Yesterday, I joked with friends that I was skipping Festivus this year. My list of grievances was just too long. Then, I was reminded of John Cantius in my reading.
Have you ever heard of St. John of Kanty (Cantius in Latin). His feast day was yesterday, but he actually died on December 24, 1473. A 15th-century Polish theologian, professor, and said to be an incredibly generous priest known for his austerity and devotion to the poor, he became the patron saint of Poland, Lithuania, teachers, students, and academic institutions. It struck me that his feast day being placed on what as a lark became known in modern times as Festivus (from Seinfeld, the television show) could seem ironic. His Christian witness is like an antidote to the human tendency for resentment, rumination, and griping.
If you are familiar with the television show, you probably remember that Festivus is a day for the “Airing of Grievances.” A character, Frank Costanza, humorously informs his family and friends, “I got a lot of problems with you people, and now you’re gonna hear about it!” Theoretically according to Festivusweb.com, this practice “can serve as a cathartic method to cleanse people of the evils of dissatisfaction.” Although that might seem to serve the self, I doubt lasting benefits for the community.
In his life, John of Kanty knew disappointment and likely had valid grievances. All humans in a fallen world do to some extent. For example, it is recorded that he was removed from his teaching post at the University of Kraków due to jealousy from rivals. Facing false accusations, he was reassigned as a parish priest in Olkusz until eventually restored to his teaching position.
For someone called by God to scholarship, this must have been disconcerting if not crushing. Our vocations and dreams for the future are part of who we are after all. Such loss can result in a deep and lasting wound. Despite the disappointment of it all (or maybe through this experience by grace through faith), John sought to dedicate his life to humility and peace with others. (Could this be an example of post-traumatic growth?) His motto became, “Beware disturbing: it’s not sweetly pleasing; Beware speaking ill: for taking back words is burdensome.” He is also known for teaching, “Fight all error, but do it with good humor, patience, kindness, and love. Harshness will damage your own soul and spoil the best cause.”
Let us not assume that this means John was ignorant of sin and evil or ignored it. I’m sure he was disappointed and angry at times. (I imagine he was angry less often as he matured in faith, but it likely happened.) He probably fell short of his goal here and there because that’s what imperfect humans do. His teachings also do not mean that we should avoid standing up to or naming injustice and sin – sometimes more forcefully than at other times as needed. (John the Baptist shouting, “You brood of vipers!,” comes to mind.) Though, I think it says much that John of Kanty didn’t seem to get stuck in such feelings. If he had, his life would have likely become deformed rather than transformed by Christ’s example and love. When looking at the entirety of John’s life, people did not remember shortcomings. They ultimately remembered God’s grace and peace at work through him.
This has concrete applications for many of us this time of year. As Christmas looms, not everyone is excited to be with family. Being in relationships always proves hard; sometimes incredibly hard. This morning, I was reminded by a short mindfulness meditation on the Calm app (Daily Calm with Tamara Levit, December 24, 2025) that despite our desire to share an harmonious time, old wounds or current struggles can make that complicated. The meditation reminded me that before seeing family, we can mediate (and if Christian, pray) to calm ourselves and open our hearts wider toward others. If speaking on difficult topics, we can strive to slow down and mindfully choose each word. And if triggered, we can pause, breathe and reflect before committing to any response. This is wise, and I think it ultimately reflects many biblical teachings.
Sure, even Jesus was angry as he flipped tables in the Temple, but he was without sin. As fallen creatures, we aren’t so enabled naturally. Our anger can easily mutate into harm. The discussion at the Council of Jerusalem recorded in Acts 15 was likely tense if not loud at times. Also in Acts 15, Paul and Barnabas argued and had to go their separate ways. Hey, our beloved (real) St. Nicholas is said to have struck the heretic, Arius, in the nose at the Council of Nicaea. And my theological friend, old Martin Luther, was known to be quite cranky in the 16th century sometimes speaking in grave error. In life, disagreements, disappointments, betrayal, even crimes against us happen, and we can fall short as a result. Hey, again, we are only human.
Jesus, who as part of our Triune God always existed, was born in the flesh as one person with two distinct natures—perfectly God and perfectly human. (In theology, we call thus the hypostatic union.) We are “creatures” created by God, and our created being uses emotions to process and interact with the world and one another. So, the Bible doesn’t tell us, “don’t get angry.” It reminds us not to sin in our anger. For that, we need God’s help including Christ’s own example and teachings.
So, we benefit from community. We might need trusted friends, mentors, or counselors to dialogue with and unpack our anger so that we can seek a way forward. Or perhaps, as I’ve mentioned before, we can turn our cheeks and walk away. If doing so, we should seek to not emotionally stuff and ignore our feelings nor ruminate or gossip. There’s a middle ground available, allowing us to be human and feel feelings without getting stuck or sinning in response. We should also understand that we are not meant to emotionally cut off (not caring about others or never praying for them) but seek to establish a new boundary for personal or communal protection hoping for restoration or reconciliation all the while. As Jesus taught, we are to pray for our enemies not forget they exist. And sometimes, all we can do is seek to let go of the situation leaving it in God’s hands emotionally so it doesn’t disturb or infect our prayer, vision, and actions. Praying for enemies might not help others, but it can help us move forward in love.
Not too long ago, I posted on social media a great article from The Christian Century, “Praying the imprecatory psalms with Bonhoeffer.” If you look it up, you will read that imprecatory psalms are biblical songs of lament that call for God to curse, judge, or destroy His enemies, with examples in Psalms like 35, 59, 69, and 109. As I wrote then, these Psalms reflect a very human sentiment, but they ultimately trust in God to provide justice. God’s our ultimate Defender and Provider to the Psalmist. Taken at face value out of context from other scriptures, they might seem like any old curse. Yet, Bonhoeffer provides a wonderful methodology to look deeper and move us toward compassion and love for “the enemy.”
We are told that Jesus fulfilled all the law and the prophets. When we lack our own words, the Psalms can help us find voice, but it is Jesus who helps us take heart by reshaping them; making them wider and bolder; gifting us with a sacred peace. Rethinking these Psalms through the lens of trusting in God’s ultimate justice and victory, turning our anger over to Jesus and praying as he prayed for our enemies, does make a difference. At the very least it changes us, and that gives us hope that maybe, if we persevere in trust and love, we can do something to make at least our bit of the world a bit better. I think St. John’s experience and wisdom shares the same holy roots.
Like many, I was let down by some people in 2025, but doesn’t that happen every year? People do that, sometimes in profoundly hurtful ways while doing what was right in their own eyes. Not unlike the situation in Judges 21:25, people can lose their way. And if self-reflective and honest, I must admit that I have let others and myself down at times too. That’s just being human, too. Yet turning to God’s word for guidance, using resources and tools available to us, humbly surrendering to God’s will praying even for our enemies, trusting in and listening for the Spirit to guide us, we can avoid being stuck and become more than we are on our own. Indeed, we become freed from the weight of sin whether someone else’s or our own.
Like John of Kanty, people might look past our missteps and see the Prince of Peace working in and through our lives one day and relationship at a time. Our lives might even inspire others as we share the Good News through deed which might include our own repentance l. When this happens, know this reflects Christ’s Kingdom rushing into the world through the imperfect vessels that we are. And in that, we and the world will be ultimately well blessed.
And when we fail? If we hurt others or fail to forgive when hurt by others, or even when we can’t seem to be able let go of the pain of the past, recognize that healing can take time. We learn as we go, and miracles can take shape over a lifetime. Like the lepers healed by Jesus in Luke 17, we might heal as we walk on. Holy wisdom and growth can come at any age. So, never stop trying to do better or give up hope. God’s healing love will be at work in us when we confess, repent, and try again. It’s ok to point out a wrong, but instead of just airing grievances, God empowers us to do something about them. We can heal, and if others are willing and able, reconciliation might come at last.
© 2025 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author. Scripture passages are from the NRSVue translation unless otherwise indicated.
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