Saturday, March 6, 2010

Risk and the modern Catholic

To trust is to risk.

Risk disappointment. Risk failure. Risk falling prey to the ultimate cosmic charade. Risk the unforeseen consequences of allowing God to work in our lives.

Yet, without risk trust cannot flourish.

At Communion and Liberation this week, we discussed the risks of openly living a Christ-like life in modern society. Most obviously, we risk ridicule and disenfranchisement. Let's assume we live our faith humbly, authentically and not aggressively evangelical. Even so, we're excited by the Gospel. We live it as much as we can, however imperfectly. Our enthusiasm naturally spills over into everyday actions and conversations. We may, in turn, infect others with our enthusiasm. But some people, maybe people we respect or care for deeply, will reject us out of discomfort, arrogance or annoyance.

Whether this rejection is subtle or overt, we'll know it and it won't feel good.

It is at this point where trust in God is paramount....and such trust presents a profound risk.

Americanism, by definition, tests faith. We are Darwinian rationalists. (Where's the proof?) We are self-made. (I can do it all by myself.) We are independent. ("Live free or die!") And we are individuals. (Conform and be dull.)

Faith requires us to subordinate our cultural proclivities to God's will -- a God that we cannot measure, a God that subsumes our independence, a God that asks us to live beyond ourselves.

Like Abraham before us, we cannot know our destiny, we cannot predict the trials or beauty that lies ahead. Instead, we trust in God. Through faith, we allow God to work through us, even our Americanism, toward a purpose that is neither easy to discern nor easily defined -- but a purpose that is nonetheless real and right.

To trust so fully is to risk that we are not the makers of our destiny. Ever since Adam ate the apple, this is the hardest risk for humans to accept.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Heroic Death

In Sunday school this week, we discussed "dying well."

An insightful comment was provided by Tim, a fellow parishioner, who described dying well as being a "heroic death." He meant this dually: the classic image of the courageous Soldier who jumps on a landmine to save his buddies and ALSO the everyday acts of generosity for others (and the death of filling only our personal desires.)

What a powerful way to think of life and death intertwined this Easter season.