There are tons of popular crime shows on TV, but I seldom watched any until recently. The trend got started, more or less, with CSI, but the gross-out factor (sordid crimes, constant close-ups on corpses and autopsies) was always too high for me.

The last few months have been a different story, though. It all started because I've had health problems (bad back and neck) that mostly keep me in at night, leaning back in a recliner. Watching TV is pretty much all I can do by that late in the day: My neck gets stiff if I spend much time doing anything else, even reading or talking on the phone. During this time I've had a relative staying with me to help me out, who watches several of the current crime series. So many of my evenings have been spent watching the same shows, and lately I've had a crash course in series like Law and Order, Without a Trace, and Close to Home, to name a few.

It's been something of a revelation to me. I've come to appreciate the appeal of such shows, part of it rooted in some real virtues. But I've also seen confirmation of the reason I hesitated to watch too much of such things in the first place.

By their nature, these programs deal with the ugly side of life — a lot uglier than crime shows used to depict. Hardly anyone bothers with robberies on TV any more. It's all murders, rapes, kidnappings, child abuse: All the most horrific things are weekly fare. And uglier yet, the detective work often unveils twisted dynamics within families and other relationships. As in real life, the criminals frequently aren't strangers, but close acquaintances — people who are supposed to be trusted loved ones.

Well, there's a place for this in drama, so long as it's shown to be ugly. And it is. Today's crime shows have a lot of things going for them, including sharp editing, crisp writing and intriguingly brainy detective work. But their best quality may be that, based on my limited sampling, they've got a pretty solid sense of moral clarity — at least compared to a lot of other TV shows. They appeal to your sense of justice, your desire to see innocents (especially children) protected and to see families and neighborhoods as safe, nurturing places. When a show depicts (say) a teen who gets involved in drugs, pornography or prostitution, it's shown as a tragedy which breaks the hearts of the parents. The heroes, whatever their flaws, are saddened by the loss of a better, safer world, even if some try to mask it behind a façade of toughness. They're working to preserve and restore what decency they can to life, whether by rescuing the innocent or capturing and punishing the guilty.

I suspect that's a big reason why the shows are so popular: They're getting in touch with the same longings in the audience. And there's something very healthy about that.

But if we overindulge in these sorts of shows, there can also be something rather unhealthy.

The problem is, simply, that they depict so much evil. And no matter how it's portrayed, sheer overexposure can produce evils in and of itself.

One danger is desensitization. Several critics have pointed that out for decades, not just about the current crop of TV series but about violent media in general. But there's a new twist on more recent shows: Much more than before, we see crime through the eyes of people (police, prosecutors, etc.) who see it all the time. That alone can erode our capacity to be shocked, or even, in some people, feed a morbid fascination. It should be said this may not be intentional: A lot of shows (including the ones I've been watching) try hard to work against it, and even specialize in stoking the viewers' sense of outrage. Still, if we soak up too much of the violent material, we (at least many of us) still face these dangers.

Another, more subtle, danger — and one to which I've found myself susceptible — is pride. Of all the sin in the world, God would have us be most conscious of our own: By focusing our attention on the most extreme and vicious offenses, crime shows may tempt us to think of ourselves as fundamentally good people simply because we do find ourselves so appalled by those crimes, and the people who commit them.

The danger isn't confined to the shows we watch, of course. We face a similar danger in following crime stories on the news, to say nothing of "tabloid TV" shows like Inside Edition (though the difference between pure sensationalism and standard "news" shows is dwindling all the time). We also face the danger in wartime: We can dwell upon the offenses of other people (especially foreigners, who seem so different from ourselves) and internally congratulate ourselves on our basic decency.

But when we do that, the devil wins — and perhaps laughs all the louder for leading us into sin at precisely the time we feel most righteous. For again, whatever the crimes of other people, the Lord wants our hearts and minds first and foremost aware of our own. And as Jesus so pointedly noted, there's not one of us who doesn't violate every one of the Ten Commandments in his heart every day. That's why He had to die for the sins of all the people, not just some of them.

This isn't to say we should fixate even on our own sin, though. As St. Paul writes, "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." (Phil. 4:8)

It's clear that Paul doesn't mean we shouldn't notice evil in the world, much less in ourselves: His own scriptural writings are ample evidence of that. But he's telling us where our emphasis should be. When we combat evil, it should be because we're concentrating on affirming what's good. And to do that, we need to direct the lion's share of our attention to what's good.

So while I've been taking in a limited diet of crime shows, I've also been making a point lately of seeking out a sizable dose of positive programming.

For example, I've gotten attached to Hallmark Channel movies. Admittedly, they're not the best-written, -acted or -produced shows on the air. And a lot of them are somewhat formulaic: A lead character who's been living in the big city goes home to a small town to mend fences with their families, discover romantic relationships, and find the virtues that come with less glamorous but more intimate communities. In several of them, lots of people actually go to church, pray and get wise counsel from their pastors — a side of real life rarely seen in most Hollywood programs.

Some (typically urban) critics might sneer at such movies, but I've found them clean, heartwarming and uplifting: They leave me thinking about — well, things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely and admirable.

And it's made a difference in my life — at a time when I really needed it.

It's no fun having health problems, and if I had my druthers, I'd do something besides watch TV night in and night out. And hopefully I'll be able to again one of these months, if my health improves. But in the meantime, taking a dose of uplifting programming has helped me mentally, emotionally, spiritually and even physically. I sleep better, I feel more positive, and I even feel more faithful — all because I'm soaking up entertainment that reminds me not just of the grim things in life, but of all the good things in life that God has made: family, friendship, hope, love.

When you can, you should get out and enjoy all those blessings. But when you can't, don't forget to spend time thinking about them. It's all a part of a balanced, healthy spiritual diet.