Martyrs of the true faith, pray to God for us. Your faith has brought you near to the shining throne of glory, adorned with radiant Seraphim and most mighty Cherubim. You are closer to immortality than we, and your prayer is purer and more clearly heard.
Remember us also in your prayer, that you too may be noised abroad still more throughout heaven. Carry us also upon yourselves, and you will fly swifter and easier to the throne of glory. He who carries only himself walks more lightly, and stumbles more. The greater the burden of your brethren you haul, the swifter you fly.
I said to men: all of you are martyrs, but not all of one martyrdom. Martyrs for the true faith are not the same as martyrs for a false faith. Truly, even their bones differ, and not only the soul. For the soul transmits its power and its powerlessness even to the bones.
You who suffer for the true faith, suffer for what your spiritual sight sees. You who suffer for a false faith, suffer for what your bodily eyes see. You, the first, suffer for faith in waking reality and truth; you, the second, suffer for a dream and a phantom.
Spiritual sight has called its knowledge by a humble name — faith. The bodily eyes have called their faith by a proud name — knowledge. Both the one and the other are vision; the first: a vision of the still and dazzling essence of things; the second: a vision of the flickering of that essence through the darkness.
Of all things the most inescapable is your martyrdom, sons of heaven and sons of earth. Your torment consists in your fleeing. Either you flee from darkness toward the light, or from the light toward darkness. If you flee from darkness toward the light, you will stir up the world against you. If you flee from the light toward darkness, Heaven will withdraw from your convulsions and your ruin.
The paths of the sons of men cross one another, and conflict is inescapable. For some walk toward the East and others toward the West. The Lord is merciful, and sends His angels to all.
My soul is full of martyrs, like a fruitful field of wheat and tares. Some are turned toward the East and others toward the West.
I whisper to my soul at midnight: how long will you be crucified between paradise and hell? Collect yourself, and set out where the martyrs of the true faith have walked.
I whisper to my neighbor at dawn: do not take the road too well trodden, for many corpses stink around it. Let us go by the path up the mountain, which is steep but does not reek of corpses.
I whisper morning and evening to you, martyrs of the true faith: pray to God for us.