If the highest aim of virtue is that which aims at the advancement of most, gentleness is the most lovely of all, which does not hurt even those whom it condemns, and usually renders them whom it condemns worthy of absolution.
Once when a hippopotamus was ravaging the neighboring countryside the fathers called on Abba Bes to help them. He stood at the place and waited and when he saw the beast, which was of enormous size, he commanded it not to ravage the countryside any more, saying, 'In the name of Jesus Christ, I order you not to ravage this countryside anymore.' The hippopotamus vanished completely from that district as if driven away by an angel.
The body can neither love nor hate. Neither can a body fall in love with a body. The capability for love belongs to the soul. When the soul is in love with the body, that is not love but desire, lust. When the soul is in love with the soul, but not through God, that is either admiration, or pity. However, when the soul, through God loves the soul, without consideration for the appearance of the body - beauty or ugliness - that is love. That is true love. For in love is life.
Once two brethren came to a certain elder whose custom it was not to eat every day. But when he saw the brethren he invited them with joy to dine with him, saying: Fasting has its reward, but he who eats out of charity fulfills two commandments, for he sets aside his own will and he refreshes his hungry brethren.
Many people have the virtue of humility in some circumstances. They then succumb to a supposed demand of their social stature or profession and, under the guise of ‘social necessity’ or ‘professionalism,’ become arrogant in other circumstances. This is much like mixing soil and water in a container. When the container is untouched and at rest, the soil will settle and the water will remain sweet. But if the container is agitated, then the water and the soil are mixed and become mud. The mud then dries, the water evaporates, and only soil is left. Thus only a person of true peace, incapable of agitation, can actually maintain humble virtue, meanwhile tolerating in himself any ostensibly worldly behavior.
A thick rope is composed of thin strands of hemp. One thin strand cannot hold you bound nor strangle you, for you will easily, with the lightest touch, break it and free yourself. But if a thick rope binds you, you will stay bound, and it will strangle you. You cannot easily break it and free yourself of it. As a thick rope is made from thin, weak strands, so men's passions are made up of smaller initial sins. The small, initial sins a man can still break and free himself of. But sin on sin, repeated, the weave becomes thicker and thicker until it becomes a passion, which masters a man as only it can do. You can neither cut it out easily nor cast it away from you nor be divorced from it. Oh, when will men guard themselves from these first sins? Then they would not have so much difficulty in freeing themselves from the passions.
If the humbling of oneself before men is needful that one might be exalted before God, and temporal toil is the prerequisite of immortal life, what does it matter if some shake their heads and laugh at your self-abasement?
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.'
But there is hardly anything more serious than to be joined in marriage to a stranger (i.e., to an unbeliever), where the instigations both of lustful appetite and of disharmony and the shameful crimes of sacrilege are welded together. For if marriage itself needs to be sanctified by the priestly veil and blessing, how is it possible to speak of a marriage where there is no agreement in faith?
A brother asked the abbot Pastor, saying, 'If I should see my brother’s fault, is it good to hide it?' The old man said to him, 'In what hour we do cover up our brother’s sins, God shall cover ours: and in what hour we do betray our brother’s shames, in like manner God shall betray our own.'
It was said of Abba John the Dwarf that he withdrew and lived in the desert at Scetis with an old man of Thebes. His abba, taking a piece of dry wood, planted it and said to him, 'Water it every day with a bottle of water, until it bears fruit.' Now the water was so far away that he had to leave in the evening and return the following morning. At the end of three years the wood came to life and bore fruit. The old man took some of the fruit and carried it to the church saying to the brethren, 'Take and eat the fruit of obedience.'
A wise elder gives the following advice to monks and youth alike: 'Avoid eating foods which are to your liking, but, preferably, eat the simplest foods, and be thankful to God, Who also sends you these.'
In order, then, that Christ may win us all unto obedience, He promises us surpassing honors, and deigns us the highest love, saving, `My mother and My brethren are those who hear the word of God and do it.' For who among men is so obdurate and ungentle, as to refuse to honor, and accord the most complete love to his mother and brethren? For the all-powerful law of nature, even without our will, obliges us to this. When, therefore, bowing our neck to the Savior's commands, we become His followers, and so are in the relation of a mother and brethren to Him, how does He regard us before God's judgment seat? Is it not with gentleness and love? What doubt can there be of this?: And what is comparable to this honor and goodness? What is there worthy of being matched with a gift thus splendid and desirable?
