The first thought

John Climacus calls chastity the common name of all the virtues: purity of soul and body. For a monk it means virginity. For a married man it means faithfulness and wholeness: one heart, one wife, clean thoughts and clean eyes. To those who think it is too late, John answers that the apostle Peter was married too, yet received the keys of the Kingdom, and that a wild olive can be made a cultivated one.

The most useful thing in this teaching is a piece of knowledge that holds for every passion, not only this one. Following the old fathers, John describes six steps by which a thought becomes master. First the image simply appears, and that is not yet a sin. Then you begin to converse with it and hold on to it. Then the heart agrees and feels pleasure. Then the thought drags you against your will. Then comes a struggle in which the forces are equal. And finally the passion: a habit that has become second nature.

Whoever cuts the thought off at the first step cuts off all the rest with one blow.

So the battle is not at the end, but at the beginning. As soon as the image appears, let it go. Do not converse with it or argue, because, John says, this thought always has an argument. Turn your attention elsewhere. Do not test your strength: remove whatever draws you and do not stay alone where you know it is dangerous. Guard your eyes, because the soul can be soiled by a look alone. The hour before sleep is the most dangerous, so the phone does not go to bed with you.

John teaches something else that matters: no one defeats this passion by his own strength alone. Whoever fights with restraint alone is like a man trying to save himself from the open sea by swimming with one arm. Humility must go with discipline. And at the moment of attack the advice is short: step aside, lift your eyes and say simply: have mercy on me, I am weak. Faithfulness is built not only by refusing what is another’s, but by tending what is your own. Where the marriage is alive, the passion has less empty space. And this struggle should be opened to someone: a spiritual father or a trusted friend.

There are two traps. The first is self-confidence. John saw people who were at peace for a long time, felt safe, and suddenly fell. The second is pride in purity: when your thoughts grow calmer, the thought comes that this is your own merit. John calls it a snake in the dung and gives the answer: what do I have that I did not receive?

The sign that you have climbed: the beginning is when you do not agree with an impure thought, and the summit is when you look at beauty and give thanks for it, without passion.

The question remains: if the body must not be master, what about money?

N. Ž.