Let us add some more thoughts of Sts. Fathers. Thus, St. Maximus the Confessor, in his letter 28 to Siricius, writes about the grace of the episcopate given to him to be an imitator of goodness and to be zealous for the gathering together of the scattered children of God, and to bind himself to them in an insoluble union of love. St. St. Isaac the Syrian wrote in his homily 8: "He who loves everyone equally out of compassion and without distinction has attained perfection." But especially remarkable is his word about the "merciful heart," which "is kindled in man for all creation, for man, for birds, for animals, for demons, and for all creation." "At the remembrance of them and at the sight of them, the eyes of man shed tears. Because of the great and strong pity that encompasses the heart, and because of the great compassion, the heart shrinks, and it cannot endure, or hear, or see any harm or small sorrow that the creature suffers. Wherefore for the dumb, and for the enemies of the truth, and for those who do him harm, he prays hourly with tears, that they may be preserved and have mercy, and also for the nature of reptiles he prays with great pity."

This teaching about the compassionate assimilation into the pastoral heart of every suffering, and especially a sinful person, was to a large extent inspired by the writings of Dostoevsky, on whom Met. Antony often and willingly refers to and under whose influence he was undoubtedly placed. It has undoubtedly to a great extent renewed our pastoral science, dried up in scholasticism and rationalism, and has inspired many young priests in their sacrificial service to humanity. This influence was undoubtedly strengthened by the charm of the personality of the metropolitan himself, who in fact carried out the same teaching and practically carried out this revival of the soul.

But the doctrine of compassionate pastoral love and of assimilating the conscience of another person to one's heart, which is correct in itself, should not, however, be absolutized. This is not the only task of the pastorate. If such a gift is given in a priesthood ordinance, it is not limited to it. Theology is not only asceticism, pastoral care is not only moralizing, the transfiguration of man is accomplished not only by psychological assimilation and the influence of one will on another.

The metropolitan wrote: "There is no pastoral activity: there is a pastoral conscience." If it is possible to say, "He is not a bad shepherd who does not know how to speak Greek, who does not have an ear for music or an imposing appearance, but he who does not know how to pray, who has not killed self-love in himself as the goal of his life, who does not know how to love, compassion and forgive," then the pastor's ministry is not exhausted by this alone.

And Anthony Khrapovitsky himself was not inclined to draw extreme conclusions from his positions. He did not identify Christianity, or even monasticism, with repentance alone (2, p. 417); He is the author of beautiful lines about the degeneration of our hymnography from the specimens of inspired poetry in hymns, in which "a darker character, full of slavish fear and fear of torments beyond the grave predominates"; He perfectly took into account the inclination of other pastors to engage in "forced salvation" and, misunderstanding what eldership is, to put the emphasis "on the podvig of obedience in the sense of only the fulfillment of certain duties." Such, as he says, "deeply religious and pious ascetics, but little gifted with a pastoral spirit" become heavy officials for their flock.

His demand for pastoral scholarship is certainly true, not so much to enumerate the duties and individual functions of a priest, as to cultivate in him this pastoral spirit and mood. It is wrong to limit this mood to compassion alone, to the psychological influence of conscience on conscience, to the preaching of moral perfection, etc. Anthony's psychologism and moralism always overshadowed the other, and especially excluded everything mystical. In the pastoral mood, however, the moment of mysticism cannot but occupy a very important place.

The moral element enters into the Christian gospel as it takes its rightful place in all religious teaching. But this moment cannot exhaust the entire spiritual life in Christianity. Although the Christian sermon itself began with the words of the Forerunner: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matt. 3:2), the understanding of repentance in Christianity contains two aspects: negative and positive. The genius of the Greek language expresses this religious feeling by the word metanoite, which is very different from our "repentance." In repentance one hears regret for what has been done, remorse, something passive in the sense of creation. The bitterness of irreparability occupies the main place here. We do not hear in this word "do good," but only "turn away from evil." The Greek word metania does not contain this sorrow for what has been done, namely, something impulsive, calling for a new work, the opposite of that which led to sin, since literally this word means "a change of thought," or, more broadly, a change of actions, a life, a doing. There is something active and constructive in this call. Sermon by Ap. St. Paul tells us this directly, since "every one must understand us as ministers of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God" (1 Cor. 4:1), or even more specifically: "He (Christ) ordained some apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of ministry, for the building up of the body of Christ" (Eph. 4:11-12). The same moral, spiritual aspect acquires the character not only of regret for what has been done, of repentance, which in itself is fruitless, but also of the creation of a new, good, positive deed, namely, the work of building up the Body of Christ. This is the meaning of the sermon of a Christian pastor and teacher. The construction of mysteries, the work on the tasks of the church, on the creation of its mystical body. This is a much broader task than weeping over one's sins.

Therefore, the work of salvation and teaching is not limited to mere psychologism and moralizing about the bad things that have been done, but the creation of something positive that does not perish in the Kingdom of Heaven. And Met. St. Anthony, who taught about the pastoral influence of one conscience on the conscience of another and about the assimilation of another's personality, up to the dissolution of this "I" in the conciliar "we" of pastoral love, did not think of limiting himself only to the negative moment of repentance, as indicated above. He only obscured to a considerable extent the purely mystical element, which was quite in keeping with his realism and psychologism.

How, then, was the Apostle's words about this structure of mysteries to be revealed? What is the atmosphere in which the pastoral activity of a priest should take place? What can compensate for the one-sidedness and exclusively psychological aspect of the influence of conscience on conscience? In the most important Christian sacrament, we reply, in the Eucharistic life, in communion with the Eucharistic body and the mystical body of the Church. The Eucharistic life is and must be the main spiritual aspiration of the priest.

A priest is first and foremost a theurgist. The priesthood is primarily the Liturgy, the Eucharist, the mystical union with Christ in the sacrament of the Body and Blood. The unity of both the pastor and his flock. The spiritual life of a priest must take place first and foremost in this Eucharistic sanctification of life, of oneself and of others. The Eucharistic character of the church must embrace the priest most of all. The impossibility of the Eucharist outside the Church and the existence of the Church outside the Eucharist. The Fathers of the Church did not write treatises on the Church, but lived in it and by it, just as they did not write scholastic treatises on the Holy Spirit in the classical period of theology, but lived in the Spirit. The construction of mysteries is the path commanded by Ap. Paul.

The fullness of the priest's ministry includes many responsibilities. He must meet all the requirements of his rank. He is expected to teach, nourish souls, do missionary work, worship, serve the sick, prisoners, the sorrowful, and many other things, so as not to speak of the priest's modern hobbies (in the West) with social, sports, and other activities.

But a priest, like any other mere mortal, may or may not be given certain talents by God. He may turn out to be a bad orator or an incapable administrator of his parish, a boring teacher of the Law of God, he may even be an insensitive and too demanding spiritual father, he may be deprived of the pathos of social service; but all this will be forgiven him and will not erase his spiritual activity, if only he possesses a sense of the Eucharist, if his main task is the "building of mysteries" and the celebration of the Divine Liturgy for the mystical communion of both himself and his flock with the Body of Christ, for the sake of their communion with the Divine nature, according to the words of Ap. (2 Peter 1:4). There is no greater power and no greater mystical means given to the priest than this service to the mysteries of the Body and Blood of Christ. This should be the priest's life's work. If the same Met. St. Anthony so remarkably called upon pastors "to build up in oneself the element of prayer by means of a long-term struggle," as the ability to ascend to heaven, then nowhere and in no way are this element and this ability fulfilled in the priest, as in the sacrament of the Eucharistic sacrifice.

But what does this Eucharistic mood mean? Let us answer clearly and definitively: an insatiable thirst to celebrate the Liturgy as often as possible. The priesthood consists precisely in this independent service of the Divine Liturgy by the priest himself, and not in the concelebration of others, be they rectors, archpriests, archimandrites, or even bishops. Concelebration, although it has a conciliar nature, is a deprivation of the servant to perform this sacrament himself, to build the mystical body of Christ himself. In concelebration there is often more solemnity, pomp, ritual aesthetics. But the Holy Fathers, who wrote about prayer, always spoke of its purity, sobriety, self-discipline, of mental prayer, i.e., of the highest degree of spirituality, of boldness, etc., but never did a single holy father or ascetic of the Church write about the solemnity of prayer.

The very notion of solemnity and pomp stands at odds with the spirit of Eucharistic impoverishment, with the mood of the Bethlehem and Golgotha kenosis. The pomp of conciliar services may correspond to the ritual of Byzantine or Vatican royal entrances and ceremonies, but it is not appropriate for the Chalice of Eucharistic Blood shed for the life of the world. In conciliar services, one can speak of the communion of those standing in a circle from the same Chalice and from one priest or bishop, but one cannot speak of concelebration, so here only the Primate serves, he alone symbolizes Christ, and the rest of the priests must present themselves as co-present apostles, waiting for the moment of communion at the hand of a single servant. This is taught to us by the history of the early Church and the writings of its teachers, the history of the liturgy, to which the later pompous ritual was alien and incomprehensible.