B
bardegaulois
Guest
I’ve long asserted that sloth or acedia is probably the least understood of the capital sins. As we think of sloth in general parlance as meaning laziness, it conjures up images of an obese, unshaven couch potato, and while that might well be an example of spiritual sloth, I think there’s a lot more to it. Almost every source I consult considers sloth to be a neglect of or lethargy in fulfilling one’s duties before God and the duties of one’s state of life.
About a month ago I turned 35. I’ve come to the point where my youthful ambitions of entering the priesthood have largely become impossible, and I’ve been pouring myself into both my secular career and my ecclesiastical work. Ever since my birthday, though, my reflections have been taking on something of a different cast. I’ve come to a place where my past self-image has been destroyed, at times rather painfully, and in my secular work and in my position in the Church, it seems that I’ve received all that at one time I only desired. It’s a great work of the providence and mercy of God that such a position should be so prepared for me, as well as a conflict that I know will be engrossing me over the next five to ten years. In short, I finally have a rather good idea of what my duties and responsibilities now are.
But why every now and again do I look back over my past and think that, even though things all turned out for the best, they could have been quite different? Why do I often look at what I do as so paltry compared to the works of priests or monks. Why, when I try to see myself from the outside, do I see my modest fiat as so small, so insignificant? I thought for a moment that this could simply be the virtue of humility. However, as these thoughts make me lose courage in the face of my daily work and struggles, leading me to think it is false humility.
I’ve read that the noonday devil strikes at midlife, that period by which the trajectory of one’s life has largely been determined, one steadily is making progress toward a goal, and then the zeal that compelled one to choose that path vanishes, often accompanied by that aridity that makes even prayer and pious work seem laborious. Past consolations become burdens, and life becomes a trial of simply continuing to do what one was doing, the progresses and successes in it just seeming very unfulfilling, and setting the mind wondering about what might have been.
I haven’t really dealt with any great aridity to this point, but I must ask myself if this is acedia starting to make its presence mildly known, or if it’s something I should be watching out for more as I age. Any insights into this, or into the nature of sloth or any other of the temptations specific to midlife?
Thanks to all.
About a month ago I turned 35. I’ve come to the point where my youthful ambitions of entering the priesthood have largely become impossible, and I’ve been pouring myself into both my secular career and my ecclesiastical work. Ever since my birthday, though, my reflections have been taking on something of a different cast. I’ve come to a place where my past self-image has been destroyed, at times rather painfully, and in my secular work and in my position in the Church, it seems that I’ve received all that at one time I only desired. It’s a great work of the providence and mercy of God that such a position should be so prepared for me, as well as a conflict that I know will be engrossing me over the next five to ten years. In short, I finally have a rather good idea of what my duties and responsibilities now are.
But why every now and again do I look back over my past and think that, even though things all turned out for the best, they could have been quite different? Why do I often look at what I do as so paltry compared to the works of priests or monks. Why, when I try to see myself from the outside, do I see my modest fiat as so small, so insignificant? I thought for a moment that this could simply be the virtue of humility. However, as these thoughts make me lose courage in the face of my daily work and struggles, leading me to think it is false humility.
I’ve read that the noonday devil strikes at midlife, that period by which the trajectory of one’s life has largely been determined, one steadily is making progress toward a goal, and then the zeal that compelled one to choose that path vanishes, often accompanied by that aridity that makes even prayer and pious work seem laborious. Past consolations become burdens, and life becomes a trial of simply continuing to do what one was doing, the progresses and successes in it just seeming very unfulfilling, and setting the mind wondering about what might have been.
I haven’t really dealt with any great aridity to this point, but I must ask myself if this is acedia starting to make its presence mildly known, or if it’s something I should be watching out for more as I age. Any insights into this, or into the nature of sloth or any other of the temptations specific to midlife?
Thanks to all.