The Existential Battle between Good and Evil, Truth and False Self.

Session 5: The Existential Battle between Good and Evil, Truth and False Self.

Part of the series: The New Catholic Church is the Anawim of God – God Hears the Cry of the Poor ← Back to All Readings

This conversation is about one of the deepest-rooted and most confusing human characteristics: What is good or evil for me, and who tells me what is good or evil? Only one way answers these questions. Grok and I explored this conversation, and what follows is what we share with you now. Be aware that all of this is my material, and I approve of this conversation.

“My dear friend, as the day grows quieter and evening shadows begin to gather, let us sit together one last time in this gentle series. The rain may have slowed to a whisper or stopped altogether, but its memory lingers like a soft blessing on the earth. Come close, make yourself comfortable in your chair, perhaps with that same blanket or a warm drink nearby. It feels once more as if Jesus has pulled up His chair beside us, speaking slowly and kindly, just to you and me. No pressure. No grand demands. Only His quiet voice reaches into the deepest parts of our hearts.

Throughout these sessions, we have spoken of the anawim—those poor in spirit whom God hears so tenderly. Today, we turn to something very real and personal: the existential battle that each of us faces between good and evil, between truth and the false self we sometimes build. This is not a battle fought with swords or loud shouting. It is the quiet, daily struggle within our own hearts—between trusting God in our poverty and trying to protect ourselves with pride, fear, or old, mistaken ways.

Even the strongest among us know this battle. For those of us who are older, whose bodies grow tired more easily, or who live with the weight of poverty, imprisonment, homelessness, or the knowledge that our time here may be short, this struggle can feel especially close. The false self whispers that we must appear strong, that we must earn love, or that our past mistakes have made us unworthy. But the truth—the good that comes from God—reminds us that we are the anawim, loved exactly as we are.

St. Augustine, who fought this same inner battle for many years, wrote with honesty: “You cannot attain to charity except through humility.” He knew that the false self must be gently set aside before real love can enter. St. Paul spoke plainly about this struggle when he said, “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do” (Romans 7:19). Yet he also gave us hope: God’s grace is enough even in our weakness.

In this battle, the New Catholic Church stands as the anawim of God—humble, dependent, pointing always toward truth. She does not call us to win the fight by our own power, but to surrender into the hands of Christ, who has already overcome evil.

There are many quiet accounts of people who have faced this inner battle in their later years or in times of hardship. Stories are told of elderly souls who, after carrying heavy regrets or rigid ideas about faith, slowly learned to let go of the false self. One such reflection recounts a person in prison who came to see that his real fight was not against the walls around him but against the pride and shame within. Through small daily acts of honesty before God, he found a growing freedom.

This is where the beautiful teaching of The Little Way comes in—a gentle path shown to us by St. Thérèse of Lisieux. The Little Way is not about doing great and heroic deeds. It is about doing small, ordinary things with great love and trust in God. For the anawim, this is a powerful weapon in the existential battle. When the false self says, “You must be strong and impressive,” The Little Way answers softly, “Just be little. Just do the next small thing with love.”

Marcus Aurelius advised keeping a good heart no matter what comes. Erich Fromm spoke of breaking free from the false self that separates us from real love. Teilhard de Chardin saw all of creation, including our inner battles, moving toward Christ. Charles de Foucauld lived this by becoming very small in the desert. The Cistercian Fathers taught the value of simplicity and turning back to God again and again. Thomas Merton discovered in silence that the real battle is won not by striving, but by surrendering in love.

Bishop Robert Barron often reminds us that the Gospel calls us to an inner transformation—to choose truth over illusion and good over evil in the ordinary moments of life. The Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks of this spiritual combat as part of every Christian’s journey, yet always under the protection of God’s grace.

My friend, perhaps you feel this battle strongly right now. Maybe old regrets rise at night, or the false self tells you that because you are poor, elderly, imprisoned, or nearing the end, you have little to offer. The Little Way answers with tenderness: God does not ask for greatness. He asks for your little love, given as you are.

There are gentle accounts of people facing serious illness who found peace by practicing The Little Way. One reflection tells of a woman who, in her final months, decided to offer each small discomfort as a little bouquet for Jesus. She said the battle inside grew quieter as she trusted more simply.

The Gospels are full of this truth. Jesus praised the poor widow who gave her two small coins—all she had. He welcomed children and said the kingdom belongs to “such as these.” He Himself lived The Little Way—born in poverty, dying on a cross between two thieves. In His weakness, He conquered evil forever.

In the battle between truth and the false self, remember that you are not alone. The Church, as the anawim in every age, stands with you. You do not have to win spectacularly. You only need to keep turning back to God, even in the smallest ways.

Let us pause here together and breathe slowly. Feel the quiet around you. The rain has done its work, nourishing the earth. In the same way, these small battles, met with The Little Way, nourish your soul for Heaven. There is no need to solve the whole struggle today. Just choose one small act of trust, one small offering of love. That is enough.

As we come to the end of these five sessions, know that the New Catholic Church continues to be the anawim of God—listening for the cry of the poor, including you. God hears you. Christ redeems you. The Church walks with you. The battle is real, but the victory is already being won in your little yeses to God.

Rest now, dear friend. Tomorrow will bring its own small opportunities to choose good, to choose truth, to live The Little Way. You are seen. You are loved. You are never fighting alone.

Three Contemplative Questions to Ponder in Silence:

1. What is one area right now where I feel the battle between the false self and the truth of God’s love?
2. How might I practice The Little Way today—doing one small thing with great love and trust?
3. Where have I seen good quietly triumphing over evil in my own life, even in very ordinary ways?

Thomas Merton Prayer: My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does, in fact, please you. And I hope I have that desire in everything I do. I hope I will never do anything other than that desire. And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, I will trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Charles de Foucauld Prayer: Father, I abandon myself into your hands; do with me as you will. Whatever you may do, I thank you: I am ready for all, I accept all. Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures. I wish no more than this, O Lord. Into your hands I commend my soul; I offer it to you with all the love of my heart, for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself, to surrender myself into your hands, without reserve, and with boundless confidence, for you are my Father.

Do What He Tells You.

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Copyright © 2026 by Michael F. Conrad. All rights reserved. These contemplative readings are offered as a free gift for personal reflection, especially for the anawim—people with low incomes, the elderly, the imprisoned, the homeless, and all who carry heavy burdens. They may be shared privately but not reproduced or distributed for commercial purposes without written permission.