Scrupulosity in Anxious Times

Dominican Father Patrick Hyde (Twitter: @frpatrickop) recently tweeted:

For those desiring the Sacrament of Confession: Perfect contrition, flowing from love of God, expressed by a sincere request for forgiveness (like praying the act of contrition) & with the intention to go to sacramental confession as soon as possible, obtains forgiveness of sins.
“Upon the Sacrament being made available to you again, you should get to Confession as soon as possible and confess these sins. But, in this time of crisis and chaos, God’s mercy remains readily available. 

Father Hyde meant, and did, very well here. The drama of life, however, includes human anxiety, suspiciousness,  implications and inferences everywhere.

Cue the genuine concern of, or on behalf of, the scrupulous person, who questions whether his or her contrition is ever perfect.

Scrupulosity is Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder directed toward moral matters. It is fueled by anxiety, which I term “the allergies of mental illness” (along the same lines that depression is its common cold).

It’s fair enough to say that there is a truth to be known and a goodness to be done. But with scrupulosity, the feverish drive for exactness is operative. ”Did I just sin here? Did I confess this sin properly? Did I perform my penance precisely as given?” 

The fear of eternal damnation registers highly, as well as the oppressive sense of quotidian sinfulness that prior generations termed “Catholic guilt” and used sometimes as a red herring to justify their abandonment of the Catholic faith. 

Detractors suggest that their teachers, especially women religious, were encouraging scrupulosity—not intentionally, I’d hope. I trust they wanted their charges to be faithful Catholics and no more/less; why wouldn’t they? But be an impressionable child, be a hormonally-laden teenager, and your impression might be otherwise.

(Be a wounded and sinful adult, and the impression you give might be corrupt. I’d be foolish to exclude that likelihood in many cases; hence our current scandals.)

Faithful Catholicism, faithful discipleship, includes detesting sin and seeking virtue. Lacking the tools and relationship to cultivate the latter in many cases, it becomes easier to foster the former and hope for the best.

Somewhere in my diagnostic history I was told I had a mild OCD along with a mild to moderate depression. I think that still is the case. I have an addictive personality, by which I mean not that people easily become addicted to me, but I to whatever item, practice or person interests me. Since those earlier assessments I think I’ve qualified for ADHD. I don’t want to levy these terms indiscriminately.

To return to the original Tweetroversy (it wasn’t really an argument, thank God, it was more of a dialogue, though the original poster—wisely?—added nothing further; maybe he muted the conversation):

When someone mentioned the scrupulous person’s doubts regarding “perfection” in contrition, I returned to Father Hyde’s tweet: the act of perfect contrition “flow[s] from love of God.” The traditional Act of Contrition speaks to God as “All-Good, and deserving of all my love.” 

It does not, incidentally, affirm the praying person’s love for God, only God’s worthiness of it and my offense of God by sin. Love has its own “Act” prayer, worth investigating and offering.

After reading this conversation, I entered the Divine Conversation of the Liturgy, where I heard Jesus’ scathing rebuke of those Jews opposed to Him (typically referred to as “the Jews”). It included, “...I know that you do not have the love of God in you” (Jn 5:42). If that doesn’t turn one into a pillar of salt, what would?

Elsewhere Saint John declared, “Perfect love casts out all fear” (1 Jn 4:18). That takes us back to *perfect* contrition, and for that matter, the dominical command to be “perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:48). Here perfect is not “flawless,” but rather “as intended, following form and intention” (Gk teleios).

The scrupulous person can affirm, even if shakingly and wobblily as human lovers do, that he or she loves God. “Well, I fear God more than I love Him,” one might retort. 

Pare it down: Do you love Him at all? Do you want to be His friend and not His slave (cf. Jn 15:15)? Do you love Him more than “these,” as Jesus asks Peter, where “these” usually is thought of as the apostles gathered with them both, but we can extrapolate it into earthly relationships and attachments. 

Do you love Me more than the thrill of alcohol, lust, drugs, gambling, acquiring and spending, oversatiety, trying to control others, you name it (and claim it!)

—The addict, deep down, especially the “recovering” one (the one wanting to change and grow), may say, “I love You, Lord; help me love You more than *these*!”

—The scrupulous, deep down, may say, “I love You, Lord; help me love You more than I fear the effects of turning away from You, or the uncertainties I have about my distance from You or Your love for me.”

If you can say you love God, that is, as one poster acknowledged, “a concrete first step.”

Maybe the first first step is as the addicts in recovery might frame it for the scrupulous: “I am powerless over my thoughts and feelings concerning sin and perfection; my life is unmanageable.” The second step: “I came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.”

Then: I made a decision to turn my will and my life [thoughts and actions] over to the care of God as I understood Him.” Trust motivates that turning-over (surrender) of will and life. Trust is a ray from the sun of love.

* * *

Another tweeter returned the conversation in the direction intended by the OP (get it? Original Poster/Ordo Praedicatorum? I’ll show myself out, but not before finishing this thought):

Viz: The reaffirmation of the forgiveness God gives in response to the Act of Perfect Contrition (sorry because I love God, Whom my sins offend), coupled with the intention to confess appropriately at the first available opportunity.

These anxious times have everyone by the tissues, not just the diagnosed. Anxious because many parishes now offer Confession even less than they had before COVID-19. Anxious because here is a life-threat that discriminates not. Faithful and seasonal Catholics won’t likely participate in Easter Mass because this virus shows no signs of abatement, neither will the in-place restrictions (at least I hope not, @RealDonald...)

“I may not get to make my Easter Duty [Communion at least once from the start of Lent to Trinity Sunday, and Confession of serious sins before Easter if possible]!” If it doesn’t happen because of the in-place restrictions and the limits of local pastoral offering, it’s not your fault that you didn’t make it unless you never intended to. And even there, if God spares, there’s still a chance to go, and at least this priest happily would facilitate that.

* * *

Obiter dictum: I am not a mental health practitioner or theoretician. I do not possess a  degree in Moral Theology. I am a parish priest working with the best available knowledge that I have accessed. I dare not give specific advice online regarding “internal forum” (confessional-worthy or confessed) matters. Please refer to your regular/local for such.

For more information and support (again, not as a substitute for one’s Confessor and Spiritual Director, as it will insist): https://scrupulousanonymous.org/

Most Recent. Christmas. Ever.

From the clergy, staff, and faithful of Holy Guardian Angels Parish, prayerful best wishes on this day of the Lord's Nativity! Following is the gist of my Christmas homily.

On this day priests can experience a kind of “performance anxiety,” not unlike many people feel in the interest of making this the “Best. Christmas. Ever.” You see, your friends and family deserve Pinterest-worthy trees, crafts, and cookies, conversation free of even the potential for annoyance and criticism. Well, I preach and write to hundreds of people who are reliable regulars, like…Walter Cronkite, Norm on “Cheers,” or the songs on a Top-40 station for about two months. I also recognize others on the parish roll who choose to participate only on this day and perhaps a few others. Some of you are home from college or from your own families. You may be visiting (or "browsing") from another parish, another locale, or another faith…and some, I suspect, are among the largest growing religious identification: that is, of no particular faith.

On this day, and in general, I want not only to welcome everyone, but to please everyone as well! Maybe you can identify with that impossible dream! Given the tremendous expectations surrounding the holidays, the pain of loss (of loved ones, of employment), marital and family strife, not to mention the general sense of discontentment in the world, can you understand how this time of year is so difficult for so many?

It seems necessary to remind myself, and all of you, that we are not the focus of this and every celebration of the Eucharist. The focus is earth’s reception of her King—a reception for which we are, at root, unworthy; yet nonetheless we strive to be properly disposed. We call Jesus our “Savior,” even though a great many people question what, if anything, we need to be saved from. With an honest appraisal we would identify the effects of original and personal sin in our lives, amounting to a widespread lack of appreciation for God’s many blessings, especially human dignity. 

Scarcely do we realize the great trust that the Lord has placed in His rational creatures, giving us the freedom either to embrace or reject His wise and loving plan! The rejection of that plan, I submit, contributes to the tensions of the world and in our families, although it also has a way of opening our hearts to the redemption and renewal that only God can give.

The first and last word on this holy day comes from the angel Gabriel who spoke to Joseph and Mary: “Be not afraid.” God has forever and completely entered the muck of human existence, to purify and elevate it beyond our imaginings. Be not afraid, then, to trust God with your resources, your relationships, your virtues and sins, indeed your entire life! Be not afraid to give, but also to receive! Be that innkeeper who makes room for the Christ and His parents—not just today, but every day. Come to the feeding trough—Bethlehem, the “house of bread”—to receive heavenly nourishment so that, in turn, you can nourish others in need. United to the God who became flesh in Jesus, who knows what miracles can be born in your flesh?

The House of Bread

Apocalypse Eventually

First, a commercial for a brother priest in the blogosphere, "A Concord Pastor Comments." Fr. Austin Fleming offers daily prayers in print and audio. This link takes you to today's post, a prayer for the victims of the Philippines' Typhoon Haiyan. This link enables you to make a donation toward the efforts of Catholic Relief Services.

Second, a reflection on today's readings: selections from the "apocalyptic" genre. The sacred writers of apocalyptic works (e.g. later prophets, Revelation) used startling imagery and strange expressions to give hope to persecuted people. One commentator, Jesuit Father Jim Harbaugh, considers apocalyptic a strong pain-relieving medication for the soul. If you take too much of this medicine, especially when you're not in such grave pain, you can start to "need" it when you really don't--feel like you're being persecuted when you really aren't.

Consider the excitement over various apparitions, locutions, etc. Pope Francis had something to say just the other day about this craze. Now, we clearly affirm the numerous apparitions that have gained ecclesiastical recognition. Most apparitions contain nothing contradictory to the Faith, and indeed emphasize the "basics" of repentance and prayer, the unique role of Our Lady in the divine plan; but the Scriptures, Catechism, and Liturgy have all the revelation I need. Knowing my personality, I could easily get caught up in extraordinary iterations; the ordinary does enough to me.

The prophet Malachi foretold the coming of the "Day of the Lord" in terms of an all-consuming fire that would reduce sinners to stubble but reflect well on the righteous. Jesus sternly warned about the destruction of the Temple and related upheavals on the national and family levels. Read such Scriptures out of context, add your own anxieties and fears, and you have a prescription for madness.

The key to understanding the first reading and Gospel often can be found in the second reading. Today, Paul addresses the Thessalonians, many of whom were caught up in the possibility that Jesus should return soon. In the face of rampant persecution by the Empire, the Second Coming was a welcome prospect! Unfortunately these people also prematurely withdrew from daily concerns, contributing nothing but grief to the larger community.

Addicts, self-centered people--to some extent, all of us--share the traits of "apocalypse junkies": a penchant for excitement ("drama"); preoccupation with our feelings, especially those we label "bad";  a desire to medicate (with food, alcohol, pornography, spending, even prayer at the expense of tangible needs!).  If everything is just "going to hell in a hand basket," why bother caring?

Instead of losing patience with how slowly events unfold and people change in this world, St. Paul suggests quiet and steadfast work: efforts of daily prayer and service, fidelity to worship and obedience to the Lord's commands. With a return to responsibilities, curiosities fade away.

Perhaps the clever insight of a modern humorist, (+)George Carlin, can illustrate the point: "Some people see things that are and ask, Why? Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not? Some people have to go to work and don't have time for all that..."

Of course, we don't necessarily have to be employed; we just have to get out of ourselves. A friendly phone call, e-mail, or visit--or any spiritual or corporal work of mercy--is a great restorative that heals us as much as its intended recipient!

As with potato chips, one doesn't tend to suffice: hence Jesus' prescription for "perseverance" (Lk 21:19). One "I love you" doesn't count for the duration of a marriage, unless you want it to have Kardashian longevity. One workout doesn't render you physically fit. One prayer does not maintain communication with God until our last breath--unless, of course, we happen to be praying at our last breath.

It's one of many crazy paradoxes in our holy faith. We have to take it seriously, but take it easy.

Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad

34 Προσέχετε δὲ ἑαυτοῖς μήποτε βαρηθῶσιν ⸂ὑμῶν αἱ καρδίαι⸃ ἐν κραιπάλῃ καὶ μέθῃ καὶ μερίμναις βιωτικαῖς, καὶ ⸂ἐπιστῇ ἐφʼ ὑμᾶς αἰφνίδιος⸃ ἡ ἡμέρα ἐκείνη 35 ὡς παγίς· ⸂ἐπεισελεύσεται γὰρ⸃ ἐπὶ πάντας τοὺς καθημένους ἐπὶ πρόσωπον πάσης τῆς γῆς. 36 ἀγρυπνεῖτε ⸀δὲ ἐν παντὶ καιρῷ δεόμενοι ἵνα ⸀κατισχύσητε ἐκφυγεῖν ⸀ταῦτα πάντα τὰ μέλλοντα γίνεσθαι, καὶ σταθῆναι ἔμπροσθεν τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου.

"Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy
from carousing and drunkenness
and the anxieties of daily life,
and that day catch you by surprise like a trap.
For that day will assault everyone
who lives on the face of the earth.
Be vigilant at all times
and pray that you have the strength
to escape the tribulations that are imminent
and to stand before the Son of Man." (Lk 21:34-36)

How's for two out of three?  (It works for Meatloaf...)

It's like, Jesus knows human nature and has no need of human testimony or something: He picks out three rather salient sidetracking devices to exhort people against moral lassitude.

Most of my readers, I trust, have little carousing experience to note (though perhaps they've been on a carousel--I checked it, no etymological relationship).  Perhaps a few have had episodic drunkenness (and, boy, what episodes!).  But what for the anxieties of daily life?

Quotidian qualms can distract one's heart from the pursuit of God just as well as any sinful substance or activity.  In fact, recovering addicts often report that anxiety (and its cousins, excitement and depression) has become their new drug of choice!  Our cares were always around, even when using or drinking or whatever, but there was hardly any mental energy to appreciate them for what they were.

Excitement, depression, and anxiety have to do with the emotions.  Many people have a hard time dealing with their emotions.  They make a wonderful servant, but a poor master.  Yet how often, and to what disastrous ends, we have it in reverse (with the parking brake on...with our wheels up on cinder blocks...or without wheels)!

"That day will assault everyone"..."That day" is the Day of the Lord, often attested by the prophets as the Lord's final visitation of the earth.  The concept predated the Incarnation, so the prophets didn't know that "the Day of the Lord" would feature a divine Person in human flesh.  Ever the prophet, Jesus then picked up on the concept of the Day as the moment of His own glorious return.

"Assault"...the Greek verb has two prepositions built into it: epi and eis.  Literally, "to come upon and into"--think of an eagle snatching its unsuspecting next meal.  Yeah, that sudden.

It is easy, Jesus says, to dull our spiritual sense, so that we are not aware of His Presence.  This past week I devoted a few days to recovering that necessary vigilance.  I don't foresee any imminent tribulations, but who does?  Whenever He deems appropriate, the Son of Man will summon me to Himself.  Only with His strength can I prepare each day for that wondrous moment.