but the other persisting
in his obstinate folly, and being utterly lacking in discretion,
brought upon himself that death which the Lord would have averted, as
he would not believe that it was owing to a Divine impulse that the
fierce barbarians forgot their natural ferocity and offered them bread
instead of a sword.
Of an illusion into which another fell for lack of
discretion.
WHY also should I speak of one (whose name we had rather not mention
as he is still alive), who for a long while received a devil in the
brightness of an angelic form, and was often deceived by countless
revelations from him and believed that he was a messenger of
righteousness: for when these were granted, every night he provided a
light in his cell without the need of any lamp. At last he was
ordered by the devil to offer up to God his own son who was living
with him in the monastery, in order that his merits might by this
sacrifice be made equal to those of the patriarch Abraham. And he was
so far seduced by his persuasion that he would really have committed
the murder unless his son had seen him getting ready the knife and
sharpening it with unusual care, and looking for the chains with which
he meant to tie him up for the sacrifice when he was going to offer
him up; and had fled away in terror with a presentiment of the coming
crime.
Of the fall and deception of a monk of
Mesopotamia.
IT is a long business too to tell the story of the deception of that
monk of Mesopotamia, who observed an abstinence that could be imitated
by but few in that country, which he had practised for many years
concealed in his cell, and at last was so deceived by revelations and
dreams that came from the devil that after so many labours and good
deeds, in which he had surpassed all those who dwelt in the same
parts, he actually relapsed miserably into Judaism and circumcision of
the flesh. For when the devil by accustoming him to visions through
the wish to entice him to believe a falsehood in the end, had like a
messenger of truth revealed to him for a long while what was perfectly
true, at length he showed him Christian folk together with the leaders
of our religion and creed; viz., Apostles and Martyrs, in darkness and
filth, and foul and disfigured with all squalor, and on the other hand
the Jewish people with Moses, the patriarchs and prophets, dancing
with all joy and shining with dazzling light; and so persuaded him
that if he wanted to share their reward and bliss, he must at once
submit to circumcision. And so none of these would have been so
miserably deceived, if they had endeavoured to obtain a power of
discretion. Thus the mischances and trials of many show how dangerous
it is to be without the grace of discretion.
A question about the acquirement of true
discretion.
TO this Germanus: It has been fully and completely shown both by
recent instances and by the decisions of the ancients how discretion
is in some sense the fountain head and the root of all virtues. We
want then to learn how it ought to be gained, or how we can tell
whether it is genuine and from God, or whether it is spurious and from
the devil: so that (to use the figure of that gospel parable which you
discussed on a former occasion, in which we are bidden to become good
money changers[98]) we may be able to
see the figure of the true king stamped on the coin and to detect what
is not stamped on coin that is current, and that, as you said in
yesterday's talk using an ordinary expression, we may reject it as
counterfeit, under the teaching of that skill which you treated of
with sufficient fulness and detail, and showed ought to belong to the
man who is spiritually a good money changer of the gospel. For of
what good will it be to have recognized the value of that virtue and
grace if we do not know how to seek for it and to gain it?
The answer how true discretion may be gained.
THEN MOSES: True discretion, said he, is only secured by true
humility. And of this humility the first proof is given by reserving
everything (not only what you do but also what you think), for the
scrutiny of the elders, so as not to trust at all in your own judgment
but to acquiesce in their decisions in all points, and to acknowledge
what ought to be considered good or bad by their traditions.[99] And this habit will not only teach a
young man to walk in the right path through the true way of
discretion, but will also keep him unhurt by all the crafts and
deceits of the enemy. For a man cannot possibly be deceived, who
lives not by his own judgment but according to the example of the
elders, nor will our crafty foe be able to abuse the ignorance of one
who is not accustomed from false modesty to conceal all the thoughts
which rise in his heart, but either checks them or suffers them to
remain, in accordance with the ripened judgment of the elders. For a
wrong thought is enfeebled at the moment that it is discovered: and
even before the sentence of discretion has been given, the foul
serpent is by the power of confession dragged out, so to speak, from
his dark under-ground cavern, and in some sense shown up and sent away
in disgrace. For evil thoughts will hold sway in us just so long as
they are hidden in the heart: and that you may gather still more
effectually the power of this judgment I will tell you what Abbot
Serapion did,[100] and what he used
often to tell to the younger brethren for their edification.
The words of Abbot Serapion on the decline of
thoughts that are exposed to others, and also on the danger of self-
confidence.
WHILE, said he, I was still a lad, and stopping with Abbot Theonas,[101] this habit was forced upon me by the
assaults of the enemy, that after I had supped with the old man at the
ninth hour, I used every day secretly to hide a biscuit in my dress,
which I would eat on the sly later on without his knowing it. And
though I was constantly guilty of the theft with the consent of my
will, and the want of restraint that springs from desire that has
grown inveterate, yet when my unlawful desire was gratified I would
come to myself and torment myself over the theft committed in a way
that overbalanced the pleasure I had enjoyed in the eating. And when
I was forced not without grief of heart to fulfil day after day this
most heavy task required of me, so to speak, by Pharaoh's taskmasters,
instead of bricks, and could not escape from this cruel tyranny, and
yet was ashamed to disclose the secret theft to the old man, it
chanced by the will of God that I was delivered from the yoke of this
voluntary captivity, when certain brethren had sought the old man's
cell with the object of being instructed by him. And when after
supper the spiritual conference had begun to be held, and the old man
in answer to the questions which they had propounded was speaking
about the sin of gluttony and the dominion of secret thoughts, and
showing their nature and the awful power which they have so long as
they are kept secret, I was overcome by the power of the discourse and
was conscience stricken and terrified, as I thought that these things
were mentioned by him because the Lord had revealed to the old man my
bosom secrets; and first I was moved to secret sighs, and then my
heart's compunction increased and I openly burst into sobs and tears,
and produced from the folds of my dress which shared my theft and
received it, the biscuit which I had carried off in my bad habit to
eat on the sly; and I laid it in the midst and lying on the ground and
begging for forgiveness confessed how I used to eat one every day in
secret, and with copious tears implored them to intreat the Lord to
free me from this dreadful slavery. Then the old man: "Have
faith, my child," said he, "Without any words of mine, your
confession frees you from this slavery. For you have today triumphed
over your victorious adversary, by laying him low by your confession
in a manner which more than makes up for the way in which you were
overthrown by him through your former silence, as when, never
confuting him with your own answer or that of another, you had allowed
him to lord it over you, according to that saying of Solomon's:
`Because sentence is not speedily pronounced against the evil, the
heart of the children of men is full within them to do evil:'[102] and therefore after this exposure of
him that evil spirit will no longer be able to vex you, nor will that
foul serpent henceforth make his lurking place in you, as he has been
dragged out into light from the darkness by your life-giving
confession." The old man had not finished speaking when lo! a
burning lamp proceeding from the folds of my dress filled the cell
with a sulphureous smell so that the pungency of the odour scarcely
allowed us to stay there: and the old man resuming his admonition said
Lo! the Lord has visibly confirmed to you the truth of my words, so
that you can see with your eyes how he who was the author of His
Passion has been driven out from your heart by your life-giving
confession, and know that the enemy who has been exposed will
certainly no longer find a home in you, as his expulsion is made
manifest. And so, as the old man declared, said he, the sway of that
diabolical tyranny over me has been destroyed by the power of this
confession and stilled for ever so that the enemy has never even tried
to force upon me any more the recollection of this desire, nor have I
ever felt myself seized with the passion of that furtive longing. And
this meaning we see is neatly expressed in a figure in Ecclesiastes.
"If" says he "a serpent bite without hissing there is
no sufficiency for the charmer,"[103] showing that the bite of a serpent
in silence is dangerous, i.e., if a suggestion or thought springing
from the devil is not by means of confession shown to some charmer, I
mean some spiritually minded person who knows how to heal the wound at
once by charms from the Scripture, and to extract the deadly poison of
the serpent from the heart, it will be impossible to help the sufferer
who is already in danger and must soon die. In this way therefore we
shall easily arrive at the knowledge of true discretion, so as by
following the steps of the Elders never to do anything novel nor to
decide anything by or on our own responsibility, but to walk in all
things as we are taught by their tradition and upright life. And the
man who is strengthened by this system will not only arrive at the
perfect method of discretion, but also will remain perfectly safe from
all the wiles of the enemy: for by no other fault does the devil drag
down a monk so precipitately and lead him away to death, as when he
persuades him to despise the counsel of the Elders and to rely on his
own opinion and judgment: for if all the arts and contrivances
discovered by man's ingenuity and those which are only useful for the
conveniences of this temporary life, though they can be felt with the
hand and seen with the eye, can yet not be understood by anyone,
without lessons from a teacher, how foolish it is to fancy that there
is no need of an instructor in this one alone which is invisible and
secret and can only be seen by the purest heart, a mistake in which
brings about no mere temporary loss or one that can easily be
repaired, but the destruction of the soul and everlasting death: for
it is concerned with a daily and nightly conflict against no visible
foes, but invisible and cruel ones, and a spiritual combat not against
one or two only, but against countless hosts, failure in which is the
more dangerous to all, in proportion as the foe is the fiercer and the
attack the more secret. And therefore we should always follow the
footsteps of the Elders with the utmost care, and bring to them
everything which rises in our hearts, by removing the veil of
shame.
A confession of the modesty which made us ashamed
to reveal our thoughts to the elders.
GERMANUS: The ground of that hurtful modesty, through which we
endeavour to hide bad thoughts, is especially owing to this reason;
viz., that we have heard of a superior of the Elders in the region of
Syria, as it was believed, who, when one of the brethren had laid bare
his thoughts to him in a genuine confession, was afterwards extremely
indignant and severely chid him for them. Whence it results that while
we press them upon ourselves and are ashamed to make them known to the
Elders, we cannot obtain the remedies that would heal them.
The answer concerning the trampling down of shame,
and the danger of one without contrition.
MOSES: Just as all young men are not alike in fervour of spirit nor
equally instructed in learning and good morals, so too we cannot find
that all old men are equally perfect and excellent. For the true
riches of old men are not to be measured by grey hairs but by their
diligence in youth and the rewards of their past labours.
"For," says one, "the things that thou hast not
gathered in thy youth, how shall thou find them in thy old age?"
"For venerable old age is not that of long time, nor counted by
the number of years: but the understanding of a man is grey hairs, and
a spotless life is old age."[104]
And therefore we are not to follow in the steps or embrace the
traditions and advice of every old man whose head is covered with grey
hairs, and whose age is his sole claim to respect, but only of those
whom we find to have distinguished themselves in youth in an approved
and praiseworthy manner, and to have been trained up not on
self-assurance but on the traditions of the Elders. For there are
some, and unhappily they form the majority, who pass their old age in
a lukewarmness which they contracted in youth, and in sloth, and so
obtain authority not from the ripeness of their character but simply
from the number of their years. Against whom that reproof of the Lord
is specially aimed by the prophet: "Strangers have devoured his
strength and he knew it not: yea, grey hairs also are spread about
upon him, and he is ignorant of it."[105] These men, I say, are not pointed
out as examples to youth from the uprightness of their lives, nor from
the strictness of their profession, which would be worthy of praise
and imitation, but simply from the number of their years; and so the
subtle enemy uses their grey hairs to deceive the younger men, by a
wrongful appeal to their authority, and endeavours in his cunning
craftiness to upset and deceive by their example those who might have
been urged into the way of perfection by their advice or that of
others; and drags them down by means of their teaching and practice
either into a baneful indifference, or into deadly despair. And as I
want to give you an instance of this, I will tell you a fact which may
supply us with some wholesome teaching, without giving the name of the
actor, lest we might be guilty of something of the same kind as the
man who published abroad the sins of the brother which had been
disclosed to him. When this one, who was not the laziest of young
men, had gone to an old man, whom we know very well, for the sake of
the profit and health of his soul, and had candidly confessed that he
was troubled by carnal appetites and the spirit of fornication,
fancying that he would receive from the old man's words consolation
for his efforts, and a cure for the wounds inflicted on him, the old
man attacked him with the bitterest reproaches, and called him a
miserable and disgraceful creature, and unworthy of the name of monk,
while he could be affected by a sin and lust of this character, and
instead of helping him so injured him by his reproaches that he
dismissed him from his cell in a state of hopeless despair and deadly
despondency. And when he, oppressed with such a sorrow, was plunged
in deep thought, no longer how to cure his passion, but how to gratify
his lust, the Abbot Apollos,[106] the
most skilful of the Elders, met him, and seeing by his looks and
gloominess his trouble and the violence of the assault which he was
secretly revolving in his heart, asked him the reason of this upset;
and when he could not possibly answer the old man's gentle inquiry,
the latter perceived more and more clearly that it was not without
reason that he wanted to hide in silence the cause of a gloom so deep
that he could not conceal it by his looks, and so began to ask him
still more earnestly the reasons for his hidden grief. And by this he
was forced to confess that he was on his way to a village to take a
wife, and leave the monastery and return to the world, since, as the
old man had told him, he could not be a monk, if he was unable to
control the desires of the flesh and to cure his passion. And then
the old man smoothed him down with kindly consolation, and told him
that he himself was daily tried by the same pricks of desire and lust,
and that therefore he ought not to give way to despair, nor be
surprised at the violence of the attack of which he would get the
better not so much by zealous efforts, as by the mercy and grace of
the Lord; and he begged him to put off his intention just for one day,
and having implored him to return to his cell, went as fast as he
could to the monastery of the above mentioned old man--and when he had
drawn near to him he stretched forth his hands and prayed with tears,
and said "O Lord, who alone art the righteous judge and unseen
Physician of secret strength and human weakness, turn the assault from
the young man upon the old one, that he may learn to condescend to the
weakness of sufferers, and to sympathize even in old age with the
frailties of youth." And when he had ended his prayer with
tears, he sees a filthy Ethiopian standing over against his cell and
aiming fiery darts at him, with which he was straightway wounded, and
came out of his cell and ran about hither and thither like a lunatic
or a drunken man, and going in and out could no longer restrain
himself in it, but began to hurry off in the same direction in which
the young man had gone. And when Abbot Apollos saw him like a madman
driven wild by the furies, he knew that the fiery dart of the devil
which he had seen, had been fixed in his heart, and had by its
intolerable heat wrought in him this mental aberration and confusion
of the understanding; and so he came up to him and asked "Whither
are you hurrying, or what has made you forget the gravity of years and
disturbed you in this childish way, and made you hurry about so
rapidly"? And when he owing to his guilty conscience and
confused by this disgraceful excitement fancied that the lust of his
heart was discovered, and, as the secrets of his heart were known to
the old man, did not venture to return any answer to his inquiries,
"Return," said he, "to your cell, and at last recognize
the fact that till now you have been ignored or despised by the devil,
and not counted in the number of those with whom he is daily roused to
fight and struggle against their efforts and earnestness,--you who
could not--I will not say ward off, but not even postpone for one day,
a single dart of his aimed at you after so many years spent in this
profession of yours. And with this the Lord has suffered you to be
wounded that you may at least learn in your old age to sympathize with
infirmities to which you are a stranger, and may know from your own
case and experience how to condescend to the frailties of the young,
though when you received a young man troubled by an attack from the
devil, you did not encourage him with any consolation, but gave him up
in dejection and destructive despair into the hands of the enemy, to
be, as far as you were concerned, miserably destroyed by him. But the
enemy would certainly never have attacked him with so fierce an
onslaught, with which he has up till now scorned to attack you, unless
in his jealousy at the progress he was to make, he had endeavoured to
get the better of that virtue which he saw lay in his disposition, and
to destroy it with his fiery darts, as he knew without the shadow of a
doubt that he was the stronger, since he deemed it worth his while to
attack him with such vehemence. And so learn from your own experience
to sympathize with those in trouble, and never to terrify with
destructive despair those who are in danger, nor harden them with
severe speeches, but rather restore them with gentle and kindly
consolations, and as the wise Solomon says, "Spare not to deliver
those who are led forth to death, and to redeem those who are to be
slain,"[107] and after the
example of our Saviour, break not the bruised reed, nor quench the
smoking flax,[108] and ask of the Lord
that grace, by means of which you yourself may faithfully learn both
in deed and power to sing: "the Lord hath given me a learned
tongue that I should know how to uphold by word him that is
weary:"[109] for no one could
bear the devices of the enemy, or extinguish or repress those carnal
fires which burn with a sort of natural flame, unless God's grace
assisted our weakness, or protected and supported it. And therefore,
as the reason for this salutary incident is over, by which the Lord
meant to set that young man free from dangerous desires and to teach
you something of the violence of their attack, and of the feeling of
compassion, let us together implore Him in prayer, that He may be
pleased to remove that scourge, which the Lord thought good to lay
upon you for your good (for "He maketh sorry and cureth: he
striketh and his hands heal. He humbleth and exalteth, he killeth and
maketh alive: he bringeth down to the grave and bringeth up")[110], and may extinguish with the
abundant dew of His Spirit the fiery darts of the devil, which at my
desire He allowed to wound you. And although the Lord removed this
temptation at a single prayer of the old man with the same speed with
which He had suffered it to come upon him, yet He showed by a clear
proof that a man's faults when laid bare were not merely not to be
scolded, but that the grief of one in trouble ought not to be lightly
despised. And therefore never let the clumsiness or shallowness of
one old man or of a few deter you and keep you back from that
life-giving way, of which we spoke earlier, or from the tradition of
the Elders, if our crafty enemy makes a wrongful use of their grey
hairs in order to deceive younger men: but without any cloak of shame
everything should be disclosed to the Elders, and remedies for wounds
be faithfully received from them together with examples of life and
conversation: from which we shall find like help and the same sort of
result, if we try to do nothing at all on our own responsibility and
judgment.
Of the call of Samuel.
LASTLY SO far has this opinion been shown to be pleasing to God that
we see that this system not without reason finds a place in holy
Scripture, so that the Lord would not of Himself instruct by the
method of a Divine colloquy the lad Samuel, when chosen for judgment,
but suffered him to run once or twice to the old man, and willed that
one whom He was calling to converse with Him should be taught even by
one who had offended God, as he was an old man, and preferred that he
whom He had deemed worthy to be called by Him should be trained by the
Elder in order to test the humility of him who was called to a Divine
office, and to set an example to the younger men by the manner of his
subjection.
Of the call of the Apostle Paul.
AND when Christ in His own Person called and addressed Paul, although
He might have opened out to him at once the way of perfection, yet He
chose rather to direct him to Ananias and commanded him to learn the
way of truth from him, saying: "Arise and go into the city and
there it shall be told thee what thou oughtest to do."[111] So He sends him to an older man,
and thinks good to have him instructed by his teaching rather than His
own, lest what might have been rightly done in the case of Paul might
set a bad example of self-sufficiency, if each one were to persuade
himself that he also ought in like manner to be trained by the
government and teaching of God alone rather than by the instruction of
the Elders. And this self-sufficiency the apostle himself teaches,
not only by his letters but by his acts and deeds, ought to be shunned
with all possible care, as he says that he went up to Jerusalem solely
for this reason; viz., to communicate in a private and informal
conference with his co-apostles and those who were before him that
Gospel which he preached to the Gentiles, the grace of the Holy Spirit
accompanying him with powerful signs and wonders: as he says "And
I communicated with them the Gospel which I preach among the Gentiles
lest perhaps I had run or should run in vain."[112] Who then is so self-sufficient and
blind as to dare to trust in his own judgment and discretion when the
chosen vessel confesses that he had need of conference with his fellow
apostles. Whence we clearly see that the Lord does not Himself show
the way of perfection to anyone who having the opportunity of learning
despises the teaching and training of the Elders, paying no heed to
that saying which ought most carefully to be observed: "Ask thy
father and he will show it to thee: thine Elders and they will tell
thee."[113]
How to seek for discretion.
WE ought then with all our might to strive for the virtue of
discretion by the power of humility, as it will keep us uninjured by
either extreme, for there is an old saying akrothtes
isothtes, i.e., extremes meet. For excess of fasting and
gluttony come to the same thing, and an unlimited continuance of
vigils is equally injurious to a monk as the torpor of a deep sleep:
for when a man is weakened by excessive abstinence he is sure to
return to that condition in which a man is kept through carelessness
and negligence, so that we have often seen those who could not be
deceived by gluttony, destroyed by excessive fasting and by reason of
weakness liable to that passion which they had before overcome.
Unreasonable vigils and nightly watchings have also been the ruin of
some whom sleep could not get the better of: wherefore as the apostle
says "with the arms of righteousness on the right hand and on the
left,"[114] we pass on with due
moderation, and walk between the two extremes, under the guidance of
discretion, that we may not consent to be led away from the path of
continence marked out for us, nor fall by undue carelessness into the
pleasures of the palate and belly.
On excessive fasts and vigils.
FOR I remember that I had so often resisted the desire for food, that
having abstained from taking any for two or three days, my mind was
not troubled even by the recollection of any eatables and also that
sleep was by the assaults of the devil so far removed from my eyes,
that for several days and nights I used to pray the Lord to grant a
little sleep to my eyes; and then I felt that I was in greater peril
from the want of food and sleep than from struggling against sloth and
gluttony. And so as we ought to be careful not to fall into dangerous
effeminacy through desire for bodily gratification, nor indulge
ourselves with eating before the right time nor take too much, so also
we ought to refresh ourselves with food and sleep at the proper time
even if we dislike it. For the struggle in each case is caused by the
devices of the enemy; and excessive abstinence is still more injurious
to us than careless satiety: for from this latter the intervention of
a healthy compunction will raise us to the right measure of
strictness, and not from the former.
A question on the right measure of abstinence and
refreshment.
GERMANUS: What then is the measure of abstinence by keeping which with
even balance we shall succeed in passing unharmed between the two
extremes?
Of the best plan for our daily food.
MOSES: On this matter we are aware that there have been frequent
discussions among our Elders. For in discussing the abstinence of
some who supported their lives continually on nothing but beans or
only on vegetables and fruits, they proposed to all of them to partake
of bread alone, the right measure of which they fixed at two biscuits,
so small that they assuredly scarcely weighed a pound.
An objection on the ease of that abstinence in
which a man is sustained by two biscuits.
AND this we gladly embraced, and answered that we should scarcely
consider this limit as abstinence, as we could not possibly reach it
entirely.
The answer concerning the value and measure of
well-proved abstinence.
MOSES: If you want to test the force of this rule, keep to this limit
continually, never departing from it by taking any cooked food even on
Sunday or Saturday, or on the occasions of the arrival of any of the
brethren; for the flesh, refreshed by these exceptions, is able not
only to support itself through the rest of the week on a smaller
quantity, but can also postpone all refreshment without difficulty, as
it is sustained by the addition of that food which it has taken beyond
the limit; while the man who has always been satisfied with the full
amount of the above-mentioned measure will never be able to do this,
nor to put off breaking his fast till the morrow. For I remember that
our Elders (and I recollect that we ourselves also often had the same
experience) found it so hard and difficult to practise this
abstinence, and observed the rule laid down with such pain and hunger
that it was almost against their will and with tears and lamentation
that they set this limit to their meals.
What is the usual limit both of abstinence and of
partaking food.
BUT this is the usual limit of abstinence; viz., for everyone to allow
himself food according to the requirements of his strength or bodily
frame or age, in such quantity as is required for the support of the
flesh, and not for the satisfactory feeling of repletion. For on both
sides a man will suffer the greatest injury, if having no fixed rule
at one time he pinches his stomach with meagre food and fasts, and at
another stuffs it by over-eating himself; for as the mind which is
enfeebled for lack of food loses vigour in praying, while it is worn
out with excessive weakness of the flesh and forced to doze, so again
when weighed down with over-eating it cannot pour forth to God pure
and free prayers: nor will it succeed in preserving uninterruptedly
the purity of its chastity, while even on those days on which it seems
to chastise the flesh with severer abstinence, it feeds the fire of
carnal desire with the fuel of the food that it has already taken.
Quemadmodum abundantia umorum genitalium
castigetur.[115]
NAM quod semel per escarum abundantian concretus fuerit in medullis,
necesse est egeri atque ab ipsa naturæ lege propelli, quæ
exuberantiam cujuslibet umoris superflui velut noxiam sibi atque
contrariam in semet ipsa residere non patitur ideoque rationabili
semper et æquali est corpus nostrum parsimonia castigandum, ut si
naturali hac necessitate commorantes in carne omnimodis carere non
possumus, saltim rarius nos et non amplius quamtrina vice ista
conluvione respersos totius anni cursus inveniat, quod tamen sine ullo
pruritu quietus egerat sopor, non fallax imago index occultæ
voluptatis eliciat.
Wherefore this is the moderate and even allowance and measure of
abstinence, of which we spoke, which has the approval also of the
judgment of the fathers; viz., that daily hunger should go hand in
hand with our daily meals, preserving both body and soul in one and
the same condition, and not allowing the mind either to faint through
weariness from fasting, nor to be oppressed by over-eating, for it
ends in such a sparing diet that sometimes a man neither notices nor
remembers in the evening that he has broken his fast.
Of the difficulty of uniformity in eating; and of
the gluttony of brother Benjamin.
AND so far is this not done without difficulty, that those who know
nothing of perfect discretion would rather prolong their fasts for two
days, and reserve for tomorrow what they should have eaten today, so
that when they come to partake of food they may enjoy as much as they
can desire. And you know that lastly your fellow citizen Benjamin
most obstinately stuck to this: as he would not every day partake of
his two biscuits, nor, continually take his meagre fare with uniform
self-discipline, but preferred always to continue his fasts for two
days that when he came to eat he might fill his greedy stomach with a
double portion, and by eating four biscuits enjoy a comfortable sense
of repletion, and manage to fill his belly by means of a two days'
fast. And you doubtless remember what sort of an end there was to the
life of this man who obstinately and pertinaciously relied on his own
judgment rather than on the traditions of the Elders, for he forsook
the desert and returned back to the vain philosophy of this world and
earthly vanities, and so confirmed the above mentioned opinion of the
Elders by the example of his downfall, and by his destruction teaches
a lesson that no one who trusts in his own opinion and judgment can
possibly climb the heights of perfection, nor fail to be deceived by
the dangerous wiles of the devil.
A question how is it possible always to observe one
and the same measure.
GERMANUS: How then can we observe this measure without ever breaking
it? for sometimes at the ninth hour when the Station fast[116] is over, brethren come to see us and
then we must either for their sakes add something to our fixed and
customary portion, or certainly fail in that courtesy which we are
told to show to everybody.
The answer how we should not exceed the proper
measure of food.
MOSES: Both duties must be observed in the same way and with equal
care: for we ought most scrupulously to preserve the proper allowance
of food for the sake of our abstinence, and in like manner out of
charity to show courtesy and encouragement to any of the brethren who
may arrive; because it is absolutely ridiculous when you offer food to
a brother, nay, to Christ Himself, not to partake of it with him, but
to make yourself a stranger to his repast. And so we shall keep clear
of guilt on either hand if we observe this plan; viz., at the ninth
hour to partake of one of the two biscuits which form our proper
canonical allowance, and to keep back the other to the evening, in
expectation of something like this, that if any of the brethren comes
to see us we may partake of it with him, and so add nothing to our own
customary allowance: and by this arrangement the arrival of our
brother which ought to be a pleasure to us will cause us no
inconvenience: since we shall show him the civilities which courtesy
requires in such a way as to relax nothing of the strictness of our
abstinence. But if no one should come, we may freely take this last
biscuit as belonging to us according to our canonical rule, and by
this frugality of ours as a single biscuit was taken at the ninth
hour, our stomach will not be overloaded at eventide, a thing which is
often the case with those who under the idea that they are observing a
stricter abstinence put off all their repast till evening; for the
fact that we have but recently taken food hinders our intellect from
being bright and keen both in our evening and in our nocturnal
prayers, and so at the ninth hour a convenient and suitable time has
been allowed for food, in which a monk can refresh himself and so find
that he is not only fresh and bright during his nocturnal vigils, but
also perfectly ready for his evening prayers, as his food is already
digested.
With such a banquet of two courses, as it were, the holy Moses feasted
us, showing us not only the grace and power of discretion by his
present learned speech, but also the method of renunciation and the
end and aim of the monastic life by the discussion previously held; so
as to make clearer than daylight what we had hitherto pursued simply
with fervour of spirit and zeal for God but with closed eyes, and to
make us feel how far we had up till then wandered from purity of heart
and the straight line of our course, since the practice of all visible
arts belonging to this life cannot possibly stand without an
understanding of their aim, nor can it be taken in hand without a
clear view of a definite end.
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