Some Thoughts on Sin, Part One
About 30 years ago, I was involved in an RCIA class being taught by a Dominican sister. The general topic was sin and its consequences, and the discussion had turned to the distinction between mortal and venial sins.
The pastor was sitting in during the class, and a question came from one candidate: How common is mortal sin?
The sister offered the opinion that for those who practice their faith regularly (e.g., go to Mass every Sunday, pray the rosary, practice regular confession) it is pretty rare.
The Dominican pastor seemed perturbed by this, and gave her the following example: “Let’s say a married man is attracted to a co-worker and decides to sleep with her. On the way to the motel, they are run over by a street car [why is it always a street car with these things??]. Did they die in mortal sin?”
Sister answered something like “Not necessarily,” and there followed a…frank exchange of views, let’s say.
I think they were talking past each other.
Let’s flesh out (no pun intended) the scenario a bit more.
Let’s say John and Mary have been married for 12 years. John is heading into middle age, and is having the “do I still have it?” self-doubts that go with that phase of life. Let’s further say that Mary has been withholding sex from John, without explanation. Let’s say the reason is that Mary has recently remembered being molested by her father repeatedly when she was 13 years old, before he left his family entirely. She hasn’t really put it together in her mind, but lately when John shows interest in her in a sexual way, she is reminded of her father’s crimes, but in a way she isn’t fully conscious of.
John has tried to ask Mary what’s going on, but she is avoiding the subject, leaving John with the impression that it is something about him.
John has an attractive co-worker named Susan (who has a painful history of her own), with whom he works closely, and on a business trip, he stops by her room to go over a presentation they will be giving to an important client the next day. At some point, there is a sudden moment of attraction, etc…and then a street car somehow comes careening through their 17th floor hotel room and kills them both.
On the level of abstractions, the formula is simple: Man knows act is wrong, man does it anyway, along comes a street car, and H-E-Double-Toothpicks.
In the real, empirical world, however, is it ever really that simple? “Me and Madge have a great marriage and wonderful kids, everything is hunky-dory…but you know, I think I’ll do evil and cheat on Madge…”
On the other hand, looking at that same, empirical world, one beset by broken families, war, abortion, racism, poverty and much, much else, it is hard to argue that serious sin is anything but pervasive, even prevalent.
I remember the tail end of the pre-Vatican II culture in the American church, and it was a culture that badly needed to change. Scrupulosity was much more common:
“Father, I swallowed some toothpaste before Mass – may I still worthily receive communion?”
“Yes, child, but you should be careful of that.”
What sort of image of our relationship to God is being communicated in that little vignette? (Conversations of that sort were pretty common. Ask anyone over the age of about 55 if you doubt this.)
My observation is that we Catholics need a greater appreciation for sin and its consequences, but one rooted in humility and true contrition. We need to look at the world with clear eyes – the world of “broken families, war, abortion, racism, poverty and much, much else” I mentioned previously – and see it as the consequences of our own selfishness. There is no “them” messing up the world; there is only you and me.
“There is no “them” messing up the world; there is only you and me.”
Matt, you said a mouthful. There’s that beam in my eye that I need to think about before considering the splinter in the other guy’s eye.
Then there’s that good Catholic fella who goes to mass every week and spends his days working for a credit card company trying to come up with new and fresh devious ways to wring more and money out of the company’s customers. What he is doing is clearly wrong, but he may not see it that way at all. He is just doing his job to support himself and his family, breaking no laws, and indeed reaping good rewards, monetary and psychic, for being a success in this economic system we have.
He may indeed not be sinning at all personally–if he has no evil intention or even an understanding that what he is doing is wrong. But the sin is there, is it not? It’s that structure of sin thing talked out on this blog before.
What does it take to root out the structural sin?
Is me looking to the beam in my own eye enough? I guess more and more of us just have to concerned about our particular beams.
It seems to all come down to our need to truly live and teach the gospel–and not in the feeble ways that most of us are doing it now, if the world is to get appreciably closer to the Kingdom of God anytime soon.
What does it take to root out the structural sin?
1. Personal conversion
2. Prayer
3. Seeing the structures for what they are
4. Lovingly confronting those who actively build and “benefit” from such structures, with the aim not of power but of reconciliation.
These structures are lies designed to divide brother from brother and sister from sister. They whisper to us that there is some “them” that “we” must make war on, or price out of our neighborhoods, or neglect or persecute or torture or disregard.
There is no such thing as “them”.
There is no such thing as “them”.
I agree. For me personally, that is the most difficult thing about wading through the Catholic blogosphere. People come from radically different backgrounds and experiences, but there is very rarely any appreciation of this (and I’m not, of course, talking only or even primarily about VN). And so everyone tries to afix labels on people like ‘leftist,’ ‘socialist,’ ‘fascist,’ ‘pro-abort,’ ‘Calvinist,’ etc. that are short cuts for actually engaging in the difficult work of conversation about contested issues. I’ve even had conversations with Catholics on-line who deny that personal conversion and prayer should be the most important focus for each of us individually – and, not surprisingly, conversations with such people tend to be remarkably unfruitful regardless of the topic.
We are all sinners; we all make mistakes in either in adopting or reasoning from first principles, and we all can learn from each other. But that doesn’t seem to happen as often as it should. To attempt to bring this rant closer to the point of the post, I think we all need to recognize how radically broken the world is, and that the reason the world is in that state is that people have made it that way; and that this is most profitably understood first as a statement about us, and only after this has been addressed through prayer and the sacraments, to set our sights on correcting others.
John: I like this. If we have to wait until we’re finished with prayer and sacraments before we can legitimately set our sights on correcting each other,… We’ll keep all ten fingers folded in prayer and never get around to wagging finger number one at each other. Conversely, if a “correction” from another has no validity without a Magisterial certification that the corrector has “finished” all prayer and sacraments, there’s no reason to contest such an invalid correction, and no reason to get all in a lather over it.
What a world that would be!
Frank, I’ll just say that I emphatically did not say we have to be ‘finished,’ much less presented with a Magisterial certification (whatever that would mean). Just that until we’ve recognized we’re a large part of the problem – and that the faults we point out in others are likely present in at least equally present in ourselves (if under slightly different forms) – then we haven’t really engaged in mature reflection. As a visit to any grade school will suggest, name-calling is easy; the more difficult, and important work, as Matt’s post suggests is conversion and reflection.
Matt, I’m wondering based on your comment, is this series of articles going to focus on the subject of structural sin?
is this series of articles going to focus on the subject of structural sin?
Not exclusively, no.
It seems that the scenario above could be well explained with the teaching on mortal and venial sin that is found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. If someone’s will is weakened to the point where it is more difficult to resist temptation in a certain situation then we could say that they are not giving full consent to the act, since they are somehow impaired. That being said, I like something CS Lewis said: he said that we should not judge others, since we do not know all the factors that play into their actions, but that we should not try to excuse ourselves for our sins and failings. I also think it is important to maintain and promote the Catholic teaching on mortal sin. Ultimately, I think doing so helps people avoid some pretty bad situations, and helps them understand the serious nature of some immoral actions. Naturally, scrupulosity of the kind mentioned is not good, but not taking sin seriously is also bad. There needs to be a balance. In any case, the reality of mortal sin has always been taught by the Church, and while we should avoid extremes in the presentation of this doctrine, we most certainly need to take it seriously, and perhaps far more seriously than we currently do.
John:
We may have different interpretations of what it means to “correct” someone else. My interpretation goes like this: If I “correct” someone I claim authority to do so. That’s in contrast to Matt’s “Lovingly confronting [...] with the aim not of power but of reconciliation.”
Confrontation, unlike correction, implies a peer relationship. Within a medium like a comment box, pretty much anybody can claim to be anyone, with the result that all comers are effectively peers. So correction (my interpretation) is rarely appropriate or even constructive in a comment box.
This is not to deny a hierarchy of personal authority in real life: My spiritual director and my pastor have authority that I recognize to correct me. When my children were young, I used my authority to correct them.
My interpretation goes like this: If I “correct” someone I claim authority to do so. That’s in contrast to Matt’s “Lovingly confronting [...] with the aim not of power but of reconciliation.”
Ah, got it. I was confused by your original comment. I don’t generally make that particular distinction between confrontation and correction; but I understand your meaning now. I think you’re right that the presumption of superiority inherent in what you call ‘correction’ is generally inappropriate in the blogging context. Discussion/fraternal confrontation that does not presuppose the other is inferior is more appropriate and (in my experience) more effective. Cheers.
As the late FR. Richard McSorley S.J. has shown, there are four conditions that need to be examine to see if the scenarios would result in a sin. They are:
1. Last Resort. Every other means of getting along must be tried: discussion, advice of a third party, reconciliation of differences, expressions of affection, anything short of adultery.
2. Good Intention. There must be no intent to harm one’s spouse or any other person. Revenge for unfaithfulness of one’s partner would not be considered a sufficient cause, nor would the need for more children, or a second home. The cause must be genuine love and affection for the companion in adultery, needs that cannot be satisfied in any other way, and conversely, a genuine need of that love and affection on the part of the one initiating the adultery. The main point to be kept in mind is that the adultery must be in defense of love. There must be pure intention. This condition entirely excludes aggressive adultery, which is sometimes called “rape.”
3. Protection of the Innocent. The aggrieved partner must not be harmed. Every effort at secrecy must be made; no open flaunting or even informing the aggrieved partner would be consistent with this condition. If children are born of the adultery, both partners to the act must have the intention of caring for the children. The use of a contraceptive device, or the intent of having an abortion, violate this condition and make the adultery immoral.
4. Proportion. A favorable balance of good over evil must be reasonably hoped for. The foreseeable harm to absent partners, and to living children, must be weighed against the need for affection and love on the part of the adulterers. This need must honestly predominate over the cumulative harm.
He called this the “Just Adultery Theory” when looking at the 6th Commandment. Since we seem to have no problem doing this to the 5th Commandment.
Michael,
I just want to understand: are you a pacifist, in one hundred percent of cases?