In chapters 24 to 26 of The Spiritual Combat, Italian priest and author Lorenzo Scupoli presents three interconnected disciplines as indispensable strategies for victory in spiritual warfare: the strict governance of the tongue through silence, the cultivation of unshakable peace of mind, and the practice of a prompt, humble return after every fall. These practices deprive the spiritual enemy of his most potent weapons – idle words, anxious agitation, and despairing self-focus – and keep the soul steadily oriented toward God.
Scupoli warns that the tongue is a faculty naturally inclined to flatter the senses and feed pride. Talkativeness, he argues, often stems from an “inflated sense of one’s own wisdom,” leading to spiritual evils: idleness, folly, slander, lying, and the cooling of devotion. This echoes the biblical warning that the tongue is a “fire” and that a man who “offend not in word” is a “perfect man.” (Jas 3:2, 6)
To govern this unruly member, Scupoli provides practical rules. Believers must avoid long conversations that encourage vanity and shun loud, domineering speech. One should rarely speak about oneself or one’s relatives, and only briefly and out of necessity. The rule for speaking about others is to say little, and only to defend or praise them. The modern St. Josemaria Escriva advises: “When you cannot praise, and there is no need to speak, keep quiet!” The ultimate goal is to cultivate a state where, even amid conversation, the heart can ascend to God.
The remedy for talkativeness is silence, which Scupoli calls a “strong fortress and pledge of victory.” Silence is the “friend of self-distrust and trust in God, guardian of prayer, and aid to holiness.” To grow in this virtue, one must consciously ponder the dangers of excessive speech, practise voluntary silence even when speaking is lawful, and withdraw from unnecessary company. This ancient wisdom is powerfully affirmed by the Desert Fathers, with Abba Arsenius famously testifying, “I have often repented of having spoken, but never of having remained silent.”
The second pillar is the maintenance of an inner climate of peace of heart. Scupoli insists that nothing, not even sorrow for sin or compassion for others, should be allowed to disturb this tranquility. This peace is not a passive state but a vital, active defence, as anxiety and disquiet always hide a “root of self-love.”
The Christian is called to accept all external tragedies – illness, death, disasters – not as real evils, but as divine pedagogy, “permitted or sent by God for just and holy purposes.” The mind must act as a sentinel, detecting and confronting any disturbance early, remembering that once peace is lost, the soul becomes vulnerable to the enemy. The devil, who “hates this peace, dwelling-place of the Holy Spirit,” often uses seemingly good desires to disturb it.
The practical remedy for agitation is the submission of all desires to God without self-will, asking him to reveal their true source. Even when a desire is from God, Scupoli advises mortifying natural eagerness before acting, suggesting that the mortification itself may please God more than the work. True peace is protected by rightly interpreting interior remorse: if compunction humbles and spurs to good, it is from the Lord; if it leads to fear, discouragement, and sloth, it is a temptation to be ignored.
The third pillar is the discipline of the prompt, humble return after being “wounded.” The core counsel is never to fall into discouragement or agitation, even after a deliberate fall.
Immediately upon realizing the fault, the soul must turn to God and acknowledge, “This is what I am capable of by myself,” thereby humbling itself and stirring indignation against the passion that caused the fall. The next crucial step is to thank God for having prevented an even greater fall and to renew trust in his mercy with a simple, confident prayer for forgiveness.
Scupoli warns against the devil’s trap of anxious scrutiny over whether one has been pardoned, which is often a manifestation of pride. Instead, the soul must entrust itself to God and resume its spiritual exercises as if it had not fallen. This act of humble return must be repeated every time, even if one falls “many times in a single day.” This persistence greatly displeases the devil, who sees himself overcome precisely where he first seemed victorious.
St. Francis de Sales said, “Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them, every day begin the task anew.”
Your voice matters! Join the conversation by submitting a Letter to the Editor here.
