Self-acceptance can healthily lead us to a realistic appraisal of who we are, and reveal what is and is not changeable within us.

That means that we might reduce by at least one person—ourself—the number of judgmental and resentful Christians, which is surely a worthy goal!

It also denotes wholeness, or whole-mindedness, because our goal not to further fragment ourselves (“here’s my good self, here’s my bad self”) but to be whole persons. It is this whole person—and not some kind of pious created persona—who presents himself before God in prayer.

By focusing on the spirit as much as on the letter of the law, his commandments become part of a whole way of life, informed foremost by love.

If we preserve, as we should, that purity of heart, the watch and guard of the intellect . . . this will not only uproot all passions and evils from our hearts; it will also introduce joy, hopefulness, compunction, sorrow, tears, an understanding of ourselves and of our sins, mindfulness of death, true humility, unlimited love of God and man, and

Reinhold Niebuhr famously remarked, “Original sin is the only empirically verifiable doctrine of the Christian faith.”

During the Canon of Repentance3 we pray “Give me understanding, O Lord, that I may weep bitterly over my deeds.” The reason we want this understanding so much that we pray for it, is that it constitutes true perception of reality. That perception brings inner freedom, compassion, and the freedom from judging others.

“I am a sinner” means that you have lost command of yourself and you on your own cannot regain it. You must submit to God, who is in control. Understood this way, saying “I am a sinner” means, “God, your will be done.” Lastly, Webber writes, “The title ‘alcoholic’ is worn as a badge of honor, and it gives the bearer a sense of belonging in a group

Seraphim of Sarov, who lived at the turn of the 19th century, observed, “We condemn others only because we shun knowing ourselves.”