Reframing the discussion

This Sunday's Gospel reading:

"Good teacher, what must I do to enter the kingdom of heaven?"

His society had told the rich young man, his whole life, that he'd already found favor with God. His riches were the evidence of God's favor. Yet, he recognizes in Jesus an authority that can answer the uncertainty that remains within him. He doesn't recognize his fundamental assumption that assurance is found in meeting some minimum set of requirements; he has learned from scribes and Pharisees that it must surely be so, and that the trick is to figure out what those requirements are and then make sure he fulfills them.

Jesus changes the framework of the discussion. It isn't a matter of what we must do to enter the kingdom of heaven. It is a matter of how we will respond to the kingdom of heaven being given to us, through grace and mercy. As long as we view heaven as our reward for the kind of person we are, we will never respond wholeheartedly to the gift that is freely given. As soon as we truly see the sin in our lives as God sees it, then we know the depth of grace. As we live therein, our longing becomes to share it, without limit.

Grown children

As they were growing up, I often marvelled at how our children taught us so much about the love of God.

Now that they are grown, I find the lessons I learn through my relationships with them all the more pertinent. I wish it were usually because of the wisdom that comes forth from their lives, as it sometimes is.

More often it is from watching helplessly as they make decisions over which we have no control, decisions which we know are not truly in their own best interest. It is then that I'm most aware of how much God loves us. Our all powerful God has relinquished control over us so that we might choose to live as we think best, accepting or rejecting diving Love and guidance according to our own will. Yet God's love for us never wavers, regardless of the decisions we make. God waits for us to realize our true need, our actual best interest, and real love. When we finally reach out in the correct direction, though our reach is always short of being able to bridge the gap between humanity and Divinity, God reaches us.

A lesson in priorities

When taking on a sporting activity, I sometimes find it a challenge to keep my original goals in mind. At 46, it isn’t as if I’m ever going to become a competitive runner or cyclist, and that’s okay. But I still tend to push my performance rather than focusing on the camaraderie and fellowship that I set out for in each activity.

In running, the temptation isn’t as obvious a problem. All the team runners take the races at our own pace, and it’s just a matter of keeping my training in line with my minimum goal of keeping the pain in my legs to a minimum after a race. A weekly run should be all I need to accomplish that, and mostly short ones with an occasional longer on tossed in should get that mission accomplished. When a run, such as the one last night, results in less than a PR, I need to keep my disappointment in check and remember that I’m really just there to support the team.

But cycling is a little more problematic, especially since drafting makes it more of a group activity and we have such a variety of skill levels. Among our regular weekly riders, I’m probably the first or second slowest, but other group members who ride with us from time to time are slower, and I probable have the worst bike (the Hammer doesn’t count anymore; we miss you Larry!).

Most days, it’s just a matter of riding as well as we can, and that’s okay, but occasionally we have a ride planned that’s more of a group activity than a training ride. On those days, I’ve got to get myself out of "push it" mode, especially when I have more decision-making input. Some days, the fellowship is more important than the training.

It's another example of how a good thing can become a bit of a false god, if we're not careful.

The Eucharist

At Holy Trinity in Glen Burnie this weekend, Fr. Headley's insights stimulated my thoughts beyond the ideas that he actually expressed. The Lord will use a good homily to that effect on a prayerful and reflective person when they're open to the Spirit, I suppose. I'll paraphrase and expand on his thoughts a bit, then move on to my own. The gospel reading was from John 6.

After beginning with a few observations about the role of Wisdom in revealing the Truth, Fr. Headley moved on to an observation that you'd have to be spiritually deaf to miss from the gospel reading, pointing out how Jesus invoked the manna as the forerunner of the Eucharist/himself, and himself as the manna. Obviously many in his audience had a problem with this analogy; having known him in the context of his earthly life, and unable to accept what he was telling them about his divine nature, they couldn't grasp that he was more than an inspiring teacher but in fact the very nourishment they needed for eternal life. Too, he was invoking one of their most treasured images and applying it to himself, in a way that seemed preposterous on the surface. Throw in the likelihood that many of them may not have believed in the possibility of life beyond death, and it is no wonder they couldn't accept what he was saying.

Fr. Headley went on to describe our experiences of earthly banquets of providential love, if you will, especially those in which we encounter a tangible sense of loving acceptance in the context of food, but even "love banquets" beyond these food-based celebrations. Each of these, he suggested, are for us metaphors and precursors to the Eucharistic banquet which Jesus offers us and in which we find the fulfillment of their promise.

It seems to me that this idea takes on even more depth in the context of the timeless nature of God, and how that intertwines with the human, timebound experience of salvation history. It isn't just that Christ fulfilled the Jewish Passover. Rather, God, simultaneously seeing how we (would) treat his Son when he walks on this earth, and how we (would) respond to the gospel millenia after his resurrection, provides a deliverance from slavery for the people from whom the Son will receive his human flesh, which will serve to allow us to recognize him as he later reinvokes those images for us. This has been the purpose of every revelation of God throughout salvation history. Further, it is the purpose and role of every revelation of love which we experience in our lives. It isn't merely that Christ and the Eucharist fulfill the deepest meaning of these other events, but rather that the ultimate purpose of each event is to allow us to recognize and accept Jesus as the very nourishment without which we cannot live.

Even the doubting we may experience, however deep and complete it may be, serves this purpose.

My "Jewish" dream

Last month I had a dream. A young Jewish man who was beyond the usual age for a particular music study scholarship was presenting an opera he'd composed, with musical and dramatical themes deeply rooted in his experiences of being Jewish. The primary instrument was the pipe organ (?? - dreams!). The audience loved it, and rewarded the composer with a lengthy and raucous ovation. While the applause was still ringing, a member of the school of study to which the young man aspired approached him to offer his congratulations. The young man couldn't help but ask if it might serve as a successful audition for his admission. The teacher responded in the negative, observing that the environment actually would serve to ruin the young man's pure insight. He told the young man that he was sure that he could succeed in their program, but that he felt it would destroy the best part of him. "You may have a positive effect on New York," he said, "but New York will have a far more negative effect on you."

I'm paraphrasing, because I've let too much time pass since the dream.

When I woke up, I thought how utterly ridiculous it was for a Jewish man to have misgivings concerning New York. There are thriving Jewish communities in New York.

I came to realize that my dream might be a metaphor for spiritual life.

There are many areas in which a spiritual person can have a positive effect. But in immersing himself in them, he may well lose more than he contributes.

I'm not a spiritual separatist. However, there are many places in which I should not dwell.

RAIN

Tomorrow should be a challenging day: 160 hot, humid miles across Indiana on a bicycle. We drive to Terre Haute tonight, get up early on Saturday and to Richmond by late afternoon; I 'm hoping we're done by around 5.

It's amazing what we'll put ourselves through for the sake of group membership and a sense of accomplishment!

Go Team Dog!

Grace

Everybody in the world wants a second chance . . .

. . . until it’s someone else who desperately needs a second chance. Then, too often, it’s, “They don’t deserve another chance, after what they did.”

Y’know what? None of us do.

"What you have received freely, freely give."

I contend that the largest obstacle to the manifestation of this command by Christians in the world today is that too many of us fall into at least one of two categories:

• we have not fully received the gift of forgiveness which we have been offered
• we don’t truly believe ourselves undeserving of the grace we have received

That is, we insist on evaluating ourselves in terms of others, as respectively worse or better. We would never think to judge others, of course, because we’ve been so clearly warned against it. Yet in evaluating ourselves in such terms we unconsciously judge, in spite of the warnings.

Christianity is about a different thing entirely. By the action of the Holy Spirit:

• I see that I desperately need what Christ has done for me, could never deserve it and, in fact, have no hope without it (end of evaluation of self/others)
• I embrace the gift of Christ, both of his sacrifice on my behalf in atonement for my sins and of his presence in my life (beginning of my transformation in Christ)
• I recognize that every neighbor desperately needs what Christ has done and the new life I am experiencing in him, realizing that no one else deserves it any less than I do (beginning of personal evangelization mission, sharing mercy and love with others)

But without the first step, often referred to as the first spiritual truth, no matter how much we may think we've taken the second one, we can never overcome our tendency to judge others, whether we're conscious of it or not.