I know you can’t hear me sigh when I type these words, so you’ll just have to imagine it.
I am not Brandon Vogt.
A couple of months back, I made the fortunate mistake of following Brandon Vogt on Facebook. For those who don’t know who Brandon is, he’s what I’d call a celebrity. Not a real celebrity, mind you, of the People magazine variety, but an internet celebrity of Catholicism. The internet is the realm of quasi-celebrities – people who don’t really qualify for celebrity status in the culture at large, but who are doing awesome work in a niche. Brandon is one of my heroes of the new evangelization. He’s a dad, husband, author, and speaker with a quick wit and a heart for service.
So, what’s the problem? I’m not him!
Of course, it is in jest that I say it’s a problem that I am not Brandon. As much as I love the work he’s doing, I use him to make a point that it’s easy for us to idolize the people we follow and idealize the work that they’re doing. Have you ever noticed that the gifts of others often look so much brighter than our own? Like kids on Christmas morning, we can’t help but look around at what our brothers and sisters got, just to see how it all stacks up.
It’s easy for me, in one of my less stellar moments, to look at all that Brandon does and feel like I’m just not doing enough. In these moments, I have to take a step back and remind myself that God already has a Brandon Vogt doing that work. He needs me to be Chris Williston. My job, then, is to tirelessly pursue just what being Chris Williston means, from God’s perspective.
Over the last couple of months, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the individual personalities of my kids. As a Dad, I want to recognize their strengths and help them direct their attention towards activities that give them self-confidence and a feeling of accomplishment. This, of course, forces me to fight the urge of feeling like I’m failing my son by not putting him back in tee ball, an activity for which he expressed passive apathy, at best.
In this endeavor of compassionate parenting, I find myself doing a lot of observing and listening, trying to see what motivates each of the kids. What do they talk about when it’s just me and them? How do they act when they’re not in competition with each other? What are they saying when a tinge of excitement creeps into their voice?
In the same kind of way, figuring out what it means to be a God-inspired Chris Williston requires the same sensitivity to myself as I am extending towards my kids. It means opening my heart to hear the Holy Spirit. It requires that I stop, listen to my heart and ask: What work am I doing when I feel most fully alive? What projects and commitments are making a better servant of Christ? And, most importantly, what will help me fulfill the primary commitment of my vocation, sharing the love of Christ with my wife and kids, urging them towards heaven?
It’s ok to have heroes, or people we just think are really amazing. But, we can’t focus so much on what others are doing to the point in which we forget that God has called us all to a unique brand of amazing. The ultimate goal is Christ-likeness, not Brandon-likeness, or [insert the name of your hero here]-likeness. To do that, we have to figure out the gifts that God gave each of us to pursue that image.
Chris, you may not be be Brandon, but you’re Chris Williston. And as Chris Williston, you’re inspiration to more people than you know! Keep up your Christ-likeness.
Thanks Rita. You too, my sister in Christ!
What a beautiful, profound post. The irony is that I just spent an hour at lunch with a friend complaining how I was not (insert someone else). One thing I’ve noticed in my own life is the people I most envy typically have several jealousies of their own; the people I want to be like want to be like other people.
I’ve struggled with this type of jealousy for a while. I’ve actually gone to Confession several times for being envious of the following: Fr. Barron’s clarity, Cardinal Dolan’s charm, Peter Kreeft’s wit, Mark Shea’s writing, Pope Benedict’s brilliance, Jen Fulwiler’s insights, etc. I could go on and on with a thousand names.
After much reflection, though, a couple of things have helped:
1) Recognizing that you’re seeing only the best in others. Online, you see my writing, comments, and videos, but what you didn’t see was my utter frustration last night when my screaming, flailing kids refused to take a bath. You didn’t see me tweeting a picture of my son instead of just playing with him. The same is true with all our heroes. You only see them at their best, which makes their ideal seem much more alluring. Yet it’s only a fantasy; it doesn’t exist.
2) Value the right things. Sure, I’d love to be more insightful, articulate, witty, or creative. However I’ve learned that what I want most is to be a good dad; a good husband; a good Catholic. That means “celebrity” and fame are not worthy of envy. It also means there’s a certain admiration, namely “holy jealousy” of the saints, that is actually helpful. It’s OK to admire and emulate the good, true, and beautiful, so I try to set my sight on those. For example, I have a friend who smiles incessantly–he’s the most joyous person I’ve ever met, and it’s magnetic. His joy has literally drawn several people to the Church. Now when I tell other friends that I wish I could be as joyful as him, they don’t discourage that emulation–they provoke it! I think it’s OK to admire and emulate virtue, but things like fame, talent, and notoriety are fleeting and worthless.
PS. I’m not complaining, but you linked me to the Creative Minority Report blog. I’m routinely jealous of Patrick and Matthew so it’s probably appropriate.
Ha! Sorry Brandon. Not sure how Patrick and Matthew’s link snuck in there. I suspect some kind of conspiracy. It’s fixed now!
Whoops! Fixed.
Brandon, thanks for checking out the post and for the words of encouragement. Your insight is spot on and much appreciated. Keep up the good work!
Embarrassingly enough, my husband reminds me of those very things on a somewhat regular basis. Gotta be happy that I’m me! How sad God must be when I neglect to be thankful for being me. Sometimes, I start my prayers by saying, “Lord, thank you for making me who I am…”
What a fantastic post. There’s this great quote on Pinterest (yes, I get about half my wisdom from Pinterest) that says:
“The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.”
The more I learn, the more I found this to be profoundly true. I’ve had the honor to get to know some of my own heroes, and every time I find that they have their own struggles and insecurities, just like I do.
Thanks for a great post. And thanks for your kind words, Brandon!
For CathMedia types, I think one of the biggest temptations is Project Envy. Someone else is always doing more projects, and others’ projects are always more popular and exciting than yours.
What we never see, though, is the stress level or the heath and financial situation of these apparent CathMedia ninjas. Everyone has different life circumstances, personalities, and talents, so it’s really unfair to compare ourselves, favorably or negatively to others.
Throwing in two-cents from the peanut gallery of the single audience: it’s easy for us singles to feel a lot like this, too, particularly when it comes to married-people-envy. That it takes being married to bear all this great fruit. We don’t always reflect and realize what good work we can be doing now, as singles, instead moping around, waiting for our lives to start.
I think I just got my blog post topic for next week! 🙂
Bingo! Gazing at the saints will diffuse that illusion in an instant. Some 90+% of them were single!
You’re not Jerry Jones, either!!!!!