What Does Catholicism Say About Procrastination?
One can sin against God’s love in various ways: …
— acedia or spiritual sloth goes so far as to refuse the joy that comes from God and to be repelled by divine goodness. — Catechism of the Catholic Church (N. 2094)
Let the idleness of vain imaginations be put to flight, let go of sloth, hold fast to diligence. Be instant in holy meditations, cleave to the good things which are of God: leaving that which is temporal, give heed to that which is eternal … the sweet contemplations of thy Creator’s immeasurable benefits toward thee.
— St. Anselm of Canterbury
God has promised forgiveness to your repentance, but He has not promised tomorrow to your procrastination.
— St. Augustine
The appetite of the sluggard craves but has nothing, but the appetite of the diligent is amply satisfied.
— Proverbs 13:4 (NAB)
—
How Do We Break the Pattern, or Habit, of Procrastination?
Begin: I don’t know whether I heard it from one of my forthright Irish aunties or from a film version of Agatha Christie’s hardy Miss Marple, but in my memory resides the voice of an older woman pronouncing six words that always made great sense to me: “Begin as you mean to continue!” It’s good advice that orders us to do the hardest part first: Begin! Just walk up to the thing you know you want to do, but are dawdling about, and get started. Once you connect with the divine spark within you — that giftedness that inspired the project idea to start with — the chances are you will discover that you’re enjoying yourself, that you’re glad you’ve begun, and that the thing really isn’t terribly difficult at all. How sad that it has taken me the better part of my life to realize this.
Do not be afraid: Now that we’ve established that there is an element of fear connected to our procrastination, we can acknowledge it, identify what precisely it is that we are afraid of, and then push through that fear, confident in the knowledge that whenever we consent to a co-creative engagement with God and the gifts he has bestowed upon us — whether we do it immediately, like Mary, or after some reluctant dawdling, like Augustine — we can trust God with the outcome. We know that our acquiescent engagement with what is before us will not leave us deprived of anything but, rather, enriched in surprising ways because that is how God works. As Teresa of Ávila said, “God withholds himself from no one who perseveres.”
Hand your hesitancy off to heaven: St. Benedict of Nursia recommended to his monks that before undertaking anything — be it cooking, studying, or even a leisurely walk — they first offer a short prayer, asking God’s blessings upon the focus of their energies. We don’t do this enough, and that is particularly sad when you consider that we have heaven and its occupants at our disposal. Our guardian angels are always with us, and if we ask for their assistance it is always given; the saints in heaven are assigned patronages to assure that we are never left without spiritual guidance and intercessory prayers, no matter what the task. So, if you are putting off going to confession, St. John Vianney’s companionship is yours for the claiming. When my husband put off a woodworking project for several years, I gave up asking. Consigning him to the intercession of St. Joseph was effective in finally getting things started. As I have buckled down to write this book, my icon of St. Francis de Sales, patron of writers and journalists, has been ever before me, and I only wish that the tale of St. Expeditus were true. In Latin America, Expeditus is usually depicted holding aloft a cross, inscribed with the word hodie (Latin, “today”), while simultaneously stomping on a crow (or, sometimes, a snake) labeled cras (Latin, “tomorrow”). In Germany, he points at a clock, reminding us not to waste time. No “Mañana, baby” for him!
Regrettably, the hagiography of Expeditus is one of those delightful bits of bungling that occur within a 2,000-year history of a worldwide church. According to John Delaney’s Dictionary of Saints, Expeditus may have been created by some nuns whose Latin was a bit shaky.
St. Expeditus (no date), Patron saint of UPS, FEDEX, DHL, and USPS?
“Mentioned in the Roman Martyrology as one of a group of martyrs who were executed in Militene, Armenia, there is no proof he ever existed. The popular devotion to him may have mistakenly developed when a crate of holy relics from the Catacombs in Rome to a convent in Paris was mistakenly identified by the recipients as St. Expeditus by the word expedito written on the crate. They began to propagate devotion to the imagined saint as the saint to be invoked to expedite matters, and the cult soon spread. [Feast day,] April 19” (Dictionary of Saints, by John Delaney).
I confess, I love the idea of a St. Expeditus, dedicated to helping us deal with the little sin of putting things off — but, lacking him, perhaps St. Augustine will do, coupled with St. Jude Thaddeus, the patron of desperate causes.
Pray (This prayer or your own)
Lord, you created the universe on the strength of your own intention, and sustain the world throughout space and time, which, for you, are neither linear nor limited. Please look upon me, your sometimes time-and-space-challenged child, with patience. Help me to overcome the fears and bad habits that so often prevent me from setting to the tasks you have placed before me, that I might know and serve you better. All good things come from you, and the requests for my help, for my assistance, and for my participation in the world and among my neighbors are good things I need to better appreciate. In your mercy, give me the strength, the energy, the firmness of resolve, and the trust I need so that I might move forward into my work, at the center of which I will discover the depths of your mysterious love for me. I ask this, as ever, in the name of your Son, Christ Jesus. Amen.
—
St. Augustine and St. Jude Thaddeus, unofficial patrons of slacking-off procrastinators,
Ora pro nobis; ora pro me!
Chapter Two
Excessive Self-Interest
But enough about me, let’s talk about you. What do you think of my children? Aren’t they cute? — One of your friends (or, uh, you?)
Have you ever shared something of yourself with someone else — something meaningful and life-affecting — and had the person you’re talking to say, “Oh, that happened to me,” and who then proceeded to turn the conversation to herself?
It’s certainly happened to me, and more than once. I’m sure it has happened to you. Every young couple excitedly anticipating their wedding or the birth of a child has had the experience of announcing their happy news (or sharing their anxieties) only to be regaled with stories from well-meaning people who can’t wait to share their own experiences, and they’re usually cautionary tales (“Let me tell you about Italian mothers-in-law; your meatballs will never be right!”) or outright horror stories (“Thirty-six hours I was in labor, and I didn’t just have front labor, I had back labor; I had thigh labor; I never screamed so much!”).
Over the years, it has seemed to me there might be some element of mischief to all of these stories — I am positive that one of my aunties took secret delight in turning my husband pale with her stories of projectile vomiting, overflowing diapers with neon-colored offerings, and well-intentioned
