Hello Hilary, thanks for gathering all this material and trying to make sense of languishing. I personally find the understanding of acedia most useful when it concerns spiritual life. Of course, acedia in spiritual life can affect other areas and activities (we're integrated as you point out), but I'm afraid that when we value productivity so much we end up perpetuating the very dynamic we're attempting to change. There are people who are very 'productive' by modern standards and get everything done, yet struggle with a weak will to pray and cultivate a spiritual life. In fact, there are people who do things and busy themselves precisely to avoid the 'labor' of prayer and use their productivity as an excuse to not cultivate an interior life: this is acedia, and I would say it's the gravest for the soul (at least in my experience). Cassian's restless/fidgety monk in his cell, in Garrigou-Lagrange the "disgust" or "negligence" for spiritual things...there are other examples in the literature of acedia. Often, it's being too productive, being a busy Martha that can lead to and reinforce slowness or lack of will in spirituality. Of course, I agree we have to cultivate moral agency and fight the passivity of distraction, consumption, watching, etc. Looking forward to the next post.
I appreciate your emphasizing the distinction of acedia as the "spiritual sloth" the ancient fathers warned of, and how so much modern material "productivity" is done almost in direct opposition to spiritual productivity, and is thus a form of acedia. For in my experience, the very familiar languishing outlined here finds its source in that sense of "pointlessness" the author describes in part 3 (I come here with the benefit of knowledge of what came next ;) ). I daily struggle with the sense that I'm merely "making some money", but not really "living" and fruitfully contributing to a better (Catholic) society; I'm just making money to spend money to eat and shelter my family, and on and on it goes.
Now what *really* has given me a sense of purpose is regular participation in the Latin Mass.
And while I may still be trapped in the modern dystopian materialistic "rat race" out of sheer necessity, at least now I can internally grasp the potential (and necessary) harmony between my worldly labor and my true purpose in life (saving my soul), striving to bring to the seeming pointlessness of modern life the zeal and purpose I find at Mass. The N.O. never did this for me, go figure...
I am happy and not surprised to hear the Latin Mass has given you a sense of purpose. I’m so thankful for being able to attend it too. I think the difficulty is often how to bring the zeal and purpose to the otherwise pointless things we do outside the mass, as you say. The post-industrial society we live in was unfortunately built without the sense of the full person and much less without the belief in God and the supernatural. The functions and roles we can find in it are often very abstract and not necessarily about people, but about the structure itself. There are still many people doing things that demand interaction with the human as a full person, but that’s not the case for many of us. I’m glad we are talking about these problems here.
κηδεία is "care," especially the love shown: 1) for our own deceased; 2) for those covenented to us.
Unpacking it has been a helpful remedy for me against its onslaught.
I'll fill you in some more later on this, because I really love it, but I've seen acedia's maleficence a lot lately as a 'killjoy'. Where working for someone whom you love is a joy where time flies, acedia finds the way to sabotage that flow.
Mercy is charity at work. And joy is charity’s full flowering. Acedia frustrates both how charity operates as well as its entire purpose. When it shows up, say, in the confessional, one remedy I typically prescribe is an act of charity. It doesn’t matter how small. I try to recall for folks that “pardoning offenses,” “bearing wrongs patiently,” or even simply praying for someone can do the trick. I remember the rector of the seminary—I think it was him—teaching us a basic principle of the spiritual life that “someone cannot do well and ill at the same time.” I try to focus folks fighting acedia on doing little things well, that they can manage. Then go from there.
Hello Hilary, thanks for gathering all this material and trying to make sense of languishing. I personally find the understanding of acedia most useful when it concerns spiritual life. Of course, acedia in spiritual life can affect other areas and activities (we're integrated as you point out), but I'm afraid that when we value productivity so much we end up perpetuating the very dynamic we're attempting to change. There are people who are very 'productive' by modern standards and get everything done, yet struggle with a weak will to pray and cultivate a spiritual life. In fact, there are people who do things and busy themselves precisely to avoid the 'labor' of prayer and use their productivity as an excuse to not cultivate an interior life: this is acedia, and I would say it's the gravest for the soul (at least in my experience). Cassian's restless/fidgety monk in his cell, in Garrigou-Lagrange the "disgust" or "negligence" for spiritual things...there are other examples in the literature of acedia. Often, it's being too productive, being a busy Martha that can lead to and reinforce slowness or lack of will in spirituality. Of course, I agree we have to cultivate moral agency and fight the passivity of distraction, consumption, watching, etc. Looking forward to the next post.
I appreciate your emphasizing the distinction of acedia as the "spiritual sloth" the ancient fathers warned of, and how so much modern material "productivity" is done almost in direct opposition to spiritual productivity, and is thus a form of acedia. For in my experience, the very familiar languishing outlined here finds its source in that sense of "pointlessness" the author describes in part 3 (I come here with the benefit of knowledge of what came next ;) ). I daily struggle with the sense that I'm merely "making some money", but not really "living" and fruitfully contributing to a better (Catholic) society; I'm just making money to spend money to eat and shelter my family, and on and on it goes.
Now what *really* has given me a sense of purpose is regular participation in the Latin Mass.
And while I may still be trapped in the modern dystopian materialistic "rat race" out of sheer necessity, at least now I can internally grasp the potential (and necessary) harmony between my worldly labor and my true purpose in life (saving my soul), striving to bring to the seeming pointlessness of modern life the zeal and purpose I find at Mass. The N.O. never did this for me, go figure...
I am happy and not surprised to hear the Latin Mass has given you a sense of purpose. I’m so thankful for being able to attend it too. I think the difficulty is often how to bring the zeal and purpose to the otherwise pointless things we do outside the mass, as you say. The post-industrial society we live in was unfortunately built without the sense of the full person and much less without the belief in God and the supernatural. The functions and roles we can find in it are often very abstract and not necessarily about people, but about the structure itself. There are still many people doing things that demand interaction with the human as a full person, but that’s not the case for many of us. I’m glad we are talking about these problems here.
Armchair etymologist, here.
Acedia's alpha privative I find very telling.
κηδεία is "care," especially the love shown: 1) for our own deceased; 2) for those covenented to us.
Unpacking it has been a helpful remedy for me against its onslaught.
I'll fill you in some more later on this, because I really love it, but I've seen acedia's maleficence a lot lately as a 'killjoy'. Where working for someone whom you love is a joy where time flies, acedia finds the way to sabotage that flow.
Mercy is charity at work. And joy is charity’s full flowering. Acedia frustrates both how charity operates as well as its entire purpose. When it shows up, say, in the confessional, one remedy I typically prescribe is an act of charity. It doesn’t matter how small. I try to recall for folks that “pardoning offenses,” “bearing wrongs patiently,” or even simply praying for someone can do the trick. I remember the rector of the seminary—I think it was him—teaching us a basic principle of the spiritual life that “someone cannot do well and ill at the same time.” I try to focus folks fighting acedia on doing little things well, that they can manage. Then go from there.
We will be covering this under the heading of "negotiating" in the next lesson. Don't get ahead of the class, please.