It's Not About You

“It’s not about you.”  They weren’t the words I wanted to hear, but they were the words I needed to hear.  After I recovered from my initial indignation – I wasn’t used to being spoken to in such a brusque and candid manner – I realised he was right. 

More than twenty years later, these words of a wise Scotsman reverberate in my ears almost every day. They are my ‘shortcut’ for the Litany of Humility, a quick reminder to ditch my self-absorption.  They are the boiled down version of why I became a Catholic.

Like most ‘non-denominational’ Protestants, I didn’t see the harm in church shopping.  I worshipped where I felt I was getting the most out of the services, places where I felt enthused and supported in my relationship with God.  The problem was that it was all about me and my needs, and when I wasn’t feeling so great, not only did my worship of God suffer, but my entire faith was cast into doubt.  In short, my relationship with God was a rollercoaster built upon the ups and downs of my emotions.

My first hint that I was suffering from self-absorption was when I entered a Catholic cathedral and noticed there was something different, that it wasn’t just a building.  Eventually, I connected that with the Real Presence, but it took a while.  Soon afterwards, I heard the words “it’s not about you” or something like them, and that was when I knew I had to become a Catholic.  It was like being winded.  Metaphorically, the impact and inability to breathe was frightening and even humiliating – I remember my eyes smarting with tears – but that first breath afterwards made me so grateful to be alive… and so grateful to have been enlightened as to my folly.

At last, I didn’t have to battle my emotions and force myself to be happy and extroverted.  I could worship God as I was, whether full of joy or completely down in the dumps.  Being depressed was no longer an impediment to my faith, and I didn’t feel guilty every time I went to Church and found myself unable to sing with joy.  All because it wasn’t about me.

So it really saddens me whenever I meet Catholics who have abandoned regular Sunday Mass.  They tell me that they don’t get enough out of it or that the Church hasn’t met the changing needs of society.  And my response to them is: it’s not about you.

It’s not about what makes you feel good or fits into your schedule.  It’s not your day, but the Lord’s Day.  If you don’t feel you’re getting ‘enough’ out of Mass, then you need to ask yourself why you don’t feel receiving Jesus Himself is enough for you.  If God Himself, sacrificed on Calvary, seems insufficient, then the problem isn’t with the Mass or with the Church, but with you.

We all fall into the ‘me’ trap, of course, and that’s why I love those four words, this brief phrase I can use to jolt myself back into reality. “It’s not about you,” I whisper to myself.

This is what I say to myself when I’m tempted to accept an invitation to do a reading or be cantor of the psalm.  My pride tells me (not incorrectly) that I can deliver the words with more beauty, gravity, and poise than others, but it’s not about me, and my place is not in the Sanctuary.  It’s what I say to myself when I’m fretting over what to wear or which Mass to attend, because if I go to Mass to make an impression or see my friends then it’s for all the wrong reasons.

It’s something I’d like all of us to whisper to ourselves, not in a harsh or humiliating manner, but in gentle admonishment.  And we may need to say it to someone else.  That’s what family and friends are for – who else will speak the truth in love? – especially parents who have a responsibility to guide their children on the straight and narrow path. 

So, if my daughters ever ask to be altar servers I will tell them no.  “It’s not about you and what you want to do,” I will say.  “Your brothers and other Catholic boys have a duty to learn and discern whether they should be priests when they grow up.  Don’t get in their way.”  And the next time someone tells me that contraception isn’t a big deal, especially because NFP is so effective, hopefully I’ll have the guts to respond that it’s not about them and their plans.

Of course, I’m too much of a coward to say this to all the brides who parade down the aisle in strapless evening dresses, flanked by bridesmaids bursting out our their bodices.  I don’t have the heart to spoil their big day.  So I’ll say it now instead, in the off season, because this is how so many Catholic marriages get off to a bad start.  Brides, it’s not about you, and it’s not your day.  If you can’t share the glory of your wedding with your new husband, what sort of precedent are you setting for your marriage?  And if you can’t bring yourself to honour God in His House when you ask for His blessing on your marriage, how Catholic will that marriage be? 

You see, the seemingly little things do matter.  When we indulge our pride we set off on the wrong path.  It isn’t easy to pray for humility, but we’re all capable of saying to ourselves occasionally: it’s not about you.  And that’s a good start.