Herald of Hope

Annually, the bishops of Region VII (the states of Wisconsin, Illinois and Indiana) gather for an August retreat. It is a graced time to come away by ourselves for prayer, reflection and discussion for a few days. Typical of a preached retreat, a guest retreat master provides several talks each day — fodder for personal reflection and growing edge challenges.

Among the presentations last month was a reflection on the topic of acedia. You may recall that in Bishop Jim Schuerman’s Feb. 3 column, he too referenced acedia in his consideration of the examination of conscience. (I’m trying to test your memory here, forgive me.)

Acedia is not a household word for most of us. Well, unless your house happens to be a monastery or a department of medieval literature. It is worth noting, however, that the word acedia has persisted, that is, coming and going from the English language over the centuries. The term was most recently reinstated in the supplement to the Oxford English Dictionary that appeared after World War II — after being marked “obsolete” for many years. It’s been said that language has a logic and wisdom all its own. And it seems that the word acedia has made a return because we have a need for it.

At its Greek root, acedia means a state of physical and/or mental inactivity or lethargy — an extreme sluggishness, stagnation or inertia. It is a state of being that includes an unconcern or dissatisfaction with one’s position or condition in the world — all of which is governed by an absence of care. And it is exactly this latter element which distinguishes acedia from sloth. At their core, they are not the same. As one author puts it: With acedia, there is even a lack of care that the person does not care. There exists here a deep-seated despondency.

The term acedia was used first in Christianity by monks and other ascetics who lived solitary lives and were tempted to become listless and inert (like matter when it becomes inert, it is lifeless and spiritless) — or who began longing to be elsewhere — or doing something other than what they were doing.

As Bishop Schuerman informed us in his insightful column, Evagrius Ponticus, a late 4th century Christian monk from Constantinople, drafted a list of eight fundamental thoughts or passions — oftentimes referred to as “wicked thoughts” — which he saw as generic, since according to his understanding, not only are all other negative thoughts generated from them, but these specific eight are themselves interwoven in many various ways. And listed among the eight is the term acedia.

Acedia is understood as the “noonday demon,” something that attacks the believer when the sun is at its highest and the heat is unbearably oppressive. It is more than a flaw of character. Rather, it is a force that drains the person of energy and life, ultimately leading to spiritual death, and at times, in its most extreme form, to suicide. In the monk’s own words: “tearing the soul to pieces as a hunting dog does to a fawn.”

According to the writings of Evagrius, it is as if acedia makes it impossible for the other passions to operate — so pervasive is the gloom. For this reason, he identifies acedia as “the most oppressive of all the spiritual demons.” On the day that it strikes, no other thought follows but that of despondency — first because it persists — and then additionally because it consumes in itself nearly all the other thoughts. Hence, it is one of the most dangerous of the vices and the most difficult to combat, especially if it settles into a more or less permanent condition. The frustration of desire, inevitably accompanied by anger, fuels a deadly stagnation. “A despondent person hates precisely what is available,” Evagrius writes, “and desires what is not available.” The person is thus reduced to a state of irrationality, “dragged by desires and beaten by hatred.”

Thus, in the life of the soul, acedia represents a type of dead end. The individual has a distaste for what is available, namely the spiritual coupled with a distorted longing for what is not available. This in turn paralyzes the natural functions of the soul to such a degree that no single other thought can gain the upper hand. Not surprisingly then, Evagrius observes, the resulting lethargy leads to the neglect of prayer and the despising of all things spiritual.

So, with this bit of history in mind along with insights from the monastery, what might acedia look like to the modern eye?

Here are several simple, plausible scenarios — a potential seedbed where acedia might creep in:

  • When the person has frittered away the morning, letting himself/herself be distracted from the tasks at hand whatever they may be — and it hardly seems worth trying to salvage the rest of the day.
  • Or when one’s energy levels are low — perhaps the Lenten fast is irksome, and one is tempted to break it by foraging in the refrigerator.
  • Or when the person is facing the monotony of the daily routine and when a creeping spiritual inertia and indifference starts to undermine the person.

That is when the noonday demon strikes!!

In the mid-20th century, British author Aldous Huxley (1894-1963) called acedia the primary affliction of his age — and its “menacing influence still sours our relationship to society, politics and our families.” Huxley’s words resonate even today if we give pause to ponder our society, our current state of politics and the condition of the family.

Kathleen Norris describes acedia as “manifesting both as boredom and restlessness — inertia and workaholism — as well as reluctance to commit to a particular person or place because of a nagging sense that something better might come along.” She goes on to write: “In this hyped-up world, broadcast and Internet news media have emerged as acedia’s perfect vehicles, demanding that we care, all at once, about a suicide bombing, a celebrity divorce, and the latest advance in nanotechnology. But the ceaseless bombardment makes us impervious to caring.”

Archbishop Charles Chaput, the emeritus Archbishop of Philadelphia states: “Acedia — akin to the sin of sloth — is the most overlooked but widespread illness of the modern age; the emptiness under the mask of the world’s frantic energy.”

There is much more here to ponder for our daily living and our spiritual growth. My intent was to scratch the surface on the topic of acedia and provide some food for your personal reflection as I mull over the days of retreat with my brother bishops.

For further reading:

1) Jean-Claude Nault, O.S.B., “The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times” (2013)

2) Kathleen Norris: “Acedia & Me: A Marriage, Monks, and A Writer’s Life” (2008)