Aquinas writes about the sin of acedia, or sloth:
I answer that, Sloth, according to Damascene (De Fide Orth. ii, 14) is an oppressive sorrow, which, to wit, so weighs upon man’s mind, that he wants to do nothing; thus acid things are also cold. Hence sloth implies a certain weariness of work, as appears from a gloss on Ps. 106:18, Their soul abhorred all manner of meat, and from the definition of some who say that sloth is a sluggishness of the mind which neglects to begin good.
Now this sorrow is always evil, sometimes in itself, sometimes in its effect. For sorrow is evil in itself when it is about that which is apparently evil but good in reality, even as, on the other hand, pleasure is evil if it is about that which seems to be good but is, in truth, evil. Since, then, spiritual good is a good in very truth, sorrow about spiritual good is evil in itself. And yet that sorrow also which is about a real evil, is evil in its effect, if it so oppresses man as to draw him away entirely from good deeds. Hence the Apostle (2 Cor 2:7) did not wish those who repented to be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow. (ST II-II Q.35)
This is one of the biggest sins with which I struggle. I too easily play the sluggard. Looking around, I see a lot wrong with the world, with my family, with my friends, the Church, myself. My people are in decline. My Southern homeland is disintegrating. My family is rife with sin, ignorance, and apathy. As I am. I see all this, and I am “swallowed up with overmuch sorrow.” I’ve let down my guard and allowed sin to take root in my melancholy heart. I’ve neglected to do the good I ought, which has led to being dishonest in an effort to save face. (Sin seems to multiply faster than Romanist rabbits.)
My sense is that this is a potential weakness of many who have a classically conservative and traditionalist disposition. Or perhaps it’s just me. Either way, it is truly a deadly vice. I’ve felt myself draw back, into myself, to avoid revealing my failures. It’s a vicious circle. You don’t do the good you ought. You try to conceal that. You pull away from those you love to hide it, which means you have less to spur your on to perform your duties. You withdraw from communion with God, wherein your only hope of salvation from this lies. And so you spiral down, down, down.
Our, my, only hope is Christ, the faithful worker who never shirks his duty, who always does the will of his Father. He bore the greatest weight of sorrow, yet did not turn to look back once he put his hand to the plow. His work goes on in his Church. He calls us to unite to his Body, where we find victory over sloth. Victory comes in the joy that his salvation brings. We can rest contentedly in the knowledge and hope of his coming Kingdom and renewal of all things. And it comes in the communion we have with the saints. We share our burdens with one another, and fight them as a united people. That’s why these sins cause us to desire isolation. The Enemy knows that we will overcome when we walk in the light, confess our sins to Christ and to one another, and fight with our King and countrymen. Alone, isolated, thinking of nothing but the evils of life, we have already been defeated.
All is not well in the world, but it will be.