My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.
—2 Corinthians 12:9
I am glad for weaknesses, constraints, and distress for Christ’s sake, for it is when I am weak that I am strong.
—2 Corinthians 12:10
Father Richard describes how Francis, Clare, and later, Thérèse of Lisieux (1873–1897), found a direct experience of God through humility:
In his letters to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul, following Jesus, forever reversed the engines of ego and its attainments, and it is this precise reversal of values—and new entrance point—that Francis and Clare of Assisi understood so courageously and clearly. Seven centuries later, St. Thérèse of Lisieux, a Carmelite nun who became the youngest, least educated, and most quickly designated doctor of the Church, also sought this downward path, which she called “a new way” or her “little way.”
Thérèse—lovingly called the Little Flower by most Catholics—was right, on both counts, since her way of life was indeed very new for most people and very “little” instead of the usual upward-bound Christian agenda. Doing “all the smallest things and doing them through love” was the goal for Thérèse. [1] The common path of most Christianity by her time had become based largely on perfectionism and legalism, making the good news anything but good or inviting for generations of believers. [2]
Thérèse, almost counter to reason, declared: “If you want to bear in peace the trial of not pleasing yourself, you will give me [the Virgin Mary] a sweet home.” [3] If you observe yourself, you will see how hard it is to be displeasing to yourself, and that it is the initial emotional snag that sends most of us into terribly bad moods without even realizing the mood’s origins. To resolve this common problem, both Francis and Thérèse teach us to let go of the very need to “think well of yourself” to begin with! “That is your ego talking, not God,” they would say.
Only someone who has surrendered their foundational egocentricity can do this, of course. Psychiatrist and popular writer Scott Peck told me personally over lunch that this quote was “sheer religious genius” on her part, because it made the usual posturing of religion well-nigh impossible. It mirrors these teachings from St. Francis:
Show your love to others by not wishing that they be better Christians. [4]
We can patiently accept not being good. What we cannot bear is not being considered good, not appearing good. [5]
Until we discover the “little way,” we almost all try to gain moral high ground by obeying laws and thinking we are thus spiritually advanced. Yet Thérèse wrote, “It is sufficient to recognize one’s nothingness and to abandon oneself as a child into God’s arms.” [6] People who follow this more humble and honest path are invariably more loving, joyful, and compassionate, and have plenty of time for simple gratitude about everything.
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| Psalm 131: Faith on the Other Side of Complexity |
 Click Here for AudioIn the gospels, Jesus rebuked his disciples for their pride and ambition. They had been arguing about who would be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, so Jesus called a child over and said to them, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Later, however, the Apostle Paul rebuked the Christians in Corinth by calling their “worldly” behavior childish. He said they were “mere infants in Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:1-2).I have heard Christians say their lack of interest in learning the Bible or doctrine is because they want to “preserve their childlike faith.” In other words, they’ve made biblical ignorance into a Christian virtue. Is that what Jesus intended when he commanded his followers to become like little children? And what did Paul mean when he said, “I put the ways of childhood behind me” (1 Corinthians 13:11)? Is a childlike faith good or bad? Is it a mark of innocence as Jesus implies, or of ignorance as Paul suggests? Psalm 131 can help us solve this puzzle. The short poem contrasts a proud, haughty heart with a weaned child quietly resting in its mother’s embrace. It’s an image of frenzied anxiety juxtaposed with a picture of quiet contentment. What’s important to notice, however, is that David is comparing his previous state of striving and grasping for control, with his current posture of trust and surrender. He has passed through that chaotic season to discover peace in God’s presence on the other side.I believe this is what Jesus meant when he told his disciples to “change and become like little children.” He was inviting them to surrender their pride and their lust for control, and instead entrust themselves to God’s good care. But notice that Jesus frames this posture as a choice. This is what separates us from actual children. A child has no choice but to trust. They are small, weak, ignorant, and therefore incapable of independence. But we can choose to entrust ourselves to God or continue in the illusion of our pride and power. What makes Psalm 131 so impactful is that David has gone through his prideful, haughty period. He has tried to grasp control, he has attempted to understand all the mysteries of life and faith, and he has struggled to take hold of great and wonderful things. But he failed. His striving was fruitless. So instead he has chosen trust. He has given up, surrendered, and collapsed into the arms of God and put his hope in YHWH rather than himself.This is the childlike faith Jesus values—the kind that emerges on the other side of pursuing control. As Oliver Wendell Holmes said, “I would not give a fig for the simplicity this side of complexity, but I would give my life for the simplicity the other side of complexity.” Paul criticized the Corinthians for being childlike because they lacked maturity and wisdom. Their simple faith was not a choice but a necessity. It was grounded in their lack of experience. But the childlike faith Jesus celebrates emerges from our experience. It is the simple wisdom we discover on the other side of complexity. DAILY SCRIPTURE PSALM 131:1-3 MATTHEW 18:1-5 WEEKLY PRAYER Thomas Wilson (1663 – 1775) Forgive me my sins, O Lord; the sins of my present and the sins of my past, the sins of my soul and the sins of my body, the sins which I have done to please myself and the sins which I have done to please others. Forgive me my casual sins and my deliberate sins, and those which I have labored so to hide that I have hidden them even from myself. Forgive me, O Lord, forgive all my sins, for Jesus’ sake. Amen. |
