Oh Providence

There are a great number of people who have difficulty believing in a good God based upon the evils that happen to them or to the world at large.  On the other hand, there are a great number of people who believe in a good God because of the good things that happen to them and how everything works out well for them—adherents of the ol' Prosperity Gospel as it were.

I try not to fall into the latter category.  I try to trust that everything happens for a reason and that everything that God sends me is indeed a gift no matter how difficult to handle.

A beautiful approach to life as a passive recipient, however, can become a mind-crushing vice in taking action.  As usual, I can best find examples from my life to illustrate my meaning: in this case, I have set out to create a work of art in honor of the Epiphany.  For weeks I have trusted that it would all come together even though I was lacking certain necessary elements (i.e. actors).  Now it seems a bit as if everything is falling apart.  What do I do?

I begin to wonder if that will be the cry of my life.  Is that not the cry of all our lives?  What do we do when things don't go as we expect?  What do we do when God does not provide what we think we need? We could give up.  We could decide it wasn't God's will after all.  We could take it merely as disappointment and try to thank Him for that gift.

Or we can go on.

Into the valley of death
Rode the six hundred.

For some reason lines from Tennyson's poem "The Charge of the Light Brigade" often come to mind in these times of struggle and darkness.

Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.

It isn't our right to command, nor to control the destiny of our lives or the lives of others.  We could flee in terror, cowards that we often are.  Or we can hold our ground, we can advance, we can charge forward when it seems like folly, when it seems that all is lost.  That is trust.  That is faith.  And that is one of the hardest things we can ever do.

What will He do with it?

That remains still to be seen, but He will do something glorious with it.  That we must believe.

When can their glory fade?

'Til Death Do Us Part

“Because our expression is imperfect
we need friendship to fill up the imperfections.”
~G.K. Chesterton (Illustrated London News, June 6, 1931)

Friendship remains one of the deepest longings of our hearts.  Shallow permutations thereof seem to arise more and more with the rapid advances of virtual technology, but none of these can satisfy that deep longing.

In this virtual world, I find myself pondering my old-fashioned views of friendship.  Those views I might summarize in one simple expression: 'Til death do us part.  Although that phrase comes directly from the marriage vow, it can reflect a similar truth for platonic friendships.  Those of us with an absolute sense of loyalty believe that once we give our hearts in friendship, it truly is until death.

I think of a homily I heard a while back where the priest spoke about this very idea of friendship, expressing so beautifully my own perspective on it.  In that context, he mentioned the three musketeers and their motto: All for one and one for all.  How beautiful a description of faithful friendship that is, not to mention the delightful imagery of swords drawn in defense of one another....

The priest also spoke of another phrase I had never heard before: Friends to the altar of God.  One might take this in several ways.  For instance, it might describe the division that arises from differing beliefs, as it does seem nearly impossible to be close friends with one whose heart does not adore at the same altar.  That is a sad and painful reality that we may have to face.  Yet even if we cannot be true heart-friends because of differing beliefs, it does not mean that we cannot still accompany one another in friendship through our lives; nor does it mean that we should allow our differences to drive us apart, as our nation becomes more and more divided on this score.

The other way to look at that phrase would be to consider it in light of the purpose of friendship: to lead our friends to the altar of God.  Just as the Greek word for "until" implies nothing about what happens afterward, so too it does not mean that our friendship ceases at the altar of God.

Indeed, there we find true friendship.  For where we will one another's good we become truer friends through the power of grace.

There also we find a God who has stepped down to earth because He longs so much to be our friend.  There we find the One who never ceases to give Himself in love, whose loyalty surpasses even my own ideals, whose desire transcends all that I can imagine.  Each moment He waits for us to come to Him, to speak to Him in deepest confidence, and to open our hearts to a love He can scarcely contain.

"Greater love than this no man hath,
that a man lay down his life for his friends." 
~John 15:13

The Reluctant Catholic

In conversation the other day, it came to my attention that Graham Greene has been called the Reluctant Catholic.  That title he bears for the fact that he believed that Catholicism was true and yet he wished it were not, or behaved as if he wished it were not.  Henry Scobie, the main character in his book The Heart of the Matter (the only book of Graham Greene's I have yet read) much resembles that perspective and for that reason I found him a fascinating and relatable character.

For are we not all Reluctant Catholics?

(Nota bene: Although that question refers specifically to those who know that the Catholic faith is true, this appellation may be applied similarly to the broader term Christian, or even extended further I daresay.  You might, if you wish, for example, think of it in universal terms in which you see the word “Catholic” as standing for universal truth and thus understand my meaning according to whatever that term means to you.  Also that will save me the trouble of trying to resolve upon a more universal phrase that would be bound to be decidedly more cumbersome.  So I continue.)

Whenever we know that one thing is right and choose to act according to our own desires instead, whenever we prefer our own pleasure to the good of others, whenever we refuse justice because it means sacrificing our own comfort, we are Reluctant Catholics. Our fallen human nature seems to crave all but the truth. So even when we know the truth, we act as if we wished it were not true.

Few stand out bravely from the vast crowd of Reluctant Catholics.  Although many speak beautifully of various aspects of the truth and preach its good works, when faced with some challenging situation they quickly revert to acting as if they wished charity and truth did not exist.

I wish that I could say to you: Do not be a Reluctant Catholic.  Yet I cannot.  I might just as well tell the world not to revolve around the sun.  It is a part of our fallen human nature, which we cannot wish away.

Instead we must learn to accept it—to embrace our shadow side—in order to approach the heights of heaven.  For when we can identify that rebellious streak within us with a cheery greeting of “Oh, you again!” we are in much better straits than when we try to pretend it is not there.  Its recognized presence ought to spur us on to bring our lives into accordance which what our mind knows is true.

After all there is a deep-seated truth hidden in that phrase, Reluctant Catholic.  It implies a belief so powerful that it is impossible to deny.  Scobie expresses that position so paradoxically—and even controversially—as he struggles against what he knows is true.  He tries to convince himself that love requires him to act contrary to his beliefs, but it only makes him miserable because deep within him is a belief in the truth so overwhelming that he cannot ignore or deny it.

So I say to you: Be a Reluctant Catholic. Come to know the truth so deeply that you believe even if you wish not to believe.  Only do not be lukewarm.  For if you delve into oceanic depths of truth, seeking the face of God, then surely your love will grow and you will choose the truth in the end, even though first you must wrestle much with yourself and even wrestle with God?