Lābhasakkāra: Gain and honor
These are ranked among the sharpest dangers on the path, precisely because they arrive looking like rewards. Uzziah was marvelously helped until his name spread far abroad, and the help itself became the baited hook he swallowed. The support that raised him was the same thing that made the altar of incense look available to him.
Mada: Intoxication with strength
Mada is the giddiness that health, youth, and power pour into a person. Strength worked on Uzziah the way wine does, loosening his sense of where he stood; each tower fortified and each army mustered poured another cup. By the time he carried the censer toward the altar, he could no longer tell what was his to do.
Māna: Conceit
Conceit is the running measurement: better, equal, worse. A heart lifted up has been weighed against everything in the kingdom and found nothing above it, so the only place left to stand is the one spot reserved for someone else. Azariah and the eighty priests who ran in behind him were not disputing his crown, only telling him where the measuring had put him.
Pamāda: Heedlessness
Care slackens most easily where things are going well. Uzziah watched every detail for decades, cisterns dug in the wilderness, vineyards tended, walls repaired, because he was still building something. Once it stood finished, the watching stopped, and corrupt acts slid into the gap it left.
Hiri and Ottappa: Moral shame and dread
These two are called the guardians of the world, posted at the edge of an act. The doorway of the temple is a line on the floor that any man can step over; those guards are all that ever kept a king from doing it. Uzziah crossed with the censer already lit, which means they had gone quiet in him long before his foot moved.