by MT Cozzola

Did you know that when early church leaders decided on the seven deadly sins—the sins that had to be confessed publicly as opposed to the ones you could say privately to a priest—that they sometimes included an EIGHTH?

These leaders were fierce to set Christianity apart from other religions of the time, because I forget why but there was some scuttlebutt that Christianity was a bit soft or wanton around the edges, so they came up with this idea of public confession, which also required public penance.

You'd have to kneel outside the church wearing sackcloth and ashes (I don’t know how you wear ashes but this is what I read) while everyone else was inside at Mass wearing normal clothes, so you could feel properly left OUT and they could feel properly left IN. And other folks in town who followed Wöden and other popular faiths would see that Christians could do public humiliation just fine. Not so soft at all!

But the exciting part is that when they came up with the sins that would merit this public humiliation—lust, wrath, gluttony, and so on—some churches didn’t just have seven. Some included an eighth sin: Dejection.

Depending on where you lived and which church you attended, dejection was RIGHT UP THERE with coveting your neighbor's husband or murdering your neighbor’s husband. 

I find this miraculous.

How would the sin of dejection even express itself, enough to put someone on their knees outside the church while everyone else is inside enjoying Holy Communion? And how would they catch you for it?

There's no dead body.

No stolen sheep under your arm.

No kiss or coupling to get caught in the middle of.

Maybe it’s a vacant frown. You know the one I mean—no angry glare or deep scowl, could even be neutral mouth. But you can tell it by the eyes. No spirit in there, no hope or curiosity or even fear of being discovered. Just a sense, if there can be such a thing, of recent departure.

People, this was a sin so prevalent that they had a WHOLE SYSTEM OF HUMILIATION for it!

Dejection was no all-powerful force that fell like a shadow across the sunniest day. No enveloping fog that you could not describe and had no energy to anyway—no. It was simply a crime, like stealing a bracelet.

It could be felt but not entertained, like lust or greed.

It could be purged, if you could figure out how to wear ashes.

On the days when my compass has left, and I wake in a state of lostness there are no words for, I now picture a little committee of priests in some medieval village saying, "Yes, in this parish, dejection is a no-good very-bad sin that we cannot tolerate, not on our watch."

Everyone in that church, glancing occasionally out the door at Joe, on his knees, covered in ashes (I looked it up and you put on the sackcloth and then smear ashes on the cloth), because he gave in to dejection and maybe didn’t plow his field or say hi back when greeted in the village square, yes they’re shutting him out, but they are ALSO giving him a show of support. They are saying, we know the feeling and it terrifies us.

We're fighting it, Joe. And you can too.