Seeing the Light

Friday, Jun. 10, 2016

Educating myself about this faith we proclaim is both reaffirming and disheartening, often simultaneously.

The current case in point arose as I finished reading “Lumen Fidei,” written by Pope Francis and Pope emeritus Benedict XVI.  

The encyclical letter is an invitation for Catholics to renew their faith. It is in turn encouraging and gently chiding, urging us to see with the eyes of Jesus while at the same time admonishing us not to consider ourselves justified because of our good works. Francis has a warning about those who do so: “their lives become futile and their works barren.” 

In a strange way this reassured me, because on the occasions of my mundane good deeds (helping carry a stroller down steps, letting the guy with only two items go ahead of me in the grocery store check line) I always say a silent prayer of thanks that I’m able to make the world a slightly better place.

I think these everyday kindnesses are vastly underrated. Having been on the receiving end of them from time to time, I can testify that they can significantly brighten an otherwise gloomy day. 

They also remind us, in a world of “I, me, mine” where it seems that only the loudest and brashest and most ostentatious are recognized, how much our simplest actions can affect each other. We are after all a community, as Catholics know well. Every Mass emphasizes community, while the Church’s Catechism tells us that “It is necessary that all participate, each according to his position and role, in promoting the common good.”

Our faith can contribute much to our community; it “helps us build our societies in such a way that they can journey towards a future of hope,” Pope Francis writes in “Lumen Fidei.” 

All of which validates how I attempt to live the faith, so I was feeling pretty good as I read. Before I got too far down the self-congratulatory path, however, Francis added, “Faith is not a light which scatters all our darkness, but a lamp which guides our steps in the night and suffices for this journey.”

I slumped in my chair, because that beamed a laser directly into a dank dark corner of my soul that secretly wonders what good it is to pay homage to a god who won’t banish all the darkness, who permits me to struggle, who allows tribulations, who grants access to grief all the days of my life.

Don’t quote the Bible about how suffering is good for the soul. The contemptuous part of me doesn’t care if it’s a good fight that faith calls me to; it has no desire to fight at all. Creature comforts are the only things it cares about.

I know this attitude won’t help me take up my cross and follow Jesus, unless that cross is made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I read those words by Pope Francis that I realized how much I’d been hoping it was.

Now that I’ve managed to pluck this particular beam from my eye, I’m able to focus on the second half of Francis’ quote, that faith will suffice for the journey. I wish I were comforted by those words, and I probably would be, if I thought my belief in God were adequate for the task, but it’s not, I know it’s not, and all I can do is pray that God in his mercy will grant me the grace to pick up my cross and walk a straight path lit by faith on this journey toward his kingdom.