The Conferences 16.10–17.3

“For I remember that when my younger age still urged me to cling to a companion, ideas of this kind often occurred to us, either in moral teaching or in the Holy Scriptures, so that we believed nothing truer or more reasonable than they. But when we came together and began to put forward our opinions, some of them, examined together, were first noted as false and harmful by the other, and soon, declared pernicious by our common judgment, were condemned; yet at first, poured in by the devil, they had shone as if with light to such a degree that they could easily have produced discord, had not a precept of the elders, kept like a divine oracle, called us back from all contention. By it they laid down, as by a kind of legal sanction, that neither of us should trust his own judgment more than his brother’s, if he never wished to be deceived by the cunning of the devil.

“For it has often been proved that what the apostle says happens: “For Satan himself transforms himself into an angel of light,” so as to spread deceitfully a dark and foul fog of ideas in place of the true light of knowledge. Unless these ideas are received with a humble and gentle heart and kept for the examination of a very mature brother or a most approved elder, and, carefully sifted by their judgment, are either rejected or accepted by us, we shall without doubt be struck with a most grievous ruin, venerating in our thoughts the angel of darkness in place of the angel of light. It is impossible for anyone who trusts his own judgment to escape this destruction, unless, becoming a lover and doer of true humility, he fulfils with all contrition of heart what the apostle earnestly begs: “If there is any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any compassion and mercy, fulfil my joy, that you may be of the same mind, having the same love, of one accord, thinking the same thing, doing nothing through contention or vainglory, but in humility each counting the other better than himself,” and this: “in honor preferring one another”; so that each, ascribing more knowledge and holiness to his companion, may believe that the sum of true discernment rests in the other’s judgment rather than his own.

“For it often happens, either through the delusion of the devil or through the intrusion of human error, by which there is no one in this flesh who, being human, cannot be deceived, that sometimes one who is of keener mind and greater knowledge conceives something false, while one who is of slower mind and less merit perceives something more rightly and truly. And therefore let no one, however learned, persuade himself with empty conceit that he has no need of conferring with another. For even if the devil’s delusion does not deceive his judgment, he will not escape the more grievous snares of elation and pride. For who could claim this for himself without great ruin, when the vessel of election, in whom Christ, as he himself declared, was speaking, asserts that he went up to Jerusalem only for this purpose, to confer in private examination with his fellow apostles about the gospel which he was preaching to the Gentiles by the Lord’s revelation and cooperation? By this it is shown that by these precepts not only are unanimity and concord preserved, but all the snares of the opposing devil and the traps of his delusions need not be feared.

“Finally, the virtue of love is exalted so far that the blessed apostle John declares it to be not only a thing of God but even God, saying: “God is love; he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him.” For we perceive that it is so divine that we feel most plainly that saying of the apostle to be in force in us: “For the love of God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who dwells in us.” This is as if he said: “For God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who dwells in us.” He also, when we do not know what we ought to pray for, “intercedes for us with groanings that cannot be uttered; and he who searches the hearts knows what the Spirit desires, because he intercedes for the saints according to God.”

“That love, then, which is called agapē, can be shown to all. Of it the blessed apostle says: “So then, while we have time, let us do good to all, but especially to those of the household of faith.” It must be shown to all in general to such a degree that we are commanded by the Lord to give it even to our enemies: “Love your enemies,” he says. But diathesis, that is, affection, is shown to very few, and to those who are joined by likeness of character or fellowship in virtues; although this diathesis itself seems to have great differences within it. For parents are loved in one way, spouses in another, brothers in another, children in another; and even within the bond of these affections there is a great distance, nor is the love of parents toward their children found to be uniform. This is proved by the example of the patriarch Jacob, who, though he was the father of twelve sons and loved them all with a father’s love, yet loved Joseph with a special affection, so that Scripture records of him openly: “But his brothers envied him, because his father loved him”; not, of course, that that just man and father did not greatly love the rest of his offspring too, but that he clung to this one more sweetly and indulgently in his affection, because he bore the figure of the Lord. We read that this is most plainly indicated also of John the evangelist, when it is said of him: “that disciple whom Jesus loved,” although he certainly embraced the other eleven, chosen in the same way, with such special love that he indicates this too by the testimony of the gospel, saying: “As I have loved you, so you also love one another”; and of them it is said elsewhere: “Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” But this love of one did not express a lukewarmness of love toward the other disciples, but a more generous superabundance of love toward this one, which the privilege of virginity and the incorruption of his flesh conferred on him. It is therefore marked as more sublime by a kind of exception, because it is exalted not by comparison with hatred but by the more abundant grace of an overflowing love. Something of this kind we read also in the Song of Songs, in the person of the bride, who says: “Set love in order in me.” For this is truly love set in order, which, hating no one, loves some more by right of their merits, and which, while it loves all in general, nevertheless sets apart for itself from among them those whom it should embrace with special affection, and again, among those who are highest and foremost in its love, chooses some to be raised above the affection for the rest.

“On the other hand we know (would that we did not!) that some of the brothers are of such obstinacy and hardness that, when they have felt their own feelings stirred against a brother or a brother’s against themselves, in order to hide the resentment of their mind that has arisen from indignation at the mutual disturbance, they withdraw from those whom they ought to have soothed by humble apology and conversation and begin to sing some verses of the psalms. While they think they are soothing the bitterness conceived in their heart, they increase by this insult what they could have extinguished at once, had they chosen rather to be anxious and humble, so that timely compunction might both heal their own hearts and soothe the feelings of their brothers. For in that way they flatter and nourish the vice of their faint-heartedness, or rather of their pride, instead of rooting out the tinder of quarrels, forgetful of that command of the Lord in which he says: “Whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment,” and: “If you remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there at the altar and go first to be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.”

“So far, then, does our Lord not want another’s resentment to be held in contempt that, if a brother has something against us, he will not accept our gifts, that is, he will not allow our prayers to be offered to him, until by speedy apology we remove from our brother’s mind the resentment he has conceived, justly or unjustly. For he does not say, “If your brother has a real complaint against you, leave your gift at the altar and go, first be reconciled to him,” but he says: “If you remember that your brother has something against you”; that is, even if it is something slight and trivial by which your brother’s feelings have been stirred against you, and this has struck your memory by a sudden recollection, know that you ought not to offer the spiritual gifts of your prayers unless you have first driven out of your brother’s heart, by kindly apology, the resentment that has arisen from whatever cause. If, then, the word of the gospel commands us to make amends to those who are angry even for a past and very small grudge arising from slight causes, what will become of us wretches, who with obstinate pretense disregard recent and very great causes committed by our own fault, and, puffed up with devilish swelling, while we are ashamed to be humbled, deny that we are the authors of our brother’s resentment, and, disdaining with rebellious spirit to be subject to the Lord’s commands, maintain that they by no means need to be observed or can be fulfilled? So it comes about that, judging that he has commanded impossible or unsuitable things, we become, according to the apostle, “not doers but judges of the law.”

“With what tears, too, must this be lamented: that some of the brothers, when they have been inflamed by an insulting word of anyone, and are pressed by the entreaties of someone else who wishes to soothe it, on hearing that resentment must by no means be conceived or kept against a brother, according to what is written: “Whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment,” and: “Let not the sun go down upon your anger,” at once cry out: “If some pagan or worldly man had done this or said these things, it ought rightly to be borne. But who could bear a brother who is guilty of so grave a fault, or who utters so insolent an insult from his mouth!” As if patience were to be shown only to unbelievers and the sacrilegious and not to all in general, or as if anger against a pagan were harmful but against a brother useful, when certainly the obstinate agitation of a disturbed mind does itself the same harm against whomever it is aroused. And how great an obstinacy, or rather madness, it is that with the stupor of a brutish mind they do not discern even the proper meaning of the words! For it does not say, “Everyone who is angry with a foreigner will be liable to judgment,” which perhaps, according to their understanding, could have excepted the sharers of our faith and way of life; but the word of the gospel says pointedly: “Everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment.” So although, according to the rule of truth, we ought to regard every man as a brother, yet in this place it is the believer and sharer of our way of life, rather than the pagan, who is designated by the very name of brother.

“And what of this, that sometimes we believe ourselves patient because, when provoked, we scorn to answer, but mock our brothers who are stirred up with bitter silence or with a scornful movement and gesture, so that by our silent look we provoke them to anger more than swelling insults could have done, thinking ourselves not at all guilty before God because we have uttered nothing with our mouth that could have branded or condemned us in the judgment of men? As if before God only words, and not chiefly the will, were called to account, and only the deed of sin and not also the wish and purpose were counted a crime, or as if in the judgment only what each one has done, and not also what he has intended to do, were to be examined. For not only the kind of provocation offered but also the purpose of the one who provokes is guilty; and therefore the true examination of our judge will inquire, not how a quarrel was stirred up, but by whose fault it blazed up. For the effect of the sin, not the order of its commission, must be considered. For what difference does it make whether someone killed his brother himself with a sword, or drove him to death by some fraud, when it is certain that he died by his guile or crime? As if it were enough not to have pushed a blind man over a precipice with one’s own hand, when he is equally guilty who, when he could, scorned to call back one already leaning over and on the edge of a pit; or as if only he who strangled someone with his own hand were guilty, and not also he who prepared or put on the noose, or at least, when he could, would not remove it. So silence is of no use if we impose silence on ourselves in order to do by silence what we would otherwise have done by insult, putting on certain gestures by which the one who should have been cured burns with more violent anger, while we, on top of all this, are praised for his loss and ruin; as if one were not the more guilty for this very reason, that he wished to gain glory for himself from his brother’s ruin. Such silence will be equally harmful to both, since just as it heightens resentment in the other’s heart, so it does not allow it to be extinguished in his own. Against such people that curse of the prophet is quite properly directed: “Woe to him who gives his friend drink, mixing his gall, and making him drunk, that he may look on his nakedness. He is filled with shame instead of glory.” And also what is said of such people by another: “For every brother will utterly supplant, and every friend will walk deceitfully, and a man will mock his brother, and they will not speak the truth. For they have bent their tongue like a bow of falsehood, and not of truth.” And often a pretended patience inflames to anger even more sharply than speech, and malicious silence surpasses the most atrocious insults of words, and the wounds of enemies are borne more easily than the sly flatteries of mockers. Of these it is properly said through the prophet: “His words are softer than oil, and yet they are darts,” and elsewhere: “The words of the crafty are soft, but they strike into the inner parts of the belly.” To them this too may be elegantly applied: “With his mouth he speaks peace with his friend, and secretly lays snares for him”; yet by these he who deceives is himself deceived rather. For “he who spreads a net before the face of his friend entangles his own feet in it,” and: “He who digs a pit for his neighbor will fall into it himself.” Finally, when a great multitude had come with swords and clubs to seize the Lord, no one showed himself a more bloodthirsty murderer of the author of our life than he who, anticipating all with the pretended honor of a greeting, offered the kiss of a treacherous love. To him the Lord said: “Judas, do you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?” That is: the bitterness of your persecution and hatred has taken on this covering by which the sweetness of true love is expressed. He also sets forth the force of this pain more openly and vehemently through the prophet: “For if my enemy had reviled me, I would have borne it; and if he who hated me had spoken great things against me, I would have hidden myself from him. But you, a man of one mind with me, my guide and my familiar friend, who took sweet food together with me; in the house of God we walked in agreement.”

“There is also another profane kind of resentment, which would not have been worth mentioning had we not known that it is committed by some brothers. When they are saddened or angry, they obstinately abstain even from food, so that (what we cannot say without shame) those who, when calm, say they cannot put off their meal until the sixth hour or at most the ninth, when they are filled with resentment or rage do not even feel two-day fasts, and sustain so great a lack of food by the fullness of their anger. In this they plainly incur the crime of sacrilege, enduring for the sake of devilish swelling the fasts that should be offered especially to God alone for humbling the heart and cleansing the vices. It is as if they offered prayers and sacrifices not to God but to demons, and deserved to hear that rebuke of Moses: “They sacrificed to demons and not to God, to gods whom they did not know.”

“We also know of another kind of madness, which is found in some brothers under the color of a painted patience. For them it is not enough to have stirred up quarrels unless they also provoke others to strike them with inciting words; and when they have been touched by even a slight blow, they offer another part of the body to be beaten too, as if by this they were going to fulfil perfectly that command which says: “If anyone strikes you on your right cheek, offer him the other also,” wholly ignorant of the force and purpose of Scripture. For they think they are practising gospel patience through the vice of anger, although, in order to cut out anger by the roots, not only is the retaliation of like for like and the provocation to strife forbidden, but we are even commanded to calm the fury of the one who strikes by tolerating a doubled injury.

Germanus: “How is he to be blamed who, obeying the gospel command, not only did not retaliate but was even ready for the injury to be doubled against himself?”

Joseph: “As was said a little before, we must consider not only the thing that is done but also the disposition of mind and the purpose of the one who does it. And therefore, if you weigh with the inner examination of the heart with what mind and from what disposition each thing a person does is done, you will see that the virtue of patience and gentleness can by no means be fulfilled in the opposite spirit, that is, of impatience and rage. For our Lord and Savior, teaching us the deep virtue of patience and gentleness, that is, that we should not merely display it on our lips but store it in the inmost sanctuaries of our soul, gave us this pattern of gospel perfection, saying: “If anyone strikes you on your right cheek, offer him the other also” (understood, without doubt, as the right; and this other right cheek cannot be taken except as, so to speak, on the face of the inner man). By this he wishes to root out every tinder of anger from the deep inner parts of the soul; that is, if your outer right cheek has received the blow of the striker, your inner man too should offer his right cheek to be struck by the consent of humility, suffering with the passion of the outer man and in a way yielding and submitting his own body to the striker’s injury, so that the inner man is not moved even silently within himself by the beating of the outer man. You see, then, that they are far from gospel perfection, which teaches that patience must be kept not in words but in the inner tranquillity of the heart, and commands us to guard it so, when something adverse happens, that we not only keep ourselves free from the disturbance of anger, but also, submitting to the injuries of those who have been stirred up by their own fault, compel them to calm once their appetite for striking is sated, overcoming their fury by our gentleness. And so we shall also fulfil that saying of the apostle: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” It is quite certain that this cannot be fulfilled by those who utter words of gentleness and humility in such a spirit and with such swelling that they not only do not calm the fire of rage that has been kindled, but rather make it blaze up both in their own mind and in that of the brother who has been stirred up. Yet even if they could somehow remain gentle and calm themselves, they would not reap any fruits of righteousness even so, since they claim for themselves the glory of patience at the cost of their neighbor’s loss, and by this are wholly strangers to that apostolic love which “does not seek its own,” but the things of others. For it does not desire riches in such a way as to make profit for itself from its neighbor’s loss, nor does it wish to acquire anything by another’s being stripped.

“We must know, in general, that he plays the stronger part who subjects his own will to his brother’s, rather than he who is found more obstinate in defending and holding to his own decisions. For the former, supporting and bearing with his neighbor, holds the place of one healthy and strong; the latter that of one weak and, as it were, sick, who must be humored and cared for in such a way that sometimes it is even wholesome to relax something of what is necessary for the sake of his quiet and peace. In this no one should believe that he has lessened anything of his own perfection, even if, in condescending, he has given up something of the strictness he had set himself; on the contrary, he should know that he has gained much more by the good of long-suffering and patience. For it is the apostle’s command: “You who are strong, bear the weaknesses of the weak,” and: “Bear one another’s burdens, and so you will fulfil the law of Christ.” For the weak never supports the weak, nor can one who is equally sick bear with or cure the sick; but he gives healing to the infirm who is not himself subject to infirmity. For it is rightly said to him: “Physician, heal yourself.”

“It must also be noted that the nature of the weak is always such that they are quick and ready to hurl insults and start quarrels, but themselves do not want to be touched even by the slightest suspicion of injury; and while they ride roughshod with thoughtless freedom in offering wanton insults, they are not content to bear even small and very slight ones. And therefore, according to the saying of the elders mentioned above, stable and unbroken love cannot last except between men of the same virtue and purpose. For it must be broken at some time, however carefully it is guarded by one of them.

Germanus: “In what, then, can the patience of a perfect man be praiseworthy, if it cannot always bear with the weak?”

Joseph: “I did not say that the virtue and forbearance of the one who is strong and robust will be overcome, but that the very bad condition of the weak man, nourished by the support of the one who is healthy and sliding daily into worse, will produce causes for which either he himself should no longer be borne, or else, thinking his neighbor’s patience a brand and disgrace on his own impatience, he will at some point prefer to go away rather than always be borne by another’s magnanimity. We think, then, that those who wish to keep the affection of companionship inviolate must observe these things above all. First, that when provoked by any injuries the monk should keep calm not only his lips but even the depths of his breast. But if he feels that these have been disturbed even slightly, let him hold himself in with complete silence and carefully observe what the psalmist records: “I was troubled, and I did not speak,” and: “I said: I will guard my ways, that I may not sin with my tongue. I set a guard on my mouth while the sinner stood against me. I was dumb and was humbled, and kept silence even from good things.” Let him not, considering the present state, bring out what furious rage suggests at the moment and an exasperated mind dictates, but let him either recall the grace of past love or look forward in mind to the restoring of peace to be renewed, and contemplate it, even in the very time of disturbance, as about to return at once. And while he keeps himself for the sweetness of the concord soon to come, he will not feel the bitterness of the present quarrels, and so he will answer above all with things for which, when love is restored, he could neither be guilty in his own eyes nor blamed by another; and thus he will fulfil that saying of the prophet: “In anger you will remember mercy.”

“We must therefore restrain all movements of anger and moderate them with discernment at the helm, lest we be carried away with headlong rage into what Solomon condemns: “The ungodly man brings out all his anger, but the wise man dispenses it by parts”; that is, the fool is inflamed by the disturbance of anger to avenge himself, but the wise man gradually weakens it and drives it out by the maturity of counsel and moderation. Of the same kind is what the apostle says: “Do not avenge yourselves, beloved, but give place to wrath”; that is, do not by any means move toward vengeance at anger’s compulsion, but give place to wrath, that is, let your hearts not be so narrowed by the straits of impatience and faint-heartedness that they cannot bear the violent storm of disturbance when it breaks upon them; but “be enlarged in your hearts,” receiving the hostile waves of anger in those broad bays of love which “bears all things, endures all things”; and so let your mind, enlarged by the breadth of long-suffering and patience, have within it saving recesses of counsel, in which the foulest smoke of anger, received and as it were spread out, may vanish at once. Or it may be understood thus: we give place to wrath whenever we yield with a humble and calm mind to another’s agitation and, as it were confessing ourselves deserving of any injury, give way to raging impatience. But those who bend the sense of the apostle’s perfection so as to think that those give place to wrath who go away from one who is angry seem to me not to cut off the tinder of dissensions but to feed it. For unless a neighbor’s anger is at once overcome by humble apology, one who flees provokes it rather than avoids it. Similar to this is what Solomon says: “Do not be quick in your spirit to be angry, for anger rests in the bosom of fools,” and: “Do not rush quickly into a quarrel, lest you repent at the last.” For he does not blame haste in quarreling or anger in such a way as to approve of slowness in them. Likewise we must take this: “A fool declares his anger at that very hour, but a prudent man conceals his shame.” For he does not decree that the shameful passion of anger should be hidden by the wise in such a way that, while blaming the quickness of anger, he does not forbid slowness in it; but if it breaks out through the necessity of human weakness, he judged it should be hidden so that, while it is wisely covered for the present, it may be blotted out for ever. For this is the nature of anger, that when it is given room it grows faint and perishes, but when it is let out it blazes up more and more. Our hearts, then, must be widened and enlarged, lest, narrowed by the straits of faint-heartedness, they be filled with the turbulent heats of anger, and we be unable with a narrow heart to receive that commandment of God which, according to the prophet, is “exceedingly broad,” or to say with the prophet: “I have run the way of your commandments, when you enlarged my heart.” For that long-suffering is wisdom we are taught by the clearest testimonies of Scripture: “For the long-suffering man is great in prudence, but the faint-hearted is very foolish.” And therefore Scripture records of him who laudably asked the Lord for the gift of wisdom: “And God gave Solomon wisdom and exceedingly great prudence, and breadth of heart like the sand of the sea, beyond number.”

“This too has been proved very often by many experiences: that those who have entered into the bond of friendship on the basis of a sworn compact have by no means been able to keep unbroken concord; either because they tried to keep it not out of desire for perfection nor at the command of apostolic love, but out of earthly love and through the necessity and bond of the agreement; or because that most cunning enemy, in order to make them transgressors of their oath, hastens all the more quickly to break the bonds of their friendships. That saying of the wisest men, then, is most certain: that true concord and inseparable fellowship cannot stand except between men of amended conduct and of the same virtue and purpose.” These things blessed Joseph set out about friendship in his spiritual discourse, and he stirred us more ardently to keep the lasting love of our companionship.

When, then, the previous conference was over, and the silence of night had come between, we were brought by the holy Abba Joseph to a separate cell to rest. But since his words had kindled a kind of fire in our hearts, we spent the whole night sleepless, and, leaving the cell and going about a hundred paces from it, we sat down in a more remote place. So, since the darkness of night gave us the opportunity of a private and familiar conversation, as soon as we sat down Abba Germanus, groaning deeply, said:

“What shall we do? For we see ourselves in great danger and bound in a most wretched condition. Reason itself and the way of life of the saints teach us effectively what is more wholesome for progress in the spiritual life, but the promise given to our elders does not allow us to choose what is expedient. For we could have been formed to a more perfect life and purpose by the examples of such great men, had not the terms of our promise compelled us to return quickly to the coenobium. If we return there, no opportunity of coming back here again will be given us. But if we choose to stay here and fulfil our desire, what shall we do about the faith of the oath which we know we gave our elders, promising a very speedy return, so that we might be allowed to go round the saints and monasteries of this province even hurriedly?” And as we were thus agitated and could by no means find what should be decided about the state of our salvation, we bore witness by groaning alone to the necessity of our very hard condition, blaming the softness of our countenance and detesting the bashfulness born in us; weighed down by its burden, we could not otherwise have resisted, even against our advantage and purpose, the entreaties of those who would keep us back than by promising a very early return. We lamented that we had suffered from the fault of that shame of which it is said: “There is a shame that brings sin.”

Then I said: “Let the counsel, or rather the authority, of the old man bring a short end to our anxieties. We should bring our troubles to him, and whatever his judgment decides, let it put an end to all our agitation like a divine and heavenly answer. Let us not doubt in the least that this will be given us by the Lord through the mouth of this holy man, both because of his merit and because of our faith. For by His gift the believing have often obtained wholesome counsel even from the unworthy, and the unbelieving from the saints, the Lord granting it either for the merit of those who answer or for the faith of those who consult.” The holy Abba Germanus received these words with such eagerness as though I had spoken them not of myself but by the Lord’s prompting. We waited a little for the old man’s arrival and the hour of the night synaxis, which was already at hand; and after we had received him with the customary greeting and the due number of prayers and psalms had been completed, we sat down again, as is the custom, on the same mats on which we had been settled for rest.