The Fire of Love

 

The Fire of Love

A brother asked an old man, “Father, what is love?” The elder answered, “To cease living for yourself.” For many call desire love when they merely seek consolation, pleasure, affection or praise from another. Such love remains chained to the passions. When what it desires is withheld, tenderness becomes anger and affection becomes resentment. Thus temptation reveals whether we loved the person or only what we received from him.

Desire was planted in the soul that man might long for God. But through the fall it became scattered among created things, and the heart began seeking from them what only the Creator can give. Therefore the ascetic does not destroy desire; he purifies it. Through fasting, vigil, silence, obedience and prayer, he gathers the scattered powers of the soul and turns them again toward God. Yet even asceticism can become food for pride. A man may fast from bread while feeding upon praise, or keep vigil while judging his brother. Better the man who sees his poverty than the man who boasts secretly of his virtue.

The brother asked, “How shall I know whether my love is pure?” The elder replied, “See what happens when it is wounded.” If kindness demands gratitude, it is commerce. If friendship survives only agreement, it is self-love. If service desires witnesses, it is vainglory. If another man's praise causes sorrow within you, envy still inhabits the heart. The passions hide themselves beneath beautiful names, but contradiction tears away their garments.

True love begins when the brother ceases to be useful to us and becomes precious before God. The hungry man then becomes our concern; the sorrow of another disturbs our comfort; and another man's fall produces tears rather than judgment. Do not say that you love the poor while guarding everything you possess. Do not praise mercy while avoiding the troublesome. The demons are not frightened by men who speak about virtue, but by those who practise it.

The brother asked, “What is perfect love?” The elder answered, “To love without demanding to be loved.” Divine love blesses without seeking repayment, serves without keeping accounts, forgives without proclaiming its forgiveness, and suffers injury without allowing hatred to enter the heart. It does not call evil good, yet neither does it use another man's evil as permission to become evil itself.

When someone troubles you, do not immediately accuse him. His presence may have uncovered what was already hidden within you. The insult reveals pride; another man's honour reveals envy; contradiction reveals self-will; injury reveals whether forgiveness lives only upon the tongue. The difficult brother is often an unwilling physician who touches the concealed wound.

If you cannot love someone, begin with obedience rather than feeling. Do not speak evil of him. Do not rehearse imaginary arguments against him. Pray for him secretly. Refuse to rejoice at his humiliation. When remembrance of the injury returns, forgive again. A man may sit silently in his cell while murdering his brother a hundred times in his thoughts. Therefore guard the heart, for the hidden warfare is fought there.

Do not seek visions, sweetness or extraordinary experiences. Seek repentance. Consolations come and depart, but faithfulness must remain. If prayer becomes dry, continue praying. If darkness comes, endure it. If sweetness comes, give thanks and distrust yourself. The man who seeks spiritual sensations may become as enslaved to them as another is enslaved to bodily pleasure.

The brother said, “Father, I have none of this love.” The elder answered, “Then you have begun to see yourself.”

“And what must I do?”

“Guard your tongue. Accuse yourself. Forgive quickly. Hide your good works. Distrust flattering thoughts. Remember death. Call continually upon Christ. And when you fall, rise.”

“How long must I do this?”

“Until the grave.”

Then the elder said, “Do not labour to become a man who speaks beautifully about love. Labour until hatred, pride and self-will are burned from the heart. For when the soul ceases demanding that everything serve itself, it begins to discover God everywhere. Then desire becomes longing for Him, mercy becomes natural, and the brother becomes precious because he bears the image of the Creator.

“This is love: not words upon the tongue, but the death of the old man within us. And when self-love has been consumed, the heart becomes silent before God.

“Then love no longer speaks of itself.

“It burns.”