Category: ANGER

  • “Remember the one who has ridiculed you, who has grieved you, who has wronged you, who has done evil to you, as your physician, your healer. Christ sent him to heal you; don’t remember him with anger.”

    Abba Zossima

  • Never react to what people say.  React to what they mean.

    —George J. Thompson and Jerry B. Jenkins, Verbal Judo: The Gentle Art of Persuasion

  • He talks about healing a wound, and does not stop irritating it. He complains of sickness, and does not stop eating what is harmful. He prays against it, and immediately goes and does it. And when he has done it, he is angry with himself; and the wretched man is not ashamed of his own words. “I am doing wrong,” he cries, and eagerly continues to do so. His mouth prays against his passion, and his body struggles for it. He philosophizes about death, but he behaves as if he were immortal. He groans over the separation of soul and body, but drowses along as if he were eternal. He talks of temperance and self-control, but he lives for gluttony. He reads about the judgment and begins to smile. He reads about vainglory, and is vainglorious while actually reading. He repeats what he has learned about vigil, and drops asleep on the spot. He praises prayer, but runs from it as from the plague. He blesses obedience, but he is the first to disobey. He praises detachment, but he is not ashamed to be spiteful and to fight for a rag. When angered he gets bitter, and he is angered again at his bitterness; and he does not feel that after one defeat he is suffering another. Having overeaten he repents, and a little later again gives way to it. He blesses silence, and praises it with a spate of words. He teaches meekness, and during the actual teaching frequently gets angry. Having woken from passion he sighs, and shaking his head, he again yields to passion. He condemns laughter, and lectures on mourning with a smile on his face. Before others he blames himself for being vainglorious, and in blaming himself is only angling for glory for himself. He looks people in the face with passion, and talks about chastity. While frequenting the world, he praises the solitary life, without realizing that he shames himself. He extols almsgivers, and reviles beggars. All the time he is his own accuser, and he does not want to come to his senses—I will not say cannot.

    —St. John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent

  • Of the eight principal spirits or faults, dejection and acedia most effectively link the monastic world with today’s psychological suffering. The spirit or demon of dejection is described as one that attacks at random, and prevents the monk from having gladness of heart.[32] It makes the monk impatient and rough with the brethren and causes him to feel angry, crushing and overwhelming him with despair.[33] Cassian also locates the origin of dejection as being from “previous anger” or a previous “lack of gain that has not been realized.”[34] The monk isolates himself and no longer desires to engage in discourse with others, so that Cassian labels dejection the “gall of bitterness that is in possession of every corner of their heart.”[35] Interestingly, Cassian discusses how this demonic spirit is not necessarily a result of the actions of others, but actions of the self. Cassian elaborates that one in this state should not isolate himself, but rather continue to interact with his fellow monastic brethren. This in itself is a remedy against this spirit.[36] 

    However, Cassian goes on to discuss that some dejection is acceptable and therapeutic. This is the sorrow that leads an individual to penitence for sin.[39] Finally, he ends the relevant chapter by noting that the way to terminate devilish dejection is spiritual meditation, and keeping the mind occupied with the hope of the future. In examining this chapter of Cassian’s work, clear symptoms emerge, as well as treatment modalities for what is considered depression in the modern world.

    In Book X of the Institutes, Cassian begins to describe accidie, or acedia, known as the “midday demon,”[40] as Evagrius had also done, although in more detail in specific relation to the emotions.[41] While similar to the demon of dejection, acedia consists of the added features of apathy, sluggishness, sloth, and irritability. In naming acedia the “midday demon,” Cassian posits that these demonic attacks often occur around the sixth hour and seize the monk. Carelessness and anxiousness are the main components of acedia, as well as frequent complaining.[42] The monk looks anxiously and often sighs at his other brethren. There are also moments where he is idle and useless for spiritual work. Cassian notes that sometimes the midday demon can manifest in different forms: sometimes one may isolate more, and in other times one may become a busy-body and seek consolation from others — an action which Cassian describes as entanglement in secular business.[43] 

    John Cassian, Diabolical Warfare, and Psychological Health

    Abraham Ghattas
    Doss Press

  • During your time in the community, you are testing yourself to see if you can bear with people. Do you lose your peace? Do you hate people? Or do you try to avenge oneself? If you try to isolate yourself in order not to engage in these troubles, you are likened to a person who refuses to take an exam for fear of failing. The result is that you will not graduate. The correct action is for a person to take the exam and pass. It is easy to sit alone and not make mistakes. Neither will the devil leave you; he will give you even more thoughts than people would, to the point that you will leave your cell saying, “It is better to deal with people than to deal with this mental warfare.” Take the test and succeed.

    —H.H. Pope Shenouda III, Monastic Treasures for All of Us

  • Watch yourselves—your passions especially—in your home life, where they appear freely, like moles in a safe place. Outside our own home, some of our passions are usually screened by other more decorous passions, whilst at home there is no possibility of driving away these black moles that undermine the integrity of our soul.

    —St. John of Kronstadt, My Life in Christ

  • “Examine yourself to see whether you have within you a strong sense of your own self-importance, or negatively, whether you have failed to realize that you are nothing. This feeling of self-importance is deeply hidden, but it controls the whole of our life. Its first demand is that everything should be as we wish it, and as soon as this is not so we complain to God and are annoyed with people.”

    St. Theophan the Recluse

  • This, also, I am ever urging, and shall not cease to urge, that you give attention, not only to the words spoken, but that also, when at home in your house, you exercise yourselves constantly in reading the Divine Scriptures. This, also, I have never ceased to press upon those who come to me privately. Let not any one say to me that these exhortations are vain and irrelevant, for “I am constantly busy in the courts,” (suppose him to say;) “I am discharging public duties; I am engaged in some art or handiwork; I have a wife; I am bringing up my children; I have to manage a household; I am full of worldly business; it is not for me to read the Scriptures, but for those who have bid adieu to the world, for those who dwell on the summit of the hills; those who constantly lead a secluded life.” What dost thou say, O man? Is it not for thee to attend to the Scriptures, because thou art involved in numerous cares? It is thy duty even more than theirs, for they do not so much need the aid to be derived from the Holy Scriptures as they do who are engaged in much business. For those who lead a solitary life, who are free from business and from the anxiety arising from business, who have pitched their tent in the wilderness, and have no communion with any one, but who meditate at leisure on wisdom, in that peace that springs from repose—they, like those who lie in the harbour, enjoy abundant security. But ourselves, who, as it were, are tossed in the midst of the sea, cannot avoid many failings, we ever stand in need of the immediate and constant comfort of the Scriptures. They rest far from the strife, and, therefore, escape many wounds; but you stand perpetually in the array of battle, and constantly are liable to be wounded: on this account, you have more need of the healing remedies. For, suppose, a wife provokes, a son causes grief, a slave excites to anger, an enemy plots against us, a friend is envious, a neighbour is insolent, a fellow-soldier causes us to stumble—or often, perhaps, a judge threatens us, poverty pains us, or loss of property causes us trouble, or prosperity puffs us up, or misfortune overthrows us;—there are surround us on all sides many causes and occasions of anger, many of anxiety, many of dejection or grief, many of vanity or pride; from all quarters, weapons are pointed at us. Therefore it is that there is need continually of the whole armour of the Scriptures.

    —St John Chrysostom, On Wealth and Poverty

  • Sometimes when we have been overcome by pride or impatience, and we want to improve our rough and bearish manners, we complain that we require solitude, as if we should find the virtue of patience there where nobody provokes us: and we apologize for our carelessness, and say that the reason of our disturbance does not spring from our own impatience, but from the fault of our brethren. And while we lay the blame of our fault on others, we shall never be able to reach the goal of patience and perfection.

    —St. John Cassian, Institutes, Book VIII, Chapter XVI. Of the Spirit of Anger.

  • Being a human means accepting promises from other people and trusting that other people will be good to you. When that is too much to bear, it is always possible to retreat into the thought, “I’ll live for my own comfort, for my own revenge, for my own anger, and I just won’t be a member of society anymore.” That really means, “I won’t be a human being anymore.”

    You see people doing that today where they feel that society has let them down, and they can’t ask anything of it, and they can’t put their hopes on anything outside themselves. You see them actually retreating to a life in which they think only of their own satisfaction, and maybe the satisfaction of their revenge against society. But the life that no longer trusts another human being and no longer forms ties to the political community is not a human life any longer.

    Philosopher Martha Nussbaum on How to Live with Our Human Fragility