In our
consumer-driven society, today perhaps more than at any time in history,
people fret and even worry not only about what other people think about
them but also what other people have to say about them.
To put this into
a bit of perspective, there was an item in the news just this past
week. Can you guess what young women covet most for a graduation gift
this year? No, it’s not a new automobile. No, it’s not a trip to an
exotic land. Believe it or not, it’s breast implants! It’s bad enough
that young women graduating from high school and college want implants
but, worse yet, parents are giving breast implants to their daughters
for graduation gifts.
Don’t so many
people today allow stress to consume them if they don’t possess the
perfect body, the perfect hair, the perfectly pearly, straight, white
teeth, the perfect wardrobe, the perfect automobile or even, the perfect
zip code? So many people sincerely believe these and other such
highly-prized possessions are what make other people take notice and
talk positively about them. And, because others think well and have
positive things to say, people allow material things like these to
inflate their sense of self-esteem.
Isn’t it equally
true, however, that when people whose self-esteem hinges upon material
things don’t have these possessions and because of that other people
don’t take notice and talk positively about them, these people feel that
they’re not “good enough” and their feelings of inferiority and failure
only seem to increase?
So, to avoid
these negative feelings, people today are spending bundles of cash in a
consumer-driven, frenzied effort to perfect the image of the person they
want to project to the world. All of this, of course, is driven by the
vain hope that others will accept them and, through such social
acceptance, increase their self-esteem.
All of this is
premised, of course, on the false assumption that self-esteem comes not
from within a person but from outside of a person. That
is, one’s sense of self-esteem is not attributable to what other people
think and have to say because the very nature of self-esteem is that
sense of personal worth and personal dignity that comes from the
“self”―from one’s authentic inner core―what oftentimes is referred to as
“character.” Self-esteem doesn’t come from outside of oneself. People
who feel inferior have a spiritual problem because they have forgotten
that we human beings need to be accepted by others for who we are
not for what we possess.
Many years ago,
the mother of a student I was teaching at the time scheduled an
appointment to visit with me. Her son was a very bright but equally
lazy student. He was interested in expending only the minimal amount of
effort necessary to complete his homework. This student’s mother was
exceedingly angry with me because on the previous day I had said to her
son that his essay was woefully inadequate. The student’s mother agreed
that the essay was woefully inadequate. But, she was exceedingly angry
because in telling her son how woefully inadequate his essay truly was,
as a consequence I had “destroyed his self-esteem.”
Without thinking,
I wagged my head to and fro and began to chuckle under my breath, which
had the unfortunate effect of serving only to increase the woman’s ire.
“What are you
laughing at?” she snapped.
“Well, if you
think about it for just a moment,” I said, “if someone other than your
son can destroy his self-esteem simply by stating the truth, then your
son really doesn’t have any self-esteem in the first place. Maybe
that’s the real problem. Your son doesn’t have the self-esteem it takes
to translate his considerable ability into homework assignments of which
he can be justifiably proud. He knows he didn’t write a quality essay.
So, how is your son ever going to survive in the real world if he can’t
handle some honest feedback about the true quality his work?”
I wish I could
say my logic led to a good conclusion. Unfortunately, it didn’t.
Later that day,
the principal called me into his office and told me how much I had upset
this poor woman. The principal said I could have been more sensitive to
her feelings about her son as well as her fear about the potential
negative effect the grade he received on the essay would have upon his
overall grade. The principal also suggested that I call or write and
apologize to the student’s mother for having hurt her feelings.
Obstinate cuss
that I am, I told the principal that I wouldn’t apologize. “That would
only reinforce her need to have her son feel good,” I said. “Let’s face
it. He shouldn’t feel good; he should feel ashamed and embarrassed. I
want him to learn to be proud of himself and his achievements not
because he puts forth minimal effort and gets rewarded for it but
because he puts forth his best efforts no matter what the outcome.
Furthermore, I didn’t destroy his self-esteem. Self-esteem comes from
within. In fact, by trying to get people like us to pander to what she
perceives her son’s needs are, she’s only re-enforcing her son’s lack of
self-esteem. That’s fraud.”
The story ended
there. That’s the last I ever heard about it.
I suspect the
principal agreed with me not because he never did follow up on his
suggestion that I apologize but because he later spoke at a PTA meeting
about the nature of true self-esteem. And, to this day, if in fact she
does remember me, I suspect the student’s mother doesn’t think about or
speak well of me. As for her son, he continued to write truly woeful
essays and, if in fact he does remember me, I suspect he doesn’t think
about or speak well of me either. Historians will probably record that
I am the person who not only destroyed this student’s self-esteem but
also made him hate writing for his entire life.
Even if this
student’s mother did have a point about the need for teachers like me to
be more nurturing and supportive of her son (which I think is bunk), she
was dead wrong about my having destroyed his self-esteem. Self-esteem
is not something we acquire from other people. No, self-esteem
evidences itself in the words and behavior of people who care more about
what virtue, honor, principle, and dignity require than they care about
what other people may think or have to say. For this reason alone,
placing too much importance upon what other people think and say
evidences a genuine lack of self-esteem.
In today’s
gospel, Jesus asks his disciples the question, “Who do they say I
am?” and it might seem that Jesus is teetering on the verge of building
his self-esteem upon the shallow foundation of public opinion. However,
after listening to his disciples report the latest public opinion polls,
Jesus didn’t stop there to re-evaluate his self-worth. Instead, he
pressed his disciples a much more personal and specific question, “Who
do you say I am?” It’s as if Jesus is saying, “Okay, guys, now
that I’ve heard you relate what everyone else is saying about me, what
do you have to say about me?”
What others have
to say is one thing, Jesus seems to be implying, but public opinion
pales when compared to what each individual disciple has to say. Why?
Because Jesus values what his friends say and so he asks his disciples
to tell them truth of their personal experience. “Who do you say
I am?” requires each disciple to make a statement that cannot be
attributed to any other person. And, if that statement is uttered
truthfully, the disciple will have to stand on it when the time of the
test comes.
Jesus is asking
each of his disciples to make the sort of statement that we human beings
don’t like to ask not only of others but also ourselves. “Who do you
say I am?” means being honest, fessing up, and leaving no stone
unturned. What is said may be as surprising as it is brutal, comforting
as it is challenging. But, it is the truth and, as such, these
responses provide the solid foundation upon which true self-esteem is
built.
And so, it is
good to ask ourselves as well as other people, especially those who we
care about, “Who do you say I am?”
On this Father’s
Day, many of us respond by saying, “Dad.” Today is the day we consider
and reconsider what our experience has taught us and what we really mean
when we utter the word “Dad.”
What does it mean
to call someone “Dad”?
Hopefully, when
we call someone “Dad,” we’re speaking about a man who never complains
about the heavy workload or all of the sacrifices he makes for his wife
and family. Dad’s don’t say brusquely, “Look at all I’ve done for
you.” No, real Dads just labor and toil away each day and get the job
done. They seem to be grateful just to have the opportunity to be able
to provide for what their wives and children need. This makes a real
Dad content because in providing for the needs of others, he knows that
he’s really needed. They might work themselves to the bone to give
their wives everything they want but real Dads are extremely careful not
to give their children everything they want.
Hopefully, when
we call someone “Dad,” we’re also speaking about a father who enjoys
listening to his children describe their experiences, wonderments, and
aspirations. If a child pursues his or her own interests, this man
doesn’t say, “You’ve broken my heart.” No, he swallows his hopes and
aspirations because listening to a child express one’s convictions is
more important than telling a child what to do. Real Dads ask: “How did
you come to that conclusion? Are you sure about this?” And when a
child says, “Yes, I’ve thought about it and for these reasons I believe
this is what I need to do,” these selfless men say “I understand
completely, and I think that’s great.”
Hopefully, when
we call someone “Dad,” we’re speaking about a man who always seems to be
one step ahead, one answer ahead, and one experience ahead of his
children even though children believe they are smarter than their Dads.
But, rather than saying to his children, “Here’s what you have to do” or
“Here’s the answer” as if this man is the font of all knowledge, a real
Dad poses a question to his child which requires thinking about and
searching for the truth. And, when a child does his homework and, at
just the right moment, unveils the truth, a real Dad relishes the moment
and chuckles to himself saying, “Hey, my kid’s really wise.”
In the
movie, Titanic, you may recall the scene when the actor
portraying real-life philanthropist Benjamin Guggenheim refused a life
jacket and declared instead that he and his manservant were “dressed in
our best and are prepared to go down like gentlemen.” The statement
struck many of the movie’s viewers as going a bit overboard. (Pardon the
pun.) Who ever would refuse a life jacket and dress up in one’s best
clothes to face death?
In this
post-9/11 world, Guggenheim's unruffled act of self-sacrifice is no
longer a quaint anachronism of some by-gone past, especially for those
children lucky enough to experience a real Dad.
This
“man of steel” isn’t Superman. He is, however, a man who possesses a
backbone and who doesn’t let others’ opinions interfere with his
principles, even if “everyone else’s parents say it’s okay.” He’s not
polished, prettified, rippling, flaxen, and glued to the bathroom mirror
with better manicures and pedicures and bigger walk-in closets than
their wives. Neither is he foul-mouthed, flatulent, drooling, flaccid,
and glued all day to the living room television, a beer-guzzling slob
who provides as much intellectual nourishment for others as does a
three-day-old Domino’s pizza. Nor is he “Murphy Brown’s son” as the
essayist Terrence O. Moore has labeled these wimps and barbarians who
try in vain to pose as real Dads.
No,
real “Dads” are easy to spot. They’re Dad’s like New York City's
firefighters and cops. They’re Dad’s like the heroes of Flight 93.
Their Dad’s like our nation’s soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan. Or, if
they aren’t firefighters and cops, soldiers, or heroes, they’re regular
guys who go to work and come home every day. They’re all real “Dads”
because these men possess convictions and who view themselves as
servants of God, of the nation, and of their spouse, children, and
friends.
Because
of this, real Dads don’t care all that much or worry about what other
people think and have to say about them. What stresses them (or, better
yet, what possesses them), is what justice requires. And, because of
this much-valued and much-cherished possession, real Dads like these men
teach their children what true self-esteem consists of.
The
ability to write clever thank-you notes, to select fine wines or to
present an amiable appearance at the dinner table is less important to
real Dads than is the ability to demonstrate upright character,
including things like keeping one's word, standing by one's principles,
practicing restraint, shunning publicity, and—like Benjamin
Guggenheim—greeting tragedy and death stoically. Only real Dads inspire
their children to reach beyond their seemingly insatiable desire for
creature comforts and countless material possessions and to accept the
disciplines imposed by lofty ideals, because only real Dads possess the
character enabling them to teach their children where the source of true
self-esteem is to be found…from within themselves.
But,
real Dads are human, too.
We know from
first-hand experience that they don’t belong to a “saints-only” club but
that doesn’t mean that real Dads never cease yearning to become saints.
Knowing that the word “sacrifice” means “to make holy” not “to
be holy,” real Dads don’t shrink back from trying to make themselves
holy, first, by denying themselves in order to do God’s will and,
second, by sacrificing themselves for others, none more so than their
wives and children. No one appreciates this quality of character more
than a real Mom.
On this Father’s
Day, we’re asked, “Who do you say I am?” When we respond, “Dad,” the
word coming from our lips is a testimony to the man who has taught us
something about God our Eternal Father. As these men don’t complain
about all they do for us, listen patiently to our wonderments, lives,
and aspirations, and always seem to one step ahead so that they can
assist us to grow in grace and wisdom, we have captured a glimpse of God
and his eternal love for us.
In this
Eucharist—in which give thanks for the sacrifice which Jesus made us—we
recall and give thanks today for the sacrifice our Dads have made for
us. Like Jesus, our Dads have poured out their body and blood that we
might recognize and be transformed by what is our greatest and only
possession of any real worth, the true self-esteem that comes from
within when we offer ourselves in sacrifice—when we make ourselves
holy—like Jesus and our Dads—for the good of others. |