The Deadlies: Sloth

Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down 

and thrown into the fire.

                 Matthew 7:19 

 

This one took considerable thought, especially in my current situation. Images of sloth often show a man on a hammock ostensibly doing nothing. That man, however, might well be deep in prayer, busy working out a problem, or giving his system much needed rest in order to carry out his responsibilities. On the other hand his super busy neighbor might use work to avoid doing the spiritual or temporal good he is called to do.

In my current situation resting is what I need to do. The trauma of a double grief requires healing and rest, but that doesn't mean I'm neglecting prayer—at least I'm trying not to. Nor is it an excuse to neglect kindness when I have an opportunity to do it.

Aquinas wrote that sloth destroys the spiritual life because it stands in opposition to love--to charity. It is a sin of neglect, causing us to fail to do the good we're called to do. 

Sloth could be defined as wasting time that could be given to God. As some writers have indicated it is a sin of omission, the failure whether through laziness or fear to do good. 

 Neglect can take many forms—failure to pray, failure to take part in sacrament, failure to do domestic responsibilities, failure to care for others. Lying under it is a failure to rely on God's strength and grace, to be trapped in your own "woe is me." The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that spiritual sloth can go so far as to refuse the joy that comes from God!

In that sense, it sounds more related to depression, or more accurately, to refuse God's help when in the throes of clinical depression. I've been there too.

In the end I think it is "deadly" because of the good it causes us to neglect. Matthew 25 tells us quite clearly that at the last judgement we will be accountable for the good we do, and what we fail to do. The failure is sloth.

 

 

The Deadlies: Gluttony

 

Their end is destruction whose god is their stomach, whose glory is in their shame, who set their minds on earthly things. 

Phillipians 3:19

What do you think of when I type GLUTTONY? A morbidly obese person as in the picture? A Roman orgy with people gorging on rich foods and purging so they can eat more?

Think again.

What about the second slice of pie? The third glass of wine? The extra pork chop your brother was eying? And where does excessive dieting fit? Here or in pride? We live in an era in which body image is such an obsession people stop thinking clearly about food. Health can be an obsession that leads to dietary compulsions and fixations as well. I suspect that whenever we focus on eating as an end in itself for whatever reason we've crossed into the gluttony zone.

That last line in the quote strikes me as critical. The problem is not what we eat or how much but the extent to which we set our minds on earthly things, making food or drink an end in itself.

We obviously need to eat and the God who made us (as the Gospels attest) doesn't begrudge us a good meal or fine wine. A good meal can satisfy the body's need for healthy nutrition. It can also draw families and communities together in shared harmony. Eating and drinking in that sense can be virtuous. All the more so when we remember to be grateful to God for it. Gratitude is probably the greatest antidote to gluttony.

There are other forms of gluttony, however. Addictions certainly fall under this banner, whether they be drugs, excessive exercise, video games, or any other obsession that becomes a god in itself. 

If gratitude is one counterbalance to gluttony, the other is moderation. Keep our eyes on minds on the things of God, and exercise moderation in all things.

The Deadlies!

There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him 

                        Proverbs 6:12-19


A few months ago I wrote about sin, in which I lamented the Church's historical tendency to "a way of thinking that sliced and diced, analyzed and categorized sin into smaller and smaller bits. I spoke of the relationship of petty sin to petty virtue. What I failed to say in my previous essay is that guilt is pointless. It is guilt that the Church is often accused of fostering by this pettiness, and to some extent that may be a fair judgement. Guilt is a kind of self-centered wallowing. Repentance, on the other hand, is an outward turning reach for The Other, a turning away from what pulls you down. The fundamental necessity is to empty ourselves in order to be filled with the love of Christ, not to keep, no never that, but to be overflowing into the world around us.

The poet, Sara Teasdale, put it this way:

Child, child, love while you may,

For life is short as a happy day;

Never fear the thing you feel-

Only by love is life made real;

Love, for the deadly sins are seven,

Only through love will you enter heaven.

Whether she intended it or not, love is presented as the antidote to sin.

But of what do we empty ourselves? What is it that I should be repenting? It came to me in prayer this week that my starting point for my pondering about repentance and the Sacrament of Reconciliation might have a starting point in the traditional Seven Deadly Sins, the deeper, underlying habits of action or thought that lay behind the things we do.

The list has a long history. Our current version was solidified by Saint Gregory I in 590, but it has its roots in the Egyptian monastic movement two centuries before. The concept is even older. Greek and Roman philosophers long pondered patterns of thought and habit that lay behind a lack of virtue. Aristotle wrote extensively on virtue and saw vice as a existing in mirror image to virtue (Courage he thought, for example, is a virtue, but too much is recklessness and too little cowardice.)

I've begun to think of the list as descriptions of the barriers, the blockage, that keeps me from emptying and fully entering into the life of Christ. So what are they? The traditional list is:

1. Lust
2. Gluttony
3. Greed
4. Sloth
5. Wrath
6. Envy
7. Pride

Is Lust first because it is most important? Heck no. This list is actually in reverse order from the weakest, least important cause of sin to the most harmful, the most deadly. In my next entries I'll go through them in this order, however. Number one is the one most people obsess on, and/or accuse the church of obsessing on. I've read sins which could be placed under the general banner of lust are the ones most commonly confessed, at least by men. That alone tells me we haven't reached a particularly broad understanding of the things that keep us from God!

Over my next posts I'll ponder them one by one in the traditional order, and ponder also the related virtues and good, the way in which love is the antidote to sin.

An Open Letter to the Church in the Face of Abuse Scandals

To: Cardinal Daniel N. DiNardo and bishops collectively as the USCCB

Denying sin is self-deception.

If we say, “We are without sin,” we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we acknowledge our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrongdoing. If we say, “We have not sinned," we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. (1John: 1:8-10)

This passage slapped me in the face this morning during morning prayer, when struggling, as I have been lately with faith in the governance of my church. Please note I do not struggle with faith in the mystical body, real presence, or the Nicene creed. I certainly do not struggle with faith in our all loving and merciful God. I only struggle with, well, you. 

I write in the face of scandals, plural. In spite of revelation after revelation of crime and cover-up, I, like many of the faithful who sit in your pews, have very little evidence of any real change. Neither slick statements written by image experts and lawyers nor half-baked apologies from the bishops sitting on their thrones at the altar have shown any real repentence. Real repentence requires acknowledgement of guilt.

Our church no longer requires public penance. Perhaps we should. For clergy who abuse children or adults over who they have authority, public penance consists of facing the police and the courts and—pray God—admission of guilt.

You however—every one of you who have in any way covered up, brushed aside, hidden, or mismanaged cases of abuse—have yet to face adequate consequences. The financial consquences will be paid by the faithful, not by you. Bring them on! Personally, i think that if we're forced to sell every asset we have and go back to meeting in homes and public places, so be it. Perhaps the energy of the early church may come back.

Sins so public require public penance. Everyone of you who has abused church power in this way should strip off your robes and badges of office, go down on your knees in front of your cathedrals—and maybe the churches of every parish in your diocese—and beg God's forgiveness and ours.

My faith tells me I have to forgive. I'm working on that. It also teaches me that if you wish to have God's forgiveness you have to admit the sin. Pleased do,

Carol Roddy