I love the following quote I posted earlier in the week:
"When you finally discover that you are just one of the little people, don’t conclude that this makes you special." - Madeleine DelbrelI'm so not special - what a relief. But I am so one of the little people - one of many - and not special.
I'm often wrong about stuff too.
That said... If loving you is wrong, I don't want to be right... remember that song? (Percy Sledge and Luther Ingram did it best.) The premise of the song involves adultery - so in that respect it isn't a good message of course, but it occurred to me that just the title speaks to something I discovered about righteous people online.
Righteous Catholics really seem to value being right over everything else. They have the truth - they know the truth - they own the truth, and they know they are right. Being right determines who won the debate. Being right means knowing who goes to hell. Being right means knowing who is in heaven. being right means you can go online and call people liars and hypocrites and sodomites and fake Catholics and heretics and cowards and whatever else you deem them to be. It dawned on me when someone claimed to have won some sort of contest in my combox the other day. He was happy because some 'point' had been 'conceded' to him, after he insulted another commenter to the post. It was obvious that being right was far more important to this guy than being civil - and more importantly, being charitable. An anonymous righteous person thought it important to insult another person he deemed wrong about something the righteous person disagreed with.
Maybe you don't understand what I'm trying to say here...
But if loving a brother or sister is wrong, I don't want to be right.
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So many fears are, in fact, hidden: for example, the fear of our own violence. When another person does not comply with my desires, I am faced with my own powerlessness. Much of our violence is a reaction to our powerlessness. We cannot control everything. We are rendered vulnerable by all that which reveals our mortality and our frailty. And I think our greatest difficulty is admitting that the essence of our identity is that of being loved by God. Such abandonment to His love can only come at the hour of our death. Martin Luther King said that we can only stop despising others when we have come to terms with that which we despise of ourselves. That is definitely a challenging journey, and it only ends when, faced with death, we can say, "I am ready." - Jean Vanier