Gratitude Not Guilt

White privilege. Catholic guilt. For me, the feelings that these two phrases bring forth are very similar. I have no problem, whatsoever, admitting that I participate in racist systems and structures. In fact, it makes complete sense to me that just by living and being, I am participating in racism, because I have always been taught that just by thinking, saying or doing I am generally sinning. Every Sunday at the start of Mass I, along with the rest of those around me, say the words: “I confess that I have greatly sinned… through my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do.” Few do it any more, but we are even supposed to strike our breast while repeating “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.” It’s a little intense when I really think about it, but it’s a pretty honest assessment that whether I say the thing or think the thing, do the thing or don’t do the thing, I am probably sinning in one way or another. Even though, most often, I say those words rote without giving them a lot of reflection, when I do reflect over them, it can be overwhelming wondering where to even begin my confession.

Similarly, I know I have accepted privileges my whole life- privileges of education, family, geography, health, merely by being born with white skin. I rarely think of my brothers and sisters of color and the suffering they have endured through generational trauma. When I start to think of their pain and the injustices they’ve endured: having a much harder time renting an apartment or buying a house, getting a job and/or promotion, the disproportion of health issues, the lack of good schools available, the blatantly false criminal accusations that whether they are convicted of or not they lose years of their life waiting for a trial, the slap on the wrist that a white man receives vs. the severe penalty a black man receives for the same crime. The list goes on and, similarly, I am overwhelmed to know where to begin to do something to help.

In both instances the overwhelm can lead me to a couple different places. Sometimes a defensiveness arises and I have thoughts like, “well, what was I supposed to do? How can it be helped? It’s not so bad the harm that was caused.” Sometimes, I am overcome with a feeling of guilt, and I have thoughts like, “I’m so terrible. I deserve to be punished. I feel so bad for all the harm that has been caused.” I will argue both responses are harmful and actually tend to do more damage to the cause to which it responds.

White privilege, as I understand it, should actually be the posture of Christianity. Within Christianity, we believe that “every good and perfect gift comes from God” (James 1:17). We believe that we have not earned anything: that salvation, along with every other good thing is purely a gift, a grace given to us unworthy creatures. White privilege too, is the understanding that I have received countless gifts, countless privileges, merely because I am white, not because I have earned them. Maybe it’s the unworthiness that, in both instances, can lead us to a place of defensiveness or guilt. Whether my eyes have been opened to my sin or I have become more educated on all I have received without earning it, I am suddenly overcome. I could try to invent why I do deserve good things or maybe I just become crushed by my depravity. The irony of both of these responses is that the focus remains fixated on me. And that, I believe, is the trap!

I love reading about the lives of the saints. They are so different, they have different priorities, different prayer lives, very different ways of living their calling from God- from hermits to activists. I have found it interesting that many of these holy people go through a period of scrupulosity, where they worry constantly about their sinful state. Many will assign themselves severe fasts and bodily penances like sleeping on hard ground, wearing scratchy garments under their clothes, kneeling on rocks or worse. Often, these holy people will come to a moment when they realize they have taken their penances too far. These sufferings were meant to remind them of their lowliness but taken to the extreme they distort the purpose and they become overly fixated on themselves rather than God or others.

I have heard of an attitude surrounding racism that seems to me to say, we should suffer with our brothers and sisters of color. I agree very much with this sentiment. In fact, it seems the least we can do for all those who suffer injustices- to sit in the discomfort of my privilege, to sacrifice some of my own needs to be reminded of those who have so little, to share my resources with those who have less. This too, however, can be taken to an unhealthy extreme that leads to despair. Or on the other side, we can merely be virtue signaling to make ourselves feel better. I think there is a connection between the extreme bodily penances of certain saints and the despairing, unhealthy sentiment of an extreme attitude of “white privilege.”

During Lent we focus on penance and Jesus’ suffering. We make fasts and sacrifices. This past Lent I was thinking about how I’ve never been especially moved by Jesus’ passion the way I’ve seen other Christians. I remember seeing The Passion of the Christ in theaters with friends and they all sat in the theatre as the credits rolled wiping away tears in stunned silence… I was definitely not having the same emotional reaction they were, and I felt like I should be. Maybe something is wrong with me. Maybe I should force myself harder to feel bad. As I was reflecting on this in March, it came to mind all the times I have been moved to tears- they were times I was overwhelmed by God’s mercy and love. Focusing on the suffering makes me feel guilty, makes me feel like I should be punished. It brings up a guilt response in me-but a guilt response doesn’t lead anywhere fruitful, what is more beneficial for everyone involved is a gratitude response. A sense of gratitude should lead me back to the awareness of the privileged state I’m in, it should help me recognize a healthy amount of sacrifice that can be done for the sake of others; a sense of gratitude leads me to hope rather than despair. Feeling bad doesn’t do anything, and especially announcing that I feel bad so others see I’m having a “compassionate” response doesn’t do anything. Focusing on suffering to evoke an emotional response is probably a waste of time. I make many sacrifices for my children and people I love- I don’t want them to feel guilty, but it is nice when they are grateful. I don’t think those who suffer want us to feel guilty. However, another’s suffering should cause us to want to be in solidarity with them. If I feel too bad, I might inadvertently run away from them, rather than run towards them. We can recognize our lowliness, our capacity to sin, our unworthiness and our privilege without despairing. We can be grateful for all the gifts we have received and be inspired to share those gifts.