The Reasons for Spiritual Laziness in Us
April 25
(A Word from the Paterikon)
By Archpriest Victor Guryev
April 25
(A Word from the Paterikon)
By Archpriest Victor Guryev
Once a hermit was conversing with a brother about spiritual benefit. During the conversation, the listener grew heavily drowsy, so much so that he could not even raise his eyes. But when the speaker changed the subject and began to speak idle things, the drowsy one immediately came to himself, rejoiced, and began to listen attentively to the idle talk (Prol. Apr. 25).
We have related this brief story to you, brethren, because, in our opinion, it applies more closely than to anyone else to Christians of today — and not only to some, but to very many. Indeed, let us look at ourselves impartially. Here comes the Lord’s Feast; the church bells summon to church; conscience also commands us to go there; but how difficult it is, for example, to rise for Matins! All your infirmities will rise up here, and despondency and a certain kind of discontent will weigh you down.
And suppose that at that same time there were a feast somewhere: we would count every minute, hoping to get there as quickly as possible. A Bible lies on the table, and beside it an empty book filled with worthless fables: it is rare that the latter is not preferred to the former. They speak about God, about the soul, about eternal salvation — they grow drowsy, they are bored, they patiently wait for the conversation to end. But if some jester appears and begins to tell tall tales, everyone comes alive, everyone rejoices, everyone shows him the greatest attention and showers him with praise.
Yet this is only a drop in the ocean; it seems impossible to count all the cases in which we show our neglect of the Divine and our attachment to the worldly and sinful. What does this mean? Why is it so?
Our aversion to spiritual exercises proceeds from our lack of habit in them. Our soul, brethren, is so constituted that it needs daily renewal of its strength through contemplation of God, just as the body needs nourishment through food. Yet how many of us are truly mindful of God? Our days are consumed with worldly affairs, and part of our rest is also consumed with worldly concerns. And if we ever indulge in thoughts of God, of our soul, or of the future life, it is usually as though these were matters of least importance.
And in such a condition, when our mind and heart are clogged with worldly cares, can we become responsive to that which we think about least of all? Alas! Water does not pass through a clogged channel but flows by it, and the seed that falls by the wayside, on stones and among thorns, bears no fruit. And everything spiritual, Divine, because it is alien to us, finds little sympathy in our hearts and therefore seems dry and dull, especially when worldly cares are joined with a passion for earthly pleasures.
During the day — worldly occupations; in the evening — one must amuse oneself with empty spectacles or cards. Look also at those in lowly circumstances: on weekdays they labor — they have no time for divine contemplation and prayer; and on feast days again they have no time, because they must squander what they have laboriously earned during the week. Can such people be attentive to the Divine, when they have dulled their minds, corrupted their will, and coarsened their hearts? Alas, says the Lord, they do not gather figs from thorns nor grapes from a bramble bush (Luke 6:44).
Therefore, in order not to grow weary of the Divine, we must love the Divine. And in order to love it, as you see, we must accustom ourselves to prayer and contemplation, and more often lift up our hearts to where we are all shown the path after death — where our Lord is, who begot us by His precious Blood, and where our true homeland is.
At the same time, let us not overburden ourselves with worldly cares, and let us not prematurely indulge even in innocent pleasures; for all these are only illusions and not true blessings. Amen.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
