I mean to blow the cover on all us guys. The Roman Catholic priest and teacher Richard Rohr told this story in a recent conference. He was invited to Germany to speak on male spirituality. When he arrived he found the church full—mostly of young men. He explained how his studies reveal that in all the primal cultures of the world there is a formal initiation rite for men, but only rarely for women. You see, girls become women naturally, but boys must be taught how to become men. They must be taught what to do with the pain life will hand them, for, as Fr. Rohr says, if a man cannot transform his pain he will inevitably transmit it. He must be taught to sit with the pain and hold it until it teaches him wisdom. After his talk a young man stood up. He thanked Fr. Rohr for coming, and added, “All of us young men are here because we are generation whose grandfathers were killed…,” and he spoke of World War I. He spoke of looking for a father figure with no guidance and choosing unwisely in the person of Adolf Hitler. He spoke, then, of how WWII killed their fathers. “And now,” he continued, “we stand here, and we don’t know what to do. Oh, we know you Americans make fun of how tough we are, ‘Achtung’ and all that, but it’s all a big front, a lie we’ve told so long we’ve begun to believe it ourselves. Inside we Germans are all just scared little boys.” When we was done Fr. Rohr said, “I’ve preached all over the world. You speak not only for the young German men, but for every young man in the world. Inside our clothes we’re all just naked and scared little boys, so full of hurt we’re afraid—afraid of ourselves.

The sadness seems so overwhelming and the fear so justified that very often we act like the Jews in today’s Gospel lesson. They ask Jesus accusingly, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” They seem to say, “Tell us plainly—it’s your fault we don’t know.” The greatest way we avoid dealing with unfinished hurt is to blame someone else for it: “He caused my pain, she is the problem, they are wrong or evil or destructive. Just get rid of them or fix them or change them and my world will be at peace once more!” So much of what passes for male anger is really unfinished hurt. But Jesus responds, “I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name, they bear witness to me.” Every healing, every feeding, every time He walked on water, every exorcism, every miracle served as an illustration and confirmation of His teaching. But they didn’t get it. They were not of His sheep. His sheep hear His voice and follow Him. You can tell who is one of His sheep and who is not by where they’re going. The Good Shepherd always leads the sheep on a path He has traveled already. That path took Him through the ultimate of human suffering, through death itself, bearing in His body the pain of the whole of creation. And, and having gone into the final reaches of the our pain, the end of its consequence, Hell itself, having held that pain without transmitting it, having faced the terror of the enormity of it, he stands again on the earth resurrected, powerful and good, wise and compassionate, the model of what we can reflect when we do the same. The voice of the Shepherd calls to us men from beyond our pain, calling us to unmask our fear, and offering us freedom.

Those who choose to walk toward the Master walk toward their fear. They hold their pain until it teaches them Godly wisdom. They choose to be sheep. Those who turn away become blinded by the fear they deny, they blame others for their fear, anger and sadness. They choose not to be sheep. Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice, …they follow me; …and no one shall snatch them out of my hand!” Guys, I would not blow our cover if I didn’t think it was safe. With Him it is safe to let down our guard, admit our fear, and begin to weep through the pain that fills us, until we come to renewed life. In the midst of our powerlessness Jesus is the powerful one. This, my friends, is Easter.

What, then, is our response? The quandary of a Transitional church such as ours is that we are often caught in a catch 22: Somehow we must be able to start it all at once and keep it in the air until it begins to go on its own! We need the people to run the programs, and we need the programs to attract the people. We need the finances to build the programs and we need the programs to inspire our stewardship. We need the space to run the programs that will inspire our stewardship so we can have the funds to build the space! Sometimes it all seems incredibly painful and overwhelming! We could find someone to blame. There are always lots of ready-made options: The problems in the national church, our transient community, our location, lack of gifts and resources, so-and-so in the parish, or our priest! We could tell God we don’t feel bound to unfunded mandates!”

Or we could be sheep and follow the Crucified One who bore the pain and made it into Easter: Resist the temptation to blame and do what we can with what we have, be upfront about the needs and responsible with the gifts have, keep first things first, and be gracious when things fall through the cracks, until we all understand that our best effort is absolutely required, but in the end the growth of this parish is by His gracious blessing. The success of this parish is His responsibility, the faithfulness of our action is ours.

The same is true in our lives. The average young couple works longer for less buying power than I did when I was in my 20’s, and I worked longer and harder for less buying power than my folks at the same age. When we get squeezed we get afraid, and when we get afraid we men get angry and hold someone else responsible. But as Fr. Rohr says, it’s never about the other. It’s never about the Muslim radicals or the liberal left or the conservative right. It’s never about your spouse or your kids or your boss or your employee. It’s never about the obnoxious neighbor or the other driver. It’s about you! Unless you learn to transform your pain you will invariably transmit it!

We are called to kneel before the crucified One, who walked through pain and made it into Easter. Live your faith, then: Face down the anger and hold the pain. Resist the temptation to blame or jump to hasty fix-it solutions. Hold it until it teaches you to be wise and compassionate. How long do we hold the pain? Fr. Rohr’s challenge is indeed a big one: Follow the example of Christ, the One who told us to forgive 70 times 7, the One who forgave those who murdered Him, and the One because of whom it says in Romans 8:1, “There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.” Hold the pain until we no longer have to blame anyone, not even ourselves!

Fr. Paul Moore+