True patience grows with the growth of love. We put up with our neighbors to the extent that we love them. If you love, you are patient. If you cease loving, you will cease being patient. The less we love, the less patience we show. If we truly preserve patience in our souls, we are martyrs without being killed.
He Who before our offence forbids us to sin, after our offence ceases not from waiting for us to repent, He Whom we have rejected calls after us. We have turned away from Him, but He has not turned away from us.
Many are the obstacles that stand in the way of pleasing God; for not merely poverty and obscurity but also riches and honor are trials for the soul. Indeed, to some extent even the solace and ease which grace bestows on the soul can easily become a temptation and a hindrance if the soul is not properly conscious of these effects of grace and does not enjoy them with great circumspection and understanding: for the spirit of evil tries to persuade the soul to relax now it possesses grace, and so contrives to implant in it sluggishness and apathy.
We truly love God and keep His commandments if we restrain ourselves from our pleasures. For he who still abandons himself to unlawful desires certainly does not love God, since he contradicts Him in his own intentions. . . Therefore, he loves God truly, whose mind is not conquered by consent to evil delight. For the more one takes pleasure in lower things, the more he is separated from heavenly love.
If we remember that thief who, for a single confession, was taken into Paradise, we shall realize that it was not for the merit of the life he lived that he obtained so great blessedness, but that it was his by the gift of God, Who had mercy on him. Or let us think of David, the king, whose two such grievous and awful crimes were wiped away by one word of penitence. Neither here do we see that the merit of what he did was equal to obtaining pardon for such great offense, but the grace of God did the more abound when on the occasion of true penitence He did away with all that weight of sin for one single word of genuine confession. Again, when we consider the beginnings of man's calling and salvation, which, as the Apostle tells us, is not of ourselves or of our words, but we are saved by the gift and grace of God, we shall be able clearly to perceive how the end of perfection is not 'of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God Who showeth mercy,' Who makes us victors over our vices, although we have no merit at all of life or labors to weigh against them, nor does the effort of our will avail for us to reach the steep summit of righteousness, or to subdue the flesh which we are bound to use... For the outcome of all good flows from His grace, Who hath bestowed so great an eternity of bliss and such immeasurable glory, with manifold generosity, upon the weak will and the short life-work of man.
The full and complete definition of repentance is that we never again allow in ourselves the sins of which we repent, or whereby our conscience is stung. The mark of satisfaction and forgiveness is when we have driven out from our hearts all desire for them.
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.
Of the Only Case in Which Anger is Good... But we have a use for anger most properly planted within us, and for this use alone it is profitable and healthful for us to entertain it, namely, when we burn with wrathful indignation against the lustful motions of our own hearts, and are enraged to find that those things which we should be ashamed to do or to speak of before men have found admittance into the secret places of our minds. We may then well dread and fear exceedingly the presence of the Angels and the Omnipresence of God Himself, and His all-seeing Eye from which no secrets of our hearts can lie hid.
This is the mark of Christianity--however much a man toils, and however many righteousnesses he performs, to feel that he has done nothing, and in fasting to say, 'This is not fasting,' and in praying, 'This is not prayer,' and in perseverance at prayer, 'I have shown no perseverance; I am only just beginning to practice and to take pains;' and even if he is righteous before God, he should say, 'I am not righteous, not I; I do not take pains, but only make a beginning every day.'
If we remember the thief who, for a single confession on the cross, was taken into Paradise, we shall realize that it was not for the merit of the life he lived that he obtained so great blessedness, but that it was his by the gift of God, Who had mercy on him. Or, let us think of David, the king, whose two grievous and awful crimes were wiped away by one word of penitence. Neither here do we see that the merit of what he did was equal to obtaining pardon for such great offense, but the grace of God did the more abound when on the occasion of true penitence He did away with all that weight of sin for one single word of genuine confession. Again, when we consider the beginnings of man's calling and salvation, which, as the Apostle tells us, is not of ourselves or of our words, but we are saved by the gift and grace of God, we shall be able clearly to perceive how the end of perfection is not 'of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God Who showeth mercy,' Who makes us victors over our vices, although we have no merit at all of life or labors to weigh against them, nor does the effort of our will avail for us to reach the steep summit of righteousness, or to subdue the flesh which we are bound to use... For the outcome of all good flows from His grace, Who hath bestowed so great an eternity of bliss and such immeasurable glory, with manifold generosity, upon the weak will and the short life-work of man.
When a man gives God his secret things, that is, his mind and thoughts, not occupying himself elsewhere, nor wandering away, but putting constraint upon himself, then the Lord deems him worthy of mysteries, in greater sanctity and purity, and gives him heavenly food and spiritual drink
Unless humility and love, simplicity and goodness regulate our prayer, this prayer - or, rather, this pretence of prayer - cannot profit us at all. And this applies not only to prayer, but to every labor and hardship undertaken for the sake of virtue.
That prayer may be poured forth with that fervor and singleness of heart that it ought to have, these rules must always be observed. In the first place, anxiety concerning the things of the flesh must be altogether be put away; then we must not allow to enter our minds any thought or even memory of worldly cares or business. We must cut off slanderings, vain words or many words, jestings and the like. We must root out the disturbances of anger especially, and despondency, and also tear up the
evil roots of carnal lust and avarice. And so with these and similar faults done entirely away with and cut off, - things which can also be discerned by human eyes - and with such a cleansing and purifying as we have mentioned first carried out in the sincerity of simplicity and innocence, we must lay the unshakable foundations of humility strong enough to sustain a tower which shall pierce the heavens.
Even a pious person is not immune to spiritual sickness if he does not have a wise guide -- either a living person or a spiritual writer. This sickness is called prelest, or spiritual delusion, imagining oneself to be near to God and to the realm of the divine and supernatural. Even zealous ascetics in monasteries are sometimes subject to this delusion, but of course, laymen who are zealous in external struggles (podvigi) undergo it much more frequently. Surpassing their acquaintances in struggles of prayer and fasting, they imagine that they are seers of divine visions, or at least of dreams inspired by grace. In every event of their lives, they see special intentional directions from God or their guardian angel. And then they start imagining that they are God's elect, and often try to foretell the future. The Holy Fathers armed themselves against nothing so fiercely as against this sickness -- prelest.
For this present life is but a way by which we travel towards our heavenly home. And because of this we are, in the inscrutable wisdom of God, wearied by frequent disquiet, so that we may not come to love the way more than our home. For there are travelers who when on their way see some smiling field, while they delight in its beauty, they slow their steps and turn aside from the straight path they had begun. The Lord therefore has made the way of this world hard for His Elect in their journey to Him, so that none of them may take his rest in this life, enjoying the beauty of the way, but may hasten speedily towards Him rather than linger by the way; or lest, delighting in the way, they come to forget they once longed for their heavenly home.
For never is a man forced into sin by another’s fault, unless he have, stowed away in his heart, matter for evil deeds. Nor is a man to be held a victim of sudden deception if at the sight of a woman’s beauty he fall into an abyss of vile lust. Rather is it that diseases of soul, deeply hidden away and lost to view, come then to the surface on the occasion of the sight.
When we see sinners we must always weep for ourselves first over their failure. Perhaps we have fallen in the same way; or we can fall, if we haven't yet. And if the judgment of the teaching office must always eradicate vices by the power of discipline, we must nevertheless make careful distinctions: we should be uncompromising about vice, but compassionate to human nature. If a sinner has to be punished, a neighbor has to be supported. When he has nullified what he has done by his repentance, our neighbor is no longer a sinner. With the righteousness of God he turns against himself, and what the divine righteousness reproves he punishes in himself.
