On Catholic Ed and the World of a Principal

This week’s review is The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times by the French abbot, Jean-Charles Nault, O.S.B.

Probably one of the best spiritual books I’ve read, The Noonday Devil is a series of lectures that walk through the sense of spiritual malaise that can be a part of the practice of life. Earlier this year, I went through the text a second time with a focus on what this means for leaders of schools, especially in a spiritual setting. It is very easy to feel overwhelmed given the immensity of our challenges and tasks as principals. Abbot Nault and his writings offer hope.

The book pieces together four chapters. The first section digs into what the early church thought of Acedia, especially in the context of the Desert Fathers – those who first went out of society to draw closer to God. The second section focuses on the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas and ends with the sunsetting of Acedia from the teachings of Christianity. The third and fourth section bring us into the present, reclaiming Acedia as a sin in the present Christian life and then examining it across vocations.

In his introduction, Abbot Nault marks the 1994 document which notes that “acedia is absolutely and completely ignored” and the 1996 retreat by Cardinal Schonborn where he states “It seems to me that the deepest crisis in the Church today is…this torpor of mind and heart acedia” (18). This discussion of a forgotten sin that lies at the heart of modernity and faith marks each of the following four sections. At the same juncture, it poses a question – why has acedia been lost?

Chapter one focuses on Evagrius and the desert fathers. Drawing upon the idea that “Christian life [is] a march through the desert” echoing the Exodus, we are then tempted by the eight evil kingdoms of pride, gluttony, list, avarice, sadness, anger, acedia, and vainglory (25). Evagrius is noted as the first to make this list which damages our corporeal and spiritual aspects, influencing the intellect in a negative fashion. He notes that acedia is “an atonia or ‘relaxation of the soul,’ in other words, a lack of spiritual energy” (28), relating the story of a monk unable to concentrate on his prayer and spiritual duties. This sense of clock-watching, wishing for distractions, fly-like thoughts, and shallow sleep marks my own experience of prayer as well!

For Evagrius, Acedia makes five manifestations and Nault goes through each as they will evolve in his latter sections in our modern and lay life. They are:

1. A certain interior instability – “the need to move about” (30)
2. An exaggerated concern for one’s health – here there might be a connection to gluttony
3. Aversion to manual work – not just laziness but even “activism that consists of fleeing ahead” (34)
4. Neglect in observing the rule – a focus on the bare minimum or even maximalism
5. General discouragement

These five also present remedies, “which incidentally are astonishingly simple” (37):

1. Tears – “acknowledgement that ne needs to be saved, that one cannot go it alone” (37) that will “little by little…transform our heart so as to make it docile to the Lord” (38)
2. Prayer and work – perseverance in our vocation and its daily routines
3. The antirrhetic method, or contradiction – essentially replying to the temptations of acedia with scripture
4. Meditation on death – “the sufferings of the present time cannot be measured against the glory that awaits us all” (42)
5. Perseverance – an active thing, “an appeal, an increase of fidelity” (42)

The rest of this section builds off of this exposition on Evargius and offers the writings of other early Church fathers. For John Cassian, acedia has eight “daughters…laziness, sleepiness, peevishness, restlessness, vagrancy, instability of mind and body, garrulousness, and curiosity” (51). Saint Benedict offers advice on avoiding acedia with joy in the Gospel and vocation. Saint Gregory the Great omits the word “acedia” in his writings on the 7 deadly sins; however, “he incorporates acedia into sadness…acedia, in his view, was too specifically monastic and had little significance for his readers” (54). Abbot Nault will use the third section to point against this interpretation for us, his modern readers.

The focus on Saint Thomas Aquinas arises from Nault’s own history and scholarship. As such, it forms a core part of his work. Nault cites two definitions: “sadness about spiritual good” and “disgust with activity” (57-58). With regards to the first, the actions we do, for Aquinas in Nault’s interpretation, are rooted in love and lead to “presence, encounter, and communion” (67). They permeate charity in our friendships and enable us to participate in our own good and that of our friends. Acedia then is the opposite of this – a passion of sadness that is opposed to joy. The second points to acedia not as a sadness but “a sluggishness that prevents one from acting” (73). Here it opposes the virtues (which lay in our ability to act, choose, and be good). Acedia here is not just a sadness but a something that “crushes or paralyzes activity” it prevents us from doing and growing in virtue (80).

Like Cassian, Aquinas expounds on the offspring of Acedia. Here Nault highlights “despair, the first and most terrible daughter of acedia…[when one] thinks that beatitude is very good but that he is unworthy of it” (82). For Aquinas, this gift of beatitude, found in the Incarnation is the answer for Acedia. God is the shepherd and his searching for us, caring for us, and dying for us sparks the joy that we find in the good. As Nault quotes “Nothing, of course, so induces us to love one as the experience of His love for us” (87). This freedom to choose will lead to Acedia’s neglect.

The final section in chapter two focuses on William of Ockham. Nault contrasts freedom as defined by the “the ability that man has to perform virtuous actions when he wants and as he wants” (96); with Ockham’s emphasis on the freedom to do any action “in a state of total indifference with regard to good or evil” (96-97). It is the law, then, that pushes our freedom towards the good; rather than an inherent attraction to the good. This becomes central to Kant where “the goodness of an act comes solely from its obligatory character” (101). The Church’s call to recenter morality on the first-person (here Nault cites Veritatis splendor) – where an individual struggles to be free to choose the good. This struggle can then be affected by acedia; no struggle, no acedia.

The third section then brings us into the relevance of acedia for us, especially as leaders in a mission-driven atmosphere. In the face of the modern moment, I wholeheartedly agree with Abbot Nault’s warning that “the most dangerous aspect of acedia: the temptation of nihilism. This is a genuine hatred of being…” (109). The sense that we have lost a feeling of rootedness in God and faith undergirds the moment in our society and can be extremely tempting as a school leader dealing with enrollment issues, crumbling infrastructure, disengaged teachers and families, lack of support, and the ongoing knock-on effects of an abuse crisis and cover-up.

This nihilism naturally leads to the problem of despair. As Abbot Nault quotes Cardinal Ratzinger: “the forbidden joys lose their attraction the moment they are no longer forbidden” which leads to not only a loss of faith in God but a loss of faith in “the idols — science, progress” (111). This despair bears fruit in a feeling of instability and a “horror of anything lasting, of everything that stays in one place” – leading to envy, greed, pride, and acedia at once. We become afraid to be alone with our own self and the quiet relationship of God. As a school leader – there is always something to do and this sense of despair in terms of a never-ending to-do list, the sense of pride and self in terms of “I’m the only one who can do it,” and the uneasiness to allow reflection all have their root not in Truth but in acedia.

This instability leads also to a false sense of self and culture. As Nault puts it: “The rejection of man’s greatness and of the vocation to which he is called may be hidden subtly behind a semblance of humility: man asserts that he is not worthy of God’s love” (120). Here I see echoes to the transhumanism push and consideration of a post-AI utopia in other recent documents I have read. But regardless this is not humility (“always to aim higher as long as we do not rely on our own strength but place our trust in God’s help” (121). This acedia in the spatial dimension pushes us to surrender to the mileau.

The temporal dimension, on the other hand, encourages us to “lose interest and incentive” (122). Here an examination of this “noonday devil” leads to the idea that at noon, time “appears to stop and hand hang heavy” and we can “lose the sense of time as nihilism does; or else, flee the present and take refuge in the past or in the future” (125). This idea of “killing time” by reminiscing, doubting, surrendering to mediocrity, or amusing ourselves to death is also acedia, a siren call for those of us who remember the ‘good old days.’ The noonday devil offers the temptation to “regret the decision that we have made” (129) or “when it seems too late to make a new start, to do one’s life over, only one solution remains: to live in mediocrity” (ibid). Here quoting Marie-Dominique Molinie, at length (131):

The devil’s tactic is to propose what is ‘reasonable’… Yes, he is the prince of lukewarmness, the king of compromise. His goal is not to make us fall into specific errors but, on the contrary, to leave us in uncertainty, to submerge truth in uncertainty. Because it is impossible to stake one’s life on vague ideas and, consequently, to become a saint under those conditions.

At this juncture, Abbot Nault turns to the antidote: “joyful perseverance” (134). We must stand fast as “our dwelling place is first of all our profound desire” – the call back home to heaven. We are chosen and this is “our own vocation, our specific calling. Acedia manifests itself, then, as the temptation to deny our commitment” (137). But by holding fast even in difficult times to that joy and to the Church itself through scripture, faithfulness, the Eucharist, we can live in joy: “Sadness is looking at oneself; joy is looking at God” (143). Nault adds a quote from Francis’ own efforts to invite us to participate in this joy (145): “Do not be men and women of sadness: a Christian can never be sad!” All too often our schools and ministries wallow in sadness and not the joy we have in our sense of mission, love, and hope.

The fourth chapter aims “to present the specific forms that acedia can assume in the different states of life of a Christian…monastic life, priestly life, and married life” (147). Although readers not in those various states may choose to skip, there is still wisdom in the notes of each. Monks are warned to “remind the world that it is necessary to lift our eyes to heights” and not “reduce charity to mere social service” (163); a reminder that our mission is not just education but sainthood.

The section for priests begins with Pope Francis’s own words on acedia. In a retreat he lead in 2006, he warned that acedia “can take on various guises in our life as pastors…paralysis…hyperactive pastor…ambitious plans hatched without any attention to the nitty gritty…getting tied up in knots about immediate details…It is important to recognize that acedia is a divisive and debilitating force” (168). Nault adds to this list that despair is the “most obvious manifestation” when “the priest no longer has a sufficiently supernatural outlook to be able to see things as God sees them” (169). This loss of faith in self and God can extend to the Church and to the “apparent failure of his ministry” but the priest is called to “remember that he sowed or watered, but God is the one who gives the growth” (170). The business and duties that Francis cites can cause the abandonment of prayer such that it “can eventually become impossible and even tolerable” (174). These warnings are fruitful prompts for reflection for those of us who rarely see the careers and lives of the children we educate; for those who neglect prayer due to email, meetings, walk-throughs, and paperwork.

Abbot Nault then turns to the attacks of acedia on the “spiritual fruitfulness of a married couple” (178). Here the “temptation” is to “infidelity and a lack of trust” as opposed to the recognition that “true love is ever new…a radical gift of themselves” (179-181). Acedia strikes at the desire to give oneself to children and life and the desire to be ‘at home’ as we fight against the duties of their state and from everyday life at home” (187). Novelty should not be sought for novelty’s sake permeating not only routine but the sexual life of a couple. Such a fight against routine is a temptation for me not only at home, but also at work – how often do we rebel against the little systems that help a shcool function smoothly?

A last section focuses on Single Persons. Here “acedia can manifest itself as the feeling of being excluded,” (192) an isolating factor which the Church is called to reject and instead welcome all into the family of faith. Here the single person “possesses qualities, gifts, and even charisms that he can and must place at the service of all” (193). This same call is a must for us and our staff – we are called to share ourselves fully with our communities and each other.

Abbot Nault ends by connecting Acedia with the New Evangelization. Framed with the story of the woman at the well – who Nault interprets as suffering from acedia – there, alone, isolated, in the noonday sun. Jesus, assuming our humanity, is likewise “weary” and hungry- suffering in body, but unlike the conflicted woman, not in soul. From her encounter with Christ “conversion is born; from conversion is born evangelization” (198) as she rushes to town to tell all of what she has meant. Her stupor is removed and her joy is evident. Benedict XVI is quoted from a homily in 2012 noting that “This void [of spiritual desertification] has spread. But it is in starting from the experience of this desert…that we can again discover the joy of believing” (199). The new evangelization therefor is not a duty but a “remedy that can restore joy and life,” one that is found “in the joy of the gift…the gift of God himself” (201). Ultimately, this vocation is the only thing that can conquer “the noonday devil” (202). It is this call to joy – one that overcomes despair, nihilism, lethargy, business, and slack that is essential for us to heed as school leaders.

The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times by Jean-Charles Nault, O.S.B.

Rating: 5/5

Good for: everyone

Best Nugget: the whole thing!

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