Arise, sons of the Son of God! Arise, for the merciful sun too has arisen and begun unsparingly to pour its light over the dark fields of the earth. It has arisen to free you from torpor and from the fear of dreams.
Upon the sun your yesterday's sins are not inscribed; the sun does not remember, bears no grudge for anything. On its face there are no wrinkles from your brow, no sorrow, no envy, no grief. Its joy is in giving; its youth — its renewal of youth — is in serving. Blessed are those who serve, for they shall not grow old.
What — if the sun were to follow your example, my neighbors? How little light it would send to the earth, O you misers. How bloody its light would be, O you murderers. How green it would turn, beholding suns greater than itself, O you enviers. How red it would turn, hearing blasphemies from below, O you wrathful. How yellow it would turn with craving for the beauty of the stars, O you lustful. How pale it would grow with fear, lest someone bar its path, O you cowards. How dark it would grow with worry, O you worried, much-worried ones. How wrinkled and old it would grow, feeding on yesterday's evil, O you grudge-bearers. How cold it would grow, and die, and encircle the whole universe with its death, O you preachers of death.
O what happiness for the world, that the sun will never follow your example, sons and daughters of the earth.
Behold, the sun does not know many things, as you do, but it knows two things eternally: that it is a servant and that it is a sign. That it is the servant of Him who kindled it; and that it is the sign of Him who set it to His own service.
Be you also servants of Him who illumines you with the sun from without and with Himself from within, and you will taste the sweetness of eternal youth.
Be you also a sign of Him who has set you among the beasts of the earth, and you will surpass the brilliance of the sun. Truly, all the beasts around you will swim in happiness beneath the rays of your goodness, as moons swim around suns.
But what is the sun, and all the stars, but mounds of ashes, through which Thou shinest, O Son of God? Mounds of ashes, that temper Thy brilliance and sift it through themselves as through a dense sieve? For behold, in Thy full brilliance nothing would be seen but Thee, just as in utter darkness nothing is seen but darkness.
O Lord, O Lord, scorch us not with Thy brilliance, unbearable to our eyes, and leave us not in the half-darkness, wherein one grows old and rots.
Thou alone knowest the measure of our needs, O Lord — glory to Thee!