The Animal Self and the Diabolical Self

Reading this quote this morning makes me think it's time to re-read MERE CHRISTIANITY again...

"The sins of the flesh are bad, but they are the least bad of all sins. All the worst pleasures are purely spiritual: the pleasure of putting other people in the wrong, of bossing and patronising and spoiling sport, and back-biting; the pleasures of power, of hatred. For there are two things inside me, competing with the human self which I must try to become. They are the Animal self, and the Diabolical self. The Diabolical self is the worse of the two. That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute. But, of course, it is better to be neither."

 I don't think Lewis is espousing "small" sin at all here, but instead he is talking about two different inclinations toward "sinning," similar to what Jesus mentioned in the Sermon on the Mount when he stated that what goes into a man doesn't make him unclean, but that which comes out of him does, and the idea that to call your brother "fool" is on equal footing with the act of murder itself. One is a natural inclination of the natural body we must resist, and the other is a deliberate choice after weighing the differences and still choosing to do evil. One is an act of the spiritual will, one than can hide behind a self-righteous act by avoiding the animal sins of drinking, sleeping around, etc. but living nonetheless in the spiritual ones that are easily dressed up and hidden (the pursuit of power, greed, etc.). A prostitute (to use Lewis' word) may be honestly in a bad situation and want out or may be in the only situation he or she has ever known (even acknowledging the wrongness of the lifestyle), but a deacon who hides behind church power to feed his greed and abuse of others (for example by "disallowing" mixed race couples to feel comfortable in church or to make sure that what he wants to happen for the direction of the church body because he gives the most money in tithes and offerings) has willfully embraced the diabolical self and is spiritually choosing the sins of the spirit. Does that make sense?

In another way of saying it, the sins of the animal self are sins of impulse while the sins of the diabolical self are sins of methodical, willful evil choices.

Sins of impulse are equally "bad" but can be more easily overcome in time while sins of willfully embracing evil traits and character require more work and faith to overcome. And sadly, the church today tends to focus on the sins of the natural self, best known in the adage of "no make-up, no dancing, no sex" rather than the admonition to live like Christ and have the mind of Christ in all you do, especially that which goes on beneath the surface, that which people may never see.

And sometimes because it doesn't reflect poorly on our churches or because we're blind to it, our churches today often empower and back those who regularly indulge in the sins of the diabolical self. It's far easier to spot a drug user with a filthy mouth than a well-dressed and "proper" church goer who runs his company and/or family like a selfish, greedy, power-hungry tyrant.

Like Batman, But Not That Cool

Hi. My name is Sean, and I'm a fake, a phony, a hypocrite.

Before you try to disagree with, let me just say that all you can see is the outside stuff I want you to see. I'm a nice guy, polite like my mom and Meme raised me, and I try to live up to that good ol' Golden Rule (when it's convenient, of course, but you don't see that). I try to be a good father and husband and employee and friend. But that's all the mask.

Far less cool that this.

Yes, like Batman.

Only, not that cool.

You see, beneath my mask, I'm not all that likeable, not really it seems like the guy I try to be.

And I won't go into the specifics here, because to be honest I still want you to like me. But let me tell you, if you could see the sick, selfish, icky stuff in my head, you'd keep your distance. Just being honest. I tell myself they're not things I'd ever act on, but they're there regardless, keeping vigil in my brain, tempting me just the same. There for the grace of God, as the saying goes.

I feel a little like Paul in that respect (then think, who am I to compare myself to that saint, even though Paul himself counts himself out of that list) when he writes in Romans 7:

I can anticipate the response that is coming: “I know that all God’s commands are spiritual, but I’m not. Isn’t this also your experience?” Yes. I’m full of myself—after all, I’ve spent a long time in sin’s prison. What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary. But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. (14-20, The Message)

It also makes me feel a bit like the Eagles sang when I stab it with my steely knives but I just can't kill the beast.

Inside I know I deserve to be strung up, hung out to dry, and left to rot, but outside I keep putting on that mask. (After all, they will know we are Christians by our gloves, right? So our hands don't actually get dirty.)

Luckily for a scab of a man like me, it's not my good and bad that is going against or for me. It's someone else's.

It's that grace thing again. That seems to pop up a lot here.