It took a lot of labor to create a world where “I can’t breathe” is so common it’s now a three-word summary for some of the worst humanity can do. It will take a lot of labor to uncreate and recreate a world where we see the very best humanity can do.
We must, in other words, overcome the wall called “sloth.” The writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us of destructive nature of sloth:
“Through sloth the roof sinks in, and through indolence the house leaks.” (Eccl. 10:18 ESV)
Our writer imagines a house with a roof. This is a structure that requires ongoing upkeep. And sloth is that tendency to miss this maintenance.
I’m reminded of the childhood home of Aretha Franklin. Not long ago I stood beside it on a shaded lane in Memphis, TN. Franklin went on to become the first female artist to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. In 2008 she won her eighteenth Grammy Award, making her one of the most honored artists in Grammy history.
The Franklin house is located near the south Memphis neighborhood called Soulsville, a once prominent, working-class African-American neighborhood where numerous legendary soul music artists lived and worked from the 1930s to the 1960s. Soulsville is now home to some of the most impoverished zip codes in the U.S. In 2012 the city of Memphis deemed the Franklin home a nuisance. It was slated for demolition in 2016 because of disrepair. The roof was sinking in. The house was leaking.
Dilapidation like this may be due to laziness. Or distraction. Or even busyness–with everything else but the exertion required for the ongoing establishment. That’s the thing about sloth. It may conjure up the image of a lethargic figure with a bedhead. In fact, sloth also applies to the person hustling so hard there’s calluses on their hands. Many dwellings have decayed because homeowners were burning themselves out on their profession or their play. Sloth doesn’t just describe the sleepy, it also describes stressed–anyone for any reason not providing the nurture needed for something like a home.
Or a life. And that’s the rub. American Christians may be among the most strenuous anywhere. But we may also be the most slothful. We’re lively for almost everything–except love. We may work our fingers to the bone. But we’re often not ready to lift a finger for love. And while we’re laboring for what doesn’t really matter, we’re watching the murder of lives that actually do matter.
Gary Thomas writes about this:
“Some of us live with the mistaken impression that our faith needs only to be planted, not tended.”
It’s one thing to plant a garden. That’s the exciting part. It’s work, for sure. But you can get it all done in one big push. In a few hours a garden is planted.
So it is with faith. You can make a confession of faith. You can be baptized. And that can happen in a day. It may have taken years to work up to it. But it can happen in a few moments. And you’re done. Faith is planted.
Sadly, that’s where a lot of people stop. We become sloths. We move on to other things while forgetting the main thing.
We’re like a gardener who plants but doesn’t tend. Weeds infest. Pests invade. The flowers or fruits or vegetables may not grow at all. And if they do grow, they don’t reach their potential. A garden has to be planted. But it also has to be tended.
The same is true with faith. But so many of us become sloths when it comes to our faith. We engage in every activity except the singular activities needed to tend our faith. We don’t grow in love.
Sloth was once known as a deadly sin because it led to a finality and fatality in our life with God. What we are witnessing today however, is that sloth is also a deadly sin because it is leading to the actual demise of our neighbors! The lethargy of the modern church when it comes to the love of God has put the lives of those God loves in danger.
