The Path to Life's Renewal (New Martyr Theodore Pozdeevsky)

The sacred memories of the Lord's suffering, to which the Holy Forty Days of Lent lead us, must inevitably renew, both in our consciousness and in our inner state of heart, those great Christian principles of love and humility that should permeate our entire lives. For if we are Christians not only in name but truly desire to be so, then, of course, we cannot help but feel, we cannot help but experience a special uplift of spirit, a special spiritual joy, when we again see the love of Christ triumphant even on the cross, the love of Christ conquering the malice of enemies, the treachery of the traitor, and the horror of mortal suffering. We cannot help but feel spiritual joy when we again hear that love and humility—these great covenants of Christ—conquer or have already conquered the world (John 16:33). So, if anyone recognizes himself as a Christian, and if anyone recognizes the task of his Christian life, in the complete internal spiritual rebirth and renewal of his entire life, then by the memory of these very recollections of the cross of Christ, as if by a new breath of the spirit of Christ, he must revive within himself these Christ-like moods of love and humility.

And if now, precisely in our days, everyone feels some kind of decay in life and a kind of spiritual impoverishment, then in these memories of the passion of Christ such a fullness of spiritual riches is revealed that anyone who has not yet become completely hardened against the truth of Christ can draw from here everything necessary to satisfy the demands of his conscience and moral duty.

Our only problem is that we have lost our childish trust in Christ's truth. We approach Christ, look at Him, and listen to Him not as He speaks to us or as He reveals Himself, but as we ourselves desire. And because we are fainthearted and weak, because the spirit of the world by which we live and which we seek to reconcile with the spirit of Christ is hostile to it (John 15:19), it actually happens that Christ's holy truth is distorted, trivialized, and sometimes completely denied. This very error and this perverse attitude toward Christianity, when people raise a sacrilegious hand against it and seek to remake it to their own tastes, to adapt it to the life of this world, undoubtedly has its root cause in those very inner moods of egotism and pride by which every sinful person lives. After all, if we were to interrogate our own consciences, if we were to dispassionately examine and evaluate our lives, we would likely notice that each of us, in our own way, distorts Christianity, trying to adapt it to our sinful lives. After all, it takes much sorrow and struggle to completely renounce what we are accustomed to living. Meanwhile, Christianity offers and demands of us precisely a complete renewal of life, a complete renunciation of the former content of sinful life and the assimilation of new things in both our inner moods and their outward manifestations. And so, on the basis of this unconditional demand of Christianity—to radically change our entire life, both inner and outer—and on the basis of this sinful, natural human desire to reconcile the spirit of Christ with the spirit of this world—a constant distortion of Christianity actually occurs.

If this distortion of Christianity were limited and did not extend beyond the personal attitude and inner life of each individual, then, of course, it could be considered a personal sin. But when this distortion of Christianity extends beyond the personal and is introduced into the life and thought of all Christians, then an unforgivable temptation occurs, and the prince of this world, banished by Christ, is reintroduced. And if we were to try to determine precisely how the frail human conscience is tempted and stumbled in Christianity, and in what forms this temptation by Christian truth manifests itself in the life of a sinful world, we would see, in general, a constant repetition of what could be seen even earlier among people who lived with Christ and were close to Him. For we know from the sacred history of the Gospel that the Apostle Peter, who had earlier distracted Christ from the humble path of sorrows and sufferings, and at the Last Supper, when the love of Christ should, it would seem, have illuminated his mind, again hinders Christ from introducing into life and laying at its foundation that principle of humility which should conquer the world: he hinders Him from washing his feet.

If in the apostles this denial of Christ’s humility and denial of the necessity of suffering occurred out of love for Christ, albeit unreasonable, then these same denials and this same stubbornness against Christ’s truth occur now, but only for completely different reasons.

The sinful world dislikes humility and rejects it, for it refuses to recognize it as a force, the only force capable of renewing and reviving our lives. It refuses to recognize it as a renewing force because it does not understand humility and feels that to embark on the path of humility means to embark on a path of sorrows and suffering, a path of suppressing those diabolical principles of pride and vanity that have taken hold of human life. And it cannot be said that people do not feel the burden of such a life, do not desire its renewal, for never before, it seems, in the Christian era has this thirst for renewal been so strong as now. After all, people think almost exclusively of happiness and the good of life, and this thought has completely displaced from their consciousness the thought of moral duty and the duty of conscience. Meanwhile, in their pursuit of the good in life, people not only fail to attain the desired good, but increasingly feel the burden of life, and this is because they seek this good in the wrong place and not in the way Christ indicates. For even among those who seek in it the renewing power of life, Christianity is often understood and viewed in a way that denies Christ—as merely a beautiful theory for the best possible reorganization of external social life. And hence, the whole of Christianity is often torn apart into a multitude of separate, albeit good and beautiful, ideas, but lifeless ideas, for the spirit of Christ is no longer present in them, but rather a human spirit, hostile and deadening to the spirit of Christ. When the attempt to introduce some Christian idea into life, to make it the guiding principle of life, proves unsuccessful, then they rebel against Christ's truth itself, as incapable of renewing life. They forget that one cannot rend the seamless robe of Christ and with these fragments cover the nakedness of all human life; They forget that it is impossible to bring Christ's truth into life without Christ and, while renouncing one's personal life in Christ, to work in the name of Christian principles. After all, Christ did not come primarily to reorganize the external life of the world, as the apostles desired, but rather to revive the sinful soul of man, to breathe into it a new heavenly breath, to unite it with Himself, so that, strengthened and nourished by the spirit of Christ, it would be as fruitful as a branch on a good vine.

This is where the need, first and foremost, for inner renewal becomes clear to each of us. It is essential that each of us personally establish a living connection with Christ and, strengthened by Christ, in His name, not in our own, bring this light and renewal to our personal lives in union with Christ, and this can only be accomplished through humility.

For what is humility if not that heavenly principle when God's will replaces their own sinful will in people's hearts and becomes, as it should be, the general law of human life? Only then, of course, is harmony possible—when everyone renounces their personal will, manifested in vanity, pride, self-love, and other evil moods, and embraces the one common will of God in the humble awareness that it alone can lead people to unity, disrupted by self-will. And since this life, divided by self-will, has become the general law of life, and people cannot even imagine the possibility of living and preserving their so-called dignity outside the realm of egoism, the humility proposed by Christ as the beginning of life seems like foolishness, a temptation, or simply madness.

Yes, indeed, one must completely change all one's moods and feelings in order to understand the full regenerating and renewing power of humility. This is why the Savior, bidding farewell to His disciples, prays for communion among themselves and with God, and points the way to this in humility and love. For when each person realizes that, guided by their sinful will, they bring only discord and enmity everywhere and serve their passions, when they understand that renewal of life cannot be found here, then, of course, they will bow before the divine face of Christ and seek from Him guidance for life. And they will see that this meek, humble, and suffering face of Christ shines with a new heavenly light and brings peace and joy to each soul. And where there is joy and peace, there, of course, is the goodness of life, and love, and every heavenly virtue. This is why Christ again says to his disciples: In Me you will have peace, but in the world you will have tribulation (John 16:33). And finally, of course, because the world places its own will above the will of God, sanctifying egoism and brute force as the law of human life.

And if we want everyone to recognize us as disciples of Christ, let us be inspired by the memory of Christ’s suffering on the cross and carry into our lives the spirit of love and humility of Christ, remembering the words of our Savior: Be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world (John 16:33).

In a humble village church, the walls of which were covered with paintings, I happened to see a painting that involuntarily caught my attention. It's unknown what artist painted it—a simple icon painter, perhaps even a self-taught icon painter, as they call them, or perhaps some random, intelligent artist—but it's clear that the artist approached his work differently than most. It was clear that the artist had deeply felt and thought through what he intended to depict, pouring, as they say, his soul into his work. The subject of this painting is taken from the Gospel story of how the Savior received the children brought to Him and blessed them, contrary to the wishes of His disciples, who were reluctant to even allow children to come to Christ. The Savior, according to this painting, was seated on a simple stone, surrounded by a crowd of children. The Savior's gentle gaze looked upon the children standing around Him with such love and tenderness, as it seems only a tender mother can look upon her beloved child. With one hand He blessed the children gathered around Him, while with the other He tenderly embraced the neck of the child standing next to Him. The children's faces looked so trustingly upon the Savior, and they all crowded so closely around Him, that it seemed only an outside force could pull them away from Him and deprive them of the presence of this kind Teacher. Somewhat apart from this group of children, headed by Christ, stood the Savior's disciples; their faces expressed bewilderment; they seemed to be thinking to themselves, "What could this great Teacher have in common with these still-foolish children?" With their erroneous view of Christ as merely an earthly king and restorer of the glorious kingdom of Israel, they obviously could not understand that these children had far more in common with Christ than anyone else. They could not see in this communication of the Savior with the children a communication of pure souls, a union of pure hearts, not yet touched by the dirt and passions of life, and they did not understand that it was precisely here that the new kingdom, spiritual and Divine, which Christ came to found, would be formed.

The artist clearly wanted to express with this painting his sympathy and empathy for that attitude toward Christ and Christianity that is based on the embodiment of that spiritual purity and that spirit that so distinguishes Christ's moral character. He was demonstrating that, if anyone is capable of such direct communion with Christ, it is only children, due to their spiritual purity and innocence, and among adults, only those who have preserved childlike purity of soul. After all, there is another, entirely different attitude toward Christ and Christianity—a purely external, narrowly practical attitude, the same as that exhibited by the apostles during the Savior's earthly life, who saw in Him only the organizer of an earthly kingdom and external well-being. And just as Christ was incomprehensible to the apostles then, so He remains incomprehensible to those who see in Him either only a great moral teacher, or, even worse, who see in Christianity only a theory of the best reorganization of the external conditions of social life and who seek in Christianity an answer not to the demands of their sinful souls, but to the demands of worldly well-being.

And Christ becomes understandable, as if akin and close only to the pure soul of a child, or to those who have retained a childlike soul and a childlike attitude toward the world around them, which so blinds so many. If we recall those great representatives of Christian life who, in their personal lives and work, demonstrated the great vitality of Christianity—and not only in their personal lives but also in public life—we will see that all of this grew out of that purely childlike attitude toward Christ, which is based on purity of soul and a constant, intense nourishment, from early childhood, of the Christian spirit and disposition. Such are St. Chrysostom, Basil the Great, and many other figures rich in the Christian spirit, figures of ancient times and the recent past, and even today, such as Father John of Kronstadt. These living examples of the embodiment of Christianity demonstrate how important it is for a person's future moral development that the first stirrings of feeling, the first awakenings of thought and attention to the surrounding world, be connected with impressions imbued with a religious, sacred character, and alien to ordinary everyday coloring. Sacred religious foundations must become the primary principles of personal life, living principles that nourish the impressionable child's soul and strengthen its spiritual and moral growth. And if a person's life and activity are not to be determined by the random interplay of external circumstances, but rather should be understood as constant spiritual growth, the development and unfolding of a single, holistic state of mind, then proving the significance and power of childhood impressions for a person's future moral makeup is, of course, superfluous.

Anyone who even slightly follows the course of their inner personal life and is aware of their actions will recognize how often a fond memory from a distant childhood can prevent a person from moral decline, how this same fond memory often motivates one to good deeds. One recalls a fervently loving mother with her kind, gentle instructions, another recalls praying with her in church or at home, or recalls some edifying story—and under the influence of these memories, a special kindly tenderness arises, a mood from which all evil flees. And how often does it happen that in critical moments of moral rebirth, a kind of spiritual epiphany, a person always experiences something already familiar and dear within themselves, and their thoughts involuntarily turn back to their past, as if reliving their bright childhood! Everyone understands and probably knows why it can be so touching to watch a child pray, yet feel a certain awkwardness, realizing that one can no longer gaze upon God with such sincerity and trust and whisper the words of prayer. One clearly recognizes that one lacks a childlike purity of soul, that one's feelings have become coarse, one's thoughts are nourished by entirely different impressions and revolve around entirely different concepts, and that all this acts as a barrier, hindering the living and beneficial influence of the spirit of Christianity, and that this barrier must be destroyed. And so, if one takes advantage of even such a favorable opportunity for self-condemnation, if one wishes to examine one's life, one will clearly see that each person's personal life is inevitably built on the law of struggle: the principles of service to truth and Orthodox goodness, and the interests of a selfish existence, one necessarily suppressed in the name of the other. If we shift our attention from personal life to social life, this phenomenon becomes even clearer. In social life, this law of struggle gives rise to so-called heroes, champions of a certain idea. Be it purely scientific, social, or any other, so long as it displays a desire to serve truth and goodness, it equally demands struggle, sorrows and suffering, willpower, and rightly evokes admiration for its proponents. In personal, inner life, this law of struggle defines the well-known phenomenon of ascetics, whose entire work boils down to suppressing the evil within and reviving themselves to truth and goodness. True, we are also amazed by those who, guided by worldly and selfish interests, achieve extraordinary success on this path, and again we marvel at their strength and courage, and again we recognize the inevitability of the fact that anyone who does not want to miserably drag out their life must necessarily be a fighter. Of course, the latter kind of struggle for the sake of selfish interests should not serve as an example for us Christians, since here a person’s forces are not directed towards the development of morally good principles of life,but only on the development of external conditions for a prosperous life.

This is the trouble with modern man: he is obsessed with, and, as it were, maddened by, the thought of happiness and the good of external life, and this persistent thought has driven from his consciousness every other thought and awareness of both moral duty and the true life that would distinguish his life from the lives of other living beings and be a truly human life. This is a long-standing phenomenon, and its abnormality has long been recognized by those who have taken the trouble to delve more deeply into human life. For example, one biblical sage, when he took the trouble to discover the truth about everything happening under the sun, came to a conclusion that probably seemed strange to many of his contemporaries: he declared frankly that all human life on earth is positive vanity; People are practicing "false cares," they have nothing that could be considered truly valuable; in a word, a kind of cycle is taking place in which there is nothing new (Ecclesiastes). This harsh sentence on human life clearly expressed the truth that people must change their lives, that they are not living as a person should live. The sage seemed to say: "Every living being lives and acts according to its nature, and only one person lives a life that is not his own, so that it is difficult to distinguish him from other living beings." This is why another ancient sage looked for a man with a lantern during the day, although he undoubtedly moved among people and saw them.

This influence on human life occurs precisely because man, like every other living being, lives only for external well-being, dwelling on the thought of the good and happiness of life. All his activity, as one thinker put it, represents only an endless attempt and effort to create the best possible living conditions for himself and achieve contentment. In this regard, man is truly incapable of creating anything essentially new and valuable in itself. The entire cultural history of humanity represents a striving to protect itself from possible accidents arising from the physical world. But this same constant cultural progress demonstrates that each achieved level of desired well-being in reality did not satisfy man, and he was forced to create for himself a new idea of ​​good, denying the value of what he had achieved. It turns out that happiness itself is something very vague and conditional. The desired, imagined well-being and happiness still seem like happiness until they are achieved, but as soon as the conditions under which a person thinks to be happy are achieved, they already seem insufficient and encourage a person to seek new happiness and again enter into a struggle with others for the happiness of life.

Thus, until death, man is condemned to seek happiness, not to possess it. And so Christianity shows us a new path of life, more worthy of man and in keeping with his purpose in the world: the path of moral development. It also points to a new goal of struggle, demanding a struggle for truth and goodness, for the realization of good Christian principles in life.

So, when it comes to the paths of life, the primary goals of our activities, for us Christians there should be no hesitation between the two paths indicated—that is, the path of struggling for truth and goodness, for the sake of embodying good Christian principles in life. The question is how to follow the latter path, where to place the strength that would make our efforts life-giving and not fruitless. Frankly speaking, who among us, especially young people, has not dreamed of extensive, fruitful activity for the benefit of others? There are probably many who have not limited themselves to mere dreams, but have also strived to put them into practice. But then the rain came, the flood occurred, the winds blew, and the temple, unable to withstand the onslaught of the destructive elements, fell, and its destruction was terrible, for it was built on sand (Matthew 7:27).

The occasion and by whom these words were spoken are well known. The Savior predicts such an end for anyone who builds their life and work on principles and foundations other than those indicated by Him. The same end will undoubtedly befall the inspired worker who, listening to the words of Christ and captivated by the loftiness and purity of Christian moral ideas, begins to implement them not in their personal lives, but directly in public life. And it happens that the entire Christianity of such activists disintegrates into a few separate, purely abstract ideas and rules, since no one can immediately implement in public life the entire wealth of moral and good ideas proclaimed by Christ. In this case, the spirit of Christianity is lost, and the very idea of ​​Christianity becomes simply a so-called humane idea. Thus, a person, inspired by the hope of those great blessings he expects from his work for others, begins to serve not people themselves and not in the name of God, but only this abstract idea, which obscures everything for him, even the entire Christian teaching from which it is taken and outside of which it has no vitality. And when this fails for some reason, when it is noticed that the efforts are futile and do not lead to the desired, then discouragement and disappointment immediately follow, and even outright doubt arises that the most Christian principles of life can be applied to life and produce good results. And such an outcome is not only not rare, but almost a constant occurrence, for as soon as the onslaught of opposing currents occurs, the entire edifice collapses. If you reflect a little on why this happens, why seemingly lofty service and selfless work often fail to lead to the desired, it is not difficult to see that this is the natural consequence of a poorly begun undertaking. After all, if Christianity were merely a theory, merely a collection of lofty dreams primarily concerned with reorganizing the conditions of social life, then, of course, for someone captivated by this theory, there would be nothing left to do but experiment with its application to social life. But the point is that Christianity is not a theory aimed at reorganizing the conditions of social life, but a completely unique life, and not so much an external life as an internal one, a new life, first and foremost, for each individual. And the revelation of this life externally, in those ideal forms that generate even a non-Christian-minded person, is a direct result of the assimilation of this life by the individual. Christ came to earth not primarily and primarily to abolish poverty, equalize the classes, etc., but to regenerate the sinful soul of man, so that he would no longer labor for his passions, which are the cause of all misfortunes, but would bring forth only good from his heart. Hence, the task of every activist who wants to work in the name of Christian principles obviously must be reduced to awakening this new life in other people, as some new internal content of their personality.It is necessary to renew their very feelings, thoughts and aspirations, in a word, to pour into them some new life-giving stream that would nourish their soul and make a person a living embodiment of Christianity.

Of course, only those who have already understood the laws of this life, grasped their truth and power, and, moreover, who have already internalized this new life and are living it, can regenerate the human soul to new life. Thus, the task and path of a Christian activist first and foremost poses for each individual the challenge of personal education, or, better yet, re-education, and must begin with the work of personal self-improvement in the spirit of Christianity. Each person must, first and foremost, establish a living and close connection with the source of new life—Christ—and only in Him and through Him grow spiritually and reveal their activity in His name and for the benefit of others.

There is nothing more destructive than acting solely in one's own name, and not in God's, and staking one's success on oneself rather than on Him. One can often see how a society, having set itself the most humane goals and seemingly enjoying general sympathy, immediately reveals, if not internal decay, then at least a difficulty in its activities, or simply impotence. Apparently, everyone recognizes the usefulness of the work and the lofty moral significance, and everyone has compassion for others. The only problem is that everyone also harbors ordinary human passions, beginning with self-love. And so, good deeds are often replaced by mere kind words. Indeed, one cannot successfully carry out a truly good Christian work without first becoming a good Christian. Therefore, each person must personally fall at the feet of the Savior and, eagerly listening to His teachings, first translate the laws of the new life into their own personal life. And let no one delude themselves into thinking that this is an easy task, that it is enough to learn the Christian duties and laws of the new life from the Word of God, and that life will be clear and structured automatically according to these laws. It can be said with certainty that anyone who views Christian morality merely as purely external, so to speak, legalistic duties, and who attempts to limit themselves to a mere theoretical assimilation and memorization of them, will never understand the laws of the new Christian life and will never translate them into their personal life. Understanding the laws of the new Christian life coincides with, or rather, is conditioned by, the expulsion and liberation of oneself from the laws of life according to the spirit of this world , that is, according to the law of self-love and the passions associated with it. Happy, therefore, is he who, from childhood, was placed and subsequently strove to maintain himself in conditions that would prevent the harmful influence on his soul of the laws and spirit that dominate the life around him. And such conditions that would preserve the purity of the soul, support sensitivity and responsiveness to all that is truly good, and elevate and inspire a person to live and act not in his own name, but in the name of God, can be nothing other than a constant striving to ensure that the Christian and religious atmosphere does not cease its influence on the soul. Under such conditions, a person's spiritual development and moral growth occur consistently as their spiritual powers develop, but not without struggle and effort; for the spirit of the world asserts its claim on the human soul with force, but without those painful spiritual upheavals that must be experienced when returning from a false path to the path of truth. The more the spirit of the world and service to it have taken hold of a person's soul, the more their spiritual powers have become coarse and insensitive to all that is truly good and lofty, the more labor, the more effort they will have to expend when they wish to replace the law of self-love in their life and work with the Christian law of love and truth.

Thus, both the very concept of Christianity as a new life, and the resulting task of our activity—awakening others to this new life and thereby expanding the Christian atmosphere—both demand of us, first and foremost, personal education aimed at understanding the laws of the new life and living by them. And the idea that this understanding of the laws of the new life necessarily takes the form of a feat and requires self-improvement, and that this work can be successfully accomplished only under the aforementioned condition of a constant, living connection with the source of this life, will not seem strange if only we acquire the correct understanding of the nature and content of these laws.

Their content does not regulate a person’s external behavior, but aims to organize the course of his inner life, feelings, thoughts, desires, to produce in them that wonderful harmony when there is no discord between word and deed, between thought and desire, and the whole person seems to burn with love for God and people and carries the kingdom of God within himself.

So, if we believe that the new laws of Christian life express the absolute truth, and we wish to serve it, then instead of broad activity, instead of dreaming about the fruits of our labors, we must first limit ourselves to the modest work of self-education, we must embark on the path of personal achievement.

Anyone who wishes to promote the laws of the new life in the lives of others must be the first example of their implementation in their personal, inner life, and must first sever ties with that which is alien to the spirit of this life. Anyone who wishes their words about new principles of life to breathe convincingly and have an irresistible effect on the hearts of others must first be convinced of their truth. This is impossible without embodying these principles in their own lives, for these are truths of the inner life, not mere thoughts. After all, a teacher of public life will not inflame the hearts of people with love and lead them to a renewal of life unless they have acquired only the gift of words and do not themselves shine with the light they wish to kindle in others. Their words will merely soothe the ear and never take root, for only sincere and direct conviction possesses a special power capable of touching the most brutal heart.

It is not difficult, of course, to define more precisely what the goal of personal asceticism, necessitated by the need to understand the truth of the laws of the new Christian life and to educate ourselves according to them, should be and how it should be expressed. If we wish to contribute to the establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth, then we ourselves must already be its members. If we know, then, that the Savior pointed to children as preferential members of this kingdom because of their spiritual purity, then it is clear that the goal of our personal asceticism must be reduced to preserving, or rather acquiring, that spiritual moral purity which we involuntarily admire in children. Some must preserve this spiritual purity as a precious legacy of childhood; others, who have already darkened it, must reacquire it if they wish to live according to the law of Christ.

In both cases, effort, labor, and the trials of temptation and sorrow are required; but it is undoubtedly easier to preserve what is already there, adding to it what is similar, than to uproot foreign growth, to acquire what was long lost, and to bring to light what had been stunted. Of course, for someone who has never considered this correction and purification of the soul, who, on the contrary, thought of reconciling the new spirit of Christianity with the old content of life—to which the selfish will of man is inclined—it is difficult to understand the torment of this inner process of purification of the soul. But it is also certain that such a person will never understand the full vitality and fruitfulness of the new Christian principles or come to understand their inner, gracious power. He who suffers, who is tormented and grieves, is the only one who recognizes his own impotence and the need for higher help; only he can sincerely believe in God and in the truth of the moral world order. The fruits of this inner work on the content of one's spiritual life will quickly reveal beneficial results. What is called a Christian disposition is developed; a new light is kindled within, illuminating the path of true human life and compelling one to regard all questions of life as matters of conscience and moral duty, not merely as matters of worldly well-being. And here lies the starting point from which a Christian's progress toward moral perfection is directed. From here spring good thoughts and pure impulses, which, translated into action, take on the appearance of truth. From here is born in the heart a disposition toward self-sacrifice, which in real life develops into love. From here, truth and love become a constant law of life and action. And if Christianity is to establish truth and love on earth, this can only be accomplished if an inner change occurs in each person. Christianity demands precisely this inner change, which must be expressed in the purity of the soul from passions. It challenges humanity to seek not happiness and the good of external life, but to seek a truly human life, one that corresponds to the concept of man as a morally rational individual. But in doing so, Christianity already resolves the burning question of the good of life and points to it within man himself. It affirms that the good of life lies in true life, and this latter is expressed in living according to the law of love and truth. This good of true life must be sought not outside oneself, not in the environment, but only within oneself, on the path of personal moral education.

Thus, the Church, as we said above (See "Renewal of Life," No. 36, "T.E.V."), has long preached the renewal of life in the person of the Lord , proclaiming that the pleasant year of the Lord has already arrived (Luke 4:19-21), and even more: it has positively affirmed that this has already been realized before the very eyes of people. However, the available experience of human life, both in the history of entire nations and in the sphere of activity of each person, strikingly clearly confirms that the pleasant year still must be passionately awaited and sought, that humanity still cannot understand and unravel this mystery incomprehensible to itself—the mystery of struggle and suffering for the good and truth of life, and this mystery, as a general law of life, is clearly felt everywhere. After all, it was not hymns of gratitude and solemn praise that rose and still rise to heaven from the earth, but rather cries of sorrow and suffering, murmurings and groans, and often outright curses, that are heard more often and louder. Humanity has long pondered this perennial mystery of life's suffering, seeking, if not a complete solution, then at least to lift the veil. It ponders it even now and seems ready to recognize these sufferings as the true laws of its own and the world's life. Through its own scholars, it now speaks of the law of the struggle for existence as a general and inevitable law of life, but it fails to clearly explain the source of this law, its meaning, and what follows. After all, some meaning is needed for this suffering, some ray of hope that would at least somewhat enliven man and give him strength and power. And in the fact that humanity never reconciles itself internally with this seemingly vicious circle of general confusion and general sorrow of life and always seeks a better lot and the good of life, it is clearly expressed that the law of suffering does not at all express the whole genuine truth about human life, but only says that there can be another life, a better one, that it is felt internally and that it is only necessary to find from the available forces and forms of life one that would be truly suitable for the arrangement of the good of life, and it will be ensured.

Unfortunately, humanity mistakenly thinks that the present conditions of life and its experienced and experienced forms express the entire nature of the human personality and all its aspects in their norm and authenticity, and questions about whether this is truly human life and whether it corresponds to the idea of ​​a free-rational, creative personality, which a person still wants to consider himself to be, are little thought about.

So the poor man struggles in this strange, mind-bending duality and cycle of life: he recognizes struggle and suffering as real and present facts and sees in them the general law of life, but refuses to reconcile himself to them and denies them with his whole being. It seems as if the terrible mark of the ancient fratricide Cain and the sad banner of his life—that he will live among men groaning and trembling— is being fulfilled before our very eyes upon all of humanity. Indeed, it is true that man lives and has always lived , groaning and trembling for the good of his life, for himself, for the pleasures and whims with which the world beckons. It is as if man has killed something and trembles at the judgment for this murder, as if he has mocked something sacred and great in life, like brotherly love, desecrated by Cain, and for this mockery nature takes revenge on him by depriving him of peace and joy, depriving him of the highest thing—the reason for his life. We will not now touch upon the question of the norms of human life, which express the inner nature and essence of the human personality. Our concern now is with suffering, insofar as it represents a present fact of life and requires at least some insight and clarification. Can a person, within the Christian understanding of the meaning of his life, from the whole range of ideas and concepts with which Christian revelation has enriched his thought, find something that will make suffering, if not acceptable without an inner protest of feeling, then at least a heroic achievement in the name of some higher purpose sufficient to justify it?

If the word of Christ's preaching and the word of the Gospel teaching is a word primarily about suffering and sorrows, is a word especially about the cross of Christ and Christ crucified, then nevertheless, apparently, there is something comforting here, there is something here that forced the Apostle to testify with his blood to the truth of his words: that he can and wants to boast in nothing other than the cross of Christ, that is, the suffering and death of his Great Teacher, and that the word about the cross and the cross itself are truly the power of salvation for every person who has believed in this cross.

It's clear that Christ Himself and His apostles affirm, sanctify, and compel man to see in the very thing he inwardly recoils from—namely, in life's suffering—some higher meaning, some higher truth, and to seek paths to a better life in these very sufferings. This is precisely how it should be for us, called to Christ, and any other attitude toward suffering and the usual understanding of it will only make Christian teaching itself seem pitiful. And it is neither temptation nor madness., like the unfaithful pagans and Jews, we must find in this, indeed, the highest power and the highest wisdom. True, the mystery of our salvation, the wisdom and mystery of our good and renewal of life, was hidden and inaccessible even to the highest angelic mind; but can it now, when it has been accomplished, be said that for us it remains hidden as before, can it be said that at least part of the veil over this mystery has not been lifted? If so, then we are the most unfortunate of all men, for, having stopped our reason and wisdom and having received the mind of Christ, we still wander in darkness and ignorance. But only deliberate and willful blindness can assert that the veil has not been lifted over the mystery of all the world's sorrow and vanity; This veil has been lifted over the mystery of our sufferings, and their source and ultimate goal have been revealed in Christianity, as has also been indicated the attitude toward them, the point of view from which they are perceived and endured not as a yoke of senselessness and aimless burden, but even as a good yoke, as a triumph of the spirit and the greatness of man. Perhaps this is precisely why man is tormented, and why he sins in the question of life's sufferings, that he undertakes to deny what is inevitable, which, by the very nature of the matter, cannot be denied under the present conditions of life—to understand these very sufferings. And Christianity may be the one who reveals the mystery of suffering by pointing out in principle their source, primarily their internal source in man's spiritual nature, and at the same time compels us to look at them more simply and relate to them more simply in the experience of present life: it compels us to voluntarily and consciously accept them as a truly inevitable law of life under its present conditions, and not to turn away from them and flee from them; It compels us to accept them not for their own sake alone, but for the sake of a higher love, necessarily for the sake of love for God or neighbor. It is precisely this meaning of suffering and this attitude toward it—that it must be a voluntary feat of selfless love, a necessarily voluntary feat and a feat of the highest love and the highest, noblest principles of human life—that the world cannot and will not recognize, for it is accustomed to loving only itself, and with a love greater than the flesh and lust, a love for those external phenomena of present life that constitute the pleasant mirage of its existence. This idea, which we wish to affirm as purely Christian on the question of life's sufferings, is, I believe, supported by the entire present experience of man's own life and thousands of individual examples for confirmation; it is also not without a certain psychological truth. What, in fact, in ordinary life, public and private, motivates people to accept suffering, to embrace it fully, and not only not be burdened by it, but to find in it the highest meaning, the highest pride, and the highest triumph of their spirit? Yes, again, it is that same love: for the fatherland, for an idea, for family, for wealth, or even for something else—that very highest force in human nature that places man on the pedestal of free doer and creator of life. So, then, in ordinary life, at almost every step, we can see that love and freedom give meaning to suffering.They give them a different character and a higher value. Moreover, these very sufferings, as a feat of freedom and love, pass into history, becoming the property of humanity and an object of either simple wonder or even admiration.

It is precisely this law of attitude toward suffering that Christianity seeks to establish as the general principle of attitudes toward suffering, and it asserts that this is the only true law in the present circumstances of life, one that makes sense of these sufferings and reveals within them the highest truth and light—namely, the law of voluntary, free acceptance of all the burdens of life, all its sufferings, in the name of the highest love. True, it seems, not everyone can suffer like this, nor can everyone perceive life's sufferings according to this very law, for there are sufferings that seem particularly strange, the unraveling of which has tormented even the best and most profoundly Christian minds, like Dostoevsky—the suffering of children. They, of course, are in no way able to comprehend and reconcile themselves to suffering according to the law of attitude toward it that Christianity prescribes, for the simple reason that they do not yet possess a clear awareness of their personal freedom and self-definitions of love. But in that cycle of sorrows and sufferings and the overly complex confusion and chain of causes and effects that make up life, it is difficult to understand this confusion without a higher insight into life, it is difficult to immediately understand this suffering of innocent children.

Whose suffering children actually are, what causes it, what it evokes in us, and what it should evoke in us—this is what we must first understand. And then: where compassion exists and should exist alongside suffering, and where a higher moral meaning and evaluation must be brought into play, everything will certainly receive its due light and place. So, too, the suffering of children, where there is not yet and cannot be a feat of freedom and higher love on the part of the children themselves, will perhaps acquire meaning and reveal its mystery if at least those who have been given the blessing of freely creating their lives in the name of love make this an immutable law of their personal lives.

And life clearly tells us, through living examples, how these very sufferings of life resonate in the personal lives of those who have accepted them as a free struggle for the sake of higher love. What can one say about the spirit of the Apostle Paul when he openly says, " I take pleasure in weaknesses, in tribulations, in afflictions, and in imprisonments... for me to die is gain" ? Has not this mystery and meaning of suffering been revealed in the lives of a whole host of martyrs, confessors, saints, and ascetics of every kind.

That is why Christ said that everyone should not avoid suffering and not drown it out by means of an artificially created external mirage of the supposed blessings of life, but that everyone should take upon themselves the cross of their life of their own free will and follow Him, i.e., along the path of voluntary, free perception and bearing of suffering for the sake of higher love.

Thus, the mystery of the human personality, as the force that transforms life, is revealed once again, and once again man must recognize that while he may turn inward and seek the blessings and joys of life, he also denies them. And the word about the cross of Christ, as Christ's voluntarily undertaken feat for the sake of a higher love, speaks to us not of the foolishness and madness of life, but of the supreme wisdom of bearing life's sorrows with ease. This word, shining upon us with the light of life's highest meaning and the power of living, compassionate, and selfless love for God and neighbor, can tell us why summer has not yet arrived and is not yet felt by us; it can and does point the way to it.

Source: https://co6op.narod.ru/sermons/Feodor/index.html