Fighting Sloth: Overcoming Despair and Renewing Hope
“Do not despair over your shortcomings. Start over each day. You make spiritual progress by continually beginning again and again” (St. Francis de Sales).
I’ve been disappointed with my failed discipline recently. The new year — and my immediate struggle to achieve “resolutions” — has only compounded this feeling. Distracted, unmotivated, restless, I seem to be able to do anything but what I need to be doing. Whether it in regards to work or personal development, this laziness has begun to eat away at my once ambitious, proactive vision.
I brought these concerns to God in confession a few weeks ago, and in persona Christi, the priest cut through the noise of my heart: “Laziness is, in itself, not a sin,” the priest counseled. “It is a symptom. Like a cough is to a cold, laziness is the root of despair. So, my child, what do you not trust God with? Where have you lost hope.”
I had never heard this insight before. In fact, I would not have related laziness with despair. But, I am a firm believer that you can’t fix a problem unless you know its root. So, naturally, I dove into reading how the two were related.
A Church History of Sloth
What we now understand as “sloth” originated from the Greek word “acedia,” which roughly translates to the English phrase “to not care.” The monks and religious in the second through fifth centuries were the first to identify acedia. When they were identifying the noteworthy vices, acedia towered the list above gluttony, fornication, pride, and the like.
They described acedia as the “noonday demon” that comes as a strange combination of listlessness, undirected anxiety, inability to concentrate, and task avoidance. It was understood as a silent temptation that draws the religious from their spiritual duties and into a state of restlessness. As time went on, church theologians adapted the term “acedia” to denote both sadness and sloth, until sloth won out as the more popular term of the two.
It would be too simplistic, however, to define a lackadaisical attitude as the sin of sloth. The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines “acedia” or “spiritual sloth” as “to refuse the joy that comes from God and to be repelled by Divine goodness” (2094). It’s understood to be the vice that desires ease, even at the expense of the will of God. Therefore, while sloth is commonly associated with doing nothing, a slothful person may also be tied up in pointless, busy action. To participate in sloth is to avoid the hard work, both spiritual and physical, necessary for salvation.
The sin builds on itself in three levels: physical lethargy, despair, and, finally, laziness in pursuing God and goodness. While the first level is not a sin, laziness points to a larger problem of emotional or spiritual despair. The laziness is a symptom of a sinful attitude toward life, one that does not see hope and is not grateful. The first level builds on the second and the second on the third, creating the sin of sloth.
It is important to clarify that acedia or sloth are not akin to depression, anxiety, or other mental health concerns. The despair that manifests from sloth is a deliberate consent to the idea that human nature cannot cooperate with God's grace, that the despairing person is too wicked to be saved, or that God has cast him or her away. In essence, it is a rejection of God’s goodness.
Caught up in idle activities, it is easy to ignore how a lack of discipline and compounding distraction is manifesting into something larger. Writer Jason Liske explains:
“Nothing is worth doing (at least ‘now’), all matters of even weighty importance are irrelevant, the television or some other distraction has one’s full attention, and depression often sinks in like a black fog within the soul. Rather than focus on reality, sloth beckons us to a world of distraction and self-medication to provide temporary reliefs to our own lethargy and sadness. This kind of despairing spiritual environment is all rooted in the sin of sloth, which has to be one of the most forgotten and yet most common of the deadly sins today.”
Fighting the Noonday Demon
Since the pandemic, when we’ve been forced to live in increased isolation and been thrown from our routines, the lost term “acedia” holds a contemporary weight. Yet, it is not too heavy to handle. We can turn inward and fight the noonday demon.
Here are a few suggestions:
Organize your day properly. What are the tasks (spiritual, relational, educational, professional) that you need to accomplish today? Prioritize them in order.
Focus on one task at a time, and remain yoked to the work God has given you at each moment of every day.
Do a daily examen: Did I do the tasks I needed to today? If not, what got in the way? Where was I my best? Where was I my worst? Where was God working in my life today? Where did I fail to see God?
Analyze where you may have lost hope in your life. Dream again. Renew your hope. Bring your thoughts and disappointments to the Lord rather than numbing them with listless activity and avoidance.
Ask God to help you. You were not made to go it alone; His grace will help you.
It is clear that sloth promises life and gives us death. Picking up our cross and dying to ourselves — whether through sending a batch of emails, waking up early to run, or having a hard conversation with a mentor — is what will truly give us life.
A Prayer for the Slothful
(From “Common Prayer, Pocket Edition,” by Shane Claiborne, Enuma Okoro, and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove)
Once again, Lord Jesus Christ, I face the power of acedia.
Against the torrent of oblivion, I plead the blood of Jesus.
When the day stretches out before me and I am tempted to despair, encourage my soul through rhythms of prayer and work.
When I imagine my life would be easier if only I were somewhere else, help me not to flee but to trust your grace in this place.
When I lack attentive care for my neighbor, remind me how you laid down your life for me when I was still an enemy.
Deliver me from acedia, that I might greet that of you in every person and know the place where I am standing to be holy ground.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Marissa Vonesh is a graduate from the University of Miami. She currently works as the lead graphic designer for Moment magazine in Washington, D.C. A native to Northern Arizona and adventure junkie, she is no stranger to hiking, spontaneous road trips, and midnight adoration sessions. Visit her work at marissavonesh.com, or connect with her on Instagram.