Gandhi's Seven Deadly Sins
OCTOBER, 2009
The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
A few years ago I delivered a sermon here about Sin – a concept in which Unitarian Universalists like to say we don’t believe…but I know better!
In that sermon I shared the definition of sin posited by the German theologian, Paul Tillich: Any estrangement from God, from human relationships, and from oneself.
Since delivering that sermon, I have discovered that the great teacher and activist, Mahatma Gandhi – whose 140th birthday was two days ago – also had a definition of sin; he said it was “any attachment to the senses.” Gandhi was a Hindu, and those teachings make it very clear: Non-attachment is to be our ultimate goal – be that to the senses, the fruits of our labor, to human relationships, or to wealth.
But I don’t think that Gandhi’s definition of sin is that much different from Paul Tillich’s. For is it not when we become overly attached to something – be it money, drugs, religious doctrines, political ideologies, etc. – that we cause a tear in our relationships – ultimately in our relationship with our deepest self, and with that which is most Holy?
In that earlier sermon on Sin, I also made mention of the so-called “Seven Deadly Sins” – Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Pride, and my personal favorite, Sloth. But I have also learned that Gandhi had his own list of “seven deadly sins” – behaviors that could destroy us – and that’s what I want to reflect on this morning.
The first of Gandhi’s sins was “wealth without work.” The concept of work was important to Gandhi, in part because the third Hindu path to God, called “Karma Yoga,” recognizes the human impulse to find meaning through work.
As the poet Marge Piercy writes, “The pitcher cries for water to carry, and a person for work that is real.” We all want to have work – whethere paid or volunteer – that makes us feel “of use.”
But I imagine that when Gandhi listed “wealth without work” as the first of his “seven deadly sins,” he was most concerned about those who make a lot of money – who are truly “wealthy” – without working for that wealth. He may have been thinking of those who live solely off a large inheritance, or from the stock market (though that wouldn’t be so possible these days!) or from gambling – and do nothing but feed their obsessions with that income. It is not healthy for their soul.
But I wonder, too, what he would say about the huge salaries that American atheletes and entertainers earn? Or the six-and-seven-digit salaries of corporate executives, who pay some of their employees barely a living wage, or lay off employees when a recession hits rather than forfeiting some of their own financial benefits?
It’s not that these people don’t work and don’t deserve a comfortable living; some of them are incredibly smart and talented, and work hard at their craft or their job. But it is the amount of income they derive that is so unbalanced; and that so often, the work required becomes controlled by the money it garners, not by the spiritual meaning it brings to them and their loved ones.
And I suspect that Gandhi would suggest that the path to God would require giving away much of that wealth, so that one does not risk becoming too “attached.”
Gandhi himself did not grow up poor, yet he insisted on living as simply as possible when he became an adult. He would always ride 3rd class on trains, even though he could have afforded 1st class. When asked why, he replied, “Because there is no 4th class!”
“Pleasure without conscience” was Gandhi’s second “deadly sin.” In the Hindu view, there is nothing wrong with pleasure itself. But alone, it is too trivial and narrow to bring true happiness. And always, always, it must be undertaken without hurting anyone.
We have seen a summer filled with the sexual exposes of politicians. And just this past week, late-night TV host David Letterman admitted to having had sexual relationships with female employees – during the time he was in a serious relationship with the woman who is now his wife. But the only reason this came to light was because he was being blackmailed, and so decided to tell about that frightening experience, and – oh yes, by the way, the blackmail was about these illicit relationships.
I would imagine that Gandhi would point to Letterman’s behavior as “pleasure without conscience,” especially given that he didn’t seem particularly remorseful about it.
But probably all of us have indulged in some kind of “pleasure without conscience,” and in so doing, have remained “attached” to short-lived pleasures, and have contributed to a false sense of separateness from those we may be hurting. Sometimes it is overt, but more often, it is simply uncsciousness.
Indeed, our greater challenge may be to live our life with more attentiveness to the effect we have on the rest of the world -- by where we shop, where we vacation, the products we use, the food we eat. Living with such awareness reminds us that we are always in relationship with the larger web of creation, and allows us to make intentional moral choices.
“Knowledge without character” is Gandhi’s third “deadly sin.” I’m reminded of a man I used to know who loved to brag about his membership not only in Mensa, the organization for people above a certain IQ. There was no doubt as to this man’s brilliance; his mind never stopped dreaming up new ideas, and he always had an answer to every question. Yet he was also one of the most egotistical and insensitive people I’ve known – and, I came to realize, one of the most fragile and insecure. He had much knowlege, but little character.
Gandhi said that “Knowledge (of facts) adds grace to life, but is in no way indispensable for one’s moral, physical or material growth. True knowledge,” he contended, “gives moral standing and moral strength.” It is what is also known as Wisdom, and it springs not from our IQ alone, but from our heart.
The fourth “deadly sin,” according to Gandhi, is “commerce without moralilty,” and was perhaps his greatest concern. His entire movement in India began because the British had taken so much of the agricultural land away from the Indian people, and had begun importing cloth and other commerce from outsie the country. They had also passed laws against the collection and sale of salt; instead, it was imported from Great Britain, and sold to the Indian people at terribly high prices. So not only were the Indian people deprived of work and the ability to earn a living, but they were forced to become dependent on foreign industry that they couldn’t afford. Poverty rose dramatically, and along with it, despair.
The brilliance of Gandhi was that he was able to inspire the people to resist the British government’s laws by returning to the art of spinning, and by refusing to wear anything made with foreign cloth. The people learned to spin their own cloth, and the spinning wheel became a powerful symbol of liberation and economic justice. Even the wealthy began wearing home-spun cloth.
Today, in our own country, we witness many in the corporate world committing this sin of “commerce without morality” – attachment to profits over concern for human well-being. We are told that this is “free enterprise” – that Democracy can only thrive hand-in-hand with the “free market.”
But according to Stephen Covey, author of Principle-Cenered Leadership, the first book that was written by the founder of our economic system, Adam Smith, titled Moral Sentiment, stressed that “economic and political systems are ultimately based on a moral foundation,” and that “every business transaction is a moral challenge to see that both parties come out fairly.”
If our business leaders practiced what Adam Smith preached in his first book (as opposed to his second book, which is the one most economists tend to quote), they would be able to balance their genuine need for some profit with their moral concern for the common good; and they would come closer to Gandhi’s goal of non-attachment. It will be imperative if we are to avoid a future economic crisis as destructive as the current one.
Gandhi’s fifth “deadly sin” was “science without humanity,” for he lived long enough to witness how deadly our great scientific advances can become.
It is heartbreaking to remember that while witnessing the detonation of the first atomic bomb, one of is creators, Robert Oppenheimer, recalled two lines from the Bhavagad Gita: “I am become death, the shatterer of worlds….” Oppenheimer realized fully, in that moment, the inhumane horror that this great scientific feat could cause. How terrible that must have felt to him.
The discoveries of the 20th century have at times been mind-bogglinig, and it’s not slowing down any in the 21st century. We are like children, delighting in the results of our imaginations, looking ever at the next invention, and the next. But when do we stop to explore the affect that some of these may have on our collective soul? Destruction of humanoity through nuclear war has been the most frightening thought; but we know now how much our carelessness with advancing technologies has contributed to the ongoing warming of our planet.
With every advance in medical technology comes new questions of morality and ethics: How late in a pregnancy should one be able to abort? At what point should a person be allowed to end their life, and for what reason? How old is too old to have a heart transplant or some other expensive life-saving treatment?
And do our advances in communications technology truly bring us closer together, or create barriers to meaningful relationship? How much control do we have now over our privacy? How much control do we have over our lives?
We are lilke children with our science, and I worry sometimes that we won’t grow up soon enough – that we won’t stop long enough to think about the deeper consequences of some of these great wonders. Gandhi would implore us to slow down, and focus more on those inventions that will truly create a world of health and well-being for all.
The sixth “deadly sin” is “worship without sacrifice.” To Gandhi, who based his life on the Bhavagad Gita, the Koran, and the Gospels of Jesus, the act of sacrifice was important – not just for the sake of doing without, but for the sake of humanity. He never asked anyone to do anything that he hadn’t already experienced himself. He was known to often clean out the latrines in the Ashram, alongside the newest converts. He gave up a law practice and middle-class life to live the life of the poor.
But he asked that others sacrifice as well, especially as long as there were poor among them. He said, “In India we have three million people who have to be satisfied with one meal a day. You and I have no right to anything we have until these three million are clothed and fed better.”
There is a hymn in our blue hymnbook that I never choose – in part because it’s a difficult one to sing. But mostly it’s the words that I resist. The first line is fine: “As we sing of hope and joy today” – which sounds really upbeat. But then it goes on: “Some know only anguish and despair. How can we lift our voices in this way while some have pain and misery to spare?” Bummer!
But it’s exactly the question Gandhi would ask of us. The next verses of that hymn provide his answer: “If a crumbling world we would renew, we must sing no ordinary song….Sing of joy while hammering each nail. Sing of hope while pulling every weed. So shall we sing together and prevail; may every Alleluia bear a seed.”
What would we have to sacrifice to truly live our Unitarian Universalist Principles? It is a question I raise with you from time to time, but one which confronts me over and over again in my daily life. For I know how far I am from the kind of sacrifice of which Gandhi spoke.
And finally, his last Deadly Sin was an all-too-familiar one, I’m afraid: “Politics without principle.” Gandhi knew that to practice politics for the sake of power was to lose, ultimately. What moved people to follow him, including even British officials, was his integrity – his devotion to a personal practice of all the concepts he preached.
Do we know what principles are guiding each of our politicians? Many of us might contend that they have none, other than perhaps getting re-elected. Yet some of you are deeply involved in politics, working closely with our elected officials, or with those who aspire to be elected to political office. I had an uncle who served in the U.S. Congress for 20 years, and I knew him to be a man of great integrity. It is often said that “politics is the art of compromise,” and the challenge facing politicians today is to balance that art while remaining true to themselves; I don’t think that happens very often, though I do believe we witness it in some.
Rabbi Michael Lerner of Tikkun magazine speaks of a “Politics of Meaning,” in which our political institutions would act out of a deep spiritual commitment to a society grounded in caring relationship and ethical and ecological sensitivity. We can work towards Lerner’s vision, insisting that those for whom we vote act with the principles they espouse.
All of these “deadly sins” named by Gandhi move us away from our relationship to the Holy Spirit of Life, and hence our connection to all Creation – not only as individuals, but as
communities of people who are longing for connection, and thirsting for deeper meaning in our lives. All of these “sins” chip away at our collective soul.
But our churches are places where we can offer one another wisdom, guidance, and strength in our quest for deeper meaning. Then might we find Gandhi’s “Seven Deadly Sins” transformed into these “Seven Vitalizing Joys”: Work that is meaningful; pleasure which moves us toward true relationship; knowledge which builds courage and moral strength; commenrce grounded in fairness to all; science which encourages life and community; worship which mirrors to us the religious values we hold most dear; and political leaders who offer hope and courage through their own acts of courage.
Let us strive for these visions, with no attachment to seeing the results, as they may not be realized in our lifetime. But let us work together nevertheless, to create a world in which our children and our children’s children can feel safe and loved and ever-hopeful for life.
Amen.
© 2008-2010 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
