Catholic author and speaker Cheryl Dickow explores the warnings of Archbishop Chaput.
by Cheryl Dickow | Source: Bezalel Books
College
When my oldest son was in college he joined a fraternity and spent an obligatory year living in a frat house. Along with me, the health department and Fire Marshall were none too pleased with the living conditions.
The year that followed, when both my college-aged boys moved into their respective apartments on campus, the dirty frat house became the standard of cleanliness to which the apartments were compared. “Well, it’s better than the frat house,” became my husband’s response to dusty floors and grimy sinks. And he was right. The frat house made everything it was compared to look cleaner and brighter because there was a new, lower standard of cleanliness in our lives.
Confession
Confession is one of the Sacraments that many Catholics, including myself, don’t embrace as much as we should. But the lack of this Sacrament in our lives reminds me of the frat house; there is a real correlation between those lower standards and our own. After all, many of us have lowered our standards of daily behavior (both what we accept in ourselves and what we accept in others) to such a degree that we don’t consider ourselves “sinners.”
And we certainly try to remain politically correct and thus don’t “judge” others, either.
Archbishop Charles Chaput, years ago, delivered a speech called “Mission Possible: This Double Life Will Self-Destruct.” In it he warned against apathy towards our own behaviors and the subsequent “reinventing of Christ.” The Archbishop said:
We can't live a half-way Christianity. The organizers of tonight's event were right [those who named it ‘Mission Possible: This Double Life Will Self-Destruct’]. Every double life will inevitably self-destruct. The question then becomes: How are we going to live in this world? How can we lead a Christian life in a secular age? We can't really answer that question until we get some things straight about what it means to be a Christian. And that means first getting some things straight about Jesus Christ.
This is another one of the by-products of our secular age: we don't really quite know what to think about Jesus anymore.
A few years before he became Pope Benedict XVI, then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger wrote something that is unfortunately very true. He wrote: "Today in broad circles, even among believers, an image has prevailed of a Jesus who demands nothing, never scolds, who accepts everyone and everything, who no longer does anything but affirm us. . . . The figure is transformed from the 'Lord' (a word that is avoided) into a man who is nothing more than the advocate of all men."
We all know people -- friends or family members or both -- who think about Jesus in these terms. It's hard to avoid. Our culture has given Jesus a make-over. We've remade him in the image and likeness of secular compassion. Today he's not the Lord, the Son of God, but more like an enlightened humanist nice guy.
Essentially, it comes down to the fact that we have applied secular standards of “cleanliness” to our daily lives and have forgotten that there are eternal consequences. We’ve warmed up to Christ in a way that we no longer see Him as judge but simply as “Mr. Nice Guy.” We consider ourselves sin-free because compared to some of the really bad things that people do, well, we’re fine!
I admit that I was surprised and saddened at how many parents shrugged their shoulders and said, “That’s a frat house for ya!” They were willing to let their sons live in squalor by succumbing to the lame argument that this was “just how young guys lived.” That somehow that made it acceptable.
I realize that this is exactly what many of us have done with our own actions as well. We say we haven’t murdered anyone and that we’ve been kind to our neighbors so surely we are “okay” with God and with the world when, in reality, we ought to be very cautious about this complacency. The possibility for our own transformation vanishes.
But consider the frat house. Commitment and hard work changed the frat house. What was considered unlivable became livable. What once couldn’t pass inspection soon passed inspection with flying colors. However, this transformation required a respect of authority, a willingness to listen to what needed to be done and some serious follow-through.
In lowering our spiritual standards, we jeopardize our eternal souls. Instead of being aware and concerned, we become contented and gullible. We give way to a false sense of security that says Jesus is “a great guy” with nary a judgmental bone in His body. In making Him ‘friend’ we have forgotten that He is also judge and jury and that He will be dividing the flock – sending some to the right and others to the left.
We’ve heard it said that people only rise to the lowest expectation made of them and yet we never see it as applying to us, individually. But, like the frat house experience, I can assure you that each and every one of us easily falls into this way of thinking.
If you wonder if this lower standard is applicable in your life, ask yourself one question: When was the last time I was at confession?
College
When my oldest son was in college he joined a fraternity and spent an obligatory year living in a frat house. Along with me, the health department and Fire Marshall were none too pleased with the living conditions.
The year that followed, when both my college-aged boys moved into their respective apartments on campus, the dirty frat house became the standard of cleanliness to which the apartments were compared. “Well, it’s better than the frat house,” became my husband’s response to dusty floors and grimy sinks. And he was right. The frat house made everything it was compared to look cleaner and brighter because there was a new, lower standard of cleanliness in our lives.
Confession
Confession is one of the Sacraments that many Catholics, including myself, don’t embrace as much as we should. But the lack of this Sacrament in our lives reminds me of the frat house; there is a real correlation between those lower standards and our own. After all, many of us have lowered our standards of daily behavior (both what we accept in ourselves and what we accept in others) to such a degree that we don’t consider ourselves “sinners.”
And we certainly try to remain politically correct and thus don’t “judge” others, either.
Archbishop Charles Chaput, years ago, delivered a speech called “Mission Possible: This Double Life Will Self-Destruct.” In it he warned against apathy towards our own behaviors and the subsequent “reinventing of Christ.” The Archbishop said:
We can't live a half-way Christianity. The organizers of tonight's event were right [those who named it ‘Mission Possible: This Double Life Will Self-Destruct’]. Every double life will inevitably self-destruct. The question then becomes: How are we going to live in this world? How can we lead a Christian life in a secular age? We can't really answer that question until we get some things straight about what it means to be a Christian. And that means first getting some things straight about Jesus Christ.
This is another one of the by-products of our secular age: we don't really quite know what to think about Jesus anymore.
A few years before he became Pope Benedict XVI, then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger wrote something that is unfortunately very true. He wrote: "Today in broad circles, even among believers, an image has prevailed of a Jesus who demands nothing, never scolds, who accepts everyone and everything, who no longer does anything but affirm us. . . . The figure is transformed from the 'Lord' (a word that is avoided) into a man who is nothing more than the advocate of all men."
We all know people -- friends or family members or both -- who think about Jesus in these terms. It's hard to avoid. Our culture has given Jesus a make-over. We've remade him in the image and likeness of secular compassion. Today he's not the Lord, the Son of God, but more like an enlightened humanist nice guy.
Essentially, it comes down to the fact that we have applied secular standards of “cleanliness” to our daily lives and have forgotten that there are eternal consequences. We’ve warmed up to Christ in a way that we no longer see Him as judge but simply as “Mr. Nice Guy.” We consider ourselves sin-free because compared to some of the really bad things that people do, well, we’re fine!
I admit that I was surprised and saddened at how many parents shrugged their shoulders and said, “That’s a frat house for ya!” They were willing to let their sons live in squalor by succumbing to the lame argument that this was “just how young guys lived.” That somehow that made it acceptable.
I realize that this is exactly what many of us have done with our own actions as well. We say we haven’t murdered anyone and that we’ve been kind to our neighbors so surely we are “okay” with God and with the world when, in reality, we ought to be very cautious about this complacency. The possibility for our own transformation vanishes.
But consider the frat house. Commitment and hard work changed the frat house. What was considered unlivable became livable. What once couldn’t pass inspection soon passed inspection with flying colors. However, this transformation required a respect of authority, a willingness to listen to what needed to be done and some serious follow-through.
In lowering our spiritual standards, we jeopardize our eternal souls. Instead of being aware and concerned, we become contented and gullible. We give way to a false sense of security that says Jesus is “a great guy” with nary a judgmental bone in His body. In making Him ‘friend’ we have forgotten that He is also judge and jury and that He will be dividing the flock – sending some to the right and others to the left.
We’ve heard it said that people only rise to the lowest expectation made of them and yet we never see it as applying to us, individually. But, like the frat house experience, I can assure you that each and every one of us easily falls into this way of thinking.
If you wonder if this lower standard is applicable in your life, ask yourself one question: When was the last time I was at confession?
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