Amy Grant’s 2008 song, “I Need a Silent Night,” resonates with those of us who feel frazzled at this time of year. Unlike many of her soft Christmas ballads, this song is an anthem of the tired and overextended at holiday time: I’ve made the same mistake before:

Too many malls, too many stores December traffic, Christmas rush It breaks me till I push and shove

Malls have mostly given way to online shopping, but I don’t think Amy’s desire for peace in the busyness of the season is any less relevant:

I need a silent night, a holy night To hear an angel voice through the chaos and the noise I need a midnight clear, a little peace right here To end this crazy day with a silent night

When I’m tired from forging ahead with a long to-do list, I’m especially prone to sinning against patience and charity.

But realizing sadly at the end of a long day of shopping, baking and concerts, that we haven’t taken time with God, we could be susceptible to more serious sin obscuring the real preparations of the season, for Christ’s coming. As good as our intentions are, striving to create a “Capital Christmas” could actually put us at risk of falling into capital sins of gluttony and sloth.

At Christmastime, the sin of gluttony is most often associated with eating and drinking to excess during feasts. Our culture encourages, if not lauds, this sin. In truth, Scripture says it is the cause of death for many (Sirach 37:30-31).

Along with eating and drinking too much, I submit that overdoing it with holiday plans and preparations, shopping and cooking, may also be gluttonous.

According to St. Thomas Aquinas in his Summa Theologiae, “Gluttony denotes, not any desire of eating and drinking, but an inordinate desire. Now desire is said to be inordinate through leaving the order of reason, wherein the good of moral virtue consists: and a thing is said to be a sin through being contrary to virtue.”

Is it possible that we may sometimes have inordinate desires for all that we do at this time of year, including decorating, baking, entertaining, cooking, gift buying, wrapping, card writing, and caroling?

With zeal to get everything done, I admit that I sometimes forget to consult God with my Saturday plans. When I don’t make time for him in the busyness of activities and preparations, I, like Amy Grant, seek a “Silent Night” after a “crazy day.” Unfortunately, sleep often takes over, and instead of a conversation with me, God gets the silence.

There’s another sin we’re especially tempted by at this time of year that goes along with not putting God on our to-do list. We can be prone to spiritual sorrow, also known as sloth or acedia.

Sloth is most often associated with laziness. Just as we’d balk at the idea of being considered gluttonous when we’re too busy to eat, holiday overachievers who don’t take time to rest would never consider themselves slothful.

But sloth truly involves not finding pleasure in spiritual things. “Sloth, as we understand it here, denotes sorrow for spiritual good,” St. Thomas wrote.

If we find no joy in spiritual pleasures, we have recourse to pleasures of the body, said St. Thomas, quoting the philosopher Aristotle.

If we don’t feel like praying, there are so many other things that need to be done!

I know I’ve hit a point in past years of Christmas rush when I feel sad, knowing I’m behind on prayer and wondering if I’m missing the meaning of it all.

But finding that meaning doesn’t often come from “hearing an angel voice” or experiencing a “midnight clear.”

What St. John of the Cross called “spiritual gluttony” in his The Dark Night of the Soul is regularly seeking sensible sweetness in prayer and other acts of religion. St. John denounced the desire to “feel and taste God, as if he were palpable and accessible to them not only in Communion but in all their other acts of devotion.”

Whether or not we receive a palpable response, pausing before, during and after a busy day to talk to God keeps us connected and less prone to spiritual sadness.

Moderation and caring for others are common in monastic life where prayer is in the rhythm of life.

In his rule, St. Benedict outlines a daily schedule of prayer and work whose rhythm of daily life “forms us into what Christ has called us to be, which is men seeking holiness and constant conversion towards God. It is through our common life together of prayer, work, lectio, and community that we are made whole.”

The Rule of St. Augustine calls for performing tasks for the benefit of the community. “Whenever you show greater concern for the common good than for your own, you may know that you are growing in charity.”

The main reason we work so hard at Christmas is to bring joy to others. By keeping God in the conversation, seeking moderation and letting him show us what we’re really preparing for will bring more joy to everyone.