Enough! It seems such a simple word, but it can be powerful. Used in self-defense, it can stop us from over-indulging, as when we find ourselves drawn back to a heavy-laden buffet; or being over-served, as by an indulgent grandma, aunt, or barkeep. Used for governance, it can announce that the threshold has been reached beyond which penalties will be imposed, such as to a carload of rowdy children. But also, and often, it is the word of condemnation.
Some people use it to condemn themselves. I do not pray enough, they say in confession. I do not love my children enough, or I am not patient enough with my kids, they say. They grieve their shortfall.
I ask you, though, what I often will ask them: Who does pray enough? How much prayer is enough? Only Jesus and the Blessed Virgin Mary. Who does love enough? Who is patient enough? Again, only God and His sinless mother manage that; this is why we are so attached to them. With quantity impossible to set, as for prayer, or love, or patience, the accusation of not enough is guaranteed to condemn.
If this is how we accuse ourselves, then we damn ourselves to continual misery, since we are in fact constitutionally incapable of loving God, our neighbor, or even our spouses or children enough. We are all wounded by Original Sin, which leaves as its scar a large streak of selfishness and limitation. Nonetheless, we can be aware of our insufficiency, and grieve.
It is different when we fail in a specific, discrete act that CAN be counted. In such cases, to use the word is a deception, for example to say, I don’t go to Mass enough. Our obligation is clear to attend Mass every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation, unless impeded by specific circumstances like sickness. More accurate, and more honest, would be to confess: I missed Mass last week for no good reason; or, I forgot about the Holy Day last month; or, I haven’t been to Mass for seven years, except when my mom came to visit. The hidden benefit of such quantitative honesty is that having named our specific shortfall, we can identify and achieve the necessary and specific remedy.
The obverse type of obfuscation would be, I lied too much. How much is the right amount (enough, but not too much) of lying? Zero! So, I lied several times, is a more honest self-analysis, and an error we can amend, with the help of God.
Our culture has lost sight of the reality of Original Sin, and thus the universal insufficiency that characterizes the human race. The scientific and technological models of predictability and tolerances has been thrust onto human beings, and our laws and our society frequently and freely pronounce judgment on whether someone did enough. This ambient attitude can hobble us in our mission to grow in grace and virtue.
It can also damage or destroy the very fabric of our community and society. If of ourselves no human being can ever do enough, then we are always vulnerable to accusations of insufficiency. If someone is injured on your property, then you obviously failed to do enough to prevent it. According to our legal system, that makes you liable. If terrorists fly an airplane into the World Trade Center, clearly someone failed to do enough to prevent it. But who failed? The government? The airlines? The architects? According to our norms, we must find out, so liability can be assessed, penalty imposed, and money flow.
Remembering in honesty our creaturely weakness, we know we never can or will do enough. I cannot do enough to prevent an elderly Mass-goer from falling and being injured approaching our church, though I pray that no one be injured that way. Any time you read an article declaring that someone did not do enough – to prevent an injury, or death; to solve a problem, or make something fair; to avoid injustice, or thwart evil – say a prayer for that person as you recognize, there but for the grace of God go I! For from this analysis there is neither defense nor reprieve.
All power lies with those who publish and accuse people’s insufficiencies. Whoever admits to having not done enough is already condemned. In our persistent insufficiency, all that remains for us to hope is that we not be found out. Yet before God, we know that hope is vain.
Moved by this awareness, we must admit: I do not do enough. I stand condemned. And yet. This day the Son of God handed Himself over to be crucified, in fulfillment of His Father’s will. He handed over His spirit, and said, It is finished. It is consummated. It is accomplished. This, and this alone, is sufficient.
I am redeemed; it is enough.
Monsignor Smith
