Слово 10, о человеческой природе

Yesterday, crushed by my sorrows, I sat alone, far from people, in a shady grove, and my heart was consumed. In suffering, I love such healing and willingly talk alone with my heart. The winds hummed and, together with the singing birds from the tree branches, sent down a good sleep even to those who were too weak in spirit. And on the trees, the favorites of the sun, sweet-sounding grasshoppers (cicadas - Ed.), from their musical larynxes, filled the entire forest with their chirping. There was cool water nearby and, quietly flowing through the grove moistened by it, washed my feet. But I was dominated by grief just as strongly as before. Nothing around me entertained me; because thought, when burdened with sorrows, does not want to find consolation anywhere. And I, carried away by the whirling of the soaring mind, saw in myself such a struggle of opposing thoughts. Who was I? Who am I now? And what will I be? “Neither I know this, nor the one who is richer in wisdom than me.” As if covered with a cloud, I wander hither and thither; Even in a dream I don’t see what I would want, because everyone on whom lies a dark cloud of plump flesh is both low and mired in delusions. Is he wiser than me who is more deceived than others by the deceitfulness of his own heart, ready to give an answer to everything? I exist. Tell me: what does this mean? Another part of myself has already passed, another I am now, and another I will be, if I ever will. I am not something indispensable, but the current of a muddy river that constantly flows and does not stand still for a minute. Which of these (of what I was, am and will be) would you call me? What do you think most constitutes my self? - Explain this to me; and see that now this very me who stands before you does not leave you. You will never again cross the same river current that you crossed before. You will never see a person the same as you saw him before. At first I was contained in my father’s body, then my mother accepted me, but as something common to both; and then I became some kind of dubious flesh, something not like a person, shameful, without form, possessing neither words nor reason; and my mother’s womb served as my coffin. And here we are, from grave to grave, living for corruption! For in this life that I am going through, I see only a waste of years, which brings me disastrous old age. And if there, as the Scripture says, eternal and incorruptible life will receive me, then say: real life, contrary to your usual opinion, is not death, and will not death be life for you? I have not yet been born into life. Why do I collapse at the sight of disasters, like something brought into its composition? This is one thing and immutable for day-old creatures; this alone is close to me, unshakable, does not age, after, having emerged from the bowels of my mother, I shed my first tear, before I touched life, mourning all the disasters that I must face. They say that there is a country like ancient Crete in which there are no wild animals, and there is also a country where cold snows are unknown. But no mortal has yet boasted that he, without experiencing the severe disasters of life, moved from here. Powerlessness, poverty, birth, death, enmity, evil people - these animals of the sea and land, all sorrows - this is life! And how many misfortunes I saw, and misfortunes that were not pleasant in any way; I have not seen a single good that was completely removed from sorrow, since the destructive temptation and envy of the enemy branded me with bitter disgrace. I turn to you, flesh, to you, so incurable, to you - my flattering enemy and adversary, who never stops attacking. You are an evilly caressing beast, you are (strangest of all) a cooling fire. And it would be a great miracle if, in the end, you too became favorably disposed toward me! And you, my soul (let a decent word be said to you), who, where and what are you? Who made you a corpse-bearer, who tied you to life with firm bonds, who made you constantly gravitate towards the earth? How did you, the spirit, mix with fatness, you, the mind, couple with the flesh, you, the light one, combine with heaviness? For all this is opposite and opposes one another. If you entered into life, having been sown along with the flesh, then how destructive is such a combination for me! I am the image of God and was born the son of shame, with shame I must call lust the mother of my dignity; because the beginning of my vegetation was the expired seed, and it faded away, then became a man, and soon will not be a man, but dust - these are my last hopes! And if you, my soul, are something heavenly, then it would be desirable to know where you come from? And if you are God’s breath and God’s lot, as you yourself think, then put aside untruth, and then I will believe you; because in something pure it is unusual for even minor defilement to exist. Darkness is not the portion of the sun, and the bright spirit has never been the product of the evil spirit. How are you so indignant at the attacks of the destructive beliar, although you are associated with the heavenly spirit? If even with such help you bow to the ground, then, alas! Alas! how powerful is your destructive sin! And if you are not from God in me, then what is your nature? How scary, am I in vain puffed up by glory! God's creation, paradise, Eden, glory, hope, commandment, rain - the destroyer of the world, rain - fire from heaven, and then the law - written medicine, and then Christ, who united His image with ours, so that the suffering God would help my sufferings and make me a god through His humanity... But my heart is not brought to life by anything. In a suicidal frenzy, like boars, we press on the sword. What is the benefit of life? - God's light. But even this is blocked by an envious and terrible darkness. I have no advantage in anything, unless the evil ones have an advantage over me. Oh, if only I could have an equal share with them during great labors! I am overwhelmed with exhaustion, overwhelmed by the fear of God, overwhelmed by the worries of the day and night. This tall and creepy one is chasing me from behind, stepping on me with his heel. Tell me about all the insurances, about the gloomy tartarus, about the flaming scourges, about the demons who torture our souls. - For the wicked, all this is a fable! For them, what is best is what is under their feet. The threatening torment does not bring them to their senses at all. It would be better for the wicked to remain unpunished later than for me to now lament the misfortunes of sin. But what about people? Why describe in such detail the sorrows of our family? Everything has its sorrows. And the earth is not immovable; and the wind shakes her. The seasons are rapidly giving way to one another. Night drives away the day, the storm darkens the air; the sun outshines the beauty of the stars, and the cloud outshines the beauty of the sun. The moon is reborn again. The starry sky is only half visible. And you, Lucifer, were once in the angelic faces, and now, hated, you have fallen from heaven in shame! Have mercy on me, royal, venerable Trinity! and You have not completely escaped the tongue of reckless one-day creatures! First the Father, then the great Son, and then the Spirit of the great God were the subject of blasphemy! Where will you lead me, evil tongue? Where will my worries stop? Stop. All below God, Submit to the Word. It was not in vain (I will resume the song again) that God created me. Such a thought comes from our cowardice. Now there is darkness, and then reason will be given, and you will understand everything when you either contemplate God or burn in fire. As soon as my dear mind sang this to me, my sorrow was quenched. I came home late from the shady grove, and sometimes I laugh at those who argue differently, and sometimes, if my mind is in a struggle with itself, my heart is tormented with sorrow. You might be interested in: