Works of the Flesh: the Fruits of Evil
Welcome back everyone! I’m currently hard at work on our next big project, which I hope to roll out later this year. For the first time ever, I’ve been working closely with my son, Harry, on it, which is a bit of a dream come true for me. I won’t say too much about it yet, but I will say that some of these blog posts are coming straight from material we’ve written for that program, so those of you following along are getting a sneak-peek!
Today, I want to talk about sin—we’ve talked about it from the secular perspective recently, and probably will again—but for today, I want to discuss how the Christian concept has evolved from the early church.
The way we try to categorize sin is fascinating, and often inconsistent. Probably the most well-known such system is the Catholic church’s seven deadly sins: Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Lust. But while all these sins are indeed condemned by scripture, that specific list, and the notion that these seven specifically are the deadliest to your spiritual life, do not come from the Bible.
The original version of this idea seems to come from a 4th century Christian monk named Evagrius Ponticus, who compiled a list of eight “evil thoughts.” Interestingly, the word he used for thoughts, “logismoi,” uses the same root word, logos, that was used in the Greek New Testament to represent divine reason, the same word used in the famous opening lines of the gospel of John: “In the beginning was the Word [logos], and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Ponticus clearly establishes these eight thoughts, or “words” as substitutions for God’s reason. An evil seed to oppose the good fruit of the spirit, perhaps. But his list was a little different, consisting of: Gluttony, Lust, Avarice, Sadness (meaning spiritual sloth), Wrath, Acedia (meaning spiritual apathy or despair), Vainglory, and Pride.
This list was refined and eventually standardized into the one we know now by Pope Gregory the Great in the 6th century, who is often called “the first truly medieval man.” According to Will Durant writing in Age of Faith, Gregory was a highly superstitious man steeped in magical paganistic concepts. He embodied the medieval mind, characterized by a blend of Christianity with heathenism, magic, and ritual. Certainly, the Roman-Catholic institution had by that time already had a mutative effect on the structure of the Christian church.
By this process, we come to the commonly known seven deadly sins, the sinful words to rival the Word of God. Notably, all seven are internal, thought-based sins. Lust, not adultery. Wrath, not murder. Gluttony, not drunkenness. On the surface, this seems to fit perfectly with Jesus’ emphasis on sins of thought, and the internalization of the spirit which followed His sacrifice and resurrection. So why, when we look through scripture, do we find this seeming lack of concern for the difference between thought and action?
In Galatians 5: “Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these.” Colossians 3 presents a very similar list, but includes evil desire, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk.
From Proverbs 6: “There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.”
From Jesus Himself in Mark 7: “For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”
At every turn, scripture shows a lack of distinction between action and thought in its quantification of sin. In the famous sermon on the mount, Jesus said, “You have heard it said, ‘do not commit adultery.’ But I say to you, whoever lusts after a woman has already committed adultery in his heart. You have heard it said ‘do not commit murder,’ but I say to you, whoever hates his brother has already committed murder in his heart.”
In his heart, you will notice. And we have heard previously that it is what comes out of a man’s heart that defiles him. Perhaps the intent here is not to establish a primacy of thought over action, but to establish an equivalency. Not A > B, but A = B—in spiritual terms, you understand, not in terms of accountability for the material effects of our actions. Still, it’s an intriguing thought, and may even go a long way in reconciling the age-old church debate between faith and works.
One of my most unpopular teachings, but which I have been implementing successfully for decades, is that you always and only do what you believe. In every case, action is matched by intention. And in the case of cognitive dissonance, when actions seem to conflict with beliefs, it is evidence of a conflicting belief, which may be unconscious. The alcoholic who gets drunk believes, in the moment, that it is what’s right for him, or at least that it’s the best he can hope for.
On consideration, the simple fact that cognitive behavioral therapy is effective is evidence that these behaviors are based on a belief. If they were wholly unreasoned, then what good could be done by revealing and analyzing them? Considering this way, Jesus seems to have been very far ahead of his time, psychologically speaking.
Fundamentally, I think it’s important not to become too invested in rigid definitions of discrete sin categories, because the borders that they draw can lead to a bargaining, “Monty Hall” attitude toward sin, and because they imply an emphasis on action and behavior, rather than on the heart’s intention—an emphasis on the law, in other words. A fixation on the precise measurement and categorization of sin distracts from the higher, unambiguous truth of its underlying nature, which can only be negatively defined by relationship with God, not by our own musings about His rules—as was the mistake of the Pharisees.
Have a blessed, wonderful day!
Dr. Alex Loyd
