2024-05-05 A Meditation on Gifted

“20 “I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, 21 that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 22 The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, 23 I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. 24 Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. 25 O righteous Father, even though the world does not know you, I know you, and these know that you have sent me. 26 I made known to them your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”” (Jn 17:20-26 ESV)

Probably the best gift our handlers and parents, teachers and guidance counselors, give us is to look squarely at actual crime, war, drama, without being evasive, with full confidence that the unknown is swallowed up in the victory of the Christ known. That is, we need not fear to be reminded of impossibilities, of unkempt hours, of unfinished business, of warring madness. More: we may accumulate, in wisdom, in money, in friends, but our guild is one of nearness to the disgrace of the Cross. It is a haggard guild. An at times embarrassing guild. An awkward or testing guild. A guild that identifies us so well with ignominy, that only the Resurrection can lift time and reputation from the doldrums.

Resurrection, that Christ has gone before us and seen squarely the Unknown. Seen squarely the view from the Tree, that in His dying hour He may even have seen even farther, like Zacchaeus who climbed a tree that he might see the Prophet, the Messiah, the One Spoken of (Luke 19:4). For we who spoke of Him, though we did it in all reverence, still it was only the few who stood by His side as death stole over Him. It was only a few who knew the All-In bonds of friendship and of “Where would we go? We have nowhere else to go” (cf Jn 6:68) mindset.

It is the day of Glory, then, for the broken man or woman, for the soldier deeply moved, convicted, now confident that their rabid adherence to Mission and to Call will make of their greeting a blessing, of their talk in the streets with one another prophecies, of their placement in the community signs, of their laying on of hands miracles. For they—not disgruntled—are persnickety or audacious in a Deep Call to know Cruciform life together. Nevermind those sleepwalkers or the lazy and habitually unreligious. Religion, true religion, is this: to visit those widows and orphans, perhaps, but above all to understand the framework of that thinking style: that man is endowed with good asocial behavior and bad, the good being to Wake Up those who sleep, with a deed of love for the weaker set; with an act of compassion for the troubled soul; with a bold defensive take on the creative or learning mind. The youth, after all, are the future. That is no asocial behavior but future-relevant behavior: await the day when your deeds of love and mercy are shown to have been God-given.

Then the trauma, the pain, the devil seeming to own certain things and there to have victory over our cruciform trial and hour of painful empty deliverance. Where is the One who delivers us? Was it because there were no tombs in Egypt that we went on this lark? Why shall we be asked not to keep straddling two worlds, as though the domain of sin were not just fine and dandy to dabble in; no, the domain of mercy, of the Cross, is where we shelter, as if in the crevice of the Rock called Christ, Mosaically, like Moses, to not go blind in that Bold Light called Cross. Which Cross has made of us bearers of iniquity. Which Cross has made of us disreputable and fools. Which Cross has made of us crazy prophets and preachers, emboldened to strange outlays but ones causing some sympathy from a general public who knows they need some escape valve, who is secretly supporting the unofficial wild voices. Some precious few, they believe.

Not quite rabid but certainly troubled and to some ears, painful. We are mayors and zealots of a New Dispensation, Latter Rain, the Oxygen of life close to the zone of pain and impossibility.

And the thought: I could be dead or strung-out on the street corner. I know the horror of moments of impaired horror, the drug or disobedient “staying out past curfew” awakening a deep sense of “Oh, no”, of loss of what matters most, of sheer terror at who or what we—failures all—have become. It is in redemptive light a warning not a final judgment, a thought not a mandate: pick up, O future soldier, O dweller of the light, of the Future: pick up, and know that your insight, howsoever arrived at, is a solemn contract that God will bless those who accept a blessing, bless with a Cross, with a fright, with a call to due Haste.

Get thee to the doctor! Get thee to Christ, who shall remake you and give back the years that the swarming locust consumed! Know that your patient prayer, by giving credit to your parent or boss, your teacher or guidance counselor, is bearing fruit for Goodness. Goodness born in us “just trying to stay clear of the horror”. Yes, do that. But also invite in the Cross, who is no less shaky and frightful than that inebriated—spiritually or literally “under the influence” (it can come about simply by staying up all night to greet the morn, or to reach the end of a long hike)—moment of clarity. We too need courage to face untold judgment therein, untold horror at what-all we have witnessed or even ourselves become. Of course, after the “long hike” we then try to professionalize hiking, and the spiritual gift becomes elusive, no formula but rather it was our inexperience or occasional indulgence that made it special. See us foolhardily keep our ancestral bequests of Law: “Son, do the hike… it so helped me…” What our ancestors wanted from us is that amazement and new life in God’s light. If it is in the jaunt, the walk in the woods, then let it be; but sacrament promises the same experience to people in all corners of the world, even in prison (Col 4:2-6). People who pray. People who give quality of life to all whom they meet. Good folk. Folks who teach us to ponder death and to mourn (1 Cor 15:31).

In this we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. We make no self-justifying appeal, but allot all things unto the King, who redeems with Callings and Ministries for each person suited to their moments of Light. Awkward callings. Strange businesses. Wild outreaches. Awesome miracles. No, if it were up to us, we might be back in the line for infamy. But thanks be to God who spared us the existential fright, the sadness, the whirlwind of genuine experience broad, experience that even for the richer set does include Cruciform Thought. All are welcome at this marriage banquet. We come in from the cold. We lose all frustrated accusations of the free-loaders or “those people”: genuinely treating people as good people, we see how Jesus Himself treated us as good! And we ourselves then dare to become good.