Angels are a light for monks, and the monastic life is a light for all men. Therefore let monks strive to become a good example in everything, giving no occasion for stumbling in anything (II Corinthians 6:3) in all their works and words. For if the light becomes darkness, how much darker will be that darkness, that is, those living in the world.
And so the holy apostle Paul was not angry when the world called him a ‘fool for Christ’, but, in defiance of the world, accepted the name. It is of no concern, either, to us, how the world regards and calls us. It is, though, of the greatest concern to us how the angels in heaven will regard us and call us when we meet with them after death. That is of fateful importance, and all else is meaningless.
Just as over-drinking is a matter of habit, so too from habit comes over-sleeping. Therefore we must struggle with the question of sleep, especially in the early days of obedience, because a long-standing habit is difficult to cure.
The demons, murderers as they are, push us into sin. Or if they fail to do this, they get us to pass judgment on those who are sinning, so that they may defile us with the stain which we ourselves are condemning in another.
Fear is a rehearsing of danger beforehand; or again, fear is a trembling sensation of the heart, alarmed and troubled by unknown misfortunes. Fear is a loss of assurance.
If you possess the gift of mourning, hold on to it with all your might. For it is easily lost when it is not firmly established. And just as wax melts in the presence of fire, so it is easily dissolved by noise and bodily cares, and by luxury, and especially by talkativeness and levity.
Let your very dress urge you to the work of mourning, because all who lament the dead are dressed in black. If you do not mourn, mourn for this cause. And if you mourn, lament still more that, by your sins, you have brought yourself down from a state free of labors to one of labor.
In the heart is the will; in the heart is love; in the heart is the mind--in the heart is the image of the divine Trinity. The heart is the home of the Father, the altar of the Son and the workshop of the Holy Spirit. God wants our hearts: Son, give Me thy heart. Oh, my brother, above and beyond all else that you keep safe, guard your heart. Let the mountains be overthrown and the seas dried up; let friends forsake you and riches betray you; let your body be eaten by worms; let the world pour on you all the scorn of which it is capable--and do not fear. Only guard your heart; guard it and make it cleave to the Lord; give it into His keeping. Life flows from the heart; but whence comes this life in the heart, unless it is the abode of the breath of the Lord and Source of life-God? Oh, my brother, the Spirit of God Himself can, when He so desires, dwell in the human heart. He not only can, but wills to do so. Only, He waits for you to prepare your heart for Him; to make it into a temple, for God the Holy Spirit only lives in a temple. As a snake protects its head, so, my son, guard your heart. For the life that comes from the living God enters into it and flows forth from it.
Greater than baptism itself is the fountain of tears after baptism, even though it is somewhat audacious to say so. For baptism is the washing away of evils that were in us before, but sins committed after baptism are washed away by tears. As baptism is received in infancy, we have all defiled it, but we cleanse it anew with tears. And if God in His love for mankind had not given us tears, those being saved would be few indeed and hard to find.
In detachment, the spirit finds quiet and repose for coveting nothing. Nothing wearies it by elation, and nothing oppresses it by dejection, because it stands in the center of its own humility.
Our good Redeemer, by speedily granting what is asked, draws to His love those who are grateful. But He keeps ungrateful souls praying a long time before Him, hungering and thirsting for what they want, since a badly trained dog rushes off as soon as it is given bread and leaves the giver behind.
