Confusing good intent with creating equality

By Ryan Amante

Nothing was more satisfying than building a house for a family that really needed it.

Be that as it may, I'm still not sure how I really helped.

The idea of "social sin" has been around for centuries, but it appears to have gained more popularity in the last two decades.

My short definition of social sin is either the failure to recognize or the failure to act against every inequality created by every human social structure, be it an ideal, a community or a conglomeration of people.

The presence of poverty is apparently proof of the existence of social sin, as is any other tangible reminder of human inequality.

This spring break, I was a proud participant in the 2008 Tijuana immersion trip. We drove for nine hours until we reached San Diego, spent a night on the floor of a church near the border and then crossed the border into the campsite the next day.

We started laying the foundation for the house on Easter Sunday, and we didn't complete the project until late Tuesday afternoon. The entire time, we were "living simply" -- we slept in tents, we cooked our own dinners (imagine that), and our lunches consisted of a single peanut butter and jelly sandwich per person.

Oh, and I forgot to mention the fact that none of us took showers for about five days.

So, by the time we arrived back in Santa Clara, we were all feeling proud of ourselves.

After all, we managed to build a house with our bare hands (no power tools) in fewer than three days. And we built it for a family that was truly grateful.

Strangely, I don't feel like I helped humanity at all.

It's a little confusing, but perhaps I'll be able to lay the idea of social sin out more clearly.

We perform an act of social sin if we do not show compassion or sympathy for our fellow men and women and use our own abilities and advantages in order to alleviate his or her suffering.

That's supposed to include feeding the poor, striving for justice, etc.

But can we really ever regain equality with mere compassion?

I helped build a house. The family we built it for will live in it for several years. Maybe it will stand up for a while.

Eventually, though, that house is going to crumble. The foundation will crack, the frames will rot, and the roof will start to leak.

And that family will be left in the state they were in before we arrived, with nothing remaining of our compassion but a few rotting beams, a concrete foundation and scraps of tar paper.

Did I really do anything for them?

I provided a few temporary creature comforts, at the expense of my own luxuries, for a few years. Ultimately, I helped no one.

Humanity is no closer to a state of equality.

All I have are a few memories of making a family happy for a few brief moments as salve for my damned soul.

The idea of social sin irritates me. It seems to rely upon intention more than anything else.

If intent could save the world, I'm sure it would have been saved trillions of times over.

Ryan Amante is a sophomore marketing major.