The Deadlies: Envy

 

You shall not covet...anything that is your neighbors'.

Exodus 2:17, Deuteronomy 5:21

 

 

 An earlier post listed the seven deadly sins in rough order from least to most harmful. Envy resides near the bottom; it is one of the worst. Only pride is more insidious and harmful to the spiritual life than envy.

The scriptures' list of the things we ought not covet focuses on belongings: their house, their fields, their servants, their ox, and of course their wife. Alas, in ancient times, the wife was often considered as much a belonging as the herds, or close to.

In fact, envy can infest every part of our life. We may envy belongings, career, success, travel, position in the parish or company, popularity, fame, rewards, and so on. Worse, we  may envy romantic relationships or apparently successful marriages. We may come to envy families that appear to be happier or healthier than our own. We may envy others' dedication to exercise, healthy diet, or volunteer work. We may, in fact, envy virtue. It is an insidious trait.

Saint Augustine rated it as particularly diabolical. He wrote, "From envy are born hatred, detraction, calumny, joy caused by the misfortune of a neighbor, and displeasure caused by his prosperity."

Envy is one of those sins that embeds itself deep in the soul where it festers and grows before it even comes to our attention in the form of specific behaviors or resentments. Like all the deadly sins, it may grow unnoticed, damaging us from within.

The catechism teaches that envy is a form of sadness, and therefore a refusal of charity. When it reaches the point it causes us to actively wish harm on another, it has become truly mortal to the soul.

What is the cure? Repentance, of course. Reconciliation when needed. Then active charity. Turn to the sixth chapter of Luke. "Do good to those who hate you." Hate you? Do good to all. Go out of your way to do good to someone when resentment towards them builds up in your heart. If you've harmed them, make restitution. Pray for them.

The green eyed monster graphic is by Polina Sokolvav, Creative Commons 3.0 license, via Wikimedia Commons

 

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.

 

 

Grief Six: a Step Back

 

Your word is a lamp to my feet...

                        Psalm 119 

 Check up today:

Prayers — going well

Remembering God's presence—yes 

Daily Bible—fair

Sleep—moderately good

Depression—still there but mild

Energy—meh

Motivation—none (see below)

Walking—going well

Writing—up and down

Hip stretching—er...not so good

Reading—lots

Video Games—had to cut back

House keeping—not terrible

Not much else to report. File the rest under "Be kind to yourself." 

There will be no vegetable garden this year. Hired someone to help clean up flower beds. Plan to do some planting. I would like to do a Swedish Death Cleanse and get rid of half my belongings, but perhaps not this year. The basement files are begging for attention. Some things boxed for church rummage sale. Thinking about jumping in the car and going to visit Pam in Columbus. May do it.

Stay with me Lord for I am small and alone and there is darkness.

Grief 5: Peace

 As soon as I lie down, I fall peacefully asleep, for you alone, O LORD, bring security to my dwelling.

Psalm 4 

 

 

 

 

 

Perhaps it is the glorious sunshine, or the warmth in the air. Perhaps it is my beautiful daffodils—or the music of Easter—but today is a joyful one. OR maybe the privilege of being a Eucharistic minister today.

My last counseling session was simple and good. I think I've come to terms with the nature of grief.  It isn't collapsing in pain or uncontrollable tears. There is some sadness, yes, but not a debilitating amount. Regret? Not over my marriage, but I'm letting go of some over parenthood.

 

My grief is more general malaise and weariness as I adjust to new realities and expectations. It is an inability to imagine the future, which is undoubtedly a good thing. It is work, but it is manageable and it will pass. For now—one day at a time, one step at a time.

 

And I'm remembering His "word is a lamp unto my feet."

Grief 4: Life and Death

 

We had a glorious Easter—Alleluias, soaring music, sunshine, flowers, and warmth. I was reminded, though, that in order to have Easter, you must have Good Friday first. As CS Lewis famously said, "The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That is the deal."

My readers are probably aware this has been a difficult year. You may not know I lost both one of my daughters and my Beloved of 54 years in a space of three weeks at the beginning of the year. It is a lot to swallow. It will take a good long year of mourning before I can approach normal, if then.

This weekend I discovered the concept of "widow brain," a state that includes brain fog and fatigue. there is a growing body of science about the impact of loss on brain function. My whole brain is building new pathways and struggling with old ones. It explained a lot. Every thing I do from the time I get up until i go to bed (and especially then) is new and different. Expected stimuli are missing, new ones forming. No wonder I'm exhausted.

I continue to write daily, or try at least. This week I'm flying off to visit family. They live at an airport in a condo facing a pond visited by migrating birds. It will be a good break. This morning, I have to pack. And write. But first, coffee!

(This was originally posted on Caroline Warfield's blog. Caroline is Carol's pseudonym for novel writing.)

The Deadlies: Wrath

Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander,    together with all malice...  

                                                                                    Ephesians 4:31

I am skipping Sloth for now because this one has been with me during my Lenten pondering this year. What is wrath? Though it is a synonym for anger, it is sometimes defined as forceful, vindictive anger. It implies resentment and vengeance.

It struck me recently that it is a good example for explaining the difference between petty sins and big sin. It is one thing to confess, time after time, "I snapped at my sister-in-law at a gathering" or "I yelled at my husband three times." It is quite another to dig out deep-seated long-term resentment and anger that lies under those frequent sins and pull it up by its roots. Without God's help, we have no hope of doing that. The snapping and yelling are manifestations of the sin we may be harboring.

Saint Gregory of Nyssa wrote about the origin of sin by saying anger produces murder and therefore it should be killed when it starts to avoid growing into the greater evil. We have to root it out.

the producer of evil gives birth to lust before adultery and anger before murder, in destroying the firstborn he certainly kills along with it the offspring which follows. (Nyssa, The Life of Moses)

To pull out anger and resentment, to foster forgiveness and love, is to contribute to the store of peace in the world. To harbor it is to contribute to the store of wrath. As I write this war is raging in Israel and Gaza, in Ukraine, in central Africa, in Haiti, and threatening in many other places as if Wrath is unleashed and the Enemy has free rein. We can pray for peace, and we can work for it too.

Grief 3: Alone

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4

I've never lived alone before. The quiet is deafening, hence the need for the TV to be on. I'm talking to Ambrose, the bear every day. SIGH.

It occurred to me yesterday that I am reluctant to wake up in the morning. I get a decent night's sleep, wake at 7:30 or 8, and then roll over, letting melatonin hangover drop me back into dreams. I've been sleeping until 10! I may be using my need for sleep after hospice (which is very real) as an excuse to avoid getting up to an empty house.

I've also been pondering advance grief. Is it possible I'm finished already? I was relatively calm when the decision for hospice was made because Greg and I had had suspected heart failure all along. Dr. Yasmajian thinks not. She suspects that caregivers frequently experience relief in the immediate aftermath of death that masks other things and grief can come in a wave later. Everyone grieves differently. We'll see.

Meanwhile, I walk with God every day. I'm not alone.

Two Hours Later...

Walking out on a nippy afternoon, I thought about something else, the hermit saints. Starting with Anthony of Egypt to Thomas Merton we have a whole history of people being called to solitude. I am not one of them. I've never felt a strong contemplative call. I was called to marriage and family. So what are God's plans for me in widowhood? I'll find out eventually.

Grief 2: One step

I do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me.

Cardinal Newman

 

 Another day and again I ask what am I to do. I've begun to write, and I put that in God's hands. Does He want me to spend my time or part of it writing novels of love and romance? Seems trivial, but then, he's never asked me to step out of the domestic sphere. The world of marriage and family is where he put me. It is the one thing he actually said to me. But without Greg...

I think of Greg with a smile, and I carry around a bear made of one of his shirts. I feel like a whole new life is flickering awake for me. I have no idea what it will bring. And what role with Rachel's sudden passing play? No idea.

One step...

Grief 1: Thy Will Be Done

Whenever we imagine we are in control of life—our own or someone else's—we have fallen prey to the ancient whisper in the Garden: "You shall be like gods."

Magnificat, Vol 24 Number 12, February 27, 2024

It is now forty-one days since my Beloved, my love for 54 years slipped gently away to God.  Suffering with his heart for all of his eighty years, it finally gave out after two particularly long difficult years of care. The last six months of in-home hospice care were a blessing. Every day from our anniversary July 26 until his death I knew exactly what God expected of me--caring for my husband round the clock. It was the longest period in my life when my calling was brilliantly clear. Every moment of it was a blessing.

Greg always said God would take him when He was ready and was perfectly at peace. We had lived every day of the last thirty years since the last crisis as if it could be our last. We had no regrets or work undone. we had traveled and spent endless time enjoying one another. We'd moved to be close to our Grandson and took full advantage of it. After some years of terrible estrangement, we had reconciled with our middle child, Rachel, and had her close for the last five years, seeing her at least weekly.

And then, God took Rachel too. On Christmas Eve. We had two funerals in three weeks. The burden of that added to months of sleepless and endlessly interrupted nights, left me numb. The exhaustion remains, and I still haven't relearned how to sleep through the night.  I still haven't cried or crumbled.

My calm concerned me. The counselor I'm seeing pointed out there is no one right way to grieve. Perhaps I was just ready. Perhaps Greg's faith and strength in the face of death sustain me. We'll see.

I've never lived alone before. I'm taking it one day at a time. I offer my day to God every morning. My theme song is now "Lead Kindly Light..."

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th’encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

Yep. That was me. Telling God what I was going to do for him and never waiting to listen. I am so trying to wake up every morning and give my day, that one day, over to his will. I did that yesterday, and he gave me...  MICE. I'll be dealing with the mess in my garage for a long while. Such is real life.  

The Deadlies: Greed

 Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God.

Matthew 5:3

This one is both obvious and subtle. I scanned various writers for ideas and found a sea of things:

1. Hands full of gold cannot reach for God. In other words, filling ourselves with wealth as our aim and goal leaves no room for God in our hearts and souls. Greed is a form of idolatry. 
2. Overabundance, while others go hungry, is a sin against charity.
3. If you have two shirts in your closet, one belongs to you and the other to the man who has no shirt. (That gem is from Saint Ambrose)
4. Wealth isn't in and of itself evil, it is the heart of man that is the problem.

Greed is the great American sin. I refer to the CEOs who take multi-million dollar bonuses while laying off workers.  I refer to those who refuse to tax the rich and call attempts to help the poor "socialism." But I also believe it infests us all on every economic level-the striving, the focus on "security," the striving for promotions, and the need to accumulate savings for a future that may or may not arrive.

We all work to live. The key problem words are focus and goal. When wealth takes up our deepest striving we are in trouble.

When generosity is weakened, we are in trouble. Even a cursory reading of the Gospels makes it clear that God has a preference for the poor and values generosity. Yet, our culture has a dozen ways to discourage charity. Don't give to panhandlers, they are fake or they will use it for drugs. How do you know that charity is legitimate? Don't enable that nephew, he'll fail again. You name it.

When anything takes our focus off God, we're in trouble. The great commandments are "Love the Lord your God with your whole heart" and "Love your neighbor as yourself." Greed is a sin against both of those.

Last but not least I cycle back to the poor in spirit. It doesn't mean going to the extreme and selling all you have as Jesus advised the rich young man (though that could be a heroic good, provided God led you to it). It does mean treating your wealth as on loan from God for his purposes, and being indifferent to it as it applies to your own sake. 

The Boy With the Fish

 

"There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?"

                                                  John 6:9  

         

  Aside from the Resurrection, the feeding of the 5000 is the only miracle recounted in all four gospels. It is interesting to me that it is about feeding the hungry. Generally in this story and its commentary (such as the homily at today's Mass) the focus is on the apostles and their relative faith or lack of it, on their questioning. It struck me this morning that my position is more like the boy with the fish.

He didn't understand the big picture

He knew he couldn't solve the problem of 5,000 hungry people

He knew he couldn't fix the world around him

He wasn't an apostle or any sort of important official

BUT

He didn't sit quietly feeling helpless

He didn't ask questions

He did the good he could

He generously offered what little he had

From that Jesus, who is the person whose job it is to save the world, fed the multitude while the apostles did the big job of distributing. And the boy? I suspect he sat quietly while it happened,

In the great Theo-drama of salvation history past, present, and future, my role is tiny, but He expects me to do the good I can in the place where He has put me, for the people He has sent, with the gifts He has given me.

It's pretty simple in the end.

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: Lust

 For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world.   1 John 2:16

In my last post, I spoke of the underlying habits of action and thought that keep us full of the world and the flesh and prevent us from emptying ourselves to allow God to enter into us and fill our souls—the big seven that separate us from God.

Lust isn't as destructive as pride for instance but it is pervasive, and the one many people obsess on, and/or accuse the church of obsessing on, so it seems like a good starting point. I begin with a definition from the Catechism of the Catholic Church: 

Lust is disordered desire for or inordinate enjoyment of sexual pleasure when sought for itself, isolated from its procreative and unitive purposes.

Legalistic that, full of careful adjectives. Clearly, it doesn't refer to all desire or all sexual pleasure, but the specific list of sins related to lust is so long and sometimes detailed, people forget the underlying good, the thing that sin overturns. Let's begin with that.

Sexuality is a fundamental aspect of humanity, hard-wired into our bodies exactly as God made them. What was the Creator up to? Well. Reproduction for one. The mechanics of attraction/arousal/intercourse are designed to make babies, but it isn't that simple. A world in which the only acceptable sexual act is one likely to (or as we used to be taught "open to") reproduction puts sexuality in a narrow box devoid of joy and surely much less than God intended.

Sex is many things. Fun for one. That had to be part of the plan. Pleasurable as one. That also was intended. Desire, that complex function of human relationships, involves the mind and heart as well as reproductive organs. The joy and intimacy that come from sexual activity bind two people as closely as is humanly possible--two in one flesh. The act itself is—or should be— a sign and symbol of deep spiritual communion. That's that "unitive" business in the definition.

So, it's basic to being human. Where does it go wrong? Sexuality is intended by God to be used not just enthusiastically but also generously, as an act of giving. The very act of sexual intercourse works best when both parties are giving to the other. Giving, not taking. Yes, reproduction /fecundity is one form of generosity. So is caring for the pleasure, joy, and well-being of the partner.

Remember that long list of sins? They all present some sort of self-centered use of sexuality on a continuum from seemingly innocuous forms of self-indulgence through various levels of exploitation of other people to forced sex of any kind under any circumstances. Why do the little ones matter? Little sin leads to big sin.

In the middle of this is marriage. Commitment not only provides a safe haven for raising children, but it also provides a safe haven for sexual partners, a platform of trust that enables maximum openness and vulnerability to one another. Fidelity to that commitment is another act of generous self-giving.

Few of us can live this ideal perfectly. We're selfish beings, all struggling along that path to full self-giving. I write romance novels in another part of my life. Every one of them explores the dance of attraction and desire with patterns of selfishness and self-giving, character flaws, and challenges. They all end with the self-giving commitment that is marriage, but the road is sometimes rocky. As a result, I think a lot about healthy relationships.  Recently I saw a quote from Pope Francis (on his @pontifax Twitter account!) that struck me as a good guideline:

Where love becomes tangible, becomes closeness, becomes tenderness, becomes compassion, God is there.

In regard to sexuality as in all things, we should be thinking about what can I give, how can I help, and what is the good of the other—rather than how far can I go, how much is ok, and what can I have?

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.

Post-Roe Confusion and Grief

Then the man of God began to weep. (2Kings 8:11)

I grieve. I have never been able to comprehend the hard positions over abortion, the binary world of all this or all that. The human, political, spiritual and ethical issues are much too complex for the sign waving, name calling, rush-to-the-extremes mess we have now. Sides have hardened again, as if at war with one another at the expense of both women and babies and I grieve. We're plunging into chaotic positioning in every state. There is much I don't understand and I have questions—many, many questions—some have been with me for a long time.

•  How can someone call themselves pro-life and oppose universal health care especially for women and children?
• Why doesn't supporting health care get the same energy as criminalizing abortion?
• How can someone call themselves pro-life and support allowing eighteen year olds to obtain military grade weapons with few if any controls?
• How indeed can they call themselves pro-life and refuse to allow common sense gun laws of any kind?
• How can people call themselves pro-life and attack or vandalize people who disagree?
• Are the lives of the unborn somehow more valuable than the lives of children in a fourth grade classroom, or teenagers on the streets of Philadelphia?
• How can the pro-life political movement call measures to prevent abortion, especially for poor mothers, a "distraction" from criminalization?
• Isn't hunger a pro-life issue as well? Don't mothers need to feed their babies?
• Isn't a living wage for families a pro-life issue for that matter?
• Where are the pregnancy support services?
• How can a pro-life position include no exceptions, even for the life of a mother?
• Where the pro-life voices advocating for women's absolute control over their own bodies up to the point of conception?
• Do women really believe that legal abortion protects them from abuse and neglect of their bodies?
• When did abortion become the end all and be all of women's rights, pulling all the passion and energy from other things--equal pay, adequate medical services, domestic violence, rape prevention and care, living wage?
• Has that laser focus on one issue actually harmed progress on women's rights?
• When did abortion become become "reproductive health," as if it were simple birth control or a substitute for fully robust women's health care?
• How did the unborn begin to be defined away as non-human even though each has unique human DNA at conception and is viable by the sixth month? Why?
• How can people demand "choice" and vilify people who disagree with their positions, even to the point of violence?
• How did we get from 'safe, legal, and rare,' to 'anyone, for any reason, at any stage of pregnancy?'
• Is abortion the BEST we can offer desperate poor women? Seriously?
• if we give ourselves the right to define who is human and who is not what are the implications for the infirm, the disabled, the elderly? 

• When did the rights of one person include the right to take other rights from other people?
• How do legal protections for the unborn harm women who also need protection?
• How is late term abortion not infanticide when those little people are capable of their own unique lives?
• How did we get into this mess?

We seem to be at war. The first casualties in war are truth and common sense. Those who attempt to stand in the middle end up shot full of arrows. I expect no less with his post. I grieve and can only pray.

On Sin

 If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

1John: 8-9

Recently a friend lamented some of the Church's failures, among them, focus on sin. I sympathize. Bishop Barron has said that leading with sin or leading with rules is a sure way to drive people from the churches. Two words are important in those two sentences, "focus" and "leading." The focus ought to be on our friendship with Christ, on His love and mercy. We should lead with that.

But wait. Mercy? Doesn't that imply we need it?

We live in an era in which the very word sin is frowned over. Someone very close to me announced—after following a new age spiritually program—that sin doesn't exist, it is a human construct. My answer to that was, "Have you read the newspaper?" On the other hand, many of us grew up under a form of Catholic practice overburdened with scrupulosity and narrowness, and we need to toss that off.

Does sin exist? Heck yes. It isn't hard to identify the things that are not of God if we look around.

• Chaos
• Violence
• Hatred
• Vengeance
• Inhumanity
• War
• Homelessness
• Starvation
• Domestic abuse
• Tribalism--any system that puts people in boxes

Sin in human nature, the nature we share, is all around us. Since the war in Ukraine its easy to feel like we're staring into Dante's Inferno. We have to wonder what we—each of us—does, no matter how small, to contribute the the world's share of those things that are not of God,

A more famous list are the traditional Seven Deadly Sins. We get the seven deadlies from the desert fathers by way of medieval practice and Dante. They have a pretty good handle on human nature, and they add the self indulgent ones to the violent ones: Anger, envy, greed, pride, sloth, gluttony, lust. It's a reasonable list of the dark underbelly of human nature.

So, if sin permeates human nature, what is wrong with the church's focus on sin, aside from bad PR? A lot.

Over the centuries the focus on individual sins (plural, as opposed to sinfulness) led to a way of thinking that sliced and diced, analyzed and categorized sin into smaller and smaller bits, mostly aimed at the confessional. There are three big things wrong with that.

1. It is ego-centric. The my sins/my perfection/my salvation point of view is a trap in the spiritual life. We are by nature self centered critters prone to view all of life—including spiritual life—as our own story. It isn't. It is God's story. Barron calls it the Theodrama. Our failings are myriad. In themselves they turn us inward on ourselves. Failing to acknowledge them is bad, but so is obsessing over them. God already knows we fail; He just wants us to admit it and turn to him. Focus on our petty little failings can become an exercise in selfish pride, in which we fail to keep our eyes on God and his mercy--and the grace he gives ups to be bigger than that. 

2. We make too much of the small stuff. Petty sin is the flip side of petty virtue. We're meant to live life fully with great courage and great virtue. The more risk we take the more danger we may fall into. The failures may be bigger. But oh! the opportunity for great love.

3, Clericalism. There is an arrogance and judgement in the church's approach to the sins of individuals--in some places, by some teachers, by some clerics. That's the institutional version of turning in on oneself and taking our eyes off Christ. It is extremely destructive. The issue of the sins of the institution itself, requiring public acknowledgment and reform, is another subject, one that undermines the role of priest as intermediary big time.

But what about the reality of sin? Yep. It's out there and in me to--insofar as I am human I am part of the human condition. Lately I'm asking myself what is repentance, and what do I need to repent? A couple of things have occurred to me. One has to do with the story of the rich young man in the gospels. He obviously had managed to avoid the big stuff. Jesus said, well, then give everything to the poor. Now, most of us fall somewhere between anger/violence/hatred and full on Saint Francis give all to the poor. Maybe where we fall on the selflessness continuum is where our need for mercy lies.

 I use an examination of conscience that begins with "Is God first in my life?" and moves on from there. As Jesus said there are two laws, "Love the Lord your God with your whole heart," and "Love your neighbor (aka everyone he puts in your path) as yourself." Sin is everything turns me--turns each one of us--away from those two laws in on ourselves and away from God. Mistakes made while attempting some ill conceived sort of love and generosity are likely more forgivable than pitiful little acts of greed and selfish indulgence. Its a work in progress, and I can't do it on my own. I require the graces He gives.

Saint Irenaeus said "The Glory of God is a living man" (sometimes translated as a man "fully alive") He goes on to say “the life of a man is the vision of God." In other words, the glory of God is a man who lives a grace filled life, here and in the next life.

Sin exists, sorry about that. The necessity for redemption is all around us. It had to happen. Thank Him. Love Him. We empty ourselves to be made full of Christ. That's the anti-sin. 

Next time? Reconciliation.

Photos

1. Grief by Bertram Mckennal

2. The Dark and the Light of Rosh Hanikra, photo by Christopher Down, CC BY 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

The Fruits: Self-control

 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things, there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

Last but not least: self-control. We struggle. I struggle. Even Saint Paul said "I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do." (Romans 7: 18-19)

That brings us back to where I started.  The fruits of the spirit are those things that manifest themselves in our lives when we've surrendered to the Holy Spirit and live in the spirit. They are signs not of our own efforts or holiness but of the Spirit itself working in us. It behooves us to remember that.

On my own I can do nothing. In God's grace I can do anything. 

 

 

The Fruits: Gentleness

 

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things, there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

Gentleness of manner or disposition--this quality is very close to kindness, but it has more to do with mild temper or sweet disposition than anything else. It is how we approach the people we have in our life.

God presents each of us with people every day, passing acquaintances as well as family, friends, and coworkers. In every category, some are more likable than others but we're called to love them all. "Gentleness" is how someone who lives in the spirit approaches the people we are given, particularly those we find hard to get along with.

I recently had a conversation with a friend about relationships with people whose political or religious views and values differ sharply from ours. Worse is when those we're given to love are opinionated, judgmental, and harsh with anyone who differs from them. We're living in an age where political tribalism, religious dogmatism, and so on have us so divided into camps that conversations have ceased to be about ideas and often deteriorate into name-calling and labels. The problems in families over these differences have made holiday dinners with those we ought to feel close to tense and sometimes miserable. It has become such a widespread problem, jokes and self-help solutions proliferate.

Here's a solution: pray for the Holy Spirit to so fill us that we bear fruit in gentleness especially when the people we encounter are difficult and prickly. We can't and shouldn't agree with everyone, but we can treat them with gentleness.  Need a model? The portrayal of Jesus on The Chosen is an example that combines strength and firmness of purpose with gentleness beautifully.

The Fruits: Faithfulness

 

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things, there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

If the Holy Spirit manifests her fruits in my life at all, this one is probably it. Fifty-two years of marriage is one manifestation. Of course, there are kinds and degrees of fidelity in marriage. The absence of adultery is only one. True single-hearted love in the face of illnesses, family stress, career stress, is harder, as is the distraction of other shiny things. Still, we persist.

I'm a tough friend to lose. Close friendships stay with me decade after decade, some of them for 60, 50, 40 years. 

I could not stay steady in all these things without an enormous flood of grace. That I've been able to do so is nothing but a gift from God who does all. He is he who is God. I am she who is not.

The greatest gift of all and the foundational faithfulness, however, is that I have never wavered in my belief since the day I understood that God existed, and because of that nothing else --NOTHING--matters. I may have struggled with the institutional church but never with that foundational faith. For that grace I am grateful.

The Fruits: Goodness

 

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things, there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

What is goodness? It is the nature of humans to choose what is good. Of course what an individual perceives as good generally is "good for me."

To give a petty example, I may choose pie for breakfast and ice cream for lunch. I crave them and perceive them as very good. In the context of my health and overall well-being, however, they are not so good for me. It is a matter of judgment and perception. On a much greater scale, Hitler did what he thought of as good for himself and even good for Germany. We think of him as a madman, but even madmen choose their perceived good. 

To bear fruit in true goodness, we have to have the wisdom—and selflessness—that only comes from the Holy Spirit.

What then is goodness? The etymological dictionary on historic principles says:

Old English gōd (with a long "o") "excellent, fine; valuable; desirable, favorable, beneficial; full, entire, complete;" of abstractions, actions, etc., "beneficial, effective; righteous, pious;" of persons or souls, "righteous, pious, virtuous;" probably originally "having the right or desirable quality,"

It is tempting to think that good and God have the same English root but the etymological dictionary argues otherwise. It doesn't matter. Goodness is closest to the scriptural idea of righteousness.

As a fruit of the Spirit and life under the guidance of the Spirit, goodness means displaying in my life that string of qualities in definition, things that are fine and valuable, and my particular favorite, "beneficial." I believe it means that the way I live makes the lives of those around me, the life of the church and the community, the natural world as I find it, all better--or at least as fine as God made them. Goodness is to build up, to give life.