September: Day 25: Teaching 3: Saint Sergius, Wonderworker of Radonezh

September: Day 25: Teaching 3:
Saint Sergius, Wonderworker of Radonezh
 
(What Shortens Our Life?)

By Archpriest Grigory Dyachenko

I. On the day of Venerable Sergius, who, through his pious life, attained a very advanced age despite the strictest abstinence and exhausting labors, let us, brethren, speak about “what shortens our life.”

II. Our life is short, my friends; yet we ourselves urge God to shorten our already short life more and more. There was only one good place on earth: Paradise. And the only life there was for us was life in Paradise. Only the life of Paradise could truly be called life. It passed amid all the joys that the human heart could desire. Adam and his helper enjoyed everything that was without sin; their bodies were beautiful, and their souls even more beautiful, because they were holy and Godlike; their hearts rested in God and in His holy will; their desires were directed only toward God, the Source of blessings, for whose gifts they offered Him thanksgiving; their consciences were pure. They were children in whom the heavenly Father was reflected. They had no one to fear, nothing to weep over; and a divine remedy had been given against old age.

And what happened? Sin changed everything! Sin made man an enemy of God and His will, and gave him another, most terrible form. It made his holy and God-loving soul exceedingly self-loving, and turned the world into such a hospital that nothing can be heard in it but groaning and nothing can be seen but calamity! Sin itself terribly shortened life; it brought death not only into the world but also into our bodies; and this evil mistress, reigning over men, crushes them with various diseases and finally reduces them to dust.

The blessedness of Paradise passed away like a dream, and only its bitter memory remains with us. “And death reigned from Adam even to Moses,” and to us, “even over those who had not sinned according to the likeness of Adam’s transgression” (Romans 5:14). Yet we still see the mercy of God toward mankind and His good will toward the continuation of their lives. Methuselah lived 969 years. The great men whom we call forefathers, or patriarchs, likewise lived for several hundred years and present to us an example of virtue rewarded with prosperity and longevity. What then? Perhaps this would remain as an inheritance for the human race? But no. Ungodliness increases on the earth, injustice grows stronger, wickedness and inhumanity increase, lawlessness pours forth like a flood, sins cry out to heaven, the Most High is provoked, and in retribution He decrees and says: “My Spirit shall not remain in these men forever, because they are flesh; their days shall be 120 years” (Genesis 6:3).

If only our poor life had at least remained within this decree of God! Let a man live 120 years; perhaps, after living so many years in the fear of God and piety, which, according to the word of Paul, “is profitable for all things, having promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come,” we might see with our own eyes, in ourselves and in our children’s children, the blessing of God and, comforted by it, go to the grave as through the doors of the heavenly Kingdom, to God as to our loving Father.

But everything is not so. Sin, having established its reign in human hearts, has driven out the love and fear of God, and a desperate, God-hating life has appeared among men, together with such deeds as their God-murdering hearts desire. “For,” according to the word of Solomon, “their heart devises evil!”

But Your justice, O Lord, corresponds to our life, and we rightly lose even Your mercy according to our deeds. And if one person in a thousand is deemed worthy of it, he is a wonder. For already, “the days of our years are seventy years, and if by reason of strength, eighty years; yet their greater part is labor and sorrow...” Forty years have been taken away, or are appointed for particular illnesses!

But as a punishment, even the final number of years allotted to us is sometimes taken away, and we die in the midst of our days; and many do not even live to the middle of them. We die in the first flower of our years—in the cradle; we die on the very day on which we were born; we die in our mother’s womb. We die so that those who give birth may see the wrath of heaven against sin, while those who die may be saved from the sins in which, by imitating their fathers, they would otherwise have begun to drown.

Good people harm no one by their lives, but do as much good as they can to everyone; they love everyone, and everyone loves them, and they would gladly give them a portion of their own days. Their life is measured not by days but by virtues; for an evil person does not do as much good to anyone in the course of seventy years as a virtuous person does in the course of seven days.

Nevertheless, even good people often die before their time, and are cut down when no one expects it. He who looks down from heaven upon all things, seeing that the good will not remain good for long, and that the wicked will make the good like themselves, does not allow them to live any longer. This is why Solomon says concerning the righteous: “He was taken away, lest wickedness should change his understanding, or deceit beguile his soul. Having been perfected in a short time, he fulfilled many years; for his soul was pleasing to the Lord, therefore He hastened him from the midst of wickedness” (Wisdom 4:11, 13–14).

How long and how firmly trees and stones endure! We alone, in comparison with them, are nothing! Many animals are exceedingly strong and long-lived; but man—their ruler—is weak, and often trembles before his own subjects. Silver is durable, gold is long-lasting; but the lover of money soon dies and becomes dust.

We dare not compare our life with eternity. Eternity is a sea without shores, while our life is a drop of rain that falls upon the earth—and no trace of it remains. God is and abides; but we are a shadow, and our life is a phantom. Life is as small as a breath: I breathe, and a portion of my life has vanished forever... and whether I shall breathe again, I do not even know, for all sinners are threatened with this punishment: “If you will not obey Me, I declare to you this day that you shall surely perish, and you shall not remain many days upon the earth.”

And if, brethren, we also consider that man is often burdened with such afflictions that he cries out with Job: “Why did I not die in the womb? Why did I not perish when I came forth from the womb?” (Job 3:11), then will not our life appear twice as short if, for the purposes of calculation, we select from it only those happy days that must almost be searched for with a candle?

I know that life is not without consolation; but this is a drop of sweetness in a cup of bitterness. “While the food was still in their mouths” of the feasting people, “the wrath of God rose against them,” says Saint David concerning the Israelites. Such are our joys in this world! And if someone finds consolation even in the brevity of this sorrowful life in the thought that he will not suffer in this world for long, what then will become of us if, because of our lack of repentance, we are condemned to eternal suffering after this brief affliction?

III. My brethren! This little life has been given to us so that we may prepare for the great life, and this brief life for eternal life. Yet we make provision for everything for the days to come, and for the fearful day alone—for nothing! For the holidays we have fine garments, but for the eternal feast and celebration—nothing at all! We remember everything and concern ourselves with everything, but we have forgotten our soul; and this is all the more terrible because we have only one soul. For, given our evil nature, we would need at least four souls: having lost one to the love of money, another to ambition, and a third to love of pleasure, we might then be saved with the fourth.

Our thoughts are lofty, but they do not fly toward heaven. Our desires are infinite, but they do not strive toward infinite life. Our counsels are wise, but they lead to destruction—first that of others, and then our own. We have many words, but not the words with which to stand before the judgment of God. We have love, but not love for God. We have fear, but not fear of eternal torment.

Let us care, brethren, for our soul and its salvation, so that at death we may joyfully entrust it into the hands of God, as one worthy of those hands. “The numbered years have come, and we are going by a way from which we shall not return.” Amen.

(Compiled from the Words of Archpriest I. Levanda.)

 

Source: A Complete Annual Cycle of Short Teachings, Composed for Each Day of the Year. Translated by John Sanidopoulos.