There is a famous tale of a Chinese farmer whose horse ran away. That evening neighbors gathered at his place to commiserate. “That was bad luck,” they said. He replied, “Maybe it is—maybe it isn’t.” The next day, the horse returned, bringing with it seven wild horses into the corral. The neighbors reassembled there and proclaimed, “What great fortune!” He quipped, “Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t.” The following day his son tried to break one of the horses but was thrown from it and broke his leg. The neighbors showed up again to offer condolences saying, “That’s so unfortunate.” The farmer murmured softly, “Maybe.” The next day war broke out and conscription officers came to recruit every able-bodied young man into military battle, but his son was rejected because of his broken leg.
We often conclude that a situation is one way when it might actually be another. Like in generations past, today’s world offers us incalculable uncertainties. Artificial intelligence within our current technological revolution can be scary. Maybe it’s good and maybe it’s not; maybe it brings forth incredible opportunities for the universe or maybe it will devastate our business communities, human interactions, personal productivity, and even parts of our soul. As our churches are emptier now than in previous generations, twenty-first century Catholics refuse to blindly obey as our ancestors did. Maybe that’s a bad thing, or maybe it’s good. It could be that we can learn much from young adults who want their church experience to be more relevant and meaningful to them than a Sunday ritual or litany of doctrines. As our nation deals with numerous harsh political realities, from tariffs to immigration to bombing nuclear sites of nefarious actors and challenging unjust aggression, we grapple with our own sense of what’s good and what’s bad. Our first instinct and impression could be wrong or at least limited in perception—maybe it’s not what we think.
Pope Leo wants our world to face the technological revolution of our times with wisdom that is rooted in Catholic Social Teachings, which start and end with the dignity of every human person. Most young people aren’t concerned with labels of separation that caused divisions in former generations (gay, straight, trans, black, white, mixed race, documented citizen, undocumented foreigner, Muslim, Socialist, Democrat, Republican, progressive, traditionalist, atheist, Catholic, unchurched…). But lots of divisions remain. Pope Leo, like his predecessor, Francis, wants us to rise above them and, through synodal practices, move forward together as one, led by the Holy Spirit. In some ways, our Judeo-Christian faith has evolved from the Ten Commandments to the eight Beatitudes to the seven Catholic Social Teachings because they guide us in our conduct and personal relationships, in our respect for one another and for the earth that has been entrusted to our care, in our labors and our contributions to society, how we manage our lives, our homes, and our communities. They serve as a spiritual compass to help us navigate our modern world with good intent and practices.
Maybe things look bad at times and maybe things aren’t what they seem to be. Maybe the moral slippage of recent decades has taken a toll on our collective energy and maybe the transparency that has revealed familial and institutional sins was necessary for our growth; but maybe not; and maybe something greater is still unfolding. As citizens of the earth, of our nation, and of our church, let’s not jump to hasty conclusions but patiently open ourselves to God’s accompaniment and guidance. Let us pray that our mind will think not on its own—not even with the mind of politicians or ecclesiastics—but with the mind of Christ who showed us how to be one with God and how to orient ourselves toward the common good of earth in hope for the glory of heaven that beckons us to its eternal wonders.
