“Both faith and fear demand you believe in something you cannot see. You get to choose.” —Bob Proctor, Canadian author and lecturer.
One of the undeniable traits of being human is fear. We all suffer from it. Some, more than others. I’ve been acquainted with fear during different times in my life. It reared its ugly head often in my police career. When I retired from law enforcement and pursued teaching, I thought I’d be done with it. Instead, I found that it reappeared in different forms: fear of not teaching correctly, fear of not reaching students, fear of screwing something up in the classroom.
We needn’t look far to see how fear impacted people in the Bible. In fact, the phrase “fear not” is written 365 times in Scripture. That’s a testament to a few things: one, God understands how powerful fear is, and two, He doesn’t want it to be.
There are a few inexorable byproducts of fear. Unfortunately, I learned this not only as a police officer and detective, but also in my 14 years in Catholic schools. Fear can lead to assumptions, and assumption can lead to judgment. And if not careful, judgment can lead to self-righteousness. All of this, of course, changes when we allow ourselves to be grounded in the faith — and in humility. Permit me to unfold this.
School administrators have challenging jobs. They deal with issues that most teachers, or parents, know nothing about, and often don’t want to. I know this because to some extent, I played that role at two previous schools. I’m perfectly happy being a teacher, leaving those irrefutable headaches to someone else. Administrators deal with things so that we teachers don’t have to. Often, administrators are forced to make difficult decisions — sometimes about students or faculty. Now, get ready, because here comes the fear and assumption. Without understanding the landscapes they face, we can’t — and shouldn’t — make assumptions about the hearts of those who make them.
As a police officer, this happened to me regularly. I recall, more than once, responding to volatile situations that required “uncomfortableness” to resolve, use of force, use of hard negotiating tools, etc. And I recall being labelled as “less than charitable” for having to solve them.
While I have no way of knowing the hearts of people on the sidelines who make those claims, I do know one thing: human nature launches us regularly into the arena of assumption, fueled by fear. And if not careful, it can lead to presumptive sanctimony. When we encounter the uncomfortable, our fears can steer us to assumption.
One of the things I’ve always appreciated about the Catholic faith — and our local diocese — is our concern with human dignity. It’s at the forefront of who we are as Catholics and how we live our lives. But if not careful, we can let our fear and presumptions drive our resolve even in this area.
Everyone needs to be treated with respect and dignity. Always. This isn’t a suggestion by our faith, but a mandate. But what does that mean?
Is a school administrator who expels a student guilty of violating that student’s dignity? Is a law enforcement officer who must arrest someone guilty of violating that person’s dignity? Maybe, maybe not. It depends on the circumstances. For us to assume that dignity has been violated every time a difficult decision is executed can be just as presumptuous — or dare I say, self-righteous — as those who presume that all “criminals” fall into a malevolent category.
More than once, as an officer, while arresting an individual — many of whom might have been considered “outcasts” by society — I felt the Lord behind me, not chiding them, but me: “Be careful,” I felt Him say. “They may make it into heaven before you do.”
We must respect all people as children of God. I preach this to my students regularly. But our duty to perform our jobs — albeit, difficult at times — doesn’t have to violate that dignity. As Catholics, we must stop assuming the worst about others.
“The greatest enemy to human souls is the self-righteous spirit, which makes men look to themselves for salvation,” Charles Spurgeon once said. Moreover, “there is something in humility which exalts the heart, and something in pride which debases it,” St. Augustine wrote.
My prayer is that we may always remain steadfast in centering our focus on Christ, but also in not letting our actions meld into a false presumption about those whose jobs, or lives, we know little about, or fail to fully understand. Faith mitigates fear. Humility mitigates presumption. That’s something I must remind myself of daily.
Paul Stuligross currently teaches theology at Detroit Catholic Central High School in Novi and is a retired police officer.
