Deadly Snares: Sloth

Pastor Dennis Miller | March 15, 2026

Escaping the Snare of Sloth

This past Sunday we reached another stop in our Lenten series, Deadly Snares, where we’ve been exploring the seven deadly sins that quietly trap our souls.
We began on Ash Wednesday with pride, then looked at gluttony, greed, and envy. This week we turned to another snare—one that often hides in plain sight: sloth.

Now when people hear the word sloth, they usually think of laziness. They imagine someone lying on the couch all day, refusing to work.
But that’s not really what the Bible is talking about. In fact, most of the people I know—including most of the people in our church—are not lazy at all.
Many of us are incredibly busy. Some studies suggest Americans work the equivalent of around 65 hours a week when you factor in employment,
responsibilities at home, and raising families.

So the issue isn’t simply that we need to do more.

The real issue is meaning.

Sloth, in the spiritual sense, isn’t laziness—it’s apathy. It’s indifference. It’s having good intentions but never actually living them out. A helpful definition is this:

Sloth is the failure to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done.

Proverbs gives us a little wisdom about this. In Proverbs 6, we’re told to “go to the ant.”
Ants don’t have supervisors standing over them, yet they prepare, they work, they act.
The passage warns against the slow drift into inaction—sleeping a little longer, folding our hands,
doing nothing—until suddenly opportunity is gone.

That’s the danger of sloth. It sneaks up on us.

I heard a story years ago about a mother who went to wake her son up on a Sunday morning.
“You’ve got to get up,” she said. “It’s time for church.”

He groaned, “I don’t want to go. Church is boring. People there don’t even like me.”

She replied, “You’ve got to go.”

“Give me three good reasons why,” he said.

“Well,” she answered, “first, God calls us to gather and worship. Second, there are many people there who care about you.
And third… you’re 45 years old and you’re the pastor.”

Now I love a good dad joke, but there’s a point there. Sometimes what looks like laziness is really something deeper.
Sometimes it’s spiritual exhaustion.

Many of us know what that feels like. When we first come to Christ, there’s excitement. Our faith feels alive.
But somewhere along the way the fire cools.
Life gets busy. Priorities shift. Faith can begin to feel routine.

Churches can experience the same thing.

When a church first begins—or when renewal happens—there is energy and excitement.
People are passionate about serving and reaching others.
But over time it’s easy for any church to drift from the mindset of a servant to the mindset of a consumer.

Instead of asking, “How can I serve?” we begin asking, “What’s in it for me?”

Now there’s nothing wrong with being spiritually nourished. Churches should feed people.
But if all we do is feed and never move, we become spiritually
unhealthy. We become stuck.

Sloth sets in.

I recently read a striking quote from Matt Moerbe, chaplain of the Minnesota Timberwolves. He wrote:

“A broken Christianity searches every headline and every war for signs of Jesus’ return
but refuses to see him where he said he would be—among the poor, the sick, the homeless,
the immigrant, the starving, the marginalized.”

Jesus himself said that when we fail to care for the least of these, we fail to care for him.

In other words, if you’re looking for Jesus, you don’t need a chart or a timeline.
You’ll find him in the places where people are hurting.

One of the great biblical examples of someone breaking free from apathy is Peter.
In Matthew 14, the disciples are in a boat when they see
Jesus walking toward them on the water. Peter does something bold—maybe even a little crazy.

He says, “Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you.”

And Jesus says, “Come.”

Peter steps out of the boat and actually walks on water.

Now I’ve heard plenty of sermons criticizing Peter because he eventually sank.
But I’ve always thought Peter might say something back to us: “Yes, I sank… but I also walked on water.”

When was the last time we stepped out of the boat?

You’ll never walk on water if you never leave the boat.

So how do we escape the snare of sloth? Let me share four practical steps.

First, be enthusiastic.

Whenever you take a step of faith, there will always be critics.
There will always be the “cold water committee”—people who pour cold water on every idea.
Don’t let them steal your passion. God often calls us beyond the comfort of the crowd.

Second, don’t sell yourself short.

Sometimes sloth disguises itself as humility.
We say, “Oh, I could never do that. I’m just little old me.”
But kingdom work was never about our strength.
It’s about God working through us.
When our ego gets out of the way, God’s power shows up.

Third, seize the day.

I like to ask this question: If eight frogs are sitting on a log and six decide to jump, how many frogs are left?

The answer is eight.

Deciding to jump is not the same as jumping.

In the same way, deciding to pray isn’t the same as praying.
Deciding to follow Jesus isn’t the same as actually doing it.
At some point we have to act. As the old slogan says: Just do it.

God meets us at the point of obedience.

Finally, move forward and fulfill your calling.

A couple weeks ago I had the chance to visit Southern Methodist University in Dallas
and worship at Highland Park United Methodist Church.
Later I visited the George W. Bush Presidential Library.
One of the exhibits includes a replica of the Oval Office, and on the wall hangs a painting
that inspired President Bush titled A Charge to Keep.

That phrase comes from a hymn written by Charles Wesley:

A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorify,
A never-dying soul to save,
And fit it for the sky.

The hymn continues:

To serve the present age,
My calling to fulfill…

I love that line: to serve the present age.

Our faith is not only about what God did in the past.
Yes, we celebrate the moments when God moved before—revivals, conversions, baptisms, mountaintop experiences.
But our calling today is to serve this moment, this generation, this opportunity.

That’s the antidote to sloth.

When we rediscover a purpose bigger than ourselves, passion returns.
When we begin serving others, faith comes alive again.

The question is simple.

Are we willing to step out of the boat?

Are we willing to answer the charge to keep?

Because when we do, God doesn’t just change our lives—he uses us to change the world.