Prologue in Sermons: October 3

 

The Benefit of Reflecting on Death

October 3

(From a discourse of Saint John Climacus on Blessed Hesychios the Chorebite and Hesychast)

By Archpriest Victor Guryev

Because we live as though we would never have to die, and almost never think about death, for the most part it catches us completely unprepared, and then our terror is boundless. “How can I part with my possessions, title, and honors? How can I appear in the next world with my sins? How shall I give an account of them before God?” This is how we think, but we think so only when it is already too late. This would not be the case if we were constantly thinking about death. Constant reflection upon it would draw us away from sins and kindle in us zeal for virtue, and through this it would teach us to meet death not with terror, but with joy.

Blessed Hesychios the Chorebite, who at first lived in negligence and laziness, resolved to reform himself after a severe illness and, in order to establish himself in his new life, made it a rule to think constantly about death. Such reflection not only drew him away from sins, but also raised him to a high degree of virtue. For twelve years he remained continuously in his cell in silence, partaking only of bread and water and weeping day and night over his sins. When the hour of his death came, the brethren entered and began to entreat him to say something to them for their edification, at least before his death. Convinced by experience of the benefit that remembrance of death brings to a person, Hesychios, instead of giving them any instruction, exclaimed: “Forgive me, brethren! Whoever has remembrance of death can never sin.” And with these words he gave up his spirit to the Lord. And truly, brethren, he cannot sin! “Remember your end, and you will never sin,” teaches the wise son of Sirach (Sirach 7:39).

And once we have freed ourselves, insofar as possible, from sins, it is self-evident that we will meet death with joy; for it is terrible only for sinners, while for the righteous it is a passage from darkness into light, from prison into freedom, from toil into rest, from a foreign land into our native land. 

 

A certain pious elder, having reached an advanced old age, finally took to his deathbed. The brethren surrounded him and wept bitterly at having to part from him. The elder, on the contrary, was filled with joy and, opening his eyes, quietly smiled; after remaining silent for a little while, he smiled again, and after several minutes of silence, he smiled a third time. “We are weeping, while you are laughing,” the brethren said to him. “Yes,” the elder replied, “I am laughing. The first time I laughed because all of you are afraid of death; the second because you are not prepared for it; and the third because I am going from toil to rest” (Prologue, April 30).

Therefore, brethren, if you do not wish to fear death, constantly reflect upon it. Just as a soldier who is always prepared to do battle with the enemy does not fear him, so we, if we are prepared, will not fear death, but will meet it with joy. Amen.

Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.