Chapter 4 of 11

Conference Two

Conference Two

Conference I'wo

ON DISCERNMENT

VV'e had a short morning sleep and then, joyously, we saw the coming of daylight. We began to beg for the talk which had been promised us, and so the blessed Moses began to speak.

"I see you are fired by a very great longing. That brief interval of rest which I set aside from our spiritual discussion for the sake of the flesh's repose can hardly have been of much benefit to the body. And as I now look upon your zeal I have a much greater worry. For the more insistent your demand, the greater the care

1 owe to your faith. As Scripture says: 'If you sit down to dine at the table of a great man, take careful note of what you are given and reach your hand out to it in the sure knowledge that you too must get the like ready' (Prv 23:1-2).

"We are going to talk about discernment, its goodness, its special excellence. We had reached it last night as the concluding point of our discussion, and I think 1 shall first establish its outstanding character by reference to the opinions of the fathers. When it is clear w hat our predecessors thought or said about it, I shall then cite the example of various people whose catastrophic downfall, in the past and in recent times, was due to the fact that they had paid it scant attention. Then, to the best of my ability, I shall deal with its use and benefit. Follow ing on this, I shall study its goodness and value and we w ill consider how' we may more effectively locate it and cultivate it.

" I'his is no minor virtue, nor one which can be seized anywhere merely by human effort.

It is ours only as a gift from God and we read in the apostle that it is to be numbered among the most outstanding gifts of the I loly Spirit. 'To one the gift of preaching the word of w isdom is given by the spirit, to another is given a word of instruction by the same

CONFERENCE TWO

spirit, to another faith in the same spirit, to another the gift of healing through this one spirit'

( 1 Cor 1 2:8-9). Eurther on is 'to another is given the discernment of spirits' (ibid.

10). And following on the full list of the spiritual gifts he adds that 'it is the one and same spirit which works all of these, giving them out to each one as he chooses' (ibid.

1 1).

"So you see, then, that the gift of discernment is neither earthly nor of little account, but is, rather, a very great boon of divine grace.

And if a monk does not do his utmost to acquire it and if he does not have a clear knowledge of the spirits rising up against him he will surely stray like someone in a dark night amid gruesome shadows and not only will he stumble into dangerous pits and down steep slopes but he will often fall even in the level, straightforward places.

"I remember the vears when I was still a bov in that section of the 1 hebaid w here the blessed Antonv used to live. Some older men came to visit him and to talk to him about perfection.

I heir talk lasted from the evening hours until daw n and the problem we are now discussing took up the greatest part of the night.

" Ehere was a most searching inquiry into which of the virtues and which observance could always preserve a monk from the snares and the deceptions of the devil and could lead him w ith firm tread on a sure path to the summit of perfection. Each one offered an opinion in accordance w ith the understanding he had of the matter. Some declared that bv means of zealous fasting and the keeping of vigils the mind would be enlarged and w ould produce purity of heart and body so as to enable one to come all the more easily into union with God. Others

¥ posited detachment from everything in order that the mind, shorn of everything, freed from all the snares w hich w ere holding it back, w ould come more speedily to God. Others thought that what was necessary was to get completely aw ay, to have the solitude and secrecy of the desert where a man, living there alw ays, could converse more intimately with God and where union could be achieved more directly. Some opted for the practice of charity, that is to say, the works of hospitality, since it w as to people of this kind that the Lord in the gospel promised especially that he would give the kingdom of heaven.

'(>)me, you blessed ones of my father, come and possess the kingdom which has been ready for you since the beginning of the w orld.

I w as hungry and you gave me food to eat.

1 was thirsty and you gave me a drink,' and so on (.\lt 25:34-35).

JOHN CASSIAN

I hus it w as that the different virtues were said to give a more certain access to Ciod. And most of the night w as spent in this inquirv.

"Finallv, the blessed Antony spoke. 'All the things that you have spoken about are necessarv and helpful to those thirsting for Ciod and longing to reach him. But the countless disasters and experiences of manv people do not permit that any one of these virtues should be said to be the prime influence for good. For very often we have seen people w ho have been most zealous in their fasts and vigils, who have lived wondrouslv solitarv lives, who have endured such total privation of every thing that thev would not allow' themselves to hold on to even a dav's food or even a single coin of the low est value, who have hastened to do all that is required in charitv—and who have suddenly fallen prey to illusion with the result that not only could they not give a fitting end to the w ork they had undertaken but they brought to an abominable conclusion that high zeal of theirs and that praisew orthy mode of life.

1 lence if we probe the exact reason for their delusion and fall w e w ill be able to recognize w hat it is that, above all else, leads us to God. The virtuous activities, of w hich you w ere talking, flourished among them.

But the lack of discernment prevented them from reaching the end. No other cause can be found for their downfall. Lacking the training provided bv older men they could in no way acquire this virtue of discernment which, avoiding extremes, teaches the monk to walk alwavs on the roval road.

It keeps him from veering to the right, that is, it keeps him from going w ith stupid presumption and excessive fervor beyond the boundary of reasonable restraint.

It keeps him from going to the left to carelessness and sin, to sluggishness of spirit, and all this on the pretext of actually keeping the body under control.'

"It is discernment w hich in Scripture is described as the eve and the lamp of the body.

Fhis is what the Savior says, 'Your eye is the light of your body, and if your eye is sound then there is light in your w hole body. But if your eye is diseased then your entire body will be in darkness' (.Vlt 6:22-23). This eye sees through all the thoughts and actions of a man, examining and illuminating everything which we must do. And if it is not sound in a man, that is, if it is not fortified by good judgment and by w ell-founded know ledge, if it is deluded by error and by presumption, this makes for darkness in our entire body.

I he clear thrust of the mind as well as everything w e do will be shadowed and we shall be w rapped in the blindness of sin and the blackness of passion.

'If the light w ithin you is darkness,' says the Savior, 'w hat a darkness that w ill be' (Mt 6:23). For let no one doubt that our thoughts

CONFERENCE TWO

and our works, which originate from the deliberative processes of discernment, will be caught up in the shadows of sin if ever the good judgment of our heart goes astray or is taken over bv the night of ignorance.

"This is how it w as w ith the one w ho, by a decision of God, w as first to obtain the kingship of the people of Israel. He lacked this discerning eye and, as it were, he became darkened in his entire body. He v\as cast dow n from the throne. His was the glow^ of shadow and of error. He thought that his sacrifices would be more pleasing to God than any obedience to the commandment of Samuel. Hence his disgrace, even as he w as hoping to make himself agreeable to God.

"And I say that this inability to discern was responsible for the fact that following the outstanding triumph accorded him by divine favor.

King Achab of Israel was impelled to believe that his show of mercy w as preferable to the very harsh execution of God's command, a command w hich seemed a cruel one to him. I'hinking in this way he grew weaker. He preferred to temper a bloody victory w ith clemency and because of this unw ise show' of mercy he was, so to speak, reduced to darkness in his whole body and w as condemned to a death from w hich there was no recall.

"Such, then, is discernment, and not only is it called the lamp of the body but is even described as 'the sun' by the apostle w hen he says

'may the sun not set upon your anger' (Eph 4:26).

"It is called the 'guide' of our life, in line with the words 'those without a guide will fall like the leaves' (Prv

1 1:14).

"Verv rightly it is called 'good sense' and the full weight of Scripture forbids us to do anything w ithout it, even to the extent that we are told not to drink the wine of the soul without being guided by it, that w ine 'which gladdens the heart of a man' (Ps

103:15). 4 hese are the words: 'Do everything sensibly, drink wine sensibly' (Prv

31:3). Or again, 'Like a city w ith walls down and with no defense, such is the man who does anything without good sense' (Pry 25:28).

"I low dangerous the lack of good sense can be to a monk is borne out by the w itness and example of this last text, w hich compares him to a city which is ruined and w ithout walls.

"W isdom, intelligence, and sound judgment lie hereabout, and w ithout these the house of our interior life cannot be built nor can the

JOHN CASSIAN

riches of the soul be amassed, d his is what Scripture says; 'A house is built bv \\ isdom and it rises strong and firm because of intelligence.

And sound judgment fills up its cellars with every rich and good treasure' (Prov 24:3-4).

This, I sav, is the solid food which can be taken only bv the mature and the strong. As Scripture says, 'Solid food is for mature men, for those trained by the habit of telling the difference between good and evil' (Heb 5:14).

It is considered so helpful and necessarv to us that it is linked to the Word of (iod and to His virtues.

.\s Scripture says, 'The Word of Ciod is living and active, more cutting than anv two-edged sw ord, reaching through to mark off the soul from the spirit and the joints from the marrow

, and discerning the thoughts and w ishes of the heart' (I leb 4: 12).

"I lence it is very clear that no virtue can come to full term or can endure w ithout the grace of discernment. And thus it was the agreed opinion of the blessed Antonv and of all those with him that it is discernment w hich w ith firm step leads the enduring monk to God and w hich holds utterly intact together all the virtues referred to above.

W ith discernment it is possible to reach the utmost heights with the minimum of e.xhaustion. W ithout it there are many who despite the intensity of their struggle have been quite unable to arrive at the summit of perfection. For discernment is the mother, the guardian, and the guide of all the virtues.

"A recent example of the kind that I promised you w ill show' the force of that description proclaimed of old by the blessed Antony and bv the other fathers. Think of w hat you recently saw' happening before vour verv eves. Remember the old man Hero w ho w as cast dow n from the heights to the lowest depths because of a diabolical illusion.

I remember how' he remained fifty years in this desert, keeping to the rigors of abstinence with a severity that was outstanding, loving the secrecy of the solitary life w ith a fervor marvelously greater than that of any one else dw elling here. After such toil how and why could he have been fooled by the deceiver? How' could he have gone down into so great a ruin that all of us here in the desert were stricken with pain and grief?

Surely the reason for it was that he had too little of the virtue of discernment and that he preferred to be guided by his owm ideas rather than to bow' to the advice and conferences of his brethren and to the rules laid dow n by our predecessors.

I le practiced fasting so rigorously and so relentlessly, he w as so given to the loneliness and secrecy of his

CONFERENCE TW O

cell, that even the special respect due to the Easter day could not persuade him to join the brethren in their meal. He was the only one who could not come together with all his brethren assembled in church for the feast, and the reason for this was that by taking the tiniest share of the vegetables he might give the impression of having relaxed from what he had chosen to do.

"This presumptuousness led to his being fooled. He showed the utmost veneration for the angel of Satan, welcoming him as if he were actually an angel of light. Yielding totally to his bondage he threw himself headlong into a well, whose depths no eye could penetrate. He did so trusting completely in the assurance of the angel who had guaranteed that on account of the merit of his virtues and of his works he could never come to any harm. To experience his undoubted freedom from danger the deluded man threw himself in the darkness of night into this well. He would know at first hand the great merit of his own virtue when he emerged unscathed.

I le was pulled out half-dead by his brothers, who had to struggle very hard at it. He would die two days later.

Worse, he was to cling firmly to his illusion, and the very experience of dying could not persuade him that he had been the sport of devilish skill, fhose who pitied him his leaving had the greatest difficulty in obtaining the agreement of abbot Paphnutius that for the sake of the merit won by his very hard work and by the many years endured by him in the desert he should not be classed among the suicides and, hence, be deemed unworthy of the remembrance and prayers offered for the dead.

"And then there were the two brothers who lived on the far side of the desert at Thebais, where the blessed Antony had been. Traveling across the vast emptiness of that uninhabited region they were moved by a lapse of discernment to resolve that the only food they would take would be whatever the Lord Himself offered them. They were staggering through the desert, weak from hunger, when they were spotted from a distance by the Mazices. This is a people more savage and cruel than almost any other tribe. Some shed blood for the sake of loot but these are stirred by sheer ferocity. And yet in spite of their innate barbarism they rushed with bread to the two men.

"One of them, moved by discernment, accepted with joy and blessing the food offered him, as if it were the Lord Himself who was giving it. In his view the food had been made available by God Himself.

JOHN CASSIAN

It had to be God's work that those who always rejoiced in the shedding of blood w ere now giving of what they had to weak and wasted men.

" T he other man refused the food.

It had been offered bv man. And he died of hunger.

"Both had started out with a wrong decision. One, however, with the help of discernment changed his mind about something which he had rashly and imprudently decided. The other man stuck to his foolish presumptuousness.

Knowing nothing about discernment he drew dow n upon himself the death which the Lord had wished to avert. He would not believe that at God's instigation wild barbarians had so forgotten their innate savagery as to come with bread instead of the sword.

"Then there is the man \\ hose name I do not wish to mention since he is still alive. For a long while he saw the devil shining before him like an angel and he was so often granted innumerable revelations that he was fooled into believing him to be a messenger of justice. Besides, w ithout the aid of any lamp the visitor illuminated his cell every night.

"Finally, he was commanded by the demon to offer up his own son, then living with him in the monastery, so that by this sacrifice he might equal the merit of Abraham the patriarch. He w as so completely taken in that he would have done the deed of killing had it not been for the fact that his son, noticing that he was sharpening a knife in an unusual manner and that he was getting chains ready as a preliminary to sacrifice, guessed the crime to be committed and ran away in terror.

"It would take a long time to tell in detail how a monk from Mesopotamia was deceived. Very few in that province could imitate the abstemiousness which alone in his cell he had practiced in so singular a manner. And then after all those toils and virtues in which he surpassed every monk living there he was so deceived by devilish revelation and dreams that he lapsed wretchedly into Judaism and circumcision.

"At first the devil wanted him to get used to having visions so that he could be led on to a subsequent delusion. For a long time he told him things that were quite true, as though he himself were a messenger of truth. Finally he showed him the Christian people, together with the apostles and martyrs w ho are the founders of our religion and faith.

Fhere they were—in darkness and filth, lean, rotting, and misshapen.

CONFERENCE TWO

By contrast, the Jew ish people, together w ith Moses, the patriarchs, and the prophets, w ere dancing w ith the greatest joy and w ere sparkling w ith a most resplendent light. And the devil told him that if he w ished to share in their merit and blessedness he should hurry to be circumcised.

"No one of these men w ould have been so sadly deluded if they had worked to acquire the guidance of discernment. The downfall and the experience of many give proof of how dangerous it is not to have this grace of discernment."

In reply. Germanus said this: "These recent examples and the authoritative statements of our predecessors show clearly the extent to w hich discernment is the source and root of all the virtues. W hat w e want to know is how to acquire it.

I low can w e recognize something to be true and from Ciod or false and from the devil?

"Taking up that gospel story w hich you explained in the first conference—the one telling us to become genuine money-changers—w hen v\ e see on a coin the image of the true king we ought to be able to know if it is spurious and, in the common usage referred to by you in yesterday's conference, w e should be able to reject it as being counterfeit. You are men possessing this skill. You have follow ed it fully and completely.

You have marked what it is that the money-changer has of the spiritual, of the gospel. W hat use is it to us to know the merit attached to the virtue and grace of discernment if w e are unaw are of how to find and to acquire it?"

fhen Moses spoke. " frue discernment is obtained only when one is really humble. The first evidence of this humility is w hen everything done or thought of is submitted to the scrutiny of our elders, d his is to ensure that one trusts one's own judgment in nothing, that one yields to their authority in everything, that the norms for good and bad must be established in accordance w ith w hat they have handed dow n.

"Not only w ill this procedure teach the young monk to march directly along the true road of discernment but it w ill actually keep him safe from all the deceits and snares of the enemy. Someone who lives not by his ow n decisions but by the example of the ancients w ill never be deceived, fhe skill of the enemy will not be able to delude the ignorance of a man w ho does not, out of dangerous shame, conceal the

JOHN CASSIAN

thoughts arising in his heart and who rejects or accepts them following upon their quick examination by older men. An evil thought sheds its danger when it is brought out into the open, and even before the verdict of discernment is proferred the most foul serpent which, so to speak, has been dragged out of its dark subterranean lair into the light by the fact of open avowal retreats, disgraced and denounced.

Its dangerous promptings hold sway in us as long as these are concealed in the heart.

"And in order that you may more readily understand the force of \\ hat I am saying, I w ill tell you something w hich happened to the Abbot Sarapion, something w hich he very often told his younger brethren for their ow n good.

"1 le said: 'W hen I w as very young and living w ith the abbot I'heo, a habit grew' in me as a result of diabolical assault. After a meal shared by me w ith the old man at the ninth hour each day

I would conceal on my person a bit of bread w hich I secretly devoured later, unknown to him.

I continued to be guilty of this hidden act. My w ill cooperated and there was no restraint at all on my urges. How ever, when my greed w as satisfied my cheating returned to me and I suffered guilty torment that was much worse than any gratification

1 had experienced while eating.

It turned into a burden as painful to me as that endured of old under the overseers of Pharaoh. Each day my heart suffered the torment of this compulsion and yet I w as unable to break free of this most cruel tyranny and I was too ashamed to reveal my thieving to the old man.

" 'But then as a result of God's wish to snatch me from my captivity some brethren came to the cell of the old man for the sake of edification.

After a meal a spiritual discussion began and, in answer to questions put to him, the old man started to talk about the sin of greed and about the w ay secret thoughts take a grip on someone. He examined their nature and described the most appalling power they have when they are concealed.

'I was stung by the direct impact of this discussion and was deeply frightened by the awareness of my guilt.

I began to believe that if these things were now' being said the reason lay in the fact that the Lord had revealed the secrets of my heart to the old man. At first

I was moved to a sadness hidden wdthin myself. Then my heart grew' ever more scalded until I broke openly into sobs and tears.

I pulled out the

CONFERENCE TWO

piece of bread which in my sinful habit I had taken awav to be eaten secretly.

I pulled it out from my breast which had shared the knowledge of my furtiveness and which had gone along with it.

1 put it out in front of everyone and, prostrate on the ground, I begged for pardon and I confessed how' each day I was eating secretly.

I poured out a rich flood of tears and I implored them to ask of God that I be delivered from my captivity.'

"Then the old man said this to me: 'Take heart, my son. Without my saving anything, vour confession has set you free from this captivity. Today you have w on a victory over the adversary w ho had beaten

9^0 • W you. Fhrough your confession you have brought him down more completely than when you yourself w ere down as a result of that silence w hich he had prompted. No word uttered by you or by anyone else had stopped him, and until now you had given him the w hip hand over you, just as Solomon said, "Because nothing is said against those doing wrong, the heart of the sons of man is so filled up that they do w rong"

(Eccl 8:1 1). Now because of this open denunciation of him, that most evil spirit w ill not be able to trouble you, and this most loathsome serpent w ill not take up a hiding place within you, for he has been pulled out into the light from your shadowed heart by this saving confession of yours.'

"And the old man had scarcely finished these words when a lamp was lighted in my breast and it so filled the cell with its sulphurous smell that its fierce stink barely allowed us to remain.

"The old man continued: 'See! The Ixird has given open proof to you of the truth of w hat I w as saying. He w anted you to see the instigator of this passion expelled from your heart and before your very eyes as a result of this saving confession. He w anted you to realize that by this open expulsion no further place would lie open w ithin you for the enemy.'

"It w as just as the old man said. Through the pow er of this confession the grip of this diabolic tyranny w as wiped out and forever laid to rest. The enemy never even bothered to revive in me the memory of this urge and after this 1 never again felt myself moved by the w ish to engage in stealing of this kind. W'e read this notion expressed so very w ell in Ecclesiastes: 'If the serpent does not have a w histling bite there w ill be no abundance for the soothsayer' (fxcl 10:

1 1). What he is noting there is the silent bite. I'hat is to say, if one does not confess a diabolic idea or thought to some soothsayer, to some spiritual person well used

JOHN CASSIAN

to finding in the magic, all-pow erful words of Scripture an immediate cure for these serpent bites and the means of driving the fatal poison from the heart, there can he no help for the one w ho is in danger and about to perish.

"W'c w ill most easily come to a precise know ledge of true discernment if w e follow the paths of our elders, if vve do nothing novel, and if w e do not presume to decide anything on the basis of our own private judgment. Instead let us in all things travel the road laid down for us bv the tradition of our elders and by the goodness of their lives.

Strengthened bv this routine a person w ill not only reach the summit of discernment but he w ill remain completely safe from all the snares of the enemy. For the devil drags a monk headlong to death by w ay of no other sin than that of submission to private judgment and the neglect of the advice of our elders.

"All the skills and disciplines devised by human talent for the benefit of this temporal life can be laid hold of, observed, and understood, but only w ith the necessary help of some instructor. Now the spiritual life is unseen and hidden, open to only the purest heart. Here the fact of going wrong brings harm that is not of this w orld and that cannot easily be rectified. Rather, it causes the loss of the soul and an everlasting death. So then how stupid it is to believe that only this w ay of life has no need of a teacher!

1 lere the enemy to be encountered is not visible but is unseen and pitiless. Here the spiritual fight goes on day and night and is waged not against one or tw o but against countless hordes and is all the more dangerous for everyone because the enemy is more vicious and more secretive. And so the footsteps of our elders must alw avs be follow ed with the utmost care and every thought in our hearts must be submitted to them, stripped of the cover of false modesty."

(iermanus; " Fhe main reason for this dangerous false modesty, leading to our urge to conceal bad thoughts, is something w e have encountered.

V\'e knew someone in Syria who was deemed the most outstanding of the elders, but w hen a brother came to him to confess openly the thoughts which were troubling him he was moved to rage and he very sternly upbraided him. As a result, we bury our thoughts and we blush to tell our elders about them, so that we find ourselves unable to acquire the remedy for these problems."

CONFERENCE TWO

Moses: "Just as all young people are not equally fervent nor equally trained in wisdom and virtue, so all elderly men are not found to be equally virtuous, equally of the most proven excellence.

It is not w hite hair which constitutes the riches of old men but the zeal they showed in their youth and the toils which they undertook. 'How can you find in old age what you did not gather in vour youth? Old age is honorable not because of length of days nor is it reckoned in the number of years.

Understanding—that is whiteness of hair; an untarnished life—that is ripe old age' (Wis 4:8-9).

"Therefore we must not follow' the tracks or the traditions or the advice of all old men of whom w hite hair and length of years are the sole recommendation. Rather, we must follow those who, we know', stamped their youth in a praiseworthy and admirable fashion and who were trained not by their ow n presumption but by the traditions of their elders.

Fhere are many—and, sad to say, they are the majority w ho grow' old in the lukewarm laziness w hich they adopted as youths and w ho look to be authoritatiye not because of mature character but because of the toll of their years. These are the ones so rightly criticized by the Lord in the words of the prophet: 'Foreigners eat his strength away and he know s nothing about it; grey hairs are scattered over him and he know s nothing of it' (Hos 7:9). These are the ones,

I say, w ho are held up to the young not because of their life's probity nor because of any praisew orthy and admirable zeal but only because of the number of their years. That most skilled adversary makes use of their w hite hairs, presenting them as the foreordained signs of authority—and all this to deceiye the young w ho could be led out on to the road of perfection by their ow n adv ice or the advice of others.

I he enemy hastens to undermine them, with cheating subtlety to deceive them through the example of these old men. He turns their teaching and their w ay of life into dangerous laziness or fatal hopelessness.

"I have an example of this for you. But I am omitting the name of the man responsible since, otherw ise, I w ould be guilty of doing w hat he did, namely, telling the world of sins confided by a brother.

1 w ill simply confine myself to w hat happened so as to provide you with the guidance that you need.

"Someone, by no means the least dedicated among the young men, came to an old man w horn I knew' well.

I le came for help, and he ex-

JOHN CASSIAN

plained that he vv as troubled by the urges of the flesh and by the spirit of fornication.

1 le felt sure that the prayers of the old man would ease his troubles and cure his wounds.

"But the old man l)crated him in the bitterest terms, calling him an unw orthv w retch, exclaiming that he had no right to bear the name of monk in view of the fact that he was stirred by this kind of sin and concupiscence. .\nd he so hurt the other w ith his reproaches that, as a consequence, the young man left the cell in utter misery and deadly despair. W eighed down with sadness, thinking deeply not so much about the cure for his passionate longing as about the realization of his desire, he met Apollo, the holiest of all the old monks. Apollo could see how troubled he was and how' fierce a battle he was silently w aging in his heart. Observing the depressed look on his face he asked to know the reason for such distress. The other could muster no reply to the gentle persistence of the old man. More and more the old man felt that it w as not for nothing that the reason for such wretchedness was being veiled in silence, and the other's expression could not hide w hat he really felt. So ever more insistently he began to demand to know the causes of such hidden grief. Cornered, the young man told his story and declared that since, according to the old man he had consulted, he w as incapable of being a monk and since he could neither check the urges of the flesh nor get a cure for his temptation he w as going to leave the monastery, get married, and return to the world.

"The old man soothed him w ith gentle consolation, claiming that he t(X) was moved each day by the same urges and tossed by the same storms. He urged him not to fall headlong into despair and not to be astonished by the ferocity of temptation. This was something to be conquered, not so much by the thrust of one's own effort as by the mercy and grace of the Lord. He asked the young man to hold off for just this one day and he begged him to go back to his cell.

"I le went as speedily as he could to the living quarters of the other old man and as he drew close to it he stretched out his hands and, w eeping, he prayed. 'Lord,' he said, 'you alone are the blessed judge of our hidden strength and the secret healer of human weakness. Turn the temptation aside from the youngster and on to that old man. Do this so that in his old age he may learn to reach down in kindness to the weaknesses of those in toil and may sympathize with the frailty of the young.'

"Moaning, he finished this prayer, and just then caught sight of a

CONFERENCE TWO

loathsome Ethiopian standing by that man's cell and hurling fiery javelins at him. The old man was immediately wounded and he came out of the cell and he began to run here and there like somebody gone mad drunk. He went out and in but could not remain there and he began to rush off along the same road taken by the young man.

It was, so far as the monk Abbas was concerned, as if he had been turned into a lunatic and as he watched him caught up in his ravings he understood that the devil's javelin, which he had seen, was now riveted in his heart and that it was producing in him a turmoil of the mind and an unbearably feverish upheaval of the senses. He drew near him. 'Where are you hurrying off to?' he said.

'W hat are the reasons which bring childish disturbance in you sufficient to make vou forget the serious behavior of old age and make you gad about in all directions?'

"The old man, tormented in conscience and upset by his own disgraceful agitation, began to think that his heart's passion had been detected and that the deep secret of his soul had been uncovered by the other old man. He could venture no reply to the other's questioning. 'Go back to your cell,' the old man said, 'and understand that up to now the devil either did not know about you or else that he despised you. Certainly he did not include you among those against whose progress and zeal he is moved to wage a daily war and struggle.

Here vou are, for all these years a monk, and not only were you unable to ward off a mere one of his javelins but you could not even repel it for one dav.

" 'I'he Lord has allowed you to be hurt so that in your old age you may learn to have sympathy for the weaknesses of others, so that you may learn, as a result of what has happened to yourself, to reach out to the frailtv of the young. A young man came to you struggling with the torments of the devil, and not only did vou offer him no consolation but you actually gave him over in his deadly despair to the hands of the enemy.

It was your fault that he was to be lamentably devoured by the enemy. And there can be no doubt that the vehemence of the assault on him arose on account of the fact that the enemy, who had so far not bothered with you, was jealous of the young man's future progress. He rushed to get in ahead of him and to bring low with his fiery arrows the goodness which he saw in his spirit.

I have no doubt at all that he realized that the young man is stronger than you are and so he thought it worth his while to attack him with such ferocity.

" 'k'rom what has happened you had better learn to have a feeling

JOHN CASSIAN

tor those \\ ho are at risk. Do not frighten off those who run the risk of tlamnat)le despair. Do not madden them with the harshest of words.

Instead, bring them back by means of mild and gentle consolation. Follow the advice of Solomon that most w ise man: "Rescue those w ho are being led aw av to death and do not be slow to hold back those who are to be killed" (Prv 24:

1 1). And, like our Savior, do not break the crushed reed and do not extinguish the smouldering wick (Mt

12:20), and beg of the Lord the grace to sing confidently and well: "The Lord gave me a disciple's tongue so that I may know how to fortify the tired man wdth mv word" (Is 50:4).

" 'And unless the grace of God comes to the help of our frailty, to protect and defend it, no man can withstand the isidious onslaughts of the enemy nor can he damp down or hold in check the fevers which burn in our tlesh w ith nature's fire. So it comes about that the purpose of our Lord's saving activity has now' been achieved. He has freed the young man from his dangerous fever and he has decided to teach you how vicious the attack can be and how necessary it is for us to be sympathetic. Let us therefore join together to beg the Lord to lift this affliction which he laid on you for your own good. "For it is He who makes the pain and again it is He wTo brings the healing; He strikes, and His hand has brought the cure" (Jb 5:18). "He lays low and lifts up high; he kills and grants life; he herds down to the kingdom of death and again is the leader out" (1 Kgs 2:6-7). May Fie spread the abundant dew' of Flis spirit to extinguish the devil's fiery javelins which, at my behest, I le permitted to strike you.'

"4 he old man's one prayer was enough. The Lord took away the temptation as speedily as he had inflicted it and that very obvious experience taught the lesson that not only must w e not denounce the fault which someone has admitted but we must also avoid despising any pain, however slight.

"Furthermore, the lack of skill or the friyolity of one old man or indeed of a few' must not turn you away from that road of salv ation of w hich I hav e been speaking, nor cut you off from w hat our fathers hav e taught us. Our enemy, w ho is very cunning, uses the white hair of age to fool the young. Let there be no falsely modest yeil. Eyerything must be told openly to our elders. From them must come the cure of injury and the example of life lived in all faith. I'here will be help and profit there for us, prov ided w e do not undertake anything on our personal decision and initiative.

CONFERENCE EWO

"Actually this is an idea so pleasing to God that we find the notion deliberately referred to in the holy Scriptures, t le arranged that the bov Samuel should be chosen but instead of teaching him directly He had him turn once or tw ice to an old man.

Ehis youngster, to w hom He had granted a direct encounter w ith Himself, had neyertheless to go for instruction to someone w ho had offended God, and all because that person w as an old man.

I ie decided that Samuel w as most w orthy of a high calling and yet I le made him submit to the guidance of an old man so that once summoned to a diyine ministry he might learn humility and might himself become for all the young a model of deference.

"(Christ I bmself summoned Raul and spoke to him.

I le could hav e straightaway disclosed the road to perfection. He chooses instead to send him to Ananias and tells him to discoyer the w ay of truth from him:

'Ciet up. Cio into the city, and there you w ill be told w hat you must do' (Acts 9:6).

I le sends him to an old man, thinking it better that he should be taught by him. W hat would have been quite appropriate in the case of Paul might turn out to be a bad example of presumptuousness of those coming later and someone might become conyinced that he should turn only to God for teaching and instruction rather than be educated by the teaching of older men. Indeed, not only in his letters but also in what he did and in the example he set the apostle himself show s that this presumptuousness is to be thoroughly abhorred. For this special reason he w ent up to Jerusalem, so that he might join his fellow apostles and predecessors in a priyate brotherly examination of that gospel w hich amid the accompanying grace of the I loly Spirit and amid pow erful signs and wonders he w as preaching to the gentiles.

'I laid before them the good news that I preach among the gentiles and I did so out of fear that the course I v\ as adopting or had already adopted would not be allowed' (Cial 2:2).

"W ho, then, could be so presumptuous, so blind, as to dare to rely upon his f)w n judgment and his own power of discernment and to do this after the 'v essel of election' bears w itness to the fact that he needed to confer w ith his fellow apostles?

1 lence it is clear that the road to perfection is revealed by the Lord to no man w ho is in a position to have teachers, w ho in fact has small regard for the ideas and the practices of

JOHN CASSIAN

older men and who makes light of that saying which he ought very properly to observe: 'Ask your father and 1 le will teach you, ask your elders and they will tell you' (I)t 32:7).

"So, then, we must seek in all humility to acquire the grace of discernment u hich can keep us safe from the two kinds of excess. For there is an old saying: 'Excesses meet.' Too much fasting and too much eating come to the same end. Keeping too long a vigil brings the same disastrous cost as the sluggishness which plunges a monk into the longest sleep, d'oo much self-denial brings weakness and induces the same condition as carelessness. Often

I have seen men who could not be snared bv gluttony fall, nevertheless, through immoderate fasting and tumble in w eakness into the very urge which they had overcome. Unmeasured vigils and foolish denial of rest overcame those whom sleep could not overcome.

I herefore, 'fortified to right and to left in the armor of justice,' as the apostle says (2 Cor 6:7), life must be lived with due measure and, v\ ith discernment for a guide, the road must be traveled between the two kinds of excess so that in the end we may not allow' ourselves to be diverted from the pathw ay of restraint which has been laid down for us nor fall through dangerous carelessness into the urgings of gluttony and self-indulgence.

"Now'

I remember so often resisting the appetite for food that, after two or three days of taking nothing, not even the reminder of eating would cross my mind. And the devil then w'orked it that the onset of sleep was so kept from my eyes that I spent many days and nights begging the Lord for a little rest.

I came therefore to realize that this reluctance to eat and this lack of sleep put me in much greater danger than the promptings of laziness and gluttony.

"We must rapidly ensure that we do not slide into danger on account of the urge for bodily pleasure. We must not anticipate food before the time for it and w e must not overdo it; on the other hand, when the due hour comes, we must have our food and our sleep, regardless of our reluctance. FLach battle is raised by the devil. Yet too much restraint can be more harmful than a satisfied appetite. Where the latter is concerned, one may, as a result of saving compunction, move on to a measured austerity. But with the former this is impossible."

CONFERENCE TWO

Germanus: "W hat, then, is the measure of self-restraint which is correct and by means of which we may pass unhurt between each kind of excess?"

Moses: "I know this was something often dealt with by our elders.

Fhey used to talk about the practices of self-restraint among many, those who lived solely on vegetables or herbs or fruit. They thought that what w as better than this w as the use of dry bread and they reckoned that the best measure was two small rolls, amounting in weight to barely one pound."

Fhis w as a measure which both of us gladly accepted and w hich, we said, w e considered w as what w as at least the requirement for selfrestraint.

It was an amount w hich we ourselves could not fully manage.

.Moses:

"If you want to experience the effect of this regulated amount keep firmly to it. And on Sunday or Saturday or when a brother comes to visit you, do not take some cooked food as an addition, since even though extra food can be a help this relaxation makes it harder both to be satisfied the rest of the time and to fast completely w ithout trouble. Someone sticking to this measure of food w ill not go on complete fasts nor postpone his food for a day. And I remember something that often happened among my elders. They would find this regime very difficult. They had to deal harshly with their appetites and they rose from table reluctantly, even with groans and sadness.

" fhe general rule to be followed in the case of abstinence is this.

One should take cognizance of the state of one's strength and body and age and allow oneself as much food as w ill sustain the flesh but not satisfy its longings.

I here will be the greatest danger for anyone w ho either restrains his appetite by excessive fasting or w ho opens up his appetite by too much eating, fhe spirit, brought low' by lack of food, loses the vigor of its prayerfulness. Too much w eariness w eighs it dow n into unlooked-for sleep. Or again, if it is caught in the grip of too much

JOHN CASSIAN

eating, it will not be able to utter pure and winged prayers to (iod. And the pure state of chastity will not be able to remain undisturbed either.

For on those days w hen the flesh is under the \\ hip of an extra rigorous abstinence, the very lack of food will stoke the fire of bodily longing.

2 .?

"One has to do w ithout that which abundance of eating has gathered together in the marrow; it must be driven out in accordance w ith the law of nature w hich ensures that any excess of an unnecessary moisture is a danger and must not be allowed to remain. In similar fashion, our body has to be checked by a restraint which is continuously reasonable and continuously observed in regular measure so that even though, w hile we remain in the flesh, we cannot escape completely from its necessary burden, still the course of a year w ill rarely—indeed, not more than three times—find us in the situation of being defiled by it. And this is something which should happen w ithout any desire disturbing the calm of our sleep. Nor should any deceptive image, proof of hidden urges to pleasure, arise as a provocation.

"d'his w as the thinking behind the just measures of restraint figured out, as I have said, by the fathers. Hence every day one should have dry bread, accompanied by hunger, and in this way soul and body w ill remain unchanged, neither brought low' by too much fasting nor dragged dow n by having too much. Restraint of this sort is so marked that one neither has a feeling about nor a memory of having eaten.

" Fhis of course is something which cannot be achieved w ithout some trouble, and as a result those who know' nothing of the perfection w hich is characteristic of discernment like to prolong their fast, to hold over their allowance of bread until the next day, and all this in order that at eating time they can really enjoy the anticipated satisfaction of their hunger. As you know, this was the persistent habit of Benjamin, your fellow' countryman.

I le did not wish to be held to the penitential daily ration of two rolls. He preferred instead to fast for two days in a row and then, at eating time, to give way to his appetite bv means of a double portion. Through the two days of fasting he was able to acquire his four rolls, thereby getting the chance both to satisfy his longings and to enjoy a full stomach.

1 le obstinately chose his own decisions in preference to w hat had been handed down by the fathers, and I have no doubt that you remember the sort of end he came to.

I le left the

CONFERENCE TWO

desert and slid back to the empty philosophy of this world and to the vanity of the day. His downfall is something which gives force to the rule handed on by the fathers, the teaching that whoever is guided solely by his own judgment and decision w ill never climb up to the summit of perfection and will not fail to be the victim of the devil's ruinous power to delude."

Germanus: "How can we hold unshakable to this guideline? The station fast is sometimes finished at the ninth hour. Brothers arrive and, in their honor, something has to be added to the regular measure or else we have to forgo that hospitality which we are commanded to display to everyone."

Moses: "Yes, we must observe each rule w ith the same attention.

I hat is, we must on the one hand be very careful, for the sake of selfrestraint and purity, to keep to the alloted measure of food. On the other hand, when our brothers arrive we must similarly fulfill the obligations of hospitality and fraternal concern, and all this for the sake of love. Indeed, it would be quite ridiculous to receive a brother at table or, rather, Christ himself—and then to take nothing of the meal, to be there like a stranger.

"But we w ill be open to neither the one nor the other criticism if we observe the follow ing plan. At the ninth hour let us eat only one of the two rolls allowed to us and let us put the other roll aside in anticipation of visitors.

If someone of the brethren comes w e can eat with him and have our roll and in this w ay we w ill not be adding to our usual measure. In this way the coming of a brother, w hich should afford us very much joy, w ill not turn into an occasion of distress. VVe w ill fulfill the requirement of hospitality w ithout easing the rigor of our self-restraint. And if no one comes w e can still freely eat the bread permitted us by rule. Since we w ill already have taken something at the ninth hour our stomach w ill not notice the extra little bite which our remaining roll provides. Furthermore, we will avoid the inconvenience normally experienced by those who put off their full meal until the ninth hour for the sake of a more rigorous fast. In fact, this food which they take prevents spiritual ease and freedom during the prayers in the evening and at night. There is a quite definite advantage in our freedom to eat at the ninth hour.

Fhe soul is free and ready for the vigils of the

JOHN CASSIAN

night and, with our food now digested, we are fully prepared for the solemnity of vespers." d'wice now the blessed Moses had nourished us with his teaching.

W ith his learned words he had not only shown the grace and the power of discernment but had in his first talk revealed the character, the purpose, and the objective of the life of renunciation. What we had earlier followed with closed eyes, so to speak, with only the thrust of our spirit and our zeal for God, this now put to us in a light clearer than day. We had the feeling that until now we had wandered at random, far from a true sense of direction, far from purity of heart. All this became very obvious to us as w e realized that even in the arts of the world, for all that we see of them, there has to be a precise objective. There is no arrival unless there is a definite plan to go.

↑ Back to top

↑