Tuesday, March 25, 2014

a prayer


What voices are telling me what I “ought” or “should” be?
Is it God or someone else?
I ask for the grace to trust
that God knows me best
and to pursue the opportunities he is presenting to me.

an invitation

Then the father said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” Luke 15:31-32

At the end of this familiar parable the father of the two sons extends an invitation to his older son to "celebrate and rejoice".

A lot of us who have been in the Church a long time are like the older son. We forget that God has "blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing" (Eph 1:3), i.e., that God has already told us, "All that is mine is yours." So we work hard out in the fields, trying to earn "even a goat". And we resent it when other people celebrate and rejoice, feasting on the fatted calf. "What did they do to deserve to be so happy? Why aren't they more like me, hard-working, stressed-out, miserable?"

Meanwhile, God is at work in our world. People are being saved. The angels are rejoicing. There are random acts of kindness, beautiful sunsets, joyful laughter, warm hugs and puppies. (Am I getting too precious? I should have stopped at laughter. But it's all true, really.) There's a party going on. If we would open our spiritual eyes we would see that there's so much to celebrate.

Not that there isn't work to do. But are we doing the right work? We are slaves to our calendars, constantly checking our email and texts to make sure we haven't missed something we were supposed to do. But who is determining what we are "supposed" to do?

And God doesn't call us to do all the work. He calls us alongside to work with him. He is the master, we are privileged to be his apprentices. Even Jesus said that he could only work where he saw his father already at work (John 5:19). Jesus' words remind me of a young son looking for his father, finding him in the workshop, and then being guided by the father to learn how to skillfully use a hammer or chisel or compound miter saw to make something beautiful and useful.

But we insist on doing it all ourselves, bitterly proud of our efforts, stubbornly staying out in the field, wondering why we aren't getting more rewards from God. The reward God really wants to give us is himself. (The rest is already ours.) He wants us to join him in the party, to celebrate the wonderful things he is doing. Will I accept the invitation?