The seven deadly sins appear in many places in literature. This bit of dialogue about the Seven
Deadly Sins from the novel Doctored Evidence (see back of prep) inspired this session. We
Unitarian Universalists don’t spend much time thinking of sin. What is our definition of sin?
Does it have any relevance in our lives?
1) The seven deadly sins are pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth/acedia according to the Roman Catholic Church. How do you feel about these sins? Do you feel that our society no longer considers these sinful? Do they have relevance in our lives today?
2) What sins would you add? What would you take away?
3) Ghandi made his own list of seven sins: Wealth without Work, Pleasure without
Conscience, Science without Humanity, Knowledge without Character, Politics without
Principle, Commerce without Morality, Worship without Sacrifice . Try to make your own list of sins.
4) Kathleen Norris in her book, Acedia and Me talks about “spiritual sloth”. She says:
“Acedia actually means indifference. It means being unable to care, and that, by extension, believing that God couldn’t possibly care about you. You don’t care about anything. And I really think indifference, in that sense, is a major problem in our world today.” From interview with Kathleen Norris on beliefnet.com
. Have you experienced this? Has it felt sinful?
5) What is your experience of sin? Is the concept if sin useful to you?
Resources and further reading: http://deadlysins.com/ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_deadly_sins
Acedia and Me by Kathleen Norris
Skipping Toward Gomorrah by Dan Savage
G235, 01/04/2010
© 2010 First Unitarian Church of San Jose

From Donna Leon's Inspector Brunetti crime novel, Doctored evidence . London: Heinemann, 2005, ch. 9.
Paola had been as good as her word, for the aromas that met him as he entered the apartment were a rich blend of seafood, garlic, and something he wasn't sure about, perhaps spinach. . . She was already seated at the table, a glass of white wine in front of her, reading.
'All right,' he said, 'I'll ask you what you're reading.'
She glanced at him over her reading glasses and said, 'A book that should be of great interest to us both, Guido: Chiara's [their daughter's] textbook on religious doctrine.' Little good could come of this, Brunetti realized instantly, but still he asked, 'Why to us?'
'Because of what it tells us about the world we live in,' she said, setting the book down and taking a sip of wine.
'For example? 'he asked, going to the refrigerator and taking out the open bottle. It was the good
Ribolla Gialla they'd bought from a friend in Corno di Rosazzo.
'There's a chapter here,' she said, pointing at the page she had been reading, 'on the Seven Deadly
Sins.'
Brunetti had often thought that it was convenient that there should be one for each day of the week, but he kept this thought to himself for the moment. 'And?' he asked.
'And I started thinking about the way our society has ceased to think of them as sins or, if not all of them, has managed at least to remove most of the scent of sin that was once attached to them.'
He pulled out a chair and sat opposite her, not really interested in this latest observation but willing to listen. He raised his glass in her direction and took a sip. It was as good as he remembered its being. Thank God, then, for good wine and good friends, and thank God even for a wife who could find reason for polemic in a middle school textbook of religious doctrine.
'Think of lust,' she continued.
'I often do,' he said and leered.
Ignoring him, she went on. 'When we grew up, it was, if not a sin, at least a semi-sin, or at least something that one did not discuss or present in public. Now you can't look at a film or television or a magazine without seeing it.'
'Do you think that's bad?' he asked.
'Not necessarily. Just different. Maybe a better case is gluttony.'
Ah, that was to strike a blow close to home, Brunetti thought, and pulled in his stomach a little.
'We're encouraged to it all the time. Every time we open a magazine or a newspaper.'
'Gluttony?' he asked, puzzled.
'Not gluttony for food, necessarily,' she said, 'but the taking in or consumption of more than we need. After all, what is owning more than one television or one car or one house but a form of gluttony?'
'I'd never thought of it that way,' he temporized and went back to the refrigerator for more wine.
'No, neither did I, not until I started to read this book. They define gluttony as eating too much and leave it at that, but I started thinking about what it would or could mean in larger terms.'
G235, 01/04/2010
© 2010 First Unitarian Church of San Jose