Sin is a Cancer
By Nathan
Article reprinted with permission from CatholicStand.com.
While eating an after-mass donut, I chatted with a friend who is vastly smarter than I am. He has a doctorate in genetics and does research at the local medical university on hemophilia. He told me about cancer.
He shocked me with the fact that everyone has cancer. Cancer, at its most basic, is just a cell in the body that has stopped doing what it’s supposed to do. Normally, this isn’t a problem because the body sends immune system cells to kill the malfunctioning cells and dispose of the remains.
Cancer cells only become a problem when the immune system fails to detect and destroy them. Unfortunately, that failure is all too common and leads to a cancer diagnosis. He told me that cancers have several characteristics that make them especially difficult to tackle.
Cancer cells experience uncontrolled division. Normal cells only divide and make new copies of themselves when new copies are needed. The cells responsible for bone growth, for instance, only continue their rapid division until a growth spurt has run its course. I don’t pretend to know or understand the mechanisms that control the rate of cell division. I think it’s a field called epigenetics, which describes how genes are turned on and off. But cancer cells ignore the rules and go into a mode of constant reproduction.
Along with limitless reproduction, cells also avoid “apoptosis,” or programmed cell death. Normal cells have a lifespan at the end of which they annihilate themselves or are destroyed by the cells tasked with cleaning up the body. Cancer cells don’t do this. What’s interesting is that they somehow become invisible to the T-cells, which normally destroy non-functional cells. The cancer cells, in a sense, begin to live forever, able to produce more and more copies of their disordered, non-functional selves.
Perhaps due to their constant reproduction and longevity, the DNA in cancer cells undergoes rapid changes, which makes it very difficult to target with specific medicines. A medicine might target a specific protein on the outside of a cancer cell, and kill 99.99% of the cells in a tumor. But if even one cell mutates to the point where that target protein is not present, then it will escape the medicine. That single cell can then grow into a whole new tumor that is immune to the treatment that nearly knocked out the previous tumor.
If all of the above was not bad enough, the cells have a way of feeding themselves by a process called “angiogenesis.” Cancers send out chemical signals that cause the body to build new blood vessels that then fuel the tumor’s expansion. The blood vessels bring the nutrients needed to sustain the cancer cells, support the rapid cell division, and even spread the cells to distant parts of the body.
Non Serviam!
As we discussed these cellular disorders, I heard an echo of Satan’s, “I will not serve,” in the cells’ refusal to perform their original functions. The more I pondered my friend’s description, the more parallels I saw in this biomedical parable.
Saint Paul tells us that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). History only holds two exceptions, the Son of God and His mother. Like cancer cells, everyone has sin in their lives, whether it be doing things they shouldn’t or failing to do the things they should. This is the human condition. As a cell in the Body of Christ, I have access to resources like the sacrament of confession, which should hold those sins in check. But I don’t confess my sins as often as I should. Instead, I allow these unforgiven sins to fester and grow.
Sins, even little ones, tend to grow out of control. “It’s just a little gossip,” I might say when I pull out my phone and open up a social media app. “I’ll only look for a minute to check the headlines.” Then an hour, two hours, days vanish into the abyss of doom scrolling.
My favorite sins have a way of hiding themselves from my conscience through rationalizations. “I deserve this,” or, “No one has a right to tell me what to do with my …” In his conference on the Fear of the Lord, Saint Bonaventure explains that becoming blind to my sin is one way that God punishes me for my sin during this life. When I no longer see my sin, then I can no longer repent and seek God’s forgiveness.
It’s also amazing to see how sin can mutate and change. How many pornography addictions start with images of women wearing revealing clothing? “It’s not that bad” can swiftly mutate into “it’s not enough, I want to see more.” Every venial sin contains within it the potential of mutating into a mortal sin. Lust of the eye can bear fruit in a full-blown adulterous relationship, or worse. And even if I start to get a particular sin under control, there’s a danger that victory over one sin will lead to spiritual pride, like the disdainful Pharisee who despises the repentant tax collector.
I was particularly struck by the concept of angiogenesis, of blood vessel growth in response to the cancer’s call. Sin has a way of reordering my life to make room for more sin. Sin will change the kind of friends I cultivate, the activities I do in my spare time, the way I spend my money. I won’t even notice as the healthy relationships and activities atrophy and fall by the wayside.
Perhaps the saddest parallel I see between sin and cancer is that both grow in secret, hidden ways and are often far progressed before the warning signs are heeded. When sin has metastasized to the point that I must do something about it, I’m already surrounded by the wreckage that it has created in my life. The treatment for sin often involves a painful process of mortifying sinful desires, cutting off disordered relationships, and avoiding the near occasion of sin. Anyone who has faced recovery from addiction will affirm that, while good, this process is exceedingly difficult. Statistics and stories abound about how often sin recurs.
I’ve drawn this parable out for a very important reason. As an American, I live in a culture that denies the existence of sin and proclaims a freedom that will accept no moral limits. Sin is celebrated in its many forms and held up as virtue. It is madness.
I should instead look at the sin in my life with the sober gravity of a person who just heard the words, “I’m so sorry, it’s cancer.” More even. Jesus said, “And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.” (Matthew 10:28) Cancer might destroy the body, but it cannot destroy the soul. Sin, on the other hand, has the power to destroy our body and our communion with God with eternal consequences. is not overcrowded. There is room enough for me, should I choose to spend eternity there.
There’s a cure… for sin.
But we have reason for hope. On the cancer front, I recently heard an interview with a leading cancer researcher whose company focuses on training the body to identify and destroy the cancer cells without intense chemo or radiotherapy. While the jury is still out on the efficacy of those treatments, I know that Christ definitively won the battle against sin on the Cross. It’s why He came.
St. John Paul II wrote in Dominum et Vivificantum that one of the primary roles of the Holy Spirit is to convince us of sin. When I sin and cultivate habits of sin, I’m like the prodigal son who wallows with the pigs after squandering my inheritance. It was the Holy Spirit that came to the lost son and brought him back to his senses. The Holy Spirit will do the same for me.
One of my favorite ways to pray, especially as I prepare for the sacrament of confession, is to ask Jesus for Living Water. I pray for the Holy Spirit to open my eyes to my sin and reveal the sins that I cannot see. Quite regularly, I get an immediate sense of conviction about some sin that I had never really noticed before. The Holy Spirit brings to mind sins that He wants me to confess so that He can forgive me. God deeply desires my repentance. It is the reason for the Incarnation.
While mankind still searches for the cure for cancer, God has given us the definitive cure for sin and death. Repent. Believe the Gospel. Turn from my sin and follow HIm. It’s a cure that transforms my life today and leads me into eternal life.
Jesus snatched me out of the darkness and saved me from complete madness. If you want to hear more of that story, check out Demoniac, now available on Amazon.
