Selections from the Prayers by the Lake

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Re: Selections from the Prayers by the Lake

Postby maz » April 28th, 2011, 3:32 pm

I like the above* Theo - it's straightforward, honest, and biblical, and thought-provoking.

*seems a new page has started, so I am referring to the last post on the previous page.

Let others believe in the God who brings men to trial and judges them.

I shall cling to the God who resurrects the dead.
amen..what a very hard [and dangerous to our spiritual life in Him] task some take on in judging others :(
Our body changes with age, throughout our lifetime we have called many bodies our own. Which of them will be resurrected?
this is very interesting indeed.
My dad [a Believer in the Lord], passed on in 1997..
a few years later my mom, sorting out her old photos, showed me a passport one of my dad [when he came from Ireland to England]..he was, maybe, about 21, 22 - and [cannot fully explain/prove this], I 'knew' [in a split-second], that was how he would be resurrected - in his joyful prime..[he had been a believer since he was 12 - at least a conscious one from then].
I don’t want to be known for the things I’m against, but for the things I am for... but....A person who loves flowers will hate weeds ... trong.html
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Re: Selections from the Prayers by the Lake

Postby Theophilus » July 13th, 2011, 11:13 pm

Just a little longer and my journey will end.

Keep me on the steep path to You just a little longer, O Conqueror of death; because the higher I climb towards You, the more people try to drag me down into their abyss. The fuller their abyss becomes, the greater their hope is of defeating You. In truth, the fuller the abyss becomes, the further away from the abyss You are.

How stupid the servants of the tree of knowledge are! They do not measure their strength in You, but in their numbers. They do not adopt a law of justice in Your name, but in the name of the masses. Whichever way the majority of them choose is the way of truth and justice. The tree of knowledge has become the tree of crime, stupidity, and icy darkness.

Truly, the knowledgeable men of this world know everything except that they are servants of Satan. When the last day dawns, Satan will rejoice in the number of people in his harvest. All the meagre ears of grain! But in his stupidity, even Satan counts on quantity rather than quality. One of Your ears of grain will be worth more than the entire harvest of Satan. For You, O Conqueror of death, rely on the fullness of the bread of life, and not on numbers.

In vain I tell the godless: "Head for the Tree of Life and you will know more than you could possibly wish to know. From the tree of knowledge Satan fashions a ladder for you to descend into the nether world."

The godless ridicule me and say: "Through the Tree of Life you want to convert us to your God, whom we do not see."

In truth, you will never see Him. The Light that even blinds the eyes of the seraphim will burn blindness onto your retinas forever.

Of all that thrives in the putrescence of the earth, those who believe in God are the rarest. O lake and mountain, help me to be glad that I, too, am journeying with these most rare, most unlearned, and most despised believers.

Just a little longer, brethren, and our journey will end.

Sustain us just a little longer, O Conqueror of death.
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Re: Selections from the Prayers by the Lake

Postby Theophilus » July 18th, 2011, 2:40 pm

Repent of your ways, inhabitants of the earth.

Behold, the eye of the Master of the world is keeping watch deep within you. Do not trust your naive eyes, let the Eye illumine your way. Your eyes are curtains over the Eye of God.

Repentance is admission of the way of sin. Repentance opens up a new way. The penitent's eyes are open to two ways: to the way which he is going, and to the way he should be going.

There are more who feel repentant than there are who turn their wheels onto a new way. I tell you: the penitent must have two types of courage: he must have the courage to weep over his old way, and he must have the courage to prepare himself for a new way.

What good is it for you to feel repentant and still tread the old way? How do you describe a person who is drowning and shouts for help, but when help arrives will not grab hold of the life line? I liken such a person to you.

Repent of your yearning for this world and all that is in this world. For this world is the graveyard of your ancestors, which is gaping and waiting for you. Just a little longer and you will be ancestors and will yearn to hear the word "repentance," but you will not hear it.

Just as the wind begins blowing and carries off the mist before the sun, so will death carry you off before the face of God.

Repentance rejuvenates the heart and lengthens one's lifetime. The tears of a penitent wash darkness from his eyes, and give his eyes a childlike radiance. The eye of my lake is like the eye of a deer, always dewy, and radiant as a diamond. In truth, the moisture in the eyes drains the anger in the heart.

The soul in the penitent is like a new moon. A full moon must wane, a new moon must wax.

The penitent clears the weeds from the field of his soul, and the seed of goodness begins to grow.

Truly, the penitent is not one who laments over the evil deed he has committed, but one who laments over all the evil deeds that he is capable of committing. A wise landowner not only cuts the thorn bush that has pricked him, but every thorn bush on the field that is waiting to prick him.

O my Lord, make haste to show a new way to every penitent, after he scorns his old way.

O heavenly Mother, Bride of the All-Holy Spirit, bow down toward our heart, when we repent. Open the fountain of tears within us, that we may wash away the heavy clay, that saddens our eyes.

O All-Holy Spirit, blow and disperse the unclean stench from the soul of the penitent that has been choking him and lead him to repentance.

We bow down and beseech You, O Life-giving and Mighty Spirit!
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Re: Selections from the Prayers by the Lake

Postby Theophilus » July 28th, 2011, 9:05 pm

Think of yourself as though you were dead, I say to myself, and you will not feel the coming of death. Blunt the barb of death during life, and when it comes it will not have the means to sting.

Think of yourself every morning as a newborn miracle, and you will not feel old age.

Do not wait for death to come, because death has indeed already come and has not left you. Its teeth are continually in your flesh. Whatever was living before your birth and whatever will survive your death: all that even now is alive within you.

One night an angel unwound the tape of time, the end of which I was unable to perceive, and he showed me two dots on the tape, one next to the other. "The distance between these two dots," he said, "is the span of your lifetime."

"That means my lifetime is already over," I cried, "and I must be prepared for the journey. I must be like a diligent hostess, who spends the present day cleaning house and making preparations for tomorrow's slava[1] celebration."

Truly, the present day of all the sons of men is for the most part filled with concern for the next day. Yet few of those, who believe in Your promise, concern themselves with what will happen the day after death. May my death, O Lord, be my last sigh not for this world, but for that blessed and eternal Tomorrow.

Among the burned out candles of my friends, my candle, too, is burning down. "Do not be foolish," I reprimand myself, "and do not regret that your candle is burning out. Do you really love your friends so little, that you are afraid to set out after them, after the many who have strolled away? Do not regret that your candle is burning low, but that it is leaving behind unclear and dim light."

My soul has become accustomed to leaving my body every day and every night, and to stretch herself out to the limits of the universe. When she has budded in this way, my soul feels as though suns and moons are swimming over her even as the swans swim over my lake. She shines through suns and supports life on earthly planets. She supports mountains and seas; she controls thunder and winds. She completely fills Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow.[2] And she returns to shelter in a cramped and dilapidated habitation on one of those earthly planets.

She returns to the body that she still, for another minute or two, calls her own, and which sways like her shadow among mounds of graves, among lairs of beasts, among howls of false hopes.

I do not complain about death, O Living God, it does not seem to me to be anything sad. It is a terror that man has created for himself. More strongly than anything on earth, death is pushing me to meet You.

I had a walnut tree in front of my house, and death took it from me. I was angry at death and cursed it saying: "Why did it not take me, an insatiable animal, instead of something sinless?"

But now I think of myself as though I were dead, and near my little tree.

O my Immortal God, look mercifully upon a candle that is burning out, and purify its flame. For only a pure flame rises toward Your face, and is reflected in Your eye, with which you watch the whole world.


1. slava - - (Serbian word meaning "glory") in Serbian Orthodox religious tradition, the rites performed with special bread (kolach) and wine in order to glorify one's patron saint on his feast day, usually accompained by a sumptuous meal and large number of guests in one's home.

2. "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever" (Heb. 13:8).
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Re: Selections from the Prayers by the Lake

Postby Theophilus » July 18th, 2013, 5:21 pm

I was a shepherd for sheep, and You elevated me to be a shepherd for men.

I used to find green pasture for the sheep, and they were satisfied. I offer You as nourishment to men, and many do not even try you.

My heart is convulsed within me from sorrow, my Lord, and my eyes are constantly moistened with tears, because many do not try You, but instead they seek their nourishment in the fields of famine.

Not in that direction, my brethren, not in that direction. Those are the fields of famine where you are heading; your hunger will grow greater. And in demon-crazed hunger you will hunt each other and will devour one another, and your hunger will not be satisfied.

Sheep are nourished with what is from God, but you are men, intended to be nourished with God. If men were also to be nourished with the nourishment of sheep, why would God have created both men and sheep?

What are sheep except grass -- the nourishment with which they are nourished. But you are invited to be gods, therefore God offers Himself to you as nourishment.[1]

O my Lord, I kneel down before You and entreat Your mercy. Faith among Your priests has grown cold, therefore many people do not taste You. Your rich pasture lies there scarcely touched by grazing. A good shepherd for sheep is not a good shepherd for men. Why did you not leave me, to be good at something small, rather than designate me to be bad at something great?

Even when I was a shepherd of sheep, I was Your priest. With my shepherd's staff I would overturn every stone and blade of grass, and I would lie on my stomach on the ground and listen to the breathing of the earth, and I would lie on my back and watch the awesome fires of heaven. I would touch the dewy leaves in the mountain forest with my forehead, and would hug the tall fir trees that had been struck by lightning with compassion. And I used to read your name etched with fire all over the earth, and I used to feel every footstep beneath me burning and saying: "I am the altar of the Most High." And I used to fill all the valleys, all the groves, and all the pathways with my amazement at Your majesty. But once I grew up I discovered, with unutterable shuddering, that You are even closer to me than I used to suspect in the fields of my childhood. I discovered, O Lord, that even I myself am the earth, in which you burn and speak. I discovered, my Master, that I am the stranger within myself, and You are the Lord and master of the house.

And this discovery filled me with a horror, which pierced me to the marrow of my bones with an icy chill. I said to myself: "Have you not therefore sullied someone else's home and not your own? And have you not brought shame upon another rather than on yourself? Instead of insulting yourself, have you not insulted the master of the house, in whose home you are a guest? And instead of slinging mud on your own home, have you not veiled some sort of sun within you?"

What sort of baptism can wash away my disgrace before You? What sort of repentance can rectify my sin against You? Help me to annihilate myself, so that there is no "me," and so that I may be born anew, as a youth without a past. Help me, my heavenly Father.

The pagan idols expect a certain measure of wisdom from their priests. How much more wisdom is necessary for a priest of the Living God!

The idols expect a certain measure of purity. How much more radiant purity is expected of one who serves the God of gods!

The idols expect a certain measure of strength from their servers. With how much more strength must one gird himself, who is a server of the All-Powerful Almighty?

O my Most High heavenly Father, purity my life and make it a sacrifice on Your sacrificial altar. When I was a shepherd of lambs, I used to cry when they wanted to sacrifice a single lamb. Make me as innocent as a lamb, and consume me in flames on Your altar. I promise You that I shall not cry, O my Lord and my God.

-Saint Nikolai Velimirovich


1. Cf. John 6:27-58.
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