Ascent to Resolution to Abandon Sin

Whether grace visits someone of its own accord or someone seeks it and finds it – the state into which it places a man in its first action upon him is the same in either case. The one awakened is placed by grace in a middle ground between sin and virtue. It draws him out of the bonds of sin, depriving sin of the power to determine his action, as though by force, but does not transfer him to the side of good; it only gives him to feel its superiority and consolation with a sense of obligation to be on its side. Man now stands as if at a crossroads, and he faces a decisive choice. Saint Makarios of Egypt says that grace coming to him (man) “does not bind his will with constraining force and does not make him unchanging in good, whether he wishes it or not. On the contrary, the divine power present in man gives place to freedom, so that the will of man may be revealed, whether it agrees with grace or not” (Discourse 1. On Guarding the Heart, Ch. 12). From this moment begins the union of freedom with grace. Grace worked from without – and it remains without. It enters within and begins to possess parts of the spirit in no other way than when man by his desire opens it an entrance into himself, or opens his mouth to receive it. If man desires it – grace is ready with help. Man himself cannot do or confirm good in himself, but desires it and strains; and for this deed, grace strengthens in man the desired good. Everything will proceed thus until man’s ultimate victory over himself for the purpose of good and pleasing God.

All that one must do in this labor over oneself, or how to come to resolution, is the same as ordinarily happens when we resolve on some deed or undertaking. Ordinarily, after a thought to do something is born, we incline toward that thought with desire, remove hindrances, and resolve. So too in resolution on Christian life, one must: a) incline toward it with desire, b) remove obstacles within the formation of resolution, and c) resolve. Although the action of grace places the spirit in an awakened state, still, grace’s prompting to change life is only a thought, though more or less living: “Should I not abandon sin?” or “I must abandon it.” One awakened from sleep sees that it is time and he must rise, but to rise he must exert special efforts, make special movements with different parts of his body. He strains his muscles, throws off what covers him, and rises.

So, having felt gracious awakening in yourself, hasten to incline your will toward its demands; agree with its prompting that you, answerable before God and unclean, must absolutely reform yourself and start this right now.

One who sought gracious help and now feels its visitation should have such a desire – it has already guided him in all the labors indicated; but to its composition, or to its perfection, something is added here. There is mental desire: the mind demands, and man compels himself; such desire directs the preparatory labors. There is heartfelt desire; it is born under the action of gracious awakening. There is, finally, active desire – the agreement of will to right now begin the work of rising from falls; it must be formed now, after gracious awakening. And this is the first deed of one awakened after the awakening.

That not every awakened person proceeds to the work of changing life for the better is known to everyone, just as not every person awakened from sleep immediately rises, but sometimes falls asleep several more times.

Gracious awakening, on the one hand, places a man in a favorable and living state, and on the other presents demands that are quite constraining. Whoever now inclines more to the first side can allow himself flights of thought and prematurely surrender to the joy of life, as though everything he should have is already his. This indulgence allowed to himself does not give him a chance to turn proper attention to what has happened, and the inner scattering that accompanies it will soon chill – and the favorable time and state are missed. Again the usual dullness sets in, in which you cannot master yourself. Whoever, on the contrary, inclines more to the second side, can allow himself to free himself somewhat from this constraint, like a child removing a bandage from a wound with healing plaster simply because it is tight. In this, some, to disperse what seem to them gloomy thoughts, turn to what seem to be innocent diversions, conversations, reading, while another subjects the born tormenting feeling to examination, in order to discover why and how it could have formed. There – external impressions, while here the dissolving action of examination erases the saving change that has occurred within. From this, he too finally lapses into the usual, immobile dullness.

It seems it should not happen, but it does, because gracious awakenings are found in different degrees, and the circumstances in which they come can be such that they overshadow the importance and value of their appearing within. Wise grace permits this, testing the free will of man. That is why we say: as soon as you felt the grace of awakening, recognized that it is it and not something else, hasten to incline your will toward its promptings. And for this:

Believe with simplicity of heart that this is from God, that God Himself is calling you to Himself, that He Himself has drawn near to you to produce in you a saving change.

Believing, do not allow yourself to let this action of God’s mercy pass fruitlessly. Only this awakening gives strength to overcome yourself. If it passes away – you cannot overcome yourself alone. And will it come again – you cannot say. Perhaps this compassion is appearing to you for the last time. After it you will fall into a state of hardening, and from that – into despair and hopelessness.

Make effort and strain as much as possible to keep yourself in that saving state into which you have been placed. Like combustible matter, if held long before fire, not only becomes warm but can also catch fire, so naturally can the desire for a gracious life catch fire if you hold yourself longer under the action of grace.

Therefore, set aside everything that could extinguish this fledgling spark, and surround yourself with everything that can feed it and bring it to flame. Withdraw into solitude, pray, and reflect with yourself on what to do. That order of life, occupations and labors which has already been indicated and which you have forced yourself to practice while seeking grace, is the most favorable for prolonging its begun action in yourself. The best of them in this case are solitude, prayer, and reflection. Solitude will be more gathered, prayer deeper, and reflection more effective. Reason with yourself, go through all the thoughts which you previously gathered, trying to dispel blindness, insensibility, and negligence. Let there be no more these three now, but you must kindle desire, begin the deed right now. Direct all your action to this. Now your reasoning with yourself will not be as it was before. Without awakening it ordinarily turns to generalities; now, on the contrary, mirroring grace and under its guidance, it will apply everything directly to you yourself, without any excuses or evasions, will turn the objects to you from the sides most able to act upon you. Therefore, properly speaking, you will not so much reason in this case as pass from feeling to feeling.

In this very labor of yours over yourself with the help of grace, will finally be pronounced in your heart, audible to God alone and to you, the word: “It is necessary at last; so, I will begin right now.” It is evident that this is a conclusion; but by what laws and from what premises it is derived, no science can determine. All the objects of the preceding reasonings can be known clearly, yet the conclusion may not be there. It even happens that someone presents these objects in speech so powerfully that the effect of them brings tens and hundreds to that conclusion, while he himself does not pronounce it in his heart. And no one can say who is acting here – grace or freedom, for it happens that gracious action passes without effect and all efforts of freedom remain barren. Each combines in a manner incomprehensible to us, yet each preserves its nature. One can say thus: freedom surrenders itself, grace receives and penetrates it. From this – the power of the desire: “So, right now to work.”

Now, at last, a man has inclined toward good, is ready to enter upon this holy path, ready to walk in good works of pleasing God; but at this very moment all the abyss of evil lurking in his heart rises up, like dust, and strives again to cover his whole soul. In the moment of awakening and inclination sin is silent, as though what is happening to a man does not concern it; but now, when they want to trample upon it, it, the thousand-headed, as Saint John of the Ladder calls it, utters thousands of cries upon a man who is planning this. Just as one awakened, so long as he is still only thinking of rising, – everything in his body is calm. But as soon as he determines to rise in deed and barely strains his muscles – all the pains in his body, which had not troubled him before, now make themselves known and raise complaints. So too in one inclined toward the gracious call, the pains of sin are silent while he reaches this inclination, but as soon as he determines to proceed to the deed, all these infirmities raise an alarm – loud and confusing. Thought after thought, impulse after impulse strike the poor man and pull him back, attacking without order, embracing his soul from all sides and plunging it into their turmoil. All that is good in a man is held as if by a thread and he himself is at every moment ready to tear himself away from what he holds by and sink again into that same realm from which he wished to come out. One thing saves him – that sweetness, ease, and consolation which he was granted to taste in the moment of awakening, and that strength which he felt when he spoke in his heart: “So, I will begin right now.” Whoever has seen a small spark fluttering here and there in smoke, yet still standing for itself as it were, or a small piece of wood thrown into a churning stream, now up, now down, now right, now left, has in this image that which happens at this moment to the good desire of a man. Not in the soul alone is turmoil, but even the blood churns, there can even be a ringing in the ears and a fog in the eyes. It is easy to understand that this uprising is not from sin alone living in the heart, but especially from the father of all sins – the devil, who cannot remain calm when such a disturber appears in his kingdom. Saint Tikhon says: “When a sinner, moved by God’s grace, begins to repent, he meets various temptations. A man begins to approach Christ, but Satan pursues him and draws him away from Christ, trips him and spreads various nets.” We are told of apparitions – both fearful and delusory – which those seeking a certain flower for finding treasures encounter; this psychological myth best portrays all the efforts of the devil to draw a man away from good intention to purchase the pearl of great price or find a treasure hidden in a field.

Here there lies before a man a mighty struggle with himself, as if a general battle with sin. Here he must decisively capture and strike his enemy, step upon this serpent, bind him and exhaust all his strength. On success in overcoming sin here is founded the hope and reality of all his subsequent overcomings in his particular risings. All that takes place here cannot be determined because of the diversity of actors. The main, however, points or turns of this combat are not difficult to indicate, more, however, for the aid of the struggling than for the sake of knowledge.

It is evident that in the soul there is no point of support: it wavers, though still whole, not broken in its good intention, helped by God’s grace. And who else will support it, who will establish it? That is why now most of all it must cry out to God urgently, like one drowning cries out. The enemy has seized you and wants to swallow you – cry out as Jonah in the whale’s belly or Peter sinking. The Lord sees your need and labor – and will extend a hand of help, support and establish you as befits a warrior going forth to battle.

Here is the support! Most dangerous of all is if the soul thinks to find it in itself; then it will lose everything. Evil will overcome it again, will dim this weak light still in it, will extinguish this barely kindled spark. The soul knows how powerless it is alone; therefore, expecting nothing from itself, let it fall in abasement before God, let it transform itself in its heart into nothing. Then the all-powerful grace will make from this nothing everything in it. Whoever, in ultimate self-abasement, places himself in God’s hand, draws Him to himself, the compassionate One, and becomes strong with His strength.

Despite all this, however, you must not fall from self-abasement into spiritual weakness. While waiting for everything from God and nothing from yourself, you must yourself exert effort in action and act according to your strength, so that there is something for Divine assistance to perfect, something for Divine power to overshadow. Grace is already present, but it will work in response to your own active movements, supplementing your weakness with its power. Therefore, having taken firm ground in humble prayerful surrender of yourself to God’s will, act yourself, without relaxing.

Act against sin in general, but especially against its root causes. When all is in turmoil in the soul, and thoughts like phantoms stand and surround it, showering arrows at the very heart, it is easy to notice the chief sources of evil, so to speak. Behind the multitude of individual warriors stand there, in the rear, the commanders who issue orders, directing all arrangements and the entire course of the war. These are the root causes of sin. Direct all your attention to them, arm yourself directly against them, overcome them and destroy them. When they are defeated, the lesser warriors will scatter of their own accord.

The Savior indicated what these chief causes and chief defenders of sin are when He called us to follow Him (Mk. 8:34–38). Whoever wishes to follow Me, He said, must “deny yourself”—turn away from yourself, regard yourself as a stranger to yourself, unworthy of attention and sympathy, not worth standing up for. This presupposes that in a sin-loving heart there constantly dwells and operates the opposite disposition: self-pity, and indeed that is what it is. The sinner deals with himself as a mother with a tenderly beloved child: he cannot bear to deny himself anything, to oppose himself in anything; he cannot overcome himself to raise a hand against himself. Further, the Savior commands us to renounce all that is in the world for the salvation of the soul: “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but forfeits his soul?” (Mk. 8:36). The world is the sum of things outside us, the visible, tangible, sensible. Consequently, this command presupposes in the human heart a tendency toward material things, an appetite for the tangible, a passion to nourish and please oneself only with the visible and sensible. And truly, in the sin-lover dwells sensuality: he has no taste for the invisible and spiritual, while all that is sensible is so well-known and so thoroughly experienced. Then the Lord urges us not to be ashamed of Him in this adulterous and sinful generation. This compels us to suppose that in the sin-loving heart there is shame of people at the expense of truth and goodness. And so it is. Usually a person lives bound by the inviolability of the established order or of existing relationships; therefore he fears to disturb them and is ready to compromise truth rather than offend anyone, disrupt the connections, suffer unpleasantness. This is people-pleasing: “What will they say and how can I bear it if I have to break these ties?” This must be the most sensitive bond of sin, for to break it He threatens with shame at the judgment: “Whoever is ashamed of Me and My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will also be ashamed of him when He comes in the glory of His Father with the holy angels” (Mk. 8:38). This concluding turn toward the future age indicates in the sin-loving heart an absence of sense of future life, compels us to suppose that for him that life does not exist, and that he is wholly absorbed in the present life. And so it is. Usually a person lives on earth as if to live here forever, and forgets about the future; he knows only earthly happiness, and all his goals converge in one: to live well here, and what comes after, he gives no thought. Thus self-pity, sensuality, people-pleasing and earthliness (concern only for life on earth) are the characteristic marks of the sin-loving heart—consequently, the root causes of sin and its chief defenders. We ourselves, sinners, could never uncover these, and if the Savior had not revealed them, certainly we would not know them. Now that they are revealed, it is clear that it must be so. Man, having fallen from God, turned to himself and is punished with self-pity: this flows from the chief nature of the fall. The fallen man was torn asunder in himself, descended from spirit into flesh and is tormented by sensuality. The chief arena where sin reveals and rages is human society with its sinful people and such orders and relationships among them as nourish and sustain sin. When all goes well in these conditions of sin—that is happiness. But since such a course of affairs can only be in this age, while the future age requires something entirely different, there is no thought of it—it does not fit in the mind and finds even less sympathy in the heart.

Thus these roots of sins show themselves as the causes of all the thoughts rising up against a man when he makes a move from the realm of sin toward the side of good, they raise a whole swarm of tempting thoughts that confuse, terrify and obstruct. Self-pity cries out: “What kind of life is this? Ahead I see only labor, hardship, sorrow, deprivations with no end in sight; go as among thorns on prickly bushes with bare feet—constant wounding!” Sensuality speaks: “Abandon this thing and that, stop doing this and that—in short, all the things I enjoyed, and occupy yourself only with the spiritual! That is abstract, dry, unsatisfying, lifeless.” “What will they say? They will think it strange and shun you; meanwhile, you must break these bonds—how can you manage after? And from this side expect enmity too.” This is the cry of people-pleasing. And there is the cry of earthliness: “The future, of course, will come—who argues against that—but it is still far off, and how to live now? Others have lived… We know the earthly, but what about there? That is uncertain, but this is at hand.”

Yes, as soon as a man begins to serve the Lord, all this will cry out at him. And if only these were light thoughts—but no: they penetrate to the depths of the soul, wound and draw it toward themselves as if someone had hooked living flesh with a barb and is pulling it. What is a man to do?

Help is near. You need only make efforts—and you will overcome, but make your efforts wisely. Having prayerfully established yourself, as has been said, in humble surrender of yourself to God’s will and to the all-working grace:

Hurry to drive all these thoughts from your soul, expel them from consciousness by special exertion of your will, push them back into the hidden place from which they came and restore peace to your heart, for while the heart is not at peace, you cannot accomplish anything further. For this, at first, do not occupy yourself with them at all and do not enter into conversation with them, even if it is not peaceful. A crowd of uneducated people quickly scatters if you treat them harshly from the start; if you speak a sympathetic word to one, then another, then a third—they become emboldened and persist in their demands. So it is with the crowd of tempting thoughts: they become more insistent if you allow them to linger in the soul at all, and especially if you enter into negotiations with them. But if you thrust them back firmly from the first moment with strong exertion of will, rejection, and turning to God, they will immediately depart and leave the atmosphere of the soul pure.

But let this dark host of evil thoughts be driven away, let the heart be at peace again and the soul grow light; remember that you have actually done nothing yet for your own purposes. These enemies are still alive. They are only expelled from awareness and perhaps deliberately hiding, waiting for a favorable moment to return and reclaim their victory by surprise. No, you must not stop here, otherwise there will be neither peace nor progress. They must be put to death, drawn out and slaughtered on the altar of self-denial.

Therefore, having again established yourself in prayerful surrender to God and to His grace, call forth each of the root causes of sin and strive to turn your heart away from them and toward the opposite—thereby they will be cut off from your heart and must wither. For this, give freedom to sound judgment, and lead your heart after it. Your judgment, illumined by truth and aided covertly by working grace: let it first present all the deformity of these, one might say, offspring of hell; you must then compel your heart to feel aversion toward them; then let it more vividly present the danger into which they plunge you, let it show them as your bitterest enemies; you must stir your heart to feel hatred toward them; then let it fully present before you all the beauty and sweetness of the life which they prevent you from entering, all the charm of freedom from these tyrants; you must then press your heart, which has already conceived aversion and hatred toward them, to strive toward these good things as a deer toward the springs of water. By this the goal will be achieved. A short program, but the work will be accomplished, perhaps not quickly. Here are marked only the directions toward which judgment must turn; the thread of judgment itself—to lead and complete it you must do yourself; to your own judgment is evident the effective and powerful thought in one or another aspect. Know, however, that judgment is the lever, but the work is in the heart’s turnings. One might say that as soon as the indicated turnings occur in the heart, we have reached the goal.

This work is the most essential in the turning of the will. You must undertake it energetically and not give up until your heart reaches, in these turnings, the final limits; and these final limits are feelings opposite to sinful impulses—dispositions contrary to the root demands of sin. Thus you must labor over yourself until instead of self-pity there is born harshness toward yourself and mercilessness, until you feel a thirst for suffering, a desire to torment yourself, to exhaust both body and soul; until instead of people-pleasing there arises on one side aversion from all base customs and ties, a kind of hostile, angry resistance to them, and on the other side readiness to accept all injustice and all human insults; until instead of taste only in material, sensible, visible things comes distaste for them and loathing, and there begins a seeking and longing for only the spiritual, pure, Divine; until instead of earthliness, confining life and happiness to earth, your heart is filled with the feeling of pilgrimage on earth, with sole striving toward the heavenly homeland.

When such dispositions are formed, then all the supports of sin will be undermined. It will lose the firmness and determining power, which now passes to man himself. Sin is cast out, it has become external. From this moment it will be tempting but not determining. And every time it is enough to set in motion the contrary feelings you have now acquired in order to repel it. From this it is clear how great is the importance of the work now described: by it a new person is formed within us, with decisive aversion from evil and direction toward good—the turning of the will is accomplished, as a result of which everything in us must take on a new order.

Behold, a man now stands at the very edge of the realm of sin; nothing separates him from the land of light, freedom and blessedness. The bonds have fallen, peace is on the soul; it is ready to soar to God. But the enemy’s cunning has not been exhausted. He still has one arrow, which he has kept for the last moment. Just as the soul strains to take the final step out of the realm of self-indulgent sin, it is struck by an insidious cry: “Just one more day, and that will be enough; tomorrow you will cross this boundary.” Whether because in the previous struggle the soul grows weary and demands rest, or whether it is the law of sin that operates, only this voice is heard. Here there is no opposition to good, only a request—to ease somewhat the tension you have gained. This cry is most seductive: the enemy seems to stand for us, begs us to have pity on ourselves, but lean ever so little to this cry, to this suggestion, and you lose all you have gained. By secret paths those expelled causes of sin will creep to the heart, commit their betrayal unknown to you—and will weaken and undo all that was planned, so that, coming to yourself, you see yourself back on the old line, as if you had attempted nothing to work on yourself. Coldness, numbness and immobility overwhelm you again; you must begin all over what seemed already to be accomplished. Therefore do not despise this small seeming request: it is small and trivial in appearance, but in fact it is the foundation of all evil, a seductive representation of bondage in the guise of freedom, flattering friendship concealing an implacable enemy. Hate it with all your hatred, and as soon as you notice it—and it flies quickly like lightning—hasten to erase its traces so that not even a mark remains. Restore yourself to the state you were in before this, and in the same inner and outer effort resolve to hold yourself forever. Having defeated this enemy too, you will remain the decisive victor, having taken yourself in hand; you will become your own complete master.

Thus, after grace has been awakened, the first task belongs to human freedom—the movement toward yourself, which it accomplishes in three acts: it inclines toward the side of good—chooses it; it removes obstacles, breaks the bonds holding man in sin, casting out from the heart self-pity, people-pleasing, inclination toward the sensual and earthliness and in their place awakening harshness toward yourself, distaste for the sensual, acceptance of all shame, and transplanting your heart to the future age with the feeling of pilgrimage here; finally, it is immediately inspired to enter upon the good path, yielding nothing to yourself but maintaining yourself in constant tension. Thus all grows quiet in the soul. The one who has been stirred, having freed himself from all bonds, with full readiness says to himself: “I will rise and go”.

From this moment begins the other movement of the soul toward God. Having overcome yourself, having mastered all the impulses of your movements, having regained your freedom, you must now offer yourself entirely as a sacrifice to God. This means the work is still only half-done.