OK, it’s one thing to believe that how you worship makes the most sense for you–it is quite another to decide that you should make others behave in the same way. But that is the story of Blessed Colette (so known because, at the time the Butler was writing in the 1700s, she had been beatified but not canonized).

Colette felt that no bodily humiliation, no withdrawal from human intercourse, no degradation went too far, was too much, or was uncalled for. She allowed–in fact she prayed for–her own native beauty to fall away (as indeed it did!). She went about barefoot and wearing rags sewn together. She joined a severe order of nuns, but they weren’t severe enough for her, and soon left them.

Then Colette came up with the plan that others should do the same as she! So Colette got herself a papal order naming her “superioress-general of the whole order of St. Claire, with full power to establish within it whatever regulations she thought conducive to God’s honour and the salvation of others.” Not surprisingly, as Colette began trying to exercise this authority, and to make all of the convents and dioceses under her power return to “primitive rule” (read Stone Age), she met with resistance. In fact, she was “treated as a fanatic.” Like many others in her situation, Colette regarded the opposition to her reforms as proof that the reforms were clearly needed and God-ordained. So she just decided to open new convents with people who would follow her directives (cult-leader style, perhaps?).

It was not enough for Colette to follow the path that spoke to her heart, and it was not enough to seek to persuade others to join her through her example or her words. She sought out and gained authorization to bend others to her will. And she eventually found some others who would agree to go about in rags, barefoot and cold, disfiguring themselves and … all for what?

Jesus celebrated the lilies of the field for their beauty! How is God glorified by self-imposed miseries? What kind of God is pleased with the intentional disfigurement of anyone as an offering?

I was once present at a church camp event where the invited speaker came and passed out nails to all the 7th and 8th graders (and the counselors). Then the speaker instructed everyone to begin pushing the nail into the palm of his or her own hand–hard. And to continue doing so. This was to teach all present that whatever small suffering they were experiencing was “as nothing compared to what Jesus did for each of you.” I reported that preacher the next morning by telephone to the Conference offices and I was told that “that preacher and that camp were always a problem.” Shocked that they knew this happened annually (apparently), I asked them what they were going to do about it. They said they’d “talk to him.”

Like Colette, that preacher was granted the power and authority by church officials to impose physical miseries on those under his control, “in the name of Christ.” I have long wondered what prevented me (good manners? learned behavior to “follow the leader”? conflict avoidance?) from just interrupting that ungodly mess and challenging–yes, in front of these kids–that enterprise. Setting aside the fact that I would have been regarded as an agent of the Devil, no doubt, at least some of those kids would have heard, out loud, that not everyone thinks that God is glorified by inflicting pain on oneself, or that we grow closer to God by pushing nails into our skin, disfiguring our look, walking barefoot on wretched terrain, wearing hair shirts, or confining our own true beauty.