More About “Catholic Guilt”

The other day, I wrote about how that much-maligned “Catholic guilt” is such a blessing in my life because it keeps me from doing things that will turn me away from God. (You can read that post here.)

I started out that epistle with the following story about a lady I’d chatted with at the Lutheran church I attend with my husband:

I remember once, when I was in the early stages of coming into the Catholic church, sitting in our “What it Means to be a Lutheran” Sunday school class and having one of the ladies in our small group discussion say to me (as a kind of preface for something she was about to say), “Well, I grew up Catholic, and there’s a lot of guilt associated with that…..”

When I wrote that post, I couldn’t remember our conversation at all, apart from her preface. But yesterday, I suddenly remembered.

When she said she had a lot of guilt, she was referring to guilt about not doing enough—you know, not giving enough money, not helping people enough, etc. This is a lady—I remember, too, that her name was Sheila—who works in the neonatal intensive care unit at the hospital. And she has big kids at home (by “big kids,” I mean kids quite a bit older than mine). Busy lady.

So she was saying that her Catholic upbringing made her constantly feel guilty about how much (or how little) she is doing to make the world a better place.

Once I’d recalled that, I wondered: what did I say to her? I knew I must have said something.

I did. My mom has this theory about memories being stored like suitcases in our brains—suddenly, I had a firm grip on the handle of that memory suitcase, it sprung open, and I remembered (almost exactly) what I said.

“Why do you feel so guilty? You are helping take care of the tiniest, sickest babies. That’s doing a lot! You’re raising your kids. The only reason to feel guilty would be if you really felt like God was calling you to do something and you weren’t doing it. If you’re feeling convicted about something but are ignoring that inner voice, then your guilt is a good thing—that’s your conscience trying to tell you that you need to take action.

“But if you’ve prayed about how God wants to use you and you don’t feel him pointing you towards any particular thing, then maybe it’s because you’re already doing what you ought to be doing, and it’s enough. If that’s the case, then your guilt isn’t legitimate; it’s something in your head that you need to just push out; or it’s the devil trying to steal your joy. You don’t need to feel guilty if you’re doing as much as you can, if you’re doing what God wants you to do.”

Sheila seemed somewhat relieved to hear this. (And I have to say that this was one time in my life where the right words just sprang up at the right time. I think it’s because I felt very comfortable chatting with her. I probably had a lot of help from the Holy Spirit, too! Normally, I feel kind of like a bumbling idiot when I talk to people; I’m much better at expressing my thoughts in writing!)

I think this is such an important distinction to make—the difference between “good guilt” and “bad guilt.” People who just go around feeling guilty for no valid reason—well, that’s not being free in Christ at all. On the other hand, people who fool themselves into thinking that what they’re doing is just fine (when it’s not) should be feeling guilty.

Guilt is a great motivator, when it’s valid guilt coming from an informed conscience. But when it comes from our own perfectionistic tendencies and pride (our feeling like we can—and should— “do it all”), then all it does is suck the joy and productivity right out of us.

I think the reason so many Catholics (and lapsed or former Catholics) have all this “Catholic guilt” is because they know, deep down, that they are not following the teachings of the Church and that this is not pleasing to our Lord Jesus. An awful lot of people leave the Church because they don’t want to submit to Church authority on matters of morality. They feel guilty because they know they’re not doing what they ought.

Where there’s good guilt, there’s hope. Where there’s bad guilt, there’s hope. And where there’s no guilt at all, there’s still hope!

Thank God for that!