Climbing the Ladder: St. John Climacus and the Ascent to God

In this sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Sub Dn. Timothy Grace explores the life and teaching of St. John Climacus, author of the Ladder of Divine Ascent. Drawing on the imagery of Jacob's ladder and the structure of this celebrated spiritual classic, he reflects on the Christian life as a long and demanding ascent — and how the Ladder itself becomes a gateway through which God comes down to meet us.

Transcript

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Today, the Fourth Sunday of Lent, we focus on St. John Climacus and his famous text, the Ladder of Divine Ascent. It is one of those books that everyone has heard of, but few have read, sadly. This Sunday is a reminder that we are called to a divine life — a life lifted up from the earth, because that is what a ladder does for you. It lifts you up from the ground toward a heavenly life. So today we are going to focus on two things: a look at the book itself, the Ladder of Divine Ascent as written by St. John, and also the underpinning truths, messages, patterns, and realities behind this idea of a ladder as a metaphor for the Christian life.

Now, we will hear a little later today about the life of St. John in the Synaxarion, but let us answer the question: why is a saint's book commemorated so strongly on a Sunday in Lent? Well, firstly, in Eastern Christianity, there has been no other book — other than the Bible — which has been more studied, copied, and translated than the Ladder of Divine Ascent. It was even the first book published in the Americas in the 1500s. Having a text for us to focus on also shows that we are a Church that is not just about the Bible — or, to put it a better way, a book like the Ladder of Divine Ascent shows us how to put the Bible's teachings into practice in a very specific and practical way. Both are needed. It is also the Church's way of showing us that we need to read the actual writings of the saints in their own words. In a day and age when we don't have many saints around us, the next best thing are the words that they have written. And when we read their actual words, something is imparted to us — their spirit and their heart.

Let us take a look at the structure of this book. It is divided into five parts. The first part is all about a break with the world — renouncing the values of the world, cutting off. The second part is about some fundamental virtues needed in the life of every Christian: things like obedience, penitence for our sins, and a godly sorrow that leads us then to the next part, which is all about the struggle with the passions. Here St. John takes us through things like anger, slander, talkativeness, lust, and gluttony, and gives us precise instructions — based on his own experience — about how we can be victorious against these passions. Then we move on to some of the higher virtues, such as simplicity and humility. Humility often being something that only saints really achieve at the final and holiest stages of their lives. And then finally, the last stage is about union with God — stillness, prayer, and love.

So what does this bird's-eye view of the structure of the book show us? It shows us that there is a fundamental pattern we need to enact in our lives. First, we must have a break with the values of the world and of the devil, and use our will to decide that we want no more of the ways of the fallen person within us. Then we commit in obedience to God. And this will invariably include our sorrow for sins and penitence. Now, you might be asking: why do we need to remember our sins and mourn for them if they have been forgiven by Christ? Well, St. Silouan the Athonite says that this is the only way for us to preserve humility. It was said of Fr. Seraphim Rose that he always remembered how, before he was a Christian, he used to pray before pagan idols. That memory stayed with him all his life so that he could always be humble before the Lord and not proud. This place of penitence is the basis from which we struggle against the passions, and it is only after this long and arduous journey that we finally arrive at fulfilment and rest.

So the biggest thing we see is that the Christian life is a struggle. It is a marathon. It is a long-term project. It is described metaphorically here as a ladder, but other Church Fathers speak about it as crossing a desert, climbing a mountain, or crossing an ocean — all long and dangerous journeys. This is why engaging in tasks that help put us in the mindset of long-term gain, of investing for later, of delayed gratification, of putting in effort for something that won't pay off for a long time, is helpful. We need to interrogate our lives and see how much of what we do is actually like this.

There is an interesting phenomenon today: a number of people are becoming interested in older ways of doing things. People seek out record players and buy records even though there is an infinite number of songs on something like Spotify. They get into photography with old cameras and actual rolls of film rather than endless digital images. It seems like infinite choice does not satisfy. Something is moving in the world today that is showing people these things do not actually provide true happiness. And so they want something a bit more difficult. This is the value of things like going to the gym, learning a craft, cooking a meal from scratch, or reading a book. They teach us to value persistence, patience, and the benefit of sticking to something over a long time. They teach us to see something like a ladder as valuable. They are like mini ladders in our lives.

But sadly, much of our society is filled with practices that do the exact opposite. They teach us to aim for a quick reward with no effort — to get satisfaction the cheap way. How about ordering takeaway for the third time this week? How about watching movies or playing computer games out of sheer boredom? Scrolling endlessly on your phone? Or — here is a new one — jumping straight to ChatGPT because you just cannot be bothered thinking about something for yourself? I have noticed that all the students here present are suddenly looking very uncomfortable. I wonder why that is. The reality is that short-term dopamine hits hamper and hinder our ability to learn the lesson of the Ladder. If your life is like this, then putting in the long-term work of cultivating the virtues slowly over time is going to be very hard.

For my final point, I would like to speak to the newly illumined — those who were baptised yesterday and who are going to have their first Communion today. Just a little message for you, though I think it will apply to all of us. It is going to be based on the icon of the feast — the icon of the Ladder. We have a rather unusual one today, because the ladder depicted has a break in the middle. There is a crooked bend halfway through. When you come up to venerate it later, you can take a look. And this is a message for us, and especially for the newly illumined: in the ladder of our lives, there are going to be some crooked bends. There are going to be some curveballs thrown along the way — things we did not expect, things we did not sign up for. But the Church Fathers tell us to expect a time of testing and a time of trial.

There is a story from the Old Testament that helps us understand this reality. It also features a ladder. It is the story of Jacob and the ladder from Genesis chapter 28. To give some background: Jacob has just cheated his brother Esau out of the family inheritance and blessing by lying to his blind father Isaac. Because Esau now wants to kill him, Jacob has to flee to a far-away land to stay with relatives. He is travelling through the desert at night, stops to sleep, and has a vision: a ladder reaching from earth to heaven, with angels ascending and descending upon it, and God at the top.

We notice a few interesting things. The ladder appeared to him at a difficult time in his life — a time of testing, a crossroads, and, let us be honest, a time of sin. He had deceived and manipulated his way to where he was, and here he was alone in this time of trial. He withdrew into the desert. The text tells us he slept on a stone for a pillow. And it was then that this vision of the Ladder opened up. It is a reminder to all of us that in difficult times — even in the darkness, even in the pain of our sin and our aloneness — we should withdraw, find the Ladder of the virtues, and connect to the ascetic struggle that will bring us back to Christ. In hard times is precisely when we should redouble our efforts: in prayer, in repentance, in the life of the Church.

A Romanian nun, Mother Siluana Vlad, says that we should turn all of our sin, our pain, our doubt, our struggle into prayer — because these things add flesh to our prayer. They make it something real. This is not a time to turn to created things — to food, to alcohol, to distractions, to yet another TV show, something else to buy. These are all anesthetics that will not actually help us. In these times of our lives, an ascetic choice opens up the path to God. So book in that confession, add to your prayer rule, increase the fast, attend the church service, and sit in silence.

And just to finish: what we see finally is that the Ladder is not just an opportunity for us to ascend to God, but a way for God to come down to us. When Jacob first sees the ladder, he hears the voice of God at the top. The next time he is in the desert, in Genesis 32, he wrestles with a man whom Jacob later identifies as being God himself — an incarnate manifestation of God. God has come down. And we recall the words from James 4:8: "Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you." Make an effort to meet him on the Ladder of the virtues, and he will meet you there.

Here is a verse that will feature in the Synaxarion later on — one that we should all memorise: Matthew 11:12: "The kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force." You put in the effort, and God will reward you with the kingdom of heaven. He will meet you there. For Jacob, the ladder became an opening to heavenly blessing that influenced his whole people, the people of Israel. When we take seriously the call of the virtues, this has the flow-on effect of bringing the presence of the Holy Spirit to those around us — the Ladder becomes a gateway. The Ladder becomes a gateway for the presence of God.

This is exactly what Jesus says in today's Gospel: that "this kind" — speaking of demonic activity — "only comes out through prayer and fasting." What he is saying is that if people apply themselves to prayer and fasting, this has spiritual power, because the Holy Spirit will meet us there. The Ladder becomes a gateway.

So to conclude: Moses and Elijah had a mountain. Zacchaeus had a tree. St. Simeon the Stylite had a pillar. And we have the Ladder of the virtues — to lift us up to Christ's embrace, as portrayed magnificently and clearly in the Ladder of Divine Ascent. So let us read it, and let us apply it to our lives as is relevant.

The Ladder teaches us that there are no quick fixes. There is no magic bullet. There is no shortcut and there is no secret way. There is just the struggle — the upward path, the fight, the mountain, the climb — which, when we apply ourselves to it, becomes energised by the grace of the Holy Spirit. The process of cutting ourselves off from the source of the passions, repenting, and doing the hard work of cultivating the virtues is the pathway to encountering Christ, as witnessed by the saints, and especially in times of difficulty in our lives.

Blessed be the virtuous Ladder that can redeem our past, justify the present, and prepare us for the future. Blessed be the holy Ladder whereby God can break our generational curses and ancestral sins passed down through our families. Blessed be the wondrous Ladder which becomes a gateway — bringing to us and to those around us peace, stillness, dispassion, and pure prayer, which is the only true joy in this world.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.