In which our hero develops his theme

Acedia (or sloth) is numbered among the seven (or eight) Deadly Sins. There really are eight, but one (pride) is considered the root of them all. Those interested the history of their development should read Evagrius of Pontus, Cassian, Gregory the Great, & Thomas Aquinas. I also recommend Glittering Vices by Rebecca Konydyk DeYoung, associate philosopher of philosophy at Calvin College.

Far from being a minor vice--after all, if it was the original sin, we'd still be in Paradise--acedia is the resistance to God's love. It is this inner quality that exhausts its victim and makes them appear lazy. In actuality, like the clinically depressed, she spends so much time and energy in this process (deliberately so, because they'd rather fight than switch) that there is none for action. The true vice is this resistance. Habitués of Sloth can appear to be very busy, but this is a "false busyness". He is frantically running away from God.

To quote Evagrius, the demon of acedia affects the monk about 10 AM and besieges his soul until 2 PM. The demon makes the sun appear to crawl across the sky. Those four hours take forever to pass. The monk is restless, looking outside to see if it is 3 PM yet--quitting time. He develops a dislike for his cell and for his companions. Any call center employee can relate.

"He leads him on to a desire for other places where he can easily find the wherewithal to meet his needs [and pursue a trade elsewhere. After all, pleasing the Lord is not a question of locality.]"--Praktikos

Quoting DeYoung, the Greek word (a-kedeia) means "lack of care". (I'm not sure whether care here means attention or apathy. If I cared enough to pay attention, I'd google.) A grave spiritual malady, it manifests as dejection or a sense of oppressiveness. The vice is serious, powerful and threatens one's commitment to religious identity and vocation. One's entire commitment to life in God is at stake. It is that deadly.

In Steven Pressfield's the War of Art, Resistance--with a capital R--threatens any time someone attempts anything from a spiritual discipline to great art. Whether you actually produce anything saleable or not, any time you put brush to canvas, you've beaten Resistance.

How this vice affects me: domesticity. If you don't believe keeping a house is a spiritual discipline (actually, everything is), you haven't tried it. The only time cleaning is joyous is either 1) you have a true vocation for it or 2) you are trying to write a novel and are blocked. I'm not sure which way Resistance wins in that instance, but there it is. Certain household tasks (in fact, anything practical) overwhelm me. Learned helplessness or letting my illness (mood/thought disorder) run over me. 

During these events and the marital discord that results (we are perennially broke, in part because we both subsist from rental property income and Social Security), I feel that God has abandoned me to my fate. In those moments, prayer is futile. Christ is absent. Now, I know about the Dark Night of the Soul and all, but I am not so egotistical as to believe that is what is happening. Someone once complained that God doesn't treat his friends very well.

Maybe this blog will help you, Dear Reader. If it does that, then this is not mere self-reflection, mere enthusiasm.