Languishe no more; but pluck up thine herte
Sing and rejoice and give thanks
Banishing the Demon Acedia: Fight back; the demon wants to hurt you
What have I learned in 2021? Maybe more than anything else that we are striving with Powers and Principalities, and that we can win. The monsters want you to despair, to quit, to retreat into resentment or fear, to give in and withdraw into yourself and stop reaching upward to God in prayer and thanksgiving. You can win that fight easily just by not doing those things.
And doesn’t that really just parallel perfectly what the world wants you to do now? Hide in your house. Work or do your schooling from a “safe distance” - meaning at home on a screen. Don’t talk to your neighbours (seriously, an Australian politician came right out and told people they weren’t allowed to talk to each other.) It seems that the Demon and the World are in closer collusion and agreement in these last two years. Don’t listen to them.
Things I’ve learned:
1. The fear is a lie. You don’t have to believe it.
I keep coming back in my mind to my friend Fr. Miroslav, a priest from Soviet Slovakia who was ordained secretly and for years said Mass and heard confessions and taught catechism at night in people’s houses. They would hang blankets over the windows so the neighbours wouldn’t turn them in to the secret police. People would come through the back doors under cover of darkness, wearing dark coats, one or two at a time.
One night his superior (he is a Redemptorist) called him at two in the morning and told him to be ready in 15 minutes. He had kept a suitcase packed and under the bed. He said good by to his mum and was whisked out of the country in two hours, barely ahead of the Secret Police - who would certainly not have bothered with the troublesome paperwork of arresting and charging him.
I got to know him in Toronto many years after this, and asked him once whether he had been frightened. “Oh no, not at all. It was fun. Like being in a spy movie.” He said that it’s much worse to be frightened into inaction, to be cowed into hiding under the bed. Doing something, however small, to fight back just makes fear vanish.
2. You can just decide not to be miserable
The Demon and the World want you inside, staring at the screen. Don’ t do that.
Talk and go out. Sing songs out loud on the bus (if they let you take one) or on the street if not. Smile at every person you pass on the road. I’ve been trying a new thing since moving here. I smile and say “Buon anno” or “Buon Natale” or at least “‘Sera” to every person I pass on the road on my walks. And I try to make it a real smile, not pro-forma. Look them in the eyes, and try to make a friend of them with a single look.
And no, I don’t wear a mask, at least outdoors. It’s a new rule from the government, in a nation that has had in the last 2 years no fewer than 36 such “decree laws” from their unelected “leaders,” that everyone sensible knows are stupid and pointless and unconstitutional. I don’t know what they’re doing elsewhere, but here I think only a few people do it. In theory you can be fined or even arrested for refusing, but it seems it’s rare in practice, mostly in cities where no one is very sane. (Italian governments have never concerned themselves much with the legal principle that an unenforceable law is no law).
A policeman told me once to put one on, so I obeyed. Then he went away and I took it off again. If he came back (I was waiting in the piazza with a cart full of shopping for my ride) I would smile and put it on again. I’m happy to play that game all day. (Hint: so is everyone else.) It’s all nonsense. Everyone knows it’s nonsense. Including the policeman. You can smile at him too. Couldn’t hurt.
3. Go outside and play, do some work. For the love of Mike, step away from the screen
I know what the great Fathers and desert dwellers say defeats the Demon Acedia; work. Manual labour. Seems mad doesn’t it? But try it, and see. Even a little bit of work can dispel the gloom. And you don’t have to build a house or turn over the vegetable beds. Just do the dishes in the sink. Sweep the carpet. You’ll be amazed.
A big thing in traditional English culture is “keeping busy”. I was told when I was a child if I complained of being bored or sad or listless, “There’s plenty of things to do.” My grandma was especially good at this; she’d give me a job that was my very own. Tidy the linen closet. Dust-mop the living room floor. Rake the leaves. And she’d do her jobs with me to keep me from being lonely. It always worked. It was never “a chore” - it was presented as an opportunity for me to participate in the life of the household, to be a part of things, something every child loves - to be doing what the grownups are doing.
I think if we’re bored, listless, depressed and frightened it’s much more by being physically immobile, staring at the screen, than by anything that is actually happening in the world (or that we’re told is happening). In fact, those Old Fathers used to recommend some very prosaic cures for listlessness, despondency and acedia, things that might surprise you. Be disciplined about getting to bed on time every day and getting up at the same time. Do some physical work to let your body know everything’s still working OK. Get up and move about. Let your brain relax its grip.
They knew that we are integrated beings, that the spiritual and mental and emotional and physical are all joined up together. Your body is as responsible as your mind for your state, something doctors are just starting to realise now after we’ve all been sitting indoors fretting for two years. Something something dopamine something…
One of the reasons I’m happy to be here in Narni, and in a flat on the very top of the mountain, is that nearly everywhere from my front door is downhill. Which is fun for taking the super-fast 90-second thrill of a bike ride down to the piazza and the shops, but means I have no choice but to get a bunch of exercise going home again. The government has locked me out of public transport, so it’s shanks mare for a while, and that means some pretty solid physical exercise very regularly.
4. Why Sing? Because everything isn’t actually horrible and it’s still Christmas.
But I’m going to add to the wisdom of the greats, my own two cents: sing. If you pray the Office, don’t recite it. Sing it. Chant it. Even if you can’t manage the intricacies of Gregorian, it doesn’t matter. Just sing it all on one note - “recto tono” - as the solitary monks do.
If you don’t pray the Office, sing songs you know. Sing the Beatles if that’s all you know. Sing the same verse of Jingle Bells over and over if it’s all you can remember of it.
It’s Christmastide until February 2nd. Sing. Especially if The World thinks Christmas is over and is having the January let-down. Sing, dammit!
Why sing? Because of this. Because we were heirs to endless woes, but are freed by the Blood of the Lamb. Because the Lord did interpose and redeem’d us by His Son. Because the blest Redeemer did appear in the darkest hour of the year. He did live and preach and many thousands did He teach. Because for us His life He gave.
Verbum caro factum est.
This is the truth sent from above
The truth of God, the God of love
Therefore don't turn me from your door
But hearken all both rich and poor.
Thus we were heirs to endless woes
Till God the Lord did interpose
And so a promise soon did run
That he would redeem us by his son.
And at that season of the year
Our blest redeemer did appear
And here did live and here did preach
And many thousands he did teach.
Thus he in love to us behaved
To show us how we must be saved
And if you want to know the way
Be pleased to hear what he did say.
(Chorus) Sing! Sing all earth!
Sing! Sing all earth! Eternal praises sing,
To our Redeemer,
To our Redeemer and our heavenly King!
Shepherds arise, be not afraid;
With hasty steps repair
To David's city: see the maid
With her blest Infant there.
For us the saviour came on earth,
For us his life he gave,
To save us from eternal death,
And raise us from the grave.
To Jesus Christ, our glorious King,
Be endless praises given.
Let all on earth his mercies sing,
Who made our peace in heaven!
Glad to see another post, and that you're doing well in the new town! I think this is something we all needed to hear now - thank you for the encouragement.
Yes! Thank you, Miss White.