Yes... For as long as we live, life has no rest. It is leavened with tribulations. Everything is mixed, and blessed is he who has the wisdom to profit from everything he encounters. But things which seem awful to us are the things that bring greater profit to the soul, when we endure them without grumbling. It is amazing, though, how all the temporary, all the vain things of this present life change and shift. And then, in a moment, the first become last and the last first.
True repentance consists of withdrawing from sin and nurturing hatred for it. For, lo, when someone says from his heart: I have hated deceit and been repelled by it - then God accepts him with joy.
A man of good sense, realizing how beneficial are the judgments of God, thankfully endures the tribulations they bring him, holding none guilty but his own sins. But a foolish man, when he sins and is punished, regards as the culprit of his ills either God or men, not discerning the wisdom of Divine Providence.
In words of boastfulness and self-justification there always lie concealed contrariness and pride, from which God turns away. After sinning one ought immediately to 'flee.' But, you will say, where? To the calm haven of heartfelt repentance. Every night before you go to sleep, tell God, the Knower of Hearts, all the sins you have committed in deed, word, and thought, and believe that God receives your heartfelt repentance. At the same time try to render your heart contrite by the memory of sudden death.
Every tribulation reveals the state of our will, whether it inclines to the right or to the left. An unexpected tribulation is called temptation, because it subjects a man to a test of his secret dispositions.
It is not possible for any man to draw near to Christ without tribulation, and without afflictions his righteousness cannot be preserved unchanged. If he puts an end to the labors that make righteousness increase, he will put an end to that which guards it, and his righteousness will be like unguarded treasure. And he will be like a gladiator surrounded by enemy ranks and stripped of his weapons, like a ship bereft of its sails and tackle, and like a garden deprived of its source of water.
It is always possible to make a new start by means of repentance. 'You fell,' it is written, 'now arise'(cf. Prov. 24:16). And if you fall again, then rise again, without despairing at all of your salvation, no matter what happens. So long as you do not surrender yourself willingly to the enemy, your patient endurance, combined with self-reproach, will suffice for your salvation. 'For at one time we ourselves went astray in our folly and disobedience,' says St. Paul. '... Yet He saved us, not because of any good things we had done, but in His mercy' (Tit. 3:3,5).
Sorrow over your sins makes you as gentle and meek as a lamb; and where there is meekness and gentleness, there is serenity and beatitude. What is more precious and blessed than spiritual calm?
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.
Painstaking repentance, mourning cleansed of all impurity, and holy humility in beginners, are as different and distinct from each other as yeast and flour from bread. By open repentance the soul is broken and refined; it is brought to a certain unity, I will even say a commingling with God, by means of the water of genuine mourning. Then, kindled by the fire of the Lord, blessed humility becomes bread and is made firm without the leaven of pride. Therefore, when this holy three-fold cord or, rather, heavenly rainbow, unites into one power and activity, it acquires its own effects and properties. And whatever you name as an indication of one of them, is a token also of another. The first and paramount property of this excellent and admirable trinity is the acceptance of indignity with the greatest pleasure, when the soul receives it with outstretched hands and welcomes it as something that relieves and cauterizes diseases of the soul and great sins. The second property is the loss of all bad temper, and humility as its subsiding. The third and highest degree is a true distrust of one’s good qualities and a constant desire to learn.
The grace of repentance, which acts in those who struggle, is a patristic inheritance. It is a divine transaction and exchange in which we give dust and receive heaven. We exchange matter for the Spirit. Every drop of sweat, every pain, every ascesis for God is an exchange.
