The Desert Fathers Knew Something About Long, Hot Days
Fifteen centuries before the smartphone, the monks of Egypt named a spiritual illness that strikes hardest in summer heat. Their diagnosis is uncomfortably accurate.
It comes in the middle of the day, in the heat. The monk in his cell feels a creeping restlessness—an inability to stay, to pray, to work, to read. He looks out the window. He looks again. He decides he would do more good somewhere else. He begins to feel that his cell is uniquely unsuitable for spiritual progress, that his situation is exceptional, that moving would solve everything. He does not move. The feeling intensifies. The afternoon stretches out like a desert.
The Desert Fathers of 4th-century Egypt had a name for this condition: acedia. From the Greek akēdeia—lack of care, indifference—it is one of the eight logismoi, or disordered thoughts, catalogued by Evagrius of Pontus, the great theorist of desert spirituality, and it has a specific physiological marker: it strikes hardest at noon.
Evagrius described it with the precision of a clinician: “First of all, the demon makes it appear that the sun moves slowly or not at all, and that the day seems to be 50 hours long. Then he compels the monk to look constantly toward the windows, to jump out of the cell, to watch the sun to see how far it is from the ninth hour, to look this way and that.” His contemporary John Cassian, writing in the Institutes, completed the portrait: the monk “fancies that he will never be well while he stays in that place, unless he leaves his cell.” Any number of plausible reasons present themselves—his health, his relationships, his effectiveness, his duty to others. All of them, Cassian says, are the demon talking.
Both Evagrius and Cassian associated acedia with “the destruction that wastes at noonday” of Psalm 91, which in the Greek and Latin Old Testament can be read more literally as “the noonday demon.” The association with heat and the middle of the day is not incidental. The monks spent their days fasting, working, and praying, often in total isolation, in a climate where the afternoon sun made everything more difficult. Acedia was the temptation that arrived at the point of maximum physical discomfort and minimum social support—the moment when staying put felt most unreasonable and escape felt most justified.
Learning Rest From the Trees
As it turns out, trees have been falling in the forest without making a sound since the beginning of time. Not down — just asleep. We could learn a thing or two.
In recent years, scientists have taken to analyzing the behavior of trees at night. Using infrared laser scanners, they have been mapping the branches, looking for clues. Any other method of investigation would have required natural or artificial light, thereby tainting the results. But what investigators have found under cover of darkness is surprising. Certain trees lower their branches at night by as much as four inches, in an apparent act of rest.
Many of us, meanwhile, struggle to get a decent night’s sleep. Our own branches are pushing papers on deadline and pulling strollers up two flights of stairs. Half of us have used sleep tracking devices at one time or another. Melatonin use has increased fivefold since the turn of the century. Studies show that excessive online activity is raising anxiety, derailing focus, and disturbing sleep patterns, contributing to our general and communal exhaustion. We are frazzled parents, zealous list-makers, and busy box-checkers, shouldering our sundry and accumulating burdens at a dead sprint. Go Speed Racer go.
As for the trees in darkness, when the sun returns, so too their branches return to form, “limbinal” in posture as we now understand it, standing in the threshold between rest and waking. Rooted and stalwart as ever, the trees stand between surrender, reach, and exaltation.
Where do we fit in all of this?
The trees have jobs too, of course. They deliver oxygen to humanity in exchange for our carbon dioxide by way of photosynthesis. And, believe it or not, the trees actively parent. In recent years, researchers have discovered that trees communicate and share nutrients — sacrificially — via underground fungal networks.
But whether you call it relaxation, repose, sleep, or a deep “bough” to the forces that keep them in rhythm, the trees know how to rest. While we burn the midnight oil, the rest of creation seems to know what to do with the dark, which is to be formed and restored inside of it. The trees respond when the sun goes down.
But this is not a sleep scolding.
What if our inability to rest is not a failure of discipline, but one of attention?
In the Ignatian tradition, the spiritual life begins with attention — stopping to notice what is actually happening, rather than assuming we already know what is going on, or what we need to do. How do we see God in all things if we are always spinning our wheels?
What Does It Mean to Bear Fruit?
What does Jesus mean when he tells us to “bear fruit”?
Fr. Mike Schmitz explains that bearing fruit isn’t simply about being productive or avoiding laziness, it’s about who we are becoming and allowing God to transform our lives.
How can you bear fruit today?
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Posted on August 4, 2026… Read more “What Does It Mean to Bear Fruit?”
I am Thirsty for More in my Prayer Life – What Should I Do?
In our human relationships when we ‘get closer’ with someone, it can feel genuinely lovely. We begin to feel more trust and more openness to vulnerability and emotionality. We may share more experiences and invest more time in these relationships. Our human psyche is wired for connection and love; we are wired for intimacy because of who our Creator is.
I believe this is also why when we have a growing relationship with God, we desire even more closeness with Him. And also why I think it can really hurt, even feel defeating at times, when it seems like He isn’t returning that closeness. Sometimes, I start to believe the lies that sound like: “God is not listening or speaking to me as a punishment for something because He’s mad me”, or “ He doesn’t have time for me”, or “He is holding out on me”.
Most recently, in this season of new motherhood, I have felt my prayer life do a complete 180. My son was an anomaly at first, sleeping through the night until he was about four months old. During this time, I still got up before him, prayed for an hour like I did before and loved every second of it. Then came the sleep regressions. The teething. The growing out of his bassinet. And all that came to a halt. I could not wake up before my baby. I was in survival mode. I remember crying and missing prayer, missing God, asking Him why I have this desire to be with Him but can’t seem to have the time. If I took an honest look at myself, I did not like who I was without time with God. And yet, I did not even try to open my Bible, I was on my phone more than anything else. I told myself I was too exhausted to pray. I was grumpy and content staying that way because I felt I had every justification to.
Yet my desperation moved me to surrender. There was a certain desperation for Jesus that I have never felt before. I tried praying during nap times. But sometimes my son wouldn’t nap or I had a work deadline to complete. I tried when the day was done, but sometimes I was so exhausted that I fell asleep putting my son to sleep. The promise to wake up before my son even for just ten minutes meant he woke up too.
How am I supposed to pray, contemplate, take time for silence when my days are filled with tears, a little child always needing me and I am never alone? Or even once I nailed a routine, the next developmental leap occurred and I had to pivot…again!
How I Share My Faith With My Daughter as Someone New to Christianity
I am a new believer of Christianity after being into more alternative, what some might call “new age” spirituality for most of my adult life. During 2020, I followed psychics and astrologers on YouTube, looking for some hope and reassurance in this tumultuous year.
However, my beliefs shifted when I started to doubt the truth of what they were sharing. It felt like a spiritual weather forecast with constant updates to keep me hooked, but lacked real substance. I found the movie “A Case For Christ” and realised there was real evidence for the existence of Jesus and his resurrection.
As I’ve embraced my newfound Christian faith, one challenge for me has been how to introduce the concept of the existence of God to my 10-year-old daughter. I am envious of friends who have parented with God in their family life from day one, how God is a constant presence in their family life, in conversation and in prayer.
My daughter grew up with me talking about the universe and suggesting white bubbles of protection. These were concepts shared with me by other spiritual-but-not-religious friends and read about in books like “The Secret.”
It felt like a leap to suddenly introduce the idea of a God she can talk to and get to know. I’m also well aware that at my daughter’s age, if I drag her to church, or force her to read the Bible, she will just rebel. Yet it’s very hard to relax and just let it go when salvation is at stake.
I still feel quite self-conscious about praying with others and wouldn’t have felt comfortable suggesting we pray together as a family – until one day, a few weeks ago.
Our family cat had disappeared and hadn’t been seen for 20 hours. It was the longest stretch of time she’d ever been away from home. My daughter was worried.
I said a few prayers on my own that day, asking God to please bring her back. I also realised I wanted to involve my daughter in the prayers but wasn’t sure how. So I asked God for help in bringing prayer into our family life.
By evening, my daughter was becoming more and more concerned, unable to think about anything else. At bedtime, I spontaneously found myself suggesting to my daughter that we pray. I thanked God for our lovely cats, saying that I knew he could do miracles and to please bring our cat back. Ten minutes later, my husband called upstairs to say that the cat was back, munching food! My daughter ran downstairs to greet her.
As parents we don’t have to do it alone.
Countering “Fake News” with the Good News
What is truth? Pilate’s question has come back to haunt us, and perhaps only the Church can rightly give answer.
“What is truth?” Pilate famously asked Jesus, when he was brought before him for judgement. The question was more rhetorical in nature because Pilate walked out to the crowds before Jesus could give him an answer. In fact, Truth in the flesh was standing before him, but Pilate’s eyes were closed to this reality. Jesus alluded to this when he told Pilate earlier “I was born and came into the world to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.” But Pilate was thinking of factual truths, not heavenly ones.
We are currently living in an era of “post truths” and “alternative facts.” The Oxford Dictionary defines post-truth as “Relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief,” which means that, in 2017, emotion trumps objectivity; it helps the phenomenon of “fake news” become very real to individuals (and, sadly, some professional media) who need it to feed their appetite for ideology, malice, and the mayhem that helps it all to swell and grow.
The current mood of fakery may have ridden into society on the back of satire (Stephen Colbert’s faux Fox New take-off “The Colbert Report” regularly celebrated the merits of “truthiness”) but fake news is not a recent invention. In the 19th century, “yellow journalism” increased readership (and influence) by emphasizing sensationalism over facts, somewhat like tabloid journalism.
The Bible is not fake news in any way, but we do see the concept in a number of biblical events. Just to name one — and probably the most important — the disciples of Jesus were accused of spreading “fake news” when they claimed that Jesus had risen from the dead. Of course, the real “fake news” had been spread by the chief priests and elders in this instance to discredit Jesus and his followers (Mt 28:12-15).
A number of surveys have shown that people are losing faith in the “truthfulness and objectivity” of the traditional press. They are less likely now to believe what they read in the newspapers than a decade ago. The widespread and easy access to the internet has shown people that a story can be presented in many different ways, simply by what is emphasized or ignored, and that traditional media — which once held a monopoly on reportage — may not always have been telling them the whole story. Journalism, particularly when involving stories of political moment, too often seems to surrender objectivity in order to either support or defeat an object.
How the Young Evangelize the Young
St. Thomas Aquinas wrote, “Angels are appointed to the guardianship of men, that they may take them by the hand and guide them to eternal life, encourage them to good works, and protect them against the assaults of the demons.” As we grow in our faith, shouldn’t we do the same for others? Through his Instagram pages Marian Militia and Monk Mindset, George Jacobson is taking people by the hand. Join Dr. Tod Worner and George Jacobson on The Evangelization & Culture Podcast as we explore how, in an age of uncertainty, one Catholic college student is lighting the fires of faith in others.
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Posted on July 13, 2026… Read more “How the Young Evangelize the Young”
Creativity As a Spiritual Discipline
The Book of Genesis begins with a sweeping picture: God, in His grandeur, breathes life into the universe. Mountains and hills are formed, seas are poured out, skies are fixed in place, and all of it is filled with swarms of life. It’s into this creative symphony that God forms human life from the dirt – Adam and Eve, the first humans we meet in the Bible. Genesis records God giving these people a surprising command: “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it” (Genesis 2:15 NRSV).
This command is interesting because there’s a subtle implication behind it – the garden requires tilling and keeping. In other words, the world that God made for man and woman is beautiful, majestic, perfect even, yet also raw and wild. The garden is good, certainly, but it hasn’t been brought to its fullest expression. It requires cultivation – for people to bring something out of it.
Later, when Adam and Eve rebel and fall to the temptation of the serpent, God tells Adam that his work will be cursed, that he will have to toil painfully to get anything from the ground. He doesn’t say that his work is bad. The command to cultivate and create came before the curse, not after. What does this mean for those of us who consider ourselves to be “creatives?”
In his book Garden City, pastor and theologian John Mark Comer paints a picture of salvation history that feels a little bit different than what many of us are used to hearing. He begins with the raw material of Eden and the command to cultivate and finishes the book by describing the Heavenly City in the last book of the Bible, Revelation. Comer notes that there are several similarities between Eden and the Heavenly City: both feature a river of life, a tree of life, precious stones and gold, and as being on top of a sacred mountain.
In Comer’s reading, it would seem that the Heavenly City is the Garden of Eden in its cultivated state – the fulfillment of God’s command to till and keep the earth. What matters for creatives is the work that occurs in between.
It may be difficult, yes, even cursed, but it is more significant than many of us give this work credit for. It can be easy to fall into the belief that creative work (or any work for that matter) doesn’t have anything to do with our spiritual lives. Nothing could be further from the truth. If we take this reading of Scripture to be true, then our creativity is in fact a fulfillment of one of God’s first commands to the human race.
How to fix broken communication: an unlikely starting place
The truth is, as often as we’re speaking, we’re witnessing. Every word is its own testimony.
How does it seem as though two people are talking past each other? Or that two people are firmly convinced that, individually, they’re in the right but the other is in the wrong?
There’s a way to fix the habits that lead to broken communication, and I’m going to suggest an unlikely starting place — the 9th Commandment (or the 8th Commandment according to the Catholic numbering of the commandments; I was using my old Protestant Bible when I wrote this, so I refer to it as the 9th).
The Commandment is, “Thou shalt not bear false witness.”
But wait a minute
But is the 9th really that easy to skip past? I was making a lot of assumptions, assumptions that any good examination of conscience won’t allow me to get away with. My modern mind, accustomed as it is to a court system and trials by jury, was identifying a witness only in connection with an official legal process, or with outright lying when asked a question about someone else. This is not at all accurate.
The truth is, as often as we’re speaking, we’re witnessing. Every word is its own testimony. Negative people often bear false witness against the blessings they’ve been given. Cynical people bear false witness against hope. Angry people bear false witness against the need for forgiveness. Bored people bear false witness against wonder. What might seem to be harmless gossip bears false witness against others.
The truth is, as often as we’re speaking, we’re witnessing. Every word is its own testimony.
Are little white lies okay?
The more I live a life that I don’t have to lie about, the less I lie … Aren’t there basically three reasons we tend to lie?
What are the reasons we lie?
Second, we lie to make ourselves look better. I have the uncanny ability to make myself the hero of the story I’m telling. I’m a great editor at making my role in the story sparkle. Everything I said was witty and pithy. I had just the right comeback when I was insulted. I was right about everything.
Third, we lie to avoid trouble. When I was a child, I would tell my mom I cleaned my room. Tell my teacher I did my homework. Tell the boss I finished the task. Claim that I ate all my broccoli (when in fact I’d hidden it in a napkin and put it in the trashcan).
Little white lies are things we say out of convenience and laziness. Fixing the latter goes a long way towards eliminating the former. The more I live a life that I don’t have to lie about, the less I lie. Of course, there are still some awkward moments, times when people don’t understand where I’m coming from when I decline an invitation or say no to an event, but I’ve found that the more consistently and transparently I draw my boundaries, the easier it is. For instance, I’ve let it be widely known that, as an early riser, I rarely accept invitations to events that go past 8:30 pm. It’s nothing personal; it’s just that I’ll fall asleep in my seat.