When Scott became a Catholic in 1999 he was met with a lot of critics. Many of his friends and family were not happy to have him cross the Tiber into papism.
So, you’ve become a Catholic?” they would ask, kind of furrowing a brow and smirking. I became used to waiting while he offered opportunities to talk about the reasons for his decision. He would often say to them that if they had something true to say to him he wanted to hear it. Anything true they had to offer, he was willing to receive.
I had a problem with this. To me, it sounded like he still had some small bit of doubt, like there was some possibility he had missed something and they might talk him out of his crazy choice to convert. When I asked him about it, he made it clear that truth should be the end goal of all Catholics. He was not intimidated, or concerned about facing the truth, and never felt threatened. He sincerely did want anything true that any other human could offer him.
I noticed that this was not usually the case with those who confronted him. They did not have the demeanour of people seeking truth. They wanted to prove him wrong, and when they didn’t they walked away. Truth was secondary, or relative, or irrelevant.
I think this is the issue of our day, that truth is seen as negotiable. I read once that Catholics care more about words than anyone else. It was an old saying, and I don’t feel great confidence that it applies generally anymore, but the point was that Catholics cared about the gritty details, the proper expression, the exact meaning of things, because truth came as a revelation, from outside of ourselves. Truth, in its smallest details, mattered and deserved thoughtful recollection.
As a writer I experience this when I’m trying to express something I feel to be important. There might be an obvious word to describe some particular feeling. I will sit silently, waiting for it to come to me. Scott will offer a few suggestions, but he knows that likely they won’t work. There is one true word to describe the thought I want to share. And it matters. When we share something of ourselves we want it to be true. I assume the same goes when God seeks to share with us.
At the same time, I have discovered how easy it is to be untruthful, without even thinking about it. Have you ever deliberately committed to not saying or doing anything untruthful, and then been shocked to see how hard it is to follow through?
The feast of Pentecost approaches, and many, including my son, are preparing to be confirmed. I think of Pentecost as the feast of truth. Our Lord told the disciples, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” (Jn 16). The apostles’ minds were opened and filled with the Holy Spirit to proclaim the truth to all peoples. They were given this gift to protect, preserve, and share the love of God.
The apostles, and we, received the gifts of the Holy Spirit as we were confirmed: knowledge, wisdom, understanding, counsel, piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord. Each of these gifts has truth as its end.
Some, emboldened with the spirit of the age, try to speak for God, asking, “Do you really think that God has nothing more important to care about than … (fill in the blank)?” Not surprisingly, this thing that God should be too busy to care about is often some vice the person wishes to excuse.
Yes, God has nothing more important to care about than truth. In fact, he is truth. God would not start a Church if truth did not matter. He would not gift his people with knowledge, wisdom, and understanding if there were no absolutes to know, understand, and judge.
If God intended that all religions be true, or that his word could be interpreted at will, he would not have promised to guide one Church into truth and to keep it from error. He would not have sent his son to die for a Church that was actually just one option of many. He would not have taught, “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all” if the Church founded on Pentecost was just another denomination.
Our Church is not a denomination, it is the bride of Christ.
Truths are likely to offend. But God’s words are not to be trifled with. My truth, your truth, his truth, these sad little catchphrases scare us into allowing ridiculous lies to permeate our culture, and our children’s schools. There are some so utterly ridiculous and yet they work to change what it means to be human, to be family, a community, children of God.
I can understand why the disciples were hiding in the upper room. They knew something, Someone, so very necessary, and yet they also knew that they would be rejected for speaking of it. Without the gift of fortitude they just hid.
If truth did not matter God would have left them hiding. Instead, he set them apart and set them free to change the world.
It’s a beautiful truth. As a good Father, giving only good things to his children, he sets us apart and sets us free as well. He won’t leave us hiding.
