Paul StuligrossI’m not the smartest person in the world. Never claimed to be. But if there’s one thing I’ve acquired, after 24 years of police work, it’s a little bit of wisdom; in fact, a window, as it were, into the human condition. I’ve been fortunate enough to pull that into my new vocation as a high school theology teacher. We pull our experience into our theology. It’s inevitable.
But I often wonder if who God is for us doesn’t tell us more about us than God. Often, rather embracing that we are made in God’s image, we try to make God in ours. In so doing we put limits on Him, thus compartmentalizing him into our own preconceived designs.
I’ve learned a lot from people much wiser than I. I’ve also made my share of mistakes. But I think what ultimately gives us the coin on wisdom is our ability to see that it comes from God, not the world. Bishop Fulton Sheen once wrote: “Knowledge is proud it has learned so much; Wisdom is humble that it knows so little.”
Here are some lessons I learned from police work. Don’t know if they’ll strike a chord, but I hope they do.
Lesson one: We humans are adept at fooling ourselves. Most of the calls I took as an officer were because of this. People constantly fooled themselves into believing they were entitled to something that wasn’t theirs, forced to “vindicate” someone who had wronged them, or justified in committing some crime.
Lesson two: We humans are adept at fooling ourselves. Sometimes we think we are righteous. I’m reminded of the call I once took from a “concerned citizen” who so “righteously” pointed out that his neighbor was violating an ordinance by running a “lemonade stand” without a permit. There were two kids with a card table selling lemonade, and he was going to “get to the bottom of it.” I reminded him, in as kindly a way as possible, that he was acting like a fool. I then drove over to the neighbor’s house … and bought some lemonade.
Lesson three: We humans are adept at fooling ourselves. I spent seven years as a detective, investigating crimes and interviewing suspects. Know how I could tell if someone was lying to me sometimes? Their lips were moving. This is a hard concept for some people to understand. Our church friends are great people. My family is better for knowing them. But, like all, their worldview is guided by their experience. They are surrounded by other honest, faithful people. To them, the world is a marvelous place filled with marvelous people.
Lesson four: We humans are adept at fooling ourselves. My police friends could also sometimes be a bit tainted. Imagine all you see for one score of your life are thieves, liars and cheats. Problem is, the world isn’t all bad, either. So while I may be urged to follow my daughters as they walk our dog around the block, lest they be abducted by the creep that is inevitably around every corner, I also need to learn that most people are not predators.
Lesson five: Though we humans are adept at fooling ourselves, God still loves us.
Perhaps the best way to keep from getting cynical is to find the best in everyone without losing the edge that evil still exists. As Mr. Kresta so adeptly put it in his article a few weeks ago, there is a difference between judging and being “judgmental.” Judging is about intent. It’s about “learning to develop moral discrimination and judge rightly.” When that leads to something sanctimonious, it’s then we have a problem.
I walk that tight-rope with my kids — the one that rises above a fall into gross naivety on one side, and cynicism on the other. I just hope I can stay on the rope. I’m glad I’ve got friends that will help me. And a God who will, too.
Paul Stuligross teaches theology at Livonia Ladywood High School and is a former police officer.
