A Homily on the Various States of Human Nature in Relation to Good and Evil (Part 1)
1. Introduction
The follower of Christ, in order to judge himself rightly and to act correctly with regard to himself, has a necessary need for a right understanding of his own nature. A true thought is the source of all good things; a false thought is the source of erroneous activity and those fruits which must necessarily arise from it. If we see monasticism not crowned with spiritual fruits, or crowned with fruits of self-deception, we must know that the cause of this was a false direction, a false starting point for the activity. Alas! Not infrequently the eye of the mind is struck by a sad sight that stirs the heart to bitter tears. What can be sadder than the sight when a monk, having spent his life in the bosom of the holy monastery, in ceaseless service to God, in continuous struggle, sees, upon an unbiased look at himself, his decisive fruitlessness, sees in himself grown and strengthened various passions which, upon his entry into monastic life, were very weak, almost ineffectual? What can be sadder than the sight when he sees the same thing in his brother monks as well? All the sadder is this sight because the turning around and correction of oneself becomes at a certain age and in a certain state very difficult. It is a great and blessed deed—when we magnify Christ in ourselves. It is great misfortune—a misfortune consisting of alienation from God both in time and in eternity—when we develop in ourselves our fallen self.
2. The States of Human Nature in Relation to Good and Evil—Three
In order to avoid the great misfortune—alienation from God both in time and in eternity—let us enter upon the paths that are right and holy. In order to attain proper Christian activity, with clarity let us study human nature in its three states: in the state after creation, in the state after the fall, in the state after redemption.[1] Only then can the activity of the Christian be proper, soul-saving, and pleasing to God, when he acts or strives to act exclusively according to the laws of human nature renewed.
3. Concerning the State of Human Nature in Relation to Good and Evil, After Man’s Creation
In the state after creation, human nature was entirely free from evil. In it dwelt and acted one whole good. Mankind had no experiential understanding of evil. It knew only that evil exists, that experiential knowledge of evil is destructive for mankind (Gen. 2:9, 17, 3:2). Theoretical, superficial knowledge of evil could have no harmful influence on human nature, as knowledge that was lifeless, equal to non-knowledge in relation to the internal and external activity of man. Man’s fall was accomplished through active, experiential knowledge of evil; man’s fall consists in active, experiential knowledge of evil, in the assimilation of evil to oneself. Thus theoretical knowledge of poison does not cause death; on the contrary, it prevents it; practical knowledge of poison—that is, the tasting of it—brings death.
4. Concerning the State After Man’s Fall
In fallen human nature good is mixed with evil. The evil that has come into man has become so mixed and fused with man’s natural good that the natural good can never act separately without evil acting together with it. Man, by the tasting of sin—that is, by experiential knowledge of evil—is poisoned. The poison has penetrated into all members of the body, into all powers and properties of the soul: both body and heart and mind are affected by the disease of sin. Harmfully flattering themselves and deceiving themselves, fallen men call and recognize their reason as sound. Reason was sound before the fall; after the fall, for all men without exception, it became false-named, and for salvation must be rejected (1 Tim. 6:20–21). “You are the light of my eyes, yet they are not with me” (Ps. 37:11), Scripture says of the reason of fallen nature. Harmfully flattering themselves and deceiving themselves, fallen men call and recognize their heart as good: it was good before the fall; after the fall its good has become mixed with evil, and for salvation must be rejected as defiled. The heart-knowing God has called all men evil (Lk. 11:13). From the sinful contagion all in man has come into disorder; all acts improperly; all acts under the influence of falsehood and self-deception. Thus his will acts; thus all his heartfelt feelings act; thus all his thoughts act. It is vain and futile that fallen and blinded mankind names them as good, fine, and lofty! Deep is our fall: very few men are aware of themselves as fallen beings needing a Saviour; the majority looks upon its condition of fall as a condition of complete triumph, employs all efforts to establish and develop its condition of fall.
The separation by one’s own efforts of the evil that has come from natural good has become impossible for man. Evil has penetrated into the very beginning of man: man is conceived in iniquities, is born in sins (Ps. 50:7). From the moment of his birth, man has not a single deed, not a single word, not a single thought, not a single feeling, for not even the shortest moment, in which good is without greater or lesser admixture of evil. This is witnessed by Holy Scripture, which says of fallen men that among them “no one is righteous, not even one; all have become worthless. There is no one who shows kindness, not even one” (Rom. 3:10–12). Pointing to his fallen nature, the holy Apostle Paul says: “I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh” (Rom. 7:18). Here by the name flesh the Apostle understands not properly the human body, but the fleshly state of the whole man: his mind, heart, and body. And in the Old Testament the whole man is called flesh: “My spirit shall not abide in mortals forever, for they are flesh” (Gen. 6:3), said God. In this fleshly state, as in its body, dwell sin and eternal death. The Apostle calls the fleshly state the body of death (Rom. 7:24), the body of sin (Rom. 6:6). This state is called flesh and body, body of death and sin, for the reason that in it the thought and heart, which ought to strive for the spiritual and holy, are directed and fastened to nothing but the material and sinful, live in matter and sin. The human body of the Apostle, as all know, was a temple of the Holy Spirit, was permeated with Divine grace, and poured forth from itself the actions of Divine grace (Acts 19:12). To it cannot apply the expressions so truly applicable to the fleshly state into which human nature has been cast by the fall: “Those who are in the flesh cannot please God” (Rom. 8:8), “The body of sin might be destroyed” (Rom. 6:6), “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” (Rom. 7:24).
Excellently does the Apostle describe the admixture of good with evil in the fallen man left to his own efforts to do good, whereby of necessity evil penetrates from his nature, corrupts his good, and casts down the designs of the mind vainly attempting to introduce true service of God into the temple of the soul. “The law is spiritual; but I am of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin. I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but the sin that dwells within me. So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” (Rom. 7:14–25). By the word flesh here again one must understand the fleshly state, by which all attempts of the human mind to fulfill God’s will are cast down, so long as man remains in the state of fall, so long as he is not renewed by the Spirit: the Spirit, having dwelt in man, frees him from sinful slavery (Rom. 8:14), destroying the body of sin (Rom. 6:6)—that is, the fleshly state in man. Thus one must understand also the words of the Apostle: “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God” (1 Cor. 15:50). Here by the name of flesh and blood are understood the thoughts and feelings born in fallen nature, keeping man in a fleshly state as to his mind, heart, and body. This state is also called the “old man” (Eph. 4:22), whom the Apostle commands the Christian to put off and to clothe himself “with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Eph. 4:23–24). This is the same thing he said in the letter to the Romans: “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 13:14), and to the Corinthians:[2] “We will bear the image of the man of heaven” (1 Cor. 15:49[3]). It is known that the Apostle was renewed by the Spirit and clothed in Christ; illumined by the Spirit and moved by love for his neighbors, he pronounced from the mouth of fallen man struggling to break the chains of sin, a confession of the state produced by the fall, a state in which man, forced by the evil dwelling in him, cannot but commit evil, although he wished to commit good. Such a vision of human fall is a gift of God’s grace.
In the society of fallen humanity some people are called good. They are called thus incorrectly, relatively. In this society a good man is called one who does the least evil, and an evil man is called one who does the least good. However, an evil man may progress so far in evil that his entire activity becomes an uninterrupted series of misdeeds. In the precise sense, there is no good man. There is no man who in his fallen state does pure good not defiled by evil: “No one is good but God alone” (Mk. 10:18), says God’s Word. It recognizes and calls all men “evil” (Lk. 11:13), as has been said above. The Old Testament righteous were called righteous solely in relation to other men (Rom. 4:2–3; Job 1:8), not in relation to God. In relation to God all fallen humanity without exception has become unworthy of God; all deeds of a nature corrupted by the fall have become unpleasing to God, as defiled by inseparable admixture of evil. Only faith in the promised Redeemer, demonstrated by deeds of faith, made the Old Testament righteous acceptable to God, was counted to them as righteousness (Rom. 4:2–8; Gal. 2:18–26), provided hope of salvation, hope of departure from the dungeons of Hades, into which all human souls without exception were cast upon separation from their bodies, until God incarnate shattered the bolts and gates of Hades.
Furthermore, it is not merely that sin has become, through the fall, as though natural to man, so inherent in him that Scripture called sin the soul of man (Mt. 10:39), that renunciation of sin became renunciation of oneself (Mt. 16:24); the fallen man took within himself the one who seduced him—Satan—and became the dwelling place of Satan.[4] “In some manner,” says the Venerable Macarius the Great, “the enemy himself dwells within us, struggling, capturing us.” This is by no means a voluntary judgment and not a dream, but experiential knowledge obtained by those who, as the same righteous one of God says, sincerely committed themselves to the Lord, firmly remained in prayer, and unshakably resisted their warring enemy.[5]
Such experiential knowledge of human fall is inaccessible to the Christian living in the midst of the world, bound by cares, and turned away from self-examination by continuous distraction. Our word is not directed to him. Let him earn his salvation through good deeds in the bosom of the Orthodox Church, especially through almsgiving and chastity. We speak with monks who have entirely committed themselves to the service of God, desiring to see the Kingdom of God opened in themselves in power and glory. An immutable spiritual law of monasticism requires that man first break the bonds of matter by which he is bound externally, and then move to breaking those bonds by which he is bound in the depth of his mind and heart by spirits of evil. “In a twofold manner and with twofold bonds,” says the holy Macarius the Great, “man found himself bound after transgressing the commandment and after being cast out of Paradise: (he was bound) in this world by the things of the world and by love for the world—that is, by carnal lusts and passions, by wealth and glory, also by love for creatures, for wife and children, for kinfolk, for homeland, for places, for clothes; in short, by love for all visible things, from which God’s Word commands him to renounce of his own free will (because man enslaves himself to all visible things voluntarily), so that, having loosened and freed himself from all this, he might be able to fulfill God’s will perfectly. Within himself, (the human) soul is bound, enclosed, surrounded by walls and fettered with chains of darkness to such a degree by spirits of evil that it cannot, however much it might wish, love God, believe in Him, and honor Him.” Further, in his discourse, the great righteous one of God and instructor of monks teaches that only those who have cast off the bonds of the world and committed themselves to true and exclusive service to God can discover their captivity, their slavery, their eternal death. On the contrary, whoever did not previously take care to break the bonds laid upon him by matter—that is, by the visible world and earthly temporal life with its position and relations—will never know, will never perceive his captivity and will never see the spirits of evil acting in him.[6] He remains forever a stranger to himself: nourishing hidden passions within himself, not only does he not perceive them, but very often recognizes their urges as urges of righteousness and their action as the action of God’s grace, or as consolation of conscience. Even in monastic life itself, bodily struggle, however great it may be, cannot by itself discover internal bonds and internal misery: spiritual struggle is necessary for this. Bodily struggle not accompanied by spiritual struggle is more harmful than useful; it serves as the cause of an extraordinary intensification of spiritual passions: vanity, hypocrisy, cunning, pride, hatred, envy, conceit. “If internal practice in God does not help man,” said the great Barsanuphius, “then his external labor is in vain.”[7][8]
The following spiritual struggles open for the ascetic his internal captivity, serving as the cause of arousing warfare in thoughts and feelings: 1) true obedience; by it the beginning monk, cutting off for God’s sake his own will and his own opinions for the fulfillment of the will and opinions of the ascetic who has made progress, who has acquired firm obedience to God, will inevitably arouse the opposition of the proud fallen angel, and thereby reveal his presence in himself. If the ascetic is not deceived by the cunning suggestions of the evil one, striving under various pretexts to draw him away from obedience, and remains constant in the struggle, he will arouse to envy and fierce battle the invisible enemy, who will not fail to raise up in the ascetic various sinful fantasies, thoughts, feelings, enticements, and thereby expose evil lurking in extraordinary abundance in the depths of the heart and appearing not to exist at all; 2) reading, study, and fulfillment of the Gospel commandments, which, cutting off active sin, especially destroy sin in the very mind, in the very heart. Fulfillment of these commandments or, more rightly, effort at fulfillment of the commandments, necessarily exposes the sin dwelling within us and arouses fierce inner warfare, in which spirits of evil take the strongest part; 3) dishonors and other sorrows also expose the hidden sin in the depths of the soul. For that reason sorrow is called a trial—because it reveals the hidden state of the heart. Naturally, in a man still under the power of sin, it exposes the sin dwelling in the depths of the soul, which is revealed by heartfelt bitterness, sorrow, thoughts of murmuring, indignation, self-justification, vengeance, hatred. Intensified action of these passions in the soul, a special onslaught and pressure of thoughts and fantasies, serves as an unmistakable sign of the action of the fallen proud spirit; 4) attentive prayer, especially prayer in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, by effort unites the heart with the mind, exposes the serpent nesting in the depths of the heart, and, wounding it, impels it to movement. The Venerable Kallists and Ignatius Xanthopouli in their work on hesychasm and prayer cite the following words of the holy John Chrysostom: “I beseech you, brothers, never to reject or despise the rule of prayer. I once heard fathers saying that not a monk is the one who rejects or despises this rule: but he must—whether eating or drinking, abiding in the cell or occupied in obedience and travel, or doing anything else—unceasingly cry out thus: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, so that the unceasingly remembered name of our Lord Jesus Christ might provoke the enemy to warfare. For a soul under constraint can find everything through such remembrance, both evil and good. First she will see evil in the depths of her heart, and then (hidden in it) good—that is, God’s grace, implanted in each Orthodox Christian through holy Baptism.” Such a state of internal warfare must be borne with evenness of soul, as the Venerable Macarius the Great instructs, with unwavering faith and hope in the Lord, with great patience, awaiting help and the gift of inner freedom from the Lord. Warfare cannot be crowned with victory, and freedom cannot be acquired by man’s own efforts; both are gifts of God, granted to the ascetic in His own time, known to God alone.[9][10]
It is a very great error for those who, being under the power of the passions, to demand dispassion of themselves. With such an incorrect demand of themselves, arising from an incorrect understanding of themselves, they fall into extraordinary confusion when the sin living in them manifests itself in some way. They fall into despondency, into despair. It appears to them, by their incorrect view of themselves, that the manifestation of sin is something unusual, something happening outside the order of things. Meanwhile, the manifestation of sin in thoughts, feelings, words, and deeds (not speaking here of mortal sins or of voluntary sins, but of enticements) is a logical manifestation, natural, necessary. “If a passion troubles us,” says the Venerable Abba Dorotheos, “we should not be disturbed by this: to be disturbed by the passion troubling us is the work of foolishness and pride and comes from not knowing our soul’s state and avoiding labor, as the Fathers have said. Therefore we do not make progress, because we do not know our measure and do not have patience in the deeds we undertake, but wish to acquire virtue without labor. Why does the passionate one marvel when a passion troubles him? Why is he disturbed? You have acquired it, have it in yourself, and you are disturbed! Took into yourself and its pledges, and say: why does it trouble me? Better to bear, struggle, and pray to God.” Rom. 14:22[11]
Those who behold in themselves sin, on account of this beholding, spend all the days of their earthly life in lamentation over their sinfulness, mentally reveal themselves and their wretched state to the Lord and cry out in heartfelt pain: “My eyes are ever toward the Lord, for he will pluck my feet out of the net. Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. Enlarge the desires of my heart. Relieve the troubles of my heart, and bring me out of my distresses. Consider my affliction and my trouble, and forgive all my sins. Consider how many are my foes, and with what violent hatred they hate me. O guard my life, and deliver me” (Ps. 24:15–17; Ps. 21:21–22; Mt. 16:26; 1 Pet. 5:8; Job 2:6), like the soul of Job, your servant, “and deliver me, that I be not ashamed, for I trust in you” Living by this rule, without doubt, he will be worthy to say in his time: “I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God” (Ps. 39:2–4). Truthful is He who gave the promise, trusted by those who are assured in Him and do not turn from trust in Him, despite the prolonged and painful yearning produced in the heart by the violence of sins. He who gave the promise will certainly fulfill it. “Will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night?” testifies the Son of God. “Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them” (Lk. 18:7–8). Here by the word “long-suffering” should be understood God’s permission for man to be tempted, for his benefit, for a certain time, by sin dwelling within man and by spirits of evil. “The prince of this age,” says the holy Macarius the Great, “for those who are infants in spirit is a rod for chastening (admonishing) and a scourge giving wounds; but he, as has been said above, by this prepares great glory and great honor, afflicting and tempting them… Through him some great work of salvation is accomplished, as it has been said somewhere: ‘evil, having as its purpose evil, cooperates toward good.’ For good souls having good intention, even what appears to be sorrowful turns out in the end to be good, as the Apostle himself witnesses: ‘All things work together for good for those who love God’ (Rom. 8:28). This rod of punishment is permitted to act for the purpose that vessels be tested as in a heated furnace, and the good be made more steadfast, while the bad be revealed in their capacity for fracture, not enduring the force of the fire. He—that is, the devil—being a creature and servant of God, tempts not as much as he wishes, does not afflict to the degree he would like, but only as God’s movement allows and permits. God, knowing precisely the state of all and how much strength each possesses, permits each to be tempted only to the extent he has strength. ‘God is faithful,’ says the Apostle, ‘and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it’ (1 Cor. 10:13). The one who seeks and knocks on the door, who asks until the end, will receive what is asked.”[12]