Musings of an Old Curmudgeon
The musings and meandering thoughts of a crotchety old man as he observes life in the world and in a small, rural town in South East Nebraska. I hope to help people get to Heaven by sharing prayers, meditations, the lives of the Saints, and news of Church happenings. My Pledge: Nulla dies sine linea ~ Not a day without a line.
18 June 2026
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When Did Sacrifice Become Such an Unpopular Idea?
From Aleteia
By Cerith Gardiner
A few days ago, I found myself standing on a busy Paris metro trying very hard not to become annoyed, which, for anyone who regularly uses the Paris metro, is already something of a spiritual achievement.
A heavily pregnant woman had boarded the carriage and was standing in the aisle, anxiously swaying as the train lurched from side to side. Around her sat a collection of apparently healthy adults who seemed suddenly fascinated by their phones, their shoes, the route map, and just about anything else that would prevent them from making eye contact.
Now, perhaps there were invisible injuries involved. Perhaps every passenger was suffering from a bad back, a twisted knee, or a heroic sports injury. Yet as the journey continued, I found myself wondering whether the issue was not simply a lack of manners but a changing attitude towards sacrifice itself.
Not the grand, dramatic sort that fills history books. The smaller variety. The kind that asks us to be slightly less comfortable so somebody else can be a little more comfortable. The sort that costs us very little but still requires us to look up from our own concerns for a moment.
The thought returned a few days later while I was reading a discussion on social media. Several mothers were debating whether they would be willing to give up certain luxuries so their children could participate in courses, activities, or opportunities that the family might not otherwise be able to afford.
Sacrifice and its image problem
What struck me was not the specific choices being discussed, but how many people spoke about sacrifice as though it were automatically a bad thing, rather like root canal treatment or an unexpected visit from the tax office. And that made me wonder whether sacrifice has developed something of an image problem.
The word itself seems to have fallen spectacularly out of fashion. Mention sacrifice and many people immediately picture hair shirts, joyless self-denial, and individuals grimly refusing to enjoy themselves on principle. It sounds faintly medieval, slightly suspicious, and about as appealing as voluntarily spending a weekend assembling flat-pack furniture.
Modern culture, by contrast, is much more comfortable talking about self-care. We are encouraged to protect our time, preserve our energy, prioritize our needs, and establish healthy boundaries. Much of that is sensible. Nobody should spend their life allowing others to walk all over them, and there is certainly no virtue in exhaustion for exhaustion's sake.
Yet somewhere along the way, it feels as though we have started viewing sacrifice and happiness as natural enemies. Which is rather strange when you think about it, because most of the things we value most in life require sacrifice of one kind or another.
Parents sacrifice sleep with a generosity that would be considered deeply concerning in any other context. Friends sacrifice time they could easily spend elsewhere. Good teachers sacrifice evenings. Loving spouses sacrifice independence. Anyone who has trained for a marathon, learned an instrument, cared for an elderly parent, built a business, or raised a child knows that worthwhile things rarely arrive without asking something from us in return.
The funny thing is that we rarely resent those sacrifices afterwards. In fact, many of our happiest memories are tied to them. Parents do not spend decades reminiscing about a particularly memorable facial they enjoyed in 2024. They talk about watching their children flourish. Grandparents do not gather their families together to recount the story of a wonderful afternoon spent protecting their personal boundaries. They talk about the people they loved, helped, encouraged, and occasionally inconvenienced themselves for.
When sacrifice becomes an active choice
Perhaps that is because sacrifice is not simply about giving something up. More often, it is about choosing something else instead.
The parent chooses a child's opportunity over a personal luxury. A friend chooses somebody else's need over a quiet evening. The passenger who offers a seat chooses another person's comfort over their own convenience. And when you look it at that way, sacrifice begins to look less like a punishment and more like a declaration of value. It reveals what matters to us.
Watching De Gaulle: Tilting Iron recently brought this home in a very different way. The sacrifices made during the Second World War are almost impossible for most of us to imagine. Men and women gave up careers, homes, freedom, comfort, and often their lives because they believed certain things were worth more than their own immediate happiness. What struck me was not simply their courage, but their certainty. They seemed remarkably clear about what mattered.
Today, we often begin from the opposite direction. Before agreeing to anything, we instinctively ask what it will cost us. Previous generations were perhaps more inclined to ask what something was worth.
Of course, most of us are not being asked to save France, liberate Europe, or lead a resistance movement before breakfast. The sacrifices that present themselves in daily life are generally much less dramatic. They usually involve patience, generosity, time, money, comfort, or convenience. Yet the principle remains surprisingly similar.
Christianity has always understood this. At the heart of the faith stands Christ's sacrifice on the Cross, yet Christians do not reflect upon it because suffering is somehow admirable in itself. There is nothing particularly holy about pain. What makes the Crucifixion extraordinary is the love behind it.
In fact, the Christian story suggests something rather unfashionable: that love and sacrifice are not opposites. Very often, they are inseparable. The people we love most are usually the people for whom we are willing to sacrifice the most, whether that means losing sleep over a newborn baby, caring for an aging parent, supporting a struggling friend, or putting somebody else's needs ahead of our own plans.
Perhaps that is why sacrifice feels so much richer than the caricature we often give it. It is not about becoming miserable. It is not about collecting hardships like merit badges. It is about deciding that something — or someone — matters enough for us to give a little of ourselves.
Which brings me back to the pregnant woman on the metro.
Offering her a seat would not have changed the world. It would not have cured disease, ended a war, or earned anyone a place in the history books. Yet for a few stops at least, it would have communicated something increasingly rare and deeply reassuring: that another person's wellbeing mattered more than our own convenience.
And perhaps that is where sacrifice usually begins. Not in dramatic acts of heroism, but in the quiet, everyday moments when we choose "you first" instead of "me first."
New Details Leaked About Leo's Big Meeting With The Cardinals
It's all synodality all the time. Plus: the bishop of Detroit publicly apostatises and sells himself out to enemies of the Cross.
