I once was in the back of the church with some baby, and so I witnessed a couple who looked to be in their sixth decade of marriage as they hobbled in late. The old man was impeccably dressed as only a very old man can be, with a starched shirt collar standing up straighter than he could himself, his neck shrunken away so that his tie was knotted mostly around emptiness. All his power was concentrated on getting up the granite steps of the church -- and on enduring a constant stream of abuse from his wife, who toiled up behind him, muttering this litany toward the back of his head: "Selfish, selfish, never cared for me nor anyone, never a thought for anyone else, just go on your way, selfish, selfish, and you'll never change . . ."
Read what this has to do with our union with God here.