Sheer stupidity

I realized something during confession the other night that even now strikes me — just how stupid my sins sounded as they came out of my mouth. I don’t mean stupid as in, “Why am I even bothering to confess these things?” I mean stupid as in, “What in the world drove me to do these things in the first place?”

Why indeed? During my everyday life, the things I struggle with seem insurmountable, overpowering, like a lead blanket smothering my faith. But then, I stand before the icon of Christ in confession — in front of my very Creator — and all of it seems stupid and petty, harmless if only I’d kick it aside. And the question remains, why?

I can think of a million reasons why, all relating to things of the past, but they are mere excuses. My sins are stupid, because try as I might, there is no good reason to willingly cast aside my God for some fleeting pleasure. After all, when do those sinful fleeting pleasures not result in agonizing suffering, anyway? Agonizing suffering, brought about precisely because I rejected God, and I ashamed to say that it usually is quite conscious.

So often, the holy fathers talk about rejecting sinful thoughts as soon as they enter the mind. For someone as full of passions as I am, that’s far easier said than done! One must be constantly vigilant, because at least in my case, I often find myself toying with thoughts of sin before I even realize what’s happening. And once I do realize it… well, more often than not, the damage is already done. I know God sends help in those situations — hymns of the Church have a strange way of popping into my head when I’m about to sin — but I ignore that help so I can do what I, in my sinful state, have already purposed to do.

Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?

The realization of the stupidity of my sins is something I’d like to remember. I have come to know how the passions war against me all too well, and I pray to God that I’d be granted the grace to wage war right back. And like the desert fathers talked about, it’s not the demons I’m fighting at this point — I am fighting to kill the old man, me.