The Dangers of Passion and the Nature of Acedia

Malice is a sickness of the mind during the time of prayer. The thoughts of the angry are offspring of vipers, and they devour the heart that bore them. The prayer of the angry is a loathsome incense; and the sound of angry psalmody is a dismal noise. The sacrifice of the grudging is an ant-like offering, and it will never approach the altars of the circumcised. The angry man sees disordered dreams, and the wrathful imagines attacks of wild beasts. The patient man sees visions, the meeting of holy angels; and the one who does not hold grudges exercises spiritual discourses, and in the night receives the solutions of mysteries.

Chapter 11. Concerning Sorrow. A monk suffering sorrow does not know spiritual joy; for sorrow is a depression of the soul, and it consists of thoughts of anger. For anger is the defense of desire, and the failure of defense has engendered sorrow; sorrow is the mouth of a lion, and it easily devours the one suffering. Sorrow is a worm of the heart, and it devours the mother who bore it. A mother giving birth to a child, if she has been spared from the pain of labor, does not suffer much; but sorrow being born moves much pain, and remaining after the pangs, she does not suffer a little. A monk suffering sorrow does not know spiritual joy, just as one with a high fever does not taste honey. A monk suffering sorrow will not move the mind toward contemplation, nor will he send up pure prayer; for sorrow is an obstacle to everything good. Fetters of the feet are an obstacle to the race, and sorrow is an obstacle to contemplation. A captive from the barbarians is bound in irons, and a captive from the passions is bound by sorrow. Sorrow is not powerful when other passions are not present, just as A chain is not strong when those binding it are not present. He who is bound by sorrow is conquered by the passions, and he brings the bond upon himself as a proof of defeat. For sorrow consists upon the failure of fleshly desire; and desire is joined to every passion. He who conquered desire, conquered the passions; and he who conquered the passions will not be held by sorrow. The self-controlled one is not grieved by the failure of foods, nor the temperate one protesting against unrestrained folly, nor the one without anger falling from defense, nor the humble one being deprived of human honor, nor the one not fond of silver falling into loss; for they strongly diverted that desire; just as one who is armored does not receive an arrow, so the impassive one is not pierced by sorrow.

Chapter 12. A shield to a soldier, and a wall to a city, is security; [and...]

But passion is more dangerous to the monk than both pleasure and sorrow; for a whistling arrow has often pierced a gate, and a multitude of soldiers has undermined a wall, but sorrow will not overcome apatheia. He who is mastered by passion has been mastered by sorrow, but he who is defeated by pleasure will not escape its bonds. He who grieves continuously and pretends at apatheia is like one who is sick and pretends at health; for just as the sick man is revealed by his color, so the one full of passion is exposed by sorrow. He who loves the world will be grieved much, but he who holds the things in it in contempt will be joyful through all things. A lover of silver, having been defrauded, will be grieved bitterly, but he who holds things in contempt will be without sorrow. The ambitious man will be grieved when dishonor comes upon him, but the humble-minded man will receive this as a companion. A crucible cleanses unproven silver, and Godly sorrow in sins is like this; continuous refining diminishes lead, and worldly sorrow diminishes the intellect. A cloud dims the energy of the eyes, and sorrow blunts the contemplative intellect; a sunbeam does not pass through the depths of water, and the contemplation of light does not shine upon a heavy heart. The rising of the sun is sweet to all men, but even this is displeasing to a grieving soul. The taste of an oyster is taken away from the sense of taste, and sorrow takes away the sense of the soul. But he who holds the pleasures of the world in contempt will not be troubled by thoughts of sorrow.

CHAPTER 13. Concerning Acedia. Acedia is a listlessness of the soul, and a soul lacking listlessness does not stand against trials with courage. For what is nourishment to a healthy body, this is a trial to a courageous soul. The north wind nourishes the crops, and trials confirm the endurance of the soul. A cloud without water is driven by the wind, and the mind lacking endurance is driven by the spirit of acedia. Spring dew increases the fruit of the field, and the spiritual word increases the state of the soul. A flood of acedia drives the monk from his cell, but he who has endurance remains at peace always. When others are weak, the one suffering acedia is cast out, but he who is full of confidence maintains his own purpose. An acedia-stricken monk is sharp toward service, and considers the commandment to be his own confidence; a limp plant was bent by a light breeze, and the fantasy of departure drew the acedia-stricken man away. A well-rooted tree will not be shaken by the violence of winds, and...