The late comedian Milton Berle once told a story about two psychiatrists who were at a convention and boasting to one another about their cases.
One asked the other, "What was the most difficult case that you solved?"
The other answered, "I once had a patient who lived in a pure fantasy world. He believed that somewhere in South America, he had a wealthy uncle who would someday leave him a great fortune. Every day, all day, he would sit in his house and...
The late comedian Milton Berle once told a story about two psychiatrists who were at a convention and boasting to one another about their cases.
One asked the other, "What was the most difficult case that you solved?"
The other answered, "I once had a patient who lived in a pure fantasy world. He believed that somewhere in South America, he had a wealthy uncle who would someday leave him a great fortune. Every day, all day, he would sit in his house and wait for a letter with the good news from some fictitious attorney. He never went out or did anything. He just sat around and waited for this non-existent letter."
"Well," asked the other psychiatrist, "what was the result?"
The psychiatrist boasted, "It was an eight-year struggle, but with determined skill and insight, I finally cured him."
"That's amazing," said the other psychiatrist. To which he replied, "Yeah, and then that stupid letter arrived……"
That story is about pride, and we're delighted to hear stories like this because we like to see people's bubbles burst. Indeed, pride always goes before a fall.
But pride has many sides. In today's Gospel, pride is about hypocrisy, and hypocrisy is about not practicing what we preach; it's also about saying things we don't believe to get something like some position in society.
Why do people do this? Again, it's about pride. It's pride that makes us embellish our deeds. Pride makes us say things for appearance's sake, things we don't actually believe or practice. Pride wants a place of honor without true, deeper honor. It's pride that wants all the accolades without integrity. It's pride that is behind hypocrisy and which fuels hypocrisy.
Perhaps the worst kind of hypocrisy is religious hypocrisy, which is why Jesus was so hard on the Pharisees, the religious leaders of the day. It's worse because it is not expected from those who are "officially" religious and because it is often so subtle.
Alan Paton tells a funny story about a rabbi, a cantor, and a janitor. The Days of Atonement came, and, as required, the rabbi stood in the synagogue and did the traditional gesture. He struck his breast and intoned three times, "I am nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing." Then, the cantor took his turn. In a well-modulated voice, he sang, "I am nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing." The poor, humble janitor, seeing this, also struck his breast and said, "I am nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing." And the rabbi turned to the cantor and said, "Well, well, look who thinks he's nothing!"
There's another reality in the Church that some people call hypocrisy, but it isn't. If it's anything, it's noble. This refers not to those who don't practice or believe what they preach. It refers to the person who isn't quite sure about what the Church teaches, who struggles with things that happen in the world and wonders why but goes to Church and prays anyway. They aren't there so much out of conviction but in search of God. They aren't hypocrites; they are on a journey to find God, and they have hope that either somewhere along the journey, they will get a glimpse of God or find God at the end of the journey. This journey has an honorable place in the Christian tradition. This is the discipline of someone keeping up appearances, not to mislead, but to find some sign that God really is there and really cares.
To understand this tradition, we can look at Simeon of the Gospel, a man who for thirty years came to the Temple every day looking for the Messiah and who for thirty years went away disappointed. Who came out of duty, out of hope, out of need, out of simple routine. Who eventually got bored and felt as if he got nothing out of being at the Temple, but he was giving much. His was true worship, focusing away from himself and instead on the search for God's Chosen One. That's why he eventually got to look into the face of the Messiah, cradle him in his arms, and sing a song of thanksgiving. For him, it all came together on one day, as it will for many people like him.
These people are not hypocrites. They are not full of pride. If anything, they are full of humility. They are, in a word, faithful. Because of their persistence and hope in things they cannot see, they will surely be welcomed into the house of the Lord.
[Adapted from a sermon by Fr. William Bausch]
