Witness

After having been away for a year at novitiate, it is sometimes easy for me to take my vocation for granted. What I mean by that is, the novitiate was a contained environment in which the values of Capuchin life were lived out in a very real and specific way each day without justification. We were Capuchin novices, unequivocally, and there was really no need to prove that or justify that to anyone because there was really no one else around. Now, however, when I step outside the door with a habit on and get onto the T as it lurches toward downtown Boston, it seems like I have a lot of justifying to do.

Here in Boston, for every friendly smile or nod of acknowledgment, a habited friar is confronted with at least ten semi-hostile stares, curious gawks, or frown (whether the frown is hostile or curious, I'm not sure) and it seems like everyone is looking for an explanation of who you are and why. Sometimes this gets annoying, especially if I'm just on my way to Mass or to a holy hour at St. Clement's on Boylston, minding my own business and more or less keeping my head down. I'm doing nothing but witnessing to my faith and my vocation, so why does it attract so many stares, glares, frowns, and comments? What about all of the women walking around the city in burkas? Or all of the Orthodox Jews with their kippahs? Beyond that, there is justification to be made to friends and family who are still confused or curious about your vocation; there is the call to be a witness to those others in your life.

As frustrating as it may sometimes be, the reality is that God does not call us to be disciples so that we can just live unnoticed in the world. He is very clear about that in the Gospel. You do not put a lamp under a bushel basket, a light set on a hill cannot be hidden. But learning how to live that discipleship in the world is something I still struggle with. Part of me is still uncomfortable with people so public a witness for fear I won't know the right thing to say when it needs to be said or, worse set, being a poor witness, thereby pushing people away from the Gospel instead of closer to it.

The temptation, on the one hand, is to overcompensate and become an extremely aggressive witness: to be totally unabashed in witnessing in public life. The other extreme is to be so shy and quiet, hoping people might see the little things you do, but not making any attempts at a more noticeable witness. I'll often flip between these two extremes several times in the same subway trip, thinking I came off too strong in one case, then not strong enough in another case. The problem with the first extreme is that it takes people out the consideration: the objective is only your witness and everyone else needs your witness and you don't need theirs. Or, as a local priest put in his homily on the Feast of Saint Lawrence, the tendency is to say, "I'll tell the Gospel. There might be a few dead bodies when I'm done, but I'll tell it."

This comes to me most clearly with what I'll call "old company," people who have been in my life both before and after my conversion and thus before and after my entrance into the Order. I made the decision in the novitiate that I didn't want to do this life "half-assed" (even though Homer Simpson says it's the American way) but that I wanted to live up to the dignity of it to the best of my ability. To do this, there are certain rigors, certain patterns of living and working in the world that I need to hold onto, like the Divine Office, daily Eucharist, time spent with Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, etc. But sometimes "old company" can make following through on these personal commitments difficult or, even, impossible. How far is too far when it comes to pushing back and asserting my need for these pillars of my faith and my vocation? Just sticking to my guns might hurt them and thus set a bad example and maybe push them further away from embracing the Gospel, in which case I failed on two counts.

How I spend time with these people in my life is very important because they, more so than the hundreds of total strangers who pass me by on the subway, look to me to be an example or, rather, need me to be an example of the Church and ultimately Jesus. I am their most concrete and immediate access to the Church and, they think, to God. If I am this "divine courier" for them, then I have to show them that I am both prayerful and dedicated to my life of prayer, penance, chastity, austerity, and obedience, and that I'm also compassionate and understanding of their needs, their doubts, and their fears about faith.

Being this person for them is made difficult by the fact that, to them, I'm always going to be the Matthew that I was before my conversion, I'm always going to be their best memory of me and thus I can never become anything different. For some, dedication to prayer is obsessive compulsive piety. For others, dedication to the Church and her teachings is blind obedience. In these cases I can't win, but just the same I need to be the best witness I can be to them and for them because I may be the one vehicle through which God can work in their lives and that is a mighty responsibility and my Christian obligation.

So I haven't figured it out yet, I'm just musing, thinking, praying... that's all I can do really. I know that I need to have no fear to be a Catholic Christian and a Capuchin publicly. I professed my vows publicly, I wear an outward symbol of their profession and I am not ashamed or embarrassed by it. Having trust and confidence in Christ is what must be at the core of my witness for in that trust I will know that God will work and He sees fit, that I am merely one vehicle among many through which God reaches out to His lost sheep to bring them back into the one fold and that, although I must take my public actions very seriously, I must never think that the entire fate of God's plan rests on my shoulders because God is bigger than me. I can only be me as He allows but even in my weakness He will work. The saints were nothing but ordinary people who so trusted God that they became extraordinary and their continued witness to holiness is an example for us. May they pray for me as I seek to understand how to be a public witness to God and His holy church.


Pax.