There were seven of us brethren (all strangers) in the Nitrian wilderness: I, Blessed Evagrius, Albinus, Ammonius, and others. We tried to find out exactly what John's virtue was. And so Evagrius says: "I would like to know about the dignity of this man from a man who knows how to judge his mind and words. If I do, I will visit him; but if I do not know how he lives, I will not go to him in the mountain." Hearing this, and saying no word to anyone, I tarried one day, and the next I locked up my cell, and, entrusting myself to God, set out for the Thebaid. Sometimes I walked, sometimes I swam by water, and ended my journey in eighteen days. (This was during the high of water, when there are many sick people; I also fell ill.) Coming to John, I found his vestibule locked (later the brethren built a spacious vestibule in front of the saint's cell, in which a hundred people could fit). They locked these porches with a key for a whole week and opened them only on Saturdays and Sundays. And so, having learned why the porch was locked, I waited until Saturday, and then at the second hour of the day I came to the righteous man. I found him sitting by the window, through which he always seemed to converse with visitors. After greeting me, he asked through an interpreter: "Where are you from and why have you come here? It seems that you are from the Evagrian brotherhood?"

While we were talking, the governor of that region, named Alypius, entered. At his approach, the Great One stopped talking to me, and therefore I stepped aside a little, so as not to disturb them. In such a mood I had already decided to depart with contempt for the elder. But the servant of Christ called to him an interpreter named Theodore, and said to him: "Go and say to that brother: 'Do not be faint-hearted; Now I will release the governor and speak with him.'" Then I became convinced that he was a spiritual man and knew everything in advance. Encouraged by this, I waited.

When the governor came out, the saint called me to him and said: "Why are you grieved with me? With what have I offended you, that you have such thoughts that are not characteristic of me, and unseemly for you? Do you not know what is said in the Scriptures: ... do not require the health of a physician, but are sick (Matt. 9:12)? I can always find you whenever I want, and you can find me. Even if I do not give you instructions, so will the other brethren, the other fathers. And this man, who was in the power of the devil because of worldly affairs, had hardly found a free hour, like a slave who had been delivered from a cruel master, and came to me to receive benefit, so it would be strange if I, having left him, were to take care of you, such a man who constantly cares for the salvation of his soul."

I asked him to pray for me and was absolutely convinced that he was definitely a spiritual man. Assuming a gentle appearance and lightly striking me on the left cheek with his right hand, he said: "Many sorrows await you; you have already struggled much with the thought of coming out of the wilderness, you have experienced many fears and conquered, but the demon still disturbs you, presenting you with pious and plausible pretexts; He tempts you with the desire to see your father and persuade your brother and sister to become monks. I will tell you the good news: both of them are saved, because they have renounced the world, and your father will live another seven years. Therefore, remain in your wilderness and do not return to their homeland for them, for it is written: ... let no one lay his hand on the saddle, and turn back in vain, he is ruled in the Kingdom of God (Luke 9:62)." Having received sufficient edification and rebuke from the words of the inspired man, I thanked God that the pretexts that impelled me to leave the wilderness had been removed by the foresight of the holy man.

Then he said to me again with an affectionate look: "Do you want to be a bishop?" I replied that I was already a bishop. "What city?" – asked the saint. I said to him: "I supervise the viands, tables, and earthen bowls; if the wine is sour, I put it aside, if it is good, I drink it; I also supervise the pots, and if there is little salt or any seasoning in them, I immediately add and then eat. This is my bishopric! And gluttony has set me up." The blessed one, smiling, said: "Stop joking! You will be ordained a bishop and will experience many labors and sorrows. If you want to avoid them, do not come out of the wilderness: in the wilderness no one can ordain you as a bishop."

Leaving him, I returned to my amiable wilderness, and all this I told the holy fathers about the blessed and spirit-bearing John. Two months later they went along the river to the holy man and conversed with him. And I, unfortunate, have forgotten his words. After three years I fell ill from an upset liver and stomach, and the brethren sent me from the wilderness to Alexandria, because my illness threatened to turn into a watery one. From Alexandria, the doctors advised me to go to Palestine for a change of air, because the air there is lighter than in our countries. From Palestine I came to Bithynia, and here – I do not know how to say whether it was by human disposition or by the will of the Most High (only God knows) – I was vouchsafed ordination, which is above me. Having taken part in the case of Blessed John (Chrysostom, Archbishop of Constantinople), I was forced to hide in a gloomy cell for eleven months, and here I remembered that the blessed and wonderful man, that is, John of Lycopolis, had predicted to me what had happened now.

This great ascetic of Christ also told me (and by this story, of course, he wanted to inspire me with the determination never to leave the desert) that he had been living in his cell for forty-eight years, and during all this time he had never seen a woman or a coin, nor had anyone seen him eating or drinking.

I have already said that two months after me the fathers from our wilderness went to this holy man. They told the following about their meeting with him: "When we arrived, the blessed one greeted us, addressing each of us with a cheerful face, and we first of all asked him to pray for us (such is the custom of all Egyptian fathers). Then he asked if there were any of the clergy with us. When we answered that there was not, he, having examined everyone, learned that there was a cleric among us, but that he was hiding. (There was indeed a deacon with us, but no one knew about it, except his brother, whom he, out of humility, forbade to speak about it, considering himself in comparison with such saints hardly worthy of the name of a Christian, not only of this rank.) Pointing to him with his hand, the monk said to all: "Here is the deacon." When he, wishing to conceal his calling, continued to deny it, the saint, taking him by the hand, kissed him from the window and, admonishing him, said: "Child! Do not reject the grace of God, and do not lie, denying the gift of Christ; a lie is alien to Christ and Christians, whether it will be told for a small or an important matter. Even if they tell a lie for a good purpose, it is not praiseworthy, for lies, according to the word of the Saviour, are of the devil (John 8:44)." The rebuked man was silent and accepted the gentle rebuke of the elder. When we had prayed, one of our companions, who had been suffering from a great fever for three days, began to ask the abba for healing. The abba said that this illness would serve for his own benefit and overtook him for his lack of faith, but at the same time he gave him oil and ordered him to anoint himself. When he did this, there followed an eruption through his mouth of everything that was inside, and the fever was completely gone, so that he went on his own feet to the inn."

Saint John was already ninety years old, and his body was so withered from asceticism, that even hair did not grow on his beard. His food consisted only of fruits, and he ate them after sunset. In such a very old age, after such a difficult life, he did not eat bread or anything else cooked on fire. When he ordered us to sit down, we thanked God for seeing this man. He received us as relatives, and with a cheerful look asked: "Where are you from, children? From what country did you come to a sinful man?" As soon as we announced our fatherland and said that we had come to it from Jerusalem for the benefit of our souls, in order to see with our eyes what we had heard (one can believe the ears less than the eyes: what we have heard is often forgotten, but the memory of what we have seen is not erased, and the event is as it were impressed in the soul), the blessed one answered us: "Why have you gone so far and exhausted yourselves, beloved children? What will you see here that is wonderful? You want to see humble and insignificant people, who are not worth looking at and in whom there is nothing special. There are those worthy of wonder and praise everywhere where God's prophets and apostles are read only in churches – they should be imitated. And I am very surprised at you and your diligence. How can you, having despised so many dangers, come to us for edification, while we, through laziness, do not want to leave our cave? But even now, although your work deserves praise, do not think that by doing this good deed you have done everything, but imitate the virtues of your fathers. If you have acquired all their virtues (which is rare), then you should not rely on yourself. Many fell from such self-confidence at a time when they were already at the very height of virtue.

See if you pray well, if the purity of your thought is not darkened, if your mind is not distracted during prayer by other worries, if some other thought has entered your soul, if it does not draw your attention to foreign objects. Does not the memory of any impure desires disturb your soul? See if your renunciation of the world is sincere, whether you have not come here to make use of our freedom, whether you do not seek vain glory in virtues, that you may only appear before men as imitators of our works. See to it that you are not disturbed by any passion, honor, glory and praise of people, or by feigned piety and self-love. Do not consider yourselves righteous, do not boast of righteousness. During prayer, do not be distracted by the remembrance of your relatives, nor by the feeling of compassion, nor by the thought of any other thing or of the whole world, otherwise your work will be vain when, during your conversation with the Lord, you will be carried away by thoughts that draw you in the opposite direction. Such a fall of the mind happens to everyone who has not completely renounced the world, but still tries to please it. His soul is distracted by a multitude of various carnal and earthly cares, and the mind, struggling with the passions, can no longer see God. And he should not zealously strive for the very knowledge of God, lest, being unworthy of such an acquisition, he be worthy of even a small part of it, and think of himself as if he had comprehended everything, and would not be subjected to complete destruction.

It is necessary to approach God with fear and gradually, in proportion to how much each person can move forward with his mind and as much as it is generally possible for a person. Whoever seeks God must have a heart free from all extraneous things, according to the Scriptures: "Be abolished, and understand that I am God" (Psalm 45:11). When he is vouchsafed to know God in part (no one can know Him completely), then along with this he receives knowledge of all other things: he sees mysteries, because God shows him, foresees the future, contemplates revelations on an equal footing with the saints, works miracles, becomes a friend of God, and receives from God everything that is asked."

John spoke much more about asceticism, and about the fact that death should be expected as a transition to a better life, and that one should not be too concerned about the infirmities of the flesh and fill the belly with whatever happens, for the satiated one has the same desires as the sensual. But one should try, he said, to acquire freedom from passionate desires through ascetic labors. No one should seek the comforts of life and peace, but must now endure distress and sorrows in order to inherit the breadth of the Kingdom of God. For through many tribulations, says the Scriptures, it behooves us to enter into the Kingdom of God (Acts 14:22); and again: ... For the narrow gate and the strait way lead into the belly, and there are few of them that find it. … For a broad gate and a broad way lead into destruction, and many are those who enter in it (Matt. 7:14, 13). As those who have to depart after a short life to eternal rest, we should not be much concerned with the things of the world. Likewise, he said, one should not be exalted by one's feats, but one should always humble oneself and withdraw into the deepest deserts, as soon as one notices a movement of pride in oneself. Life near villages often harmed perfect men. For this reason David, who experienced a similar temptation, says in the Psalm: Behold, he departed fleeing, and dwelt in the wilderness. I hope for God who saves me from faint-heartedness and from storm" (Psalm 54:8-9). Many of our brethren have been subjected to the same temptation and, out of vanity, have deviated from the goal.

Abba John's Tale of the Repentant Brother

In a certain city, said Abba John, there was a youth who had done very much evil and sinned grievously, who, however, by the mercy of God, was crushed for his many sins. He settled in a cave near the graves and wept over his former life. Throwing his face to the ground, he did not dare to utter a word of prayer, nor to pronounce the name of God, but before death he shut himself up in tombs and, considering himself unworthy of life and renouncing it, he only groaned from the depths of his heart. When he spent the week in this way, the demons rose up against him at night, the culprits of his former bad life, shouting and crying: "Where is this impious man, satiated with lust? He, now unfit for us, has appeared chaste and good, and wants to be a well-behaved Christian when he can't! Filled with our evil, what good do you expect for yourself? Will you not soon follow us from here to your usual business? Harlots and innkeepers await you – will you not go to enjoy the pleasures of voluptuousness, when all other hope is lost for you? Soon, of course, judgment will befall you, when you destroy yourself in this way. Why are you in a hurry to be tormented, wretched one? Why are you trying to speed up your execution?" And they said to him many other things, for example: "Thou art ours, united with us, doing all iniquity; Thou hast been submissive to us in all things, and now dare to forsake us? Why don't you answer? Won't you come with us?" But in the midst of incessant lamentations, he did not listen to them and did not answer them a word, no matter how much the demons attacked him. When, repeating this many times, they did not succeed in anything, they seized him and began to beat and tear his whole body severely, and having cruelly tortured him, they left him half-dead. Lying motionless where the demons had left him, he, however, immediately began his lamentations, as soon as he came to himself. Meanwhile, his relatives who were looking for him, having found him and learned by whom he had been so ulcered, wanted to take him home, but he would not consent, in spite of their repeated persuasions.