Anger

It is with a heavy heart that I write this blog post. As many of my Dear Readers may be aware, yet another sex scandal within the Catholic Church has risen to the surface. I am exceptionally blessed with a steadfast faith which has not faltered in light of these evil actions. Rather, my heart is hurting for all of the souls that wish to come Home, but they are afraid. They are afraid of being accused of being evil themselves, and they are afraid that the place they once believed to be safe is dangerous and evil.

As I watch the pews lose their valuable members, I cannot help but feel anger. Anger at the men who abused their power and the men who refused to bring these actions to the light, anger at the souls whose faith could not withstand the scandals, anger at the souls who do not allow me to a part of their community.

But that’s the thing…

Anger should not last so long. Just anger is a recognition of a wound, of an injustice caused to oneself or their neighbor, and bringing that injustice to the light.

Where does this long-term anger come from?

It comes from wounds we hide from the world. We are so scared that our wounds will make us look less than perfect that we let these wounds fester. If there is something or someone that appears perfect in our lives, we tend to avoid those things out of fear. We fear that our brokenness will taint the goodness we see before us.

Here, with the Church’s darkness coming to the light yet again, many of our worst fears are coming to the light.

And so anger evolves out of that fear.

But…we need to stop being so afraid of our brokenness that leads to this long-term anger. Because, as Master Yoda once said, 

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

Because we are so afraid of our wounds, of our sins, of our pasts, we choose to take it out on the world. And as our angry rants and tweets and posts go out over and over again…many souls are suffering all the more.

All I see are the souls that wish to come Home, and yet they are afraid.

They are afraid of the terrible unknown acts within the Church becoming a regular part of their lives. They are afraid of the accusations they may have to face. They are afraid.

And as I watch those little souls turn from the Home they once believed in, I find myself feeling alone yet again. I have helped so many souls find a home in the Church, even souls that once believed that God never loved them. My undergraduate community was so small that I could hold everyone’s Communion wafer in the palm of my hand, and I loved it just the same. My family group chat is filled with prayer requests and happy praises.

After so many years of bringing souls to Mass with me…I’m alone again.

“You may think your only choices are to swallow your anger or throw it in someone’s face, but there’s a third option: You can just let it go, and only when you do that is it really gone and you can move forward.” ~Ted Mosby

Yes, we need to have just anger and let the injustices come forward.

But we need to start sharing the hope that resides in our hearts.

Our hopes have been dashed and broken. It is not just this scandal that takes our hope away. It is the heartbreaks. It is the “no’s” from Heaven. It is the seemingly perfect moments that are taken from us because we were just a little too scared to believe that something magical could happen.

We replaced hope with fear and anger.

Not just the Church, but every single person on Earth…myself included.

Faithful or not, we choose to be angry because it’s easier to be angry. You can do something with your anger. You can get vengeance. You can rant to people about it. You can act out. You can post on the internet. You can be somebody with anger. Just look at all of the TV judges: they are all so angry.

We are angry because what we see is not what the world sees.

We’re hurt, and instead of letting people help us, instead of letting God help us, we choose to be angry. We choose to yell and scream and hate because it is so much easier to rant than it is to be healed.

Anger is immediate.

Healing is patient.

In the spirit of hope, I am going to share a prayer with my Dear Readers. This is how I pray for souls. I am sharing this because The Devil does not want me to see that although I am alone in my pew every Sunday now, that I am not truly alone. He wants me to be angry that in the midst of losing the security of saying, “The Church has handled the sex scandals,” that I also lost the only community I felt like I truly belonged in.

But I am not going to be angry.

Not anymore.

Here is my prayer. It’s addressed to you, my Dear Reader, because I believe that if we start praying for one another through our stories and our crosses that we will start to heal each and every broken piece of our hearts.

Because prayer is not a wimpy request.

It's a battle cry.

Dear Reader,

I pray that these words grant you rest. Whether it is life on Earth or fear of losing Eternal Life that tires you, I pray that by sharing my brokenness that you might find healing. For as we hold the crosses of others, as we gaze upon their broken hearts, we love them. Love grants us rest. That is why I have great hope: I know that when love is allowed in during times of fear that all is well.

My Interior Castle was broken down by a great storm nearly eight years ago. When that happened, only a single room remained: the bedroom of my Jesus. Because I allowed another soul’s evil actions destroy my Caste, I avoided the room. I knew that if I came Home that i could love properly again, but I was too scared of losing Heaven that I avoided my vocation. I avoided my call to love patiently, to be brave, and to believe in the possibility of true love on Earth.

As I started to draw nearer, I noticed that the tiny shack of a room had changed. The Carptenter’s Son took the brokenness of my heart and built something new: a little stone house. From the outside it looked imperfect. I didn’t even recognize it at first. However, my Jesus did not leave me without a place to rest.

There was a second little house. I knew it was a house right away, even though it was broken on the sides and the roof was uneven. I could rest there. In another broken house, my soul found rest. Again and again I traveled to little stone houses, finding rest in their uneven yet sturdy walls. As I learned to love again, I returned to my little stone house.

You may believe that you are too weak or too broken to come Home. You may see the broken pieces of the world and believe that there is nowhere for you to rest. The truth is…when we go in to the little stone house of someone’s heart we find peace.

Why?

Because Christ is in every little stone house. The Carpenter’s Son is fixing the foundation, adding support, and refining the details of each and  every human heart. Even if you fear the desires of your own heart, there is no reason to fear the broken houses. The more they break, the more we encounter Christ. We help Him rebuild the little stone houses.

I have hope because I know that the Carpenter’s Son will always be building up houses. Even the most broken and evil hearts can heal…if Christ is allowed to work. By joining His mission of love and hope, each and every heart has the opportunity to be healed.

After nearly eight years of traveling form house to house, I am finally home. I was so angry that it took so long. It was not my Jesus’ fault; it was my own. I realized that my house will always hold my Jesus, and with Him, the promise of a happy life. So does your house my Dear Reader.

Someday I will receive the gifts my Jesus promised to me before I let my Castle crumble down. Someday I will rest forever in Heaven, but for now, I will continue to take care of these little houses, hoping for the day that a soul may rest in mine forever.

Never give up my love. Our brokenness will never be too much for our Jesus. We just need to continue on in hope and in love.

Love always in Him,

Felicity