theROCK

Take a Step Toward Sainthood

Sometimes when I hear stories of the Saints, especially those who have stories of heroic martyrdoms, I can feel discouraged, because I wonder how on earth I could ever live a life of that much virtue or a life of holiness that I could courageously die for my faith or suffer through chronic pain or emotional sufferings without complaining.  

Recently, a friend started to tell me the story of one of her favorite Saints, St. Cecilia, who was a second century martyr, and I was prepared to be overwhelmingly discouraged by her story. However, instead of telling the whole story, this friend shared with me one moment of the story that she had been meditating on. Because it was just one moment of the story, I found myself saying, “I can imitate that virtue in her! That one thing is not too hard for me today!” 

Sometimes prayer feels overwhelming too; there are so many hurting people in our lives, Scripture can be confusing, or maybe we don’t know where to start with the Lord.  

Today, the Lord’s invitation to Peter and Andrew is simple: “Come after me.” He doesn’t expect them to have it all figured out. He just invites them to take a step as they begin to follow him. St. Cecilia, when asked her name as she stood on trial for her faith, was able to respond: “my name is Cecilia, but my more beautiful name is that of Christian.” She probably did not have the courage to say those words on her first day of following the Lord, but little by little as she took one step at a time, she came to know the Lord and the great gift of her faith. Don’t be afraid to take one or two steps this week. The Lord is good and just wants to love you!  

Rationalizing Sin

About a year ago I was hanging out with some friends I had a not seen in a while. During our conversation one of my friends said something along the lines of, “that’s wicked,” to which another friend said, “do you mean good wicked or bad wicked?”

While in the context I knew why my friend asked that question, it was tough to know if wicked was being used in its proper form or as a slang way of saying “that’s cool.” I could not help but think how that question reflected all of us. The word wicked properly means morally wrong or evil, in slang it means awesome or excellent. How a word can have very different, even opposite meanings, may seem strange, but I do not think so if we take a minute to realize how often we do this in our own life.

We love to rationalize and put a positive spin on things, especially when it comes to things which are by definition evil or morally bad. This is becoming more and more prevalent in our larger culture, but we do this with ourselves as well. We try to make the sin or bad habit in our life “good” by changing what it is, think of a “white lie.” We rationalize the bad that we do and say, “well it isn’t that bad” or we justify the sin of others saying, “he’s a good person, he doesn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Now both of those can be true, but it is also true that wicked is wicked, evil is evil, sin is sin, and no amount of slang can change that.

This simple exchange between my friends clearly stuck with me and has become a point of reflection that I go back to every so often, which I would like to invite you into as well. What is the sin or bad habit in my life I am trying to redefine and make good? What am I trying to place “good” in front of so I can keep doing it?

This is the opposite of what Christ does and what he invites us to. He does not redefine things to make it easier, he changes and invites us to conversion. He does not want us to be “good” sinners, he wants us to be saints. This is far more challenging than a redefinition, but it is also far less confusing. For with Christ we never have to ask, “do you mean good holiness or bad holiness?”

The Little Drummer Boy

“The Little Drummer Boy” is my all-time favorite Christmas song. Oddly, I can remember singing it in Christmas pageants as a kid hating it. “What a dumb song! There is no drummer boy in the story of the nativity,” I would think to myself while rum-pum-pumming to the beat. But a few years back, a Canadian a cappella group known as Pentatonix released their version of the song. Being a fan of the group, I listened and was amazed when I promptly burst into tears listening.

 Yes, their arrangement is beautiful. If you haven’t listened to it, I highly recommend it. But something about the lyrics to the song hit me in a new way as I listened to them.

 You see, the little drummer boy is me. It is each of us. Whether or not there was actually a little drummer boy at the nativity scene is irrelevant really. Because the story is still a narrative that perfectly describes each of us coming before the infant Lord in the manger at Christmas.

 Here is this little boy who is told to prepare to go meet a new king. How could he possibly understand what that really means? Other than knowing it is something, someone very important. How can I? How can I truly understand the fullness of the babe in swaddling clothes? Who He is and what He means to the world?

 The drummer boy is told to bring his finest gifts for the king. But he is poor. He has nothing to offer anyone, let alone a king. Was he ashamed walking up to the king with nothing? Insecure or afraid he would be found lacking? Even if he was the richest person in the world, what gifts of use or importance could anyone possibly give to a king?

 I too am poor. Not so much materially, but spiritually, emotionally, personally. What gifts do I possibly have to give a king? THE King? Should I even bother approaching? Am I worthy? Am I welcome? Will I be found lacking?

 Off he goes with the rest of his community to meet this newborn king. And as his time comes to go up to bestow gifts, all he can present is himself. In his poverty. In his nothing-ness. Just himself and the only thing he has--his drum. And so he plays. Maybe not well—he is a little boy. Being poor, I presume the drum is beat up and ragged. But despite the challenges facing him, the ways in which he is lacking, the little boy plays. And the song tells us he plays the best he possibly can for this little baby king, hoping to do him justice with the little he has to offer.

 Isn’t this the reality for all of us as we approach the newborn King at Christmas? Walking up in humble confidence knowing we have nothing to give, except for our very selves. Knowing we too are poor compared to Him. Wanting to do Him justice with the little that we have to give. Approaching Him nonetheless; striving to do our best, to “play” our best for Him regardless. To give the best of what we have, the best of what we are, little though it might be. Just ourselves. In all our flaws and failures and nothing-ness.

 And how does He respond?

 “Then he smiled at me, par-rum-pum-pum-pum.”

 It is enough. It is more than enough. You alone are enough. Jesus delights in the song of the little drummer boy, likely far more than He delighted in the gifts of the Magi. The point of the gifts, according to the song, is to honor the King. And what honors our King more than the gift of our self? Our heart and mind and life and very being, presented to Him as a gift of love. What need has a king for fancy gifts? What He wants is us! To love us. To have a relationship with us. Poor, humble, and playing our best on the beaten up drum of life. He sees us standing before Him. And He smiles with delight.