You know when the Fathers spoke about acedia with regard to monks? I really sympathised with those monks who were struggling with monastasism not because they were slothful or lazy, but the life in a desert skete was so arduous. For some of them this might be the point where they had to acknowledge that a monk's life was not for them because they actually needed people, even if they didn't realise it before. They probably came to feel that the life they had chosen was driving them mad. The heat, the solitude, the silence the monotonous round of prayers etc. However strong that we feel our faith is, we are tripped up by ourselves, by parts of ourselves that we don't realise are there till we try to walk in faith, especially if, as I have found, we try to live by the letter and thereby miss the spirit.
‘The Lord of the Rings is of course a fundamentally religious and Catholic work; unconsciously so at first, but consciously in the revision. That is why I have not put in, or have cut out, practically all references to anything like ‘religion’, to cults or practices, in the imaginary world. For the religious element is absorbed into the story and the symbolism.’ Tolkien
It really is so profound. Those words of invocation by Frodo to Eärendil, asking his intercession, as well as Galadriel’s intercession, are yet another example of the sacramentality of the world of LOTR, of grace mediated through the created world. Fundamentally Catholic indeed.
"What? You too? I thought I was the only one." This dark horror has been at the back of my mind--sometimes closer--for decades. And I too am stuck. Thank you for this bit of real hope. Off to find Evagrius.
Hmm...pretty much, but the key word this time is "useful," lol.
As for Tolkien, I can swivel around from where I'm sitting and can see his books on the shelf behind me. Every time you mention him, I'm tempted to open them back up, but I don't. I don't because every time I ever have, and it doesn't matter which work it is, I fall in and can't climb out until I've read every last page all over again. He's a disease that only needs a bare scratch and you're re-infected.
Fighting vainly the old ennui, on a Friday evening, while on-call at the hospital, how better to pass the time than to untangle an article from the Summa? Below is my regurgitation of Thomas’s answer to the question whether sloth is a sin. He has more to say on sloth/acedia which, depending on how this is received, I may post as a comment later, but this is where I first went after reading Hilary’s post. So, with apologies to the Angelic Doctor, to Cole Porter, and with your most gracious indulgences, kind reader, I’m just going to put this here:
Thomas first goes to Saint John Damascene for the definition of sloth. Damascene calls it “an oppressive sorrow, which so weighs upon man's mind, that he wants to do nothing.”
Sloth implies a certain weariness, an abhorrence of work, a sluggishness of the mind and the neglect even to begin the smallest good thing.
Let’s talk about this sorrow, since it’s a sin.
This sorrow is always evil. It’s evil purely and simply, and it’s evil also in what follows in its wake.
It’s evil purely and simply when it causes us to sorrow for a thing which is, in reality a good thing, but only appears evil. Spiritual goods are real goods. We don’t grieve for them, we’re grateful for them.
We’re supposed to grieve over things which are really evil. But even when we do this, sorrow can still produce an evil effect. This is when our grief so oppresses us that it draws us away entirely from good deeds. Saint Paul was afraid the Corinthians who had just repented might do this, so he warned them against being “swallowed up with overmuch sorrow.”
Acedia, then, or sloth, denotes sorrow for a spiritual good and is evil on two counts: both, in itself and in its effect. As an evil movement of the appetite, it is a sin.
This sorrow is different from a mere passion or emotion. Passions are not sinful in themselves. But they can be blameworthy insofar as they are applied to something evil. And yet, they can also be praiseworthy, insofar as they are applied to something good. So sorrow, in itself, calls neither for praise nor for blame while a moderate sorrow for evil calls for praise. But sorrow for good, or an immoderate sorrow for evil, calls for blame. It is in this sense that sloth is said to be a sin. Our appetites are supposed to move us well. When we let them move us poorly, on purpose, they’re sins.
Humility is in a man when he does not think too much of himself, he observes, after all, his own faults. But if he suddenly proceeds to contemn the good things he has received from God, this, instead of being a display of his humility, shows him to be ungrateful. When we think of the goods of others, we should think highly of them. And yet, we should also think of them in such a way as not to disparage those goods that we ourselves have received. For if we disparage the goods we have received they would then be for us an occasion rather for sorrow than for joy.
We should always shun sin. But the assaults of different sins are overcome differently. Some are overcome by flight. This is especially the case when the continued thought of the sin increases the incentive to sin, as in lust. This is why the Apostle says, “Fly fornication.” The assaults of some sins are overcome by resistance, as when perseverance in the thought diminishes the incentive to sin. This incentive trivializes what we should really consider to be something greater. Which is why the more we think about spiritual goods, the more pleasing they become to us, thus extinguishing sloth.
And yes, excessive sorrow can eat you. Many years ago a close friend died, and I fell headlong into a black pit of sorrow it took me half a year to climb out of again.
I knew you were going to say that [but now I suddenly see you didn't!!!]. Thomas, I hazard, would be the first to agree with you about kowtowing to the scholastics when there are perfectly good and far more ancient fathers to learn from. For me he's a portal to the fathers. Who else throws together a little mash-up of Cassian, Isidore and Gregory just in order to get his 'acedia' sorted out.
I'm sufficiently encouraged. Expect more from the Duccio of Theoligians (and I'll take partial credit for that little moniker).
There is a technique I use, that may be of help for you when you are attacked. A priest friend I knew taught it to me. He said that if there are times when the attack on your will hits you so bad that you are struggling even to remember the rote prayers you learned as a child:
Clench your teeth together gently, keep your lips closed gently, and keep your tongue absolutely still.
Then carefully, without moving your mouth or your lips in sympathetic imitation of speaking, say the name Jesus in your mind.
Really make an effort to enunciate every syllable of His Name mentally. Do it over and over, as many times as you can.
It is a good way to exercise the will, and saying His name without moving any part of your mouth or tongue is not easy to do.
(Also, His Name itself has a subtle, hidden Power -- just like the Vial of Galadriel, His Name is a Word that is a light in the darkened mind ... when all other lights go out.)
No. Beautiful as it is, recitation of the Jesus prayer is not going to have the same intention, because it is not the correct form , and the purpose of it is for a different matter. Matter, form and intention are very important. Especially when you are in a situation where you are under some form of physical, mental or spiritual attack. That is why the exercise is done only one way, and exactly that way. Try it yourself and you will find it is not so easy to do.
This manner of prayer, the short, brief, aspirational, prayer is nearly infinite in variety. The old masters referred to it as ejaculatory prayer, but I haven't seen that term used a whole lot recently in this regard. Except in the Manual for Indulgences which was revised in 1999 where they're referred to as aspirational prayers. This is off the top of my head, so forgive me, but I believe the Church grants a partial indulgence to the recitation of these prayers. In describing these aspirations it gives the most favorable of interpretations and even provides a list of 'commonly used' aspirations, most of which I have never heard that way.
My point, here, I guess, is that the technique is itself very useful precisely because it is so broadly applicable. The content of the prayer, however, will indeed vary greatly depending on the circumstance and the intention. In some instances, "Jesus" can certainly be an expression of the Act of Faith. Other times, of Hope or of Love, or of Contrition, or of Adoration, or of "please, just help me get through this...", etc. In all these cases, I suppose, the important thing is that you're turning that briefest of moments into an occasion of prayer. And once we start doing that, acedia is dead in the water.
I had a miniature, but certain breakthrough at the parish this past weekend, sufficiently motivating for me to redouble my efforts both to continue my approach to my work in the parish as well as to strengthen the spiritual bulwarks of the parish against acedia, especially two of its daughters “despair” and “faint-heartedness.” Those latter two happen to be old nemeses of mine.
One pithy description of my pastoral plan, as outlined by the admonition at the end of the homily at my first mass, preached by the dear priest, now since gone to God, a spiritual director of mine and father of my soul is, in ten words or less: “Fall in love; Get Married; Have a bunch of kids.” When he arrived at that moment in the homily, which I could see coming, I knew it would catch by surprise those in the congregation unaccustomed to his style. Sure enough, when he said it, there were several looks of confusion and a few of consternation. But they were the minority. His point, which I had heard him say before and am so glad now to have eternally fused to the earliest moments of my priestly ministry is this: spiritual fatherhood, to which I have the privilege of being called must be rooted in the work of love, of fidelity, and of life.
I’ve been return with greater frequency to that encouragement. I’m at year five, in the parish, fifteen since ordination. The evidence of the fruitfulness can be long in coming. The “have a bunch of kids” part, I’m just now learning, does happen, with God’s help, but frequently, as in my case, only first after a long, long time. The young, upstart, 'get-after-‘em' part of me finds it so hard to abide that duration of time. I’ll often figure, wrongly, arrogantly, vainly, that my brilliance, or my dazzling ability to explain things, or my wit, or winsomeness will be able to hasten the fruitfulness of my apostolic work. Meanwhile, God, who brings the fruitfulness, dashes all this vanity on the rock of protracting the eventual revelation of any fruitfulness just long enough to purify my heart of the stupidity of thinking that I’m the one who’s so special.
Despair and Faint-heartedness, however, come around during the long boring, tedious, seemingly utterly fruitless wait. Years go by without even recalling for an instant that blessed, happy admonition from my first Mass. And those spawns of acedia, in the meantime, set about their nasty work. The vigilance required to keep them out, to drive them off!
Last Sunday there were a couple extra families with kids at the 10 AM Mass. A recently-arrived-to-the-parish family has generously been offering to restart coffee and donuts after mass as a way, in part, for them to meet other families. Another mom whom I had never seen before, herself hugely pregnant, and with a couple of little ones in tow, told me at the end that they had been invited to come, and that word is out that the goal for my parish is that it be the parish for big families.
For me, that the hope of fruitfulness has extended from my ordination day, through all these years, through this past crazy year and now makes an appearance in the form of families with kids wanting to come here, it’s enough to keep me powering down this path—The Path. ‘No’ to despair. ‘No’ to faint-heartedness. No matter how long or hard or seemingly fruitless. God gives the growth.
Is it just me or has Hilary been rather quiet on here and on her Art site lately? I recently re-did my account setup over at her Art site and I'm wondering if I might have accidentally broken some web URL, or something, and so stopped getting updates. Of course, if she's just chillin' out, that's totally cool, too. Just wondering if anyone else has noticed the same.
Yes, I'm sorry. I've been having a bit of a low time - physically mostly - a consequence of being 55 and having had some rather hefty chemo treatments. I'm trying to learn to manage it, but I can really do myself in if I get myself over tired or worn out. It can take a long time to recover.
No, really, Hilary. So kind, even to respond. No worries, over here. And certainly no pressure from this side of the pond to get you back to typing. I'm just glad to know I hadn't fallen into some innernet culdesac never to be heard from again. Whoever knew there could be gladness in escaping such culdesacs?
I've always been a fits and starts guy, myself when it comes to pursing projects. So there's nothing but heaps of understanding for you with where you're at.
You're right! And she did. The bees knees, I'm telling you, that Hillary. I'm doubly reassured that 1) I haven't lost my internet marbles and that 2) she's catching her breath.
Speaking of taking a minute to get back at it, a scene from The Chosen on YT comes to mind now as particularly satisfying. A friend finally convinced me to watch it, even though I'm normally rather averse to the potential cringe-factor. But here's a case where I'm glad I got over it and took his recommendation. Last night I saw the scene, which was set up very well, where Simon's mother-in-law is healed. It's one of the rather lesser miracles, lesser that is, unless you're Simon's mother-in-law. But the way she hops-to, raring to go once she's healed was well written and well performed.
I'm not saying Hilary needs to be regarded as anyone's mother-in-law! Just that I'm sure we'll all know when she's up and at 'em.
You know when the Fathers spoke about acedia with regard to monks? I really sympathised with those monks who were struggling with monastasism not because they were slothful or lazy, but the life in a desert skete was so arduous. For some of them this might be the point where they had to acknowledge that a monk's life was not for them because they actually needed people, even if they didn't realise it before. They probably came to feel that the life they had chosen was driving them mad. The heat, the solitude, the silence the monotonous round of prayers etc. However strong that we feel our faith is, we are tripped up by ourselves, by parts of ourselves that we don't realise are there till we try to walk in faith, especially if, as I have found, we try to live by the letter and thereby miss the spirit.
‘The Lord of the Rings is of course a fundamentally religious and Catholic work; unconsciously so at first, but consciously in the revision. That is why I have not put in, or have cut out, practically all references to anything like ‘religion’, to cults or practices, in the imaginary world. For the religious element is absorbed into the story and the symbolism.’ Tolkien
It really is so profound. Those words of invocation by Frodo to Eärendil, asking his intercession, as well as Galadriel’s intercession, are yet another example of the sacramentality of the world of LOTR, of grace mediated through the created world. Fundamentally Catholic indeed.
"What? You too? I thought I was the only one." This dark horror has been at the back of my mind--sometimes closer--for decades. And I too am stuck. Thank you for this bit of real hope. Off to find Evagrius.
That, dear was much needed and one of the most useful things you’ve ever written.
But Higgins you say that about everything I write.
Hmm...pretty much, but the key word this time is "useful," lol.
As for Tolkien, I can swivel around from where I'm sitting and can see his books on the shelf behind me. Every time you mention him, I'm tempted to open them back up, but I don't. I don't because every time I ever have, and it doesn't matter which work it is, I fall in and can't climb out until I've read every last page all over again. He's a disease that only needs a bare scratch and you're re-infected.
Wow. That absolutely hit the bull's-eye.
Fighting vainly the old ennui, on a Friday evening, while on-call at the hospital, how better to pass the time than to untangle an article from the Summa? Below is my regurgitation of Thomas’s answer to the question whether sloth is a sin. He has more to say on sloth/acedia which, depending on how this is received, I may post as a comment later, but this is where I first went after reading Hilary’s post. So, with apologies to the Angelic Doctor, to Cole Porter, and with your most gracious indulgences, kind reader, I’m just going to put this here:
Thomas first goes to Saint John Damascene for the definition of sloth. Damascene calls it “an oppressive sorrow, which so weighs upon man's mind, that he wants to do nothing.”
Sloth implies a certain weariness, an abhorrence of work, a sluggishness of the mind and the neglect even to begin the smallest good thing.
Let’s talk about this sorrow, since it’s a sin.
This sorrow is always evil. It’s evil purely and simply, and it’s evil also in what follows in its wake.
It’s evil purely and simply when it causes us to sorrow for a thing which is, in reality a good thing, but only appears evil. Spiritual goods are real goods. We don’t grieve for them, we’re grateful for them.
We’re supposed to grieve over things which are really evil. But even when we do this, sorrow can still produce an evil effect. This is when our grief so oppresses us that it draws us away entirely from good deeds. Saint Paul was afraid the Corinthians who had just repented might do this, so he warned them against being “swallowed up with overmuch sorrow.”
Acedia, then, or sloth, denotes sorrow for a spiritual good and is evil on two counts: both, in itself and in its effect. As an evil movement of the appetite, it is a sin.
This sorrow is different from a mere passion or emotion. Passions are not sinful in themselves. But they can be blameworthy insofar as they are applied to something evil. And yet, they can also be praiseworthy, insofar as they are applied to something good. So sorrow, in itself, calls neither for praise nor for blame while a moderate sorrow for evil calls for praise. But sorrow for good, or an immoderate sorrow for evil, calls for blame. It is in this sense that sloth is said to be a sin. Our appetites are supposed to move us well. When we let them move us poorly, on purpose, they’re sins.
Humility is in a man when he does not think too much of himself, he observes, after all, his own faults. But if he suddenly proceeds to contemn the good things he has received from God, this, instead of being a display of his humility, shows him to be ungrateful. When we think of the goods of others, we should think highly of them. And yet, we should also think of them in such a way as not to disparage those goods that we ourselves have received. For if we disparage the goods we have received they would then be for us an occasion rather for sorrow than for joy.
We should always shun sin. But the assaults of different sins are overcome differently. Some are overcome by flight. This is especially the case when the continued thought of the sin increases the incentive to sin, as in lust. This is why the Apostle says, “Fly fornication.” The assaults of some sins are overcome by resistance, as when perseverance in the thought diminishes the incentive to sin. This incentive trivializes what we should really consider to be something greater. Which is why the more we think about spiritual goods, the more pleasing they become to us, thus extinguishing sloth.
And yes, excessive sorrow can eat you. Many years ago a close friend died, and I fell headlong into a black pit of sorrow it took me half a year to climb out of again.
I knew you were going to say that [but now I suddenly see you didn't!!!]. Thomas, I hazard, would be the first to agree with you about kowtowing to the scholastics when there are perfectly good and far more ancient fathers to learn from. For me he's a portal to the fathers. Who else throws together a little mash-up of Cassian, Isidore and Gregory just in order to get his 'acedia' sorted out.
I'm sufficiently encouraged. Expect more from the Duccio of Theoligians (and I'll take partial credit for that little moniker).
In brief, the un-mashup:
Sloth’s Daughters for Gregory:
Despair
faint-heartedness
sluggishness about the commandments
spite
malice
wandering after unlawful things
Sorrow’s Daughters for Isidore and Cassian:
bitterness
Idleness
drowsiness
uneasiness of the mind
curiosity
loquacity
restlessness of the body
instability
There is a technique I use, that may be of help for you when you are attacked. A priest friend I knew taught it to me. He said that if there are times when the attack on your will hits you so bad that you are struggling even to remember the rote prayers you learned as a child:
Clench your teeth together gently, keep your lips closed gently, and keep your tongue absolutely still.
Then carefully, without moving your mouth or your lips in sympathetic imitation of speaking, say the name Jesus in your mind.
Really make an effort to enunciate every syllable of His Name mentally. Do it over and over, as many times as you can.
It is a good way to exercise the will, and saying His name without moving any part of your mouth or tongue is not easy to do.
(Also, His Name itself has a subtle, hidden Power -- just like the Vial of Galadriel, His Name is a Word that is a light in the darkened mind ... when all other lights go out.)
Namárië.
Or, you could simply recite the Jesus prayer, vocally at first, becoming deeply internal by the end.
No. Beautiful as it is, recitation of the Jesus prayer is not going to have the same intention, because it is not the correct form , and the purpose of it is for a different matter. Matter, form and intention are very important. Especially when you are in a situation where you are under some form of physical, mental or spiritual attack. That is why the exercise is done only one way, and exactly that way. Try it yourself and you will find it is not so easy to do.
But shouldn't your faith be in the name rather than a technique?
This manner of prayer, the short, brief, aspirational, prayer is nearly infinite in variety. The old masters referred to it as ejaculatory prayer, but I haven't seen that term used a whole lot recently in this regard. Except in the Manual for Indulgences which was revised in 1999 where they're referred to as aspirational prayers. This is off the top of my head, so forgive me, but I believe the Church grants a partial indulgence to the recitation of these prayers. In describing these aspirations it gives the most favorable of interpretations and even provides a list of 'commonly used' aspirations, most of which I have never heard that way.
My point, here, I guess, is that the technique is itself very useful precisely because it is so broadly applicable. The content of the prayer, however, will indeed vary greatly depending on the circumstance and the intention. In some instances, "Jesus" can certainly be an expression of the Act of Faith. Other times, of Hope or of Love, or of Contrition, or of Adoration, or of "please, just help me get through this...", etc. In all these cases, I suppose, the important thing is that you're turning that briefest of moments into an occasion of prayer. And once we start doing that, acedia is dead in the water.
I had a miniature, but certain breakthrough at the parish this past weekend, sufficiently motivating for me to redouble my efforts both to continue my approach to my work in the parish as well as to strengthen the spiritual bulwarks of the parish against acedia, especially two of its daughters “despair” and “faint-heartedness.” Those latter two happen to be old nemeses of mine.
One pithy description of my pastoral plan, as outlined by the admonition at the end of the homily at my first mass, preached by the dear priest, now since gone to God, a spiritual director of mine and father of my soul is, in ten words or less: “Fall in love; Get Married; Have a bunch of kids.” When he arrived at that moment in the homily, which I could see coming, I knew it would catch by surprise those in the congregation unaccustomed to his style. Sure enough, when he said it, there were several looks of confusion and a few of consternation. But they were the minority. His point, which I had heard him say before and am so glad now to have eternally fused to the earliest moments of my priestly ministry is this: spiritual fatherhood, to which I have the privilege of being called must be rooted in the work of love, of fidelity, and of life.
I’ve been return with greater frequency to that encouragement. I’m at year five, in the parish, fifteen since ordination. The evidence of the fruitfulness can be long in coming. The “have a bunch of kids” part, I’m just now learning, does happen, with God’s help, but frequently, as in my case, only first after a long, long time. The young, upstart, 'get-after-‘em' part of me finds it so hard to abide that duration of time. I’ll often figure, wrongly, arrogantly, vainly, that my brilliance, or my dazzling ability to explain things, or my wit, or winsomeness will be able to hasten the fruitfulness of my apostolic work. Meanwhile, God, who brings the fruitfulness, dashes all this vanity on the rock of protracting the eventual revelation of any fruitfulness just long enough to purify my heart of the stupidity of thinking that I’m the one who’s so special.
Despair and Faint-heartedness, however, come around during the long boring, tedious, seemingly utterly fruitless wait. Years go by without even recalling for an instant that blessed, happy admonition from my first Mass. And those spawns of acedia, in the meantime, set about their nasty work. The vigilance required to keep them out, to drive them off!
Last Sunday there were a couple extra families with kids at the 10 AM Mass. A recently-arrived-to-the-parish family has generously been offering to restart coffee and donuts after mass as a way, in part, for them to meet other families. Another mom whom I had never seen before, herself hugely pregnant, and with a couple of little ones in tow, told me at the end that they had been invited to come, and that word is out that the goal for my parish is that it be the parish for big families.
For me, that the hope of fruitfulness has extended from my ordination day, through all these years, through this past crazy year and now makes an appearance in the form of families with kids wanting to come here, it’s enough to keep me powering down this path—The Path. ‘No’ to despair. ‘No’ to faint-heartedness. No matter how long or hard or seemingly fruitless. God gives the growth.
Is it just me or has Hilary been rather quiet on here and on her Art site lately? I recently re-did my account setup over at her Art site and I'm wondering if I might have accidentally broken some web URL, or something, and so stopped getting updates. Of course, if she's just chillin' out, that's totally cool, too. Just wondering if anyone else has noticed the same.
Best.
Yes, I'm sorry. I've been having a bit of a low time - physically mostly - a consequence of being 55 and having had some rather hefty chemo treatments. I'm trying to learn to manage it, but I can really do myself in if I get myself over tired or worn out. It can take a long time to recover.
It's alive!
No, really, Hilary. So kind, even to respond. No worries, over here. And certainly no pressure from this side of the pond to get you back to typing. I'm just glad to know I hadn't fallen into some innernet culdesac never to be heard from again. Whoever knew there could be gladness in escaping such culdesacs?
I've always been a fits and starts guy, myself when it comes to pursing projects. So there's nothing but heaps of understanding for you with where you're at.
Warmly,
Yes, if you message her she will explain.
You're right! And she did. The bees knees, I'm telling you, that Hillary. I'm doubly reassured that 1) I haven't lost my internet marbles and that 2) she's catching her breath.
Speaking of taking a minute to get back at it, a scene from The Chosen on YT comes to mind now as particularly satisfying. A friend finally convinced me to watch it, even though I'm normally rather averse to the potential cringe-factor. But here's a case where I'm glad I got over it and took his recommendation. Last night I saw the scene, which was set up very well, where Simon's mother-in-law is healed. It's one of the rather lesser miracles, lesser that is, unless you're Simon's mother-in-law. But the way she hops-to, raring to go once she's healed was well written and well performed.
I'm not saying Hilary needs to be regarded as anyone's mother-in-law! Just that I'm sure we'll all know when she's up and at 'em.