Sit Not With Scoffers

Every now and then I will check on updates from former acquaintances in the faith who have since left it. Some are trying to figure out and reinvent themselves as former Christians. Some have simply transferred their former religious affiliations to a new flavor. Others have apologized for their former "hateful" way of life and like a college freshman coming home on Fall break, have done a 180 and love-is-lovingly embraced everything that was formerly counter to their religion. It's a cocktail of nuevo-kitch, tired predictability, and honest sadness. I'll sip the drink poolside in curiosity, but at the bottom of the glass it's just bitters.  I really need to stop following apostates.

Of the 150 psalms, the very first psalm, very first verse, begins: 

"Blessed is the man who hath not walked in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stood in the way of sinners, nor sat in the chair of pestilence." (Ps 1:1, DRA)

Why would David begin his Psalter like this? And why does St Paul in 1 Cor 5:11 exhort: the brothers:

"But now I have written to you, not to keep company, if any man that is named a brother, be a fornicator, or covetous, or a server of idols, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner: with such a one, not so much as to eat." 

As St. Paul also notes, "a little leaven leavens the whole lump" (Gal 5:9). Or, as a popular adage goes, "you are the company you keep." Believers are not immune to immoral influence, and the sowing of the seeds of doubt and scorn can be absorbed through the skin over time. 

Maybe this is why David promises the believers who find their delight in the law of the Lord that they will be "like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither— whatever they do prospers" (Ps 1:3). The goal is not to become a religious person, a "devout Catholic," or an exemplar within the community, but a lover of God's law and one who does His will. 

I think at the root of many of these disillusioned apostates and former Catholics is a deep seated woundedness. There can be a sense that their new juvenile atheism or their fervent conversion to non-deonimationalism, Orthodoxy, or what have you is the cure for their wound, which was caused by the Church herself. In some cases, this is not without warrant. One friend was abused within the Church, and is right to hurt and distrustful. But his anger and disgust for the institutional Church consumes him. It is clear from the outside (though maybe not from where he sits) that his wounds have not healed. I pray he finds his peace. But I'd bet whatever the new religion du jour is, it will simply mask over things unresolved. Healing must take place at the root. 

For another, his antagonism is directed at the community of believers and the institution itself. But in all these years, I have never heard him speak of his relationship with Christ. That's not to say he didn't have one, just that he never spoke of it or made it known. From where I stand--of COURSE the community is going to let you down; of COURSE the Church is dysfunctional and the power players within it hardly worthy of trust. The peripheries are easy targets, but the core, the center which holds everything together which is Christ, is nary mentioned. 

Why do I follow these wounded trainwrecks and listen to anything they have to say? I would not emulate them, and I do not respect their character, so why would I allow myself to be influenced by them or feed their narcissism and need for an audience? I can pray for them, sure, and I do; I know their wounds run deep and can only be healed by Christ the Divine Physician. I do not feel they are open to (loving) reproach, either, but only see it as further salt on their scars. They seek to bleed the pain by venting and continually throwing light on all the dysfunctions and abuses within the Church for others to see. 

I don't know if it is cognitive dissonance on my part, but none of this shakes my faith in Christ, my healer and deliverer. It may shed light on things I already know, or was only maybe loosely aware of. They may even have valid things to say, which I can try to sift through and respect for what it's worth. Then again, maybe it's like reading a Richard Rohr book just because he mentions Christ once or twice in it.

Part of it is probably a sinful curiosity as well. I don't wish them ill, but I do see they have not only separated themselves from the Church, but have nothing but contempt for it now. I would not count them as enemies, but it's hard to remain friends with such people, as much for them as for me. 

What more can we do? Treat them as tax collectors, as our Lord tells us--that is, sinners worthy of love and forgiveness, ones that are extended the invitation to come follow Christ by Christ himself--even if they have given up their seat at the table for their own personal greener pastures.