Good restaurants often present patrons with a wine list. The better the restaurant, the more extensive the list. Of course, patrons like me scarcely know what to do with such a list. I enjoy a good glass of wine but claim no expertise in choosing the perfect one to complement a meal.
There is another list. This one is not presented to us in a restaurant. It’s the one we carry around with us in our heads. It’s our whine list. It’s the things we dislike — both our vintage complaints and those that have fermented more recently.
Let’s delve further into the comparison between the wine we drink and the whining we inflict on others. As a rule, wine begins with grapes. When certain types of grapes are used to make wine, and the vintner stores and ages the wine properly, the resultant vintage is good. When the grapes are sour or otherwise defective, or when the wine is uncorked too soon, it is likely unfit to drink.
Whining is similar to bad wine. Like the hapless vintner who sets out to make fine wine, we might have a good goal in mind. We see a problem to be solved, or something or someone neglected, or a shortcoming to be corrected. The goal is good, but what if the “grapes” are bad? Our complaints, like bad grapes, can come from bad places in our hearts: peevishness, impatience, discontentment, grudges, a desire to dominate. And like the unskilled vintner, we store our complaints in hearts that bring out the worst “flavors” in every situation.
Our complaints, like bad grapes, can come from bad places in our hearts. And like the unskilled vintner, we store our complaints in hearts that bring out the worst “flavors” in every situation.
What’s more, sometimes we don’t take time to discern whether our complaint has merit. We don’t let our “whine” oxygenate by asking the opinions of others. And instead of constructively addressing a lack or a need, we let it ferment in us and then inflict “sour whine” on those around us.
Now, let’s face it: We live in an imperfect world. We struggle to improve our lot. Many things irritate us. So we whine — and I can whine with the best of them! But chronic whining is destructive to ourselves, our loved ones, and our co-workers. And here’s why.
First, whining betokens a lack of gratitude to God and others. When every other word is a complaint, we’re saying to God that he put us in a pretty miserable spot — and we’re not happy about that at all. We may also be saying to others that they just don’t measure up.
Second, whining tears down the human spirit. When we’re subjected to continual whining, we can easily become discouraged. Nothing is right. Nothing is good enough. Every cloud has a dark lining. Human nature is hopeless. Whining uses up our spiritual oxygen and suffocates our joy and enthusiasm.
Third, whining undermines relationships. Whiners often don’t have anything good to say about other people. They foment discontent. They create suspicion. They prompt those around them to think ill of others. Constant whining — far from warming hearts and creating bonds of friendship and fraternity — creates anger, anxiety and isolation.
Finally, whining is not constructive. It doesn’t lead to solutions but to bad feelings.
So here are two thoughts for us in the midst of this Lenten season.
First, it’s fine to give up wine for Lent — but it’s better to give up whining. Lent is the perfect time to examine ourselves. Do we whine too much?
Second, let’s replace whining with mutual encouragement, bonds of charity, unity and fraternity.
Then, with united and grateful hearts, we can worthily drink the new wine of the kingdom — the blood of Christ shed for our redemption.




