• Human Reefs Need Saving Too

    Coral polyps are soft, fleshy creatures that form exoskeletons to survive. Similarly, human beings are vital souls whose efforts to repel evil and cultivate goodness yield formal systems that demarcate a society.

    The bright colors of a thriving reef come from the algae that corals farm for nutrients. In human societies, the cultural colors of comedy, tragedy, eroticism and remorse all require fixed boundaries to exist.

    The intricate spaces of coral reefs provide shelter to small fish, because large predators cannot penetrate the narrow fissures. In a human society, a cultural system of taboos and expectations protects the weak by limiting and directing the actions of the strong.

    Blast fishing explodes dynamite to stun fish so that many can be netted quickly. Collateral damage is the destruction of coral reefs with their dependent ecosystems. For generations, Western societies have employed a blast-fishing approach for material progress at the expense of spiritual infrastructure.

    The Judeo-Christian  ban against idolatry, the charge to revere the name of God were exploded to make way for the supersize ego. Holy sabbaths, interdiction of envy crumbled in the path of economic expansion. Honoring father and mother, refraining from adultery blew up when familial bonds got in the way of individual self-interest. It’s not just that the Ten Commandments are no longer held sacred: there is no longer any concept of the sacred.

    People who still seek wholeness and holiness find themselves immersed in a toxic waste and shudder daily at the shocks of brutality let loose in their midst. Suddenly grotesque violence explodes. But from repetition we have become numb even to that.

    Not all of the destruction is accidental. Ideological campaigns to erase all formal boundaries have explicitly targeted moral restrictions. Big players blast away at ethical barriers in the name of freedom. For large egos, freedom requires the total elimination of all structures.

    No boundary, ergo no transgression. No transgression, ergo no guilt. No guilt, ergo no pain. The sales pitch has been a promise to eradicate pain. It is as a form of pain that guilt has been banished. The lure of numbness generates enormous profits for peddlers of drugs and distractions. Millions too zoned out to react to their own destruction float into the nets of profiteers.

    In this wasteland devoid of impeding structures, Homo neuroticus thrashes about. Neuroticus used to be a rare breed and was called “crazy” in the vernacular. Psychologists of a previous era observed an association between neuroticus and guilt, but they didn’t have many specimens to analyze. Freudians assumed that neuroticus must be the offspring of guilt, because the two were often seen together.

    Neuroticus is insensitive to humor, grief and remorse. It must contort itself to get sexual pleasure. It expends furious energy to control everything in its environment. But it cannot control itself.

    Neuroticus experiences its own impulses as irresistible. Its ego prevents it from admitting that it could ever do anything wrong. With no cultural boundaries to limit its movements, neuroticus becomes larger and larger and hungrier and hungrier. No joke can live in the vicinity of neuroticus. No sorrow clings. Mercy has fled. 

    Can the bleached skeleton of this cultural desert revive?

    The wrecking would have to stop. We would have to cultivate once more a moral system of formal behaviors that define right living.

    The part of us that fights evil is our conscience. Our conscience is the spiritual organ that corresponds to our physical nervous system. Just as your nerves react when you’ve injured yourself and produce pain, so your conscience reacts when you’ve incurred spiritual damage by doing wrong. A healthy conscience can feel qualms, remorse, contrition. A robust conscience can move you to repent and change your behavior. The ability to feel guilty enables you to survive spiritually, just as the ability to feel pain enables you to survive physically.

    Neither the body nor the soul can live long in a state of numbness or indifference. Temporarily you may feel relief from evil when moral limits disappear from your habitat. But then the murky haze of a featureless landscape disorients you.

    You become neuroticus. Anything and everything in the cloudy murk triggers a spasmodic reaction. Soon you too are lashing out aimlessly, inflicting harm on those around you.

    Guilt is not the parent of neuroticus. Guilt is its guide through the deep. When you have a sense of where the boundaries are, you can direct your actions purposefully.

    Bring the reef back. We could laugh again. We could weep together. We could live.

    Hate the urgings of self-will.  (Rule of Saint Benedict 4. 60)

    Home » psychology
  • Curb Your Urge

    For this reason Scripture warns us, Pursue not your lusts Sirach 18:30.  (Rule of St. Benedict 7.25)

    We live in a culture where it’s supposed to be fun to let yourself go.  People announce that they’re about to let themselves go, and then they do it.  Not only do they not feel shame: they expect you to pat them on the back.  Most of the time they act with good humor, and with no thought of harming themselves or anyone else.  The binge is benign these days.

    Until it’s not.  The fact is that we have countless people who are suffering the tragic consequences of their own impulses–or worse, of someone else’s.  Some of them refuse to admit responsibility.  But others are discouraged, because they’ve tried and failed to change.

    Self-control is not an instant thing.  It’s the work of a lifetime.  It’s the practice of a life well-lived.

    If you want to be an athlete or an artist or any sort of skilled worker, you start at the beginning and practice basic moves first.  Checking your own impulse is one of the most basic moves of all.  It’s an element of any future action.  It’s not just that refraining from one action frees up time and energy for an alternative.  Curbing your impulse also builds strength and skill.  These in turn open up new possibilities that would otherwise have remained out of reach.

    A century of Freudian psychology has led us to assume that checking an impulse means repressing desire.  When you repress a desire, you don’t act on it, but it comes out in some other, weird way that you don’t control and that you may not even be aware of.  So you might as well let yourself go.

    Suffering the consequences?  That’s someone else’s specialty.  Next, please.

    The difference between self-control and repression is that self-control does not suppress desire.  Self-control nurtures and trains desire.  While the binge lets desire loose, without regard for other people, self-control keeps desire on a leash and exercises it with consideration for others.

    The lure of the binge is easy pleasure fast.  But the thrill tends to decrease with repetition.  You work harder to get less.  And you suffer the side effects.  With self-control, on the other hand, you start small, but the enjoyment increases with practice.  And the horizons are infinite.

    The best the binge can claim is not to have harmed anyone else.  But self-control allows you to do good to others actively.

    People who can’t control their impulses only get along with others who want to do the same thing at the same time in the same way.  When a whole collection of individuals are all out of control together, they meld into a mob.  The mob tramples any divergent individual.  But then the frenzy burns out, and the mob disperses.  The same individuals go back to competing ruthlessly against each other.  They separate, each alone with an ungoverned desire.  The endpoint is a life without any relationships at all: just interactions that serve the appetite.

    But self-control allows you to live in community.  Christian community aims not to meld but to harmonize individual desires.  It’s a complex challenge, but by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, we do make a life together.  This calls for active participation on the part of each one, rather than a passive letting go.

    Life in a family is a training ground for harmony.  Baby learns to sleep at night long enough for Mom to get the rest she needs.  Baby learns to go for longer without eating, so that eventually the child’s habits match the habits of the family.  In practice this effort takes years, and every time a new baby arrives, another individual process is thrown into the mix.  Easy is not part of the deal.

    But the endpoint is paradise, which Jesus describes as a banquet Matthew 22:1-14; 25:1-13.  A banquet is a fancy dinner where people dress their best, eat together and enjoy each other’s company.  When you have a family sitting down to a meal together, you have a foretaste of heaven.  The food may be simple.  The clamor around your table may not sound divine.  But consider what you’ve achieved: you’ve taken human beings from a state of chaos to a state of sociability.  Even if it’s not yet heaven, it is the foundation of civil society, and that’s something no one should take for granted.

    Ultimately: heaven.  Here and now: a functioning society.  Earliest of all: a family meal.  But it all begins with harmonizing individual impulses.  And so, each one of us must achieve a measure of self-control.

    Home » psychology
  • Yield Your Imagination

    Our thoughts are always present to God… God searches hearts and minds Psalm 7:10….  The Lord knows the thoughts of men Psalm 94:11….  From afar you know my thoughts Psalm 139:2….  That he may take care to avoid sinful thoughts, the virtuous brother must always say to himself: I shall be blameless in his sight if I guard myself from my own wickedness Psalm 18:24. (Rule of St. Benedict 7.14-18)

    Invite the Holy Spirit into the house of your mind Romans 12:2 ; Revelation 3:20.  The dark and horrible corridors hold no terror for him.  Hand him the keys, and you will find that the doors you tried so hard to keep locked will soon be propped open.  A ray of light will penetrate even fearful corners.  A breath of air will stir in stagnant places.  The Holy Spirit will not demolish your imagination: he will inhabit it.

    Your imagination is not the part of yourself that you must overcome.  Rather, your imagination is the organ God endows you with to help do the overcoming.  Just as he designed the human body with a liver that filters out toxins and aids in digestion, he designed the human mind with imagination.  If you were never exposed to toxins, you wouldn’t need the liver to be the heaviest organ in your body.  If you were living in the Garden of Eden, an impure thought would never enter your mind.  But even if you lived in a pristine environment, you wouldn’t necessarily do the right thing in it.  Adam and Eve certainly didn’t.  Conversely, history shows that the holiest people have often been exposed to terrible things.  Removal from contamination does not guarantee righteousness.  Proximity to evil does not produce sin.

    It’s true that moral toxins can overwhelm the imagination, just as alcohol abuse can overwhelm the liver. You shouldn’t expose yourself deliberately to poisonous influences.  But day after day, a functioning imagination helps us process the moral challenges to which a fallen world exposes us.

    For example, there are occasions when the task that duty calls you to is onerous, boring or repellent.  When you’re cleaning up vomit off the floor, should you fully engage in the moment with all of your faculties?  Because the sight and smell of vomit can induce such nausea that you’ll be unable to complete the task.  In such a situation, the imagination offers a way to distance yourself–to redirect your attention–so that you can complete the task without quite focusing on it.  At the end of the day, right action remains the standard of right living.  If your weird fantasy helped you do your duty, then you’re in better shape than the people who ran away from responsibility because they couldn’t enjoy the moment.

    The imagination also serves as an aid to right living when we rehearse various options for behavior.  When we’re angry, we may imagine any number of phrases we could say to the person who has offended us, or vengeful actions we could take.  But what do we actually say and do?  The imagination gives us a way to consider the consequences of wrong behaviors without actually living them out.  Sometimes it’s only through the process of imagining a wrong behavior that we come to feel that it is wrong.  The important question is whether, after imagining our options, we reject the wrong and choose the right.

    A third way that imagination helps us is by entering into evil, not to embrace it, but to combat it.  If you want to vanquish evil, you must gain an understanding of how it works.  Not all thinking about evil things is sinful, not anymore than working with a deadly virus is sinful, if your goal is to find a vaccine.  However, you must take precautions.  Don’t underestimate the thing you’re called to combat.

    Your imagination also provides a place to escape to, when you’re too weary to cope with reality.  Sometimes your fantasy reveals a specific stressor that you need to address.  In constrained situations, the escape into fantasy may be the best alternative available.  We live in a culture with fewer physical challenges than ever before in human history, but with overwhelming mental challenges that produce chronic psychological exhaustion.

    God knows all of this.  Even in our most intimate, most embarrassing, most bizarre moments, we can always turn to God and ask for grace to grow into habitable dwellings for the Holy Spirit.  When we feel ourselves inclined to evil, we should admit it and ask for strength to behave rightly.  Entrust your thoughts to God, and keep dreaming.

    Home » psychology