O night clearer than the day!

O night clearer than the day!
O night more luminous than the sun!
O night whiter than the snow!
giving more light than our torches,
sweeter than Paradise!
O night that knows no darkness;
driving away our sleep,
you make us keep watch with the angels.
O night, the terror of demons,
Paschal night, awaited for a year!
The Church’s wedding night
which gives life to the newly baptized
and renders harmless the torpidity of the demon.
Night in which the Heir
brings the heirs into eternity.

Asterius of Amasea,
Homily 19 on Psalm 5 (early 5th century)

Prayer LXXXII…

The unbelievers have girded for war against the Lord of heaven and earth — like dry leaves against the mountain wind! As long as the wind is soundless, one hears the rustling of the leaves. But once the wind begins to howl, it will scatter the leaves over the marshes and roadways, and left there, leaf upon leaf, they will perish like rumors and will be blinded with mud.

For an unbeliever feels strong in a crowd and makes noise. In solitude fear and weakness devour him. But when a believer is in a crowd, he shares the weakness of the crowd, while in solitude he shares power with You; therefore solitude is his strength and his song.

Against whom do you wage war, you lunatics? Is it against the One who kindles suns with His thought, and goads His flocks of suns and stars with His staff? Truly, it would be a less ridiculous war for the willows to declare war on the thunder, or for the loach fish to carry out a war against the awesome condors.

You have forged weapons, with which you crush one another, and so you have risen up to battle against Him with the same weaponry. But behold, He can walk over your swords like soft moss. Nor is he intimidated by your fortresses any more than He is by your graves.

You have concocted petty words, with which you insult and humiliate one another, and so you think that with your petty words you will humiliate the One who alone knows what a word is and whence it comes? Indeed, He created your vocal cords in your throat, and expanded your lungs beneath those cords, and cut open your mouth and attached your tongue in your mouth. Truly, it would be less ridiculous for a shepherd’s flute in a shop to rebel against its master craftsman, or for the strings on a harp to rebel against the hand that plucks them.

You have declared war not against God but against your­selves, and God watches your suicide with compassion. Dry leaves are declaring war on wheels of iron!

The more seriously you war against Him, the more unimpededly is He drawn out of you. The Lord withdraws His strength out of you, as well as His beauty, His health, His wisdom and His blessedness. This is the way the Most High Lord wars with His adversaries.

What remains of you, embattled battlers, once the Lord has drawn out from you what is His? Does anything remain other than weakness, ugliness, sickness, madness and wretchedness? The Lord will not take from you anything of what is yours. And what is yours is weakness. And once He takes away His power, which you are abusing, He will leave you with your own sepulchral weakness, which can be neither used nor abused.

The Lord will pull His health out of you, and your blood will be transformed into sweat, and your odor will be pleasing to worms, an odor that will cause cities to close their gates.

The Lord will return His wisdom to Himself, and in your madness you will run through the groves, and quarrel with caves.

The Lord will retract His blessedness and His peace to Himself, and even the springs will be frightened by your anxiety and will flee; and the vines in the hills will wither from your wretchedness, and the earth in the fields will return its fertility back to the earth.

This is the way the Most High Lord wars with His adversaries.

Like a child, He is powerless to do evil. He does not return evil for evil, for He is destitute when it comes to evil. Instead He merely gathers His good gifts and walks off with them, away from the one who gnashes his teeth at Him. And the Lord leaves the unbelievers to be by themselves. And they disintegrate like worm-eaten wood, from which the moisture has evaporated and throughout which worms wend their way for food, as through a deserted home.

Thus does it also happen with a people, that declares war on the Life-Giver.

I have told my people — remember: such is the victory of the Life-Giver, and such is the defeat of the godless.

Prayers by the Lake

~St Nikolai of Zica

the beheading of the forerunner…

SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST

O Saint John, wonderful Baptizer,

Of the Savior, you were the glorious Forerunner,

You, with your purity, touched human souls

And, as an awesome trumpet, from the Jordan resounded

From sleep and idle vices, awakening men,

When the axe was near to the root.

To you I bow, to you I pray:

Every temptation, help me to resist.

Prophet most powerful, to you I bow,

And before you kneel and before you I weep:

From your heart, grant me the strength of a lion,

From your spirit, grant me angelic whiteness.

Grant me your strength that by practice to attain

To God be submissive and to rule over myself,

To baptize by fasting, to purify by all-night vigils,

To sweeten by prayer and heavenly vision,

And to every martyrdom, walk without fear

With your courage and with a strong faith.

O Saint John, God’s chosen one,

And glorious martyr for supreme justice,

You, of whom the godless armies are afraid

To my prayers, do not turn a deaf ear,

But, strengthen me by your prayers,

That as a true candle before the Lord, I stand.

hat tip: The Prologue of Ohrid

Holy Martyr Dimitri, Crown-Prince of Russia…

from the Prologue of Ohrid

The ambitious Boris Godunov treacherously murdered Dimitri at the age of eight in the town of Uglich in the year 1591 A.D. After his death, Dimitri appeared to a monk and prophesied that a false Dimitri will appear and will cause the death of the murderer Boris Godunov which afterward actually happened. A countless number of miracles occurred at the grave of the slain Crown-Prince. After fifteen years his relics were discovered to be whole and incorrupt. They were translated solemnly to Moscow and interred in the church of the Holy Archangel Michael.

HYMN OF PRAISE

THE HOLY MARTYR DIMITRI, CROWN-PRINCE

Dimitri, a small child, a great saint became,

And bloody Godunov the great, forever remained cursed.

Craving for power, the ambitious one can never be satisfied,

In both worlds, that is fire; fire unquenchable.

From Boris’ goblet, men are poisoned,

But, from the goblet, Boris drank and himself judged.

Down the river of blood, to the throne, Boris sails,

But into the sea of maggots, that river flows.

As from an earthquake, the crown on the criminal trembles,

Of everything frightened, of everything afraid, looks toward the heavens.

Whoever innocent blood sheds, his own let him prepare,

From this, may there not be an exception and there is none.

Craving for power winged horse, wings of wax

While to the height of authority it soars the wings melted!

Then, from the heights to the bottom falls: lower than a vagabond,

And Satan to his own speaks: Behold the hundredth madman!

Dimitri, the young crown-prince innocently suffered,

He, a crown-prince was then and a crown-prince now.

 Translation of his relics commemorated June 3

The shortsighted…

Vitaly Linitsky’s Through the Looking-glass of the Apocalypse (1977)

excerpt Prayer XVII from Prayers by the Lake:

The shortsighted see only this life, and say: “This is the only life there is, and we shall make it immortal by means of our deeds among men.” But I tell them: “If your beginning is like a river, then it must have a source; if it is like a tree, it must have its root, if it is like a beam of light, it must come from some sun.” And again I tell them: “So, you intend to establish your immortality among mortals? Try starting a fire in water!”

But when they look death in the face, they are left speech­less, and torment seizes their heart. When they smell the flesh of their dead brides; when they leave the empty faces of their friends in the grave; when they place their hands on their sons’ chests that have grown cold; when they realize that even kings are not able to buy off death with their crowns, nor heroes with their mighty deeds, nor wise men with their wis­dom–then they feel the icy wind of death breathing down their necks too, and they fall down on their knees and bow their heads over their toppled pride, and pray to You: “Holy Immortal, have mercy on us!”

O All-Holy Trinity, bring Your lantern into my night…

Prayers by the Lake

XCIV

In the valley of tears You brought dead bones to life, O Divine Son.[1]

Let the prophet rejoice, for You fulfilled his prophecy.

All the strength, all the beauty, and all the wisdom, for which the whole of mankind has been yearning from the beginning, is found in You, the Ultimate Man.

All the food of life and all the drink of life, by means of which the living have been living from one end of time to the other, are found in You, the Ultimate Man.

Through You the Triradiate Ray dared to project itself into the darkness of death and the shadow of nonexistence. Beneficence was in that Ray and, like every benefaction, it was abused. Therefore the Ray withdrew, and the darkness of death and the shadow of nonexistence reigned.

Then You came with a new Ray and a new beneficence. And those who accepted You began to shine like newly kindled suns.[2]

But those who did not accept You, remained dead bones in the valley to an even greater degree.

You opened up a bakery for the hungry and a tavern for the thirsty, and You invite all those who hunger and thirst to eat and drink and to be living beings.

Whoever desires life, must nourish himself with life. Whoever surrenders himself to death, nourishes himself with death, and is not found among the living.

You brought God to us in the vale of torments; You brought God to us, not to show Him to us as an image (the dancing of images devours our soul), but as bread for us to eat and thereby come back to life.[3] We nourished ourselves with images and died. Truly, all those things which mortals eat and drink are images, that do not nourish or quench thirst or give life, unless God enters into them.

Let my soul eat God, and she will be crowned with everlasting life.

Let my mind eat God, and it will be crowned with everlasting wisdom.

Let my heart eat God, and it will be crowned with everlasting joy.

Let my body eat God, and it will be resurrected from the dead.

Let all people eat God, and they will return home, they will return to the Ultimate Man.

You have no grave among us. Earth contains only earth. Sepulchers are buried in graves, and remain in them.

O Prince of the Holy Triad and King of all creatures, who at Your word began to breathe and see, nourish me with Your bread, and quench my thirst with Your drink.

Lest my body disintegrate, and my soul box her way through Hades as a fleshless shadow, filled with absurd perceptions, filled with fleshly desires, filled with fright and frightful images.

Lest I lose, O Lord, both bodies: my earthly body, which is closer to perishing than the autumn grass, and my heavenly body, which the spirit is waiting to weave and make ready for eternity.

Lest I lose, O Lord, both spirits: my earthly spirit, which has betrothed itself to death by being wedded to earth, and my heavenly spirit, which I have not received within me to bring its eternity into me.

Lest I lose, O Lord, both lives: my earthly life, which resembles life, and my heavenly life, which is life.

Come closer to me, and closer still, O Heavenly Bread, and do not resist my mouth.

Come closer to me, and closer still, O Heavenly Drink, and do not avoid my lips.

O All-Holy Trinity, bring Your lantern into my night and scare away the stranger, who is blocking me from You.

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1. Cf. Ezek. 37:1-14.
2. Cf. John 1:1-18, Phil. 2:15, Eph. 5:8-14.
3. Cf. John 6:32-59.

on obedience… the first pearl…

Nikolai Bruni’s Candle-bearer in a Convent-1891

Obedience without murmuring, salvation complete,
Among the spiritual, the first pearl; stone most precious.

This pearl, from Eve’s necklace, unraveled,
And after it, all the goods, by God, bestowed.

The devil speaks both then and now: ‘To God, do not listen,
Rather, according to the thoughts of your mind, live only!’

Thus speaks the devil from time immemorial who detested the light,
Thus speaking, the disobedient with his noose he fitted.

Christ came, to the people cried out: the obedient He summoned,
To every call, the disobedient did not respond.

The scene of Paradise from Christ until now, repeats itself,
The obedient to Paradise is raised; the disobedient falls.

To his spiritual father, the true monk is obedient,
The father to the Church, the Church to Christ, her Lord.

Obedience, the reliable path toward salvation is,
Of the spiritual necklace; the first light, the first pearl.

by St Nikolai Velimirovic

the wonderful receiver of God…

HYMN OF PRAISE:

A PRAYER FOR A SMALL CHILD

O Powerful Lord, have mercy and save,

Do not extinguish this small flame with death!

This child is like the small flame of a candle,

And the winds of the world are terrible, even to the stars;

A weak fire is banked beneath the ashes

And beneath Your hand, the soul of man.

When the water rises and reaches the throat,

And the flame becomes smaller and the fire becomes damp,

O Lord, save, have mercy and alleviate!

Thus, David the Prophet, prayed to You

Even though he was a huge torch.

And a weak child at the base of heaven

And from sinful thoughts his head began to ache.

Every wind of malice weakened him.

It would be extinguished quickly from the tumultuous winds,

If you do not save, O Helper, hurry,

O Lord, have mercy and save us even now,

And this small flame do not extinguish with death!

Through the prayers, O God, of Your favorite Elder,

Holy Saint Simeon, the wonderful receiver of God.

to the Creator…

Hymn of Praise:

TO THE CREATOR

With my soul, I bow before You, O Infinite Creator,

When I speak Your Name, I belittle You,

And, with my every thought, I belittle You with mine -

What is the mind able to think before the open sea of Your spaciousness?

What can the tongue say, when it must remain silent

Before Your awesome mountains and chasms?

Before Your immeasurable height and width,

Before Your straight places, slopes, depths and distance

And closeness, O God; O yes, even closeness!

And still, more miraculous, Your humble lowliness!

You, as a man, lowered Yourself into our lowliness,

Lowered and constrained Yourself into a mortal valley,

That You raise the valley to the heavenly firmament,

And worn-out creation to turn into new.

Of all the characteristics, Your lowliness

Halts my thought, You bind my lips!

What can I think, what can I say

About the hungry, thirsty and crucified God?

What can I say to You, the richest One,

That, because of me, You became the poorest One?

Let the tongue keep silent; let the tears speak;

Save, with Your mercy, what Your thought created.

hat tip: The Prologue of Ohrid

Blot out, O Lord, all my memories except one…

Nikolai Yaroshenko’s The Funeral of the Firstborn-1893

Prayer XXX

Blot out, O Lord, all my memories–except one. For memories make me old and feeble. Memories ruin the present day. They weigh down the present day with the past and weaken my hope in the future, for in legions they whisper in my ear: “There will only be what has already been.”

But I do not wish for there to be only what has been. I do not wish and You do not wish, O Lord, for the future to be the past repeated. Let things happen that have never appeared before. The sun would not be worth much, if it only watched repetitions.

Worn paths mislead a wayfarer. Earth has walked over the earth a long time. Earthly walkways have become boring, for they have been traveled again and again from generation to generation throughout all time. Blot out, O Lord, all my memories except one.

Just one memory do I ask You not to blot out, but to strengthen in me. Do not blot out but strengthen in my con­sciousness the memory of the glory that I had when I was en­tirely with You and entirely in You, before time and temporal illusions.

When I, too, was a harmonious trinity in holy unity, just as You are from eternity to eternity.

When the soul within me was also in friendship with consciousness and life.

When my soul also was a virginal womb, and my consciousness was wisdom in virginity, and my life was spiritual power and holiness.

When I, too, was all light, and when there was no darkness within me.

When I, too, was bliss and peace, and when there were no torments of imbalance within me.

When I also knew You, even as You know me, and when I was not mingled with darkness.

When I, too, had no boundaries, no neighbors, no partitions between “me” and “you.”

Do not blot out this memory, my Father, but strengthen it. Even if it reveals to me the abyss along which I am journeying in humbleness and nothingness.

Even if it separates me from friends and pleasantries, and demolishes all the barriers between Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow.1

Even if it leads me outside of myself, and makes me seem mad in the eyes of my fellow wayfarers.

In truth, no companionship pleases me except Yours, and no memory pleases me except the memory of You.

O my Merciful Father, blot out all my memories except one alone.

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1. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Heb. 13:8).

Prayers by the Lake by St Nikolai Velimirovic