As a child, I suffered from the attention of bullies. I got picked on a lot, in a myriad of creative ways. Really, there were a few boys in my life who were virtuosos of cruelty, and they made my life miserable for years. However, one fateful day – as the meanest of the bullies broke an art project I’d worked on for weeks – a piece of advice I’d heard came to mind: If you stand up to a bully, they’ll back down and leave you alone.
So I did exactly that. I mustered all my bravery, threw down my backpack, and stood my ground.
Less than a minute later, I got the crud beaten out of me. To this day, if I try to recall that moment, I can still feel the wind getting knocked out of me as his fist hit my stomach. At that moment, I definitely didn’t feel conventional bully-handling wisdom bore out my personal experience.
“Stand up to that bully.”
“If you think that gal is interested in you, ask her out!”
“Ask yourself if, in 20 years, you’ll be disappointed that you tackled this challenge, or that you didn’t tackle this challenge.”
Parents have offered such aphorisms and encouragement for probably as long as there have been parents. Why is that? Is it because parents know that any such insight is sure to prove successful (however you define it)? Obviously not; my own bully story proves that! And, I’m sure, many teenage boys have found themselves rejected by the girls they asked to the big dance.
But, I suspect, parents offer this advice because – ultimately – following it will lead you to a better life . . . if not in the specific circumstances, then in the larger context of forging your personality and character.
This all came to mind as I reflected on today’s readings. It’s the Feast Day of Saint Luke, so today we fittingly have Sacred Scripture from the Gospel that bears his name. In it, Jesus tells 72 disciples – traveling as 36 pairs – how they should go ahead of him to spread the news: “Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals; and greet no one along the way . . . If a peaceful person lives there, your peace will rest on him; but if not, it will return to you.” The whole passage is worth reading, honestly. But I found myself trying to think of it in the manner of one of his disciples.
Wait; “if” a peaceful person lives there? That means there’s a chance that a peaceful person doesn’t live there, right?
Indeed. Being a follower of Christ is often filled with peril. In today’s first reading from the Second Letter to Timothy, there’s a great line: “Alexander the coppersmith did me a great deal of harm; the Lord will repay him according to his deeds. You too be on guard against him, for he has strongly resisted our preaching.” If that’s the same Alexander that’s referred to in the First Letter to Timothy, then he’d been a troublemaker before: “Some, by rejecting conscience, have made a shipwreck of their faith, among them Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan to be taught not to blaspheme.” (1 Timothy 1:19-20)
Our Faith and Tradition are full of those who followed Christ and paid a price, in ways small and big. My own Biblical namesake – Saint Stephen – has a bit of fame among the faith as the first martyr, being stoned to death for speaking on behalf of the Faith. Catholicism spread as far and wide as quickly as it did partly because of the blood of martyrs, those who were willing to pay the ultimate mortal price for their beliefs.
As far as we know, there wasn’t any such prices paid by those disciples instructed by Jesus. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there were naysayers and malcontents that Christ warned about. It’s quite likely those followers had a much harder time of life than if they’d stayed in the safe confines of the world they know before Jesus. So why did they do it?
Our parents offer advice not because it necessarily leads to assured success, but because they believe it will be worth it for the ultimate rewards: becoming a better person, growing beyond our fears and doubts to become our best selves. God – whether in the person of our Heavenly Father, Christ our brother, or the Spirit of wisdom – wants the exact same thing . . . only in this case, “our best selves” refers to our immortal souls. And God realizes that there can be a discrepancy between what we might think is good for our earthly lives and what is truly good for our souls.
Following Christ does not assure earthly comforts. It does not ensure that nothing bad will ever happen to us. What the journey Christ offers is a path to salvation, open to all who are willing and able to follow him.
Standing up to that bully didn’t work in the short term. But, in the months that followed that encounter, I found my tormentors did bother me less. (Whether they no longer saw me as easy prey or they’d just gotten bored, I’m not sure.) And a couple of years later, I was off to college, and they were only a memory.
Following Christ has involved sacrifice for me. It’s involved vulnerability, and strained relationships, and many difficult moments. And this path that Jesus offers does not promise material prosperity, or physical comforts, or tangible rewards, or bodily safety. But the path he provides is honest and Good, and leads to the kind of growth of spirit and self that eclipses even our parents’ efforts at instilling growth . . . with an ultimate reward greater than any trifles this world can offer.
Today’s readings: Rom 1:16-25; Ps 19:2-3,4-5; Lk 11:37-41
