The Soul’s Envelope is Bright or Dark According to the Inner Disposition. Examples. Demons Can See a Darkened Soul

I want, in addition to the foregoing, to say a few more things on the same subject. I will recount for you several instances of how the soul in its sheath truly assumes an appearance corresponding to its inner disposition. In the lifetime of St. Andrew the Fool-for-Christ’s-Sake, there was in Constantinople a priest (unmarried)—a faster, a solitary, a man of prayer. All held him in honor. But St. Andrew encountered him and saw that he was clothed in a kind of dark mist, and around his neck was coiled a serpent bearing the inscription “serpent of avarice.” Such was his soul! And yet no one had seen this. It was perceived by the spiritually enlightened eyes of St. Andrew[1]. But the dwellers of heaven have eyes still more enlightened. And so, while we suppose that no one sees us for what we truly are, we are seen by a countless multitude of eyes. You see how many stars are in the sky! The eyes turned upon us are even more numerous.

But in fact, we ourselves can, if not see, at least determine what we are. This is declared to us by conscience—that incorruptible judge. It can be stifled for a time, but it always manages to free itself from under its oppression and raise its voice, even in those who are not altogether conscientious. But in those who have kept themselves undefiled, its voice is always clear and ringing. It is and is called the voice of God in man’s spirit. In it is also reflected what the dwellers of heaven think of us, or what view they hold of us. And so, when conscience says that we are pure in everything before God and men, that testimony of conscience is reflected as light around our soul—and all in heaven see us as luminous. But if conscience accuses us of being impure, then we appear dark. Yet even more closely than those others, our Guardian Angels always see us—one as dark, another as luminous—according to the inner disposition, whether abiding or momentary.

Besides the Angels and the saints, dark powers also see us—invisibly to us. But they, when the soul is luminous, cannot look upon it, fearing the light as bats fear it, and they gaze upon it only when it begins to grow dark. They flit about everywhere in swarms, and as soon as they notice a darkened soul somewhere, they immediately fall upon it all together and begin to toss it this way and that through thoughts, passionate desires, and agitation of the feelings. That turbulent sphere of which I spoke—the one that is unlawfully formed between soul and body—is the place where the demons crouch beside the soul and begin to scatter it like dust before the wind. They attempt to steal close to luminous souls as well, but are repelled and struck, as by an arrow, by the rays of light. In Antioch there was a sorcerer named Cyprian. A certain young man asked him to use his sorcery to draw to himself Justina, a beautiful Christian woman whom he wished to take as his wife, but who would not even look at him. Cyprian several times sent to her the demons in his service, so that they might in their own way stir up love for the young man within her; but they would approach her dwelling and could not enter inside, and returning, they reported that from within they were repelled and scorched by a light—for that Justina was clothed, as if by some cloud, with light, and they had been unable so much as to look upon her[2].

Here is the finest example of how luminous the soul becomes when it is Christian, pure in conscience, and devoted to the Lord. With a pure conscience, the fear of God fills the soul and keeps it inviolate. Then the Lord Himself—who is everywhere and fills all things—visits that soul, and it becomes entirely light and shines like a little star.

Having preserved itself thus pure and luminous, the soul passes into the other world, upon its departure from the body, in that same luminous state. St. Antony was once conversing with his disciples when he saw a band of light ascending to heaven. Looking intently at it and discerning what was there, he said: “This is the holy Ammon ascending to heaven in the company of Angels.”

This, then, is what you should strive for. Do not rely on your outward appearance, for it is possible that one thing is seen in us while another is what we actually are. Better, of course, to be more than to seem. I recall the words of Basil the Great, who says: “The body is ours; what is beside the body—beginning with clothing—is what surrounds us. But what are we? We are the soul (with the spirit). It is there—withdrawing from everything outside us and from the body itself—that we must gather ourselves, enter into ourselves, examine everything, and decide: what then are you, our soul?”

This brings us back to what we had digressed from a little—namely, to the resolution of how to live in the spirit and through it to spiritualize soul and body and all one’s outer life. But that must wait until another time.