I Desire Mercy

Gospel reflection Wednesday, June 21, 2023

Today’s Gospel brings back many childhood memories for me:

Jesus said to his disciples:
"Take care not to perform righteous deeds
in order that people may see them;
otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father.
When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you,
as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets
to win the praise of others.
Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward.
But when you give alms,
do not let your left hand know what your right is doing,
so that your almsgiving may be secret.
And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

"When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites,
who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners
so that others may see them.
Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward.
But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door,
and pray to your Father in secret.
And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

"When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites.
They neglect their appearance,
so that they may appear to others to be fasting.
Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward.
But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face,
so that you may not appear to others to be fasting,
except to your Father who is hidden.
And your Father who sees what is hidden will repay you."
- Mt 6:1-6, 16-18

There is a perception among many that those of us from the rural American South are very evangelical. While it is true that the South, once called the “Bible Belt” is the heart of evangelical Protestantism, the more charismatic aspects of this movement are a relatively recent phenomenon. When I was a kid, the Pentecostal and Church of God denominations were rather exuberant in their worship. But, what you might call the mainline Protestant denominations were certainly not. The Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian churches in which I grew up were quiet, reverent and traditional.

There was no modern “praise and worship” music. The hymnals were old and the hymns sung were very beautiful. Prayer was quiet and personal. People didn’t wave their hands in the air or jump up and down. Many families even had the tradition of taking the above verse a bit to the extreme…. in my great grandparent’s generation, it was very common to have a prayer closet in the home. This was simply a quiet room where one went for prayer and Bible study. While most members of any given church would be willing and pleased to share their faith with a stranger and say a prayer for them, religion was never showy. Tent revivals were an exception, when outward displays of emotional prayer were allowed… but most of the older folks would whisper quietly that “_______ would probably be right back to drinkin’ and runnin’ around on his wife next week.” They would not say that it was all for show or insincere, but they knew human nature well enough not to put a lot of stock in emotional public displays. Religion was personal and private.

An impetus in my conversion was how uncomfortable I was with the charismatic aspects of religious worship when I attended a major Southern Baptist University. While I understand that there are charismatic Catholics, honestly such practices make me extremely uncomfortable - perhaps my heritage is to blame as the mix of Celtic, English and French blood perhaps leads to a somewhat stoic nature. I am not judging it, but it is not for me. At the college, I was called “hard hearted” and arrogant. Neither was true. But, I certainly was vocal about my utter disdain for the modern music. I recall complaining once that you could take any pop song and replace the word “baby” with Jesus and call it “praise and worship.” Perhaps I do lack a certain level of subtlety that sometimes leads to offence….

But, now I want to tell you a story about quiet charity that made a big impression on me.

My grandfather was a powerful man. He came from an “old family.” Actually, it seems we were related to a signer of the Declaration of Independence, at least one signer of the Constitution and the first Catholic Bishop of the United States… but, no one knew that then. It was just known that the Carrolls had been around since before America was a nation and had always had a lot of influence - Catholicism was essentially illegal in North Carolina until just before the Civil War… and then Sherman’s troops burned the first Catholic Church in the state in an agreement with the Freemasons to protect Presbyterian churches but target those “less desirable.” So, my family was not only Protestant, but founded several churches in the community… many of the towns bore our family names. To say that my grandfather was politically powerful and influential in the community would be an understatement. He was also a physically powerful man - muscular, as quick with his fists as he was with a joke…. an Irish temperament that I inherited. He was loved and respected by most all, but enemies with some. He had a large farm and a large family. He worked hard and he hired help. He actually provided jobs, loans and housing for much of the community.

Growing up, his best friend was the son of the family who was hired help for my great grandfather…. who was the grandson of the hired help for my great, great grandfather (etc.). He was a black man, and the two boys were like brothers. The man grew up to be a preacher and my grandfather both helped provide funds and physically helped build his church - my grandfather was a carpenter and brick mason among his many skills. Years later, one of the minister’s grandsons came to work for my grandfather. He was severely mentally handicapped. He was overweight, he stuttered and he was not a fan of physical labor… to say the least. Only my grandfather would give him a job. He “helped” do everything on our farm…. but mostly he made an excuse to not do actual physical work, but to “look after” me. So, much of my childhood was spent with this man as my constant babysitter. Frankly, he drove me insane! He would chastise me for anything he perceived to be dangerous, from climbing a tree to getting too near the water when we were fishing. He prevented me from getting into much of the mischief a boy desires! I would try to sneak away, only to feel his huge arm scooping me up and being subject to yet another stuttering lecture. But, I knew he genuinely cared for me, and I came to love him as a member of the family… because that was what he was; our families were joined through mutual service and dependence.

One day when my grandfather came home, my grandmother had to inform him that she had caught the man stealing. He had taken money, checks and food. She tried to confront him, but he ran home across the fields. This was very out of character. But, knowing my grandfather’s temper, she urged him, “Don’t hurt the boy, something isn’t right.” Rumor was, his sister had gotten into drugs. Well, my grandfather turned as cold as steel. You could see the hurt of betrayal in his eyes far more than anger. My mother was afraid he would kill the man and insisted we go with him. He told us to get in the car and did not speak a single word as we drove.

My grandfather knocked on the front door, and the man’s mother answered. “Ask ____ to come outside,” he said. The man came to the door. You could see younger children hiding, peeking out of windows, terrified at what was about to happen. The man had obviously told his mother that he had been caught stealing and there had been talk of retribution. My grandfather said, “_______ I know you’ve been stealing from me. I didn’t say anything at first, but today you went too far. You know stealing is wrong, don’t you"?” I heard him answer, “YYYYY Yes Sir.” “You ain’t gonna steal from me again, are you?” “NNNN No sir.” To everyone’s surprise, my grandfather reached out to shake the man’s hand. As he did so, he pressed a $100 bill into the trembling hand of them man who had just stolen from him. “Son, next time you need something you ask me. If you are hungry, go to house and my wife will fix you a plate, you know that. If your family needs something, your mamma knows she can ask me. Now, go get those checks and we will forget about it this time…. but don’t you steal from me again.” Suddenly, there was elation and hugging and a house full of celebration!

Afterward my grandfather walked back to the car and he just laughed. “What did you think I was going to do,” he asked?” “Well, I didn’t know….” my mother replied. I don’t recall his exact words, but I saw the love of Jesus in full display that day. To show compassion for one who cannot repay you, to be kind to one who cannot help you, to do the right thing when no one is watching, to give without expecting recognition, to forgive…. those are the lessons family is meant to teach us so that we may join the Family of God. Afterall, who can hurt you more than family and who needs your apologies more than family? In today’s Gospel, our Lord talks about the elaborate rituals of the Temple which were part of the sacrificial worship of God under Judaism. Today, I am reminded of His words in the Gospel of Matthew, “I desire not sacrifice but mercy.”

Judson Carroll is the author of several books, including his newest, Confirmation, an Autobiography of Faith. It is Available in paperback on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C47Q1JNK

His new podcast is The Uncensored Catholic https://www.spreaker.com/show/the-uncensored-catholic