Acedia is a no-no

I learned about "acedia" at the Schweitzer Conoco station yesterday. It was a good time to learn about its meaning because I had just experienced an hour of memorable joy.

Usually, a stop at the Schweitzer Conoco is a quick one, which makes sense cuz it's a Quik Stop place for gas, guzzling, gorging and a little gabbing---in no necessary order of importance. I get my coffee and chocolate fix there and occasionally gas up. And, surprisingly, sometimes I gab.

I had my coffee and Dove bar in hand and had handed over the money when a tall, distinguished man wearing a sport coat and tie walked through the door. That's something you don't often see at the Schweitzer Conoco, cuz most folks come as they are, whether they're skiers headed to or from the slopes to grab some caffeine or working folks just off shift to pick up a six-pack.

Well, I got my change and then realized I knew that man. It was Dr. Ed Gould, former English professor, now retired surgeon who, late in his medical career, specialized in vericose veins. I taught his daughters. Hadn't seen him for several years, so I yelled, "If it isn't Dr. Gould."

That started a gab session lasting for about 15 minutes. I'm sure the clientele, coming and going to the check stand, may not have been too impressed hearing about the Plantagenets and all their family members. A very knowledgeable Dr. Gould can speak of this bunch of royalty as if they were the neighbors down the road.

He had just come from giving a sermon at a church in Coeur d'Alene, so, of course, we got into a bit of the nitty gritty's of organizing one's thoughts. Dr. Gould believes in keeping that mind on course the old-fashioned way: the outline. To which I agreed that it's often very helpful, though I neglected to tell him that I'm one of those who veers off course a bit---hence slight detours.

Which reminds me that I was gonna talk about why acedia is a no-no. Dr. Gould told me he had just learned there were once 8 deadly sins instead of the 7, which we all know and occasionally practice and then pray that we won't do it again. Remember those: Pride, Avarice (Greed), Envy, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony, and Sloth.

I'm thinking that maybe I've been guilty of at least three in the last week. I'll let you decide, but one hint and an indicator that I'm always guilty of one of them is that I'm Irish.

Now, the good doctor told me he never knew this until someone told him just recently that "Acedia" was, indeed, one of the 8 deadly sins. If I recall correctly, he said it was back in the 600s. For some reason someone along the way must have eventually outlawed it as a sin. Get this, it's against the law to call this a sin.

Immediately, my Greek roots were at work thinking about the "a" which can mean "without, away" and the "ced" which can mean lead, and the "ia" making it a noun of condition. That was a start, but Dr. Gould told me outright it means "boredom, apathy or lacking joy in life." It used to be illegal to feel this way, at least in the eyes of hierarchy who made up the rules.

I said to Dr. Gould that it seemed like a pretty timely deadly sin to bring back these days, and he agreed, citing the lack of joy people are feeling as they watch their stocks and retirement funds dwindle to nothing. He said it seems easy for people right now to feel apathy and boredom and no joy in their Mudvilles across the country and the world.

I could see that, and it got me to thinking that it would be good to start working on the acediacs we know and encourage them to go looking for some joy, which could certainly sustain them at least for a time while they weep and watch their money floating away.

Dr. Gould and I eventually finished our heavy discussion at the convenience store, and I headed home, thinking about the simple joy I had just experienced before my stop at the store.

After a somewhat frustrating morning, I had gone to see Monsignor O'Donovan to deliver a pile of the March River Journal, which features a "Love Notes" column about him and his recent Investiture Mass. I had also copied off the blog posting from last week with all the photos of his celebration.

Monsignor O'Donovan is 86, and he has macular degeneration, so I read the words I'd written about him on the blog and those I'd written and that others had uttered about him in the column.

I won't forget that visit. It was pure joy to look up from time to time, as I read, and to see the frail, gentle priest listening intently and occasionally smiling at what had been said.

It was a wonderful, poignant experience because I was able to share with him the genuine love that so many people feel for him and his 60 years of service to God and His people.

No acedia in that room, I guarantee.

Granted, I find it difficult at times to avoid experiencing acedia, but as frustrated as I can get, something usually comes along in my day helping me forget all about the "things" that are supposed to make us happy and which often fall short.

It's the moments of human interaction, of appreciation for all the beauty that God has crafted for us and even the joy of watching the region's "team" win another game---these all help us build immunity from acedia.

I don't know if, during these hard times, we have to reconsider adding "acedia" to that list of deadly sins, but maybe if we can learn to catch ourselves deep within its grasp and realize it can be deadly to us and to those around us, we might just jerk ourselves from the morasse and go looking for simple ways to cure its hold on us.

The opportunities for simple, satisfying joy abound.

What a concept to have learned at the Schweitzer Conoco! Thank you, Dr. Gould. I'll try my best to avoid that deadly sin.