on blasphemous thoughts


Elder Thaddeus said, "Life here on earth is unceasing physical and spiritual warfare." I found this is so true. Any time and anywhere we deal with so many attacks, temptations, arrows and snares of the enemy. At times, that struggle becomes very heavy for us and thus we slide down to the valley. It is the time when sorrow, sadness and even depression come unexpectedly and the result is very disturbing.

Not rare, that condition be accompanied by such annoyance and blasphemous thought. And even this happened not only to us, but also the saints who lived before us. I found this very encouraging article about life of St. Kronid of from Ora et Labora blog:

“One evening while standing in the Church of Sts Zosima and Savvaty during the Vigil,” Archimandrite Kronid related about himself, “terrible, horrible thoughts of disbelief, doubt, and blasphemy suddenly and unexpectedly appeared in my head, like lightening. This happened so quickly and suddenly that they, like lightening, burnt me with hellfire. Then such thoughts poured like a river through my consciousness. I was dumb from fear and horror. Something indescribable and inscrutable, horrible and strange took place in my soul. These thoughts did not leave me after I went from church to my cell. These sufferings were indeed nothing of this earth, but of hell. I was deprived of food and sleep. Then days, weeks, months passed; a year, two, three, four passed, but these hellish thoughts continued to flow involuntarily, continuing to haunt me. I could find not a place of relief from the anguish and sorrow; I, the sinner, in my despair, even asked the Lord for death. This mental warfare was indescribably difficult. Imagine the state of someone in battle, when two worlds are within you: one world is bright, of faith and hope in God and the burning desire for salvation; and the other, a world of darkness, instilling only destructive and blasphemous thoughts and disbelief. This unbearable warfare visited me especially when celebrating the Divine Liturgy. Standing at God’s Altar before the Holy of Holies and pronouncing the prayer for the action of the Holy Spirit to consecrate the Holy Gifts, I was at that very same moment continuing to be overcome mentally by defiled thoughts of disbelief and doubt. Therefore my tears of repentance knew no boundaries. Even Hierodeacon Jonathan, who was concelebrating with me, seeing how bitterly I wept, considered me deranged of mind. He, of course, thought this out of ignorance. He did not know what was happening in the depth of my soul. My only consolation and joy was, in my free minutes, to open the book of The Lives of the Saints to read about Niphont, the wonder-worker of Cyprus, who suffered similar thoughts for the course of four years. Destructive thoughts attacked me with special force on the twelve great Feast Days. My nerves came undone by all this, and thoughts of despair and depression pursuit me everywhere. Losing control of myself, I was forced to hide from myself knives, forks, rope, and all other sorts of objects and weapons that could be used for suicide. I lack the words to describe everything, and the tears of horror and the suffering I endured. There were moments at night when I was unable to gain control of myself and ran out of my cell, went to the cathedral, and ran around it, sobbing, unable to wait the minute when the cathedral would be opened and I could weep out my grief and unbearable hardship at the relics of St Sergius. I now remember the words of an ascetic: ‘Seek out for yourself an Elder and director not so much of holiness, but of experience in the spiritual life.’ I was able to test this advice on myself first of all. When in my great sufferings I turned to one spiritually respected person and told him of my mental grief, he listened and said: ‘What’s wrong with you? Lord be with you, how can you give way to such thoughts?’ I left misunderstood by him, neither alive nor dead from desperate sorrow. I did not sleep all night. In the morning, as soon as I had gotten onto my feet, I went, according to my responsibilities, to painting class, and on the way I came upon the leader of the painting studio, Hieromonk Micah. Seeing me upset, he cried out with astonishment: ‘Father Kronid! What’s wrong with you? You’re unrecognizable! Your face has a special air of suffering, full of sorrows, unwittingly expressing you spiritual suffering. Speak, what’s wrong with you?’ Then I told him of all my inner sorrows and thoughts. He listened with tears in his eyes, with a special feeling of compassion and Christian love, as if he himself were enduring these pains with me. He said: ‘Relax, Father Kronid. This great warfare, this unbearable enemy, happens to many people. We are not the first. Many, very many suffer from it. I myself suffered from this warfare for seven years and reached such a state that once, going to the Dormition Cathedral for Vespers, I could not even stay there due to thoughts of disbelief and blasphemy. Running out of church, I went to the cell of my spiritual father, Hieromonk Avraamy, all the while shaking and unable to speak. The Elder asked me a few times: ‘What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you? Tell me.’ After many tears all I could say was: ‘Batiushka, I’m perishing!’ Then the Elder told me: ‘You are not delighting in these thoughts and are not pleased by them, are you? Why are you so intolerably alarmed? Relax! The Lord sees your spiritual martyrdom, and He will help you in all things.’ Then he read the prayer of absolution over me, blessed me, and sent me away with peace, and from that day, with God’s help, they have completely disappeared. They do sometimes appear occasionally, but I pay them no mind, and they disappear, and I calm down quickly.’ Father Micah’s words were like precious balm poured upon my soul, and from that time I have received a significant lessening of this mental warfare.”


I think, I am so unworthy to explain it to us. This has been so clear! As an addition, St. Kronid suffered from this for 4 years. So did St. Niphont (December 23), who also found the tranquility and delivered from this tranquility afterward:

The Lord allowed a special affliction to come upon Niphon, so that tried like gold in a furnace, he might be proved worthy of divine grace. The man of God was delivered into the power of Satan, and for four years was out of his mind. Once, while keeping an all-night vigil in his room, the saint heard a sudden, frightful noise, moving from right to left. He was terrified and wondered what it might be. Immediately the devil appeared, raging and roaring and filling the blessed one with such trepidation that his thoughts bebecame utterly confused. Coming to himself a little, Niphon tried to pray and make the sign of the Cross. Seeing this, the devil screeched, "Leave off your entreaties to God, and I will put an end to my attacks!"

Niphon answered, "I will never obey you, unclean spirit. If God has given you permission to destroy me, so be it; I submit gratefully. If not, then know that you will soon be vanguished."

"You are deceived, Niphon," lauged the devil. "There is no God; have you ever seen Him?"

The wicked spirit continued raving like this for some time, but the saint repeated, "You speak like a fool, devil, for the fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." Nonetheless, although he wished to pray, Niphon could not. He could say the words, but could not concentrate on them. As a result, he became downcast and his understanding confused; he was deprived of reason and endured great anguish. Whenever he came to hismelf a little, the demon would appear and whisper, "There is no God!" To this the saint could only reply: "I may fall into fornication, I may commit murder, I am capable of any sin; but I will never renounce my Christ!"

"What are you saying? There is no Christ," the devil would snarl. "I control everything and rule over all. Who told you that there is a God or a Christ?"

"You will not decieve me, ruler of darkness! Depart, enemy of righteousness!" Niphon would shout.

The devil, however, would not go away, but continued to assail him, clouding his intellect and trying to force him to renounce God. During that period, Niphon persisted in his attempts to pray. Thus once, while he was making supplication, his mind filled with doubt as to whether God exists, he looked up and stretched out his hands to the icon of the Saviour, and sighing from the depths of his heart, cried, "O God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? Grant me firm conviction that Thou art God and that there is none other than Thee, lest I submit to the counsel of the enemy."

With this, the face of Christ on the icon began to shine like the sun, and Niphon could smell a wondrous frangrance. Casting himself to the floor in astonishment, he exclaimed, "Forgive me, O Master, for having doubted Thee! Thou art my God, and henceforth I will believe without question that Thou alone art Lord and Creator of all things." A moment later, while still lying on the floor, he looked again at the icon and witnessed another miracle: the image of the Master moved its eyes and brows as though it were alive. Niphon cried, "Blessed is my God, and blessed is His glorious name, now and unto the ages! Amen." From that day on, the grace of God rested upon Niphon, since he had completed the four years of trial.

The saint's face was ever brigth and joyful, perplexing those who knew him before. "What does this mean?" they would ask. "For years he was gloomy, but now he is always happy." The reason he was constantly cheerful was that he no longer feared the demons; instead, he mocked them, saying, "Where are those say who there is no God?"

Through the prayers of Saints Niphon and Kronid, O Lord have mercy on us and strengthen us!

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