We came from Palestine to Egypt and went to see one of the fathers. He offered us hospitality and we said, 'Why do you not keep the fast when visitors come to see you? In Palestine they keep it.' He replied, 'Fasting is always with me but I cannot always have you here. It is useful and necessary to fast, but we choose whether we will fast or not. What God commands is perfect love. I receive Christ in you and so I must do everything possible to serve you with love. When I have sent you on your way, then I can continue my rule of fasting. The sons of the bridegroom cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them; when he is taken away from them, then they will fast.'
A holy elder, seeing with his own eyes a certain brother fall into deep sin, not only did not judge him, but wept and said: 'He fell today; without doubt I will fall tomorrow. But he certainly will repent, whereas for myself, I am not so sure of this.'
And so it often comes about that the life of one burning with love after having sinned is more pleasing to God than a life of innocence that grows languid in its sense of security.
One day, a young monk came to see an elder and asked him, 'What must I do, Father? I fall continuously in the same sin.' The elder replied, 'If you fall into sin, get up and do penance.' Monk: 'And if I fall again?' Elder: 'Then get up and repent of your sin again.' Monk: 'But until when?' Elder: 'Until your death.'
It was said of Abba Arsenius that once when he was ill at Scetis, the priest came to take him to church and put him on a bed with a small pillow under his head. Now behold, and old man who was coming to see him, saw him lying on a bed with a little pillow under his head and he was shocked and said, 'Is this really Abba Arsenius, this man lying down like this?' Then the priest took him aside and said to him, 'In the village where you lived, what was your trade?' 'I was a shepherd,' he replied. 'And how did you live?' 'I had a very hard life.' Then the priest said to him, 'And how do you live in your cell now?' The other replied, 'I am more comfortable.' Then the priest said to him, 'Do you see this Abba Arsenius? When he was in the world he was the guardian of the emperor, surrounded by thousands of slaves with golden girdles, all wearing collars of gold and garments of silk. Beneath him were spread rich coverings. While you were in the world as a shepherd you did not enjoy even the comforts you now have, but he no longer enjoys the delicate life he led in the world. So you are comforted while he is afflicted.' At these words, the old man was filled with compunction and prostrated himself saying, 'Father, forgive me, for I have sinned. Truly the way this man follows is the way of truth, for it leads to humility, while mine leads to comfort.' So the old man withdrew, edified.
The spiritual discipline of fasting is a tool for shifting the focus away from us and toward the Lord and our brothers and sisters in whom we encounter Him each day. If we distort fasting into a private religious accomplishment to prove how holy we are, we would do better not to fast at all. That would simply be a way of serving ourselves instead of God and those who bear His image and likeness. In Lent, our focus must be set squarely on Christ and His living icons, not on us. The fundamental calling of the Christian life is to become like our Lord, Who offered Himself up for the salvation of the world purely out of love. If we are truly in communion with Him, then we too must offer up ourselves for our neighbors. And as He taught in the parable of the Good Samaritan, there are no limits on what it means to be a neighbor to anyone who is in need, regardless of nationality, culture, or anything else. Those who limit their concern for people according to such standards place serving the kingdoms of this world before fidelity to the Kingdom of God.
True patience consists in bearing calmly the evils others do to us, and in not being consumed by resentment against those who inflict them. Those who only appear to bear the evils done them by their neighbors, who suffer them in silence while they are looking for an opportunity for revenge, are not practicing patience, but only make a show of it.
Having withdrawn from the palace to the solitary life, Abba Arsenius prayed and heard a voice saying to him, 'Arsenius, flee, be silent, pray always, for these are the source of sinlessness.'
When Abba Agathon went down to the city to sell some of his baskets and to procure a little bread, he found near the market place an old, poor cripple. 'For the love of God, Abba,' the cripple began to plead on seeing the Saint, 'don't you, too, leave this poor wretch unaided. Bring me near to you.' Abba Agathon picked the man up and sat him next to him in the place where he had set up his baskets to sell them. 'How much money did you make, Abba?' the cripple would ask each time that the Elder sold a basket. 'Such and such,' the Elder would tell him. 'That's good enough,' the cripple finally said. 'Won't you buy me a little pie, Abba? That would be good of you, since I have not eaten since last evening.' 'With pleasure,' the Saint told him, immediately fulfilling the cripple's request. Shortly thereafter, the cripple requested some fruit. And then some sweet. Thus, for each basket that was sold, the Saint spent the proceeds, until, thanks to his patronage, all of the baskets and money were gone, without his having kept even two pennies for himself. More importantly, he did this all with great eagerness, even though he knew that he would thus go perhaps two weeks without any bread for himself. Since he had sold his last basket, the Saint got ready to leave the marketplace. 'So you're going?' the cripple asked him. 'Yes, I have completed all of my work.' 'Uh, do me the favor of taking me as far as the crossroads, and you can leave for the desert from there,' the strange old man again pleadingly said. The good Agathon took the cripple on his back and carried him to the place where he wanted to go, though with great difficulty, since he was exhausted from his day's work. As soon as he reached the crossroads and started to put down his living burden, he heard a sweet voice say to him: 'May you be blessed, Agathon, by God, both on earth and in Heaven.' The Saint raised up his eyes to see who it was who had spoken with him. The would-be old man had completely disappeared, since he was an Angel sent by God to test the Saint's love.
There is a difference, Dearly Beloved Brethren, between the delights of the body and those of the soul, that the delights of the body, when we do not possess them, awaken in us a great desire for them; but when we possess them and enjoy them to the full they straightway awaken in us a feeling of aversion. But spiritual delights work in the opposite way. While we do not possess them we regard them with dislike and aversion; but once we partake of them we begin to desire them, and the more do we hunger for them. In one case the appetite pleases, the reality brings displeasure; in the other it is the appetite [that] displeases, the reality delights us more and more. In the one case appetite leads to fullness, and fullness to disgust; in the other appetite begets fullness, and fullness in turn begets appetite. For spiritual delights, when they fill the soul, increase in us a desire of them; and the more we savor them, the more do we come to know what we should eagerly love.
One of the fathers used to say that some old men were sitting one day and talking of what was useful to the soul. One of them had the gift of vision, and he saw angels who were waving branches in honor of the old men, but when one of them began to speak of irrelevant things the angels withdrew, and some pigs walked amongst the old men bringing a bad smell and messing up everything. As soon as they began once again to speak of what was useful to the soul, the angels returned to do them honor.
An old man was asked, 'How can I find God?' He said, 'In fasting, in watching, in labors, in devotion, and, above all, in discernment. I tell you, many have injured their bodies without discernment and have gone away from us having achieved nothing. Our mouths smell bad through fasting, we know the Scriptures by heart, we recite all the Psalms of David, but we have not that which God seeks: charity and humility.'
The Fathers used to say, “If temptation befall thee in the place thou dost inhabit, desert not the place in the time of temptation: for if thou dost, wheresoever thou goest, thou shalt find what thou fliest before thee.”
