THE BATTLE OF THE SOUL
Jason Caros | December 29, 2022
It is more difficult to rule yourself than to rule a city. - Proverbs 16:32
My family enjoys going to local music events, including concerts in the park where we can sit outdoors and listen to hometown musicians perform songs of various genres in a family setting. Some of the bands in these venues play oldies from the 70s, 80s and 90s, which my wife and I enjoy, and our daughter who is in her early twenties enjoys, for the most part, but my high school aged son—not so much. This is beside the point.
Knowing how many years of practice it takes to get to their level, I greatly appreciate the talent on display by these performers as well as how much they seem to love their art. The musicians are inspiring and sometimes their songs stir up something in me. One of the catchy numbers that the band played one time was All My Favorite Songs (a more contemporary tune). The chorus stuck with me. The song begins like this:
All my favorite songs are slow and sad
All my favorite people make me mad
Everything that feels so good is bad, bad, bad
All my favorite songs are slow and sad
(Chorus) I don't know what's wrong with me
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
I don't know what's wrong with me
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
“What’s wrong with me?” or a more declarative form of the question, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” is a healthy question to ask. It is an age-old reflection, and as imperfect human beings we have lots of opportunities throughout our lives to consider it. In fact, wise people from the ancient world all the way up to the present time advise us to be conscious of the ways we’ve gone wrong and of the negative desires that sometimes hound us. In fact, these sages say that if you don’t ask yourself the question there is something even more seriously wrong with you. It’s a sign that you lack self-knowledge, or even the beginnings of self-knowledge. In other words, you don’t know what you don’t know about the most important part of living—your own human life—and this knowledge is a sine qua non for living well. Fortunately, we can draw upon the wisdom of the ages to provide us with some good answers to the question of what is wrong with us.
“What’s wrong with me?” is a good question to ask oneself when something has just gone wrong, but it is also important to repeat it as part of an ongoing process of self-examination that can lead to human growth and flourishing. Related to self-reflection, “Know thyself,” is a famous maxim that has traveled to us from Ancient Greece on the long-flowing stream of time. First popularized in the 6th century BC by Thales, the father of Western philosophy, used by countless Greco-Roman thinkers, and later adopted by early Christian teachers, it has been used ever since to promote knowledge and virtuous living, and in Orthodoxy, a life lived in communion with God.
What does Know thyself mean? In a nutshell, it is an injunction to live well. Its aim is, first, to prompt each of us to inquire about what it means to live as a human being, rather than say as a dog or a cat or a beetle or a tree—the answer is that we have a unique human nature, not the nature of some other kind of creature. Second, that we ought to live according to this nature and know what thoughts and actions correspond to good living, ultimately helping us to live truly good lives. This was the pursuit of ancient philosophers like Socrates, and theologians like Saint Paul of Tarsus, who, as an essential part of this investigation pursued Ton Kalon, or the Highest Good.
In the remainder of this essay, I will describe a model for self-knowledge originally developed about 2,400 years ago that helped to explain why we do the things we do and how to direct our interests and actions in a good direction, a heavenly one. Most importantly, the model ultimately deals with self-governance and virtuous living—how we can rule over our own negative passions and desires, which ultimately enslave us intellectually and morally. With this in mind, let’s start with the battle within…
You have probably heard the old saying, “The devil made me do it!” As a mere human being, you have certainly been confronted with a temptation where you knew the good thing to do but something pulled at you in the other direction, right? Saint Paul references this struggle in his letter to the Romans when he says, “For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do…” (7:15). In the same chapter he says, “I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (23-24). This moral tug-of-war reminds me of the character in a story who has a little angel whispering in his ear to do one thing and a little devil whispering in the other ear to do another. While this imagery is derived from fictional sources, it is rooted in an actual battle involving our virtues and vices. In fact, the ancient Greeks were well aware of this internal struggle, and they came up with a word for it—psychomachia (Greek for “battle of the soul”). This word was adopted by our Church Fathers.
Sages from previous ages, pre-Christian and Christian, used a model for self-assessment and self-government that is still known today by students of philosophy, and by Christians who read the works of the Church Fathers on the ascetical life, prayer of the heart and spiritual warfare such as those collected in volumes of the Philokalia.
Popularized thousands of years ago by Socrates’ greatest student, Plato, it was passed on by philosophers and adopted, with enhancements,[1] by Christian teachers as an aid in the battle of the soul. In modern times, C.S. Lewis alluded to it in his works, which has helped to keep it alive in certain academic circles, but it is little known in today’s popular culture. It ought to be more widely understood.
In Plato’s Republic and other works, the philosopher likened the human soul to the polis (Greek for “city-state”). He said that in order for people living together in the city (like ancient Athens) to have a just and harmonious society, individuals first have to be just and experience harmony within their own souls. The problem, however, is that man is obviously weak and struggles inside (psychomachia); therefore, he needs to be properly educated and formed.
Plato, known for his use of metaphors, allegories, and analogies wrote in symbolic fashion on a model for teaching about and finding solutions to human struggles in what is called his Tripartite Theory of the Soul. Before briefly discussing Plato’s idea, let me say that the very simple diagram below is mine, not Plato’s, but it points to the three parts or faculties of the soul that he described.
When thinking of the Tripartite model, it is helpful not to think about a human sliced up into three sections, but to simply consider that there are three faculties or powers at work in us, either in concert or against one another, that lead to good or sinful living. The first is Logos,[2] or Intellect. Logos is the driver of the soul, so to speak. Ideally, this is the element that seeks truth, to understand reality; when it is well ordered it is prudent or wise. The second is Thumos, the Spirited or passionate power of the soul, which should strive to do the good; when it is well ordered, it is courageous and persevering. Finally, Epithumos is the Appetitive or desiring faculty of the soul; when well-ordered it is temperate and characterized by the desire and affection for beauty, the beauty of truth and goodness.
You may have noticed a correspondence between each element of the soul and the Universals—Truth, Goodness and Beauty. There is also a relationship between each of them and the Four Cardinal Virtues: Prudence with Logos, Courage with Thumos, Temperance with Epithumos, and all three with Justice, as Justice is the virtue that creates harmony among all the faculties of the soul.
When describing these elements of our humanity, C.S. Lewis simply referred to them as the Head, Chest and Belly. For simplicity’s sake, I will use these descriptors of the three faculties from here on out (note that in English translations of the Church Fathers such as Sts. Dorotheos of Gaza, Maximos the Confessor, John of Damascus and Gregory Palamas, the words intelligent, incensive and appetitive or desiring are often used for the three faculties or powers of the soul).
So, how does this model relate to psychomachia, or the spiritual battle within? Well, when we engage in serious self-reflection, we know that our thoughts, actions, and desires are far from perfect; we miss the mark. In short, our Heads, Chests and Bellies need some work. Plato and others believed that with a proper paideia (education and enculturation) each of these faculties could be cultivated in such a way that a person could experience internal harmony and live as a human being ought to live, virtuously.
As an Orthodox Christian, it is important to emphasize that in this life people are not always going to hit the mark. In fact, we will fall quite a bit; however, people are capable of great improvement, including noteworthy intellectual and moral heights—especially, and ultimately, with inspiration from The Holy Spirit. With that said, let me give you a (fictitious) scenario that shows how the three faculties of the soul might work.
Let’s say that I love brownies, especially moist and thick brownies. I go to a birthday party and after greeting everyone and wishing the host a happy birthday, I make a beeline over to the dessert table. My eyes see and my nose senses a tray of delicious brownies. I naturally partake of one. “Boy, that’s a gooooood brownie,” I think to myself. My belly wants another one. I look around to see if anyone is watching. My wife is nowhere in sight, so I take a second. The brownies are so good and I’m still hungry, so now I think about whether or not I should take a third brownie. I think to myself, “I really shouldn’t have another one. I ought to let the other guests enjoy them, plus I don’t need the calories and I know I’ll feel guilty afterwards.” So, what do I do? I enjoy another scrumptious brownie. After the party, when my stomach is full, I ask myself, “Why did I do that? What’s wrong with me?”
The reason I overindulged and ignored my intellect is because the desires of my belly (Epithumos) are strong, stronger than my head (Logos). In a one-to-one contest, the belly will regularly get the best of the head, and for this reason the head and chest (Thumos) must work together to overcome the excessive appetites of the belly. In this fictitious case, that did not happen. This is psychomachia in action. Ideally, the head would direct the belly, and even if it gets some resistance from the belly, a well-formed chest could come to the rescue.
This type of internal battle could be applied to all kinds of decisions we make, small and large, but the belly is not always the culprit. Sometimes it’s the head, it could be ignorance, pride or ingratitude, and other times it’s the chest, it may be cowardice, anger, or procrastination. Perhaps it is all three faculties that are failing. For this reason, a proper formation and education of the Head, Chest and Belly is necessary to a well-ordered soul. A good paideia or praxis properly informs the Logos with knowledge, logical thinking, and prudence with some humility (i.e. a moral compass); it informs the Thumos with good habits that build strength of character, including virtues such as courage and perseverance in pursuit of holiness; and it trains the Epithumos with affections or desires for good and beautiful things, with moderation.
It is interesting to note that the Gospels provide an example of temptations of The Lord Jesus Christ Himself that illustrates the three faculties of soul at work. Recall that in Matthew’s account, Our Lord fasted for forty days in the desert before beginning His public ministry. The devil tempted Him in three ways—with bread, with power and with worldly recognition (4:1-11). When reading the passage, notice that the temptations correspond to three faculties of the soul—the Belly, with food to satisfy hunger; the Chest, with power; and the Head, with pride and glory. In each case, the Lord showed temperance, fortitude and prudence as He rebuked the devil. Unlike in the example with the brownies, where the internal battle was lost, there was no contest between the will of Satan and The Lord Jesus Christ, Whose soul was perfectly synergized with the Divine will.[3]
Having described psychomachia and the faculties of the soul, how is this relevant to us in our daily lives? How does it aid us in our own spiritual progress? Considering the composite nature of our being, we know that it is not enough to only educate the mind. Knowledge, logical thinking and good thoughts are essential, to be sure, but they only take you so far. Our character needs strengthening and training, as in virtues like fortitude, and our appetites or desires need to be cultivated so that we are moderate and so we desire good, true and beautiful things rather than negative, corrupt and counterfeit ones. How do we do all of this?
While Plato’s pre-Christian teachings about the soul were instructive and helpful, insofar as human reasoning could produce good ends, they were incomplete and without grace. Fortunately, our Holy Church has a two-thousand-year-old prescription for goodness or holiness that properly forms the human soul, opening us up to God’s graces or energies, thus enabling us to live in communion with God in this life and in the next. The remedy is none other than the sacramental and ascetic way of life initiated by the Lord Jesus Christ, passed on by His apostles and generations of faithful Christians to the present time. It entails the reception of the Holy and Life-giving Mysteries of the Church (i.e. Baptism and Chrismation, Eucharist, Confession, etc.) coupled with a life of repentance and humility,[4] continual prayer and communal worship, contemplation of sacred scripture and other God-inspired texts, fasting and other self-denying practices, as well as almsgiving. This medicine or therapy properly forms each faculty of the soul so that our thoughts, actions and desires are all in harmony and aim toward union with God. This synergy between God and man results in holiness in this life and theosis in the next.[5]
To read more about the Church’s teaching about the aspects of the soul and its healing, I recommend Metropolitan Hierotheos’ Orthodox Psychotherapy, especially the chapter called “Orthodox Pathology,” that deals with the passions and their cures. Shorter and more introductory books on this topic include Metropolitan Hierotheos’ Orthodox Spirituality and Dee Pennock’s God’s Path to Sanity.
Jason Caros is a husband, father and long-time educator. Since 2012 he has served as a classical school headmaster in Texas, and more recently as associate superintendent for academics with Founders Classical Academies. He taught high school and adult catechism at Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church in Orlando, Florida for about a decade.
Endnotes:
[1] Platonism, or Neoplatonism, and Eastern Christianity are incompatible. The Church Fathers’ beliefs about the soul, its purification, illumination and deification have a different character than the views held by the ancient philosophers. Instead, their theoria, or direct experience of God, was consistent with both Old Testament and New Testament examples.
[2] For those familiar with the term, “Nous,” note that Logos and Nous are not synonymous in this model even though they are sometimes used interchangeably in other settings. Both Plato, in Timaeus, and the Eastern Church Fathers generally reserve this word for a higher aspect of the soul, or more specifically as the eye of the soul for the Eastern Christian theologians.
[3] Here, the emphasis is on the perfection of the three faculties of the soul—intelligent, spirited and desiring. This takes into account the Church’s teachings, affirmed by the Ecumenical Councils, about the Incarnation and natures of The Lord Jesus Christ, namely that God has assumed every aspect of our nature, body and soul, and that Christ has one hypostasis and two natures, divine and human, with two wills. The human will is submissive to the divine will.
[4] Returning to the theme of self-knowledge, repentance and humility are essential signs that someone is on the path to holiness. In the famous parable about the Publican and Pharisee (Luke 18:9-14), the prideful Pharisee is spiritually blind whereas the penitent and humble tax-collector was more self-aware.
[5] Theosis refers to deification or union with God. Orthodox teaching about theosis, the third stage of the threefold salvific path that follows purification and illumination, is that for most people this occurs in the next life, but for some, the saints (in the Greek, ἅγιοv, meaning holy ones), it can be experienced in this life first. The levels of spiritual perfection, which result from the uncreated grace or energies of God, develop in those who cooperate and respond to divine grace.