Consolation & Desolation: What are “spiritualized capital sins”?

Q: Dear Father John, You used the phrase “spiritualized capital sins” in your post on consolation and desolation. I have never heard this idea before. What are spiritualized capital sins and how do they “attempt” to re-conquer the soul as we mature?

A: We have to remember that here on earth we are members of the Church militant. We are in the midst of a battle. As we grow spiritually, the enemies of our souls (the devil and his demons) don’t sit idly by. Did you know that the Church’s most notable heresiarchs (people who start heresies) were almost all priests in their forties? Pelagius, Arius, Apollinaris, Nestorius… These were all men of God, passionately dedicated to the Church and to seeking deeper intimacy with Christ, advanced in theological knowledge and in the spiritual life. Who would have guessed that they would become instruments of ecclesial devastation and spiritual shipwreck? And yet, they did. We can  never forget this: as we grow spiritually, the battle doesn’t go away.

But our enemies are smart. They know that temptation has to be customized to the situation of the person being tempted. They can’t invent new sins (the seven capital sins are always the primary categories for sinful behavior), but they can disguise them in new ways. So, for someone who is well along the road towards spiritual maturity, the tempters will have to clothe the capital sins in spiritual garments.

“Spiritualized” Capital Sins

For example, the inclination to vanity can appear in a subtle desire to have one’s new and advanced piety noticed. You start trying to draw attention to the outward manifestation of your devotion. Or you find yourself seeking to impress your spiritual director – hiding real struggles from them, lest they think you are less holy than you want to appear. You may even switch spiritual directors, not for any objective reason, but simply because you don’t want to follow anyone’s advice except your own.

The inclination to pride can show up in a sort of complacency in your religious works. You think you are really doing well, and so you start planning all kinds of great spiritual projects, but you don’t actually follow through on any of them. Or, you start talking about spiritual things with other people just to give them lessons, instead of seeking ways to put the lessons into practice yourself.

In the area of sensuality, you can become attached to the consolations that God has given you in your prayer and sacramental life. So you find yourself trying to force certain emotional reactions during your meditation or after Communion. You start to seek spiritual feelings too much, forgetting that the goal of holiness is union with God in mind and will, not feelings of consolation. You can even begin to become attached to friendships or relationships that seem to be based on spiritual values, but in truth you invest in them because of the emotional payback you feel instead of the mutual spiritual support they are supposed to provide; this can become a kind of spiritual lust. Spiritual greed can take the form of an insatiable desire to read every spiritual book, to accumulate rosaries and holy cards and icons, to jump around from devotion to devotion trying to imbibe the entire spiritual patrimony of the Church all at once even to the neglect of life’s basic duties (like one’s responsibilities to family members), instead of seeking patiently to go deep in the essentials.

Keeping Our Eye on the Ball: “Thy Will Be Done – Not Mine!”

These are some examples. You can find a more systematic summary of this spiritual trap in Fr. Tanquerey’s treatise on the spiritual life, #’s 1262-1269. We need to know that these types of attachments and self-absorption are possible, and that they can hinder spiritual progress as much as the less subtle sins. But we need not become obsessed with them. As always in the spiritual life, the compass and anchor remain the same: I love God by accepting and fulfilling his will in each moment of my life. That’s the litmus test, and that’s the surest guide through the shadows and tangles of this earthly pilgrimage – as sure a guide for us as it was for Jesus: “My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to accomplish His work” (John 4:34).

How can I get out of patterns of sin!?

Q. Dear Sister Carmen, how can I deepen my relationship with God when I am stuck in patterns of sin that I can’t seem to break? I’ve asked this question to several people at different times, but I really can’t seem to figure this out or make any progress. I am really grieved over this. Thank you for your help.

A. It seems to me that your grief over patterns of sin is already the beginning of conversion and spiritual growth. Recall the story of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:18-19 when the son realizing his sinful situation says, “I will arise and go to my father and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired servants.’”

Your question obviously indicates that you have good desires and the fact that you are sincere in yearning to deepen your relationship with God presupposes that you have already established a relationship with Him. Our good desires, however, must include self-knowledge and humility.

Self-knowledge opens to us the reality of the mystery and ugliness of sin as well as to the mystery and beauty of grace. Teresa envisioned the human soul as a castle containing many rooms. Outside the castle there was darkness and fearsome reptiles and creatures trying to impede our way into the castle. The key to the entry of the castle is prayer and reflection.

Once inside we become aware of light emanating from the deepest center, that innermost room, where dwells the Glory of God. However, some of these fearsome creatures manage to squeeze in with us, for they are the temptations, the bad habits, the patterns of sin that accompany us and although the Light continues to stream from the center of the castle, we still experience darkness for that which accompanies us into the castle blocks the light trying to reach us.

There is much work to be done in the first room. We wage a daily battle between the person we wish to be, the person we really are and the person God created us to be. To come to self-knowledge we must be very willing to be honest and this requires humility. What am I really like? How do others see me? Do I spend my time trying to be someone I am not? Do I feel guilty being who I am? How much of the false values of the world around me have I absorbed?

The Prodigal Son was lured away from his loved ones by the false promises of happiness. It wasn’t until he had hit rock-bottom that he realized that he had sacrificed an authentic relationship with himself, with others, and with God for fleeting pleasures. Only when he ran out of money and his “friends” deserted him was he able to see the superficiality of his life.

Each of us needs to identify the vipers and poisonous creatures that block our passageway as we seek to move through the castle into the other rooms seeking the One who waits for us at the Center just as the father of the Prodigal Son, in the center of his home, looked longingly for his son’s return day after day until one day he saw him coming in the distance.

• Can I identify the blockages that hinder my movement forward?:

• What external occupations fill my mind causing me to neglect prayer and reflection?

• Am I addicted to noise (e.g. music, television, radio, etc.)?

• Am I afraid of solitude filling the emptiness within me with busy-ness?

• What patterns of sin do I need to break and what concrete measures am I taking to help myself?

• Do I make use of the sacramental graces provided by frequent confession?

• Have I considered the help of a spiritual director to assist me in breaking the pattern of sin and to aid me in practicing virtue?

What elements in my life am I willing to surrender in order to remain in and be attentive to God’s Presence?

It was only when the Prodigal Son made a firm decision to “arise” and go to his father that he began the journey that would take him to the treasure he had not recognized. As the father waited patiently for his son’s return, so also God is even more patient as we move through the rooms leaving behind us the paltry treasures we have accumulated in order to find the Pearl of Great Price at the center. Are we willing to sell all for this Treasure?

Until next time,

Sr. Carmen Laudis OCD

PS: To learn more about the Carmelite Sisters visit our web site: www.carmelitesistersocd.com and for more information please contact the sisters at contact@carmelitesistersocd.com, or 626-289-1353 Ext. 246, 920 East Alhambra Road, Alhambra, California 91801.

What constitutes grave sin? How can I know if it is ok to receive the Eucharist?

Q: I was told that receiving the sacrament of the Eucharist while in a state of grave sin is a grave sin in itself. I’m constantly worried about whether I am allowed to receive Communion at Mass, and I do make sure I go to confession monthly (or more often). My question is this: How grave must a sin be to have to abstain from the Eucharist? A group of us have discussed this and we got to the idea that you can receive communion if you are truly sorry for your sins, even if you haven’t yet gone to reconciliation for it, and it’s up to ourselves to judge if we’re worthy of receiving or not. Is that true?

A: To keep us from receiving Holy Communion, a sin has to be what we call a “mortal sin.” There are three conditions for a sin to be mortal: It has to have been committed with full knowledge that the action was gravely evil (you can’t commit a mortal sin “by mistake”); it has to be committed with full consent (I didn’t do it because I was afraid or pressured); and it has to involve what is called “grave matter,” which means the action itself has to be serious. Stealing a piece of bubble gum would not be a mortal sin (it would be a venial sin), but stealing a diamond necklace worth half a million dollars would be a mortal sin. Sometimes it’s hard to know if all three conditions have been met. In those cases, the best thing is to go to confession and ask the priest to help you discern, or ask someone who you know and trust and who has good wisdom on these kinds of things. Usually, though, if there is doubt in your mind, it is probably not a mortal sin. But we have to be careful here – it is our responsibility as mature Christians to inform ourselves about what constitutes “grave matter” and what doesn’t. For instance, a lot of people don’t realize that missing Sunday Mass is grave matter. A lot of people don’t think that getting drunk is grave matter either, but it is.

Understanding “Grave Matter”

The basic list of actions that constitute “grave matter” is the Ten Commandments. But it would be impossible to make a list of all permutations of actions in those ten categories. Nevertheless, we can reflect on the underlying reason why something would be considered grave. Whenever we choose something radically opposed to God’s goodness – like murder, fornication, or refusing to praise and thank God by attending Sunday Mass – we are, basically, rejecting God’s friendship. The object of our choice (the “matter” of the sin) is in direct and full opposition to the very heart of God. By choosing it, we are saying to God that we can live without him, that we don’t want him around. In this way, we destroy the theological virtue of charity in our soul. That constitutes a mortal sin, which God will readily forgive if we sincerely repent and go to him in the sacrament of confession. Whenever we give in to temptations that are opposed to God’s goodness in less radical ways – like sleeping in a little longer than necessary, eating a little more than is necessary, stealing small office supplies from an employer for personal use – we aren’t outright severing our friendship with God, but we’re distancing ourselves from him. These actions would not constitute grave matter. In these cases, we’re making small concessions to selfishness that close off certain sectors of our heart from his love and thereby weaken the theological virtue of charity in our soul. That constitutes a venial sin, which God will readily forgive if we sincerely repent even if we don’t go to confession, but which, if left un-repented, could easily snowball into the outright rebellion of mortal sin.

Sins vs Mistakes

Sometimes we have difficulty distinguishing between sins and simple mistakes. If I sincerely forget to send my mom a mother’s day card, I may have strong feelings of regret, but I shouldn’t feel morally guilty about it, I shouldn’t feel remorse. If I do, it’s a sign that my conscience is overactive, or scrupulous. If, on the other hand, I purposely avoid calling my mom on her birthday because I’m nursing resentment about something she said five years ago, then I ought to feel guilty; Christians honor their parents, they don’t hold grudges against them.

Why Communion and Mortal Sin Don’t Go Together

The reason the Church forbids us from receiving Holy Communion when we are in a state of mortal sin is precisely because mortal sin breaks our friendship with Christ. It’s like a divorce – we rebel against him by choosing to do something that pains him deeply; we walk out on him. But Holy Communion is a sacrament of intimate union and love. And so, before we can come back to Communion, we need to be reconciled with the Lord – we need to repent, confess, and receive his forgiveness. This is the point of the sacrament of reconciliation, or confession. (If there is some good reason why I cannot make a good confession before receiving Holy Communion, I can still receive Holy Communion if I make a perfect act of contrition, and if I have the intention of going to confession as soon as I can.) When we commit a venial sin, it’s like getting into an argument with a friend – we offend God, but it is not a total break with him. And so, Holy Communion is actually one of the ways that the Church recommends we use in order to have our venial sins forgiven. In all cases, though, as soon as we realize we have sinned, we should immediately pray to God to forgive us and ask him for help to avoid sinning in the future. God’s mercy is always available – even if we can’t make it to confession for a good reason. But if we can make it to confession, then we should (every confession is like a power-wash of grace for the soul, and it gives great glory to God, and it enhances our spiritual maturity immeasurably). You may be interested in reading what the Catechism has to say about mortal and venial sin, and grave matter. We reproduce it below for you convenience:

IV. THE GRAVITY OF SIN: MORTAL AND VENIAL SIN

1854 Sins are rightly evaluated according to their gravity. The distinction between mortal and venial sin, already evident in Scripture, became part of the tradition of the Church. It is corroborated by human experience.

1855 Mortal sin destroys charity in the heart of man by a grave violation of God’s law; it turns man away from God, who is his ultimate end and his beatitude, by preferring an inferior good to him.Venial sin allows charity to subsist, even though it offends and wounds it.

1856 Mortal sin, by attacking the vital principle within us – that is, charity – necessitates a new initiative of God’s mercy and a conversion of heart which is normally accomplished within the setting of the sacrament of reconciliation:When the will sets itself upon something that is of its nature incompatible with the charity that orients man toward his ultimate end, then the sin is mortal by its very object . . . whether it contradicts the love of God, such as blasphemy or perjury, or the love of neighbor, such as homicide or adultery. . . . But when the sinner’s will is set upon something that of its nature involves a disorder, but is not opposed to the love of God and neighbor, such as thoughtless chatter or immoderate laughter and the like, such sins are venial.

1857 For a sin to be mortal, three conditions must together be met: “Mortal sin is sin whose object is grave matter and which is also committed with full knowledge and deliberate consent.”

1858 Grave matter is specified by the Ten Commandments, corresponding to the answer of Jesus to the rich young man: “Do not kill, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and your mother.” The gravity of sins is more or less great: murder is graver than theft. One must also take into account who is wronged: violence against parents is in itself graver than violence against a stranger.

1859 Mortal sin requires full knowledge and complete consent. It presupposes knowledge of the sinful character of the act, of its opposition to God’s law. It also implies a consent sufficiently deliberate to be a personal choice. Feigned ignorance and hardness of heart do not diminish, but rather increase, the voluntary character of a sin.

1860 Unintentional ignorance can diminish or even remove the imputability of a grave offense. But no one is deemed to be ignorant of the principles of the moral law, which are written in the conscience of every man. The promptings of feelings and passions can also diminish the voluntary and free character of the offense, as can external pressures or pathological disorders. Sin committed through malice, by deliberate choice of evil, is the gravest.

1861 Mortal sin is a radical possibility of human freedom, as is love itself. It results in the loss of charity and the privation of sanctifying grace, that is, of the state of grace. If it is not redeemed by repentance and God’s forgiveness, it causes exclusion from Christ’s kingdom and the eternal death of hell, for our freedom has the power to make choices for ever, with no turning back. However, although we can judge that an act is in itself a grave offense, we must entrust judgment of persons to the justice and mercy of God.

1862 One commits venial sin when, in a less serious matter, he does not observe the standard prescribed by the moral law, or when he disobeys the moral law in a grave matter, but without full knowledge or without complete consent.

1863 Venial sin weakens charity; it manifests a disordered affection for created goods; it impedes the soul’s progress in the exercise of the virtues and the practice of the moral good; it merits temporal punishment. Deliberate and unrepented venial sin disposes us little by little to commit mortal sin. However venial sin does not break the covenant with God. With God’s grace it is humanly reparable. “Venial sin does not deprive the sinner of sanctifying grace, friendship with God, charity, and consequently eternal happiness.” While he is in the flesh, man cannot help but have at least some light sins. But do not despise these sins which we call “light”: if you take them for light when you weigh them, tremble when you count them. A number of light objects makes a great mass; a number of drops fills a river; a number of grains makes a heap. What then is our hope? Above all, confession.

1864 “Therefore I tell you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven men, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven.” There are no limits to the mercy of God, but anyone who deliberately refuses to accept his mercy by repenting, rejects the forgiveness of his sins and the salvation offered by the Holy Spirit. Such hardness of heart can lead to final impenitence and eternal loss.

I hate myself. How can I find comfort in God when I feel so unworthy?

Q: Dear Father John, I thought I once heard you mention that quite often a hatred of oneself runs parallel with a hatred of God. My problem is similar, but while I hate myself quite a bit I do not in any way hate God. God is, in fact, my longest and most faithful friend, always at the back of my mind. And I know it probably hurts Him to see me revile myself the way I do, but I feel unable to improve the situation. I compare it sometimes to my relationship with my husband. He understands that I earnestly believe myself selfish, evil and ugly, but his patience runs thin the more times I mention it. I find myself asking for God’s patience more than any other thing, and I do want to please Him, but I’m not sure if I’m able. My question is how to best be pleasing to God when I foster a deep-seeded belief that I am unworthy of any sort of salvation or comfort?

A: First, make sure you cement into the very foundation of your understanding of the universe one extremely important truth that God has revealed to us so frequently and so forcibly that he has removed any room for doubt: “…but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). I would highly recommend that you memorize that verse of inspired Scripture, and that you repeat it to yourself, using it as a prayer, throughout the day. God’s love for his – his personal, all-knowing, passionate, tender, and determined love for each one of us – does not depend on our being worthy of it, being perfect, being selfless, being a model Christian… On the contrary, it is only as we continue discovering God’s love for us that we open our hearts to be touched by his transforming grace so that we can actually love him in return and begin to experience life as he calls us to live it – selflessly, generously, joyfully, humbly. Our journey through this Valley of Tears that we call earth is not primarily about what we can do for God, but about what God has done (and still wants to do for us): “This is real love–not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins” (1 John 4:10). So, keep reminding yourself of this, over and over again. Make it the theme of your daily prayer. Ask God to convince you of this more and more every day.

From that perspective, I think you can answer your own question. How best to please God, even though you know that you are unworthy? Throw yourself into his arms. Dive into his mercy. Trust him when he tells you that he loves you just as you are, and maybe even MORE because you are so much in need of his grace. Remember the parable of the Good Shepherd, who left the 99 sheep who were in good shape in order to go after the one sheep that was lost and in need. And he rejoiced when he found it. Your mere desire to follow God, to know him and love him better, gives him immense pleasure. Every time you turn back to him after a fall or a failure, you fill his heart with joy. He longs not for our self-perfection, but for our presence, our friendship, our desire to walk with him. This is what pleases him.

You may be confusing God’s being “pleased” with his being “satisfied.” God loves us so much that he is never satisfied. He knows we can grow, and so, like a good coach how really cares about his players, he never gets tired of demanding more from us and inviting us to give more. He loves us too much to let us vegetate in our personal comfort zone, spiritually speaking. But even though he is hard to satisfy, he is extremely easy to please. The slightest effort delights him! He knows better than we do how hard it is for us to live a truly spiritual, truly Christ-like life. So, he is like the dad witnessing his little baby take her first steps. The steps are clumsy, jerky, and unsteady. But how the dad rejoices over them!

Okay, now for a hard truth. Whenever you get drawn into a personal pity party and find yourself discouraged or tense or preoccupied about your own weakness and spiritual neediness (selfishness), you are actually falling into dangerous territory. Discouragement is not something that comes from the Holy Spirit – not ever. Discouragement is a subtle, very subtle, form of spiritual pride, which is one of the seven capital sins. Discouragement, when we give into it and revel in it instead of turning it immediately into a prayer and throwing ourselves into God’s loving arms, says to God: “O Lord, look at how evil I am; I am so selfish that not even you can love me or help me…” Oh what a nasty trick of the Devil that thought is! Oh how it hurts our Lord when we say that to him! His mercy, his love, his goodness, his power – they are IMMENSELY greater than our misery! Our Lord revealed to St Margaret Mary that even if all the sins of the world were on her soul, compared to his burning love for her, they would be like a drop of water thrown into a blazing furnace. So, whenever you feel like turning in on yourself and being drawn into the pit of self-deprecation, simply make an act of humility and then turn your attention back to whatever it is God wants you to be doing at that moment, even if it’s something as simple as washing the dishes, “Lord, you know what a mess I am, but you love me. Give me the strength to forget about myself and do what you want me to do. I am in your hands, and they are Very Good Hands…”

I suggest that you take for a personal motto what St Paul said about this very struggle, and follow his example of rejoicing in your weaknesses because they force you to depend more and more on God, which is what it’s all about: “I am well content with these humiliations of mine, with the insults, the hardships, the persecutions, the times of difficulty I undergo for Christ; when I am weakest, then I am strongest of all” (2 Corinthians 12:10).

I discovered my root sin is vanity and I am struggling with this…

Q: Dear Father Edward, I just came to realize through spiritual direction, prayer and many graces that my root sin in Vanity!!! And I am having a very hard time knowing this fact. I feel like God is now leaving me alone (not feeling His presence) to test me and I am struggling with this fact. How do I continue to keep my faith strong and deal with the everyday insecurities in myself that I face? People have said to me that this “is where the rubber meets the road” and “I, too, use to see the world with “rose colored glasses,” but I really don’t understand what they mean! Thanks for your post and information. I am sure this journey is ongoing and I do thank God for all his gifts.

A: It is good to hear that God has given you the grace to understand yourself better. Even if you feel more humbled, remember that “the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). Let’s recall that vanity is an offshoot of pride. Whereas pride prompts us to put ourselves ahead of God and others, vanity makes us value the esteem of others more than the will of the Almighty. Admitting that vanity is our root sin can be a little embarrassing, especially if we perceive it as a defect of the immature or thin-skinned. In fact, vanity is more common than we think. And if we are not careful, it can worm its way into every pore of daily life.

Vanity has its obvious manifestations. We might be fastidious about our clothes, for instance, so as to attract attention. This helps keep the fashion industry solvent, but the downside is that it fuels the fires of egotism. Vanity has its subtle forms too. Let’s take the case of a neighbor who prepares a nice tray of lasagna for the bedridden mom down the street who can’t cook for her family at the moment. On the surface this seems a charitable deed. But deep down the person really might be doing it: 1) to show off her cooking skills, and 2) to ingratiate herself with this mom who happens to be the socialite beauty of the neighborhood. Or maybe a person works hard to carry out a project at the parish. The task took a lot of time and, by golly, he won’t pass up an opportunity to remind folks of his great sacrifice. In these two cases the good deeds done might not seem so good in the eyes of God. Vanity thus loses the graces that would otherwise flow from laudable deeds.

It can be a rude awakening, to say the least, to learn that we are vain. Suddenly all those “good deeds” we thought we were doing now appear as they really are: ego-feeders. That might be what the comment about the “rose colored glasses” meant. When we uncover vanity in our life, it sheds a different light on things. It can leave us feeling like a phony, a bit dejected.

Like other root sins, vanity is a response to a person’s insecurity. Maybe the person felt rejected as a child. Maybe he felt that he was never good enough for mom or dad. Maybe he felt overshadowed by a star sibling with an IQ of 173. Whatever the case might be, he felt insecure, and he has been looking for security in the esteem of others ever since. This isn’t the solution, however. The solution is for a person to put his security in Christ alone, to value Our Lord’s judgment above everyone else’s. And why not? Christ loves us more than anyone else does. He died on a cross for our salvation. His love continues to this day, which is why he allows certain challenges and dry periods in our life.

God might be leaving you in just such a state right now. Now that you understand your root sin (a grace in itself!), God wants to lead you further along. He does it by taking off the training wheels, so to speak. Not only does he want you to detach from your reliance on the opinions of others. He also wants you to detach from your expectations of how he shows his love to you. It is not that God has abandoned you; rather, he has probably just taken away the consolations you might be expecting to receive in prayer. Why does he do this? He does it to purify your intentions. He wants you to pray and work solely for love of him. He doesn’t want your devoutness to be based on good feelings or, heaven forbid, to allow it to feed any kind of egotism. In a sense, God wants his followers to break with vanity completely, especially since it can creep into the prayer life. “Oh, I was so fervent today at prayer/Mass/adoration … I’m really a great person.” Enough! says Christ. Do things for love of me alone. So God is testing you right now. He has led you into the desert and taken away consolations, all for the purpose of your drawing closer to him. Perseverance is the key now. Stick with your prayer life, no matter how dry it might seem. Have frequent recourse to the sacraments. Practice charity especially with those who are difficult to deal with. In this way Our Lord will forge in you a purer heart. For his glory, not yours.

Yours in Christ, Father Edward McIlmail, LC

Father McIlmail is a theology instructor at Mater Ecclesiae College in Greenville, RI.