The Simplicity and Difficulty of Syncletica's Advice

I have written on the noonday demon, as it is called, akedia many times.  My hope is that I will not be repeating myself; at times, I lose track of my essays: what I have said, what I have written, what I have read, and what I've been wanting to write--all of these sometimes get jumbled together, and create a bit of a mess in my mind.

I am currently working on thesis for my degree in theology, and the topic is early Christian monasticism.  I will be specifically focusing on the famous monk, Evagrius Ponticus and Blessed Synclectica, who is oftentimes cast aside as one of the contributors to the development of early Christian spirituality. This has served as the foundation for further diversity of many forms of Christian spiritual life.  (I should add as an aside that there is a lot of mystery surrounding Syncletica: for a long time, there was a suspicion whether she even existed, which by now has gone.  We do know that she lived in 4th century, and the story goes that she was wealthy, who have it all up for poverty, and that she was beautiful as well.  But, in the end, what I am interested in are the words that she left behind and how she contributed to the development of spiritual life).

In the only work we have of her, most likely compiled by Pseudo-Athanasius, titled The Life of Blessed Syncletica, we see a mind concerned with a spiritual purgation of the soul.  She wants us cleanse ourselves in every possible way.  She also mentions akedia which attacks the soul and causes incredible sadness within the deep, deep paths of the soul.  She writes:


There is sadness that is helpful and a sadness that is destructive.  It is a function of the useful sorrow, then, to lament about one's own sins as well as the ignorance of one's neighbors, but also to avoid falling away from one's purpose and to achieve the goal of goodness.  These concerns therefore, are the signs of a sorrow that is legitimate and good.  There is also another kind of sorrow, prompted by the Enemy, which knows how to merge with the first kind.  For he himself imposes a sorrow, completely irrational, which has also been called by some akedia.  This spirit, therefore, must be driven off especially by prayer and psalmody.  (Life of Blessed Synclectica, #40).


Well, I read that and I understood it, and I thought: That's all you want me to do?  Pray?  Are you kidding me?  But what else can I do?  What about those dreaded hours I must face day by day, as I lose my grounding, as I get ridiculously distracted, as I go from one unfinished task to another, and as I begin to feel the nothingness and weightiness of being imposed on me?  But then, something else struck me, and that was a difference in time, in era.

It goes without saying that I abhor self-help books, but I do live today and not in 4th century, and I do expect some kind of clarity in advice.  Show me, I seem to want to yell!  But that is not what we're going to find with Syncletica or any other Desert Fathers and Mothers.  And thank goodness!  What makes these texts still relevant today is the fact that they speak to uniqueness of each and every one of us.  Man must make his own way, must figure out what works for him.  At the same, truth must be affirmed, so that we don't step into relativism (moral or any other kind).

I must admit, though, that working through the existential sorrow that is akedia is very, very difficult.  You must make that effort every day, or rather, every hour to move your body, to move your soul towards goodness and virtue, and away from anything else, which distracts from your purpose.  And there is no formula, despite the fact how much I want it sometimes.  Mindfulness, something Syncletica knew a lot about, is not a floating feeling made of some overly metaphysical soup.  Rather, it comes through act: through  an individual relating to the community.  I will go even as far as to say, through an individual relating to all of creation, although, of course, it the relationality with other human being that has precedence.

No, we don't live in 4th century, but I do think that the reason we keep failing in our spiritual progress is because we are looking for quick fixes.  Let me read that book, which has outlined a 7-step plan to a better life!  Life is much more complex and far more beautiful and rich than that.  I simply have to make an effort to move my body and mind and soul from the path of bad habits into the path of good habits. If good habits increase by time, so will the possibility of becoming a virtuous person.  Of course, we are always in the process of becoming.  The process is perpetually dynamic, or at least it should be.

The relativistic world does not seem to care about the state of man's soul, and yet this is most important.  Syncletica, again:


Consequently, the mind must become painstakingly diligent with respect its thoughts.  For when the Enemy wants to destroy the soul as he would building, he engineers its collapse from the foundations, or begins from the roof and topples the whole structure; or, he goes in through the windows, ties up the master of the house first and thus wins control of everything.  'Foundation', then signifies good works, 'roof' faith, and 'windows' senses.  And through all of them the Enemy wages war.  And so the person wishing to be saved must be very watchful.  (The Life of Blessed Syncletica, #46)


So, we see a kind of three-fold structure of person in Syncletica's advice: good works are our ethics in action, our relationality to the other, and what we do day to day, for ourselves and others.  Faith is our obedience to our Creator.  And senses are our bodily (and very important) structure, a way of relating to the world in our embodiment, which also imply a sense of gaining knowledge.  But of course, epistemological reflections are not on top of the hierarchy.  Rather, it is our foundation (which is both top and bottom in many ways): our works and our way of relating to one another.