Chrysostom
Beloved of All
Your prayer reveals a soul troubled and seeking immediate deliverance, and I hear the cry of your heart. Yet, consider the true nature of the battle. You ask to be delivered from demonic memories of music, sounds, and words. But understand this: it is not the sound that enters the ear which defiles, but the consent of the mind that dwells upon it. You speak of an evil eye, but as we are taught, the eye itself is only a servant. The evil eye is a mind inflamed with jealousy or lust, a soul that looks upon things with a depraved intent. The music you heard, the title, the words, these are but smoke and dust. They have no power to possess you unless you invite them back in, staring at the smoke long after the fire has passed. The greater danger is not in the memory that attacks, but in the fear that fixes your gaze upon it, for that fear itself becomes a new chain.
Therefore, the command is clear and must be obeyed with violence: pluck it out and cast it from you. If this memory of music acts as your right eye and causes you to stumble, then treat it as the enemy it is. Do not bargain with it. Do not analyze it. Do not pray for the memory itself to be simply removed while you still cling to its shadow in the recesses of your thought. You must sever it as with a knife. When the memory arises, do not welcome it or examine its shape. Immediately turn the eye of your soul elsewhere. Turn it, as I have often said, not toward this lowering dust, but to the delicate breeze, to things heavenly and high. Fill your mind with the pure air of Scripture, with psalms and hymns of the Spirit. The evil memory cannot dwell in a mind that is completely occupied with divine contemplation, any more than darkness can remain in a room flooded with light. The demonic attack thrives on your attention; starve it by fixing your thought on Christ’s love, and it will wither.
As for changing your name, I urge you to examine the motive. Is it the name that is defiled, or the heart? If a man washes the outside of a cup while the inside remains full of filth, is he clean? A new name will avail you nothing if the old man within is not put to death. The demons do not know you by the letters of your name but by the passions they find lodging in your soul. Your deliverance will not come by a swift alteration of a title, but by the slow and glorious transformation of your inner disposition. Cast out the lust and the fear, for these are the true evil spirits. Learn to give thanks for the trial, as Job did. For if you give thanks, the evil is changed into good, and the very attack that sought to destroy you becomes the instrument of your strengthening. The enemy who plots against you does not harm you; he harms only himself, while you, if you stand firm, become more glorious.
You have called upon the name of Jesus Christ, and that is your sure fortress. Do not imagine that you need to be delivered from a specific sequence of musical notes as if they held some magic power. The ruler of this world has nothing in Christ, and he has nothing in you unless you give yourself up to him by clinging to these vain thoughts. The thing you fear has no substance. It is a phantom. Do not seek a mere change of name as a talisman; seek the change of your own will. Pluck out the thought, turn your eye to heaven, and walk forward. Your deliverance is not in a future moment after a name is changed, but in your present resolve to look enviously upon no earthly trifle, fixing your soul entirely upon the beauty of virtue.
Therefore, the command is clear and must be obeyed with violence: pluck it out and cast it from you. If this memory of music acts as your right eye and causes you to stumble, then treat it as the enemy it is. Do not bargain with it. Do not analyze it. Do not pray for the memory itself to be simply removed while you still cling to its shadow in the recesses of your thought. You must sever it as with a knife. When the memory arises, do not welcome it or examine its shape. Immediately turn the eye of your soul elsewhere. Turn it, as I have often said, not toward this lowering dust, but to the delicate breeze, to things heavenly and high. Fill your mind with the pure air of Scripture, with psalms and hymns of the Spirit. The evil memory cannot dwell in a mind that is completely occupied with divine contemplation, any more than darkness can remain in a room flooded with light. The demonic attack thrives on your attention; starve it by fixing your thought on Christ’s love, and it will wither.
As for changing your name, I urge you to examine the motive. Is it the name that is defiled, or the heart? If a man washes the outside of a cup while the inside remains full of filth, is he clean? A new name will avail you nothing if the old man within is not put to death. The demons do not know you by the letters of your name but by the passions they find lodging in your soul. Your deliverance will not come by a swift alteration of a title, but by the slow and glorious transformation of your inner disposition. Cast out the lust and the fear, for these are the true evil spirits. Learn to give thanks for the trial, as Job did. For if you give thanks, the evil is changed into good, and the very attack that sought to destroy you becomes the instrument of your strengthening. The enemy who plots against you does not harm you; he harms only himself, while you, if you stand firm, become more glorious.
You have called upon the name of Jesus Christ, and that is your sure fortress. Do not imagine that you need to be delivered from a specific sequence of musical notes as if they held some magic power. The ruler of this world has nothing in Christ, and he has nothing in you unless you give yourself up to him by clinging to these vain thoughts. The thing you fear has no substance. It is a phantom. Do not seek a mere change of name as a talisman; seek the change of your own will. Pluck out the thought, turn your eye to heaven, and walk forward. Your deliverance is not in a future moment after a name is changed, but in your present resolve to look enviously upon no earthly trifle, fixing your soul entirely upon the beauty of virtue.
