History of the Shroud

A year ago, my dear Friend, in one of my letters to you, I briefly—I remember, on two pages—touched on the issue of monasticism and Christianity, their essential unity. An even shorter answer followed from you, where you do not undertake to argue with me, but still do not agree. And I would like to establish friendly unanimity with you on this issue. It annoys me to feel that in this case our unanimity is hampered only by a widespread prejudice, which, to my regret and chagrin, you partly share. I say partly because I don’t want to believe me and know that this prejudice is deeply rooted in your soul. “What kind of prejudice?” - you ask. Prejudice against monasticism. It consists, in my opinion, in the fact that monasticism is extolled too much, but not sincerely, but only with the sly purpose of later scolding it more than it should. The prejudice against monks and monasticism is cunning on one side, namely: they think that the Christian ideal in all its height is obligatory and needed only by monks, and by the laity... well, the laity needs something more similar, easier. "We are not monks!" This explains and excuses everything for the laity. I even read an interesting detail in the report of one of the sensational trials. One gentleman is being questioned whether he cheated on his wife and how often. He replies: “Of course, I didn’t live as a monk!” Doesn't that seem typical to you? We now have two Christianity, two Christian ideals: one for monks, the other for laity. I consider such a division of Christ’s ideal to be absurd in principle and extremely harmful in practice. That is why it saddens me to realize that my intelligent and kind-hearted friend is inclined to share a prejudice that grew out of human thoughtlessness. This harmful prejudice, my friend, does not suit you, and I ask you and me to think again about the question I posed. So, one Christianity or two? Is Christ's ideal one or different? I think you will agree with me without argument that Christianity is one and Christ’s ideal is one. But maybe, ideally, different stages of perfection? Friend! After all, this is absurdity! Are there ideally higher and lower levels? After all, the ideal is infinity, and infinity is always equal to itself. Do you know where the ideal of Christianity is briefly expressed? In the 48th Art. Chapter V of the Gospel of Matthew: “Be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). Are any degrees acceptable in this ideal? Of course, in achieving this “be perfect” there may be countless steps, but the ideal still remains the same, and it is the same for everyone. After all, Christ taught not monks, but all people - and he taught one. Really, friend, it’s somehow awkward for me to reveal the Gospel and prove what is self-evident. Alas, in our time, hostility to monasticism has blinded many so much that they are ready to reject even self-evident truths. In order to stop the lips of those who share the ideal of Christ, I will cite the wonderful words of St. John Chrysostom, which I advise you to think about in order to agree with me. Saint Chrysostom writes: “You are very mistaken and deceived if you think that something different is required from a layman, and another from a monk; the difference between them is that one marries and the other does not; in all other respects they are subject to the same responsibility. Thus, one who is angry with his brother in vain, whether he is a layman or a monk, equally offends God, and one who looks at a woman “to lust after her,” whether he is one or the other, will equally be punished for this adultery (Matthew 5:22, 28). If we can add something based on consideration, then a layman is less excusable in this passion; because it does not matter whether he is seduced by the beauty of a woman who has a wife and enjoys this pleasure, or whether he who has no such help at all (against passion) will be caught in this sin. Also, the one who swears, whether he is one or the other, will be equally condemned, because Christ, when he gave commands and laws regarding this, did not make such a distinction and did not say that if the one swearing is a monk, then his oath is from the evil one, but if he is not a monk, then not; but simply and generally said to everyone: “I tell you not to swear in any way” (Matthew 5:34). And having said: “Woe... to those who laugh” (Luke 6:25), he did not add to the monks, but in general he laid down this rule for everyone; This is what He did in all other great and wondrous commands. When, for example, He says: “blessed are the poor in spirit, ... weeping, ... meek, ... hungry and thirsty for righteousness, ... mercy, ... purity of heart, ... peacemakers, ... cast out for the sake of righteousness,” bearing for Him from outside (non-believers) the mentioned and unmentioned reproaches (Matthew 5:3-11), He does not give the name of either the layman or monk; such a difference is brought about by the human mind. The Scriptures do not know this, but want everyone to live the life of monks, even if they have wives. Listen to what Paul also says (and when I speak about Paul, I speak again about Christ). Paul, in his letter, addressing people who have wives and raising children, demands from them all the severity of life characteristic of monks. Thus, eliminating all luxury both in clothing and in food, he writes the following words: “Let women adorn themselves with fashionable ornaments, with shame and chastity, not in wickerwork, or gold, or beads, or costly garments” (1 Tim. 2:9); and again: “But she that feedeth abundantly died alive” (1 Tim. 5:6); and again: “having food and clothing, we will be satisfied with these” (1 Tim 6:8). What more could be demanded from monastics? And teaching to control the tongue, he again lays down strict rules, ones that are difficult for monks to follow, because he eliminates not only shameful and rude speech, but also buffoonery, drives out from the mouths of the faithful not only rage, anger, and resentment, but also the cry: “Let all grief and anger and rage and crying and blasphemy be taken away from you with all malice,” he says (Eph. 4, 31). Or does this not seem enough to you? Wait and you will hear much more about what he commands everyone about kindness, “Let not the sun go down on your anger” (Eph. 4:26), “Be careful that no one repays evil for evil: but always pursue goodness towards one another and towards everyone” (1 Thess. 5:15), and also: “Do not Be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:21). Do you see the degree of wisdom and long-suffering to the very top? Listen also to what he commands about love, the head of the virtues: having placed it above all and spoken about its actions, he explained that he demands from the laity the same love that Christ (demanded) from his disciples. As the Savior said that the highest degree of love is to “lay down your life for your friends” (Jn. 15:13), and Paul also expressed the same thing, saying: “Love... does not seek his own” (1 Cor 13:5), and he commanded to strive for such and such love: so if only this one thing were said, it would be enough to prove that the same thing is required of the laity as of the monks, because love is the connection and root of many virtues, and Paul expounds it in particulars. What can you demand more than this wisdom? When he commands to be above anger, and rage, and shouting, and covetousness, and gluttony, and luxury, and vanity, and other worldly things and have nothing to do with the earth; when he commands to “put to death the ouds” (Col. 3:5), he obviously demands from us the same strict life that Christ (demanded) from his disciples, and wants us to be just as dead to sins as those who died and were buried. That is why he says: “Whoever dies is freed from sin” (Rom. 6:7). And in other places he exhorts us to imitate Christ, and not only His disciples; Thus, when he convinces us to love, to forbearance and meekness, he cites Christ as an example. So, if (Paul) commands to imitate not only the monks and not even the disciples, but Christ Himself, and assigns the greatest punishment to those who do not imitate, then why do you call their height greater? All men must ascend to the same height; This is precisely what has distorted the entire universe, that we think that only the monastic needs greater severity of life, while others can live carelessly. No no; What is required of us all, he says, is the same wisdom, I would very much like to instill this; or - better - not I, but He Himself who will judge us. If you are still surprised and perplexed, then we will again draw for your hearing from the same sources, so that you can be completely washed from all impurity of unbelief. I present evidence from the punishments scheduled to take place on that day (trial). The rich man was not punished for much because he was a cruel monk, but - if something can be said to clarify - because, being a layman and living in wealth and purple, he despised Lazarus in extreme poverty. However, I will not say either one or the other, but only that he was cruel and for this he suffered the most severe torment in the fire. I now try to prove that the life of monks does not make the punishments more severe, but that the laity are subject to the same punishments if they sin in the same way as them. So the one dressed in unclean clothes (Matthew 22:1-13) and the one who demanded (from the debtor) one hundred denarii (Matthew 18:23-34) suffered the misfortunes that befell them not because they were monks, but the first died for fornication, and the last for vindictiveness. If anyone looks at others who will then be punished, he will see that they are being punished only for their sins. This can be seen not only in punishments, but also in admonitions. Thus (the Lord) saying: “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28–29), says this not only to monastics, but to the entire human race. And when He commands us to walk the narrow path (Luke 13:24), He turns His speech not only to them alone, but to all people; He commanded everyone equally to “hate your life in this world” (John 12:25), and everything else like that. So, from now on, I think, even the most argumentative and shameless will not deny that both a layman and a monk should reach the same height, and that both of them, if they fall, will receive the same punishments” (To the believing father, Homily 3, Chapter XIV. - In the book: Creations, vol. 1, pp. 107-110.). Do not be surprised, my friend, that I made such a large extract from St. John Chrysostom. It seems to me that Saint John Chrysostom, in the above words, quite clearly and convincingly proved precisely the unity of the ideal of Christ. Before this ideal, everyone is equal: both monks and laymen. Therefore, to excuse oneself for anything with such a common saying “we are not monks” is a complete misunderstanding of the essence of Christianity, simply thoughtlessness. From you, friend, I do not expect such an objection as, unfortunately, I had to hear from others. Namely, they objected to me: “Why do you think monks can live in a worldly way?” To this I answered - and I think you will approve of my answer - like this: “Leave the frivolity, because I am talking about a serious matter and I want to talk seriously! Well, does Saint Chrysostom want the monks to be like the laity in everything? To say that everyone must ascend to the same height does not mean to say that they can still fly into the same abyss.” In general, I believe that the question of the unity of the ideal of Christ in the words of St. Chrysostom has been revealed and resolved completely sufficiently. It should be recognized as an axiom, as a starting point, the following proposition: monasticism does not stand with any special ideal different from the general Christian ideal. There can be no special ideal at all, because the ideal of Christ is eternal, unchangeable and infinite. But from this situation, friend, we should draw several conclusions with you on specific issues. From the point of view of this position, I would like to answer your possible confusion, I would like to tell you what, in my opinion, follows with logical necessity from the recognized position. “Excuse me,” you say to me, “what about your monastic vows, tonsure, renunciation of the world? Why then is your monasticism?” Let's look at these questions in order. In the moral system of Catholics, the teaching of Christ is divided into generally binding commandments and private advice. Everyone must fulfill the commandments, and advice is given to those who wish. Whoever followed the advice has already done something superfluous; he has “extraordinary merits” that he doesn’t need. These merits go into the church treasury, and the pope from this “church treasury” distributes “merits in reserve” to those who have few merits of their own. Hence the indulgences and, in general, the entire financial mechanism of the Vatican. “Checks are issued for good deeds and transfers from saints to sinners.” The division of Christ's teaching into commandments and advice is an inextricable link in this heretical system of Catholicism. Our Orthodox theology, although it paid a little tribute to Catholicism, always fought against this Roman scheme of good deeds. In our theological literature, the very division of Christian moral teaching into commandments and advice was rejected and refuted. It is therefore strange to think that monks undertake some special feats not commanded by Christ. For a Christian, there is generally no specific standard beyond which he does not need to grow spiritually. Its measure is infinite perfection and with it infinite increasing bliss, because we affirm the identity of virtue and bliss. “The measure of the full stature of Christ” (Eph. 4:13) is the measure of a Christian. And here is his mood: “When you have done everything commanded you, say: we are worthless slaves, because we did what we had to do” (Luke 17:10). What can any human vows add here, add, I mean, in the moral-ideal sense? What vow can raise “the measure of the full stature of Christ”? Yes, my friend, honor the rite of monastic tonsure. You will see there, as it were, a set of gospel sayings, that is, universally binding truths. “What about renunciation of the world? - the question must be stirring in your head - You renounce the world, but we do not renounce.” I wouldn’t like to hear this bewilderment from you, friend, because you would need, and it wouldn’t hurt at all, to understand something in theology. These are the speeches of secular people who like to express decisive judgments, but do not consider it necessary to know anything, think about anything and understand anything. And for you, friend, such secular frivolity, as an intelligent person, does not suit you at all. What does it really mean to renounce the world? Peace through “and” means to renounce the universe. Tough task! Well, how can you renounce the universe? How will you leave it? Where? To a monastery? Where is the monastery? Not on the same land? And how easy it would be to renounce the world if it were enough to hide behind the monastery walls! But they say, “He brought peace to the monastery.” It turns out that peace can be worn. They say “The world is chasing him.” It turns out that the world can move. What is this “world”? And on the other hand, the tonsure asks the tonsured: “Do you deny the world and those who are in the world according to the commandment of the Lord?” Do you hear, my friend, according to the commandment of the Lord! Renunciation of the world is called the commandment of the Lord, that is, without any doubt, something universally Christian. Yes, of course, this is God’s commandment for all Christians. Remember from the Gospel: “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36), “They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world” (John 17:14, 16), “The world hates you” (John 15:18), “The world has hated them” (John 17:14). Who are we talking about here? About monks? No, of course, about Christians in general. And remember the words of the apostles: “Do not love the world, nor the things that are in the world” (1 John 2:15) “Friendship with the world is enmity against God” (James 4:4) “He who is born of God overcomes the world” (1 John 5:4). “Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). Anyone who does not want to be at enmity with God must renounce the world - not only monks, therefore, but all Christians. What is “peace” and what does it mean to “renounce it”? This is how the greatest mentors of monks and the best authorities on issues of Christian moral teaching—the holy ascetic fathers—answer this question. Listen to what Saint Basil the Great, who cared so much about the organization of monastic life, says: “Removal from the world does not consist in being outside the world with the body, but in order to break away with the soul from attachment to the body.” The Holy Scriptures, according to Chrysostom, call evil deeds peace (conversation on Eph 22:3). “We,” writes Mark the Ascetic, “are not commanded to love the world and everything in the world. We received such a commandment not in the sense that we would unreasonably hate God’s creations, but that we should cut off the reasons for passions.” “Peace,” says the venerable Abba Isaiah, “is when we fulfill the desires of the flesh, when we care more about the body than about the soul” (Homily 21). But the most precise definition of “peace” is given by St. Isaac the Syrian: “Peace is a collective name that embraces what is called passions. When we want to name the passions in their entirety, we call them the world. To put it briefly, the world is carnal living and the wisdom of the flesh, since a Christian does not fulfill the requirement - to live in the flesh, but not according to the flesh" (Homily 30). This, my friend, is what the word “peace” means in ascetic language. “The world” is a collection of passions. Tell me, is it really only monks who should renounce passions? Of course, not only monks. Renunciation of the world is the commandment of the Lord for all Christians. You, the laity, also took a vow of renunciation of the world. Where and when? At baptism, we were all asked then whether we denied Satan and all his works. The receivers answered for us: “I deny!” And they also asked us if we had renounced Satan; and our answer was: “I renounced!” Then we spat on Satan. After all, we have renounced precisely the one who is in the world, according to the word of Christ. We were united to Christ. It’s a pity that the laity, when they grow up, don’t even watch the rite of baptism. We have a very widespread prejudice among the laity that asceticism is the specialty of monks. We use the words “monk” and “ascetic” as synonyms. But this is complete nonsense. What is asceticism? In our theological literature there is a huge and very instructive work by Prof. CM. Zarina “Asceticism according to Orthodox Christian teaching” (St. Petersburg, 1907). Here are some books you laymen should read more! Then you wouldn’t say things that would make you only open your eyes wide in amazement and shrug your shoulders with regret. This is how asceticism is defined in this work, both on the basis of philology, philosophy, and patristic literature. By “asceticism in the literal and proper sense one should generally understand the systematic use, the conscious use of appropriate means for the acquisition of Christian virtue, for the achievement of religious and moral perfection” (Introduction, p. 11). Think about this definition and tell me whether asceticism is the only monastic work. If we all need to fight passions, then fighting them is asceticism, renunciation of the world. Our same learned specialist on asceticism, Prof. S. M. Zarin says well: “Orthodoxy, recognizing perfection as a common Christian requirement, also considers asceticism a common Christian duty, carried out in various forms” (p. 15). Various denigrations of monasticism now so often begin with the words: “Monks who have renounced the world,” etc. Why is this a sign of a monk – “renunciation of the world”? You, friend, are also inclined to consider “renunciation of the world” to be the main thing in monasticism. After my explanations, will you agree with me that all Christians have renounced the world? Church preachers talk about renunciation of the world back in the second century, when there were no monks at all. Condemning the monks in every possible way and trying to whitewash themselves, the laity now so often say: “But we did not renounce the world!” Complete nonsense from an Orthodox point of view. They did not renounce the world - that means there is no difference between good and evil, vice and virtue, no struggle with passions is needed. After all, passions make up the world that you supposedly did not renounce. I, my friend, would like to confirm in your mind the idea that, by renouncing the world, a monk does not create any new Christianity, does not set for himself any special ideal. Without renunciation of the world, without struggle with passions, without asceticism, no spiritual improvement is possible. Obedience and non-covetousness are often considered something specially monastic. Is there really nothing reprehensible for the laity in disobedience and greed? But in the rite of monastic tonsure, the question about obedience is given as follows: “Will you, even to death, retain obedience to the abbot and to all the brethren in Christ?” About non-acquisitiveness, the question is this: “Did you remain until death in non-acquisitiveness and the will of Christ for the sake of the common life of real poverty, acquiring or storing nothing for yourself, except for the common needs, and this out of obedience, and not from your own will?” Don’t you notice, friend, that both obedience and non-covetousness are taken here in relation to common life, to the monastery. You enter a monastery, so make a promise to obey the abbot, make a promise not to grumble about “the real poverty in general life.” The general need will be satisfied, and everyone must take care of this general need. The meaning of community life is the destruction of acquisitiveness as a personal passion, the passion of love of money. And historically, the communal form of monasticism has always been a more prosperous form of life compared to hermit monasticism. But if we take both obedience and non-covetousness outside the monastic social form, then shouldn’t they be recognized as general Christian virtues? Christian true wisdom is “obedient,” according to the word of the Apostle James (James 3:17). The apostle calls wisdom with envy and quarrelsomeness “earthly, spiritual, demonic” (James 3:14-15). The Lord said to the rich young man: “If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give it to the poor” (Matthew 19:21). Is it really beyond the desires of a layman to be perfect? After all, it was only Catholics who came up with the idea of ​​seeing here some kind of advice that is not obligatory at all for Christians. That’s why Catholicism is a deception that wants to combine service to both God and the world. And other words of Christ only apply to monks: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break through and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break through and steal, for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matthew 6:19-21). In the parable of the “steward of unrighteousness,” the Lord calls wealth unrighteous, untrue, unreal: He contrasts it with true wealth (Luke 16:9–11). It seems to me, my friend, that besides monasticism, obedience only for general needs is necessary and very useful in human life. Take your family. Is obedience unnecessary there, obedience to the abbot, to the father, to the head of the family? Yes, I also think that in a good family its members do not gain anything for themselves, but “except for the general need.” There, too, absolute poverty is possible in general life. In a good monastery there should not be the words “mine” and “yours”. These same words should be removed from family life. The family is a monastery. It is not for nothing that the monastery uses family terminology. There the father is the abbot, the brothers are spiritual children. Yes, show me a form of social life where obedience would not be necessary. Subjects swear allegiance to the sovereign. What is this if not a vow of obedience? Wherever there is society, there is obedience. For example, the Minister of Finance sets taxes and makes loans. Does he earn it for himself? Isn't it for general needs? And from your own will? Is it not from obedience to the monarch or parliament? And then, isn’t it a common Christian duty to fight against the passion of love of money? “Do not think that the mere acquisition of gold and silver is covetousness: it is the acquisition of anything to which the will is attached” (St. Isaac the Syrian. Homily 23). And the Monk John Cassian argues this way: “It is possible for someone who does not have money not to be free from the love of money. Without being at all burdened by the burden of money, it is possible to be condemned along with the money-lovers, according to the mind and the heart. Sometimes what was lacking was only the chance to acquire, and not the will, and the will in the eyes of God always has more weight than necessity. Therefore, the passion of acquisitiveness can exist even in extreme visible poverty. Some people easily left great wealth and came to a monastery, but the passion remains in the heart, it only becomes attached to other objects. You cannot feed passions with precious things; it becomes attached to cheaper things and only takes on a different form. But the point is not in the difference between metals, but in the passion itself. Whoever, having despised the greater, becomes attached to the lesser, deserves all the more condemnation” (Conversation 4, 21). Ascetic literature knows many cases of addiction to insignificant things, which, perhaps, is uglier, more shameful. Here passion is revealed in a purer form. The enslavement of the soul, its service to passion, manifests itself more clearly. Passions, my friend, should not be understood externally; passions nest in the soul, and they need to be plucked from the soul by both the monk and the layman. The quantity doesn't matter. One can be more attached to pennies than to thousands, and the passion of acquisitiveness will be stronger in the first case than in the second. A soul devoted to the passion of acquisition grieves at the loss of a little, while a soul free from this passion is calm even at large losses. I will repeat again, my friend, that it makes no sense to see the essence of monasticism in obedience and non-covetousness. Disobedience and acquisitiveness are also vices for the laity, since the laity have also renounced the world of passions. The ideal of Christ, the ideal of perfection, is the same for everyone. This ideal is spiritual integrity, freedom from passions. Read the pages about “sin” in the smartest Russian book of recent years - in the book by Father Pavel Florensky “The Pillar and Ground of Truth.” The integrity of the soul is its normal and blissful state. This integrity of the soul is contrasted with its “disruption” by passions and, consequently, its torment, anxiety, and confusion. The integrity of the soul is destroyed by the passion of acquisitiveness - both for the monk and for the layman. It remains for us, my friend, to talk about the third vow of monasticism - about virginity and chastity. Are the monks not creating with this vow some new ideal of life, different from the general Christian ideal? But I think you will not deny that chastity is a common Christian virtue, and unchastity is a sin for both a monk and a layman. In our popular belief, chastity is somehow considered incompatible with marriage. But, according to church teaching, marriage is an accomplice to chastity. Carnal lust, which fights against the spirit of chastity, is also a passion that disrupts mental balance. A Christian must fight this passion. It is not in vain that during Lent a Christian asks the Lord for the spirit of chastity. In a word, I consider it even unnecessary to prove and justify that chastity is a virtue necessary for both celibates and married people. This truth should be confessed to everyone without any reservation, without any relaxation. Many disputes about monasticism, many complaints about monasticism would not exist if this truth were resolutely and sincerely recognized. Here is another part of this same monastic promise, this time specifically monastic. This is virginity, or celibacy. In all the monastic vows, the only thing left that is specifically monastic is celibacy. All virtues are equally obligatory for both monks and laymen, but at this point monastic life already differs from secular life. Above, at the beginning of the letter, I quoted the words of St. John Chrysostom. I will repeat three lines from them now: “The difference between them (monks and laity) is that one gets married and the other does not, but in everything else they are subject to the same responsibility.” Isn’t that what St. John Chrysostom says, to which we have also come? Maybe we weren't thinking too badly after all. And here are some more authoritative words of St. Basil the Great. I call them very authoritative because I read them in his second letter to Amphilochius, Bishop of Iconium, and this letter at the VI and VII Ecumenical Councils was recognized as canonical and is still published in the “Book of Rules.” In Canon XIX of St. Basil we read: “We know of no other vows of husbands, except those who have ranked themselves among the rank of monastics, who show by silence that they accept celibacy.” But, my friend, I will propose another question. Well, is some new Christianity created by celibacy? And again I must answer in the negative. After all, celibacy is not a goal, but a means. This is one way, but a Christian can reach his goal in another way. Every person chooses the path along which it is more convenient for him to go. But celibacy itself does not have any special moral content. Read chapter VII of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. There, the Apostle Paul compares marriage and celibacy from a practical point of view. “But to the unmarried and to the widows I say: It is good for them to remain as I am” (1 Cor. 7:8). “He who gives his maiden in marriage does well; but he who does not give out does better” (1 Cor. 7:38). In Greek it’s good here - καλως. This word in Greek has no special moral meaning (it would be αυαθως): therefore, “better” has only a practical meaning. The Apostle himself explains what “better” means. “An unmarried man worries about the things of the Lord, how to please the Lord. But a married man worries about worldly things, how to please his wife. There is a difference between a married woman and a girl; an unmarried woman cares about the Lord, how to please the Lord, in order to be holy in both body and spirit; but the married woman cares about the things of the world, how to please her husband” (1 Cor. 7:32–34). I think the apostle does not want to say that family people do not and cannot please the Lord at all. He reasons practically: this happens most often, the most common occurrence. It is possible for a celibate person not to please the Lord at all, but with an equal desire to please God, a celibate person has more favorable conditions for fulfilling his good desire than a married person. But to look for in the words of the Apostle a teaching about the moral superiority of celibacy compared to marriage, in my opinion (not mine, however, only), would be a mistake. And again I’m afraid to hear from you, dear friend, such a common heated objection: “What are you saying? Aren't you, monks, proud of your celibacy? Don’t you blaspheme marriage in every possible way, considering it “bad” and a woman a “vessel of the devil”? If you, friend, are thinking of talking about the height of marriage, then I can only be your ally. There is nothing to hide, there are also among monks those who hate marriage, who squeamishly abhor it. I do not belong to such people and cannot belong to them. I know that, according to the word of the apostle, “marriage ... can be honest and the bed undefiled” (Heb. 13:4). I know that the apostle calls those who forbid marriage “false talkers, seared in their conscience” (1 Tim. 4:2–3). I know that the great zealot of monasticism, St. Athanasius of Alexandria, writes to Ammun the monk: “Blessed is the one who, in his youth, having formed a free couple, uses his nature to bear children”... “If anyone has chosen the worldly path, that is, marriage (you notice how marriage is indicated here as the only feature of the laity in comparison with the monks!), then I know the canonical rules of the Gangra Council - the following: 1st: “Whoever condemns marriage, and a faithful and pious wife, with her husband.” copulating, he abhors or blames her, as if she is unable to enter the kingdom, let him be under a curse”; if he exalts himself over those who are married, he will be under oath.” But both the words of St. Athanasius the Great and these rules were “sealed by the fathers of the VI Ecumenical Council with their consent” (Rule 2). The Fathers of the VII Ecumenical Council wrote: “We accept the Divine rules with delight and fully unshakably support the decree of these rules... Those whom they anathematize, we also anathematize, and those whom we anathematize, and those we excommunicate, those we excommunicate” (Rule 1). And for those who are not satisfied with this, open the “Month of Iannuarius on the 19th day of the life of St. Macarius of Egypt” and read: “Sometimes I pray to the venerable one to God, for a voice to say to him: – Macarius! You did not come to the extent of two wives, even if they live together in the neighboring city. Hearing this, the old man took his staff and went to the river city, and when he found their house, he pushed at the door and the only one left them, and received him with great joy. Having called both of them, the elder said to them: “For your sake, so much work has risen, coming from the distant desert, but I understand your deeds, which you tell me without concealment.” “I believe in us, holy father, that not even a passing night was free from the bed of our husbands, what kind of deeds are you seeking from us?” The elder went to bed, begging them to show him the order of their life. These convictions essentially decided: – We are not imams in any way related to each other; It happened that two brothers were united with us, and with them for fifteen years in one house we stayed together, below a single word of evil or foul, we united with friends, below we got together, but in the world even to this day we live and confer with one mind, leaving our carnal spouses, to go into the ranks of the holy virgins, working for God, but not with the ability to beg our husbands, yes They will let us go, quickly and bitterly, with many tears and prayers. Having not received what we wanted, we made a covenant between God and us, that we should not speak any word of the world, even until our death. Hearing this, Saint Macarius said: “Truly, neither a virgin, nor a married woman, nor a monk, is lower than a layman, but God seeks will, accepting it as the very thing, and according to each will, He gives the Holy Spirit, who acts and governs the life of everyone who wants to be saved.” And not only because, my friend, I honor marriage because it is commanded to me by the rules of the holy Councils and holy fathers, but because I feel reverence for it in my heart. I brought different rules so that it is clear to you that the Church is not guilty of those blasphemies against marriage that are committed by individual monks - and are they the only monks? Remember Leo Tolstoy with his “Kreutzer Sonata”! And about myself, I will tell you, my friend, frankly, that I even understand V.V. Rozanov, and when he reprimands the detractors of marriage (“In a world of unclear and unresolved things”), I am sometimes ready to exclaim: “That’s how they stand!” I ask you, friend, never to count me among those who abhor marriage and live in marriage. I can distinguish form from essence and I know well that celibacy in itself does not mean holiness and purity. By the grace of God I am a monk, but - oh, if only I could be just a little like you in spiritual purity, my family, worldly friend! Acceptance of monasticism does not immediately place a person in moral significance above all the laity. “The last monk is better than the best layman!” – I’ve heard this from monks, but I think this saying is wrong. By accepting monasticism, we only embark on the path. Along the path, go forward, go with difficulty and hard struggle, go towards a high goal, and this goal is the same for us and the laity. You see, friend, how I talk about marriage. But can you talk about monasticism with the same respect and reverence? Frankly, monks sometimes say a lot of unfair things about marriage, but lay people say much more about monasticism, they speak with some kind of irritation. “Your path,” they say, “is unnatural!” Leave it, for God's sake! The Christian life, if you like, is entirely unnatural. Christ came to renew our nature, corrupted by sin. The task of every Christian is to “put off the old man, which is corrupted by the deceitful lusts, of his former way of life, to be renewed in the spirit of the mind... and to put on the new man, created according to God, in righteousness and true holiness” (Eph. 4:22-24). One should struggle until one bleeds, fighting against sin (Heb. 12:4). The sinful nature manifests itself everywhere, in all areas of life. Marriage is no exception. Getting married does not at all mean giving in to the full will of passion and going where it leads - everything is pure and even, as Rozanov wants, sacred. No, the renewal of nature occurs gradually. What is asceticism? After all, it is a struggle against the current state of human nature. On this point, my friend, the laity has very little thought. The entire Christian life is unnatural, because its goal is the creation of a “new creation.” We “look forward to new heavens and a new earth” (2 Pet. 3:13). And when we wait, we will see that there “they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but remain like the Angels of God in heaven” (Matthew 22:30). Just set Christ’s ideal in all its purity in marriage, and you will immediately see that your practical advantages over monks are not so great. Read, friend, in the Gospel: “His disciples said to Him: if such is the duty of a man to his wife, (if the ideal of marriage is so high), then it is better not to marry. He said to them: not everyone can receive this word, but to those who have been given it” (Matthew 19:10-11). The words of Christ can also be applied to marriage. Christ seems to say this: “Yes, the ideal of marriage is high, the duties of a husband to his wife are difficult; Not everyone can achieve this ideal; Not everyone can comprehend My word (teaching) about marriage, but to those who have received it; with God’s help this ideal can still be achieved.” “It’s better not to get married!” This is, as it were, an involuntary exclamation from the disciples, before whom the duties of a husband to his wife were outlined. Before the greatness of the task - to transform the sinful nature - a weak person trembles equally, whether he marries or takes monastic vows. I confessed, my friend, that monasticism in itself does not immediately bring a person to some height. But you, lay people, when you are full of disgrace about monasticism, are often ready to assert that a family man is certainly more warm-hearted and loving than a monk. Scolding monks and portraying them as some kind of monsters in human form is such a common and favorite pastime of the laity. I have known monks for a long time and boldly, and I firmly declare that I have never seen such love, compassion, and cordiality as I observed among monks among the laity. From the laity, the family takes everything. There is a lot of love and warmth in the family. But... do you remember from Gogol: “even the beast loves its child.” The word “own” explains a lot here. No, love a stranger, love everyone - that’s where the Christian heart comes into play. Lay people often saw monks from afar, and in pictures, but they judge the monks so casually, as if they knew everyone better. Count, friend, how many monks you know personally! Perhaps, if you remember the resulting figure well, you will not boldly say: “In general, all monks are worthless.” But let's leave this bickering, my friend. It’s better to sum up our reasoning. This result is this: monasticism does not create any new Christianity. Christ's ideal is absolutely the same for everyone. Equally, all Christians can ascend to all levels of moral perfection. To think that lay people can only reach the middle levels, and the highest levels are accessible only to monks, I think is absurd. All monastic vows are the same general Christian vows, because everyone must be saved, and salvation requires renunciation of the world of passions and an ascetic struggle against sin. Monks differ from laymen only in their vow of celibacy. But this vow does not introduce anything new in a moral sense, because celibacy is only one of the paths of life along with the marriage path. Both of these paths in themselves do not make a person a saint or a sinner. To demean one path over another in a moral sense is extremely unwise. Everyone chooses the path that he considers convenient for himself. I wrote all this and am waiting for a bewildered objection from you, friend: “What do you have left from monasticism? Is monasticism the same as the worldly state? Why then monasticism? Why are you tonsured?" Yes, I’m not the only one who expects such perplexities from you. But I again advise you to think very seriously about the question: “Did Christ call all people to endless improvement or just monks?” One thing: either the Christian ideal is completely the same for everyone, or monasticism has created something better and higher, in comparison with the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. After all, in the Gospel there is not a word about monks, but “be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect” - it was said to crowds of people, where there were lay people from cities and villages, and not monks from monasteries that did not exist at that time. But the confusion still requires an answer and clarification. In fact, perhaps, with my reasoning (and I consider others impossible) monasticism loses its meaning? No, the true meaning and true significance of monasticism is completely preserved. Those vows that are given at tonsure retain their true meaning. “But the same vows were already given at baptism!” Yes, they are exactly given, nevertheless, their confirmation is very useful, and therefore necessary. Monastic vows, being universal Christian vows in their moral content, have a, so to speak, subjective meaning. They represent the conscious repetition of the baptismal vows given. The monastic vow at tonsure is a solemnly declared determination to take seriously one’s calling as a Christian. This title remains essentially the same as it was before, but the attitude towards it changes. In his life, my friend, every person often makes a vow to himself, promises before the Lord God to give up some vice. Makes a private vow. So what? Do such vows really remain without a trace for our moral life? But on this psychology of a person taking vows, various sobriety societies arose. After all, drunkenness is not a vice for only members of the temperance society, and every person equally has the need to fight this passion. But man's strength is weak. Personal determination is lacking. And I made a vow, I made a vow - the strength appeared, I had enough determination to defeat myself. Carry over, friend, the same thing to monastic vows. Living in the world, people often forget about their Christian responsibilities. The evil one will give him another excuse: “You are not a monk!” A weak will gladly agrees with this fundamentally false self-justification. In moral life, frankly speaking, we are bitter drunkards. Sin pulls us towards itself, makes us its slaves. The trouble is that this slavery was considered legal by many; They don’t want liberation. Sin binds people with many iron bonds. At first, weakness of will says: “I cannot break the chain.” And then the habit of sin adds: “I can’t and I don’t want to!” And there the prisoner is already kissing his shackles. The enslaver became a friend. One reverend Abba says that people give a hand to sin, that is, they meet it as a pleasant acquaintance. But if a person feels the severity of sin, he makes an effort of will and binds this will with a vow. This is the true psychology of the monastic vow: a humble awareness of the height of the general Christian vow and the lack of one’s strength to implement it. The monk prostrates himself on the floor of the church, falls to the holy altar, while the choir sings: “Open the embrace of the Father to me: my life has been spent in fornication: but look at the unexpected riches of Your bounties, O Savior, do not despise your now impoverished heart. For you, Lord, with tenderness, I call: those who have sinned, Father, to heaven and before You!” Please note, friend, this song of repentance is also sung during our divine services; this is the “sedal” on the Sunday of the Prodigal Son. At the end of the singing of the troparion, the abbot speaks in a loud voice to the one lying down: “God with mercy, as a Father who loves children, wastes your humility, and true repentance, child, as the prodigal son, accepts you repentant, and falls to Him with all your heart.” Do you hear, friend, the groans of repentance, the humble consciousness of sinfulness, in which one can only hope for the inexhaustible wealth of God’s mercy! And lay people often portray the monk’s mood in the opposite tone. “I am so good that the general Christian ideal is not enough for me, let’s have the highest one. You, laymen, are inferior beings before me. I made vows that you did not make. I am, they say, superior to you in the very rank of monk.” If a monk were to be in such a mood, it would be very sad. But if you share the single ideal of Christ, then you will agree that the soil will be very convenient for such a proud disposition. I want to say that denying the unity of the ideal of Christ is extremely harmful for a monk; it gives rise to sinful exaltation before the laity. No, we confess that the ideal for Christians is completely one, that we do not create a new Christianity with our vows, but only strengthen our weak will by the solemn repetition of the vows of baptism. I think that monks know many examples in their lives of how the mere memory of tonsure kept them in one particular case or another from falling into sin. You, friend, know what a bad person I am, how much they work on my ridge, in the words of the penitential canon of Andrew of Crete, all the masters of passions, but I know in my inner life that my tonsure was not in vain. Sometimes you will refrain from sin, but other times, having sinned, you will grieve more and reproach yourself more. So, my friend, with the vows given during tonsure, we heal our sinful ulcers; vows help us. Someone else, without repeating vows or taking tonsure, is better than us. After all, a healthy person can be stronger even without medication than a sick person. But the patient needs medicine. Vows are medicine. I have heard the following reasoning from many lay people: “Which of N.N. a monk will come out. He was such and such! A monk must be a special person even before becoming a monk.” I consider these arguments to be a misunderstanding. They are again based on this disgusting belittlement of the ideal of Christ for the laity and its exaltation (impossible) for the monks. It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. Is it possible to reason like this: “Which N.N. will become a member of the temperance society! After all, he was a real drunk!” The lives of saints can provide many examples of how great sinners, having accepted monasticism, became great ascetics and adorn the church heaven with the radiance of their virtues. You will ask, friend, “So, does this mean that monks do not take vows, but only repeat the data at baptism?” I answer this. Even if this were so, there is nothing strange in this thought. Yes, there is repetition of vows in monastic practice. There is “following the great angelic image,” or tonsure into the schema. The abbot asks: “Do you want... to renew your monastic vows before the Lord?” - and then the same vows follow as in the following of the “small image”, with the addition of the word: “secondary”. So what? Schemaism is still new, already the third ideal of Christ? But the vows are the same as those already made. It is clear, I think, that vows are considered precisely as the determination of the will to fulfill what, even without vows, it should have considered obligatory for itself. So, if monastic vows were only a repetition of those already given at baptism, then even in this case they would have every right to exist. But monastic vows, my friend, repeat the general Christian vows only in their moral essence, but from the formal side there is also something new in monastic vows. The monk not only promises to take his Christian calling seriously, but also binds himself to a special, compared to the general church, discipline. When tonsured, the monk accepts and lovingly kisses all the statutes and rules of monastic life drawn up by the holy fathers. The “rules of monastic life,” both historically and practically, are very diverse. Monasticism had many types. Each ancient monastery had its own charter. Now the monastery charters are also very diverse. The monks were saved in hermitage, without monasteries, each guided by one or another charter. One rule cannot be made mandatory for all monks. The diversity of life can never be destroyed and one general type established. Living conditions are changing. Church life gives rise to new needs. Compare our monastery with the Egyptian monastery, with the Thebaid, with the Tabenisiot hostel. Are there many similarities in everyday forms here? Lay people often express a preference for one particular type of monasticism. Only in this case I rarely believe anyone, because the praise of one type is sometimes associated with the condemnation of another, therefore, the praise was hypocritical. In fact, my friend, when we, the so-called learned monks, are denounced, they say: “You are monks, well, sit in monasteries! There’s no need for you to get involved in public life.” And when it is necessary to scold the monastery monks, they reason the other way around: “These monks are parasites! They locked themselves within the monastery walls and thought they were doing the job! Make them work for the common good!” I have heard and read so much of such contradictory reasoning that I decided once and for all not to pay any attention to them as sly hypocrisy. But in my opinion, human life is diverse, and people of different temperaments, and different abilities, and different inclinations are called to be saved. And they can all take vows. They argue about the ideals of monasticism - contemplative and practical. Extra controversy! Just save yourself - whether you are a contemplator or a practical worker - just save yourself, fight sin! If you read the lives of ascetics, you are involuntarily amazed at the diversity of their exploits. The history of monasticism in every country, in every people, in every century gives special features of monastic life. But always and everywhere there was a special monastic discipline of life. The monk takes vows to be a serious Christian, but chooses a comfortable lifestyle for this. It is not in vain that the Apostle Paul considers a celibate lifestyle more convenient for pleasing the Lord than a family lifestyle. What? Do you want to argue? Argue with the Apostle Paul, not with me. I have already told you, friend, that the apostle only puts celibacy above marriage from a practical point of view. I will add here the words of St. Chrysostom: “Just as in war and in battle we call the easier part not the part of the struggle where the dead fall often and one after another, but the one where few and rarely fall, so we must judge this subject.” “What, they will say, will all married people really die? This is not what I say, but that if they want to be saved, they will have more work to do, out of inevitable necessity, because it is easier for an unbound person to escape than for a bound one. But will he receive both a great reward and the most brilliant crowns? No; because he himself imposes this necessity on himself, whereas it would be possible not to impose it” (see Creations, vol. 1, pp. 110–111). With the general celibacy of the “monastic life,” the statutes create a special monastic life. Compared to worldly life, monastic life is an incomparably more convenient form of life for spiritual improvement, for the salvation of the soul. Those who shout the most about the shortcomings of monasteries are usually those who are least familiar with monasteries. After all, our intellectuals are very inclined to present all monasteries in the deceitful image that Maxim Gorky created with his imagination in “Confession.” But let’s take the life of the monastery from its everyday side as it is. How, for example, does life go in a more or less strict monastery? They get up from sleep at half past three, and at three o’clock they are already in the church. They read morning prayers, the Midnight Office and listen to Matins. Morning worship lasts three hours. At eight o'clock we go back to church for the liturgy, which will end at ten o'clock. After the liturgy, they will engage in work - “obedience.” No food is taken until the end of the liturgy. At noon there is a meal during which the life of the daily saint is read. The meal takes place sedately, in silence. Prayers are sung before and after meals. Each dish is served with the same prayer. At the end of the meal, rest for an hour and a half. After all, we got up a long time ago! And after rest, some work, some read something spiritual, edifying. At 5 o'clock there is an evening service, which ends at about 8 o'clock in the refectory, where evening prayers are read with many bows to the ground. And at nine it’s time to go to bed, because tomorrow they’ll wake you up again at half past two. Yes, before going to bed they will still fulfill their rule, with many bows to the ground again. So day after day. During Lent, meals are very meager, and church services sometimes take 11–12 hours a day. The order of the day was not invented by me, but copied from life. In most monasteries this is how the day goes. Compare, my friend, this monastic “program of the day” with the “program of the day” of the people around you, and tell me which way of life is more adapted to the salvation of the soul. Shouldn’t we agree for now with Saint Chrysostom, who says: “There are more likely to be shipwrecks here, because there is more excitement, and those who have to fight are more careless; and there are no such waves, and there is great silence, and there is more zeal in those who must fight” (vol. 1, p. 111). Monastic life achieves the purpose of its existence. Salvation is the same for all people, and the ideal of Christ is the same, but whoever lives in a monastery walks along a beautiful road to the eternal abodes, and not through a muddy swamp, like the laity. How can one really not break the sinful nature? Spend 7–8 hours a day in church, work the same amount, or read something edifying. When is it time to sin? This is how monastic life is structured so that the monk does not have idleness. Everything is a church, everything is soul-saving, everything is with prayer - this is how a church-like mood of thought and feeling is created. A common life and common aspirations bring people together, a fertile atmosphere of common hard work is created, it is created very easily, because it is mainly the most religiously minded souls who go to monasteries, who may be sinners, but who are not entrenched in sin. Often the monastery is somewhere in the middle of the forest, far from people. They live like on an island. Read from St. John Chrysostom: “A comparison of the power, wealth and advantages of royalty with the true and Christian wisdom of monastic life” (Creations, vol. 1, pp. 124–130). What was said there about monastic life is still applicable to it today. Believe, friend, my sincerity; I’m saying what I myself have experienced many times and thought about a lot. I was always amazed when I saw what a beneficial effect monastic life has on a person. I compared the monasteries I knew with the villages I knew. From the same villages, the same men are going to the monastery, and what happens to them there! What a change! What a rebirth! One involuntarily recalls the apostolic word about the “new creation.” Not a rotten word, affection, friendliness, conversations about the spiritual, brotherly love, humility, and most importantly - churchliness, knowledge of churchliness, even enlightenment. What? Do you have an ironic smile? So listen to what I say with all determination and frankness. I, a professor at the Academy, a master of theology, many times had to blush for my ignorance in front of simpleton monks who had not received any school education. I say this with sorrow for myself. I’m still planning to become somewhat enlightened in the church sense, but with so many things to do and responsibilities I’m putting off all this necessary work. You know a lot, both necessary and unnecessary, but simple monks know more about what is necessary and useful. And what vigilance over oneself, over deeds and thoughts, frequent confession and communion, etc., etc. I sometimes think what would have happened if these pious village guys had stayed in their village? What would come of them? Their lives would be drawn out, and they would be both ignorant and spiritually careless. And I really don’t even want to talk about intellectuals. Intellectuals are great hunters of scolding monks, but in front of “ignorant” monks, firstly, they are truly impossibly ignorant in church terms, and secondly, they are incredibly careless in moral terms. I have had to deal with both, so I speak from experience. Many lay people also recognize this truth. Monasteries are criticized by those who never visit them. If monasteries were some kind of dens, as they are often depicted, then why do the laity rush there? Before I became a monk, when I was a student, I experienced the beneficial effects of monasteries. It used to be that when you returned from the monastery to the Academy, it was as if you had fallen from heaven to earth. I have seen many lay people who cannot talk about monasteries without admiration and who try to breathe the clean monastic air at least for a week a year. One more touch. “The monks destroyed the joy of life,” they say. Extremely untrue! Monks have joy, quiet, pure, precisely the joy of a virtuous soul. After all, that intoxication, that intoxication with life, which is usually called the “joys of life,” is all something gloomy, entailing satiety and a hangover. The intellectuals who have strayed from the Church have indeed lost the joy of life. Tell me, friend, have you seen many lay people crying with joy? Well, we, monks, cry out of joy, out of tenderness, and thank the Lord for His mercy. Every monk knows tears of tenderness, and before these tears, worldly joys seem pale and pitiful to him. Finally, look, friend, at the calendar, and there you will find sufficient evidence that monastic life more easily leads to the Kingdom of Heaven. What host of saints, who labored in monasticism, is glorified by the Church? If you believe in the Church, then this testimony should be taken seriously. So here, friend, is the meaning of monastic vows from their practical side. They create a way of life that is convenient for salvation, and any way of life always means a lot to a person. After all, the absurd way of so-called “secular” life imposes many duties and decency, and thus, naturally, creates a mood of hypocrisy and emptiness. “Small talk” - has not this already become synonymous with “empty talk” or hypocritical conversation? “Secular courtesy” – isn’t this synonymous with lies? But, friend, I want to look at the order of monastic vows from one more side. After all, the rite of tonsure is a church service and church prayer, which, of course, is not performed in vain. The person being tonsured asks for God's gracious help. What wonderful prayers here! “O God, all-generous and abundantly merciful, the most pure womb of His unsearchable goodness opens to everyone who comes to Him with desire and warm love, saying: even if the wife forgot her child, I will not forget your knowing desire, and to your proposal, applying the power existing from Him to the fulfillment of His commandments, may He receive, and will embrace you and protect you, and may you be a strong wall from the face of the enemy, a stone of patience, a consolation of wine, a giver of strength, a giver of complacency, a companion of courage, kicking and rising with you, delighting and cheering your heart, with the consolation of His Holy Spirit.”... “Protect him with the power of the Holy Spirit, so that no resistant intrigue can be exerted over him, granting him patience to please You,” “Take away from him all carnal lust and dumb desire, so that by putting aside insensible hair he will put aside dumb thoughts and deeds, and he will be worthy to accept Your good yoke, and The burden is light for You, and take up the cross and follow You, Master.” For the person being tonsured, special petitions are inserted in the litany: “For our brother (name) and the hedgehog of God’s protection and help, let us pray to the Lord.” “For the hedgehog without blemish, without condemnation, and without stumbling, to correct his intentions of the monastic image, let us pray to the Lord.” “Let us pray to the Lord that he may remain in all godliness, reverence, and purity.” “Let us pray to the Lord to put aside the old man, and to put on the new man created according to God.” (N.V. ask for what every Christian needs, according to the Apostle.) “For the remission and forgiveness of his sins, let us pray to the Lord.” These prayers of the Church are not in vain! The Lord bestows His grace, which makes the monk’s path of salvation more successful than it would have been without tonsure. I’ll tell you, my friend, about one more advantage of the monastic life. All the time I prove to you that the ideal of Christ is the same for both monks and laity, and that monastic vows do not contain anything morally new. I don't know if I convinced you. I know that it is very, very difficult to convince the laity of this undoubted truth; it is more profitable for them to adhere to the error that is opposite to the truth - then they can excuse themselves and put all the blame on the monks; By the way, you can lose your soul by cursing the monks. But the Lord turns this delusion of the laity to the benefit of the monks. How? Here's how. While being lenient towards themselves, the laity are extremely strict towards monks. In principle, this is, of course, absurd, but in fact it is useful for monks. On all sides around the monk are strict judges and merciless prosecutors. The laity are always “seduced” by the behavior of the monks, although the laity behave a thousand times more seductively. But this unfair and biased attitude of the laity towards the monks imposes a kind of bridle on us, monks: “I put on monastic robes and immediately began to seduce everyone.” Even though they are tempted out of thoughtlessness, the monk is still bound by this attitude of the laity. Giving a reason for temptation is always unpleasant. In the presence of lay people, the monk is bound hand and foot. The monk laughed - they were already tempted. The monk walked down the street, rode the railway, got on a tram - and they looked at him like he was some kind of monster. I happened to ride on a tram in Paris with Catholic monks; they defiantly took out a prayer book and read it, not paying any attention to those around them. We don’t engage in demonstrations, we just feel tied down and embarrassed. Here you were scolded, here you were condemned, there you were “tempted” - well, you shut yourself up in your cell, and this, of course, is useful for a monk. The world, in the external sense, pushes the monk out of itself, and such external removal from the world can sometimes also help the monk in the saving struggle with the inner world, that is, with passions. So, my friend, the very misconception of the laity regarding the ideal of Christ, as if this ideal is one for the laity, and another for the monks, this misconception is harmful for the laity and beneficial for the monks. The laity, having strayed from the path of salvation themselves, force the monks onto this path, as if by force. My letter, dear friend, has been delayed. Maybe I've already tired you. Just a little more and I'll cum. I would like to say with what feeling everyone should look at the fact of tonsure, if you truly understand the meaning and essence of monasticism. One of the members of the Church common to you, one of the members of the one body of Christ, makes a vow to take the matter of his salvation more seriously than he did before; he chooses the most convenient way of life for salvation. After all, this is a triumph of the entire Church! If the one being tonsured was bad, then he will be better; if it’s good, it will be even better! In any case, here is the victory of good, for a good intention is solemnly witnessed and supported by a vow. Christian love must “rejoice in the truth” (1 Cor. 13:6). “If one member is glorified, all members rejoice with him” (1 Cor. 12:26). Of course, close people – friends, relatives – should especially rejoice. What do we see? How often do parents, especially mothers, oppose the monasticism of their children?! Tears are shed, not tears of joy, but tears of grief. And others sympathize with the “grief.” “Is it easy for her to lose her son?” Let me! Doesn't the Scripture say when a person leaves his father and mother? Is it not when he cleaves to his wife (Gen. 2:24; Eph. 5:31)? Is it not when the mother turns into “mother-in-law”? After all, the monk is only told: “Do not love lower than your father, lower than your mother, lower than your brethren, lower than those from your own, love yourself lower than God.” So shouldn't any Christians be able to say the same thing? But for those who get married, the law directly says that they leave their father and mother. And even without the law, we know this, because we see it all the time. And it’s all to blame for this division of the Christian ideal into secular and monastic. For the laity, the ascetic struggle with passions is considered optional and the so-called “joys of life” (a very loose concept!) are considered something truly valuable. To give up the “joys of life” is, you see, tantamount to death! But the “joys of life” are very dangerous for all Christians. What does the Apostle Paul write? “Reckon yourselves as dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Therefore, let not sin reign in your mortal body, so that you should obey it in its lusts; And do not yield up your members to sin as instruments of unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those alive from the dead, and your members to God as instruments of righteousness” (Rom. 6:11-13). I hope you will agree that we are not talking about monks here. But from the point of view of the apostle, rejection of the “joys of life” can hardly be considered spiritual death. And should not, according to the Apostle, all Christians be dead to the world? Thus, fundamental thoughtlessness turns joy into sadness. Sometimes something worse than fundamental thoughtlessness occurs. I had to hear such speeches: “What a pity! So young and leaving the world, refusing the joys of life! How shameful it is to seduce him into monasticism and tonsure him!” After all, these words already contain a whole mood. Actually, they say, if there is anything valuable, it is the joys of life, albeit sinful, albeit intoxicating. First, sin to your heart’s content (but you can never sin to your heart’s content!), and then, when you become useless for anything, then save yourself, even become a monk. And if they considered the ideal of Christ to be universally binding and did not look at earthly life as the only valuable one, then they would reason differently, something like this: “Ah, how good, how pleasant! So young, and decides, and promises to take the matter of his salvation seriously? God grant him success! If there were more of these among our youth, it would be better, we could look at the future more joyfully!” Do you know, my dear friend, how the worldly attitude towards monastic tonsure contradicts the actual state of affairs? “Oh, this is such a difficult ceremony that it’s better not to watch it: you can ruin your nerves!” Untrue, untrue and untrue again! I myself took monastic vows and I think that I will never have to experience such joy in my life as I experienced on March 28, 1913. This joy did not go away with the end of the ceremony. I was full of joy for two whole months. Everything was so rejoicing in my soul, it was so joyful that at times I was even embarrassed at the thought that this was some kind of deception from the evil one. Only what happened in my destiny on May 30 and what I learned about on the 31st drove my joy away from me for a long time, but even this sad circumstance did not completely drive joy from my heart. From experience I can say that it is not in vain that during monastic tonsure, the tonsured one, taking the cassock, says: “Our brother (name) will put on the clothing of joy and spiritual joy, putting aside and trampling underfoot all sorrows, and confusion from demons, from the flesh, and from the world: into his everlasting joy and joy in Christ, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” I know examples when gloomy people became cheerful after tonsure. There is even a story about the ancient Egyptian monks that in some monasteries everyone walked joyfully and there was never anyone sad. This is how it should be. The further away from passions, the more joy in the heart. Purity of heart is inextricably linked with joy. Bliss in Christian truth is not an external reward, but an internal consequence of virtue itself. A monk may have sorrows, but his very decision to increase his vigilance over himself is always accompanied by spiritual joy. And how pitiful the laity seem when they talk about the “difficult impression” of monastic tonsure, when the tonsure itself is called “living burial”! We are sometimes accused of trying to promote monasticism. And even if that’s the case, what’s so bad about that? After all, we are not tempting you to sin, but inviting you to a “truly good and blessed deed.” We know from experience that monasticism brings spiritual peace and joy. “Love... does not envy” (1 Cor. 13:4). That is why for us, for monks, every tonsure of a new monk is a joy and triumph “The Kingdom of Heaven is taken by force, and those who use force take it” (Matthew 11:12; Luke 16:16). In every tonsure we see precisely this effort of the one who wants to delight the Kingdom of Heaven. This, my friend, is what I wanted to write to you about for a long time. I do not hope to defeat and destroy with this letter your prejudice against monks and monasticism, but I would like you to think at least a little about the question I have put at the head of my discussion about the unity of the ideal of Christ. It seems to me that if you set off in reflection from the truth of the unity of Christ’s ideal, then with logical necessity you will come to my further conclusions regarding monasticism. I warn you to think about ideas, not facts. Based on facts, we will argue endlessly and will never come to a consensus. It would also be bad if you read this letter with the desire to disagree with it in advance and with the search for something to complain about and what to object to. I wrote sincerely, without hiding my thoughts in front of others. Mutual love and friendly unanimity on the most important issues of life - this is what your sincere friend desires with all his soul. You might be interested in: