Seneca, Moral Letters 42.1

Letter 42: On values 
 
Has that friend of yours already made you believe that he is a good man? And yet it is impossible in so short a time for one either to become good or be known as such. 
 
Do you know what kind of man I now mean when I speak of "a good man"? I mean one of the second grade, like your friend. 
 
For one of the first class perhaps springs into existence, like the phoenix, only once in five hundred years. And it is not surprising, either, that greatness develops only at long intervals; Fortune often brings into being commonplace powers, which are born to please the mob; but she holds up for our approval that which is extraordinary by the very fact that she makes it rare. 
 
This man, however, of whom you spoke, is still far from the state which he professes to have reached. And if he knew what it meant to be "a good man," he would not yet believe himself such; perhaps he would even despair of his ability to become good. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 42 

 
I obviously know nothing about the man Seneca and Lucilius are discussing, and yet this letter gives me the opportunity to consider how my choice in friends reflects my choice about values. 
 
We are quick to condemn others as “bad” when they don’t do what we prefer, but we are also quick to praise others as “good” when they gratify us, even just once. A hasty judgement can bring nothing but grief; immediate pleasure and pain are not the be-all and the end-all. 
 
While I do know there is a difference between right and wrong, I am hesitant to label people as being right or wrong. Just as I refuse to say a man is damned to hell because he has committed this or that evil, I am equally wary of any man who claims he is a glorified saint. Do not confuse righteousness with self-righteousness. 
 
As Solzhenitsyn said, there is no convenient line to separate good from evil, for it passes through every human heart. Hate the sin, but love the sinner. 
 
Now what I am to do about the fellow who insists he is a paragon of virtue, and promises he will always have my back?
 
First, I should worry about how quickly he arrives at his confidence. 
 
Second, I should question his bravado, for bragging is a surefire sign of duplicity. 
 
As with all human qualities, character admits of degrees. 
 
There is the ideal sage, and while I have yet to personally meet one, this is the rare and precious end for which we were all created. 
 
Then there is the fighter, the one who is struggling to improve himself, who feels as if he is taking one step forward for every two steps back. 
 
The man who is truly good, or is at least endeavoring to become good, would never say he is good, because he knows about the fluidity of who he is, and he knows quite well how his goal has not yet been achieved. Once he brags, he violates his integrity. 
 
The man who says he is good is a pretender. The only way I manage to stay afloat is to become painfully aware of my many miserable failures. 
 
And when it comes to friends? Avoid the seducers, the players, the charlatans, the demagogues, the salesmen. They will say what they think you want to hear, not what you need to hear. 
 
I wasted too many years in love with a woman who had class without a conscience. 
 
I wasted too many years in a trade where image mattered more than substance. 
 
I wasted too many years in a faith where posing about God was confused with kneeling before God. 
 
No more of that. 

—Reflection written in 1/2013 

IMAGE: Peter Candid, Humility (c. 1580)