I consider myself the world’s foremost authority on my own bad habits. To name a few, I enjoy cigars, I definitely don’t get as much sleep as I should, I loathe all non-competitive exercise (so I don’t get any), and left to my own devices, I would probably eat enough nutty bars to put me into a coma. But perhaps worse than any of these is my
propensity to hold onto grudges. My exaggerated sense of justice has caused me to not so silently log away every injustice over the course of my life and hold onto it for the sake of proving how everyone has wronged me in every way imaginable. From the time my brother threw my lucky buffalo nickel out the car window to every skirmish with various downtown offices, I sometimes think that the most prominent drive in my life is for vengeance masquerading as justice. Truth be told, I sometimes watch YouTube videos of umpires blowing calls just to get myself fired up, and if that’s not a sickness, I don’t know what is.

The first reading this week is one of my favorites in the entire lectionary cycle. The entire book of Sirach is filled with wisdom, but the gem this week is “Could anyone nourish anger against another and expect healing from the LORD?” It is a simple, pithy reminder of the constantly forgotten reality that the anger and frustration we hold against others is a poison that prevents us to living the life of Grace that God wants for us. There are a thousand proverbs on anger, and maybe even more motivational speakers who make a living imploring people to forgive others and become whole again by doing so. Ultimately, no one really wants to be angry, so why is it so hard to move on from the past and heal?

Like many other facets of the spiritual life, it boils down to a lack of trust in God’s providence. There is a selfishness hardwired into our fallen human nature that tells us that if we don’t stand up for ourselves and look out for number one, then no one else will. Even if that is true from an earthly perspective (and it’s probably not, for what it’s worth) it is certainly not true when it comes to our relationship with God. We are obliged to seek
justice for ourselves and others, but the refusal to let go of the bitterness and anger of the past only hurts us. No true justice was ever born from bitter resentment. It might motivate us, or stir us out of passivity, but real change comes from conversion
of the heart and wanting what is best for our fellow man, not wanting everyone to suffer as we have suffered.
 
My temperament does not allow for the quick and easy relinquishing of past wounds, and I suspect it will never be something for which I am known. But it is a flaw that I repeatedly bring to confession and for which I continue to ask God’s healing.
I don’t know the individual wounds and struggles each of you has, nor do I know exactly where you are in dealing with them. Maybe it’s too soon to face and overcome them. Maybe bringing them to confession and asking for God’s healing is the most you can manage right now. But whatever these crosses are for you and your loved ones, one thing is absolutely certain: Jesus wants to carry them with you. He became man to carry the weight of our sins and the sins of the world, but He won’t force Himself into that aspect of our lives. We have to invite Him, and then be prepared to rise to the challenge of letting go of the resentment that makes healing impossible. It is a tall order, but it’s the only way to move past some of the most difficult obstacles to holiness, and we can rest assured that He will walk that path with us.
 
Prayers always,
Fr. McC