I hope someone looks on you with generosity today. Chances you won’t be looking on people like that yourself, if you are like most of the people I ran into last week. What’s more, if you woke up today with a generous look at yourself, I’d be surprised. But we can learn. Pope Francis was trying to teach us.

In 2013, Pope Francis answered questions from reporters on a flight back from Brazil about whether there was a “gay lobby” in the Vatican. He reaffirmed the Roman Catholic Church’s position that homosexual acts are sinful, but homosexual orientation is not. He said, “It says they should not be marginalized because of this but that they must be integrated into society….The problem is not having this orientation. We must be brothers….If a person is gay and seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge?”

Some people were amazed he had the audacity not to judge gay people, the openness to call them brothers, and the conviction to insist they must not be marginalized. Some people criticized him roundly for not going far enough, for silencing gay voices in the Vatican, for condemning gay marriage acts, and so on.

As Pope Francis made his final journey through Rome last Saturday, the drones turned their scathing eye on every detail. I searched a few channels to find a commentator who did not center themselves and failed to find one. I tried to find one who paid attention to what was going on, who would even note what the procession was passing instead of making a quip and chatting. ABC kept adding a pop-up of someone they thought might keep us interested, while they ignored the journey itself or the ceremonies around it.

I wish they had demonstrated a discerning eye on what we were witnessing, receiving the good, assessing the evil, deciding how we relate and what we might bring to the moment or take away. But I think we are more defensive than ever when it comes to wisdom and sincerity. We instinctively turn a dismissive eye, a fearful eye, or a suspicious eye on what is coming at us, like everything is a piece of fruit to consume and we are checking for bruises. I think I see that suspicious eye played out at every four-way stop I come to in Philadelphia — so often, no one will take their turn, they are afraid of what I will do to them, I guess.

Afraid to be duped

As I was writing about some people from the past who deserve to be included in our list of great ancestors in the transhistorical body of Christ [tab above], I decided people must be so critical because they have been taken advantage of way too many times. We have a con man for our president, we are attacked by a deceptive ad everywhere we turn, we have been ripped-off by TikTok purchases, and so on. We don’t trust anyone.

As I read about renown Christians, the historians always had a moment of “being realistic” about them, as if we were all like the reporters on the plane trying to get Pope Francis to say something newsworthy or cringeworthy (which amounts to the same things these days). My clients often double check when they see me taking notes in the session, “The notes really are confidential right?” Some of them can’t be sure I won’t write a book about them or leak their foibles to the neighbors, who might do whatever.

When I read about Georges Cuvier, the groundbreaking 18^th/19^th century French father of paleontology, someone noted how his faith was too private, he was too scientific. Mechthild of Magdeburg, the beguine who became an author in the 1200’s, was too mystical and hard to understand, maybe she relied on men too much. The father of church history, Eusebius of Caesarea from the 300’s, was too political, too journalistic to even be considered an historian. I’ve been too something in the last few years, myself. That makes it easy to suspect first, trust maybe later.

We are surprisingly holy when it comes to our viewpoints, it seems. Many people feel obliged to turn a scathing eye on their subjects – the flaws in the video game, the actress’s hair, the small defects we highlight on restaurant or product reviews (the fact we all read such reviews). And, of course, we are also among our subjects to critique. Maybe we think we are so bad we need to make others look worse so we look better. I certainly know a number of people who can’t stand what they see in themselves so they project it on someone else and beat it up.

Generosity is the key

I am always surprised when people are mad at the apostle Paul when he sounds so judgmental. Chances are the readers are more judgmental when it comes to Paul than he is critical of anyone else. I even read an article the other day proposing that Paul’s prohibitions about women were added to his letters by some editor after he died. After all, Paul could not be some combination of red state and blue state ideas!

It would be nice if the readers were generous to themselves and Paul when they read instead of being defensive and suspicious. They might learn his tremendous generosity and hope. When Paul was imprisoned in Rome he wrote to his worried friends in Philippi:

I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually resulted in the progress of the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to everyone else that my imprisonment is for Christ, and most of the brothers and sisters, having been made confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, dare to speak the word with greater boldness and without fear.

Some proclaim Christ from envy and rivalry but others from goodwill. These proclaim Christ out of love, knowing that I have been put here for the defense of the gospel; the others proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely but intending to increase my suffering in my imprisonment.  What does it matter? Just this, that Christ is proclaimed in every way, whether out of false motives or true, and in that I rejoice. – Philippians 1:12-18

Paul is very generous, don’t you think? — even when it comes to the most important thing is his life, the gospel of Jesus! His generosity is striking in relationship to his very identity as the ambassador of Jesus, the witness to the resurrection, the messenger of reconciliation! He says, “People twist my message with their envy, rivalry and selfish ambition. No matter!” As Pope Francis would say, “Who am I to judge?” Paul says, “The gospel inevitably will be given with less-than-perfect motives by less-than-perfect people. I rejoice it is preached at all.”

“Rejoice in the Lord. Dwell on what is good,” Paul will tell the church later. How about turning that eye on the people you meet at the intersection (Rod!)? You can be holy and lonely or loving and lifechanging.

Paul was not a patsy and he was also not afraid of looking dumb. He had the natural generosity of seeing with a Jesus lens. He could even see the good in being imprisoned! If you think that makes him duped, then I think you might need a refresher course in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The self-giving love of Jesus is the picture of generosity.

I hope springtime gives us all, you in particular, a fresh opportunity to hope. I don’t know what was happening when Zelensky was talking to Trump in St. Peter’s the other day, but it was good they were talking. The American regime is terrible, but it is good that people are daring to say how terrible it is and looking for ways to get us out of this mess. Don’t miss your chance to tell your truth on May 1.

In it all, redish looking, blueish looking, some combo, let’s be generous. Let’s have some generosity with ourselves because we are basically not all put together. Have some generosity with others because they don’t need any more judgment than they have received, and they are probably piling it on themselves as we speak. And let’s be generous with God, who gets a surprising amount of criticism, who made a beautiful world and risked it on us in hope.