Meditation on Psalm 119: The Light Hidden in Affliction

There are times when suffering ceases to be merely darkness and instead becomes a strange illumination. In the breaking of the heart, a dim but holy light can emerge, revealing with sudden splendor the hidden truth that God has always been near. When His hand feels heavy upon us, when His silence deepens and His providence seems severe, we are often standing on the threshold of that deeper love which purifies, refines, and heals what has long been hidden.

“See my affliction and save me, for I remember your law.” The psalmist does not ask for deliverance from pain alone, but for salvation through remembrance; through the steadfast return of the heart to the law of God, which is the law of love. Affliction becomes the physician’s hand, cutting not to destroy but to cure. The wounds it opens allow the light to enter, healing regions of the soul long darkened by forgetfulness or self-reliance.

“Uphold my cause and defend me; by your promise, give me life.” The soul learns in trial that life is not preserved by its own strength or ingenuity but by the fidelity of God’s promise. Each blow of affliction drives the heart closer to the living Word who alone sustains. The wicked, heedless of His statutes, remain far from salvation precisely because they flee the crucible in which love is made manifest.

Yet for the one who endures, “numberless, Lord, are your mercies.” The psalmist, surrounded by enemies and inner torment, still testifies to an ocean of mercy. Even while pressed on every side, he finds within the pain a secret joy; the certainty that God is shaping something eternal within him. “Though my foes and oppressors are countless, I have not swerved from your will.”

Affliction, then, becomes the hidden school of fidelity. The heart learns to love the precepts of God not because they protect from suffering but because they reveal His truth in the midst of it. “See how I love your precepts; in your mercy, give me life.” The soul begins to see that mercy and law are not opposed but one: the law is mercy in form, and mercy is the law fulfilled.

“Your word is founded on truth; your decrees are eternal.” So the heart, chastened by pain and illumined by grace, rests finally in what cannot be shaken. The eternal Word stands beneath every trial, and every sorrow that once seemed to destroy now becomes a window to that uncreated Light which heals all things and gives life to the soul.

“When the Battle Begins Within”

Synopsis of Tonight’s Group on The Ascetical Homilies of St. Isaac the Syrian Homily 5 paragraphs 4-7

St. Isaac speaks with a stark honesty that strips away every illusion about the spiritual life. To choose the good is to summon the battle. Every true beginning draws the adversary’s attention. God allows this not to crush the soul but to test its resolve and to purify its love. Without that fire, virtue remains unproven and fragile.

The one who doubts that God is his helper collapses under his own shadow. Fear itself becomes the enemy. Such a person starves amid plenty and drowns in calm waters, undone not by external trials but by the absence of trust. St. Isaac’s words expose this inner poverty: faith without endurance is only sentiment. The steadfast heart, confident in God, is revealed in trial and shines before friend and foe alike.

The commandments are not burdens but treasures. They conceal the presence of the Lord Himself. The one who carries them within finds God as chamberlain, waking and sleeping. Fear of sin becomes illumination, and even darkness turns transparent. The soul that trembles at evil walks with light before and within, guided by mercy that steadies every faltering step.

St. Isaac ends with a fierce precision. There is no substitution in repentance. What is lost must be restored by the same means through which it was forfeited. God will not take a pearl for a penny, nor alms in place of purity. Greed is uprooted only by mercy, not by any other virtue. He will not be deceived by offerings that leave corruption untouched.

This is the hard edge of Isaac’s wisdom: grace demands truth. The path to God is not through sentiment or display but through the narrow way where every false comfort is stripped away, and only the tested heart endures.

New Evergetinos Podcast

 

We continued with our reading of Hypothesis I on “repentance in the avoidance of despair.” After giving us a foundation of many stories of God‘s infinite and boundless mercy, the focus of attention this evening is on the human response to this mercy.  Repentance is not a static reality. Rather, it is a source of protection, a cloak that one wears. We are not meant to simply remain in the sadness of having committed sins, but rather we are to rise and engage in the spiritual warfare that God’s mercy and grace gives us the strength to enter. We are to be combatants. Our weapons are not worldly nor are they rooted in ourselves but rather arise first from the grace of God and manifest themselves in our hearts as humility, obedience, self-sacrificing love, contrition. We are also shown that the impact of repentance is not limited to one person. Repentance when it is deep and true brings about miracles not only in one’s own life but in the lives of those around us. God’s grace and mercy overflows in response to the abundance of tears that an individual sheds on behalf of his sins and the sins of the world. The presence of penitents in the Church strengthens it and gives others who have fallen into sin hope of salvation and conversion of life.

Evergetinos Podcast

The Lover of Virtue

St. Isaac clarifies something about the attitude that we must have as we seek to grow in virtue and overcome vice.  We must come to see that often hidden within valiant struggle is still the desire for the vice.  The sign that one is a lover of virtue is expressed through the willingness to endure all manner of evil and suffering to maintain it with joy!  The pure heart remains unconfused and unmoved by the "flattery of tantalizing pleasures."  Sin must no longer have any attraction for us.  Isaac also adds that if we lose the ability or free will to sin due to certain circumstances, i.e., illness, we will not come to know the true joy of repentance.  Absence of sin does not mean the presence of virtue.  All of this is a challenge to halfhearted approach to the spiritual life.

The lover of virtue is not he who does good with valiant struggle, but he who accepts with joy the evils that attend the virtue.  It is not so great a thing for one patiently to endure afflictions on behalf of virtue, as it is for the mind through the determination of its good volition to remain unconfused by the flattery of tantalizing pleasures. No kind of repentance that takes place after the removal our free will will be a well-spring of joy, nor will it be reckoned for the reward of those who possess it.

St. Isaac the Syrian

Do we understand the worth of our souls?

If we understood the value of our souls and could see the preciousness of the gifts that God has given us we would labor to deepen and preserve them.  No amount of ascetic labor would, so long as suited to our station in life, seem excessive or beyond our strength.  Sorsky exhorts us not to make asceticism and the spiritual disciplines something of the past and not necessary for ourselves.  We have received the same call to holiness.  The only thing that makes it impossible is the lack of a serious desire to repent. 

We can at least be conscious of the folly that engrosses us, of how we throw away our talents in the pursuit of material things as we give ourselves over to cares and anxieties that are harmful for our souls.  And we regard all such pursuit as good and praiseworthy!  But woe to us!  We do not understand the worth of our souls.  We do not understand that we have not been called to live such an evil life, as St. Isaac says.  Woe to us if we think our life in this world - its sufferings, its joys, its rest - have importance for us!  Woe to us if by the life of our soul, so weighted down by laziness, worldly curiosity, and lack of concern, we should be convinced that the style of life that was proper to that lived by the ancient saints is no longer necessary for us nor is it possible for us to live such ascetical exploits.  No, this cannot be so, in no way!  Such practices are not possible only for those who are immersed by self-indulging passions because of their own free will who do not seriously desire to repent, namely, to truly come under the guidance of the divine Holy Spirit, but who are given over to useless, worldly cares.

Nil Sorsky 

More Joy in Heaven

Our Lord tells us there is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety nine others who have no need of repentance.  It may seem strange to us to imagine the existence of such a joy, especially in regard to ourselves.  Perhaps very few of us allow ourselves to weep true tears of repentance, to experience true sorrow for our sins, and so never come to know that heavenly joy.  Tears that emerge from eyes that gaze upon Christ are the prelude to the loving embrace of the Heavenly Bridegroom.  

If there is one thing the devil would want to prevent it is this movement from sorrow to joy, from repentance to intimacy.  He would keep us in the despair of our own wretchedness, despondent through lack of hope in forgiveness or convince us that our sins are of no account - such that our repentance produces no tears, internal or external.  In both cases, we see only the light of salvation fade and the heart grow cold.  

Let us not then make ourselves unworthy of entrance into the bride-chamber: for as long as we are in this world, even if we commit countless sins it is possible to wash them all away by manifesting repentance for our offenses: but when once we have departed to the other world, even if we display the most earnest repentance it will be of no avail, not even if we gnash our teeth, beat our breasts, and utter innumerable calls for succor, no one with the tip of his finger will apply a drop to our burning bodies, but we shall only hear those words which the rich man heard in the parable ‘Between us and you a great gulf has been fixed.’ [Luke xvi. 26]

Let us then, I beseech you, recover our senses here and let us recognize our Master as He ought to be recognized. For only when we are in Hades should we abandon the hope derived from repentance: for there only is this remedy weak and unprofitable: but while we are here even if it is applied in old age itself it exhibits much strength. Wherefore also the devil sets everything in motion in order to root in us the reasoning which comes of despair: for he knows that if we repent even a little we shall not do this without some reward. But just as he who gives a cup of cold water has his recompense reserved for him, so also the man who has repented of the evils which he has done, even if he cannot exhibit the repentance which his offenses deserve, will have a commensurate reward. For not a single item of good, however small it may be, will be overlooked by the righteous judge. For if He makes such an exact scrutiny of our sins, as to require punishment for both our words and thoughts, much more will our good deeds, whether they be great or small, be reckoned to our credit at that day.

Wherefore, even if thou art not able to return again to the most exact state of discipline, yet if thou withdraw thyself in a slight degree at least from thy present disorder and excess, even this will not be impossible: only set thyself to the task at once, and open the entrance into the place of contest; but as long as thou tarriest outside this naturally seems difficult and impracticable to thee. [Matt. xxv. 34; 249 Luke xvi. 26]. For before making the trial even if things are easy and manageable they are wont to present an appearance of much difficulty to us: but when we are actually engaged in the trial, and making the venture the greater part of our distress is removed, and confidence taking the place of tremor and despair lessens the fear and increases the facility of operation, and makes our good hopes stronger.

For this reason also the wicked one dragged Judas out of this world lest he should make a fair beginning, and so return by means of repentance to the point from which he fell. For although it may seem a strange thing to say, I will not admit even that sin to be too great for the succor which is brought to us from repentance. Wherefore I pray and beseech you to banish all this Satanic mode of thinking from your soul, and to return to this state of salvation.

+ St. John Chrysostom, An Exhortation to Theodore After His Fall, Letter 1

Fall from grace

Through holy baptism we are granted remission of our sins, are freed from the ancient curse, and are sanctified by the presence of the Holy Spirit. But we do not as yet receive the perfection of grace … for that is true only of those who are steadfast in faith and have demonstrated this through what they do. If after we have been baptized we gravitate toward evil and foul actions, we lose the sanctification of baptism completely. But through repentance, confession, and tears we receive a corresponding remission of our former sins and, in this way, sanctification accompanied by the grace of God.

St. Symeon the New Theologian

Repentance Refined and Perfected

First the soul has to surmount afflictions embraced willingly, thereby learning to spurn sensual pleasure and self-glory; and this in its turn will permit us readily to bear the afflictions that come unsought. If for the sake of poverty of spirit you spurn each pleasure and self-glory, and also regard yourself as deserving the more drastic remedy of repentance, you will be ready to bear any affliction and will accept any temptation as your due, and you will rejoice when it comes, for you will see it as a cleansing agent for your soul.

St. Gregory Palamas

Do not abandon your Physician in despair

It is always possible to make a new start by means of repentance. “You fell,” it is written, “now arise” (Proverbs 24:16). And if you fall again, then rise again, without despairing at all of your salvation, no matter what happens. As long as you do not surrender yourself willingly to the enemy, your patient endurance, combined with self-reproach, will suffice for your salvation. “For at one time we ourselves went astray in our folly and disobedience,” says St. Paul. “… Yet he saved us, not because of any good things we had done, but in his mercy” (Titus 3:5). So do not despair in any way, ignoring God’s help, for he can do whatever he wishes. On the contrary, place your hope in him and he will do one of these things: either through trials and temptations, or in some other way which he alone knows, he will bring about your restoration; or he will accept your patient endurance and humility in the place of works; or because of your hope he will act lovingly toward you in some other way of which you are not aware, and so will save your shackled soul. Only do not abandon your Physician.

St. Peter of Damaskos

Marvel at God's Compassion

“Even if you are not what you should be, you should not despair. It is bad enough that you have sinned; why in addition do you wrong God by regarding him in your ignorance as powerless? Is he, who for your sake created the great universe that you behold, incapable of saving your soul? And if you say that this fact, as well as his incarnation, only makes your condemnation worse, then repent; and he will receive your repentance, as he accepted that of the prodigal son (Luke 15:20) and the prostitute (Luke 7:37–50). But if repentance is too much for you, and you sin out of habit even when you do not want to, show humility like the publican (Luke 18:13): this is enough to ensure your salvation. For he who sins without repenting, yet does not despair, must of necessity regard himself as the lowest of creatures, and will not dare to judge or censure anyone. Rather, he will marvel at God’s compassion.

St. Peter of Damaskos

Repentance Recreates Man

To fall and be injured is human, since—even if a man’s life lasted for only one day—his mind is inclined to evil from his youth (cf. Gen. 8:21 ). But to fall and remain fallen is not human. Repentance recreates man; it was given to us to cure the soul after baptism. If it did not exist, rarely would a person be saved. That is why, the virtue of repentance is unending as long as man is alive, for only the perfect do not err. My children, every time you see your thoughts reproaching you for some sin, immediately take the medicine: repent, weep, go to confession, and behold, you return to your former and better state.

- “Counsels from the Holy Mountain”, selected from the letters and homilies of Elder Ephraim

Step Six of the Ladder of Divine Ascent - On Remembrance of Death

            This brief step considers a rather simple but essential practice of the desert fathers; to remember not only that one will die, but what death brings - judgment.  Such a thought spurs one on to repentance and conversion, prevents laziness, makes dishonor and indignity sweet, banishes worries and anxieties, and deters sin.  This alone is enough to make John call it the "most essential of all works."

1-5            Remembrance of death is defined, including how one recognizes it in others.

            To be reminded of death each day is to die each day; to remember one's departure from life is to provoke tears by the hour.  Fear of death is a property of nature due to disobedience, but terror of death is a sign of unrepented sins.  Christ is frightened of dying but not terrified, thereby clearly revealing the properties of His two natures.

            Just as bread is the most necessary of all foods, so the thought of death is the most essential of all works.  The remembrance of death brings labors and meditations, or rather, the sweetness of dishonor to those living in community, whereas for those living away from turbulence it produces freedom from daily worries and breeds constant prayer and guarding of the mind, virtues that are the cause and the effect of the thought of death.

            You can clearly single out those who hold the thought of death at the center of their being, for they freely withdraw from everything created and they renounce their own will.

            The man who lives daily with the thought of death is to be admired, and the man who gives himself to it by the hour is surely a saint.

6-12            John discusses how remembrance of death leads a monk to conversion and repentance and the practice of specific ascetical disciplines.

            Some, because they are puzzled, ask the following question: "If the remembrance of death is so good for us, why has God concealed from us the knowledge of when we will die?"  In putting such a question, they fail to realize how marvelously God operates to save us.  No one who knew in advance the hour of his death would accept baptism or join a monastery long before it, but instead would pass all his time in sin and would be baptized and do penance only on the day of his demise.  Habit would make him a confirmed and quite incorrigible sinner.

            The man who wants to be reminded constantly of death and of God's judgment and who at the same time gives in to material cares and distractions, is like someone trying at the same time to swim and to clap his hands.

            If your remembrance of death is clear and specific, you will cut down on your eating; and if, in your humility, you reduce the amount you eat, your passions will be correspondingly reduced.

            To have an insensitive heart is to be dulled in mind, and food in abundance dries up the well of tears.  Thirst, however, and the keeping of vigils afflict the heart; and when the heart is stirred, then the tears may run.  Now all this may sound disgusting to the gluttonous and unbelievable to the sluggish, but a man pursuing the active life will try this course and the experience will make him smile, whereas the one who is still casting about him will become even more depressed. 

13-15            Through the use of illustrative stories, John shows how remembrance of death prevents spiritual laziness and deters sin.

            This is what an Egyptian monk once said to me: "If it ever happened that I was inclined to offer some comfort to this carcass of mine, the remembrance of death that had been so firmly established in my heart would stand before me like a judge; and - a wonderful thing - even if I wanted to push it aside, I simply could not do so."

           

            And I must certainly tell you about Hesychius the Horebite.  All his life he was careless and he paid not the slightest attention to his soul.  Then a very grievous illness came on him, so that he was for a whole hour absent from the body.  After he had revived, he begged us all to go away at once, built up the door of his cell, and remained twelve years inside without ever speaking to anyone and taking only bread and water.  He never stirred and was always intent on what it was he had seen in his ecstasy.  He never moved and had the look of someone out of his mind.  And, silently, he wept warm tears.  But when he was on the point of death, we broke in and we asked him many questions.  All he would say was this: "Please forgive me.  No one who has acquired the remembrance of death will ever be able to sin."

            Just as some declare that the abyss is infinite, for they call it a bottomless pit, so the thought of death is limitless and brings with it chastity and activity.  The saint mentioned above proved this.  Men like him unceasingly pile fear on fear, and never stop until the very strength of their bones is worn out.

16-20            John warns against excessive trust in the leniency of God and exhorts his monks to embrace this holy practice.

             The man who has died to all things remembers death, but whoever holds some ties with the world will not cease plotting against himself.

            Do not deceive yourself, foolish worker, into thinking that one time can make up for another.  The day is not long enough to allow you to repay in full its debt to the Lord.

            Someone has said that you cannot pass a day devoutly unless you think of it as your last.

            This, then, is the sixth step.  He who has climbed it will never sin.  "Remember your last end, and your will never sin" (Ecclus. 7:36).     

Step Five of the Ladder of Divine Ascent - On Penitence

            John begins this step with a somewhat moderate and encouraging tone by describing repentance as a "renewal of one's baptism and a contract with God for a fresh start in life."  With repentance there is always hope and never despair.  As penitents we stand before our God guilty, but never disgraced.  Indeed, we inflict punishments on ourselves out of love for God, in an attempt to reconcile ourselves to him and to receive the peace that comes through his forgiveness.

            However, if there is a step in the "Ladder" which pierces one's heart, if there is any part of the book which really shakes us and brings the message home, it is precisely this step concerning those blessed and compunctionate and voluntary inmates of "the Prison."  For truly these holy ones, crazed for Christ, described by John, are a mirror for us, the sluggish and indolent, to look into and to behold how wanting we are in the realm of true heartfelt repentance.  They were earnest and serious about their repentance; we are light and distracted concerning our salvation.  Some are repelled by the Prison of the "Ladder", while others are pierced and moved by the love for God and strength of soul of these stouthearted inmates, and mourn the lack of both in themselves.

           

1-3            Repentance described and defined.

            Repentance is the renewal of baptism and is a contract with God for a fresh start in life.  Repentance goes shopping for humility and is ever distrustful of bodily comfort.  Repentance is critical awareness and a sure watch over oneself.  Repentance is the daughter of hope and the refusal of despair.  (The penitent stands guilty - but undisgraced.)  Repentance is reconciliation with the Lord by the performance of good deeds which are the opposites of the sins.  It is the purification of conscience and the voluntary endurance of affliction.  The penitent deals out his own punishment, for repentance is the fierce persecution of the stomach and the flogging of the soul into intense awareness.

4-16            John then tells of his visit to the "Prison".  He begins by describing the actions of the penitents and how their grief over their sin was expressed.  He examines their attitudes toward their sin; their bitter sorrow and contrition and how they humbly and without excuse acknowledged their failures.

           

            Let us give first place to the story of the dishonored workers - who still earned respect.  Let us listen, take heed, and act - we who have suffered an unexpected fall. . . Listen, all you who long to be reconciled with God again in a true conversion.

            I, the weakling, heard that there was a great and strange way of life and lowliness for those living in a separate monastery call "The Prison." 

            I went . . .to that abode of penitents, to that place of true grief, and if I may be so bold as to say so, I actually saw what the eye of an inattentive man never saw, what the ear of a lackadaisical man never heard, what never entered the heart of a sluggard.  I saw things done and said that could only draw down the mercy of God, deeds and attitudes of body that quickly win His love for men. 

           

            I saw there humble and contrite souls who were saddened by the weight of their burden.  The stones themselves would have been moved to pity by their voices and by their cries to God.  Looking down to the ground, they would say this: "We know, we know that we deserve every punishment and every torment.  Rightly so.  How could we make up for all that we owe, even if we had the entire world there to weep for us?  All we ask, all we pray for, all we implore is that 'in your anger You do not rebuke us or chasten us in Your wrath' (Ps. 6:2).  Be sparing.  It is enough for us if You deliver us from Your great threat and from unknown and hidden torments.  We dare not ask for complete forgiveness.  How could we, when we have failed to keep our vow unstained, but after all Your past loving kindness and forgiveness have defiled it?

            The words of David could surely be seen to be fulfilled there, for there were men in hardship and bowed down to the end of their lives, going about each day in sadness, their bodies' wounds stinking of rottenness (Ps. 37:6-7) and yet unnoticed by them.  They forgot to eat their bread; their drink was mixed with tears.  They ate dust and ashes instead of bread; their bones stuck to their flesh and they were dried up like grass (Ps. 101:4-12).  The only words you could hear from them were these: "Woe, woe, alas, alas!  It is just, it is just.  Spare us, spare us, O Lord."  Some said, "Be merciful, be merciful"; others, more sadly: "Forgive us, Lord, forgive us if it is possible."

17-20            After having described their attitudes and behaviors, John then considers the effects of their penitence; the extreme humility it created and the detachment from worldly possessions and honors it fostered.  Their repentance became a source of blessing and holiness.

            Would you witness any laughter among them?  Idle talk?  Irritation?  Anger?  No, indeed.  They no longer knew what it was for a man to be angry, for grief had done away with their capacity for rage.

            Where was quarreling among them?  Or merrymaking?  Or bold speech?  Or concern for the body?  Where among them was any trace of vanity, or longing for comfort, or the thought of wine, or the taste of fresh fruit, or the enjoyment of cooked food, or the pleasing of the palate?  The fact was that even the hope of such things in this world had been extinguished in them.

            Did any of them worry about earthly things?  Or pass judgment on anyone?  Certainly not.

21-25            John takes us into their minds and hearts by showing us the kinds of questions they would ask themselves - how they refused to be presumptuous about the mercy and forgiveness of God.

            All of them sat ceaseless contemplating death, saying, "How will it go for us?  What will be the verdict on us?  How will life end for us?  Will we receive pardon?  Will there be forgiveness for those in darkness, for the lowly, for the convicted?  Is our prayer vigorous enough to come before the face of the Lord, or has it been rejected - and rightly so - for being worthless and shameful? . . .  Would our prayer reconcile us completely with the Judge or only in part, only to the extent of half our wounds, which are very great and require much sweat and hard work?" 

            "Let us do what we can.  If He opens the door, well and good; if not, then blessed be the Lord God Who in His justice has shut the door to us.  At least we should continue to knock at the door as long as we live. Maybe He will open to us on account of our persistence."

26-27            John then tells us how they approached the experience of death and again how they were never presumptuous about the judgment of God or the value and effectiveness of their penitence.

            The last hour of one of these was fearful to behold.  When the penitents in the prison learned that one of their number was finishing his course and going ahead of them, they would gather round while his mind was still working.  Thirsty, tearful, and sad, they would look at him compassionately, shaking their heads, racked with tenderness, and they would speak to the dying man: "Brother and fellow penitent, how is it with you?  What will you say?  What are your hopes and expectations?  Have you achieved what you worked for so hard, or have you not?  Has the door been opened to you, or are you still under sentence?  Did you reach your goal, or did you fail?  Has any kind of assurance come to you, or are you still uncertain in your hopes?  Are you free at last, or does darkness and doubt still hang over your thoughts?  Have you sensed any illumination in your heart, or is it still in darkness and dishonor?

            Some of the dying would answer: "Blessed be God who has not turned away my prayer nor His mercy from me" (Ps 65:20).  Others would say, "Blessed be the Lord Who has not given us a prey to their teeth" (Ps 123:6).  But others would be sad and say: "Will our soul pass through the impassable water of the spirits of the air?" (Ps. 123:5)  These would be unsure, and would be worried about the rendering of accounts after death.  And more sadly yet, others would say: "Woe to the soul that has not kept its vow unblemished!  In this hour, and in this one only, it will discover what is prepared for it."

28-32            John invites us to compare our indifference to their zeal in mourning for their sins.  He then examines what would motivate a person to embrace such penitence and mourning. 

            I came close to despair when I had seen and heard all this among them and when I had compared my own indifference with what they went through.  What a dreadful place they lived in! . . . Just the sight of it would teach you penitence and mourning.

            Yet what for some is hard and unbearable is easy and tolerable for those who have fallen away from virtue and spiritual treasures.  A soul that has lost its one-time confidence and abandoned its hope of dispassion, that has broken the seal of chastity, that has squandered the treasury of divine graces, that has become a stranger to divine consolation, that has rejected the Lord's command, that has extinguished the beautiful fire of spiritual tears - and that is wounded and pierced by sorrow as it remembers all this - will not only take on the labor mentioned above with all eagerness, but will even decide devoutly to kill itself with penitential works.  It will do so if there is in it only the tiniest spark of love or of fear of the Lord.  And of such a kind were these blessed men.

            They would think of their former achievements and, weeping for them as though they were children that had died, they would say: "Where is the purity of my prayer?  The confidence that was in it?  Where are the sweet tears, instead of these bitter ones?  Where is that hope of perfect chastity and purification?  Where is that expectation of blessed dispassion? 

33-36            John then speaks of the value of penitence and the humility needed to embrace such a path.

             "It seems to me that those who have fallen and are penitent are more blessed than those who have never fallen and who do not have to mourn over themselves, because through having fallen, they have pulled themselves up by a sure resurrection."

            Now I know well, my friends, that these labors I have described will seem unbelievable to some, unattainable to others, and be a source of despair to others still.  Yet they will actually be an incentive to a brave soul, a fiery blast, so that he will go away with zeal in his heart, whereas the man who feels a great incapacity in himself will understand his own weakness, be humbled easily by the reproach he levels against himself, and will at least try to follow the soul who is brave.  And I am not at all sure but that he may even overtake him.  But the careless man had better stay away from my stories, for otherwise he may fall into despair, throw away the little he has achieved, and prove to be like that man of whom it was said: "From the man who has no eagerness, even that which he seems to have will be taken away" (cf. Matt. 25:29).  It is impossible for those of us who have fallen into the sink of iniquity ever to be drawn out of it unless we also plumb the depths of the humility shown by the penitent.

            The sad humility of penitents is one thing.  The reproach of conscience of those who are still sinners is another.  The blessed treasure of humility that, with God's help, the perfect manage to attain is yet another.  And we should be in no hurry to find words adequate to this third kind of humility, for our effort will be useless.  But a sign of the second kind is the perfect bearing of indignity.

37-51            The causes of moral lapses are considered and the need for courage and perseverance in the face of recurring failures.  John exhorts the penitent to trust in the mercy and grace of God but also warns against presumption.  Once again, humility is key and true repentance will keep one from judging or even recognizing another's faults.

            An old habit often dominates even someone who mourns.  No wonder, for the judgments visited by God and our own lapses make up a list hard to understand, and it is impossible to be sure which of our failings are due to carelessness, which are due to the fact that God permitted them, and which arise from God's having turned away from us.  I have been told, however, that lapses occurring as a result of divine providence cause us to repent swiftly, since He Who delivers us does not permit us to be held captive for long.  But above all we must fight off the demon of dejection whenever we happen to slip, for he comes right beside us when we are  praying and reminds us of our former good standing with God and tries to divert us from our prayer.

            Do not be surprised if you fall every day and do not surrender.  Stand your ground bravely. . . A fresh warm wound is easier to heal than those that are old, neglected, and festering, and that need extensive treatment, surgery, bandaging, and cauterization.  Long neglect can render many of them incurable.  However, all things are possible with God (Matt. 19:26).

            God is merciful before a fall, inexorable after - so the demons say.  And when you have sinned, pay no attention to him who says in regard to minor failings: "If only you had not commit that major fault!  This is nothing by comparison."  The truth is that very often small gifts soften the great anger of the Judge.

            He who really keeps track of what he has done will consider as lost every day during which he did not mourn, regardless of whatever good he may happen to have done.

            Let no one who grieves for his sins expect reassurance at the hour of death.  There can be no assurance about the unknown. 

           

            He who weeps for himself will not be wrapped up in the grief, lapse, or reproach of someone else.

            We ought to be on our guard, in case our conscience has stopped troubling us, not so much because of its being clear but because of its being immersed in sin.

            A proof of our having been delivered from our failings is the unceasing acknowledgement of our indebtedness.

            Nothing equals the mercy of God or surpasses it.  To despair is therefore to inflict death on oneself.

            All of us - but especially the lapsed - should be especially careful not to be afflicted with the disease of the godless Origen.  This foul disease uses God's love for man as an excuse and is very welcome to those who are lovers of pleasure.

52-53            John concludes by telling his readers to above all let the image of the inmates at the "Prison" be imprinted upon their minds and hearts.  They are to let the example of these holy men be their rule and model for repentance.                  

            Let the holy prisoners, described above, be a rule for you, a pattern, a model, a true picture of repentance, so that for as long as you live you will have no need of a treatise; until at last Christ, the divine Son of God, will enlighten you in the resurrection of true repentance. Amen.