III. THE SPIRITUAL TEACHING OF ST. JOHN CLIMACUS

Imitation of Christ, Spirituality and Dogma, Grace and Free Will
Without attempting a full analysis, let us consider a few master
themes in the spiritual teaching of The Ladder.
In the first step, at the very beginning of the work, St. John Cli-
macus briefly indicates the essence of the spiritual life:
A Christian is an imitator of Christ in thought, word and deed, as far as this is humanly possible, and he believes right- ly and blamelessly in the Holy Trinity.'**'
In the final step he returns to the same idea:
Love, by its nature, is a resemblance to God, insofar as this is humanly possible.*''
Such is the aim throughout the ascent of the ladder: to follow Christ, to become "like God," to imitate and resemble Him in His divine love.
The Christian, however, does not only imitate; he also "believes rightly." For St. John Climacus spirituality and dogma are essentially connected; there can be no true life of prayer without a right faith in God. "It is characteristic of The Ladder,'' writes the Serbian D. Bog- danovic, "that in it dogmatic themes are constantly overflowing into the ethical realm. Dogma forms here . . . the theoretical basis of eth- ics."*** As Archimandrite Sophrony observes, throughout The Ladder John raises the discussion "from the purely ascetic to the mystical and theological level."*'
From this it follows that The Ladder, in common with any authen- tically Christian work of spirituality, is theocentric rather than an-
4*'>. I (6.(.iB), p. 74. Compjre the last letter of the spiritual alphabet, 26 (11)17(;), p. 2,12: "With (lod's help ;i[i imitator i>f the Lord."
47. UmiSAH), p. 2H6.
4K. jean (^liirniijttf dans la litlcratiire hyzutiline et la litterature serhe ancienne (Belgrade IWK), p. 21«.
•i'f. "I)e hi tieeessite des troi.s rcnoncemcrits che/. St. ("a.ssicn le Rimiaii) et Si |enii Cliiiiiii|U(.-", Studiii I'atnnku v (/'f.rff ttnd Vatenuchiingen Hi): Berlin I^Cii), p, t'^*!
17
INTRODUCTION
thropocentric; its purpose is not to analyze psychological states, considered in themselves, but to see the human person always in its relationship with God. To quote Bogdanovic once more, "For Clima- cus the virtues are not so much qualities of man as qualities of God; they are divine attributes."-^" Man becomes virtuous by participating in the virtues or energies of God.
John usually takes for granted this link between spirituality and dogma without alluding to it explicitly, but such occasional refer- ences as he makes to dogmatic questions are sufficient to indicate the closeness of the connection. He explains, for example, the relation be- tween obedience and stillness (hesychia) by comparing the doctrine of the Trinity with that of Christ," and goes on to illustrate the interde- pendence between prayer and the remembrance of death by invoking the definition of Chalcedon (451);
Some claim that prayer is better than the remembrance of death. But for my part, my praise goes out to the two natures in one person.'^
In other words, prayer and the remembrance of death are both equal- ly necessary, the two form a unity similar to that between Christ's humanity and His divinity.
The most significant among the Christological references in The Ladder is the brief allusion to Gethsemane in Step 6:
Christ is frightened of dying but not terrified, thereby clear- ly reveahng the properties of His two natures. ^^
John is thinking here of the Monothelete controversy which was rag- ing in his day, and in which his contemporary St. Maximus the Con- fessor was deeply involved. Although John was less directly concerned with the dispute, from his words here it is evident that he took the same view as Maximus. The Monotheletes held that our
50. Op. cit., p. 218.
51. 27(1117A), p. 273,
52. 28(1137A), p. 279.
53. 6 (793C), p. 132. On this passage, see D.J. Chitty, The Desert a Oty (Oxford 1966), p, 174.
18
INTRODUCTION
Lord, while possessing two natures, was endowed with only a single will. Against this Maximus argued that human nature without a hu- man will is an unreal abstraction. If Christ is truly man, then He has two wills as well as two natures; and it is precisely at His agony in the garden that we see the presence of these two wills most plainly mani- fested — in tension, yet in ultimate reconciliation. John's standpoint in Step 6 is similar. The passage quoted is to be understood as a gloss on Hebrews 4:15,"... tempted in everything just as we are, only without sin." Christ's fear of death indicates that He has a genuinely human nature, and so a genuinely human will, for He could not experience such fear in His divine nature or His divine will. At the same time John makes a further point by distinguishing/ear of death from terror of death. It is, he says, natural for man, living under the conditions of the fall, to fear death; terror of death, on the other hand, comes from a sense of unrepented sins. Now Christ is not Himself a sinful man, but at His Incarnation He accepts to live out His earthly life under the conditions of the fall. He therefore accepts the fear of death natural to fallen man; but, being Himself sinless, Ha does not experience the sinful terror of death.
In all this John, like Maximus, is not just splitting hairs. The doc- trinal point, technical though it may be, is vital for spirituality. Imita- tion of Christ, in a full and genuine sense, is only possible because God has become completely man, taking upon Himself the entirety of our human nature — including a human will — and so experiencing from within all our moral conflicts, our fears and temptations, "only without sin." Because we see in Christ a human will exactly like ours, yet freely obedient to the will of God, we know that such free obedi- ence is also possible for us. Here it becomes evident, in a very clear and direct manner, how a correct spirituality depends upon correct doctrinal teaching.
Faith in the two natures and two wills of the incarnate Savior im- plies that the spiritual way, understood as an "imitation of Christ," involves the convergence or "synergy" {synergeia) of two factors, un- equal in value but both equally necessary: divine grace and human freedom. "Without Me you can do nothing" (John 15:5): what God docs is incomparably the more important. Yet our part is also essen- tial, for (lod does not save us against our will. This is exactly the posi- tion of Si. John (^limiKiis. At first sight it might appear ihal in the Ludikt he overstresscs the human aspect, putting too greiii .\n fiiiplm-
19
INTRODUCTION
sis on man's effort and saying too little about God's initiative. But in fact he is in no doubt whatsoever about the necessity for divine grace:
Anyone trained in chastity should give himself no credit for any achievements. . . . When nature is overcome it should be
admitted that this is due to Him Who is above nature
The man who decides to struggle against his flesh and to overcome it by his own efforts is fighting in vain. . . . Admit your incapacity. . . . What have you got that you did not re- ceive as a gift either from God or as a result of the help and prayers of others?. . . It is sheer lunacy to imagine that one has deserved the gifts of God.''*
John is certainty no Pelagian!
"Joyful Sorrow": The Ladder as Dialectical Theology
". . . always bearing about in our body the dying of the Lord Je- sus, that the life of Jesus may also be made manifest in our body" (2 Cor. 4:10): the imitation of Christ signifies sharing at one and the same time both in His death and in His resurrection. But does not St. John Climacus lay too much stress upon the burdens of cross-bearing, and too little upon the joyfulness of the risen life? Does not The Ladder serve to repel rather than to encourage?
It is certainly true that The Ladder offers no encouragement to those who look for compromise. John asks from us, in Christ's name, a complete, unsparing dedication. Nothing is ever enough. Yet he is not cruel or inhuman. He criticizes Evagrius' directives on fasting precisely for their lack of humanity: Evagrius fails to allow for hu- man weakness, John says; we need to grow accustomed gently to the rigors of fasting, advancing little by little." Although his strictures on the failings of his brother monks come close at times to caricature, John is scarcely ever censorious: "his attitude," as Dr. Muriel Heppell remarks, "is that of the Publican rather than the Pharisee."^^ He free- ly admits his own defects, confessing that he cannot say much, for in-
54. 15 (S81A, 884BC, WOB), pp. 172, \7}, 1K4; 2.! (96KB), pp. 208-^.
55. 14(865AB), p. 166.
56. Introduction to The Ladder of Dmine Ascent, ET Archimandrite Laz.arus, p. 1"
20
INTRODUCTION
stance, about insensitivity because he is himself "very sorely tried by this vice."^''
The key to a true appreciation of The Ladder is to recognize throughout its pages a dialectical approach. Those who see in the work nothing except harsh demands for self-denial and ascetic strug- gle have discerned only one side of the dialectic. But, alongside the negations, again and again there is a positive note of reassurance and hope.
Fundamental to John's dialectical attitude is his sense of the reali- ty of the fall. Throughout The Ladder an all-important distinction of levels has to be made: Is John speaking about the fallen or the unfallen state? Concerning the fail and the resuhing distortion of human na- ture, John is indeed highly negative, although never sweepingly con- demnatory in the manner of Augustine or Calvin; he nowhere suggests that the fall has led to a total corruption. But when he speaks about the condition prior to the fall — about humankind's true and natural state, which in Christ we can now regain — he is not only af- firmative but optimistic. John is no Manichaean. Human nature in its entirety, body as well as soul, is God's creation, and is therefore good: "God neither caused nor created evif'^^ g^p j^ extrinsic to our true personhood; "No one wants to sin against God.''^' There are many natural virtues, but no natural vices:
Evil or passion is not something naturally implanted in things. God is not the creator of passions. On the other hand, there are many natural virtues that have come to us from Him
— and these include the highest virtues of all, faith, hope and love.^° Such, then, is the basic dualism underlying John's ascetic theol- ogy: not a dualism between God and matter, for God is the creator of matter; not a dualism between soul and body, for The Ladder views the human person as an integral unity; but a dualism between the unfal-
57. l»(9,!.iB), p. 1V2.
5W. 26(H16K(;), p. 2';i.
5W, l()(H4';i)), p. 1.56.
60, 26(I(]2KA), p. 2.tK.
INTRODUCTION
len and the fallen, between the natural and the contranatural, be- tween immortality and corruption, between life and death.
True to this dialectical approach, throughout The Ladder John balances negations with affirmations. The monk is "a soul pained by the constant remembrance of death," yet the motives for his renunci- ation are positive: not just sorrow for sins and fear of punishment, but love of God and longing for the future Kingdom.''' The monas- tery is "a tomb before the tomb," but it is also "heaven on earth."" Exile involves a painful sacrifice — the loss of parents, friends, famil- iar surroundings — but its overriding motive is creative, to make us free for God: "Exile is a separation from everything, in order that one may hold on totally to God."" Obedience is "a total renunciation of our own life . . . death freely accepted," but it is also a "resurrec- tion."^* We are to hold the hour of death in constant remembrance, regarding each day as our last;''^ at the same time we should await death "as though it were life.""
Everywhere John negates in order to affirm. This is true in par- ticular of the chapter which to most contemporary readers appears the harshest and most distasteful of all: Step 5 on repentance, with its grim portrayal of the "Prison" at the Alexandrian monastery. Per- haps John meant us to be shocked by it: "One may suppose," says Fr. Derwas Chitty, "that the writer intended those who were not ready for his work to be put off by this chapter."^'' Yet, even so, the image of repentance that emerges is ultimately positive. If repentance is "hell,"^^ it is also and more fundamentally "resurrection."*^ It is not just death but life — the renewal of our baptismal regeneration. '^^ It is not despair but hope:
. 61.
1 {63 30, p. 74.
62.
4(716B, 713B), pp. 113, III
6.i.
3 {664C), p. 85.
64.
4 (6K0A), pp. 91^92.
65.
6 1797C), p. I3S.
66.
4 (70.5 B), p. 106.
67.
The Desert a City, p. 174,
68.
5 (769B), p. 124.
69.
5 (781A), p. 131.
70.
5 (764B), p. 121.
22
INTRODUCTION
Repentance is the daughter of hope and the refusal to de- spair. (The penitent stands guilty— but undisgraced.) Repen- tance is reconciliation with the Lord.^'
To repent is not only to fear God's wrath but to respond to His love: the grief that accompanies penitence is "the grief that comes from loving God."'^
John's dialectical approach is similarly evident in Step 7, on sor- row and weeping. This chapter on the gift of tears has proved to be one of the most influential in the whole of The Ladder.''^ God, so John points out forcefully— and here his basic optimism is plainly in evi- dence — created us for laughter, not for tears:
God does not demand or desire that someone should mourn out of sorrow of heart, but rather that out of love for Him he should rejoice with the laughter of the soul. Take away sin and then the sorrowful tears that flow from bodily eyes will be superfluous. Why look for a bandage when you are not cut? Adam did not weep before the fall, and there will be no tears after the resurrection when sin will be abolished, when pam, sorrow and lamentation will have taken flight.''*
Tears, then, reflect man's fallen state and express his mourning for sin, Yet there is more to them than that. Tears can be "sweet" as well as "bitter."^5 'Pears that begin by being "painful" become in course of time "painless"; tears of fear develop into tears of love.^''
71. fbid.
72. 5(776D), p. 128.
73. The basic modern study on the gift of tears is still I. Hausherr, Pentios. La doc- tnnvilela componction dans I'Orknt chretien (Orientalia Christiana Anahcta 132: Rome 1944), i-s[>fcially pp. 1 57-73. See also M Lot-Borodine, "Le mystere du 'don des larmes' dans r(>ricnt Chretien", l.a vie spiritiielle (supplement for September 1936), reprinted in O. (Jcment and others, f.a douhttreuse joi( (Spirituaiite orientate 14: Bellefontaine 1974), pp. i.tl-9.?; I,. Ciillct, "The Gift of Teans", Sobomost n.s. 12 (1937), pp. 5-10; G.A. Maloncy, The Mystic of Fire and Light: St Symeon the \'eiv Theologian (Denvilte, N.J. 1975), pp. 129-37; K, Ware, "The Orthodox Experience of Repentance", Sohomosi ii (19811) pp. 26-2K.
74. 7(8090, p. HI.
75. 5 (776A), p. 127.
76. 7{813B), p. 143.
2}
INTRODUCTION
True to his fundamental dialectic, John insists that for the penitent Christian sorrow is constantly interwoven with joy. Tears, like the experience of repentance, spring from a sense not only of our sinful- ness but of God's mercy; there is gladness in them as well as grief. John sums up the point in the composite word cbarmolypi, apparently of his own invention, signifying "joyful sorrow."" The repentant person is like a child who cries, yet smiles in the middle of his tears. ''^ Spiritual mourning leads to spiritual laughter; it is a wedding gar- ment, not a funeral robe:
The man wearing blessed, God-given mourning like a wed- ding garment gets to know the spiritual laughter of the
soul.'"'
Joy goes with sorrow like honey in a comb:
As I ponder the true nature of compunction, I find myself amazed by the way in which inward joy and gladness mingle with what we call mourning and grief, like honey in a comb.
Such compunction, he immediately adds, is a divine charism, not just the fruit of human striving:
There must be a lesson here, and it surely is that compunc- tion is properly a gift from God^°
—a gift, he notes, not conferred upon all, but only upon such as God chooses in His own wisdom."
There are, however, many different kinds of tears, and it is im- portant to discriminate between them. The basic distinction is be- tween tears that are simply the consequence of our own efforts, and those that come as a gift from God^^^in other words, between "ordi-
il .
7 (HtWB), p.
137.
78.
7 (813B), p.
143.
. 79.
7 (809A), p.
140.
80.
7(812A), p.
141.
81.
7 (808A), p.
139.
82.
7 (80.iD). p.
1 39.
24
INTRODUCTION
nary and natural tears" and tears that are "spiritual. "^^ As John ob- serves, this is a distinction not always easy to apply in practice:
This problem of tears, especially where it concerns begin- ners, is a very obscure matter and hard to analyze since tears can come about in various ways. Tears come from nature, from God, from suffering good and bad, from vainglory, from licentiousness, from love, from the remembrance of death »*
Here John indicates at least three levels; these may be designated — although John himself does not actually use this terminology — as con- tranatural, natural, and supranatural. First, tears may come "from vainglory, from licentiousness." Tears of this kind, tears of frustra- tion, anger, jealousy or self-pity, are contranatural, an expression of our fallen self, and as such they are sinful and injurious. Second, our tears may be natural, the result of spontaneous human feelings; in that case they may be neutral, neither good rtor bad, or they may have an effect for good, as with the healing and purifying tears that we shed for the departed. It is not always easy to distinguish between the second level and the third, between natural tears that are pure and beneficial, and the spiritual or supranatural tears that are, in a direct and special sense, "from God." Nature presupposes grace, and grace builds upon nature; so it is possible for natural tears to develop, grad- ually and almost unnoticed, into spiritual tears, without the point of transition being clearly evident to the one who weeps. John believes, nevertheless, that a distinction needs to be made, and that it is only to the supranatural or spiritual tears that the title ''gift of tears" can properly be applied.
When John speaks of "spiritual" tears, it should not be imagined that he means tears that are merely inward and metaphorical. Tears, in his view, even when spiritual, are still manifested visibly and phys- ically; by the "gift of tears" he means something specific and con- crete. Spiritual tears are not merely an event within the soul, but form part of the spiritualization of the body and its physical senses.
81 7 (HIIKC), p HO.
84. 7 |8(I8H), p[> I *9 ^(1.
25
INTRODUCTION
When genuinely spiritual, tears are a renewal of baptism, and even stand on a level higher than baptism itself:
The tears that come after baptism are greater than baptism itself, though it may seem rash to say so. Baptism washes off those evils that were previously u'ithin us, whereas the sins committed after baptism are washed away by tears. The bap- tism received by us as children we have all defiled, but we cleanse it anew with our tears. If God in His love for the hu- man race had not given us tears, those being saved would be few indeed and hard to find.^^
Here the positive character of spiritual tears is manifest. Baptism is renunciation of sin, but it is also in a positive sense rebirth, resurrec- tion, entry into new life. The same is true of the "joyful sorrow" of supranatural tears: negatively it involves mourning for our sins, but positively it expresses joy at our reconciliation. The prodigal son wept as he sat in exile among the swine, shedding tears of sorrow for his sins. But no doubt he also wept on his return home, when the Fa- ther embraced him, clothed him in the festal robe, and put a ring on his hand; and this time the tears were sweet rather than bitter, ex- pressing joy at the love with which he had been welcomed back. The gift of tears includes both these moments on our inward pilgrimage. St. Isaac the Syrian, John's younger contemporary— but there is no reason to believe that they knew each other— develops this same point in his own characteristic way. Tears, he says, mark the point of transition, the frontier between the present age and the age to come. The newborn child weeps on first coming into the world; in the same way the Christian weeps as he is reborn into the age to come:
The fruits of the inner man begin only with the shedding of tears. When you reach the place of tears, then know that your spirit has come out from the prison of this world and has set its foot upon the path that leads towards the new age. Your spirit begins at this moment to breathe the wonderful air which is there, and it starts to shed tears. The moment for the birth of the spiritual child is now at hand, and the
85. 7(804B), p. 137.
26
INTRODUCTION
travail of childbirth becomes intense. Grace, the common mother of us all, makes haste to give birth mystically to the soul, God's image, bringing it forth into the light of the age to come. And when the time for the birth has arrived, the intellect begins to sense something of the things of that other world — as a faint perfume, or as the breath of life which a newborn child receives into its bodily frame. But we are not accustomed to such an experience and, finding it hard to en- dure, our body is suddenly overcome by a weeping mingled with joy.***'
Here we catch precisely the same note as we have heard already in The Ladder; as John puts it, "joy and gladness mingle with what we call.rnourning and grief."
1 he cardinal importance of tears is manifest, but are they essen- tial} Did St. John Climacus consider that only those who have passed through this particular experience of weeping can be regarded as tru- ly repentant and genuinely reborn into tho "new age"? St. Symeon the New Theologian (949-1022), who is much influenced by John's theology of tears, certainly came close to adopting such a view. But John himself is more cautious. We should allow, he urges, for differ- ences in temperament: some shed tears with the utmost difficulty, "like great drops of blood," while others do so "with no trouble at all"; God looks, not at the outward intensity of weeping, but at the inward struggles of our heart. Those who have been granted the gift of tears should on no account imagine themselves superior to those who lack it. "Some are not granted the gift of mourning," but the des- olation that they feel at their tack of tears may take the place of the gift itself.*'
It seems that John's attitude is more qualified than Symeon's. While Symeon thinks in terms of the way of tears, John thinks rather of the gift of tears. For Symeon tears are the King's highway, the roy- al road that all are to follow. For John tears are a charism conferred only upon some, whereas on others God bestows some different gift that takes its place.
NA. Mystic Treatises hy Isaac of Sim-jeh, f- T A. J. VVensinck (Amstcrd:iin \'>1 1), fi, H5 (iiilii]itccl).
H7, 7 (KOK;, KO'JD), pji MK-V, 141. CC, ;r, (1()K«()K [>, 2^V.
27
INTRODUCTION
''My Helper and My Enemy": The Ambivalence of the Body — Em, the Passions, Apatheia
The dialectical stance displayed by St. John Climacus in his treat- ment of repentance and tears is to be seen equally in his attitude to the human body. The body is both adversary and friend: adversary inasmuch as it has been marred by the fall, friend inasmuch as it re- mains God's creation and is called to share in the resurrection glory. To appreciate John's attitude aright, and to avoid unjustly accusing him of an anti-Christian body-soul dualism, it is important to deter- mine on what level he is speaking in each particular passage: whether of the body in its true and natural state, as formed by the Creator, or of the body as we know it now, in its contranatural or fallen condi- tion.
It is not difficult to find negative statements about the body in
The Ladder:
Those gifted with the heart's depth of mourning regard their lives as detestable, painful, and wearying, as a cause of tears and suffering, and they turn away from their body as from an enemy.
Treat your body always as an enemy, for the flesh is an un- grateful and treacherous friend. The more you look after it, the more it hurts you.
The man who pets a lion may tame it but the man who cod- dles the body makes it ravenous.
Some wise men have said that renunciation is hostility to the body.
A monster is this gross and savage body.^^
But, as the context makes clear in these passages, it is the body m its fallen state that John has here in view. Elsewhere he treats the body not as irreclaimably hostile but as ambivalent. By virtue of the
88. 7(K08B), p. 139;9(«41C), p. 153; 14 {«64D), p. 165; 15(«H1D), p. 173; 26 (H)16D), p. 232.
28
INTRODUCTION
fall it is hindrance and enemy; but by virtue of its creation by God it is partner and friend:
By what rule or manner shall I bind this body of mine?. How can I hate him when my nature disposes me to love him? How can I break away from him when I am bound to him forever? How can I escape from him when he is going to rise with me? How can I make him incorrupt when he has received a corruptible nature? ... He is my helper and my enemy, my assistant and my opponent, a protector and a
traitor I embrace him. And I turn away from him. What
is this mystery in me? What is the principle of this mixture of body and soul? How can I be my own friend and my own enemy?^^
In this passage, significantly John implies that there is a continu- ing link between soul and body: "I am bound to him forever ... he is going to rise with me." 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. Scripture teaches us to be- lieve not just in the immortality of the soul but in the resurrection of the body. Even though, as a result of the fall, body and soul are sepa- rated at death, this severance is no more than temporary, and we look beyond it. The body's vocation, therefore, is to be sanctified and transfigured along with the soul: it is to be rendered spiritual, with- out thereby losing any of its God-given materiality. "Your body," we are told, "is a temple of the Holy Spirit . . . glorify God with your* body" {1 Cor. 6:19-20); Christ "will transfigure the body of our hu- miliation, so as to conform it to His own glorious body" (Phil. 3:21).
St. John Climacus shares the standpoint of St. Paul. Alongside the jjassages in The Ladder which treat the body as an enemy, there are olhers that speak positively about its participation in the spiritual life, its resurrection and its final glory. The gift of tears, already dis- cussed, is part of the process of bodily transfiguration: it represents tin- spirituali/ation of the senses. Nor is it only in Step 7 that this (heme of bodily glory is in evidence. At the very outset of The Ladder jolui rtffinns thai the monk's aim is "a body made holy";'*" we seek "to
K9 \S (yOlC -'JIM A I, pp. IKS A, 9)1 1 KiltC), |>. 74
2V
INTRODUCTION
ascend to heaven with the body.'*'^' The same point recurs later in the work- "Everyone should struggle to raise his clay, so to speak to a place on the throne of God. ... I do not think anyone should be classed as a saint until he has made holy his body, if indeed that is possible."^2 And what he here regards as a doubtful eventuality, else- where he affirms as a realized fact:
A man flooded with the love of God reveals in his body, as if in a mirror, the splendor of his soul. . . . Men who have at- tained this angelic state often forget to eat, and I really thmk they do not even miss their food. . - . Indeed I suspect that the bodies of these incorruptible men are immune to sick- ness, for their bodies have been sanctified and rendered in- corruptible.''-'
In certain instances, so John believes, bodily resurrection has ac- tually been anticipated; one example is Hesychius the Horebite, whose tomb was found to be empty.^^ Hesychius' experience is a striking case of the "inaugurated eschatology" assumed in The Ladder; the blessings of the age to come, in John's view, are not merely a fu- ture hope, but are also in some measure a present reality in the lives of the saints. Already in this life the righteous enjoy the first-fruits ot the last things, having "risen to immortality before the general resur- rection,"^^ and in this anticipation of the End the body also has its
John believes, then, in a total sanctification of soul and body to- gether Even the passions, although a consequence of the fall and therefore no true part of human nature, are merely the distortum of the natural impulses implanted in the body (or the soul) 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. In the
91. 1 (636B), p. 75.
92. 26(1064A), p. 248; 15(889C), p. 17».
93. 30 (11576), p. 288. Cf. the story of the monk Menas at Alexandria, whose body flowed with myrrh after his death: 4 (697C), p. 102.
94. 6 (797 A), p. 134.
95. 15(K93A), p. 179; cf. 15(9U4C), p. 186; 28 (1 129B), p. 274.
30
INTRODUCTION
warfare against the passions, our watchword should be "transfigure," not "suppress"; "educate," not "eradicate":
We have taken natural attributes of our own and turned them into passions. For instance, the seed that we have for the sake of procreating children is abused by us for the sake of fornication. Nature has provided us with anger as some- thing to be turned against the serpent, but we have used it against our neighbor. . . . We have a natural desire for food, but not surely for profligacy.''^
Gluttony, so John tells us here, is a vice, but eating as such is by no means sinful; there is nothing wrong about enjoying our food. The practice of fasting implies no condemnation upon the action of eat- ing, but serves to make that action sacramental and eucharistic. Even anger can be turned to good use. As for the sexual impulse, this too is a divine gift, and has its role to play in the life of the spirit. John is not afraid to take the term for physical love, ero^ — which has in Greek many of the same associations as the English word "erotic" — and to apply it to our love for God. The erotic impulse is not to be sup- pressed but redirected:
I have watched impure souls mad for physical love (eros) but turning what they know of such love into a reason for pen- ance and transferring that same capacity for love (ens) to the Lord.
A chaste man is someone who has driven out bodily love (eros) by means of divine love [eras), who has used heavenly fire to quench the fires of the flesh. ^^
Although John says that "bodily love" — meaning in this context /ali- en, impure eras — is to be "driven out," yet its place is to be taken, not by a state t)f frigid detachment, but by a "divine erotic impulse." Fire li quenched by fire, not by water! Even when speaking of physical
•id. l6(lfH>HC),p. 251,
V7, S (777A), p, 129; 15 (HKOD), p. 171,
II
INTRODUCriON
INTRODUCTION
and divine love as "opposites," John still regards the earthly as a true image of the heavenly:
Physical love can be a paradigm of the longing for God. . . .
Lucky the man who loves and longs for God as a smitten lov- er does for his beloved. . . .
Someone truly in love keeps before his mind's eye the face of the beloved and embraces it there tenderly. Even during sleep the longing continues unappeased, and he murmurs to his beloved. That is how it is for the body. And that is how it is for the spirit.*^
The importance of these passages has been rightly emphasized by Dr. Yannaras.'^
Physical eras, then, 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. The sinfulness of passion resides, not in materiality — for as God's creation the material body is good, and in any case not all passions are physical — but in the misdirection of the human will. Sin is not material but spiritual in its origin; for the devil fell before man did so, and the devil has no body.
These conclusions about eros, the body and the passions are con- firmed by an analysis of the term "dispassion" (apatheia), as used by John in Step 29 and elsewhere in The Ladder. Dispassion is not nega- tive but positive: St. Diadochus of Photice (mid fifth century) even speaks of "the fire of dispassion, "'°'' It is a denial of the passions, re- garded as the contranatural expression of fallen sinfulness; but it is a reaffirmation of the pure and natural impulses of our soul and body. It connotes not repression but reorientation, not inhibition but free- dom; having overcome the passions, we are free to be our true selves, free to love others, free to love God. Dispassion, then, is no mere mor- tification of the passions but their replacement by a new and better energy. Using once more the language of "inaugurated eschatology,"
yH. 26(1024B), p. 2 36; 30 (1156CD), p. 287.
99. / metaphysiki tou somatos, pp. 149-66; "Eros divin et eros humain selon S. Jean Climaque", Contacts xxi (1969), pp. 190-204.
100. Century 17: ET Phil., p. 258.
John defines dispassion, not as a form of death, but as "resurrection of the soul prior to that of the body."ioi
John underlines the dynamic, affirmative character of dispassion
.^^."rsr °"'^ "'* '"-• '" -"■ "" """ ''« '= ^^
Love, dispassion and adoption are distinguished by name and name only. ... '
To have dispassion ,s to have the fullness of love, by which I mean the complete indwelling of God. '"^
Dispassion, then, is not indifference or impassivity but burning love ■rot emptiness but the fullness of divine indwelling. Whereas in Stoic cth.cs It tends to be a state of individualistic and self-centered detacT 'd"t>a"- ""h '" '''' 'f'' '' ""P''^^ ^ P^--^' relationship. To be
. A man is truly dispa.ss,onate . . , when he k^eps his soul contin- ually in the presence of the Lord."i03 ^ "^"""^
One thing that dispassion certainly does not mean for John is im- .numty from temptation, impeccability, a condition in which JeZ
'; i^fbTe 'Xs 7' rr'- ^-'r - ^-^-^^y '^'-^ ^^- - sucHta:
words oth. t" '""ir^''"'' ^"^ ^^ ^1"°^^^ -'^h approval the words ot the archdeacon Macedonius:
^ > i'^'V''^ '"^''' '^" '^^y '^^ "°^' °^' "^ «o"ie ^ould have ' .t, that they cannot fall. But men fall, yet they can quickly
J r..se again, as often as this may happen to them," 05
W.r'f T "T ''"' '''' ^^"^"^ "Dispassion consists, not in no longer feeling the passions, but in not accepting them "'o^
As mward resurrection, as a personal relationship with God in lovc^spassion signifies the return to man's unfallen state m para-
I lOi. .'9(1 l4S(:t, p. 2H2.
f- m. i0(l|^6li), p. 2M7;26(II)V2Q p 560
«rX.":r:;:p"7„"" "- "-''"-'• ^"--- '-^--. - v .., ,
I; 104, H(H6 i, 105, 4(6';6l)l, pp. 10 12,
32
J,1
INTRODUCTION
dise, the recovery of the "undying beauty" which he possessed "be- fore this clay."'°^ In paradise man was not a disembodied soul, but a unity of soul and body, a psychosomatic whole; and so dispassion, as the return to paradise, involves not the repudiation of the body and its impulses but their reintegration with the soul and their deliver- ance from "corruption." '°^
The Monk and the World: Brotherhood, Obedience, the Spiritual Father
The Ladder has been blamed, not only for what its critics see as undue severity and pessimism, but also for its apparent individual- ism. It has been pointed out that in none of the thirty steps does St. John Climacus say anything at all about the Church. He never speaks of the episcopate, and his few allusions to the clergy are on the whole uncomplimentary.!"'' He writes for the most part as if the monastic community existed entirely on its own, without forming part of any wider ecclesial structure; the all-embracing unity of Christ's Body seems to be ignored. Scarcely any reference is made to the heavenly Church: the Mother of God is not once mentioned, and although John does speak regularly about the angels, there is very little about the communion of saints. The liturgy, the sacraments, the Church festi- vals are only touched on once or twice in passing.
Silence, however, does not necessarily imply contempt. Pope Gregory the Great in his huge masterpiece the Moralia says almost nothing about the Eucharist, although the work was written at the very heart of ecclesiastical life in Rome; Bernard of Clairvaux, in a sermon dehvered at Mass on Maundy Thursday, makes no more than a single brief allusion to Holy Communion. "° Failure to mention such things need not mean that they are being dismissed as peripher- al; perhaps they are everywhere presupposed, like the air we breathe and the light that enables us to see.
John in any case is writing specifically for monks, and so it is not surprising if he has little to say about Church life outside the monas- tery. As a matter of fact, he does sometimes speak of the monk's ser- vice to society. The monk helps others, so he believes, not so much
1U7. 29(1149D), p. 284.
108. 29(1I48B), p. 282.
109. See, for example, 4 (701C), p. 104; 14 (86.iA), p. 166.
110. C. Butler, Ways of Christian Life (London 19J2), pp. .iKS2,
34
INTRODUCTION
visibly as invisibly—not through exterior works but through inward prayer, and by acting as a presence, a sign, an example:
Angels are a light for monks and the monastic life is a light for all men. Hence monks should spare no effort to become a shining example in all things, and they should give no scan- da! in anything they say or do. " ^
When dealing with his primary theme, life inside the monastery, John is certainly no individualist. On the contrary, he insists very strongly upon the communal character of the monastic life. No one, he stresses, should embark on the solitary life unless he has first un- dergone the experience of living with others, either in a fully orga- nized monastery or in some smaller spiritual "family" pursuing the third way. Throughout Step 4, in particular, John underscores the ne- cessity for adequate preparation before withdrawing into solitude, and the dangers of pride to which the hermit is exposed. ^'^
The two aspects of community life to w^ich John attaches partic- ular importance are brotherly love and obedience. Love forms the top- most rung on the spiritual ladder— love for God, but also love for neighbor, since the two are inseparable; "He who loves the Lord has first loved his brother, for the latter is proof of the former,"ii3 Love for neighbor signifies first of all love for my immediate neighbor, and so in the monk's case it means love for his fellow monks dwelling with him in the same community. The true monk shares to the full in the joys and sorrows of each brother— "he weeps for the sins of that brother and is delighted by his progress"^'*— although this love does not need always to be expressed outwardly in words. '^^ As we have noted, what most impressed John at the monastery that he visited in Kgypt was precisely the quality of loving compassion shown by the monks toward one another:
An unbreakable bond of love joined these men together
Above all, they strove never to injure a brother's conscience.
111, 26(III20D), p, 2H,
112, 4(7(JHA, 7(W(:, 7I2A). pp. 107, IIW, i 10, etc. 11.1, iiiiiH7(:), p. ;hk.
IH. 4 (705A). p. 106.
in, hmn:), p, i.i?.
J 5
INTRODUC'I ION
And if ever someone showed hatred of another, the shepherd banished him like a convict to the isolation monastery. Once when a brother spoke ill of a neighbor, the holy man, on hearing him, had him expelled immediately. "I'm not having a visible devil here along with the invisible one," he said."*
Whenever a quarrel arose, those in authority at the Alexandrian house worked at once to secure a reconciliation. The brethren them- selves, obedient to St. Paul's injunction, "Bear one another's bur- dens" (Gal. 6:2), in mutual love gladly took responsibility for each other's faults.^'^ It was these features above all that made the monas- tery at Alexandria a model in John's eyes.
Along with brotherly love, the second fundamental virtue of the monk in community is obedience. By this John does not mean pri- marily obedience to a written monastic rule; in fact, he nowhere makes any reference to such a rule. He is thinking in more personal terms — of obedience to Christ, and of obedience to the spiritual father as the earthly ikon of Christ the Good Shepherd. For a monk in a fully organized monastery, the spiritual father will normally be the abbot; for a monk following the third way, he will be the geron or abba, the "old man" who heads the small monastic "family."
John is emphatic about the importance of the spiritual father. The ascent of the ladder is not to be undertaken in isolation, but un- der the immediate direction of a guide. Here John takes up a theme central to monasticism from its earliest days."^ In the words of the father of Egyptian monasticism, St. Antony:
I know of monks who fell after much toil and lapsed into madness, because they trusted in their own work and forgot the commandment that says, "Ask your father and he will tell you" (Deut. 32:7). So far as possible, for every step that a - monk takes, for every drop of water that he drinks in his cell,
1 16. 4 (685 A), p. 95; cf. 4 (701 A), p. 104.
117. 4(685D), p. 96.
1!8. On .spiritual fatherhood, see 1, Hausherr, Direction spiritudk sn orient autrefuu (Orientalia Christiana Anakvta 144; Rome 1955); K. Ware, "The Spiritual Father in Or- thodox Christianity", Cross Currents xxiv (1974), pp. 296-3!!
36
INTRODUCTION
he should entrust the decision to the old men, to avoid mak- ing some mistake in what he does."^
Such also is John's conviction. At the start of The Ladder he speaks of the monk's need for "some Moses" to guide him to the Promised Land:
Those of us who wish to get away from Egypt, to escape from Pharaoh, need some Moses to be our intermediary with God, to stand between action and contemplation, and stretch out his arms to God, that those led by him may cross the sea of sin and put to flight the Amalek of the passions. '^o
He returns to the point in the summary at the end of Step 26:
A ship with a good navigator comes safely to port, God will- mg. A soul with a good .shepherd climbs easily heavenward, even if it has earlier done much wrong. ,
A man, no matter how prudent, may easily go astray on a road if he has no guide. The man who takes the road of mo- nastic life under his own direction may easily be lost, even if he has all the wisdom of the world. '^i
The disciple receives guidance from his spiritual father chiefly in two ways: first, by modeling himself on the personal example which the .spiritual father sets in daily life;'" second, through the "disclosure of thoughts," through opening his heart to the spiritual father in what John terms "confession" (exomohgisis), a word that can also mean "ihanksgiving," This is not exactly the same as the sacrament of con- Ifssion, understood as part of the official structure of ecclesiastical penance; for while it may sometimes overlap with sacramental con- fc.s.si
1 19. /he Sdyiiifis of the Ikscrl l-allxrs, Alfihuht-tical collection, Antony .t7-,lH {I'd 65, NHH); Iv'l Si>t 1211, I (6l.)D 6.U.A), p. 75, 121. Jft(l()H9B), p. 259.
p m 4(6H(ll)). p. 91
37
INTRODUCTION
First, the spiritual father to whom the monk confesses need not necessarily be a priest. In all the many passages in The Ladder where John refers to spiritual fatherhood, as also in the special treatise that he wrote on this subject, To the Shepherd, it is in fact nowhere specified that the spiritual father should be in priestly orders; and, as we have seen, there is no evidence that John himself was so ordained, although he certainly exercised the ministry of spiritual fatherhood.
Second, what the monk confesses to his spiritual father are not only his sins but also his doubts and temptations, and still more gen- erally his "thoughts" {logismoi), which may be neutral or even God- inspired as well as sinful. In this disclosure of thoughts the spiritual child lays before his father, so far as he can, all the events that are oc- curring in his life, whether outward or inward, even those that seem to him insignificant; for the spiritual father may see in them a deeper meaning of which the disciple is himself unaware.
St. John Climacus implies that this confession to the spiritual fa- ther will if possible take place daily; and he mentions the practice of certain monks at Alexandria who wrote down their thoughts at once in a notebook hanging from their belt, which they later showed to the abbot, '23 Normally the disclosure of thoughts is in private, but the spiritual father may sometimes insist on a public confession, for the good of the disciple or perhaps of the community, i^'* Whether the confession is private or public, the underlying principle is the same: "Nothing gives demons and evil thoughts such power over us as to nourish them and hide them in our hearts unconfessed."'^^ But, once brought into the open, they become powerless. As one of the monks at Alexandria said to John, describing what had happened to him after "a bad spiritual failure":
But since it was never my custom to conceal a snake in the hiding place of my heart I grabbed it forthwith by the tail — meaning that I ended the matter — and I revealed it at once to the healer. He gave me a light blow on the chin, smiled, and said to me, "All right, child, go back to your job and do not
123. 4(70lCD), p. 105.
124. 4(6SlB), p. 93.
125. 23 (y76D), p. 211.
38
INTRODUCTION
be in the slightest way afraid." With heart on fire I did as I was told, and within a few days I knew I was cured. '2*'
It is, however, sometimes unnecessary, and even unwise, to con- fess sins in detail, for fear of reviving the sinful impulse within us. This IS the case in particular with sins against chastity: "Do not in- sist," John advises, "on confessing your carnal acts in detail, since you might become a traitor to yourself."'" As St. Mark the Ascetic {alias Mark the Hermit or Monk) observes, "To recall past sins in detail in- flicts injury on the man who hopes in God. . . . They pollute him again with the old defilement."'^^
In the passage quoted above, it is significant that the Alexandrian monk refers to his spiritual father as "the healer." This is characteris- tic of The Ladder. When speaking of confession, John employs by pref- erence imagery that is therapeutic rather than juridical. Confession does not merely bestow absolution from guilt, understood in a formal and legalistic fashion, but on a deeper, more organic level it confers healing and restoration to wholeness. Sin is disease; to go to confes- sion is to enter the hospital and to expose'our wounds; the spiritual father is the doctor who makes us inwardly whole by prescribing medicines, by bandaging, cauterizing, amputating. '^-^
In this relationship between patient and physician— between spiritual child and father— what is required first of all from the child is openness of heart. If this is lacking, if the disciple in disclosing his thoughts deliberately conceals or misrepresents, then obviously the whole object of the confession is frustrated; the doctor cannot help if the patient lies about his ailments, '^o Besides openness of heart, the spiritual child needs to show trust and faithfulness. Look carefully, John urges, before choosing your spiritual father; but, having once chosen him, remain with him permanently. Those who move light-
i;!".. 4 (6y7A), p. 102.
127. 2H (1140A), p. 2H1
1 2»*. On thnse -a-hii think thai they an made ritrhteotis hy "^orks, 5 1 39 (PG 6^ 9^"2B)- ET /'*(/., } l.'l, p. I3H.
12'>, Kor such iiu-tiipliDrs, sec On- example 4 (71f)A), p. |]2; .^ (776(';), p. H(l, uni) »[>me nil /',«;. 2 (1 IAHD I IC'H:). |,,,. j.ii-!. Oti eonfessioti as n f..rni of tieiilinji, mv K, Wiirc, "'I'lic OnlirnL.v I'vpcrienie of KefHTilJiice", S„hiinimt li { Vm\) pji 2l-iti,
HO. I'ml. 7(1IH4A»), p. 2k>.
V>
INTRODUCTION
mindedly from one confessor to another make no progress, and "de- serve every punishment from God."^^' Even if your spiritual father is guilty of fornication, you should not leave him.'^z It is not for you to judge him and his actions:
When the thought strikes you to judge or condemn your su- perior . . . give no trust, place, entry, or starting point to that snake. Say this to the viper: "Listen to me. ... I do not judge him; he judges me."'^''
But of course on his side the spiritual father is responsible before God for the example that he sets his disciples: he should act with pru- dence, not revealing his own faults too readily, for fear of giving needless scandal.'^'*
What does the spiritual father provide in return for this openness and trust? He is, as we have seen, the physician who makes us inward- ly whole. This he does, not only by his words of advice, but by his life; not only by imparting rules or imposing penances, but by offer- ing a personal relationship within which the disciple can grow to ma- turity. And this personal relationship is established above all through prayer. The spiritual father helps his children by interceding for them. This is clearly seen in The Sayings of the Desert Fathers: what you say when you visit your abba is "Pray for me." John also insists on this, 135 remarking that the obedient monk, even if he raises the dead, will nevertheless believe that it is the prayers of his spiritual father which have enabled him to do this.'-^''
But the spiritual father is more than an intercessor. He is also, in John's words, a "mediator" between us and God, an "intermediary" (mesitis) who reconciles us to Him.'-^' He is the friend of the Great King, who can plead on our behalf with boldness in the royal pres-
131. 4 (680D, 709D), pp. '>2, 1 10.
132. 4(724B), p. 117.
133. 4 (681 A), p. 93.
134. Past. 8(11K4C), p, 237.
135. See for example 4 (677D), p. 'M; ]) mm, p 1«0.
136. 4 (705D-7()KA), p. 107.
137. 1 (636A), p. 75.
40
INTRODUCTION
ence.'^^ This means, says John, that to sin against our spiritual father is in a sense worse than to sin against God:
What I am going to say to you now must not shock you. . . . It is better to sin against God than against our father. If we make God angry, our director can reconcile Him to us. But if he is angry, then there is no one to speak up for us before God.>3«
The paradox is deliberate, but the point is clear. This mediation, furthermore, works in both directions. Not only does the spiritual fa- ther represent us to God, but he also represents God to us. His words have the value of God's words. As one of the monks at Alexandria said to John about the abbot:
I thought of the shepherd as the image of Christ. ... I -, thought of the command [that he gave me] as coming not •Si from him but from God.''*° !'' ' '
Physician, intercessor, mediator — the spiritual father is all this. But John goes further still. He also describes the spiritual father as anadochos,^*^ the term used for the sponsor or godparent at baptism, and so signifying one who takes responsibility for another. In John's view, the spiritual father does nothing less than assume responsibility for his disciple's sins, for which he will answer before God at the Last Judgment. Thus the disciple can face death without anxiety, "know- ing with certainty that when it is time to go, not he but his spiritual director will be called to render an account. "'"^^
"1 thought of the shepherd as the image of Christ," said the Alex- andrian monk to John. As sponsor or anadocbos, the shepherd of souls is called to be a living ikon of the unique Good Shepherd. He is to
LfM
I'lisl. Ml 1721)), p
. 233.
13'>
4 (72St)|, p, IIV,
H(t
4 {f.<>2\\). p. W;ct
. 4 (7IWA), [
1. I(W
HI
I'ast. Ill IIIM'iH),
). 2.17,
Hi
4(70S»), p, 107,
INTRODUCTION
show the same sacrificial love as the Savior displayed when dying on the Cross for the sins of the world:
It is love that shows who is the true shepherd; for by reason of love the Great Shepherd was crucified. i"*^
Among the many qualities that John mentions in his treatise on spiri- tual fatherhood To the Shepherd, this is the most important. The father should possess insight, discretion, dispassion, gentleness tempered by severity. But above all he needs to show self-emptying love, for with- out such love no one can be a shepherd after the image of Christ. He needs to have compassion, using this word in its true and full sense; he is required to lay down his life for his children, offering up on their behalf all that he has and all that he is. As John puts it, "spiritual responsibility (anadochi) in the proper sense ... is a laying down of one's soul on behalf of the soul of one's neighbor in all matters."'**
While every monk is called to bear the burdens of others, the burden-bearer ^ar excellence is the spiritual father: "Let your father be the one who is able and willing to labor with you in bearing the bur- den of your sins."'"*^ By thus interpreting the spiritual father's role in terms of Galatians 6:2, St. John Climacus shows himself a true follow- er of the sixth-century school of Gaza — of St. Varsanuphius, St. John the Prophet, and St. Dorotheus — all of whom appeal to the same Pau- line precept.'**' Applying their teaching, John gives an example from his own experience: for twenty years a monk had suffered from un- speakable and blasphemous thoughts, and could gain no relief. Even- tually he wrote the temptation on a piece of paper, went to a holy man and gave him the paper. After reading it, the old man said: "My son, put your hand on my neck. . . . Now let this sin be on my neck. . . . From now on, ignore it." At once the brother was freed
HI I'ust. 5 (1177B}, p. 2.H.
144. Past. 12(11H3B), p. 2J9,
14V J (665D), p. H7. Cf. 24 (9H4C), p. 217; Past. 2 {1169B), p. 233; 12 (11H9BC), pp. 219 41).
14Ci, \'arsiiiuiphius and John, Correspondence, ed. S. Schoinas {V'olos 1960), §5 168-9, IK9. ivi, 199, 203, 206, 239, 4H3; French trans, by L. Regnault (Solesmes 1972), 44 72-73, 94, 96, 104, lOK, 111, 239, 4K3, et passim. Dorotheus, Instructions iv (ed. L. Regnault, Sourm chrcrienncsn [Paris 1963], H 56-57, pp. 240-2); vi (4 79, p. 288).
42
INTRODUCTION
from the thoughts of blasphemy, nor did they trouble him subse- quently.'*^
From all this it is abundantly clear how exacting, in the eyes of St. John Climacus, are the demands made upon the spiritual father. There can, indeed, be no earthly vocation higher than this:
We can offer to God no gift so acceptable as to bring Him through repentance souls made in His image. The whole world is not worth so much as a soul.'**
Prayer and Stillness: The Invocation of the Name
"Prayer," says St. John Climacus, "is by nature a dialogue and a union of man with God." As such, it is cosmic in scope, the founda- tion of the universe: "Its effect is to hold the world together." '*■* It is the primary end for which the human person was created — "What higher good is there than to cling to the Lord and to persevere in un- ceasing union with Him?"'^° — and it constitutes the touchstone of a monk's entire existence: "Your prayer shows where you stand. . . . Prayer is a monk's mirror."'^' In the words of Bishop Theophan the Recluse: "Prayer is the test of everything. ... If prayer is right, every- thing is right."'^^
Thanksgiving, penitence, petition — such is the basic sequence to be followed when praying:
Heartfelt thanksgiving should have first place in our book of ' prayer. Next should be confession and genuine contrition of
\'
^ 147. 23 (98I1AH), p. 213. For parallels to this incident in other texts, see J. Gouil- \*ri\, "ChristJanisniL' by/antin et slave", Ecote pratique des hautes etudes. V^ section. Sciences tvllf'li-li.ies- .tnniinire Iwxii (Fari.s 1974), pp. 215-17.
I4H. I'asi. 1 I (1 196D), p. 244. John refers to .spiritual brotherhood as well as spiritu- NJ fttlherhouii: 1
149. 2K(1129A). p, 274,
Hll. 28 (1H6A), p. 27H.
Id. 28 (IH^C), p. 278.
i ilod \''iif>). p. !|
•4*
IN'I'RODUCTION
soul. After that should come our request to the universal King.'"
We are not to begin by confessing our sins. Before peering downward at our own ugliness, we are to gaze outward and upward at the beau- ty of God. So it is in the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom (not that St. John Climacus appeals to this particular example): we do not commence with an act of penitence but with a proclamation of divine glory, "Blessed is the Kingdom of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. . . ." Only after receiving a glimpse of this heavenly Kingdom can we be- gin to repent as we should. Otherwise penitence becomes a form of grumbling, an expression of bitterness or self-loathing rather than hope. Penitence, John adds, should accompany us throughout the journey of prayer: "Even if you have climbed the whole ladder of the virtues, pray still for the forgiveness of sins. "'^**
John is categorical about the value of simplicity in our prayer. We are to avoid garrulousness, ^o/y/o^/a, multiplicity of words:
Pray in all simplicity. The publican and the prodigal son were reconciled to God by a single utterance. ... In your prayers there is no need for high-flown words, for it is the simple and unsophisticated babblings of children that have often won the heart of the Father in heaven. Try not to talk excessively in your prayer, in case your mind is distracted by the search for words. One word from the publican sufficed to placate God, and a single utterance saved the thief. Talkative prayer (polylogia) frequently distracts the mind and deludes it, whereas brevity {monologia) makes for concen- tration. If it happens that, as you pray, some word evokes de- light or remorse within you, linger over it.'^'
While, then, it is necessary, at any rate in the earlier stages, to use words when we pray — "enclose your mind [or thought] within the words of your prayer," John urges'^^ — these words should be as di- rect, concise and uncomplicated as possible.
153. 28 (n32A), p. 275.
154. 28 (II32B), p. 276.
155. 28(1129D, 1132AB), pp. 275-6.
156. 28
44
INTRODUCTION
In thus recommending the use of short, simple prayers, it seems that John had in view various possible formulae: this is implied by the advice just quoted, "if . . . some word evokes delight or remorse with- in you, linger over it." Sometimes, like the Desert Fathers in fourth- century Egypt, he suggests the employment of a verse from the Psalms:
Cry out to God, Who has the strength to save you. Do not bother with elegant and clever words. Just speak humbly, beginning with, "Have mercy on me, for I am weak" {Ps
6:3).'"
Elsewhere John proposes a series of different scriptural texts for the monk to ponder, leaving him free to choose which he prefers: for, as he puts it, "all the loaves of heavenly bread do not have the same ap- pearance. "'^b
There is, however, one type of simple prayer to which John attaches particular importance; the invocation or remembrance of the Name of Jesus, the Jesus Prayer. '^^ j^ is true that he refers to it only three times'^^o in the entire Ladder, so that it cannot be regarded as a dominant theme in his spiritual teaching as a whole. In this respect there is a marked contrast between John and his follower St. Hesy- chius of Sinai, who mentions the Jesus Prayer continually throughout his work On Watchfulness and Holiness. But the three passages in The
157. 15 (900D), p. 184. On the Egyptian practice, see Dom L. Rcgnauir, "La priere ciintinueile 'monologisfos' dans la litterature apophtegmatique", Irenikiin xlvii (1974) pp. 467-y3.
158. 27 (I il6A), p. 272. Short prayers can be used in particular during the antipho- nal recitation of the Divine Office, while the opposite side of the choir is singiuK' cf 19 (V37D), p. 195.
159. For Climacus' teaching on the Jesus Prayer, see "Un .Vloine de I'Egiise d'Or- ient" I Archimandrite [.cv Gillet (1892-1980)], La Priere de Jesus (3rd ed., Chevetogne 1959), pp. 2 7-28: K.r, "A .Monk of the Eastern Church", The Prayer of Jesus, tran.slated by "A Monk of the Western Church" (New York/Tournai 1967)," pp." 28-29; I. Hausherr, Noms ilu Christ el votes d'araisim lOriaiialia Chrisitana Analecta 157: Rome 1960), pp. 248- JJ; K'l" I'hf Name (if Jesus, translated by C, Cummings (Cistercian Studies Series 44: Kalama- »,(»ii 1978), pp. 280-6. !■>. Iliuisherr, while rightly protesting thai mo much sluiutd not tw read in(o ihi- %hori stntenu-nis of Climacus, surely goes too far iii ilir opposite ilirce- (dm, atlopiing un unduly "rediiclionist" view
160 l'o^^||l|y I here is ii foiinli reference in 9(8410, p, 15 1, where ( :liiiiiit'uii %\\t*\k* lit (ifim I prnsevchi. but nioic piulMblv lliis luiMiis ilie Lord's I'myn.
:; ' %
45
INTRODUCTION
Ladder, since they have greatly influenced subsequent writers, deserve to be considered with particular care,
(1) In Step IS, when discussing the impure thoughts suggested to us by the demons immediately before we go to sleep, John says;
Let the remembrance of death and the concise Jesus Prayer go lo sleep with you and get up with you, for nothing helps you as these do when you are asleep-^'^i
Note here, first of all, the words "Jesus Prayer" {lisou evcbi): St. John Climacus is, it seems, the earliest author to use this expression. At the same time, he describes the Jesus Prayer as "concise" or, more literal- ly, as "monologic" (monologistos), a term that means "consisting in a single phrase": John seems to be once again the first author to apply this adjective to prayer. The epithet monologistos calls to mind the con- trast, in the passage cited earlier, '^^ between talkativeness {polylogia) and brevity {monologia); thus the Jesus Prayer is being commended as an example of short, simple prayer.
But what exactly does John intend by this term "single-phrase Je- sus Prayer"? Nowhere in The Ladder does he give a specific formula. The same is true of John's follower Hesychius: while very frequently using the term "Jesus Prayer" — and on one occasion the phrase "mon- ohgistos prayer" ''■^ — he refrains from giving a precise form of words. It has been argued — in particular by Fr. Hausherr — that John merely envisages, in a general way, any brief prayer for help, not necessarily including the name of Jesus. But in that case why should John say, not just "single-phrase prayer," but "single-phrase Jesus Prayer"? Surely it is more probable that the prayer contained the actual word "Jesus" as part of the "single phrase." The second of our three pas- sages, to be considered shortly, confirms this by explicitly mention- ing the name of Jesus.
Yet, if our supposition is correct, it does not therefore follow that the "single-phrase Jesus Prayer" contains only the name of Jesus and nothing else. To judge from other writers prior to The Ladder or con-
161. 1.';(889D), p. 178.
162. 28(113 26), p. 27 5: see above, note \Si.
163. On Watchfulness and Holiness ii, 72 (PG 93, 1536B); ET Phil., 5 174. p. 193 (the translators have added the word "Jesus" before "prayer").
46
INTRODUCTION
temporary with it, we would expect the name to be combined with further words as well; for none of the early texts speaks of employing the invocation "Jesus" on its own. Diadochus of Photice, for example, advises the use of a prayer beginning "Lord Jesus . . .", apparently fol- lowed by something more, although he does not tell us what.'^" Var- sanuphius and John of Gaza suggest various formulae, such as:^^^
"Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me" "Lord Jesus Christ, save me" "Master Jesus, protect me" "Jesus, help me"
— but never "Jesus" alone. What in later Orthodox spirituality has be- come the standard form of the Prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of (lod, have mercy on me," is first found in The Life of Abba Philemon,^*'*' an Egyptian text perhaps more or less contemporary with The Ladder. It is probable, then, that the "single-phrase Jesus Prayer" contained more than the simple invocation of the name. John, however, does not tell us exactly what is in his "single phrase," and so it may be that, like V'arsanuphius and John of Gaza, he envisages a variety of possi- ble texts. Writing as he was at a time when the wording of the Jesus Prayer had not yet become stereotyped, he may have preferred to leave each reader free to make his own choice among the different forms.
'I'hree matters strike us about the context of the Jesus Prayer in Step 1 5. First, it is linked with the remembrance of death. This sug- m*.Ms that John saw the Jesus Prayer as, among other things, a prayer «»!' contrition and penitence. Probably, then, he expected the Prayer to ini'liidc the words "have mercy on me" or the equivalent; as already noted, he recommends the use of Psalm 6:3, "Have mercy on me. . . ." Second, the Prayer is seen as a weapon against the demons. Third, its ILfC is specially commended when on the threshold of sleep. On the
Ift4, Cenluiy 59, 6h I'hil., |)|>. 270-1.
165 CitnafKiiulrncf U-ii. Sclioinas), 55 39, 126, 255, 268, 446, 659; TretK-li tniiis l>y KrHiintllt, 44 t9. 175, 255, 26K, 446, ft59. Sec al.su l)nrolhl■^l^, l.iff I'f Dusilhi'iii 111 (ctl l tlKtlll, .ViiHKci ihieltniiu-v '>l, p I IK|
\M\ I'hitiikiiliii lull ii-iiiH nifitikun ((ireck texl), vol, 11 (Athens I95H1, |i. .'44 tin ih« llll|i )p ill, jlfU*' "i MtitaKti Ut riivanhut Jii I'ltliianhe rmsr en liiintpf lUiiJtniale 7 M (191 1), |i|) JKSK,
47
INTRODUCTION
second and the third point, John's approach resembles that of Diado- chus.'"
(2) The second of the three passages occurs in Step 21. John is dis- cussing the childish fear that overcomes a monk at night when enter- ing some dark place alone. The solution, he says, is to arm yourself with prayer:
When you reach the spot, stretch out your hands and flog your enemies with the name of Jesus, since there is no stronger weapon in heaven or on earth. '^*
Here, certainly, John has in view not just any short prayer for help but specifically the invocation of the name "Jesus." As in Step 15, this is seen as a weapon against the demons. He further suggests a particu- lar bodily posture, with the arms outstretched in the form of a cross. This he also recommends elsewhere, but without referring to the name of Jesus. '^^
(3) The third and most important passage comes in Step 27, on solitude or stillness:
Stillness (hesychia) is worshipping God unceasingly and wait- ing on Him. Let the remembrance of Jesus be present with your every breath. Then indeed you will appreciate the val- ue of stillness.' '^
There is no explicit reference here to "the Jesus Prayer" or to "the name of Jesus," but only to "the remembrance of Jesus." It may be, then, that in this passage John is not thinking of a short formula of prayer, frequently repeated, but of "keeping Jesus in mind" in a more dif- fused and general sense. But it is also possible that the "remem- brance" is in fact the same as the "single-phrase Jesus Prayer"; and that is how most later readers of The Ladder have understood the text. Three points of interest arise in this passage. First, John states that the remembrance of Jesus should be so far as possible uninter- rupted. In the other two passages the Jesus Prayer or invocation of
167. Century 3!: Phi!., pp. 261-2.
168. 21 (945C), p. 200.
169. 15 (900C), p. 184.
170. 27 (1112C), pp. 269-70.
48
INTRODUCTION
the name is recommended for use in particular situations — when fall- ing asleep, when alone in the dark — but in this third text John envis- ages something all-embracing and continuous. Once more, his teaching resembles that of Diadochus, who insists emphatically that the remembrance or invocation of Jesus shall be unceasing.''''
Second, John says that the remembrance of Jesus is to "be pres- ent with your every breath"; a more literal translation would run, "be united with your breathing." The phrase has been variously inter- preted. Some see in it no more than a metaphor: we should remember God as often as we breathe"^ — John is simply underlining his point about "worshipping God unceasingly." Others give the phrase a far more precise sense: in their view, John has in mind a physical tech- nique whereby the "single-phrase Jesus Prayer" is linked with the rhythm of the breathing. Such a technique is certainly advocated in a Coptic source, not easily dated, but perhaps slightly later than John:
Is it not easy to say with every breath, "Our Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me; I bless Thee, my Lord Jesus, help me'
'1173
In the Greek tradition, however, there are no clear and unambiguous references to a "breathing technique" until the late thirteenth and the early fourteenth century, in the works of St. Nicephorus of Mount Athos, St. Gregory of Sinai, St. Gregory Palamas, and others."'* ll Now it is true that St. John Climacus accepts the basic principle underlying the physical method propounded by these later writers;
171, Ceniiiry .TO, K5, HH, and especially 97: Phil., pp, 270, 28.i, 287, 29.U4.
172. Compare, for example, Gregory of Nazian/us, Oration 27, 4 [K 16, 16B), and Nllu.i iif Ancyra, Letters I, 2.59 (I'C 79, 169D), where the meaning is apparently no more thun nifiaphiirical.
17.). "The \'irttics of St. Macarius", ed. E. Amclineau, Htstoire ties monasteres dc la Htust'l-lgyfilc (Annale.v du Miisee Guimet xxv; Paris 1894), p. 161; cited in J. Couillard, hliie I'hiloaiUe JfMis I'i'.iycr III ihe (^)ptic Maeanan cycle, see A, Ciiillaiimont, "Une inscription coptc «llf til 'I'lirrr ile Jesus'", (hieiiluliii Chiiniaiui t'fiutdka .vx.viv (196K), pp, no 25, "I he Jroin l'i,i\cT aiiHjiiK ilie Monks of I'.yypi", liMleni C.hiircha keview vi (19741, pp 66 7| I'rolrHMir ( tiiillaiiiiiont dales the U-xl (pioied lo the 7th-Hth centuries
174, See I, I lausliciT, l.ii methiide d'uraison hhyehaste {Oncnialm Cbnutiim u, tio Irti Hmiir 1927); J, (iiiiiiMnnl, "A Note on the Pniyer of the Mean", in J M D^i'lmrt;), ( hitiian Yfiifii (IVieiinnil l.ihmry New York 1972), pp, 217 Hi; K VVttrp, " llli' Jrallt I'rtiviT Iti ht (irrjjnrv ol Siiiiii", liasttin (.'hunhfi Hrrinv iv (Villi, p(i \4 Ift
4V
INTRODUCTION
like them, he recognizes that the mind conforms to the body, that our outward posture influences our inward state. '^^ But only in this one sentence in Step 27 does he refer specifically to the breathing in con- nection with the name of Jesus; the point is not developed, and it would be perilous to base too much on a single phrase. In default of further evidence, it seems wiser to interpret the words metaphorical- ly. Probably the parallel phrase in Hesychius'^'' should also be given a metaphorical sense; but Hesychius' wording is slightly more precise than John's, for he alters "remembrance of Jesus" to "Jesus Prayer," and when speaking elsewhere of the Jesus Prayer he makes a number of other references to the breathing. ''''
Third, in the passage quoted John indicates a connection be- tween "the remembrance of Jesus" and the attitude of stillness {hesy- chia). Constantly to keep Jesus in remembrance is a way of attaining inner quiet: the Jesus Prayer helps to make the monk into a "hesy- chast," one who possesses silence of heart. Hesychia^''^ is a key word in John's doctrine of prayer, and the step which he devotes to it has proved, with the possible exception of Step 7 on the gift of tears, the most influential in the whole of The Ladder, By "stillness" he means both an outward manner of life — that of the hermit or solitary, living in a cell on his own — and also an inner disposition of continual prayer, as in the passage under discussion: "Stillness is worshipping God unceasingly."'^''
It is the second sense that chiefly concerns John in Step 27 — not
175. 15 (W)OC), p. 1H4; 26 (lOOOD-HlOl A), p. 227; 28 (1133B), p. 277; but in these passages there is no reference to the breathing, The allusion to "breathing God" in 4 (68HC), p. 97, is surely metaphorical. But in 4 (724B), p, 117 and 14 (H69A), p. 169, the sense is less clear: John may mean that the repetition of a short phra.sc from Scripture is to be linked with the rhythm of the breathing, but once more a metaphorical sense is possible-
17A. "Let ihc Jesus Prayer cleave to your breath \or breathing]": On Watchfulness and Holiness \i,m){l'(; 9}. 15-'7D): F.'V Phil, 5 1H2, p, 195,
177. On Watchfulness and Holiness i, 5; ii, 68, 85, 87 (1481D, 153JC, 1540CD); Phil., 44 5, 170, 187, 189 (pp. 16.*, 192, 195, 196). But in none of these passages is a metaphorical interpretation excluded.
178. See 1. Ilausherr, "L'hesychasme. Etude de spiritualite", in Hesychasme et priere (Orientalia Christiana Analecta 176: Rome 1966), pp. 163-2.17; K. Ware, "Silence in Prayer; the Meaning of Hesychia", in B. Pennington (ed.), One yet Two (Cistercian Studies Series 29: Kalamazoo 1976), pp. 22-47.
179. See note 170.
«n
INTRODUCTION
physical isolation but interior silence. Sometimes, certainly, he has in view both the outward and the inward at the same time:
Close the door of your cell to your body, the door of your tongue to talk, and the gate within to evil spirits.*^°
But more often it is the inward level, "the gate within," of which he is speaking, as in his celebrated definition of the hesychast:
Strange as it may seem, the hesychast is a man who fights to keep his incorporeal self shut up in the house of the body. ' ^ '
The meaning here is, not that the hesychast dwells spatially separated from others in the desert, but that he confines within his body the powers of his soul, his thoughts, desires, imagination and the rest; he is not dispersed, but concentrated upon a single point. The hesy- thast's true journey is not outward and physical, into the wilderness, but inward and spiritual, into the sanctuary of the heart. John is say- ing the same as St. Basil the Great:
When the intellect is no longer dissipated among external things or dispersed across the world through the senses, it returns to itself; and by means of itself it ascends to the thought of God. '^^
The hesychast is the one who has "returned to himself," who has, in St. Isaac the Syrian's phrase, "entered into the treasure house that is within.""*^ He has constantly within him what John calls "unseen meditation," "** "mental prayer" or "noetic activity" {noera ergasia).'^^^ L'nderstanding stillness in this inward sense, we see that it is pos- niltlc to be a hesychast even though committed to works of direct ser- vice to others: the hesychast is not just the solitary, but anyone who
IHO. 27 (JKHIA), p. 263.
IHI. 27 (MI97H). p. 262.
IH2, iHlcrl U'd !2, 228A).
IHI. .\tYslii I realises, KT Wen.sinck, p. H (atlapted).
IK4 t (Wi4H), p. H5.
IHV 4(6K* . 'M.
!1
INTRODUCTION
preserves interior silence amidst outward confusion. '^^ This, indeed, is the highest form of hesycbia. It is a great thing, says John, to achieve stillness in the isolation of a hermit's cell; but "it is incomparably greater to have no fear of turmoil, and to remain steadfast under its assault with a fearless heart, living outwardly with men but inwardly with God.*'i«'
Interpreted in this manner, as the hidden silence of the heart, he- sychia signifies in The Ladder more particularly what Evagrius terms "pure prayer" — prayer, that is to say, unaccompanied by words, im- ages or concepts. "Stillness means the expulsion of thoughts," writes John,'*^ adapting a well-known phrase of Evagrius, "Prayer is the ex- pulsion of thoughts."!^'' But "expulsion" is perhaps too violent a word. John and Evagrius employ the term apothesis, which means "shedding," "putting aside": not a savage extirpation or brutal sup- pression of our thoughts, but a gentle yet persistent act of detachment or "letting go."
Heyschia or stillness, then, is the same as "the wordless prayer of the spirit," ''^° as distinguished from the singing of psalms and hymns, the liturgical prayer of the divine office. Evidently it is this "pure" or wordless prayer of stillness that John has in view when he describes prayer as "a turning away from the world, visible and invisible,"'^' or when he says, "Do not form sensory images during prayer."'''^ Such remarks would not be applicable to all forms of praying.
We can now grasp more fully what John intends when, in Step 27, he connects the "remembrance of Jesus" with the state of stillness. The remembrance or invocation of Jesus is one of the ways — not nec- essarily the only one — whereby the aspirant upon the spiritual way is enabled to advance from oral to wordless prayer. Here, as so often in his teaching on the Jesus Prayer, John seems to be following Diado- chus of Photice. The human intellect, so Diadochus observes, cannot rest inactive; if it is to be prevented from dispersing itself among a
186. 4 (700C). p. 10.^.
187. Past, 9 (n85A), p. 237-, cf. 27 (l(W7B), p. 262.
188. 27(I112A), p. 269.
189. On Prayer, 5 70 (PC 79, 1 181C): E'C Phil., 5 71, p. 64.
190. 19 (9.nD), p. 195: literally "non-material prayer."
191. 28(HJ3C), p. 277.
192. 28(11360), p. 279.
52
INTRODUCTION
multiplicity of sensory objects, it must be provided with some inner task to satisfy its "need for activity." This need, according to Diado- chus, is met by the Jesus Prayer:
For the complete fulfilment of its purpose we should give the intellect nothing but the prayer "Lord Jesus". . . . Let the intellect continually concentrate on these words within its inner shrine with such intensity that it is not turned aside to any mental images. '^^
The Jesus Prayer is in itself an oral prayer like any other; but, because the words are so very simple, the discipline of frequent repetition helps the intellect to gather itself together, to pass from multiplicity lo unity, and so to reach out beyond all words into the pure prayer of stillness. Such is Diadochus' teaching. John is less explicit, but he seems to uphold the same standpoint: the invocation of the Holy Name forms the gateway to hesychia.
Stillness, as we have seen, is defined by Jiohn as the unceasing wor- ship of God. For the true hesychast, inward prayer is not so much an occasional occupation as a continuous state; it is not merely one activ- ity among others, but the activity of his whole life. He strives to fulfill the command, "Pray without ceasing" (1 Thess. 5:17). His prayer con- tinues even in his sleep; as John puts it, "A hesychast is like an angel on earth ... he says, 'I sleep, but my heart is awake' " (Song of Songs 5i2);''''* he is "at work not only when awake but also when he is a.slcep."'''^ In the words of St. Isaac the Syrian, "Even when he is im- mersed in sleep, the perfumes of prayer will breathe in his soul spon- taneously."'''^ In this way the hesychast is not someone who says prayers from time to time, but someone who is prayer all the time. I lis prayer becomes in the true sense prayer of the heart, meaning by "heart" not only the emotions and affections but, as in Scripture, the tntjliiy of the human person dwelling in communion with God. In (In- words of The Ladder: "i cried out with all my heart,' said the
IVl. Ctntury SV: Phil., p. 271).
194, 27 (IKHtA), p. 261.
|9(, 27 (I1I6H), p, 272, I'l- 2()(
|9ft, Mytlit I'rriiims, I''. I VVcnsinik, p, 174.
51
INTRODUCTION
psalmist (Ps. 118:145). He is referring to body, soul and spirit."''^ So the hesychast prays with his whole heart, with every aspect of his be- ing, conscious, subconscious, supraconscious. He is identified with his prayer,
Divine Light and Divine Love
Such is the hesychast's aim as he mounts the unseen ladder: a di- rect touching, a simple gazing upon God that will be, so far as possi- ble, continuous and free from mental pictures and discursive thought. And what lies beyond this? John is guarded. He does not use the lan- guage of "deification" or "divinization" (tbeosis), widespread among the Greek Fathers. But, while offering no detailed descriptions, he provides a few hints. The highest level of prayer, he says, is "rapture (arpagi) in the Lord,"'''* but he does not develop the point. Once he alludes to a visionary experience of his own;'*''* evidently this was ec- static in character, for he says, recalling St. Paul's words (2 Cor. 12:2), "and whether, during ail this, I was in the body or out of it, I cannot rightly say." Yet in this vision it was not with Christ Himself that John spoke, but with an angel.
This is, moreover, an isolated passage; he does not speak else- where of receiving such visions. He does, however, refer in a number of places to experiences of light or illumination, although it is not easy to determine how far the language is intended to be more than metaphorical. The main passages are these:
(1) Overcome by chastity, the lust in our souls "receives that non-material (aylon) light which shines beyond all fire."^™
(2) Purity of heart leads to "enlightenment" or "illumination." This "is something indescribable, an activity [or energy (energeia)] that is unknowingly perceived and invisibly seen."^*"
(3) "The truly obedient monk often becomes suddenly radiant and exultant during his prayers. "^'^■^
197. 28 (1140B), p. 2N1. For this sense of "heart," as signifying the spiritual center of the human person, sec A- Guillaumont, "I.cs sens des noms du coeur dans I'ariti- quite", in J.e Cueur (litudes carmelitaines xxix: Bruges 1950), pp. 41-81; "Le 'coeur' che/. les spirituels grecs a t'eponue ancienne", DS ii (1V52), cols. 2281-8.
198. 28 (linD), p. 276.
199. 27 (1109C), p. 268.
200. 7 (804C), p. 13 7. Cf,7 (K08D), p. 140, referring to the -ineffable tight" of God,
201. 7 (813B), p. 143.
202. 19(937C), p. 195.
54
INTRODUCTION
(4) On humility: "You will know that you have this holy gift within you . . . when you experience an abundance of unspeakable light."203
(5) "For the perfect there is increase and, indeed, a wealth of di- vine light. ... A soul, freed of its old habits and also forgiven, has surely seen the divine light."^°'*
(6) "In addition to these there is the way of rapture (ekstasis), the way of the mind mysteriously and marvellously carried into the light of Christ."205
(7) Some emerge from prayer "as if they were resplendent with light."2°^
^ (8) "When the heart is cheerful, the face beams, and a man flooded with the love of God reveals in his body, as if in a mirror, the splendor of his soul, a glory like that of Moses when he came face to face with God" (cf. Exod. 34:29-35). 207
(9) Finally, there is a long passage at the end of the work To the Shepherd, in which the shepherd is likened to Moses:
You have ascended to the heights, you have dispelled all manner of darkness and gloom and tempest — I mean the thrice gloomy darkness of ignorance. You have drawn nigh to that light which is far more awesome, brilliant and sub- lime than the flame in the bush. . . . While still in this life, you perhaps saw future things from behind (cf. Exod. 33:23) — I mean that illumination of knowledge which will come to pass in the last time. . . . You were glorified in the countenance of both your soul and your body.^°^
In all of these passages a figurative or metaphorical interpreta- tion is by no means impossible. But, particularly in the first, the sec- tmd ;ind the eighth, John seems to intend something more than mere iiu-laphor. The phrase "non-material light" in the first passage sug- Ifcsi.s ihat John has in view a light that is neither merely figurative,
201, :(H,
2fH,
307 Jim.
2 2f>(ll(3i»), p. 242. 2A(1II6SA>, p. 249, 2M(1H7(;), p. 2HI». (IMIil7H), p, 2HH, I'ml n (k'O'lC), p
MH.
55
INTRODUCIION
nor yet physical and created, but spiritual and uncreated. In the sec- ond passage the words "invisibly seen," while they could apply to a metaphorical enlightenment of the mind, may also denote a higher, mystical illumination, whereby the initiate gazes — through his physi- cal eyes, and yet in a manner that transcends them — not upon the material objects of normal sense-perception, but upon the "non-mate- rial" light of God. So far as the eighth passage is concerned, the glory shining from the face of Moses, as described in Exodus 34, is certainly not just metaphorical, for Moses has to place a veil over his face to protect the Israelites from its brightness. John seems to be thinking here of the occasions, frequently recorded in the lives of the saints, when the body of the holy man or woman shines visibly with divine light, as Christ's body shone at the transfiguration on Mount Ta- bor.^°'' It is significant that in this passage the light is given an escha- tological interpretation: it is an anticipation of "future things," a foretaste of the "illumination" that "will come to pass in the last time." According to the traditional teaching, the light of the age to come is an existent reality, not a mere metaphor.
With some hesitation, then, we may place St. John Climacus in the tradition of the "light mystics" of the Christian East, along with the Homilies attributed to St. Macarius (fourth-fifth centuries), with St. Symeon the New Theologian (eleventh century), and St. Gregory Palamas (fourteenth century). While John is far less explicit than they — and certainly we cannot find in The Ladder, in any clearly ar- ticulated form, the Cappadocian and Palamite distinction between God's essence and His energies^'" — yet John seems to agree w^ith them in teaching that the Divinity is revealed as uncreated light, and that the human person can participate in this divine light not only metaphorically but literally, not only in the age to come but in this present life, and not only with the soul but with the body also.
'i'here are, however, no traces in The Ladder of the parallel tradi- tion of "darkness mysticism," represented by Philo the Jew (first cen- tury), St. Clement of Alexandria (third century), St. Gregory of Nyssa (fourth century), and St. Dionysius the Areopagite (fifth cen- tury). When, as in the ninth passage cited above, John refers to the
209. See K. Ware, "l"he Transfiguration of the Body", in A.M. AUchin (ed.), Sacra- ment and Image (Vhc Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius: London 1967), pp. 17-J2.
210. But in 2> (W.K;D), p. 223, John uses the essence-energies distinction with ref- erence to the sun,
56
INTRODUCTION
darkness of Sinai, he takes this as signifying sinful ignorance, not di- vine transcendence and mystery. Unlike Philo, Clement, Gregory of Nyssa and Dionysius, John lays no particular emphasis upon the unknowability of God; the language of apophatic theology is largely absent from The Ladder. We are left with the impression that John does indeed regard God as beyond human understanding, but he does not discuss the matter in detail.
But, even though John has not followed Gregory of Nyssa in his interpretation of the darkness of Sinai, there is another idea, promi- nent in Gregory's Life of Moses, that appears also in The Ladder: the no- tion of unceasing advance, of perpetual progress through the infinite ages of eternity. John does not use Gregory's technical term epekta- sis,^^^ but the concept itself is plainly present in his work. Virtue and love, he says, are things that have no limit or end-point, either in this Jife or in the age to come:
I There is no boundary to virtue. The psalmist says, "I have seen the end of all perfection, but Your commandment is
very broad and is without limit" (Ps. 118:96) And if it is
true that "love never fails" (1 Cor. 13:8) . . . then love has no boundary, and both in the present and in the future age we
( will never cease to progress in it, as we add light to light. . . .
I Even the angels make progress . . . they add glory to glory
f and knowledge to knowledge. ^'^
In ihc la.st step of all he returns to the idea that love has no limit: "It is ihe condition of angels, and the progress of eternity. "'^^''
In common, then, with St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. John Climacus litts a strongly dynamic view of eternity. Movement and progress are he mark of life not only here below but in heaven, and this is true of ingels as well as humankind. The essence of perfection consists para- loxically in the fact that we never become perfect, but advance un- JCa.singly "from glory to glory." In John, as in Gregory, the reason
211. Hill sec 2'' (I UKUC), p. 2H2, which uses the verl> efietieiiiomiii (ef, Phil. I;l-t), (horily iiftiirc II description ui afiatheiu in lerms of perpetual progress: ". . llic inieniti. sided pcrfcfliiiti of ihc perfect." On efjeiuish, see Ciregory pl'r AJ. Mnllu'rlu- iiiul I',. l\-r^imnHth- CItioia <>/' llhinn .Sfiinttinlily \r« \in\, |i>7H), lli|) |ip 12 l-t
I J13, iftlKIC.HAH), pp .Mil I. I J 1.1. HHllMlH). p !H'/. CI, JHlJIi'Jli), p. 27^: pruvrr is ■'ucln.ii mil 1 t.|(d "
mJUbuj
INTRODUCTION
for this view is that both of them envisage eternal life in terms of personal love.^''* Eternity is progress, because eternity is love; and a relationship of love between two persons is never static, never ex- haustively explored, but implies always fresh growth, movement and discovery. So it is between human persons; so it is between the divine persons of the Holy Trinity; and so it is between the human soul and God.
John is most insistent about the primacy of love, agreeing here with his contemporary St. Maximus the Confessor. It is love, so John teaches, that makes the human person resemble God "insofar as this is humanly possible. "^'^ Love stands higher than any vision or ecsta- sy, higher than any mystical revelation. Evagrius, in his scheme of the spiritual ascent, regarded gnosis or knowledge as superior to love; but for John the summit of the ladder is love, and there can be nothing higher than this.
After all his negative words against sin, after all his austere de- mands for self-denial, St. John Climacus concludes the final chapter of The Ladder with words that are entirely positive: "Love is the great- est of them all."^'^