Acedia, Asceticism, and the Digital Age
Finding discipline in a world of distraction
Meet Evagrius Ponticus. Folks also called him Evagrius the Solitary. He was a Christian monk who lived for about 50 years in the 4th century AD. Heralding from Herclea, a city on the coast of Bithynia in Asia Minor, he was an ascetic.
ascetic: a person who practices severe self-descipline and absetntion
Evagrius was a good little thinker. He was a good little speaker. He was a good little writer. A man of many talents.
One day, he switched careers, leaving a successful career path in ecclesiastical work in Constantinople, and shuffled his way to Jerusalem. There, he became a monk at a monastery run by a couple with good names: Rufinus and Melania the Elder.
No relation to the current First Lady, Melania, AFAIK.
After a time, he picked up again and shuffled to a new place, settling in Egypt, where he did the asceticism and writing thing.
He scribbled out his thoughts on the various forms of temptation in his writings. As this was a time before Ben & Jerry’s, he didn’t put ice cream on his list. Instead, he curated a list of eight evil thoughts:
gastrimargia (gluttony)
porneia (sexual lust)
philargyria (love of money)
lypē (sadness)
orgē (anger)
akēdia (acedia)
kenodoxia (vainglory)
hyperēphania (pride)
Let’s chat about just one on this list and one you probably aren’t familiar with: Acedia.
The ancient struggle: acedia and the modern mind
Acedia can be described as a spiritual or mental sloth. Evagrius thought of it as a serious concern. Many in monastic communities felt the same. The desert fathers (like Evagrius) and medieval scholars recognized it as more than just laziness. It was a profound restlessness. An inability to engage in meaningful work or prayer.
Sound familiar?
Today, we’re dominated by endless digital distractions.
These provide acedia with fertile ground.
Instead of desert solitude, we face the infinite scroll.
Instead of monastic discipline, we have push notifications demanding our attention.
Asceticism as a response to digital acedia
In contrast, Evagrius tried to live a life of asceticism. He practiced self-discipline and renunciation for spiritual or physical growth. He was living in the domain of monks, sages, and mystics.
In the digital age, perhaps asceticism can offer a compelling framework for resisting acedia’s grip.
If acedia is the despair that arises from disengagement, asceticism is the active practice of re-engaging with intention.
Practical applications: technology and modern asceticism
Give me the application, please. How do I apply ascetic wisdom to my hyper-connected life?
A list:
The Digital Fast — Monks abstained from food to gain spiritual clarity. I can abstain from technology to regain mental clarity. I’m not going up into the mountain for 40 days to do this, but I can set designated, tech-free hours during my day to help restore my focus.
The Rule of Life — Ancient monastic communities followed structured daily routines. I’m driving by my calendar but not using it to my advantage. I can structure my schedule better, including limiting social media to specific hours and providing balance.
Manual Labor and the Physical World—Acedia thrives in idle detachment. When I engage in manual work, exercise, or creative physical activities, this counteracts my digital fatigue. I can restore a sense of tangible accomplishment by moving and working my body.
Intentional Consumption — Just as monks carefully chose what they read and heard, I can be intentional about the content I consume. It’s up to me to filter out the noise and focus on material that fosters genuine growth.
Silence and Solitude — The desert fathers sought silence to hear the divine. I can seek intentional silence through meditation, prayer, or simple disconnection. This can offer me a refuge from the constant mental noise of a world saturated with digital chatter.
Thoughts spilling over from a Sunday School lesson
I taught the lesson at church on Sunday. That’s where I delved into first learning about Evagrius, acedia, and asceticism. It was good for me to learn about these ancient desert fathers. From the lesson, I have two quotes to share with you.
This one comes from Michael Austin’s essay, The Sacrament of Attention:
Like every resource, our attention can be bought, sold, or given away. And it can be consecrated to the Kingdom of God. This is the main point of… [the essay] “Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God…” Superficially, the essay is about the spiritual importance of secular education. But really, it is about prayer. “Prayer consists of attention,” she tells us in the first sentence. “It is the orientation of all the attention of which the soul is capable toward God.”
…[the author] frames Christian prayer as a kind of Old Testament sacrifice. When people’s wealth took the form of crops and livestock, offering an animal to God required one to part with a significant economic asset. To place a bull or flawless lamb on the altar of God, one had to make a difficult choice about a scarce resource. One had to choose God over something else in a meaningful way. In a culture whose most valuable resource is attention, concentrating wholly on God requires precisely the same kind of sacrifice. Where your attention is, there will your heart be also.
So, to add to my list, I would say that in this attention economy, I can consecrate my attention through prayer.
And from President Russel M. Nelson’s October 2020 General Conference talk, Let God Prevail:
The Lord is gathering those who will choose to let God be the most important influence in their lives.
What a good word: influence.
The call to a disciplined digital life
Living in the digital age doesn’t mean I have to succumb to its distractions and fall into acedia.
I can borrow from the traditions of asceticism to counteract this despondency and reclaim my discipline, focus, and purpose.
Do you think this list is helpful? Can I create richer, more meaningful engagement with technology and people through digital fasting, structured routines, or intentional consumption? I’m hoping the ancient wisdom of self-denial offers a pathway to this.
I want to control better what I allow to influence me.