Husbands, never call her simply by her name, but with terms of endearment, with honor, with much love. Honor her, and she will not need honor from others; she will not want the glory that comes from others, if she enjoys that which comes from thee. Prefer her before all, on every account, both for her beauty and her discernment, and praise her.
Do you wish to honor the Body of the Savior? Do not despise it when it is naked. Do not honor it in church with silk vestments while outside it is naked and numb with cold. He who said, 'This is my body,' and made it so by his word, is the same that said, 'You saw me hungry and you gave me no food. As you did it not to the least of these, you did it not to me.' Honor him then by sharing your property with the poor. For what God needs is not golden chalices but golden souls.
For nothing can so make a man an imitator of Christ as caring for his neighbors. Indeed, even though you fast, or sleep on hard ground, or even suffer unto death, but should take no thought for your neighbor, you have done nothing great; despite what you have done, you will still stand far from this model of a perfect Christian.
Abba Poemen also said this about Abba Isidore that whenever he addressed the brothers in church he said only one thing, 'Forgive your brother, so that you also may be forgiven.'
Do not leave the Church, for there is nothing mightier than She; She will never grow old and will always bloom; thus the Scriptures, showing Her durability and stability, calls Her a mountain.
You have no peace from thoughts, which impel you to trouble others, and in turn to be troubled by others. But know, my brother, that if we offend by word or deed, we are thereby ourselves offended a hundredfold. Be longsuffering in all things and refrain from letting your own will enter into anything. Carefully examine your thoughts lest they infect your heart with deadly poison (ill temper) and make you take a gnat for a camel, a pebble for a cliff, and lest you become like a man who has a beam in his own eye but beholds the mote in the eye of another.
God, the Word, made man for the salvation of our race, aware of the exceeding frailty and misery of our nature, hath not even here suffered our sickness to be without remedy. But like a skillful doctor, he hath mixed for our unsteady and sin loving heart the potion of repentance, prescribing this for the remission of sins. For after we have received the knowledge of the truth, and have been sanctified by water and the Spirit, and cleansed without effort from all sin and all defilement, if we should happen to fall into any transgression, there is, it is true, no second regeneration made within us by the Spirit through baptism in the water of the font, and wholly recreating us (that gift is given once for all); but, by means of painful repentance, hot tears, toils and sweats, there is a purifying and pardoning of our offences through the tender mercy of our God. For the fount of tears is also called baptism, according to the grace of the Master.
What is it that commends our own life? Is it miracles, or is it a life scrupulously and uprightly lived? It is rather from the latter that miracles arise, and to that they tend. For he that lives a worthy life, draws this grace upon himself; and whosoever receives such graces receives them that he may help others to amend their lives. For even Christ wrought miracles that He might the more be accepted as worthy of belief, and so might the more attract men to Himself, and by this means bring sanctity into their lives.
Let us then not lose heart, nor be slothful or timid in prayer. Even if we have been brought down to the depths of evil, prayer can speedily draw us back.
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.
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.
