Letting go for dear life

It's Friday again. I am on a kind of retreat. I'm doing anything formal or well-structured. I have enough of that every day. Just a few days away by myself. Even though I don't do it often, I have to be careful when doing something like this. I become very conscious of what a privilege it is to have the time and resources to do such a thing. In other words, it's hard not to feel guilty. I think of my upbringing and everyone saying at the idea of doing something like this- "What!?" Anyway, I owe a debt of gratitude to my wife not only for allowing me time away but positively encouraging me to take this time. I am very blessed.

Apart from just need to step out of the busy-ness of my everyday life, there was something I had to discern. It's a strange thing because my poin of discernment was something I agreed to do earlier this year. It's a big commitment on top of my marriage and family, my full-time job, and my parish ministry. Frankly, it's a demaning and daunting task. Since accepting it and even making a lot of progress working at it, I had yet to fully commit.

Last night, as I prayed, pondered, poured my worries and concerns, my whines and my gripes, I was thrown back 20+ years. I realized that what I wanted at that time. After a tumultuous decade (to make a long story short: my young adulthood was chaotic- I am still recovering), I wanted a prosperous, comfortable, and (yes) boring life. I began to consider how eventful my life has been and remains from that point forward. It's a blessing.

I am glad God paid no attention to those mundane (i.e., worldly) desires. Amid the chaos to which I parenthetically alluded, Jesus found me. I sometimes forget what a difference my encounter with him made and continues to make in my life. I take him for granted. When you heed Jesus's call to follow him, you never know where he'll lead you. As Michael Card sang so beautifully: "There Is a Joy in the Journey."

I can't ever lose track of that joy. I don't lack it. It's just that sometimes (often in these crazy times) ignore it. This brings me back to being very blessed. What I have been called and agreed to do (it is a call- from my bishop, no less).

Yesterday, evening I was able to get over that hump. My discernment was confirmed this morning as I meditated on and prayed with this Sunday's Gospel (Matthew 21:28-32). It's Jesus's parables about a father who has two sons. Tells both of them to go work his vineyard. The first son initially says no but then "changed his mind" and went to work. His other son said he would but then did not work. Jesus then asks his listeners- the inspired author has him addressing "the chief priests and elders of the people- which of the two did the will of their father. Without hesitation, they responded, "The first."

Exegetically, this has something to do with Jews. Specifically, the chief priests and elders of the people. In this parable, they are like the second son. But those less faithful Jews: those who worked as tax collectors on behalf of the occupying Romans and, as a result, were reviled among their own people and prostitutes, who are looked down on in virtually every society. Unlike the chief priests and elders, the tax collectors and prostitutes, when they encountered John the Baptist and then Jesus changed their minds and followed the way of righteousness. In short, they repented and entered on the path of righteousness. The path of righteousness is not the way of strident rule-keeping and public displays of piety.

After that irresistible digression, I'll just add that I didn't want to be like the second son. I don't want to say yeas and then bail on the project. Accepting does not mean I have all the answers or that I don't have doubt and uncertainty. I accepted a call from my bishop, who I promised at ordination to obey and respect. When I expressed my preference to him to remain exclusively doing parish ministry, he told me that he'd rather have remained a parish priest but Christ, through the Church, called him to serve as bishop.

These words from the Sermon on the Mount also came to mind: "Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ Anything more is from the evil one" (Matthew 5:37). I want to be a person who keeps his word, especially to someone to whom I have made a sacred vow. Like the second son, it was not a matter of changing my mind but sticking with my commitment. The commitment that should underlie all my commitments is the one I made some 30 years ago: following Jesus. He seems to enjoy leading out of my comfort zone, away from that self-satisfied existence I seem to think I want. In truth, it is unsatisfying. I am made and redeemed for more.

Well enough about me (said the self-absorbed person). How are you? I hope you are well during these trying times, these times when we are reaping the whirlwind as a result of our unwillingness to respect creation, respect each other, our refusal to be good stewards of creation or to be our brothers and sisters keeper.

As the twenty-third anniversary of his sudden death came and went this month, I've been listening to a lot to the music of Rich Mullins. And so, with zero hesitation, our traditio for this final Friday of September in the time of COVID is "Sometimes by Step." Because I want you to meet Rich, too, it is a live version. Hey, if you speak Portuguese, you can follow along too!