Let it be shouted from the rooftops, coast to coast, in this age of grave pessimism and cruelty and the despair of modern man, that the authentic Christian view of the human being is bright, positive, hopeful, optimistic, good. That is why the 19th-century priest, St. John of Kronstadt, can say:

Never confuse the person formed in the image of God with the evil that is in him, because evil is but a chance misfortune, an illness, a devilish revelry; but the very essence of the person is the image of God, and this remains in him, despite every disfigurement.

Have you ever had a vacation that ended in disaster? Few crises are as upsetting. All that money, all that time, all that hopefulness down the drain. Presumably, all 616 passengers aboard the cruise ship leaving Galveston, Texas, were there to enjoy a sail around the rich blue seas of the Western Caribbean. They came from all over: different backgrounds, different ages, different stations in life, but united by a desire for some rest and relaxation. On day two of a four-day cruise, however, the on-board doctor’s office began receiving a disturbing number of calls involving violent sickness. Medical staff were constantly walking or jogging the long hallways of the massive ship, entering and exiting cabins as they tended to the same kinds of symptoms: stomach cramping, headache, vomiting, sweats.

One reason why vacationers choose ocean cruises is for their abundant food. What happens, however, if some of that food is bad—not bad in taste, but bad in condition? Abundant food poisoning. Medical staff traced these several hundred cases of violent food poisoning to a wayward buffet in one of the dining rooms. Few crises are as upsetting as a vacation that ends in disaster.

I am grateful to my good friend, Fr. Stephen, for this metaphor. Imagine sin as a kind of big pie with many slices. In the book of Romans, the Apostle Paul says, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. All have sinned.” This means that every person alive has been given and has eaten a slice of this sin-pie. You have your slice; I have my slice—or more. This sin-pie has seven basic ingredients, seven root passions of pride, lust, anger, greed, envy, gluttony, sloth. For some of us, our slice of the sin-pie is heavier on a few of those ingredients than other people’s slices. Maybe we struggle with pride more than others, while their slices are heavier in some ingredients than ours. Maybe they struggle with sloth more than others.

Who has what is not as important as: We all have something. “There is no man who liveth and sinneth not,” as we say in the Orthodox funeral service. These seven basic ingredients—pride, lust, anger, greed, envy, gluttony, sloth—these seven root passions work their way through us and come out of us in all manner of bad thoughts, words, deeds, habits, and behaviors. They make up the irritating stuff that we notice in other people and that other people notice in us. The irritating stuff is what we all have in common, because all have eaten of the sin-pie and fallen short of the glory of God.

“But,” someone might object, “my sinful days are in the past. I’m saved now.” Yet we learn from the book of 1 John that if we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. This means that sin is a rebellion, a willfulness that is always simmering within us. But my sins are few!” Yet we learn in the book of James that whoever keeps the whole law yet breaks a single point of it is guilty of breaking all of it. This means that any quantity of rebellion or willfulness in our lives carries with it a sentence of death and separation from the kingdom of heaven. “But my sins are personal and private!” Yet we learn in the book of Luke that there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open. This means that there is no such thing as a private sin.

No one can hide from the light of holy Scripture. Notice how Scripture does us a great service? It keeps us from lying to ourselves. It keeps us in the truth, where all healing begins. So, all together, with hats in hand, we lower our faces to the ground before our holy God, and each of us holds up our slice of the sin-pie. We join our voices to that early morning prayer of the Church and make it our own:

Have mercy on us, O God; have mercy on us. For, laying aside all defense, we sinners offer unto thee as Master this supplication: Have mercy on us.

Why do we lay aside all defense, all excuse, all self-justification? Because we don’t have to convince God that we’re not as bad as the next guy. All have eaten of the sin-pie and fallen short of the glory of God.

Back to the cruise ship. Imagine if one passenger with food poisoning—sweaty, aching, pathetic, covered in his own vomit—begins to criticize or look down on another passenger for having food poisoning. Imagine if a sick passenger in the infirmary raises her drenched, aching head just enough to feel superior to the passenger lying next to her for having a drenched, aching head. Imagine if a sick family rallies just enough to gossip about or shame another family for being sick. Can you feel the ridiculousness?

Here is forgiveness: One hurting person extending mercy to another hurting person. One broken person extending mercy to another broken person. One sick puppy extending mercy to another sick puppy. The Church is called the ark of salvation. We board this ark, hoping together for safe passage through the floods and storms of life. As passengers on the ark, we sin against each other, but only because we’ve all eaten from that same bad buffet of rebellion and willfulness. I, with slice in hand, sin against you, with slice in hand. We hurt together, so we need healing together. We got in this mess together, so we’ll get out of it together. We rise to challenges together. We rejoice with those who rejoice. We weep with those who weep.

From the Gospel according to St. Matthew: “The Lord said to his disciples, ‘If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you.’ ” When we are in touch with our own poverty before God, our own need for forgiveness, we become better friends, better helpers, better forgivers. I am most in need of mercy. Therefore, I have only mercy to give.