I went on a date a week or two ago. My friend Laura took me to a play. I didn't want any weirdness afterward or anything, so I paid my own way but she did all the date-making part: chose the play, chose a great restaurant, served me wine as she toured me around her sweet home. She's a good date.
We saw "The Great Divorce" at Pacific Theatre. I bet it's a really good production. If I had the ability to turn off my cynicism, I'd probably find a way to enter into the beauty and art of it all and truly enjoy these things. Sadly my brain takes about seventy-two minutes to power down, leaving only four to six minutes to engage properly in the thing.
That said, the story is a powerful one and was powerfully executed. In it, each character is asked to give up The One Thing they're clinging to so that they can enter the Great Communion in Heaven. And of course, most of them can not. They absolutely can not give up That One Thing.
As we left, I said to Laura that I guess one upside to not really having a passion (can't find the link, but truly, it's a memorable post - if you remember when I wrote it, can you remind me please?) is that there is very little that I hold on to, so I'm probably a sure thing for Heaven if Mr. Lewis actually knew that of which he wrote.
But then my neighbours had a Strawberry Fast. And God did that thing that God does where the miraculous is provided and the faithful are encouraged and my love and I got to hear about it over the fence, one of the better ways to hear about what God is up to I think.
So then at dinner, my love says what my love says, which is if God gets to get credit for all the Goodness, why isn't God getting blamed for the shitstorms. And then I say what I say, which is that it's all mystery and that the miracle of the Strawberry Fast isn't All Of Who God Is any more than the shitstorm is All Of Who God Is: both are just hints at all of who God May Be.
And I was pretty sure I was right. Maybe sure enough that if someone asked me to give up believing that I was right about it, I might be tempted to say "no thanks" to Heaven even.
And then I thought of the other thing I might need to hold on to. The part where it doesn't matter if I'm right at all. That Grace and Mercy are going to show up no matter what I do or think or say or believe. If I have to get it right, I'm not sure I can do it.
In Hebrews, the person who wrote it (it turns out no one knows! a mystery in the book all about mystery! I love this too much...) writes at the beginning of Chapter 11, "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." My date Laura apparently also dates one of my secret crushes, Sarah, who preached all about this verse a while back, and left me thinking this new thing about it. This new thing where the point is that we're only sure that we're hoping and only certain that there are things we can not see.
We're only sure that we're hoping.
We're only certain there are things we can not see.
This is my faith. This might be My True One Thing.
1 comment:
This post reminded me of a Thomas Merton prayer that I love:
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that, if I do this , You will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust You always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.
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