Why Catholics Talk About Sin: A Deeper Look at Love, Mercy, and the Gospel
Spencer Wozniak
Religion | June 19, 2025
Is Catholicism Too Focused on Sin?
Recently, I was speaking with a non-denominational friend who said something that I’ve heard echoed countless times: “Catholics are always talking about sin. Everything’s a sin to you guys. Isn’t Christianity supposed to be about love, not guilt?”
I get it. From the outside looking in, the Catholic faith can appear preoccupied with rules and guilty consciences. And at first glance, it sounds like a valid critique. After all, the Gospel is good news. Isn’t it about God’s love and forgiveness rather than shame and guilt? Wouldn’t focusing so heavily on sin distort the message?
Yes—But Only If You Miss the Point
Here’s the thing: the very reason the Catholic Church speaks so seriously about sin is precisely because it takes God’s love so seriously. The Church sees sin not as a list of divine pet peeves, but as the very thing that wounds us and separates us from the God who made us for love. To speak about sin is not to move away from the Gospel—it is to begin to understand the depth of the Gospel.
This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.
— 1 John 4:10 (NIV)
The Gospel is not the story of a God who affirms us as we are, but who loves us too much to leave us this way. The Catholic view of sin is not guilt for guilt’s sake—it’s clarity. Until we understand how lost we are, we cannot begin to understand what it means to be found. Indeed:
If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.
— 1 John 1:8 (NIV)
Understanding the Depth of Our Need
Nobody likes to be told they’re a sinner. We like to think of ourselves as “good” people. But at the same time, we love to blame others—our parents, the world, anyone but ourselves. It's easy to spot their flaws. But if we see sin so clearly in others, why are we blind to it in ourselves?
The Bible reminds us:
All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags.— Isaiah 64:6a (NIV)
In another reflection, I wrote about how I prayed for humility and God answered not with comfort, but conviction. He told me: You know what you really deserve? Wrath. It wasn’t condemnation—it was grace that cut through my self-deception. Because in seeing myself rightly, I could see Him rightly.
It isn't about shame. It's about truth. The truth that, left to ourselves, we fall desperately short of the holiness for which we were created. And yet this is what makes the Gospel so incomprehensibly beautiful: Christ didn’t come for the righteous. He came for sinners. He came for us.
Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”
— Luke 5:31-32 (NIV)
The Purpose of Catholic Guilt
So what is “Catholic guilt” anyway? It’s a sacramental awareness of reality. It’s the ache of the soul that has glimpsed the love of God and realized how unworthy it is.
For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight;
so you are right in your verdict
and justified when you judge.— Psalm 51:3-4 (NIV)
In fact, the Church explains this very dynamic:
The human heart is heavy and hardened. God must give man a new heart ... It is in discovering the greatness of God's love that our heart is shaken by the horror and weight of sin and begins to fear offending God by sin and being separated from him. The human heart is converted by looking upon him whom our sins have pierced:
Let us fix our eyes on Christ's blood and understand how precious it is to his Father, for, poured out for our salvation it has brought to the whole world the grace of repentance.
— Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 1432
We confess sin because we trust in mercy. We name our brokenness because we believe it can be healed. And nowhere is this healing more powerfully experienced than in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.
Confession: Encountering Love Through Truth
I’ve felt it. The crushing weight of my pride. The fear of being truly seen. The shame of not being the person I pretend to be. But it was in the confessional that I experienced Christ’s love most deeply. Critics may see it as a guilt-inducing ritual, but in truth, it’s the most liberating thing I’ve ever done. You walk in burdened. You walk out free.
Why? Because you meet Jesus there.
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.
— 1 John 1:9 (NIV)
In the confessional, we aren’t earning forgiveness—we are receiving the gift that cost Christ everything. And in receiving it, we are transformed. We see that God didn’t just overlook our sin; He took it on Himself. And when the priest says, “I absolve you,” it’s not the priest’s words that change you—it’s the love of Christ flowing through the Church He established.
Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”
— John 20:21-23 (NIV)
The Church teaches:
In imparting to his apostles his own power to forgive sins the Lord also gives them the authority to reconcile sinners with the Church. This ecclesial dimension of their task is expressed most notably in Christ's solemn words to Simon Peter: "I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." [Matthew 16:19]
— Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 1444
The Eucharist: Love Poured Out
There is no greater display of divine love than the Holy Eucharist. Every Mass is an invitation to remember the cost of our salvation. In the Holy Eucharist, we receive the very body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ. But how can we approach that altar without recognizing the sin that nailed Him on the cross? That’s precisely why St. Paul tells us to examine ourselves before receiving:
Whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup.
— 1 Corinthians 11:27-28 (NIV)
So yes, the Catholic Church talks about sin. But only because it believes in love. A love so radical that it does not ignore our darkness, but enters into it. A love that says, I see all of you—the worst parts—and I still want you.
What We Deserve vs. What We Get
If you believe you deserve Heaven, the Gospel will always feel unnecessary. But if you know what you truly deserve, then the Gospel will wreck you—in the best way. You’ll begin to see the radical nature of grace.
The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love.
He will not always accuse,
nor will he harbor his anger forever;
He does not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.— Psalm 103:8-10
Far from being obsessed with rules, the Church is obsessed with grace. We recognize the horror of sin only to highlight the glory of forgiveness. This is not guilt for guilt’s sake. It is guilt transformed by divine love into joy and freedom. We talk about sin because we have a Savior. And we don’t just believe in Him—we receive Him. The Eucharist is not a symbol. It is Christ Himself. And how can I receive that Love without first recognizing how desperately I need it?
But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.
— Ephesians 2:4–5 (NIV)
Dead in our sins, made alive through Christ. This is the very heart of the Catholic faith. And it is precisely because we are so aware of our sin that we are so amazed by His mercy.
Conclusion: Love That Tells the Truth
The non-denominational Christian is right to say that the Gospel is about love. But love is not the absence of conviction. Love is the presence of mercy in the face of truth. And the Catholic Church, through her sacraments, offers not just a reminder of that love—but a real encounter with Love Himself.
Through the priest, through the Eucharist, through the Church, Christ is still speaking: You are forgiven. Not because you earned it. But because He loves you. And that love is most deeply known by those who know how much they need it.
So no, Catholicism isn’t too focused on sin. It’s focused on the God who overcame it.