The fallacy of self-reform

Here are two quotations from The Picture of Dorian Gray, which deserve to be placed under the light of scripture or discussed in the context of personal experience, but I don't have the time or patience right now. Suffice it to say that the observations which Oscar Wilde makes on confession, conscience and good intentions are terrifyingly accurate.

"Three o'clock struck, and four, and the half-hour rang its double chime, but Dorian Gray did not stir. He was trying to gather up the scarlet threads of life, and to weave them into a pattern; to find his way through the sanguine labyrinth of passion through which he was wandering. He did not know what to do, or what to think. Finally, he went over to the table, and wrote a passionate letter to the girl he had loved, imploring her forgiveness, and accusing himself of madness. He covered page after page with wild words of sorrow, and wilder words of pain. There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. When Dorian had finished the letter, he felt that he had been forgiven. " (pg. 106)

"Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious emotions that have a certain charm for the weak. That is all that can be said for them. They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account." (pg. 111)

Follow me

I helped the first sergeant PT the remedials this morning. We jogged down to a quarter mile track and started running laps. 8 laps would be timed, he said, with a catch-your-breath lap between each. I was the pace setter for the "cheetahs", the group of 11 Marines who had to sprint around the track in 1:30 (if there were stragglers, the lap wouldn't count for anyone).

We made the first few on time, but before long I was crossing the line with only one or two on my heels. The rest were doing their best, and wretching spiritedly on the side of the track after each lap, but it was clear that the group could no longer make the 1:30. In consequence, we would keep running until the first sergeant got tired. To make sure we understood that failure was not acceptable, he hollered for me to increase the pace on the jog laps.

We were somewhere around our 9th or 10th lap (not including the jog laps), when the thought that only four had counted began to irk some of the Marines. Not to mention that we had yet to even start on the crunches, pushups, and chin-ups. I decided to address the murmering behind me: "You need to give it all you got on this next lap, oo-rah? We know we're not going to make time anymore, but when you think about it, it's an easy day. All you gotta do is run. Run until you're dry-heaving and the first sergeant will smile and we'll call it a day."

I often feel that life is like that. I become overwhelmed by the requirements and responsibilities of work, relationships, and most of all, the raw dispair of being so sinful. I not only fall short, I see no way to improve enough to make standard. I just keep going around and around, the same old broken pathetic sinner, making God more angry with every lap.

In one sense, what God requires of us is impossible--to go and sin no more--but like this morning's PT, he knows we are weak and there is another standard hidden behind the rules. Sometimes in the gospels, Jesus makes the way of salvation very difficult. He said that whoever is angry is a murderer, and whoever lusts is an adulterer. He told the rich young ruler that following the Ten Commandments was not enough and that he must also go sell everything he owned; but Jesus also simplified the divine precepts: "Follow me." Being a Christian is hard when viewed as a list of commandments, but we are really only required to try. We must give up everything--leave all and follow him--to die to ourselves--but the mortification of the flesh, taken step by step, is nothing more than deciding to follow Jesus. It is loving God, it is desiring to be cleansed, it is believing that he is willing to forgive.

It's a lousy analogy, I know, but tonight at least it is a comfort to me. I don't have to be perfect, I only have to want to be. God is not actually angry--he's just yelling so I press on, and it's for my own good.

-Kevin
(with apologies in advance to the theologically minded)

Hitting a deer at 70mph

Don't worry, it wasn't me, but check this out!


(Mr. Tumnus, is that you?)