Kapusta
21st February 2006, 05:48 PM
I have seen a number of threads dealing with confession.....
Thought I'd post some stuff you may have read here or there....
This one's from "The Pilgrim continues his way."
______________________________________________
During the week that I was preparing for my confession, I thought about making as detailed a confession as possible. I began to reflect on my youth and to remember all my sins in detail, so as not to forget anything. I wrote down everything I remembered, down to the smallest details, and ended up with a long list. I had heard that about four and a half miles from Kiev, in the Kitayev Hermitage, there was a spiritual father who lived an ascetic life and was extremely wise and prudent. Whoever went to see him was always deeply moved, and they returned with spiritual guidance for their salvation and a spiritually enlightened soul.
I was overjoyed by this and immediately went to see him. After speaking and consulting with him, I gave him my list to look at. He read it, and then he said to me, "You, kind brother, have written many empty words. Listen to me: (1) You should not confess again those sins of which you have already repented and have been absolved, and which you have not repeated since. Otherwise, this shows a lack of trust in the power of the sacrament of Confession; (2) You should not mention others who are connected with your sins, but accuse only yourself; (3) The Holy Fathers forbid confessing sins in too much detail and with insinuations-they should be confessed in general, lest too much personal scrutiny lead both you and the confessor into temptation; (4) You have come to repent, but you are not repentant for not knowing how to repent - that is, you offer repentance in a cold and careless manner; (5) You did list all the trivial things, but you over- looked that which is most important-you did not admit to the most grievous sins. You did not acknowledge or write down the fact that you do not love God, that you despise your neighbour, that you do not believe in the words of God in Scripture, and that you are filled with pride and ambition. The entire abyss of evil and all our spiritual corruption re- side in these four sins. They are the main roots from which spring all the shoots of our sinful acts."
I was surprised to hear this, and I ventured to say, "Forgive me, Venerable Father, but how is it possible not to love God, our Creator and Benefactor? What else is there to believe in except God's words in Scripture-they contain all truth and holiness. As for my neighbour, I wish good for each and every one. For that matter, why should I despise them? As for pride, there is nothing I can be proud of-except for my countless sins. There is nothing in me that is praiseworthy. And what can I possibly lust after and covet, what with my poverty and my disability? Of course, if I were educated or rich, then undoubtedly I would be guilty of what you have just said."
"It is unfortunate, kind one, that you understood so little of what I explained to you. Here, to teach you more quickly, I will give you a list that I also follow whenever I go to confession. Read it and you will find clear and precise proof of all that I just told you."
The confessor gave me the list, and I began to read it.
The Confession of the Interior Man That Leads to Humility
By diligently looking into myself and examining the disposition of my soul, I became convinced that I do not love God, that I have no love for my neighbour, that I have no faith in spiritual realities, and that I am filled with pride and ambition. By thoroughly studying my feelings and actions, I actually found all the following in myself:
I do Not love God. For if I did love Him, then I would ceaselessly think of Him with genuine pleasure, and each thought of God would bring me joyous delight. On the contrary, I far more frequently and far more willingly think about earthly matters, while thoughts of God are difficult for me and give rise to inner aridity. If I loved Him, then conversing with Him through prayer would nourish me; it would de- light me and would draw me into unceasing communion with Him. Yet it's quite the reverse-not only do I take no delight in prayer, but I find it difficult to pray. I struggle with reluctance, I am weakened by laziness, and I am ready to be distracted by any insignificant matter, just to shorten my prayers or even to stop praying altogether. When I am occupied with empty activities, time flies unnoticeably; but when I turn my thoughts to God, when I place myself in His presence, each hour seems like a year.
If someone loves another, his thoughts are always with the other, throughout the day-he pictures the other in his mind and is concerned for the other. No matter what he is occupied with, the beloved friend is ever in his thoughts. While I barely set aside even an hour during the day to immerse myself in deep meditation about God and to surrender myself to His burning love. Yet I eagerly spend twenty- three hours offering zealous sacrifices to my impassioned idols! ... Discussions of vain, worldly matters, ignoble subjects for the soul, stimulate and give me pleasure, while thoughts of God leave me arid, bored, and lazy. Even if others unwittingly draw me into discussions about divine matters, I quickly strive to change the subject to matters that flatter my passions. I am tirelessly curious for news, about civil appointments, about political events. I greedily strive to gratify my inquisitive nature about the secular sciences, the arts, acquisition of material things, while religious instruction, learning about God and religion, make no impression on me, they do not nourish my soul. And I consider this not only a nonessential activity for a Christian, but almost a foreign subject, one of secondary consequence, which I must study only at my leisure, in my spare time. In short, if one's love of God is proved by fulfilling His commandments-"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word" [John 14:23], says the Lord Jesus Christ-and not only do I not observe His commandments, I hardly exert myself at all-then in all truth, the only possible conclusion is that I do not love God. ...Saint Basil the Great also confirms this when he says, "The proof that man does not love God and His Christ lies in not keeping His commandments."
I have no love for my neighbour. For not only am I unable to decide to lay down my soul for the good of my neighbour (according to the Gospel), but I won't even sacrifice my honour, happiness and peace for the good of my neighbour. If I loved him as myself, according to the Gospel, then his misfortune would distress me too, and his good fortune would delight me. Yet on the contrary, I am more curious to hear unfortunate accounts about my neighbour, and instead of distress, I feel indifference--or, worse yet, I seem to take pleasure in this. And I do not bear my brother's bad actions in silent love, but am judgmental and publicize them. His well-being, honour, and happiness do not delight me as if they were my own. Instead, they are alien to me and not only do they bring me no joy whatsoever, but in a subtle way, they even generate a kind of envy or contempt.
I have no faith in any spiritual realities. Not in eternal life. Not in the Gospel. If I were firmly convinced and believed steadfastly in an eternal life beyond death, with recompense for how one's life was lived, then I would continuously reflect on this. The very thought of immortality would overawe me, and I would pass through this life as a stranger preparing to return to his homeland.
Yet, on the contrary, I do not even think about eternity, and I see the end of this life as the limit of my existence. A secret thought :, nestles within me: Who knows what happens after death? If I even do say that I believe in eternal life, I do so only in my mind, but my heart is far from being convinced of this, and my actions and endless worries about satisfying my sentient needs clearly prove this. If my heart believed that the Holy Gospel contains the words of God, I would continually study it. I would delight in it and would look upon it with deep reverence. The wisdom, the goodness, and the love concealed therein would bring me great joy. I would delight in studying it day and night, and it would nourish me as if it were my only source of food. And I would genuinely strive to fulfil its commandments, while nothing in this world could ever make me abandon it.
Yet it is quite the reverse. If sometimes I happen to read or to listen to readings from the Scriptures, both of which happen either by necessity or out of curiosity, without even any deep concentration, I experience aridity and boredom. And, as from ordinary reading materials, I gain nothing and feel eager to read something secular instead, which satisfies me more and offers newer and more enticing subjects.
I am filled with pride and sensual self-love. All my actions confirm this: If I see any good in me, I want to display it, or else I brag about it to others, or I admire my own self. Although I am outwardly humble, inside I give myself all the credit for everything and consider myself either superior to others or, at the very least, not any worse than they. If I detect a vice within me, I try to make excuses for it, to justify it as an unavoidable or ingenuous action. I become angry with those who show me no respect and consider them incapable of assessing the worth of others. I am vain about my talents and view any failure as a personal insult. I murmur about and rejoice over the misfortunes of my enemies. If I even strive to do any good, I do so either for praise or for my personal spiritual advantage or social standing. Ina word -I constantly create a personal idol of myself, whom I serve unceasingly, as everywhere I seek sensual satisfaction and nourishment for my wanton passions and lusts. From all the above, I see myself as proud and lustful, lacking in faith, having no love for God, and despising my neighbour. What state could be more sinful? The spirits of darkness are in better shape than I am: Even though they do not love God, despise man, thrive on and are nourished by pride, at least they believe and tremble in the face of that faith. And I? Is there any fate worse than mine? What could possibly be judged and punished more severely than a careless and foolish life, such as I realize I have lived? ...
Thought I'd post some stuff you may have read here or there....
This one's from "The Pilgrim continues his way."
______________________________________________
During the week that I was preparing for my confession, I thought about making as detailed a confession as possible. I began to reflect on my youth and to remember all my sins in detail, so as not to forget anything. I wrote down everything I remembered, down to the smallest details, and ended up with a long list. I had heard that about four and a half miles from Kiev, in the Kitayev Hermitage, there was a spiritual father who lived an ascetic life and was extremely wise and prudent. Whoever went to see him was always deeply moved, and they returned with spiritual guidance for their salvation and a spiritually enlightened soul.
I was overjoyed by this and immediately went to see him. After speaking and consulting with him, I gave him my list to look at. He read it, and then he said to me, "You, kind brother, have written many empty words. Listen to me: (1) You should not confess again those sins of which you have already repented and have been absolved, and which you have not repeated since. Otherwise, this shows a lack of trust in the power of the sacrament of Confession; (2) You should not mention others who are connected with your sins, but accuse only yourself; (3) The Holy Fathers forbid confessing sins in too much detail and with insinuations-they should be confessed in general, lest too much personal scrutiny lead both you and the confessor into temptation; (4) You have come to repent, but you are not repentant for not knowing how to repent - that is, you offer repentance in a cold and careless manner; (5) You did list all the trivial things, but you over- looked that which is most important-you did not admit to the most grievous sins. You did not acknowledge or write down the fact that you do not love God, that you despise your neighbour, that you do not believe in the words of God in Scripture, and that you are filled with pride and ambition. The entire abyss of evil and all our spiritual corruption re- side in these four sins. They are the main roots from which spring all the shoots of our sinful acts."
I was surprised to hear this, and I ventured to say, "Forgive me, Venerable Father, but how is it possible not to love God, our Creator and Benefactor? What else is there to believe in except God's words in Scripture-they contain all truth and holiness. As for my neighbour, I wish good for each and every one. For that matter, why should I despise them? As for pride, there is nothing I can be proud of-except for my countless sins. There is nothing in me that is praiseworthy. And what can I possibly lust after and covet, what with my poverty and my disability? Of course, if I were educated or rich, then undoubtedly I would be guilty of what you have just said."
"It is unfortunate, kind one, that you understood so little of what I explained to you. Here, to teach you more quickly, I will give you a list that I also follow whenever I go to confession. Read it and you will find clear and precise proof of all that I just told you."
The confessor gave me the list, and I began to read it.
The Confession of the Interior Man That Leads to Humility
By diligently looking into myself and examining the disposition of my soul, I became convinced that I do not love God, that I have no love for my neighbour, that I have no faith in spiritual realities, and that I am filled with pride and ambition. By thoroughly studying my feelings and actions, I actually found all the following in myself:
I do Not love God. For if I did love Him, then I would ceaselessly think of Him with genuine pleasure, and each thought of God would bring me joyous delight. On the contrary, I far more frequently and far more willingly think about earthly matters, while thoughts of God are difficult for me and give rise to inner aridity. If I loved Him, then conversing with Him through prayer would nourish me; it would de- light me and would draw me into unceasing communion with Him. Yet it's quite the reverse-not only do I take no delight in prayer, but I find it difficult to pray. I struggle with reluctance, I am weakened by laziness, and I am ready to be distracted by any insignificant matter, just to shorten my prayers or even to stop praying altogether. When I am occupied with empty activities, time flies unnoticeably; but when I turn my thoughts to God, when I place myself in His presence, each hour seems like a year.
If someone loves another, his thoughts are always with the other, throughout the day-he pictures the other in his mind and is concerned for the other. No matter what he is occupied with, the beloved friend is ever in his thoughts. While I barely set aside even an hour during the day to immerse myself in deep meditation about God and to surrender myself to His burning love. Yet I eagerly spend twenty- three hours offering zealous sacrifices to my impassioned idols! ... Discussions of vain, worldly matters, ignoble subjects for the soul, stimulate and give me pleasure, while thoughts of God leave me arid, bored, and lazy. Even if others unwittingly draw me into discussions about divine matters, I quickly strive to change the subject to matters that flatter my passions. I am tirelessly curious for news, about civil appointments, about political events. I greedily strive to gratify my inquisitive nature about the secular sciences, the arts, acquisition of material things, while religious instruction, learning about God and religion, make no impression on me, they do not nourish my soul. And I consider this not only a nonessential activity for a Christian, but almost a foreign subject, one of secondary consequence, which I must study only at my leisure, in my spare time. In short, if one's love of God is proved by fulfilling His commandments-"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word" [John 14:23], says the Lord Jesus Christ-and not only do I not observe His commandments, I hardly exert myself at all-then in all truth, the only possible conclusion is that I do not love God. ...Saint Basil the Great also confirms this when he says, "The proof that man does not love God and His Christ lies in not keeping His commandments."
I have no love for my neighbour. For not only am I unable to decide to lay down my soul for the good of my neighbour (according to the Gospel), but I won't even sacrifice my honour, happiness and peace for the good of my neighbour. If I loved him as myself, according to the Gospel, then his misfortune would distress me too, and his good fortune would delight me. Yet on the contrary, I am more curious to hear unfortunate accounts about my neighbour, and instead of distress, I feel indifference--or, worse yet, I seem to take pleasure in this. And I do not bear my brother's bad actions in silent love, but am judgmental and publicize them. His well-being, honour, and happiness do not delight me as if they were my own. Instead, they are alien to me and not only do they bring me no joy whatsoever, but in a subtle way, they even generate a kind of envy or contempt.
I have no faith in any spiritual realities. Not in eternal life. Not in the Gospel. If I were firmly convinced and believed steadfastly in an eternal life beyond death, with recompense for how one's life was lived, then I would continuously reflect on this. The very thought of immortality would overawe me, and I would pass through this life as a stranger preparing to return to his homeland.
Yet, on the contrary, I do not even think about eternity, and I see the end of this life as the limit of my existence. A secret thought :, nestles within me: Who knows what happens after death? If I even do say that I believe in eternal life, I do so only in my mind, but my heart is far from being convinced of this, and my actions and endless worries about satisfying my sentient needs clearly prove this. If my heart believed that the Holy Gospel contains the words of God, I would continually study it. I would delight in it and would look upon it with deep reverence. The wisdom, the goodness, and the love concealed therein would bring me great joy. I would delight in studying it day and night, and it would nourish me as if it were my only source of food. And I would genuinely strive to fulfil its commandments, while nothing in this world could ever make me abandon it.
Yet it is quite the reverse. If sometimes I happen to read or to listen to readings from the Scriptures, both of which happen either by necessity or out of curiosity, without even any deep concentration, I experience aridity and boredom. And, as from ordinary reading materials, I gain nothing and feel eager to read something secular instead, which satisfies me more and offers newer and more enticing subjects.
I am filled with pride and sensual self-love. All my actions confirm this: If I see any good in me, I want to display it, or else I brag about it to others, or I admire my own self. Although I am outwardly humble, inside I give myself all the credit for everything and consider myself either superior to others or, at the very least, not any worse than they. If I detect a vice within me, I try to make excuses for it, to justify it as an unavoidable or ingenuous action. I become angry with those who show me no respect and consider them incapable of assessing the worth of others. I am vain about my talents and view any failure as a personal insult. I murmur about and rejoice over the misfortunes of my enemies. If I even strive to do any good, I do so either for praise or for my personal spiritual advantage or social standing. Ina word -I constantly create a personal idol of myself, whom I serve unceasingly, as everywhere I seek sensual satisfaction and nourishment for my wanton passions and lusts. From all the above, I see myself as proud and lustful, lacking in faith, having no love for God, and despising my neighbour. What state could be more sinful? The spirits of darkness are in better shape than I am: Even though they do not love God, despise man, thrive on and are nourished by pride, at least they believe and tremble in the face of that faith. And I? Is there any fate worse than mine? What could possibly be judged and punished more severely than a careless and foolish life, such as I realize I have lived? ...