Have you ever had the experience of thinking something and simultaneously being disgusted by your thoughts? I experienced this today during my walk. I have no need to divulge the thoughts that disgusted me. All I need to say is that these thoughts are the product of my own conditioning. Since their genesis is not a mystery- they didn't come out of nowhere- I am responsible for them. These thoughts find their origin in a weakness, a vulnerability of longstanding. Over time, I have plumbed the depth of this vulnerability. Anyway, it's like standing outside yourself, being outside and inside at the same time.
In English we have the adjective diabolical. In a more specifically Christian vein, the Greek word διάβολος, which transliterates diabolos, is the origin of the word devil. In essence, a diabolos isn't merely an accuser. After all, I am often justly accused by my conscience, as in my experience this morning. A diabolos is a slanderer, a backbiter, a calumniator (there's a word for you!).
More to the point I am trying to make, looking at diabolical etymologically, it is a compound Greek word: dia + ballein. Literally, it means “to tear apart.” I think the experience I had today was just that, a tearing apart from myself. I think sin has just this effect: it alienates you from yourself. This why the turn indicated by metanoia (i.e., repentance) is a turn back to yourself. Or, taking my cue from Augustine and Ignatius of Loyola, repentance is not merely a "return to God." True repentance is returning to yourself.
Since it is Friday, which I still observe as a penitential day, as I walked, I meditated on the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Blessed Virgin's Holy Rosary. Praying the Rosary while walking- sometimes while sitting and in a more contemplative way- is a daily practice. It's a practice I recommend, especially today on the Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary.
Christ on the Cross, Flemish Painter, ca. 1675-1725
The part of me that was disgusted, distraught, grieved (if I may beg pardon and employ that overused word) was conscience. It was what my conscience called out that was pulling me apart from myself. The call of conscience is the call of wholeness. Being whole is what it really means to be holy. At least for me, holiness requires healing.
The healing holiness requires for me is a struggle, what Saint Paul described as agon. Agony, of course, is derived from agon. An agon is the kind of struggle that accentuates feeling pressure in a deeply personal way.
I don't have a neat way of wrapping up my experience. My agon continues. With the help of people who love me, simply by loving me, and the grace of God, which is living in the reality that God, who is love, loves me no matter what, I am confident I will be successful in the contest. After all, in and through Christ, my victory is won.
Our need to be gentle with each other is aided by the recognition that we're all engaged in an agon of one sort or another. And so, kindness, compassion, and understanding should be our default, not judgment, condemnation, and derision.
After that experience, which occurred while I was walking, I listened to Phil Keaggy's 1990 album Find Me In These Fields. Because of what just happened, I was particularly moved by the title track from that album. As a result, "Find Me In These Fields" is our Friday traditio.
“Agony” is a frequent visitor in my life. I often protest and lament to my spiritual director of its presence but he reminds me of the opportunities I have been given because of these crosses. I find I must vigorously reject agony’s deceptions and beg for the needed healing grace. I rely on my spiritual director to help me discern what is truly spiritual and what is non-spiritual in all of this.
ReplyDeleteDeacon Bob Yerhot