This series of four articles was written for the Yahoo Contributors Network back before my husband died, but they've decided to go out of business and the publishing rights to my content is reverting back to me. So to preserve them, I've decided to move my "sins" articles to my blog. Please indulge me if they don't necessarily relate to my post-widowhood life. Then again, I'm not perfect so sin is still a part of my life....
I
want the husband who lives two doors down. Oh, not because he's a
reasonably good looking for a man of his dubious age of fifty-something
or because he tends to walk around without a shirt in the summers,
showing off a good set of pectoral muscles and chiseled abs. And not
because he's still got plenty of dark hair on his head that he wears
long, just brushing his shoulders. Nor do I lust after him because he's
got a confident walk that says he can slay all the suburban dragons and
lawn slugs in the neighborhood. He's got a baby-smooth chest, too, that's been played on a
lot; you can tell this is true because it's void of all hair except for a
fine, dark line under his navel that points downward towards the Forest
of Forbidden Fruit. That's an old joke about
no-grass-growing-on-a-playground, but what do you expect from an old
woman doing the voyeur thing out her kitchen window?
No, I want this
guy because he does what turns on most women of all ages. He works. He
hauls stones and landscape timbers around and splits logs for his fire
pit. He feeds the tomatoes and the birds, pets the neighborhood cats,
and he walks back and forth behind a Toro lawn mower. And---be still my
heart---he shovels snow in the winter. Almost every night in the
summertime I can glance out the window and see this guy with his wheel
barrow filled with sacks of bird seed or fertilizer and I get this warm
fuzzy feeling like I'm looking back in time to when Don, my husband,
probably gave the neighborhood ladies a thrill as he did manly things in
the yard. Oh, no! I'm dating myself. Forgive me, all you female lawn
service people and other women who like to compare weed killers and
sprinkler heads over your back fences. I truly don't believe in dividing
hobbies and occupations up by the sexes.
We have a lawn care
service. I'd like to fire the guy, but I have no real reason other than I
don't like the way he wears his wrap-around sunglasses and he treats me
and Don like he wouldn't be caught dead smiling at old people. He makes
his helper do that. Mr. Too-Cool-For-Words is a long, lean bad-boy
type. Late twenties, owns the company, a jerk-face who does a great job
on our lawn but who needs a personality transplant. By contrast, the
fifty-something neighbor smiles, waves and goes out of his way to talk
to my wheelchair bound husband and he once told me to let him know if I
need any help. He's a mechanic by trade, so if I ever need my battery
jumped---on the car---I have a go-to guy. He reminds me of Don before
his stroke...always busy, but always friendly with a soft spot for
helping his elders. Ah yes, what is there NOT to lust over with this guy?
I'm hoping, of course, that you all know that I use the word "lust" in
a metaphorical way. I'm not really lusting after my neighbor. I just
like the way that word rolls off my tongue and I use it often. I lust
after peanut butter sandwiches, for example, or fresh corn on the cob at
the farmer's market. These are tiny little lusts but they still cause a
breathy sigh in the pit of my stomach. Nah, no way is there a
self-destructive drive for pleasure that is out of proportion to its
worth in this household.... unless maybe we're talking about the
chocolate brownies. Lust (as in one of the Seven Deadly Sins, a sin
against the virtue of self control) is just a pleasant memory at this
point in my life. Few of us get to be over six decades old without
clicking those deadly sins off on our fingers and saying, "Got that one
under control," or "I still need to work on this one." You can't study
the likes of Dante and St Thomas Aquinas without picking up a pointer or
two about controlling genuine pleasures for maximum effectiveness
without damaging your soul in the doing. Lust, so say the purists, will
kill the soul by suffocation.
So, all you wanna-be good people
of earth, tuck your desire for power, sex, money and personal
glorification into one of those automated pet feeders that will dispense
your lust back out a little at a time. Do it and someday in your old
age you, too, will be able to look across your back yard and say, "that
guy or gal has a nice ass," then smile with contentment and go back to
your typing. © by J. Riva
Fess Up: Anyone for Gluttony or Greed?
Second in the Seven Deadly Sins Series
I've already written about lust in the first of this four part series,
so I might as well tackle the other two of the Seven Deadly Sins that
fall in the category of excessive love of earthly pleasures: Greed and
Gluttony. If Dante could lump the sins of lust, greed and gluttony
together in 'Purgatorio' I can, too. After all, without Dante to rank
the sins would we even have---on second thought, let's not go there! I
don't want the natives to get restless here.
We all know something
about greed. Or we think it's about amassing money or worldly goods and
hoarding it all for ourselves. Literally speaking this is true, I guess,
but how much is too much? Who decides when we've got enough Ding Dongs
and dollars in our cupboards to ward off future catastrophic events?
Greed, as in one of the Seven Deadly Sins, only makes sense when we hold
it up against The Virtue in which that sin offends. Here, that virtue
is Generosity.
Okay, so sharing is good. I think I read that in a
book titled, 'All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.' So
in theory if we share our Ding Dongs with the cat and drop a check in
the mail to a do-gooder group do we automatically become virtuous? Do we
also have to shout for joy that we've got cake to share and have that
extra bonus from work that would otherwise buy us more toys, if not
spent buying bread for our less fortunate brothers and sisters? No, no,
no! Our generosity can't be shouted from the roof tops or we'll stumble
our way into the vanity department of taking credit and expecting
praises. Being virtuous is hard work, isn't it!
Okay, let's look
at this from another angle. What if that box of Ding Dongs hidden away
represents more than just food, it fills a hole in the heart? It's
become an adult security blanket. If we give away our last Ding Dong in a
situation like that is it generosity or fool-heartedness? If we are
generous in other ways, giving of ourselves to serve others in a Mother
Teresa sort of way, does that trump one tiny sin of hoarding chocolate
cream-stuffed cake high on a shelve? Hey, I just ask the questions. I
have no answers.
I do know that having wealth, in itself, is not
evil. I do know that people who work hard are entitled to enjoy the
fruits of their labor. I also know that true generosity is a quiet
thing. Something we must all root out in our own hearts like a sow after
Gummy Bears in the dark. Generosity versus Greed is about more than
just money, wealth and winning first place on American Idol. It's about
its polar opposite of giving without expectations. It's about sharing
our knowledge, ourselves, our spotlights on the stage of life. (Glory
hallelujah! But don't pass the collection plate just yet. We still need
to talk about gluttony.)
Gluttony---as in one of the Seven
Deadly Sins---is harder to define than greed. Some people think they can
pick out the ones who sin against the virtues of temperance and faith.
They think it's all about excesses in food, drink and entertainment
involving eatable panties. But what gives any of us the right to judge
the alcoholic whose ancestral background may predispose him to
addiction? Or to judge the obese woman who may cry in her pillow each
night as being less virtuous than the thin little chickie who might be
sticking her fingers down her throat each day to make herself barf up
her supper? Can we always judge a book by its cover---sort the medical
problems out from the lack of personal temperance? Does knowing the
scriptures give a person the right to put mental ear tags on each fat
person they meet, like bagging a deer during hunting season? Did too
much Krypton fall out of some of our comic books when we were kids
giving us imagined powers beyond the normal? Temperance, as a Virtue,
accepts that there are natural limitations to pleasures. Gluttony pushes
beyond...but is that sin or illness? Only The Shadow knows.
If I
was a fire and brimstone preacher, this is where I'd hold the Holy Book
up high and shout, "Judge not, lest you be judged, oh brothers and
sisters!" Or do I have my preachers mixed up? Would not the fire and
brimstone makers be saying something about us already having been judged
and coming up on the wrong side of the yard stick? Oh, darn, I can't
sort out my preachers just now. So I'll close this little---some would
say---irreverent essay by paraphrasing Robert Fulghum's book about
things learned in kindergarten and state, "Ladies and gentlemen, go out
in the world and 'play fair!'" © by J. Riva
Pride, the Sin, Not the Gay Parade
We've already covered lust, greed and gluttony. This little ditty---the
third in my four part deadly sins series---will bounce around some ideas
about Pride, the sin. Hey, I have a low threshold for boredom and I'm
an insomniac with time on her hands. Who else would think this stuff up
in the middle of the night?
Decades ago, I remember thinking that a
good time involved fitting five out of the seven sins into my
sunset-to-dawn schedule. But it's been so long since I've thought about
The Sins that I had to look them up to make sure I'm remembering them
right. Pride, Greed, Envy, Anger, Lust and the two most misunderstood
sins of all: Gluttony and Sloth. It's been even longer since I've
thought about how most Western religions are divided up along One Great Principle of either emphasizing the sin part of the equation over The Virtues
in which those Seven Deadly Sins are committed against or emphasizing
The Virtues, talking very little about the sins as if mentioning them
might put thoughts into our heads. Man, that sentence was sixty words
long! Some where in the underworld there's an English teacher turning over in
her pink satin-lined coffin.
The Virtues: Humility, Generosity,
Love, Kindness, Self-Control, Faith & Temperance and Zeal. Yes,
Virginia, we can't have sin without them. The Virtues and The Sins are
like Yin and Yang---not the panda bears in the zoo, but in Chinese
philosophy and metaphysics. No, wait! I'm giving it the Western spin.
Yin and Yang are primal oppose but complementary forces, not polar
opposites. Yin/Yang. Tit-for-Tate. Let's get back to virtues before I
start singing a little Michael Jackson. 'Virtue' is a pretty
word, don't you think? It's fun to say but it's hard to walk the talk.
But I try because I'm from the camp that believes in setting goals to
live up to, rather than dispensing fears to run away from. Sing The
Virtues, that's my religion, and the sins will take care of themselves. I
am getting big-time side-tracked again. Tonight I'm meditating about
pride. Repeat that twenty times in a row; I'm old and your chanting will
help me to remember to stay on point.
At first glance I have a hard time
understanding how pride can be a sin. I mean I take pride in lots of
things. The way I came through my husband's stroke with all my marbles
in place and the way my living room smells sweeter after I discovered
where the dog parks his barf are just two examples. As humans, we take
pride in our appearance and in the way our children turn out. We take
pride in catching the biggest fish at a tournament or having a
prestigious title at work. We take pride in the fact that we have more
Tinker Toys than our neighbors or because we have bigger houses---and
this is where pride enters the sin zone. (Insert eerie music here.)
To understand how pride is considered a sin I guess we need to talk
about humility. Humility is, after all, the virtue that the sin of pride
offends. Humility is seeing ourselves as we are, not as we are compared
to someone else---write that on your shirt sleeve, there will be a quiz
later. Pride is vanity. Pride is competitive. But wait a minute. Don't
we need pride? Don't we need to think highly of ourselves? Where does
self-esteem enter into the picture? Without it, wouldn't we drive
ourselves nuts questioning our own abilities to make simple Mickey
Mouse decisions? I'm talking about little prides here involving things
like Resolve Carpet Cleaner and fishy taxidermy hanging in the den. Why
can't we be prideful without it being arrogant, self-centered,
conceited, or boastfulness? Geez, all pride doesn't take on the same
intensity as the kind Aristotle might have discussed that leads to war
between nations, does it? (Me big strong nation. You gum on my shoe.) And without
healthy pride and competition, we'd still be living in the Stone Age,
would we not? Match - point. Which side of my head is winning this
debate, anyway?
Take a deep breath. Let's look at that Ralph W.
Sockman said: "True humility is intelligent self respect which keeps us
from thinking too highly or too meanly of ourselves. It makes us modest
by reminding us how far we have come short of what we can be." Here we
go again. Isn't he suggesting that we look within our own hearts to set
the standards to gauge our efforts, that we measure ourselves against
ourselves not against our neighbors? Bingo! And on another side of the Rubik's
Cube, Paul Keating defined what humility is not when he said: "If one
takes pride in one's craft, you won't let a good thing die. Risking it
through not pushing hard enough is not humility." I'm confusing myself
again. Oh, lord, pass me the box of Ding Dongs.
"Back to
basics," I can hear some old philosophy professor saying in my head.
"Break it down as simple as you can." Okay. Being prideful of having
lost ten pounds is not a sin, but being proud that you lost a pound more
than your best friend is the sin of Pride. Being proud that you've
gotten through all of your painful life challenges with just a few
Band-Aids and bruises is not a sin, but thinking that---when those
challenges came along---you should have been exempt from having
them is a sin of against The Virtue of Humility. By gosh, I've cracked
the code! Pride keeps us from seeing the graces and authenticity in
our lives. Pride keeps us from seeing that we are no better than the
yo-yo who collects our dollars at the car wash or the chick at the beach
with an ugly outie or a man with no legs.
Lest we forget, I
need to add a footnote here. A few good men argue for and believe in the
literal interpretation that pride is pitting ourselves against the will
of God. Okay, by now you should be able to tell that I don't buy into
that power struggle. If you want to pass my pop quiz, put down something
like thinking you should be exempt from life's trials and tribulations
just because you've listened to the entire Bible read by Charles Heston
or you've made lots of yellow highlights in the print version is the sin of having too my pride. In my
class, that's an excellent example of a sin of Pride against Humility.
And that next to the last sentence was another one of those
turn-over-in-your-grave run-ons sentences hated by English teachers everywhere .
Bottom line: Life is just one
big long lesson in humility, of being humbled by the graces that are
bestowed upon us. Through adversity we learn to kick the gloating pride
out of our lives and accept our state of grace. The humility that comes
flowing in with the absence of the sinful kind of pride keeps our heads
in proportion to our accomplishments. What is the hardest part
about avoid the sin of pride? For me, it's knowing that in order to have
true humility, I can't brag about having found it. (Insert laughter
here, please.)
This ends my midnight meditation on the Seven
Deadly Sins series, part three. Amen and hallelujah! Now, get out your
reading glasses and tell me what you wrote down on your shirt sleeve. If
you got it right, it will be one of the few lines in this whole silly
ditty that means jack squat in this poker game we call life. © by J. Riva
Envy, Anger and Slothfulness---Are We Talking About Anyone You Know?
4th and Last in the Seven Deadly Sins Series
When Dante classified the vices (commonly known at the Seven Deadly
Sins) he placed Envy, Anger and Slothfulness as number two, three and
four directly beneath the worse vice of all: Pride. Dragging up the rear
are Greed in fifth place, Gluttony in sixth and Lust at the very
bottom. I never could figure out why Pride is so much worse that Lust
but you can't argue with a dead dude who was born way back in 1265.
Dante was a Gemini---if anyone cares about those things---an Italian
writer/poet that all self-respecting college students and serious
Catholics have at least heard about, if not studied the stuffings out of
in the wee hours of the night. The likes of "The Divine Comedy" and
"The Inferno" are woven into the fabric of all western thought. Some
might even say that Dante single-handedly Christianized the thoughts of
Aristotle. And while the work of Dante never showed up in "The Idiot's
Guide to Philosophy" or in any of the Seinfeld episodes---and why would
it if his thoughts weren't original?---the work of Aristotle does appear
in both these venues. This article, the last installment of my Deadly
Sins Series, examines Envy, Anger and Slothfulness.
Envy -
Envy is a sin against The Virtue of Love. Okey, dokey. That's easy
enough to understand. We can't resent what others have at the same time
claim to love them. "Love is patient, love is kind"---I don't
remember where that quote comes from but it's a good one to chant when
we're tempted to envy our brother's extensive bowling ball collection or
our aunt Ruthann because she's got a doctoral in something we can't
pronoun. I know, I know, bowling ball gardens are pretty cool and
knowing stuff can win you money on game shows. Envy is so hard to
resist! But we're suppose to love people enough to be happy for their
good fortunes and sad when their luck runs out. Envy is so mixes up with
Pride and competition that even the theological experts have trouble
sorting out all the sin/virtue nuances and make them stand up and behave.
So we common folks can just put all that theological and philosophical
chic-chat into a hopper and it comes out the other end as, "Love Thee
Neighbor."
Anger - The inappropriate feeling of hatred
and revenge. One catch here. Who decides what is "inappropriate?" I hate
that word, it's so ambiguous. Who decides when dislike crosses over
into hatred? And is it okay to express anger when our kids run out in
the street, but wrong to raise our voices when they spill milk on the
floor? Where on the sin meter does the good-little-woman-turned-viper
x-wife fall when she spends all her time thinking up dirty tricks to
play on the dumb duck who dumped her? Can we express "normal" anger and
still be virtuous? Let's think this out: If we're going to follow a
trend here in this series, we need to hold the Sin of Anger up against
The Virtue in which it sins against. In this case we're talking anger
versus kindness. We all know about kindness in its many forms of
patience, tenderness and compassion. Many of us learned that stuff in
Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. So just remember, be nice and don't hit or
spit and that should keep you out of the sin zone.
Slothfulness
- "I'm a sloth, you're a sloth, we're all sloths." Could this be the
theme song in your neighborhood, boys and girls? The word 'sloth'
strictly defined is laziness. However, the religious use of the word is
not that simple and this confuses a lot of people who like to go sinner
sniping. Why? Because The Virtue in which Slothfulness sins against is
Zeal, or enthusiasm. Can you see, now, that the sin kind of slothfulness
has nothing to do with wearing your undies too many days in a row? Yup,
the Sin of Slothfulness is defined in a broader, more philosophical
context....like that of drifting into a state of complacency and failing
to response to the graces all around us. Having apathy about life is
slothfulness. Zealousness, on the other side of the coin, is a
child-like appreciation for our space in time. It's not screaming at
by-passers on a street corner about Hell and Damnation. If you do that,
stop it! Finding our balance on the Zeal/Sloth teeter-totter means that
we study and learn and grow into this thing called humanity. It's a
semi-quiet thing that radiates out from within and colors every thing we
do.
So, good people who may still be reading this article, this
ends my Seven Deadly Sins series and won't you be glad to know that I
have no desire to go on to write about the finer points of the Venial or
Mortal Sins and the Ten Commandments. Cash---no checks---in the collection plate, please. © by J. Riva
