“Whenever a friend succeeds, a little something in me dies.”  This statement, made by the famously witty and acid-tongued writer Gore Vidal, gives expression to the vice called envy, classically listed among the seven deadly sins.

Vidal’s unlovely sentiment would not draw our attention if it did not carry with it at least some little truth. When we examine our hearts, we can all feel some temptation to begrudge other people their success. That temptation is something that I have felt many times and, frankly, given in to more often than I like to admit.

I remember once feeling very nervous about approaching a colleague, several years younger than I, who had already established a reputation for his writing. His published poems and short stories had won him an acclaim that made me envious. Talking with him made me feel ill at ease because I recognized in him a talent much  superior to my own.

The passage of years has worn away my tendency to feel envious of those who have scored notable successes. Though I still feel the temptation on occasion, by and large I now embrace the achievements of other people and even enjoy sharing in their good fortune.

This change of attitude, I like to think, has happened because of growing appreciation of a spiritual reality. That reality is the vital connection that each of us has with one another. As I grow older, I have turned my back on individualistic achievement and come to treasure the bonds that tie us all together as brothers and sisters, children of the same God.

I feel this way most of all during Sunday worship. There, other members of the community and I are joined together in recognition of God. “We give you thanks for your great glory,” we pray in unison. And we pay attention to our oneness as we exchange the embrace or handshake and say to your neighbor, “Peace be with you.”

So, instead of envying the fellow near me whom I recognize as the author of an article on spirituality that has just appeared in a national magazine, I congratulate him on his success. No matter that I would like to have written that article myself. That he has done so I recognize as an achievement that I share in too because the author is part of my spiritual community.

Each one of us is a gifted person. We have received talents that enable us to make our way in the world. However, those gifts, as I  have come to see more clearly than when I was younger, are also intended by God for us to serve one another. That other people have so much to offer is not a threat to me, but rather an advantage.

With this changed outlook, I can survey the people in my worshipping community and rejoice in their spiritual gifts. I recognize fellow parishioners who have dedicated their lives to serving the poor. Others who spend their time educating disadvantaged children come into my line of vision. And I spot yet other men and women whose artistic creativity brings much value to the larger community.

I also recognize and appreciate the physical beauty and graceful personality of others, younger and older. Some people among us clearly have the gift of making us feel accepted and valued as persons. I admire the resilience of my companions who have shown patience and courage in putting up with the physical insults connected with  old age and the unexpected  illnesses that surprise the young.

All of these gifts have a spiritual dimension and go to make the community a force for good. The diversity of the gifts attests to the prodigal impulse of the creator who has given them for the benefit of all.

As a person prone to relapse, I may well slip back into my old habits of envying the achievements of others. After all, there is something typically American about seeing ourselves as in competition with everyone else. But I now realize more clearly than before how false this approach to life truly is. Instead, we can allow spirituality to teach us how the talents of others in our community do not diminish us but widen our lives.

Richard Griffin