I Thirst

Today I had a realization, the answer to a question I’ve been asking for months, maybe even the past year and a half. Or at least part of an answer… you may not be impressed, but I don’t particularly care, because God is so good to me and he answers my prayers! On the other hand, maybe it will help you too.

If you’ve asked me about my spiritual life recently (again, maybe even within the last year and a half), I’ve probably mentioned that it’s dry. Like, that's the overarching, raincloud-over-my-head, depressing theme. This is to be somewhat expected, coming out of a fantastic place like Franciscan University. I mean, I go from three Masses a day to 7am only (and I am not a morning person)… from a tight-knit, passionately Catholic young adult community to a parish that is nice, but certainly not as passionate, and quite lacking in young adults… from being continuously formed and supported, to leading others, to being the one who does a lot of the forming and supporting... from a place that fosters holiness to a place where you have to put up much more of a fight. You get the idea. 

I’ve also blamed myself a lot for my spiritual state, and I’m sure there is a lot to that: to my own sins, failings, laziness, pride, lack of motivation, and more. I am always cut to the heart when I read these words:

“Moreover, you have endurance and have suffered for my name, and you have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: you have lost the love you had at first. Realize how far you have fallen.” –Revelation 2:3-5

Ouch. But it’s a good heart check, for sure. Jesus, keep me in love with you.

My realization of today builds upon this experience of dryness and struggle, plus another realization from the other day. I was looking through old journals, particularly those I’ve written since Franciscan, and I noticed something. As I read, it didn’t seem like I had a spiritually dry life at all! Of course there were ups and downs, but nothing out of the ordinary. I had written down oodles and oodles of quotes from Scripture and the saints that God had used to speak to me; I thanked him over and over for the people in my life and the experiences he has given me; it was clear that he gave me just what I needed each day, when I needed it, as long as I slowed down long enough to recognize it! Yet, my overwhelming experience has been dryness. At that point, I was just confused. I also wondered if I was a whiny little brat, saying “God, you don’t talk to me!!” when clearly, he does. This could totally be true… but today, I got another answer.

Let's start with a basic spiritual premise: we all thirst for God! There’s the classic St. Augustine quote, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Without God, we are not satisfied… we can never be satisfied without our Maker, our Lover (cue the “God-shaped hole in our hearts” explanation here). Without the one who gave us life, we have no life! So of course we feel dead without him. We thirst for him (the incredible thing is that he also thirsts for us – see John 19:28, as well as the reflections of Bl. Mother Teresa – but that is another story altogether). 

What I realized today goes something like this: without water, we thirst, and eventually, we die. But do we need to drink water more than once? Of course! Just because I have a drink of water yesterday doesn’t mean that I won’t be thirsty again today – that would be ridiculous! 

This is how it works with God, too. If I experience him yesterday, I still need him today! I don’t just want the memory of him, or knowledge about him… I want his presence now, too. Whenever I’m not close to God, I’m thirsty, to the point of pain (how clearly I can diagnose this pain, or how much I try to numb it away with other things, is a different story for another day). And whenever I am with him, I want to go deeper. We can never get enough of God.

And I think this is why I feel like my life, overall, has been so dry. Because if I’m not tasting the sweetness of God at this very moment, this exact second in time, I am thirsty for it. And we can’t always feel God – not in this life, anyway. 

How does this work with Jesus’ words to the Samaritan woman at the well, that “whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14)? To be honest, I don’t know. I think it may have something to do with being temporal beings. We haven't made it to eternity yet!

Maybe therein lies the key. Until that day of perfect bliss, of being totally united with Christ, I’m going to continue to feel the separation keenly. I want to see the face of God, but I can't yet! My spiritual life isn't a total wasteland, as I've thought; I'm just not in heaven yet.

St. John of the Cross, St. Therese of Lisieux, Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.

“For I've been here before
But I know there's still more”

To Be, or Not To Be (Yourself).

So I found this on the interwebs today:

Gotta love a good Papa Benny quote! But I started thinking... gosh, that's a lot to ask! It's like saying, be happy... but not so much that you're obnoxious! Do your homework... but don't mess up! I'd like an order of french fries... but only the long ones, no little stubby ones please!

And so I wonder, how the heck am I supposed to do that without sticking my fingers in the hot grease and getting burned, hmm? (It's a metaphor, just go with it.)

At any rate, even though I was slightly confused about how to apply this to my life, I was highly inspired. Then I remembered of one of my favorite quotes from St. Paul:

"Although I am free in regard to all, I have made myself a slave to all so as to win over as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew to win over Jews; to those under the law I became like one under the law—though I myself am not under the law—to win over those under the law. To those outside the law I became like one outside the law—though I am not outside God’s law but within the law of Christ—to win over those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, to win over the weak. I have become all things to all, to save at least some. All this I do for the sake of the gospel, so that I too may have a share in it" -1 Corinthians 9:19-23

This happens to be one of my life goals - as a youth minister, of course, but also as a Catholic woman trying to participate daily in the New Evangelization.

It has boggled my mind before... how am I supposed to be "all things to all"? Certainly, I don't want to become a teenager. I like being a young adult! I'm a whole lot more confident, a whole lot less angsty, and God has done a lot of work with me since I was in my teens. I don't actually want to be a teen.

And in terms of the temperaments, I really don't want to be choleric, either. I admire their leadership and their drive, but I also know they are prone to walk all over people if they're not careful. Yeah, that's just not me...

Likewise, I don't want to be a man. I don't feel like I have to elaborate on this... I like being a woman perfectly fine, thank you, and the very idea of not being feminine is just weird.

So what does "all things to all" really mean, then?

Because I really want the lost to get found, kinda like this...

...and I think that St. Paul is on to something (I mean, it's in the Bible, so he must be).

As I mulled over this, I went back to the Pope Benedict quote in the meme above, particularly the last line: "Enter into dialogue with everyone, but remain yourselves."

Ohhhhhhhh.

The classic Catholic "both-and." Which happens to be related to Aristotle's "golden mean," I think. Basically, don't go to one extreme or the other. That's how heresies start... e.g., Jesus is BOTH God AND man. If you get rid of one or the other: oops. Heresy!

So anyway, youth ministry as an example. We love teens where they're at, walk with them, step inside their world, try to bring the Gospel to them through inculturation, etc., but we don't act like them or go back to being a teenager ourselves. We are a much better witness if we don't pretend to be someone else... but we can't stay in our own little worlds, either. If I avoided teens like the plague, I'd be an awful youth minister.

Both-and. Golden mean.

In Blessed Mother Teresa's case, she and her sisters embraced the poverty of those around them. They kept being amazing, authentic Catholic religious (they didn't venture into Hinduism to "relate"), but they weren't afraid to walk side by side with those around them. Both-and. Not snubbing people, but not compromising their faith either: golden mean.

Both balanced and radical. Bam.

(Has anyone else noticed that if you say "bam," after a statement, it just gives it that extra oomph?)

So basically, I'm allowed to be a phlegmatic, feminine youth minister and young adult. And you are also allowed to be who God created you to be (gosh, it took me a lot of words to get to this simple conclusion, didn't it?).

Yet we also have to "enter into dialogue with everyone" and be "all things to all." I still don't have this all figured out. But I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited to see all of us learn how to live this tension, win the world for Christ, and become saints!

Bam.