All teachers of other doctrine are puffed up, although they sometimes cover themselves with a very humble appearance. They are wolves in sheep's clothing.
Tetuphōtai, the Apostle says: he has swollen up like a soap bubble. A soap bubble seems to be something, but in fact it has nothing firm in itself.
So also the teacher of other doctrine does not conform to the direct word of God, nor to the teaching of the Church, which is the pillar and foundation of the truth.
Having built by his own mind a system of teaching about salvation, he carries it about with him. In self-delusion he imagines that at last he has grasped the truth which others do not know. And he puffs himself up.
Yet it is obvious that he does not know the truth, but has deviated into falsehood. Falsehood asserts that what does not exist does exist.
Therefore, although it presents itself as knowledge and may appear so to others, in fact it knows nothing. It only bubbles up as though it knew.
The Apostle marks this when he says that the one teaching otherwise "is puffed up, knowing nothing." Suppose someone should deceive your eyes and present a heap of rubbish to you as a heap of gold.
It would appear to you to be a heap of gold, but in reality it would still be a heap of rubbish. Such is every system of teachers of other doctrine.
It appears brilliant, like golden truth. In reality it is a collection of fantasies containing no truth. One may take this as a sign.
As soon as puffed-up self-opinion is joined to some mental construction, know that falsehood is hidden there. It is not the comprehension of truth, but fantasy and ignorance.
Saint Chrysostom says, "Therefore it happens that we are inflamed with pride not from knowledge of the truth, but from ignorance of it. For the one who knows the teaching consistent with piety knows best of all how to humble himself.
The one instructed in sound doctrine is not possessed by this illness of pride. Therefore someone may know something, or think he knows, and yet know nothing as he should. For whoever does not know what he ought to know, knows nothing."
Since the teacher of other doctrine has built his own system of teaching and is swollen with it, he cannot tolerate anything inconsistent with him.
He regards it as an insult to himself in the most sensitive place and as a humiliation of his highly held teaching authority. Therefore he everywhere introduces questionings and disputes about words.
Fierce contentiousness accompanies him and follows in his tracks. This is what Saint Paul next sets forth: "sick with questionings and disputes of words."
Questionings, zētēseis, are inquiries and the setting forth of questions: what is this, whence is that, how is that thing so, and the like. Then discussions begin, and no end to them should be expected.
Disputes of words, logomachiai, are war over words. Since the teacher of other doctrine offers as truth what is not truth, and to which reality does not correspond, his speech contains nothing substantial.
It is a heap of words. In defending himself, he does nothing else than quarrel over words. He is sick with word-strife.
By saying "sick," the Apostle gives the thought that an insatiable impulse toward disputes reigns in the soul of the teacher of other doctrine. This contentiousness sits within him like some sore. And he disputes endlessly.
The Apostles had as a rule not to begin disputes. "We have no such custom," he says (cf. 1 Cor 11:16). Saint Paul writes both to Saint Titus and Saint Timothy not to enter into disputes.
Speak or bear witness to the truth, and that is enough. Whoever is of the truth will listen. Whoever is not of the truth, however much you dispute with him, you will accomplish nothing with him.
Dispute arises from anxiety over the firmness of a thought. This anxiety comes from a lack of conviction concerning the all-sufficiency of its foundations. The Apostles received the truth directly from God, and they rested immovably in faith in it.
Special arguments for confirming the truth were not required for them. Nor did they invent such arguments for others. They only expounded what God the Holy Spirit inspired in them.
This is what teachers of other doctrine lack. They hasten to make it up with the noise of words. What the Apostles did is still done in the Church to this day.
She offers the teaching according to piety, which she received from God through the Apostles, and which she has kept and keeps. Whoever is of the truth listens. Whoever is not of the truth goes away.
The Church sees this, but does not stir up disputes. She only prays. Saint Chrysostom says, "Therefore contention is an illness. And rightly so.
The soul engages in inquiry, zētēsis, when it is inflamed by thoughts as by fever, and when they storm it. That is, when it is sick. But when it is in a healthy state, it does not inquire, but rests in faith.
Through inquiry and disputes nothing can be found. For when inquiry approaches the clarification of what is proclaimed by faith alone, it neither discloses it nor grants understanding of it.
It is as though someone, closing his eyes, should begin to seek something he desires to find. He would not be able to succeed. So without faith nothing can be discovered. Disputes must inevitably be born."
"Where there is no faith," Theophylact continues, "there everything is sick. There only verbal war, war over words, flares up, and nothing more. In it the more skilled in controversy strains to overthrow the other.
Faith is the eye. One who has no eyes finds nothing, but only seeks." Knowing nothing, he swells up as though all-knowing, and he is sick with contentiousness. Such is the character of the teacher of other doctrine.
What fruit now comes from this? "From these," that is, from questionings and disputes of words, "come envy, rivalry, blasphemies, evil suspicions." All this is seen in every word-strife.
Envy envies because another has gained the upper hand. It is accompanied by rivalry, eris, a zeal that provokes an intense effort not to let another get ahead or prevail.
It also strives to cast the one who prevailed back down beneath oneself. From this zeal comes the heat of dispute. In the heat of dispute, blasphemies and evil suspicions involuntarily break out.
Blasphemies: they revile one another for turns of speech, inconsistency, ignorance of facts and aspects of the matter, inaccurate understanding of testimonies, and the like.
This most of all inflames irritation. By implanting discord and hostility, it bars every entrance of truth into the soul. Yet simple reviling cannot help but give off the smell of blasphemy against God.
For the disputing teacher of other doctrine goes against the truth, and against God's truth. Therefore he goes against God. By reviling God's truth, he reviles God.
Nor is it surprising if some blasphemy breaks forth directly against God, concerning, for example, the ordering of salvation, the holy mysteries, and providence in general.
Evil suspicions, hyponoiai ponērai. Hyponoiai are suspicions, thoughts running up and stealing in: is it not really so? The teacher of other doctrine does not spare the conscience of one who disagrees with him.
He mercilessly pours out phrases, increasingly sharp. Among them it is not surprising to find some which leave an impression and produce wavering: is it not so?
This "is it not so," like a splinter, enters the heart and darkens the peace of faith and the brightness of the soul's state. Here is an example.
A young monk was sent somewhere by his elder. On the road a Jew attached himself to him and began a dispute in defense of Judaism. It ended when the monk said, "Perhaps it is so."
When he returned home, the elder saw him dark as soot. "Perhaps it is so" was his evil suspicion, and see what it produced.
As evil, proceeding from the evil and dark one, it filled his whole soul and body with darkness. Certainly this happened because it also brought the evil and dark one himself within.
Rest in faith, fleeing every dispute, and you will escape such misfortune. Evil suspicions seem to be nothing, like a slight movement of air.
So it appears, but in reality they are a true wound requiring healing. In matters of faith they are like thoughts that take possession of the heart in the matter of life.
The latter are either driven out by struggle or cast one into a fall. So also with the former. One must either fight quickly, restoring the point of faith against which they are directed, or inevitably fall under their power.
If one does not do this, he deviates from the truth. Thus all errors spread, and all apostasies from the faith are accomplished.