Tunnel Vision

There are some parents on the playground I really can’t stand.

You know them, probably, if you’re a parent, or if you’re not, you know a different version of them. They’ll tell you about how their little Brayden is a bilingual violin prodigy who sleeps through the night and only ever asks to snack on vegetables. But as soon as Brayden starts to chase your screaming kid with a stick, they’re conveniently scrolling on their phone, unaware.

You’re not irritated that their kid is smarter than yours and likes veggies (well, maybe you are, a little). You’re irritated that they have tunnel vision. In striving for perfection, they have become unable to acknowledge imperfections.

If you’re reading this, you’re probably in church. If you’re in church, you’re probably someone who is concerned with what is right and what is wrong. I’ve got news for you: that might just make you (and me) more at risk of being like Brayden’s parent than the people who stayed home today.

Unclutch your pearls! It was good of you to come to Mass. Definitely keep doing that. That’s the right choice. Just don’t forget that in making the right choice, we don’t become righteous.

Look, I’m not going to lie to you. Sometimes, it’s my kids who are doing the chasing with the stick. They’re kids, and kids do dumb things, just like everyone else. And maybe it’s because they hate vegetables and sleep terribly that I’m less reluctant than Brayden’s mom to admit their mistakes. It’s a hard fall from the pedestal.

If we’re churchgoing followers of Christ, we are hopefully people who earnestly want to do the right thing. Maybe, sometimes, we do exactly that. The Pharisee did the right thing sometimes. He fasted. He tithed. But he gazed so long at his own holiness that he became blinded by it. He stood before God, and he could only think of what he had done right.

We need to stay vigilant, folks. Just when you look away, that’s when Brayden grabs the stick.

©LPi