Death, for men who understand it, is immortality... ( St. Anthony the Great )

Death, for men who understand it, is immortality; while for the simple, who do not understand it, it is death. And one should not fear this death, but ought to fear the perdition of the soul, which is ignorance of God. This is what is terrible for the soul! 

 

Life is the uniting and joining of the mind (spirit), soul and body; while death is not the perdition of these joined parts, but the dissolution of their union; God preserves all this even after the dissolution. Just as a man comes forth from his mother's womb, so does a soul come forth naked from the body. Some are pure and bright, some are spotted by falls, and some are black from many transgressions. That is why the wise and God­loving soul, remembering and considering the calamities and extremities that come after death, lives piously lest it be condemned and subjected to them. But the unbelievers, the mindless in soul, do not perceive and they sin, despising what is to come. 

 

Just as on issuing forth from the womb thou dost not remember what was in the womb, so on issuing forth from the body thou dost not remember what was in the body. Just as on issuing forth from the womb thou becamest better and greater in body, so on issuing forth from the body pure and undefiled, thou wilt be better and incorrupt, abiding in the heavens.

Mortal men ought to care about themselves, knowing in advance that death awaits them. For blessed immortality is the lot of the holy soul when it is good, and death eternal meets it when it is evil. Remember that thy youth is past and thy powers exhausted, while thine infirmities have grown and already the time of thy departure is near, when thou wilt give an account of all thy deeds; and know that there, neither will brother redeem brother, nor will father deliver son. 

 

Always remember thy departure from the body, and do not let eternal condemnation out of thy thoughts; if thou wilt act thus, thou wilt not sin unto the ages. 

 

St. Anthony the Great

A Little Before Death ( Memoirs of a Greek Taxi Driver )

Shortly before the year 2000, my mother came over to my house and said, “Son, a few blocks away there is a distressed family with two elementary school girls. They need to live with their grandmother because they are going through a terrible ordeal. Their father, who is about your age, is a drug addict. I know his mother. Please drop by to see what you can do, because his wife and his mother told me that he is in his last days.”

“And what do you think I can do, mom? I can hardly keep up with my own dirty messes, and now all of a sudden you think I can help others?”

“Come on, my boy, you need to go; please, don’t upset me.”

The next day, I complied with my mother’s wish. With the blessing of my mother and my spiritual father, I prayed briefly and said, “My Panaghia, I will go, but you lead and I will follow.” When I arrived at the home, his mother welcomed me with a hug and a kiss. Then she drew me aside, and while she wept, she explained her Golgotha and the heavy cross the entire family had had to bear. As she was unfolding their very painful family drama to me, occasionally, she would use her apron to wipe her eyes. The poor woman had suffered so much all these years. She had gone to various neighborhoods and local businesses to borrow money to help her son get his drugs. What pain this mother had endured! What a Golgotha! What crises families in similar situations must be going through! I couldn't endure so much pain. I hugged her, and told her to have her hope and faith in Christ. When I went to the other room, and I saw her son lying in bed, the truth is that I wasn’t prepared for it; I was shocked. I went to give him my hand, but he couldn’t even exchange a handshake, because his fingers had become deformed. I grabbed him from the wrist and attempted to speak to him, but he would fade in and out of consciousness. With a little patience, however, we became acquainted and shared a few words.

“My brother, I am your neighbor,” I told him “I don’t know you, of course, but you don't know me either. So, since we have become acquainted now, what do you say, can we help one another?”

“It’s too late for me, Thanasi,” he told me in a whispering voice, “I am in the last stage. There is no recovery for me. The doctors can't do anything.”

“Humanly, yes, we agree, but don’t forget the power and grace of our God; what is impossible for man is possible for God” (cf. Luke 18:27).



“I believe in God, Thanasi, but I have fallen into a snake pit. I have made repeated efforts to detoxify myself for many years now but all in vain. I know that I upset my mother, my wife and especially my children. What can I do? I’m not to blame. It’s the deprivation of heroin.”

“So fine, since you believe that you are in a pit with snakes, stretch out your hand and ask the help of Christ. He is the only one who is able to take you out of this pit.”

“What must I do; and how?”

And he faded out again. I needed to wait a few minutes, for him to regain consciousness. In the meantime, I prayed and said, “My Christ, is he listening to what I’m telling him? Can he even think, understand, or remember? Please Lord, only You are able to help us, especially me.” A few moments later, he opened his eyes, and we spoke a bit more. In the end I told him, “I need to leave you now, my brother. The next time I come, if you like, I can bring a priest to read some prayers over you. I think this will do you much good.”

“Yes, Thanasi, I will wait for you. Bring the priest also. I don’t have a problem with that.”

When I came out of the room, there in the hall, I met his wife and their two charming little girls for the first time. They had red swollen eyes. As soon as they saw me they lowered their heads, probably out of shame for the condition of their father. I don’t know, but my heart went out to these little innocent girls; I shared their pain and loved them very much from the first moment. I talked for quite a while with his wife. We said many things, and the poor woman was constantly crying. I left in shambles.

Two days later, I went to his home with a priest, and he read some prayers of Saint Basil over him. I will not forget that I needed to hold him from the shoulder, so he wouldn’t fall down. At the end, we told him what his next steps were. He needed to go confess with sincere repentance, to be able to commune, to take Christ in him so that he could be strengthened.

By the grace of God, my friends, he accepted all this joyfully. Not only he, but his entire family, even his little girls came and confessed to Father , filled with joy and hope for a new beginning. When everyone was finished, Father pulled me aside and told me, “Thanasi, this man needs all the help he can get; do as much as you can for him, because he is in dire straits, he is not at all well. He needs to recover for the sake of his family. Under the circumstances, he has my blessing to receive Holy Communion whenever he is able.”

“Yes father, he’s going down fast, but please let me share a thought with you.”

“Go ahead, speak up.”

“This coming Sunday, I am thinking of going to church as a family to the monastery of Saint Nicodemos at Goumenissa. I will go with Glykeria, and the young man and his wife. Allow me also to take my friend Savvas, the paralytic, with me, so he can envelop us in prayer. On Monday, with your blessing, I'd like for all three of us to venture to the Monastery of Vatopedi, Mount Athos, for all of us to venerate the Precious Belt of our Panaghia. I will make all the necessary arrangements with the fathers.”

“Very well, but are you sure you can manage all this?”

“I cannot without God’s grace and your blessing and prayers.”

“Do accordingly, however God enlightens you. As far as I am concerned I bless you with all my heart.”

Then I proceeded to relay to the lad and his wife my ideas, to see if they would agree. They joyfully accepted my suggestions, especially his wife who responded with tears of joy, perhaps because a gleam of hope was finally on the horizon. I then turned to her husband and firmly told him, “My brother, I ask you, and I beg you. Between now and Sunday, while preparing yourself for Holy Communion at St. Nicodemos monastery and during the days of our pilgrimage to Mount Athos, don’t even think about using heroin.”

“Listen, Thanasi, I will speak to you with all sincerity, especially since I just confessed. I give you my word, here and in the presence of my wife, that I will not use heroin. I will take some kind of opiate substitute, so that I can stand on my feet. If I don’t do this, my bones will be creaking. My temple blood vessels will begin to burst; I will scream uncontrollably, because the pain is excruciating at the final stage of heroin addiction.”

“What are these substitutes?”

“They come in the form of pills[1], and they help me to stand on my feet.”

“Mr. Thanasi, don’t worry. I will be very careful, and I will not let him leave from my sight. I promise you,” his wife told me.

So, early Sunday morning, we all headed out. Savvas, my paralytic friend, was sitting in the front seat, and I asked him to pray unceasingly. The young man in the back however was sweating profusely and nonstop. The sweating continued and several times during the Divine Liturgy we had to exit the Church so he could catch his breath. I made sure always to be at his side to console him and help him as needed.

Soon enough, the voice of the priest was heard, “With the fear of God, with faith and love, draw near”; I held him by the arm and we waited for all others to commune first. Then as we slowly walked towards the chalice, I turned to the large icon of the Virgin Mary and silently asked her, “My Virgin Mary, please, help us to commune today and be with us as we travel to your perivoli[2] tomorrow." It seems that my prayer was heard.

That morning, everything went well at the monastery, thank God. The Abbot, who sensed the gravity of the situation, and learned that we would be leaving the next day for the Holy Mountain, was quite moved. Upon our departure, he walked towards the lad and prayed and said in a loud voice, “May Angels accompany you." His poor wife couldn’t control her tears all day long.

The next morning, we took a taxi, and all three of us arrived at the bus station[3]. I helped the young man onto the bus, and guided him to the open seats toward the back. I then lifted Savva the paralytic on my back, carried him onto the bus and placed him next to the young man. I reminded Savva to continue with unceasing prayer.

While on the bus and later on the ferry boat, we were able to discuss various nice things. The lad was listening to me carefully although he was sweating quite a bit due to acute withdrawal symptoms. He was constantly wiping his sweat, and he struggled to stay on his feet. In less than two hours we disembarked and continued on a minibus towards Vatopedi. The driver dropped us off a few hundred yards outside of the monastery. I looked around for some help but there was no one in sight. It was very difficult to roll the wheelchair on an uphill gravel road. I remember holding the lad with one hand, and pushing the wheelchair with the other. I will not be ashamed to tell you that my tears were running, while I was pleading to the Virgin Mary, silently saying to her, “My dear Mother, help me first, and then my brethren because I am the sickest one of all." When we entered inside the gates of monastery, it was noon, and everyone was resting. There were many stairs for us to climb. I first helped the lad up the stairs and then I lifted up the paralytic on my shoulders since there was no other solution at the moment. Finally I went back down once more to bring up the wheelchair.

When we found the Archondari[4], he received us with much love. We had notified the fathers about the purpose of our visit a few days prior. They were happy to see us because Savvas and I had visited Vatopedi before.

When we got settled in a room, another monk came and told me, “Thanasi, the Geronta (Abbot) wants to see you." I immediately went to him, did a prostration and received his blessing. We talked for quite a while, about the condition of the lad. The Abbot was very moved, asked that we write down our names, and promised to commemorate us during forty successive liturgies[5]. He asked us to come to one of the chapels in the afternoon, to venerate the Holy Relics and the Precious Belt (of the Virgin Mary). Upon entering the church, the father told the lad to kneel so that he could place the Precious Belt on his head, and to pray over him. I sat back and savored every second of this most beautiful hour. These were truly heavenly moments. When the priest finished with the young man he asked the paralytic to bow and receive the Precious Belt on his head as well. Then the father took the Belt, and went to leave. While he was preparing to depart, I asked him, “Father, please, don’t deprive me of this blessing, because I am the sickest one in the group. My body is healthy, but my soul is paralyzed." The father turned back, looked at me with a blank stare, and asked, “What’s your name, my son?”

“Thanasi.”

“Kneel, Athanasios[6], and may you have all the blessings of our Virgin Mary.”

The very Belt of the Virgin Mary was now resting on my head! What an indescribable feeling this was. I have no words even to begin to tell you what this felt like. Even if I did, you would not be able to understand it.

This was such an uplifting and truly beneficial pilgrimage. When we returned home, I went to find Father, to inform him how things went. He was very pleased and said, “Thanasi, don’t worry, the Virgin Mary will do her miracle." After this the recovering young man, stayed close to Fr. Triantafyllos[7] and continued to go to holy Confession, with his entire family.

Now, I am sure you are probably anxious to find out what happened to this young man and his family. Well, he is well, very well. The same man who could hardly even exchange a handshake, nor stand on his feet without being held, now returned to his old job of hard physical labor, and even works overtime. The smile returned to his family, especially to his charming little girls. They were no longer ashamed of their father at school. More importantly, he returned to our Christ. For this we are ever so grateful to the blessing of our Virgin Mary, to the supplications of the fathers, and to the prayer of the paralytic.

[1] The irony is that most people come to this sad position because of these prescribed painkillers. Dentists and doctors often overprescribe opium derivatives such as oxycodone (Oxycontin, Percocet), hydrocodone (Vicodin, Norco), codeine, morphine, etc., for pain management. These are usually highly addictive and when these prescriptions expire, a high percentage of their victims turn to heroin which is rather inexpensive in its beginning stages but later becomes very costly and deadly as its addictive qualities totally enslave the human organism. Overdosing is now the leading cause of accidental death in the United States, accounting for more deaths than traffic fatalities or gun homicides and suicides. Fatal overdoses from opiate medications such as oxycodone, hydrocodone, and methadone have quadrupled since 1999, accounting for an estimated 16,651 deaths in 2010.


[2] According to tradition the Virgin Mary and St. John the Evangelist were on a ship to visit Lazarus who was serving as a Bishop in Cyprus. Along the way, the weather became severe, and the swollen waves carried the boat north to the present location of the monastery of Iveron, on the Athonite peninsula. The Virgin Mary was truly enchanted by the paradisiacal beauty of this location so she asked her Son to gift it to her. This is why, to this day, the Holy Mountain is the exclusive “Garden of the Panaghia” and no other female-human or animal-is permitted to set foot on it.


[3] Mt. Athos is not accessible by land so visitors and pilgrims must travel to Ouranoupolis (150 km from Thessaloniki), the last seaport with frequent ferry boat rides to Dafne, the central access point to the one-thousand year-old monastic community with twenty major monasteries and their dependencies. At present there are approximately 2000 monks on the Holy Mountain.


[4] The monk in charge of guest accommodation.


[5] The most important of all Orthodox services, also called Holy Eucharist.


[6] Thanasi, the nickname for Athanasios (immortal), changes the meaning of this dogmatic Christian name from immortal to mortal. This is precisely why the Father used Athanasi’s baptismal name.


[7] Triantafyllo (thirty petals), is the Greek word for rose.

CZ

Metropolitan Hierotheos of Nafpaktos on Death

It can be seen clearly in the whole Biblico-patristic tradition that death is a fruit and result of man’s withdrawal from God and that the life in Christ is a transcending of death. Death came about through man’s freedom and self-will, and through life in the Church he can attain freedom from death. I should like to develop the subject of death in the light of two great Fathers of the Church, St. John of Damaskos and St. Gregory Palamas, who wrote down and systematised the whole teaching of the earlier saints.

a) Independence and death, according to St. John of Damaskos

According to St. John of Damaskos, man’s freedom, with which he was endowed by God, gave him the ability to commit sin or not. He writes that God made man “by nature sinless and endowed with freedom of will”. When he says that God made man sinless, he does not mean that he was not open to sin, because only the divine is not open to sin, but that “it is not in his nature to sin, but rather in his power of choice”. This means that man had the power to persevere and progress in the good, with the help of divine grace, as well as having the power to turn from virtue and fall into vice, “God permitting it because of man’s free will.”

Thus man’s nature was sinless immediately after his creation, but his will was free, he had the power to remain good and the power to withdraw from God. This is why death came as a result of the misuse of freedom, because man disobeyed God’s will. So man was created with the possibility of remaining immortal or of dying. And this depended on the right or wrong use of his freedom.

This freedom was related to reason. St. John of Damaskos, explaining why he was created with free will, says: “The freedom of the will is directly connected with the reason”. And everything that is created is also changeable. Being brought from nonbeing to being is a change, and so is being made into something else from an existing material. Now, inanimate things and brute beasts are changed by corporeal alterations, whereas rational beings are changed by deliberate choice. Thus choice, will, selection, which is connected with reason, is necessarily a mark of the created being, which was created out of non-being. Everyone who thinks and elaborates his thought has the possibility of making a choice. Since free will is connected with reason, therefore “a being may be irrational or rational; but if it is rational, it will be the master of its actions and free”. Irrational beings are not free, since, instead of leading nature, they are led by it. This is clear from the fact that they do not deny their natural appetite, but just as soon as they feel an appetite for something, they move to act. However, since man is rational, “he leads his nature rather than is led by it”. And this is clear from the fact that he has freedom to resist the appetite or to obey it.”

Thus man has free will, since he is created and changeable, and this free will is connected with reason. Man committed sin and died, first spiritually and later physically; he became mortal and passible. This is connected with his freedom. God did not create man to die, but man died because he misused his freedom.

I would like next to look at the teaching of St. Gregory Palamas about death and the way in which it came into the world.

b) The entrance of death according to St. Gregory Palamas

Citing the scriptural passage: “God did not make death, nor does He take pleasure in destroying the living” (Wisdom 1,13), St. Gregory Palamas writes that God not only did not create death, but neither is He the cause of the terrible things which followed death: diseases, illnesses and all the other evils. All the terrible things from which man suffers came from the sin which he committed by his free choice. He says: “It was through sin that we were clothed in garments of skin, this sickly and mortal and distressed body, and we have been deported to this temporary and destructible world and condemned to live a life of much suffering, full of disasters.” The garments of skin which we have been wearing, which are mortal and passible, are a result of sin, which came about through our own choice and freedom.

God not only did not create death, but he hindered its coming into the world. Since man had free will and God did not want to abolish his free will — this would mean a disaster — therefore as soon as He had created him and given him life, He gave him an immortalising piece of advice. The advice not to eat of the forbidden fruit is called a life-giving commandment, because it would lead man to life and would keep him from going towards death. He did not give this commandment imperatively, “but forewarned him of what would happen if it was not obeyed”. And He gave the commandment that on the day when they should eat they would die, so that they might take care not to transgress and thus avoid “meeting with death.”


In speaking about the death which man would meet if he transgressed His commandment, God meant both spiritual and physical death. But on the day of man’s sin, spiritual death would come, and then physical death, because on the day when he tasted the forbidden fruit he did not die physically, but spiritually. Spiritual death is forsaking God, precisely as the absence of light creates darkness. When God is present, it is impossible for man to experience death. St. Gregory Palamas writes: “When God, Who is life itself and the life of all the living, especially of those living a godly life, is present to our soul, it is impossible for death to be there as well”. Thus, death comes to our soul “not from God, but because of our abandonment of God, which is sin.” It is clear from this teaching that the cause of death is sin and, naturally, sin is linked with free will, with man’s ability to sin or to keep God’s commandment, to remain in God or to abandon God, where the true enhypostatic life is.

c) Sin and death

From all that we have said so far we can see that death came from sin, but it has to be added that sin also reigns in death. That is to say, sin and death are mutually interdependent. The Apostle Paul writes: “so that as sin reigned in death, even so grace might reign through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 5, 21). And in another place the same Apostle advises: “Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body, that you should obey it in its lusts” (Rom. 6, 12). And again the same Apostle says characteristically: “the sting of death is sin” (1 Cor. 15, 56).

In these apostolic passages sin is linked with death and it is said that sin is the sting of death, just as sin also reigns in death and in the mortal body. Thus the whole world of the senses, of mortality and the imagination is a prison which tyrannises man. Man cries out for freedom and for individual rights, but in reality he is a prisoner of decay and death. The Apostle Paul expresses this fact in all its tragic character: “I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my nous, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Rom. 7, 23-24).

I think it would be interesting to look a little more broadly at how sin reigns in death, how sin and man’s wretchedness come from mortality and corruptibility through his way of living death. For the sense of death and the certainty of it lead man to commit sins. And we can say with certainty that the way of living and the sense of death are a source of many troubles, both personal and social.

Because of death and the uncertainty of it, but also because of the variety of its consequences, which are illnesses and all the other sufferings, man is possessed of fear and anguish and in general of the instinct of self-preservation. The effort of self-preservation develops selfishness,

whereby man breaks the bonds of love, in fact abandons unselfish love and takes on love of self. He does all these things in the climate of self-love and vanity. Thus many passions develop, such as self-protection, egoism, hatred, jealousy and so many other things.

Therefore riches, private property, injustices, the lack of true love, murder and so many other evils, which are also a source of many other troubles, come from the experience of death.

Because death reigns in him and he sees his mortality in all its “majesty” and sees the sin that is bound up with this mortality and considers his life to be meaningless, therefore he tries in every way to persuade others that he is worthy. Many evils come from this. “He loves adulation and fears insults. He seeks his own and is jealous of others’ successes. He loves those who love him and hates those who hate him. He looks for safety and prosperity in wealth, praise, and bodily pleasures, or perhaps he imagines that he is destined for a personally blessed and placid enjoyment of the presence of God, unrelated to any expression of genuine and active love for others. Because of his anguish and fear, man becomes an individualist. And when he also identifies himself with some ideology of common ownership (not monastic-ascetic) he is again moved by individualistic selfishness, because he mistakenly sees his desire for self-satisfaction and happiness as his true destination. It may even be that some general ideological principles about love for mankind fire him with enthusiasm in some undefined way, in spite of the fact that a deadly hatred for his neighbour is lurking in his heart. These are the works of the ‘flesh’ which is under the power of death and satan.”

Interpreting the apostolic passage: “and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage” (Heb. 2,15), St. John Chrysostom says “he who fears death is a slave, and submits to all things rather than die”30. A man who is under the influence of death is a slave of sin, of the devil, and of death itself. He is also a slave of the passions and does everything in order to avoid dying, to prolong his life on earth. Referring to the people before Christ’s resurrection, Chrysostom writes characteristically: “ever expecting that they should die, and being afraid of death, could have no sense of pleasure while this fear was present with them.”


The life of the man who is under the threat of death and the law of sin becomes unbearable and tiresome, it becomes a life without meaning and purpose. Man was formed with the possibility of remaining immortal and of living eternally with God. But through sin he lost this calling, with the result that he suffered a terrible experience, that of being sheathed in mortality and corruptibility. Because he knows that the purpose of his creation was different, he becomes unbearable, unsatisfied, hard to manage. He is not satisfied with anything, not pleased by anything, not content with anything good whatsoever. He can enjoy all the material goods, yet without overcoming death he is a tragic man. This is the explanation of why he is constantly possessed by a grievance. The man who is a slave of death has no freedom at all, he is a tragic being, a continually unsatisfied man. The theatre, literature, philosophy and other such things are a small respite in the tragedy of his life. So education, psychology, philosophy, the human activities in general, cannot effectively help him or develop him fully.

In the tragedy of this situation man tries to forget death. This too is a way of escape from the reality and tragic nature of death. But it increases the problem and the tragedy. By repressing and forgetting death man is led to a sensual life, to consumption and a way of living which consists only of material enjoyment. “Autonomised consumption as a basic content of life, corresponds opportunely with man’s need to possess, to have sensual pleasure and to forget his death.” This way of life, which is called the culture of consumption, “this vague and illusory ‘science’ (which certainly has no connection with study and research) solves all the metaphysical problems of the average man, it answers all his questions, and presents death either as a physiological end to biological existence and a plunge into non-existence, or, finally, as the last obstacle to the advance of science, which also cannot but be conquered some day.”

d) Transcending death

The dreadful results of death and its tragic nature arc transcended by Christ’s resurrection and the ecclesiastical life in general Church. As long as sin is the sting of death, it means that when sin is abolished, death too is abolished within the personal life, and so a man in this life enjoyi immortality. For immortality is not simply the natural I “” dition of the soul, it is not the life beyond the tomb, bill il” transcending of death through the life in Christ.

The Apostle Paul, who speaks of sin as the sting of death, writes: “when this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written: ‘Death is swallowed up in victory. ‘O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory? The sting of death is sin’ (1 Cor. 15, 54-56).

The interpretation given by St. John Chrysostom is characteristic. He says that not only has death been abolished by Christ’s Resurrection, but the power of the devil has been destroyed. “Do you see that in casting out the tyranny of death, he also overthrew the strength of the devil?.” After Christ’s Resurrection death “is no longer terrible, but has been trodden under foot, has been utterly despised; it is vile and of no account.” Therefore anyone who lives the life in Christ “fears no one, he is in terror of no one, he is higher than all, and more free than all.” Therefore true freedom is the transcending of death, it is freedom from death and sin.

The person who lives in the Church by the sacramental and ascetic life is rejecting the sting of death, which is sin. If we think of how in the whole patristic tradition it seems that sin is darkening of the nous, and from this darkening the passions are created, then freedom from death and from sin is the illumination of the nous. This means that man first goes through the stage of purification, casts out of his heart all evil thoughts, rids himself of pleasure and pain, then experiences illumination of his nous. And then he lives a truly free life which transcends death. The Christian’s whole ascetic effort consists in this, and this is the aim of the sacraments and asceticism.

The Christian in the Church first experiences mindfulness of death. Not only does he not seek to forget death and to thrust it into the unconscious, not only does he deny the reality and tragic character of death, but he has it constantly in his mind and in this way acquires a naturalness, because the sense of mortality and decay is truthfulness.

Mindfulness of death, which is the beginning of man’s freedom from its tragic character, is meant in two senses.

The first is mindfulness of mortality and the certainty of the end of biological life. This mindfulness, combined with the existence of the soul after death, the partial crisis after the soul’s departure, and the resurrection of the body at the Second Coming of Christ for the whole man to be judged, creates terror and fear. Man reflects upon the sin and passions which possess his soul, he recalls what Christ and the Apostles taught about the life of sinners, of the unrepentant, and he is possessed with fear and terror. It is the fear and terror of the entry into the spiritual life. This fear, increased by and connected with hope in the love of God and the sense of the Church as a Hospital leads him to a cure and to love, which “casts out fear” (1 John 4, 18). Thus there is the fear of the entry, aroused by the Judgement to come and the reality of Hell, and the fear of the perfect, which is connected with the sense of God’s love. In this second category man fears sin because he realises that it leads him far from God and creates in him the sense of Gehenna/eternal torment.

A second interpretation of the recollection of dotttl I the charismatic state of remembering death. Through the removal of divine grace, man falls into despair and godly hopelessness. Just as Adam’s sin had consequences whole of creation, so also man’s sin, that is to say the darkness of the nous, has cosmological consequences. He himself feels that he is dead to God and, indeed, he sees the whole world as dead, dying. Nothing offers him joy, peace and happiness. Everything is dead. In this way he understands existentially that he is a microcosm within the macrocosm, a summing up of the whole creation. Since the grace of God comes to the heart and is conveyed through it to the body and to the whole cosmos, and the loss of the grace of God has disastrous effects on the whole world, this means that man is the summing up of creation.

It can be said that the sin which we commit is worse than Adam’s sin. St. Gregory Palamas says that many people blame Adam because by following the advice of the devil he disobeyed the advice of God “and thereby brought about our death”. But, he says, it is not the same to want to taste a deadly plant before knowing its destructive effects, as it is to taste this deadly poison when we know its dreadful consequences from experience. It is the same with our own sin in relation to Adam’s sin. Adam sinned without knowing through experience exactly what sin was and what were its dreadful results, whereas each of us commits sin, having this experience. Therefore St. Gregory Palamas says: “Each of us is more worthy of blame and criticism than Adam.”


Mindfulness of death, either as an experience of mortality or as a sense of the loss of the divine life, is a spiritual gift, and therefore an experience of transcending death and of our freedom from its tyranny. For this experience even with the two forms is not independent of the grace of God. It is only through the inspiration of the grace of God

that man can experience such states and only in this way that he can free himself from the tragedy of death. This is why ways of life which embrace mindfulness of death, lives which are “death-centred” are natural and true, they mark the natural boundaries of man’s life. Through the sense of mortality a man becomes more social and transforms his personal relationships.

St. Philotheos of Sinai writes that mindfulness of death embraces many virtues. “Mindfulness of death begets grief; it promotes the exercise of self-control in all things; it is a reminder of hell; it is the mother of prayer and tears; it induces guarding of the heart and detachment from material things; it is a source of attentiveness and discretion. These in their turn produce the twofold fear of God. In addition, the purging of impassioned thoughts from the heart embraces many of the Lord’s commandments.”


Liberation from death is brought about by life in Christ, when the person feels an inalienable peace in his heart, a love for all men, and even for his enemies, release from every tyranny which created things wish to impose, uninterrupted mindfulness of God.

I should like for us to look next at some particular characteristic signs which manifest the transcendence of death, man’s liberation from its dreadful tyranny.

The first is that the person is not afraid of death and the time of death. Not only is he not possessed by the fear of death, but he is also looking forward to it. Of course this anticipation is not from the point of view that he is waiting for his soul’s release and freedom from his body, as the Platonic philosophers taught, but for the possibility of meeting Christ and being liberated from the change and deterioration which constitute the biological life. I may add that he rejoices as the hour approaches. This is expressed by the Apostle Paul: “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labour; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you” (Phil. 1,21-24).

The second is foreknowledge of death. There are many saints, old and new, who have been granted by God to see the hour of their death and to prepare themselves for it. They have seen it and waited for it in joy.

The third is the confronting of death when it comes. Athanasios the Great describes the blissful end of St. Antony the Great. After talking with those present, and kissing them, “he lifted up his feet; and with a look as though friends had come to him and he was overjoyed at the sight of them — for, as he lay there, his face had a cheerful look — he passed away and was gathered to his fathers.”


The fourth is the glory of the man who has overcome sin and death by the time of his departure from this life. A characteristic example is that of Sisoes the Great. When he was at the point of death, while many fathers were with him, “his face shone like the sun”. Then he said: “Look, Abba Anthony is coming”. A little later he said, “Look, the choir of prophets is coming. “And again his face shone more brightly… A little later he said: “Look, the choir of apostles is coming”, and the brightness in his face redoubled. Then those present, seeing that he was speaking with someone, asked him to tell them with whom he was speaking. He replied: “The angels have come to fetch me, and I

am begging them to let me do a little penance”. And when the fathers told him that he had no need for penance, he replied: “Truly, I do not think that I have even made a beginning yet”. With that the Fathers understood “that he was perfect”. Then at once his face became like the sun. And he said to those present: “Look, the Lord is coming and He is saying: “Bring me the vessel from the desert”. And at once he gave up his spirit. “Then there was a flash of lightning and all the house was filled with a sweet odour.”

The fifth characteristic sign of the gift of a blessed death is the martyrdom of a saint. Death through martyrdom is really a gift of grace, because it is not a matter of will power, but an experience of deification, which is a clear indication of the transcendence of death. In fact martyrdom is a fruit of seeing God, an indication that the Christian has been united with Christ and received a martyr’s grace. This means that the experience of deification transforms the soul and body. But martyrdom is a gift of a blessed death and a sign of transcendence of death, according to a theological explanation given by St. Gregory Palamas.

Speaking of the Worthy Forerunner, and especially of his beheading, he writes that the Baptist of Christ “did not need to undergo natural death”. It was not necessary to undergo a natural death, because death is a result of Adam’s transgression. But the Worthy Forerunner is not a debtor, because he is a servant of the commandment and subject to God from his mother’s womb. The saints generally give their lives for virtue and devotion “and for this reason a violent death is more suitable for them than a good death”. That is why Christ died in this way. As long as the sting

of death, which is sin, is set aside in the saints, the most natural way of departure from this life is through martyrdom, a violent death.

The saints inspired by the grace of God were freed from the reign of death. This is not an imaginary thing, but a reality, for it is related to man’s freedom from sin and the liberation of the nous from reasoning, the senses and the imagination.

3. The freedom of the nous

Freedom from death and from sin is very closely connected with the freedom of the nous from sin. Freedom is used in this sense in the New Testament, especially in the epistles of the Apostle Paul. Let us look at two characteristic passages.

a) Freedom and nous

The first passage is: “And having been set free from sin, you became slaves of righteousness. I speak in human terms because of the weakness of your flesh. For just as you presented your members as slaves of uncleanness, and of lawlessness leading to more lawlessness, so now present your members as slaves of righteousness for holiness. For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regard to righteousness. What fruit did you have then in the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. But now having been set free from sin, and having become slaves of God, you have your fruit unto sanctification, and the end, everlasting life. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 6,18-22).

Here for the Apostle Paul slavery is linked with slavery to the passions and to the deeds of the flesh, the end of which is death, while freedom is linked with man’s purity from the passions, with holiness, and the end of this freedom is eternal life. In the teaching of the Apostle Paul freedom is in reality the freedom of the nous from attack by the passions, and this brings about illumination of the nous.

St. Nikodemos the Hagiorite, interpreting this passage, says: “There are three freedoms according to Koresios: Freedom of nature, the freedom of grace and the freedom of glory and beatitude. Freedom of nature is contrary to force and to the tendency toward a single good and makes one independent. Freedom of grace is opposed to sin and the passions and makes one righteous and holy. And the freedom of glory is opposed to death and to the temptations of the present life and makes one blessed; this is the Apostle’s word concerning freedom and grace.” So it concerns freedom of the nous.

Taken from The book "The person in the Orthodox Tradition" by Metropolitan Hierotheos of Nafpaktos

Dealing with a death ( Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh )

Awareness of the present

Death is the touchstone of our attitude to life. People who are afraid of death are afraid of life. It is impossible not to be afraid of life with all its complexity and dangers if one is afraid of death. This means that to solve the problem of death is not a luxury. If we are afraid of death we will never be prepared to take ultimate risks; we will spend our life in a cowardly, careful and timid manner. It is only if we can face death, make sense of it, determine its place and our place in regard to it that we will be able to live in a fearless way and to the fulness of our ability. Too often we wait until the end of our life to face death, whereas we would have lived quite differently if only we had faced death at the outset.

There is a patristic injunction, constantly repeated over the centuries, that we should be mindful of death throughout our life. But if such a thing is repeated to modern man, who suffers from timidity, and from the loss of faith and experience which prevails in our time, he will think he is called upon to live under the shadow of death, in a condition of gloom, haunted always by the fear that death is on its way and that then there will be no point in having lived. And death, if remembered constantly and deeply, would act as a sword of Damocles for him, suspended over his head by a hair, preventing the enjoyment of life and the fulfilment of it. Such an approach to the saying must be rejected. We need to understand mindfulness of death in its full significance: as an enhancement of life, not a diminution of it.

Most of the time we live as though we were writing a draft for the life which we will live later. We live not in a definitive way, but provisionally, as though preparing for the day when we really will begin to live. We are like people who write a rough draft with the intention of making a fair copy later. But the trouble is that the final version never gets written. Death comes before we have had the time or even generated the desire to make a definitive formulation. We always think that it can be done tomorrow. 'I will live approximately today. Tomorrow is when I shall act in a definitive way. It is true that things are wrong, but give me time. I will sort them out somehow, or else they will come right of themselves'. Yet we all know that the time never actually comes.

The injunction 'be mindful of death' is not a call to live with a sense of terror in the constant awareness that death is to overtake us and that we are to perish utterly with all that we have stood for. It means rather: 'be aware of the fact that what you are saying now, doing now, hearing, enduring or receiving now may be the last event or experience of your present life'. In which case it must be a crowning, not a defeat; a summit, not a trough. If only we realized whenever confronted with a person that this might be the last moment either of his life or ours, we would be much more intense, more much attentive to the words we speak and the things we do.

There is a Russian children's story in which a wise man is asked three questions: What is the most important moment in life? What is the most important action in life? And who is the most important person? As in all such stories, he seeks everywhere for an answer and finds none. Finally he meets a peasant girl who is surprised that he should even ask. ‘The most important moment in life is the present - it is the only one we have, for the past is gone, the future not yet here. The most important action in this present is to do the right thing. And the most important person in life is the person who is with you at this present moment and for whom you can either do the right thing or the wrong'. That is precisely what is meant by mindfulness of death.

The value of the present moment may be realized when someone dear to us has a terminal illness and, more particularly, when we are aware that he or she may be dead within minutes. It is then that we recognize the importance of every gesture and action, then that we realize how slight the differences between what we usually consider the great things in life and those which are insignificant. The way we speak, the manner in which we prepare a tray with a cup of tea, the way in which we adjust an uncomfortable cushion become as important as the greatest thing we have ever done. For the humblest action, the simplest word, may be the summing up of a whole relationship, expressing to perfection all the depth of that relationship, all the love, concern and truth that are within it.

If only we could perceive the urgency of every moment in the awareness that it may be the last, our life would change profoundly. The idle words which the Gospel condemns (Matt 12:36), all those statements and actions which are meaningless, ambiguous or destructive — for these there would be no place. Our words and actions would be weighed before they are spoken or performed so that they might be culminating point in life and express the perfection of a relationship, never less.

Only awareness of death will give life this immediacy and depth, will bring life to life, will make it so intense that its totality is summed up in the present moment. Such precisely is the way in which the ascetics fought against mindlessness, lack of attention and carelessness, against all the attitudes which allow us to miss the moment of opportunity, to pass the other person by, not to notice the need. One of the chief things that we are called upon to learn is awareness - awareness of our own self and of the other person's situation, an awareness that will stand the test of life and death. All life is at every moment an ultimate act.

Fear of death, longing for death

We know from experience, our own and other people's, that we are afraid of death or uncertain about it. To be precise, I think that we are more afraid of the process of dying than of the fact of death. Most people might be ready to accept death if they were sure that death would come as sleep, without an intermediate period of fear and uncertainty.

Indeed, there is even something beguiling and attractive about death. How often people say, 'I wish I were dead': it is a way of saying, 'I wish I could be free of all responsibility either to myself or God or anyone else, I wish I could return to the condition of my early childhood when there was no need for me to live responsibly and I could simply play'. Most of us would prefer to play at living rather than to live commitedly. Consequently there is a fascination in death, seen as a liberation from the burden and responsibility of life. But in that sense death must be seen as an adversary, for it is one of the ways in which we are beguiled into turning away from what life offers in terms of a challenge and in terms of relationship. When people say, 'I am not afraid of death', we should always be ready to challenge them and ask whether their acceptance or even longing for death does not disguise a fear of life: 'I am terrified of life and would like to escape from it at all costs - if only I could go to sleep and never wake up, if only I could leave others to face my responsibilities, all the things which I have left undone or done amiss'. We should not be romantic in our attitude to death.

If we look to the saints we discover an altogether different attitude to death. Their love of death was not founded on a fear of life. When St. Paul says, 'For me to live is Christ and to die is gain [...]. I should like to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better' (Phil 1:21, 23), he is expressing a completely positive attitude to death. Death appears to him as a gate that will open on to eternity, enabling him to meet face to face the Lord who is all his love and all his life. But this cannot be achieved by wishful thinking. There is more to it than that. In order to be able to long for death in this particular way and to see death as the crowning of our life, as its unfolding to the measureless measure of eternity (to use a paradoxical phrase of St Maximus the Confessor), we must have an experience of eternal life here and now. We must not think of eternal life as something that will come later, as future happiness or future security. The apostles became fearless only when they themselves became - here and now - partakers of eternal life. As long as they had not received the witness of Christ's resurrection, as long as they had not received the Spirit, they were still afraid and clung in fear to their temporal life. But the moment they had access to life eternal, their fear of losing temporal life disappeared; for they knew that hatred, persecution and murder could do nothing more than free them from this life's limitations and enable them to enter into the boundless depths of eternal life. And this eternal life was known as a present experience, not only in an act of faith. The same is true of the martyrs. They were ready to die and possessed the sovereign freedom of self-giving because they knew life eternal and had in some measure already entered into it.

Death as an event in daily life

We could learn much about death if we took the trouble to look at our own experience. Death is much closer to us than we imagine, and we all could speak of experiences of 'death' which are in no sense frightening. What I have to say on this subject is neither new nor my own: perhaps more than anything else in my talk it is borrowed from others.

First of all, dying from a practical point of view means to drop out of self-awareness into an oblivion of self. This is something many people are afraid to do. Yet each of us goes to sleep every evening, loses himself completely in sleep, and without any fear. Why? Because we feel certain - to a great extent unjustifiably pertain - that we shall wake the next morning. We trust that the next morning will dawn for us, that sleep is a temporary experience. Could we not treat this as a parable of the process by which we die and wake in eternity? For in reality there is a great risk in closing one's eyes and going to sleep. There is no more dangerous place than one's bed, as noted in the story of the sailor and the peasant, who were considering the dangers of their respective conditions. The peasant insisted that he would never risk his life on the sea: 'It is far too dangerous'. When the sailor asked why he should think so, the peasant replied: 'Where did your father die?' 'At sea.' 'And your grandfather?' 'Also at sea.' 'And you still can't see how dangerous it is to go to sea?' But the sailor countered the question with his own: 'And where did your father die?' 'He died in his bed.' 'And his father?' 'Also in his bed.' 'And yet you dare to go to bed each night?' In this sense we ourselves face death trustfully and confidently each night. And when this kind of temporary death does not come easily to us, we even go so far as to take sleeping pills or nightcaps. Is it not curious that we fail to draw conclusions from the simplest things of life?

There is another way in which the experience of death is familiar to us all. As Romano Guardini has pointed out in his book The Last Things, there are several ways of dying in the course of a life. When we move from infancy to childhood, then to youth and adolescence and so to maturity and old age, we imagine that we grow out of one stage into the next. But if we are to develop, a number of things which were previously our condition must die in us: for a youth or adult preserves the characteristics of his childhood becomes childish, even infantile. In order to acquire maturity at the next stage of development, we must accept that something in us dies. And this dying may be a painful and difficult process, in a way as difficult as the actual dying of our body in the dissolution of death. Many parents know this all too well. They may long for their child to remain a little boy and they may be deeply disturbed at the sight of the young adult emerging out of the youngster. The process of dying in order to live is going on within us all the time: by contrast with such parents we must become aware of it and participate more actively in it. Then shall we be less afraid of death as an irrevocable loss. Rather shall we learn to regard it as an inevitable part of the process by which we grow into a more mature and complete life.

Death to self

Christ calls us to die to ourselves. What does this mean? The phrase is ambiguous, like everything else that is said about death. Does it mean self-destruction? Many imagine that it does, and try to apply it in that sense. Fortunately they fail, but they remain wounded by the terror of it. Properly understood, dying to oneself means acceptance of this progressive dying of things within us, until we come to the point when we realize that there is in us a real and deep self that belong to eternity, and a superficial self that has to be dissolved. We must let go of the superficial self in order to live fully.

Many feel that they cannot be aware of their own existence unless they assert themselves and demand recognition; and others of course react by trying to defend themselves against this kind of aggression. We can accept not to assert ourselves, not to impress upon others this awareness that we exist, only if we can believe - and we can believe it only on the strength of experience - that we are loved and affirmed by others. We must learn to be far greater than we are. It is not enough to know that God loves us and affirms us. We need to be affirmed by our neighbour, by at least one person, who says to us, 'You matter ultimately to me'. Gabriel Marcel insists in one of his books that to tell a person 'I love you' is tantamount to saying 'You shall never die', meaning as it does 'You matter to me so ultimately that I will assert you before the face of God, even if no one asserts you but God and myself'. We could achieve a great deal if we were prepared to recognize one another and to say, however tentatively, 'Yes, I am prepared to assert you. Although I am not sure how to do it completely, since your existence so far is a challenge, even an aggression, although I am afraid to do so, yet I will assert you as much as I can'. In this way, we could grow to the maturity that will allow us to assert the other and proclaim his ultimate value whatever the cost. The person who is asserted in such a way can forget about himself and live. Such is the line along which we are called to go.

We must have the courage to struggle through layers of fear in asserting one another ever more, fighting fear, yet overcoming it. At every step we have to renounce ourselves so that the other can be. As St John the Baptist spoke of himself decreasing in order that the Other might increase (John 3:30), so are we called to die progressively to ourselves that the other, our neighbour, may live. So to die means to leave nothing within us except that which is essential to the fullness of life.

Death as enemy and friend

Yet things are not so simple. It is true that, as St. Paul says, to live is Christ and to die is gain. It is true that to die is not to be divested of temporal life, but to be clothed with eternity. But there is a further point emphasised by St Paul, as also by the rest of Scripture. Man was not created for death; his calling is for eternal life; death is the result of sin in the sense of separation from God, breach with neighbour, loss of contact with man's real and deeper self. From that point of view, death is the last enemy that shall be destroyed (1 Cor 15:26). Death is the enemy, God's as much as ours. Indeed, it is God's enemy in the most striking and dramatic way, for it extends even to Christ himself. But while on the one hand death is such an enemy, the fact that it does reach out to Christ, that it kills him who is perfect man and God himself incarnate, also shows that it is not an evil devoid of meaning. For however much a result of sin and evil death may be, it is not in itself a sin or an evil which necessarily corrupts whoever it touches. Christ was not defiled in his death on the Cross, in his descent into hell, in his partaking of the total tragedy of death: his person was not polluted by communing in its mystery.

So there is an ambiguity here. On the one hand death should not exist, death is the result of evil and is to be defeated. On the other hand death alone enables us to break through the vicious circle of endlessness (and endlessness is something quite different from eternity). If there were no death in a world of sin, evil and corruption, we would slowly decay and disintegrate without ever being able to escape the horror of such gradual destruction.

There was a soldier in a Russian fable who managed to capture death and put it into a bag. He carried the bag on his back, safely secured, and was regarded at first as a benefactor who had saved mankind from its greatest scourge. But then it became obvious that while death might have gone, illness and old age were as much present as before. And when the soldier one day met an old woman, bent with age and illness, she shook her fist at him and shouted: 'Look what you have done, you evil good-for-nothing. You may have captured death, but you have deprived me of my freedom. Here am I, a prisoner of endlessness, part of a process that has no resolution'. The soldier realized what harm he had done and unleashed death. I need hardly add that it is still free and abroad.

Physical and spiritual death

Each Easter midnight and throughout the forty days that follow we sing that Christ is risen, having undone death by death. And yet what do we see? Death free and abroad, people dying as before. It would seem as if we are affirming something that we know to be untrue.

But we should keep in mind that there are two aspects or death. There is physical death, but there is also death, understood as separation from God, as descent into Sheol, the place where God is not, the place of his radical and definitive absence. It is this second aspect of death which is certainly the more cruel and atrocious. When we look at icons of Christ's harrowing of hell or speak of it in the Apostle's Creed, we are confronted by something unquestionably real. The Lord experienced not only the first aspect of death, but the second also. He chose to share with us in all the consequences of evil - including the final separation from God ('My God, my

God, why has thou forsaken me?'). But although he descends to the place where all those who have lost God descend, he brings with him the fullness of the divine presence. Consequently there is now no place left where God is not. And it is this which allows us to understand our situation since Christ's death and resurrection. We have still to undergo a temporary death, what St Paul describes as a falling asleep (1 Cor 15:6). But there is no longer the death which was the terror of mankind, the final dissolution and separation from God. And in that sense death is indeed undone by death. Even now - however germinally and tentatively - we are the heirs of eternal life.

Facing death

I once went to preach about death at a British university. Afterwards, the chaplain said to me, 'Do you know, I have never seen a dead person'. I was utterly amazed that a priest, a man in his fifties moreover, had never met death in his family life or in his priestly function - even during the war. It was an incident that made me take more note of my surroundings, and I realized that there is a very strong feeling here that death is a subject to avoid. The dead person should be committed to the care of the undertakers, while the living should turn away from the problem, and the less said about it the better. I found all this very offensive. Since giving that sermon I have taken every opportunity to speak about preparation for death to medical students, doctors, nurses, and to anyone else who is willing to listen. And I have made the discovery that people are quite ready to think about preparing for the death of others. At the same time very few are prepared to reflect that their own turn will come, and that preparation for death really begins with assessing death for oneself, taking a stand, and learning how to live well in order to die well - not so much in moral terms as skilfully, in the right way.

Yet we are all of us sick with the terminal disease known as mortality. It may take us some time to die of it, possibly thirty, sixty years or more. But we are all without exception sick with it and there is no doubt but that death will ensue. It follows that preparing for death cannot concern merely the other person or persons in our care, it concerns ourselves.

Freedom from the power of death

How then shall we prepare? From one point of view death has power over us. We were born and we shall die. It is as simple as that. But there is another aspect of death over which we can have some control.

Some years ago one of our parishioners fell ill. He was taken to hospital, where it was discovered that he had inoperable cancer and would die. He was not told about it at first. But his family was, and so was I. When I went to see him his first reaction (as so often is the case) was one of protest and recrimination. 'There is so much still to do, and here am I lying in this bed, unable to do a thing. How long is it to be?' I reminded him of something he had often said: 'If only I could put a stop to time, if only I could simply be'. I reminded him also that as yet he had never made any serious attempt to put a stop to time. Now God had done it for him. Thus he had no reason to complain, nor any reason to feel guilty. The whole thing was beyond his power to change. Yet lying still as he was, with time flowing by on either side of him, he was given the stillness of his present condition. And he could be as freely, completely and perfectly as he chose.

When I asked him whether he felt that he was yet in a condition of being, he answered, ‘There is still turmoil within me. I can do nothing, yet I go through the motions in respect of all sorts of things'. I put it to him that illness always confronts us with the things that are ultimate, most obviously with death. In death there are two elements or powers in action. The one power is extrinsic: the germs, the virus, the cancer or whatever it is that seeks to destroy the body. The other consists of all the negative attitudes and feelings that suck away vitality from within: resentment, bitterness, remorse, regrets, lack of peace. I urged him to concentrate on all the power of death that lay within him, and to let the doctors look after the rest.

After that we went through a long process (extending over several months) during which, day by day, he assessed his attitude to those who were closest to him. He had the time to do it; moreover was able to do it in the right spirit, seeing things as they were, not from a pragmatic point of view, but from an absolute angle. In the process he made his peace with all those around him.

Next we went back into his past, moving from one thing to another, seeking to understand his own sense of guilt, to assess what he had done or left undone, what others had done or omitted to do. Gradually all this field was cleared. It took a great deal of courage. For it is by no means easy for a man to look at his own life from the stability of the present moment and to make this moment the beginning of God's judgement on himself.

Eventually, he reached the point when he was almost transparent, so weak that he could hardly use his hands to bring food to his lips. Yet he said to me, 'How extraordinary it is. I am a dying man, there is nothing left of my strength. Yet I have never felt so intensely alive as I feel now'. He had found himself at that point of absolute cogency and stability which was free and independent of whatever might happen to his body.

Only if we free ourselves from all the germs of death which are within us can we reach such a point, where we become aware that we are ultimately immortal, though our bodies die.

It is not too late

When we recall our past as this man did, we sometimes remember someone we have harmed, but who is now long since dead; and it seems as if there is no way of setting things right. Let me give an example. I met a man in his eighties who, nearly sixty years before, when he was an officer in the Russian Civil War, had accidentally shot the girl he loved, a nurse in his unit. For the rest of his life he could never find peace. He told me that he had repented deeply, had confessed and received absolution. But it made no difference: nothing could free him from his sense of guilt. So I said to him, 'Why do you turn only to God, to Christ, to a priest to be forgiven? These were not your victims. Turn to the one you killed, to the girl'. He was taken aback. 'What do you mean, "turn to the girl"? I killed her sixty years ago.' 'Indeed you did', I answered. 'For that very reason, when you are at prayer this evening turn to her and say, "It is sixty years ago now, but I still carry the guilt and reproach of what I did to you. As the victim, you are the only one who has the power to forgive. Forgive me. And ask God to give me an assurance of forgiveness through peace".' He acted on my suggestion and indeed gained such assurance.

Too often we fail to resolve something in our past because we turn in the wrong direction. If God is not the God of the dead but of the living (Matt 22:33), then all those who have departed this life are alive in him; we, for our part, can turn to them for their intercession and forgiveness. All too frequently people who have lost someone whom they loved feel that they have not loved them as perfectly as they should; that they are indebted to them in terms of love, but that now it is too late to do anything about it. This is a mistake which we should never allow ourselves to make. It is never too late if we truly believe that God is the God of the living. Never should we say that we loved one another in the past tense. The death of the body does not involve a breach in a relationship that was, is and always remains between people who met and loved each other on earth.

The seeds we sow

Death is never the end. The good we have done continues after us and bears fruit in the lives of others. Unfortunately, the corollary is also true: we can also leave a legacy of evil.

On the positive side, consider the effect of the Gospels. There are countless people who have been converted and transformed by reading even a small passage from them. This they gain from what someone, many centuries ago, formulated and wrote down for the sake of Christ. I myself owe my faith to St Mark. If there is anything good that has come out of my life it is because one day, when I was fifteen years of age, I read St Mark's Gospel and Christ revealed himself and entered into my life.

By contrast, I think of quite other people who have written books, such as the French nineteenth century writer Gobineau. Gobineau wrote some remarkable short stories, but also a miserable little treatise on the inequality of races. It is a treatise that would now be altogether and deservedly forgotten, except for one thing: it was read by Hitler. It is difficult to suppose that Gobineau shares no responsibility before God for all that resulted from his book. He was a theoretician. But his theories became practice, and they were to cost millions of innocent lives.

In this connection, I remember a fable by Krylov. Two individuals were sentenced to hell and placed in neighbouring cauldrons. One was a murderer, the other had merely written some trashy novels. The author took a quick look over the rim of his cauldron to see how the murderer was faring. He himself was being boiled so fiercely that he could not imagine how his neighbour might be treated. To his indignation he saw the murderer basking in tepid water. He summoned the devil on duty and expressed his dissatisfaction: 'I merely wrote some novels, and yet you give me such a violent boiling. Whereas this man committed murder and he is relaxing as if that were his bath'. 'True', said the devil, 'but that's no accident, it's deliberate.' 'How so?' 'Well', said the devil, 'this man murdered someone in a fit of rage. So we give him a hard boiling every now and again because that's how his rage flared up, then we give him a rest because it subsided. As for you, whenever anyone buys one of your books we stoke up the fire under your cauldron and add extra fuel'.

There is a theological point here. Our life does not end conveniently when we die, even on earth. It continues over the centuries through heredity and through the by-products of our existence; and we continue to carry a responsibility for its repercussions. Thus, we have met today; I have spoken; I shall be answerable for anything that you will have received and for the way in which it may affect your life.


Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh

Being cognizant of death ( St. Luke Archbishop of Simferopol )

Before David became the King of Israel, he was a servant of King Saul. Since Saul knew that David would someday take his throne, he attempted to kill him. Once when his life was in danger, the Prophet David said to those who were his supporters: “I am only one step away from death.At one time I was almost dead.I hardly had a pulse and my heart almost stopped beating.But the Lord was merciful to me and I am still weak and I am able to speak to you only in a seated position.I wish to tell you something very important about this. I want to talk to you about being cognizant of death because it is very close to each one of us, as it was close to me last Saturday.Anyone of us can die suddenly at a time when it is unexpected.You should know that the lives of many people are ended abruptly.”

Remember always—engrave the name of the Lord in your hearts.Always remember this and do not ever forget it.When people prepare to go for a long walk or start a new chore, they gird themselves for the effort.And when they walk in the darkness of night they carry with them a lantern and this is very important because it must always light our way.

The same thing is true about our spiritual lives.We must gird ourselves and keep our lanterns lit.We must be untiring workers of God and we must struggle against Satan who tries at every turn to hinder us from reaching Christ. He tries to kill us with temptations.This is why the Lord Jesus gave us this command: “They encircled us while we had our lanterns burning.”

We must never forget that earthly life has been given to us so that we can prepare for eternal life. Our fate in eternal life will be judged and based on how we have lived our lives in this world.

You should be faithful to Christ.You should be faithful to the way of life He has shown you in the Book of Revelations written by John the Apostle and Evangelist.He tells us in that book: “Become faithful until death and you will be given the crown of life.” (Rev. 2:8).We must be faithful to God.We must serve God tirelessly every day, every hour and every moment of our lives.Our life is short, we cannot waste the few hours, days, and years living our lives aimlessly.We should always think about the hour of our death.

All of the holy ascetics always remembered the hour of their death.It was part of their daily prayer life.They even had human skulls in their cells to remind them of their own death.They would look at them with tears in their eyes knowing that they too would follow in their footsteps.They served God tirelessly and worked for the Lord just like St. Seraphim of Sarov did.They would remember every day the words of the 33rd psalm which is read at the vesper service: “The death of the sinners is evil.”Just like you, they also remember the following words: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” (Psalm 16:5).Sinners have a great fear of death and I have seen many examples of this in my life.But there is one particular incident that I witnessed forty years ago that made such a deep impression on me that I will never forget it.

At that time I was a provincial doctor and I was invited to the home of a very evil man.As I entered his house I was startled by the great deal of turmoil that I found there.People in the house were running all over the place.An old man was lying on a bed. His face was very red and as soon as he saw me enter the room he began to yell out at me saying: “Doctor, I beg you to save me.I am dying, I realize now that I will die.”

Where was this man before this moment in life?What was he thinking when he was terrorizing so many people during his life?What was he thinking when he was taking all the people’s money?Now death had arrived.It is here and it is too late now to say: “I am dying, and I realize that I will die.” He should have lived his life knowing someday that he would die so that he would not now be prepared for death.

Who is there in the world that does not fear death?Only he who follows Christ and lives by His commandments does not fear death because he knows the promises made by Jesus Christ in the Beatitudes: “Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven.” (Mt 5:12).

The deaths of the saints were completely different from those of us who lack faith. St. Seraphim of Sarov died while kneeling in front of an icon of the Holy Mother to whom he always prayed.He fell asleep in the Lord on his knees for precious was his death in the eyes of the Lord.

Our Lord Jesus Christ tells us: “Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtakes you.”(John 12:35).While you are alive you still have the Light of Jesus Christ. In life you still have the ability to go to Church to hear the commandments of God and to hear the words of Scriptures.You should walk in that Light because when death comes, the Light will go out for you.This is so because beyond the grave, there is no remission of sins and you will receive your reward in accordance to the good deeds that you did in life.

Therefore, walk in the Light while you have the Light so that you will not be overwhelmed by the darkness, the eternal darkness of death.St. Paul the Apostle says: “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
(2 Cor. 6:2).Now that we are living is the acceptable time for our salvation.Now, we should think about our salvation and to prepare ourselves for eternal life.That is what all Christians do, all those who love Christ.

Seventy years ago a doctor lived in St. Petersburg, Russia.His name was Gaaz.He had been assigned to serve the needs of those in jail.He had a very kind heart.He had a heart full of compassion and he loved all people.In his position as a doctor to those in jail, he did everything in his power to help these unfortunate people. He saw the prisoners being sent off to far away prisons in chains.He knew that they would be forced to walk thousands of miles until they reached the jails in Siberia and his compassionate heart went out to them.In order for him to feel their pain, he also wore chains on his feet and walked for hours around the yard of his home.When he was on his death bed, this holy man and physician said to the people around him the following miraculous words, words that all of us should keep in our hearts.“You should make it a priority in your lives to do good deeds for people.It is urgent for you to do this because death awaits all of us.Do not be frivolous in your lives.You should be faithful to Christ until death and God will give you the crown of life.”

The Prophet Isaiah said something which we also should remember andimprint it upon our hearts.“Be troubled you complacent ones; strip your lives bare, and gird sackcloth on your waists.” (Isaiah 32:11).

Tremble and remember death.You should always remember the time when you will leave this life and do not ever forget it.In order for us to have this mindset, and to follow Jesus Christ, we need the help of God.Without this help we will not be able to defeat the temptations of Satan.This is why we should ask God to send us Divine Grace.

Lord, have mercy on us sinners. Lord help us.

We should entreat Jesus like the idol worshipping woman did as you heard today in the Gospel reading.She was a Canaanite woman and when she saw Christ with His disciples she began calling after Him and entreating Him with the following request: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David, my daughter is severely demon-possessed.” (Mt. 15:20).But the Lord did not pay any attention to her and He silently continued his journey.The woman continued to entreat Him but He would not answer her.Finally His disciples said to Him: “Send her away, for she cries after us.” (Mt. 15:23).And the Lord answered: “I was not sent except to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.” (Mt.15:24).

The woman continued to entreat Him. What did the Lord say to her?“It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the little dogs.” Mt. 15:26.And in response he heard an astounding answer filled with humbleness and compassion.“True Lord, yet even the little dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their master’s table.” (Mt. 15:27), give me a crumb from your mercy.The Lord stopped when He heard this and said to her: “O woman, great is your faith.Let it be to you as you desire and her daughter was healed from that very hour.” (Mt.15:28).

Many of us live a life that is not consistent with the Christian message.Many of us are burdened with various sins.Many of us have forgotten the Word of God which says: “The sting of death is sin.” (1 Cor. 15:56).Death wounds the person who becomes a slave to sin.Then, if we areweak and if the garments of our souls are all black with sins aren’t we like the dogs?Shouldn’t we also shout unto Christ as the Canaanite woman did: “Lord, I am like a dog, have mercy on me!” “You have girded me with strength for battle and the lanterns are lit around me. Amen.”


St. Luke Archbishop of Simferopol

Adulterous Passion Is Death ( St. Nikolai Velimirovich )

Not one passion is conquered without a great struggle. The Holy Fathers have referred to adulterous passion as death. When the adulterer is saved from an adulterous passion it is as though he resurrected from the dead. For those who live in the world the passion of adultery is inflamed principally by seeing and for those who live a life of asceticism in the wilderness that passion is inflamed by thoughts and by imagination.

Saint Sarah, a great female ascetic, was tortured by the insane passion of adultery for thirty years. She always defeated it by prayer and drove it away from her. At one time, the foul insanity of adultery came to her in bodily form and said to her: "Sarah, you have defeated me!" Sarah humbly answered: "I have not defeated you but the Lord Christ has defeated you." From that time on, the thought of adultery left her forever.

When Saint Pimen was asked how can a man struggle against the adulterous insanity, he replied: "If man surpresses his stomach and tongue then he will be able to rule over himself."

St. Anthony said that there exists three kinds of movements in the body: "First, the natural movement, second, unrestrained in food, and third, from the demons."

Again, others have said that the vice of adultery is strengthened by anger and pride. However, all agree that along with man's sobriety and effort the help of God is necessary in order that this repulsive passion be uprooted completely. And that it is possible for man to preserve himself in purity, witness, among many others, St. Moses of Urgin, who lived fifty years in the world and ten years in the monastery, altogether a total of sixty years in completely virginal purity.





St. Nikolai Velimirovich

St. Luke of Simferopol on the moment of death

St. Luke Archbishop of Simferopol

St. Luke of Simferopol on the moment of death
Before David became the King of Israel, he was a servant of King Saul. Since Saul knew that David would someday take his throne, he attempted to kill him. Once when his life was in danger, the Prophet David said to those who were his supporters: “I am only one step away from death.At one time I was almost dead.I hardly had a pulse and my heart almost stopped beating.But the Lord was merciful to me and I am still weak and I am able to speak to you only in a seated position.I wish to tell you something very important about this. I want to talk to you about being cognizant of death because it is very close to each one of us, as it was close to me last Saturday.Anyone of us can die suddenly at a time when it is unexpected.You should know that the lives of many people are ended abruptly.”

Remember always—engrave the name of the Lord in your hearts.Always remember this and do not ever forget it.When people prepare to go for a long walk or start a new chore, they gird themselves for the effort.And when they walk in the darkness of night they carry with them a lantern and this is very important because it must always light our way.

The same thing is true about our spiritual lives.We must gird ourselves and keep our lanterns lit.We must be untiring workers of God and we must struggle against Satan who tries at every turn to hinder us from reaching Christ. He tries to kill us with temptations.This is why the Lord Jesus gave us this command: “They encircled us while we had our lanterns burning.”

We must never forget that earthly life has been given to us so that we can prepare for eternal life. Our fate in eternal life will be judged and based on how we have lived our lives in this world.

You should be faithful to Christ.You should be faithful to the way of life He has shown you in the Book of Revelations written by John the Apostle and Evangelist.He tells us in that book: “Become faithful until death and you will be given the crown of life.” (Rev. 2:8).We must be faithful to God.We must serve God tirelessly every day, every hour and every moment of our lives.Our life is short, we cannot waste the few hours, days, and years living our lives aimlessly.We should always think about the hour of our death.

All of the holy ascetics always remembered the hour of their death.It was part of their daily prayer life.They even had human skulls in their cells to remind them of their own death.They would look at them with tears in their eyes knowing that they too would follow in their footsteps.They served God tirelessly and worked for the Lord just like St. Seraphim of Sarov did.They would remember every day the words of the 33rd psalm which is read at the vesper service: “The death of the sinners is evil.”Just like you, they also remember the following words: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” (Psalm 16:5).Sinners have a great fear of death and I have seen many examples of this in my life.But there is one particular incident that I witnessed forty years ago that made such a deep impression on me that I will never forget it.

At that time I was a provincial doctor and I was invited to the home of a very evil man.As I entered his house I was startled by the great deal of turmoil that I found there.People in the house were running all over the place.An old man was lying on a bed. His face was very red and as soon as he saw me enter the room he began to yell out at me saying: “Doctor, I beg you to save me.I am dying, I realize now that I will die.”

Where was this man before this moment in life?What was he thinking when he was terrorizing so many people during his life?What was he thinking when he was taking all the people’s money?Now death had arrived.It is here and it is too late now to say: “I am dying, and I realize that I will die.” He should have lived his life knowing someday that he would die so that he would not now be prepared for death.

Who is there in the world that does not fear death?Only he who follows Christ and lives by His commandments does not fear death because he knows the promises made by Jesus Christ in the Beatitudes: “Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven.” (Mt 5:12).

The deaths of the saints were completely different from those of us who lack faith. St. Seraphim of Sarov died while kneeling in front of an icon of the Holy Mother to whom he always prayed.He fell asleep in the Lord on his knees for precious was his death in the eyes of the Lord.

Our Lord Jesus Christ tells us: “Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtakes you.”(John 12:35).While you are alive you still have the Light of Jesus Christ. In life you still have the ability to go to Church to hear the commandments of God and to hear the words of Scriptures.You should walk in that Light because when death comes, the Light will go out for you.This is so because beyond the grave, there is no remission of sins and you will receive your reward in accordance to the good deeds that you did in life.

Therefore, walk in the Light while you have the Light so that you will not be overwhelmed by the darkness, the eternal darkness of death.St. Paul the Apostle says: “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
(2 Cor. 6:2).Now that we are living is the acceptable time for our salvation.Now, we should think about our salvation and to prepare ourselves for eternal life.That is what all Christians do, all those who love Christ.

Seventy years ago a doctor lived in St. Petersburg, Russia.His name was Gaaz.He had been assigned to serve the needs of those in jail.He had a very kind heart.He had a heart full of compassion and he loved all people.In his position as a doctor to those in jail, he did everything in his power to help these unfortunate people. He saw the prisoners being sent off to far away prisons in chains.He knew that they would be forced to walk thousands of miles until they reached the jails in Siberia and his compassionate heart went out to them.In order for him to feel their pain, he also wore chains on his feet and walked for hours around the yard of his home.When he was on his death bed, this holy man and physician said to the people around him the following miraculous words, words that all of us should keep in our hearts.“You should make it a priority in your lives to do good deeds for people.It is urgent for you to do this because death awaits all of us.Do not be frivolous in your lives.You should be faithful to Christ until death and God will give you the crown of life.”

The Prophet Isaiah said something which we also should remember andimprint it upon our hearts.“Be troubled you complacent ones; strip your lives bare, and gird sackcloth on your waists.” (Isaiah 32:11).

Tremble and remember death.You should always remember the time when you will leave this life and do not ever forget it.In order for us to have this mindset, and to follow Jesus Christ, we need the help of God.Without this help we will not be able to defeat the temptations of Satan.This is why we should ask God to send us Divine Grace.

Lord, have mercy on us sinners. Lord help us.

We should entreat Jesus like the idol worshipping woman did as you heard today in the Gospel reading.She was a Canaanite woman and when she saw Christ with His disciples she began calling after Him and entreating Him with the following request: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David, my daughter is severely demon-possessed.” (Mt. 15:20).But the Lord did not pay any attention to her and He silently continued his journey.The woman continued to entreat Him but He would not answer her.Finally His disciples said to Him: “Send her away, for she cries after us.” (Mt. 15:23).And the Lord answered: “I was not sent except to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.” (Mt.15:24).

The woman continued to entreat Him. What did the Lord say to her?“It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the little dogs.” Mt. 15:26.And in response he heard an astounding answer filled with humbleness and compassion.“True Lord, yet even the little dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their master’s table.” (Mt. 15:27), give me a crumb from your mercy.The Lord stopped when He heard this and said to her: “O woman, great is your faith.Let it be to you as you desire and her daughter was healed from that very hour.” (Mt.15:28).

Many of us live a life that is not consistent with the Christian message.Many of us are burdened with various sins.Many of us have forgotten the Word of God which says: “The sting of death is sin.” (1 Cor. 15:56).Death wounds the person who becomes a slave to sin.Then, if we areweak and if the garments of our souls are all black with sins aren’t we like the dogs?Shouldn’t we also shout unto Christ as the Canaanite woman did: “Lord, I am like a dog, have mercy on me!” “You have girded me with strength for battle and the lanterns are lit around me. Amen.”

St. Luke of Simferopol