One of the most poignant encounters in Jesus’ ministry is between a “rich, young man” and himself, related in the three synoptic Gospels. Here is someone filled with the energy, generosity and enthusiasm of youth, seeking a new and more challenging path for his life. He runs up to Jesus, falls on his knees, and bursts out with: “What do I need do to enter into fullness of life?”

Jesus points him to the commandments as a sure way forward. The response from the youth is almost comical, if it weren’t for his obvious earnestness: “I have kept all these my whole (albeit brief) life. What more do I need do?” Jesus, Mark notes, looks at him with love. 

This young person senses that there is more within himself to give, and Jesus takes him very seriously. “If you really want to give yourself completely,” Jesus responds,”Sell what you have, give to the poor, and then come follow me.”  The youth was not ready for this. He turns and walks away sad, because he had many possessions. And how does Jesus feel at this moment?

Do we desire fullness of life? Do we sense that we have more of our life, of our self, to give? Jesus invites us to dispossess ourselves, to use our wealth to enrich the lives of those who are needy, and to let him guide us each step of the way through life as his disciples. 

What possesses us?  In what do we invest our time, energy, loyalty, and that we guard out of fear of losing? What holds us back or holds us in from giving ourselves more fully and freely? What is more important to us than our relationships, than our care for ourself, than our very integrity? What claims our life as a substitute god? Is it a career, the image we project, some seductive activity, substance or relationship? Have we surrendered our life to a beguiling unfreedom? It is difficult to untangle ourselves from this demonic, deadly, yet familiar, dynamic.  Letting go is the first step.

We all have gifts enough to share. What is our “wealth?” What do we cling to that would bring blessing to others? Is it our time, money, presence, care, a particular art craft or skill, education, the ability to listen, our smile, an ability to speak out for the good and against all that divides and all that is evil? Share in a way that makes life easier or better for someone.

Once we are freer from the tyranny of possessions, have begun giving our gifts to and for others, then we can follow Jesus, without looking back over our shoulder at what we left behind or to see how others are looking at us. There are more than enough challenges, sacrifices and joys walking close to Jesus to engage us totally for the rest of our days. “Come, follow me.”

Bernard of Clairvaux was a monk in the rugged Cistercian order and a dynamic, engaging preacher. Bernard lived in the twelfth century, and had a charism for turning people’s hearts toward God. For him, growing in wisdom was a sign of someone who was on the spiritual path.

According to Bernard, you could tell if a person was moving into wisdom. There are three unmistakeable markers: Admission of one’s sins, giving praise and thanks to God, and speaking only in a constructive way. I find a challenge here. 

It’s not too difficult to own the fact, in general, that one makes mistakes, tries and fails, or is responsible for some not-so-loving actions, thoughts, or speech. But it can be hard to say to someone (especially someone you have hurt), “I did it. It was wrong. I’m sorry.” Our tendency, if caught in a wrongdoing or if we do something shameful, is to deny, explain away, blame…, anything but admit our guilt. Bernard encourages us to simply say, “It was my fault. I sinned.” I am not, and I don’t need to pretend to be, perfect.

Giving praise and thanks to God! No problem? At least not when everything seems to be going the way I want it to. But what about when it feels like my world is disintegrating and I can do nothing to prevent it. In that moment the invitation is to remember that God is the very source of my being. God chose to create me, gifted me, and surrounded me with wonderful people and situated me in this amazing universe. Not only that, God is with me in all that happens – no matter how it feels to me. Thank you, God, for all that has been, for all that is, and for all that will be!

For me, the biggest challenge comes with the third indicator of wisdom – to always, with everyone and in every circumstance, speak in a way that builds up – to never use words, intonations or non-verbal language that tears down. Regardless if the target is another person, an institution or myself, I am to find a way to express myself positively. 

Maybe this is hardest when using constructive criticism. Constructive criticism sounds almost like an oxymoron. We are to use our gifts for observation and critical thinking to formulate evaluations that build up, not undermine. Sometimes faulty construction or an inadequate foundation requires a gentle dismantling. Constructive criticism often does not feel good to the one on the receiving end. It needs to be delivered wrapped in love for the person, organization or idea being criticized. Constructive criticism is a critical step in re-building even better than before. Isn’t this what God constantly does with us when we are shown our weaknesses, our failures and are invited to grow beyond where we are now?

During the Eighth Century BC Israel was filled with prophetic warnings and instruction. People were taking advantage of one another, especially of those with little power, wealth or status. They were ignoring their obligations to God, while enriching themselves. They believed that their strength was sufficient to save them from any danger. (Sound familiar?) The people’s infidelity to the God, who had bonded with them in a covenant, was opening them to invasion, destruction and being carried off into exile by Assyria – the big, bad, pagan empire of the time. The last of this series of prophets to passionately cry out and call for conversion was Micah.

Micah loved God and was deeply concerned with his people. He summed up what God required of them in three interrelated phrases: Act with justice; love fidelity; walk humbly with your God (Micah 6:8). In other words, “Get your act together. Turn your life around before it’s too late!”

We tend to view justice in terms of a balancing act – weighing out deeds and consequences in some kind of mathematical formula (e. g. an eye for any eye and a tooth for a tooth). We think that it is very fair if someone who does something wrong or harmful gets a properly measured punishment. We are into payback; not justice. Justice in Scripture is infinitely different (literally).

We are to treat others as we would like to be treated. But there’s more! We are called to treat others as God treats us. Whoa! God, an equal opportunity lover, makes the sun to shine and the life-giving rain to fall on good and bad alike; on wicked, sinful unbelievers the same as on those of us who think of ourselves as the righteous ones. That’s unfair! That’s the God that Jesus reveals to us – the only true God there is. Deal with it. God forgives everybody for everything. God works for the good of all. We are to act this way.

Love, in the understanding of the people of God, meant to choose to be wholeheartedly for someone or something. The word for fidelity in Hebrew, hesed, is at the heart of the covenant. It captured how God was for the people: faithful, kind, loving, good, compassionate, tender. To love fidelity is to put our whole self, holding nothing back, into infusing all our relationships (God, others, self) with faithfulness, kindness, love, compassion and tenderness.

Adam and Eve, as pictured in the first chapters of the book of Genesis, were accustomed to walk with God in their garden paradise in the cool of the evening. Their intimacy with God was shattered when they decided that they preferred to be like God rather than to simply savor being with God. They cut themselves off through their arrogance. To walk humbly with God has two main facets: to walk in step with God, not trying to get ahead of God nor falling behind; and to walk humbly, certain that we are loved as we are. We are wonderful, amazing, precious, but we are not gods. Humility is about holding in dynamic tension our littleness and our awesomeness. 

Micah invites us to reorder our lives in justice, fidelity, love and humility. God will supply the grace-energy needed to live in this way. That’s a promise.

Multiple times in the gospels Jesus tries to warn his disciples that, because of his unshakeable decision to follow Abba’s will no matter what, he’s on a collision course with the powers that be. This will result in arrest, humiliation, torture and death.  For him, all this is crystal clear. Jesus knows history and can read the signs of the times. His disciples, like us, find this too difficult to consider, so they tend to ignore, change the subject, or even attempt to talk Jesus out of this trajectory for his life. After all he is God’s Anointed One! Often Jesus continues with a description of what this means, concretely, for his followers (us).

The Paschal Mystery: a faith-filled life, consequent suffering, death(s) (little and big) and being raised to fullness of life, is the pattern for the Christian way. Jesus teaches that if we want to be his disciples we need to deny ourself, take up our cross (Luke adds that this is to be our focus each day), and follow him. Jesus, and Jesus’ way of life, is our Way. But what this might mean is often so twisted out of shape that it becomes unrecognizable as having any connection with Jesus and his teaching.

The idea of denying ourself can be seen as a self-focused effort to root out any and all comfort or enjoyment from our life – like a competition with one’s self to prove how spiritually rigorous or pure one is – which is exactly opposite from what Jesus is calling us to. This leads to a hard, cold sense of superiority. Look at me, look at what I can do! Another variation of I-dolatry. It’s all about me, not Jesus, not love.

Another (healthier?) perspective on denying one’s self is to not feed my ego. To be so caught up in love (God, others, self) and gratitude that there is no time or energy left for self-assertion – trumpeting how great I am. Like it or not, I am not the center of the universe. My life (time, energy etc.), my gifts, my personality are at the service of  something bigger than me, something outside of myself. This is what I was created for. This is how I become more fully alive.

Taking up one’s cross, too, can be distorted into looking for (or inventing) hardships and suffering so that one can appear properly burdened. We might be so intent on finding a cross heavy enough to drag along that we seek out and put up with all kinds of needless pain –  not at all what God desires. We seem to prefer the crosses we make for ourselves over the one that comes to us through following Jesus’ lead.

Jesus did not go searching for the cross. It was brought to him by others, precisely because of the way he chose to live his life. The cross of Jesus comes as a consequence of his loving obedience of Abba. We don’t have to preoccupy ourselves with finding our cross. It will fall to us if we live as Jesus lived. Love inevitably entails pain and suffering. The one who loves shares the joys and the sorrows of those he/she loves. The one who loves will frequently be misunderstood, misjudged. We are called to love wholeheartedly and completely, and to accept the consequences of our loving.  This is the cross we are to embrace. 

Following Jesus is not about trying to act as if we are Jesus. We are not saviors of the world. We follow him by living with the same total conviction that he did, by choosing to love all those whose lives intersect with ours, no matter how they treat us. We follow Jesus by speaking the truth, strongly and kindly. We follow Jesus by becoming Good News, by embodying the Good News of God’s unconditional and universal Love. Jesus is the model for our living in the world today. He invites us to follow him.

This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the gospel. (Mark 1:15) or Now is the time you have been waiting for. God’s Kingdom is breaking into history. Change your mindset and your way of seeing. Believe the Good News.

Jesus follows up on the mission of John the Baptist, whom Herod has imprisoned, adding a sense of urgency to the message. This is the moment! God is acting in accord with the divine promises to bring about what God (and we) most truly and deeply desire. What does this compelling invitation require of us?

This is the critical time – the only time we have. We need to be here in this present moment, awake and ready to respond to whatever God asks of us. We can’t afford to become lost, trying to redo the past or striving to preview the future before it even arrives – pretending that we can penetrate the veil of the fearful unknown that has not yet come to be and somehow undo it. Both worry and fear drive us out of the present moment, which makes our life more difficult. This being here, now takes practice and discipline.

The fullness of what God wants for the wellbeing of all people, all creation, is waiting for us to claim. God is inviting us out of the quagmire of sinfulness into the divine Kingdom. The biggest and most inclusive dream of humanity, and that for which our hearts long, is ours to embrace. Why would we continue to cling to our own tiny illusions, when such an incredible treasure is directly in our path? We need to act. We need to choose God’s way.

Whatever stands between us and God’s desires for us needs to be taken down. Whatever within us that holds us back from wholeheartedly welcoming the fullness of life that God offers needs to be released. Repent is not, first of all, about removing all the little (and big?) sins in our life. Repent (Greek metanoia) is a radical interior transformation, a complete change of mind and heart: putting aside our favorite, familiar, comfortable patterns of seeing and judging everything. God, through Jesus, calls us to let go of our way in order to let ourselves be led by God’s Spirit. If we repent in this sense, the pull of that which separates us from God (i.e. sin) fades.

Perhaps the big sin we cling to is partial or conditional belief. We wonder if God is truly all and only good. Doubts can arise, especially in trying times, about how trustworthy God is. We want so much what seems to be unimaginably good, yet we can so easily talk ourselves out of accepting the possibility that such goodness exists – especially in the face of so much pain, suffering, evil. The Good News is that God is goodness itself. The Good News is that God is Love. (1 John 4:16)  And the love of God is for all. Believe the Good News. It’s for you.

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Just because something is simple doesn’t mean that it’s easy to do. Take, for example, one line from a psalm: “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

This song is filled with remembering all that God has done and is capable of doing, and basically tells us to trust God and to relax. Too much of human life is charged with a kind of desperate energy. We think, if I don’t do this everything is going to fall apart, as if all depends on us. “Be still” implies an invitation and command to stop trying so hard, to stop struggling to make things happen. Or as the wisdom from the East would put it, “Don’t push the river!” (It flows quite well on it’s own.) As long as we are wrestling with what life throws at us, it’s very difficult for God to get our complete attention. And it’s a call not only to cease our ceaseless busyness, but to still all the noise within.

God is not demanding passivity of us. We are responsible to and for whomever and whatever constitutes our days. God asks us to adjust our perspective away from self-focus to God-focus. We can only do this when we stop and quiet ourselves.

Ironically, quieting ourselves takes work. It sounds like it would be effortless, but, the harder we try to make something happen (especially interiorly) the less likely it is to come about. Just to be open, peaceful, free of fears and aware of God’s loving presence requires that we learn to put to the side for a while the myriad concerns and curiosities that normally preoccupy us. A routine, followed daily, of simply being present in the moment helps immensely.

For a few minutes we make God the center of our attention, remembering all God’s blessings, remembering how absolutely God loves us and that God is with us here and now. We breathe in peace and breathe out any and all disturbing distractions.

It is only when we come to stillness in this way that we can know (in the biblical sense of experience) that God is truly faithful, reliable and deeply caring of all.

“Be still and know that I am God” can become our spiritual path. 

Challenged and haunted by a verse from the Letter of Paul to the community in Thessalonica (1 Thessalonians 5:17), an anonymous pilgrim, following the advice of a wise spiritual teacher, succeeded to pray without ceasing by continually repeating a brief statement of his faith captured in a single, simple phrase along the lines of: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior, have mercy on me a sinner.” After years of non-stop repetition the pilgrim found that this prayer had taken up residence inside him and unceasingly prayed itself day and night as a reverberation of his very breathing.

Therese of Lisieux, barely more than a child, had a fiercely passionate heart for all things related to God. She dreamed of being a great missionary bringing the Good News to the farthest corners of the world. Limited by her fragile constitution, she devised a “Little Way” to transform herself and the people around her. This Little Way consisted of seemingly insignificant actions, gestures of kindness, presence to and awareness of others – putting aside her own comfort and convenience – especially when she felt least inclined to do so. Therese just tried to treat all others well.

These are only two of countless examples of how to discover and implement a spirituality within our own lives – whatever our temperament and the circumstances that make up our day to day. Be carefully attentive to God, to others, to our selves, to all creation, and act accordingly.

There are countless paths onto the heart of the Mystery that claims our heart. Often called spiritualities, these winding ways entice us and invite our full, total response. Monks in solitary cells, ascetics, wandering teachers and preachers, nuns who dedicate their lives to the care of others in the name of justice, may come to mind when we consider spirituality. Techniques such as mindfulness, fasting, chanting may be used. But most of us, with our crazy-busy days, have trouble relating to much of what seems to constitute the spiritual life. We crave deeply to become freer, more fully alive, more loving, more truly human and we cannot see a connection between this deep inner hunger and a lot that proven traditional (and misunderstood) spiritualities seem to require. They just don’t fit us. We’re not world-class spiritual athletes.

The Judeo-Christian scriptures offer numerous examples of what could be labeled mini-spiritualities. In just a few verses at a time we can find clues to how we might  enter more deeply, more completely into a positive relationship with the Presence that calls us to fullness of life and, at the same time, into dynamic, creative, life-giving interaction with all that makes up our shared world, including our self. 

From time to time I hope to unpack the riches of one or another of these mini-spiritualities in this space.  In the meantime, take care.