Killing the Passions

Monk Moses the Athonite (+2014)

Translated from the Russian edition published in 2016 by Sretensky Monastery, Moscow.

 

 

Part 1: Discernment and Killing of the Passions

In this chapter we will touch upon the subject of the passions, which, in general, we must constantly reflect on. In order for everyone to understand, we will try to speak as simply as possible. This is necessary so that all may begin to labor on uprooting the passions and acquiring the virtues, which is the main task of the Christian struggle: the transformation of the passions hateful to God into virtues that contribute to the glory of God, so as to fill one's life with true joy and genuine peace. The presence in us of obedience to demons makes our life joyless, dull, boring, and wearying.

According to the lexicon of Suidas, passion leads to destruction: the body suffers, and with it the soul is in pain. It is a senseless and unnatural impulse of the soul—a superfluous and useless action that leads to sorrow, fear, lust, and pleasure, from which arise love of money, drunkenness, debauchery, accompanied by envy and ill will, which, in turn, bring confusion and unrest. All this compels a person to imagine himself immortal already on this earth, darkens him, and torments him.

A person possessed by passions is tormented, suffers, is anxious, and restless. Euripides says that passions are vile and repulsive, and Plato noted that passion is submission to pleasure. As a result, a person ruled by passion is not free; he is enslaved by his own desires. Modern dictionaries define “passion” as unconscious tension of sensations, insatiable thirst, ardent desire, inspired zeal, instinctive impulses, wrathful hatred—unbounded and unquenchable. All this tells us much and reminds us of much.

The passions teem within us; they have already made a nest for themselves, since we have long ago warmed them, we discuss them, we care for them, even love them, constantly justify them, because we consider them minor compared to what goes on in the souls of those around us, and therefore we constantly and systematically delay in uprooting them. Let us be honest and sincere with ourselves: is this not the case? Our passions are quite significant internal driving forces. And it must be said from the very beginning that the cultivation of passions in our soul is a form of renunciation of God in our life, since the passions, as we have already said, are things that fight against God and are governed by demons. The cultivation of passions also means that there is in us a dangerous self-satisfaction, obsessive narcissism, self-deification, and all this deprives the soul's sensitivity of its power, as if removing the "nerve endings" of the soul, which is no longer a life-giving force, but decays and dies. In such a state, a person engages in self-admiration and, in the end, self-deception. He justifies and even comes to openly support his sin, and then withdraws and becomes endlessly lonely, to the point where life becomes joyless and unbearable... It all ends in the worship of the idol of oneself, in taking pleasure in the sensation of one’s sin, and this state of unrepentance in the depth of the soul satisfies the person. And the absence of God becomes preferable. The sinner thinks that he lives freely and is not subject to any control, does not listen to anyone’s admonitions.

Passions are from the very beginning a declaration by man of his autonomy from God. The rebel of Eden, the apostate Adam, in committing his first rebellion, foolishly erred by obeying the cunning and hypocritical demon who promised quick and easy deification and bliss, and by not obeying his Creator, Lord, and God, who spoke clearly about the connection between patience and love. But Adam was in a great hurry and proved to be too frivolous and inattentive, thinking that perhaps he could live wonderfully with his own plans for life, as well as with his own goals.

In his freedom, Adam was very unstable and susceptible to various influences. But he could have resisted them! And his weak will—this was already his own matter and his own fault. Yet despite all this, the loving Father, God, comes once more, tactfully and gently offering a solution to the situation, giving the opportunity for repentance and return, which, however, Adam did not wish to make use of in order to continue his unique life in Paradise. He remained with his empty and selfish excuses, which clearly showed his lack of repentance and rootedness in sin, and these very things led to his expulsion from the Garden of Paradise, from life near God, and from communion with Him. Why? As Saint Gregory Palamas says, God has one "infirmity": He cannot dwell and abide in uncleanness, and sin is the uncleanness of the soul.

The tears of Adam at the entrance to Paradise were the beginning of sobriety, purification, repentance, and led him toward enlightenment and dispassion. In this lies the first necessity: in the heart of man there must be born a real desire to renounce passion; he must, as Sacred Tradition tells us, patiently, persistently, thoughtfully, sincerely, and humbly wage war against the passions. A person must acquire peace, gather his mind, gather all his strength, understand his capabilities, study them, pray, shed tears, humble himself, and, of course, participate in the mystical life of the Church. Our leader in this beautiful and sacred struggle for purification from the passions is Christ Himself, who calls us to follow Him with trust, love, freedom, joy, and readiness to sacrifice everything we have.

The captivity of the passions is full of pain. A person, forgetting God, deifies matter and himself. In such a case, one must recall the inexpressible misery of life in sin. Separation from God creates the deepest loneliness, a dreadful detachment from everything around, and an inexpressible emptiness. A person feels no joy, is satisfied with nothing, does not feel whole, and cannot find peace. Without God, everything is joyless, meaningless, and darkened. Relationships become hostile and immoral. Some kind of madness reigns. Debauchery rules. And a person is drawn to do what he actually does not want at all, that for which he was neither created nor intended. Thus, instead of freeing himself from this sickly state, a person usually begins to engage in self-justification and, in essence, mockery of himself. And it comes to the point that he begins to conflict with God Himself, as if He were the cause of his condition.

The passions hinder man’s easy communion with God, like shackles on the feet of a criminal in a prison cell, where even life no longer brings joy. And at the same time, the person himself cannot or even does not want to do anything for his liberation. The soul grows lazy, courage delays, decisiveness lags behind. We do not want to engage in hard labor or solve any problems—we have already become accustomed to living like this. Therefore, we continue to justify our condition wonderfully, even if we do not feel entirely well in it. The decision in such a matter belongs to us alone. The freedom given by God cannot be violated by the Giver Himself, who in a wondrous manner respects the free exercise of human will.

One could even say that passion is a true swamp, a drug, a prison. A person grows weak in doing what is pleasing to God and cannot rid himself of the shackles of destructive and corrupting passions. All of us have small or great passions, obvious or hidden, known or barely noticeable, those that have become habitual and those that arise unexpectedly—the very same passions we claim to want to be rid of, yet without taking any courageous action. It must be admitted that victory over these enemies by our own strength alone is extremely difficult to achieve. But with the help of the dispassionate Christ, who endured suffering and death on the Cross for us, the ones possessed by passions, it is possible to be freed from their absolute dominion.

Christ suffered voluntarily; we are also called to follow Him voluntarily and to crucify our passions, being co-crucified with our Savior. It is necessary to ascend this first step by one’s own act of will, with sincere desire and wholehearted disposition. Otherwise, nothing will come of it. This voluntariness is the fundamental condition—our entire will must be directed toward undertaking this struggle. The Lord is not the master or lord of the weak-willed, the unfree, the aimless, but the Father of His beloved sons, constantly desiring their salvation. He desires to save all and to lead them to the knowledge of the truth, but they themselves must also desire the truth and labor for it.

Thus, a person is called to seek out and find the hidden powers within himself, and to activate them immediately. This labor is not particularly easy or pleasant. The passions that have long been warmed within us have already found themselves a corner there, have taken root and... have become dear to us. Therefore, uprooting them is quite unpleasant: it scratches, stings, and hurts. We have become accustomed to living with passions, to commanding, advancing in career, achieving recognition, and even receiving respect. In this, we find a certain satisfaction, pleasure, and even a sense of security. Elder Aimilianos of Simonopetra says: “When I am quick-tempered and want to become calm, it seems to me that then I will lose everything and will no longer be able to manage. When I am proud but want to be humble—it seems to me that then others will trample me. But now, with my pride, I think I am something. So it is necessary to be cleansed of this ‘something,’ to cast it out of oneself—and then the passion will depart from me.”

Deliverance from passion begins with a persistent desire for such liberation. Passion is like barbed wire, a wall, a partition that separates me from God. According to the word of the Apostle Paul, it is enmity against God. But, of course, desire alone is not enough. This desire must also become a reality, so that this passion, hostile to God, may be transformed into a virtue pleasing to God. This is precisely what it means to be transformed and changed: that is, to abandon evil and love the good, to kindle a holy thirst, a divine love, a yearning for God, and the joy of dispassion. This living thirst will bring the struggler for freedom inner harmony, since it is not permissible for him to be sullen, nervous, fearful, grumbling, despondent, dejected, and distressed. If there is a lack of optimism, hope, and true joy in the spiritual life, then one may confidently say: something is not right.

Our struggle is always connected with both sorrow and joy. Joy—because we boldly hope in Christ, who was crucified and conquered the kingdom of death, sin, and the devil. Sorrow—because through our passions we grieve God and, for no reason at all, keep ourselves away from His embrace. Christians who struggle are not simply foolishly rejoicing while receiving blows; they are not merely carefree, superficial, dull, naive, strange, and lost in the clouds. If that is the case, then they are not true Christians. A Christian who struggles is always joyful, sincere, full of hope, respectful, and humble.

And the beginning of correcting myself is by no means selfishness. The awareness of my sinfulness brings me tenderness of heart, not horror and fear. The belief that “I want to and can change” must not be merely a pious wish or a humble excuse, but a real act—decisive and unwavering. A confirmation of the boundless love of the All-Good God is also this: that in my rebellion, apostasy, and estrangement, He granted me warm tears of sincere repentance. May the love of God touch my heart, soften it, strike it, and correct my faltering nature. Thus, the beginning is the rejection of my sin, and this rejection—worthy of all attention—will draw from God the gift of repentance, which will cause my soul to hate all the evil that I have loved and to love all the good that I have forgotten.

Once, an Athonite elder was asked what the Holy Mountain is.

He replied: “Here we have many who repent. Probably everyone!” Another elder said: “A monk is clothed in repentance. He burns entirely with love for God and lives in repentance.” This last saying is very important. Repentance is not some kind of passive position, where we lament our fate and curse our destiny, but the burning of the heart, according to Abba Isaac the Syrian, for the sake of God, people, and all creation. The one who repents loves; his heart burns with this love, and he strives to make up for the time lost in sin. He regrets his falls. But he does not panic, nor does he torment himself with thoughts like how he, “such a fine fellow,” could have sinned—because hidden in that is a serious egoism. Moreover, love for God is never without love for one’s fellow man. And this love makes me patient, condescending, compassionate, sympathetic, discerning, and radiant for my brethren, not harsh, reproaching, condemning, severe, critical, sullen, and uncompromising.

If we do not watch over all this, then sooner or later we will come to possessive piety, moralizing, puritanism, and will suffer ourselves from loneliness, inner resistance, and oddness. Our genuine love cannot be superficial, contrived, hypocritical, external, and temporary. It is not exhausted by words and emotional or sweet phrases, but is expressed in the fact that we fully accept our neighbor, without any conditions, self-interest, or expectation of anything in return. And this attitude—when you make room for the other, listen to him, allow him to move forward, do what is pleasing to him—this is a characteristic of sincere love for the Lord, of true, sacrificial, Christian love, which is an inseparable feature of a person’s repentance.

The knowledge of one’s inner world, the real awareness of sinfulness, and this twofold love (for God and for man) require a gentle and healthy climate for their growth, development, and flourishing. What is the essence of this? In calmness, silence, quiet, serenity, and peace. But where can this be found in the world? In daily life there reigns tension, agitation, haste, hectic activity, a saturated agenda, noise, quarrels, lack of time, constant difficulties, and endless postponements “for later.” In all this turmoil it is impossible to think rightly and act for good. It is even impossible to look within oneself. How can one speak with oneself and hear God amid this nervous turmoil and shouting? Yet it is necessary to find at least a little time for that which our soul (justly!) demands. We need to look it in the eyes, to observe it attentively and patiently listen. And this truly deserves time. For we have entirely forgotten our inner world, as if this “self” of ours were a foreign beggar, an uninvited guest in our home.

There is a serious reason to create a little silence in our life: to set aside entertainment, television, gossip, all that is superfluous, secondary, and unimportant, in order to rest a little—but truly and genuinely. To pray, to read a book, to go to church, to endure inconveniences, to learn to love, and most importantly—to repent.

The most frightening thing in today’s world is that a person does not consider repentance to be something necessary and significant for himself. Unfortunately, we have become spiritual stones. There is no sensitivity or stirring in the good sense of the word. At times, we do not even suspect that it is necessary to repent unceasingly. And this thick crust of insensibility is a real and dangerous trap, locking us in unrepentance, self-reliance, comparison with those even worse, and in a sick pharisaism.

Sometimes our virtues can become an adornment, a confident pass into paradise, and a crown of happiness and all good things. But, as the blessed Elder Paisios the Athonite said, if Christ were to come and say, “Paradise is already full, there is no more room,”—what would we do then? Would we abandon Christ because there is no more paradise? No, the saints will love Christ and follow Him everywhere and always, even if paradise is full, because without the Lord they have no life. Thus, it can be said that repentance for sin can lead us to Christ more quickly and easily than hidden pride in acquired virtue.

Now I will tell you something that may seem strange, so I will be careful in my wording. Passions are human errors, a deviation from the goal, a distancing from God, and, of course, a deification of one’s own “self.” But at the same time, passions can also be temptations leading to a new depth of repentance and humility. One possessed by anger should repent every day, struggle persistently, and confess with tears to his spiritual father. If he were not prone to anger, perhaps he would boast in his virtues and have no sense of the need for repentance at all. Of course, in saying this, we by no means imply that passions and sins are necessary so that we may repent; we emphasize only that their presence can become the occasion for a real turning point in life, for revulsion toward them, for transformation, renewal, and the rebirth of a person—for a true encounter and acquaintance with the Living God.

In reality, temptations can become in our life a cause of salvation, a significant opportunity for maturity and self-development, although they complicate and entangle everything. Temptations bring us down to earth, humble us, and kindle our prayer; that is why our Heavenly Father allows them out of pedagogical concern, for the benefit of our soul. Passions are very strong, but they are not so terrifying and invincible. We fear them, but they fear us as well. Sometimes we simply play games with them. As we have already said, passions are errors, stumbling blocks, works of deceit and fear, and tendencies toward independence from God. As soon as I humble myself, feel my powerlessness, my nothingness and sinfulness, and also the love of God, the passions scatter, retreat, and simply vanish. The grace of God is almighty. We must not immediately become disheartened, panic, give everything up and run away; we must not grow weary of beginning again and again, nor tire of repeating this beneficial struggle. “Up to seventy times seven” is said to us as well. This means infinity, and so we must never stop. The devil wants to keep us in the snare of despair until death, whispering softly in our ear: “Come on, loser, you've already tried so many times and achieved nothing, give it all up.” But God looks upon our patient struggle and, of course, helps us.

In his being possessed by passions, a person—without losing faith and hope—has need for God to visit him. And some great sinner of today may become a great saint in heaven, while at times those who appear to be saints are not truly such. Saint John of the Ladder said that a repentant person can attain greater purity than he had before committing sin. That is precisely why we must not label people. Saints may fall away, and sinners may be sanctified. There is no need to divide people—all of them belong in the Church. Let us not become superficial judges of everyone. Let us leave the judgment in such matters to God. But let us always truly rejoice in people’s turning to the truth.

Sometimes we rub our eyes and cannot believe that a wolf has become a lamb. But it is precisely in this that the wonderworking power of our Church is manifested, according to the word of Saint John Chrysostom. The boundless mercy of the All-Good God can transform everyone, always and everywhere. The passions, of course, are numerous and great, but the power of Almighty God is immeasurable. According to Saint Macarius of Egypt, the killing of the passions is not a human work, but God’s. “The more you love God, the less you sin,” Elder Porphyrios of Kavsokalyvia once fervently said to me at my first confession. The more we believe, trust, love, and hope in God, the more He wondrously visits us in this sinful life.

Saint Gregory Palamas expressed himself very vividly and interestingly: “The passions usually love to return—that is, they like to settle again in their place.” What does this mean? Has all our labor been in vain? Did God not work a miracle upon us? If we become inattentive, careless, begin to err, then the passions which we have already forgotten, thinking we had conquered them, will return. Passions return when thoughts of pride arise. The more a person humbles himself, the more his heart is warmed with love for God and neighbor, and the passions grow weak and become paralyzed. And then they become the very soil upon which the blossoms of divine virtues flourish and begin to give off their fragrance.

And these flowers grow not only in the desert, but also in the world. To the extent that a person is gathered within himself, frees himself from distraction, noise, bustle, and shouting, and inclines inward, cultivating the garden of his heart—to that extent he will be deeply astonished to find the rich mercy of God in His visitation of the house of the human heart. But if someone does not find time to catch his breath, to quench his thirst, to breathe deeply, then he has no possibility of receiving the Great Guest. It is absolutely necessary to find time for one’s soul. Otherwise, days and years will pass in wearisome daily life, dreadful despondency, and monotonous routine. Since we have achieved so much in our life, we must also make an effort to attain, at last, this encounter with ourselves and with God. We already know much, but the one closest to us—our own “self”—remains unknown to us. We easily discourse on many topics, yet in our life our Lord and God has not been revealed. And therefore it is precisely now that we must find the opportunity to arrange and order ourselves.

In order to receive, one must give. But what can man give to God? Nothing. Everything belongs to Him. “Thine of Thine own we offer unto Thee.” We offer what He Himself has given us. Only one thing can man offer: a voluntary struggle. To set aside something from his nourishment, from his sleep, from his words, from his rest and entertainments. And this is very pleasing to God. Not because He desires that we suffer—no. God gains nothing from our fasts and vigils. We are the ones who benefit and profit. We become healthier, more temperate, mature, genuine, swift, and active. We cast off our boredom, foolish merriment, pettiness, and dullness. “The Lord reveals Himself to valiant young men,” said Elder Paisios. And we must admit that courage, boldness, heroism, and self-sacrifice are absent from the lives of today’s Christians. We are captivated by this era of comfort, by a society of hyper-consumption, a world of abundance, wealth, satiety, and greed. But without humble struggle, the evil and deeply rooted passions that pollute and infect our life are not cut off.

Asceticism and struggle exist not only for monks. They are for all Christians. This is the commandment of the Gospel. We have already said that the passions are governed by demons. Christ pointed out that this kind of demons is cast out by nothing but fasting and prayer. The same can be said of the war against the passions: it cannot be waged without its weapons—fasting and prayer. Saint Gregory Palamas responds to those who consciously struggle, saying that the various passions, each in its own way, contain the devil within them; therefore, a passionate person, even without wishing it, is possessed, and many suffer from such possession without desiring it at all. These demonic traps are broken, and the destructive passions are conquered only by fervent prayer, discerning fasting, and much humility.

But even in asceticism there must not be excess. Asceticism is not the killing of the body, but of the passions, as Abba Pimen said. The struggle itself does not have as its goal to exhaust and destroy our body, but to demonstrate in deed our love for the Lord, our fervent desire to make Him the Master of our life, who holds the chief place in our heart. Everyone can struggle according to his measure, whoever he may be, wherever and whenever he may live. All can pray and call upon God, desire Him, remember Him, feel His presence, give thanks and glorify Him with all their heart for His thousands of gifts. Prayer expresses our love for God. We cannot perform it on our own; we call upon Him so that He Himself may help us in this. Without the guiding help of God, we can accomplish nothing. And the cutting off of the passions is likewise impossible without the cooperation of God.

Of particular importance in this matter is the contribution of the great teacher and father of the Church, Saint Basil the Great, who, with the wisdom given to him by God, addresses his disciple Chilon—and us—as follows: “Do not force yourself to struggle excessively at once; do not undertake much presumptuously, for through inexperience you will lose even your small effort. It is better to advance slowly and little by little. With discernment cut off worldly pleasures, in order to rid yourself of bad habits, for if you uproot all the pleasures of the passions at once, all the temptations will fall upon you. But if you fight against the passions one by one, moving from one to another, you will defeat them much more easily, each in its time.” And in another place he says: “We must become masters of the passions and slaves of God.” Passions drive one mad and intoxicate. Many passionate people fall into incurable illness through their inattention and do not even realize they are sick. A passion never becomes immediately evident to the one it possesses, unless someone from the outside points it out to him.

The profound Saint Gregory the Theologian also made a significant contribution to our topic: “Let us cut ourselves off from the passions and not leave even a single rootlet of evil that could grow and trouble us. Let us follow the image and honor the prototype. Reject fleshly passions, and reject also those of the soul. As much as the soul is more precious than the body, so much more important is its purification than the purification of the body. And if bodily purity is so worthy of praise, consider how much more important is the purity of the soul.” In one of his poems he says: “Shame has covered the body, but the mind is ruled by shamelessness, sees clearly the faults of others and is blind to its own. By my thoughts I am heavenly, but by my desires—earthly; I am peaceful and calm, but at the first wind, even the lightest, I am lifted up on the waves and will not be at rest until the calm returns.” And elsewhere he says: “Infatuation, drunkenness, jealousy, and the demon are equal among themselves: if they strike someone, they cloud the mind. Vigil, prayer, and tears—these are the remedies for the healing of our passions.”

The divine Chrysostom, the great educator and finest preacher, often speaks of the anatomy and killing of the passions: “Often the passions are more fierce than the waves of the sea, and if someone is inexperienced—he drowns. But the experienced helmsman, reasoning wisely, governs his passions before completely casting them off, and steers the ship to the calm harbor of salvation.” Elsewhere he says, “The longer the passions live within us, the harder they are to heal. The remedy against the passions is their immediate exposure and uprooting, which gives them no time to grow. There is no such thing as a good passion—all passions are coarse, despotic, and insatiable. The remembrance of the Lord’s sufferings contributes to their healing. And even if you are a king—there is no benefit in this if you are captive to the passions. All passions are curable, and there is none that cannot be healed, provided only that we do not show negligence and despondency. The healing of the passions also comes through remembrance of the future Judgment.” And the eminent Father of the Church concludes with the following: “What benefit is there in being rich and possessing money, when in virtue you are poorer than all? What profit is there in having so much in your hands and being unable to restrain your passions?”

Saint Gregory Palamas advises, for the healing of unseemly passions, to acquire “desire for the Heavenly Kingdom, humble contemplation, the glory of God, poverty of spirit praised by the Lord, purification of mind and heart from inappropriate, shameful, deceitful, and imaginary thoughts, as well as the necessary restraint of the body.” According to Saint Gregory Palamas, a passionate and unrepentant person becomes more irrational, pitiable, and dishonorable than the speechless animals; being enslaved by the passions, he naturally cannot rise to think nobly, and therefore gives himself over to indulgence, excess, arrogance, the passion for acquisition, power, sensual pleasure, and attachment to his own greatness.

In the Evergetinos, there is an account of a repentant young man who came to utterly hate his passions. He had committed many sins in his life and had planted numerous dreadful passions in his soul. One day his conscience reproached him, he repented, and repentance led him to a cemetery, where he wept over his transgressions. After a week, demons came to him and tried to persuade him, entice him, and urge him to return to their company, to the kingdom of debauchery, telling him that after all he had done, salvation was no longer possible. When the demons saw that they could not persuade the young man or lure him back, they mercilessly beat him. After this, relatives came and called him back home, to warmth and comfort. But the courageous struggler remained unshaken. Then the demons were forced to admit their defeat. The young man overcame the passions, acquired the virtues, and was granted by God the gift of working miracles.

It is also known that for as many years as the Alexandrian harlot lived in sin, for that many years she was tormented by thoughts of returning to her former life. This great ascetic of all ages, Saint Mary of Egypt, is an example for all who repent. Saint Syncletica says that we must love those who repent, have compassion on them, comfort them, remind them of the unending love and all-forgiveness of God, and present to them examples of repentance from Holy Scripture: Matthew, Paul, the thief, the publican, the prodigal son.

I conclude this talk with the hope that I have not wearied you too much, and with the sincere feeling that I have spoken to you not as a teacher, but as a humble brother. In closing, I will recall the astonishing words of Saint Isaac the Syrian: “How sweet the causes and occasions for the passions may seem! Yet anyone can reject them, calm them, and afterward rejoice. But it is not easy to forget the desires that lead to the passions, and for this reason we are tempted, even without willing it. The passions are no longer within us, yet we continue to love the occasions that gave rise to them. We no longer wish to sin, yet we gladly receive thoughts of it. Therefore, thoughts and desires become the cause of new sins. He who loves sinful desires and the causes of passions remains enslaved to them, even without wishing it. But he who hates his sins ceases to commit them, confesses, and is forgiven. There is no other way to break the habit of sin than to declare enmity against it, just as there is no forgiveness of sins without confession. Enmity toward sin is clear evidence of humility, and confession is the sign of contrition that arises from shame in the heart... We are all sinners, and there is no one free from temptations. Repentance is higher than all virtues and completes its work only at the hour of death; therefore, it is required always and from all...”

I humbly pray that the knowledge of the anatomy of the passions may lead to their killing, and that the killing of the passions may lead to the acquisition of virtue.

 

 

Russian source: https://azbyka.ru/otechnik/Moisej-Agiorit/kak-ubit-strasti/#0_2