February 7: Saint Moses

It's so easy to get angry and remain angry.  I inherited the ability to hold grudges for years, as evidenced by my last two blogs about Professor Ihateyourshittywriting.  That experience occurred over ten years ago, and I still go around telling people not to read her books because she was an asshole to me 15 or so years ago.  But I come across this trait naturally.  My father is the most stubborn man I've ever met.  He's, I believe, 83-years-old, and I don't think he's recovered from FDR being re-elected three times.  (My dad's a Republican in the let's-rid-the-world-of-the-red-menace-Ronald-Reagan kind of way.)  So, you see, I'm a bottle-fed grudge holder.

I'm not proud of this aspect of my personality.  It's un-Christian and unhealthy.  But I'm really good and funny at it, which makes me sort of a warmer, more charming version of someone like Bill O'Reilly (less the bigoted, small-minded, sphincter-headed, Republican opinions).  I've learned to accept my shortcoming and even turn it to my advantage in my blog posts.  I was watching a talk given by Ron Reagan Jr. on TV this weekend.  He was discussing how people who absolutely hated his father's politics would meet his father for a few minutes and come away saying, "Yeah, I don't agree with his policies, but he's a helluva nice guy."  I hope that's the way I come off.

You might be wondering where I'm headed with this little ramble.  Well, when I taught my Sunday School class yesterday, I had the people in it write about a time "when you gave in/surrendered to something you've been fighting a long time."  In my journal response, I found myself writing about a feud I've been having with a relative for years.  Let's call him Robert, because I harbor a dislike for the actor Robert Pattinson (mostly because he's young, good-looking, and over-rated).  My Robert is just as stubborn, mean, petty, and spiteful as I can be.  As I said, it runs in the family.  However, he is not half as witty or winning as me.  Therefore, he's just plain angry and ugly at times. Even thinking about my altercations with him right now causes my heart to pound a little faster and harder. As I wrote about him for Sunday School, I realized how much effort I expend at being angry at him, how tired and frustrated it makes me feel. It's like watching an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and realizing that the "before" condition of the house is better than the current condition of your own home. It just sucks the energy and happiness right out of you.

Moses, today's feast saint, is known for being a peacemaker.  He was a hermit who lived "in the region between Syria and Egypt" in the fourth century.  Because of his reputation for holiness, Moses was eventually persuaded to become bishop of the region, and he spent the rest of his life securing peace between the Romans and the Saracens ("nomad tribes of the Syro-Arabian desert").  Considering the current unrest in the Middle East and Egypt, the world could still use the healing powers of Moses.

And so could I.  It's so easy, however, to hang on to old hurts and habits.  I've gotten so used to disliking and dismissing Robert that to change my ways is tantamount to turning the Titanic.  Even though the iceberg's dead ahead, it takes a good mile of sea to alter course.  This is what I wrote in my journal for Sunday School:  "I'm just going to have to learn to love and accept Robert the way he is.  I know that's what Jesus does with me.  Therefore, I accept Robert, and all of his petty, childish, mean, competitive, cruel ways."

I guess Saint Moses would even want me to forgive him for Twilight and New Moon.