Jacob's Well

Famine strikes deep the land, rending dry
Hearts aching with thirst.  No rain falls.
Wells bear muddy water rich with slime.

A few souls struggle up the hill
Outside the city to Jacob's well.
Bucket after bucket is lifted and gone.

Voices clamor for more, but no more
Lies within the emptied well, and still
No rain falls.  Dry, useless, cistern waits,

Cut off from the deep springs by stone
Well-laid long time hence, a tribute
To the cunning foe that placed it there.

The strong one cannot roll away the stone
Blocking the spring of Father's gift
Trapped in mother earth, life tight-sealed.

Seekers drift away, foiled, deluded
By hopes laid in distant mirage. One
Remains, knees bent, head bowed, lost.

If the Father's spring flows not again,
Bursts not through earth and stone to quench
Thirst, give life, then well becomes a tomb.

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?