Evagrius’s account of self-observation might almost be found in a psychology textbook explaining the various mechanisms of the soul and the connections of the individual feelings and emotions:
“It is very important for us that we also learn to distinguish the various demons and to determine the attendant circumstances of their appearance. Our thoughts can teach us this…. Furthermore, we should note which demons attack less often and which are the more burdensome, which abandon the field more quickly and which put up stronger resistance. Finally we should also get to know the ones that attack immediately and seduce us into blasphemy. It is quite essential to know this exactly, so that when the various evil thoughts go to work in their characteristic fashion, we can oppose them with effective words, that is, words that correctly identify the one that is at work. We have to do that before they wrench us out of our frame of mind. Only in this way shall we, with God’s grace, make good progress. We shall chase them off, but they will grow angry and at the same time wonder how we recognized them so acutely.”
Precise knowledge about the emotions and passion is the prerequisite for dealing successfully with them. And the goal of our struggle is again apatheia, inner freedom. In psychological terms we can say that the goal is a mature handling of our emotions, a balanced relationship to our passions, reconciliation with ourselves and our shadow side, a wholeness in which the shadow is integrated and serves our spiritual efforts.
Evagrius sees in familiarity with the passion a fulfilment of the saying of Jesus about the cleverness of serpents:
“Our Lord said, ‘Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves’ (Matt. 10:16). The monks must be in truth without guile and gentle, and let their disputes be in all gentleness, according to the word of the prophet. But let the eye of their spirit be agile, and let them be cunning in the arts of the demons, like the ichneumon [a species of Egyptian mongoose], which observes the tracks of the game, so that he can say, ‘The thoughts of the Evil one are not hidden from us,’ and, ‘My eye looks upon my enemies, and my ears will hear of the evil ones who fight against me.'”
Thus, like the mongoose, we should study the tracks of the demons in order to catch them. The serpent is at once a symbol of the wisdom of nature and of sexuality. Acquiring the cleverness of serpents, therefore, also means being reconciled to our sexuality, becoming familiar with it, so as to integrate its wisdom and power into our spiritual path. The desert fathers made themselves familiar with negative thoughts and feelings. They had no fear of contact with the demons. For them that was a daily struggle, in which they acquired an increasingly exact knowledge of the opponent. Their writings speak of experience with the passions in our hearts and the powers in our unconscious.
Evagrius associates the vices of gluttony, unchastity, and greed with the desirous part. Eating, sexuality, and ownership are three basic drives in human beings that cannot be simply cut off and ignored. For in their role as basic instincts they urge us on to life, indeed, in the final analysis, to God. It all depends on how we deal with these drives, that is, whether we let ourselves be ruled by them, whether we become creatures of instinct or make positive use of their power and let ourselves be driven by them on the path to life and to God.
Evagrius describes the first instinct of gluttony, or gourmandise, not so much as excessive eating or a stuffing ourselves with negative feelings, but as fearful concern about one’s health, as fear of falling short, of not having enough food and medicine, or fear of getting sick because of asceticism. Eating is, of course, a basic human need, and one goal of eating is pleasure. Some people stuff themselves with food because they don’t want to sense their anger. Food can also ‘be a replacement for love. Many eaters devour everything in sight, but can’t really enjoy anything. True asceticism consists in learning how to enjoy. Then the proper balance in eating will automatically assert itself, and the fear of running short will vanish. Unconsciously it is the fear of going hungry, in the literal and metaphorical senses.
Ultimately the goal of eating is to become one with God. That is why all religions have sacred meals. In the Eucharist it is precisely by eating bread that we become one with Christ, and through him, with God. Mystics have described unity with God as fruitio Dei, the enjoyment of God: eating as a basic act through which we are allowed to enjoy God.
~Anselm Gruen, Heaven Begins Within You: Wisdom from the Desert Fathers
