Hot Wings in Hell: Sin Compartmentalization in the Catholic Church
I don’t think I’m going to blow anyone’s hair back when I assert that there are a variety of rules in Catholicism. Going to mass every Sunday. Observing Holy Days. Getting to Confession at least once a year. Not eating an hour before receiving Communion. You get the gist.
I’m not here to say that any of this is bad. I have no problem with a religion providing guidelines for its faithful in order to prompt them to explore the many expressions of faith, hope, and charity.
However, I do think it’s problematic when a church “mandates” a spiritual practice. This not only fuels the salvation elitism that we see so often in various branches of Christianity, but can cause anxiety, fear, and scrupulosity among members of the organization who are genuinely trying to live good lives.
On a personal note, Church-imposed obligations have caused a lot of suffering in my life. Rather than fostering freedom and creativity in my spiritual life, its many ecclesial mandates have reduced God to a stern, celestial headmaster. I have never seen Him as a father, lover, or friend — and a big part of this has to do with what I perceive as the Catholic Church’s suffocating dedication to sin compartmentalization.
Compartmental Theology
Let’s start with one of the simplest mandates: abstaining from meat on Fridays during Lent. Disregarding this practice is generally considered a mortal sin. For those unfamiliar with the Catholic view of hierarchical sin, allow me to take a moment to clarify between “mortal” and “venial” transgressions. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states the following (it’s long, but bear with me):
Mortal sin destroys charity in the heart of man by a grave violation of God’s law; it turns man away from God, who is his ultimate end and his beatitude, by preferring an inferior good to him.
Venial sin allows charity to subsist, even though it offends and wounds it…Mortal sin, by attacking the vital principle within us — that is, charity — necessitates a new initiative of God’s mercy and a conversion of heart which is normally accomplished within the setting of the sacrament of reconciliation: When the will sets itself upon something that is of its nature incompatible with the charity that orients man toward his ultimate end, then the sin is mortal by its very object . . . whether it contradicts the love of God, such as blasphemy or perjury, or the love of neighbor, such as homicide or adultery. . . .
But when the sinner’s will is set upon something that of its nature involves a disorder, but is not opposed to the love of God and neighbor, such as thoughtless chatter or immoderate laughter and the like, such sins are venial…For a sin to be mortal, three conditions must together be met: “Mortal sin is sin whose object is grave matter and which is also committed with full knowledge and deliberate consent”…
Grave matter is specified by the Ten Commandments…Mortal sin requires full knowledge and complete consent. It presupposes knowledge of the sinful character of the act, of its opposition to God’s law. It also implies a consent sufficiently deliberate to be a personal choice.
(CCC, Section IV, par.1855–1859, 2nd edition)
Now, I have no problem with breaking grand theological concepts into easy-to-digest categories. The human mind often needs to compartmentalize (and trivialize) in order to understand complicated issues, especially when it comes to matters of mysticism and spirituality. My problem is that this “mortal sin” classification has become muddled by a Church that is too attached to its own labels. And we can’t afford to be wrong here because we are dealing with something that could allegedly send someone to Hell.
Now, let’s go back to the meat problem. If eating meat on a Lenten Friday is a mortal sin, that means having some chicken nuggets is the same thing in God’s eyes as embezzling a company, raping a woman, or murdering a child. Really? The Gospel is supposed to be about transformation, and we’re over here telling people that if they eat buffalo wings on a certain day of the week, they’re going to Hell? Isn’t that precisely the kind of legalism Jesus condemned? “They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.” (Matthew 23:4)
Further, as you saw above, in order for a sin to be considered mortal, it has to be committed with full knowledge and consent. However, St. Paul states that “we see through a glass darkly” (1 Corinthians 13:12). So how can any of us ever have claim to have full knowledge of anything we’re doing? What person truly knows goodness (aka God) and then turns away from it? Most people stumble through the darkness of this life, chasing what they believe is right and good. Of course, this doesn’t mean that their decisions actually are right, but wouldn’t God know their intention? “For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) Besides, don’t we frequently equate rejecting a specific religion with rejecting God? More often than not, don’t people really only reject a number of ideas they’ve been given about God? (And let’s be fair: some of those ideas deserve to be rejected.) Aren’t ideas all we can really have of God, a Being who surpasses all possible understanding and articulation? Would God really condemn people for having a wrong idea?
I don’t know how we can continue to say that finite, limited beings burn forever based on their ignorant and imperfect decisions, while simultaneously insisting God is just. Such a God is not just — nor worthy of adoration.
Final Thoughts
In the end, this teaching about mortal sin leads me to such troubling questions about the nature of God, and has caused me such crippling anxiety, that I question whether it’s ethically responsible to have it in the first place. Let it be noted that I am NOT saying there is no such thing as sin. I’m merely saying that these particular classifications have created a theology of fear. I truly don’t understand how some people can love God and believe in Hell at the same time.
I’ve never managed to do that.
