83. Worldliness and the Desire to Seem Normal

"And be not conformed to this world; but be reformed in the newness of your mind." - Romans 12:2

Worldliness is not only love of wealth, fashion, or pleasure. It is also the habit of taking the world's standards of normalcy as morally authoritative. A person begins to ask not whether something is true, fitting, or holy, but whether it appears acceptable, balanced, and socially ordinary by the judgment of the age.

This is one of the most powerful pressures on Catholics now. Many do not want to be openly wicked. They only want to seem normal.

Once normalcy becomes a standard, many other compromises follow. Dress is softened toward fashion. Speech is softened toward approval. Convictions are softened toward what others can tolerate. Family customs are adjusted to avoid appearing excessive, strange, or old.

The soul then begins to live by social measure rather than by truth. This is worldliness in a refined form.

There is a lawful desire not to be theatrical or eccentric. But the desire to blend in can become spiritually dangerous when it trains the soul to hide whatever makes Christian life distinct. Over time, the person grows embarrassed by reverence, modesty, discipline, visible devotion, ordered family life, and firm doctrine.

He does not always reject these things outright. He simply wants them reduced to a size that no longer troubles the surrounding world.

The present crisis is full of this reduction. Catholics want to be serious, but not too serious. Traditional, but not noticeably so. Devout, but not enough to invite questions. Moral, but not enough to disturb common habits. Distinct, but only within limits defined by the culture.

This desire to remain normal explains many forms of compromise:

• silence about corruption;
• softened modesty;
• diluted witness;
• fear of visible Catholic custom;
• and reluctance to let family life appear governed by something higher than convenience.

What makes this vice difficult is that it often appears moderate, reasonable, and socially mature. It does not look like rebellion. It looks like proportion. But proportion measured by a disordered world is not virtue. It is conformity under another name.

A Catholic must therefore ask not only whether he avoids scandalous worldliness, but whether he quietly takes the world as his measure.

Catholics should therefore examine:

• what do I hide because I want to seem ordinary?
• what visible Catholic habits have I reduced for the sake of ease?
• where do I accept the world's standard of what is "too much"?
• do I want holiness, or only a version of it that attracts minimal attention?

The answer is not theatrical difference. It is freedom from needing the world to certify one's balance.

Worldliness and the desire to seem normal corrupt the soul by making social acceptability into a hidden rule. The Christian is not called to be bizarre, but neither is he called to shrink fidelity until the world finds it unthreatening.

The measure must remain Christ, not cultural comfort. Where that measure is kept, the soul may become visibly distinct. That is not failure. It is often the beginning of honesty.