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Summary
Original
sin
is
not
original,
but
goodness
is.
In
this
article,
I
suggest
that
original
sin
is
a
word
that
stands
for
beliefs
about
the
self,
whether
it’s
feeling
like
a
wretch
or
believing
the
self
to
be
entitled
to
take
what
you
want
regardless
of
consequences
for
others.
Goodness
exists
before
we
do
and
will
exist
after
we
are
gone.
Original
sin
dies
with
us.
It
dies
with
us
because
it
is
a
personal
construction
that
begins
after
we
are
born
in
response
to
our
misinterpretations
of
the
meanings
of
the
behaviors
of
others
and
the
implications
of
our
misinterpretations
for
our
own
self-‐worth.
Seeing
the
good
in
others
is
easy.
Seeing
the
good
in
ourselves
is
hard.
Seeing
the
good
in
ourselves
may
be
as
harrowing
as
dealing
with
and
letting
go
of
the
false
beliefs
about
ourselves
that
drag
us
down.
Most
religions
deal
with
issues
of
good
and
evil.
It’s
time
to
re-‐examine
the
notion
of
original
sin
and
entertain
new
ideas
about
it.
If
we
do,
we
may
develop
ideas
about
what
to
do
about
its
effects
on
the
quality
of
our
collective
lives
and
on
each
of
our
individual
lives.
About
the
Author
Jane
Gilgun
is
a
writer
and
professor.
See
Professor
Gilgun’s
other
articles,
children’s
stories,
and
books
on
scribd.com,
Amazon
Kindle,
and
iBooks
for
a
variety
of
e-‐readers
and
mobile
devices.
Original
Sin
is
Not
Original,
But
Goodness
is
Original
sin
is
not
original,
but
goodness
is.
Goodness
exists
before
we
do
and
it
exists
after
we
die.
Original
sin
is
a
human
construction
meant
to
explain
our
self-‐loathing,
our
senses
of
entitlement,
and
the
evil
we
do.
The
belief
systems
that
some
call
original
sin
begin
from
early
in
our
lives.
We
are
not
born
with
them.
Freud
had
a
name
for
what
some
call
original
sin.
That
name
is
the
subconscious.
I
don’t
know
if
Freud
said
that
our
experiences
of
goodness
are
also
part
of
the
subconscious,
but
I
believe
they
are.
The
components
of
our
subconscious—the
goodness,
the
self-‐loathing,
and
the
entitlements—are
difficult
to
understand.
I
don’t
know
if
anyone
has
ever
completed
that
project.
Few
unravel
their
own
subconscious
because
the
content
of
our
subconscious
is
outside
of
our
awareness,
hence
the
root
meaning
of
the
word:
below
awareness
or
below
consciousness.
As
human
beings,
we
construct
hard
shells
around
the
painful
parts
of
our
subconscious.
Those
shells
are
almost
impossible
to
break
through.
Even
if
we
try,
it’s
as
if
we
require
a
chisel
and
hammer.
It
seems
that
experience
provides
the
hammer
and
chisel;
usually
without
our
asking
or
even
knowing
we
could
use
a
hammer
and
chisel.
The
cracking
of
the
shell
seems
to
happen
when
we
put
ourselves
in
situations
where
this
is
a
possibility.
Human
beings
may
have
needed
the
concept
of
original
sin
to
explain
the
terrible
things
that
we
do
in
reaction
to
self-‐loathing
and
entitlement.
When
self-‐loathing
stirs,
we
may
experience
agony.
Who
wants
to
experience
that?
We
do
a
lot
of
things
to
relieve
our
hurt,
including
good
deeds
and
talking
to
someone,
but
we
may
also
kick
the
dog
or
do
other
hurtful
things.
We
may
do
things
that
hurt
ourselves.
Of
course,
many
of
our
good
deeds
and
kindnesses
and
enjoyment
of
life
have
nothing
to
do
with
relieving
hurt,
but
simply
have
value
in
themselves.
When
entitlements
stir,
we
may
be
tempted
to
gratify
ourselves
without
regard
for
the
welfare
of
others.
All
that
counts
is
our
own
satisfaction.
I
want
what
they
have.
I
will
do
whatever
it
takes
to
get
it,
regardless
of
the
consequences
for
them.
When
we
act
out
self-‐
loathing
or
entitlement
or
both,
we
eventually
return
to
ourselves
in
our
wholeness;
that
is,
to
our
goodness.
We
then
may
have
regrets
and
want
to
build
bridges.
We
make
amends
and
change
our
ways.
They
will
have
plenty
of
opportunities
for
further
hurtful
acts
down
the
road,
only
to
repeat
the
process
of
sorrow
and
reconnection.
They
may
even
deepen
connections
to
goodness
in
the
process
of
realizing
what
they
have
done
and
making
up
for
unkind
deeds.
Some
people
are
so
imbued
with
entitlements
and
sometimes
also
with
self-‐loathing
that
they
regret
nothing.
Why
Connect
to
Goodness?
The
desire
to
stay
in
contact
with
goodness
is
important
because
it
is
a
counterforce
to
self-‐
loathing
and
entitlement
and
cruel
actions
that
result
from
them.
Furthermore,
contact
with
goodness
is
important
because
it
gives
meaning
to
lives
even
when
self-‐loathing
and
entitlements
are
dormant.
Contact
with
goodness
brings
joy
and
peace
that
passes
understanding.
I
don’t
think
we
can
escape
self-‐loathing
and
entitlement
because
no
experiences
of
infancy,
early
childhood,
and
beyond
are
perfectly
balanced.
No
set
of
parents
and
no
other
persons
can
respond
to
us
appropriately
and
sensitively
every
time
we
want
them
or
need
them.
I
talk
about
parents
here
because
of
my
belief
that
what
we
think
is
original
sin
begins
to
form
in
infancy
in
response
to
our
relationships
with
our
parents
and
others
and
how
we
interpret
these
relationships.
We
misinterpret
the
times
others
are
not
there
for
us
and
conclude
we
are
bad,
deserve
to
be
overlooked,
and
our
burning
hurts
deserve
to
go
unheeded.
We
build
expectations
that
others
will
be
unresponsive,
even
as
we
are
unaware
of
these
expectations.
We
fit
our
subsequent
experiences
into
these
expectations
and
so
the
expectations
grow
stronger.
Some
interactions
with
others
are
actively
abusive
and
neglectful.
Many
people
experience
trauma
at
the
hands
of
their
parents
or
others
who
are
supposed
to
care
for
them.
It’s
particularly
difficult
not
to
make
negative
judgments
about
personal
worth
and
entitlement
with
such
treatment,
if
there
is
no
one
to
help
us
unravel
the
meanings
of
these
events.
Entitlements
are
beliefs
that
our
parents
are
supposed
to
nurture
us
as
soon
as
we
want
them.
Entitlements
may
arise
when
we
have
not
learned
that
parents
sometimes
require
a
break,
even
from
us,
their
precious
darlings.
The
break
means
the
parents
are
replenishing
themselves
or
engaged
in
other
tasks.
The
lesson
of
waiting
for
what
we
want
is
an
ingredient
of
empathy,
of
staying
connected
to
goodness,
and
to
lowering
the
risk
of
allowing
ourselves
to
act
in
hurtful
ways
because
we
want
what
we
want
when
we
want
it.
We
are
not
in
command
of
other
people.
What
they
give
us
is
of
value
when
what
they
offer
is
freely
offered.
Fortunately,
our
parents
and
others
are
there
for
us
most
of
the
time.
So,
side-‐by-‐side
with
our
self-‐loathing
and
entitlements,
we
grow
expectations
that
others
care
about
us
and
we
care
about
them.
We
can
wait.
In
addition,
the
spirit
of
goodness
is
all
around
us.
This
cheers
us
up
even
as
others
are
not
available.
Many
of
us
experience
this
with
little
awareness
or
reflection,
and
we
seek
to
stay
in
contact
with
this
goodness.
This
desire
for
connection
is
like
a
compass
that
guides
us
away
from
doing
harm.
When
we
do
harm,
we
break
the
connection
with
goodness.
Desire
to
stay
connected
with
goodness,
therefore,
is
yet
another
safeguard
against
hurtful
actions.
Desire
to
stay
connected
with
goodness
is
also
a
counterforce
to
continually
experiencing
self-‐loathing
and
the
agitations
connected
to
entitlements.
It
is
almost
impossible
to
crack
the
hard
shell
that
we
grow
around
our
self-‐loathing
and
entitlements.
Ironically,
as
we
crack
it,
we
find
that
we
are
not
who
we
fear
we
are.
We
are
not
bad,
evil,
terrible,
pieces
of
crap,
or
deserving
of
instant
gratification
and
status.
Who
we
really
are
is
a
long
journey
of
self-‐discovery
and
discovery
of
ourselves
in
others
whom
we
may
always
have
loved,
and
in
art,
in
flowers
or
anything
else
that
stirs
us.
The
snake
pit
that
some
call
the
subconscious
becomes
a
site
of
incredible
self-‐knowledge
and
of
our
own
brand
of
creativity.
I
just
started
to
think
of
the
subconscious
as
a
site
of
rotting
seaweed.
We
have
to
move
the
seaweed
out
of
us
and
use
it
as
the
incredible
fertilizer
that
it
is.
We
require
a
connection
to
goodness
as
we
dare
to
wade
into
the
treachery
of
our
hidden
fears,
self-‐loathing,
and
entitlements.
It
might
even
take
more
courage
to
accept
ourselves
as
good
than
to
explore
our
dark
sides.
A
Personal
Story
I
did
wade
into
my
hidden
fears,
self-‐loathing,
and
entitlements.
I
did
not
do
it
on
purpose.
Who
would?
It’s
too
hard.
It
hurts
too
much.
We
risk
becoming
unmoored.
As
a
qualitative
social
work
researcher,
I
chose
to
do
in-‐depth
interviews
of
perpetrators
and
survivors
of
interpersonal
violence.
I
wanted
to
do
this
on
behalf
of
others
who
are
hurt
by
violence.
I
knew
the
hurt
of
violence,
not
so
much
because
I
had
experienced
it
myself,
but
because
I
know
the
hurt
that
most
people
probably
feel,
the
hurt
of
exclusion
and
of
being
discounted.
I
wanted
to
do
something
that
soothed
the
hurt
I
saw
in
so
many
eyes,
especially
the
children
with
whom
I
had
worked
as
a
social
worker,
girls
and
boys
who
had
experienced
abuse
and
neglect.
I
also
did
the
work
on
behalf
of
other
women.
Those
who
especially
inspired
me
had
survived
incredible
hurt
and
still
trucked
along,
with
some
hope
and
faith.
Men,
too,
inspired
my
research,
some
because
they
had
experienced
hurt
and
worked
at
staying
connected
to
goodness.
Hope
of
understanding
and
of
contributing
to
the
transformation
of
men
and
women
who
harm
others
also
inspired
my
work.
Furthermore,
I
believed
I
could
handle
the
effect
of
the
violence
on
me.
As
soon
as
I
started
to
become
burned
by
the
intensity
of
my
responses,
I
backed
away,
somewhat
like
a
bullfighter,
until
I
felt
safe
again.
Then
I
returned.
I
do
not
want
to
kill
the
bull,
however,
but
transform
it.
Not
bulls
literally—bulls
are
just
fine
as
they
are.
Sometimes
the
intensity
of
my
responses
was
horrific.
I
would
think
of
quitting,
but
I
never
did.
The
eyes
and
faces
of
hurt
children
and
women
and
men
pulled
me
back,
or
I
allowed
that
to
happen.
I
wanted
to
transform
the
bullies,
those
who
believe
they
have
the
right
to
take
what
they
want
and
use
who
they
want
for
their
own
gains,
which
could
be
sexual
and
emotional
gratification,
status,
power,
and
money,
or
anything
else
that
grab
their
fancy.
Some
of
them
were
abused
and
neglected
themselves
as
children
and
full
of
self-‐loathing
and
emotional
pain,
but
that
was
no
reason
to
hurt
other
people.
I
simply
wanted
to
contribute
to
forces
that
could
lead
to
no
more
hurting
one
another.
The
cracking
open
of
the
shell
of
my
own
self-‐hatred
and
entitlements
was
an
unexpected
bonus,
agonizing
as
it
was.
I
never
believed
I
am
good,
but
thought
I
was
a
piece
of
crap.
I
hoped
I
was
good.
I
wanted
to
be
good.
I
liked
being
in
contact
with
the
good
and
did
so
in
many
different
ways.
Deep
down,
where
I
think
the
subconscious
is,
I
always
thought
I
was
bad.
I
didn’t
do
many
bad
things
and
worked
hard
to
do
good
because
I
like
how
I
felt
when
I
do
the
good.
I
liked
going
to
church
and
listening
to
the
parables
and
stories
of
Jesus.
Cracking
open
the
shell
and
inspecting
what
was
there
took
years.
I
slowly
realized
who
I
thought
I
was
and
then
realized
that
I
had
a
distorted
sense
of
myself.
I
am
not
who
I
thought
I
was.
Slowly
for
years
and
then
suddenly,
I
realized
that
I
am
as
filled
with
a
spirit
of
goodness
that
I
saw
in
everyone
else
around
me
and
in
everything
else
practically—the
spirit
of
goodness
is
everywhere.
I
always
knew
the
spirit
of
goodness
was
there
for
everyone
else.
Goodness
was
even
beside
me,
but
not
in
me.
I
sought
the
presence
of
goodness.
I
am
in
the
process
of
experiencing
myself
as
good.
As
I
said
earlier,
this
process
has
been
so
difficult
I
hardly
have
words
for
it.
Organized
Religion
and
Faith
Organized
religion
was
a
help
and
hindrance.
My
own
religious
institution
provided
a
structure
for
me
to
experience
and
to
articulate
goodness,
but
my
religion
excluded
me
and
discounted
my
worth
including
my
right
to
reason
and
to
interpret
my
own
experiences
of
goodness
and
harm.
My
religion
didn’t
even
want
me
or
any
members
except
male
clergy
to
read
scripture.
The
men
priests
said
only
they
can
understand
and
interpret
scripture.
Since
only
men
could
be
clergy
or
have
any
leadership
role
in
my
childhood
religion,
this
religion
excluded
me,
except
as
a
supplicant.
I
didn’t
understand
many
things
about
religion
and
could
not
accept
some
of
them.
Some
religious
beliefs
make
no
sense.
They
did
not
early
in
my
life
and
they
still
do
not.
However,
today
I
experience
my
beliefs
as
based
on
faith.
Faith
itself
is
not
logical,
but
faith
is
something
felt
and
experienced
and
known
in
the
bones.
Religious
beliefs
are
fallible
because
those
who
constructed
the
beliefs
are
fallible.
Religious
beliefs
are
institutionalized
and
are
not
the
same
as
the
spiritual
beliefs
of
individuals,
especially
as
these
individual
beliefs
are
faithful
to
good
and
contribute
to
the
common
welfare.
Fallibility
and
Freedom
I’m
fallible
in
my
interpretations
of
my
spiritual
experiences.
They
are,
however,
my
experiences,
my
interpretations,
and
my
spirituality.
I
have
to
live
with
them.
I
claim
them
as
mine.
No
religion
can
tell
me
that
I
am
bad
because
I
do
not
believe
exactly
what
they
want
me
to
believe.
Religions
that
say
that
are
mistaken.
To
participate
in
goodness
means
freedom
to
be
who
we
are
in
concert
with
others
who
are
free
to
be
who
they
are.
My
freedom
stops
where
the
freedom
of
others
begins
and
so
does
yours—and
anyone
else’s,
including
the
heads
of
major
corporations
who
want
to
shape
governments
so
they
get
what
they
want
regardless
of
consequences
for
others.
Elected
officials
are
bowing
to
sociopaths
who
have
callous
disregard
for
others.
As
supplicants
to
sociopaths,
these
politicians
become
sociopaths
themselves.
Evil
feels
good.
It
hurts
others.
In
the
long
run,
it
hurts
those
who
perpetrate
it,
even
those
who
act
as
if
they
are
doing
good.
Summary
In
summary,
original
sin
is
not
original,
but
goodness
is.
Original
sin
is
a
construction
that
begins
at
birth
or
earlier
and
grows
over
time.
The
spirit
of
goodness
is
original
and
is
always
there.
It’s
there
before
we
are
born
and
it
there
after
we
die.
To
be
part
of
goodness
we
have
to
see
it
in
others,
let
it
touch
us,
and
make
space
for
it
within
ourselves.
To
do
the
latter
may
not
be
easy.
For
some,
like
me,
it
sometimes
is
harder
to
see
ourselves
as
good
than
to
keep
on
believing
we
are
wretches.
References
Gilgun,
Jane
F.
(2010).
Evil
feels
good:
Think
before
you
act.
http://www.scribd.com/doc/38489251/Evil-‐Feels-‐Good-‐Think-‐Before-‐You-‐Act
Gilgun,
Jane
F.
(2010).
Fake
accountability
and
true:
Telling
the
difference.
http://www.scribd.com/doc/38241791/Fake-‐Accountability-‐True-‐Telling-‐the-‐Difference
Gilgun,
Jane
F.
(2010).
Jesus
gets
depressed.
http://www.scribd.com/doc/40473935/Jesus-‐Gets-‐Depressed