Growing up, Good and Evil were not on the syllabus.

Polite or im-, smart or dumb, cool or gross, naughty or “nice” divided one’s acquaintance. “Well-behaved” was the ultimate parental accolade. Good and Evil reeked of old-time morality like a dank cellar. Ministers at our ever-so-polite Episcopalian church never hurled those terms; I doubt the Catholics or Presbyterians did either. (We didn’t know any Jews – or if we did, we didn’t know.) Humanity, then as always, could be sifted into Better and Worse, according to one’s biases: but Good and Evil connoted a durable verdict issued by a scowling deity. Hitler, we were told, was evil, but he was a German and we beat him so that was that.

For sure no one ordered me to be a warrior for grace. Grace was a (not very popular) girl’s name and that was that.

Not until retirement gave me time to ponder did I come to see Good and Evil as permanent contestants for our souls. One pledged to either party or wobbled disconcertingly between. The military metaphors theology superimposed paid tribute to these forces’ organizational might: no one was literally angel or devil, neither were heaven and hell deliverable addresses. But both forces were endlessly busy in the world, recruiting, seducing, persuading, confusing, hardening, softening, consoling. Their battle was to the death, had to be, for they aimed to extinguish each other. Neither could rest easy while the other was in the field.

What divided them? Words dissolve here like a mirage. Easier to sense Good and Evil than define them.

I’m drawn to that old word Generosity as the distinction: generosity not just of means but of spirit. Do we wish others well or is our focus our self? Do we live in a We or Me world? Do we suffer at others’ suffering or lament only our own? The Devil asks, “What’s in it for me?” An angel, “What’s in it for us?”

Evil tempts with palpable enticements, the ones Jesus spurned in the desert: possessions, power, pride. Who wouldn’t want to be pampered, obeyed, praised! But at what cost? Goodness dangles feelings, not things, as our reward: affection, consolation, a quiet heart. Goodness must inure itself to the shame of losing the rat race. “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Mark 8:36)

Evil often masquerades as Good but the two aren’t easily confused. The times I did wrong in pursuit of goods and not the Good, the verdict of my thoughts was swift and just. Easier to bullshit others than ourselves. Evil slams the door on Goodness groaning.

Many would like to be Good, but the obligations of enrollment are so onerous! It hurts to be a saint – and if it doesn’t, you’re not one. Goodness knows it could have done better, more. Evil whoops up its wins; Goodness refrains from rollicking in a world so sad.

At present, in America and much of earth, Evil seems to hold sway. Headlines dishearten. Even saints may be tempted to throw in the towel: to hell with humans, they deserve the mess they’ve made! But Goodness knows that even if hidden or seemingly impotent, Goodness persists, recoups, rekindles, for the rewards of Evil stale and Good means never giving up.

I cannot prove the forces of Good are gaining ground. My battered hopes may be deceiving me. But I’m sure, if not now, Goodness will regain the territories lost to Selfishness, Viciousness, Vice. I believe this because I must. Without the carrot of a future, the donkey balks.