要理講辭 第 1 章 第 8/23 段

For this reason, therefore, using the Lord's commandment as a helper—as one spoken for us and for our weakness—we renounce all things and enter upon the narrow and afflicted way, and, as it were, cut ourselves off bodily from the world and from the things of the world; and thus, departing from another country and place and city, we arrive at another dwelling and abode, each one walking—or rather running swiftly on foot—into the arena for the exercise of the virtues by way of a manner of life and, as it were, of ascetic training, according to his own purpose.

...that we may acquire freedom from attachment to the things mentioned.

For on this account also, departing from the world, at once following the commandments of the Lord and obeying His ordinances, we begin the road that leads to the heavens.

But now consider well with me from this point the power of what is being said.

Sketch out for me in your mind a road entirely worn smooth by the feet of those who have rightly gone before.

These things being so, none of the things mentioned will be able either to entice us, or to shake our perception, or to do us harm, so long as we follow the saints who went before and walk the same road which they too trod.

For as we journey on the road of the commandments of the Lord and our God, and pass without turning back through the midst of all the things mentioned, none of those robbers nor of those wild beasts openly and shamelessly assaults us or dares to approach us—and especially if we follow a guide and travel together with good fellow-wayfarers.

Nevertheless, sometimes drawing near from afar, sometimes coming quite close, some of them use threats and look upon us with murderous eye, while others use certain enticements and flatteries and friendly conversations.

...and manifold occasions against us.

And not only by day but also in the very nights, and not only when we are awake but also when we are asleep, they rise up against us—sometimes with titillations and emissions, sometimes with tastings of forbidden foods, and at other times, coming upon us like sword-bearing robbers in robber fashion, with torches and lamps, they brandish death against us, thinking to throw us into confusion and to turn us aside from the straight way.

And some of them suggest to us that it is impossible to endure to the end the hardships on the road, while others say that these things are useless and can benefit those who labor in nothing.

Others say that there is no end at all to this road, nor ever will be, pointing to some of those who did not succeed—and especially those who grew old in the ascetic life and found no benefit from the time—because they did not run in knowledge and with a pious reckoning, in what seemed to them the course of the commandments, but did this by their own private willfulness and self-conceit; whose steps toward God are, as is fitting, accordingly cut off, since they grow fainthearted and turn back to what lies behind, and through negligence hand themselves over to the evil one, so that he may work in them what seems good to him.

But why do I wish to relate to you all, my spiritual brethren—and behold, they are beyond number—the ambushes and dreadful stratagems of the devil who is our adversary and of his evil spirits!

But leaving the greater part to be investigated by the diligent, and having provided them out of these few things the starting points, I shall attempt to demonstrate what I promised to your love:

the bond of our affectionate attachment to our kinsfolk, and how the devil binds us by it—and especially those who have shown their manliness against the other passions and have taken up the crown—and by which the evil one, to our misfortune, dispatches us to darkness and to destruction.

Consider yourself on the aforesaid road—either just having set foot upon it, or having walked on it for years—and having suffered many things at the hands of all those beasts and robbers mentioned, from the things we have described before, yet by the grace of Christ neither deceived by flatteries, nor stolen away by the beauty of visible things toward pleasure, nor bent by fear or threats so as to turn aside from the straight way or to cease from going forward, nor even turned back to what lies behind, but rather running the more vigorously.

When, therefore, you run in this way, has Satan grown quiet so as no longer to war against you, or will he ever grow quiet?

But knowing that God has given us a commandment to deny father and mother and simply all fleshly kinship, and moreover our very selves entirely;

and not only so, but that we have covenanted with God, when we came to the monastic manner of life, to keep this along with all the rest—since it could accomplish nothing against you by any of the things mentioned—what does he do?

First he stirs up and renews in us the memory of our own kin; then also, from the divine Scriptures, he sets before us things said concerning others and to others, for a turbid overturning and transgression of the commandment, saying:

'Honor your father,' says the divine Scripture, 'and your mother, and you shall not overlook those of your own seed';

'for he who does not provide for his own,' according to the divine apostle, 'has denied the faith'—the deceiver being ignorant, as is likely, that these things were said not that we should love those who begat us or our kinsfolk more than God and prefer them to His love, but that we might be trained in obedience and might learn that, if subjection and honor toward those who begat us is necessary, how much more that toward Him, the God who made both them and us.

as is likely, you are ignorant, and you deceitfully sow among us kinship according to the flesh, striving to drag us down into friendship with them and attachment.

Therefore, when we perceive the deception and come to knowledge—whether of ourselves, or from others who guide us or travel with us on the road of the Lord—what does he in turn whisper against us in the hidden movement of the heart?

'You,' he says, 'have by now advanced to other measures and to another degree of progress—one which none of the brethren dwelling with you knows—and you have acquired both freedom from attachment and complete dispassion.'

'Therefore, if you wish, you may overlook and despise your kinsfolk, and it will be no concern to you at all about them.'

Suggesting these things in secret, he perhaps also sets that very kinsman before him—either in thought or even bodily—and puts forth such things, saying to him:

'How can you allow the creation of God to perish, that it should become like the beasts and through ignorance fall into the rank of the irrational animals?'

'Will you not stretch out a hand, will you not open up his mind, will you not make him acknowledge God who made him?'

'And what excuse then will you have, or what will you say?'—he makes this one shed tears as if of compassion in prayer, and, as it were, offer him before God as an acceptable gift, saying within himself:

'He who brings forth the worthy out of the unworthy shall be as My mouth,' and:

'Inasmuch as you did it to one of these least, you did it to Me,' and again:

'Who became a father of orphans,' and what follows.

But all these things are a manifest error and deception of the evil one.

But when even after all these things someone is not persuaded, but still delays and speaks against the evil one:

'By all means,' he says, 'what I owe to do for my kinsman, this I will do for a stranger, who is rather my kinsman according to God than according to the flesh'—the deceitful enemy answers and says to him:

'And in every way God thus cares for all, and thus are all led into knowledge and faith of Him:'

'you, through your own kinsfolk or even through strangers, and He again through you—and through him, others.'

'And who now, in these days, is like you?'

'Or where will you let him go off, so that he may not straightway become the prey of a wolf and lose his soul—which you yourself will forfeit, if you utterly abandon him?'

Then, indeed then, the brother too, being deceived, stands firm and, with seeming good reason, accepts being bound by Satan; he no longer speaks against him, having become obedient to his words.

Having therefore bound him by attachment, he no longer walks about with him on the road, nor troubles him—for the present—about this matter, so that his plot may not be recognized.

Taking, as it were, the end of the rope, and having gone far off, he hides himself from him in the darkness—he who is truly the chief of darkness—having left to him the care and anxiety concerning his kinsman.

For he knows that this care, in his stead, continually troubles and pricks him.

When, therefore, this has happened, whenever he turns to any care whatsoever for the sake of his kinsman, he swerves from the royal and straight road on which he had set out;

and as much as he swerves, the enemy withdraws into some depth of his own villainy and, slipping in further within, hides himself, holding in his own hands the supposed rope of attachment and gripping it securely, and taking every care not to be recognized by him.

The brother, then, having fallen from the road, take note of what he begins to say within himself:

'He who has saved a soul is as one who has created it.'

And thus he persuades himself that he has undertaken to accomplish a work in imitation of Christ.

And if indeed he is acquainted with some of those in the world, he goes off to them, and sometimes flatters and praises them beyond their desert, and sometimes attempts to rebuke them severely.

At another time he shows himself gluttonous and indifferent, and speaks certain words in order to move everyone to laughter.

He conducts himself according to their will, so that, having been well received, they may give some money.

But if he sees no one giving him anything, he shamelessly does not desist from seeking everywhere, carrying about the remembrance of his kinsman.

And those who listen, being carnal and enmeshed in the same evils, rather praise the wretched man and say to him, 'You have a great reward.'

From these things attachment grows and takes root; or rather, the passion for it, like a cord, is knit fast to the neck's flesh (understood spiritually), and it is strengthened and becomes impossible to loosen.

Hence little by little it draws him away from pure prayer, and unbeknownst to him it transforms his tears shed for God into the opposite; and then it leads him into hatred and envy toward those who possess more than he, and who do not give to him without stint.

And not only this, but it also renders him slothful and disobedient toward every act of obedience.

Then he lies to himself and reckons the matter to be good stewardship, as though, forsooth, he were giving to God what is spent upon his kinsfolk; and not only this, but he even begins to steal from small things, and he is not persuaded that it is theft. Rather, his wits led astray by the passion, whatever he may do in defense of his own and his relatives, his conscience does not condemn him.

Therefore, when our enemy the devil has brought the lowly monk down into all these things, then he ties the very end of that cord (as it were) fast to the sin—already formed and rooted—of the passion of attachment, as though to a pillar firmly planted in the recesses of Hades, and lets go, confident that the man will never again be hauled up from there.

These things, then, we have said as a few out of many concerning those who strive.

For concerning those who approach this way of life and this discipline indifferently and contemptuously, what need is there even to say how great their attachment to their kinsfolk is—seeing that, like senseless birds, such men fall into every snare of the devil, having given themselves over to every passion? They become perpetual prey of the evil one, who prowls about and roars like a lion, seeking whom he may devour; and they choose rather to die than to be torn from his teeth and his most terrible maw.

But let us, who hear the word with faith, pray with our whole purpose and mind never to be deceived nor enticed, nor through any transgression, small or great, to fall away from the road that leads to heaven, nor to be bound by any passion; but rather, walking in it without turning back, let us hasten to overtake Jesus, who goes on before us.

And having laid hold of Him, let us fall down before Him and weep in the presence of His goodness, and fervently entreat that He never be wholly separated from us, nor allow us to fall outside the road—which road is that very One who said:

I am the way and the resurrection and the life.

Let us, then, seek Him out, let us be diligent to overtake Him, that we may also lay hold of Him; and if this comes to pass, and we live and share citizenship with Him—not only at our departure from this life but even now—may we ascend with Him into the heavens and be taken up together; or rather, may He Himself carry us up with Him and glorify us together with Himself, and grant us the enjoyment of the eternal good things. May it be granted to us all to attain these, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might now and ever and unto the ages of ages.

And that, unless by diligence we become partakers even now of participation in the Spirit, we cannot even be faithful and Christians, nor can we be named sons and children of God.

Brothers and fathers, if he who feigns virtue in order to deceive and destroy many is truly wretched, and stands condemned and abominable before both God and men, it is plainly evident that he who—being himself dispassionate—assumes some passion by pretense, for the salvation and benefit of many, after the manner of the ancient fathers, is praiseworthy and blessed.

For just as the devil, under the guise of a serpent and of counsel—counsel that seemed useful and profitable, but was in truth deadly, and that robbed man of God and of all the fruits in paradise—showed himself to be a fighter against God and a murderer of men, so likewise he who, under the guise of malice, utters certain seemingly wicked words, so that having learned what the pretenders of virtue and piety are accomplishing for the devil, he may turn those who work evil to repentance and salvation and confession—such a one becomes truly an imitator of good, a fellow worker with God, and manifestly a savior of men. But this is the work of those alone whose sense-perception is insensible to this air and to the world and to the perception of its affairs; whose mind does not cling with passion to visible things, but has passed beyond the lowliness of the body—I mean those equal to the angels, who are perfectly united to God and have wholly acquired the whole Christ within themselves in deed and experience, in perception and knowledge and contemplation.

It is therefore an evil thing to eavesdrop or secretly to observe what one's neighbor is saying or doing—that is, if one does so in order at some opportune moment to reproach, or disparage, or revile, or publicly denounce the things one has seen or heard.

But if one does this in order to correct his neighbor's affairs with compassion and wisdom and prudence, and from the soul to pray for him with tears, such a thing is not wicked.

For I myself have seen a man employing many devices and many ways so that nothing of what was being done or said by those with him might escape his notice;

yet he did not do this to cause harm—God forbid!—but so that he might turn one man away from contrary deeds and thoughts by a word, another by gifts, and yet another by some other pretext.

And I saw this same man now weeping on account of one person, now lamenting over another, and now even striking his own face and his breast on behalf of yet another—clearly taking upon himself the person of the one who had sinned in word or in deed, and reckoning himself to be the very one who had done the evil, confessing to God, falling prostrate, and mourning vehemently.

And I saw another man rejoicing so greatly over those who were succeeding and striving, and welcoming their progress so warmly, that it seemed as though he himself, rather than they, was about to receive the rewards of their virtues and labors;

but over those who fell in word or deed and persisted in evils, he grieved and groaned so greatly that it seemed as though he alone were in truth being required to render an account on behalf of all of them and to be delivered over to punishment—

out of a disposition that imitates God and Moses, wishing by no means to be saved alone.

For having been spiritually bound to them by holy love in the Holy Spirit, he would not even choose to enter into the very kingdom of heaven and be separated from them.

O holy bond! O ineffable power! O soul of heavenly mind—or rather, let me say, God-bearing, and made utterly perfect in the love of God and of neighbor!

He, then, who has not yet attained to this love, nor beheld even a trace of it in his own soul, nor perceived its presence at all, is still by nature hidden in the earth and in the things of the earth—or rather, under the earth—like the creature called the mole: he too is blind, just like that animal, and hears only by the ear those who speak upon the earth.

O the calamity! that, having been begotten of God and made immortal, having become partakers of a heavenly calling, heirs of God and joint-heirs of Christ, and citizens of the heavens, we have not yet received the perception of such great good things;

but insensibly, so to speak, just as iron is cast into fire, or as a lifeless hide is dipped, without perceiving it, in scarlet dye, so we too, though set in the midst of God's so great good things, remain disposed as we are, confessing that we have no perception of them within ourselves.

And as though we were already saved and enrolled among the saints, we plume ourselves, striking poses and adorning ourselves and feigning holiness; and, playing our parts wretchedly as upon a dancing-stage or a theater, we make ourselves like the mimes and the harlots, who—not possessing natural beauty—foolishly suppose they can adorn themselves with cosmetics and strange dyes.

But the characters of the saints who are begotten from above are not such as these.

It is needful to know that, just as the infant, when it comes forth from the mother's womb, imperceptibly perceives this air and is at once moved of its own accord to weeping and wailing, so likewise he who is begotten from above—coming forth out of this world as out of a dark womb, entering into the noetic and heavenly light, and, as it were, peering a little way within it—is straightway filled with ineffable joy and pours forth tears without pain, considering, as is fitting, from what he has been delivered and into what manner of light he has been counted worthy to come;

for this is the beginning of anyone's being enrolled among Christians.

But those who have not yet come to know and contemplate such a good, nor sought it with much perseverance and with lamentations and tears—so that, being cleansed through such works, they might attain to it and, being wholly united to it, have communion with it—tell me, can they be called Christians at all?

For if that which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit, then he who has been born bodily and become a man, yet has never even considered, or believed, or been diligent that he ought also to be born spiritually—how then could he become spiritual and number himself among spiritual men? Unless, secretly—like one clad in filthy garments—he insinuates himself among the saints who wear bright raiment, and, having reclined with them at the royal table, be cast out bound hand and foot, as not a son of light but of flesh and blood, and be consigned to the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.

For he who has received the authority to become a son of God and an heir of the kingdom of heaven and of eternal good things—who has learned in many ways, through what works and commandments he must be raised up to this honor and glory—and yet has despised all these things, and has instead preferred earthly and perishing things, and chosen the swinish life, and reckoned temporary glory to be better than eternal glory: how shall he not justly be separated from all the faithful, and be condemned along with the unbelievers, together with the devil himself?

Therefore I exhort you all, brothers and fathers: be diligent while there is yet time and while we are among the living; strive that you may become sons of God, that you may be named children of light—for these things the birth from above bestows upon us. Hate the world and the things in the world; hate the flesh and the passions born of it; hate every evil desire and covetousness, down to the smallest kind and thing.

And this we shall be able to do if we consider the greatness of the glory and joy and delight that is destined to receive us.

For tell me, what is so much greater in heaven or on earth than for someone to become a son of God, and His heir, and a joint-heir of Christ?

But because we prefer earthly things and the things in hand, and because we do not seek the good things laid up in the heavens nor hang upon the longing for them, we furnish to those who behold us plain proof that, first, we are gripped by the disease of unbelief, as it is written:

How can you believe, receiving glory from men, yet not seeking the glory that comes from the only God? Then, having become slaves of the passions, we are nailed to the earth and to the things in it, being utterly unwilling to lift up our gaze toward the heavens and toward God; but in the folly of our soul, transgressing the commandments of God, we fall away from His adoption.

For tell me, what is more foolish than the one who disobeys God and is not diligent to attain to His adoption?

For he who believes that God exists forms great conceptions concerning Him.

For he knows that He alone is the Master and Creator and Lord of all things, and that He is immortal, eternal, incomprehensible, ineffable, incorruptible, and that of His kingdom there shall be no end.

He, then, who knows God to be such, how shall he not long for Him?

How shall he not be diligent to lay down even his very soul unto death for love of Him, so that he may be counted worthy—I will not say to become His son and heir—but at least to be one of His genuine servants, of those who stand near Him?

But if everyone who strives and keeps inviolate all the commandments of God both becomes a child of God and a son of God begotten from above, and is truly recognized by all as faithful and a Christian—while we, on the other hand, despise God's commandments and set at nought His laws (which He will vindicate when He comes again in glory and dread power), and show ourselves, in respect to the faith, unbelievers by our very works, and, in respect to unbelief, believers by our words alone [it will go ill with us].

For without works—do not be deceived—faith alone will profit us nothing;

for it is dead, and the dead do not become partakers of life, unless first, through the working of the commandments, they shall seek that life.

For in this working there springs up within us, like a manifold fruit, love, almsgiving, compassion toward one's neighbor, gentleness, humility, patient endurance of trials, chastity, purity of heart—through which we are counted worthy to see God, and in which comes the presence and illumination of the Holy Spirit, which also begets us from above and makes us sons of God, and clothes us with Christ, and kindles the lamp, and shows us to be children of light, and frees our souls from darkness, and even now, already, makes us knowingly partakers of eternal life.

Let us not, then, presuming upon certain other works and virtues alone—fastings, I mean, or vigils, or sleeping on the ground, and various other hardships—despise this working of the Lord's commandments, as though we could be saved through those and without this.

For this is impossible—impossible!

And let the five foolish virgins persuade you of this, and those who worked many signs and wonders in the name of Christ, who—because they did not have within themselves love and the grace of the All-holy Spirit—heard from the Lord:

I do not know you, from whence you are. And not only these, but along with these many others also, who were indeed baptized by the holy apostles and by the saints who came after them, but who—not being counted worthy of the grace of the Holy Spirit because of their excessive wickedness—neither displayed a life worthy of the calling to which they were called, nor were named children of God, but remained flesh and blood, having neither believed that there is a Spirit, nor sought Him, nor expected to receive Him. Hence such men will never have the strength to become masters over the desires of the flesh nor over the passions of the soul, nor will they display anything noble in the virtues; for the Lord says:

Without me you can do nothing.

But I exhort you, fathers and brothers: let us be diligent with all our strength, that we may be counted worthy to become partakers, even from this present life, of the gift of the Holy Spirit, so that we may attain both the present and the future good things, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory unto the ages.

And who is it that feeds God when He is hungry, and gives Him drink when He thirsts, and so forth?

And that, unless one does all these things also within himself, and feeds and gives drink to Christ, he will gain no benefit from doing these things merely toward the poor, while overlooking himself as unfed and stripped bare of the righteousness of God.

Brothers and fathers, I ought by rights not to dare to address you at all, nor to occupy the rank of a teacher before your charity;

but since you know that, just as the instrument fashioned by the craftsman produces its sound not whenever it wills, but only when its pipes are filled with breath and it is struck rhythmically by the craftsman's fingers—then it produces the sound and fills the ears of all with the sweetest melody—so likewise you ought to think that it comes to pass with me; and not, looking to the meanness of the instrument, be disagreeably disposed toward the things that are about to be said.

But rather, looking to the grace of the Spirit, which breathes from above and fills the souls of the faithful, and to the very finger of God, which strikes the sinews of the mind and rouses us to speak—as to a lordly trumpet sounding, or, to speak more truly, as to the King of all things speaking to us as through an instrument—hear with fear and trembling, in understanding and in much stillness.

All of us as human beings—both faithful and unfaithful, small and great—ought to take heed and give attention to ourselves: that we who are unbelievers may come to the knowledge and faith of the God who made us, and that we who are faithful may, conducting ourselves nobly, be shown to be well-pleasing to Him in every good work;

For inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.

I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat; I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink—or is this said concerning bodily and perishable food?

For He truly thirsts and hungers for the salvation of each one of us; and our salvation is the abstaining from all sin;

and to accomplish the abstaining from all sin, apart from the working of the virtues and the fulfilling of all the commandments, is impossible.

For through the fulfilling of the commandments our Master and God and Lord of all is wont to be fed by us.