THE INWARD MAN TO HUMILITY
have verified by experience that I do not love God, that I have no religious belief, and
that I am filled with pride and sensuality. All this I actually find in myself as a result of
detailed examination of my feelings and conduct, thus:
heartfelt joy. Every thought of God would give me gladness and delight. On the contrary,
I much more often and much more eagerly think about earthly things, and thinking about
God is labor and dryness. If I loved God, then talking with Him in prayer would be my
nourishment and delight and would draw me to unbroken communion with Him. But, on
the contrary, I not only find no delight in prayer, but even find it an effort. I struggle with
reluctance, I am enfeebled by sloth, and am ready to occupy myself eagerly with any
unimportant trifle, if only it shortens prayer and keeps me from it. My time slips away
unnoticed in futile occupations, but when I am occupied with God, when I put myself
into His presence every hour seems like a year. If one person loves another, he thinks of
him throughout the day without ceasing, he pictures him to himself, he cares for him, and
in all circumstances his beloved friend is never out of his thoughts. But I, throughout the
day, scarcely set aside even a single hour in which to sink deep down into meditation
upon God, to inflame my heart with love of Him, while I eagerly give up twenty-three
hours as fervent offerings to the idols of my passions. I am forward in talk about
frivolous matters and things which degrade the spirit; that gives me pleasure. But in the
consideration of God I am dry, bored and lazy. Even if I am unwillingly drawn by others
into spiritual conversation, I try to shift the subject quickly to one which pleases my
desires. I am tirelessly curious about novelties, about civic affairs and political events; I
eagerly seek the satisfaction of my love of knowledge in science and art, and in ways of
getting things I want to possess. But the study of the Law of God, the knowledge of God
and of religion, make little impression on me, and satisfy no hunger of my soul. I regard
these things not only as a non-essential occupation for a Christian, but in a casual way as
a sort of side-issue with which I should perhaps occupy my spare time, at odd moments.
To put it shortly, if love for God is recognized by the keeping of His commandments (If
ye love Me, keep My commandments, says our Lord Jesus Christ), and I not only do not
keep them, but even make little attempt to do so, then in absolute truth the conclusion
follows that I do not love God. That is what Basil the Great says: 'The proof that a man
does not love God and His Christ lies in the fact that he does not keep His
commandments'.
down my life for his sake (according to the Gospel), but I do not even sacrifice my
happiness, well-being and peace for the good of my neighbor. If I did love him as myself,
as the Gospel bids, his misfortunes would distress me also, his happiness would bring