Like many books from Sophia Institute Press, The Hidden Power of Kindness (by Fr. Lawrence Lovasik) is a solid book in a deceptive binding. By looking at the front cover of my copy, with its 90s illustrations of hugs and kite-flying, or the back cover, littered with overblown self-help-style promises, you might not appreciate what is inside - one of the deepest treatments of love-of-neighbor and daily interpersonal justice produced by a modern Catholic author. (The book was originally published as Kindness. Sophia Institute Press republished it in abridged form.)
It is difficult to read even a paragraph of this book without feeling a sting in one's conscience. It is really a kind of book-length examination of conscience; but it is more than that. Where it wounds, it binds and heals. It was written in the middle of last century, a time when there was the kind of moral clarity that is sorely lacking today. Fr. Lovasik does not hesitate to delineate mortal and venial sins. We live in a time when mortal sin has basically been reduced to a few heinous crimes (axe murder and armed bank robbery) and anything related to sex outside of marriage, and most everything else seems to fall into the category of "Aw shucks, better luck next time!" But, there are actually ways in which we gravely violate God's law beyond these, and we do not regard them as mortal sins because our society is so lax and we have poorly-formed consciences, which do not excuse mortal sin. This is where The Hidden Power of Kindness excels, I believe. It might be aptly subtitled, "Forming a Just Conscience in a Degenerate Age."
Here's an example of what I mean, from a section on gossip. "Most gossip is not serious in itself, but gossip can be a mortal sin. To spread a story, for instance, that a neighbor has been unfaithful to his wife is to damage his reputation in a serious way. If the story is false, or even if true, a grave injury has been inflicted upon him, more so than if he had been robbed of a large sum of money. If a number of people are all instrumental in spreading that false story, all of them are guilty of serious wrongdoing." And further: "To say that you are sorry for your careless gossip does not forgive the sin, for that is not true contrition. Contrition is proving that you are sorry. You prove your sorrow by making up to the best of your ability for the harm you have done. If you take away a person's reputation from him, you are obliged to restore that reputation."
I include this passage because it stings my conscience, because, for me, gossip is one of those things with which I tend to dismiss as "Aw shucks, better luck next time! Thank goodness for the penitential rite at the beginning of Mass!" But, in fact, I think my conscience is poorly formed in this area, and after unjustly spreading true or false information that harms the reputation of another, I should make peace and restitution with my injured brother before approaching the altar and Holy Communion.
In all, this is a very solid book, which I hope to re-read attentively and prayerfully.
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