Rules for the Struggle Against the Passions, or the Foundations of Self-Resistance

Remaining in the established order is a powerful and mighty means for eradicating the passions, and for our purification and correction. By remaining in it consciously and freely, a person destroys the passions by setting them aside, by depriving them of nourishment or covering them, like embers under a vessel, by means of the rules shown throughout the full extent of one’s strength and activity. Passions suppressed in this way are extinguished like a candle under a jar. Yet there is no way to restrict oneself to this positive activity alone. Rules are established as healings for the forces that have been corrupted and saturated with passion. With the same power that exists in evil, one must now act in good. Therefore it is impossible not to encounter evil at the very first beginning and at the arising of activity in the first stirring of the forces. If good and evil cannot exist together, and pure good without any admixture of evil is demanded of us, then in every action we must drive out evil in order to begin and accomplish pure good. Thus, in continuous connection with the direct positive activity of the forces, there always stands an indirect activity directed toward driving out evil and the passions arising in them—in other words, the struggle against the passions and desires. The establishment of oneself in the shown ascetical practices and habituation to them is achieved through struggle and warfare, through victory over temptations and pitfalls. Who has fasted without struggling with the belly, or truly believed like a child without overcoming self-will and self-assertion? And this is not in one thing only, but throughout the whole extent of positive activity, beginning from the innermost source to the last outward manifestation in withdrawal from the world. Warfare is everywhere, so that the order shown, while it restores the forces and nature, is at the same time a field for continuous spiritual warfare. Overcome the unnatural in strength, and it will proceed into the natural; drive out and repel evil—and you will see good. Asceticism is unceasing victory.

The possibility, foundation, and condition of all inner victories is the first victory over oneself—in a breaking of the will and in the surrender of oneself to God with hostile rejection of all that is sinful. Here is born dislike for the passions, hatred, hostility—which is the spiritual military force and alone takes the place of an entire army. Where it is not, the enemy holds victory without a struggle; on the contrary, where it is present, victory is often granted to us without warfare. From this we see that just as the starting point of positive activity is our innermost self, so too is it the starting point of warfare, only in the opposite direction. Consciousness and will, the transition to the side of good with love for it, strikes with hatred at every evil and all passion—and especially at one’s own. In this precisely consists the transition, the breaking. Therefore the power that struggles against the passions is the intellect, or spirit, in which consciousness and freedom reside—a spirit held and strengthened by grace. Through it, as we have seen, the healing power passes to the forces through ascetical practices; through it also the power that strikes and destroys passes to the passions in warfare. And conversely: when the passions rise up, they aim directly at the intellect or spirit—that is, at the subjugation of consciousness and freedom. They are in the sanctuary of our inner self, whence the enemy sends through the passions his glowing arrows from the soul-body realm as from ambushes. And as long as consciousness and freedom remain whole—that is, stand on the side of good—no matter how great the attack, our victory is assured.

This, however, does not suggest that all the power of victory comes from us; it shows only the starting point. The point of support for warfare is our restored spirit; the conquering and destructive power for the passions is grace. It creates one thing in us and destroys another—but again through the spirit, or consciousness and will. The warrior cries out and throws himself upon God, complaining of his enemies and hating them, and God in him and through him drives them out and strikes them. “Be of good cheer”, says the Lord, “for I have overcome the world” (Jn 16:33). “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, confesses the Apostle (Phil 4:13)—just as without Him we can do nothing. Whoever wishes to overcome by himself will certainly fall either into the passion with which he struggles or into some other passion. But he who surrenders himself to God achieves victory as though from nothing. This does not, however, negate our own resistance but only shows that despite all resistance, success or victory can never be ours; if it exists, it always comes from God. So resist with all your might and struggle, but never cease to cast all your cares upon the living God, who says: “I am with you in the day of troubles—do not fear.”

How then should a person act, or what methods in general are suitable for subduing the passions? To determine this, we must examine and identify all his enemies, as well as the forms in which they appear and act; from this we will ourselves determine the manner of warfare against them. Success in warfare greatly depends on understanding the entire composition of the battle.

We do not make peaceful progress in good because the passions still live and are strongly supported by the present world that lies before us—a vain, visible world—and by the dark forces that rule in it. These are the sources of the movements that rise up in us against good.

Before conversion, a person is wholly filled with passion. After conversion, the spirit becomes pure, filled with zeal. But the soul and body remain passionate. When their cleansing and healing begins, they resist and rise up in defense of their life against the spirit that pursues them. These uprisings take place chiefly through bodily and psychological forces and strike the spirit insofar as these forces are allowed to do so. But there are also movements that directly attack the spirit. These are the glowing arrows that the enemy sends from the ambush of soul-body existence at the prisoner who has escaped his tyranny. Hence, even though there is a part in us that has been healed or is whole, the uprisings of sin and the passions show themselves and are felt throughout our whole existence.

In the body: the source and foundation of these is fleshly pleasure, or the indulgence of the flesh, with which is directly connected the stirring of bodily life and sensory gratification. Where these exist, there exist lustful desire, gluttony, sensual pleasure, laziness, effeminacy, wandering of the senses, talkativeness, distraction, restlessness, licentiousness, jesting, idle speech, sleepiness, drowsiness of the eyes, longing for pleasure, and all kinds of creations to gratify the flesh in desire.

In the soul:

in the mental part self-will, faith in one’s own mind alone, contradiction, rising up against God’s mind, doubt, arrogance and pride, prying curiosity, scattering of the mind, wandering of thoughts; in the desiring part—willfulness, disobedience, lust for power, cruelty, recklessness, presumption, self-appropriation, ingratitude, covetousness, greed; in the feeling part passions that disturb the peace and tranquility of the heart, or various pleasures and displeasures: anger, envy, hatred, malice, vengeance, condemnation, contempt, love of glory, vanity, pride, grief, sadness, sorrow, despair, joys, cheerfulness, fears, hopes, expectations.

The source of all these soul-body passions is self-love or self-centeredness, which though it was defeated or rejected at first, often rises up again and, clothed in some passion, enters into warfare with the spirit. This remaining self-centeredness, with all its host of passions, constitutes the smoldering carnal person and is precisely that “other law in my members” of which the Apostle speaks (Rom 7:23), from which something opposed to what the spirit desires always rises up. The holy Fathers, so as not to scatter the attention of the spiritual warrior-Christian, sought to reduce all passions to their sources, so that the warrior might know what to aim at. With this goal, around the source—self-centeredness—they place three: pleasure, greed, and pride, and then five others that arise from these. Limiting themselves to this, they described their arising and pointed out the manner of combat. He who has cut off pleasure through self-inflicted hardship, greed through not possessing things, and pride through humility, has conquered self-centeredness, for it is easier to destroy it in its offspring than in itself. All of this is in soul and body. But the spirit, which has come to life or is coming to life, is not free from suggestions, which are all the more dangerous because they touch the source of life and are often unnoticed due to their subtlety and depth. Here too, just as in soul and body, opposing the entire composition of spiritual inner life, there is an opposing series of movements and states that drive it back and obscure it. Thus often instead of inner abiding and recollection there is an outpouring of oneself into the senses; instead of the three acts of inner abiding—attention, vigilance, and sobriety—there is scattering of the mind, inner confusion, distraction, slackness, ease, lowering of oneself, licentiousness, boldness, captivity, attachment, wounding of the heart; instead of spiritual consciousness there is forgetfulness of God, death, judgment, and all spiritual things.

Since consciousness is the chief thing in the spirit, built upon inner abiding, when it falls, life-activity also falls. From this arises instead of the fear of God and the sense of dependence on Him—recklessness; instead of choosing and treasuring the spiritual—indifference to it; instead of renunciation of all things—self-indulgence (why trouble oneself!); instead of penitential feelings—lack of feeling, hardening of heart; instead of faith in the Lord—self-justification; instead of zeal—cooling, sluggishness, inertness; and instead of surrender to God—self-action.

Falling upon consciousness or will, even one such feeling either completely blocks or greatly diminishes the source of our spiritual life and places us in extreme danger. This is when help from outside is extremely necessary. These tempting movements sometimes go unnoticed by a person, for they belong to the most subtle thoughts. Psychological and bodily passions are more evident and coarse, though some subtle ones exist among them—for example, self-indulgence of the body or self-will and contradiction. In words they are understood, but in deeds they are often hidden.

Here is the entire host, ready at every moment to extinguish our new life—uprisings of sin. A person walks upon the earth of his existence as if upon quicksand, ready to sink in at every instant. When you walk, walk with caution, lest you stumble and strike your foot against a stone.

Remaining, however, within under the pressure of new rules and order, and through the activity of the spirit, all these wrong movements would not be so fierce if they were not supported by those who give them birth—the world and demons.

The world is the embodied world of passions, or passions walking about in people, customs, and deeds. By touching it with any part of oneself, one cannot help but disturb the corresponding wound or passion within oneself, according to their likeness and similar disposition. Therefore everyone living in the world is drawn toward the passions through those passions that live within him, through occasions and temptations.

But there are certain excitations that belong properly to the world itself. Such are its seductive appearance and its prosperity in everything, or its terrifying power—the feeling of abandonment and emptiness among the multitude, obstacles everywhere, thorns, mockery, contempt, neglect, suffering from lawless deeds. Following this come oppression, persecution, hostility, deprivation, and sorrows of all kinds.

And demons, as sources of all evil, with their multitudes surrounding people everywhere, teach them to commit every sin, acting through the flesh, especially the senses and that realm in which the soul and the demons themselves exist. Therefore every passion and every rising up of sin can be attributed to them as their cause. But there are certain things in the sinful circle that only demons can suggest, to which nature, despite all its corruption, seems incapable: blasphemous thoughts—doubts, disbelief, extraordinary repulsion, obscuration, spiritual delusion of various kinds, and in general passionate temptations, arrogant ones—for example, uncontrollable lust, hatred that persists until death, and the like. Besides these invisible struggles from demons, there are visible attacks from them, perceptible through the body: apparitions of various kinds, extending even to their power over the body itself. To recognize all the treachery of demons, it is useful to read the lives of Niphon, Spyridon, and others.

This is all that rises up against the new person inwardly and outwardly. The vigilant say that not even a minute passes without some stirring from one of these movements, which is inevitable, for we see how the inward face, striving for good, is surrounded by a hostile host from all sides, plunged into it like in a sea. However, beyond seeing this multitude of enemies, for success in warfare one must also know in what form these attacks come.

Let us imagine where the person’s face is after conversion. It is inward, in another world; it stands and acts as something else. He has spiritual things in his thought and spiritual deeds in his intention. This means he has turned away from what is passionate and sinful. When a favorable order for the development of good is then established through rules, one can see that he stands wholly in the realm of spiritual light, holiness. What is sinful and passionate has been put aside from his attention and lies under the weight of rules. It breaks out rarely, at times, and withdraws again, occupying or not occupying his attention. It only shows itself to his inner eye, reminds him of itself, wishes only that he occupy himself with it, think about it, dwell upon it. Therefore the chief form in which the hostile appears in us is the thought. When the enemy succeeds in occupying our mind with an evil thought, he profits by this, and often can triumph and celebrate victory, because desire can quickly lean toward the thought, and desire can be followed by resolution and then by deed, and this is already sin and fall. On this basis, the holy Fathers, who watched themselves closely, note such stages in the arising of passions and their encitement: the assault of thought, thought, gratification, desire, passion, attraction, resolution, and then the deed. In their form of appearance, sometimes they develop gradually one after another, sometimes each appears separately, outside of order, except for resolution, which is always an act that is not immediate but preceded by deliberation and an inclination of the will: as long as it does not happen, purity remains whole and conscience clean. Therefore all acts before it are designated by one word: thought—simply or with qualification, simple thought, passionate thought, lustful thought, because it appears in us either as simply a thought, a representation only of a sinful object, or as lust, desire, craving, or finally as passion, as attraction. All of them entice and tempt the mind or spirit toward what is passionate and sinful, but this is not yet evil, not yet sin, as long as the mind does not consent to them, does not enter into struggle with them each time they appear, does not drive them out. The boundaries of warfare are from the appearance of thought, desire, passion, attraction, to their disappearance and the cleaning out of every trace of them; to this all the rules of this warfare are directed. It is true that the world acts from without, as does Satan, but their tempting actions reach our consciousness in no other way than through one of these three, for all their concern is to shake the inner state and incline us toward them. All their cunning is directed here, so that in this respect it is not the method or deeds they use against us that is important, but what they aim to arouse in us that matters and has value in life and action. For instance, in persecutions the goal is not the person’s suffering but the thought of complaint or despair or abandonment of virtue. Consequently, in relation to spiritual warfare, one can definitively establish: no matter where and how the sinful arises, turn all your power and all your attention to the sinful itself; begin the action with it and struggle with it. This is a law of great importance: it will keep a person focused inward, and therefore in power and in a certain sense in safety. This is why the holy Fathers directed all their rules toward thoughts, passions, desires, and applied them to their nature; the causes they either do not mention or, if they do mention them, do not give them special significance in this respect and often do not distinguish between them. For the world, demons, and lust can all arouse and do arouse the same passion, but it does not take on any special character from this. Therefore let all the attention of the ascetic be turned inward—toward thoughts, desires, passions, attractions—first and foremost, however, toward thoughts, for the heart and will are not as restless as the mind, and passions and desires rarely arise separately; for the most part they are born from thoughts. Hence the rule: cut off the thought—and you will cut off everything.

After this it becomes very easy to make a general sketch of spiritual warfare. It is sufficiently depicted in the “Letters on Christian Life.” We extract it from there.

Of the rules of spiritual warfare, which constitute the military art of the Christian, some serve to prevent attacks, others to accomplish the ending of warfare more easily and successfully, and still others to firmly establish the fruits of victory or to more quickly eliminate the consequences of defeat; and thus they naturally divide into three classes: a) rules to observe before warfare, b) during the warfare itself, and c) after it.

Before warfare the warrior must act in such a way that through his activity he either prevents attacks, or gives himself the opportunity to notice them at the very beginning, or even prepares for victory. Therefore first of all he must narrow the realm of sinful movements, bring them together into one place, because in this way he will not only find it easier to notice disturbances, but will also see more clearly where to direct his forces.

The outer boundary of the sinful realm in general is like this: establishing itself at the center of life—the heart—sin penetrates into the soul and body through all their functions, then passes into all a person’s external relationships, and finally spreads its cover over everything surrounding him. Even now, driven out from the depths of the heart, it still hovers in the vicinity, still feeds on what it fed on before; people, things, circumstances can easily arouse the same thoughts and feelings that a person associated with them when he served sin. The prudent warrior must now cut off this external supply for the enemy. To do this he needs to: restructure all his external behavior, give all of it a new appearance, new motives, new times, and so forth according to the spirit of the new life; distribute his time so that no hour remains without proper occupation. The time free from necessary occupations should be filled not with anything but with occupations that help in the mortification of sin and strengthening of the spirit. How beneficial certain bodily ascetical practices are, contrary to the noticed inclinations, anyone can experience; bind one’s senses, especially the eyes, ears, and tongue, which are the easiest conduits of sin from the heart outward and from without into the heart; give a spiritual character to everything with which one necessarily must meet—things, people, circumstances—and especially fill one’s place of constant abiding with things striking to the soul, so that living in the external world a person might live as if in some Divine school.

In general, one should arrange one’s entire external life so that, on the one hand, it does not already require special attention and frees us from every care about it, and on the other hand, not only makes us safe from unexpected uprisings of sin but feeds and strengthens the emerging new life according to the spirit. With such an order sin will be completely cut off from without; it will no longer receive its food and support from here.

If now from the inner side a person applies all effort to preserve himself as he is, in the condition he emerged from the first victory, if he constantly warms the feelings and dispositions that were born in him at that time, then sin will be cut off from within too and will remain here forever without support or strength. Sin, deprived of food and support in this way, if it is not destroyed immediately, must at least grow weaker and weaker until it is completely exhausted. After this, the struggle with sin will obviously decrease and will be concentrated entirely in the struggle with thoughts (which will especially tend to disrupt the new order), rarely with passions and inclinations, where only one must be carefully watchful. Exactly two vigilant guards must a warrior of Christ have constantly: sobriety and discernment. The first is turned inward, and the second outward; the former observes the movements coming from the heart itself, while the latter foresees movements that will arise in it through external influence. The law for the first: after expelling from the soul every thought through the memory of God’s presence, stand at the door of the heart and carefully watch everything entering and leaving it, especially do not let feeling and desire act first, for from here all evil comes. The law for the second: at the beginning of each day sit down and review all possible encounters and circumstances, all possible feelings and movements that might arise through them, and in advance prepare the proper defense in yourself so as not to be confused or fall when an unexpected attack comes. To act more successfully in the attack itself, it is useful to previously arrange intentional mental warfare, mentally placing oneself in various circumstances with various feelings and desires, and inventing different ways to keep oneself within proper bounds, and observing what helped us most in that and what in another case. Such preliminary practice forms a warring spirit, trains one to meet the enemy without fear, and without great effort to defeat him as if by means of methods known through experience. Besides this, before we begin to fight, we must previously learn when to act offensively, when defensively, and when to retreat. Apart from the fact that the use of one or another method of warfare corresponds to the degrees of spiritual growth, at first it is best to retreat altogether—that is, to take shelter under the protection of the Lord, without resistance. Later, when we have come to know our enemies through experience and have studied their attacks, without wasting time we can repel them, but we should not deliberately allow passions to arise within us or place ourselves in such circumstances where they must act with full force in order to have an opportunity to struggle and gain victory. There are particular passionate arousions that can be overcome exclusively by one or another method. Thoughts must be driven out without fail, but this is not always possible with inclinations and passions, especially bodily ones. In either case, ignorance alone can mean the loss of victory. Finally, we should never go out to warfare without the principal conquering thought—as it were a victorious banner. As it once decided the matter between good and evil in favor of the first, so now, during warfare with each particular sinful movement of the soul, it will without difficulty make us victors. With its appearance all the hosts of enemies should scatter, all vicious thoughts and desires. It has the power to inspire and lift a person above himself; therefore one must bring it to consciousness as often as possible and bring it to feeling—establish forever on the mental firmament this light that drives back darkness. Nothing can kindle zeal for the eradication of sin more powerfully than this thought—zeal, this swift stream of living water, which, moving though not disturbed, makes all the waves from the throwing of stones of temptations imperceptible.

With such precautions and rules, go forth, warrior of Christ, with confidence into warfare. However, even during the warfare itself you must act according to certain rules so as not to resemble enemies acting in disorderly attack. Often a single order of action, without special strain, can crown you with success. Upon noticing the approach of the enemy—the beginning of an arousal of thought, passion, or inclination—first of all hurry to recognize that these are enemies. It is a great and universal mistake to consider all that arises in us as our own blood relative, for which we should stand as for ourselves. All sin is alien to us; therefore we must always separate it from ourselves, otherwise we will have a traitor within us. Whoever wishes to wage warfare with himself must divide himself into himself and into the enemy lurking within him.

Having separated the vicious movement from yourself and recognized it as an enemy, then transfer this recognition to feeling, awaken in the heart hatred for it. This is the most salvific means for driving out sin. Every sinful movement is held in the soul through the sensation of some pleasure from it; therefore, when hatred is aroused toward it, it, losing all support, disappears of itself. However, this is not always easy and not always possible: it is easy to strike down thoughts with anger, more difficult desires, but even more difficult passions, for they are themselves heartfelt movements. When this does not help and the enemy will not yield victory in this way without a struggle, then courageously, but without self-exaltation and presumptuousness, engage in struggle. Fear throws the soul into confusion, into a kind of agitation and weakness, and if it is not established in itself, it can easily fall. Self-exaltation and self-conceit are themselves enemies with which one must struggle: whoever has allowed them has already fallen and has further inclined himself to new falls, because they render a person inactive and careless. Warfare has begun—guard above all your heart: do not let the arising movements reach feeling; meet them at the very entrance into the soul and strive to strike them there. To do this, hurry to raise up in the soul convictions opposed to those on which the disturbing thought depends. Such counter-convictions are in mental warfare not only a shield but arrows—they defend your heart and strike the enemy in the heart itself. From then on the warfare will consist of this: the risen sin will constantly be defended by thoughts and representations protecting it, while the one struggling will destroy these defenses with opposing thoughts and representations. The duration of this depends on many varying circumstances that cannot be completely determined. One must only not weaken and not, even in thought, incline toward the enemy’s side—and victory is certain, for the sinful movement, as we noted before, has no firm support in us and therefore must naturally cease quickly. Even if afterward, despite this sincere action in defense of yourself, the enemy still stands in your soul like an apparition and will not yield his place, this is a clear sign that he is being supported by an external force; therefore you too must turn to external help, earthly or heavenly—open yourself to your guide and in earnest prayer call upon the Lord, all the saints, and especially your guardian Angel. Surrender to God was never ashamed. We must, however, note that it is one thing to wage warfare with thoughts, another with passions, another with desires: one thought differs from another, one desire from another, one passion from another. In all of this one must employ particular methods, which must be determined beforehand either through reflection or from monastic experiences and teachings. But one should not always take up resistance strictly: sometimes mere contempt drives away the enemy, while resistance only multiplies him and irritates him. One must pursue the enemy until no trace of him remains, otherwise even a simple thought left in the heart like evil seed will bear its fruit in the imperceptible inclination of the soul toward itself. During the warfare itself one should not undertake measures for future prevention of it. Rules devised there are always very strict, and therefore it is always necessary to change them and consequently to present the experience of their ineffectiveness, which is so harmful in spiritual warfare and seductive to the warrior.

Warfare is over. Give thanks to the Lord for deliverance from defeat, but do not abandon yourself excessively to the joy of salvation, do not allow negligence, do not weaken your zeal—the enemy often feigns defeat so that when you abandon yourself to a sense of security, he can strike you more easily with an unexpected attack. Therefore do not remove your weapons of warfare and do not forget the protective rules. Be always a vigilant and watchful warrior. Instead, sit and review the spoils: examine the entire course of warfare—its beginning, duration, and finally what gave occasion to it, what especially strengthened it, and what ended it. This will be a kind of tribute from the conquered, which will greatly ease future victories over them; thus spiritual wisdom and monastic experience are finally acquired. Do not speak to anyone of your victory—this will greatly irritate the enemy and will drain you of strength. The vanity you cannot avoid in this will open the doors to spiritual slackness, and after victory over one enemy you will have to fight an entire host of them. And if you are defeated, grieve, but do not flee from God, do not resist; hurry to soften your heart and bring it to repentance. It is impossible not to fall, but it is possible and necessary, having fallen, to rise. A runner who runs quickly, if he stumbles on something, quickly gets up and runs again toward his goal—imitate him. Our Lord is like a mother who leads her child by the hand and does not abandon him, even though he very often stumbles and falls. Better instead of fruitless despair, be encouraged to new efforts, extracting from this fall the lesson of humility and care so as not to go where it is slippery and where one cannot help but fall. If you do not erase the sin by sincere repentance, then once it has gained some strength in you, it will inevitably pull you down to the bottom of the sinful sea. Sin will dominate you and you will again need to begin the first struggle, but only God knows whether this will be possible. Perhaps by surrendering to sin now you will cross the line of conversion; perhaps afterward not a single truth will remain that could strike your heart; perhaps you will not even be given grace. Then even here you will belong to those condemned to eternal torment.

In general, concerning the rules of warfare, it must be noted that they are in essence nothing other than the application of full armor to particular cases, and therefore it is impossible to depict them all. The work of inner warfare is incomprehensible and hidden; the circumstances for it are extremely varied, the people fighting are too different: what is a pitfall for one means nothing for another; what strikes one, to another is completely indifferent. Therefore it is simply impossible to establish one rule for all. The best inventor of the rules of warfare is each person for themselves. Experience will teach all, one need only have earnest desire to overcome oneself. The first ascetics did not learn from books, yet present themselves as models of victors. Besides, one should not rely too much on these rules—they present only the outer outline. What constitutes the essence of the matter, each person learns only from experience when they begin to fight in actual deed. And in this action his guides are only his own discernment and surrender to God. The inner course of Christian life in each person recalls ancient underground passages, extremely intricate and hidden. Entering into them, the person tested receives some instructions in general outline—there do this, there do that, here by such and such a sign, and there by such and such a sign—and then is left alone in darkness, sometimes with only a faint light of a lamp. Everything depends on his presence of mind, discernment, care, and unseen guidance. Similar secrecy also exists in inner Christian life. Here everyone walks alone, even if surrounded by a multitude of rules. Only the feelings of the trained heart and especially the promptings of grace serve him as constant, infallible and inseparable guides in warfare with himself; everything else abandons him.

Such is the course of warfare against every passion, desire, and thought. Since they are all thoughts, desires, and passions, they are all equal; consequently, there is no particular need to discuss individually the struggle with each thought. Let us make only a few observations:

There are thoughts that are subtle and most subtle, and there are thoughts that are coarse and very coarse. The latter anyone can notice by himself; the former go unnoticed while remaining in the heart, but reveal themselves only afterward—from deeds, and by others more than by oneself. This is the reason not to believe in your own peace, goodness, and purity in the slightest, but to suspect it always and carefully follow the course of your deeds and see what thoughts accompany them and how they end, so that from this you might judge what originally lay within. It is best, however, to have another confidant—an experienced eye from without will immediately show what lies hidden within us, though we do not notice it. When we speak of the most subtle thoughts, we do not mean only spiritual ones: they can come from the body and soul. Their distinctive property is imperceptibility, concealment in the depths, so that a person thinks he is acting purely, without any admixture of passion, when in fact he is acting from passion. The cause is unstable purity of heart or, better, the not-yet-formed discernment of the natural from the alien. When this comes to be, then the subtle and most subtle becomes coarse and very coarse, for then attention will be sharpened by experience and the senses of the heart will be trained in distinguishing good from evil.

There are thoughts, desires, and passions that come in the form of assaults and brief disturbances, and there are constant ones, lasting days, months, and years. The former are easy, but one should not despise them either and should watch carefully not only over them but over their order. The enemy has, as it were, a law—not to begin at once with passion but with a thought, and to repeat it often. Driven away with anger the first time, it can be received more indulgently the second, the third, then desire and passion are born, and from there—one step to consent and deed. Continuous thoughts are heavy, deadly; they especially deserve the name of temptations. Know concerning them that they are not from nature, though suited to it by their nature, but always from the enemy; that the Lord permits them with a particular intention regarding our purification, to test and establish our faithfulness, faith, constancy, and ability to build the inner person—therefore one should bear them with equanimity, even if they are very offensive to the new gracious heart, such as blasphemies, despair, disbelief. The main thing is that throughout this entire time we should in no way incline toward them, should not appropriate them to ourselves, and should keep the heart free from them, separating them from ourselves and our freedom by thought and faith.

Thoughts that one must struggle with are not always bad, but often appear good and very often are neutral. Concerning bad ones—there is one law: drive them out immediately; the latter, however, must be discerned or reflected upon. Here pertains that experience praised by all of distinguishing thoughts—which ones to carry out and which to reject. It is impossible to set forth rules for this: let everyone learn from their own experience, for one person does not fit another so that what is right for one would be right for us. Better thus: an order of deeds has been established—and walk in it, and drive out everything new that comes, no matter how favorable it might seem. If a thought presents nothing bad either in itself or in its consequences, then even then do not quickly incline toward it but wait for a time, so as not to be rash. Some have waited five years and not carried out the thought. The chief law is not to trust your own reason and heart and to verify every thought with your guide. The violation of this rule has always been and is the cause of great falls and spiritual delusions.

A bad thought tempts, while a favorable-seeming thought deceives. Whoever is drawn away by the first is considered to have sinned and fallen, while whoever is drawn away by the latter is considered to be in delusion. Is it possible to depict all delusions in their beginnings and characteristics? The characteristic feature of them is especially that a person confidently considers himself to be what he is not—for example, called to instruct others, capable of extraordinary life, and so on. The sources of them are the most subtle thought that I am something and I am something quite significant. The insignificant thinks something of himself. To this most hidden pride the enemy clings and entangles a person. However, any subtle bad thought not noticed by us holds us in delusion; when we think we are led by a good and pious thought, we are in delusion. In this respect one can say that not a moment passes when we are not in delusion; we walk as if in phantoms, entangled in them now in this form, now in that. This is because evil still lies within, has not evaporated, while good is on the surface; hence in our eyes there is a kind of fog from the vapor rising up.

As for each particular thought, it is good to gather information about them beforehand—that is, to have understanding of them, the causes of their origin, their consequences, and the ways to drive them out. This will be a spare arsenal, very useful in time of warfare, namely: when hatred does not drive out a thought and it begins to multiply, seducing and persuading, then one must also set against it something refutative. But to do this, one must have thoughts in reserve. In this respect the holy Fathers selected the chief eight passions and described them as models, which anyone seeking can make use of. However, these are not exclusive subjects of warfare but only the chief ones. Thus in others we find descriptions of other passions and rules for them. The richest collection of them is in John of the Ladder.

There are bodily thoughts, psychological thoughts, and spiritual thoughts. To everyone it is obvious that they can all be present at any time, but naturally, at first bodily ones are more noticeable, then psychological and spiritual ones open up. Warfare should correspondingly transition or change its positions. Know this so that the one who has overcome the body should not abandon himself to negligence from a sense of security, because he can be defeated through the soul, and he who has pacified the soul can be struck in the spirit. In general, as long as there is breath, warfare will not cease, though it may grow quiet, and sometimes for a long time.

Saint Dorotheos says: “There is the passion acting, there is the one struggling, and there is the one victorious.” The first sins, the second begins to be purified, the third is close to passionlessness. The more decisively one rises up against the passions, not yielding to them even in thought, much less in desire and gratification, or if this happens, speedily tearing them out by the root from the heart, always bringing oneself to the opposite feeling, the sooner he reaches purity. The more compliant a person is to himself, more indulgent, the longer the matter drags on with stops and unevenness. This depends on self-pity or the failure to separate oneself from passion: by pitying oneself, a person caresses the enemy and fights against himself.

The result of warfare is purity of mind from thoughts, heart from passions, will from inclinations. When this comes into being, a person enters into passionlessness. His inner self becomes a pure mirror reflecting spiritual things.

Mental warfare with thoughts, desires, and passions should not constitute the sole, exclusive means replacing all others for purifying our filth, despite its decisive necessity, inevitability, and victorious power. With it must be established in continuous connection active struggle against the passions, or their uprooting, extinguishing, and destruction through opposite deeds. The reason is that passion penetrated our forces and penetrated them because we acted passionately. Each passionate deed placed in our force a bit of passion, and the totality of all deeds filled the force with passion as a sponge with water or a garment with stench. It follows also that to squeeze out this passion one must employ opposite deeds, so that each deed, settling into the force, would squeeze out from it the corresponding part of passion, and many such deeds, done often and continuously, all passion. Such a means, if only employed properly, is so powerful that those who act according to it, after a few experiences, begin to feel the decrease of passions, relief and freedom, and a certain light in the soul. Mental warfare alone drives passion out of consciousness, but it still remains alive, only hidden. On the contrary, the opposite deed strikes this serpent in the head. From this it does not follow, however, that in doing one can cease mental struggle. This must remain inseparably connected with it; otherwise it can remain without any fruit and even, instead of diminishing passion, spread it, because while struggling with one passion through deeds, another may cling, for example, vanity while fasting. If this is left unattended, then despite all effort there will be no fruit from the deed. Mental struggle in connection with active struggle, striking passion from without and from within, destroys it as quickly as an enemy perishes when surrounded and beaten both from behind and from in front.

In this active self-correction one must observe a certain order and structure, in the building of which one should pay attention to the nature of passion in general, to one’s own character, and to good deeds mentioned in positive activity. In the first case one should aim at the chief passions: sensuality, greed, and pride—and consequently mainly exercise oneself in self-mortification and harshness, in squandering possessions and destroying things, in subjection and submission to others, or self-effacement. Among the saints who actively undertook to purify themselves, such deeds are always seen in the foreground. In the second—at one’s own chief passion. This chief passion will appear at conversion, in the time of awareness of one’s sinfulness and repentance. When one makes a vow not to sin, this passion is held most in mind. Therefore after this too it should constitute the immediate subject of resistance to the sin living in us. It overshadows all other passions, just as it binds them around itself or gives them a point of support on itself. Other passions can only open up as this one is weakened and overcome, and with it be scattered. One must arm oneself with all might against it from the first time, all the more since there is much hatred for it here, giving power to resist. And one cannot move on to overcoming the fundamental passions without subduing it. In the third respect the order of good deeds is evident of itself. Namely, first will come deeds against the ruling passion, then against the source passions, and then, when that and these have quieted down, good deeds retain freedom to finish off the remains of the hostile host according to its discretion, and more according to inner direction. Whatever passion awakens and shows itself, against that assign deeds. These are the marks of combative action, and by them one should be engaged according to a certain law. Besides observing the shown order—in resistance itself there must be gradualness and evenness, so as not to jump from one to another like a scattered person. There will be no true fruit, and conceit will be sown. Act more decisively and constantly—then the nearer to the end and rest. Endure in the begun deed until the fruit appears, for the end crowns the deed. And what will be shown by experience the practitioner must observe. It seems it goes thus: right after conversion comes at once the active struggle against passions; from it or with it comes at once inner struggle; then further, they are mutually reinforcing and strengthening: the inner grows—the outer grows, the outer grows—the inner grows; finally, when both have sufficiently strengthened, the person comes to thoughts about greater ascetical practices and deeds for the decisive extinguishing of passions, their cutting in the root. One should not take great ascetical practices by oneself, nor counsel others to do so. One should act little by little, gradually growing and strengthening, so that it is an ascent and strength. Otherwise our deed will resemble a new patch on an old garment. The requirement for ascetical practice should come from within, as sometimes to a sick person definitive healing treatment indicates a prompt and sense.

Mental and active struggle against the passions is powerful in itself, but the matter proceeds incomparably faster, more fruitfully, and more smoothly when it is led under the guidance of another. You cannot always notice the enemy by yourself in mental warfare, cannot always know how to act against him and maintain your zeal and resolution for it, and most importantly—in neither case can you have a single plan, a preliminary outline by which to conduct all your warfare. Accomplishing this is completely impossible by yourself. Someone must see both your present and your future from outside. Therefore surrender to a guide must be considered the best and decisive means to self-correction. He will employ the same means against us and in us—mental and active warfare—but chiefly according to his discernment, his design, with attention to the goal, the path, and the crossroads. So whoever wishes and seeks purification, find and pray to the Lord for a guide-father; having found him, tell him everything about yourself that you know and see in yourself. Then give yourself to him entirely, both inwardly and outwardly—give yourself as unworked material so that he might build from it a house for the Lord, a new person. Having thus proceeded, abandon all concern for yourself and carefree hide under the hand of the father. Let him lead where and how he wishes; let him command to do what, when, and where he wishes. On our part we offer him unquestioning obedience, a believing one, not reasoning, and complete openness of conscience to him, or confession of our thoughts, desires, passions, deeds, words—all that we do and all that happens to us. By this we give him the ability to see where we are and in what state our inner structure is, and we give him cause, according to this, to give us advice and assign us deeds. The confession of thoughts and obedience to the father are decisive destroyers of passions and conquerors of demons. Each time disclosure is made and then what is assigned on that basis is carried out, it is the same as cleansing a wound and changing the dressing. Swift medicine! The one who has disclosed casts out all filth and, through obedience, then takes what is clean, new food, pure juice—as one would take a purgative, and then good food. But what is most important—through this the very root of passions is cut, namely: self-centeredness, the I. One conducting the warfare by himself still conducts it by himself and thus while acting against self-centeredness, in a certain way nourishes it. With a guide, however, our I definitely disappears into his will from the first, and with this all passions lose their support and afterward arise and act without order, in confusion, but even here all their cunning is outwitted and rendered ineffective through openness. In general, this is a powerful way to kill passions and flow quickly toward purity. All the experience of the saints leads here; and examples are innumerable. We must also note that the sooner after conversion a guide is found and chosen, the better. Zeal is alive and ready for anything, and what will a wise leader not accomplish with it, especially when self-will has not yet formed, which gives stubbornness, distrust, contradiction, corrections. He sick with this, having chosen a guide, must first be healed from it so as to enter the rank of a good son, capable of being formed. Woe when the soul becomes accustomed to do everything according to its own reason and will.

Finally, the ultimate, as it were, complete cleansing of our entire composition and its purification as if in fire is accomplished by the Lord Himself. Namely: from without—through sorrows; from within—through tears. One cannot say they appear only at the end and did not exist before. No, they begin from the first, from the very beginning, and accompany a person in the form of various unpleasantnesses and contrition of heart, and the more a person grows, the more they intensify. But the Lord introduces them into us in this way, permitting them and as if blessing the ordinary course of external and internal affairs for our good. Toward the end, however, He deliberately arranges them, gives tears, brings sorrows—either together or one after the other, and sometimes one before the other, and even one for one person and another for another. Sorrows are fire, tears are water. This is baptism with water and fire. In Saint Isaac of Syria this is depicted as a lifting onto the cross, or the final crucifixion of the external person. This moment, as they say, is the most trying, like the one that came to Abraham bringing his son as a sacrifice: in the mind—darkness, in the heart—joyless anguish, from above—expectation of wrath, from below—ready hell; a person sees himself perishing, hanging over an abyss. Some go forth from this in triumph, others fall and return backward to climb this mountain again. Those who have passed this stage, having risen to heaven, are no longer earthly but heavenly, are lifted by the Divine Spirit and carried by it, like wheels in the vision of Ezekiel. God is in them acting. Their state is incomprehensible to thought. It is known only through experience, and therefore those who have passed through it do not speak of it; it is neither useful and perhaps even not harmless.

Thus it is at the end. Until that time, alongside other means, as the most powerful means of purification, must be felt constantly the sorrows and unpleasantnesses ordained by God and the spirit of contrition given by Him. In power it equals the guide and in his absence can sufficiently replace him, and does replace him for a believing and humble person. For in such a case God Himself is the Guide, and He is undoubtedly wiser than a person. Saint Isaac of Syria depicts in detail with what gradualness the Lord brings the one being purified ever more into purifying sorrows and how He warms within him the spirit of contrition. On our part what is required is only faith in His good providence and ready, joyful, grateful reception of all He sends. The lack of this deprives the purifying power of sorrowful circumstances, does not let it pass into the heart and into our depths. This is in relation to sorrows. In relation to contrition—careful awareness of one’s sins and one’s disorder through watching oneself and what happens in us, and then frequent confession with sincere repentance and sorrow. Without external sorrows it is difficult for a person to stand against pride and self-conceit, and without tears of contrition how can one be freed from the internal selfishness of Pharisaic self-righteousness? The one who does not have the first is considered by the Apostle an adulterer. Since they are not in our power but in God’s hands, fearing to ask for them out of distrust of our strength and not knowing whether we will endure them, at least in no way should we be negligent about the latter. It is in our hands more than half and we are not forbidden to pray for it. So with as much means and wisdom as you have, strain yourself, as much as you can, to grieve before God in repentance, falling before Him and praying for mercy. Seeing the effort, He will give both constant contrition and, if needed, abundant tears with which the face of the soul will be washed and finally completely purified. Prosperity should lead not to self-confidence and boasting but to fear that the Lord has not already abandoned you as useless, and therefore to stronger zeal for heart-contrition, which is always a sacrifice pleasing to God. Indeed, one can say, when you do not have external sorrow, grieve internally, for God as it were calls you to this. Meanwhile also the opposite: to one who grieves externally the Lord Himself sends consolations—moments of ravishing joy making one forget sorrows, healing wounds, during which complaint is impossible. Tears may or may not be present: all that matters is sorrow before God for one’s uncleanness.

Here are all the means by which passions are destroyed in us—through our own laborious works, through guides, or through the Lord Himself. It was already noted that without mental inner warfare external warfare cannot be successful; the same must be said of warfare under guidance as well as of providential purification. Consequently inner warfare must be unceasing and unchanging. By itself alone it is not so powerful, but when it is absent, all others are ineffective, to no benefit. Both those who labor and those who suffer, those who weep and those who obey have perished and perish from the lack of inner warfare or guarding of the mind. If we also recall what was said before about inner positive activity—namely that in it is the goal and power of external positive activity—then the whole significance of inner activity will be revealed in full force, and everyone will see that it is the source, foundation, and goal of all asceticism. All our labor can be condensed into the following formula: having gathered yourself inward, raise up spiritual consciousness and life-activity and in this state walk along the outlined external labor under the guidance of a guide or Providence, but with this strict and intense attention watch and follow all that arises within. As soon as a passionate uprising is born, drive it out and strike at it both mentally and actively, not forgetting to kindle in yourself a contrite and sorrowful spirit concerning your sins.

Here all the attention of the ascetic should be directed so that in striving he not be scattered and remain as if bound or girt about the loins in his thoughts. Walking with such inner abiding and guarding is watchful walking, and the science of this is the science of watchfulness. Now it is clear why all ascetics considered watchfulness the chief of ascetical virtues and considered him who does not have it barren. Therefore it must be marked out especially. It has already been discussed, but that was only the beginning. There it was spoken of so as to show that one must go forth to active resistance and self-compulsion only inwardly, or better, remain in it—having established oneself inwardly. Now from the same starting point let us ascend upward, for there is the goal, and the external is the means. That is, one must show the essential yearning of the striving spirit toward God, the conditions for speedier approach to Him, and the state of the one drawing near, or better, the one capable of it, for the very drawing near comes from God.