Imagine that you’re making a house of cards. You like the idea of the challenge, but you’re struggling, and you can’t get more than a few tiers up before your structure falls apart. But you keep trying, because — on some level — you feel the urge to create, and you want to feel good about yourself. You look over and see someone who’s really good at making card houses. He has an elaborate, beautiful house of cards. You look at your pitiful tower. And you realize that — rather than putting in the work and effort to get better at making your own card tower — it would be so much easier to knock down the other person’s, to show that they’re no better than you.
It’s a human urge that’s ugly, wrong, and detrimental, but tearing down others rather than building yourself up is an old problem. How old? Well, Jesus refers to it in today’s Gospel selection. It’s short enough that I won’t quote it here, but basically Jesus notes that people spoke ill of John the Baptist because he abstained from food and wine, and they spoke ill of Jesus because he partook of food and wine. Why, it’s almost like those folks were looking for any excuse not to have to listen to the righteous!
If you’re wanting to discredit or not pay heed to someone, you don’t need an excuse, because anything can be an excuse. If someone speaks eloquently, then they must think they’re too good for the rest of us; if they speak plainly, then there’s no reason to listen to them because they’re not inspiring or interesting enough. If someone is somber and serious, then they lack a sense of humor and don’t connect with humanity. If they crack too many jokes, then it’s impossible to take them seriously. And so on.
Of course, we know that’s not true. John the Baptist was a good and holy man, while Christ brought the goodness of God here on Earth. We do well to listen to their examples and guide our lives accordingly, but — even in the time of Jesus — there were those who were looking for any reason to discredit them.
All the Saints — who, by definition, we know are good and holy people — had different personalities and outlooks . . . some serious, some smiley, some powerful in stature, some weak, some brilliant speakers, some quiet introverts. They all can serve as inspirations to us to help bring us closer to God. And yet — being human — all of them had flaws that someone who was determined not to listen to them could latch on to. That doesn’t make the naysayers right, but it’s impossible for anyone who’s trying to be righteous to be wholly without flaws. Because even if you are perfect — like Jesus — there will still be people who will use any justification to discredit what you say and do.
My stepfather gave me some advice when I was young that’s stuck with me ever since: Regardless of what others say, at the end of the day you need to look at yourself in the mirror and determine if you did the best you could. If so, then it doesn’t matter what others said. If not, then you need to look at yourself and determine how you need to be better. (This is codified beautifully as the “examination of conscience” part of the Sacrament of Reconciliation.)
Of course, we need to listen to our God-given consciences — hopefully fortified by our faith, as well as our knowledge of Sacred Scripture and Tradition — to ensure the “mirror” trick is effective. (People can be good at deluding themselves!) But, at the end of the day, the only one we’re really “competing” against is ourselves, and the only one whose opinion is truly important is God’s. Ideally we surround ourselves with people who’s morals and outlooks align with our own (and the Church’s), so that trying to “impress” God and ourselves also ends up impressing them. But, ultimately, the opinion of others is nowhere near as important as the Spirit working through us to help ensure we do the right thing.
As some “homework” for the day, I’d ask: When is the last time you consulted the Catechism of the Catholic Church on anything? If it’s been a while, I recommend you look up something in it. Even if it’s a topic that you know the Church says is wrong, do you know why it’s wrong? What Scriptural evidence supports the position? What have the great scholars of our faith had to say on the topic? What other topics are tangentially tied to that position? Consulting the Catechism is a great way to strengthen our moral confidence and provide ready-to-use affirmation for the naysayers in our lives who would seek to tear down our own spiritual dwellings rather than build up their own morality.
Trappist monk Thomas Merton has a beautiful prayer I recommend reading. However, one part of it speaks strongly to me today: “[T]he fact that I think 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 all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from 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.” Ignore those who would seek to drive you off the road, and focus on staying true to your own journey.
Today’s readings: 1 Tm 3:14-16; Ps 111:1-2,3-4,5-6; Lk 7:31-35
