An Epistle to the Brethren of the Sergiev Hermitage, From the Nikolo-Babaevsky Monastery

Beloved Fathers and Brethren!

I thank you for your remembrance of me, a sinner, for your love toward me. May God’s blessing rest upon you and upon all who traverse the sea of life with the goal of salvation, with the goal of reaching the Divine harbor. To those who look only to the advantages, privileges, and delights of the passing world, I have nothing to say.

During my travels from the Sergius Hermitage, through Moscow, to the Babaev Monastery, I visited many monastic communities and saw firsthand what the holy Fathers describe in their divinely inspired books. I saw that in every place—both in solitary wilderness and amid the noise of the crowded world—those among Christians who attend to the Word of God and strive to embody it in their lives fill their vessels—mind and heart—with provision for blessed eternity. By contrast, those who neglect exercise in the Word of God, who disregard the fulfilling of God’s holy commandments, remain in sorrowful spiritual darkness and in sin’s captivity, in complete spiritual barrenness, even though they live in deep wilderness. Hermitic solitude, not joined to spiritual work, nourishes, fattens, and strengthens sinful passions. So teach us the holy Fathers;[1] so it truly is. The Word of God is eternal life: “those who feed upon it will live forever” (Jn. 6:51). Wherever a person nourishes himself from the Word of God—whether in wilderness or amid the multitude—the Word of God preserves everywhere its holy nature: the nature of eternal life. Therefore no place hinders this eternal life from communicating spiritual life to those who partake of it, the one true life. Remaining with you, I always reminded you, entreated you to occupy yourselves with the Word of God: it can bestow upon our noisy community the dignity of a solitary dwelling; it can build a spiritual fence around our community, which has no material enclosure. This spiritual fence will be stronger and higher than any fence built of brick and stone; no vice will penetrate our community, no virtue will be lost from it. Finding myself in your absence, I find nothing better than to write to you what I have spoken by word of mouth. Brethren! Do not pass your lives in empty occupations; do not squander earthly life, which is brief and given to us for acquiring eternal treasures. It will flee, will rush past and not return; its loss is irreplaceable; those who spend it in vanities and amusements deprive themselves of the blessed eternity prepared for us by God. Use it to study the will of God, good and perfect, as set forth in the Holy Scriptures. “To write the same things to you,” said the holy Apostle, “is not grievous to me, but for you it is safe” (Phil. 3:1).

When the merciful Lord, having granted me some recovery of my bodily health, returns me to your blessed community and permits me to behold your faces as the faces of holy Angels, my word to you will be the same as it was before. And before I entreated you, that while enduring in this God-given refuge, you would seek peace of soul in the Word of God, not becoming entangled in vain thoughts and fantasies that promise peace yet steal it away. “The fool’s portion is small in his own eyes,” said the great Isaac. By contrast, in the soul that receives God’s gifts with thanksgiving, the value of these gifts increases.[2] So I speak of our refuge, the Sergius Hermitage. Gratitude to God for this haven can make the haven peaceful and most pleasant; troubled looks of murmuring and discontent transmit their cloudiness, their darkness even to that for which, by all rights, one should give thanks and glorify God.

A tree transplanted from place to place wastes its strength, even if by nature it were strong, and loses the ability to bear fruit. “In our patience” the Divine Teacher commanded us to “acquire our souls” (Lk. 21:19). He proclaimed that those who bear fruit, “bear it” in “patience” (Lk. 8:15). He proclaimed: “he who perseveres to the end shall be saved” (Mt. 24:13); “whoever” wavers, He finally proclaimed, “my soul will have no pleasure in ‘him’ (Heb. 10:38).

I plunge into contemplation of Christ’s field. How many seeds have been sown upon it, how many ears of grain have grown up! How beautifully they flourish green, how they rustle comfortingly and pleasingly, waving in the wind. There comes for these ears a time of ripeness, a time of harvest; they leave the field in which they were born and grew, are gathered to the threshing floor, dried, threshed, winnowed. Such exactly is our life. How many different upheavals are needed for a human being to see all the vanity of the world, all its worthlessness, and finally reach, like a threshing floor, the bosom of the holy community. Heavy, fruit-bearing grain, no matter how much it is winnowed, always falls to the threshing floor, but chaff and weak, empty, light grain is carried away from the floor by the wind; first it appears as a cloud, as something of significance; then it thins, thins, fades from sight, disappears. The sorrows encountered in community cannot excuse faintheartedness. A sorrowless life and place on earth is an unrealizable dream, sought by minds and hearts estranged from divine illumination, deceived by demons. We are commanded to seek peace of soul by bearing one another’s burdens. It is not by changing places, arising solely from judging our neighbor, that Christ’s law is fulfilled. No! “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). Foolishly seeking a sorrowless place, one flees from fulfilling Christ’s law. A sorrowless life and place are in heaven: there “every sorrow” and sigh “shall flee away” (Is. 35:10). Earth is a place of sighing, and blessed are those who sigh upon it: they shall be comforted in heaven. A sorrowless life and place come when the heart finds humility, and through humility enters into patience.

All of this, everything that is good and salvific teaches us the Word of God. And therefore the Lord Himself commands, all the Prophets and Apostles, all the holy Fathers entreat, command, and implore us to abide constantly in the Word of God, which is the source of all goods, which is life, which is light on earth, in this vale of tears, hunger, darkness, and death. “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (Jn. 1:5). Guided by the ray of this light, the earthly wayfarer sets out to the pasture of salvation, spiritual pasture, whence he begins eternal life. Accept, brethren, my words, which are nothing other than an echo of the teaching of all the Saints. Thus the wild desolate cave—the dwelling of serpents and all filth—repeats in its echo the inspired sounds of divine hymns.

Requesting your holy prayers and commending myself to your holy prayers, Archimandrite Ignatius, 1847, Nikolaev Babaev Monastery

Footnotes