In 1962 we lived in a small military housing project in St. Louis. Four families lived in tiny apartments, side by side. Next to us was the Daugherty family. Like many in the neighborhood, they were Roman Catholic. REAL Roman Catholics. They went to church all the time and it was in Latin. They ate fish on Friday and went to confession. They used small prayer cards of saints during devotions. And they had something like ten children on triple bunks.
I have never forgotten what one of them taught me. According to his mom, when we sin, our heart gets a black spot on it. The more we sin, the blacker our heart gets. This was not a symbol or a metaphor – she meant literal black spots. They would show up on X-rays so the whole world would know. When you are in first grade, anything seems plausible.
As a Presbyterian first grader, I wasn’t sure if only Catholics got this black heart, or if all of us did. I was worried. So I asked my mom. She assured me it only happened to Catholics.
After 48 years’ experience on this earth, I am not so sure….