St. Philip Neri had a twisted sense of humor. Once, when invited to a particularly swanky party, he intuited that the host simply wanted him there so he could show him off to the other guests. In response, St. Philip shaved off half his beard – only one side – before attending the party. His mortified host attempted to ignore him, but the priest stayed right by his side all night.
What was the point of such a display? Partly it was just because the great saint thought it was funny. Partly it was a lesson in humility for the party host and St. Philip. He wanted to be a holy fool. He wanted people to stop turning him into a celebrity when the real focus was supposed to be on God. His solution to being overly admired was to become so incredibly embarrassing that people would stop fawning over him.
This sort of creative, humorous, and extreme behavior was typical of St. Philip. He wasn’t a man willing to live by half-measures. Knowing this, it isn’t a surprise that he was willing to bear any number of insults on behalf of Christ. He wasn’t interested in being treated with respect or fairness, and wasn’t concerned for his own dignity, or what anyone else thought of him.
Because of this, he’s a man uniquely positioned to advise on how to forgive others when they insult us.
I don’t know about you, but I really, really like to hold a good grudge. I pretend I don’t like conflict, but secretly, I do. I’m so good at it, in fact, that I may be holding a grudge against you right now for something you said years ago that you don’t even remember saying and may not even realize bothered me at the time you said it. I am far too quick to take offense and far too slow to forgive. I’ve convinced myself that my personal dignity needs to be defended at all costs. And, of course, if I’m always worried about others then I won’t have to look so hard at my own self, so I’ve developed a deep, misguided need to always be on the alert. I want to know if I need to take offense.
St. Philip, as the beard incident illustrates, doesn’t think this way at all.
Quite the opposite, his main interest lies in how to correct his own flaws. Instead of pridefully engaging in grudge-holding, he curates interior humility. This means that he’s always looking to forgive others, not quarrel with them. My guess is that, even though he played an embarrassing practical joke on that party host, he was never, even for a single moment, angry or offended at him. Instead, I think that St. Philip saw a great opportunity to help the man return his proper focus to God and, at the same time, humiliate his own self.
A bit of practice -- and how to do it
Because he was so eccentric and because he was a serious and influential Catholic priest, St. Philip endured many insults. If you’re Catholic, my guess is that you do, too. Perhaps it’s the mild mockery of people making fun of the Pope to see how you’ll react, or ridiculing your morality, or the size of your family. Maybe you suffer a far more serious relationship issue within a friend group or your family. When that happens, our first instinct is to defend our honor and prove that we’re in the right. This only makes the rift worse. This is when struggles with unforgiveness become an ongoing problem.
St. Philip advises a different method. He says that, instead of defending ourselves, all we need is a little practice at not defending ourselves. Learn to gracefully receive insults, because the world is opposed to the Church and we shouldn’t expect to ever be fully accepted. We’re going to have to endure at least some persecution for the sake of Christ, even if it’s mild.
St. Philip suggests that we practice controlling our emotions by creating scenarios in our mind in which we are insulted. Think about someone laughing at your large family in the grocery checkout line and how you will respond. Think about what you’ll do when it’s Friday in Lent and you’re not eating meat at the extended family dinner and everyone looks at you like you’re from another planet. Imagine someone trying to push your buttons and how, if it happens again in real life, you’ll react more calmly. Picture the fight you keep having over and over again with your spouse and how, before your emotions and bad habits draw you back into the same fight again, you’ll quietly forgive your spouse and love him even if he says something hurtful.
Imaginative exercises like this go a long way in helping us control our emotions. Thinking about imaginary scenarios in a calm, reasonable manner provides time and space to remind ourselves that, yes, people say insulting things but, no, they don’t always mean it, or don’t understand how much they’re hurting you. And even if they do – and this is important – even if they do mean to hurt you, St. Philip says that if we imagine even an intentional hurt, it can bring us into a closer relationship with Christ on the Cross.
Forgiveness isn’t easy. It takes practice and intentional effort. Many of us have fallen into the habit of quickly and easily taking offense and it isn’t a quick process to change. The effort is worth it, though, because all the energy we put into quarreling and grudge-holding is far better used in pursuit of joy and happiness. Life is too short to wallow in unforgiveness.
“If a man finds it very hard to forgive injuries,” St. Philip advises, “let him look at a crucifix, and think that Christ has shed all His Blood for him, and not only forgave his enemies, but even prayed to his Heavenly Father to forgive them also.”
In other words, God doesn’t hold a grudge against us for all the ways we affront him literally every single day. In fact, he wishes the best for us. He sacrifices himself for us and, instead of putting his energy into creating divisions, he seeks to heal them.
The good news is that you don’t have to shave half your beard off. The even better news is that, if we practice, we can become much better at handling insults and, if we do, we will be much happier.
