Before I dive into describing this cleverly disguised deadly sin, I have a few words about the direction of this blog.
Blogs were first known as web logs. They served as an online diary where people could record their thoughts and activities day by day. You certainly don’t want to hear about errands run or other mundanities. But this year I’m going to shift my writing in a more personal and practical direction.
The purpose, of course, is to train readers to minister to victims of the Sexual Tsunami. While I've focused largely on cultural trends, biblical insights, gleanings from the books I’ve read, and sexual oddities among Tsunami flotsam, I want to try more of a “how to” approach, illustrated from personal experience.
A few weeks ago, a longtime supporter of my work suggested I write more about spiritual warfare. That, indeed, is something practical. If you are ministering to the sexually broken in any context, you will face unseen opposition. So the next few month’s worth of articles will include my own personal experiences as God has trained me to spot the enemy and deal with him directly.
Some of these posts will be paywalled. Only paid subscribers will be able to access some of the more sensitive or controversial stories and techniques. If you want to subscribe, you can click the button below. And if you can’t afford the $5.00 per month, contact me directly by replying to this email and I will see that your subscription is paid out of a scholarship fund.
Several years ago, Christianity Today sent out a special edition featuring articles by authors and leaders who had learned from giants of the past. The one article which grabbed my attention the most was by J. L. Aijian titled “The Noonday Demon in Our Distracted Age.” It was both fascinating and convicting!
The featured saint from the past was Evagrius Ponticus, a fourth century monk who oversaw the work of a monastery. The deadly sin? Acedia.
For centuries, that word fell out of common usage, but it’s making a comeback, thankfully.1 It is actually one facet of the deadly sin of sloth. Historically, acedia has been associated with Psalm 91, a passage which has always been viewed by the Church as a spiritual warfare prayer. Over the centuries, the various afflictions listed in this psalm have been identified with different types of demons who oppress believers. Note the ones italicized below:
5 You will not fear the terror of the night
or the arrow that flies by day
6 or the pestilence that stalks in darkness
or the destruction that wastes at noonday. (Ps. 91:5-6 NRSV italics mine.)
It is the last one mentioned in verse six that people have attached to acedia or the sin of sloth. It is the weariness, sadness, and boredom that settle in on us, making us vulnerable to the distractions of lesser things. Here is how Evagrius observed it in his own day:
The spirit of acedia drives the monk out of his cell, but the monk who possesses perseverance will ever cultivate stillness. A person afflicted with acedia proposes visiting the sick, but is fulfilling his own purpose. A monk given to acedia is quick to undertake a service, but considers his own satisfaction to be a precept.
— Evagrius Ponticus, from On the Eight Thoughts
Do you see what was happening in this short clip of friar life ? The monk’s immediate task is to remain in his cell until finished praying. But as boredom settles in and his mind wanders, he remembers someone who is ill—perhaps it was a person he’d just been praying for—and instead of staying in the stillness, he gets up to minister to the sick.
Obviously, visiting sick folks is not a sin. We have New Testament examples of such things. But the so-very-tempting thing about acedia is being distracted by good things and forsaking God’s best.
That doesn’t sound like our typical notion of sloth. In fact, ask most Christians today if they are committing sloth, they will laugh. “Have you seen my schedule? I go nonstop all day!”
Our frantic pace reminds me of Archibald in the Veggie Tales version of the Good Samaritan parable. Being beckoned to help the roadside stranger who’s desperately in need of an act of mercy, the inimitable Archibald passes by this God appointment, singing about the distractions of the day.
I'm busy, busy, dreadfully busy
You've no idea what I have to do.
Busy, busy, shockingly busy
Much, much too busy for you . . .
'Cause we're busy, busy, frightfully busy
More than a bumblebee, more than an ant.
Busy, busy, horribly busy
We'd love to help, but we can't!
Ah, but Sir Archibald, what if God’s priority in that moment is right in front of you?
A rather academic book on this topic is Jean-Charles Nault’s The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times. There he offers Evagrius’ definition of acedia as a “relaxation of the soul” or a lack of spiritual energy. Note this description of its effects:
Acedia endures. It is not a short-lived crisis. It is a radical, chronic evil. In Evagrius’ view, it causes a stifling of the intellect, the nous, whose function is precisely to contemplate God. Starting from the basest passions, it manages to stifle this contemplation of God.2
Did you say, “Wow! It stifles the contemplation of God!” Me too.
So often our distractions are amusements. Know the opposite of “amuse”? Take away the “a” and you get “muse”—which is another word for contemplate.
Don’t misunderstand this recovering workaholic. I’m not saying amusement is from the Anti-Christ. I’m not. We need rest, relaxation, and fun—re-creation, if you will. After all, the above quote speaks of a “chronic evil” which typifies a lifestyle. It would be an ongoing lack of keeping God’s Kingdom concerns first, day by day.
No matter what God is calling us to do, staying focused on his most pressing tasks related to our calling is so very difficult. We can develop a fuzzy weariness which we so quickly medicate with distractions. Often it is, in fact, busyness.
We all have those moments and our own particular set of distractions. Somehow we rationalize the detours, thinking that, hey, at least I’m doing something productive!
Let me share a weapon in this warfare. God has been clearly speaking to me3 about meditating upon scripture throughout the day, especially in those moments when the noonday devil seeks to distract me. After all, if acedia stifles contemplation of God, then meditation on scripture is a surefire solution.
Jesus, the apostles, and others had memorized vast portions of scripture. (They didn’t strap on leather backpacks filled with scrolls.) And during the very temptation of Jesus, it seems likely he was meditating on Deuteronomy. All three verses thrown back at Satan came from Deut. 6 & 8. Similarly, it seems likely he was meditating on the Psalms on the cross. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” is Ps. 22:1, and “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit,” is from Ps. 31:5.
Throughout the day, we can be mulling over scriptures we’ve memorized, especially when in the throes of temptation and distress.
What’s this gotta do with the Sexual Tsunami? Maybe it is obvious. When the abused and addicted are not right in front of us, we can become oblivious to the poison they are drinking up daily from the internet. Meditation on God’s Word helps us see from his perspective. It will also enable us to minister with his power and effectiveness.
Those of us called to minister must keep the Lord ever before us (Ps. 16:8; 105:4). Meditating on scripture is the best way I know to stay anchored.
Just before posting this article, a friend sent me this quote from Baylor University Institute for Faith and Learning. Corresponds well with the thrust of this post: "At its core, acedia is aversion to our relationship to God because of the transforming demands of his love," Rebecca DeYoung explains. "God wants to kick down the whole door to our hearts and flood us with his life; we want to keep the door partway shut so that a few lingering treasures remain untouched, hidden in the shadows." We deploy two, dissimilar strategies to avoid the demands of love, whether human or divine: not doing what's required of us, or pouring ourselves into something else.
The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times, Marc Cardinal Ouellet (trans. by Michael J. Miller) Ignatius Press: San Francisco: 2013. p. 20.
In my devotions on January 1, I was reading Psalm 1 and Joshua 1—both are passages which refer to mediating on scripture day and night. For the psalmist, it was a way to live a fruitful and flourishing life. God’s injunction to Joshua was similar: “. . . meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful” (Josh 1:8 NIV). His success in leadership was dependent upon meditation and obedience to scripture. However, instead of grabbing on to the importance scripture meditation, I began to read old books about leadership! Ugh. But the very next Sunday I heard a pastor preach an amazing sermon about meditation using those two very same passages! OK, God, I think I get the message. I will meditate daily on the Word!
Love the Veggie Tales reference. Those songs run on loop in my head. As I struggle more with cognitive issues, I've had to understand that sometimes spending time with God doesn't have to require that I can think straight. When I'm in a physical brain fog, I just sit with some music and let myself just BE with Christ.
Mark, I am excited about your proposed study on spiritual warfare. The battle is raging all around us and we need to be fortified with the Word, which is our only and best weapon. The more we seek the Truth in this battle, the more intense the battle becomes. Praise to you for taking this on, and prayers for you and and for all who fight this fight together.
Signed,
Your battle buddy in Christ.