One cannot have standing in both courts

We can see unmistakably today that there are two courts of finding – that of society, and of God. A follower of Christ will not enjoy esteem in both. One must make his choice, and once he does, it becomes more difficult to pretend to have standing on the other side.

If we embrace Truth, we’re met with barbs, mockery, sometimes abandonment … but ultimately, an affirming embrace of God. If we reject Truth, or feign acceptance of it but behave otherwise, He will not be fooled. He isn’t ‘woke’, politically correct, or cool. His Truth is refreshingly reliable and unchanging … in a word, Absolute. His teaching is, and has always been, perfectly transparent. But it’s a finger ready to draw a line in the sand.
And it can burn a hole through the disingenuous.

There are startling ways of learning this anew, even when we think we’re comfortable with the faith.

One summer evening about 20 years ago, we invited two couples — longtime friends — for dinner. Our kids went to school together, and we were in the same parish.

For years, my husband and I enjoyed hosting special dinners. Planning a lovely occasion is something we’ve relished with good friends, family, even colleagues. I would enjoy poring over recipes, shining silver and crystal, making things from scratch, outfitting rooms with fresh flowers, and arranging nice background music. My husband would freshen the flower beds outside, add new annuals, hanging baskets, and potted arrangements by the front door. He’d even prime his prized putting green. Then we were ready.

Okay, so starting off with two pitchers of watermelon martinis — a little on the rocket-fuel side — could have unhinged the evening’s conversation. We were leisurely enjoying a braciole dinner with open windows, the sun setting, and smooth jazz, when the discussion turned to what our kids were planning college-wise.

We exchanged school ideas, what intended studies were, and then one of the wives asked why we were zeroing in on a certain obscure Catholic college. I noticed she’d just polished off the second martini pitcher, splattering some on the rug.

Attempting to ignore the stain, I tried to casually express that we — and he — wanted the framework for his history major to be firmly Catholic. Four sets of eyeballs froze in my direction.

Taking a hard left, they joked about college kids coming home with surprise ‘conditions’ and bold ‘outings.’ One said she’d always support whatever their choices were. Now I was envisioning a martini pitcher all to myself. Their hysterical, frenetic laughter shrieked on. The gag was on us.

I was jarred into speaking.

“Uh, sorry folks, can’t agree,” I said, my voice loud and shuddering. Now perspiring and wanting the night to end, I was choking on my words: we wouldn’t cheer-lead serious sin, college-spawned or not. That cinched it. They struggled to their feet, swigged drinks, and made reasons to leave – chuckling back to their cars.

Typical of my husband, he simply said, “Now that was a fun evening, don’t ya think?” 

CHRISTINE VALENTINE-OWSIK is Legatus magazine’s editor.