“This week has been so full of God moments, it’s hard to pick just one” I say to my friends as we sit in a quiet coffee shop, catching up and sharing about our weeks. I had been pondering how I’d answer this question all day today and especially in Adoration prior to our gathering. Would I share about the mercy and love I felt in the confessional? How about the breath-taking beauty of the 80,000-year comet my husband and I saw on Tuesday? What about the rejuvenating peace of the changing seasons that I savored on my walks this week? Or should I pick the leisurely lunch with a sweet friend of mine where God was tangibly present with us?
One of my favorite parts about our Thursday meetups is when we each answer the question “When were you most aware of Christ’s presence?” It’s always awe-inspiring to hear the ways God makes himself known to us and some weeks it’s hard to pick just one moment as the moment. Lately, I’m seeing God in everything and so truly, this week felt full-to-the-brim with Christ’s presence. His presence in the good and the beautiful; His presence in the ugly and hard. A precious gift to be given and one that I’m actively working to receive.
So, back to the coffee shop: we sipped our drinks and after pausing one final time, I opted to share the giggle-inducing adventure my mom and I had on our way home from another town on Saturday that involved a fuel light and literally flying into town on “eagle’s wings.” (This is a story for another time, though. It really deserves its own post, and I promise to share it soon!).
Had I not opted to share that Christ moment, a close runner up would be the way the Lord is speaking to my heart this week through intricate connections about the concepts of self-emptying, humility, and obedience, and this is where I’d like to invite you to join me today. Here in this place in that is both motivating and exhausting; desirable and off-putting; muddy and at the same time, incredibly clear.
Let me first you take back a few days to set the stage…
Three Lightbulbs
On Thursday night, I arrived at church for Adoration with my head still buzzing from another busy day. As soon as I entered the chapel, my heart settled down. My head soon followed as I began to pray. I’ve developed a sort of routine in my weekly Holy Hour:
- I spend the first few moments of Adoration “heart-dumping,” where I lay out in the open anything and everything that’s on my mind. This practice, which I learned from one of my favorite priests, allows me to then spend the rest of the hour adoring and conversing with God (mostly) undistracted. I like to imagine it’s like removing the build-up that’s blocking the ears of my heart so I can better hear God’s voice.
- Then, I move into “the listening” where most of the time, I pray with scripture, listen to a meditation or music, or just rest in the precious Sacred Silence. This usually takes up the rest of the hour.
This week, as I do most every week, I spent time in my Every Sacred Sunday Journal, reflecting on the readings for the upcoming weekend. This week’s Gospel reading is from Mark and tells the story of the sons of Zebedee who say to Jesus “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you” (Mark 10:35) with the ‘whatever’ being to be granted the glory to sit on Jesus’ right and left. After Jesus tells them that privilege is not his to give but is rather for “those for whom it has been prepared” (Mark 10:40) the Gospel ends with “For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45)
Honestly, when reflecting on the readings, I underlined many things in the first and second readings, as well as the responsorial psalm, but nothing in the Gospel. At the time, nothing jumped off the page, so I wrapped up my notes and moved on, pulling out my copy of An Ignatian Introduction to Prayer by Father Timothy M. Gallagher, O.M.V. This little book that I picked up in the gift shop of the retreat center where I made my first ever silent retreat this summer has become a staple in my prayer time. I flipped to a random reflection somewhere near where I last left off and began praying with the scripture listed: Philippians 2:1-11.
I reflected on the scripture, making note of the common themes of emptying, humility, and obedience. I wrote each word at the top of my journal and then beneath it the question: Lord, how are you calling me to this? Even after journaling for a bit, going so far as to look up the definitions of each of these three words, I didn’t draw a direct connection to the Gospel. Although, the prayer time was still fruitful and I came away with the sense that God was inviting me to more deeply embrace His desires for me, His will for me, and His plan for my life. This is not a new invitation, but one I receive over and over again. And an invitation I too often glance over and place in what I’d consider the piles of “mail” stacked up in my brain. As such, I didn’t put much more thought into self-emptying, humility, or obedience over the coming day.
On Saturday, however, a lightbulb went off (or perhaps I finally noticed a light that God had already illuminated…) when I spent time praying with scripture again alone in the park. I grabbed a coffee and drove around looking at the stunning autumn leaves. Deciding the day was too perfect to just sit in my car, I grabbed a blanket and my bag and found a comfy spot on a bench overlooking the river. The light gray clouds provided the ideal backdrop for the yellow leaves on the opposite bank to just “pop” and I sat for several minutes in silence. The moment did indeed feel perfect – the cool overcast day, the leaves nearing their peak, the creamy cold brew I was sipping, the sound of running water and busy birds. All these things are some of my favorite things and here I was, getting to be alive and enjoy it all. What a blessing, I thought.
On the comfy bench in the cool October air, I once again opened my copy of An Ignatian Introduction to Prayer and again flipped open to a random reflection. This time, the scripture to pray with was Matthew 20:20-28. I opened my bible and began to read:
Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee approached him with her sons and did him homage, wishing to ask him for something. He said to her, “What do you wish?” She answered him, “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus said in reply, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” They said to him, “We can.” He replied, “My cup you will indeed drink, but to sit at my right and at my left [, this] is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” When the ten heard this, they became indignant at the two brothers. But Jesus summoned them and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and the great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
Matthew 20: 20-28
Three. There it was. Often, the Lord has to tell me something three times before I truly pay attention. As you can tell, this was the same story of the Sons of Zebedee, albeit with a slightly different perspective and from the Gospel according to Matthew. This scripture once again was speaking to the concept of self-emptying, humility and obedience – how’s that for a God moment?
Finally getting the message, I closed my bible and listened, only this time not to the birds, or the running water, or the sound of the cottonwoods, but to God. Lord, how are you calling me to self-emptying, humility, and obedience?
Losing Control
I’m not sure about you, but I like to have control over things. Perhaps its because I’m an oldest child, or maybe it’s because I’m an anxious person, or probably just because it’s our human nature to want to choose our destiny – I mean God gave us free will after all, didn’t He? I want so badly to have control and yet God has been reminding me in big and little ways, just how little control I have over my life. From a fertility-impacting diagnoses two years ago, to losing my brother-in-law in a tragic car-accident this summer, to beautiful God moments like accidentally sitting in the exact spot where the sunlight shone into the church in two different pews on two different occasions at two different times of day on two different days where I needed that warmth of that sunbeam, a touch from God that I could feel not only with my heart but with my body, too.
God knows we desire control. He knows all the ways we want to (and do) misuse our free will and yet He never stops gently calling us to a better way: the way of self-emptying, humility and obedience. A way that doesn’t cheapen our destiny to who we want to be, but which allows Him to raise us to who He created us to be. No matter how many times we put His invitation in the “junk mail pile” He continues to send it, eagerly awaiting our response. He longs to make Himself known to us through a life full of Christ moments – a gift we must actively work to receive.
To empty ourselves is to let go of control and conform our life to Christ’s. To let go of our will and instead, embrace total receptivity to God’s will. To let go of the ideas we have for our path in this earthly life and even for the place we want God to prepare for us in Heaven, instead holding fast to the hope that God knows best where we belong, both on earth and in Eternal Life.
To live in humility is to not just hold fast to that hope out of self-interest, but to defer all things to God because He is God, and we are not. It is to submit ourselves to His Holy Will in the big things and the little things and to do so as an offering of praise.
To be obedient is to willingly release the grip we have on everything we love, everything we hope for, everything we desire, cherish, and think we need when God whispers “let me take your hand.” It is recognizing that He alone suffices and that He alone is far better than anything we could ever dream of obtaining.
To do all this is to live a life full of Christ moments because we are so totally united to Him that we are actively seeking Him in all things and seeking to see Him in all things, too. It is to know with absolutely certainty that God is goodness itself, and He knows what is good for us better than we do. To exist in a state of self-emptying, humility, and obedience is to totally, whole-heartedly, passionately lose any sliver of control we thought ourselves capable and worthy of holding. But is losing that which was never meant for us even a loss at all?
And amid that loss, because it will feel like a loss to our humanity, what is left? God. God and His infinite, perfect love. God and His desire to show up for us in every moment of our lives, in every circumstance and pain, in every experience and joy. God in His omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence. God is there where our control is not. God is there waiting for our open hands and hearts. God is there waiting to replace our plans, desires, and preferences with His own. God is there in the humility and obedience waiting to fill our emptied selves fuller than we’ve ever been.
And we can be there too, if only we loosen our grip.
In what ways is God calling you to self-emptying, humility, and obedience? In what ways is He desiring to make Himself known to you?
I encourage you to explore these questions (and if you’re reading this in Autumn, exploring these questions with a coffee under a canopy of stunning leaves is highly recommended)!
