Okay. I have no idea where I’ll be going with this post. That’s not true, I have some idea. I have the title. I want to share with you some thoughts that are beginning to bubble in my mind. I then want to ask you to leave a comment in the comment section (obviously) to help me grasp what I’m trying to say/beginning to understand.
Let’s hope by the end of this post I’ve said some helpful things and nothing too misleading.
You ready? Me neither.
I want to open a discussion over what I hear many teenage and young adult single Catholics say: “I’m waiting for God to send me my St. Joseph.” And the equivalent for blokes, “I’m looking for my Mary, or, St. Therese.”
Sorry to burst your bubble, but . . .
There are no more St. Josephs. There are no more Virgin Mary’s (there was only ever one of each). What there are are, those who have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God. (Romans 3:23). This, of course, has always been the case, but due to the sexualized culture in which we live, the ubiquity of porn, the break down of the family, the rejection of universal truths (e.g. try saying this in a blog without having all sorts of nasty thing said about you: “men are men and women are not. Women are women and men are not.”) this is especially the case.
The next date you will go on will be with a sinner, FYI.
It’s interesting to me how a line like that—the one I just wrote—doesn’t shock us. Nor do people feel ashamed when they say, “Hey, I’m a sinner.” But a sinner is one who sins, right? And I never hear people act so nonchalant about the particular sins they commit, “Hey, I’m a fornicator.”
But back to your next date. Swap “sinner” with one of the following and notice the difference in your reaction.
The next date you will go on will be a person who is a liar/selfish/arrogant/racist/a glutton/greedy/slothful/hateful . . . See what I mean?
Now, let me quickly respond to what might be your reaction to what I’ve said so far. I am not arguing,”hey, everyone’s screwed up, therefore go ahead and marry the next broken and wounded shmuck you lay your eyes on.” I’m not saying that, that would almost certainly be disastrous.
What I’m inviting us to do is to prayerfully reflect upon the way we shun and run from the poverty in others (and in ourselves). It’s easy to say, “love the poor.” But I (and I’m sure you’re different) feel awkward, inconvenienced, and most times repulsed when a homeless man asks me for money.” I feel the similar things when I encounter the awkwardness, depression, arrogance, etc. in others (colleagues, friends, strangers, me). We want people to be like the glowing rectangle in our pockets, I think. We want them to work. We don’t want any glitches. We hate glitches.
But glitchy, hurting people are all we have to choose from, right?
This reminds me of a beautiful photo the other day that I immediately texted to my wife. It sums us up perfectly. I can say with all sincerity, I am madly in love with my wife. She is one of the best human beings I’ve ever met and she constantly surprises me with how freaking awesome she is. She’s also really, really good looking. Okay. but, nevertheless, this photo sums us up:
So there’s a few thoughts. I know, I know, there’s little in here in way of a conclusion. That’s almost certainly because I don’t have one. So go on, I have no doubt most of you reading this are wiser and holier than me. Begin a discussion below.
How do we embrace the poverty of others? Of those we date, of those we’re courting, of those we’re married to, or those we are? 🙂
I look forward to your mind-blowing answers below.