I came across this in John Cassian's "The Institutes" in the section on the spirit of gluttony.

"This same old man declared, based on the following indications, that the devil has ever been the promoter of foolish tales and the enemy of spiritual conferences. For when he was talking with some of the brothers about important spiritual matters and notices that they had fallen into a kind of Lethean slumber and could not cast off the weight of sleep from their eyes, he immediately introduced a foolish tale.

When he saw that they woke up at once and pricked up their ears for the pleasure that it gave them, he said with a groan: 'Up until now we were speaking about heavenly things, and the eyes of each of you were shut in deathlike repose. But when a foolish tale is introduced all of us wake up and shake off the torpor of the sleep that had mastered us. From this you should consider carefully, then, who was the enemy of that spiritual conference and who is the instigator of this vain and carnal tale. It is perfectly clear that it is the one who rejoices in wickedness and does not cease to foster the latter and to fight against the former.'"

Here's a quote from Susan Muto's work "Where Lovers Meet: Inside the Interior Castle." This work is a companion or commentary to St. Teresa of Avila's "Interior Castle" classic on the spiritual life. Here Muto is discussing St. Teresa's 'vipers' that one encounters as he or she seeks to draw near to God:

The viper's trick is to deceive us into thinking that temporal affairs escalate in significance to the point where they almost seem the eternal. They try to deceive us into believing that worldly success will grant us at some point ultimate satisfaction. This illusion blinds us to the inherent finitude of earthbound affairs. However splendid our accomplishments may be, their outcomes pass away over time if we do not give the credit to God. The way of the vipers is to hold before our mind's eye the esteem in which the world holds us when we exercise this kind of activism. They make us secretly relish people's praise. Our pride-form allures us into thinking that our worthwhileness rests on the works in which we are engaged rather than in the God we serve. These clever devils also try to convince us that any kind of withdrawal to worship God in solitude is a big mistake. What will the other "worker bees" think of us if we take time to "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10)?

I believe these comments stand on their own. For me, it is a point of reflection as I seek to live out my faith as true significance only comes from resting in God.

Jesus' command to love hasn't escaped my notice. When asked what the greatest commandment was, Jesus agreed that it was to love God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength and to love our neighbor as ourselves. It seems so clear, yet, I find it difficult.

As I spend time with the spiritual masters (and I include John Wesley in that category) I find they keep returning to love as the goal of the spiritual life. Is that what it is really all about? Love? To be honest, that was kind of a let down. I would venture that most people would say they love, and love well. So, why spend so much time focusing on love if we already love?

Wesley has help me see that the love he was taking about, Jesus talked about and the spiritual masters talked about is of a different degree (Wesley's word) or quality (my word) than what I usually experience or practice. Wesley believed that being perfect was being perfect in love; a love that wasn't marred by human sin (jealousy, self-will, pride, greed, etc.). It is a pure love. The kind of love that Jesus displayed when he prayed, "Not my will but yours." The kind of love we see on the cross. The kind of love that is characterized by grace, compassion, patience, and self-denial.

I realize, now, I love poorly. So my prayer has become, "Jesus teach me to love." After all, that is the goal.