It’s not possible not to be evil

Well, thank goodness Father's Day is over and we don't need to worry about all those dads any more. One day is surely enough. Now we can all return to our own individual focuses and pursuits. “What about children's day?” Elphine asked, in the most cliche way possible. And immediately, in unison, both of voice and spirit, several adults gave the usual full throated reply, “every day is children's day.”

And that really is the truth, tragically. Every day is about the children, intermingled with a healthy dose, or rather, more probably, an unhealthy dose, of Me. What do I want to do? I ask myself. Not that I do it, but I always factor it in. Then we go on and do whatever it is about the children. Asking oneself, for at least part of one day, What would the father of all these children like to do? That's such a stretch. Really, one day is enough.

I jest, a little bit. I'm feeling sorry and sad about all my own selfishness. It's such a struggle to consider, for real, not in a fake, hypocritical way, the life of another person. It's so impossible to completely set the self, the ego, all the way to one side, and consider life wholly on the terms of the other. It might be possible to do it in actions, for a short time, but never completely with the mind and heart. Even when I trick myself into believing that I'm being, not just acting, but being really selfless, the very business of remarking on it ruins the selflessness.

Anyway, I'm thinking about this because halfway through yesterday, as I was looking at all the pictures of everyone's lovely fathers, I thought, well, what a grace that it's Father's Day and we don't have to worry about Charleston any more. I mean, surely I'm not the only one to descend to such evil. Isn't the news cycle invented to keep us going on to the next thing? To not think something all the way through? And then Father's Day was relieved by the terrible news of Tullian.

Really, it's all the same terrible sin. In every case, whatever the presenting factors, it's each of us continuing on as the very center of the universe. It's not identity. It's not racism. It's not adultery. I mean, it is all of those things, but at the very core, at the very heart of it, it's the same problem that I'm caught in. That I am the center of the universe and my will must reign. It's all so desperately and horribly tragic. Both out there, and inside of here. May God have mercy. May God just have so so much mercy.

Look! I went to the trouble deliberately and knowingly to make a clafoutis for Father's Day that Matt can't, or rather won't, eat. Ah! Love. It's what makes the world go round.

Happy Birthday Mommy!