By Patrick Schmadeke
Evangelization in the World Today
If there is sin in the world it is because sin has invaded our hearts, weakening our will and clouding our judgment. The struggle for our soul is not exterior, but interior. As St. Paul wrote: “I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me” (Romans 7:19-20).
I was quite disturbed when I first read Flannery O’Connor’s short story, “Greenleaf.” I read it again recently and that disruption remains. Sin is at work in the story, not like some demon creeping through the shadows to whisper into someone’s ear but like the long lethargy of a streak of August humidity. The story’s main character, Mrs. May, owns a small farm. By many accounts her life would be alright. Not without major challenges, but not without good. In her mind, her two adult sons are complete failures and her tenant (Mr. Greenleaf) is of suspect character. She thinks people are out to take advantage of her. As the story unfolds, the reader becomes aware that Mrs. May sees everything through the lens of her own brokenness.
The story draws to a close with a bull loose in the pasture. Mrs. May demands that Mr. Greenleaf chase it down and kill it. Ever smug, she waits and watches while sitting on the bumper of her car. To me, she seemed intoxicated by her self-righteousness, hypnotized by her anger, spellbound by her certainty. She does not respond to the bull charging at her from a distance. Still set in her ways, she does not move. The bull spears her abdomen and, in a moment as brief as a flash of light, she sees Mr. Greenleaf running towards her and shooting the bull. This deathbed is the only moment of self-awareness we get in the story — maybe. Nobody can control Mrs. May. Nobody can force her to see the world as it truly is. Nobody can convince her of anything. Her actions are as reactionary as a patellar tendon responding to a reflex hammer.
Mrs. May fell victim to her vision of the way of the world. She thought the people around her should share that vision. Though she is not made out to be a great sinner, sin has fractured her heart. It is a tragic vision with great collateral damage to those around her. The people in her life are the victims of her insatiable lust for lovelessness — she loves no one, not even her sons.
Flannery’s point is: we all become, or at least become subject to, what we admire, what we hold dear, what we wish were the case, and we become willing to evangelize on behalf of that vision. All too often, the vision leads to trading in idols. We mostly do not craft idols on purpose — we do not go out of our way to disorder our loves. Nor are the idols typically as obvious as a golden calf — my idols tend to be subtle shadow sides of genuine goods that creep into daily life through the door of pride. We need a rightly ordered life, so our vision must be Jesus.
This vision is not Mrs. May’s vision. Where she could only see the world through her brokenness, Jesus could only see the world through healing. Where she could only see the world through disappointment, Jesus could only see the world through relationship. Where she could only see the world through blame, Jesus could only see the world through forgiveness. I feel deep sympathy for Mrs. May — I know her and at times have been her. She is not the opposite of Christ, she is exactly who Christ came to save, to encounter, to heal. Mrs. May is who we all are called to bring good news to.
In Greenleaf, Mrs. May is unwilling to love or be loved. She is unwilling, or maybe unable, to see the love that transforms the world. That is, until the end — maybe. The reader doesn’t know for sure. She sees Mr. Greenleaf running towards her. Is her passing thought that Mr. Greenleaf seeks to aide her? Or is her thought patterned after her daily life: this is Mr. Greenleaf’s fault. In the end, we do not know where her heart is. Is it healed? Or is it still stone?
To look upon the face of Jesus is to gaze into the eyes of he who embodied the Spirit — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control (Galatians 5:22). The criteria of the Christian life is to imitate his way and walking; the authenticity of our imitation is proportional to the degree that he is our friend and beloved. We must turn to no other visage than his.
(Patrick Schmadeke is director of evangelization for the Diocese of Davenport.)
