The Second

Here’s a test.  What is the Gospel message? a)   Jesus died to pay your debt of sin. b)   Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand! c)   A word that means “good news” Answer:  b Many years ago, after some years in active rejection of Jesus and all things called by His name, and after the consequent despair arising out of ephemeral alternatives, I returned to Him.  I had become acutely aware of my shortcomings and of my inability to rein them in.  I knew that, although my case was mild, it did not differ in kind from others who drift into more consequential, death inducing, shortcomings. On the cosmic scales of justice I deserved punishment quite as much as they.  It’s not surprising, then, that the Gospel of my Protestant upbringing reached me in a profound place of need.  The Protestant Gospel is answer a), “Jesus died to pay your debt of sin.”  What I needed was forgiveness, and that’s what I got, in spa...

On my shelf are many leadership books, which I loved for their emphasis on serving others.  But always I stumbled over the nagging question which came in various forms, "What is your calling?  What is your Vision?"  These questions have the ironic effect of turning a desire to serve others into a desire to aggrandize myself, an endeavor entirely predicated on the thing that drives me .  This is not the fault of the questions, which must be asked, but of the manifold deceptions that turn all things into grist for pride.  So any proper answer to these necessary questions would not center on me and would account for my natural proclivities.  For years no satisfying answer came. Lately, however, one of Fr. Hopko's maxims suggested itself as the answer. Be an ordinary person. The leadership imperative as I have understood it, finding one’s core motivation, bears no relevance to this maxim.  And I've begun to catch a glimpse of what I might lo...

Be careful what you ask for you just might get it .   For many years this has functioned as a warning against frivolous prayer, against treating God as a butler.   Persistence in such requests may invite, rather, a painful object lesson.   But none of these calculations interfered with my decision, soon followed by the action, to ask God regularly to help me be an ordinary person.   My life has had many voices saying that “ordinary” is the way to go.   The message did not connect.   It’s not that I am extraordinary, but that “ordinary” has operated as a term of disdain.   A litany of enticements beckon:   Success, meaning, impact, “make a difference,” “fulfill your potential,” on and on and on.   Naturally this meant that I needed to make everything around me better, and be better than others.   The results?   Failure by an impossible standard.   Bitterness.   Frustration.   A scary enticement to disengage, to ce...