August 10 — Purposeless evil

“Senseless acts.” “Mindless evil.” I wonder if we really understand what we’re saying when we condemn the acts of terrorists and shooters and serial killers.

We struggle to place these deeds in our moral universe, to find a way to make sense of them, but after a perverted spell of my own I wonder: are the dark acts concocted in our hearts any less senseless and vile? When my hands move to violate beauty and dignity, what can I say in response? Can anything be redeemed from that? Are those acts twisted out and then bent back into shape for good? Are they necessary for the good to prevail? Or are they truly pointless and senseless? Is what I did this morning nothing more than a void, the absence of God?

Isn’t that what’s so bad about sin, after all? That it serves no purpose at all? That it is the place where God isn’t acting? That it truly is vanity? That’s how it seems to me right now. I can’t conceive of a purpose for this vain thing I’ve done. I’ve carved out a slice from the timeline of my life, taken a chunk out of the vitality of my soul, and cast it into the abyss.