Hairnets and Humility

Last week, I was blessed to join close to 60,000 Catholics at the first National Eucharistic Congress in our country in more than 80 years. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but like for so many other attendees, the experience was more than I could’ve imagined. However, I was also anxiety-ridden through most of it as I prepared to speak at one of the impact sessions for priests scheduled toward the end of the five-day experience. I was so nervous, in fact, that the day before the talk, I could barely concentrate as my family did a service project where we made macaroni and cheese packets for distribution in local food banks. I kept messing up the bags and then I forgot to take off my bright yellow hairnet as I left the service area - mortifying my teenage daughters.

My nerves were getting the best of me and I just wanted to get through the talk and be done with it. I found myself comforted that the session was for priests only. With God’s grace, the talk went fine, and I felt very privileged to spend that time with the clergy gathered. However, after the relief, I began to feel a twinge of disappointment that the moment wasn’t shared with a larger audience, especially as family and friends asked for a recording or if I had it written down. As I scrolled through highlight reels of big-name speakers and moments, my pride wanted to be included.

Arriving home, a text came across from a seminarian friend of mine saying “You’re famous!” I thought, “Finally, here comes the praise, the hype, the glory." Word of my talk has reached him! The next message was a picture posted on a Catholic new site covering the congress of my children and me, in the hairnets, making macaroni and cheese. I’m not sure what was worse: the unflattering angle, the fact that we weren’t identified, or the fact that I wanted to be identified.

Knowing full well the depths of my vanity, my wife cried because she was laughing so hard, but she also offered her usual sage counsel. “Your talk was a moment that God wanted just for you and the priests in the room. This picture is a moment He wanted for the world!” As we continued to chuckle, I couldn’t help but think of the number of times in life and leadership that I pray for God to work through me and then turnaround and want to be recognized for what I’ve done. In this 24-hour filtered post-culture, how well do I fight the temptation to put a spotlight on only the highlights of my service, and even more so, claim them as my own when I know they come from the Lord?

That night, I gave thanks in my prayers for the incredible ways the Lord moved my heart over the course of the congress. Imagine if we put down our phones, put on our hairnets, and 60,000 Catholics - or better yet, 77,000,000 Catholics - in this country got to work without worrying about getting any credit. To quote the congress, “Jesus is on the move.” Are we ready?