I suppose I could also have added Jews, feminists, and the NAACP to the list, but I was looking for a particularly poignant contrast. You see, I happened – for no clear reason – to wander onto the Catholic League’s website, and realized what it was that had been bothering me about Bill Donohue and his crew for so long.
The stated purpose of the League is to “[monitor] the culture, acting as a watchdog agency and defender of the civil rights of all Catholics.” When I lived at home and was a younger, less individual sort of fellow, I read their newsletter avidly. The chronicling of not just legitimate civil discrimination, but the chronic “Catholic baiting” of private individuals and corporations (not to mention the response measures of the League in regards to each situation) were honestly gripping reading. I felt fairly passionately that nobody had any good right or reason to denigrate my Faith – and, by extension, me. I felt that it was not only permissible, but appropriate and even necessary to fight back.
But as I grew up, certain things started to pop up in my mind that made me wonder. Christ was fairly explicit with His followers that the world would hate them, revile them, and persecute them on account of their faith in Him. Whether this takes the form of lions being fed on a diet of “Christians’n'Bits” or that of corruption in the hierarchy, marauding Turks, psychotic Protestants, or raging secularists, it makes little difference. The net result is that the Church, as the Bride and Body of Christ, is by definition going to be the object of lies, hatred, and abuse until such time as God sees fit to set everything right.
The warning about the hating was not the only think that the Good Lord mentioned, however. There was, I swear, something about turning the other cheek. I think that Bill Donohue would argue that the Lord’s command does not constitute a requirement that we be doormats, and I agree. If somebody wants to spread, for example, utter and complete lies about Pius XII and the Nazis, then they will have me to deal with. But there’s a difference between correcting error, and for example, getting pissed of that somebody composed an “artistic piece” of a man being sodomized with a crucifix.
What am I saying, here? Am I saying that sacrilegious depictions of holy objects aren’t worth our trouble? Absolutely not. It’s generally all I can do to not fly off the handle when I hear about stuff like that. And do I think that there’s a discriminatory taint to the way people treat Catholics versus other groups? Well let me put it this way – when was the last time you heard of a publicly-displayed “artistic” composition of a Jew being sodomized by a pig, or an African-American being sodomized by a bucket of KFC? But at the same time, nobody ever warned the Jews that they were being set up to catch flack for the rest of history; neither were the Africans put on notice. As much as it may sound pompous, as far as I’m concerned, Catholics are held to a higher standard. We aren’t supposed to be complaining about every crackpot with delusions of profundity who decides to bait us with something offensive. In all honesty, I think a lot of the reason that said crackpots keep doing stuff that offends us is because they know that people like the Catholic League will give them free publicity. I highly doubt that the fellow I mentioned above would have gotten the AP to cover his “art” if the Catholic League hadn’t dropped out of the sky and started making noise about the whole affair.
So, what exactly do conservative Catholics and homosexuals have in common? Two words: persecution complex. Regardless of what you think of either group, the flack that they take comes from two main sources. The first source is comprised of those who are ideologically or intellectually opposed to their opponents’ worldview. The second are people who just seem to need someone to hate. Against the first group, one can only wield the merits of one’s position – however strong or weak it might be. Against the other group, there is no defense. You can keep them from violence in most cases through legislation, but you cannot change their minds, and you cannot keep them from talking. To try to fight that is just silly.
The need to try to fight this second group is a symptom of a persecution complex; and persecution complexes are never healthy. They can range from seeing enemies behind every tree and shrub – with the corresponding need to fight them – or the warped idea that the entire world is conspiring to ruin one’s life. I tend to side with Dr. Dennis Leary on this matter:
This goes for me, you, and everybody else. Life is not a cake walk, and even when it seems as if everyone else around you is getting what they want, I’m willing to bet that the real problem is that you’re not looking hard enough. Your friend may have the job he’s always wanted, but his family situation may be rough below the surface. Maybe a marriage is on the rocks. Maybe a relative is dying of cancer. Trust me, there’s always something.
As a Catholic, I am told that the way I should view my life is as a path to God. There are side roads, blind spots, and pitfalls, but as long as I approach things prayerfully and with faith, then I will reach my final destination safe and sound. This same perspective applies whether you are a single individual or a group dedicated to the defense of the Church. The upshot: self-pity never gets you anywhere in the long run, and in the short term it only impedes you getting where you need to go.
I didn’t always think this way. I used to be far, far more pessimistic about life, the universe, and everything. It wasn’t until I realized that there were two sides to every situation – that everything that happened was part of God’s plan, and that every single thing that happens to me is an opportunity for me to grow in sanctity – that I felt as if I could actually deal with this thing called life. It isn’t always easy. I’m plagued almost constantly by doubts, concerns, and metaphorical curve balls. But I find that the anecdotal advice given by St. Thomas Aquinas regarding temptations to impurity applies equally well to temptations to doubt and despair: deny them battle, and you end up winning. The important thing is that whatever things look like, your doubts are never, ever stronger than you are.
I don’t care whether you’re a Catholic angry about a crucifix up someone else’s ass, a homosexual who feels “put down,” or just a regular old person who’s depressed about where their life is headed. Obsession goes nowhere. Move along.
Filed under: Catholicism, depression, epic rant, real life
