by Joseph Rhea
The study of historic Christianity can yield not only theological and liturgical treasures, but also insight into faithful life in Christ. The subject of this article is a fruit of Christian reflection on a form of sin called acedia that, even though we don’t have an exact English translation for it, is as much of a modern problem as an ancient one. Ancient Christian spiritual writings offer us both means to discern this sin in ourselves and suggestions on how to fight it.
Acedia in the Desert Fathers, Aquinas, Dante, and Chaucer
The sin translated as sloth suggests outward laziness, like a toddler supine in an un-cleaned room or a man forming a slow chemical bond with his couch. But the original term, acedia (pronounced uh-SEE-dee-a, from ἀκηδία, “lack of care”) is both more insidious and more dangerous. Acedia is an inner restlessness and discontentment with conditions that should occasion gratitude or love.
The fourth-century Desert Father Evagrius, the first person we know of to define the sin, wrote:
[Acedia, which Evagrius personifies as a demon] makes it appear that the sun moves slowly or not at all, and that the day seems to be fifty hours long. Then he compels the monk to look constantly toward the windows, to jump out of the cell, to watch the sun to see how far it is from the ninth hour, to look this way and that … And further he instills in him a dislike for the place and for his state of life itself, for manual labor, and also the idea that love has disappeared from among the brothers and there is no one to console him.
Acedia begins with an inward discontentment: a deep dissatisfaction with life. In Evagrius’s description, the monk under acedia hates his duties, daydreams of different responsibilities, and despises his community. Thomas Aquinas called it “sorrow in the Divine good about which charity rejoices” (Summa II.II Q. 35). Dante had his “accidiosi” define themselves thus:
We were sad
in the sweet air that’s gladdened by the sun,
carrying within the dark smoke of sloth [accidio] (from Inferno Canto VII)
Acedia differs from healthy sorrow in that, as Aquinas wrote, sorrow in “good about which charity rejoices” – that it grieves over things that should occasion gratitude or love. The Parson in the Canterbury Tales says, “Envy and ire make bitterness in heart, which bitterness is mother of acedia, and takes from [a person] the love of all goodness.”
In summary, acedia:
Starts with a restless ingratitude toward the good things in my life
Makes me resent or despair of my life’s goods, both its joys and its responsibilities
Leads me to disengage from my actual life, either through sluggishness or through worthless activity
A Thoroughly Modern Malady
While the term “acedia” has been lost in translation from modern vocabulary, the sin itself appears widely in our experience. For example:
A teenage boy deals with struggles in school by spending more and more time playing video games, which makes his grades even worse
A wife finds herself increasingly dissatisfied with her home and marriage the more time she’s on Instagram or Pinterest, but doesn’t stop using the apps
A pastor spends an hour a day scrolling through Twitter, but never prays at work
Each of these shows the symptoms of acedia: ingratitude with God-given goods. Resentment and despair. Disengagement from reality. Acedia makes our real life – the life given to us, our family and church and neighbors and work – seem worthless or, as Evagrius’s quote suggests, even evil. Modern problems as diverse as growing infidelity and divorce, “failure to launch,” “deaths of despair,” and even radicalization to violent ideologies can grow from this root.
I used screen-mediated examples to describe modern acedia, not because these things cause acedia, but because they foster it. Social media and ubiquitous screens have exploited and exacerbated acedia, but the fact that it was known in medieval monastic communities shows that social media do not cause it. It is a human problem.
A Sin of Omission
One issue a thoughtful Baptist should raise against this definition is, how is the definition of this sin grounded in Scripture? Lust, wrath, pride, and envy are explicitly named and condemned in the Bible; acedia is not.
However, consider the following passages:
Then they despised the pleasant land,
having no faith in his promise.
They murmured in their tents,
and did not obey the voice of the Lord. (Psalm 106:24-25)
Despite being in the “pleasant land” of Canaan, the Israelites despised it and “murmured” in their tents against the goodness of God. That small murmur was the seed of the idolatry and rebellion that barred the Hebrews from the Promised Land for 40 years! This is the seed of acedia.
For even when we were with you, we would give you this command: If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. (2 Thessalonians 3:10-12)
Paul’s flat warning against laziness and being “busybodies” – gossips, people who do fake “work” instead of real work – is against one fruit of acedia. Acedia draws us away from real good in the real world.
Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. (Romans 12:10-13)
Paul contrasts loving, serving, and rejoicing with being “slothful in zeal.” Acedia is the ultimate “sin of omission,” preventing us from loving, honoring, serving, and worshipping with zeal. The person consumed with ingratitude or resentment will not be loving, prayerful, or patient.
Dealing with Acedia
In a Table Audio podcast episode with Kathleen Norris, author of a book on acedia, Evan Rosa discusses several ancient and medieval recommendations for fighting the sin. Summarizing and synthesizing them, we see:
1. Lament
From Rosa:
The desert mother Amma Syncletica suggests weeping. There’s nothing sentimental about this though—it’s just about grief. Acedia threatens to take away your ability to grieve about things that matter: your own actions and character, the suffering and weakness of your neighbors. She recommends this kind of grieving as a means to retain your sense of purpose in spiritual formation.
Acedia replaces our ability to even grieve properly with a vague dullness. Cultivating true grief, heartfelt grief, through the practice of lament re-engages us with the world. There are “things that matter” that merit sadness, like our own sin or the needs of others; lamenting them is a biblical, purposeful response that reconnects us to God and to potential opportunities to love. Praying psalms of lament can help us replace the useless grief of acedia with true feeling.
2. Work Heartily
Rosa notes in the podcast, “Evagrius suggests to monks battling acedia that they simply endure. Endurance to perform one’s tasks, menial though they might seem, gives you a pattern for living.” Whatever we are given to do, whomever we are given to love, taking concrete action to engage those things can stir our hearts to greater love and gratitude. Working prayerfully and worshipfully can help us see God in and through our work.
3. Worship Faithfully
Thomas Aquinas contrasted the idleness of acedia with the true rest of Sabbath: the worship of God. In Sabbath rest, we celebrate God for his magnificent glory, thank him for his provision, and rejoice in the hope he gives us in Christ. Worship nurtures gratitude, joy, and love for God and for others. If we find ourselves struggling with acedia, carving out time to worship, thank, and hope in God can dispel the “dark smoke” and energize us to carry on in hope.
