Leaving or Leading?

Sometimes I grow concerned about the numbers of people leaving the Church. I often run across them, some even before they have left. One thing they all seem to have in common is a quickness to point out some critical (to their mind’s eye) fault of the Church, or her members. And while they want to talk about these faults, they rarely want to talk about the virtues of the Church, as if (they seem to think) it is not all bad – but, hey, let me tell you how bad it is. They act as if there were nothing good about the Church, and a billion people worldwide are wrong or stupid, but THEY know the answer, to everything.

If you listen to their concerns, you get the sense that they don’t really know why they are dissatisfied with the Church. Oh, they point to this or that, but you get the feeling that you’re not hearing the whole story, like you are missing something – or they are. You get the sense that they don’t know what they want, but this isn’t it. So they are willing to wander, searching for the “right” church.

It bothers me, because I have read so much on the Catholic Church and its teachings – even those I once disagreed with. In my honest research, to understand the Church’s “silliness” on some teaching, I invariably found a sound basis for why those billion people are wise to accept the teaching that I couldn’t. As a result of my research, I found that it wasn’t the Church which was “silly”, it was me. I didn’t understand, and I was condemning without knowing the facts --- kind of like the jury who know the guy’s guilty before any of the facts of the case are in. Yes, in some instances I think I literally put the Church on trial for her teachings, and often assumed her guilty beforehand, but the facts then showed me otherwise. It’s hard to be humble and admit I was wrong, so often wrong. But like a child who assumes their parent is wrong, time and wisdom often reveals the truth. Some people don’t want to wait for time and wisdom, nor search for the truth.

The problem with many people who are leaving the Church today is not only that they don’t know what they want, the problem is that they don’t know what they have.

We read that whoever receives a little child in Your name receives You, and unless you acquire the heart of a child, you cannot enter the kingdom of God. We have to receive others as if they were children, and we must ourselves have the hearts of children. What the Scriptures are talking about here is trust. We must trust others as if they had the innocence of children, and treat them accordingly, with a gentleness and loving concern. We ourselves must trust God and his Church, as little children trust their parents. Unfortunately, so many of us lack that trust; we are like little children alright, only in the form of children going through “the terrible two’s”. We act stubborn and want our way; we don’t trust anyone, only our own feelings. We don’t want to hear explanations; we just want what we want and when we want it, and that’s --- NOW. (Sometimes as I listen to or read of some complainers, I can almost hear a faint “Waaah!” in the background.)

Like the stubborn child, for some there will only be one way back to the correct path: punishment. And unfortunately, in their stubbornness, the required punishment is often self-imposed. Like the Prodigal Son, the stubborn person often trusts no one and goes off on his own to get what he wants – many people leave the Church. Like the Prodigal Son, many find that the grass isn’t really greener somewhere else, and they come back – and they come back for no better reasons than they left – they still don’t understand. They still don’t understand the love of their Father; they still don’t understand His wisdom; they still don’t understand who or what to trust, as a good child does. Trust is earned, and it is a hard thing to earn, especially when the Church often seems to make mistakes. Sometimes we think even God does.

The “dis-trust-ers” often can accept the admonition to receive others as children – they care about so many social issues in the world, but they can’t seem to accept the fact that they too must act as little children. It’s hard to accept that, when we see ourselves as adults, we are still needy. We still need to learn more; we still need to accept that others can care for us. We need to learn how to be loved, as much as how to give love.

In thinking on this necessary innocence, this necessary acceptance of the will of God, and of this necessary humility involved with trust, I remembered the Parable of the Good Shepherd. Jesus and His Church are the Shepherds, and we are the sheep, but I also reflected on how hard it is to be a sheep. We think: “sheep”, and we think: “dumb.” We don’t want to be thought of or act as “dumb”. We read that we should hear his voice and follow, but it’s hard to just follow. We always want to say that we’ll follow “if” …. And then we put in our interpretation, or our “exception to the rule”; we’ll follow if … The “if” is a statement of our confidence in our knowledge, of our stubbornness, of our pride, of our unwillingness to trust in the Shepherd. We trust in ourselves more.

For those who have left the Church, or are thinking of it, I don’t know how to address their “ifs”. Oh, when they point to this or that teaching as wrong, I can often explain it, but usually that isn’t really the problem. It’s just an example, and if I answer that one, they’ll realize they have others. And so I feel some level of angst at my role here: I am not a Shepherd, but I don’t really feel like a sheep. Or if I am, I am concerned about my fellow-sheep. And the parable doesn’t really define the role I believe I’ve been given.

So I’ve made up a role for myself.

Unless you become as a child …, Lord, I want to become even less than that. Shepherd of us all, I wish to be as Your sheepdog. I want to help; I want to follow Your will. Help me to help You guide the sheep that You place before me, whether it be one or many. Train me, so that following Your will becomes instinct for me, and any necessary instructions become only a nod, a wink, or a quick pointing of Your finger, which I’ll understand.

Send me after the lost one; let me nip at their heel and bring them back, whether they want to or not. I’ll try not to be anxious about their fate; I’ll trust You to love them and convince them to stay in your flock. Feed me with scraps from Your table, and perhaps an occasional bone to show me You love me. Punish me if necessary; toss me out into the cold if I break Your rules. But, O Lord, let me follow You. I want do Your will.

I think this is an image of my life’s purpose that I can live with, like a sheepdog: learning what I am to do, doing it with care and love for each individual, and trusting and loving my Teacher. I think that will bring me happiness. I can still have my bit of individuality, my stubbornness, my wanting to do things my way, but I can temper them with what I am taught, so that my self-desires also merge with the desires of my master, and we can work together as a team. If I don’t like how things are going, I don’t have to leave, I just have to learn. To learn to do and understand what I was created to be, to learn and understand His instructions, and to learn to be a witness to His truth and love to all I meet.

The next time you meet someone who wants to trash a teaching of the Church, or you are tempted to do it yourself, remember the sheepdog that you also are called to be. Nip at the heel of the critic, not trying to convince them of anything, but just steering them back towards the flock – trust the Shepherd to teach them. And if you are tempted to stray, remember the flock and what we are all called to be, in unity. Don’t forget the admonishments in Scripture or those of the great saints regarding “Woe to those who would lead my flock astray.” Don’t leave or encourage others to leave, learn and encourage others to learn.

Some things may seem hard for us to understand or bear at times, but remember when it was said to Jesus: But this is a hard thing, and afterwards many were no longer his followers And He then looked at his disciples and said: Will you leave me, too?

Have faith, my friends, so that in all our troubles we can always say with confidence: My Jesus, I trust in You.