“To be alive, is to be broken.” -Brennan Manning
I forget simple things, like that statement, over and over.
As I’ve said repeatedly, Lent is this season for reflection and contemplation, a time to clear space in my life into which God can speak…
… and I can listen.
At my church, we have been going through a sermon series called “SE7EN”, which is a journey through the Seven Deadly Sins and their effect on our lives. I’ve preached two of the sermons, and each time I have counseled people to get honest with someone and admit their failings.
There’s no shame in having cracks and faults. We all have them; that’s what it means to inhabit this body of ours.
(Of course, the earth-shaking, universe-changing idea is that God decided to inhabit a body just like mine and live a 100% God-centered, God-focused life. This means that brokenness is not an inhibitor of God’s work. It means that brokenness and limitation is a place where God is willing to make his home, in some form or fashion. My job is to recognize that fact and live out that reality.)
Well, I want to get honest with you.
I’m lousy at fasting.
Last week, my wife was out of town, so I was being a faithful house husband: fixing dinner, reheating leftovers, supervising homework and in general running the monkey house.
I consistently blew my fast for 5 days in a row.
I don’t know what it was: the change in routine, the stress of being alone, etc., etc.
The reasons go on and on, but the bottom line remains the same: I failed to control my own self, my ego-driven desires and urges.
By the way, this is not beating myself up; this is merely taking responsibility
Never mind that I was writing daily about the importance of fasting.
Never mind that I had just delivered a message on fasting on Sunday.
This was not my vision for the week.
But here I am, at the beginning of another week. Shana is again traveling, and so I will, again, be faced with my own limitations and temptations.
Part of the spiritual life is an exercise in accepting your limitations while at the same time being doggedly determined to change, progress, and evolve over time.
I believe that God wants more from me, because He has more for me.
Much of my reading recently has come from ancient spiritual masters, from both the Eastern and Western traditions of the Church. More than modern authors, they seem to recognize two key things:
1. The offer of transformation, of *theosis* or “divine union”
2. The inherent limitations of being human.
Because of these limitations, they don’t pull punches when it comes to arranging your life for spiritual growth. Essentially, they say that we *must* learn to discipline and control our egotistical, self-driven urges in order to give ourselves more completely to Christ.
I’m buying that. 100%.
To be alive is indeed to be broken. But to be alive is also to participate in the divine mystery of God-With-Us.
Back to the fast.