Work in Progress: August 2004

A Lump of Clay's Reflections on the Potter
"Freely you have received; freely give." Matthew 10:8

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Humility

"Humility is not only about knowledge but, even more, about control. Perhaps that is why we love to watch great storms: not because we are in love with destruction but because we need to be small, even if we do not know it. We have become so big, and nature so small, so empty of mystery by science, of danger by technology, and of poetry by rationalism, that we no longer feel confronted by something that we are even tempted to worship as a god or goddess, something greater than ourselves. I believe that if you are not even tempted to worship the sun, the sea, or the stars, if you think of the sun as a very large radiator and the sea as a very large sink, you have lost part of your soul.

"At the beach we know that we are children, that civilization is sand castles, and that life is play. Even Sir Isaac Newton said, shortly before his death, 'To myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea shore…while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.'

"Humility does not mean having a low opinion of yourself; it means having no opinion of yourself. It means being carried on waves of wonder in the presence of something so big and beautiful that you forget yourself. We are never quite happy when we think of ourselves, for we either think of ourselves as great, and become proud; or ugly, and become sad; or neither, and become bored. That is why humility, after the first shock, is pleasant, not painful. We are designed for that pleasure: the pleasure of a small child in a large house. We love the sea because it reminds us of that house. It feels like our home—not biologically but psychologically. We need to be small."

- Peter Kreeft, "The Riddle of the Sea"

Let not self-centeredness take hold of you; at the first sign of self-indulgence, fall on your knees and pray...and pray only for others, never for your own self.

Monday, August 02, 2004

Life Beyond 30+3

I am now officially older than Jesus. Meaning to say, I’ve spent more time on living on earth than He did. How this affects the dynamic of our relationship I have yet to find out, now that my Lord is now technically – uh – a younger man. Today at Mass I was thinking about how the “age difference” is no big deal, and then I imagined myself at age 64…and wondered if I’d still be feeling the same way! But anyway.

I’d always considered age 33 to be the greatest age anyone could be – a monumental year in anyone’s lifetime. After all, Christ ended His public ministry and died on the cross for us when He was only 33; his cousin John, older by a few months, lost his head (literally) at the same age. The great lives of many familiar names in the Church and world history ended when they were only 33 years old – to name but a few: Saint Catherine of Siena, Saint Mary Faustina of the Divine Mercy, Saint Paul Miki; Alexander the Great, Evita Peron, John Belushi, Chris Farley…er, ok, some lives greater than others.

My life didn’t end at age 33…and I have to say I’m slightly disappointed. The greatest age anyone could be, and I lived through it without going out with a bang! Now age 34 seems a little anti-climactic; you don’t have to live up to any monumental expectations – you’re just officially no longer in your “early 30’s.” Blah.

And then I got to thinking – especially after today's indescribably thrilling encounter of His nearness in the Holy Eucharist and continued worship afterwards – that I don’t really mind the reality that there IS life after 33. As long as the remaining years – few or several - of my life are spent in His presence, doing whatever He may will, I have everything I need to travel on this pilgrimage a little while longer.

After all, for many of His friends and children, life began after they turned 33. Saint Augustine was baptized at 33; Saint Ignatius went back to school at the same age. Thomas Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence at age 33, and 33-year old Jim Caviezel played Jesus Christ on screen. And Frodo Baggins, bless his soul, began the greatest journey of his life – a journey of faith, sacrifice, and unselfish love – when he inherited a piece of shiny jewelry at age 33.

In retrospect, year 33 was actually one of the best – if not THE best - years of my life; even when I only truly realized just how good God has been to me and how immeasurably abundant He has been in His love and faithfulness in the last few months before I officially “called it a year.” And, if my 34th birthday – a long, tiring, but overwhelmingly joyous celebration over the course of two weeks(!) – is any indication, then I can only look forward to more years of continued celebration of God’s unparalleled love and goodness. One of the best things of being this (old) age is that you’re old enough – and wise enough – to recognize and appreciate the sources of genuine love in your life in those who have loved and continue to love you decade after decade, century after century, millennium after millennium. And finding new sources of the same God-given love, to draw from, to channel, and to love right back.

I praise and thank my Lord, my Savior, my God, and my dearest Friend, for loving me for the last 34 years through all these beautiful people I call my family and friends…and for making His love known to me in His own special, super-sweet, crayola-64-colors-just-when-I-have-no-tissue inducing way. If I only had the words. :-)

"Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe." – Saint Augustine