A Priest's Blasphemous Thoughts and Despair - Russian New-Martyr Kronid

(from ORA ET LABORA)

“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.”