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Sayings of the Fathers (Systematic Collection, Latin)

tr. Chadwick, 1958; selections

16. Part 16: Of Patience

The brothers said that Abba Gelasius¹ had a parchment book worth eighteen shillings, containing the whole of the Old and New Testament. The book was put in the church, so that any monk who wished could read it. But a travelling monk came to visit the old man: and when he saw the book, he coveted it, stole it, and went away. The old man, though he knew who the thief was, did not give chase or try to catch him.

The thief went to a city and looked for a buyer. He found a man who wanted it, and began by asking him sixteen shillings for it. The man, who wished to beat him down, said: “First give it to me so that I may show it to someone and get advice, and then I will pay your price.” So the monk gave him the book for this purpose. He took the book to Abba Gelasius to discover whether it was a good bargain and worth this high price. He told Abba Gelasius the price that the seller was asking. The old man said: “Buy it. It is a good bargain, and worth that price.”

So he went back to the seller, but instead of doing what the old man had told him, he said: “Look, I showed this book to Abba Gelasius, and he told me it was too highly priced, and not worth what you said.” The thief said: “Did the old man tell you nothing else?” He answered: “Nothing.” Then the thief said: “Now I do not want to sell the book.”

Stricken in heart, he went to the old man, did penance, and asked him to take the book back. The old man did not want to accept it. Then the monk said: “Unless you take it back, I cannot have peace of mind.” And the old man said: “If you cannot have peace of mind unless I take it back, I will take it back.”

And the brother remained with the old man until his death, and made progress by learning from his patience.

At a meeting of the hermits in Cellia, an Abba Evagrius spoke. And the priest there said: “Abba Evagrius, we know that if you were in your own country, perhaps you would already be a bishop, and ruling over many souls. Here you are like a stranger.” Evagrius was stricken in heart at the words: but, serenely and without haste, he bent his head, looked at the ground, wrote in the dust with his finger, and said: “Truly, Fathers, it is so. But, as it is written, I have spoken once: and I will no more answer.”²

The brothers surrounded Abba John the Short when he was sitting in front of the church, and each of them asked him about their thoughts. Another old man flared up in envy at the sight, and said: “Abba John, your cup is full of poison.” And Abba John answered: “Yes, Father, it is. But you have said this when you can only see the outside—what would you say if you saw the inside?”

John the Less of the Thebaid, a disciple of Abba Ammonius, was said to have lived for twelve years ministering to an old man who was ill, and sitting on a mat near him. But the old man was always cross with him; and although John worked a long time for him, he never said: “May it be well with you.” But when the old man was on his death-bed, in the presence of the elders of the place, he held John’s hand and said: “May it be well with you, may it be well with you.” And the old man commended John to the old men, saying: “This is an angel, not a man.”

They said of Abba Isidore, the priest in Scete, that if anyone had a monk sick, or weak, or insolent, and wanted to drive him out, he would say: “Bring him to me.” And he took him, and cured the soul by his patience.

Abba Macarius, when in Egypt, found a man who had brought a beast to his cell and was stealing his possessions. As though he was a traveller, who did not live there, he went up to the thief and helped him to load the beast, and peaceably led him on his way, saying to himself: “We brought nothing into this world;³ but the Lord gave: as he willed, so it is done: blessed be the Lord in all things.”

At a meeting of monks in Scete, the old men wanted to test Abba Moses. So they poured scorn on him, saying: “Who is this blackamoor that has come among us?” Moses heard them, but said nothing. When the meeting had dispersed, the men who had given the insults, asked him: “Were you not troubled in your heart?” He answered: “I was troubled, and I said nothing.”

Paysius, the brother of Abba Poemen, loved a monk of his cell. Abba Poemen did not like it. So he rose and fled to Abba Ammonas, and said to him: “My brother Paysius loves some people and I do not like it.” Abba Ammonas said to him: “Abba Poemen, are you still alive? Go sit in your cell, and put it in your heart that you have been already a year in your grave.”

Abba Poemen said: “Whatever travail comes upon you shall be overcome by silence.”

A brother who was hurt by another brother went to the Theban Abba Sisois and said: “I want to avenge myself on a brother who has hurt me.” The old man begged him: “Don’t, my son: leave vengeance in the hands of God.” But he said: “I cannot rest until I avenge myself.” The old man said: “My brother, let us pray.” The old man stood up and said: “O God, we have no further need to think of thee, for we take vengeance of ourselves.” The brother heard it and fell at the old man’s feet, saying: “No longer will I quarrel with my brother: I beg you to forgive me.”

A man who saw a religious person carrying a corpse on a bed, said: “Are you carrying dead men? Go and carry the living.”

They said of a monk, that the more bitterly anyone injured or assailed him, the more he was well-disposed to him; for he said: “People like this are a means to cure the faults of serious men. People who make them happy, do their souls harm. For it is written: ‘They that call thee blessed, deceive thee.’”⁴

Some robbers once came to the hermitage of an old man and said: “We have come to remove everything in your cell.” And he said: “Take what you see, my sons.” So they took what they found in the cell, and went away. But they missed a little bag which was hidden in the cell. The old man picked it up, and gave chase, shouting out: “My sons, you missed this—take it.” They admired his patience and restored everything, and did penance to him: and said to each other: “Truly this is a man of God.”

Some brothers came to a holy old man who lived in the desert; and outside the hermitage they found a boy tending the sheep and using ill-mannered words. After they had told the old man their thoughts and profited from his reply, they said: “Abba, why do you allow those boys to be here, and do not order them to stop hurling abuse at each other?” The old man said: “Believe me, my brothers, there are days when I want to order them, but I stop myself; saying, If I cannot put up with this little thing, how shall I put up with a serious temptation, if God ever lets me be so tempted? So I say nothing to them, and try to get a habit of enduring whatever happens.”

There was a story that an old man had a little boy living with him. And seeing him doing some unsuitable work, he said: “Don’t do that.” The child disobeyed him. The old man, observing him to be disobedient, washed his hands of his upbringing, and let him do as he liked. But for three days the boy kept shut the door of the room with the bread and let the old man go without food. The old man did not say: “Where are you?” or “What are you doing out there?”

A neighbour of the old man saw that the boy was late in bringing food; he made a little stew, and passed it to him through a hole in the wall of the cell, and asked him to eat. And he said to the old man: “Why is that disciple of yours so long away?” The old man said: “When he has leisure, he will come back.”

There was a story that some philosophers once came to test the monks. One of the monks came by dressed in a fine robe. The philosophers said to him: “Come here, you.” But he was indignant, and insulted them. Then another monk came by, a good person, a Libyan by race. They said to him: “Come here, you wicked old monk.” He came to them at once, and they began to hit him: but he turned the other cheek to them. Then the philosophers rose and did homage to him, saying: “Here is a monk indeed.” And they made him sit down in their midst, and asked him: “What do you do in this desert more than we do? You fast: and we fast also. You chastise your bodies and so do we. Whatever you do, we do the same.” The old man answered: “We trust in God’s grace, and keep a watch on our minds.” They said: “That is what we cannot do.” And they were edified, and let him go.

An old man, who had a proved disciple, once turned him out in a fit of irritation. The disciple sat down outside to wait: and the old man found him there when he opened the door, and did penance to him, saying: “You are my Father, because your humility and patience have conquered the weakness of my soul. Come inside: now you are the old father, and I am the young disciple: my age must give way to your conduct.”

One of the old men said that he had heard holy men say that there are young men who show old men how to live: and they told this story.

There was a drunken old man, who wove a mat a day, sold it in the next village, and drank as much as he could with the money. Then a monk came to live with him, and also wove a mat a day. The old man took this mat as well, sold it, bought wine with the price of both, and brought back to the monk only a little bread for the evening meal. Though this went on for three years, the brother said nothing.

At the end of three years the monk said to himself: “Here am I, with little enough bread and nothing else. I will go away.” But then he had second thoughts, and said to himself: “Where can I go? I will stay here, and for God’s sake continue with this common life.” And immediately an angel of the Lord appeared to him, and said: “Don’t go away, we shall come for you tomorrow.” That day the monk begged the old man: “Don’t go anywhere: today they will come to take me away.” At the time when the old man usually went out to the village, he said to the monk: “They will not come today, my son: it is already late.” The monk used every argument to show that they would come: and even while he was talking, he slept in peace.

The old man wept, and said: “I am sorrowful, my son, that I have lived in neglect for so many years, and you through patience have saved your soul in so short a time.” And thenceforward the old man became sober and serious.

A brother who lived near a great old man, is said to have entered his cell from time to time and stolen the contents. Though the old man saw him, he did not abuse him, but struggled to produce more than usual, saying: “I believe that brother is in need.” And while he worked harder than usual, he tightened his belt and ate less. When the old man was on his death-bed, the brothers stood round him. And he looked at the thief, and said: “Come here and touch me.” And he grasped his hand and kissed it, saying: “I thank these hands of yours, my brother: it is because of them that I go to the kingdom of heaven.” The thief was stricken with remorse and did penance: and he became a true monk, and followed the example of that great old man.

[20.⁵ There was a harlot named Thais, so beautiful that for her sake many people impoverished themselves. Her lovers used always to be quarrelling, and several young men spilt their blood on her doorstep.

When Abba Paphnutius heard of it, he took a secular dress and a gold shilling, and set out to see her in one of the cities of Egypt. He gave her his gold shilling for the price of her sin; she accepted it, and said: “Let us go into the house.” As he was about to lie on the bed, which was strewn with costly coverlets, he beckoned her and said: “If there is an inner room, let us go into it.” She said: “There is an inner room. But if you are frightened of men, no one comes into this outer room. If you are frightened of God, you cannot escape his eye anywhere.” To this the old man said: “Do you know about God?” She answered: “I know about God, and the kingdom of the next world, and the future torment for sinners.” He said: “If you know this, why have you destroyed so many souls, and therefore will have to give account for theirs as well as your own?”

When Thais heard this, she fell down at Paphnutius’ feet, weeping: and said: “Lay a penance upon me, father. I trust with your prayers to win forgiveness. Let me have three hours’ grace, and I will come wherever you command and do whatever you tell me.” When Abba Paphnutius had appointed her a place to meet, she collected all the presents she had won by her sins. She took them into the city square and publicly burnt them, crying: “Come, all you people who have sinned with me, see how I am burning your presents.” The value of the pile was forty pounds.

When she had burnt it all, she went to the appointed place. He found for her a hermitage for maidens, and put her in a little cell. He sealed the door, and left a little window through which she could receive food, and told the sisters of the convent to bring her a little bread and water every day. When Paphnutius had sealed the door and was going away, Thais said to him: “Where, father, would you have me pour my water?” And he said: “In the cell, you are worthy.” Then she asked him how to pray to God. He said: “You are not worthy to have God’s name on your lips, nor to stretch out your hands towards heaven; for your lips are full of wickedness and your hands polluted. You must simply sit down, look towards the east, and say this prayer again and again: ‘Thou who hast fashioned me, have mercy upon me.’”

After she had been shut there for three years, Abba Paphnutius was moved with sympathy, and went to see Abba Antony, to ask him whether God had forgiven her sins or not. Abba Antony, learning all the circumstances, summoned his disciples and told them to watch all night, and persevere in earnest prayer that God would declare to one of them the answer for which Abba Paphnutius had come. They all went apart, and prayed continually: and Abba Paul, the chief disciple of Saint Antony, suddenly saw a bed in heaven covered with precious coverlets, and guarded by three maidens whose faces shone. Paul said to himself: “This is the gift of none but my father Antony.” And a voice came to him: “It is not the gift of your father Antony, but of the harlot Thais.”

Abba Paul told what he had seen: and Abba Paphnutius recognized the will of God, returned to the hermitage where Thais was shut, and broke the seals on the door. She asked him to let her stay shut in. But he opened the door, and said: “Come out, for God has forgiven your sins.” She answered: “I call God to witness that from the time I came here I have kept my sins in my mind’s eye like a burden, and I have kept weeping at the sight of them.” Abba Paphnutius said: “God has forgiven you, not for your penitence, but because you always kept in your mind the thought of your sins.” And he brought her out: and she lived for only fifteen days, and died in peace.]

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