In the last several Rules, St. Ignatius taught us how to recognize and respond to spiritual desolation. In his Twelfth Rule, he begins to teach us the specific tactics of the enemy and how we can counter them most effectively.
The Twelfth Rule: The enemy acts like a woman, in being weak against vigor and strong of will. Because, as it is the way of the woman when she is quarreling with some man to lose heart, taking flight when the man shows her much courage: and on the contrary, if the man, losing heart, begins to fly, the wrath, revenge, and ferocity of the woman is very great, and so without bounds; in the same manner, it is the way of the enemy to weaken and lose heart, his temptations taking flight, when the person who is exercising himself in spiritual things opposes a bold front against the temptations of the enemy, doing diametrically the opposite. And on the contrary, if the person who is exercising himself commences to have fear and lose heart in suffering the temptations, there is no beast so wild on the face of the earth as the enemy of human nature in following out his damnable intention with so great malice.
The Twelfth Rule begins with an analogy of man and woman at odds with one another. This is an all-too-common occurrence in our fallen world; for centuries, many men and women have disparaged or manipulated one another—individually or as a whole—in the desire for power or selfish gain. Another analogy that may help us relate even more to this rule is that of a classroom bully.
A bully will usually target someone he perceives as weak or timid, not someone who will stand up to him. Whenever the bully meets his match—maybe an authority figure or “victim” who suddenly won’t back down despite repeated insults or injury, the bully flees in fear (or at the very least slinks off to sulk).
This is the point of St. Ignatius’s analogy in Rule Twelve: these behaviors are directly tied to the enemy’s behavior. Satan is the bully (or manipulative adult, take your pick). The enemy is strong when faced with weakness, but weak when faced with strength.
What does this mean for us as fallen humans with naturally limited strength? Our own strength is deficient, but the enemy is terrified and powerless when it comes to God’s strength—which the Lord offers us whenever we ask.
In her biography, Story of a Soul, St. Thérèse of Lisieux wrote about a vivid dream that she had at the tender age of four. In the dream, she was walking in her garden when she saw two terrible “little devils” or demons. As soon as these demons saw St. Therese they fled in fear, hiding and cowering in a small room adjacent to the garden. Despite her own fear, St. Therese followed them in the dream to observe their behavior. She peeked through the window of the room and watched them run “round and round” the table in agitation, trying mightily to escape her gaze but unable to do so. These seemingly powerful, destructive demons were truly powerless and terrified in the presence of even a timid child because of God’s grace-filled strength in her soul.
As St. Thérèse herself remarked, “This dream, I suppose, has nothing extraordinary about it, and still I believe God permitted me to remember it in order to prove to me that a soul in the state of grace has nothing to fear from demons who are cowards, capable of fleeing before the gaze of a little child!” (Liesieux 1996, 28)
Based on this account and clear Church teaching, the most powerful way to keep the enemy at bay is by remaining in a state of grace. When we frequent the Sacrament of Confession and express true contrition, we’re not only returned to a state of grace, but we receive the particular grace we need to combat each of the sins we’ve confessed. This is an incredible gift of strength from the Lord especially when it comes to combatting habitual sin.
Still, we face countless temptations every day even when we’re in a state of grace. How can we also combat these with God’s strength?
In his teaching on the Twelfth Rule, Fr. Timothy Gallagher cites the importance of “standing firm in the beginning.” Like a snowball at the top of a mountain ready to roll downhill, it will remain small and easy to dissolve if stopped right away. Yet if it is allowed to keep rolling, it can get big enough to plow a person over—or even create a deadly avalanche.
In the same way, the key moment to stand firm spiritually against the enemy is at the very onset of temptation, because that’s when it is easiest to deny. This was the difference between Eve in the garden—who chose to dialogue with the enemy’s temptation and lost miserably—and Jesus in the desert, Who responded firmly and definitively to Satan’s devious temptations with the truth-filled Word of God. In Eve’s case, the enemy stuck around and got stronger until both Adam and Eve fell. In the case of Jesus and His firmness, the enemy fled.
It’s easy to find this difference at work in our own lives. In recent decades I’ve faced increasing health issues, including a degenerative disease that could eventually confine me to a wheelchair. The most persistent temptation in suffering has been fear of the future based on present challenges. I’ve often caught myself thinking, If I’m struggling this much now, how will I be able to cope for thirty or forty more years?
This is a common form of temptation: “If [insert lie about the present here], then there’s no way that [insert dejection about the future here.]” Thankfully, I’ve become acutely aware of this temptation over the years. I’ve realized that in the enemy’s version of the future, he never reveals the sustaining grace the Lord would certainly provide if God allows a certain trial to occur (or continue). In response to this temptation of anxiety over future trials, I started replying with God’s Word from 2 Corinthians 12:9: “even if [insert fear-filled scenario] does happen, God’s grace will be sufficient for me.”
Another way to stand up to the enemy’s bullying temptations is to just say no!, especially when it involves committing or avoiding some specific action. Then, do the exact opposite of whatever the temptation is—or as St. Ignatius says in this rule, “diametrically the opposite.” For example, when it’s time to pray you might be tempted to spend one more minute scrolling or finish one more email. In response, you can firmly set down the phone or shut the computer while saying no, then move deliberately toward your designated prayer space. If inner protests arise as to why you “must” continue the activity in question before prayer, you can remind yourself of some spiritual truths: “The world won’t end if it waits,” or “This escape can’t bring me lasting peace and salvation, but time with Jesus can.”
I’ve also found it helpful to simply turn to God and say “I don’t feel like praying!” or “Satan’s telling me to procrastinate!”—essentially naming the temptation and “tattling” on Satan to God. This is the equivalent of a kid telling their father about a bully’s actions; the father can then leverage his far greater strength and authority to offer protection and seek out proportionate justice. I’ve found that whenever I “tattle” on Satan to my Father in heaven, the enemy seems to flee immediately; those few words are all it takes to move forward more easily in my designated task without further resistance in the moment.
These are but a few ways to stand firm in the beginning, and they all have one thing in common: asking God’s help, and welcoming His grace-filled strength above our own. Prayer in the moment of temptation is never futile. The more we pray for help in our weakness, the more we can receive the Father’s authority when we need it most. This develops a “muscle memory” of receiving God’s strength more reflexively whenever temptation hits, so we can stand tall against the cowardly, pitiful bully who flees in fear from a four-year-old.
In closing, St. Benedict leaves us with this sound advice from his renowned Rule: “As soon as wrongful thoughts come into your heart, dash them against Christ and disclose them to your spiritual father.” (Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 4, Verse 50).
Any temptation dashed against Christ will turn to dust, and—as we will soon discover in Rule Thirteen—any temptation we bring to wise counsel can be exposed in the light of God’s Truth.
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Liesieux, Thérèse of. 1996. Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux Third Edition. Washington, D.C.: ICS.
