do not give into the weaponization of division

Memorial of Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini, Virgin
Lectionary: 493

Titus 3:1-7
Psalm 23:1-6
Luke 17:11-19

I can’t say that I am particularly enamored of first reading today. The first verse reminding the people “to be under the control of magistrates and authorities, to be obedient” struck a raw nerve with me particularly in light of how much we as a country have wrestled with what kind of leader we want and how we expect our government to serve “we the people”.

The author of the letter to Titus has a thing for keeping the peace in terms of the law and the household. The author, who wrote in the Apostle Paul’s name, insists that everyone play their part and dutifully fulfill their roles and responsibilities. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it becomes a problem when those roles and responsibilities are shaped by an ideology that grants some people their full human dignity while simultaneously denying it for others.

Though a member of the Christian community, the author of the letter to Titus sometimes reflects more the society around him, than the life of following Jesus the Christ. This particular section of his letter comes on the heels of his exhortations to “older women” that they be

reverent in their behavior, not slanderers, not addicted to drink, teaching what is good so that they may train younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, chaste, good homemakers under the control of their husbands, so that the word of God may not be discredited. (Titus 2:3-5)

“Duties for older and younger men are stated, but their duties are not connected to the household: their behavior to their wives and children is not mentioned.” (Joanna Dewey, “Titus” in Women’s Bible Commentary, 604) Similarly, while slaves are exhorted to obey their masters, there is no mention of the responsibilities of the masters in how to treat people who are enslaved. (Titus 2:9-10)

On the one hand, I can’t blame the author of Titus for reaffirming the status quo. Nobody wants mayhem. Nobody wants mass chaos. (The author doesn’t yet see how the status quo is also responsible for dehumanizing women and enslaved persons.)

On the other hand, the author of Titus knows better. He’s the same guy who eloquently calls people to “be peaceable, considerate, exercising all graciousness toward everyone.” And it is Titus who recognizes that we know how to be this way because of the mercy, “kindness and generous love of God”. (3:4-5)

In the new Christian communities, not only women and enslaved persons but lepers, strangers and other “normal candidates” for discrimination are given their full dignity and respect, at least as much as could be expressed at that time and place in history. Christians saw in Jesus the mercy, kindness and generous love of God extended to everyone. They also saw in Jesus one who did not discriminate based on gender, religion, age, politics, or cultural or social norms.

Reading between the lines, we see in the author of Titus a person still very much struggling to work out how everything fits together how to integrate his newfound life in Jesus and his teachings in a world that looked at values, roles and responsibilities, leadership, governance, and human dignity from a very different framework. Further, as a Christian leader, the author of Titus likely felt under pressure to conform to “the control of magistrates and authorities” so as not to cause waves for the newly-established Christian community.

His struggle was real.

And our struggle today is real too.

We live in a nation that is divided, vehemently divided. And some of our “magistrates and authorities” – as well as anyone with a fancy enough soap box – are weaponizing that divide and turning kin against one another.

We’ve got to sidestep this weaponization and not give into making enemies of our own kin, even in the name of the gospel. What do we choose to say, to do about the politics of our time from our rootedness in the mercy, kindness and generous love of God? How do we align ourselves with those who are discriminated against today (which may likely be ourselves) and at the same time reach out peaceably to our kin who would believe differently? How do we know when to angrily overturn the tables or turn the other cheek?

This is a time for deep discernment, my friends, personally and together as a community of faith.

There is work to be done.

As Jesus says to the Samaritan who was made clean from leprosy in today’s Gospel (Luke 17:19)

“Stand up and go;
your faith has saved you.”

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image : adapted from Santiago Gaughan / The Cougar

on humility

I do not know whether I have put this clearly; self-knowledge is of such consequence that I would not have you careless of it, though you may be lifted to heaven in prayer, because while on earth nothing is more needful than humility. Therefore, I repeat, not only a good way, but the best of all ways, is to endeavor to enter first by the room where humility is practiced, which is far better than at once rushing on to the others.

Teresa de Ávila, Interior Castle 1.2.10

I thought I had a good grasp on what humility means. I had understood humility to mean that icky feely when one is embarrassed or ashamed of something that they’ve done. Mortified.

“It’s an opportunity to learn the virtue of humility”, they say. No wonder I’ve always been so resistant to humility.

As it happens, this is not humility at all. It’s humiliation. It’s an understandable misunderstanding. Humiliation and humility share the same etymology. They come from the Latin word humilis meaning “low”.

Humiliation is a sucker punch to the gut. It hurts. It can affect one’s self identity and confidence, and over time, it can can lead to trauma. Humiliation does not make us grow stronger, and it most certainly is not a pathway to the virtue of humility. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.

Humility is another creature altogether, and I am pleased to make its acquaintance. Teresa de Ávila says that it essential for “while on earth”, and I’m beginning to understand what she means.

I’ve been in Spain now for a couple weeks and also spent some time in Portugal. My castellano – “castilian” is the official language of Spain but there are many languages of Spain including euskara, catalan, and gallego) – is beginner level and my portugués is nearly non-existent. Although english is widely understood throughout the world, it’s not spoken by everyone. I am very conscious of using the local language as a matter of respect and appropriateness. I am a guest and not entitled to others’ deference to my language and the customs of my culture. It is not easy, but I would have it no other way. I’ve had many (MANY) missteps and am grateful for people’s patience. I’ve even had the occasional on-the-spot lesson by generous locals who take the time to help me learn.

I have been realizing that what I really need is to find a space of humility within myself so that I can have more openness to that which is beyond me. A space of humility. Spaciousness. Humility is a kind of pause that recognizes my “me-ness”(self-knowledge) and our “we-ness”. This “we-ness” is about the “more-ness” of any and every experience. I am connected to this people, this patch of earth, this local custom, this typical food, this way of being no matter how much “strange-ness” I or others may feel.

That’s a lot of “-ness” but it’s the best way I can communicate how it feels. “Ness-ness” leaves room for the gracious unknown, the mystery of being, experiencing, and relating. And humility is the doorway to this room, this spaciousness.

It’s a different world when one strives for humility. Living within a different language, culture, and geography for even this short time gives me a concrete and practical example of the humility necessary to be truly open and curious and even surprised. The missteps sting at times, but I am finding my way of being “me” and “we”. I have mastered saying Quisiera un cafe con leche, por favor (“I would like a latte, please”). I am becoming proficient at public transportation by way of metros, buses, tranvías, funiculares, and even a teleférico! These are small things, but they show me a way to enter in, to be part of the larger community and world.

I’m curious to see how humility will continue to unfold in my life – in how I am with myself, in how I perceive things, in relationships, and in pursuit of my passions.

I am also curious to know how you have experienced humility. How have you practiced humility? What does it mean for you?

Image: Photo of three people praying at the
Buddha Tooth Relic Temple, Singapore, by Lily Banse on Unsplash