Three Friends
April 16
(A Parable of Barlaam the Elder About Three Friends)
By Archpriest Victor Guryev
April 16
(A Parable of Barlaam the Elder About Three Friends)
By Archpriest Victor Guryev
Although the Lord teaches us to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness (Matt. 6:33), and assures us that if we seek Him, all that is necessary for temporal life will also be added to us, yet we somehow listen little to the words of the Savior. Instead of enriching ourselves with virtues for the attainment of the Kingdom of Heaven, we care most of all about acquiring temporal and perishable goods, and in them we place all our hope. “I have,” says the greater part of us, “a wife and children. What will they be left with after me? How will they live if I do not provide for them?” And a person begins to think only about money, and in sleep and in waking sees only money, dreams only of it, and places in it the chief good. But care for the one thing needful — for conscience and the immortal soul, for adorning oneself with virtues — he considers, if he considers it at all, the very last object of his concern. And meanwhile, how does all this end? The lover of money dies, and his money remains on this side of the grave. In the other world it will not be needed by him; there what would be most necessary and most useful for him is precisely that to which in life he paid the least attention, and which in fact ought to have been the first object of his care.
“There were,” says in one of his parables the Venerable Barlaam, “three friends of a certain man. The first two he loved especially and was ready until death to sacrifice everything for them, while toward the third he behaved with neglect and had little attachment. But it happened that soldiers came to this man from the king and with threats ordered him quickly to come to the king to give account of a debt of ten thousand talents of silver. Having nothing with which he could pay such a great debt, he went to seek help from his friends. He came to the first, told him of his misfortune, and asked for help. But the friend whom he had loved so much said: ‘I am not your friend and I do not know who you are; I now have many friends without you, and I am going with them to make merry; and when these are gone, others will come. Here, take these two rags, put them on, but expect nothing more from me.’ Seeing that nothing more could be obtained here, the man went to his second friend, whom he also loved very much, and said: ‘Friend, remember how I always valued your friendship and what honor you received from me; now I am in sorrow and in great trouble — help me.’ He answered: ‘Today I am busy, and I myself am in grief; I will, perhaps, accompany you a little on the way to the king, but expect nothing more from me.’ And the man returned empty-handed from both of his closest friends. Then he went to the third friend, whom until now he had almost neglected. He entered to him with a sad and ashamed face and said: ‘I do not dare even to open my mouth to speak with you, because I have done you no good and have never shown you any respect; but great trouble has come upon me, and I have no one to turn to except you for help. I went to two friends, and they refused me; if you can, help me in some way and forget my neglect of you.’ This friend answered him: ‘Indeed, I consider you a man close to me, and remembering the small good you did for me, I will now repay it to you in abundance. Do not fear or be terrified; I will entreat the king for you, and he will not deliver you into the hands of your enemies; take courage, my beloved, and do not grieve.’ Then the man cried out with tears: ‘Alas for me! What shall I begin to weep over first — that I in vain showed honor and love to ungrateful friends, or the neglect which, in my foolishness, I showed to this true and sincere friend?’”
What does this parable mean? The first friend is destructive greed for gain and perishable wealth itself, which abandons a man at death and gives him only two rags for burial — a shirt and a shroud. The second friend is family and acquaintances, whom we often love to the point of forgetting God; but from them also there is little help at death, for they only accompany a person to the grave, and then, amid their own cares and concerns, they too forget him. The third friend is our good deeds, which undoubtedly become, so to speak, intercessors for us before God after the separation of the soul from the body; they will entreat God for us and help us pass freely through the aerial toll-houses. These, therefore, are our true friends, who remember even our small benefactions and repay them abundantly.
Therefore, let us not forget that everything earthly must remain on this side of the grave, and that only our deeds will follow after us, and the good among them will constitute our true treasure in heaven. Let us not cling to that which sooner or later we must leave forever; let us care to enrich ourselves with that by which we shall live for all eternity. “Blessed is the man,” says Dimitri of Rostov, “who places all his hope in God, who lays up treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust corrupt, and where thieves do not break in nor steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also, says the Lord (Matt. 6:20–21). Do not set your heart,” he continues, “on present things, for they will not long remain yours. Despise what is below, that you may be enriched with what is above. Despise what passes away, that you may receive what is eternal and be made worthy of everlasting blessings in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Amen.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
