Do You Ever Do What You Hate?

DOES IT EVER seem that you’re cultivating your worst self instead of your best? We are still a far cry from what Catholic Worker co-founder Peter Maurin called “a society in which it is easier for people to be good.” Every day we face hard moral choices. Social media and the broader culture foster entitlement, grievances, tit-for-tats, snap judgments, and hurtful words. The global economy entangles our purchases to injustice somewhere. We are constantly in fragile, guilty, fearful, and wounded states that lead to lashing out and reacting badly. So, how do we live principled and faithful lives within sinful systems? Our Christian tradition provides tools to maintain a sense of integrity.

When a person finds it impossible to make decisions according to their conscience, they sustain a “moral injury.” Such injuries result when we are unable to align how we live with who we believe ourselves to be. For most of us, these injuries are small (compared to those in violent situations), but they add up. We may look at injustice in the world and spiral into thoughts such as, “I’m not doing enough,” “I’m part of the problem,” “I’ve got no right to complain,” or even “Why can’t I remember to bring a frickin’ container for leftovers when I go out to eat?” Our inner critic works overtime — and has plenty of material. These self-criticisms can define how you see yourself. Getting a handle on them with mercy — recognizing and assessing them honestly — is key to spiritual resilience.

Check yourself frequently. Develop a practice to check your responses, actions, and words. How do they weigh against your sense of right and wrong? Revisiting how you show up each day highlights where you’ve fallen short and when you’re unfairly beating yourself up. More important, it allows for course correction. Could you have done better? Are you blaming yourself for something that is not in your control? Some Christians call this an examination of conscience, others a “fearless moral inventory.” The goal is to increasingly make the choices God would have us make.

A Catholic practice that serves this purpose is the “daily examen,” handed down from St. Ignatius of Loyola. After taking an Ignatian retreat a few years ago, I adopted the examen as a critical tool of resilience. For 10 minutes before bedtime, I review my day in prayerful contemplation. The day becomes a story, and it’s much fuller than I realized — filled with interactions and internal reactions that give meaning and insight into who I am and how I move in the world. Without this reflective practice, I’d miss half of what matters in daily life.

Make space and pray. In his book How to Be Perfect, TV writer Michael Schur (creator of The Good Place) uses the phrase “moral exhaustion” to describe the fatigue he feels when every choice bears ethical weight. But it isn’t just relentless moral choices that exhaust us, it’s their seeming futility. “What’s the most ethical way to purchase the things I’m not sure I really need? Even if I buy used clothes, aren’t they still made in exploitative sweatshops?” Taking time to evaluate our priorities by refocusing on them is a key method of how we “keep the sabbath.” I’ve created a sort of mini-sabbath by regularly carving out the space to say a personal “self-help” prayer that clears the decks and realigns my intentions. It is my touchstone for routine human maintenance. By loosening the neuroses that drive me, I seek support and find ways to respond as my best self. Importantly, I give myself permission to cry. As an effective channel and filter for worrisome thoughts and disturbing events, crying helps.

Make good. Self-help and self-healing are not endpoints in the Christian life. In complex moral systems, we are often both a victim and a perpetrator of harm. This calls for multidimensional reconciliation. Our Christian communities have practices for acknowledging accountability and receiving grace for actions impacting those near to us. But how can we reconcile with people we may never know or see?

Theologian Robert J. Schreiter posits that reconciliation grows from a slow process of conversion rooted in mercy; we cannot initiate or “achieve” it. It’s not about simply asking or offering forgiveness, writes Schreiter, but about discovering and being led by “the mercy of God welling up in one’s own life.” Ultimately, the hope held out to us is movement from “victim and wrongdoer” to “survivor and penitent” and, finally, to liberation for all.

Engaging in service is an external way to make good. Find a point of pain and injustice linked to your own story. Commit to small, consistent actions of healing and justice. You probably aren’t going to “fix” anything; but you will build friendships and contribute to the work of those before and after you who seek to tip the scale of justice in the right direction.

Find truth in community. Schreiter describes how false narratives that attack and negate the truth of our deeply held values “may cause us to doubt and even abandon ... our senses of safety and selfhood.” When lies shape our worldview, we become debilitated. Self-isolation is a common response. Unpacking lies is best done with others. Some of the most meaningful, vulnerable, and authentic conversations I’ve had — with friends and strangers alike — tapped into deep truths about what it means to be human in our world today. Lean into these exchanges. What’s important is to witness to the truth: Don’t back down from what’s ugly and don’t hesitate to highlight beauty.

You also can seek out or cultivate a caring group to talk about what matters. Early in the pandemic, I formed Apocalypse Anonymous for people who wanted to process the traumatic changes we were experiencing. A shared search for truth can create a support network of understanding and validation. How do you cultivate connection and authenticity among the circles of friends, family, and coworkers with whom you share daily life?

In Joan Chittister’s book Radical Spirit: 12 Ways to Live a Free and Authentic Life, she reminds us that “endurance [is] the unsung champion of the spiritual life.” And that “by learning to bear hard things well, we secure the future of the human race as well as our own ability to survive.” How are you shaping your life for spiritual resilience and generosity?