What An Angry Anti-Catholic Taught Me About Mercy

At a recent signing for my book, The Catholic Guide To Dating After Divorce, I had an encounter with a very angry man I will never forget.

As this fifty-something gentleman and his friend had passed by my table, he spotted the title of my book and laughed incredulously. About five paces later, he spun around and came right back to my table with a venomous look in his eyes.

Admittedly, I was nervous when I saw him coming my way. I knew this would be a challenging conversation, so I immediately prayed for the Holy Spirit’s guidance.

Anger... no, spitting fury shot out of his mouth as he spoke, and he revealed the source of his rage against the Church: a harsh and callous response to a deep hurt he had received as a teenager. He had come to the estimation that Catholics were not Christians at all, but insanely judgmental hypocrites. I silently searched for the right words to say and waited for my chance to interject, but the man barely stopped to take a breath.

The Heart of the Matter

As he raged on, he talked about this emotional wound he had and how no one had acknowledged this injustice or taken time to address that deep-seated hurt. Maybe his traditional Catholic family was to blame. Maybe it was a priest somewhere who had a cold response. I will never know. But, it was clear this wound was what had convinced him the Church and all her members were nothing but evil.

In Luke 12, Jesus promises, "When they bring you before the synagogues, the rulers, and the authorities, do not worry about how you are to defend yourselves or what you are to say; for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that very hour what you ought to say." I was relying heavily on this promise at this point.

He continued his rant, and I prayed for the Holy Spirit's inspiration so I could offer this man the truth in a compassionate way. I needed some kind of real, substantive response that would open his eyes to the truth. Something only the Holy Spirit knew he needed to hear. You know, that “Wow, I know those words didn’t come from me” kind of moment. But, the only thing I got in return was: Love him. That was it.

Love Your Neighbor

When his attack began to slow and lose its steam, I started asking him questions about his hurt. He gave surprisingly candid answers and one or two questions was all it took to begin unearthing the emotional landmine. By the time the conversation ended, he bought my book, shook my hand and said, “Thank you.”

I was stunned. As he walked away, I felt a tug of guilt… wait! I hadn’t converted him! I didn’t impart any pearls of wisdom or cite scripture verses! I didn’t change him! What kind of apostle was I? Why didn’t I do more?

The Face of Mercy

Mercy wears many faces. Sometimes, the face of mercy looks like one who offers forgiveness to an offender. Sometimes, it looks like someone who leaves his comfort zone and serves those who are less fortunate than him. Sometimes, it looks like a parent who refrains from having a meltdown when her child is disobedient and disrespectful, and sometimes, mercy looks like someone who listens. Just listens and loves.

Of course, we need to know our Catechism and our Bible scriptures, and we need to share them with enthusiasm and zeal. But sometimes that's not what our Divine Physician prescribes. Sometimes, what a person needs more than hitting him over the head with words is someone who is willing to offer their time and attention. Sometimes, that is what speaks to a heart the loudest.

I hope and pray that through my act of listening to him, that man will be able to see the Catholic Church is not the monster he’s made it out to be; that he is loved and an important part of the body of Christ. Maybe my purpose that day was to help pry open the door just a little bit. I pray that when the right person with all the pearls of wisdom does cross his path, he will be open to hearing the truth.

I invite you to join me in praying for that man and all the people out there who are angry with the Church, keeping in mind the beautiful words of St. Francis of Assisi, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”