If anyone wants to follow Me, said the Lord, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and come after Me. Amen.

Dew

Across the blue, cloudless sky, on a beautiful summer day, the magnificent luminary made its usual way. The golden crosses of the cathedral's five-domed church, erected to the glory of the All-Holy Divine Trinity, were burning; its silver domes reflected the dazzling radiance of the sun's rays. The shadow showed the onset of the tenth hour, at which the Divine Liturgy usually begins. Numerous crowds of people hurried from the main road to the peaceful monastery of the monks: it was a Sunday or a feast day – I do not remember.

Behind the fence of that monastery, to the east side, lies a vast meadow. Then it was covered with thick, delicate grass, heterogeneous wild flowers, which bloomed and smelled carelessly in freedom and freedom. That day abundant dew fell on him. Innumerable drops of it were visible on every flower, on every stem and small leaf, and in each drop the sun was clearly depicted; each drop emitted rays similar to the rays of the sun. The meadow looked like a wide-spread velvet carpet, on which a luxurious hand scattered an innumerable multitude of multi-colored precious stones with an excellent sheen, play, rays and radiance over the bright dense greenery.

At that time, the hieromonk, who was preparing to celebrate the Divine Liturgy, came out with deep thought from the side solitary gates of the monastery [859] and, having taken a few steps, stopped in front of a vast meadow. His heart was quiet; Nature responded to the silence of the heart with inspired silence, that silence with which the beautiful morning of June is full, which is so conducive to contemplation. Before his eyes is the sun in the azure clear sky, and the innumerable imprints of the sun in innumerable drops of dew in the vast meadow. His thought was lost in a kind of infinity, his mind was without thought, as if deliberately prepared, attuned to the reception of a spiritual impression. The hieromonk looked at the sky, at the sun, at the meadow, at the glittering drops of dew, and suddenly before the eyes of his soul there opened before the eyes of his soul an explanation of the greatest of the Christian mysteries, that explanation which can explain the incomprehensible and inexplicable, the explanation by a living likeness, by a picturesque picture, which was before his eyes.

It was as if someone had said to him: "Here! the sun is wholly depicted in every humble but pure drop of dew: so Christ, in every Christian Orthodox Church, is wholly present and offered at the sacred Table. He imparts light and life to His communicants, who, having partaken of the Divine Light and Life, themselves become light and life: thus the drops of dew, having received the rays of the sun, begin to emit rays of their own accord, similar to the rays of the sun. If the material and perishable sun, the creation of the Creator, which cost Him one effortless wave of His will to come into being, can at one and the same time be depicted in innumerable drops of water, why should not the Creator Himself, omnipotent and omnipresent, be present at one and the same time with His Most Holy Flesh and Blood, united to them by the Divinity, in innumerable temples? where, by His command and decree, the all-powerful, all-holy Spirit is invoked to bread and wine to perform the greatest, most salvific, most incomprehensible Mystery?..

Carrying a deep and strong spiritual impression in his bowels, the servant of the Mystery returned to his cell. The impression remained alive in his soul. Months have passed, years have passed, it is as alive as it was on the day of the initial sensation. Sharing with my neighbor benefit and edification, now, after many years, I depict him with word and pen. A meager image! Pen and word are weak for a complete and accurate depiction of spiritual mysteries.

Sacred secret vision! a sacred vision of the mind! With what unexpected suddenness you appear in a picturesque, striking picture before a mind prepared for the vision of the mysteries by repentance and attentive, solitary prayer! How the knowledge you impart is powerful, clear, and alive! What an indisputable, incomprehensible conviction! You are independent of men: you come to him whom you choose or to whom you are sent. In vain would man want to penetrate into spiritual mysteries by himself, by his own effort alone! He will be only a weak dreamer, groping in the darkness of self-deception, feeling and communicating neither light nor life. As chains sound on the hands and feet of a slave, so in the thoughts and words of the dreamer there will be an echo of violence, counterfeiting, coercion, slavery and the abomination of sin. The path to spiritual mystery is constant abiding in repentance, in weeping and tears for one's sinfulness. Weeping and tears are the collurion with which the eyes of the soul are healed [860].

St. Sergius Hermitage, 1846.

The Sea of Life

Before my eyes is the majestic sea. In the north, it is mostly cloudy and stormy; and sometimes it is beautiful. A vast sea! the deep sea! You attract to yourself both eyes and thoughts. I look at the sea for a long time indistinctly. There is no variety in this spectacle; but the gaze and thoughts cannot tear themselves away from it: it is as if they float on the vast sea, as if they are immersed in it, as if they are drowning in it. What fullness is felt in the soul when the eyes enjoy and are satiated with the contemplation of the sea! Let's see, friends, let us look at the sea from our monastery shelter, built by the hand of God's Providence by the sea.

Beyond the sea is another sea: the capital of the mighty North. Its view across the sea is magnificent, from the seashore, on which the monastery of St. Sergius is located [861]. This sea is a section of the famous Belt. It spreads widely, crystal, silver, between the sloping banks. It is closed by Kronstadt, beyond which the infinity of the sea merges with the infinity of the sky.