Prologue in Sermons: April 6

 

 

The Wise Peacemaker

April 6

(A discourse about a monk who humbled his brother for the sake of the cell.)

By Archpriest Victor Guryev

The seventh Beatitude reads: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God” (Matt. 5:9).

What does this mean? “It means that those who desire blessedness must not only behave toward all in a friendly manner and give no cause for discord, but must also, as much as possible, put an end to disagreements that arise among others and strive to reconcile those who are at enmity with one another. To peacemakers is promised, as a reward, the gracious name of sons of God and, without doubt, the degree of blessedness worthy of that name” (Catechism). Yet the labor of a peacemaker is not easy. Indeed, how difficult it is, for example, to restore broken friendship, to unite enemies, to extinguish between them mutual malice and hatred! Here, on the part of the peacemaker, there is required ardent love for one’s neighbor, often self-sacrifice, the wisdom of a serpent, and experience. And do you have all this? If not, let us learn how to act in matters of peacemaking from the saints of God.

A certain monk-hermit came for a short time to one of the sketes, and there an elder of the skete, who had an empty cell, invited the newcomer to live in it. The wandering monk settled there. Many began to come to him: some brought him all that was necessary, while others sought conversation with him; the newcomer received everyone with love. All this stirred up envy in the elder, the owner of the cell, and he began to murmur. “How many years have I lived here,” he said, “and no one has ever come to me, but this one has only just settled in, and everyone hastens to him.” Then he said to his disciple: “Go, tell him to leave the cell; I need it myself.” The disciple went, but instead of what he had been told, he said: “My father has sent me to ask about your health.” The monk took this as true and replied: “Tell your father to pray for me; I am not entirely well.” The novice returned to his elder and also lied: “The monk told me to say that he has found another cell and is leaving here.” Several days passed; the newcomer did not leave. The elder-owner again sent the young disciple to say that if he did not leave soon, he himself would come and drive him out with a staff. Again the disciple used cunning. “My elder,” he said to the newcomer, “heard that you are very ill and sent me to visit you.” The newcomer replied: “Tell your father that, by his prayers, I now feel well.” The disciple returned to his teacher and again used cunning. “The monk,” he said, “told me that he will certainly leave within a week.” A week passed, and the guest still did not leave. Then the elder-owner took his staff and went to drive him out. The disciple stopped the elder for a moment. “Father, wait a little,” he said, “I will run and see whether anyone is with him, lest there be scandal.” Meanwhile, running to the newcomer, he said: “My father is coming to invite you to him and to treat you.” Hearing this, the visiting elder went out to meet his host, bowed to him from a distance, and exclaimed: “I am not worthy that you should come for me; I will come to you without being summoned.” Only then did the elder understand the wise cunning of his disciple; he was moved in soul, threw down his staff, and hastened to greet his guest, at whom only a few moments before he had been greatly angered. After greeting him, he brought the guest into his cell and began to converse with him as with a friend. When the latter departed, he asked the disciple: “Did you tell him anything of what I commanded you?” The disciple answered: “No.” The elder rejoiced, understood that his anger toward the newcomer had been a suggestion of the devil, and, falling at the feet of his disciple, said: “From now on I am not your father, but you are mine; and you are not my disciple, but I am yours; for by your prudence you have saved both me and the guest.”

What a beautiful example for imitation — and how sad it is that in our time we almost never see such people as this wise disciple of the elder! What do we see today? Everywhere a desire to trip one another, to set one person against another, to inflate some trivial misunderstanding between neighbors into irreconcilable enmity and hatred. With what malicious delight, with what cunning malice, one constantly hears how someone reports to another what his enemy has said against him — and the fire grows and grows, and everywhere from this we see quarrels, disorder, family divisions, and similar evils. Is this how those who call themselves followers of Christ the Savior ought to act? Is this what He taught us? “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you,” He said (John 14:27). “By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). But do we have peace and love everywhere? Alas, in some they cannot be found even with a lamp in broad daylight. Let us come to our senses, brethren, and constantly remember that we are all children of one Heavenly Father and therefore brothers; that our life here is a school of love; that love for our neighbor is the foundation of the entire Christian law; and that the society of Christians ought to be its kingdom. Let it reign among us, and let all know that we are, not in word but in deed, truly the disciples of our Savior. Amen.

Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.