Lake in summer at Benedictine monastery in Rock Island, IL

Acedia: How to overcome spiritual fatigue

If you’ve ever had The Blahs – and who hasn’t? – you’ve had a brush with

the Noonday Devil (Psalm 91). Sneaking about at mid-day or mid-life to

whisper words of discouragement to you, this devil will begin to make

you feel that the day is interminably long, your activities indescribably

boring, and your hope for the future folly. Should you entertain these

negative thoughts, you may grow restless and dull, wishing for nothing

so much as the day to be done. Should you allow the thoughts to flourish

over time, you may end up in the grips of acedia.

Defined variously as spiritual sloth, lethargy and indifference, acedia may

best be characterized by its symptoms: boredom, torpor, listlessness, restlessness.

Ultimately it becomes, as Thomas Merton writes, a weariness of

life itself.

“Acedia is aroused from within, not from without,” Sr. Susan Hutchens

says. “You might recognize a growing boredom and apathy that leads to

a powerful desire for distraction, say a two-hour break at Starbucks or 15

games of Solitaire. Sometimes those activities are used to clear your head,

but sometimes they really are the noonday devil.”

Monastics should know. The desert fathers and mothers warned of the

condition – particularly as it besets monks - hundreds of years ago. The

fourth-century monk Evagrius of Pontus said that of all the great vices,

acedia “causes the most serious trouble of all.” The fifth-century monk

John Cassian described acedia as one of the eight principal faults which

attack us; as “an anxiety or weariness of heart.” Other spiritual masters,

from St. Benedict to St. Thomas Aquinas, write of the problem of sloth

(often used as synonym for acedia).

“The Noonday Devil can distract you from your original intent to serve

God and others through your monastic vocation,” Sr. Susan says. “It tells

you, This is piddly. There has to be something better out there. Boredom

and anxiety set in, leading to disgust and discouragement. Some people

might sleep more, others might find any excuse to go out.”

By the time you are firmly within its clutches, the Noonday Devil will not

only have coerced you to devalue your commitment – whether to a vocation,

a job or a responsibility – it will have ensured your lack of caring

about it.

Winding the Clock

The spiritual masters agree, the cure for acedia is work.

“John Cassian advised his monks about what to do when plagued with

thought of acedia,” writes Mary Margaret Funk, OSB, in Thoughts Matter.

“If we listen carefully there is wisdom in his words for us. He told them to

rededicate themselves to work in every sense. Work with your hands and

be present to the work, he said, rather than dissolving into memories or

thinking about desires and dreams.”

For a monastic, work also means going to community prayers in a routine

that is repeated day in and day out. That routine, seen as

mind-numbing by one afflicted with acedia, is actually

redemptive.

“Could we regard repetition as a saving grace…?” writes

Kathleen Norris in Acedia and Me. “Browning

ground turkey while your children are arguing in

the kitchen, you may not feel connected to this great

mystery, but you are. … Our greatest spiritual blessings

are likely to reveal themselves not in exotic

settings but in everyday tasks and trials.”

Thus, to combat acedia, we must work at our jobs

faithfully, and let go of negative thoughts.

“Someone once said, You have to wind the clock every

day or it will wind down,” Sr. Susan says. “Our

work – our prayers – is how we wind the clock. We

aren’t here for just ourselves. Our life is not just me

and God on my pathway to heaven. Our life is about

who and what we have committed ourselves to. We

have to recommit to this life every day, not to the

life we don’t have. Our prayers help us wind the

clock, help us recommit.”

And as we recommit, we can celebrate as Ronald

Rolheiser’s child of the kingdom who “turns up her

music, picks up her wineglass and her friends, her tools and

her duties, her hopes and her prayers, and continues, in joy,

despite all that's wrong, the dance of the resurrection.”

 

 

 

 

 

   

Lake on grounds of Benedictine St. Mary Monastery, Rock Island, Ill

Walking Through a Field of Grief


Jesus said, “Make your home in me,” (John 15:4) and we pray in joy and hope to be able to do that, both here and in the afterlife. But no matter how much we might believe our loved ones have gone to Jesus when they die, their deaths remain crushing experiences for us. We must learn to live without them, to not listen for their footsteps in the hall, to not set an extra place at the table.

When Sr. Sheila McGrath’s brother died unexpectedly several years ago, the family was devastated. Every holiday felt empty, every season brought the searing reminder that he was gone. Although they decided to go forward with plans for a reunion in July, they were anxious about it. How would it feel with everyone there but him?

Sr. Sheila, a former hospital chaplain, suggested they hold a small service for him to recognize and express their feelings, and ask God for the strength they needed to continue to live their lives without him.

“We lighted two red, two white and two blue candles, because it was the Fourth of July,” Sr. Sheila remembers. “We each took a turn reciting a lovely prayer. Then we shared stories about him. It was very meaningful to all of us.”

The reunion was a happy and more carefree experience, Sr. Sheila says, because family members shared their feelings and prayers out loud. They encountered their grief. “We all need to work through our grief,” she says. “It takes time. The first year – the holidays, the seasons, the birthdays – every time they happen, they prick the soul. You truly have to go through the grief, though. You can’t go around it.”

Imagine standing in front of a field full of burrs, Sr. Sheila suggests. It is your grief, and the only way to the other side is straight through it.

“Some people refuse to enter it,” she says. “They’re the ones who keep busy, and keep saying, ‘I’m fine.’ Their grief is eating them up inside, but their busyness keeps them distracted. Another group steps into the field but gets stuck. They get jabbed over and over by the burrs and stay right where they are. The third group keeps putting one foot in front of the other, walking through the field, through the burrs. They reach the other side with resolution and peace.”

Friends and family can help with the grieving process, but don’t always understand that people need to express the same feelings over and over for a while after losing a loved one. Sr. Sheila says support groups can help.

“Support groups allow you to really express yourself, because the members have had similar experiences,” she says. “They don’t tell you not to feel a particular way, or offer platitudes like, Well, at least he’s gone to a better place.”

Getting involved with a support group often is best done several months after your loved one’s death, Sr. Sheila says, after friends and family have returned to their lives and perhaps expect you to, too.

However you walk through the field though, the main thing is to keep moving. Let life go on; welcome it. “Make some quiet time for yourself during the day,” she says. “Sit on a bench outside the office for a moment. Listen to a bird sing. Watch the clouds. Pray: God be with me as I face today’s challenges and joys and whatever comes my way. Try to stay open to how God speaks to you and comforts you.”

Benedictine Sister Sheila McGrath, OSB

The Timeless Heart and Soul of the Psalms

Benedictine Sisters Reflect on Meaning

Two-part series on the Eucharist:

Part 1: Benedictine Sisters reflect on the meaning of the Mass

Part 2: Benedictine Sisters reflect on the Lord's Prayer

Mother Teresa stories:

The Doubts of a Saint

The (Bumpy) Road to Sainthood

Mysticism: Why it Matters



 

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