So a sick man, remembering the pleasant state of health, more earnestly desires recovery. A captive, remembering the delight of freedom, seeks release. A poor man, remembering the peace of sufficiency, uses every means to become rich again.
I think there would not be a single man careless and negligent about his salvation if this memory did not grow poor: how good it was before the fall, and how bad it became after the fall. Of course, this memory could cast us into despair if we did not have at hand the means to set our condition right.
But behold, the solicitous goodness of God has established on earth a form of rising again and brought it near to us. It is a form of rising again full of good hope, already tested by many, and it has shown its wondrous power in them.
In such a condition, remembering from where we have fallen is like stirring up thirst when a pure spring of water is before one's eyes. Or it is like stirring up hunger when an abundant table is before one's eyes.
This is the intention with which the history of the fall of our forefathers is set before us every year, before the beginning of the holy fast. Through it we are told: "Remember what you were before, what you have become now, and be zealous to rise again. Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Cor 6:2).
But behold, as if in defiance of God's care for us, among all saving truths that are little remembered, our fall in the persons of our forefathers is remembered least of all. It is as though everything must be just as it is. What a pitiable forgetfulness!
Suppose a king's daughter were drawn into lowly deeds, and for this were deprived of the favor of her royal father and fell into a low condition. If she became so insensible that she forgot that she was not in her proper place and not in her proper form, this would be pitiable. And it would be still more so because the royal house was in sight, the means of appeasing the king existed, and the king's readiness to receive his daughter again and restore everything to her was known and declared.
In precisely this condition is our soul, created according to the image and likeness of God, when it does not keep in thought what it was originally and what it has become now. It does not wish to use the means granted to it for returning to its first dignity.
It was placed in the light of knowledge, but now it is surrounded by the darkness of ignorance, doubt, and error. It was filled with the peace of thoughts, desires, and conscience. But now there is in it a struggle of thoughts with desires, and of thoughts and desires with conscience. From this struggle come wound after wound.
There was in it sweet rest and complete contentment. But now one passion after another strikes the heart, at the very time when, through satisfying passion, it hopes to obtain self-delight. From this inward disorder come outward sorrows, needs, illnesses, failures, and disorders. Is this the paradise of delight in which you, O soul, should dwell according to your origin and calling? Remember, then, from where you have fallen, and repent.
It would seem that everyone should feel the unnaturalness of our present condition, suffering hardship through his whole life and experiencing every kind of inconvenience and deprivation. Yet this does not happen. Some become so accustomed to their fallen condition that they do not even think that it ought not to be so. They even prove that it cannot be otherwise. What misery!
Pitiable are all who do not feel the fall and do not seek to rise again. Still more pitiable are Christians, and those who live before the face of Christianity. Before us stands the house of salvation, and within it we have already partaken of the healing powers at work there.
It is pitiable if we have gone out of it after tasting the foods that had healed us. But it is still more pitiable if, standing outside, we look indifferently upon the loss and in carelessness do not hasten to enter again within, and there delight in its good things.
Awaken, then, brethren, your souls, if they have fallen asleep. Awaken them, saying: "Arise, O soul sleeping and benumbed in sins. Arise, and Christ will enlighten you. You have already been enlightened, and you know how great is the blessedness of the enlightened. Be zealous again for the same thing, and arise. Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation."
We fell by tasting. Let us compel ourselves to rise by fasting. We fell by self-conceit. Let us rise by self-abasement. We fell by impenitence. Let us rise by tears of contrition. We fell by carelessness and forgetfulness of God. Let us rise by care for salvation and by the fear of God.
We fell by surrendering ourselves to comforts. Let us rise by hardness of life and voluntary deprivations. We fell by estrangement from the Church. Let us rise by cleaving to the house of God. We fell by listening to shameful songs and allowing ourselves dances. Let us rise by listening to Church hymns and by frequent prostrations.
We fell by much speaking. Let us rise by silence. We fell by distraction. Let us rise by solitude and the guarding of attention. We fell by listening to empty talk and reading empty books. Let us rise by listening to the word of God and reading books that save the soul.
A few more hours, and the saving time of the fast will begin, inviting us to rise again. Let us use it according to the guidance of our wise and solicitous mother, the Holy Church. Let us use it, for we do not know whether such a time will be given to us again. Who would wish to remain in the fall and pass fallen into the other life?
Perhaps this is already our last year in which we have been left alive, to test whether we will bring forth the fruit of repentance and amend ourselves. Therefore, if even now we do not amend ourselves, we shall be cut down and cast into the fire.
Keeping this in mind, let us from this moment set our intention. As we enter the fast, let us also enter upon the struggles of rising from our falls. This the Lord requires of us. This the Holy Church expects. This all the saints of God desire, as they think of us with care and look with sympathy upon the deviations of our paths. Amen.
THEOSIS