The problem of good

I love being told that I'm a good person. Especially when it's by a complete stranger.
My first thought is always, "How did he know that? I guess it's just that obvious."
This starts in my head a short animated film of my life in which I'm doing such good things as smiling at strangers, giving alms to the poor, teaching orphans oragami, and protecting endangered animals. Okay, my Disney autobiography might have taken a little dramatic license, but I do smile at strangers, and I did accidentally give money to a French bum this year (it turns out he was only asking for a cigarette, but he was scary and smelled funny, so I figured a little change would make him leave me alone. It worked.)

Long story short, good intuition total stranger, I am a good person.

Then the cynicism starts.
Is it possible that this man doesn't intuitively know about my inherent goodness and just attributes it to everyone?
This makes me feel slightly less flattered.
I mean come on. What good is being good if everyone else is good? That would make me have to work even harder to appear good, even just on a relative scale. That's not good.

Then the real questions start.
"How do you know I'm not Hitler? Given that you don't know me at all, how can you be sure that I couldn't make Hussein look like Mr. Rogers? Do you have any clue who I am? Have you ever seen my heart? Have you seen the pride, the adultery, the murder that call my heart home? Are you taking into account that I'm a thief, a racist, a liar, a hypocrite, a malicious gossip, and an all-around hateful person? Oh yeah, and I hate God! And you still think I'm a good person!?"

I'll take this time for a small disclaimer. The me that I described in the last paragraph is currently being killed. Thanks be to God.

This however is beside the point for the purposes of this post. The point is, people, pastors even, as I found out recently, actually think that other people are basically good. I blame the French for this. I think Rousseau wrote in "The Social Contract" that people are basically good, and if society treats them just right, they will always be good to each other. I think it's that book where he says it, anyway. The only thing I've ever read by him was the excerpt of his autobiography where he lies to save his own skin and drives a young girl who had never harmed him into a life of poverty and prostitution. Good guy, that Rousseau. But look who's talking. See above.

I of all people shouldn't be pointing fingers. I'm just so darn good at it, though. Until 2 years ago (almost exactly), I was completely on board with Rousseau, Voltaire, that pastor that annoyed me enough to write this post, "Touched by an Angel", the card companies, and all the other "people are good" freaks. (Please believe that I'm saying "freaks" in the most loving way imaginable with hopes for a humorous effect). What happened 2 years ago to change my mind? The religion department at Wright State happened - specifically the classes "Holocaust and Film" and "The Problem of Evil". Spring quarter of 2003 was the most emotionally heavy quarter of my life. I could not read testimonies of Holocaust survirors, watch interviews of former Nazis, or read horror stories of men and women that torture children and all the while keep a sunny view of the nature of humans. Only a lunatic could.

It gets worse. Once you study evil people for a while (the people everyone thinks are evil - Hitler, Bin Laden, etc.) , you start to question what makes you different from them. The answer, the only real answer, is chilling. Very little. That's all I could come up with.
Sure, I've never actually engineered the deaths of millions of people that weren't particularly harming me, but is that because I'm a better person than Adolph? Or is it more likely because I was raised in the richest, most comfortable country in the history of the world, where it is socially unacceptable to racially discriminate? I wish I could point a finger at Hitler! Unfortunately, I have no ground to stand on. In his shoes, I may have killed more; I may have taken even more twisted joy out of it than he ever dreamed. I'll never know, thanks be to God.

My point, my point...it's buried in here somewhere. It must go something like this - If I am good, I am bitterly disappointed in good. If I ever convince myself that I'm good, I have no hope, no reason to smile or laugh again. If I am good, if this is good, I want nothing to do with good.

In short, it's not good for us to be deluded into thinking we're good. Not only would our goodness completely eliminate the need for a Savior, but it robs us of hope of anything ever being better. Thank God for His goodness, the only goodness that has ever really been good.