Ninth Sunday After Pentacost. [I Cor. 3:9-17; Matt. 14:22-34]

   The holy apostle Peter, with the Lord’s permission, gets down from the ship and walks on the water; then he yields to the movement of fear and begins to drown. The fact that he decided upon such an unusual act, hoping in the Lord, is nothing deserving reprimand—otherwise the Lord would not have allowed him to do this. The reprimand comes because he did not sustain the original state of his soul. He was filled with inspired hope in the Lord’s ability to do anything, and this gave him the boldness to entrust himself to the waves. Several steps were already made along this new path—it was necessary only to stand more firmly in hope, gazing at the Lord Who is near, and at the experience of walking in His strength. Instead, gave himself over to human thoughts: “The wind is strong, the waves are great, the water is not firm;” and this shook loose and weakened his firmness of faith and hope. Because of this he broke away from the Lord’s hands, and, left to the operation of nature’s laws, began to drown. The Lord rebuked him: O ye of little faith! Why did you doubt? showing that in this lay the entire reason for the misfortune. Behold a lesson for all who undertake something, great or small, with the aim of pleasing the Lord! Keep your first state of faith and hope, from which a great virtue is born—patience in doing good, which serves as the basis for a God-pleasing life. As long as these dispositions are maintained, inspiration for labouring on the path begun does not go away; and obstacles, no matter how great they may be, are not noticed. When these dispositions weaken, the soul is filled with human reasoning about human methods of preserving one’s life and conducting the affairs which one has begun. But since this reasoning always turns out to be powerless, fear of how one should be enters the soul; from this comes wavering—wondering whether or not to continue—and in the end comes a complete return. You must do it this way; if you begin, keep it up—chase away troubling thoughts, and be bold in the Lord, Who is nearby.

Monday. [I Cor. 15:12-19; Matt. 21:18-22]

   The Lord condemned the fig tree to fruitlessness because in appearance it was so covered with leaves that there ought to have been fruit on it; however, none could be found. In applying this to the Christian life, the leaves represent outward works of piety and outward spiritual feats, while the fruits represent inner dispositions. This is a law: the former should proceed from the latter. But out of condescension for our infirmity, the latter should in any case develop together with the former. When the former are strong but the latter are not even budding, a lie of life results, which expresses itself like this: to seem, but not to be. At first this unfortunate state is perhaps not in one’s thoughts, but then it appears unnoticeably and establishes itself as a way of life. When one applies himself excessively to externals and becomes passionately attached to them, his attention toward his heart is suppressed, his spiritual feelings die away, and coldness settles in. At this stage spiritual life freezes, and there remains only an appearance of piety, but no piety. The behaviour is proper on the outside, but inwardly to the contrary. The consequence of this is spiritual fruitlessness–deeds are done, but they are all dead.