A Homily on Salvation and on Christian Perfection (Part 2)

The infirmity has changed in its visible form, remaining in essence the same as before—a striving toward apostasy from God. The Jews did not display that irresistible inclination toward idolatry which harassed, destroyed, and devastated both their spiritual and civic well-being throughout an entire millennium, from their exodus from Egypt until their captivity in Babylon. Satan did not draw them to fall away from God and to worship him through the worship of idols: he devised another snare, more effective, another ruinous abyss, incomparably deeper and more terrible, and prepared it for them. Satan left the Jews as servants of the true God in outward appearance. More than this, he drew them toward an intense and improper veneration of ritual ordinances and the traditions of the elders, while at the same time he stole from them respect for God’s commandments; he drew them into the most detailed and refined study of God’s Law according to the letter, while at the same time he robbed them of study of God’s Law through living; he employed knowledge of God’s Law according to the letter as a means of plunging them into the most terrible pride, the most terrible conceit, by which they, calling themselves and appearing to others as children of God, were in fact enemies of God and children of the devil (Jn. 8:44). Under the pretext of preserving faithfulness to God, they rejected God;[1] under the pretext of preserving communion with God, they rejected communion with God, became infected with satanic hatred toward God, and sealed this hatred with deicide. All this came to pass through the abandonment of a life pleasing to God! All this came to pass through the abandonment of the relations to one’s neighbor that God had commanded, while the relations to God that were preserved outwardly became lifeless. For this reason the Saviour directs the Jew who asked how to be saved into the relations toward one’s neighbor commanded by God. Thus every Orthodox Christian, if he wishes to pass from a heedless life to an attentive one, if he wishes to undertake his own salvation, must first turn his attention to his relations with his neighbors. In these relations he must correct what is subject to correction, bring sincere repentance before God for what is already beyond correction, and set before himself an activity pleasing to God. “Behold, half of my possessions,” said the publican Zacchaeus to the Lord at his conversion, “I will give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will repay it fourfold.” He heard the most joyful determination of the all-good and all-powerful Lord, who remains even now equally good and equally all-powerful: “Today salvation has come to this house, because he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” (Lk. 19:8–10). A descendant of Abraham according to the flesh was recognized by God as a descendant at the moment when he resolved upon a life pleasing to God: from this it follows that until that time he had not been recognized, notwithstanding his right according to the flesh. And a Christian, so long as he conducts a willful sinful life contrary to the Gospel commandments, is not recognized as a Christian, although he has the right to this name, having been joined to the holy Christian race through Baptism. What profit is there in confession by words when there is rejection by deeds? “I will declare to them,” the Lord promised those neglectful of fulfilling the Gospel commandments, “I never knew you. Depart from me, you workers of lawlessness!” (Mt. 7:23). For salvation it is necessary to fulfill all the ordinances of the Gospel, preserved in proper integrity by the one holy Orthodox Church. The youth mentioned above, having heard the Lord’s answer that for salvation there was need of living according to God’s commandments, said: “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth; what do I still lack? Jesus said to him, ‘If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me, taking up your cross.’” (Mt. 19:20–21; Mk. 10:21). Salvation is possible while retaining possessions, in life in the midst of the world; to attain perfection requires prior renunciation of the world. Salvation is necessary for all—the attainment of perfection is left to those who choose it. We see the model of Christian perfection in the holy Apostles, as the holy Apostle Paul testified concerning himself and them, saying: “Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind” (Phil. 3:15), that Christian perfection, being a dwelling in God, is an infinite field of progress, as God is infinite (Phil. 3:20, 12[2]). “This perfect, ever-imperfect perfection of the perfect, as one who has tasted it told me,” says the holy John of the Ladder, “illuminates the mind so greatly and turns it away from all material things that, upon entering this heavenly harbor, it for the most part lifts [one] out of bodily life, bringing [him] into a state of rapture, up to heaven to the vision (and holds [him] there). Of this speaks one not knowing, perhaps from experience, ‘For the mighty ones of God are greatly exalted upon the earth’ (Ps. 46:10). Of this spoke one caught up to the third heaven and remaining there to live through the affections of the heart and the thoughts of the mind: ‘Our citizenship is in heaven’” (Phil. 3:20). Perfection consists in manifest participation in the Holy Spirit, who, having dwelt in the Christian, transfers all his desires and all his thoughts into eternity. The holy David confessed such a state of the soul, testifying of himself: “The Spirit of the Lord spoke in me, and his word was on my tongue” (2 Sam. 23:2). From the action of the Holy Spirit David could say: “How beloved are your dwellings, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God” (Ps. 83:2–3). “As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God: when shall I come and behold the face of God?” (Ps. 41:2–3). “Woe is me, that my sojourning is prolonged!” (Ps. 119:5). It is not natural for man in his ordinary state to have such a burning desire for transition to eternity: it belongs only to a man filled with the Spirit, as the Spirit-filled Paul said of himself: “For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. I have a desire to depart and be with Christ” (Phil. 1:21, 23). “A merchant,” says the holy Isaac the Syrian, “when his undertaking is fulfilled and he receives the profit that follows to him, hastens to return to his home. And a monk, so long as the span of his labors is not completed, does not wish to be separated from the body. But when he senses in his soul that the span has been completed for him and he has received the earnest, then he begins to desire the age to come… The mind that has found the wisdom of the Spirit is like a man who has found a ship on the sea. When he places himself in this ship, he immediately sails away in it from the sea of the passing world and arrives at the island belonging to the age to come. The sensation of the age to come in this world is like a small island on the sea: one who has come alongside this island will no longer labor in the waves of the delusions of this age.”[3] The Venerable Macarius the Great depicts Christian perfection in the following features: “It is necessary for a man, so to speak, to ascend twelve steps and then to attain perfection. If anyone has reached this degree, then he has come to perfection. Again, when grace begins to act more feebly, he descends from one step and stands on the eleventh. Another, rich and abounding in grace, always, day and night, stands in the degree of perfection, being free and pure from all things, always drawn and rapt into the heavenly. If this supernatural state, now revealed to man, tested by him in very experience, always remained with him, then he would not be able to undertake service to the Word, nor to bear any labors, nor to hear anything, nor in necessary cases to care for himself or for the coming day, but would sit in one corner rapt and as if inebriated. For this reason the full measure of perfection is not given to man, so that he might have care for the brothers and exercise himself in service to the Word. But the wall has been broken down, and death has been defeated. This should be understood thus: just as in some place, when a candle is lit and shining in it, there can be found both a certain dark power and thick air that darkens it, so also with the spiritual light there is found a certain veil. For this reason the man in this light confesses himself still not entirely perfect and free from sin. The separating wall has, so to speak, been broken down and destroyed, but only in part, not entirely and forever, because grace at times strengthens and confirms man more powerfully, and at other times, as it were, weakens and decreases, in accordance with what is beneficial for man. Who in this life has attained the perfect degree and learned through very experience the age to come? I have not yet seen any man who has fully attained Christian perfection, who has been fully free from every vice. Although someone may rest in grace, perceive mysteries and revelations, taste the ineffable sweetness of grace, yet for all that sin dwells in him… I have not yet seen anyone entirely free: for I myself once in part ascended to this degree and learned that there is no man (fully) perfect.”[4] For this reason, as we have seen, the holy John of the Ladder, and similarly many holy Fathers, called human perfection in Christianity an imperfect perfection, as the holy Apostle Paul said: “Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Beloved, I do not regard myself as having taken hold of it; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:12–14)—Christian perfection.

Christian perfection is a gift of God, not the fruit of human effort and struggle; by struggle one demonstrates only the actuality and sincerity of the desire to receive the gift: by struggle, which tames and subdues the passions, human nature becomes capable and prepared to receive the gift. It depends on man to cleanse and adorn, and that with God’s help, the dwelling place in himself for God; the coming of God into this dwelling place depends solely on God’s benevolence (Jn. 14:23). Non-possession and renunciation of the world are necessary conditions for attaining perfection. The mind and heart must be entirely directed toward God; all obstacles, all causes of distraction must be removed: “None of you,” the Lord said, “can be my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (Lk. 14:33). Trust in perishable possessions must be replaced by trust in God, and the possessions themselves by the promise of God, who said: “Do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Mt. 6:31–33). Amid all the deprivations, amid the difficult situation into which the Christian who has renounced possessions and all the advantages provided by the world appears to bring himself, he, with the help of God’s grace working in him, is placed in the most satisfactory position that the world can never give to its servants. This position is described by the holy Apostle Paul thus: “As servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (2 Cor. 6:4–10[5]). In such a position were all the holy Apostles, all who had left everything and followed the Lord (Mt. 19:27). They did not have material possessions, but to all the world drowning in destruction they provided an invaluable spiritual treasure—the knowledge of God and salvation. They had no material possessions, but the universe belonged to them: in every city, in every village to which they came, lodging and sustenance were prepared for them by God’s Providence, and “as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold” and “laid them at the apostles’ feet” (Acts 4:34–35). In such a position were the holy martyrs. Before beginning their struggle they ordinarily gave freedom to their slaves and distributed their possessions to the poor. Having broken all bonds with the world, they stripped off the very garment—the body—conceived in iniquity, clothed themselves in the garment of the Holy Spirit, in our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, transformed their garment—the body—from carnal into spiritual, from corruptible into incorruptible, from sinful into holy, from earthly into heavenly. The sufferings of the holy martyrs had a special character: they suffered not as children of the old Adam—as members of Christ.[6] The holy martyress Felicity was pregnant when she was imprisoned in a dark and stifling dungeon for her steadfast confession of the Faith. In the dungeon she gave birth. During the labors of childbirth, which were difficult, Felicity could not refrain from cries. On this account one of the prison guards said to her: “You are crying out so much now: what will become of you when you are delivered to the beasts to be devoured?” She answered: “Now I am suffering, but then Another will suffer in me for me, because I am suffering for him.” Martyrdom was by no means an invention of man or a consequence of mere human will: it was a gift of God to mankind and therefore was supernatural, as the holy Apostle Paul said: “For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well” (Phil. 1:29). Like martyrdom, monasticism is also a gift of God. Monasticism is a supernatural struggle. It is the same martyrdom in its essence, only to a superficial and ignorant view appearing as something else, something indefinite. Like martyrdom, monasticism requires that it be preceded by renunciation of the world. Just as the struggle of martyrdom begins with various tormentings of the body and is perfected by its death, so the struggle of monasticism begins with the cutting off of one’s own will and one’s own opinions, with renunciation of carnal pleasure, and is perfected by the mortification of soul and body for sin, and their quickening for God. Having risen against sin to death, having purchased victory over it through relentless mortification of the body in intense supernatural struggles, many monks most readily passed from monastic struggle to martyrdom on account of the kinship between these two struggles, which consist in renunciation of the world and of oneself. Just as the struggle of martyrdom is incomprehensible to the proud person serving corruption of the world, appearing to him as madness, so incomprehensible and strange to him is the struggle of monasticism. Martyrs, as they progressed in their struggle, began to display an abundance of gracious gifts, and in monks likewise did God’s grace reveal its action upon their mortification for sin, and intensify this action in proportion as the holy deadness in the monks intensified. The struggle of every monk is supernatural: it must necessarily be joined with victory over the bestial nature of the body, which became a property of every man after the fall. The struggle of some of the holy monks seems more incomprehensible in its supernaturalness even than the struggle of the martyrs. One can be convinced of this by reading the lives of the Venerable Mark of Thrace, the Venerable Onuphrius the Great, Mary of Egypt, and others. Why do martyrdom and monasticism appear as madness and absurdity to the slaves of sin and the world? Clearly because they recognize as good only the good of fallen nature, and do not know and do not understand Christianity.

To attain perfection, following the exhaustion (distribution—Editor) of possessions to the poor, it is necessary to take up one’s cross (Mk. 8:34). The abandonment of possessions must be followed by renunciation of oneself, which constitutes the taking up of the cross, or voluntary and constant submission to sorrows of two kinds, of which the cross is composed, as though of two pieces of wood joined together and intersecting each other. Some of these sorrows are allowed by God’s Providence for the building up of our soul, while others we ourselves must voluntarily lay upon ourselves for the restraint and mortification of our passions, for the mortification within ourselves of our fallen nature. Concerning the sorrows allowed to us by God’s Providence, the holy Apostle Paul speaks: “For the Lord disciplines those whom he loves, and chastises every child whom he accepts. Endure trials for the sake of discipline. God is treating you as children; for what child is there whom a parent does not discipline? If you do not have discipline in which all children have shared, then you are illegitimate and not his children. Moreover, we had human parents to discipline us, and we respected them. Should we not be even more willing to be subject to the Father of spirits and live?” (Heb. 12:6–9). The holy Apostle Peter leads to spiritual understanding of sorrows and comforts those subjected to them in the following manner: “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed. If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the spirit of glory, which is the Spirit of God, is resting on you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer, a thief, a criminal, or even as a mischief-maker. Yet if any of you suffers as a Christian, do not consider it a disgrace, but glorify God because you bear this name. For the time has come for judgment to begin with the household of God; if it begins with us, what will be the end for those who do not obey the gospel of God? And If it is hard for the righteous to be saved, what will become of the ungodly and the sinners? So, let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust themselves to a faithful Creator, while continuing to do good” (1 Pet. 4:12–19). According to the instruction of the Apostle Paul, the sorrows allowed by Providence must be received with the greatest submission to God, as the Apostle himself received the trials allowed to him: “I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ” (2 Cor. 12:10). According to the instruction of the holy Apostle Peter, when sorrows approach we must abandon ourselves to the all-holy will of God and with special watchfulness firmly hold to God’s Commandments, from which the enemy strives to turn us away during sorrow through thoughts of sadness, despair, murmuring, anger, and blasphemy. “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7[7]). We ought to have “great joy” (that is, the greatest joy) “when you fall into various trials” (Jas. 1:2): trials are a sign of God’s calling us, a sign of election, a sign of adoption. From the midst of them we shall raise glory to God, as the righteous and much-suffering Job raised it from the midst of various misfortunes surrounding him from all sides (Job 1:21, 2:10). From the midst of them we shall offer thanksgiving to God, which fills the heart of the one who gives thanks with spiritual consolation and the strength of patience, thanksgiving commanded by God Himself. “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thess. 5:18). Peter of Damascus says: “As loving parents, being impelled by love, with threats turn their children, who have allowed themselves reckless behavior, to wise conduct, so God allows trials as a rod, turning the worthy from diabolical evil counsel. ‘Whoever spares the rod hates their child, but the one who loves their child is diligent to discipline them’ (Prov. 13:25). It is better through patience of the trials that come upon us to have recourse to God than from fear of misfortunes to incur a falling away, to fall into the hands of the devil, and to bring upon oneself eternal falling away and torment with him. One of two things is necessarily set before us: either we must endure the first—the temporal—or be subjected to the second—the eternal. The righteous are touched by neither these nor other misfortunes: because they, loving events that appear to us as misfortunes, rejoice in them, embracing trials as discoveries and occasions for acquiring spiritual gain, remain unwounded. He does not die into whom the arrow struck but did not pierce, he perishes for whom it dealt a mortal wound. Did misfortune harm Job? On the contrary, did it not crown him? Did the torments bring fear to the apostles and the martyrs? They rejoiced, Scripture says, ‘that they were considered worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name’ (Acts 5:41). The victor, the more he is assailed, the more crowns he is deemed worthy of, the greater the joy he feels from this. When he hears the sound of the trumpet, he does not come in fear as from the sound announcing slaughter, but on the contrary rejoices as at a promise of the crown and recompense. Nothing brings victory so effortlessly as courage with enlightened faith! Nothing brings defeat so readily as self-love and fear born of unbelief.” The Lord promised sufferings to His followers throughout all the time of their earthly sojourn, promised an earthly life like His own, spent in deprivations and persecutions, but at the same time commanded them courage and good hope. “If the world hates you, be aware that it hated me before it hated you. If you belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own. Because you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world—therefore the world hates you” (Jn. 15:18–19). “In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world” (Jn. 16:33[8]): no sorrow, no trial shall be able either to overcome or to crush you if you believe in Me and abide in Me through the fulfilling of My commandments. “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it” (1 Cor. 10:13). Also, in another place, Holy Scripture testifies: “The righteous face many afflictions, but the Lord rescues them from them all. The Lord keeps all their bones; not one of them will be broken” (Ps. 33:20–21). Let us believe God’s promise, let us not be dismayed by the turbulent sea of sorrows, and let us cross it safely, held by the invisible yet all-powerful right hand of God.

The other part of the cross is made up of voluntary spiritual struggles established and commanded by God, through which the sinful desires of the body, and consequently of the soul, are restrained. The holy Apostle Paul spoke of them: “I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified” (1 Cor. 9:27), and the holy Apostle Peter: “Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same intention (for whoever has suffered in the flesh has finished with sin)” (1 Pet. 4:1). “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires” (Gal. 5:24): flesh that is not crucified but fattened and comforted by abundant nutrition, pleasure, and rest cannot fail to sympathize with sin, cannot fail to be delighted by it, cannot fail to be incapable of receiving the Holy Spirit, cannot fail to be alien and hostile to Christ. “If she is a real widow, alone and destitute, she has set her hope on God and continues in supplications and prayers night and day; but the widow who lives for pleasure is dead even while she lives” (1 Tim. 5:5–6), because “if you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption from the flesh; but if you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life from the Spirit” (Gal. 6:8). It is necessary, absolutely necessary for the follower of Christ to crucify the flesh! It is necessary to submit to the good yoke of struggles for restraining the bestial urges of the flesh, but not for depriving it of the health and strength necessary for the struggling itself. “We have learned to be slayers of passions, not of the body,” says Pimen the Great.[9] Even for those weak in body and the sick, it is very harmful to violate temperance, which intensifies sickness, does not support but disturbs the weak and sick. Wise moderation is especially capable of supporting and preserving bodily strength and health in people of strong constitution and in people of weak, sickly constitution.