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24 Oct 2010 - Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

The critic who lives in my brain gives me very little peace. She sits in constant judgment of the people and situations I encounter each day. When I am rested and spiritually restored, I can quiet the drone of commentary, but the more stressed and exhausted I am, the more I find myself with little patience or kindness for anyone who crosses my path: "Could this store clerk be any slower"; "If that guy brags once more about how smart he is, I'm going to slap him"; "Why doesn't that woman get her finances in order instead of sponging off her friends"; "I would never let my child act like such a brat." And the list of awful thoughts goes on and on until I finally end up despising myself and the world around me. Then I go to church and see humanity in all its glory and frailty spread out before me, and I feel ashamed. I know there are self-righteous jerks sitting in the pew next to truly kind and forgiving souls, but the problem is no one really knows who is who, so we all end up shaking hands and wishing one another peace. I wish I didn't need to be called back to the table each week to be reminded of my unworthiness, but I take comfort in knowing that I am not alone in my sinfulness nor my piety, my arrogance nor my humility. And at the end of the day, the best we can do is say, "Peace" to one another and ask our critics to be quiet.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

Humility criticism sinfulness arrogance Peace

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Homily stories

27 Oct 2019 - Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

The critic who lives in my brain gives me very little peace. She sits in constant judgment of the people and situations I encounter each day. When I am rested and spiritually restored, I can quiet the drone of commentary, but the more stressed and exhausted I am, the more I find myself with little patience or kindness for anyone who crosses my path: “Could this store clerk be any slower”; “If that guy brags once more about how smart he is, I’m going to slap him”; “Why doesn’t that woman get her finances in order instead of sponging off her friends”; “I would never let my child act like such a brat.” And the list of awful thoughts goes on and on until I finally end up despising myself and the world around me. Then I go to church and see humanity in all its glory and frailty spread out before me, and I feel ashamed. I know there are self-righteous jerks sitting in the pew next to truly kind and forgiving souls, but the problem is no one really knows who is who, so we all end up shaking hands and wishing one another peace. I wish I didn’t need to be called back to the table each week to be reminded of my unworthiness, but I take comfort in knowing that I am not alone in my sinfulness nor my piety, my arrogance nor my humility. And at the end of the day, the best we can do is say, “Peace” to one another and ask our critics to be quiet.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

judgment criticism

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Featured Exploring the Word

07 July 2024 - Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

"Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account,” Jesus famously taught in his Sermon on the Mount. And he should know, because Jesus faced precisely this kind of treatment at his debut in Nazareth. Folks didn’t simply disapprove of his teaching. They questioned his credentials and even his paternity (being called the “son of Mary” was irregular in a land where your father’s lineage was paramount). In fact, the opposition got rather physical, if you include nearly being hurled off a cliff at the end of the lesson. When we are criticized, rightly or wrongly, it rarely feels like a blessing. Even persecution for righteousness’ sake—a very specific kind of rejection—is not something most of us are eager to achieve. We want approval, not condemnation. We seek support and encouragement, a pat on the back, and even a reward when possible. As children a cookie would do. Later on the keys to the car said it better. In adulthood we’re usually looking for more cash in the envelope. What we really don’t expect or desire, when we say or do the right thing, is to be defamed for it. Saint Paul can have his angel of Satan to beat him, and if it makes him a more noble character, more power to him. Most of us would prefer to keep that particular monkey off our backs. If I had to wrestle with an angel all night long as Jacob did, I may wind up wiser and better for it. But I’d still opt out of the experience if I could, in exchange for a good night’s rest. Ezekiel was advised at the start of his prophetic ministry that being on God’s payroll is not a popularity contest: It’s the rebellious nation that needs a prophet, not a saintly and compliant crew. Telling the truth, whether professionally or in the bosom of our families, is rarely a thing for which we’ll be thanked. Having admitted all of that, I also must admit that Jesus is absolutely right—as usual. Although no one has questioned my paternity yet, the criticism I do regularly receive from coworkers, friends, family members, and the occasional opposition leader can be a blessing if I am willing to receive it as one. It does remind me, as Paul says, that my weakness reveals the strength of Christ—that such a one as I could do any good at all is a minor miracle! Criticism keeps me humble, provides the opportunity for an examination of conscience (sometimes the negative report is quite accurate), exercises my sense of humor, and reminds me that the good I do isn’t about me; it’s meant to glorify God. Related scripture links Calls to prophesy: Exod. 3:4-14; 1 Sam. 3:1-10; Isa. 6:1-10; Jer.1:4-10; Jon. 1:1-3 Who’s responsible for the message: Ezek. 3:17-21 God’s Word is alive: Heb. 4:12-13 Nothing but Christ crucified: 1 Cor. 2:1-5 Catechism links Omnipotence: CCC 268-274; 1508 Sickness and faith: CCC 1500-1510 Adapted from a previously published Exploring the word.

Authors Alice Camille

criticism persecution truth telling

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