Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Along one street in Northwest DC may be found a red and white striped box. Beneath it is a small sign that identifies it as “The Compliment Machine.” As a pedestrian approaches, a chime sounds and a gentle voice offers a compliment like “People are drawn to your positive energy” or “You’re always there when you’re needed.”
“The Compliment Machine” is a reflection of our culture, which encourages the giving of praise and affirmation, especially in the workplace, at school, with spouses, and to children at home. And there’s a lot to be said for this. Most everyone appreciates being valued, thanked, and appreciated. It improves workplace morale, strengthens relationships, and can build confidence and self-respect.
However, there’s a downside to affirmation if we go overboard with it. People can get so conditioned to hearing praise for every little thing that they become overly sensitive to criticism. When they aren’t praised, they become insecure, and when they’re criticized, they become defensive or fall apart. Accordingly, the giving of positive criticism is now widely discouraged, for fear of damaging a person’s self-esteem. Worst of all, constant praise and affirmation can make people proud and arrogant and self-absorbed. They hear how special and fabulous they are all the time, and it goes to their heads. They expect everyone to acknowledge their greatness- even God himself.
Kind of like the Pharisee in today’s gospel story. He essentially prayed: “Hey God, look how wonderful and great I am. I do this that and the other. I am truly righteous- not like that other guy over there.” That other guy, of course, was a tax collector who stood in the shadows, hung his head, beat his breast and pleaded: “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Interestingly, God wasn’t impressed by the Pharisee’s prayer. It was the tax collector, Jesus tells us, who went away justified.
Some people may find this story somewhat puzzling. To begin with, the tax collector called himself a sinner. Won’t he hurt himself by his negativity? Shouldn’t he have tried to identify his positive qualities instead? Isn’t he damaging his self-esteem? And what about the Pharisee? Shouldn’t God have recognized him for his virtue? Shouldn’t he have been praised for all the good things he did? Why, in Jesus’ eyes, was it the tax collector who did what was right?
Questions like these have made Christianity a turn-off for some. Some of our faith’s harshest critics have said that, by focusing on things like sin, Christianity teaches happy people to be unhappy so it can minister to their unhappiness. And of course, we Catholics make jokes about our Catholic guilt and so on. Yes, there may have been times in our history that sin and sinfulness have been overemphasized. One can encounter it even today. An old school acquaintance of mine complains that all she ever hears from the priests at her church is that she’s a sinner.
The truth is, however, that God wants us to know that there are things about each one of us that don’t merit praise and affirmation. Things we need to change. Things for which we need to repent. Things for which we need mercy and forgiveness. Things we need to acknowledge and confess. This doesn’t mean that God doesn’t affirm us, because he does. But, God affirms us and he judges us; he loves us and he challenges us; he loves the sinner, and hates the sin. It’s not either/or. It’s both/and. When my eldest daughter was in kindergarten, she and her classmates are learned that God made each one of them unique and special, and that he loves them very much. That’s primary! But in second grade, she was introduced to the concept of personal sin as she prepared for her first confession. Both of these topics are necessary. We can’t emphasize one and neglect the other.
The tax collector in the parable acknowledged his sinfulness. But that doesn’t mean that he was being negative or self-defeating. He was simply being humble. And humility is a virtue. Humility doesn’t mean that we put ourselves down or have low self-esteem. It means instead that we have a realistic assessment of ourselves. It means that we know the real us- who we are in the eyes of God. In other words, humility is healthy self-knowledge. Pride, on the other hand, is self-deception.
Humility brings us face to face with our shortcomings and weaknesses, and thus our need for God. It enables us to see others with understanding and compassion. Pride makes us look down upon others in contempt- just like the Pharisee. It can even lead us away from God altogether. We can think that we’re so great and so special, that we have no real need of God. Jesus came to call sinners. But if we aren’t really sinners, then what’s the point of Jesus? It’s this sort of thinking that our Lord wants us to avoid. As Pope John Paul II once wrote, “If we forget our sinfulness, we forget our need for God. And when we forget our need for God, we have lost everything.”
Should Jesus’ call to humility and reminder of our sinfulness discourage us? No! Jesus would never discourage us, because discouragement makes us lose hope. And Jesus wants us to be filled with hope. Instead, what Jesus wants is for us is to acknowledge that we have a need to change, and that in itself is a message of hope. Because it means that Jesus wants us to grow, which is a sign that he loves us. The truth is: If we humble ourselves, we will be exalted. If we confess our sins, we will be forgiven. If we acknowledge our need for God, we’ll experience his grace. We are indeed sinners. But we are not sinners in the hands of an angry God. We are sinners in the arms of a merciful God. And there’s no greater affirmation that God can give to us, than to forgive us of our sins.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Many years ago, a well-known priest was rushing through a train station to meet some friends who were waiting to pick him up outside. On the way, he noticed a rough-looking homeless man seated on the floor with his back against the wall. The priest smiled an offered a pleasant “Hello” as he dashed by.
Immediately the homeless man stood up and followed him out of the station. When they arrived at the curb, the homeless man approached. Instinctively, the priest reached into his pocket for some spare change. The homeless man, however, declined the contribution. “I just wanted to come out here and thank you,” he said. “You’re the first person who has said anything at all to me in two days.” (1)
This little story goes to show that nobody ever wants to be ignored or taken for granted. This is especially true in the workplace. Employees who are never appreciated or thanked for what they do frequently end up hurt, angry, or depressed. As one human resources expert says, “From the mail room to the board room, the main reason people get demoralized or leave their jobs is that they don’t feel they get the respect they deserve.” In contrast, happy workplaces are literally saturated with gratitude and praise.
Contrast this with Jesus’ words in today’s gospel. He explains that good servants simply do what they are told, and should never expect any thanks in return. Furthermore, he tells us to consider ourselves as nothing more than “unprofitable servants.” This sounds rather harsh, and uncharacteristic of our merciful, loving Lord. However, a better translation would have Jesus tell us, not that we are worthless servants, but that we are servants who are “owed nothing.” This may seem like a subtle distinction, but it’s the key to understanding this somewhat difficult gospel passage. (2)
First, it needs to be stressed that Jesus isn’t saying that the good things we do aren’t pleasing to God. They are, and they fill him with joy! I’ve heard it said that God smiles upon our good efforts much like young parents are delighted at seeing their baby’s first steps. Second, Jesus isn’t saying that he thinks we’re worthless. In fact, Jesus thinks that we’re so valuable that he paid a tremendous price for us- the cross!
What Jesus is saying in this gospel, however, is that the good things we do don’t put God in our debt. In other words, God doesn’t “owe” us anything because of what we’ve done. Salvation is his free gift; we don’t “earn” our way into heaven. This is because any and every good work we perform was inspired by God in the first place! As St. Vincent de Paul once wrote, “Be careful to give no credit to yourself for anything; if you do so, you are stealing from God, to whom alone every good thing is due.”
It’s important for us to be reminded of this, because we’re people who are quick to ascribe our successes to ourselves, but point the finger at others for our failures. This is especially true of men. A recent article in Washingtonian magazine observed that when men do well in the stock market, they brag about their financial savvy and expertise. When they lose money, however, they place the blame on the bad advice they received from their stockbroker. On a similar note, you may have heard the old political joke that if you have no one to blame for something but yourself, then you need to hire a bigger staff!
To admit that our virtue and goodness is from God and not ourselves can be a difficult thing to do. As St. Therese, the Little Flower, once wrote: “The beginning of holiness is humbly admitting that without God we can do nothing.” At the same time, however, this realization can also come as a tremendous relief! The world is filled with people who are wracked with guilt because they think they don’t do enough to keep God happy. They think that God’s love depends on whether or not they do this, that, or the other. Motivated by fear and not by love, they become spiritually paralyzed by discouragement, anxiety, and scrupulosity.
A better way to view our relationship with God is to think in terms of the family. In a healthy family, the children don’t think that they need to earn their parents’ love. By experience they know that their mom and dad love them unconditionally. This love makes them feel valuable, and they can mature with confidence in a world they perceive to be a safe and nurturing place. In unhealthy families, parents rule by fear. Some, in their desire to enforce discipline as quickly and easily as possible, will actually use the threat of abandonment, overtly or subtly, to bring about the desired results. The message they give to their children is: “If you don’t do exactly what I want you to do I won’t love you anymore, and you can figure out for yourself what that might mean.” It means, of course, abandonment, which in a child’s eyes is tantamount to death. (3)
God is a good parent. His love for us is constant- it’s always there, no matter what we do. While he may hate the sin, he always loves the sinner. And of course he loves the saint too, but not because they earned his affection. This is the good news of today’s gospel. God wants us to understand him as our greatest cheerleader, one who wants us to succeed, who helps us, never gives up on us. We have no cause for fear of this God, whose love is freely given, and whose desire is not to punish, but to bless us with the gift of everlasting life. This God, to conclude and to again quote St. Thesese, “is compassionate and full of tenderness, slow to punish and abundant in mercy. As a father has tenderness for his children, so the Lord has compassion on us.”

(1) William J. Byron, SJ, Answers from Within, (New York, MacMillan, 1998), p. 89.
(2) John J. Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus, Cycle C (The Liturgical Press, Collegeville, MN, 1997), p. 147.
(3) M. Scott Peck, The Road Less Traveled (New York, Simon and Shuster, 1978), pp. 25-6.