Why are we so guilty?

Emily Benson, staff writer for The Evangelist.

Back in college, on a brisk winter night in December, I stole a Christmas decoration from my on-campus Starbucks.

The holidays were fast approaching, and a friend and I were admiring the coffee shop’s festive tinsel and shimmering red bows. On our way out the door, we stopped. A cluster of peel-and-stick window decorations caught our eye. There was a cautious glance in each other’s direction, followed by an unspoken, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” The next thing I knew, we had peeled a tiny sticker off the door and ran back to our dorm. We slapped the decoration on our window and laughed at our work, giddy from the silliness of our crime.

Then, the guilt kicked in.

If you’re Catholic, you know this guilt. Maybe you lied to get out of plans or skipped Mass when you could have gone. Maybe you cheated on a test or stole a cup of coffee from Stewart’s when nobody was looking. We know these things are wrong, but we do them anyway. And afterward, we’re left with self-inflicted guilt, knowing we dropped the ball in the eyes of God.

While Catholics don’t hold a monopoly on religious inflicted guilt, the Church is infamous for it. But why are we so guilty?

These feelings are nothing new to the Church: St. Augustine wrote about his struggle to forgive himself after smashing pears from his neighbor’s tree as a child, and St. Ignatius discusses the notion of Catholics making “out sin where there is no sin.” There are even entire communities and support groups for the devoutly religious who struggle from scrupulosity, a feeling of pathological guilt about moral or religious issues.

Sister Katherine “Kitty” Hanley, CSJ, former Director of St. Bernard’s School of Theology and Ministry in Albany and Coordinator of Holy Ground, a spiritual direction training program at the diocesan Consultation Center, said that one’s guilt may be tied to older teachings in the Church which often taught: “If you do bad things you will be a guilty person, you will be punished.”

But most Catholic guilt stems not from tremendous acts of sin but from the notion of attaching an unnecessary amount of self-punishment over a tiny, human error.

After stealing the window decoration, I felt so terrible I drove to CVS the following day, bought a red and green holiday bow, went back to the coffee shop and slapped the decoration on the door where the window stickers once lay. (Shortly after this, another student proceeded to steal my bow as well, which felt a lot like karma.)

I felt like if I didn’t do something to offset the bad I had done, I wasn’t going to be forgiven. But while the Catholic faith teaches about the harm of sin, it also — almost in the same breath — reminds us of God’s mercy for when we do inevitably mess up.

“God doesn’t say you didn’t say your prayers, so your dog is going to get run over by a car,” said Sister Kitty. “To live as though God is out there waiting for us to mess up is not only a very sad theology, it’s also ignoring most of what scripture tells us. We believe in a God who saves; we believe in a God who forgives.”

Some guilt, in healthy doses, can be beneficial. It helps remind us to serve in our community, to make time to attend Mass, or to be there for others in need. Things that, in the end, will benefit ourselves and others. What’s important is not to get hung up over every mistake because humans are expected to sin; we are expected to mess up.

“Let’s say I park in a no-parking zone and I get a ticket. ... I’m furious because it was my fault, but I pay my fine. Do I go around for the next 10 years (feeling bad)? No. I say tough luck, and next time, read the signs,” Sister Kitty says.

Maybe stealing jingle-bell decor from the local coffee shop wasn’t the right choice, but it wasn’t a bank robbery or arson. Feeling intense guilt — even shame — over small regrets or mistakes is a punishment that doesn’t fit the crime. 

The key is finding a balance, added Sister Kitty, and the best way to do this is to get in touch with one’s own image of God: “I think it goes back to our deepest images of God. If we are capable of believing in a Lord who saves and forgives, we can work toward forgiving ourselves (and our guilt) as well.

“I think we always walk as Christians knowing that we are frail. We are capable of error, we are capable of sin, we are capable of doing some pretty dreadful things. ... God loves us anyway. So when we confess our sins at liturgy, I have sinned in my thoughts, in my words, in my deeds, but I’m here, God, and I know you have forgiven me. So it’s that balance.”

It’s not always easy, but striving to find that perfect balance is key to the function of faith in our daily lives. As we enter the second week of Advent, we also light the second candle of our Advent wreath, the candle of “peace.” I find this theme fitting for any guilt-ridden Catholics out there seeking peace in their hearts. While, yes, sometimes we mess up, other times, we can be extra hard on ourselves for no good reason, and finding the right balance between having guilt or having grace is something we should strive for.

I hope we all can find a way to give ourselves a little more grace this Advent season, and from that, a little more peace of mind. It just might save you a (literal) guilt trip to CVS.