Apathy is a sin, a "passive-aggressive hostility to God," Uche Anizor writes. "Apathy is not the hostility of a shaking fist but of a gaping yawn." Yes. He nails it. 'And when you think about it, what hurts more, someone's anger or someone's indifference toward you?"
If you ever catch yourself saying what's the use or why bother, you might need this book. If you don't believe anything about the Bible or the theme of sin and redemption, you might want some other book that defines "apathy" as opposed to detachment, which is supposed to be a good thing, advocated by spiritual gurus such as the Jesuit priest Anthony de Mello in his book "Awareness."
My hope with this book was that I'd come away with a more definitive sense of how to achieve **detachment** as opposed to apathy. Maybe a need a spiritual director. (Tried that once. It didn't work.)
Chapter 2 is intriguing. Apathy "was at one time a supremely valued orientation toward life," Anizor writes. The Stoics, I thought, had mastered detachment, not apathy, so I am still not getting it. Apathy, or "apatheia," was a virtue, "something to be sought, the culmination of an examined, chastened, and well-ordered life." Next page, we get "Apathy as Vice," a "noonday demon" leading to sloth, aimlessness, purposelessness. Quoting Dorothy Sayers, he describes apathy as "the sin which believes in nothing, cares for nothing, loves nothing, hates nothing, finds purpose in nothing, lives for nothing, and only remains alive because there is nothing it would die for."
I keep looking at this word, purposelessness, and wondering how of all the things worth reacting to on that page, that one word moves me to outrage and annoyance that such a clumsy word exists.
The first chapter illuminates a strange thing about people: we react with anger, outrage, passion, and flaming letters to the editor (or tweets, these days) about some inane issue, like the new Gap logo, while things that should rouse us to action do not. "We don't act on what we should act on, but we are awakened to things we should probably ignore," Anizor writes. Still in Chapter One, he quotes Richard Sousa's 'The Greatest Generation," reminding us of people who have "resisted the devil of indifference" and accomplished great things.
He ends every chapter with a list of questions. What book doesn't these days. I always skip those.
Every chapter is packed full of quotable quotes and references. It may seem Anizor is all over the map, jumping from parable to parable, anecdote to scientific study, but it all illustrates the theme: "Gospel hope for those who struggle to care."
If you read only one chapter in this book (and I confess, I usually read chapters out of order in books like this), I would urge everyone to read Chapter 4, "O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go." I love the story of how the classic hymn by that name was composed.
Hope and belief in the Bible seem to be the go-to, the solution, for Anizor's readers. "How we process grief and disappointment is bound up with how connected we are with Christian hope," he writes, still in Chapter 4. "We're told that we are not to 'grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope' (1 Thes. 4:13 NIV). Why? Because we believe that Jesus Christ really rose from the dead and will raise everyone who belongs to him (v. 14). These truths are supposed to be uplifting and perspective-giving. We are even told to 'encourage one another with these words' (v. 18)."
Well, there you have it.
If you find it impossible to believe the whole nine yards, from the virgin birth to the resurrection of the body, this book suddenly has less to offer for those who struggle with depression or its manifestation as apathy.
"That Jesus heals messed-up people is no dull story," Anizor reminds us (yes, I'm still in Chapter 4). He cites a scene from the TV series "The Chosen." He mentions the parable of the workers in Matthew 20. He mentions a lot of things, including the language of "story" to describe the various causes of apapthy: "The basic idea is that there is a backstory to the apathy that each of us experiences, and all our backstories differ from one another." The question is "How does the story of God's rescue connect with the little stories behind our apathy?"
On the next page, Anizor reminds us of Jude 22, "Have mercy on those who doubt." Another page cites scientific evidence that people who have hope fare better in life. Another page quotes Martin Luther King.
In the second-to-last chapter, "Ways to Combat Apathy," Anizor cites C.S. Lewis, Dostoeveksy's "Crime and Punishment," and a Bob Newhart scene with the classic, over-simplified advice, just "Stop it." We need ways to work ourselves out of a rut, and one way is adopting new practices, e.g., create a new spiritual group at your church, or do the trendy "practice gratitude" thing. An easier suggestion for us to try might be spending a day off the grid to combat "solitude deprivation," though I suspect a lot of people suffering from apathy might be suffering too much solitude already.
Anizor doesn't promise an easy way out, a quick fix. In "Concluding Thoughts," he acknowledges the role of depression as a "common cloak" for apathy. "Whether processing the depression that expresses itself as apathy, or processing apathy itself, the path of overcoming is a lengthy one. It may take weeks, months, or longer."
This is not a typical Self-Help book with "winning" strategies to overcome apathy and set the world on fire with passion and positivity. The one drawback I see is that Anizor's approach is helpful only (or primarily) for those who believe in the Bible and all its promises.