2024-03-08 A Meditation on Austerity

“16 “And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. 17 But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, 18 that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” (Matt 6:16-18 ESV)

Austerity of the Christian is a bit like trying to pin down a helium balloon. Nor is it sin that keeps elevating, soaring heavenward, refusing to be held down: rather, what we sought, what is elusive, is some core of being, some centrality and relevance, some notion that we are in our top form precisely when we make do, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, let loose, Christian, and soar. And yet that elusive thought we wanted to pin down: that elusive sanity check or deprivations that propose to our rational self that in them is healing; instead we become reactive machines, approaching rest with the same holy demeanor, perspective, as we approach work. Certain that our make-do attitude one-ups, triumphs, over the “perfect” fastedness, the “perfect” consecration unto prayer time, the “perfect” readiness.

For these are not bad things, to be found ready; at our post, to be attentive when such time comes as the seasons change; to be a listening ear and a watching soldier; we are soldiers precisely when we lift our countenance to utter pragmatism: life is war, and those so called are inevitably going to be provided for as though by heavenly Manna, yet too they are certain to be found at the beck and call, ready and willing, when the seasons change.

When the seasons change, and we are in our cagey mode, harumphing about and yet not: we learn that all personality is effusive, all individuality is purchase and indulgence: we are not defined by that fast that tries to keep the helium balloon down and now, once and for all solved, but rather we are defined precisely in outright accepting ourselves as Forgiven Beings: forgiven for the drenched walk through the day or night, forgiven for the abandonment of more self-righteous posts, forgiven for not being perfect and not being holier than thou, and not checking those elusive boxes that in fact were just things we invented for ourselves.

Therefore to the stations and to the post: the Christian is found hurting for some mercy, covetous of some belonging, addicted to some love. The Christian is living and let live, soldiers of a more divine stripe, much more content to live in the hallowed halls of Grace than of personal quest and accomplishment. Our accomplishments they falter, they are a bit porky or fat, they aren’t quite capable of truly healing and remaking us, the way someone else’s love for us simply can. The girth of our deeds meets the poverty of our plea: we plead and we have a coach who patiently listens, letting us go a bit farther this time around than last, because our bedrock is certain and sure, guaranteed out-on-a-limb of experimentation, going for broke, simply because of what we have to come home to.