Have you heard the saying, “Madness doesn’t go to the mountains”? Well, I’ve heard it too.

My dear friends, welcome to Passages on Piraeus Church Radio, the station that speaks to our souls. I began by telling you about something crazy I heard about—or rather, read online. It was a news story about a man in Russia who was afraid of death. He wanted to find out whether he could endure the feeling and overcome his fear. So what did he decide to do? He asked a friend to bury him alive for one night. He would spend the night in a grave with a bottle of water and a mobile phone, breathing air from above through a small tube. His friend did it.

Apparently quite a few people have tried this. It happened in Russia, and people do it for the experience. Some want to try unusual things in life: cars, parachutes, helicopters, whatever appeals to them. This man chose this strange experience. His friend put him in the grave, buried him, and gave him the bottle and the phone. “We called him that night,” his friend said. “We spoke to him. ‘How are you? How do you feel?’ ‘Fine, thank you. I’m drinking water, I’m breathing, and I’m all right.’” His friend went home to sleep. But when he came back in the morning to dig him out, the man was dead. It had rained, and somehow the tube he was breathing through became blocked. He suffocated. He really died in that grave.

Just think: the man wanted to overcome his fear of death. He wanted to become familiar with it, and look what he ended up doing. That saying came to mind: “Madness doesn’t go to the mountains.” My friend, what have you got yourself into? The newspaper said that others had tried it and come out alive. They described how they felt spending the night in the darkness, and believed the experience had brought them closer to being unafraid of death. That story weighed so heavily on me that I picked up the Gerontikon, the Sayings of the Desert Fathers, to read.

I’m telling you the truth. Yes, Vasilis, thank you. Many thanks to Vasilis Hatzinikolaou, who is with us again today. And thank you to all of you who love him, send messages to his own email address, and enjoy his music and his CDs.

Well, Vasilis, I wanted to calm down a little. So I picked up the Gerontikon and came upon Abba Poemen. Once, it says, Abba Poemen was troubled because his brother was spending time with people he did not approve of. He was upset. He thought, “My brother has fallen in with the wrong crowd. I don’t want him associating with these people. My heart has no peace. I’m disturbed; I’ve lost my peace. I’ll go and ask Abba Ammonas what he thinks.” So he told him: “Father, my brother spends time with people I don’t approve of, and it troubles me.” Saint Ammonas turned to him and said, “Poemen, are you still alive? Are you still...”

“Are you still concerning yourself with things like this? With what this person does and what that person does? Are you watching other people’s lives and letting them disturb you? Go and stay in your cell. Take this thought to heart, and believe it: you have already been in the grave for a year.” Wait a moment, I thought as I read it. I turned away from that upsetting news story, opened the Gerontikon, and here again were stories about graves and tombs. Get into a grave while you’re alive? What is going on? I read it again. “Take it to heart,” he tells him, “that you have already been dead for a year, and you will find peace.” He did not tell him to get into a grave. He told him to imagine that he had died. One saint giving counsel to another: die in your thoughts.

That means imagining you have already been dead for a year, and seeing how it brings you peace. My dear friend, whether this year is 2011, 2012, or 2013, think of the year you are in, go back one year, and say to yourself, “I had already left this world by then.” Now imagine you hear that someone at work is insulting you. What do you say to yourself? “But I died last year.”

If I had died last year, would I be concerned with insults and slander? With what one person says about me, whether people love me or criticize me, whether they can stand me, whether someone... Why be concerned with all that? Do the dead concern themselves with it? There is a kind of dying to such things that leaves the soul alive to other things: alive to love, to communication, to unity, to giving, to warmth...

To forgiveness. These are the places where we let the life in our souls come forth, where we come alive. A wife, for example, will be alive to her husband. She will be alive in how she treats him, as his wife and as a person of tenderness and kindness. But when a problem comes up at home, perhaps a scornful word, something dismissive or belittling, that is when you should remember this. That is when you should call to mind your death—and not even a death still to come. That is what strikes me as unusual in the story of Abba Poemen. He does not say, “You will die.” He says, “Think of yourself as having died a year ago,” and you can let the matter rest. But when someone asks you to help a poor person, don’t say, “Ah, you see, I died a year ago.” No. Then you must be alive. Then you must go.

But suppose someone calls and says, “You know, I was at a dinner, and people were talking about you and criticizing you.” Let it go. Of course, you won’t tell the caller, “I died a year ago.” Say it to yourself. The point is to keep from becoming upset, wounded, or offended. Thinking of death in this way can bring great relief. It can be deeply comforting and freeing. I let these things go. The Apostle Paul says it, and all the saints say it: we must die to certain things in this world.

To certain things, yes, but not to everything. You must not be unresponsive when your child needs your help. You must not be unresponsive when your brother needs to talk through a problem and needs your interest, love, and care—your time and effort, even your sacrifice and a sleepless night. Then you do not say, “You know, I’m dead.” But...

When something sinful strikes at your sense of worth, your dignity, or your honor, shakes your soul, and makes you lose your trust in God, say to yourself, “Why should I care what others say about me in such matters? I’m dead.” That comforted me. I thought, “Look at Abba Poemen!” So I kept reading that part of the Gerontikon to see what else this saint had to say. He seemed such an unusual person to me. I had never heard advice like that before. The saints of the Gerontikon are so authentic, so honest and genuine. They win our hearts because they do not pressure us or force their teaching on us. They simply open the creaking old door of their cell...

Then they say, “Come in if you like, and see how I live. Then go in peace. If something you have seen in my life speaks to you, put it into practice. If you don’t want to, don’t.”

There is no teacher’s hand raised, no finger pointing upward and saying, “You must do this, or you’re lost.” No, my brother. I’m telling you, I love you. There is only one person I know how to push: myself. I won’t push you. You decide what to do and take your own steps. Don’t let yourself be driven by compulsion, as so many people say they are.

I hear this from people. I don’t know why it happens, but it does happen in our lives. “I’ve been under so much pressure,” someone says. People now in their fifties and sixties come to confession and tell you, “I’ve been pushed terribly hard all my life.” By parents, relatives, people in the Church, and teachings. And I wonder, why so much pressure, my friend? Why keep doing this? The Gerontikon loosens that tight necktie choking us and says...

“Relax a little. Undo that button at your neck. It’s choking you, and you can hardly breathe. That is the point. If you can breathe, dress however you like. But if you cannot breathe, shouldn’t your life come first—your breath, your balance, your happiness?”

I liked Abba Poemen, so I read on. It says that when he went to Egypt with his disciples and settled in a place to live... Well...

An older elder already lived there. He had a reputation, was well known, and everyone went to see him. But when Abba Poemen arrived with his disciples, people stopped visiting the older elder. They all went to Abba Poemen instead. He had become the better-known one. His example, his teaching, and his manner drew people to him and warmed their hearts. The older elder was upset. He grew jealous and angry, envied Poemen, and began speaking against him and criticizing him. He thought, “I’ve had a good name here for all these years...”

“And now you come along and draw everyone to yourself.” You might ask, “Did those people belong to him?” That is hardly the point. It is a matter of standing, reputation, ego, and ambition. In the end, we see that this can take hold of any of us. You and I can be in the Church and enjoy having people around us, people we think of as our own, who follow us and always want to hear us. That is ego. It is a human weakness that affects us all. Imagine a child saying to his mother, “Mom, I went to my friend’s house today, and his mother made chicken wings. Yours don’t compare. Hers were the best in the world!” The mother feels jealous. She thinks, “Hold on. Why am I suddenly being put down and pushed aside?”

“I’ve been cooking for you all this time, and now you pay me no attention and go eat someone else’s food!” It’s human. We experience this in every part of life. But beyond the human there is also something divine and holy, and Saint Poemen had it. When Abba Poemen heard that the older elder was upset and speaking against him, he said to his disciples, “My friends, what’s happening here isn’t good.” They replied, “Yes, he’s envious. He isn’t being kind.” “No, no, that’s not what I mean. It isn’t good on our part. What can we do? He doesn’t like us. That’s how he feels; he has the wrong idea about us. But what about us?” “What do you mean? He’s the one with the problem.” “He is. But how can we help him?”

“We can help him change the thought in his mind and heal his heart. How should we answer the envy directed at us? With envy, or with contempt? Should we say, ‘Let him talk. He’s a nasty man who speaks against us’?” Perhaps that’s what I would say. I might dismiss him and think, “Well, he should have been more careful. We’re the ones with more gifts and abilities.” But is that the point? Christ did not speak that way. He said that everyone would know we are His disciples if we have love for one another. Yes, you draw people to you. But do you love those who draw fewer people? Do you remember that you all belong to one body and are called to love one another?

Are you all seeking to glorify Christ, or are you drawing people to yourself? So Abba Poemen said, “What shall we do?” The others asked, “Pray?” “Yes, but something besides prayer. You, cook a good meal—the best you can. And you,” he said to another, “bring a flask of our best wine.” “What’s that for?” “Get the food and the wine ready, and let’s go.” “Where?” “To the elder. All of us.” They would go to the elder who, they had heard, was jealous of them and spoke against them. And what would they do? Eat with him. Win his heart through love. Isn’t that what God wants? His disciples were moved. “What kind of man is our teacher, our elder, our guide?” they thought. That is what it means to be a guide.

He taught his disciples by that suggestion alone. Everything you do can teach. The way you solve your problems shows others how you face life: whether you answer evil with more evil, or with love—love like Christ’s on the Cross, sacrificial love, love with patient endurance and humility. They took the food and wine to the elder’s cell and knocked. His disciple came to the door. “What do you want? Who is it?” “We’ve come with our elder, Abba Poemen, to receive your elder’s blessing.” “Our elder can’t see you. You must leave.” They told him, “Elder, Abba Poemen is here.” “Tell him to go away,” he said. But Abba Poemen said, “That’s all right. Keep asking.” “Please, open the door to us.”

“Please open the door, so we can receive the elder’s blessing. We’ve brought him a gift and would like to see him.” “No, go away. He doesn’t want to see you. He can’t see you now.” The man was angry; his pride had been wounded. The Gerontikon says it was terribly hot. Abba Poemen and his disciples stood under the blazing sun with their food and wine. They waited, knocked, and said, “Elder, please open the door so we can receive your blessing. We love you.” At last the elder opened it. “Come in, come in.” They went inside and ate together.

They said, “Elder, we’ve brought you food and wine. We thought we might sit together and receive your blessing.” When he saw their humility and patient endurance, do you know what happened? He was moved to compunction. That is...

His heart softened. He felt Abba Poemen’s kindness and thoughtfulness. And do you know what he said? “My friends, you’ve won me over. I’d heard that you were good people, different from others, and I was upset because I’m only human. But now I see that you’re a hundred times better than anything I heard. You are wonderful people, fine in character, true Christians. You’ve won me over.” From that day, he became their friend and they were reconciled. That is how you can win someone over. No lofty talk about spirituality while hiding sharp knives behind your back. Food, drink, and human kindness. Begin there, with kindness, and let God be present in the way you treat people.

It is deceitful and hypocritical to use God’s name when I really mean something else—to punish or take revenge in God’s name, while what I’m actually expressing is my own envy, spite, anger, or dislike. That’s why Abba Poemen said, “We’ll go as ordinary people.” Don’t you like that? Abba Poemen won me over. I liked him very much.

And here you are with your own troubles and concerns. I think that if Abba Poemen were alive today, he would want to hear about them. Whether your tooth hurts, your stomach hurts, your children are worrying you, the house is a mess—“Come in, Father, sit down, though the place is dusty”—or you have no money, you wouldn’t feel awkward telling him. He wouldn’t say, “Please, leave all that aside. I want to discuss spiritual things.” Let me tell you something: Abba Poemen wasn’t very fond of that sort of spiritual talk. That’s how I put it, but he said as much himself. Once an elder heard wonderful things about him and thought, “I’ll go and meet this saintly man. Since he’s a saint, I’ll speak to him about holy things.”

By “holy things” he meant the Fathers, theology, lofty ideas, and passages from Holy Scripture. He arrived and asked Abba Poemen’s disciple, “Where is the elder?” “Inside.” “Please tell him I’d like to see him.” Abba Poemen said to let the visiting elder in. The visitor began talking about lofty spiritual matters. Abba Poemen sat silent, unresponsive, as though mute. “Father, you know that passage in the Gospel, that saying of the Fathers, that lofty teaching...” Still Abba Poemen remained silent. The visitor came out disappointed and told the disciple, “I’ve come such a long way, hoping to be edified and talk about spiritual things. I went in to see Abba Poemen...” “Yes, yes, and what did you say? What...”

“Yes? What did the elder say? Did he give you some good counsel?” “He said nothing. He didn’t answer me at all.” “Why do you think that was? Wait here. Don’t leave. I’ll go and ask him,” said the disciple. He went in and asked Abba Poemen, “Elder, why didn’t you speak to the father? He’s very upset out there. He traveled so far to see you.” He added, “You said nothing to him. Why?” Abba Poemen replied, “My child, he belongs among the heights and speaks of lofty things. I belong down here and speak of earthly things. He spoke to me about spiritual matters I know nothing about. If he had spoken about the passions of the soul, about human weakness and the things I live with—my pride, my malice, my love of pleasure, my curiosity, my habit of judging others—I would have spoken to him. I know those things, because I’m like that too.”

“But he was telling me things I don’t know. What he was saying is too lofty for me; I can’t grasp it. We’re on different wavelengths: his is very high, mine very low.” “Oh, that’s why you didn’t speak to him, that’s why you didn’t speak to him. All right, wait here.” The disciple went out and told the visitor, “Father, do you know why Abba Poemen didn’t speak to you? You were speaking to him about very lofty things, and he doesn’t like that. He wants real conversations, and real conversations are about the things you actually live through.” “I didn’t know that. May I go in again?” “Go back in. But don’t speak to him about such things again, or he won’t answer you again.” The visitor went in a second time and asked, “Father, what should I do, then, when I too am overcome by the passions of the soul?” When Abba Poemen heard this, a smile lit up his face, and he said, “Now you’ve done well to come.”

“Come, sit down and let’s talk. I’m glad you came back. Speak to me about these things, and I’ll share whatever I can to help you.” When the visitor left, he said, “My friends, this truly is the right path.” The secret to making progress is to be honest and genuine, with your feet on the ground. Name the things that trouble you. You cannot heal something if you refuse to see it and speak only of lofty ideas.

Someone once came to confession during an important season in the Church’s life, but felt none of its spiritual meaning. What could he do? That was the truth of his experience. It may be Lent, yet someone may be consumed with anxiety about a car loan or poverty at home. That is what he needs to talk about, and that is where he needs God’s help. That is where God’s grace meets your everyday, earthly problem. And that is deeply divine. You cannot say, “The Lord’s Crucifixion overwhelms me,” if those are empty words, while the day before you had a bitter fight at home with your children or with a neighbor over the building expenses, and now you won’t speak to the person across the hall. Then you go to a discussion at church and say, “I experience the Lord; I rise to lofty heights in prayer,” while still judging others. Come now, let’s be a little more truthful.

Abba Poemen could have said all that, but the poor man didn’t. He said nothing. He simply kept silent.

It strikes me, and I wish I could ask him, “Father, when you said nothing, weren’t you worried what the visitor would think of you?” “No, I wasn’t. Let him think what he likes. I’m not concerned with what someone says about me when he isn’t being true to himself. If I had joined in and spoken about those lofty things, wouldn’t I have encouraged his illusion that he was a spiritual man? My silence brought him down to earth abruptly. Once he was grounded, I could help him learn how to rise again in the right way.”

But starting from the foundation, beginning your ascent with the right steps, not the other way around, you will start with what concerns you: the everyday, the commonplace, the simple, the boring. How are you getting on with your neighbor over the shared building expenses? Do you say good morning to each other, or do you look out the window?

...to watch the door and see when the other person has gone out, so you can leave afterward without meeting or greeting them. Deal with those things first. Christ is there. Even if that does not seem spiritual to you, it holds a great deal of spiritual life. The proof is how hard you find it to do. That is why you struggle: genuinely spiritual things unsettle us. They elude us, make things difficult for us, press against our pride, and we can hardly manage them. Saint Poemen was very humble, a wonderful man.

I think he would have liked your music too. Thank you for the selections you’ve played today. The station’s phone numbers are 4118602 and 4118640. I also have many emails and letters here thanking us for the program. Thank you so much for your kindness and love. And thank you to those who have written such kind words about our book. It isn’t mine alone: these broadcasts belong to both of us, to you and me. Several of them have been printed as a book, with the words written down just as they were spoken on air. The book is called Strengthen Your Soul. It was published by the Panagia Galaxidiotissa or Thalassokratousa Association in Galaxidi, Phocis, near Delphi. Thank you for reading it.

I also thank Eleni, who told me she bought several copies of the book to give to her relatives. And I thank Mr. Kostas, who calls from abroad and has given it to his relatives too. I also thank someone who brought me down to earth by saying that the point is not only to listen to what we say, but to live it. You are right. That is my struggle too. It is my prayer, and it is where I fall short: that one day I too may live and put into practice what I say. And the program’s email address is...

Perasmata, www.papakigiahou.gr. The station’s phone numbers are 4118602 and 4118640. The program is also rebroadcast late at night during the week, and in a few days it will be available online to download and listen to whenever you like, at your leisure, at a time that suits you.

And I also liked how he gave people comforting advice and spoke about their problems so calmly. He did not upset anyone or stir up arguments and tension. That takes great skill. To communicate with others and help them in that way, you must have searched deeply within yourself. You need to be at peace with yourself and with God; you need illumination and discernment. But a careless person has no discernment. First you must have shed much blood and many tears in the struggle with your own soul. You must have undergone an upheaval, an earthquake, a revolution within. You must have torn down the old things and confronted your own unhealthy ideas, prejudices, idols, and illusions. You must...

...come down to earth before you can help someone else. That is what Abba Poemen did. Another elder heard that his disciples were going into town to bathe and were neglecting their souls, living rather loosely. He grew angry, gathered them together, and took away their monastic habits. ‘Take off your cassocks and give them back to me,’ he said. ‘You are not monks if you live like this, growing lax instead of being strict and attentive in your spiritual lives.’

‘You cannot go on being monks this way.’ So he took their cassocks and piled them up. With his head spinning and so many intrusive thoughts, or logismoi, troubling him, he went to Abba Poemen and told him what had happened. ‘Father, this cannot go on. These men are monks, yet they go into town to bathe, enjoy themselves, and live an easier life. They are not living as men of God.’ ‘And what did you do, my child?’ Poemen asked. ‘What are those things you are carrying?’ ‘I gathered them together and told them, “Take off your cassocks. That is the end of it. You will no longer be monks.”’

Strictness. More strictness, the axe coming down: that is supposed to change people. But Abba Poemen said to him, ‘Tell me, do you have nothing left in you of the old man? Have you completely stripped off your old self? Are you so perfect?’ ‘No,’ the elder said. ‘I am not entirely perfect either. I still carry something of my old ways.’ ‘Well then,’ Poemen said, ‘you are like the others.’

‘The only difference is that you do not do what they do. You do not go into town to bathe, and no one sees you living a more relaxed life. But you know within yourself, and God knows, that you too are not free of everything. Are you not human too, a sinner subject to sin?’ The elder was moved to see a Saint so strict with himself and so gentle with others. He took the cassocks he was holding, went back to the other fathers, and said, ‘Take your habits back. Put them on again, and forgive me for treating you so harshly.’

Isn’t that it? Such kindness, such mercy, such love wins a person over. I believe those men, once they put their cassocks back on, renewed their struggle and took it to heart. They must have said, ‘Come on, brothers. Our elder has forgiven us. Let us make a more earnest effort. Let us not grow lax and live like everyone else in the world. We have dedicated ourselves to God, after all, to a life of inner growth, prayer, poverty, fasting, and self-restraint. Let us keep to these things.’ Isn’t that so? When good people beside us love us instead of punishing us, they win us over. I ask you: have you won over someone close to you through your gentle manner? Do not answer me, defend yourself to me, or make excuses to me. I am not the judge.

Your happiness is the measure. You will answer through your happiness, your pain, or the longing in your soul that remains unsatisfied. You may tell me, ‘Yes, I shout, but I am right to shout.’ Well, the other elder had a point too, and Abba Poemen had a point. But being right is not what brings you to Paradise. What brings you there is the wisdom of humility and discernment: the sensitivity and gentle manner that win another person’s soul. Do we win over the souls of those close to us? Yes, we do. You have often won over your loved ones because your manner is so kind. It moves me to see and hear it. I know people too; I do not live alone...

...but among other people, and I see what kindness can do.

Kindness wins people over. Everything else betrays insecurity. When we pressure others, it shows that we ourselves are insecure, that something within us is unsettled. If I feel I have to pressure you about something, perhaps I have doubts about what I am doing and take no joy in it. Someone who finds joy in life helps others gently and calmly. ‘All right, try to overcome it a little, if you want,’ you say. The other person feels relieved. They do not feel as if a slipper is being raised to smack them on the head. They think, ‘They love me. They respect me. They leave me free to choose.’ And when you leave someone free to choose, they do not always choose evil. Remember that. Evil frightens us; we recoil from it. These are the things I liked as I read about Poemen.

Above all, do not lose heart because of what I have said. Even if we are not as the Saint calls us to be, let us not despair. If you are a sinner, do not despair. And you, too, who have sinned and done many things in your life: do not despair. Yes, you have done many things. I do not want to stress that word ‘many’ or put it quite that way. But you have done much; I say it plainly. You know how serious some of it was: harm to others and harm to yourself. One thing was ruined, then another happened, and now you are close to despair. Do not come to me, because I too may disappoint you. Go to Abba Poemen and ask him whether there is hope of salvation for you...

...and whether God will receive you. Will you? Go and ask him. Others asked him too, and what a beautiful answer he will give you. It will be as sweet as Turkish delight...

...as sweet as cake and sponge cake. Your soul will be soothed and grow peaceful; it will rise again and return to repentance, to metanoia.

Some people in despair came to Abba Poemen and said, ‘I have fallen into a very grave sin. I am desperate, and I want to struggle against it. But I do not know how long it will take for God to forgive me. Would three years be enough? If I repent for three years, will God forgive everything I have done, however much it is?’ Abba Poemen answered, ‘Three years? Three years is far too long.’ ‘But then how long, Father? If three years is too long, shall we say one year? Must I wait a year for God to forgive me?’ ‘That is far too long.’ ‘How long, Father? All right, let us say forty days, the length of Lent. Forty days of fasting, like the Lenten fast.’ ‘No, my child. For God, even that is far too long.’ ‘But I have committed grave sins.’

‘Even days are too long.’ ‘Then, Father, you tell me.’ ‘Listen, my child,’ Abba Poemen said. ‘I believe that if a person repents from the heart for what they have done and makes an earnest effort to live differently—to learn to love where they once hated, and where they once wounded someone...’

‘...hurt them deeply and crushed them, to learn to comfort them and show them kindness and love; where they once stole, to learn to... You see what I mean. That is true repentance, true metanoia. If you truly repent, I believe God will receive you even within three days. Spend those three days mourning for your sin. Recognize your wrong, weep over it, and feel the weight of your guilt. That too can be a process that brings relief and sets you free. Mourn for the state of your soul. I mean mourning for your soul, as we would mourn for a loved one who has died. Suppose I caused an accident: I struck someone, and a woman broke her arm. I would feel that. I might have been at fault, or I might not, but I would still feel that I had been involved in someone breaking her arm. You cannot get over that in a minute, and it would not help to forget it in a minute. There is a balance here: neither one minute nor a whole lifetime, nor even three years, Saint Poemen says.’

Live with it for a few days, though, and struggle earnestly before God not to do it again. God loves you. Understand, we are not talking here about when someone should receive Holy Communion; that is another matter. I am telling you what the Gerontikon says: God opens His arms at once and welcomes you close to Him. Aren’t those comforting words? Could anyone in despair hear them and not want to go and confess to Abba Poemen? Perhaps not to me, or to other fathers who do not say this so readily. But I would go to Abba Poemen. If he told me that God would receive me within three days, I would say, ‘I want Him to receive me. I want to return to God.’

So that is how I began today, speaking to you about Abba Poemen. I liked these stories. I found them in a book, though not the one I mentioned earlier, my own book, Strengthen Your Soul. That is the book we put together from these programs: seven broadcasts written out as text, along with a CD so you can listen while driving or at home, and read them when you have a quiet moment. That is our Strengthen Your Soul. It is also sold at the Piraeus Church bookshop. The book I am using now for the Gerontikon is called An Elder Said, published by Asteros Papadimitriou. It presents the Gerontikon in modern Greek. I recommend it. If I had to choose between my book and this one, I would choose this one. Thank you, because it holds the wisdom of the ages, the wisdom of the fathers, of Saintly people, and it gives us a guide for living.

These things are very helpful. But notice what we are doing today. We are not simply taking these stories as they stand and saying, ‘The elder said this, this, and this. Full stop.’ We are trying to explore them and bring them into the here and now. You may be holding your baby in your arms right now and thinking, ‘Oh, the baby!’ Someone else is on the way to work. Another comes home with a head spinning from figures and bills. Someone is looking for work and was turned down today. Another lost their job the other day. Someone has lost a child; someone else has married. Each person lives through their own circumstances. So I need to take what the Gerontikon says and bring it into the shape of your own life, where you are living now, so that what Christ says may happen...

My wine goes into new wineskins. It adapts and comes alive in new situations. The point is not to repeat the past by rote, but to draw on its life and the tools it gives us—its energy, grace, the Holy Spirit, and wisdom—and bring them into my own life in the twenty-first century. These events may have happened in the third, fourth, or fifth century, but I can bring them into the present. This is the wisdom of God. This is the great storehouse of wisdom in the Church, and we are called to carry that wisdom forward. We bring the old into our lives in a way that speaks to today.

We bring the old to young people. And you are young too, even if you are seventy or eighty: you are people of our time. Whatever your age, you are a child of your own time. Vasilis Hatzinikolaou, thank you so much for keeping me good company today, along with Abba Poemen. And thank you for listening to the program once again.

The station’s phone numbers are 4118602 and 4118640. The program’s email address is atheata@perasmata.gr. I hope the rest of your week goes well. May God comfort you. Whenever you feel troubled, I hope you remember how this program began and say, ‘I’m alive! I could have been in the next world since last year. At least I’m alive now.’

‘I may have problems, but I’m alive. I thank God that I’m alive, and I won’t let what people do or say to me get under my skin. I enjoy the good things in life. I focus on the light. I focus on Christ. The other things are there, but I do not dwell on them. I am dead to them. I am alive to the light Christ gives me. He calls me to life, to hope, and to strength, and that is how I manage to stand firm.’ Say that to yourself, and you will live. That is Abba Poemen’s advice for finding comfort. Enter that tomb and bury the things that grieve and trouble you. Live in the light and love of Christ. Be dead to the things that drag you down and alive to Christ, who raises you up

in every season of the year. May you have strength. Take care, and we’ll speak again in a few days. You’ll see how quickly they pass.