The soul of all practices in the Lord is vigilance. Without vigilance, all these practices are fruitless. He who is desirous of saving himself must so establish himself that he might remain continuously vigilant toward himself, not only in solitude, but also under conditions of distraction, into which he is sometimes unwillingly drawn by circumstances.
Love of God proceeds from conversing with him; this conversation of prayer comes about through stillness, and stillness comes with the stripping away of the self.
If a man has some spiritual gift and feels compassion for those who do not have it, he preserves the gift because of his compassion. But a boastful man will lose it through succumbing to the temptations of boastfulness.
The way to attain compunction is an attentive life. ‘The beginning of repentance comes from the fear of God and attention,’ as the holy martyr Boniface says.
Those who have acquired genuine prayer experience an ineffable poverty of the spirit when they stand before the Lord, glorify and praise Him, confess to Him, or present to Him their entreaties. They feel as if they had turned to nothing, as if they did not exist. That is natural. For when he who is in prayer experiences the fullness of the divine presence, of Life Itself, of Life abundant and unfathomable, then his own life strikes him as a tiny drop in comparison to the boundless ocean. That is what the righteous and long-suffering Job felt as he attained the height of spiritual perfection. He felt himself to be dust and ashes; he felt that he was melting and vanishing as does snow when struck by the sun's burning rays (Job 42:6).
Some fast, live as solitaries without possessions, and pray that God will curb their nature; yet in spite of this, they allow themselves to slander, to reproach and judge their neighbors and ridicule them - and so the Divine help departs from them. They are left to themselves and are unable to find strength needed to counteract our nature's sinful suggestions. In a certain cenobitic monastery, there lived a hermit whose name was Timothy. One of the brethren in the cenobium became subject to temptation. When the abbot heard about this, he asked Timothy how the fallen brother should be treated. The hermit advised him that the seduced one should be expelled. And when they had sent him away, the fallen brother's temptation fell upon Timothy, so that he was in peril. Timothy began tearfully to groan for help and mercy from God. A voice came to him, 'Timothy, know that I have sent this temptation to you, because you disdained your brother in his hour of temptation.' One must deal with the members of Christ - Christians - with great care and circumspection. One must actually suffer with them in their weakness, cutting off only those who show no hope for restored health, lest they infect others with their ailments.
Fasting is the champion of every virtue, the beginning of the struggle, the crown of the abstinent, the beauty of virginity and sanctity, the resplendence of chastity, the commencement of the path of Christianity, the mother of prayer, the well-spring of sobriety and prudence, the teacher of stillness, and the precursor of all good works. Just as the enjoyment of light is coupled with healthy eyes, so desire for prayer accompanies fasting that is practiced with discernment.
On that day God will not judge us about psalmody, nor for the neglect of prayer, but because by abandoning them, we have opened our door to the demons.
He, in whose heart humility and meekness are reborn, will find true rest for his soul. He will be satisfied with everything, grateful for everything, peaceful and full of love for everybody. He will judge none and will feel no anger. His heart will be filled with divine sweetness, that is, he will feel in himself the Kingdom of God because God grants His grace only to the humble.
If you pile up on one side of the scales all the works demanded by ascetic life, and on the other side-silence, you will find that the latter outweighs the former. Many good counsels have been given us, but if a man embraces silence, to follow them will become superfluous.
The grace of the Spirit is one and unchanging, but energizes in each one of us as He wills. When rain falls upon the earth, it gives life to the quality inherent in each plant: sweetness in the sweet, astringency in the astringent; similarly, when grace falls upon the hearts of the faithful, it gives to each the energies appropriate to the different virtues without itself changing.
The key to Divine gifts is given to the heart by love of neighbor, and, in proportion to the heart's freedom from the bonds of the flesh, the door of knowledge begins to open before it.
