One Sunday, Met. Anthony Bloom gave a sermon as follows: “Last night a woman with a child came to this church. She was in trousers and with no headscarf. Someone scolded her. She left. I do not know who did that, but I am commanding that person to pray for her and her child to the end of his days to God for their salvation. Because of you, she may not go to church ever again.” He turned around and entered the altar. That was the entire sermon.
Abba Paphnutius, the disciple of Abba Macarius [the city-dweller], said that the elder used to say: “When I was a child, I and the other children used to pasture cattle and they went off to steal some figs. One [fig] fell as they were running along: I took it and ate it and, when I recall that, I sit weeping.”
“Every single thing you do is work on a physical level. Every single thing you do is work. To get up and eat, you did work. Like, even that was a work right. I think the sensitivity is about merit. Is this concern about earning it, as though you weren’t good enough to have it, and I think that’s where the conversation went wrong. Like, am I? Did I earn it by being good enough for God to give me money? Right? And that’s the age old fight between, like, the Protestants and traditional Christianity, where it’s like, I don’t think anyone’s actually fighting about that, right? What we’re saying is, if you don’t eat, you die, right? Like, that’s what we’re saying. We’re not saying if you’re good enough, you eat. We’re saying you must eat, right? And that you have to eat him. And he gave himself, we didn’t give him, right? And so that differentiation maybe matters, like philosophically. But no, I don’t think it was actually making the argument right, actually making the argument about that. And I get, I guess I get, that there can be a mistakenness Even with what I’m saying, that when I’m saying, you have to work to receive grace, I have not once said that you You’ve earned it right or deserved it, right? That’s not a that’s not a thing, right? And that’s why, that’s what I’m saying with God, one out of 100 is amazing, right? Good job buddy, right? Like, that’s why he doesn’t have this scale that we created. But he’s saying, but participate with me, right? That this is, this is all for us.
And so grace can come as different gifts, right? And so, like the things we’re talking about yesterday, God can grace you with these things, right? So if you had, if you were cognitively, the reason for your falls or incapacity or your weakness is cognitive. grace can fix that.”
In hindsight, it’s incredible how trivial some of it seems. At the time, though, it was the perfect storm. I include wording like “impossible situation,” which was reflective of my thinking at the time, not objective reality.
Those who have not found Christ live in this life without hearty faith; they think and care more about worldly things—how to enjoy themselves, how to eat and drink pleasurably, how to dress exquisitely, how to satisfy their carnal desires, how to kill time, with which they do not know what to do, though time seeks them and, not finding them, quickly flies away before their eyes. Day flies away after day, night after night, month after month, year after year, until, finally, the last terrible hour strikes, and they hear a voice: “Stop, the course is finished; your time has been lost; your sins and iniquities have preceded you; they will fall upon you with all their power, and will crush you with their weight eternally.”
St. Dorotheus of Gaza says there are two kinds of fear: one is the kind of fear that a beginner has and the other the kind of fear that a Saint has. The first person [the beginner] fears God because he is afraid of hell, he is afraid of punishment, he is afraid that at the end of days, he’ll be cast into darkness.
The other Saint fears God because he seeks to please God because he loves Him. The fear is not of somebody being afraid of some kind of punishment, but because somebody has tasted the sweetness of God, the sweetness of being with God, and because of that, fears losing his relationship with God. St. Dorotheus of Gaza calls this the perfect fear: not a fear of punishment—not a fear of hell, but a fear of upsetting the one he loves.
What vanities, what foolish fancies often occupy most of us, even in sight of the highest, the most important objects of faith, in sight of the greatest holiness. For instance, when a man stands before the icons of the Lord, of the Mother of God, of an Angel, of an Archangel, of one or a whole assembly of Saints, at home or in the temple, and, sometimes, instead of prayer, instead of laying aside, at this time, in this place, all worldly cares, he casts up his accounts and reckonings, goes over his expenses and receipts, rejoices at the gain, and grieves at the loss of profits, or the failure of some undertaking (without, of course, a single thought of spiritual profit or loss), or else he thinks evil of his neighbour, exaggerating his weakness, his passions, suspecting him, envying him, judging him, or if it is in church, he looks at the faces of those, standing near him, also how they are dressed, who is nice looking, and who not, or making plans what he shall do, in what pleasure or vanity he will spend the day, and so on. And this often happens at the time when the greatest, the most heavenly Sacrament of the Eucharist, that is, of the most-pure Body and Blood of our Lord, is being celebrated; when we ought to be wholly in God, wholly occupied in meditations on the mystery accomplished for our sakes, of the redemption from sin, from the eternal curse and death; and on the mystery of our being made godly in the Lord Jesus Christ. How low we have fallen, how earthly-minded we have become, and from what does it all proceed? From inattention, and the neglect of our salvation, from attachment to temporal things, from weakness of faith, or unbelief in eternity.
“The simple person is transparent. He doesn’t know how to be two different people.”
Simplicity in relationship to my neighbor means that I am towards others as I am towards God. I don’t have two faces, or three faces, or four faces, but what you see is what you get. Exactly how I am in my room alone with God is exactly how I am in public. I don’t know how to be different. I don’t know how to wear a mask. I don’t know how to pretend to be this for that person and this for that person and this for God. The simple person is transparent. He doesn’t know how to be two different people.
He who is precise is not only meticulous when he is among people but even more so when he is alone in his private room. Precision is relatively easy in the presence of people because by nature we do not like to be criticized by others and fear exposing our faults and weaknesses before them. That is why the true criterion of our precision is made manifest when we are alone, seen by no one. If we are precise when we are alone, then it is a true precision without hypocrisy.
—H.H. Pope Shenouda III, Characteristics of the Spiritual Path
Whoever gives importance to decency within his own room will no doubt act decently outside. He who, in his own private room, is too embarrassed to act indecently on account of the spirits of the angels and the saints, will no doubt proceed with decency in front of other people. Decency becomes one of his characteristics. On the other hand, whoever does not care to sit modestly in his private room will not mind sitting the same way in front of other people.
—H.H. Pope Shenouda III, The Life of Repentance and Purity
We must reconcile our way of life within the Church and our way of life outside it, so that they proceed along the same line without any contradictions.
It is not good for a person to have two personalities: one for the House of God and another for the world.
The righteous person is always the same, he does not wear a different face for each different occasion.
—H.H. Pope Shenouda III, Experiences in Life
“Act, in whatever you do, as you would act if anyone at all were looking on; because solitude prompts us to all kinds of evil.”
SO GOOD QUOTES 