The Misfortune of Being Good

"Yes.  I had the misfortune to be born good.  And it is a misfortune, I can tell you, General.  I really am truthful and unselfish and all the rest of it; and it's nothing but cowardice; want of character; want of being really, strongly, positively oneself."

-the Strange Lady, "Man of Destiny" by George Bernard Shaw

When I first read this quotation it struck me by its paradoxical nature.  (Of course it also struck me rather personally, but that's another can of worms.)

As I continue to reflect upon these words, I marvel at how beautifully Shaw broke apart the culture of niceness in these few phrases.  For in our modern society we tend to think of qualities such as niceness and tolerance as being admirable.  Often we look at those quiet and pious by temperament as being advanced in holiness.

Yet I daresay Saint Paul would object strongly to such folly.  After all, he had to struggle mightily to live a virtuous life and even be knocked off his horse (literally enough) because he was going the wrong direction.  He was not afraid to stand up to Saint Peter and tell him he was wrong, nor did he have any trouble calling out those not following the right path.  And if you read his writings, there's the boasting....  In short, he was quite positively and unashamedly himself.  So I don't think he fits that mode of niceness in the least.

Now you might wonder how there could possibly be misfortune in being by nature good, or being a nice person, especially if you happen to be someone who struggles with temptations on a grander scale.  I will tell you.

First let me offer you an analogy: imagine that you are a long-distance runner and that running comes easily to you so that you win each race and never have to do much training while those around you must spend hours every day trying to get their bodies into shape and still never quite measure up.  Now imagine you injure yourself so that you are no longer able to run with such ease.  That handicap weighs down on your spirits and you lose race after race.  Soon you fall into depression because you cannot face the seemingly-insurmountable difficulties.  You give up on running and try to pursue another course, but to no avail.  Everywhere you meet failure.  On the other hand, one of your fellow runners who had to struggle so hard and had to deal with natural handicaps to his speed now outstrips everyone else because he has put so much into his training.  If you put as much into as he did you might take the lead again, but why would you when it came easily before?

Now obviously the competitive nature of this analogy does not carry across into the evaluation of the nice person.  However, the main thrust remains the same: if you do not have to strive hard after virtue and you suddenly come face to face with a difficult situation or great temptation, what will keep you from giving in?

Thus being by nature inclined toward what is good can prevent one from developing true goodness, the goodness that comes of virtue hard won by the grace of God.  Natural goodness may be no more than weakness, a fear of offending others, a fear of being seen as less than perfect.  This pseudo-virtue that stems from pride is the mask of a coward not a saint.  Niceness may yet bear fruit, but only through the same fire of purification that burns away the dross from the silver of those who seek God in all the messiness of their disagreeableness.

May you run, as Saint Paul says, to win a crown that will not fade!