I want to live my youth…

I feel my heart is broken when I tell my younger brothers to whom I feel life is bursting in their chest:

`Come good man at least for ten minutes to the Liturgy. Not ten, five. At least enter the church and then leave. You say `good day, God` and then go. Saint Maximus the Confessor has a booklet of about thirty pages Mystagogy where he writes that the angels write you in the Book of Life when you enter the church.

They answer to me :

`Forgive me father. I am too young. I want to live my youth then there comes the time to withdraw to the depot (church)

In the morning I confessed a 75 years old woman, with a bag full of medicine to take and who can`t walk.

The bed is her company and the pain her sister. She cries uncontrollably:

`How I miss the church, father. How I long to see your robes, the beautiful icons and listen to the chants. I can`t bear it anymore. I wish I be there but now it is too late.

I sit on the edge of her bed and I feel my eyes wet. In tese moments I can only think about Solomon`s words:

Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come
    and the years approach when you will say,     “I find no pleasure in them”—
before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars grow dark,
    and the clouds return after the rain; when the keepers of the house tremble,
    and the strong men stoop, when the grinders cease because they are few,
    and those looking through the windows grow dim;
when the doors to the street are closed and the sound of grinding fades;
when people rise up at the sound of birds, but all their songs grow faint;
when people are afraid of heights and of dangers in the streets;
when the almond tree blossoms and the grasshopper drags itself along
    and desire no longer is stirred.
Then people go to their eternal home and mourners go about the streets.

Remember him—before the silver cord is severed and the golden bowl is broken;
before the pitcher is shattered at the spring and the wheel broken at the well,
and the dust returns to the ground it came from and the spirit returns to God who gave it.

“Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher “Everything is meaningless!”

(Ecclesiastes, chapter 12)

Previous Post

The Gospel of the day (Matthew 16, 6-12)

Next Post

The Gospel of the day (Matthew 16, 20-24)

Related Posts