Everyone seems to be doing something all the time. On one end of the spectrum, you have hustle culture, the “grindset,” calendar creep. On the other end, you’ve got gaming culture, binge-watching, and the infinite scroll. Maybe it’s just a little revenge bedtime procrastination, staying up late for some “you” time that you know you’ll actually regret. However, it shows up in life around you; every second seems to have something going on, and if not, there’s always something at hand (literally in the case of your phone) to fill it.
The Deadly Sin Of Acedia (Sloth)
Believe it or not, both ends of the spectrum, couch time and squeezing every productive moment out of the day, can land you in the same spiritual place, the deadly sin of acedia, commonly known as sloth. Most people associate sloth with a sort of laziness, a lack of movement. The binge watcher from above probably comes readily to mind. However, laziness is not what is at the heart of the sin of sloth. In The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times, Jean-Charles Nault, O.S.B., digs into sloth and gives a most unsettling insight: sometimes our busyness is the very form sloth takes today.
Drawing on the wisdom of the Desert Fathers and St. Thomas Aquinas, Nault makes it clear that sloth is less about apathy and more about escape. He writes, “acedia (sloth) is not first and foremost a lack of energy but rather a flight from God”.
That phrase struck me. A flight from God. Not a collapse, but a fleeing. Not paralysis, but distraction. That means the person who’s always in motion, who fills every spare moment with tasks, meetings, podcasts, “important work”—that person may be running from God’s call just as fast as the person who has been scrolling for the last hour.
3 Examples Of Sloth In The Form Of Busyness
This was a gut-check for me. Because how often do I choose motion over meaning? Too often. What do I mean by that? Here are a few examples:
- I’m working, and I have 5 minutes before my next meeting. Unfortunately, odds are good that I will grab my phone. Check email, sports scores, play a quick game, or any of the above. I keep on the move. What if I had just taken that time to breathe deeply and quiet my mind? Put myself in the presence of the Lord? Read even just the psalm response for the day, not even the whole psalm, and see where God directs my attention?
- Things have been busy. Stressful. I’ve been withdrawn from everyone. God, wife, kids, friends. My head has been down trying to get through. Everything I need to do is done, the kids are in bed, and I know I should pray. That my wife would love to talk about something other than household logistics. But those are difficult, and I’d rather not be vulnerable. So I find something to do, something that I can call helpful, and act like I’m doing it for the family, to take care of the blessing God has given me. I stay busy
- I’ve finally got some quiet time and no obligations. Do I pray? Read scripture, or some other spiritual book? Journal? Nope, I sure don’t. I catch up on a Netflix show. I crush some Rocket League (or at least I tell myself that’s what I’m doing). I don’t rejuvenate, become more energetic and live; I vegetate, I decay.
All of these things are essentially just doing, rather than being. Towards action, rather than connection. It’s so easy with prayer in particular, because after all, I don’t see God wandering around my house in the flesh. So I push prayer to the edges of the day—until I’m too tired, too distracted, or too “needed” elsewhere to be still. I know I’m not alone in this. When prayer feels like a burden, when silence makes us restless, when God seems like an interruption to our plans—that’s when we need to pay attention. Nault says that in those moments, we’re not choosing diligence over laziness. We may, in fact, be caught in sloth
He calls this condition “hyperactivity,” but it’s not the holy kind. It’s a subtle resistance to intimacy, a kind of spiritual ADHD. “The person afflicted by acedia prefers action to presence, projects to encounter, noise to silence.“ Sound familiar?
At the heart of it, this kind of sloth is not about inactivity, but misdirected activity. We keep ourselves busy—sometimes even with good things, even with ministry!—to avoid the discomfort of standing still before God. The noise, the hurry, the constant movement, becomes a way of protecting ourselves from the vulnerability of simply being seen and loved for who we are. It’s so much easier to be seen and loved for what we do. I must be a good person because look at how much I give to the ministry. I know I’m valuable because I work so hard and I produce! Or I distract myself from the discomfort and let the screen keep me away from being bare before God. Through busyness or laziness, I fall into sloth, avoiding the one thing necessary (cf. Luke 10:42), listening to God.
Nault puts it plainly: “Acedia (sloth) is not primarily a problem of lethargy, but of orientation. The slothful person may be very active, but all their activity draws them away from the heart of God”. What matters most is not that we do good, but that we do God’s will. We get a brilliant illustration of this in 1 Samuel 15. Saul, the King of Israel, is at war with the Amalekites and is commanded to destroy all the property of the Amalekites. Saul instead saves the best of the cattle, and when confronted by the prophet Samuel, he says he wanted to make them a sacrifice to the Lord. Sacrifice and worship are good. But Samuel rebukes Saul because he disobeyed the Lord’s command. Obedience is the greater gift, though we often want to offer it less.
The Hardest Discernment
St. Ignatius of Loyola warns of this same danger. He essentially states that the hardest discernment is never between good and evil, it is between two goods, the one I want and the one God wills. Thus, we cannot simply be satisfied with good action; we must focus on right action, that which God asks of us. If we are oriented away from God, no matter how good the thing we are oriented towards is, we will end up apart from Him. So the question isn’t whether it’s good to do another hour of ministry, it’s whether GOD wants you to do another hour of ministry (more on this discernment here).
It’s sobering. And it’s freeing. Because it reminds us that what God wants most isn’t our performance—it’s our presence. Not our efficiency, but our availability. The real danger isn’t that we’ll stop working; it’s that we’ll stop abiding in God. Scripture never tells us exactly what we must do in our unique circumstances or which activities we should be involved in. But it does say to remain in His love (John 15:9).
So, if you find yourself rushing from thing to thing, spiritually exhausted but outwardly productive, maybe ask: is this busyness rooted in love—or is it a subtle way of running from it? Am I offering that which God wants of me, or am I offering what I want of God?
Because at the end of the day, sloth isn’t the refusal to do—it’s the refusal to be where God is.
Image: Photo by mauro mora on Unsplash
