Protestant Guilt

I grew up in one of those homes that religiously attended church every Sunday.
No sleeping in for my brothers and I to finish the weekend. We'd be rousted and up early, dressed in less than comfortable clothes, the hair on one side of our heads, or the top, or the back plastered down with a combination of water, mom-spit and comb in an attempt to tame an unruly case of bedhead.
We could do the flannel graph version of David and Goliath almost from memory by the time we were five and had penciled many a pew inspired masterpiece on the back of visitor cards before we were old enough to read all of the words on the other side.
I can still clearly remember sitting in second grade Sunday school class when our teacher imparted wisdom to us that was much like this:

"There are some things that you do that are bad. We call those things 'sin'. The Bible tells us that sin gets in the way between us and God...it separates us from God. The Bible also tells us that the good things we do will never be good enough to get us back close to God."...and from there she went on the explain the need for Jesus to die on the cross.
Of course I had heard this before but this time I actually got it. I understood this gospel thing! And so I prayed, very deliberately, the prayer.
Then, being a curious and somewhat precocious seven year old, I asked, "Ummm...What now?"
"Well, " she enthusiastically informed me, " now you need to be sure to read your Bible and attend Sunday school, pray everyday, and sing songs to God." ('Worship' is a foreign concept to seven year olds and they sometimes think you're talking about war ships which takes the conversation in an entirely wrong direction.)
The teacher was still beaming as she handed each of us who had prayed a brand new crispy-paged bible. I made my way back to my tiny seat smiling the half-smile of being caught up in the moment and as I sat down...
I was completely lost.
If half of what I did was bad then of course I would end up doing these things bad half the time...and feel guilty.
and
If half of what I did was good, but not good enough, then I'd never be able to do these things good enough...and feel guilty.

Was I now doomed to a life of cyclical guilt?

At this point allow me to meekly confess that I did NOT think all of that when I sat down in my small wooden Sunday school chair. In truth it has taken me years of study and striving to come to this conclusion.

And now I get it.

This "list of things to do" creates what I have come to recognize as Protestant guilt.
It's quite different from Catholic guilt.
Catholics have original guilt, they're born with it.
We Protestants earn our guilt. We have the seeds of it bestowed upon us as part and parcel of the Protestant work-ethic; seeds which are nurtured by well meaning Sunday school teachers armed with vacation bible school curricula.
It is coaxed into full bloom by various evangelism methodologies and somewhere between 25 and 50 days of either purpose, prayer, or spiritual adventure.

Interestingly original guilt can be cleansed through weekly ritual.
Protestant guilt is sticky stuff that clings and hangs around for years infusing its tendrils into the soul at an almost subatomic level.

For those suffering from Protestant guilt I offer this ancient prescription:

• Stop shoulding on yourself.
• Spend 30 days just hanging out with God listening.
• See where He takes you.

Listen close though. When it comes to the mightiest truths, He tends to whisper.

(If you need further assistance might I suggest renting the film, "Evan Almighty" and imagine hanging out with Morgan Freeman's character.)