Good and evil

 

We have started watching Inside Man (BBC One). In a cast full of individual performances given to perfection, the chemistry between Stanley Tucci and Atkins Estimond as two inmates on death row is to die for.

The premise is that we are all murderers; you just need to meet the right person. And this is a true revelation of the human heart. There are no good people, and no evil people; just people, who are capable of doing inspirational good or unimaginable evil.

To train ourselves, then, we do not do good for reward, which is so often not forthcoming, but for its own beauty. This is, at least in part, why the apostle Paul writes, ‘Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.’ (Philippians 4:8)

And we turn away from evil, not for its punishments, for, indeed, evil is often unpunished, and many times rewarded, but on account of its emptiness.

The liturgy forms us, if we allow it.

In Baptism, we are asked to respond to four questions, not simply in the service but every day of our lives. We are reminded of this at every baptism we, the ekklesia or chosen company, participate in as supporters of the baptismal candidate. In their simplest form, these are:

Do you turn away from sin?

Do you reject evil?

Do you turn to Christ as Saviour?

Do you submit to him as Lord?

Then, whenever we come to Communion, we begin with the Prayer of Preparation, in which we acknowledge that the desires of our heart, including those we hide even from ourselves, can become disordered—that, among other things, we can do evil in pursuit of good, or, the wrong thing for the right reasons—and affirm our dependence on God’s holy and lifegiving Spirit to cleanse the thoughts of our hearts, that is, our capacity for choosing between good and evil.

Only then do we move to Confession, the confession that we have thought and said and done that which we ought not to have done, and neglected to do that which we ought to have done—we are speaking of moral responsibility, not To Do lists—and of our trust in God’s forgiveness. Indeed, it is only possible to be so radically honest about and to ourselves kneeling on the ground of divine absolution, not of commensurate consequence but of ultimate emptiness, of being cut off from beauty, from Life.

And we must return to these truths again and again; for, even priests forget them.