Letters 1 part 5/17

Proportionately, humility grows together with fear; and before humility all the passions retreat; and together with them, too, the phalanx of demons [...] has been driven away, and all the virtues are seen following in a circle around her as around a queen, like guards and friends and handmaids of their mistress.

And when these have been gathered together and united with one another, in their midst, like a tree planted by streams of water, your fear, having been planted, blossoms, and little by little shows me a strange flower.

O my Christ, a strange flower!

And it makes those who have acquired it continually downcast, as slaves, as deserving of many blows, as expecting hour by hour the cutting-off of death, and beholding the scythe, [...] not knowing the hour, and having no hope, nor yet full assurance of complete forgiveness, but trembling at the end, but shuddering at the close, as bearing about, uncertain, my God, the verdict of that judgment.

The flower, then, which it bears, is ineffable in its appearance, and still more ineffable in its manner; for it is seen blossoming, and immediately it is hidden again — which is not a matter of nature, nor even of sequence, but is a nature above nature, surpassing every nature.

For a time it shows itself a flower beautiful beyond all telling, and it snatches my whole mind toward the vision of it, allowing me to remember nothing of those things which are wont to produce fear, but at that time it works in me a forgetfulness of all these things, and then it swiftly flies away.

But as the flower blossoms more frequently, and draws me wholly toward itself with longing, it comes to rest at last in the fruit of love.

This fruit, in turn, does not consent to be borne by the tree of fear, but rather, when it has fully ripened, then it is seen alone, apart from the tree.

For fear is not found in love at all, and yet again, it is not without fear that fruit is borne in the soul.

Truly it is a wonder beyond speech, and beyond all understanding, that a tree, with labor, blossoms and bears fruit; and this fruit of it, in turn, uproots the whole tree, and the fruit alone remains.

How the fruit can exist apart from the tree, I am wholly unable to explain; nevertheless it remains, nevertheless love exists apart from the fear that gave it birth.

Love, then, is in truth all gladness, [...] and it fills the one who possesses it with joy and delight, and casts him, in conscious perception, outside of the world — a thing which fear has no power to accomplish at all.

For being itself within the realm of visible and sensible things, how could it have the power to cast the one who possesses it far away from these, and to join him wholly, in conscious perception, to the invisible things?

But the flower, and the fruit, which fear brings forth, exist outside the world, which know how to snatch away the mind, and to lift up the soul together with it, and to cast it outside the world.

How, tell me, does love cast these things outside the world? I should like to know clearly.

These things are ineffable, as I have said; nevertheless, attend, and I will tell you: love is the Divine Spirit, a light all-working and illumining; yet it is not of the world, nor at all anything of the world, nor is it a creature — for it is uncreated, and outside all created things, uncreated in the midst of created things.

[...] For it is separate; and the uncreated does not admit of ever becoming a creature — except that, if he should wish it, this too is possible for him to do.

...of sensible, created things, the Word was seen joined to the assumed nature, as a creature.

But in taking up the creature and either concealing it, or leading it up to the height, to his own glory, he was immediately hidden, beyond speech.

This is what those men called the Master's becoming invisible — [...] though it was entirely a matter concerning themselves; for the Creator of all things, being uncontainable by all, filling all things as God, how else could he be hidden?

Will you remove the Master from one place and grant that he has come to be in another place, so as to have been hidden from the eyes of the holy Apostles?

Far from it! Do not, out of ignorance, fall into blasphemy!

But hear, if you will, the workings of love, and you shall learn how love is greater than all things!

Do you not hear the Apostle crying out?

Greater than speaking with the tongues of angels and of all men, than having all faith, so as to remove mountains, than knowing all knowledge, and the depth of the mysteries, than scattering all one's wealth and becoming poor, than even giving one's body to be burned for Christ's sake — greater than all these is love.

[...] is of no benefit at all to the one who possesses it.

Whoever, then, is deprived both of love and of all the things that have been mentioned — tell me, where will he appear, what will he do, how will he dare to call himself faithful to those who ask?

I sit in my cell, by night or by day, and love coexists with me invisibly and unknowably.

Though it is outside all created things, it is again also with all things; it is fire, it is also radiance, it becomes a cloud of light, it is made into a sun.

Being sufficiently set aflame, it flies wholly about me like a light-bearing radiance, sending forth its radiant beams to my soul and brightening my mind for me, and shows me apt for the height of contemplation, having wrought in me a faculty of sight.

This was what I said before is the flower of fear.

And my mind ran about and sought with longing to grasp the radiance that had appeared.

But it could not find it among creatures, nor was it able to get wholly outside created things, so as to grasp the uncreated and ungraspable radiance.

Yet it went about everywhere and contrived to see; it searched out the air, it roamed the heavens, it traversed the abysses, and, as it seemed, sought out the very ends of the world.

But in all these it found nothing, for all are created things; and I lamented and mourned, and my inward parts burned, and, having become as one out of my senses in ecstasy, I passed my time thus.

Then it came, as it willed, and, falling upon me like the form of a luminous cloud, it was seen sitting wholly upon my head, and made me cry out, seized as I was with amazement.

Yet again, tearing itself away, it left me alone; and as I sought it laboriously, suddenly it was found again wholly within me, knowably, and in the midst of my heart it was seen as a luminary, truly as the very disc of the sun.

It stripped my mind bare and clothed me with a garment of noetic conscious perception; it separated me from visible things and joined me to invisible things, and granted me to see the uncreated one and to rejoice, because I was separated from all created and visible and swiftly perishing things, and was united to the uncreated, the incorruptible, the unoriginate, the one invisible to all; for this is what love is.

Let us who are slothful be roused, so that we may become masters of love and rather partakers of it, and thus pass on from the things here, that together with it we may stand before the Creator and Master, having become, with it, outside of visible things!

But if not, being ourselves like a creature among visible things and creatures, let us be left behind in fire and Tartarus and dreadful places of punishment, found without it — without love, I mean.

But if it is even possible to be saved without it, O my Christ, how could this be at all?

If we are separated from the light, how shall we flee the darkness?

If we are deprived of joy, how shall we be rid of sorrow?

Being outside the bridal chamber, how could we possibly rejoice at all?

Having fallen from the kingdom — I mean the vision of you, O Savior — what other salvation, what consolation, or in what other place could we possibly be found?

Truly nowhere at all, even if it should seem so to some, foolishly; for whoever says this is a fool.

But perhaps someone will answer and say this: How is it that, outside the kingdom, outside the bridal chamber and the chorus of the righteous, there will not be another place of salvation or rest?

"Fool," said love, "do you not hear that Adam, your forefather, having transgressed a single commandment in paradise, was stripped bare of divine glory, and Eve with him were immediately exiled from paradise, having received in exchange for pleasure — alas — death, wretchedly, and a life full of sweat and toils, woe is me, and were justly appointed by him both to live and to die?"

Understand it thus for me also, when the judgment shall take place: that whoever is found truly stripped bare of divine glory, as that man was, will immediately be driven out of paradise — yes indeed — and of the kingdom and the heavenly bridal chamber.

Even if he has no sin, but is without virtues, he stands there stripped bare.

But of all virtues, love is truly the first, the queen and the mistress.

It is the head of all things, and garment, and glory.

But without a head, the body is both dead and without breath.

And how will a body without a garment not be naked?

Virtues without love are stale and useless; and whoever does not have love, even if he has all the virtues, is naked of divine glory and stands stripped bare, and, not able to bear his nakedness, prefers rather to hide.

For he has shame as one who indeed has it, and condemnation as well, and hears from the judge of all: "I do not know you."

The Creator came upon the earth, took a soul and flesh, and gave the Divine Spirit, which is love.

If, then, you wish, and if you will, to receive the Divine Spirit, believe in God perfectly, likewise deny yourself, take up the cross upon your shoulders without hesitation, and you will receive it; die in your resolve, my child, so that you may become a partaker of immortal life!

Hear the words of God, hear the Apostles, hear the teachers who are set over the church — hear what Christ cries out every hour.

"Rivers of the divine fountain, of ever-living water, shall flow out of the belly of those who believe in me." In saying this water, what does he mean if not the grace of the Spirit?

And he blesses the pure in heart, saying that these shall see God here, in this life.

And all the Apostles and teachers proclaim from this present life onward that we must receive both the Spirit and Christ himself, if indeed we are to be saved.

Hear the voices of the Master, hear the words of the Word, how he shows that men receive the kingdom of heaven from this present life onward.

"It is likened," he says, "to a pearl of great price." Now hearing "pearl," what then do you suppose it is?

Do you say this is a stone, either held at all, or seen to some degree?

For it is in fact intelligible. But the merchant who found it — tell me now, how did he find it, if it is ungraspable, if it happens to be invisible?

Where then did he find it at all? How did he perceive it? Teach me.

And how, having sold everything, did he purchase that which he had not found, which he had not seen, which he did not have in his hands, but had not even taken into his bosom?

But the Master did not say, as you suppose, that he sold his possessions in hopes of finding it, nor in hopes of obtaining it.

Why do you go astray, why do you lean upon vain hopes?

Why also, having been persuaded, do you wish in vain to become the cause of ruin for others, and of severe punishment for yourselves?

Rather, he counsels you first to find the pearl, and, having beheld it as being priceless, then to sell everything and buy it for yourself; but you speak of it in terms of hopes, and thereby show yourself as one unwilling to sell your possessions and take up the kingdom of heaven, which the Master said is within you, if you are willing.

But perhaps you are poor, and possess no gold, nor property, nor wealth, and, hearing that the priceless pearl is bought by selling all one's possessions, you say: "How then, having no property, shall I be able to acquire this divine and beautiful pearl?"

Concerning this, then, I urge you to listen with understanding.

You yourself will become poor, and if you suppose that what you have paid down is a wholly equivalent price, saying: "Give me the pearl, for I have given all that is mine!"

you will straightway hear this from the Master as you speak: "What do you mean, all that is yours?"

You came forth naked from your mother's womb, and naked you will surely enter the tomb again.

And you will not receive the pearl, nor will you receive the kingdom.

But if you scatter all your possessions entirely, or are exceedingly poor, and come forward saying thus: "Behold, Savior, now my heart and my soul, crushed and terribly tormented and violently burning!"

Behold, Master, me naked; behold me in dire straits, a stranger to every virtue, and utterly poor in these things, and having nothing to give in payment for you, O Word, and have mercy on me, my only long-suffering God.

For what worthy thing shall I find in the world, O my God, which I might give in payment to you, who made all things?

For what did the harlot give? And what did the thief provide? And the prodigal, my Christ, what wealth did he bring to you?

Come to me along with these, and I will straightway show you the very pearl that they received, and you will rejoice; and even if you give your very soul, you will consider nothing worthy, you will reckon as worthy nothing at all of what you have paid down.

For I, if you come to me as the harlot came to me, surely have authority, surely have pearls, which, should the world take them — and, together with this world, countless myriads of other worlds — not one single pearl from my treasures would fail; and I will grant you a gift as well, as I granted to her.

These things God will tell you, and will teach how the thief approached, and how the harlot approached — they who are celebrated in song in the world — and how the prodigal, having turned back at once, was received.

But what account could possibly set forth the harlot's longing, which she bore in her heart as she came to me as God and Master of things visible and invisible, and offered it richly as no one had done up to that time — which, when I beheld it, I accepted?

And I did not take away her longing, but, having given her the pearl, I left her the longing as well; rather, I even kindled it further and raised it into a great flame, and I sent her away more chaste than virgins.

For suddenly, having crossed over the whole law as if it were a wall, or having risen above all the virtues as if they were a ladder, she arrived at the end of the law, which is love, and she departed keeping it unwounded to the very end.

And the prodigal likewise, having turned back from his heart, repented knowingly; and though he had formerly been my son, he did not approach as my son, but asked to become as one of my hired servants.

And he spoke not with his mouth only, but with his soul as well, and by his deeds he demonstrated what he said in words.

He came near to me in soul, in that he did not, as many do this, turn his mind back at all.

Thus, then, if anyone should come to me and fall before me genuinely — let all creation hear!

But whoever wishes to receive my grace with deceit, and should come with hypocrisy, or having wickedness within, or trusting in his own works, held fast by arrogance or envy, has no share at all with me, Christ.

These things God cries out to you and to all, through us, every hour.

And if you wish, I will also show you clearly here from other witnesses, that you must receive the kingdom of heaven wholly, if you wish also to enter into it after the end of life.

Hear God again speaking to you in parables: "To what then shall I liken the kingdom of heaven?"

"It is like — take heed — a grain of mustard seed, which a certain man took and cast into his garden, and it sprouted and truly became a great tree." Tell me, then, you who hear, what is this seed?

What do you think this is?

— the grain of the kingdom of heaven, for you.

This grain is the grace of the Divine Spirit, and the garden is the heart of each of men, wherein he who has received the Spirit casts it within and hides it in the recesses of his inward parts, so that no one sees it, and guards it with all exactness, that it may sprout, that it may become a tree and ascend into heaven.

If then you say, "Not here, but after the end all who ardently love it will receive the kingdom," you overturn the words of our Savior and God.

For if you do not receive the grain — the grain of mustard of which he spoke — if you do not cast it into your garden, you remain altogether without seed.

But if you should indeed receive the seed, and yet choke it with thorns, or betray it to the birds so that they snatch away the grain, or through negligence leave your garden unwatered so that your seed does not sprout, does not put forth shoots, does not bear fruit — tell me, what benefit will the seed be to you?

But when, if not here, will you at another time receive the seed?

"After death," you might say to me — but you err from what is reasonable. In what garden then will you hide it, I ask you, and with what labors will you tend it, that it may sprout?

For this present time is for works, but the age to come is for crowns. "Here, take the pledge," said the Master, "here receive the seal."

From this moment light the lamp of your soul, before it grows dark, before the gates of labor are shut.

If indeed you are prudent, here I become for you a pearl, and am purchased; here I am to you as wheat, and as a grain of mustard; here I become leaven for you, and leaven your dough; here I am to you as water, and I become also a sweetening fire; here I become for you also a garment, and food, and every drink — if you will, I become for you.

If then, from these things here, you come to know me as such, you will have me there also, becoming for you all things ineffably; but if you depart not knowing the workings of my grace, there you will find me only as a judge without compassion.

...of your bridal chamber of glory, beholding you, my God, unto ages of ages. Amen.

Teaching, together with theology, on the workings of holy love, that is, of the very light of the Holy Spirit.

Who, Master, will have the strength to tell of you?

Those who are ignorant go astray, knowing nothing at all; but those who have come to recognize your divinity in faith are held fast by great fear, and are struck with trembling amazement, and have nothing to say — for you are above mind; all things are incomprehensible, all your works are unattainable to understanding, and so are your glory and the knowledge of you.

That you are one, we know, and we see your light; but of what sort and what kind you are, we are all ignorant.

Yet we have hope, and we hold fast to faith, and we know the love which you have granted us — boundless, ineffable, contained nowhere, being light, unapproachable light, light that works all things.

This is a sun that never sets, for those exalted in divine things; this is an ever-shining star, for those who can contain no more; this stands opposed to grief, this drives away envy, and utterly makes vanish satanic jealousy.

This at first melts and refines, purifying; it drives away thoughts and restrains movements.

This, when it hides itself, teaches humility, and does not allow one to be dissipated, nor to wander at all.

This again, when it appears, separates one from the visible world, and brings about forgetfulness of all the griefs of life.

This also nourishes abundantly, and heals thirst, and grants strength to those who labor well.

This quenches anger and the boiling of the heart, and does not allow one to be angry or disturbed at all.

And it is sought from the heart with much love; but having turned, appeared, and shone in loving-kindness, it turns away from those who pursue it, and makes itself withdraw, and that which was so greatly sought sends itself away in fear, as one unworthy of the good that is above all creation.

O gift! O divine and ineffable grace-gift!

For what does it not accomplish, and what is it not?

This is delight and joy, gentleness and peace, mercy beyond number, an abyss of compassion; invisible, yet seen; containable, yet uncontainably so; untouched, impalpable — yet held fast within my mind.

Possessing this, I do not see it clearly; but as I gaze upon it, it swiftly slips away, and I rush to seize it, yet it flies off entirely.

I am utterly at a loss and I burn, and I learn to ask and to seek with weeping, in much humility, and not to suppose that things beyond nature are possible by my own strength and human diligence, but by the compassion of God and his boundless mercy.

This appears for a little while and then withdraws — and one by one it casts the passions out of the heart.

For a man cannot conquer the passions unless this comes to his aid; nor again does it drive out all of them at once.

For the natural man cannot suddenly make room to receive the whole Spirit and become free from passion, but only when he has, to the extent of his power, accomplished all things: nakedness, freedom from attachment, separation from what is his own, the cutting off of the will, and renunciation of the world, endurance of temptations, and prayer and mourning, plainness, humility — as much as lies within his strength.

Then, a little, like a faint and very slight radiance, suddenly encircling the mind, it snatches it up into ecstasy, and quickly withdraws, lest the mind should die — so that, in its great swiftness, it does not even allow the one who has seen it to comprehend it, or permit him to remember its beauty, lest an infant should eat the food of perfect men and immediately burst, or be harmed and vomit it up.

and it makes me perceive this within my heart.

But when I have wept greatly and wished to stop, then, coming mystically, it takes hold of the crown of my head, and I am overwhelmed with tears, not knowing what it is, and it illumines my mind with an exceedingly sweet light.

But when I come to know what it is, it flies away swiftly, leaving me the fire of its divine longing, which does not allow me to laugh, or to look toward men, nor to admit longing for any of the things that are seen.

When, then, I acquire this and become humble, then she too is with me inseparably: she speaks with me, illumines me, beholds me, whom I also behold.

She is in my heart, she exists in heaven; she interprets the Scriptures for me and adds knowledge to me, she teaches me mysteries which I have no power to utter; she shows me from the world how she snatched me away, and commands me to show mercy to all who are in the world.

Walls therefore enclose me, and I am held fast by the body, and yet I am truly outside these things — do not disbelieve!

I do not perceive knockings, nor do I hear voices, nor do I fear death, for I have passed beyond this also.

I do not know what affliction is, even though all should grieve me; pleasures are bitterness to me, all passions flee, and I see light continually, in night and in day.

Day appears to me as night, and night is day to me, and I do not wish to sleep, for this is a loss to me.

I fully enjoy that ineffable and divine joy, I delight in her beauty, I embrace her often, I kiss her tenderly and worship her; I hold great gratitude toward those who procured for me to see her, whom I had longed for, and to partake of the ineffable light, and to become light, and to share in its gift from this time forward, and to acquire the giver of all good things, and to become lacking in nothing of the spiritual gifts.

Who guided and drew me toward these good things? Who brought me up out of the depth of worldly deceit?

Who separated me from father and brothers and friends, from kinsmen, and from pleasures and the joy of the world?

Who showed me the way of repentance and mourning, whereby I have found the day that has no end?

He was an angel, not a man; and yet he is a man, by whom the world is mocked and the dragon is trampled underfoot, and the demons tremble at his presence.

How shall I tell you, brother, the wonders and marvels which I saw, wrought by him, in Egypt?

For now I will tell you this one thing, for I cannot tell you everything.

For he came down and found me a slave and a sojourner, and said: "Come, my child, I will lead you away to God!"

But I said to him, out of great unbelief: "And what sign will you show me, to assure me that you yourself are able to deliver me out of Egypt and snatch me from the hands of deceitful Pharaoh, lest by following you I fall into greater danger?"

"Kindle," he said, "a great fire, that I may enter its midst; and if I do not remain unburned, do not follow me!"

His word astonished me; I did what was commanded.

And the flame blazed up, and he stood in its midst, unharmed and unscathed, and he called me to come also.

"I am afraid," I said, "Master, I am a sinner!"

He came out, came to me, and embraced me: "Why were you afraid," he said to me, "why do you cower and tremble?"

"I was amazed," I said, "Lord; I do not dare to draw near to you, nor do I wish to appear bolder than the fire itself; for indeed I see you to be a man beyond man, and I do not even dare to look at you, whom the fire itself revered."

...and he himself, wholly, gave off the fragrance of immortality.

I believed, I came to love following him, and I longed to become the slave of him alone.

Pharaoh held me fast; the harsh taskmasters forced me to attend to brick and straw. Alone I had not the strength to flee, for indeed I had no weapons.

Moses spoke to God to do what was expedient; God scourges Egypt with tenfold plagues, and yet Pharaoh was not bent, nor did he release me. Then indeed his spiritual father intercedes, and God hearkens, and tells his servant to take me by the hand, and promises to journey together with us, delivering me from Pharaoh and from the evils of Egypt; and he instilled courage into my heart, and granted me boldness not to fear Pharaoh.

Thus indeed the workman of God did: he took hold of my hand, going before me, and so we began to accomplish the journey.

The king of Egypt learned of the departure; and since he despised it as the deed of one man, he himself did not come out, but sent slaves whom he held under treaty.

They ran, they caught up within the borders of Egypt; all turned back empty-handed, all shattered; they broke their swords, they spent their arrows, their hands, working against us, were unstrung, and we remained, having suffered no harm.

The pillar of fire burned, the cloud too was present, and we alone passed through in a foreign land, in the midst of brigands, in the midst of many nations and kings.

The king also learned of his people's defeat; he was enraged, and considered it a great disgrace to be mocked and defeated by one man.

He yoked his chariots, gathered his people, and pursued in person, boasting greatly.

But I lay there laughing, and armed myself with prayer, and with the sign of the cross I beat them all back; and not daring to touch me or come near me, standing somewhere far off, they thought to terrify me, holding fire in their hands they threatened to burn me; they shouted greatly and made great din, and — lest they should boast of accomplishing something great — through the intercessions of my spiritual father they saw me become light, and at once they withdrew together, put to shame.

Moses came forth from God, and found me bold, full of joy, and trembling from the wonder-working.

He asked what had happened; I told him everything: that Pharaoh, king of Egypt, had come now with a countless host, and was not able to bind me, but wished to burn me, and all who came with him became a flame, and they shot forth fire against me from their mouths.

And that: seeing me having become light through your prayers, they all became darkness, and now I am alone.

Take heed, Moses answered me, and do not take courage, nor look at what is manifest; fear rather what is hidden!

Thus God commands, and Christ will fight against the Egyptians on our behalf.

Let us go, Lord, I said, I will not be separated from you, I will not transgress your commandment, but I will keep them all; amen.

Teaching, together with theology, in which also concerning the priesthood, together with contemplation free from passion.

(...) How shall I tell out, Master, your wonderful and strange things? How shall I recount in word the depths of your judgments, which you accomplish each day in us, your servants?

How do you overlook the countless multitude of my failings, and do not reckon, Master, my evil deeds, but have mercy on me and shelter me and illumine me and nourish me as one who fulfills all your commandments, my Savior?

...of glory and power and majesty; you converse with me and speak words of immortality to me, the weak and lowly one, unworthy even to live.

How do you make radiant my soul, which is defiled, and render it light, both undefiled and divine?

How do you make my wretched hands, which I defiled with the stains of sin by sinning, bearers of radiance?

How do you transform my lips with the radiance of your divinity, refashioning them from unclean into holy?

And my filthy tongue, Christ, how do you cleanse it, and by the chewing of your flesh make it a partaker of you?

How do you deem me worthy both to see and to be seen by me, and to be held in my hands — you who hold all things together, you who are beheld by no order of the heavens (...), and unapproachable even to Moses, the first among the prophets?