Overview:

Wednesday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time

A Reflection for Wednesday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time

Blessed are you when people hate you, 
and when they exclude and insult you, 
and denounce your name as evil 
on account of the Son of Man.

Find today’s readings here.

Scripture can be intoxicating. 

Sometimes, I feel tempted to distort Jesus’ words, to hear them as though they were spoken exclusively for me. While our relationship with God is eminently special and personal, it is easy to be prideful and forget that God extends the Gospel message to all of humanity. We are special, but not unique, at least in this sense. 

I have definitely experienced a sort of “main character” conceit before. It arises in the most banal settings: sitting in Labor Day traffic and getting angry that everyone else’s crowding presence and bad driving is grossly inconveniencing you, the most important, self-actualized and best driver on the road.

We should be cautious not to read Scripture as though we are the “main character.” Striking the right balance between appreciating our special relationship with God and recognizing others’ equally special relationships is not always easy, but Jesus calls us to do so. Moreover, failing to do so can distort our own relationship with Him.

Take today’s reading. We may carry a latent assumption into our reading of the Beatitudes that, as Catholics, we are the “blessed.” Similarly, I often catch myself interpreting world events, entertainment media or even everyday interactions as if I am, indeed, at the center of the story. It is tempting to revel in the image of oneself as the hated, the excluded, the insulted tragic hero at the heart of an imagined narrative finding vindication in the words of Christ—the solipsistic gratification of being right while indulging a victim complex.

Of course, Jesus’ words are a powerful affirmation for the truly persecuted, and everyone inevitably experiences some level of injustice at some point. This passage speaks to the truth that the oppressor, along with the oppressed, ultimately suffers the consequences of entering into a distorted dynamic with their fellow man, whether in this life or the next. 

Still, we should be wary of a tendency to think of ourselves as protagonists and recognize how we may put others in the position of the “Blessed.”

We should not strive to be seen as victims because of our faith. This message has ramifications for everyday interactions, but more concretely, as Catholics, we should be wary of narratives that indulge an image of an evil, secular world constantly at odds with the Kingdom of God, our Kingdom of God. 

There is a strange desire to equate ourselves with knightly crusaders or early Christian martyrs, to think that we cleanly fall into the camp of the “Blessed” mentioned in Luke’s Gospel. However, the reality of our relationship to power is far more complicated. 

As sinful and imperfect people, we should heed the “woes” included in Luke’s Beatitudes as well. It is worth remembering that in the United States, Catholics are demographically overrepresented in Congress and on the Supreme Court. American Catholics do not live under Nero.

Obviously, having to say “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” at the winter company party is not comparable—in kind or degree—to the stoning of St. Sebastian. But in practice, it can be internally difficult to distinguish real from perceived victimization. We should not blame ourselves for sins or situations that are not our doing and recognize oppressive dynamics where they occur. As always, it is best to approach such situations and others navigating them, with grace.

St. Paul provides a command for us to take away in the aptly paired first reading for today: “Stop lying to one another, since you have taken off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self.” Let us heed his words and take off the “main character” self.

Edward Desciak is an O'Hare Fellow at America Media.