Just some reflections on balancing forces...
I was reading an article in Time some time ago about Mother Teresa and some of the things she had written in personal letters to her confessor. The story was, even though she's being considered for sainthood and people thought she was very pious and stuff, the letters contain accounts of a long, constant feeling of being forsaken by God, of not feeling the presence of God for decades on end.
This began a discussion within the article about the things that great people do--or maybe the great things people do. It is speculated that there are certain people for whom great success is too much to handle without some great debilitation. A "thorn in the flesh," if you will. These types of people can only achieve their great success if they also feel like they have some great failing. Perhaps it's an attempt to be normal. Geniuses are crazy, presidents philander...
The article discussed this concept in relation to how Mother Teresa could remain so humble in the face of all the great things she had a hand in making happen.
It comes to mind again now, and I think of the Roman Catholic church. Though I'm not fully versed in their theology and doctrine, I know there is a great emphasis placed on guilt and penance. (We watched a movie in Spanish class that was about a nun. Probably has something to do with it.)
I think to myself that this must be one reason why Catholicism is so popular. Perhaps it provides a structure within which people can justify their overachievement. I can see the appeal of accomplishing great things but being able to deflect accusations of pride with this sense of having a great failing and paying for it.
Can this be termed false humility?
I can't help but come back to Jesus. What would he think? He's the one who abolished the sacrificial system, the tit for tat, never-ending cycle in which we can never get ahead. The older you get, living that way, the more miserable you become. It's like holding a never-ending grudge against yourself.
I've made many mistakes in the last couple months, done a lot of things I'm not particularly proud of while accomplishing a lot of really good things. Fundamentally, genuinely good things. But I can't help but think that I'm driven in part by a sense of...fairness. Or, for the things that I've done wrong, I must make up by overcompensating. Compensation is the operative term...I shall pay for what I've done and then after that, make a positive contribution. Like my good deeds outweigh the bad. I have to do something bad to motivate me to do something good.
I realize it's empty. I find myself needing another sound motivation from which I can draw to do good things. I suppose that's where love comes in...I'm so far away from the things I learned as a child...where I am right now, I feel they're rare. There's so little love here...only vengeance. Spitefulness. Name-calling. Blaming. Yelling.
But I suppose complaining is not the way to fix it.
I'm trying to be an example of love. Loving deeds, mostly. It's hard to love someone you don't know that well. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I'm not so good at the joy part. Ironic, really.
No real conclusion...
I was reading an article in Time some time ago about Mother Teresa and some of the things she had written in personal letters to her confessor. The story was, even though she's being considered for sainthood and people thought she was very pious and stuff, the letters contain accounts of a long, constant feeling of being forsaken by God, of not feeling the presence of God for decades on end.
This began a discussion within the article about the things that great people do--or maybe the great things people do. It is speculated that there are certain people for whom great success is too much to handle without some great debilitation. A "thorn in the flesh," if you will. These types of people can only achieve their great success if they also feel like they have some great failing. Perhaps it's an attempt to be normal. Geniuses are crazy, presidents philander...
The article discussed this concept in relation to how Mother Teresa could remain so humble in the face of all the great things she had a hand in making happen.
It comes to mind again now, and I think of the Roman Catholic church. Though I'm not fully versed in their theology and doctrine, I know there is a great emphasis placed on guilt and penance. (We watched a movie in Spanish class that was about a nun. Probably has something to do with it.)
I think to myself that this must be one reason why Catholicism is so popular. Perhaps it provides a structure within which people can justify their overachievement. I can see the appeal of accomplishing great things but being able to deflect accusations of pride with this sense of having a great failing and paying for it.
Can this be termed false humility?
I can't help but come back to Jesus. What would he think? He's the one who abolished the sacrificial system, the tit for tat, never-ending cycle in which we can never get ahead. The older you get, living that way, the more miserable you become. It's like holding a never-ending grudge against yourself.
I've made many mistakes in the last couple months, done a lot of things I'm not particularly proud of while accomplishing a lot of really good things. Fundamentally, genuinely good things. But I can't help but think that I'm driven in part by a sense of...fairness. Or, for the things that I've done wrong, I must make up by overcompensating. Compensation is the operative term...I shall pay for what I've done and then after that, make a positive contribution. Like my good deeds outweigh the bad. I have to do something bad to motivate me to do something good.
I realize it's empty. I find myself needing another sound motivation from which I can draw to do good things. I suppose that's where love comes in...I'm so far away from the things I learned as a child...where I am right now, I feel they're rare. There's so little love here...only vengeance. Spitefulness. Name-calling. Blaming. Yelling.
But I suppose complaining is not the way to fix it.
I'm trying to be an example of love. Loving deeds, mostly. It's hard to love someone you don't know that well. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I'm not so good at the joy part. Ironic, really.
No real conclusion...
Comments
That's the theory. In practice I often drown in false guilt on one side or become too full of myself on the other. Just being aware of the struggle helps, as does ongoing experience learning what is really right and wrong.
Glad you're thinking the deep thoughts and grappling with the big issues.