Thankfully, the Catechism of the Catholic Church gives us the alternative word for this easily misunderstood sin:

“[Seven sins] are called "capital" because they engender [give rise to] other sins, other vices. They are pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth or acedia.” (CCC 1866)

Acedia comes from the Greek word, akēdeia, meaning "lack of care." But this sin goes well beyond "not giving a hoot"  or even neglecting to keep up with our prayer life. The most profound definition of acedia I have encountered is this:

Acedia is a spiritual sadness resulting from a loss of trust in the goodness of God.

This, of course, is a much more serious condition than just being lazy – and it seems to me that there is currently an epidemic of this kind of spiritual sadness, at least in the West. It is important, however, to distinguish the spiritual sadness of acedia from clinical depression, which is also increasingly prevalent. (According to the CDC, in 2020, 18.4 percent of U.S. adults reported having been diagnosed with depression at least once in their lives.)

Why, Lord?

From the spiritual viewpoint, since the spiritual sadness of acedia commonly involves a lack of trust in the goodness of God, it is worth asking how this lack of trust comes about. There can be many reasons, including a sense of being overwhelmed by the weight of our sins. But another common cause has to do with life's hardest question, namely, how can a loving God permit so much suffering in this world? Not just to the world in an abstract sense, but to me, personally … or to my loved one. Whether it is a cancer diagnosis, a child dying in a car accident or a major catastrophe like a tornado or wildfire, most of us at one time or another cry out to God: “Why, Lord? How can you let this happen if you are truly the God who ‘is love,’ as Scripture says?” (1 Jn. 4:8)

God's answer to the mystery of suffering

According to Peter Kreeft, author of Making Sense Out of Suffering, "the answer must be someone, not just something. For the problem (suffering) is about someone (God—why does he... why doesn't he ...?) rather than just something. To question God's goodness is not just an intellectual experiment. It is rebellion or tears. It is a little child with tears in his eyes looking up at Daddy and weeping, "Why?" This is not merely the philosophers' ‘why?’ Not only does it add the emotion of tears, but also it is asked in the context of a relationship. It is a question put to the Father, not a question asked in a vacuum. The hurt child needs not so much explanations as reassurances. And that is what we get: the reassurance of the Father in the person of Jesus, "he who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9).

Kreeft goes on to explore the mystery of suffering more deeply, "not just of suffering but of suffering in a world supposedly created by a loving God. How to get God off the hook? God's answer is Jesus. Jesus is not God off the hook but God on the hook. That's why the doctrine of the divinity of Christ is crucial: If that is not God there on the cross, but only a good man, then God is not on the hook, on the cross, in our suffering. And if God is not on the hook, then God is not off the hook. How could he sit there in heaven and ignore our tears? There is, as we saw, one good reason for not believing in God: evil. And God himself has answered this objection not in words but in deeds and in tears. Jesus is the tears of God."

God's answer to acedia

As the Nazi party in Germany was poised to unleash its horrors on the world, a young Polish nun was given the mission by Christ to be his "apostle of mercy." In one of her many mystical encounters with Jesus, St. Faustina heard him say: “I do not want to punish aching mankind, but I desire to heal it, pressing it to my merciful heart.” The Lord asked the nun to have an image of him painted, and he specified that the prayer, “Jezu, ufam tobie" ("Jesus, I trust in you”) should appear at the bottom of the painting. This image of the Divine Mercy is now found in churches across the globe.

The timing of Jesus giving this prayer to the world is quite significant. Trust in God is hard when things look hopeless, and people had recently experienced the devastating effects of World War I. Trust in the Lord's loving care had plummeted. Less than a year after St. Faustina died in 1938, Germany invaded her native homeland of Poland and World War II began.

This simple prayer – "Jesus, I trust in you" – is arguably heaven's antidote for the spiritual sadness of acedia that has largely taken hold of humanity in the last century or so. It is precisely by growing in our trust of Jesus who is God that we can overcome the spiritual sadness that occurs when we stop trusting in God's goodness. Pope St. John Paul II, who grew up witnessing the demoralizing impact of Nazism and Communism on the human spirit, canonized St. Faustina on April 30, 2000. And five days later, the Vatican decreed that the Second Sunday of Easter would henceforth be known as Divine Mercy Sunday. 

In his homily at the canonization Mass, the saintly pope declared: "This consoling message [of Divine Mercy] is addressed above all to those who, afflicted by a particularly harsh trial or crushed by the weight of the sins they committed, have lost all confidence in life and are tempted to give in to despair. To them the gentle face of Christ is offered; those rays from his heart touch them and shine upon them, warm them, show them the way and fill them with hope. How many souls have been consoled by the prayer, ‘Jesus, I trust in you,’ which Providence intimated through Sister Faustina! This simple act of abandonment to Jesus dispels the thickest clouds and lets a ray of light penetrate every life. Jezu, ufam tobie.”

The Jubilee of 2025: Pilgrims of Hope

As we celebrate this Jubilee of 2025 and respond to the Church's call for us to be "pilgrims of hope," we would do well to take this simple prayer of St. Faustina into our hearts – and then share it with others who struggle to have hope. Christian hope alone brings joy and banishes the spiritual sadness connected with acedia.

But there can be no hope in the Lord without first trusting in him – and trusting in his infinite love and goodness and mercy. May we therefore whisper every day as often as we can: Jesus, I trust in you.