
The Nature of Evil
Evil is, at its root, a metaphysical rupture, a tearing of the soul away from love, away from the divine image that gives each person infinite worth.
REFLECTIONSCULTURE WARCULTUREBEAUTY & ORDEREMPIRE & COLLAPSE
Custos Fidei
10/22/20254 min read



The Nature of Evil
There are few words that human beings use as carelessly as evil. We fling it at politicians, corporations, or anyone who cuts us off in traffic, but rarely pause to ask what the word means. Yet to understand evil is to begin to understand the world, and perhaps to understand why every civilization that forgets God eventually begins to devour itself.
Evil is not simply bad behavior. It is not a matter of violating etiquette or failing to meet the standards of polite society. Evil is, at its root, a metaphysical rupture, a tearing of the soul away from love, away from the divine image that gives each person infinite worth. Every human being bears the imago Dei, the reflection of God Himself. To sin against another is to deny that reflection, to treat the living icon before us as though it were disposable.
The murderer destroys more than a body. He attempts to erase an interior world, a mind filled with thoughts and memories, a soul capable of creativity and prayer. Even lesser cruelties participate in this same darkness. Gossip, betrayal, envy, all are smaller ways of denying the light in another person. When we cease to see others as beloved by God, we drift into the cold isolation that Scripture calls death. Hell, in this life or the next, is nothing more than the absence of love.
Spiritual Forces and Ideology
Evil does not always announce itself with fangs and sulfur. More often, it wears the face of an idea. The ancient words of Saint Paul remind us that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” The battle is not fought with swords but with convictions, philosophies, and lies that take root in the heart.
Ideologies can possess whole nations as surely as demons once tormented individuals. They whisper that truth is subjective, that man is merely an animal, that power defines right. Once those ideas are enthroned, ordinary men become instruments of destruction while believing themselves virtuous. In every century, the massacre, the purge, and the propaganda campaign begin with a theory that denies the divine worth of the human soul.
~In every century, the massacre, the purge, and the propaganda campaign begin with a theory that denies the divine worth of the human soul.~
The Catholic mind understands that ideas are never neutral. Every worldview either moves us toward God or away from Him. Every culture is a moral battlefield. And while the weapons are words, the casualties are always human lives.
Ordered Liberty and the Biblical Foundation
True liberty is not the freedom to do whatever one wishes; it is the freedom to do what is right. This understanding of liberty, ordered, moral, and bound by conscience, was not discovered by chance. It arose from the long labor of the Christian West, which fused biblical revelation with reason. Our notions of human dignity, justice, and rights did not appear in a vacuum. They were born from the conviction that man is made in God’s image and accountable to Him.
When a culture divorces its moral law from this divine root, it does not become freer; it becomes incoherent. The attempt to build morality without God resembles trying to hang a painting in midair after tearing down the wall. The words “justice,” “equality,” and “rights” lose their meaning once they are no longer anchored in the Creator who endows them.
The Enlightenment, for all its brilliance, still stood upon the shoulders of Christianity. Its highest ideals borrowed their strength from Scripture’s moral universe. Remove that foundation, and liberty becomes license, order without meaning, progress without direction.
The Limits and Dangers of Moral Relativism
Modern man, intoxicated by comfort and technology, believes he has outgrown truth. He speaks of “your truth” and “my truth” as though reality were a buffet. In such a world, martyrdom becomes nonsense. Why would anyone die for Christ if all religions are equally valid paths to the same vague heaven? Why should one defend any principle when every principle is said to be subjective?
A society built on relativism cannot sustain virtue. It can manage manners, perhaps, a public smile, a charitable hashtag, but not holiness. The moral relativist values niceness over goodness, sensitivity over justice. Yet compassion without truth quickly decays into sentimentality. Real charity demands that we tell the truth even when it offends. Mercy without repentance is not mercy but apathy dressed in kind words.
When a civilization replaces objective moral order with mood, it drifts toward chaos. The weak suffer first, and the strong call it progress. The Catholic heart must resist this drift, not with rage, but with clarity. We must remember that goodness is not invented by consensus, but received from God.
Toward Moral Clarity
Evil begins in a failure to love, and it thrives in the confusion of half-truths. The task of the Christian is to see again, to see the divine image in the neighbor, the sacred order in creation, and the eternal consequences in every act of the will.
The world will always mock such seriousness. It will call fidelity fanaticism and conviction intolerance. So be it. The saints did not die for comfort. They died because they refused to call darkness light.
In the end, every age must decide whether it believes man is a child of God or an accident of atoms. The first belief builds cathedrals; the second builds camps. Choose carefully.

