The Pain of Mortal Sin

I'm getting a lot of flack in the combox on my article published on the topic of rigidity--basically being accused of being the very thing I am pointing out. Those commenting note with horror the quote I used and affirmed by Queen Blanche, mother of King St. Louis IX, to her son that "I would rather see you dead at my feet than commit a single mortal sin." 

One of my responses, for what it's worth, to a commenter who noted that he would drop dead of shock if he heard Jesus utter that quote, and that there is a fundamental difference in how "traditionalists" see the will of God in Christ. My response (to save me from rehashing):

"And yet the Lord says, ““If your right eye makes you stumble, tear it out and throw it from you; for it is better for you to lose one of the parts of your body, than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. If your right hand makes you stumble, cut it off and throw it from you; for it is better for you to lose one of the parts of your body, than for your whole body to go into hell.” (Mt 5:29-30). Is he misspeaking? Does anyone really think one should self-mutilate at the reception of Jesus’ words after they are delivered to him? Of course not. The Lord Himself drives home the gravity of sin in this hyperbolic (not literal) manner to make the point. I interpret Queen Blanche’s words not dis-similarly. Do I ‘wish my children dead’ as one commentedr put on me? Don’t be ridiculous, and quit missing the point. The point is all the saints had an abhorance of sin to the point where they would echo her sentiments for themselves. St Teresa of Avila wrote, “If we knew how much damage one mortal sin does to the soul, we would go to the “greatest trouble imaginable” to avoid committing such a sin. “No thicker darkness” clouds the soul than mortal sin: it produces nothing but “misery and filth,” bringing “endless and eternal evils in its train.” (IC 33-34). If I recall Mother Teresa (is she rigid as well?) felt similarly. I am nowhere close to a saint, but like I said, I stand behind the hyperbole. We are not all called to be Saint X….but we are all called (and given the grace and means) to attain sanctity in order to wear the crown (but not without suffering)."

The thing I wanted to add (as I wasn't able to edit the comment) was that the nature of mortal sin is that it kills the life of grace in the soul, and severs the relationship between the sinner and God. Does that mean God does not love us? Of course not, for nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. Does it mean, as the Church teaches, that the relationship between God and sinner is severed and in need of redemptive repair by way of sacramental Confession? Yes. 

Additionally, this: for those who would be so aghast, the litany of saints throughout history would probably affirm the Queen's words, because they know (like St. Teresa) what death sin produces in the soul, and reel from even it's suggestion, such was their sanctity, and that one would suffer in such a way that they would want what is the "better part" for their children--the salvation of their souls; and that Christ himself used the image of cutting off and casting off one’s very members should they lead them to sin (again, hyperbole, as we don't see masses of one-armed pirate saints throughout history, since they didn't miss Jesus' point but saw it for what it was); if that wasn't enough,

God sent His own Son, HIS VERY OWN SON to SUFFER AND DIE on a cross, for ungrateful men who DIDN'T EVEN CARE! 

Put yourself in the shoes of God the Father. Why did He do this? To save us. From what? The pain of sin. Why was it necessary? The severing of relationship after the Fall was so great, so severe, such an affront to justice, that it was only the perfect sacrifice of GOD HIMSELF made man in Christ, His divine Son, that could redeem and ransom back what was lost in disobedience. 

Do you think God made that sacrifice, even in love, lightly? Do you think it does not pain Him to the point of grief to see the lukewarmness with which men regard their ransom? Knowing the nature of mortal sin, that it separates one from God eternally if unconfessed...is God Himself not grieved to the point of suffering at this loss of the ones whom He wants to love so ardently, so fully, so completely who have cut themselves off by their own free will? He will do anything and everything to get us back to Him, even sending his OWN SON to SUFFER AND DIE so that we might have a chance. 

But! He will not interfere with our free will. Because He knows (of course) and we know (but forget) that love means nothing if it is not free to give; ie, coerced. 

We think God doesn't understand. That we endure temptation. That we suffer. That we lose people we love. 

Could there be any religion which understands human nature and the love of the Divine more fully than Christianity, which makes the sole claim of God COMING DOWN and abasing Himself to become not just like us in appearance, but FULLY HUMAN? And doing so not because He owed us anything or out of a sense of duty, but because He LOVED US with such an incomprehensible love that He would literally offer up His own son, who shared in Him the Divine Nature, to suffer humiliation, torture, and yes, death. For us.

I recalled a story from the life of St Felicity. Appearing before the prefect of Rome with her pious sons, he exhorted her to sacrifice to idols, but in reply heard a generous confession of faith. “Do not threaten me,” she said. “The spirit of God is with me and will overcome every assault you make.”

“Wretched woman,” he said to her. “How can you be so barbarous as to expose your children to torments and death? Have pity on these tender creatures, who are in the flower of their age and can aspire to the highest positions in the Empire!”

Felicity replied, “My children will live eternally with Jesus Christ if they are faithful; they will have only eternal torments to await if they sacrifice to idols. Your apparent pity is but a cruel impiety.”

I was starting to get a gaslighty feeling reading some of the comments. Like, "Do I really want to see my kids dead?" "Is mortal sin that big a deal?" "Was that quote a bit much?" Second guessing, you know? What made me hot was the subtle implying that I was an abusive parent, or that I did not love my children with a fervent love, or that I was 'rigid' to the point of sadism...all from strangers on the internet. That such a prospect would somehow not rend my heart in two with grief. 

But I still stand by it, when I reflect. For some the road we work out to sanctity looks this way and for some that way, but no one can avoid the cross (whatever that is for them) that God lays on us, because if we are to be true imitators of Christ we can only be called worthy as disciples if we take it up. Otherwise, "we have no inheritance with him," for "he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me (Mt 10:37)

Now, would I tell my kids that to their face? Certainly not at their current age, and even when older I would be reticent except should it be used as a nuclear option to drive the essence of the point home and shake them up to how great God's mercy and love is, and how sin unequivocally seeks to undermines everything that God the Father did for us, how it gives birth to nothing but death, and how it separates us from the only thing that spiritually sustains us in this life--sanctifying grace--the indwelling of the Spirit of God, the inner light that sin attempts to snuff out by any means necessary. Call it a "rigid love"--the love of the soul.

Should we resist sin to the point of death? You bet. If we do we're in good company. If we heed the voices of the world that claim this too extreme, sadistic, cruel, unreasonable--we can lay down our crown then. We have forfeited the race, not run well. Because Christ did not promise that we would not suffer, possibly even to the point of death, and it is not necessarily contra to His will, as St. Paul says, "In your struggle against sin, you have not suffered unto blood" (Heb 12:4). 

Christ did, though. And if we are not willing to follow...well, I'm sure there are plenty of options in the world for someone that may be more agreeable to one's sensibilities.