Wednesday, July 18, 2007

The Siren Song of "I Need It Now"

Since committing myself to Holy Cross’s Rule for Associates, I’ve tried to live more in balance: less time at work, more space for quiet, more routine ensconced in prayer. So much fruit has come from this—and some of it is most visible during those times when, Rule or no Rule, work and other commitments still get out of hand.

The last two weeks, for instance—which included a gigantic work project on ridiculous deadlines—have reminded me just what it feels like to live out of balance. The frenetic pace robs me of my ability to pray, concentrate, or reflect deeply. I have neither the time nor the energy to step back and gain perspective. I suspect this is why people call you for information you’ve already provided in an e-mail, or they repeat back something to you that they think you said, but you really didn’t: they’re moving so fast that they haven’t been able to pay attention.

I can’t live this way for more than a couple of weeks. The pace is insane. It is also, however, strangely seductive. To pull it off, I have to restrict myself to a certain level of input, sealing off perspectives that might intrude on my own sphere. As long as I stay in that zone, I’m OK…or so I think. It makes life easier. It gives at least the illusion of control in a culture that drowns us in information and false urgency.

This isn’t necessarily bad in the short run. Sometimes it’s all you can do to cope with what’s at hand. But when this becomes a long-term strategy for dealing with the world, it closes us off to the essentials: to God, to the deep workings of the universe, to one another, to plight of those who are poor, to listening. It keeps us from the abundant life that God holds out to us to savor and engage.

I wonder if this is why we so often have epiphanies during a crisis or catastrophe. In those moments, life breaks through the illusion of control and forces us to waken to something larger. It may not be that “this catastrophe happened for a reason”: maybe it just happened, and for better or worse, it now presents an opportunity to see beyond our limited sphere.

It’s an opportunity worth seizing, within crisis or without. The life beyond modern culture’s frantic pace—especially life with the Divine Presence—is rich beyond measure. May we embrace it with both arms.

1 comment:

John Backman said...

Great point, Bernard. It reminds me of the very first time I ever tried centering prayer. I don't remember expecting any sort of divine response, but that's what I sensed shortly after beginning. It hooked me on the practice of prayer...which, in turn, has played a substantial role in who I am today.

Thanks for the good thought.