Show strength by keeping to the right path

Judging others obscures my self-understanding. Consequently, though not easily admitted, it undermines my discipleship because, “with the measure you use, it will be measured for you” (Matthew 7,2). My negative evaluations of others serve to justify my idiocy: a way to hide myself from myself, forgetful that “if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit” (Matthew 15,14). We need to take to heart this affirmation: “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be pulled up by its roots” (Matthew 15,13). Cicero’s “Fortis est non pertubaris in rebus asperis ” (Show strength by keeping to the right path), enlightens our paths.

Establishing the right path is not easy: experience is the great teacher because, as Seneca points out, ‘we learn for life, not for school’ (Non scholae sed vitae discimus). One way of doing this is to listen attentively to what comes out of our mouths and how this can defile us: “Listen and understand! It is not what goes into the mouth that makes a person unclean. It is what comes out of the mouth that makes a person unclean” (Matthew 15,10-11). Refusing to acknowledge this insight sustains our blindness (Matthew 15,14), which Sextus Empiricus, for example, applies to pretentious teachers. However, it is the Upanishads who best express our intent: “Abiding in ignorance’s midst, thinking themselves wise and learned, fools go aimlessly thither, like the blind led by the blind” (Katha Upanishad).

Silence enlightens our paths: the best answer (Tacent, satis laudent) that permits us to critically appreciate our words, not to let them obscure the encountered goodwill and our ability to witness the Magister. Like fools guided by our prejudices, the ignored faces reflecting the Magister are concealed. Confined, a consolidated fellowship defined by diversity is forbidden, reinfocing unnecessary interrelational tensions. Subjected to envy, anger, prejudice, and self-interest, we can only perceive ourselves. An examination of conscience permits us to appreciate that a sense of inferiority reinforces fear of the other, reinforced by our use of adjectives, which provide an insight in how we perceive others.

This reminds me of an episode about two mothers bound by love for their children. The first woman sobs as her eighteen-year-old son is murdered in a racist attack. Though the second woman does not know her, she seeks her out as one mother to another. Nothing unites these two women: neither their faith nor their nationality, but they were mothers, and their hearts embraced. 

Our commitment to show our strength by keeping to the right path reminds us to examine the authenticity of our claimed ‘Metanoia’. The latter encourages tolerance understood in terms of a learning experience whereby differences are explored as bridges, rather than walls, because “No man is an island entire of itself.” (John Donne, Meditation XVII) Consequently, rather than ghettoes sought or imposed, the disciple seeks to break down barriers. We show strength not by imitating others but, inspired by the Good News, by choosing to be different by witnessing the Magister in deeds, not words.


Martin


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

INTRODUCTION

 The saints did not all begin well, but they all ended well  – Saint Jean Marie Vianney      As stories are told and retold, living them, it is not unusual that they are embellished. This should not surprise us: Gandalf observes that all good stories deserve embellishment (JRR Tolkien, The Hobbit ). Indeed, historical episodes that bedeck national identity are magnified and even altered as they cache the complexities underlying these narratives, now simplified to serve their purpose.       My intention here is diverse: what is intended is a personal undressing associated with an experienced ‘self-emptying’ (Kenosis, Philippians 2,7) as I seek to understand my discipleship: a participation of gained experiences rather than pedagogies.      Following in the footsteps of John of the Cross, ‘ Kenosis ’ relates to a maturing process transforming the disciple into an icon that evokes likeness to the Magister (St. John of the Cross,...
Read more

SILENTIUM EST AUREM

       Growing older and perhaps less tolerant, the old Latin saying   - Silentium est aurem (Silence is golden) enhances its value because it protects me from futile noises, and clarity unfolds. In an environment infiltrated by noise, silence is elusive and yet, in its stillness, my true self emerges from noise’s haziness.             Painful experience has taught me that silence’s aptitude shatters doubt’s commotion. Its stillness enlightens my faith - the confidence in what we hope for and the assurance about what we do not see (Hebrews 11,1). Augustine’s advice thus enlightens: ‘ Enter into your heart, and if you have faith, you will find Him there ’ ( Confessions Bk 10), because in silence, we attune our hearts to the Divine Presence.             Through silence’s stillness, our heart finds its voice: our readiness to dialogu...
Read more

A SANCTUARY IN TIME

     We readily limit the significance of the cross to an emblem to consolidate a religious or cultural identity or as an excuse to enhance our misery, forgetful that “ misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows ” (William Shakespeare, The Tempest II.2).      The significance of the cross highlights our baptism because, as pointed out by Saint Augustine, all those who belong to Jesus Christ are fastened with him to the cross, which sets the setting for Bonhoeffer’s assertion that the cross is not the terrible end to an otherwise happy life: it meets us at the beginning of our communion with Christ.           Scrutinising these insights, we need to focus on Shabbat’s stillness where the cross becomes a sanctuary in time, challenging our trustworthiness: it expresses a lived-out silentium underlined by the Magister’s reassuring presence: ‘ Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest ’ (Matthew 11,26...
Read more