Down Into the Fire

Keeping the mind in hell as the only road to resurrection

“Christ did not hesitate to descend into the depths of hell to save mankind; neither should the monk hesitate to descend into the hell of his own heart to wage war against the passions.”

— Archimandrite Zacharias Zacharou

There is no romantic way to say what Archimandrite Zacharias is saying here.

The ascetic life is not about refinement.

It is about descent.

Not into poetry.

Not into insight.

Not into spiritual experiences.

But into hell.

“Keep thy mind in hell and despair not” is not a slogan for difficult days. It is a spiritual surgery that cuts the ego out of the soul. The reason this word is unbearable is that it leaves nowhere to hide. It does not allow us to blame circumstances, trauma, the Church, other people, or even our weaknesses. It demands that we stand before God with the full weight of our corruption and say: I am the one who does not love. I am the one who resists grace. I am the one who crucifies Christ in my heart.

This is what Zacharou means by self-condemnation.

It is not psychological self-hatred.

It is not moral scrupulosity.

It is the moment when a man finally stops lying about who he is.

Hell is not somewhere God sends us.

Hell is what is revealed when God comes close and we see ourselves as we really are.

The narrow path is narrow because it does not permit excuses.

It does not permit self-justification.

It does not permit spiritual cosmetic surgery.

The monk who keeps his mind in hell is the one who no longer protects himself from the truth. He stands naked before Christ and says: You are everything. I am nothing. Even my love for You is broken and self-seeking.

This is why the descent must be complete. Partial descent produces partial resurrection. If you allow Christ to touch your obvious sins but protect your identity, your opinions, your righteousness, your spiritual achievements, then the fire of God can only warm you slightly. But when you condemn yourself without reservation, when you surrender even your spiritual image, then something terrifying and holy happens: you become able to bear God.

Zacharou says that self-condemnation strengthens man’s nature. This is the opposite of how we think. We imagine that seeing our darkness will crush us. In reality, what crushes us is pretending we do not have one. The heart collapses under the weight of illusion. But when a man accepts hell as his true measure, his soul becomes elastic. He no longer has to defend himself. He no longer has to perform goodness. He no longer has to manage how he is seen. He becomes free to receive mercy.

This is why the Holy Spirit rests only on those who have gone to the bottom. Grace cannot dwell in a heart that is still negotiating its innocence. Fire cannot settle on a soul that is still saying, But I am not that bad.

Hell is where all that stops.

Christ did not save us from a distance. He went to the very bottom. He entered the shame, the abandonment, the godforsakenness of the human condition. He did not hover above it. He became it. And if we want to meet Him, we must go where He went.

That is the scandal of the narrow way.

You will not meet Christ in your spiritual successes.

You will meet Him in the place where you have nothing to offer Him but your need.

The monk who keeps his mind in hell is the monk who has stopped trying to prove he belongs to God. He belongs because God has loved him while he was an enemy. He belongs because Christ descended. He belongs because mercy is stronger than truth.

And when a man finally accepts that he deserves nothing, he becomes able to receive everything.

That is why the saints speak so little about themselves. They have nothing to defend. Their self has been burned away in the descent. What remains is a heart that can hold God without exploding.

The narrow path is not narrow because God is stingy.

It is narrow because ego cannot pass through it.

Only the one who consents to go down will be raised up.

Only the one who loses everything will inherit all things.

Reflection based on the writing of

Archimandrite Zacharias Zacharou

The Wondrous and Paradoxical Ethos of Monasticism pp 97-98