Awkward Catholic

Living my faith as the awkward man of God that I am.


1 Comment

A Saint Half Full is No Saint at All

That awkward moment when you realize the person treating you like crap is your “neighbor” and you’ve sort of got to treat him with mercy and love. That happened to me recently. I was working with someone on a project (a board game I’m preparing to Kickstart) and I didn’t effectively communicate with him to make my dream a reality. He didn’t take it well, to say the least. I tried my best to apologize and make amends but he ignored all that and in my heart I passed judgment on him.

Judgment Bus

It seems like such a small thing, passing judgment on someone who rubs us the wrong way, it seems such a small thing, a harmless thing, a justified thing at times to judge and speak ill of those who offend us. “They deserve it,” “That person is rotten to the core,” “She is just getting what she deserves,” “I’m only speaking the truth about him so it’s not really gossip.” But in reality, it’s a big problem. I’m not claiming it’s easy, to show mercy and forgiveness, in fact I fail at it myself so often, but it’s worth saying and being reminded of. After all, St. Therese said, “You cannot be half a saint. You must be a whole saint or no saint at all.” And it’s precisely in these little things where we fail to be a whole saint.

 

Today’s Gospel strikes to the heart of the matter: Luke 10:25-37. In this passage Jesus is questioned by a scholar as to how to inherit eternal life. Is this not the crux of sanctity… uniting ourselves for eternity with God?! Jesus turns the question around on the scholar and asks him to sum up the Law (which in the Jewish understanding meant “teaching”). The scholar responds by stating the “Greatest Commandment”: to love God with your whole self and to love your neighbor as yourself. “Do this and you shall live,” Jesus responds. Easy, right?good-samaritan

 

Wrong.

 

The scholar, perceiving exactly how difficult this would be immediately wishes to justify himself by asking, “Who is my neighbor?” This the way of things, isn’t it? “But Lord, my neighbor s a jerk!” “I’m just trying to teach him a lesson!” “He deserves it!” “He doesn’t deserve my love, he’s a sinner!” “He’s disgusting, his lifestyle is so obviously wrong that I just can’t love him.” “What would others think of me?”

 

To our limited vision, according to worldly wisdom our justifications make sense. But our ways are not the Lord’s ways. How does Jesus respond to the “justified” scholar? By telling him the story of the Good Samaritan. You know the story, the priest and scholar ignored the dying man on the road but the Samaritan (the one who was considered lower than a dog, to Jews) saw the man’s wounds and had merciful love on him. And that is how we’re called to act to all we meet along this road of life; it’s not easy.

 

Most people we meet along our road are not literally lying in the street bloodied and dying. As always, when reading Scripture we must probe deeper than the surface of things. Most people look normal and healthy, as you and I do. But that’s only because most wounds are not visible to our senses. Each of us is broken and dying on the inside. Most of us harbor deep wounds that cause us to love like half saints, or even less than that. The robbers who left the man for dead are all those that wound us throughout our lives, who hurt us, abandon us and leave us for dead; those who rob us of our dignity through bullying; those who rob us of our ability to have healthy relationships through abuse and neglect; those who rob us of so much more, often times because of their own wounds.

 

So that person who “deserves” our justified judgment is wounded just as we are and thus, in God’s eyes demands our mercy and love! It is up to us to enter into the person’s woundedness, even if that simply means forgiving them in your heart and not judging them. A transgression forgiven heals the victim and the transgressor, for “where sin abounds grace abounds all the more”.

 

But, if possible, more is demanded of us. To love our neighbor as ourselves requires sacrifice and accompaniment. We are called, not simply to have pity on our neighbor but mercy. And mercy doesn’t simply pour some ointment on the wound and walk away. The Samaritan didn’t just pour some wine and oil on the man’s wounds and go on his merry way. No, he lifted him onto his own donkey and carried him to an inn and paid for his care and promised his return.

Pope Francis' General Audience

Do you see that accompaniment?! The Samaritan accompanied this man to safety, to deep healing; he loved him as a brother, a man who likely would have treated the Samaritan as a dog if they’d met under different circumstances. Recall, this is a story directly out of Jesus’ mouth, not just a nice thought of some pious theologian living in a comfy monastery. This is the demands of love, of the Law of eternal salvation. To be a whole saint means to have merciful love on all those we meet, on each and every one of our neighbors, no matter how beautiful or disfigured (inside or out) they may be. We are not called to save them; we are called to love them; just as we are not called to save ourselves but to be faithful to the One who loves us onto eternal life.

 


4 Comments

A Father’s Heart

Therese and DaddyThe other day I was resting on the couch and my beautiful 16 month old daughter fell asleep on my chest. It is one of those moments I will forever treasure; a moment of absolute peace and trust and love. I lay there thinking about my love for my family when the terrible reality of what’s happening in our world today crossed my mind. Would I be willing to risk everything, to leave home and country and risk my life for the sake of my family? In a heartbeat. Don’t mess with a father’s heart.

It is through this lens that I speak of everything else below. It is through my fatherly heart that I understand the tragedy of the refugee crisis in the Middle East, Africa and Europe. It is through my fatherly heart that I struggle to understand the immigration problems in the Americas. In reality, there’s not a whole lot of difference between the crisis in Europe and the one in America. Both revolve around families doing whatever they must to stay alive.

This, in large part, is why it astounds me that so many people, so many Christians have such a strong bias against immigrants; as if having to press a button on a phone for English is actually hurting you. Many will retort that they’re not against immigration, but against illegal immigration. They’re against people breaking the law. That’s fair, I guess. I mean I know I would never break the law, even if my child’s life was at stake, even if my entire family was at risk of starving to death or of being bombed out or gunned down if we stayed where we were. Even then I would never even think of trying to find somewhere else to live if it meant getting there illegally. I would stay put and fix things in my own country, even though I have no education, money, resources, political voice, etc. to actually make a difference.

But I digress. It’s funny how we claim the word Christian when it’s convenient, when we have time to go to the soup kitchen and get our hands dirty making sandwiches, when we give of our excess to St. Vincent de Paul, as long as the poor don’t come into my neighborhood, my county, my state or my country. But when those in need begin to impose demands upon us, we suddenly find every excuse in the world. We already have too many problems here, too many poor and not enough time.

The Christian faith is not one of convenience, it is of sacrifice, and it is an inconvenient truth that those who lose their lives save it. Judeo-Christianity puts the orphan, widow and alien first, not second. Not only if they are here legally, but if they simply have a need. Unfortunately, we too often let fear control us. We are afraid they will take our jobs, drain our resources, corrupt our culture, and turn into criminals, or worse, terrorists. But perfect love casts our fear. Fear is no way to live or to love. The majority are not criminals but some of the hardest working, most faithful people I know. They add to our culture, making it richer, more vibrant and more beautiful, and they do not take our jobs but most often take the jobs we don’t want to do, and in the process grow our economy and enrich our lives.

We lose nothing, absolutely nothing when we give of ourselves, when we care for and love the orphan, the widow and the alien, rather we gain everything else along with them. Who is my neighbor? That’s simple, everyone.

Does our Father in heaven care if we’re brown, black, yellow, white or green? Does he care if we’ve crossed some arbitrary border with or without permission? No! His heart is breaking for his children who are suffering and dying for lack of sympathy and fear. My fatherly heart is nothing else than an image of our Father’s heart. He is the image in which all fathers are made. The Good Samaritan is a prototype of this. The beaten man he encountered was a foreigner, his enemy and yet he cared and loved him as his own brother.

Lord, help us be less like the priest who crossed to the other side of the road and more like the Samaritan.Helping Hand