The Demon at the Hammer

That this does not happen without the prompting of demons we are taught by the surest proofs. A very highly respected elder was once passing by the cell of a certain brother who suffered from this disease of the mind that we have spoken of. The brother was toiling restlessly at his daily occupations, building and repairing what was not needed. From a distance the elder watched him breaking a very hard stone with a heavy hammer. And he saw an Ethiopian standing over him, striking the blows of the hammer together with him with joined and clasped hands, and urging him on with fiery goads to work hard. So the elder stood still for a long time, astonished at the force of the fierce demon and at how deceptive such an illusion was. For whenever the brother was worn out and tired and wanted to rest and stop his toil, the spirit’s prompting spurred him on, and he was urged to take up his hammer again and not to stop giving himself to the work he had begun. Since the demon’s goading held him up without tiring, he did not feel the harm that so much labor was doing him. At last the old man, disgusted at such a vile trick of a demon, turned aside to the brother’s cell, greeted him, and asked: “What work is it you are doing, brother?” He replied: “We are working at this terribly hard stone, and we can hardly break it at all.” To this the elder replied: “You were right to say ‘we can,’ for you were not alone when you were striking it. There was another with you whom you did not see, who stood over you, not so much to help you as to urge you on with all his strength.” [a]

So it will not be proved that the disease of worldly vanity has no hold on our hearts merely by our keeping away from affairs that we could not carry out even if we wanted to engage in them. Nor will it be proved by our despising matters that, if we pursued them, would make us stand out in the front rank among spiritual people as well as among worldly people. It is proved only when we reject, with unbending firmness of mind, whatever serves our own power and seems to be veiled in a show of what is right. And in reality these things, which seem trivial and of no consequence, and which we see allowed without distinction by those who belong to our calling, affect the soul by their nature no less than the more important things, which in their own way usually intoxicate the senses of worldly people and do not allow a monk to lay aside earthly impurities and reach up to God, on whom his attention should always be fixed. For in his case even a slight separation from that highest good must be regarded as present death and the most dangerous destruction.

When the soul has been settled in such a peaceful state and freed from the nets of all the desires of the flesh, and the purpose of the heart has been fixed steadily on what alone is the highest good, then he will fulfill this command of the apostle: “Pray without ceasing,” and: “in every place lifting up holy hands without anger and arguing.” For when the thoughts of the soul are taken up by this purity, if we may put it so, and are remade out of their earthly condition to bear a spiritual likeness, the likeness of angels, then whatever it receives, whatever it takes in hand, whatever it does, its prayer will be perfectly pure and sincere.