Doormats and Bridges.

This past summer, I attended a conference with one of my best friends at the Franciscan University of Steubenville, Ohio. We had a blast, and it was a fun conference with an all-star lineup of presenters. We even got the experience of staying at a random stranger’s house!

During two of the talks, two of the speakers said intriguing things that triggered late-night chats between my friend and I, and a lot of thinking since leaving the conference. I’ll be honest…I started to write this post shortly after the conference, but then life happened and I saved it on my computer, knowing I would get right back to it.

That didn’t happen.

However, lately some things have brought what those speakers said back to mind…randomly going through your files also helps. But anyhow, back to the point…

First, there was Matt Maher, who, when speaking of his ministry, said, “I realized that if I wanted to be a bridge, I had to lay down and let people walk all over me.”

The next day, my friend and I attended a talk by Dr. Peter Kreeft. During the question and answer session, someone asked Dr. Kreeft the difference between a humble person and a person who is being a doormat, to which Dr. Kreeft replied, “A doormat has a very low opinion of himself. A humble person has no opinion of himself.”

It got me thinking—what’s the difference between a bridge and a doormat? What’s the difference between being a bridge and letting people walk all over you, and a doormat—something that people also walk all over?

When you study philosophy, as I did in college seminary, you learn the importance of distinctions, and as one of my professors would tell us over and over again—“defining your terms”.

It became important to do just that—to define my terms, and to make a distinction between a doormat and a bridge.

First, the doormat.

A doormat is something that is important for a home. It helps keep the inside of the home a little cleaner. However, a doormat is something that people not only walk over, but wipe their feet on, leaving the filth covering their shoes behind. A doormat is a place to collect filth and is something that becomes worn down until eventually, it is useless. Usually, they are thrown away. Even if it’s cleaned, a doormat cannot really be strengthened, and with being available at such a low cost, sometimes it is easier to go spend the five dollars for a new one.

The Bridge.

A bridge, on the other hand, is different. Like a doormat, bridges are necessary. If it weren’t for a bridge, I couldn’t get to school in Indiana. In fact, I couldn’t get to any place north of Kentucky by a direct route if I couldn’t travel by bridge.

Besides being necessary, bridges also are something that people can walk over (by the way, there’s a great walking bridge in Louisville…just throwing that out there). However—it’s different. Unlike a doormat, a bridge isn’t something that we can simply throw away. A bridge has the possibility of being strengthened. Not only that, but a bridge’s purpose isn’t to simply to remove filth or to get dirty. Cars don’t drive over bridges in order to remove the mud from their tires or bugs off of the windshield—that’s what overpriced carwashes are for. Rather, a bridge exists to help people and things get from one place to another. The bridge on I-64 helps me get from Kentucky into Indiana so that I can get to school.

Simple, right?

Clarity.

After performing the seemingly over-simplified task of actually thinking about what doormats and bridges are and do, Matt Maher and Dr. Kreeft’s remarks begin to become a little more clear.

First, Dr. Kreeft’s doormat comment. There are times in our lives that we will, undoubtedly, feel like a doormat. We develop a low opinion of ourselves—for a variety of reasons. Someone might be performing better than we are at work. Others may seem to be more popular or have a better social life than we do. We could even buy into the lie that even God Himself doesn’t love us. When we have a low opinion of ourselves, it becomes easy for people to walk all over us as they would a doormat—because sometimes, we don’t feel like we have the strength to take a stand for ourselves, or we fall into a deception that leads us to not taking care of our own well being.

That being said—although at times we may feel like a doormat, it is important to never allow ourselves to become a doormat. There are a few things to remember:

First, that we are loved by God. As Pope Benedict XVI said in his homily at the Mass of the Inauguration of his Pontificate, “We are not some casual and meaningless product of evolution—each one of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary”. Or, as the Director of Counseling at my college seminary said to us in a conference, “God has a profound and deep love for you—never forget that, and never let anyone convince you otherwise.”

Secondly, although there is sometimes a ‘stigma’ associated with it, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in seeking psychological counseling—I have for certain aspects of my life, and I have found it extremely fruitful. Sometimes, it’s good to just hear someone else’s perspective on things.

Anyhow, moving on to Matt Maher’s bridge. As I said before, it is possible for people to walk over bridges as they do a doormat—but bridges serve a fundamentally different purpose than doormats—bridges help people arrive at a destination.

In his comment, Matt Maher was speaking of a bridge in relationship to his own ministry. Now, it makes more sense. This imagery of a bridge in relationship to ministry is nothing new to me. In fact, a couple of years ago, the Archdiocesan Vocations Office sent all of the seminarians a book entitled The Priest: A Bridge to God, which was a compilation of quotes and talks that Pope Benedict XVI gave to groups of priests and seminarians. Yet, I never really thought of it until Maher’s talk and my late night chats with my friend.

A bridge helps someone arrive at a destination—in ministry (ministry of any sort, really) that’s the goal. Really, it’s the case of the Christian life. Our mission—our vocation—as Christians is to work our best to get to our destination of eternal life with God in Heaven, and to help as many people as we possibly can do the same.

A Sunday School Lesson.

So, as Christians, we need to be a bridge that helps others come to a relationship with Christ with the goal of getting to spend eternity with Him in heaven. (Because seriously, life without Christ sucks…I’ll say it.)

Now that I think of it, growing up, in Sunday School I was introduced to this idea of a bridge, in a different sense. First, a little background…

As human beings, we are fallen in sin. Our sin, and our inclination to sin (concupiscence, if you want the fancy word) have created a canyon of sorts between us and God. Christ, through His death on the Cross, and ultimately, His defeating death in the resurrection, has covered that canyon between us and God (here of course speaking of God the Father…I’m aware that Jesus is God too. Calm down.) Really, Christ has made it possible for us to enter the heavenly gates. Now, with this lesson in Sunday school also came an image similar to this:

This is fine, but I like to give it a little clarification.

Bringing Christ to Others and Being His Body.

For the past several years, the “theme” for the annual giving campaign in my Archdiocese has been Bringing Christ to Others. This campaign is an important one, because it provides the funds that help the Church in central Kentucky do what the Church does—to be there when people need her. In a sense, the funds that come from this annual campaign help us to be the presence of Christ to others. It helps us to meet people where they are and show them the profound love of God, especially in times when they need to know of God’s love the most. It pays for my tuition, too, which is, you know…important.

The great sixteenth century Carmelite reformer Saint Teresa of Avila once wrote a poem called Christ Has No Body. I’ve found various versions of this, and here is one of them:

Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours; Yours are the eyes through which to look out Christ’s compassion on the world. Yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good; Yours are the hands with which He is to bless men now.

Teresa of Avila makes an important point here—although Christ is truly present in tabernacles across the world in the Blessed Sacrament—the Eucharist—we are the ones who do His work. We are the ones who are compelled by our faith in Him to love all that we encounter and to do good deeds in His name. Even in the Church, when the priest is celebrating the sacraments, it is as if Christ Himself were doing it, as the priest acts in the image of Christ. Through a deep relationship with Christ, others should truly see Him through us. Blessed John Henry Newman even went so far as to pray that others may look at him and only see Jesus.

So, going back to that Sunday School image—it is true that Christ is the bridge that brings us to His Father. However, it is important to remember that the bridge is His body—and that we are His body. Through our activities as the Body of Christ, as a Church, we truly bring others to Christ. We truly become a bridge.

Yet, this isn’t simply done by working at a soup kitchen once a month. Bridges need to be strong.

The Building Materials.

Right now back home, the city is in the process of building two bridges that cross the majestic—and filthy—Ohio River into Indiana, one downtown and one in the East End. There’s a lot of differing opinions on whether or not these bridges are actually needed, so the city needs to make sure that the bridges are good—they need to ensure that building these bridges will actually improve the driving situation in the city, specifically for those who have to make the commute to the land of Hoosiers and back. Some of the hopes that I’ve heard, and agree with, is that the bridge won’t need work for a while—because we live in a city that is absolutely tired of road construction. Not only for that reason, but for our very safety, the bridges need to be strong. They need to be made out of quality materials (and with the rumor of paying tolls, they better be!)

In looking at ourselves as bridges—as bridges that are the presence of Christ to the world—there are a few building materials that I think are essential. These are: authenticity, humility, perseverance, and presence.

Authenticity.

After four years of living in community, I can say that one of the best (and sometimes most annoying) parts is that you see who people really are. In some ways, it’s beautiful, as you see someone discover more and more who they are, and in other ways, it’s difficult if you see, or even experience, someone having a hard time coming to grips with who they are.

An important lesson I learned in seminary (and is always my advice to new seminarians) is this: be yourself. Make it a priority. Now, of course, be yourself in the context of also being open to growth in who you are and how you behave. “Be yourself” may sound overly simplified, but I think it is important, because I don’t think formation can work unless we are who we are. We, and our formators, have to know what we are working with. If you haven’t figured it out already, I like quotes. A friend once posted an anonymous quote on social media that I think speaks to this. It said, “God created you to be you, not someone else. So don’t waste your time. Got it?”

Authenticity is also important because often times, people can see right through us if we aren’t authentic. It’s especially true with young people—they can smell your bull crap from a hundred miles away. But, adults can sense it, too. If people know that we are being authentic with them, becoming a bridge becomes easier. If we aren’t being authentic—they’ll know, and we might as well take dynamite to the bridge in progress.

Saint Irenaeus is attributed with saying, “The glory of God is man fully alive”. To me, when I hear that, it is a statement of authenticity. So, if you want to glorify God, be who He created you to be.

In my opinion, authenticity is about more than being ourselves, but it speaks to our very faith as well. But, I’ll talk about that more later on my list of building materials.

Humility.

In the Christian life, humility is important. Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, the first American saint (and also the spiritual-directee of the namesake of my college seminary) once said, “The gate of heaven is very low; only the humble can enter it”. Saint Therese, one of the most popular modern Saints, is known for her profound humility.

If pride is at the root of every sin, than it is humility that helps us to defeat our sin. As Saint Augustine said, “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels”. If it is sin that has created a canyon between us and the Father, than humility must be an essential part of the bridge to overcome that canyon.

Humility is even spoken of over and over again in scripture. When I was growing up, during Lent, my dad and I went to Mass every Wednesday and Friday. Before Wednesday Mass, Fr. Cecil (no relation that I know of) would lead the congregation in the Holy Rosary, and before Friday Mass, he would lead the Stations of the Cross. In this particular version of the stations, there were a lot of scripture passages, and Fr. Cecil would often be speaking in the character of Christ. Something that struck me every time he did it was one line from the Gospels—it was something about the tone of his voice—it was almost as if he stressed it, as if he said it differently: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 14:11, NAB) It was as if Fr. Cecil wanted to impress upon us the sense of the importance of humility. (And I can say, he was a model of humility and a blessing to everyone he encountered and served.)

Something that struck me in this whole discussion of doormats and bridges is that in both insights from Matt Maher and Dr. Kreeft, it was humility that was stressed. In Dr. Kreeft’s case, it was because the question directly involved humility. However, in Maher’s case, it involved a humble act. He spoke of the importance of lying down in his ministry. Here one cannot help but be reminded of this act of humility in other circumstances, particularly in the sense of vocation. In the sacrament of Holy Orders, the man being ordained prostrates himself on the ground. The same happens in some religious communities when one is making their vows. It is an act of humility—a sense of dying to self.

I find it interesting what Dr. Kreeft says, that the humble man is one who “has no opinion of himself.” I’m reminded here of the words of the great Christian British author CS Lewis, who said, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it is thinking of yourself less”.

Essentially, it seems that it would be impossible to be a humble doormat. Becoming a doormat involves having a low opinion of ourselves, or as Lewis puts it, thinking less of yourself.

This is particularly striking in our culture—one that focuses on the individual and tells us to think only about ourselves—how are we to think of ourselves less? How are we to have no opinion of ourselves?

I could go on and on about what countless saints and other individuals have said about humility, but I won’t. I think it’s evident: without humility, becoming a bridge is impossible.

Perseverance.

This third building material on my list involves the previous two. In the section of authenticity, I wrote that I would pick up the topic again here.

I think that authenticity, especially in terms of becoming a bridge, is about more than being ourselves—it involves our faith as well. There’s a difference between being a Christian by name, and actually being a Christian.

For evidence of this, we can turn to someone who wasn’t even a Christian—Mahatma Gandhi, who said two things in relation to Christianity. “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ”, and, “If all Christians acted like Christ, the whole world would be Christian”.

Basically, he’s calling us out on our lack of authenticity.

Truly being a Christian—and really, to be a good bridge—requires authenticity in our faith. It requires that we acknowledge that we are indeed sinners, but that we are also forgiven and saved by the grace of God and the Cross of Christ.

That requires that our faith not be something that is moderated, for as Lewis said in The Screwtape Letters, speaking as the demon Screwtape, “A moderated religion is as good for us as no religion at all”. I also saw something on social media that said, “The devil doesn’t care if you go to church and read your Bible, as long as you don’t apply it to your life”.

Being an authentic Christian today is hard. Partly, it’s because it requires us to work toward becoming someone greater than we are at the moment—to become like Christ. Not only that, but our culture presents challenges as well.

In a world that is okay with killing a child in the womb, redefining marriage, forcing nuns to pay for contraceptives, telling us that happiness can be found in a bottle or in the back seat of a car with an almost complete stranger, or that we are all entitled to our own versions of the truth that are all in conflict with one another (that’s relativism, my friends…it’s lame. Don’t do it.), being a Christian is truly counter-cultural.

But this shouldn’t shock us. Jesus was counter-cultural.

So, if we claim to want to follow Jesus, doesn’t it make sense that we would be, too? (Note: there’s a difference between being counter-cultural, and being a jerk. Everything must be said and done in love.)

Saint Benedict says in the fourth chapter of his Rule, that “your way of acting should be different from the world’s way”. He’s in heaven. I’m going to take his advice.

Being counter-cultural is hard. Being a Christian is hard. But what things in life are worth doing if they don’t challenge us? What things in life do we cherish if they don’t require some sort of perseverance? But, it’s worth it. I don’t believe that literally thousands of people throughout the centuries would spill their own blood rather than forsake Christ if He wasn’t the Truth. People generally aren’t willing to die for a lie.

I think a final part of perseverance, especially in our faith, can be learned from Saint Therese. A few years ago, I visited a Carmelite monastery, and when I left, one of the Sisters gave me a flipbook of quotes from the great Carmelite Saint. Every so often, I randomly flip to a new quote, and recently, I flipped to this:

This quote is simple, yet profound. We seek Christ, yet so often, we are distracted by what “sparkles”: our cellphones, social media, sports…in some ways, even ourselves. We can become so distracted by these things that we overlook the hidden, yet essential treasure that is Christ. This lead to some good reflection for me, and I think it would be beneficial for others too—what are the things that sparkle in your life? What are the things that sparkle in such a way that they distract you from Christ?

Through the things the sparkle, through the struggle of being counter-cultural—always look to Christ—persevere.

Presence.

It’s hard for a bridge to function if it’s not actually there.

Okay, that sounds really stupid, I know. But, it’s important to think about.

If when we are with others, we aren’t really with them, how can we expect to properly function as a bridge? We can’t.

Presence is something that I think just about every person in today’s world struggles with—particularly millennials. That’s partially, or mostly, because we are obsessed with ourselves and our cellphones. I’ll admit, I’ve fallen victim to this. It’s so easy to pull out my phone and "quickly" check my Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, text-messages, and emails…you know, because I’m important—and apparently, more important than the person I’m with. At least, that’s the message it sends. This is something I recognize I struggle with—partially because it’s part of my generation—but it is something I’m really working on. If I really want to minister to people, if I want to be a bridge—heck, if I even want to have good relationships—I have to be with people—and not with myself in the virtual world of my phone. Now, all of those things are great tools—especially for keeping in touch with some of my dear friends who are far away—but, with all things, there is a time and a place, and at the lunch table or in the middle of a conversation is neither one of them.

I’m Shutting Up.

“FINALLY!” I know you’re thinking it. It’s okay. This has been a long post. Part of that is because I’ve been thinking about this stuff for a couple of months now, but I think part of it is also because it needed to be. It’s a complex subject.

That conference with one of my best friends was an awesome experience, and we’re hoping to go back in the future. Part of that experience was hearing these two great speakers share these insights and being able to think about what it really means. It’s good for a young person to use their minds for more than coming up with a clever Tweet.

May we all work to be bridges—to bring Christ to others—to be authentic, to be humble, to persevere, and to be present—and in all things, may God be glorified. Amen.