“What’s wrong with the Church?” a reporter once asked Mother Teresa. Without hesitation — and with a wide smile — she replied, “You and me.”
No doubt he expected a harsh diatribe about the glaring flaws in Christianity, but she was slow to judge — and quick to forgive.
That virtue of forgiveness could help heal our nation, where many people are at each other’s throats, and spur our country to live up to its noble name — the United States — instead of disintegrating into the red and blue states.
The violence that erupted on Inauguration Day, the cruel tweets about President Donald Trump’s family — and the lingering battle about which lives really matter — signify a stubborn refusal to mend differences.
On the personal level, some people explode into a gigantic outburst when they get offended, while others are the slow-simmer type.
I fall into the latter category, since it takes me a while to mull over whatever bothered me — and sometimes, that simmer erupts into a full boil.
For example, a priest said something in a sermon that ruffled my proverbial feathers. As the days went on, I started brooding over the incident — and pretty soon I was seriously steamed.
Obviously, I could have discussed the matter with him, but instead I avoided him for a while.
Finally, in a big “duh” moment, I realized that, as a Christian, I was being called to forgive him — not hold a grudge.
Over the years, I’ve done my share of spouting off angrily about what’s wrong with the Church, in my less than humble opinion. I wasn’t hesitant to criticize the liturgy, sermons, pastors — and, yes, the pope.
But what a huge waste of time anger is! We have limited days on this planet, so why squander them raging over what so-and-so said — or did?
Of course, there’s a place for reasoned discourse and calm discussions, but generally, fury produces more of the same.
True, Jesus got angry about the money changers in the temple, but that was a serious wrong screaming to be righted.
That instance is powerfully overshadowed by his radical act of forgiveness, after he was tortured and then nailed to a cross — when he said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Jesus said we get to heaven through a “narrow gate” — and maybe that’s because those burdened with heavy grudges will have too much baggage to fit through.
Asked how often we should forgive, he came up with a startling figure — not seven times, but 70 times seven — which suggests forgiveness has no bounds.
And whom should we pardon? Competitors at work, annoying politicians, bothersome ministers, people whose skin is a different shade from ours — and don’t forget folks wearing blue — or red — T-shirts.
As the old song goes, I’ve seen life from “both sides now” over the years — and have gotten into heated arguments about what’s wrong with the world. Anger, unfortunately, solves nothing — and shouting and cursing can escalate into all-out war.
We needn’t pardon people face to face, nor in a text message. We can mend fences with many so-called enemies by simply praying for them.
As Mother Teresa put it, “Forgive others not because they deserve forgiveness, but because you deserve peace.” And may I add — so does our nation.
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