Philokalia Ministries

I am sure that each one of us can easily relate to what St. John is describing in this step. Vainglory is the beginning of pride; it is the congratulation of self for work well done. It is the desire to be recognized by others; the love of praise. St. John writes: "The spirit of despair exults at the sight of mounting vice, the spirit of vainglory at the sight of the growing treasures of virtue." What are the signs that we have succumbed to this passion and been overwhelmed by this demon? St. John list several. Vainglory enters our lives when we grow concerned about what other people think about us. It puts down its roots into our hearts when we begin to worry about their disapproval and to be pleased by their approval. It captures our hearts when we enjoy their words of praise. It takes over our hearts when we begin to work for these words of praise that bring us joy. How can we conquer vainglory? St. John is very clear in his instructions. "The first step is overcoming vainglory is to remain silent and accept dishonor gladly. The middle step is to check every act of vainglory while it is still in thought. The end (insofar as one may talk of an end to an abyss) is to be able to accept humiliation before others without actually feeling it." These words are so easy to type and to read - - but not so easy to put into practice. John knows that we must work to gradually change our intentions. His advice as always is very practical. "If ever we seek glory, if it comes our way uninvited, or if we plan some course of action because of vainglory, we should think of our mourning and of the blessed fear on us as we stood alone in prayer before God. If we do this we will assuredly outflank shameless vainglory, that is, if our wish for true prayer is genuine. This may be insufficient. In which case let us briefly remember that we must die. Should this also prove ineffective, let us at least go in fear of the shame that always comes after honor, for assuredly he who exalts himself will be humbled not only there but here also. When those who praise us, or rather, those who lead us astray begin to exalt us, we should briefly remember the multitude of our sins and in this way we will discover that we do not deserve whatever is said or done in our honor." It is very interesting that St. John insists that the battle against pride is either won or lost here. "A worm, fully grown, often sprouts wings and can fly up high. Vainglory, fully grown, can give birth to pride, which is the beginning and the end of all evil." What a valuable insight for the spiritual life. What a great source of hope it is to know that we can deal a fatal blow to our pride by working on our attachment to the praise of others. Each day we can take small steps; asking ourselves difficult but honest questions: "Does my behavior change when no one can see me and when no one is around?" "Do I find myself telling others about all my spiritual efforts and blessings?" "Do I find myself replaying what others have said to me or what I have said to them over and over again in my mind?" "Do I act and talk as if I have experiential knowledge of spiritual truths that I have only read about?" "Do I become discouraged and quit when no one notices what I do or when I do not receive the praise and thanksgiving I think I deserve?" "Do I hide my sins and failings from others, even to the point of lying or shading the truth so that my true faults are not discovered by others?" "Do I become defensive when I am criticized? Do I feel the need to always make sure that everyone knows why I did something?" Again, this is not easy. But the promise St. John holds out should be enough to make us keep trying: "Anyone free from this sickness is close to salvation." 

St. John describes this spiritual danger in these words: "Fear is danger tasted in advance, a quiver as the heart takes fright before unnamed calamity. Fear is a loss of assurance . . . it is a lapse from faith that comes from anticipating the unexpected."    This spiritual phenomenon takes place in our lives more than we realize. For each person the fear is slightly different. Sometimes we fail to follow Christ because we are afraid of what it will cost us. There is a cost associated with each step of the spiritual journey; a further detachment from the things of this world, a new step of faith and trust, a great reliance upon Christ. When we face those moments of truth when the cost is made abundantly clear, we can feel very threatened and vulnerable. For so long we have lived in a certain way, for so long our security has been wrapped up in the things and ways that we are now being asked to put aside. The fears can grow very large. Other times we falter in our journey towards God because we are afraid of the reactions of others. As we grow towards God, we change. Very often these changes are not immediately accepted by those who have known us. When we move towards God in positive and challenging ways, we run the risk of misunderstanding, abuse and rejection. Once again, the fears loom large. Other times we are afraid of our own inability to do that which God has asked us to do. Perhaps we have failed so many times in the past that we are afraid of falling again. It seems easier to do nothing than to step out in obedience to the call of God. These and many others represent the nature of our fears. But St. John pushes us to see the "why" behind the "what." He isolates two factors. First we are overwhelmed with fear because of our pride. "A proud soul is the slave of cowardice. Trusting only itself, it is frightened by a sound or shadow." Secondly, we often are overwhelmed by fear through demonic oppression. St. John describes it this way: "It is barrenness of soul, not the darkness or emptiness of places, which gives the demons power against us. And the providence of God sometimes allows this to happen so that we may learn from it." How do we overcome such fears? The answer is clear: through sincere humility and heartfelt trust in God and through the rejection of all Satanic fantasies. We must not allow fear to keep us from pursuing God. We must look neither to the right nor to the left, but walk faithfully on that path which God has laid before us, looking to Jesus the Author and Finisher of our faith.

As we labor to ascend to God (understanding that prayer is both the way of and the end of the ascent) we must prepare ourselves for the test of prayer. The first battle is getting to the place and time of prayer. This is what St. John talked about in Step 19: overcoming sleep, getting out of bed (or staying out of bed) and actually forcing ourselves to attend to the time of prayer. In Step 20 he talks about the next part of our struggle in prayer - alertness. Alertness begins when we approach the time of prayer. "The bell rings for prayer. The monk who loves God says, `Bravo! Bravo!' The lazy monk says, `Alas. Alas.' Mealtime reveals the gluttonous, prayer time the lovers of God. The former dance and the latter frown when the table is made ready." We should not be surprised if we "don't feel like praying." This is part of our fallenness, our own sinful condition, the disorientation of our internal selves. There are many times when the desire for prayer is almost nonexistent. We must rouse ourselves to prayer. Alertness is doing battle with our laziness and our lack of interest in prayer. Alertness is motivating ourselves to attend to the things of God rather than the things of this world. It is the triumph of the spirit over the body, of the will for God over the will for self. Alertness continues as we pray. "The inexperienced monk is wide awake when talking to his friends but half asleep at prayer." We learn from this that the labor of prayer is a labor with the thoughts. We are far too "lazy" and "undisciplined" when it comes to our minds. Instead of directing our thoughts and controlling them we allow them to run free, here and there, wherever they wish to go. So, during prayer, we find ourselves often thinking about all kinds of other things. How many times have we come to the end of a prayer only to realize that we have no idea what we just said? How many times in the middle of liturgy do we catch ourselves reviewing yesterday's events and planning for the rest of the day? Alertness is the struggle to control our minds and center them on the one thing that is needful. It is the attempt to center our mind in our hearts, to eliminate not simply the bad thoughts but even the good thoughts which distract us from the pursuit of God.    This is not easy. In our beginning attempts we will fail many more times than we succeed, but we must keep up the struggle. For, as St. John promises: "This is the twentieth step. He who has climbed it has received light in his heart."

According to St. John, as we pursue the heavenly goal we need to be aware of the great danger of becoming desensitized to the importance of spiritual realities. What he describes should be familiar to all. When we are first awakened to the spiritual life and introduced to its depths, we are awestruck and experience a godly fear. Yet, familiarity often breeds contempt or at least invites one to have a casual attitude. Insensitivity develops when we allow a division to exist between our words and our actions. It is brought on by a lengthy illness which prevents a person from engaging in spiritual disciplines, carelessness and prolonged negligence. In many ways it is hypocrisy at its worst and most pathetic. We speak to others about certain spiritual practices and their importance and yet rarely embrace themselves for ourselves. We remain unmoved and untouched by our own words and exhortations. Even the reality of death and the judgement of God provoke no response. To understand such a vice and overcome it, John tells us, we must deliberately take hold of it and scourge it with unceasing prayer and the fear of God. The source of this vice is not the same for all, and so greater effort is required from us to expose its causes and defeat them There is a saying in the book of Proverbs which introduces the theme of Step 19 very well: "A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep - - so shall your poverty come on you like a prowler, and your need like an armed man." (Interestingly, this saying is repeated twice: Proverbs 6:10,11 and Proverbs 24:33,34). In step 19, St. John reminds us that too much sleep, like too much of anything, can be spiritually dangerous. Of course, we all need to sleep. Just as we need to eat, so we need to sleep in order to live. But, although sleep is natural and needful, like desire it has many sources. How can we tell the difference? St. John does not spend a great deal of time in explaining the answer. He simply reminds us: it is too much sleep when it keeps us from fulfilling our rule of prayer. When we choose to sleep rather than to pray - we have entered into the spiritual danger zone. Many of the fathers have pointed out that Satan can oppress and make us feel more tired than we are in order to keep us from praying. This often happens at night when it is time to say your prayers before going to bed. All of a sudden, you are hit with a tremendous sense of fatigue so that you can barely make it to your bed without falling asleep. Sometimes, undoubtedly, this is natural, but more often than not it comes from the evil one. It is a trick to get us to go to bed without prayer. For if we go to bed without prayer, we leave open our minds and imaginations for demonic assault all night. When we are sleeping, we cannot be vigilant over our thoughts. Therefore, our prayer before sleep is of the greatest importance. In this short step, John describes sleep and its sources, the habit of oversleeping, the tactics of demons especially at the time of prayer, and finally how these demons may be overcome.

We will be looking at these two steps together because they represent opposite sides of the same coin. Step 16 describes the spiritual illness, while Step 17 prescribes the spiritual cure. The words of Jesus fittingly introduce their theme: "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth . . . but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven . . . For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Matthew 6:19-21). There is very little which reveals the state of our hearts more clearly than our attitude towards our possessions and the way we use them. It is easy to say we are living for heaven. The way that we use our money demonstrates the veracity of our claim. Are we living for the kingdom or do the things of this world predominate and consume us? The cure for avarice is poverty. For the monk this poverty is absolute. The true monk owns nothing, having forsaken it all in his pursuit of God. For those of us who live in the world, this poverty is approximate. We have obligations ("mouths to feed, bodies to clothe, shelter to obtain") and we must fulfill these obligations. Poverty is best approximated in our position by striving to reduce the amount of our obligations. What we should be aiming for is the simple life, not deprivation. Severe deprivation can be as distracting as financial prosperity. The words of scripture reveal the royal way: "Give me neither poverty nor riches - - feed me with the food allotted to me, lest I be full and deny you, and say, `Who is the Lord?' Or lest I be poor and steal, and profane the name of my God" (Prov. 30:8,9).

In this step, St. John writes about the struggle for chastity: "The man who decides to struggle against his flesh and to overcome it by his own efforts is fighting in vain. The truth is that unless the Lord overturns the house of the flesh and builds the house of the soul, the man wishing to overcome it has watched and fasted for nothing. Offer the Lord the weakness of your nature. Admit your incapacity and, without your knowing it, you will win for yourself the gift of chastity." Sadly, in today's world, these words sound foreign. As a society, we have abandoned the concept of sexual virtue and purity. On our television screens and in the movie theaters, we calmly watch without reaction repeated violations of chastity. As Christians we have come to accept and tolerate attitudes and behaviors in ourselves and others that at another time would have been unthinkable. In so many ways we have lost sight of the fact that Chastity is not only precious in the eyes of God but a necessary virtue for us to obtain in our ascent to heaven. Holy Scripture makes this clear: "Now the works of the flesh are evident, which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness . . . and the like; of which I tell you beforehand, just as I told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God" (Gal 5:19,21). For this reason, St. John calls unchastity "a sort of death within us, a sin that is catastrophic."  What then is Chastity? St. John answers: "The chaste man is not someone with a body undefiled, but rather a person whose members are in complete subjection to the soul." One must remember that for St. John the body is both adversary and friend: adversary in as much as it has been marred by the fall, friend in as much as it remains God's creation and is called to share in the resurrection glory. For the Christian, the body is not a tomb or prison, not a piece of clothing to be worn for a time and then cast aside, but an integral part of the true self. The Christian's aim is "a body made holy." Likewise, the passions, although a consequence of the fall and therefore no true part of human nature, are merely the distortion of the natural impulses implanted by God. While repudiating the passions, we should not reject the natural God-given impulses that underlie them, but should restore to good use that which has become misdirected as a result of the fall. Our watchword should be "transfigure" not "suppress"; "educate" not "eradicate". Therefore, physical eros is not to be considered sinful, but can and should be used as a way of glorifying God. Sin is evil, but not the body and its natural impulses. In fact, physical love can be a paradigm of our longing for God. The struggle for chastity, then, begins with controlling the body's sexual desires, through prayer and spiritual discipline, and ends with their transfiguration. Having overcome the passion, we are free to be our true selves, free to love others, free to love God. How do we fight against the spirit of unchastity? St. John speaks a great deal about the necessity of doing serious battle against "evil thoughts" - that is, thoughts provoked by demons. This also includes conceptual images such as fantasies. Through ascetical discipline and prayer we must foster watchfulness - a state of spiritual sobriety, alertness, and vigilance in which one constantly guards the heart and intellect. In our discipline we must be as relentless and cunning as the demons who tempt us. With one difference - - We must in humility recognize our weakness and absolute dependence upon God to attain this virtue.

In this step, St. John writes about the struggle for chastity: "The man who decides to struggle against his flesh and to overcome it by his own efforts is fighting in vain. The truth is that unless the Lord overturns the house of the flesh and builds the house of the soul, the man wishing to overcome it has watched and fasted for nothing. Offer the Lord the weakness of your nature. Admit your incapacity and, without your knowing it, you will win for yourself the gift of chastity." Sadly, in today's world, these words sound foreign. As a society, we have abandoned the concept of sexual virtue and purity. On our television screens and in the movie theaters, we calmly watch without reaction repeated violations of chastity. As Christians we have come to accept and tolerate attitudes and behaviors in ourselves and others that at another time would have been unthinkable. In so many ways we have lost sight of the fact that Chastity is not only precious in the eyes of God but a necessary virtue for us to obtain in our ascent to heaven. Holy Scripture makes this clear: "Now the works of the flesh are evident, which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness . . . and the like; of which I tell you beforehand, just as I told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God" (Gal 5:19,21). For this reason, St. John calls unchastity "a sort of death within us, a sin that is catastrophic." What then is Chastity? St. John answers: "The chaste man is not someone with a body undefiled, but rather a person whose members are in complete subjection to the soul." One must remember that for St. John the body is both adversary and friend: adversary in as much as it has been marred by the fall, friend in as much as it remains God's creation and is called to share in the resurrection glory. For the Christian, the body is not a tomb or prison, not a piece of clothing to be worn for a time and then cast aside, but an integral part of the true self. The Christian's aim is "a body made holy." Likewise, the passions, although a consequence of the fall and therefore no true part of human nature, are merely the distortion of the natural impulses implanted by God. While repudiating the passions, we should not reject the natural God-given impulses that underlie them, but should restore to good use that which has become misdirected as a result of the fall. Our watchword should be "transfigure" not "suppress"; "educate" not "eradicate". Therefore, physical eros is not to be considered sinful, but can and should be used as a way of glorifying God. Sin is evil, but not the body and its natural impulses. In fact, physical love can be a paradigm of our longing for God. The struggle for chastity, then, begins with controlling the body's sexual desires, through prayer and spiritual discipline, and ends with their transfiguration. Having overcome the passion, we are free to be our true selves, free to love others, free to love God. How do we fight against the spirit of unchastity? St. John speaks a great deal about the necessity of doing serious battle against "evil thoughts" - that is, thoughts provoked by demons. This also includes conceptual images such as fantasies. Through ascetical discipline and prayer we must foster watchfulness - a state of spiritual sobriety, alertness, and vigilance in which one constantly guards the heart and intellect. In our discipline we must be as relentless and cunning as the demons who tempt us. With one difference - - We must in humility recognize our weakness and absolute dependence upon God to attain this virtue.

We are all familiar enough with the urges of gluttony. But perhaps we have not stopped to fully consider the spiritual dangers of gluttony. This is something St. John spends a great deal of time discussing. His analysis is very helpful, for he opens up to us the interconnectedness of the spiritual life. St. John expresses the teaching of the Fathers in this way: "the belly is the cause of all human shipwreck." Why? For two reasons: first, a gluttonous lifestyle feeds the passions which are inherent in man. Unrestrained eating habits spill over into an unrestrained lifestyle. The reason for this is clear: "Gluttony is the prince of the passions." St. John gives several examples. If you struggle with unclean thoughts, remember: "The mind of someone intemperate is filled with unclean longings." If you struggle with talking too much, remember: "The tongue flourishes where food is abundant." If you struggle with a lack of repentance, remember: "A full stomach dries up one's weeping." If you struggle with sexual sin, remember: "The man who looks after his belly and at the same time hopes to control the passion of fornication is like someone trying to put out a fire with oil." Of course, these are just a few examples of many. The point which St. John is making may be summarized as follows. The passions with which you struggle are energized by your gluttonous habits. Gluttony feeds your passions. Fasting takes away their nourishment. The nature of the spiritual life is that all passion are interconnected. We cannot allow just one passion to be unrestrained. This is especially true of gluttony. If we are gluttonous we will be overwhelmed by other passions as well. And what is true in a negative way is also true in a positive way. If we struggle with gluttony and gain some victory, we also gain victory over our other passions. But gluttony is not only dangerous because it unleashes our passions. The Fathers also teach that gluttony is dangerous because the demon of gluttony is the front man for other more dangerous demons. "You should remember," counsels St. John, "that frequently a demon can take up residence in your belly and keep a man from being satisfied, even after having devoured the whole of Egypt and after having drunk all of the Nile. After we have eaten, this demon goes off and sends the spirit of fornication against us, saying: `Get him now! Go after him. When his stomach is full, he will not put up much of a fight.' How seldom do we consider this when we are moved to eat. We have been taught to pamper our bodies and submit to their ever demand. Very few of us, however, question what spirit may be behind these desires. 

FALSEHOOD Throughout the Ladder John Climacus discusses the logical progression from one vice to another. And so it is with the vice of falsehood. It arises out of undisciplined chatter, talkativeness and foolery. Falsehood, or lying, John states, is the destroyer of charity and perjury is the denial of God himself. Thus, he tells us, we must not be fooled into thinking that lying is a minor offense. In reality, it is a sin "above all others." The effects of one who lies are not restricted to himself, but have the consequence of leading others into sin. Through their ability to deceive, and provoke laughter in doing so, they often distract others from their spiritual pursuits and dry up their tears of contrition. Therefore, John argues that we should seek to separate ourselves from such people, or, when appropriate and helpful, to offer fraternal correction with charity. To combat such a vice we must foster a genuine fear of the Lord and the judgement He will bring. A strong and well-formed conscience will serve us well in this task. Likewise, true compunction will aid us in this struggle. Sorrow for one's sins will destroy this vice. ACEDIA St. John explains "tedium of the spirit" in this way: "Tedium is a paralysis of the soul, a slackness of the mind, a neglect of religious exercises, a hostility to vows taken. It is an approval of things worldly." The word for despondency in the Greek is "akidia" and it indicates a listlessness or torpor. The best English word that could be used to explain this is the word "BOREDOM" or perhaps we could even use the word "DISTRACTION." Very often, it begins with a loss of a sense of purpose and ends in despair and spiritual death. St. John gives numerous examples which are sure to strike home to us. In our day and age, this demon is very much at work. How often does he confuse us with the suggestion that our spiritual labors are in vain!? How often does he suggest to us that our efforts are accomplishing no good result? How often does he point out to us many others who seem to be "gaining ground" without laboring as hard as we are? How often does he suggest that we shouldn't take the spiritual life quite seriously? How often does he remind us of our failures and suggest that perhaps we are wasting our time in pursuing the spiritual life? How often does he weigh our hearts down with earthly cares and thoughts even in the midst of our prayers? How often does he encourage us to take a day off, to sleep in and skip our prayers, to take a spiritual vacation? How often does the demon of boredom confuse our thoughts so that we forget what the goal is and how we are to achieve it? How do we battle such a powerful demon? St. John suggest two things: Perseverance in the course taken and cooperation with others who are struggling. The only way to beat boredom is to labor through it. Once we have been started on a certain path of prayer and struggle, we must keep on keeping on without allowing ourselves to be distracted. Furthermore, we beat boredom by reminding ourselves of what others have done and are doing. Tedium is rebuffed by the common life and by the constant remembrance of the lives of the saints. Knowing that we are not alone, gives us the encouragement and motivation to persevere when we feel like quitting.  

We are all aware of the nature of slander. To slander someone is to speak evil of them behind their backs; it is to criticize them and to malign them to others. For St. John, it is spiritually dangerous for two reasons.First, it is hypocritical. Very often when we slander others we practice the worst kind of deceit. The person whom we are slandering knows nothing of our dislike or disagreement. We say nothing to them. Yet, when they are not around, we speak of them negatively to others. This is duplicity. Putting others down can also be a way that we "build" ourselves up. It makes us look good (pious, intelligent, etc.) to be able to point out the bad in someone else. It often puts us into the good graces of others when we join them in their slander. Notice how we use others for our own gain when we act this way. Our concern is not for them (we would speak to them first if it was), nor is our concern for the safety of the ones to whom we speak . . . Our concern is for ourselves. We look good at the expense of someone else. How far have we strayed from the path of divine love and self-sacrifice. The Bible says: "Love covers a multitude of sins." We, with a malicious spirit, often delight in exposing the mistakes and weaknesses of others. Secondly, St. John condemns slander because of the attitude which lies behind it. Slander is the fruit of a judgmental spirit. The Apostle James identifies the connection: "Do not speak evil of one another, brethren. He who speaks evil of a brother and judges his brother, speaks evil of the law and judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law but a judge. There is one Lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy. Who are you to judge another?" (James 1:11). When we judge others we make ourselves equal to God. In so doing, we invite His strict judgment.  To encourage us to refrain from judging others, John points out how very often our judgments our incorrect. Given the finitude of our minds and knowledge, we see all things not as they are in fulfillment but as they are in process. We do not know the end to which a person may come and we certainly cannot read their hearts. In fact, when we judge others, we often condemn those who have already repented and been forgiven by God. We oppose God's mercy with our own justice.  A judgmental spirit also carries with it a spiritual boomerang. "Those who pass speedy and harsh judgment on the sins of their neighbors fall into this passion." There are certain "laws" which govern the spiritual realm even as "natural laws" govern the physical. One of these is that what we judge others for we will soon be guilty of ourselves in some form or another. To all of us who struggle with this dangerous sin, St. John has direct advice: Remain silent and offer prayers for your brothers and sisters in love. Springing from the previous step which considered the danger of slander and judging one's brother, we now see the primary cause of that vice and how it can be conquered.  Our talkativeness, John argues, imperils our souls, and through it we reveal our vainglorious nature. Rather than expressing our holiness or wisdom, talkativeness in reality reveals a host of different vices. It is "a sign of ignorance, a doorway to slander, a leader of jesting, a servant of lies, a ruin of compunction, a summoner of despondency, a messenger of sleep, a dissipation of recollection, the end of vigilance, a cooling of zeal, the darkening of prayer." We can see from this list that vocalizing all of our thoughts can lead us to great sin and reveal our ignorance of what is truly valuable. As spiritual sojourners we are called to the discipline of what John calls intelligent silence. Such silence creates the opposing virtues to the vices arising from talkativeness. In a hidden way, we journey toward God in our prayer, compunction, mourning and recollection, always abiding with him in our silence. Through these virtues we come to recognize our sins and soon learn to hold our tongue. We should be lovers of silence, John tells us, for in it we draw close to God and remember his great mercy to us. Briefly, John describes three possible causes of talkativeness. First, through leading a relaxed lifestyle we give free reign to our tongue. Like any other member of our body, John states, our tongue requires discipline and often of the most severe sort. Secondly, talkativeness comes from vainglory. As often happens to those involved in spiritual or intellectual athleticism, there is a tendency to become puffed up through individual achievements or gifts. Finally, gluttony, if not restrained, will give way to chattering. Through keeping a strict rule over our stomachs it would seem that our tongue loses its strength.