"Linda the Good"

JMJ


So yesterday, in the Gospel reading was Jesus saying this:  "Why do you call me 'good'?  No one is good, except God alone." (Mark 10:18)  I think about this passage quite a bit. 

Most of us think we are pretty "good" people.  Most people don't murder or commit violent crimes, most of us are not predatory or out and out psychopaths.  So, we rationalize,  compared to Hannibal Lecter or Hitler, we are OK.

I've always been "nice."  I'm a natural people pleaser, I like it when people around me are comfortable and happy and I will work help that come about.  I have held various jobs helping people throughout my life: home health aide/housekeeper, instructor for developmentally disabled people, behavior specialist and mobile therapist with children and stay at home mom/home schooling mom. I have a Master's Degree in Counseling Psychology.  I'll talk to just about anyone about just about anything.

But does this mean I'm good?

One time my ex husband, in frustration with me, told me I had an idea of myself as "Linda the Good."  My current husband has told me I'm a "sympathetic character."   So I think when I disagreed with these people, perhaps I was even wrong or dreadfully wrong about some issue or another regarding them, they referred to this trait of "goodness" in me.  My ex said it as a title..."Linda The Good," and my husband referred to the concept more as a perception of others of me. 

Both of these observations lead me to examine myself in those terms.  Did I really perceive myself as "Linda the Good"?

We all want to put our best face forward.  We generally care what others think of us, we want to be seen in a positive light, etc.  Usually, if we are honest with ourselves, we have enough insight to know that the mask is just that, a mask.  Behind that best face we do not have an interior that is brimming with unicorns and rainbows and unconditional love.  We all experience moments of anger and hatred of ourselves and others.  We all have thoughts that are sick at times, disordered. 

Perhaps in a backlash, some people today revel in "telling it like it is."  This usually means being brutally honest about other's behaviors and not our own.  When someone is brash and abrasive, they often defend that behavior by waving the flag of "keeping it real."  I find it interesting to see memes on the net declaring an unapologetic defense of using profanity as if it's somehow "more real" to speak using the F bomb than it is to not use it.  So it seems to be an embracing of the anger, the sick thoughts.  I've seen people defending this by asserting that words "only have the hurt we ascribe to them" and to use words like "nigger"  or "retard"  frequently will take the power away from them. There is also a school of thought that says fantasy somehow diffuses sickness.  By letting these visions out and giving voice to them we somehow mitigate their power.

I don't know about all that.  It seems like a glorification to me.  And now I have to be brutally honest, "telling it like it is" is all too often, in my opinion, used as a license to be a jerk. 

I have dark thoughts.  I have dark moments.  I have moments where anger takes over.  And it does not jibe well with my vision of self.  So my ex was onto something.  If you read the lives of the saints, some very great people of God also had dark moments.  St Paul persecuted Christians.  David was an adulterer and murderer, yet he was close to God.  St Francis was a rich spoiled boy. 

The key here to the transformation of those people (and to us all) is Jesus.

One thing that distinguishes a saint is humility.  A realization that no matter how mighty one is in this world, we are the lowest of the low before our Lord.  And that if left alone to our own devices or to rely simply on our own strength, we will fall into error.  Saints understand, in a deep and personal way, who they are in relation to God.

I can play at being good.  I can pretend to myself that all my being "nice" means that I am better than others, that I am not in need of help.  And therein lies the danger!  If I think I am "good" what do I need God for?

Not too long ago, I was in Mass and I heard the Ten Commandments read.  As I sat there in the pew, I was convicted in my heart.  I realized that in one way or another, I have broken each commandment, either outright or in spirit.   Every. Single. One.   Yes, even the "You Shall Not Kill" one.  I saw in that moment that I had voted for people who were pro choice.  I justified this, even after I became pro life myself, by saying that politicians don't really care about that issue---if they did, more would have been done in that area.  I still believe that to be true. (I don't have much hope in politics or politicians)  But I realized that *I* was complicit.  I felt it deeply, too.  

So here I am.  "Linda the Good" convicted in my heart.  A fraud.  A sham.  Everything I aspire to be I have failed at being.    It was a good thing I was at Mass, in front of the Blessed Sacrament because I needed the strength of it at that moment.  God gave me insight into myself.  I understood, personally, what Jesus meant when he said, "Why do you call me good?  No one is good but God alone."  And He was there for me.  He was ready to forgive me. 

I know that I am not good.  Not even close.  Anything I do that might be considered "good" is a result of my simply stepping out of the way and letting God work.  He is responsible for every good thing I've ever done or will do.  I can do nothing without his help, except make a mess.  So I have to keep an interior focus on my heart, to make sure that I keep God front and center.  If I don't I might look in the mirror, lose my humility, and believe that it comes from me.   God is with me, He holds my hand.  As long as I hold on, He can work through me, because God is, indeed, GOOD.