Saturday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 290

A ceiling painting in the
Monte Cassino Shrine
at Saint Meinrad, Indiana

If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first.
If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own;
but because you do not belong to the world,
and I have chosen you out of the world,
the world hates you.


Ordinarily I prefer not to think about how "the world" might hate me and my fellow Catholics. It's too easy to assume the role of "victim" and see myself as an alter Christus ("another Christ")  suffering just as he did. That temptation invariably leads to a very bad end as, being a christ, I can assume the right to judge, condemn and punish my enemies. Isn't that what Jesus intends to do? Then I've become the tormentor and the role of "victim" falls to someone else. 

But what would I do if the world hated me? Can I speculate on that without spiritual harm? 

The appropriate response is there in Jesus' words, "realize that it hated me first." So if someone were to hate me (in the unlikely event) I might suppose "It's not about me." and I need not take it personally. 

As one comedian said, "I don't care what they say about me, so long as it's not true." Can I so distance myself from my reputation, with confidence in the Lord as my Savior, that I would not care what people say about me?

Another story, this one from the "Sayings of the Desert Fathers": The young monk asked the older monk for a word of advice. The old man said, "Go to the cemetery and abuse the dead!" So the boy went out and heaped verbal insults upon the dead all day long, thoroughly and methodically. When he returned to his elder and reported what he had done, the old man asked, "And what did the dead say?" 
The next day he returned to the old monk and asked again for a word of advice. "Go to the cemetery and praise the dead." So the boy went out and spent the day recalling the life and stories of each deceased person and heaped accolades upon them. That evening the old man again asked, "And what did the dead say?"

Can I believe so confidently in the Lord my Savior that that I pay attention to neither insults not flattery?

I am certain that Jesus suffered on the cross. I am sure that thousands of Christians have suffered as martyrs for their fidelity to the truth. But I think they had learned how to accept the terrible pain without taking it personally. Although they were betrayed, they felt more anguish for their betrayers than for themselves. And they could no more blame them than a kindly mother might blame her toddler son when she takes a sharp knife from his little fingers and he responds with a torrent of childish abuse. She might not laugh in his face, but neither will she be upset. She knows she has done the right thing; and what he thinks of her at that moment doesn't concern her in the least. Rather, she goes right on preparing his next meal, as is her duty. 

I can imagine that kind of assurance in the face of opposition from others. May the Spirit of the Apostles prepare us for that day, if it must occur.