Paul StuligrossImage is a powerful thing, but it can be deceptive and poisonous. We look up to many different idols, sometimes good ones; often not. And when those idols fall, we wring our hands and wonder how we could have been so fooled. Perhaps we give too much credit to the creature.
I’ve often said if you want to have your eyes opened to the failings of humanity, go work in a police department. You’ll see things that will surprise you — not the least of which are the skeletons in people’s closets you never knew existed. Sometimes you’ll see people at their best, but often you’ll see them at their worst.
What I learned quickly was why Jesus warned against being too judgmental. Often we don’t know enough about a person’s life, motives or struggles to judge them for eternity. Nor do I mean we should refrain from making judgments about people, places or things. That’s what it means to be prudent. I tell my daughters that all the time. Often the way someone presents himself or herself on the outside says a lot about who they are on the inside. However — we are always called to love, to give people opportunities to manifest their goodness, and become who they were meant to be. It’s the idea that we are far better than our worst decisions, and a bit less good than our best.
I recall Mother Teresa’s response once to a reporter when asked about the fate of a murderer. He asked her, “Should this person go to hell?” She responded in a way only she could: “I’m glad I’m not God so I don’t have to make that decision.” More than once during my police career, I placed handcuffs on someone and at the same time felt God nudging me, as if to say: “Be careful. He may make it into heaven before you do.”
Humility is a misunderstood concept. It’s not a virtue meant to drive us to self-deprecation. Rather it’s the realization of who we are in God’s eyes, the idea that we’re honest with ourselves, even when it hurts. It’s the understanding that we all have weaknesses, that we all find ourselves from time to time wallowing amidst the mud created by our own decisions — and that we may need to look to our brothers or sisters to pull us out.
God doesn’t call us to compare ourselves with others, but simply to be the best we can be. And we need to aspire to something greater than ourselves in order to do that. Perhaps that’s best encapsulated on a lot of shirts I’m seeing these days: “There can be no brotherhood of man, without a fatherhood of God.”
As for me, I find myself humbled regularly. I have a wife and two daughters. Maybe that’s why God gives us families: so we can learn to live out our faith in community, and not get too pious.
So, why aren’t I better? Why do I struggle? I don’t have the answer to that. But I recall a wise person who once said, “Have patience with all things, but first of all, with yourself.” If we recognize that it may take a lifetime to change one thing within us, how can we be so impatient when others don’t change?
Maybe this faith thing has more to do with our own hearts than we think. Maybe Jesus’ words, “the Kingdom of God is within you,” mean exactly what they say.
I often wonder if we get so focused on saving the world that we leapfrog saving ourselves. A sure sign of self-deception might be if we preach tolerance and mercy, but aren’t willing to show it to those closest to us. If we find ourselves going on endless mission trips, but can’t take care of those around us, maybe we’ve got our priorities mixed up.
One of the great parts of the Catholic Mass is the examination of conscience. When we look intently at our own houses, we’re less likely to tell others how to clean theirs. That’s when we can begin to show charity to ourselves, and to allow that “agape” to spill forth into our relationships with others.
Paul Stuligross is director of campus ministry at Orchard Lake St. Mary’s Preparatory High School and is a former police officer.
