Lent
I have a friend in hospice care. I was thinking of her the other day, and I wanted to pray for her. All I could come up with is "Have peace. Know that you are loved." and hope that God would pass the message along. I think she has both of these things, even in vast quantities, but all I could think to ask on her behalf was more.
Last Tuesday morning, I met with my spiritual director, Mary. She will often suggest looking to your body for insight on feelings. You don't think them, you feel them. In the midst of some anxiety or another, I paused and backed up for a moment. All I could feel was a general all-over buzz, a small but pervasive agitation. I closed my eyes, feeling for the answer, what can be done? Immediately, the response was "have peace. know that you are loved." It then occurred to me that I need this too. For a moment I thought, how selfish that I should ask for the same thing a dying friend needs. Then I said the words again.
The Gospel is told in four versions. In two of them, Jess's final words are something like "My god, why have you forsaken me?" In the other two versions he shows some foresight, he hasn't lost hope, but instead holds it together to the end. I identify with the former two much more than the latter. A few years ago, a friend asked me, "why this guy? why does his suffering matter more than anyone else's? there are multitudes in the world today that suffer as much or more every day." Maybe because we all suffer? In some way, you have to start from the assertion that Jesus is in fact God. Even so, why all the suffering? What does suffering have to do with my salvation? Then it occurred to me: maybe God doesn't take away our suffering because he can't. or at least, he can't without changing who we are, even what we are. Maybe, if he can't take it away, he joins us in our suffering. Not so much that he suffers for us, but he suffers with us. Then it's an act of love. He loves us before, he loves us after. Christ doesn't change that. The only thing that changes is how we see it. Suddenly, I felt the story of Christ as an expression of love I had never experienced before. Christ didn't come to take away my sins, he came to show me that I'm loved. Sins or not. Whether I know it or not. Salvation then has more to do with being loved by God than anything else. I may feel it as being loved by God, even with my sins in tow. Indeed, whether I know it or not, I am loved by God. Whether I know it or not, salvation has been given to me. I've often thought of salvation more here and now, not some "great reward" that comes later. To have peace, to know we are loved.
This does so many things it makes my head spin. If salvation isn't about taking my sins away, I am left with them, as I am left with my suffering. The assurance of that love is what gives us hope. it gives us strength to carry on. in some way, it gives us responsibility. to pick up our sins, and deal with them. and our flaws, and our fears.
Back to Tuesday. So, I liked this idea so much, that I decided to make a point of not forgetting it. I set an alarm in my calendar to remind me. for the rest of the day, once an hour, it popped up. interrupting whatever I was doing. I would pause for a moment, and think to myself have peace, know that you are loved. When I met with my therapist that evening, I told her about this day. she loved it. the more I reflected on it, the more I realized it was doing. At a couple points in my day, I was so frustrated at myself, berating myself for failing to solve some problem or other, or just down because I often am. Then *pop*, here's something from the outside, interrupting this cycle. have peace, know that you are loved. then back to my day. All it had to do was interrupt negative spinning that I get into. It's been over a week now, and so far so good.
Last Tuesday morning, I met with my spiritual director, Mary. She will often suggest looking to your body for insight on feelings. You don't think them, you feel them. In the midst of some anxiety or another, I paused and backed up for a moment. All I could feel was a general all-over buzz, a small but pervasive agitation. I closed my eyes, feeling for the answer, what can be done? Immediately, the response was "have peace. know that you are loved." It then occurred to me that I need this too. For a moment I thought, how selfish that I should ask for the same thing a dying friend needs. Then I said the words again.
The Gospel is told in four versions. In two of them, Jess's final words are something like "My god, why have you forsaken me?" In the other two versions he shows some foresight, he hasn't lost hope, but instead holds it together to the end. I identify with the former two much more than the latter. A few years ago, a friend asked me, "why this guy? why does his suffering matter more than anyone else's? there are multitudes in the world today that suffer as much or more every day." Maybe because we all suffer? In some way, you have to start from the assertion that Jesus is in fact God. Even so, why all the suffering? What does suffering have to do with my salvation? Then it occurred to me: maybe God doesn't take away our suffering because he can't. or at least, he can't without changing who we are, even what we are. Maybe, if he can't take it away, he joins us in our suffering. Not so much that he suffers for us, but he suffers with us. Then it's an act of love. He loves us before, he loves us after. Christ doesn't change that. The only thing that changes is how we see it. Suddenly, I felt the story of Christ as an expression of love I had never experienced before. Christ didn't come to take away my sins, he came to show me that I'm loved. Sins or not. Whether I know it or not. Salvation then has more to do with being loved by God than anything else. I may feel it as being loved by God, even with my sins in tow. Indeed, whether I know it or not, I am loved by God. Whether I know it or not, salvation has been given to me. I've often thought of salvation more here and now, not some "great reward" that comes later. To have peace, to know we are loved.
This does so many things it makes my head spin. If salvation isn't about taking my sins away, I am left with them, as I am left with my suffering. The assurance of that love is what gives us hope. it gives us strength to carry on. in some way, it gives us responsibility. to pick up our sins, and deal with them. and our flaws, and our fears.
Back to Tuesday. So, I liked this idea so much, that I decided to make a point of not forgetting it. I set an alarm in my calendar to remind me. for the rest of the day, once an hour, it popped up. interrupting whatever I was doing. I would pause for a moment, and think to myself have peace, know that you are loved. When I met with my therapist that evening, I told her about this day. she loved it. the more I reflected on it, the more I realized it was doing. At a couple points in my day, I was so frustrated at myself, berating myself for failing to solve some problem or other, or just down because I often am. Then *pop*, here's something from the outside, interrupting this cycle. have peace, know that you are loved. then back to my day. All it had to do was interrupt negative spinning that I get into. It's been over a week now, and so far so good.