Wounds That Heal

Six skills to soften the crosses we carry

05/07/2017

1 Peter 2:20B-25 

Beloved: If you are patient when you suffer for doing what is good, this is a grace before God. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in his footsteps. He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth. When he was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered, he did not threaten; instead, he handed himself over to the one who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body upon the cross, so that, free from sin, we might live for righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. For you had gone astray like sheep, but you have now returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.

          As you know, Bishop Taylor appointed me as “acting administrator” of St. Boniface from May 3 to May 15. My role is not to make any major changes – like buying a new Jacuzzi for the rectory – but to help in two areas. First, to facilitate the search for a new principal for our school, which is urgent. And second, to make Fr. Mario’s arrival here as smooth as possible: he will be your new pastor. You may know that Fr. Mario’s brother died tragically recently in Mexico, and naturally that weighs heavy on his heart. In this time of transition, the second reading from St. Peter is particularly apropos for our parish. St. Peter, the first pope, wrote: “If you are patient when you suffer for doing what is good this is a grace before God…because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in his footsteps.” As we say good-bye to Fr. Jason and hello to Fr. Mario, we may feel some unease and even some suffering. The job of a pastor is to help you carry that cross as you follow Christ. I once heard it described like this: “a good preacher should comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Today, I’d like to “comfort the afflicted” (in case you’re feeling some affliction) by sharing with you six skills I’ve learned in how to shoulder the cross of change, especially in interacting with other people. I hope it lightens your load a little.

          First, whenever you discuss an issue or a problem simply state the concern without comparing it to other things or other people. Sometimes we think we look better by comparing ourselves to others; we think, hey, at least I’m not as bad as that guy, so I must be better. We priests are notorious about this. Every priest who comes into a new parish thinks to himself: “Man, this place was a disaster! It’s a good thing I’m here to clean up this mess.” Like Mighty Mouse, we sing, “Here I come to save the day!” Of course, when I leave this parish guess what the new priest will say? He’ll say, “Man, this place is a disaster! Good thing I’m here.” Notice what we’re really doing. We think we look better when we make someone else look bad. But we don’t look better. Fr. Jon McDougal often told me, “Everyone is just doing the best they can.” He was right; he didn’t compare priests or parishes. Everyone is doing the best they can.

          Second, try to distinguish between statements of feeling and statements of fact when you’re talking to someone. We often think someone is expressing a fact when they are really sharing a feeling. Whenever you hear absolute terms like “always,” or “never,” or “every time,” or “not once,” or “everybody” or “nobody,” people are voicing their emotions, not expressing facts. When you hear someone sharing their feelings, acknowledge that feeling, and don’t fire back with facts contradicting them. Just listen to them with compassion and empathy. When you do that, you will be the more mature one, the “bigger person” in the conversation.

         Third, remember the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, “freedom of speech.” That means that everyone has a right to their opinion and also a right to express that opinion. That also means we have a corresponding responsibility to respect people’s opinions whether we agree or not. But it helps me to remember an old adage: “opinions are like armpits: everyone has two and they all stink.” So, while I respect other people’s opinions, I don’t need to get defensive or feel threatened by them, just like I’m not threatened by people’s armpits. In other words, there’s no need to shout down other people’s opinions; the Truth is big enough to defend itself, against other people’s opinions and against my opinions. The Truth is that big.

         Fourth, most things people say are autobiographical and subjective, that is, their statements reveal more about themselves than about the topic they are treating. When I first arrived at Mt. St. Mary’s Seminary, I stopped to talk to a fourth-year deacon. Trying to make some small talk, I said, “well, you know, this is a really great seminary.” He paused, looked at me and said, “That statement tells me more about you than it does this seminary.” I didn’t know what he meant so I half-laughed and walked off, thinking, WEIRDO. But I’ve never stopped thinking about what he said. Why? My statement only expressed my opinion about the Mount, but it was still very much up for debate how great the seminary is. Now, if someone says to me, “Fr. John, you’re the greatest priest in the universe!” I say, “Thank you.” But in my mind, I repeat what that deacon said to me in the seminary, “That tells me more about you than about my priesthood.” On the other hand, if someone says, “Fr. John, you’re the worst priest in the world!” I say, “Thank you.” But in my mind I realize they’re telling me more about them than about me. Of course, we have to listen and learn from what others say, we shouldn’t ignore them, but we also don’t have to take it so personally, because their statement is mostly autobiographical and subjective.

         Fifth, always make others look good. Clearly, in confidential settings we have to speak frankly and forthrightly about others, “calling a spade a spade.” However, in public settings, only say good and kind things about others. I learned this lesson from Msgr. Hebert. In 2000, I was being installed as pastor of St. Edward in Little Rock at a bilingual Mass. Msgr. Hebert did not speak Spanish, so I could say anything about him. Before we walked out into the sanctuary, he sensed his precarious position, and said sternly, “John, don’t make me look bad.” I just smiled broadly, making no promises. But I’ve remembered that comment and tried to use it in public settings, “Don’t make people look bad.” Even in the rare and anguished times I’ve had to let a staff person go, I tried to let them leave with their head held high. Msgr. Hebert’s baritone voice booms in my head, “John, don’t make me look bad.”

         Sixth and lastly, please remember there is a grace in every moment, especially in the sad and dark and lonely moments. I am convinced that’s where the greatest graces are hidden. God is never nearer than when he feels farthest. And my definition of grace is “anything that brings us closer to Christ.” Our Evangelical friends are fond of saying, “Man’s extremity is God’s opportunity.” Ask yourself: When have you prayed the hardest: when all was well, or when you were in dire straits?  Usually, we pray better when we’re in trouble. Or, put it this way: how hard is it to make it to Mass when you’re on vacation? It’s easy to forget God when we’re having fun in the sun. This transition of priests may uncover some hurts and wounds that sting, don’t ignore

them or bury them or shove them in the closet. Rather, ask Jesus to give you the grace to heal and grow closer to him, indeed, to become more like him.

         When I try to live these six lessons, my cross feels a little lighter. And it’s a little easier to do what St. Peter says in his first letter: “When Jesus was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered, he did not threaten; instead, he turned himself over to the one who judges justly…By his wounds you have been healed.” My friends, when we join our sufferings to those of Christ, by our wounds others will be healed, too.

Praised be Jesus Christ!