In Chapter VII of the eponymous Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis, Uncle Screwtape reveals part of the devil's plan of misinformation:
My Dear Wormwood,
I wonder you should ask me whether it is essential to keep the patient in ignorance of your own existence. That question, at least for the present phase of the struggle, has been answered for us by the High Command. Our policy, for the moment, is to conceal ourselves. Of course this has not always been so. We are really faced with a cruel dilemma. When the humans disbelieve in our existence we lose all the pleasing results of direct terrorism and we make no magicians. On the other hand, when they believe in us, we cannot make them materialists and sceptics. At least, not yet. I have great hopes that we shall learn in due time how to emotionalise and mythologise their science to such an extent that what is, in effect, belief in us, (though not under that name) will creep in while the human mind remains closed to belief in the Enemy. The “Life Force”, the worship of sex, and some aspects of Psychoanalysis, may here prove useful. If once we can produce our perfect work – the Materialist Magician, the man, not using, but veritably worshipping, what he vaguely calls “Forces” while denying the existence of “spirits” – then the end of the war will be in sight. But in the meantime we must obey our orders. I do not think you will have much difficulty in keeping the patient in the dark. The fact that “devils” are predominantly comic figures in the modern imagination will help you. If any faint suspicion of your existence begins to arise in his mind, suggest to him a picture of something in red tights, and persuade him that since he cannot believe in that (it is an old textbook method of confusing them) he therefore cannot believe in you.
Screwtape intimates with some surprise at Wormwood's ignorance that concealment is a temporary means to an end, a midpoint tactic between the age of magic, in which hidden demons could terrorize humans with their power, and the end of the world, at which time the demons shall reveal their hatred unreservedly for the rest of eternity. As Lewis may be correct that disbelief in the devil is a temporary setback as well as a pragmatic measure, it seems right to ask whether or not the devil's greatest lie could have been convincing the world he does not exist.
What does the devil gain if he only teaches us to deny his own existence? Surely Satan must also campaign against the existence of God, of Goodness, Truth and Unity to avoid frustrating his own designs. Even if the devil convinces someone that there is nothing in which to place belief, he still has not barred the door against the forces of Existence, Grace, Reason or Will. A person who truly disbelieves everything still passionately thinks that something is worth believing—even if it is the value of his own disbelief, and he may be brought to believe in anything, even the Good God. Once the foot is set to a path, there is no turning back; one must see such a journey of discovery to the end, unless the devil successfully employs his greatest lie. Belief in Another is unnecessary, everything important is contained within oneself, and no journey is needed: the pilgrim is the shrine.
In such a case, the devil does not want people to disbelieve in him or in everything; rather, he wants them to believe very strongly in themselves alone. If he can introduce someone to the cult of self, he can succeed in his other goals: to destroy grace and hope in the soul and to steal the worship due to God. The cult of self strangles grace through all manner of sin; it also imitates the founding member of that cult, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
To look at it in another light, no atheist disbelieves in all gods. The "materialist magician" that Lewis alludes to must believe in some all-powerful force controlling everything, and surely, the most irreligious scientific fanatic must equally accept the existence of some controlling, eternal factor in the universe. Nonetheless, every atheist disbelieves in this or that god. Agnostics, on the other hand, are more universally skeptical. Even though the sophistical command "Doubt everything!" crumbles under rational inspection, it is small wonder that sloth lounges in the shadows of skepticism. It is easy to refuse things one does not want, it is easy to celebrate everything and believe nothing (as the Unitarian Universalists do), but it is difficult to believe. Even more to the point, it is perilous to believe. Every belief has its consequences. How differently men live when they grasp the reality of what they believe!
Accepting the reality of what is perceived, even when it surpasses rational explanation, is called Faith. Faith is an act, a movement of the will to assent to propositions, promises, instructions, commands and consolations revealed by God to His people. Faith is a virtue, a habitual disposition to acquiesce to the authority of God's infinite Wisdom. In short, Faith is a choice to adhere to a body of Truths encompassing every grammatical type from descriptive to imperative. That choice of Faith is embodied in the choice to Love. Men and women of the simplest minds have become the greatest saints because God's Love is as deep as His Wisdom is great, and those who accept God's Love and do as He commands live in the greatness of His Wisdom. For this reason, the devil assaults the will most severely while wracking the intellect with doubts, filling the present moment with lively distractions and chilling the heart with the icy breath of his hatred.
Yet, for all this effort, what new thing does the devil offer besides the stale self-sufficiency of his first temptation? The punishment for Adam's sin is also its cure. Men must first learn to respect their dependence on God through toil and labour. Is it not significant that Adam and Eve sought knowledge from the forbidden tree, that they wanted to be enlightened and not to learn?
Sloth is the deadliest fruit of the tree of deadly sins; it plays upon the natural desire for leisure, and turns the object of that desire to selfish pleasures until the body becomes saturated and the will becomes comatose; it poisons the will against leaving the shade and standing in the light. Until a man burns in the Light of Truth, until he purges his body of the gross humours of his idleness and re-enters the Valley of Tears, until he responds to God's purifying grace against Satan's greatest lie, he cannot be saved.
"If ye love me, keep my commandments."
In such a case, the devil does not want people to disbelieve in him or in everything; rather, he wants them to believe very strongly in themselves alone. If he can introduce someone to the cult of self, he can succeed in his other goals: to destroy grace and hope in the soul and to steal the worship due to God. The cult of self strangles grace through all manner of sin; it also imitates the founding member of that cult, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
To look at it in another light, no atheist disbelieves in all gods. The "materialist magician" that Lewis alludes to must believe in some all-powerful force controlling everything, and surely, the most irreligious scientific fanatic must equally accept the existence of some controlling, eternal factor in the universe. Nonetheless, every atheist disbelieves in this or that god. Agnostics, on the other hand, are more universally skeptical. Even though the sophistical command "Doubt everything!" crumbles under rational inspection, it is small wonder that sloth lounges in the shadows of skepticism. It is easy to refuse things one does not want, it is easy to celebrate everything and believe nothing (as the Unitarian Universalists do), but it is difficult to believe. Even more to the point, it is perilous to believe. Every belief has its consequences. How differently men live when they grasp the reality of what they believe!
Accepting the reality of what is perceived, even when it surpasses rational explanation, is called Faith. Faith is an act, a movement of the will to assent to propositions, promises, instructions, commands and consolations revealed by God to His people. Faith is a virtue, a habitual disposition to acquiesce to the authority of God's infinite Wisdom. In short, Faith is a choice to adhere to a body of Truths encompassing every grammatical type from descriptive to imperative. That choice of Faith is embodied in the choice to Love. Men and women of the simplest minds have become the greatest saints because God's Love is as deep as His Wisdom is great, and those who accept God's Love and do as He commands live in the greatness of His Wisdom. For this reason, the devil assaults the will most severely while wracking the intellect with doubts, filling the present moment with lively distractions and chilling the heart with the icy breath of his hatred.
Yet, for all this effort, what new thing does the devil offer besides the stale self-sufficiency of his first temptation? The punishment for Adam's sin is also its cure. Men must first learn to respect their dependence on God through toil and labour. Is it not significant that Adam and Eve sought knowledge from the forbidden tree, that they wanted to be enlightened and not to learn?
Sloth is the deadliest fruit of the tree of deadly sins; it plays upon the natural desire for leisure, and turns the object of that desire to selfish pleasures until the body becomes saturated and the will becomes comatose; it poisons the will against leaving the shade and standing in the light. Until a man burns in the Light of Truth, until he purges his body of the gross humours of his idleness and re-enters the Valley of Tears, until he responds to God's purifying grace against Satan's greatest lie, he cannot be saved.
"If ye love me, keep my commandments."
Shortly before Christmas, I again had the privilege of reading and critiquing an article by Dominic Cassella published on his website. He wrote on the intriguing matter of Involuntary Sin (http://thecatholicdormitory.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/involuntary-sin-ohhh/), to which I wrote the body of this article in reply. While I have modified some areas in their phrasing, the formal thrust remains unaltered.
Dominic,
Very interesting article. Even though it is obviously the fruit of much research, some direct citation, especially from the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, would have been most welcome.
I believe you are correct in stating that this teaching on involuntary sin does not contradict the Catechism and its doctrine of Venial sin (or sin in general); however, I think it presents, at worst, a contrary position, at best, an alternative one, both of which I find lack some grain of the truth.
If we accept that [CCC 1849] “Sin is an offense against reason, truth, and right conscience; it is failure in genuine love for God and neighbor caused by a perverse attachment to certain goods. It wounds the nature of man and injures human solidarity. It has been defined as ‘an utterance, a deed, or a desire contrary to the eternal law’,” then there are certain things which follow:
First, that sin is an act or omission motivated by self-interest against reality—as it is, and is perceived;
Second, that it is an act contrary to the moral [eternal] law, not Divine Providence; and
Third, that culpability for sin depends on the state of conscience and the ordering of one’s reason towards the truth.
The second and third points need more explanation.
God has taken all sin into account through His Providence. In one sense, saying that an act (good or bad) is outside of God’s plan means God has not provided for that action whatsoever, and needs to adjust His plan; in another sense, it could simply mean that God desired us to act differently, but has nonetheless provided for our failure. In other words: His desire is specifically different from His Providence. (I believe the latter states the understanding in question, though I could be mistaken.) But such cannot be the case; God’s desire for us and His Providential plan are inseparable. He longs to bring all men to Himself and has provided such means to it as the author of the Economy of Grace. [CCC 321] “Divine providence consists of the dispositions by which God guides all his creatures with wisdom and love to their ultimate end.” He will not make sin where there is none to be found.
This is the crucial point: God will not hold us culpable for things of which we have no knowledge and over which we can exert no control. He will not put us into an environment such that we cannot escape sin. The argument for involuntary sin fails to take the human conscience into account; and the eternal law which sin inevitably breaks is inscribed on the hearts of all men. It is impossible to sin and to keep this eternal law intact. Invincible ignorance of an evil removes all culpability for the sin.
"Ah, culpability," you say, "But what of the act itself? Is this not the heart of the matter: that a sin has been committed, even though there is no punishment due to the actor? The act can clearly be labeled a sin, and since it is performed, is not a sin committed?"
In the first place, act and action are separate things. They are often distinguished as "Act" from "Behavior," in which a "Behavior" is an action considered apart from both circumstance and intention, and an "Act" is considered only in conjunction with both. (For example, walking to the mailbox is a "Behavior"; my walking to the mailbox to pick up my own mail is an "Act"). Intention is necessary to sin. Even in sins of omission, there exists the intention to not do something which by all accounts (of reason, right conscience, and reality) ought to be done. Right conscience plays a heavy role in forming intention; it judges reason, which judges reality and forms our perception of things as they are.
In the second place, we must consider the consequence: if there can be sin without culpability, can there be culpability without sin? Can there be guilt without something of which to be guilty? (Let us set aside, momentarily, the question of a scrupulous conscience, which can lead itself to sin through exorbitant manifestations of guilt). Sin cannot but result in culpability for personal action, and personal culpability is a necessary part of the calculus of sin.
And in the third place, certain actions are morally wrong regardless of good intention, and as such, clearly forbidden by the eternal law (written on the conscience, remember). Morally good actions done with bad intention are made bad, regardless of their existential goodness; and morally neutral acts are made good or bad by the intention of the actor and his circumstances. As we see, all acts themselves not morally evil hinge on the intention of the actor, which is largely formed by the actions of his conscience.
I couldn’t state it any clearer than this: [quoted in CCC 1778] ” [Conscience] is a messenger of him, who, both in nature and in grace, speaks to us behind a veil, and teaches and rules us by his representatives. Conscience is the aboriginal Vicar of Christ.”
Of course, the Church has come to understand moral precepts far more delicate than those found in the natural law; however, these are not found in the hearts of men, and one’s conscience must be informed of these precepts from another authority. Where conscience is not informed through no fault of the actor there can be no sin.
To take the classic example: an aboriginal tribe that practiced ritual fornication is indeed culpable, but only for what they knew in their consciences to be against the natural law which is inscribed on the hearts of all men as a guide to Truth. They could not be guilty of not going to Mass on Sunday because they had never heard of Mass, nor could they be held responsible for not accepting the homoousios. They will be judged purely on what they knew in their hearts, and how they either obeyed, or disrespected the laws of their consciences.
God sees things as God; we see them as men. “Truth is truth to the end of measure,” and God cannot judge us as He would judge Himself. Knowing our inmost hearts, he alone is capable of judging us as men, and judging our response to our knowledge of the Truth.
[I beg all those who have read this article to extend their generosity toward Mr. Cassella and consider his opinion as magnanimously as they have mine.]