Homily 4. On the Fear of God #
Abba Dorofei
Saint John says in his Catholic Epistles: “Perfect love casteth out fear” (1 John 4:18). What does the holy Apostle wish to tell us by this? Of what love does he speak to us, and of what fear? For the prophet David says in the Psalm: “O fear the Lord, all ye His saints” (Psalm 33:10), and we find many other similar sayings in the Divine Scriptures. So then, if even the saints, who love the Lord so greatly, fear Him, how then does Saint John say: “Perfect love casteth out fear”?
The Saint wishes to show us by this that there are two kinds of fear: one is the initial kind, and the other is the perfect kind. The first belongs, so to speak, to those who are only beginning to be devout, while the second is the fear of the saints, who have attained the measure of perfect love. For example, someone who does the will of God out of fear of punishment, as we said, is still a beginner, for he does not do good for the sake of good itself, but from fear of chastisement. But another fulfills the will of God out of love for God, loving Him precisely in order to please Him. This one knows wherein lies true good; he has come to know what it means to be with God. He it is who has the true love that the Saint calls perfect. And this love leads him to perfect fear, for such a one fears God and fulfills His will, not from fear of punishment, not in order to avoid torment, but because—having, as we said, tasted the very sweetness of being with God—he fears to fall away from it, fears to lose it. And this perfect fear, born of that love, casts out the initial fear. That is why the Apostle says: “Perfect love casteth out fear.”
However, it is impossible to attain perfect fear except through initial fear. For, as Basil the Great says, we can please God in three ways: either we seek to please Him out of fear of punishment—and then we are in the state of a slave; or, seeking a reward, we fulfill God’s commandments for our own benefit—and thus we are like hired servants; or, we do good for the sake of good itself—and then we are in the state of a son. For a son, when he comes to full age and understanding, fulfills the will of his father not because he fears being punished, nor in order to receive a reward from him, but precisely because he loves him and shows proper filial reverence, being confident that all the father possesses is also his. Such a one is deemed worthy to hear: “Thou art no more a servant, but a son… and an heir of God through Jesus Christ” (Galatians 4:7). Such a man no longer fears God with that initial fear, as we said, but loves Him—as Saint Anthony also says: “I no longer fear God, but I love Him.”
And the Lord, when He said to Abraham—after Abraham had brought his son to offer him in sacrifice: “Now I know that thou fearest God” (Genesis 22:12)—meant thereby that perfect fear which is born of love. For otherwise, how could He have said: “Now I know”, when Abraham had already done so much in obedience to God—leaving all that was his and settling in a foreign land among a people who served idols and where there was no trace of true worship—and on top of all that, God laid upon him the dreadful trial of sacrificing his son? And after this He said to him: “Now I know that thou fearest God.” Clearly, He was speaking of the perfect fear proper to saints—those who no longer fulfill God’s will out of fear of torment or in hope of reward, but who, loving God—as we have said many times—fear to do anything contrary to the will of the One they love. This is why the Apostle says: “Love casteth out fear,” for they no longer act from fear but are afraid because they love. This is the essence of perfect fear.
But it is impossible (as we said above) to attain perfect fear unless one first acquires initial fear. For it is written: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 1:7), and again it is written: “The fear of God is the beginning and the end” (Sirach 1:15, 18). The beginning refers to the initial fear, and after it follows the perfect fear of the saints. The initial fear is suited to our soul’s early state. It keeps the soul from every evil, like polish protects copper, for it is written: “By the fear of the Lord everyone departs from evil” (Proverbs 15:27).
So then, if someone avoids evil from fear of punishment, like a slave who fears his master, he will gradually come to do good willingly, and little by little will begin, like a hired servant, to hope for some recompense for his good works. For when he constantly flees evil, as we said, out of fear, like a slave, and does good in hope of reward, like a hired servant—then, through God’s grace, remaining in what is good and drawing near to God in proportion to that good—he will begin to taste the goodness and understand what true good is, and no longer wish to be separated from it. For who shall separate such a man from the love of Christ?—as the Apostle said (Romans 8:35).
Then does he attain to the dignity of a son, and loves the good for the sake of the good itself, and fears—because he loves. This is that great and perfect fear. Therefore also the Prophet, teaching us to distinguish one fear from another, said: “Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord. What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good?” (Psalm 33:12–13). Take note of every word of the Prophet, how each utterance has its own force. First he says, “Come unto me,” calling us to virtue, and then he adds, “children.” The saints call “children” those who, by their words, turn from sin to virtue—as the Apostle also says: “My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you” (Galatians 4:19). And having thus summoned us and prepared us for conversion, the Prophet says: “I will teach you the fear of the Lord.”
Do you see the boldness of the Saint? We, when we wish to speak something good, always say: “Would you like that we speak with you a little about the fear of God, or about some other virtue?” But the holy Prophet speaks not thus, but with boldness says: “Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord. What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good?” Then, as if hearing someone reply, “I do wish this—teach me how to live and to see good days,” he instructs, saying: “Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile” (Psalm 33:14). Thus he first cuts off the doing of evil by the fear of God.
To keep one’s tongue from evil means not to wound the conscience of one’s neighbor by anything, not to speak evil, not to provoke. And “let thy lips speak no guile” means not to deceive thy neighbor.
Then the Prophet adds: “Depart from evil.” First he spoke of certain specific sins—slander, deceit—and then he speaks more broadly of all evil. “Depart from evil”—that is, avoid all evil in general, flee from every deed that leads to sin. Again, having said this, he does not stop there, but adds: “and do good.” For it happens that some do no evil, but neither do they do good; some do not harm, but also show no mercy; some do not hate, but also do not love. Thus the Prophet rightly says: “Depart from evil, and do good” (Psalm 33:15). Here he shows us that gradual progress in the three states of the soul, which we mentioned earlier. By the fear of God he teaches to turn away from evil, and then commands us to begin doing good. For when one is granted to be freed from evil and has withdrawn from it, then he naturally begins to do good, being guided by the saints.
And having spoken so fittingly and in such order, he continues: “Seek peace, and pursue it.” He does not merely say “seek,” but “pursue”—strive earnestly to attain it. Pay close attention with your mind to this saying, and take note of the precision with which the Saint speaks. When someone is granted to turn from evil and then strives, with God’s help, to do good, immediately the enemy’s assaults rise up against him, and he labors, struggles, is afflicted—not only fearing to fall again into evil, as we said of the slave, but also hoping, as was mentioned, for a reward for doing good, like a hired servant. And so, suffering assaults from the enemy, struggling and resisting him, he does good—but with much sorrow, with great toil. But when he receives help from God and acquires some experience in doing good, then he perceives rest, then he tastes peace, then he knows what is the grief of warfare and what is the joy and gladness of peace. And then he begins to seek peace and to pursue it earnestly, that he may attain it, make it his own, and establish it within himself.
What could be more blessed than the soul that is deemed worthy to reach such a measure of spiritual maturity? Such a one, as we have said many times, dwells in the dignity of a son; for truly, “Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the sons of God” (Matthew 5:9). Who could henceforth urge such a soul to do good for any other reason than the delight it finds in the good itself? Who can know this joy, except the one who has experienced it? Then, as we have already said more than once, such a one comes to know the perfect fear.
Now we have heard what the perfect fear of the saints consists in, and what the initial fear is, which pertains to the condition of our soul, and how man begins and to what he attains through the fear of God. Now we also desire to know how the fear of God comes to dwell in us, and what causes us to fall away from the fear of God.
The Fathers have said that a man acquires the fear of God if he keeps in mind death and the torments (of hell); if every evening he examines how he spent the day, and every morning how the night passed; if he avoids bold familiarity in his conduct; and, finally, if he lives in close fellowship with a man who fears God. For it is said that a brother once asked a certain elder: “What should I do, Father, to learn the fear of God?” The elder answered him: “Go, live with a man who fears God, and by the very fact that he fears God, he will teach you to fear God as well.”
But we drive away the fear of God from ourselves when we do the opposite: when we have no remembrance of death, no remembrance of the torments; when we do not pay attention to ourselves or examine how we spend our time, but live carelessly, interacting with people who themselves have no fear of God, and when we do not guard ourselves from boldness. This last one is the worst of all—it is complete ruin. For nothing so drives the fear of God from the soul as does boldness. Thus, when they asked Abba Agathon about boldness, he said: “It is like a strong burning wind: when it blows, everyone flees from it, and it ruins every fruit on the trees”.
Do you see, brother, the power of this passion? Do you see how destructive it is? And when he was asked again whether boldness is really so harmful, he replied: “There is no passion more harmful than boldness, for it is the mother of all passions.” He spoke very well and wisely in saying that boldness is the mother of all passions, for it drives the fear of God from the soul. For if “by the fear of the Lord every man turns away from evil” (Proverbs 15:27), then certainly, where there is no fear of God, there every passion abounds. May God deliver our souls from the all-destroying passion of boldness.
Boldness manifests in many forms: one can be bold with words, with touch, with one’s gaze. Through boldness, one may fall into idle talk, speak of worldly things, say things to amuse, and incite others to improper laughter. Boldness is also when someone touches another without need, lifts a hand against someone in jest, pushes someone, snatches something from his hand, or gazes at someone shamelessly. All of this stems from boldness; all of this arises from the absence of the fear of God in the soul—and from this, little by little, a man falls into complete heedlessness.
Therefore, when God gave the commandments of the Law, He said: “Command the children of Israel that they be reverent” (cf. Leviticus 15:31), for without reverence and shame a person does not honor even God Himself, nor does he keep a single commandment. This is why there is nothing more harmful than boldness; this is why it is the mother of all passions—because it drives out reverence, expels the fear of God, and begets neglect. And because we are bold with one another and do not feel shame before one another, it happens that we slander and offend each other. Sometimes one of us sees something unprofitable and, rather than turning away, stores it in his heart and passes it on to another brother—not only corrupting himself, but harming his brother as well, pouring evil poison into his heart. And often it happens that the mind of that brother was occupied with prayer or some other good work, and this one comes along and draws him into idle chatter, depriving him not only of benefit but also casting him into temptation. And there is nothing more grievous, nothing more destructive, than to harm not only oneself but also one’s neighbor.
Therefore, it is good for us, brethren, to have reverence, to fear harming ourselves and others, to honor one another, and even to be wary of looking one another in the face—for this too, as one of the elders said, is a form of boldness. And if someone happens to see his brother sinning, he must not despise him or remain silent and allow him to perish; neither should he rebuke him harshly or speak evil of him. Rather, with compassion and the fear of God, he should speak to someone who can correct him—or he himself, if he has seen it, should speak to the brother with love and humility, saying: “Forgive me, my brother, but if I’m not mistaken, we are not doing well in this.” And if the brother does not listen, speak to another who has his trust, or speak to his elder or abba, depending on the gravity of the sin, so that they may correct him—and afterward, be at peace. But speak, as we said, with the purpose of correcting your brother, not out of idle talk or malice, not to reproach him, nor from a desire to shame or condemn him, nor under the pretense of correcting him while inwardly harboring something of the above. For truly, even if one reports the matter to his abba, but not for the correction of his brother or for the avoidance of personal harm, then it is sin—for it is slander. Let him examine his heart to see whether it harbors any passionate movement, and if it does, then let him not speak.
If, however, upon examining himself attentively, he sees that he wishes to speak out of compassion and for the sake of benefit, yet inwardly is troubled by a passionate thought, let him speak to his abba with humility, both about himself and about his brother, saying: “My conscience bears witness that I wish to speak for the correction of my brother, but I feel that I have within me some mixed thought—I do not know whether it is because I once had some unpleasantness with this brother, or whether it is a temptation hindering me from speaking about him in order that he not be corrected.” And then the abba will tell him whether he should speak or not.
Sometimes a person speaks not for the benefit of his brother, but out of fear of personal harm—not because he remembers any evil done, but simply recounting things in idle talk. But to what end is such slander? Often the brother finds out that something was said about him, and is disturbed by it—bringing sorrow and even greater harm. But when someone speaks, as we said, solely for the benefit of his brother, God will not permit confusion, sorrow, or harm to result.
So then, strive, as we have said, to restrain your tongue so as not to speak anything evil of your neighbor and to avoid scandalizing anyone—whether by word, deed, glance, or any other means. And be not quick to anger, so that when one of you hears from his brother an unpleasant word, he does not immediately fall into wrath, nor respond with insolence, nor remain resentful toward him. This is unbefitting for those who wish to be saved, unbefitting for those who strive (for salvation). Acquire the fear of God, and greet one another with reverence, each bowing his head before his brother, as we have said. Let each one humble himself before God and before his brother, and renounce his own will. Truly, it is good if someone, even while doing something good, prefers his brother and yields to him; such a one shall receive great benefit over the one to whom he yields.
I do not know whether I have ever done anything good, but if God has covered me, I know it is because I have never counted myself better than my brother, but always considered my brother greater than myself.
When I was still in the monastery of Abba Seridus, it happened that the servant of the elder Abba John, the disciple of Abba Barsanuphius, fell ill, and the Abba ordered me to serve the Elder. I even kissed the door of his cell from the outside with the same reverence with which someone would venerate the precious Cross—and I was all the more glad to serve him. For who would not wish to be deemed worthy to serve such a holy man? Even his very word was full of wonder. Every day, when I had completed my service and bowed to him to receive his blessing and depart, he always said something to me; the Elder had a custom of repeating four sayings, and as I said, every evening when I was to leave, he would always say to me—above all else—one of these four sayings, beginning thus: “I once said,” for the Elder would always begin any speech by saying: “I once said, brother—may God preserve love—the Fathers have said: by keeping one’s conscience pure in regard to one’s neighbor, humility is born.”
Another evening, he said to me: “I once said, brother—may God preserve love—the Fathers have said: one should never prefer his own will to the will of his brother.” At another time he said again: “I once said, brother—may God preserve love—the Fathers have said: flee from everything human, and you shall be saved.” And again he said: “I once said, brother—may God preserve love—the Fathers have said: ‘Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ’” (Galatians 6:2). Each evening, as I departed, the Elder would always give me one of these four counsels, just as someone gives instructions to a traveler setting out on the road. And so they served as a safeguard for my whole life.
Yet even though I had such love for the holy man and was so eager to serve him, as soon as I learned that one of the brothers was grieved because he wished to serve the Elder, I went to the Abba and begged him, saying: “It would be more fitting for this brother to serve the Saint than for me, if it pleases you, my lord Abba.” But neither the Abba nor the Elder permitted me to do so. Nevertheless, I had done all that I could beforehand to prefer my brother. And after spending nine years there, I do not know that I ever spoke a harsh word to anyone—although I had a position of obedience, lest anyone say I lacked one. And believe me, I remember well how one brother, walking behind me from the infirmary all the way to the church, reviled me—and I walked in front of him, saying not a word. But when the Abba heard about this—though I do not know who told him—and wanted to punish the brother, I went and fell at his feet, saying: “For the Lord’s sake, do not punish him. I am the one who sinned; the brother is not at fault in any way.”
Another also, whether by temptation or from simplicity—God knows which—would urinate over my head every night for quite some time, so that even my bedding was soaked. And some of the other brothers came every day and shook out their mats in front of my cell, and I saw that multitudes of bedbugs would gather in my cell. There were so many I could not kill them, for they were beyond counting from the heat. Then, when I lay down to sleep, they would all climb on me, and I would fall asleep only from extreme exhaustion; and when I awoke, I would find my whole body covered in bites. Yet I never said to any of them, “Don’t do this,” or “Why are you doing this?” Nor do I remember ever speaking a word that might disturb or offend a brother.
Learn also yourselves to “bear one another’s burdens,” learn to revere one another; and if one of you hears from someone a bitter word, or if he suffers something unexpected, let him not immediately lose heart, nor rise up in anger—lest at the moment of struggle and spiritual profit, he prove to have a weak, careless, and unstable heart, unable to endure any provocation—like a melon, which, if a small twig so much as touches it, is instantly bruised and begins to rot.
On the contrary, have a firm heart, have magnanimity: let your love for one another overcome everything that may happen. And if any one of you has an obedience or some task—whether with the gardener, or the cellarer, or the cook, or with any other who serves with you—then let both the one who gives the task and the one who fulfills it first and foremost strive to preserve their inner disposition. Let them never allow themselves to stray from the commandment of God—whether through confusion, stubbornness, partiality, or self-will and self-justification. Whatever the task may be, great or small, it should not be neglected or treated carelessly, for neglect is harmful. But likewise, the task should not be preferred over one’s inner disposition, such that one tries to fulfill the task even at the cost of spiritual harm.
In every task that arises—even if it is most necessary and demands diligence—I do not want you to do anything with quarrels or agitation. Be assured that whatever task you perform—whether great, as you might say, or small—comprises only one-eighth of what is truly sought. But preserving your interior disposition intact, even if it means the task goes unfulfilled, is three and a half eighths.
Do you see the difference? So then, if you are carrying out a task and desire to fulfill it completely and perfectly, strive to complete the task itself—which, as I said, is one-eighth of what is sought—and at the same time preserve your inner state unharmed, which accounts for three and a half eighths. But if, in order to complete your service, you must be drawn away, transgress the commandment, and harm yourself or your neighbor by quarrelling with him, then you must not lose three and a half eighths for the sake of one-eighth. Therefore, if you find someone behaving this way, know that such a person is fulfilling his obedience without understanding—either from vainglory or from seeking to please men—arguing and troubling both himself and his neighbor, just so that others will say no one could outdo him.
O what a strange and terrible kind of “valor”! This is not victory, brethren—it is loss, it is destruction, if someone disputes and offends his brother merely to complete a task. That is like losing three and a half eighths over one-eighth. If the service task goes unfinished, the loss is small; but to quarrel and offend a brother, denying him what he needs, or to prefer the task over God’s commandment—that is great harm. This is the meaning of “one-eighth” and “three and a half eighths.”
So I tell you: if I send one of you on some errand, and he sees that it leads to confusion or some other harm, let him leave the task undone, and never do injury to himself or to another. Let the task remain unfinished, but do not trouble one another—for you would be losing three and a half eighths and suffering great harm, which is clearly unreasonable.
I say this not so that you would immediately fall into faintheartedness, abandon the task, neglect it, or easily cast it aside and wound your conscience under the pretext of avoiding distress. Nor do I say this to encourage disobedience or to let each one say, “I can’t do this, it disturbs me, it troubles me.” For in this way you will never fulfill any obedience, nor will you be able to keep the commandment of God. Rather, strive with all your strength to perform your duties with love, in humility of mind, bowing before one another, honoring one another, and asking each other’s help—for there is nothing stronger than humility of mind.
Yet if someone sees that either he himself or his neighbor is grieved, let him leave the task that is causing scandal. Yield to one another. Do not insist so stubbornly on your own way that harm results. For better, as I have told you a thousand times, that the task not be completed just as you desire, but rather be done as it happens to be, according to need—than for your effort or self-justification, even if it seems noble, to bring offense or sorrow to another and cause you to lose much over little.
Indeed, it often happens that a person loses both the task and his peace, and ends up accomplishing nothing at all—for this is the nature of those who love to argue. From the beginning, all the things we do, we do in order to gain some benefit from them. But what benefit is there if we do not humble ourselves before one another, and instead disturb and offend each other? Do you not know what is written in the Paterikon? “From your neighbor comes life and death.” Always meditate on this, brethren. Follow the words of the holy Elders. Strive with love and the fear of God to seek the benefit of both yourselves and your brothers: thus you will gain benefit from all that happens to you and make progress with the help of God.
May the Lord our God, in His love for mankind, grant us His fear. For it is written: “Fear God, and keep His commandments: for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecclesiastes 12:13). To our God be glory and dominion unto the ages. Amen.