The Cardinal Sins [antikvár]

A Note About the Cordinol Sins The so-called cardinal (or "deadly" or "capital") sins are not sins at all but seven disorderly propensities in our personality that lead us to sinful behavior. Pride, covetousness, lust, anger, gluttony, envy, and sloth are sound and healthy human proclivities gone askew: self-respect, self-preservation, communion, personal freedom, self-expression, celebration, relaxation. The cardinal sins result not from fundamental evil but from fundamental goodness running out of control, from human love that is confused and frightened and not trusting enough of love. The cardinal sins have nothing to do, of course, with the members of the Sacred College, who, as we all know, commit hardly any sins. Traditional Catholic spirituality has contended that all of us have a "dominant fault," the cardinal sin that is strongest in our personality (just as in medieval morality plays a different character paradigmatically represents each of the seven vices). If one were to seek the dominant fault of the four leading actors in this story, one might conclude that Kevin's weakness is pride, Patrick's covetousness, Ellen's anger (with an occasional dash of gluttony), and Maureen's sloth (or "acedia," as it is sometimes called). They are all troubled—^as are the rest of us—^by not a little lust and envy. —A.M.G. I nil^itil'rrAiiAyriifrfii AuthoKs Note Unfortunately there is no real-life counterpart of Patrick Cardinal Donahue. Despite all his flaws and faults he is a much more effective leader than many of our current crop of crimson-clad princes of the Church. The student of the history of the Sacred College will perceive, I am sure, that many less worthy than he have worn the sacred scarlet during the last millennium. He is a product of my imagination, a "what-if' character like eveiyone else in the book (save for those not marked with an asterisk in the Cast of Ecclesiastical Characters, which follows). Also imaginary are the events in the archdiocese of Chicago after 1965. The book, then, is story, not history or biography or (perhaps sadly) autobiography. It is nonetheless true. ANDREW M. GREELEY Chicago Spring, 1981