Faith and Jell-O

In a podcast I recently listened to, Bishop Michael Curry defined “faith” this way: “I don’t know how all that works.  I just trust that it does.”  Faith is often written about, often discussed, but that thirteen words in two sentences pretty much nails it. It occurs to me that the key word is “trust,” which my Webster’s defines as “firm belief in the character, strength, or truth of someone or something.”  Admittedly, my “firm belief” sometimes seems to be materially consistent with Jell-O.  But still….

A Lesson Within A Lesson

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.” Luke 15:20

It occurred to me in reading this passage this morning that (as I am wont to do) I have made many assumptions about the father as I read and thought about this parable over the years.  That is, being told that the father was “filled with compassion” on seeing his son’s return, I have filled in the details to my own liking and assumed that the father had such compassion from the moment the son left.  I have imagined that he continually looked down the road, hoping to see his son returning.  There is, however, no real support for that in the text, and in fact, one could easily assume (though it would be just that, an assumption) that the opposite was true – that the father was royally pissed off at the younger son and had a change of heart only when he saw the son “a long way off.”  Based on what we know, it does not take too much of an imagination to suspect that the father/younger son relationship was a bit rocky before he asked for his share of the estate, nor to consider that the father was miffed the whole time the younger son was away. (I’ve heard there are people who hold on to things that way.)

The text provides no real insight on these issues.  The father is asked to split up the estate, he does, and the younger son leaves.  The text almost invites me to fill in my own details, so I do. All that to say that there is a lesson within a lesson here.  A lesson about how quick I am, having a few facts, to fill in the rest to my liking, when the truth is I don’t really know. Perhaps most problematic here is the tendency to assume my own details are correct, or at least better than those filled in by others.

The Symphony, the Keys

“Think of yourself in a concert hall listening to the strains of the sweetest music when you suddenly remember that you forgot to lock your car.  You are anxious about the  car, you cannot walk out of the hall and you cannot enjoy the music.  There you have a perfect image of life as it is lived by most human beings.”  Anthony DeMello, The Way To Love

Well, he pretty much nails it there.  So easy to fall into the trap of thinking about the keys and forget about the symphony of life that is playing out around me.  So easy.

Lifeboats

“Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats.”  Peter Gay

Often attributed to Voltaire, the quotists seem to think this is better attributed to history professor Peter Gay.

Attribution issues aside, this hit home today.  I am reminded of a line from Jerry Jeff Walker’s Lovin’ Makes Livin’ Worthwhile – “We’re all livin’ life day to day.  The whole damn world’s just feelin’ its way.”

Indeed we are!  But then, if we admit it, isn’t that true most days?  Which, I guess, explains why “we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats.”

Life

“You have everything needed for the extravagant journey that is your life.”  Carlos Castaneda

I am contemplating this, but it sure feels at times like I packed a bit light.