On Sorrow

When the evil spirit of sorrow takes possession of a soul, it fills it with grief and displeasure, and does not allow it to perform prayer with due fervor, hinders it from occupying itself with the reading of Scripture with proper attention, robs it of gentleness and good cheer in its dealings with the brothers, and gives rise to an aversion to every conversation. For a soul filled with sorrow becomes, as it were, senseless and beside itself, and can neither calmly receive good counsel nor answer gently the questions put to it. It flees from people as though they were the cause of its distress, not understanding that the cause of its illness lies within itself. Sorrow is a worm of the heart, gnawing at the mother that gives it birth.

The sorrowful monk does not move his mind toward contemplation and can never perform pure prayer.

Whoever has conquered the passions has conquered sorrow as well. But one conquered by the passions will not escape the bonds of sorrow. As the sick are recognized by the color of their face, so one held captive by passion is exposed by sorrow.

Whoever loves the world cannot but be sorrowful. But one who has despised the world is always joyful.

As fire refines gold, so “godly sorrow” (2 Cor. 7:10) purifies the sinful heart (St. Antiochus, Homily 25).