is so easy to work, work, work, building up our resumés. Noses to the grindstone. Shouldering on. Or for those who aren’t in jobs any longer, filling our days with tasks, scrolling the news. But, when it all comes to a stop, when we are done on this Earth, have we built up what really matters?
Will we leave behind people who loved us, who we loved with everything we had to give while we had the chance to give it? Have we showed our people how much they mean to us? Have we dared to truly love?
Or will we leave too much left unsaid, unfelt, unloved?
I wonder about Christians responding to the challenges confronting our world right now. How does worshipping a humble carpenter, a servant, a loving non-violent man, inform our choices now?
He shunned power. He empathized with the suffering of others. He humbled himself even unto death.
I wonder about the choices he made while tempted in the desert before embarking on his ministry:
Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. 3 The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”
4 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple.6 “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:
“‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”
7 Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. 9 “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”
10 Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”
11 Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.
Matthew 4:1-11
Would Christians today think he made the right decision to eschew power? A while back, WWJD (What would Jesus do?) was a common question. It’s still worth thinking about now.
We see Jesus saving the lost, healing the sick, speaking truth to power, standing up for the marginalized, refusing to grab power. Isn’t that what he would expect those of us who follow him to do now?
And he would, of course, tell us, as he told so many when he walked this Earth,
If you look carefully, can you tell who is suffering a storm in their lives? Maybe the fog of depression, the tumult of marital strife, the buffeting of indecision, the downpour of failure? Often a calm demeanor masks these inner storms. Maybe you’ve experienced some rough weather of your own. In all of these situations, your personal sunshine–a warm smile and cheerful disposition–can quiet the storms, or at least make people feel not quite so lonely until the sun shines again. Today, bring your sunshine with you; you never know who is in a stormy place.
When you have the power, or are on top, or when everything is going your way, it’s only natural to want to strut. You don’t want to think about a time when you might be powerless, on the bottom, or have the world against you.
That’s a downer, isn’t it?
But that’s exactly where religion urges us to go, to think about the world from other perspectives, to consider what life is like for people without your privilege, to have empathy with the unfortunate. Because, after all, if you were in their shoes, wouldn’t you hope they would look out for you?
Have you ever had a conversation where what you have to say doesn’t even seem to be part of the conversation? Someone can ask you how you are, and you reply, and they just go on talking about whatever is on their mind as if you’ve not said anything? It’s really more a monologue than a dialogue, since only their concerns are discussed.
It’s frustrating. And lonely to be in that kind of conversation.
Listening is such an easy way to show concern and care for someone else. Responding to what they say, being engaged, asking questions, actually including them in the conversation rather than treating them like they’re only there to hear what you have to say.
In this world of increasing narcissism, self-absorption, and loneliness, listening needs to make a comeback. Not just listening while you’re thinking up what your response will be or how you can divert the conversation back to you and your concerns, but listening. Real listening.
Perhaps the person you’re talking to could really use an opportunity to be heard.
What tools do we need before we start to improve the world? What are we waiting for? Perhaps we are waiting for extra money or time. Perhaps we are waiting for retirement. Perhaps we are waiting to get all our own issues squared away first before we start thinking about helping someone else with theirs. Perhaps we are waiting for someone to ask us for help.
But consider Anne Frank. Forced to live in hiding to avoid the Nazi round-up and murder of Jews, she had little contact with the outside world. She, herself, was in mortal danger around the clock. She was just a kid, really, someone we think of helping rather than being the helper. And yet her attitude was so full of optimism and hope, it continues to shine now, decades later, lighting a weary world.
What a difference an attitude makes! She didn’t wait for the right time or resources. She didn’t wait until she could have a huge impact on the world. She didn’t wait until she was old or famous or wealthy. She didn’t even wait until she was safe. She started right then with what she had. A cheerful disposition, a concern for her family and the others in hiding with her, a willingness to step forward and try to make the world a better place.
What can you do to improve the world? Isn’t it wonderful that you can start right now?
Miep Gies was a young office worker when she hid and supported Anne Frank and her family, protecting them from Nazis and the danger of being sent to a concentration camp. After Anne and her family were betrayed and captured, Miep collected Anne’s diaries and eventually returned them to Anne’s father, Otto, who survived the war. That diary has been read by millions of people now, inspiring acts of heroism and showing, in a very intimate way, the horror of WWII as viewed through the eyes of an innocent, complex, lovely, vibrant girl, Anne.
Miep wasn’t famous or rich or particularly accomplished, yet she managed through her actions to shine a very bright light on hate and replace it with a more powerful portrait of love. Anne, too, wasn’t famous or rich or accomplished, although we can see now how she was a gifted author, but her words have been inspiring and a powerful force against evil in the world.
No matter our position or age or wealth or gender, we each can make a contribution that makes the world more bright.
One of the greatest frustrations of life is not being able to change the past, whether it is to remedy that stupid thing you just said or the larger elements of fractures in society leading to war. The only things we can really do with the past are to live with it, learn from it, and figure out how to move forward. For those who study history, seeing ugly patterns reemerge and take shape can be horrifying.
And yet, it is not all gloom and doom. Indeed, we are not helpless:
One of the curses of history is that we cannot go back and change the course leading to disasters, no matter how much we might wish to. The past has its own terrible inevitability. But it is never too late to change the future.”
― Heather Cox Richardson
We can learn from history what it takes to resist. We can remember who the real heroes were in dark times and emulate them. We can draw on community and coalitions to fight for the common good. We can continue to believe that integrity counts, that honesty and fidelity and honor matter, that kindness will always heal, and that love is, not only good, but the answer to any question.
We can fight. With whatever tools we have: words, money, presence, we can take a stand, doing our little bit of good.
As Desmond Tutu said:
Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.
In 2016, Pope Francis sainted Mother Teresa. She was a beloved paragon of a selfless life, ministering to the poor and dying, shining a light on the importance of the little things and the love of family. After her death, her diaries showed her struggles with doubt. Once feeling clearly called to her mission, in the last several decades of her life she felt God’s absence. She said,
Lord, my God, who am I that You should forsake me? The Child of your Love–and now become as the most hated one–the one–You have thrown away as unwanted–unloved. I call, I cling, I want–and there is no One to answer–no One on Whom I can cling–no, No One.–Alone … Where is my Faith–even deep down right in there is nothing, but emptiness & darkness–My God–how painful is this unknown pain–I have no Faith–I dare not utter the words & thoughts that crowd in my heart–& make me suffer untold agony.
So many unanswered questions live within me afraid to uncover them–because of the blasphemy–If there be God –please forgive me–When I try to raise my thoughts to Heaven–there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives & hurt my very soul.–I am told God loves me–and yet the reality of darkness & coldness & emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul. Did I make a mistake in surrendering blindly to the Call of the Sacred Heart?
And on until her death, she felt God’s absence, rather than his presence. And yet she persisted doing the work to which she had been called, living a life of faith.
Some may call her a hypocrite to have an outward smile of peace and an inner crisis of faith, but isn’t her struggle every one’s struggle? Who among us doesn’t struggle with doubt? Don’t we all rely on faith when our paths grow dark and twisting?
St. Teresa of Calcutta inspires us to hang on during the dark nights of the soul, to continue to walk the walk, to be faithful and steadfast, and to shine light in the dark places. She can aptly be considered the Patron Saint of Doubters.
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