When I served as chaplain at Mercy Hospital, there was a Protestant minister, the Rev. Robert Bishop, who had on his desk an artistic piece of seven “ugly faces.” He told me they represented the seven “deadly” or “capital” sins. Rev. Bishop noted these were not beautiful faces to look at, and we should avoid them at all cost.

Pope Gregory the Great and St. John Cassian in the sixth century are credited with distinguishing the seven deadly sins. They are pride (the source of all sin), greed (avarice), gluttony, sloth, envy, lust and anger (1866 in the “Catechism of the Catholic Church”).

There is no shortage of sin in the world. The seven deadly sins are evident in many ways. C.S. Lewis reminded us that the devil’s biggest victories are when he convinces us that there is no sin, and hence no need for mercy — “just get on with life.”

St. Paul, in his theology on “sin” in his letter to the Romans, Chapter 7, gets to the core of our human nature and its struggles. Paul reminds us that we often do the things we should not do, and don’t do the things that we should do, and in the process get tangled up. We must allow the Holy Spirit to fire and mold us straight. (See Romans 7:15-20.)

The season of Lent makes us come face-to-face with our own sinful humanity. “All sin is a kind of lying,” St. Augustine of Hippo said. Are we on the side of honesty or deception; fidelity or betrayal; decency or perversity; generosity or selfishness; compassion or indifference; acceptance or prejudice; integrity or duplicity?

According to the Semitic or biblical expression, the heart is the place “to which I withdraw.” It is our hidden center — even beyond the grasp of reason, which only the Spirit of God can fathom and know fully.

The heart is:

1. The place of decision — deeper than our psychic drives.

2. The place of truth, where we choose life or death.

3. The place of encounter because, as the image of God, we live in relation — it is the place of covenant (catechism, 2562-2564).

One cannot reach the heights of spiritual maturity when our “unchecked demons” slowly and subtly destroy our interior life. Demons are intelligent, powerful, deceitful and formidable foes. It was true in Jesus’ time, and it’s true today.

Sin comes in various forms: addictions, compulsions, obsessions, and legions of other sizes and shapes that destroy and constrict our freedom. Left to our own devices, the demons will always win. Never allow failure, weakness or sinfulness to tarnish God’s love and care. One keeps in check through naming, claiming and taming our sinful patterns. This ongoing process needs to be done patiently.

In Alcoholics Anonymous, there is a motto — “progress, not perfection.” Golfer John Daly once said, on trying to remain sober, “I’ve always got a demon and an angel on each one of my shoulders. Both are telling me what to do. The key is not to listen to the demon, because he’s never going to leave me.”

As my longtime bishop friend, mentor, companion and spiritual writer, Bob Morneau, auxiliary bishop of Green Bay, says, “Confession may not be good for our reputation, but it is surely good for our souls!” No sins are too big, too old or too dirty to be beyond Christ’s power to forgive; no sinful attachments beyond his ability to dissolve; no conflicts beyond his capacity to resolve; no situations beyond his power to rectify; and no hurts beyond his power to heal. Sin is ugly, forgiveness is beautiful!

St. Augustine wrote, “Trust the past to God’s mercy, the present to God’s love, the future to God’s providence.”