By Any Means Necessary

 The other night I had a couple guys over for beers on the patio--one guy I knew fairly well, the other guy was friends with my friend, and I didn't know as well though we all go to the same parish. As we were shooting the breeze about work and kids, the friend of the friend mentioned casually that he had gotten "the snip." Both my friend and I were somewhat taken aback, but let it slide with half-hearted protests ("that's reversible you know," "aw, that's sad man.") and uncomfortably changed the subject after a minute or so.

But all day at work yesterday I kept thinking about it; it's not every day someone is honest like that, and knowing the company they were in to make such an admission. I was so surprised in the moment, and didn't know the guy real well, that I didn't really push back on it. I didn't know if he a) knew getting sterilized was wrong, and didn't care; b) was ignorant of Church teaching on the matter; c) didn't think it was serious enough to warrant the hellfire. Even though I was kind of stunned in the moment, I regretted being sheepish and not saying something more, even after I had had a couple glasses of Jack Daniels. 

Was this a sin of omission on my part? Or was I being respectful and reserving judgment of a situation I wasn't in a position to comment effectively on? That night taught me a lesson that I'm still attempting to learn and put into practice, a good general policy for any Christian concerned with the salvation of souls:

Just say the thing.

Time is short. My oldest son is twelve. In four years he will be driving. In six he will be going off to college. Then there's a good chance he will be gone, and I won't get the moments with him I take for granted now. Same goes for the other two.

So too with our opportunities to share the Gospel, even when that entails looking foolish or coming across as lacking bedside manners. Thankfully, as I've gotten older I'm more cognizant of the outweighing of "just saying the thing" over looking ignorant or offending someone. You say the offensive thing (even better when you do with a smile) and they listen to you, you save someone from the worm, and that's a win. You say the offensive thing and they don't listen to you, you get some grief or lose a potential acquaintance and....and? Who cares, seriously. Ain't nobody got time for that.

St. Paul knew this. If eating meat would scandalize one of his brothers, he wouldn't eat it (1 Cor 8:12-13). He would debase himself and do whatever was needed, by any means necessary, to win a soul to Christ:

Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. (1 Cor 9:19-23)

About a month ago, I took off my worn Miraculous Medal from around my neck and gave it to my dad, placing it around his neck. I don't know why, only....why not? He texted me a few days ago with an update about his ability to walk normally again after many falls and loss of balance: 

I told him it was important to thank the Mother of God, were it attributable to her miraculous intercession. And what better way to do that than by establishing a relationship with her? So I just said the thing to my dad, and I thought his response was pretty cool:

 

At our parish picnic today I was chatting with an elderly woman who was raised as a Southern Baptist in Tennessee. When she moved up to this area, a woman who lived across the street (who was Catholic) was essentially bold enough to tell her about the Church and that she should become Catholic. And so she (and her five daughters) did! If that neighbor had politely kept her mouth shut, the spiritual trajectory of this woman at our parish would have been drastically different. 

I'm not a real "make a statement" guy; I don't wear a lot of branded stuff, or feel the need to identify with "my tribe." Catholicism is not a membership club for me..it's a lifetime debt to pay. Nonetheless, I have curiously found myself lately trying out different methods of evangelizing in the empty airwave space to try to save some, as St. Paul says, by any means necessary. The Gospel is not a pitch, but I do sometimes feel it helpful to think of it those terms--when a screenwriter gets 5 seconds in the elevator with a movie exec to pitch his idea, he'd better be succinct, convincing, and make a lasting impact. I've been trying to do this in little ways--wearing a unmistakable CHOOSE LIFE t-shirt when I go out in secular settings, or the bumper stickers I designed recently for my car that simply state the inevitable (but will hopefully get someone to consider their ultimate end, even if only for a moment at a red light). [Edit: my wife will not let me put them on the car, so they have been relegated to the fridge]

Am I a little embarrassed at the brashness of this messaging I'm employing on my bodily property? Maybe. But the day is now far-spent, and we are a far way from home. If you're going to advertise, at least don't waste it on purposeless branding. We have to start not only letting people know there's a way out of this mess, but giving them the roadmap and directions as well...staying up with them doing so, saying the ignorant thing, risking looking like fools. Going out on limb. Saying the thing.

These are the people who will give glory to God with you in Heaven, and exclaim "Hey! I know YOU! You were THAT GUY who..." The things we risk to lose in this life--our jobs, our reputations, our friends--do seem like big things in this life, but mean ultimately very little in the next. "The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away" (Ps 90:10). And likewise, the tongues we hold here on earth will lap bitter dregs from the barrel of unspoken regret in Hell. "The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit" (Prov 18:21).

So, don't hold your tongue. Say the thing...in truth and charity, of course. But yours is a reconnaissance mission. Use everything at your disposal for the sake of the Gospel, and free the slaves by any means necessary.