We continue this morning in our investigation of the so-called seven deadly sins. So far, we
have talked about the sins – or as some have suggested, deadly attitudes which underlie sins – of
pride, envy, greed and anger. Today and next Sunday, we come upon what we might consider the
two featherweights of the seven deadlies: acedia, the Latin word translated sloth, and gula which is
rendered in English gluttony. At first blush, we might be tempted to breeze by these two. After all,
how often do we seriously concern ourselves with sleeping or eating ourselves to death? But the
implications of these two deadly sins go far deeper than over-resting and overeating.
A New Testament lesson which seems to be the “poster child” for sloth comes by way of a
parable of Jesus. Matthew includes it as part of Jesus’ broad teaching about His returning at the end
of time to fully establish His Kingdom. Listen to this story of the slaves and the talents.
(Read Matthew 25:14-30)
Most people tend to think of sloth as laziness; not doing much of anything, opting instead to just
sit on one’s hands doing nothing at all. When we think of sloth, our mind’s eye conjures up images
of the great American “couch potato” who lies around all day in front of the television munching
Doritos and drinking Budweiser. That’s a safe approach as few people, and even fewer Christians,
see themselves in that sort of light. Such an understanding of sloth would have set against it the
virtue of industry, that is, being busy. It is true that laziness may very well be a presenting symptom
of an underlying attitude of sloth, but sloth and laziness are not synonymous. In fact, sloth is often
buried beneath a flurry of busyness. If there is any single word which is descriptive of sloth, it might
be the word apathy. This does not necessarily imply a lack of activity, but rather a lack of interest,
concern, feeling, passion. We have all worked with people at one time or another who are constantly
“on the go,” but could really care less where or for what they are going. In reality, their busyness or
perceived attentiveness sometimes serves as an excuse or cover for the things they should be doing,
but aren’t.
Such was the case of the slave in the parable whom the master called “wicked and lazy.” Note
that the Greek word ok/nay/re
which is translated “lazy” carries the meaning of indolence: without
effort or without
pain. Whereas the first two slaves
who were given in turn “five talents” and “two”
talents worked what they had to bring out of it the fullest potential, the third slave who was given
the single talent put forth no such effort. He was busy all right, digging a hole in which to hide what
the master had invested in him, and unearthing it upon the master’s return. He had developed an
arm’s length of excuses as to why he did nothing with his talent. But the bottom line was that unlike
his two fellow slaves who showed
interest, concern, feeling, even passion, the “wicked and lazy
slave” really could have cared less. He busied himself running the route of least resistance, avoiding
the cost and burden of his responsibility as steward of his master’s possession. He was less about
lazy, and more about apathy. Brought to its simplest terms, sloth is about just not giving a darn. And
from the perspective of this parable, Jesus makes it clear that the old adage we use today has always
applied: “No pain, no
gain.” Better yet, “No pain, all lost.”
So what might sloth look like in real time? An example might be a parent who nightly sends the
children to bed early so they can have lots of quiet time to play solitaire or watch TV. Perhaps they
could let the children stay up a little later and play a game or read with them. Or maybe they always
tell their children “No!” without taking the trouble to explain why. Another example could be
someone active in a political, social, or religious movement who doesn’t go to the trouble or through
the hard work of reading about or listening to other positions, or critique of their own, and so never
questions whether their group is right or wrong. As a result, for all the placards they carry or leaflets
they distribute, they could support some very wrong beliefs such as racism, or separatism, or worse,
all because they didn’t have a passion for seeking and finding the truth. There might be a student who
naturally picks everything up with very little effort. But instead of learning more than is required, or
doing volunteer work, they just sit around playing video games or wandering in cyberspace, not
because it’s so much fun, but because they just don’t care much. In business, some business people
never hassle themselves by checking into the laws to see if their company’s practices are legal. For
Christians, we sometimes don’t really want to know what the Bible or the church teaches about
something. So we put off the hard work of reading or asking about it. Sloth could very well be the
reason so many Christians don’t seek out and read good spiritually-challenging works, instead opting
for Christian fiction, or some odd gnostic gospel, or some obtuse teaching about new light shed upon
Jesus’ life through a secret code attributed to a 15th century Italian artist; all these which may tickle
their ears and imaginations, but never call them to action: loving their neighbor, helping the poor,
engaging the Word, discerning the truth.
There is an upshot of chronic sloth, and spiritually-speaking, it is deadly indeed. Over time, the
effusive joy which generally characterizes people who live with passion, purpose, and fire in their
bellies is replaced by a lack of passion, lack of purpose, and a fire burning down to barely-glowing
embers. The early monastics whose zeal was to be in full communion with God and God’s Word are
recorded to have frequently fallen into a spiritual state of tiredness, apathy, and despair. This
phenomenon was first identified by the Egyptian monks of the desert as the “noonday demon.”
Instead of finding fulfillment in their calls to lives of study and contemplation, as the afternoons of
each day wore on, the monks became joyless and listless. John Cassian had a word for this which was
actually predecessor to the deadly sin of sloth. The fifth deadly sin was originally tristia which
means “sadness.” From this standpoint, sloth is more than mere apathy. It is an apathy tinged with
with melancholy, a true deadening of a once alive and vibrant spirit.
I’d like to conclude this section on sloth, first with words penned by medieval theologian
Thomas Aquinas, then with a passage from the Pocket Catholic Catechism, and lastly with a quote
from Christian theologian William May in his book entitled A Catalogue of Sins.
Aquinas wrote
this in his “Summa Theologiae:” “Sloth is
sluggishness of the mind and numbness
of the spirit which
neglects to begin good.... [it] is evil in its effect,
if it so oppresses a man {sic} as to
draw him away entirely
from good deeds, and its every good toil applied, and from delight in serving
his God.”
Here’s
part of what the Roman Catholic Church teaches regarding the deadly sin of
sloth: “Sloth
is the desire for ease,
even at the expense of doing the known will of God. Whatever we do in life
requires effort. Everything we do is to be a means of
salvation. The slothful person is
unwilling to do
what God wants because of
the effort it takes to do it. Sloth
becomes a sin when it slows down and
even brings to a halt the
energy we must expend in using the means to salvation.”
In closing, words from William R. May making clear the mortal nature of a sin we wrongly label
“featherweight:” “The soul in
this state [sloth] is beyond mere sadness and melancholy. It has
removed itself from the
rise and fall of feelings; the very root of its feelings in desire is
dead. That is
why, for the medieval
moralist, sloth was... the most terrifying of sins. It is sin at its uttermost limit.
To be a man is to desire.
The good man desires God and other things in God. The sinful man desires
things in place of God,
but he is still recognizably human, inasmuch as he has known desire. The
slothful man, however, is a dead man, an arid waste.... his desire itself has dried up.”