2022-09-20 A Meditation on Mentors

“And he called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases,” (Lk 9:1 ESV)

“Hello. Do you know me? Do I know you?” There is nothing more humbling than to see ourselves the product of the hard work and love of others. There is nothing more humbling than to see our own manifold points of pride, only illuminated in the quiet light of a peer or senior figure. That is, it is others who enable and design us, who are the ones with inspiration, if we ever deign to think ourselves inspired. It is they who serve that role Jesus Himself experienced at the hand of John the Baptist, who prophesied concerning Him, and as Simeon did (Lk 2:29-32); so we gradually acclimate first to that notion of being children mightily promised unto good things, and gradually to grown figures humble and pointing to others.

We had our amber light of childhood. We had our youthful promise and did draw out an anointing from others, who were as Jesus to us: in this game the prize goes not to the one who is lauded, but to the one who serves, who works, who enables others to flourish. Each of us can do that.

And the pent up talents of a population under severe haste and close quarters: a population addicted or meagerly employed in rote work or victim of the losing end of some person’s feud, the soup-to-nuts top-to-bottom fact that the peculiarities of a leader propagate: there is leadership, and if this leadership is unloving, well then people do anything—even self-destruction—to protest, to live out a life emptied of the belief in us coming from another. If the leader is qualified, they bear the burdens of others, and do the impossible: their prayerful outlays do instruct and bear listening ears in a population. So we are no Machiavellian cynics, we are not those who say all is fear and trembling submission. We believe in an ingredient called love.

So our lonely times are also times for deeper reflection and gratitude; we are no longer lonely, having a conversation partner in the Spirit; we see as a reward equal to any tangible reward, just that spare hour to think and to pray. We are inspired to know the full gamut of life and of pain, of privilege and of destitution, of abundance and of penury. Some weights are too great for us to lift, and here the prayer warrior has so graduated from self-centered thought, as to hearken, angelically, to the Cause. So the prayer warrior has Appeared, has known already her or himself perhaps to be uninvited and hated, but no matter, their flag and their uniform has authorized them to serve the greater good; their own penitence has gifted and lifted them; in the end there is laud and honor, gratitude and fellowship. “Hey, let’s get along. Let’s get to know one another.”

Indeed, the mind relishes thoughts of camaraderie, simple rewards and wishes are latent in any service; what we do to serve, we do in certainty that, as we build up others, we too will not die alone. We are challenged to go unreluctantly to that great Cause: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (Jn 15:13). Isn’t it funny, that people actually have heroic moments? Isn’t it some correction to the Lamentations of woe, to that saying that all is sin and all is selfishness?

So as grown women and men we do celebrate people resident in our memory, knowing yes that they had something to teach us, but also that we are surrounded by those whom we were given in life; we have no more regrets, for if we begin there we might never resurface, but do stop the self-exaltation, as John the Baptist did, loving and eager to unshoulder his own burden of service to the people, insofar as inspiration and godliness is gifted and found present in community settings; when the spirit so humbles us, it does so in order that others be lifted up. When we find one another, there is ample sickness and possession cast out and holy space between people.

Drill sergeants we have had, and in life they are dispensing a Holy and thankless duty, but as our betters and as angelic presences, they are content with some kind of personal prayer life that does simply work and announce: the Called and Servant are a great host, come, let us go there. Let us go the way of the Christ, and the way of the Baptist, and the way of the Simeon, and the way of the Mary and Joseph, of the Elizabeth and Zechariah. Let us go, like the disciples, into the fog of war with open hearts, glad, and knowing that selfless service that preempts aggression or resistance. Let us be Ready, Consecrated, Different, Individualistic yet part of a great Host. Let us, in short, get down to our proper business and allow the watchful eyes of those whom we have met and sojourned with along the way, to be satisfied. Their work is complete. And to resist that lesson of mentor and student, is to fight against all who have been upbuilt and taught from their youth. It is a fight against those who believed in us and thereby reassured us we were good people, who reassured us we were Presence and Servant, Sane and Holy in heart and mind, Helper and Aide to a Greater Good.