Barlaam and Ioasaph 1 part 6/18

For this is what withdrawal is: a voluntary hatred of the world, and a denial of nature out of longing for what is above nature.

These, then, conduct themselves on earth as angels, singing psalms and hymns to the Lord with one accord, and being reckoned as confessors through the contests of obedience;

in whom also the Master's saying is fulfilled:

'Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them'—not confining the gathering in his name to this measure, but by the expression 'two or three' indicating an unlimited number.

For whether few or many are gathered together because of his holy name, serving him with fervent longing, we believe that he is present there in the midst of his servants.

By these patterns and such ways of life, men earthly and made of dust have emulated the life of the heavenly ones—in fastings, prayers, and vigils; in warm tears and unwavering mourning; in exile and remembrance of death; in gentleness and freedom from anger; in silence of the lips; in non-possession and poverty; in chastity and self-control; in a humble disposition and stillness; in perfect love toward God and neighbor—having completed their present life and having become angels in their manner of life.

Wherefore God adorned them with wonders and signs and various powers, and caused the sound of their marvelous way of life to resound unto the ends of the inhabited world.

And if I relate to you in detail, bringing it to my lips, the life of one of them—who is said to have become the founder of the monastic way of life (Anthony was his name)—you will certainly come to know, from that one tree, the sweetness of its kindred and similar fruits, and what sort of foundation he laid for asceticism, what sort of roof he set upon it, and what manner of gifts he was deemed worthy to receive from the Savior.

And many others also, after him, having contended the same contest, obtained like crowns and honors.

Blessed are these, and thrice-blessed, who have loved God, and for love of him have despised all things.

For they wept, mourning day and night, that they might obtain unending consolation;

they humbled themselves willingly, that they might be exalted there.

They wasted their own flesh away with hunger and thirst and sleeplessness, so that there the delight and exultation of paradise might receive them in its place;

they became a dwelling-place of the Holy Spirit through purity of heart, as it is written:

"I will dwell in them and walk among them";

they crucified themselves to the world, that they might stand at the right hand of the Crucified One;

they girded their loins with truth, and kept their lamps always ready, awaiting the coming of the immortal Bridegroom;

for having acquired eyes of the intellect, they continually foresaw that dread hour, and kept the vision both of the good things to come and of eternal punishment inseparable from their own heart;

and they were eager to labor, that they might not fail of the everlasting glory;

they became passionless as angels;

and now they dance with those whose life they also imitated.

Blessed are these, and thrice-blessed, because with the unerring eyes of the mind they perceived the vanity of things present, and the instability and unevenness of human prosperity, and this—

having renounced it, they treasured up for themselves eternal goods, and laid hold of the life that never fails nor is cut short by death.

These wondrous and holy men, then, we too, lowly and unworthy though we are, are eager to imitate; yet we do not attain to the height of their heavenly citizenship;

but, so far as lies within our weak and wretched power, we sketch out their life and have put on their outward form, even though we fail in deeds; for we know this divine profession to be a procurer of sinlessness and a co-worker with the incorruption given to us through divine baptism.

And, following the words of those blessed ones, we thoroughly condemn these corruptible and perishable affairs of life, in which nothing is to be found stable, nor even, nor standing upon the same footing;

but all things are vanity and a chasing after wind, bringing many changes in a moment;

for they are feebler than dreams and a shadow, and a breeze blowing through the air;

small and short-lived is their grace, and not even grace at all;

but rather a certain delusion and deceit of the world's wickedness, which we have been taught not to love at all, but rather to hate from the heart.

And indeed, in truth, this world is hateful and to be shunned;

for whatever it bestows upon its friends, it in turn snatches away again in wrath, sending them, stripped of every good thing and clothed instead in shame, and laden with heavy burdens, off to eternal affliction;

and those whom it in turn exalts, it quickly humbles with the utmost wretchedness, making them a footstool and a laughingstock for all their enemies.

Such, then, are its favors;

such are its gifts.

For it is an enemy of its own friends, and a plotter against all who do its will, terribly casting down those who lean upon it, and enervating those who put their trust in it.

It makes covenants with the foolish and false promises, only that it may draw them to itself;

and once those have been so unwise, it itself proves ungrateful and false, fulfilling nothing of what it had agreed to.

For today, having pampered their throat with sweet foods, tomorrow it makes them wholly a meal for their enemies;

today it displays someone as a king, and tomorrow hands him over to some evil bondage;

today flourishing with countless goods, tomorrow a beggar, and a slave of slaves;

today it sets a crown of glory upon his head;

tomorrow it dashes his face to the ground.

Today it adorns his neck with the splendid honors of rank;

tomorrow it humbles him, binding him with fetters of iron.

For a little while it makes him desired by all, but shortly after, greatly hated and abhorred;

today it gladdens, and tomorrow wastes him away with lamentations and wailing.

And hear what sort of end it sets upon all this:

it pitifully makes those who have loved it into inhabitants of Gehenna.

Such a disposition it always holds, such indeed is its purpose, plainly put;

it neither mourns for those who have gone before, nor pities those left behind.

For having terribly deceived the former and shut them up in its nets, it tries again to transfer its cunning arts to these latter ones, wishing no one to escape its harsh snares.

Those, then, who serve so harsh and evil a master, having madly estranged themselves from the good and man-loving one, but who gape after present things and are fused to them, taking no thought at all of what is to come, and who hasten unceasingly after bodily pleasures while letting their souls waste away with hunger and be afflicted with countless evils — such men, I think, are like a man fleeing from the face of a raging unicorn, who, unable to bear the sound of its bellow and its fearful roaring, but fleeing with all his strength lest he become its meal, in running swiftly fell into a great pit;

and as he was falling into it, he stretched out his hands,

and having grasped hold of a certain plant, he held it fast, and having planted his feet upon a certain footing, he thought himself now at last to be in peace and safety.

But looking closer, he saw two mice, one white and the other black, ceaselessly gnawing at the root of the plant from which he was hanging, and already all but reaching the point of cutting it through.

And peering at the bottom of the pit, he saw a dragon fearful to behold, breathing fire and glaring most fiercely, its mouth gaping terribly and eager to swallow him.

And gazing intently once more at that footing on which his feet were planted, he saw four heads of asps thrust out from the wall on which it rested.

And lifting up his eyes, he sees a little honey dripping from the branches of that plant.

So, ceasing to give thought to the misfortunes surrounding him — how outside the unicorn, terribly enraged, was seeking to devour him, while below the bitter dragon gaped to swallow him, and the plant to which he clung was about to be cut through at any moment, and his feet were planted on a slippery and untrustworthy footing —

forgetting, thoughtlessly, so many and such terrifying sights, he became, with his whole mind, absorbed in the sweetness of that little drop of honey.

This is the likeness of those who are fused to the deceit of the present life, the clarity of which I shall now tell you.

The unicorn would be a figure of death, which always pursues and is eager to overtake the race of Adam;

and the pit is the world, being full of all manner of evils and death-bringing snares;

and the plant, ceaselessly being cut through by the two mice, to which he clung, is the course of each man's life, which is spent and consumed through the hours of day and night, and draws nearer, little by little, to being cut off;

and the four asps hint at the constitution of the human body upon four unstable and unsteady elements, which, when disordered and disturbed, dissolve the constitution of the body;

besides these, that fiery and cruel dragon images forth the fearful belly of Hades, which rages to receive those who prefer the pleasures of the present to the good things to come;

and the dripping of the honey signifies the sweetness of the world's pleasures, by which it deceives its own friends and does not allow them to take forethought for their own salvation.

Ioasaph, having heartily welcomed this parable, said:

"How true this saying is, and altogether most fitting!

Do not hesitate, then, always to show me such figures, that I may know precisely what our life is, and to what things it becomes the cause for its own friends."

Again, those who have fallen in love with the pleasures of life, and have been sweetened by its delight, preferring the fleeting and feeble things to those to come and unshaken, are like a certain man who had three friends, two of whom he cherished passionately and clung strongly to their love, contending on their behalf even unto death and choosing to face danger first for their sake;

but toward the third he behaved with great contempt, never having deemed him worthy of honor, nor of the love that was fitting, but only feigning toward him a small and insignificant friendship.

Then one day certain terrible and extraordinary soldiers overtake him, hastening with great speed to bring him before the king, to render account for a debt of ten thousand talents.

And he, being sore pressed, sought a helper, one able to assist him in the dread reckoning before the king.

Running, then, to his first friend, the truest of all, he says:

"You know, O friend, how I have always laid down my soul on your behalf;

and now I have need of help on this day of the necessity that grips me.

How much, then, do you promise to help me now? And what hope may I gain from you, dearest one?" And he answered and said:

"I am not your friend, man;

for I have other dear ones, with whom I must make merry today, and win them as friends for the time to come.

But behold, I give you two rags, that you may have these on the road you travel — which will profit you nothing at all."

and do not expect any other hope from me.

Having heard these things, that man, and having despaired of the help he had hoped for from him, went to the other friend, and said:

Do you remember, O companion, how much honor and goodwill you enjoyed from me?

But today, having fallen into affliction and the greatest misfortune, I am in need of a helper.

How much then are you able to labor with me? Let me know at once.

I have no leisure today to contend together with you;

for I too, having fallen into cares and circumstances, am in affliction.

Nevertheless, I will accompany you a little, even though I shall be of no help to you;

and, having returned home quickly, I shall be occupied with my own cares.

So the man, having returned empty-handed from there too, and being at a loss on every side, bewailed himself for the vain hope he had placed in his ungrateful friends, and for the profitless hardships he had endured for the sake of love toward them.

He then goes to his third friend, whom he had never courted, nor ever invited to share in his joy;

and he speaks to him with a face ashamed and downcast:

I have no mouth to open toward you, knowing full well that you do not remember me ever having done you good, or having been kindly disposed toward you.

But since a most grievous misfortune has overtaken me, and from none of my other friends did I find any hope of safety, I have come to you, beseeching you, if you have the power, to provide me with some small help.

Do not therefore refuse, being angered at my ingratitude.

And he says, with a cheerful and gracious countenance:

Yes indeed, I confess you to be my most genuine friend;

and, remembering that small kindness of yours, I shall today repay you with interest.

Fear not, then, nor be afraid;

for I will go before you, I will entreat the king on your behalf, and I will by no means hand you over into the hands of your enemies.

Take courage, then, most beloved, and do not grieve.

Then that man, pierced with compunction, said with tears:

Woe is me, what shall I first lament, and what shall I first weep for? Shall I condemn my vain attachment toward those unmindful, ungrateful, and false friends? Or shall I bewail the senseless ingratitude which I showed toward this true and genuine friend? And Ioasaph, having received this discourse also with wonder, sought its clarification.

The first friend would be the abundance of wealth and the love of money, on account of which a man falls into countless dangers, and endures many hardships;

but when the final appointed time of death comes, he takes nothing from all those things, except the useless rags for his burial.

The second friend is called wife and children and the rest of one's relatives and household, to whose attachment we cling inseparably, disregarding even the soul and body itself for the sake of love for them;

yet no one derives any benefit from them at the hour of death;

but only accompany him as far as the tomb, following along; then, immediately turning back, they occupy themselves with their own cares and circumstances, covering the memory with forgetfulness no less than they covered the body of the once beloved one with the grave.

The third friend, in turn, the one overlooked and burdensome, not approached but avoided and as it were shunned, is the choir of the best works, such as faith, hope, love, almsgiving, love of mankind, and the rest of the company of the virtues, which is able to go before us when we depart from the body, to entreat the Lord on our behalf, and to deliver us from our enemies,

redeeming us also from the terrible tax-gatherers, who set in motion against us a bitter reckoning in the air, and seek fiercely to seize us.

This is the grateful and good friend, who bears in memory even our small good deed and repays it to us in full with interest.

Then Ioasaph again said, May it go well with you from the Lord God, O wisest of men,

for you have gladdened my soul with your fitting and excellent words.

Therefore, depict for me yet again an image of the vanity of the world, and how one might pass through it in peace and safety.

And Barlaam, taking up the discourse, said, Hear also a likeness of this very problem.

I have learned of a certain great city, whose citizens had of old such a custom: to seize upon some stranger and unknown man, who knew nothing at all of the city's laws and traditions, and to set him up as king for themselves, enjoying every authority and holding to his own wishes without hindrance, until the completion of a year's time.

Then, suddenly, while he was in complete freedom from care, luxuriating and living extravagantly without fear, and supposing that the kingdom would continue with him forever, they would rise up against him, and, stripping him of the royal robe, and parading him naked throughout the whole city in triumph, would send him into exile on a certain great island situated far away, where, having no abundance of food or clothing, he was terribly worn away by hunger and nakedness, the luxury and gladness given to him beyond expectation being changed once more into grief, beyond all hope and expectation.

Now, according to the custom that had followed among those citizens, a certain man was appointed to the kingship, having his understanding richly adorned with great wisdom, who, not being immediately carried away by the prosperity that had suddenly befallen him, nor emulating the carefree ease of those who had previously reigned and been wretchedly cast out, kept his soul full of care and anxious as to how he might arrange his affairs well.

And having, by constant reflection, examined the matter closely, he learned, through a certain most wise counselor, the custom of the citizens, and the place of the perpetual exile;

and he was taught unerringly how he must secure himself.

So when he learned these things, and that he must very soon arrive at that island, and must again leave this acquired and foreign kingdom to others who were foreign to him, he opened his treasuries, of which he had until then free and unhindered use, and taking a multitude of goods—gold and silver and a very great mass of precious stones—he entrusted them to most faithful servants, and sent them on ahead to that island to which he was destined to be led away.

And when the appointed year was completed, the citizens rose up and sent him, naked as those before him, into exile.

Now the other foolish and temporary kings suffered terribly from hunger;

but he, having laid up beforehand that wealth, lived on in continual abundance and had luxury without expense, and, having entirely shaken off fear of the disorderly and wicked citizens, blessed himself for his most wise counsel.

Understand, then, the city to be for me this vain and deceitful world, and the citizens to be the rulers and authorities of the demons, the world-rulers of the darkness of this age, who entice us with the smoothness of pleasure, and induce us to think of perishable and precarious things as though they were imperishable, as if the enjoyment of these things that coexist with us would endure with us forever and immortally.

So then, while we are thus deceived, and have taken no thought at all concerning those abiding and eternal things, nor have laid up anything for ourselves for the life beyond, the sudden destruction of death comes upon us.

Then indeed, then, the wicked and bitter citizens of darkness, receiving us naked of the things of this world, as those who have spent the whole of our time on them, lead us away into a dark and gloomy land, into a land of darkness

eternal, where there is no light, nor is the life of mortals to be seen.

And as for the good counselor, who made known all the truth and taught the saving practices to the understanding and most wise king, take my own humble lowliness to be he, who have come to show you the good and unerring way, leading you toward the eternal and unending things and counseling you to lay up everything there, and leading you away from this deceitful world, which I too once unhappily loved, and to whose delights and pleasures I clung.

And having perceived with the unerring eyes of the mind how, amid these things, the whole life of men is worn away, with some things coming into being and others passing away, and nothing having stability or steadfastness—neither the rich in their wealth, nor the powerful in their strength, nor the wise in their wisdom, nor again the prosperous in their prosperity, nor the luxurious in their extravagance, nor those who seem to live securely in their vain and utterly powerless security, nor in any other of the things praised here—but the matter resembles the immeasurable course of torrents falling into the depth of the sea (for all present things are thus fluid and transient), I understood that all such things are vain and there is no benefit from them; but, just as all former things have been hidden by forgetfulness—whether you should speak of glory, or kingship, or the splendors of dignities, or the weight of power, or the boldness of tyrants, or anything of this sort—so also present things will be obscured in the succeeding and later times.

Being one of these myself, I too shall assuredly fall under the usual alteration, and just as those before me were not permitted to enjoy present things forever, so shall it also be with me.

For I have seen what things this tyrannical and turbulent world works upon men, shifting them this way and that—some from wealth to poverty, others from poverty to glory—withdrawing these from life, and again bringing others in their place, rejecting some who are wise and understanding, making the honored and distinguished dishonored and worthless, while seating others, unwise and without understanding, upon a throne of glory, and displaying to all as honored those who were dishonored and obscure.

And one can see that the race of men has no standing whatsoever before the face of its harsh tyranny;

but, just as when a dove, fleeing an eagle or a hawk, changes places from place to place, now to this tree, again to that bush, then immediately dashing itself against the crevices of rocks and all manner of thorns, and finding nowhere a safe refuge, is wretchedly afflicted in constant tossing and agitation, so are those who are terrified by present things, laboring wretchedly under an irrational impulse, having nothing at all firm or secure, not even knowing to what end they come, and where this vain life leads them, to which they have subjected themselves most unhappily and wretchedly, choosing evil things instead of good, and pursuing wickedness instead of goodness—or who is it that inherits the cold fruits of their many and toilsome labors, whether kinsman or stranger;

and often not even a friend at all or an acquaintance, but an enemy and a foe.

Having discerned all these things, and what follows from them, in the tribunal of my soul, I hated my whole life which had been spent in vanities, which I had passed away wasting myself in labors concerning the earth.

And as I cast off from my soul the attachment to these things and threw it away, the things truly good became manifest to me: to fear God and to do His will.

For this I recognized to be the sum of all good things;

this is also called both the beginning of wisdom and wisdom made perfect;

for it is a life without grief and unharmed for those who hold fast to it, and secure for those who lean upon it as upon the Lord.

Having then fixed my thought upon the most unerring way of the commandments

of the Lord, and having known precisely that nothing crooked or twisted exists in it, nor is it filled with ravines and crags, thorns and thistles, but that it is entirely smooth and level, delighting the eyes of those who journey it with the most radiant visions, and adorning their feet, and putting on them the preparation of the gospel of peace, for walking securely and swiftly;

this way I justly preferred above all others, and I began to build up the fallen and ruined house of my soul.

While I was thus disposing of my own affairs and correcting the unsteadiness of my mind, I heard the words of a certain wise teacher, crying out such things to me:

Come out, he said, all you who desire to be saved;

separate yourselves from the vanity of the world;

for its fashion passes away in but a little while, and behold, it shall be no more.

Come out without turning back, yet not empty-handed and without reward, but carrying provisions of eternal life;

for you are about to walk a long road, which has need of many provisions from here.

And you shall arrive at the eternal place, having two regions, each containing within itself many dwellings, of which God prepared the one for those who love Him and keep His commandments, filled with all manner of good things, in which those who are deemed worthy shall live forever in incorruption, enjoying imperishable immortality, where pain, sorrow, and sighing have fled away;

But the second, being full of darkness and affliction and pain, has been prepared for the devil and his angels, into which shall also be cast those who through evil works have procured this for themselves, who have exchanged the incorruptible and eternal things for the present, and have made themselves wholly food for the eternal fire.

Having heard this voice and recognized its truthfulness, I made it my task to attain that lodging which is free from all pain and grief, and is full of such great security and such good things—the knowledge of which is now but partial in me, since I am yet an infant in spiritual age, and see the things there as through mirrors and riddles;

but when that which is perfect is come, and I shall know face to face, then that which is in part shall be done away.

I thank God, therefore, through Jesus Christ our Lord;

for the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set me free from the law of sin and death, and has opened my eyes to see without error that the mind of the flesh is death, but the mind of the spirit is life and peace.

And just as I, having recognized the vanity of present things, hated them with a perfect hatred, so also I counsel you to know concerning these things, that you may regard them as things alien to you and swiftly passing away, and having taken all things away from here, may treasure up for yourself in the incorruptible age a treasure that cannot be plundered, a wealth that cannot be spent, whither you must go without delay, so that, when you depart, you shall not be in want, but laden with riches, just as I set forth for you above the most fitting image of these things.

And Ioasaph says to the elder:

How then shall I be able to send treasures of money and wealth on ahead there, so that when I depart I may find their enjoyment unplundered and imperishable? And how shall I show my hatred toward present things, and lay hold of the eternal things? Explain this to me very clearly.

The sending of this wealth ahead to the eternal place is accomplished through the hands of the poor.

For one of the prophets, Daniel the most wise, says to the king of Babylon:

Therefore, O king, let my counsel be pleasing to you;

and redeem your sins with alms, and your iniquities with mercy to the poor.

Make for yourselves friends by means of the mammon of unrighteousness, so that, when you fail, they may receive you into the eternal tabernacles.

And the Master makes much discourse, here and there, concerning almsgiving and the sharing of goods with the poor, as it is in the Gospel.

Thus, then, you will most securely send everything on ahead there, by the hands of those in need;

for whatsoever you do to these, the Master, appropriating it to himself, will repay you many times over;

for he always surpasses those who love him in the returns of his gifts.