Tuesday. [Rom. 10:11-11:2; Matt. 11:16-20]

   The Lord says that we, not heading the Gospels, are like those to whom merry songs are sung, but they do not dance; sad songs are sung, and they do not cry. You cannot do anything with them. We are promised the heavenly Kingdom, most bright and joyous, but we are unmoved, as if they were not speaking to us. We are threatened with impartial judgment and unending torments, but we are not alarmed; it is as if we do not hear. Downtrodden, we have lost all feeling of true self-preservation. We move as ones being led directly to destruction, and haven’t a care for our destiny. We have lost heart, given ourselves over to carelessness—what will be, will be! Look at our state! Isn’t this why suicides are so frequent? It is the fruit of modern teachings and views on man and his [in]significance! There is progress for you! There is enlightenment! It would be better to be totally ignorant, but save your soul with fear of God, than, having attained the title of an enlightened person, to perish unto the ages, never thinking your entire life about what will happen after death. Not a single jot shall pass from the word of God, which describes both the heavenly kingdom and hell—all will be as it is written. Take this to heart, everyone, as something which touches you personally; and take care for yourself, with all your strength, and as long as time remains.

Monday. [Rom. 9:18-33; Matt. 11:2-15]

   The Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force. The kingdom suffereth violence—that is, it is attained with violence, with labour, force, and difficult spiritual struggles; therefore only those who lead a labor-filled ascetic life attain it. This is how comfort of every sort is renounced along the path to the kingdom. Pleasures of all types distance us from the kingdom; but these days we have concern only for pleasures, sometimes emotional, but more often fleshly: to eat, drink, have fun, make merry and luxuriate in everything. We have said to the kingdom, “I beg you to excuse me,” though there is a feast in the kingdom—a royal feast, one so sumptuous that we could not even conceive of it, because we do not have the taste for it. What there is considered sweet, to us is bitter; what there is pleasant, for us is repulsive, what there gladdens, for us is a burden—we have gone totally separate ways. And the kingdom, together with the violent who take it by force, withdraws from us. We are glad, even ready to drive them away more quickly, indeed we already have started talking about it; but the evil one does not manage to arrange this.