Thou Hast Proved Me, O God and Knowest.....

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Thou Hast Proved Me, O God and Knowest.....

The Life of Hieromonk Vasily

Originally pubished by the Brotherhood of St Cyprian, Moscow, in

cooperation with Optina Monastery, 2002

English translation by a nun of St Xenia Skete, Wildwood, CA

Copyright @ 2009 by Christ the Saviour Brotherhood Publishing

Russian Orthodox believers were shocked when, on Pascha

morning in 1993, three young monks, were brutally murdered

at Optina Monastery. The story of the martyric deaths of

Fr. Vasily, Fr. Ferapont and Fr. Trofim spread throughout the

country, which was then (and still is) undergoing a powerful

resurgence of Orthodox life after years of represion.

In 'Thou hast Proved Me, O God and Knowest...'the reader

comes to know Fr. Vasily through the remembrances of

friends and family and through his own writings. His life

provides insights into the struggles of a convert, because

although baptized in infancy, Fr. Vasily returned to the

Church as an adult. It also sheds light on contemporary

Russian society and monasticism. (From the backcover)

The story of the martyrdom of these three Russian

monastics can be read in the blog MYSTAGOGY here .

This is a very nice post that includes video.

The Writings of Hieromonk Vasily

On Repentance

What do I resemble when desiring to overcome my pride?

I resemble a man trying to move a mountain with his own

hands. I use all my knowledge and apply all my strength.

I can see that my desire is unattainable-the mountain

remains unmovable, but I do not give up my labors. I can

see the futility of my efforts. I cry over my helplessness,

lament over the imposibility of fulfilling my intention.

Despondency clouds the mind, sloth binds the body, and

hopelessness wounds the heart. "What is it all for?" these

passions ask me, "No one needs your labor." And I reply,

"It is needed for God Himself is helping me in it!"

Why do the same words, which yesterday I did not even

notice, today astound me by their magnitude and wisdom,

so much so that I want to hold them forever in my heart? It

is because of the inconstancy of my heart. Yesterday it was

like ice, and therefore everything sophisticated and austere

made it ecstatic, while today it is like melting snow, that

rejoices in light and warmth. What takes place in the depth

of my heart where neither my sight nor my mind penetrates?

There, like the sun with its sunrises and sunsets, repentance

is born and dies.

It is frightening to see in yourself a readiness to commit any

of the most onerous sins. This is a bottomless abyss, a hellish

precipice; it is eternal torment and death. Seeing this in

yourself, you must always and unceasingly call out for help

and mercy. I live, and I uphold faithfulness only outwardly,

by God's mercy, but the Lord sees my infirmity and does

not allow circumstances and burdens beyond my strength.

While washing yourself in the bathhouse, think: "I am

preparing my body for burial, washing and anointing it,"

and, "as I wash the dirt from my body, so do Thou also,

O Lord, create in me a clean heart and renew a right spirit

within me" (Ps. 50:10). In this way you will always conquer

the indulgence of your body.

When you judge someone else, you [must] pray thus: after

all, Lord, it is I who have sinned. Forgive me and have

mercy on me!

By the waters of Babylon, there have we sat down and we

wept (Ps. 136:1) The rivers of Babylon flow from my heart-

the rivers of judgement of my brothers, ambition; the rivers

of faintheartedness, fear and dread before various

obediences; rivers of self-pleasing and self-pity; rivers of

love of glory and anger, despondency, laziness, sadness;

the rivers of all impurity, blasphemy, faithlessness, cunning,

and uncleanness. I sit by my heart and weep over the

endless flow of these rivers. Underground abysses feed

these rivers, and the rivers of my passions feed the

bottomless gulf of my sinful heart.

Lord! It is an abyss, the abyss of hell. In it there is no

support, no comfort. All is clamor, all is wickedness, all

is emptyness. God, in Thy name save me and give me

Thy hand, as Thou didst to Peter.

Don't you see how daily you add sin to sin? Why do you

return every day to the slimy excrement of your passions

and vices?

Don't you see how everything you do reproaches you, your

ignorance, impurity of mind and heart, your imperfection?

Everything you have-your deeds, thoughts and feelings-are

detrimental, flawed, mixed with vice and impurity; all is

impoverished and orphaned.

Don't you see how the passions surround you and play with

you, handing you around to each other? Don't you see how

they leave you alone for a time and, standing a little

distance away, watch how you, a weak person give yourself

over to vainglory, forgetfulness, carelessness? They laugh,

because one touch from them is enough to destroy all your

peace and quiet and make it disapear; they laugh, because

you are their inheritance, their slave, even a slave who

thinks himself free. The sight of a slave with such high

self-opinion, considering himself to be a master, gives

them particular pleasure. Do you see your sin-flowing

heart? How it slanders your brothers, all people, the entire

world, night and day?

Heal me, Lord! Seal the flow of impurity, sin and vice.

Create a clean heart in me, O God, and renew a right spirit

within me (Ps. 50:10). Because of my deeds I deserve

eternal torments, but the Lord secretly nourishes a hope in

my soul for His mercy. Otherwise it would be beyond my

strength for me to live.

St Poemen the Great said, "Believe me, children, wherever

Satan is, there will I be". He did not only think this way,

he felt it.  

The Lord allows you to see your heart as it slanders the

brothers-the Lord, and the whole world, day and night.

Then you see all the imposibility of correcting yourself,

the endlessness of your fall, the abyss of hell. Then you

quite admit that wherever Satan is, there will you be.

This is an awareness, a thought. But for St Poemen the

Great, it was a feeling. The difference is like night and

day. Therefore you only lament over your sinfulness,

while St Poemen the Great pours forth endless tears.

His soul felt the reality of the torments of hell and knew

them.

On Love

We need to love everyone as we love ourselves, and be

ready for death at any hour.

But another thing is possible: to love your neighbour as

yourself, to pray for him as for yourself; thus, seeing that

the sins of your neighbour are your sins, you descend into

hell with these sins for the sake of your neighbour's

salvation.

"Lord, Thou gavest me love and changed everything for me,

and now I cannot act in any other way ; I can only go to

torments for the salvation of my neighbour. I moan, I

weep, I am terrified, but I cannot do anything else, for it

is Thy love which leads me, and I do not want to part with

it; in it I gain hope of salvation, and seeing it within me,

I do not despair utterly".

Selections from pages 140 to 149.