There are times when I feel like I bring out the worst in people. It's my superpower.
When I was sixteen, I met a group of religious during my time discerning my vocation. They seemed like really nice people. I went to their monastry occasionally for retreats throughout my young adulthood, and it was at one such retreat where I met my husband. He had been an active volunteer for this community for about fifteen years at the time we had met. The writings of the founder had formed his faith life, and he gave me a book to read. I read it. He had set many of these writings to music, and I listened to them.
I asked him why these songs, that were so important to the community here, were not everywhere the community had missionaries. He said that the head of the order did not give him credit or endorse his work. He had accepted that God would get his music in the right hands if that was His will. He was working for God and not the head of the order. Being me, I asked the head of the order about it. Apparently, there was a difference of opinion regarding my husband's choice to homeschool his post-high school education rather than attend a university. This decision made him unsuitable for her endorsement. She felt a formal higher education was vital to one's adult experience. Politics. Not religion.
I found my own formal education to be lacking in truths and heavy in agenda. I was eager to hear about the writings of Thomas Aquinas from my husband. My "Catholic" college experience taught me about Sartre instead. My husband had to correct all of the theology I had learned because none of it was in line with Catholic teaching. And yet, the more he gave to the order of his time, talent, and treasure, the less he got back to sustain himself. The only healthy thing to do was to walk away. I was the reason. He knew he was loved, and he didn't have to endeavor to earn the order's approval anymore. My fault. Politics. Not religion.
Now, here we are, another fifteen years later, and God put someone in my life to remind me of the writings of the founder of the order. Not the head of the order. Now is the time to heal. Now is the time to forgive. Now is the time to be at peace. Not politics. Religion.
What I mean is that each of you is asserting, "I belong to Paul," or "I belong to Apollos," or "I belong to Cephas," or "I belong to Christ." Has Christ now been divided? Did Paul die on the cross for you? Was it in Paul's name that you were baptized? 1 Cor 1: 12-13