2003-11-03 - 10:01 p.m.
In which I pray for a change of heart and at once am met with the challenge of a sinful world
I just returned from a wedding in Memphis, TN. Still recovering and processing and rereading my travel journal from the trip, so look forward to my experiences—they were varied—later on.
On my way hither and thither I submerged myself in The Life of Saint Teresa of Avila By Herself. I picked it up the other day when Alexia and I wandered up and down, in and around, all the shops on Main Street, thinking it was a different book altogether; yet, it is a profitable read so that I am grateful for my confusion. You, I think, would like what she has to say on prayer, given your own struggle with guilt and prayer prompted from your mother a few years ago; and my self-same experience with guilt and prayer this summer, which, without your insight and the prayers of friends I might still be stuck in that dull trap.
I found no great comfort in the questions I now have about prayer when, within twenty-four hours of arriving in Michigan I was surrounded with agonizing stories of sinners. I no longer knew how or what to pray about these conditions; yet am determined not to let this get to me.
No sooner had I found a great calm from reading St. Theresa and said my prayers for a change of heart, did the challenges hurl themselves at me to practice the words of wisdom I had read; and then to find that I have no idea how to accomplish this.
I think I am ready to talk to you now about compassion and would urge you to reread Metzger’s blog whose friendship is in every way an example of what I have to say. (And John, I should have gotten over the shock by now that you have a good heart underneath the tough guy personality you showed me Freshman year, but you do surprise me sometimes.)
I know I did not do a great job of explaining anything of value or of myself here. That’s the way it is with things spiritual and of the heart. We are blessed that Our Lord grants some of us words that make sense to other minds and hearts at certain times to make the journey a little less lonely or to make a little bit of sense out of our confusion of thoughts, desires, and imaginings.
Perhaps I would have done better to say that there are times I long to achieve a certain attitude or strength of will, which is really a diminishment of my own will, to become a better servant; and each time I come to this God--without hesitation--gives me an opportunity to arrive at this state. I would venture to guess that I have passed up each one of these opportunities by my own stubbornness and weakness of heart. Through a combination of wanting to love God, a man, and men (humankind) I have, lately, returned to the habits I neglected and gained more from these than I can ever tell.
Perhaps it would make more sense to point out that you responded to you fucked up friend (I can’t write that without wanting to apologize) with grace and compassion when you could have just as easily abandoned him to grovel in his own filfth. You did not. You chose to love him instead, an act for which he may never be grateful, understand, or return. The terms in which I attempt to explain why I appreciate the model you have given, the more it becomes clear to me the ways your friendship imitates Christ. Before I say too much, I think I might have already, and tempt you toward vanity, I will go, but with gratitude and relief.
