Before anyone of us self-identifies as “Catholic,” it would be wise to consider carefully what we’re self-identifying as…if only to avoid self-identifying as a “Good Friday crucifix Catholic” when in reality we’re a “Christmas crib Catholic.”
When Moses told the Hebrew people to “love the LORD, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength,” he didn’t mention one important item: What constitutes the “proof” that’s in the proverbial pudding.
Jesus provided the corrective in today’s gospel, identifying the “proof”—those who love God and neighbor as they love themselves.
Notice Jesus didn’t state more than they love themselves. He also didn’t state less than they love themselves. No, Jesus said, as they love themselves.
That raises an important question I’m not sure many of us ever ask ourselves: In an era when so many people believe appearances count for just about everything—including “Christmas crib Catholics”—and substance counts for little if anything, how many people actually love themselves in the way Jesus meant?
Consider the role television commercials play in how much we’re trained to focus upon appearances, as if life is about successful “image management,” which is to say, refashioning ourselves into someone we’re not.
Most of those television commercials promote images of what constitutes “perfection” for those who wish to live successfully in and of and for this world. Those commercials remind us continuously that we must immediately remediate any perceived deviation from the image those commercials communicate, that is, if our goal is to project the perfect image of what it means to be “someone” who counts for “something” in today’s world. For every possible perceived imperfection, more oftentimes than not those commercials offer a whole host of potential antidotes.
People ensnared within this vicious circle of continuously perfecting their external self-perceived imperfections as those are defined by people who live in and of and for this world—including “Christmas crib Catholics”—end up teaching themselves over a period of time and to one degree or another, not to love but to hate themselves. Having to be like someone else not who they are, these folks aren’t “happy in their own skin”—they’re inauthentic—and living in mortal fear of not being accepted for who they aren’t.
That’s a terrible moral and spiritual disease evidencing itself in much of what ails our culture today: Not loving ourselves by appreciating our bodies for what God has created them as and to be—God’s dwelling place. Instead, all too many people today are willing to do just about anything to remake themselves so they appear pleasing to others who in turn, it is hoped, will accept them.
But it ends up, these folks never end up being pleased with themselves!
Living to be please others and be accepted by them, those ensnared in this vicious circle don’t love themselves and, as a result, they don’t love others either. Moreover, not appreciating their bodies for what they are, they also don’t love God. Instead, they’re angry with God because they don’t understand why God would ever create them to be so unacceptable in the eyes of all those who count the most in this world and in their lives. Today, the mainstream media calls these people “social influencers.”
So, all those folks are either too tall or short, thin or fat, dumb or smart, gifted or not gifted...as the world defines those things. They spend their days experiencing terrible frustration because their bodies don’t project the correct appearance. This attitude breeds the kind of unhappiness that makes it impossible to love others because they don’t, first, love themselves. In addition, these folks know firsthand that appearances are deceiving—because the persona they project itself is a deception—what they give others isn’t the pure gift of themselves but a false self, carefully crafted and calculated to win the praise of others.
This past Thursday, I took a day trip with a couple of people to Amish country in the greater Lancaster area. My only goal was to have lunch at the Shady Maple smorgasbord. I was hoping to have some schnitz un knepp, but I had to settle for buttered kluski noodles with pot roast, corn, and peas. Even though it wasn’t what I had wanted for lunch, I didn’t leave disappointed one bit.
It was at the Shady Maple General Store that I ran into all sorts of Amish people, all wearing identifiable garb. What caught my eye, in particular, weren’t the men’s beards, hats, and coveralls but the women’s modest clothing, simple head coverings, and completely unadorned faces…absolutely no evidence of makeup. Quite obviously, the Amish don’t spend much, if any time each morning refashioning their appearances. The modest simplicity of how the Amish present themselves to the world struck me as edifying.
That got me thinking: If we’re to love God and neighbor as we love ourselves, as Jesus taught, we have to love ourselves first. That requires focusing upon the substance—who we are as God’s dwelling place—not the appearances—what we seek to be in the eyes of those who live in and of and for this world.
That focus directs our eyes inward and to that time in and from the beginning when God created us as a unique, distinctive, and unrepeatable creation and for an equally unique, distinctive, and unrepeatable divine purpose. Breathing that purpose into our soul, the “substance” or “essence” of who we truly are this is what we must love, bring into being, and fulfill if we’re ever to be “happy in our skin” and demonstrate authenticity and integrity of life. This is what we must love if we are to give ourselves as a pure, unadulterated gift to others because we love them genuinely as we love ourselves genuinely.
That’s why people can be either too tall or short, thin or fat, dumb or smart, gifted or not gifted as the world defines those things, yet be perfectly happy in their skin and demonstrate tremendous authenticity and integrity of life. Loving themselves as God’s dwelling place, what the temple looks like on the outside isn’t what matters because its interior is adorned with God’s majesty. When that’s the truth of our lives, it breeds the kind of happiness that makes it possible for us to love others as we love ourselves because we know firsthand that appearances are deceiving. And, what we give others is the gift of ourselves—from our substance.
As Jesus noted to the scribe, loving God and neighbor as we love ourselves “is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices” or, for us as Catholics, “more than all the Masses you may attend as well as prayers and penances you may perform.”
How so? Loving God and neighbor presumes that we love ourselves as God created each of us in and from the beginning.
That represents this week’s challenge from scripture: To learn to love ourselves.
How might each of us do that?
Take a cue from the Amish: Each day this week, present yourself as you are. That may mean not wearing “designer” clothes, not dyeing or coloring your hair or wearing hair extensions, a wig, or hairpiece, not putting on makeup, lipstick, or jewelry, covering tattoos, or painting your fingernails, and the like…avoiding anything that is not how God created us but how we have attempted to recreate ourselves.
I know this is going to be very tough and some may think: “I can’t do that. I’d be so embarrassed.” Or, “people will make fun of me.” Or, perhaps the truth: “For once, people would see me as I am not as I’ve made myself look to them.”
But that’s what it takes to be not just self-identify as a “Good Friday crucifix Catholic”! Ever take a look at a crucifix lately? That’s definitely not the most pleasing self-presentation but it’s surely the most authentic self-presentation of human integrity.
In place of all of the time and effort it takes to remake ourselves to make a false self-presentation in this world, move into each day this week with a short but sincere prayer—“Thank you, Lord, for creating me just as I am: A fitting dwelling place for You.”
If we stick with this moral and spiritual exercise, it will provide the solid foundation that’s required if we’re to love God and neighbor, first, as we love ourselves. It doesn’t guarantee we’ll not feel embarrassed if not ashamed or not be rejected by the “social influencers” any time this week or any time soon. But it does guarantee that over time, you and I will grow as “crucifix Catholics” who love God and neighbor as we love ourselves.
When we understand this, Jesus will observe of as he did the scribe:
You are not far from the kingdom of God.
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