George was a man who was greatly blessed in life. He had good and loving parents and a happy childhood. He had a quick mind and did well at school. He was successful in his work and enjoyed a comfortable income. He married a woman with a happy disposition, who was a topnotch homemaker and saw her husband as the finest man God had ever made. His home was in a pleasant, quiet neighbourhood. In short, George lived in a fairly tranquil atmosphere with few frustrations or tensions. He led a blameless life and enjoyed a well-deserved reputation as a man of virtue.
Joe was a man of different calibre. His childhood was full of insecurity, with parents who argued incessantly and who were constantly threatening to separate. Whether from emotional strain or from lack of learning power, Joe did consistently poor work in school. He was in the principal’s office often, and finally graduated only through the charity of his teachers. He held a routine job that just barely provided enough to pay the bills. With no financial margin of safety, Joe worried about the possibility of losing his job and about the possible disaster of a major illness or accident. He lived in a less desirable neighbourhood, with houses close together and the noise considerable. His wife was a poor manager and a nagger besides. Joe frequently drank too much, had an explosive temper and was much given to profanity; definitely not a candidate for Virtuous Man of the Year.
George and Joe both went to Church regularly. George was a frequent communicant, while Joe received the sacraments at less regular intervals. In due time, both men died and appeared before God in judgment. Both got to heaven, but both experienced some surprises in the process. George’s big surprise was to find that he did not stand as high on God’s roster as he had expected. “Yes you were good,” was God’s verdict, “but why shouldn’t you have been? Your life fell along pleasant lines with very few worries or problems. By nature you were a man of moderate passions with comparatively few temptations. Is it any credit to yourself that your life was virtuous? Really you should have been a great saint.”
Joe was surprised to find that he had made the grade at all. He was even more surprised to find that he was several degrees above George in glory. “You could have done better,” is the judgment he hears, “but you did stay in there, fighting. You didn’t give in to self-pity and make your tough breaks an excuse for surrender. Considering your weaknesses and your handicaps, you didn’t do too badly with the graces which I gave you.”
This little parable of George and Joe is intended to illustrate a truth which we sometimes forget: the truth that there is much more to sin and virtue than appears on the surface. If all men were born with exactly the same endowments: if all men had exactly the same kind of opportunities and faced temptations of exactly the same strength then we could safely make comparisons and say “This man is good. That man is bad.” Life however is not that simple. And so, only God can know the relative virtue of any individual. Only God can know how hard each one has tried, view of his own particular personality and his own particular problems, to use the graces which God has given.
Understanding this, we take courage. Each of us has his own individual handicaps. Few of us come to adulthood with a perfectly balanced personality. Few of us escape all scars in the process of growing up. Moreover, our passions may be strong and our judgment warped. Our living conditions may be harassed and our associates disagreeable. Our worries may be numerous and our tensions constant. God knows all this. Of each of us He asks only that we do the best we can with what we have. He asks only that we keep stubbornly trying, no matter how often we may seem to fail or to slip back. It is not so much a complete victory that God looks for from us as it is a dogged perseverance in our efforts to achieve victory. We might say that it is the trying, rather than the getting, that God judges us by.
It may be that none of this applies to us. It may be that we have enjoyed many advantages in life which make it fairly easy for us to be good. Then depend upon it, God expects more than ordinary goodness from us. He knows our assets as well as he knows our handicaps. We dare not let ourselves rest upon that level of virtue which ‘comes natural’ to us. However, there probably are more of us who need encouragement in our struggle than there are those who need a prick of the spurs. And we do find encouragement in the knowledge that God understands and duly assesses all the influences that enter into our decisions and our deeds.
Along with increased courage in our own efforts to do Gods will, there should be a corresponding growth in our understanding of our neighbour and his problems. This means that we shall be quicker to make allowances for the weaknesses and the mistakes of our fellow man. Words of harsh criticism seldom will be heard upon our lips. We shall remember that , with our advantages, we probably are not doing as much for God as the person who, with his handicaps, seems to do much less. The man(or woman) whom I and tempted to condemn, may stand far higher in God’s eyes than I do.
We do not know all
the hidden influences which affect our neighbour’s actions. We do
not know the kind of home and parents he may have had, the
inadequacies of childhood training or the inner wounds he may have
suffered. God knows all these things and takes account in His
judgment. I do not know them, therefore I dare not make myself the
judge of my neighbours virtue.
Certainly I cannot condone, as though they did not matter, the sinful actions which my neighbours may commit. But, with compassion strong within me, my attitude towards the errant one will be that pf pity rather than contempt. It will be a prayer for him, rather than abuse of him, that my mouth shall speak. Compassion is, indeed, a most essential ingredient in my practice of charity towards my fellows. And I easily can measure the degree of my compassion by the frequency of my unkind criticism of others.
Compassion was one of the Lord’s most striking characteristics during His life upon earth. At Jacob’s Well there was His gentle treatment of the Samaritan woman who was living with a man living with a man not her husband. There was his gentle patience towards the reputedly dishonest Publicans. There was His forgiving dismissal of the woman convicted of adultery. There was His compassion towards Mary Magdalen, towards the ambitious brothers James and John, towards the cowardly Peter and the doubting Thomas. The Pharisees were the only ones towards whom Jesus was severe. These were the men who had every advantage of family, training, and high position; yet they condemned and oppressed those less fortunate than themselves. Because He was God and could read hearts, Jesus had the right to judge the Pharisees. We, however , have no such right. When bitter words rise to our lips we remember that we are not God. We cannot read hearts. We can only be compassionate – and silent.
The woman next door is a sloppy housekeeper. Yes, but did she have the training I had? Does she have my mental and emotional health. The man down the street is such a braggart; I get tired hearing him talk about himself. Yes, but what hidden battle is he fighting? From what deep feelings of inferiority does his bragging flow? The woman across the alley is such a bore: she can talk only about her aches and pains and troubles. Yes, but what did she miss in her childhood that makes it so necessary now for her to seek attention and sympathy? The man I work for is so domineering; a slave driver if I ever saw one. Yes, but what twist of fortune left him so inwardly insecure that he must constantly bolster himself up with an overbearing manner? In the compassionate person, it is considerations such as these that quiet the impulse to criticise and condemn.
Courage and compassion! These are twin virtues that can make the practice of our religion a satisfying and joyful experience. We are courageous and cheerful in our own spiritual efforts because we remember that God does not ask of us more than we are able to give. He knows our capabilities, but he knows our handicaps, too. We do our honest best, and are confident that God will be satisfied with that.
Towards our neighbours we are gentle, kindly and understanding. Our compassion makes us ever mindful of their hidden disadvantages, the disabilities and defects which can be known only to God. And in our practice of compassion we discover, perhaps with some surprise, that charitableness is so much more fun than harsh judgment and criticism. In faultfinding and vindictive criticism there is a venom that corrodes and destroys the heart of the one who sits in judgment on his fellows. In compassion there is a constructiveness, a creativity that brings a sense of achievement to the understanding soul; almost a feeling of exhilaration. Because of our compassion we are happier persons – and there are few virtues, incidentally, which will bring us so close to the heart of Christ.
Everyman’s Road to Heaven by Fr Trese
