Abbot Serapion on Thoughts Brought to Light

Serapion said: When I was still a boy and was staying with Abbot Theonas, the attacks of the enemy forced this habit on me. After I had eaten supper with the old man at the ninth hour, every day I would secretly hide a biscuit in my clothes, and later I would eat it on the sly without his knowing. I was constantly guilty of this theft, with the consent of my will and with the lack of restraint that comes from a desire grown deep-rooted. Yet when my unlawful desire had been satisfied, I would come to myself, and I tormented myself over the theft I had committed more than I had enjoyed the pleasure of eating. Day after day I was forced, not without grief of heart, to carry out this very heavy task, demanded of me, so to speak, by Pharaoh’s taskmasters in place of the bricks. I could not escape this cruel tyranny, and yet I was ashamed to disclose the secret theft to the old man. Then, by the will of God, it happened that I was set free from the yoke of this captivity I had chosen for myself. [a]

Some brothers had come to the old man’s cell to be instructed by him. After supper the spiritual conference began, and in answer to the questions they had put to him, the old man was speaking about the sin of gluttony and the rule of secret thoughts. He was showing their nature, and the terrible power they have as long as they are kept secret. I was overcome by the force of what he said. My conscience struck me and I was terrified, for I thought he was saying these things because the Lord had revealed the secrets of my heart to the old man. At first I was moved to sigh in secret. Then the sorrow piercing my heart grew, and I openly burst into sobs and tears. From the folds of my clothes, which had shared in my theft and held it, I brought out the biscuit I had carried off in my bad habit to eat on the sly. I laid it in the middle of them, and lying on the ground and begging for forgiveness, I confessed how I used to eat one every day in secret. With many tears I begged them to pray to the Lord to free me from this dreadful slavery. Then the old man said: “Have faith, my child. Without any words of mine, your confession frees you from this slavery. Today you have triumphed over the adversary who had conquered you. By your confession you have laid him low, and that more than makes up for the way he overthrew you through your silence before. For as long as you never refuted him, either by your own answer or by someone else’s, you let him lord it over you, as Solomon says: ‘Because sentence is not speedily pronounced against the evil, the heart of the children of men is full within them to do evil.’ So now that he has been exposed, that evil spirit will no longer be able to trouble you, and that foul serpent will never again make his lurking place in you, since your life-giving confession has dragged him out of the darkness into the light.”

The old man had not finished speaking when suddenly a burning lamp came out of the folds of my clothes and filled the cell with the smell of sulfur, so sharp that we could hardly stay there. Taking up his warning again, the old man said: “See, the Lord has visibly confirmed to you the truth of my words. You can see with your own eyes how the one who brought about the Lord’s Passion has been driven out of your heart by your life-giving confession. And know that the enemy, now that he has been exposed, will certainly no longer find a home in you, since his expulsion has been made plain.” He went on: And so, just as the old man declared, the rule of that devilish tyranny over me was destroyed by the power of this confession and silenced forever. The enemy has never even tried again to force the memory of this desire on me, and I have never since felt myself seized by the passion of that stealthy craving.

We see this meaning neatly expressed in a figure in Ecclesiastes: “If a serpent bites without hissing, the charmer can do nothing.” This shows that the bite of a serpent in silence is dangerous. That is, if a suggestion or a thought that springs from the devil is not shown by confession to some charmer, I mean some spiritually minded person who knows how to heal the wound at once with the charms of Scripture and to draw the serpent’s deadly poison out of the heart, then it will be impossible to help the sufferer, who is already in danger and must soon die. In this way, then, we will easily come to the knowledge of true discernment. Following the steps of the elders, we will never do anything new, nor decide anything by our own judgment or on our own responsibility, but will walk in all things as their tradition and upright life teach us. The man who is strengthened by this system will not only arrive at the perfect way of discernment but will also remain perfectly safe from all the tricks of the enemy.

For by no other fault does the devil drag a monk down so headlong and lead him away to death as when he persuades him to despise the counsel of the elders and to rely on his own opinion and judgment. Think of all the arts and crafts discovered by human ingenuity, which serve only the conveniences of this passing life. They can be felt with the hand and seen with the eye, and yet no one can understand them without lessons from a teacher. How foolish it is, then, to imagine that no instructor is needed in this one art alone, which is invisible and secret and can be seen only by the purest heart! A mistake in it brings no mere temporary loss, or one that is easily repaired, but the destruction of the soul and everlasting death. For it is concerned with a daily and nightly conflict against foes who are not visible but invisible and cruel, and with a spiritual combat not against one or two only but against countless hosts. Failure in it is all the more dangerous to everyone as the foe is fiercer and the attack more secret. And so we should always follow the footsteps of the elders with the utmost care, and bring to them everything that rises in our hearts, removing the veil of shame.