A few years ago, in mid-January, when Moscow lived in anticipation of Epiphany frosts, I decided to spend these cold weeks in warmer climes. So I ended up in the city of Alexandria, where I accidentally wandered into a small monastery belonging to the Coptic Church. There I got into a conversation with Father Varlaam, the librarian of this monastery. He spoke Greek well, and I haven't forgotten Greek yet, so we had quite pleasant conversations with him. By the way, it is easiest to talk in a foreign language with a foreigner for whom this language is not native. Russian in English - with a German, for example. So it happened this time.

He asked me about life in Moscow, about my work, and I, slightly boasting, said: “I am proud that last year I published three books.” The monk smiled and said, “Congratulations! Three books is great! However, it is not good to be proud. Be proud, my son, do not. Pride is the number one mortal sin on the list of St. Gregory the Great.”

I asked: “What should I do, my father, if I rejoice in my success?” – “Rejoice! he answered. “But the best thing is to humbly thank God. But don't be proud! For this is sinful!”

This is where my readers will certainly say: “Well, what are you doing! Sin is pride! And pride is a legitimate and glorious feeling.” Alas, this is not entirely true, or rather, not at all, but we will talk about this a little later.

In the meantime, back to my conversation with the librarian monk.

Opening the cupboard and running his finger over the book spines, he said: "If you want, my son, I will show you one ancient spiritual story, just about pride." I nodded, of course. He took a weighty volume off the shelf, sat down on a worn wooden bench, invited me to sit next to him, and opened the book with that special crunch that old parchment manuscripts open. I saw incomprehensible squiggles of Coptic writing, but the monk began to translate into Greek directly from the sheet:

The Tale of Aglaya and Agnia. When the pious emperor Heraclius banned lupanaria, that is, brothels, the owners immediately converted them into hotels. They accepted travelers, but secretly hunted with their former craft. In one of these establishments in Alexandria there was a girl named Aglaya, which means "brilliant, luxurious." She was beautiful in face, slender, white-bodied, with magnificent golden hair. But she was not only engaged in a vicious craft. She was vicious and evil in her soul. She gossiped and slandered, fawned over the mistress, beat the maids who washed the floor and cooked food, and strove to rip off money from the client beyond the agreement. In the market, where the hostess sent her, she would suddenly wink impudently at some respectable citizen - so that his wife, walking beside him, would certainly see it.

One day a handsome young monk arrived at their inn. He rented a room for one night. Aglaya, under the guise of a maid, brought him bread, figs and wine - and alas! The monk could not resist her, and she, having seduced him, stole a large purse of gold coins from under his pillow. I gave some of the coins to the hostess, gave some to my friends, and for the rest I bought myself a bracelet with precious stones.

A month later, when she went to the market, she saw a small crowd of prisoners in chains on the square: the head of the guard allowed them to rest. Out of curiosity, Aglaya came closer and saw that sitting on a stone - in rags, with a shaved head, with an iron chain on his hands and feet - the same young monk whom she first seduced and then robbed.

Aglaya, covering herself with a scarf to her very eyes, asked him: “I can see by your face, by your hands: you are from a noble class. What have you done that you walk in chains next to thieves and robbers? He replied: “I was a monk, I was taking a lot of money to my monastery, but in the hotel I lost my monastic purity and all the gold. The abbot expelled me from the community and handed me over to the hands of worldly power, like an ordinary thief. "Oh, what an evil fate!" Aglaya sighed. But the prisoner calmly added: "This is not fate, but my weakness and your evil, do not hide your face, I recognized you." Then Aglaya took off the bracelet with precious stones from her hand and handed it to him: “Give it to the head of the guard, and he will ease your lot.” “Don't, I have sinned, and I must bear the punishment,” the prisoner replied. "Forgive me!" Aglaya said. “God will forgive,” he said.

Aglaya did not return to the hotel, but went to a nearby monastery, where she became a novice. She told the abbess about her life, and she appointed her a severe obedience - to become a servant in the very hotel where she had previously practiced her sinful craft. Aglaya had to endure many humiliations from her friends and maids, who took revenge on her - formerly the first beauty, and now the last scrubber. But Aglaya humbly endured all the bullying and beatings and dreamed only of being tonsured, that is, she wanted to become a real nun.A few more months, or maybe even years, passed, when suddenly Aglaya saw that a tall wagon had stopped in front of their hotel. From there, two young handsome monks came out and helped some high-ranking cleric descend to earth - this was evidenced by his patterned riza, a golden pectoral cross and a kamilavka on his head. Aglaya saw with amazement that it was the same former prisoner. Servant friends said that this was a certain monk who either lost or squandered the monastery money, was excommunicated and sentenced to hard labor, like a thief. But his wealthy relatives collected the necessary amount for the monastery, petitioned the emperor and the patriarch. He was pardoned, returned to the bosom of the church, and now he is almost a bishop.

Aglaya was angry in her heart. So, he was forgiven, he again sits on soft pillows, rides in carriages - and she washes the floors here? Therefore, at night she seduced these two monks, and in the morning through a narrow window she entered the locked room where the bishop slept. Naked, she stood before the bed and lit a candle.

“Aglaya, cover your body, don't bother seducing me,” he said. “You deprived the purity of my companions, young monks, but I forgive you this little sin.” "Little?" she laughed. “Small compared to the great sin of pride that has seized your soul! he explained. - After all, you seduced me not because of money, and not even out of lust, but out of pride. You wanted to become higher than a monk, stronger than his vows. You offered me a precious bracelet not out of kindness, but out of pride - you wanted to rise in my eyes. Finally, you went to the monastery not out of repentance, but again out of pride - that's what I am! What you have done so far is proof of that. You again want to become above laws and regulations. Subdue your pride, Aglaya! Won key. Open the door and leave." Having said this, he closed his eyes and fell asleep peacefully.

Aglaya thought a lot about the words of the bishop and realized that he had told the truth. Returning to the monastery, she took the haircut under the name Agnia, which means "pure, immaculate." In the monastery, she amazed everyone with the severity of fasting and diligence in prayer. In addition, she perfectly conducted the monastery economy. Therefore, the abbess made her her closest assistant, and departing to God, bequeathed to the sisters to obey Mother Agnia in everything. So she became the abbess of this convent. She comforted the afflicted, healed the sick, helped the poor, instructed the doubters. Her fame grew, from all over the country widows, poor brides, orphan girls came to her, and everyone received relief and enlightenment.

One day, Mother Agnia gathered for the feast of Epiphany in the main temple of Alexandria. Accompanied by a whole retinue of nuns from her monastery, she entered the temple and stood modestly on the left side. The Metropolitan of this city served. Walking around the people, he saw her and suddenly wept bitterly. He approached Agnia, hugged her and said: “Sin, mother! You are still the same! You are incorrigible!" "But why, my father?" “Look at your retinue, at your attire, at your expensive rosary, at your stern face ... Pride, fried on pride, salted with pride! - and, bringing his face close to her, he whispered in her very ear: - Yes, one kiss of yours, which you used to give for nothing to a passing soldier, is dearer to God than all these tricks with proud self-humiliation and thrice proud abbess! He crossed her, waved the censer and went on.

Agnia was convinced that it was not a monk, not a prisoner, not a bishop and not a metropolitan, but an angel of God sent to her for testing and instruction.

Therefore, she left the temple, went into that very hotel, took off her monastic robe, cut her braid ... "

The librarian Father Varlaam suddenly fell silent. "What's next?" I asked. “And then we don’t know anything,” and he showed that half of the sheet had been cut out. “Perhaps there was some seductive ending?” I joked awkwardly. “It is possible,” Father Varlaam chuckled in response. “However, I believe that Aglaya-Agnia eventually became a humble laywoman. Traded in the olive oil market. Or served as a cook in the same inn. And lived happily. It says: "Rejoice and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven." Having dealt with the sin of pride, she dealt with the sin of despondency. What is despondency if not a groan of offended pride?

Here it is time to remember about "pride" and "pride". In fact, they are pure synonyms. Like "finger" and "finger", like "cheeks" and "cheeks". Look here:

“Pride [pride; Greek ὑπερηφανία; lat. superbia], in Christianity one of the main human vices. St. John Cassian sees the beginning of this evil in vanity, from which, if it becomes "excessive", "the passion of pride is born." “Pride,” according to St. John of the Ladder, “is the extreme misery of the soul.”

(c) Orthodox Encyclopedia, edited by Patriarch Kirill of Moscow and All Russia.

Therefore, attempts to separate “good pride” from “bad pride” are a manifestation of the same vice, it is an attempt to single out some special corner where one could be calmly proud - that is, consider oneself better, higher, stronger than others. And this is not only sinful, but also dangerous.

Punishment for pride can overtake an individual, and a social stratum, and the state. It can “fly” even to humanity as a whole, over borders and classes - it seems to me that COVID-19 is an example of this - terrible, but, I'm afraid, not the last.

The author expresses his personal opinion, which may not coincide with the position of the editors.

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