We Are Saved By Our Works – Part 2
hints toward vice and virtue
***Here is Part One***
The first essay on “salvation by works” ended with a brief mention of virtue and vice, categories used early on to think through what we would now call “holiness” and “sin.” But I want to start with a brief word about holiness itself.
Being raised a Baptist boy and then discovering Pentecostalism at the height of 1990’s revivalism, holiness was spelled out rather clearly and concisely. Simply put, holiness was strict adherence to a pre-determined list of all the things you should not be doing, saying, touching, watching, wearing, listening to, or thinking about. To be sure, there are definitely things that you should not watch or say or do because they’re not good for you. But to label this as “holiness” is to miss the mark (pun intended). Adherence to or abstinence from lists like these might make you a moral person, but it does not make you holy. Moralism and holiness are not the same thing. Boycotting Starbucks or banning Celine Dion should never be conflated with the cultivation of Christian virtue.
But that’s just the thing – we do not see holiness as something we do, something to cultivate and grow in. Instead, we have seen holiness as the result of something we do not do – namely, violate our particular list of sins. So long as our standards are in place, we’re holy. Or if we have a powerful experience, that makes us holy. Or, more recently, we simply “believe” we are loved by God and therefore holy.
But the tradition gives us something much deeper and richer, I think.
First, we need to get clear on what holiness is. It is our humanity – the image of Jesus – fully realized. He is the holiness of God, our sanctification. Said another way, holiness is not mere sinlessness; it’s Christlikeness. And the path forward to become like Christ – his life of humility and meekness, of hospitality and generosity, of patience and love – is achieved by the active cultivation of virtue. And virtue is most starkly defined when viewed in contrast to the vices, those diseases of the soul that are infinitely more pernicious than a Spotify playlist or skirt length. (Again, these things matter in their own way, but not something we should confuse with what is holy).
The cultivation of virtue is hard, flesh-withering, ego-crucifying work. One does not become virtuous simply because they wish it so, or because they believe Jesus loves them, or because some deep experience did for them what is actually only accomplished through a lifetime of prayer and surrender to the Spirit’s work.
Instead, virtue and holiness are formed in us by a secret given to us by Saint Ignatius:
The secret is agere contra.
Agere contra, simply defined, means to “act against.”
It is a call, first, to action. Holiness and virtue are specific works, deeds, actions that we do. It must be tangible and real.
Second, it is a call to act against our vices, our attachments, our disordered passions.
Here’s a quick example:
The mother of all vice is pride. The early tradition viewed pride as the greatest sin of all, a notion which pushes back against the common misconception that “all sin is the same.” It most certainly is not.
And typically when we speak about pride, we gloss over all the concrete manifestations this vice produces. Too often we think pride is an abstract condition of the heart that can only be addressed in spiritual terms and through spiritual experience. We only hope that this haughty sin somehow leaves us over time.
But for St Ignatius, pride has tangible evidence of its existence.
And to rid yourself of it, you need to act against it.
Some of pride’s real manifestations would be:
annoyance with those who contradict me
keeping others at a distance
thinking I am the only one who can do things right
thinking I am the only one who knows the truth of things
thinking that my church, ministry, or voice is the most significant (or one of the most significant) in the Church
nursing grudges
indifference to others viewpoint
… and on and on and on it could go.
Of course, it’s all too easy to explain away these faults in unfaithful and unwise ways.
“That’s just my personality; it’s how God made me.”
”That’s because I’m an Enneagram (insert your number).”
”It’s because I’m a prophet, and prophet’s are hard to get along with.”
”That’s because I have insecurities that need healed.”
(I mean, what are insecurities except those areas where our ego has been offended?)
No, we need to call it what it is.
It’s pride.
It’s a vice.
And it is “unmaking” us as humans.
And we can still keep all our moral lists of things to not do while still brimming with pride. In fact, pride is often what drives our willingness to adhere to these lists with such rigor!
The vices continue: anger, lust, sloth, and so forth.
But, for our pride example, what do we do?
We work at cultivating the opposing virtue – we foster and nurture humility.
And we do this by acting against pride in tangible ways. If the vice is concretely expressed, so is the virtue that drives it out.
Here are a few actions we can take to push back against pride, taken from Mother Teresa’s famous “humility” list.
Speak as little as possible about yourself (that includes just how awesome your church, ministry, movement is).
Accept small irritations with good humor (we’re not so important that we can’t weather inconveniences).
Do not dwell on the faults of others (to the degree we gossip about others highlights just how unaware we are of ourselves).
Accept rebukes even if undeserved.
Be courteous and delicate even when provoked.
Give in, in discussions, even when you are right.
Again, these actions, these deeds, these works save us.
They make us holy, which is shorthand for making us human.
And when it hurts the most, when it cuts against the grain the most – that’s when you can be sure it’s working.
Amazing writing.