Questioning our Walking

Walking is a downplayed image, but it dominates the Gospels as the Magister crisscrossed the Galilee, Samaria, Judea, and beyond. It defines discipleship as we follow Jesus through choices that edify our shared path, now enriching a fellowship centred on the breaking of bread and the sharing of the ‘one cup of salvation’ (Psalm 116,13). 

Exploring this insight allows us to experience ‘self-emptying’ because “Is not the cup of thanksgiving for which we give thanks a participation in the blood of Christ? And is not the bread that we break a participation in the body of Christ?” (1Corinthians 10,16) As Aquinas indicates, this sharing not only displays but generates commitment, because nothing matters but the Magister: “Non nisi te, Domine” (Nothing if not you, Lord). 

Musing, faithfulness highlights this intended fellowship:  it sharpens awareness of the Kingdom’s mysterious workings within our hearts. Within this context, Balthasar points out that the heart doesn’t necessarily understand itself: love can transmute and degenerate. Hence, the need to question its meaningfulness as we deepen our faithfulness (Hans Urs von Balthasar, Love Alone: The Way of Revelation). 

Discipleship is, therefore, rooted in a renovated understanding of God’s love, not as an abstract entity but as something experienced in the flesh: “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us ”(John 1,14), which challenges us to reconsider what it means to love and be loved. It challenges us to renew our repentance: its meaningfulness, because encountering God’s love, one realises that we have never loved! 

This experience reveals a maturing, evolving understanding integrating a decision for or against the Magister: for example, Peter and Judas. Unless persistent and realistic,  addressing our following Jesus, contrition degenerates into subjective rejection. Hence, “he went out and wept” (Matthew 26,75) rather than “he went out and hanged himself” (Matthew 27,5). Repentance enlightens our walking. 

Like Peter, we need to admit our betrayals and not despair: conscious of the Magister’s faithfulness, we deepen our commitment by renewing our conversion and hence, by serving others, we experience the Magister‘s self-emptying’ (Philippians 2,7). 

The presumption that we do not need to experience this ‘emptying of oneself’ results in a frustrated inability to move forward when speaking of Christ: "All that glisters is not gold"  (William Shakespeare,  The Merchant of Venice, II.7) Questioning our walking, a repeated insight reappears: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6,21).


Martin



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