<div dir="ltr"><h1 class="m_289573291113797426gmail-article-title">Why Catholic guilt is good for you</h1>
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<div class="m_289573291113797426gmail-article-author">by <b><a href="http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/author/michael-davis/" title="Posts by Michael Davis" rel="author" target="_blank">Michael Davis</a></b></div>
<div class="m_289573291113797426gmail-article-date">posted <time datetime="2017-09-07 11:10:00">Thursday, 7 Sep 2017</time></div><div class="m_289573291113797426gmail-article-date"><time datetime="2017-09-07 11:10:00"><a href="http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/issues/september-8th-2017/why-catholic-guilt-is-good-for-you/" target="_blank">http://www.catholicherald.co.<wbr>uk/issues/september-8th-2017/<wbr>why-catholic-guilt-is-good-<wbr>for-you/</a><br></time></div>
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<div class="m_289573291113797426gmail-article-featured"><img src="http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/content/uploads/2017/09/P23-Confession-800x500.jpg" class="m_289573291113797426gmail-featured-image m_289573291113797426gmail-wp-post-image" alt="" style="margin-right: 0px;" width="483" height="302"> <div class="m_289573291113797426gmail-featured-caption">
Since becoming Catholic, I’ve fallen madly in love with the confessional (Getty Images) </div>
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<p class="m_289573291113797426gmail-article-standfirst">'Since becoming Catholic, I’ve fallen madly in love with the confessional'</p>
<p>Nothing quite irritates the spleen like that phrase “recovering
Catholic”. It used to be that folks who drifted away from the Church
were lapsed – not a phrase you hear much in, say, the Cof E, where it is
assumed that one is not practising unless otherwise stated. Now
everyone’s “recovering”, as if Catholicism were a close relative of
alcoholism.</p>
<p>What exactly are they recovering from? Why, the guilt, of course –
the infamous Catholic guilt. When they were only young, Father
McSomething would stoop up to the pulpit and explain how their girlish
little sins would land them an eternity stewing in Lucifer’s pot roast,
which is mostly potatoes and the meat is white with fat.</p>
<p>I met many recovering Catholics in the Anglican churches of my youth.
They are a natural home for people who like the trappings of Rome but
prefer Canterbury’s moral relativism: “Only God can judge you, but He’d
rather not. Here: throw some more incense in the thurible.”</p>
<p>I don’t pine for the full <i>Angela’s Ashes</i> treatment, but I
wish I had had some Catholic guilt growing up. The only thing worse than
an overbearing parent is a negligent one. As a mainline Protestant in
Catholic schools, I was made to sit through all the First Confession
classes, the teachers listing the sins one must tell the priest or else
Catholic Jesus would be extremely cross. (Don’t swear, don’t touch
yourself, don’t put your elbows on the table, etc.) It made me feel
inadequate. Didn’t Protestant Jesus care whether I was a good person?</p>
<p>I found myself dwelling on one chapter from early childhood: that
blissful period when you’re old enough to tell right from wrong, but on a
purely theoretical level. I found a $20 bill on my counter top and
aimlessly shoved it in my pocket. Then, an hour later, Dad called me
into the kitchen. “Michael, have you seen the 20 I left here?” I shook
my head no; but, seeing how distressed he was, I took it from my pocket
and said: “You can have mine, though.” The look of unfathomable
disappointment he gave me was worse than any slap on the rear.</p>
<p>The Church teaches that there are two reasons to avoid sin. One is
fear of hell, which is sufficient; the other is love of God, which is
perfect. The former is what everyone means by “Catholic guilt”, and
should really be called Catholic fear. The latter, the love of God, is
Catholic guilt – and it’s a wonderful thing.</p>
<p>Guilt isn’t, after all, the feeling you get when the headmaster calls
you into his office for fighting in the playground, which I relished. I
strutted down those hallways bursting with pride, jutting out by
bruised jaw and looking down my bloody nose. Fear is imperfect, if only
because we might find the sin is worth the sanction. Guilt is the
feeling you get when Dad finds out that you – his child, for whom he’d
give his very life – have pilfered a measly $20. That’s perfect
contrition. Fear is born of selfishness; guilt of love.</p>
<p>Anyway, because I knew God loved me, I knew I had it in my power to
disappoint Him. But my Anglican pastors refused to tell me how. In fact,
they seemed more intent on telling me what God wouldn’t be upset with
me for. He’d love me even if I was promiscuous, or drunk, or Buddhist.
And no doubt they were right. But I could get all that from Miley Cyrus
and Lady Gaga. Surely the Church doesn’t exist to tell God how to be a
good Father, but to teach us how to be good sons and daughters. I fell
into a state the Church calls despair and became what she calls
scrupulous. I was obsessed with the sins I wasn’t sure I was committing.
My prayers were very little more than, “Please, God, whatever I’m doing
wrong, forgive me.”</p>
<p>Which is why, since becoming Catholic, I’ve fallen madly in love with
the confessional. The Church has this down to a science. She follows
the formula every mother knows: “Your Father’s upset with you for X, but
don’t worry. Do Y to show how sorry you are, and never do it again.”
Then, finally, that blessed assurance: “Of course He still loves you.
Don’t be silly.”</p>
<p>Imperfect as we all are, we can’t help but disappoint those we love
most. There are only two ways to shake off that guiltiness:
reconciliation or apostasy. We can either confess our sins and do
penance, or we can turn God out of our hearts altogether.</p>
<p>This is my plea to lapsed (or “recovering”, if you must) Catholics:
please don’t run from your guilt. Don’t turn your back on God. Just go
talk to your Mum. She’ll know what to do.</p>
<p><i>Michael Davis is the Catholic Herald’s US commissioning editor</i></p></div><div id="DAB4FAD8-2DD7-40BB-A1B8-4E2AA1F9FDF2"><br> <table style="border-top:1px solid #d3d4de">
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