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DappledThings.org

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When the Goad Rises

Ellen RM Toner

Every Tuesday and Thursday evening, the priests at my parish celebrate mass in the Extraordinary Form. Which is great, you know, because if I happen to be there on those evenings, I get to feel morally superior and well-educated, because I know when to sit and kneel down and stand up and genuflect and bow and cross myself and beat myself. And I know Latin. And I have a missal. So that adds up to what? 8 gold stars? Let’s keep it to a modest 7, since kneeling and genuflecting are kind of the same thing.

Thirty seconds before communion, the priest holds up the host, and I get excited to say the Domine non sum dignus prayer because I like the way Latin sounds, and I like the fact that I know that prayer, and can rattle it off without even thinking, while the uneducated plebe at the end of the pew is hopelessly lost even when he tries to read along.

And then, disaster strikes.

The guy 6 pews ahead on my right starts thumping his chest with notable abandon, and reciting the prayer with deafening volume, conspicuous speed, and deadly accuracy. And. my. goad. rises. Who the hell does he think he is? What a moron. What a self-righteous dweeb. Get over yourself already, dude.

Enter Brideshead Revisited. (Let’s be honest; when does it not enter?) “When people hate with all that energy, it is something in themselves they are hating.”

Remember when Julia hits Charles in the face? "'I hate it.' Her anger was as  unexpected as every change on  this  evening of swift veering moods. Suddenly  she  cut me  across  the face  with  her switch,  a vicious, stinging little blow as hard as she could strike. 'Now do you see how I hate it?' She hit me again.

Remember when Julia hits Charles in the face? “‘I hate it.’ Her anger was as unexpected as every change on this evening of swift veering moods. Suddenly she cut me across the face with her switch, a vicious, stinging little blow as hard as she could strike. ‘Now do you see how I hate it?’ She hit me again.”

We all just came back from Christmas, right? Family. Oh yes. Our families. There is nothing we dislike so much as seeing our own faults writ large. There is nothing so troubling as seeing our own weaknesses bared, out on display, raw and fractious and ready for a fight. And there is nowhere that the elements for such titanic disaster align so perfectly as at a large family gathering. The thing about families is, they share the bad traits as well as the good ones. Parents love it when their children look like them; it makes them feel proud, like they’ve left a mark on the world, and reminds them that they’re immortal and powerful (I helped create that child!). And guess what else? Even if they fail to realize it, as often they do, parents are particularly harsh with those children who most perpetuate their own faults. We do hate to be reminded of our shortcomings and failures (I helped spawn that thieving hooligan! Or, you know, whatever it is you’ve been spawning lately.).

So, here I am to preach at you. You see, after all, what with my 7 gold stars and everything, that’s what I’m qualified to do. Next time you feel like throttling somebody, chucking your substantial missal across 6 pews to knock the holy-roller off his kneeler, walloping the 6 year old or the 16 year old, badmouthing the boss or belittling your brother, take a breather. Think of the ways you’re like that idiot, and realize what it is you’re actually hating.

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Filed Under: Deep Down Things, Essays, General

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About Ellen RM Toner

After teaching for three years at a classical liberal arts school, Ellen began full-time work as a writer and editor in 2012. She has degrees in Literature and Publishing from the University of Dallas and the University of Denver, respectively. She lives with her husband, writer J.B. Toner, in rural New Hampshire.

Comments

  1. AvatarTara says

    January 10, 2014 at 9:54 am

    I don’t understand this post. I have no problem putting my “literary ignorance” on display by saying I can’t tell whether Ms. Turner is making fun of me for loving the latin mass (if so, I will not be giving Dappled Things anymore money and Ms. Turner -you are mean) or if she is chastizing the haters of latin mass lovers. Either way, it wasn’t clear enough for this casual reader.

  2. AvatarEllen Turner says

    January 10, 2014 at 12:13 pm

    Hi Tara,

    I’m sorry to have confused you, as it seems I certainly have! Lest you be worried, I love the Latin mass; I grew up with it, and have two siblings in religious life with EF/TLM communities. So please, don’t stop donating to Dappled Things on my sorry account! What I was trying to do (and I suppose I need to ramp up my technique) is remind myself, and all of us, that when we are angry with other people, it’s not a bad idea to stop and do a little self-examination to find out why exactly we’re so angry. If that happens with your family around the Christmas table, or in the middle of mass (Novus Ordo or EF), or anywhere else, there’s a good chance that you’re upset with yourself just as much as you are with the person or family member next to you, and that maybe you’re taking your anger out on them when you could be finding a better object (namely, yourself). Does that help? I hope so.

    God bless!
    Ellen

  3. AvatarTara says

    January 10, 2014 at 3:19 pm

    Thank you so much for the clarification. I guess I should take your advice, huh?
    (… as I walk back from the ledge).

Mary, Queen of Angels 2020

Purchase Featuring nonfiction from Joshua Hren, fiction from Jennifer Marie Donahue and Rob Davidson and the winners and honorees of the Bakhita Prize in Visual Arts.

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