A good friend of mine, who happens to be a Roman Catholic priest, has been writing a weekly newspaper column for something like 30 years.
But before I turn to Ron's column I need to lead up to it a little:
Our admissions of personal powerlessness finally turn out to be firm bedrock upon which happy and purposeful lives may be built. (Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p.21)
Central to this spiritual truth is the ultimate power of powerlessness.
There are different kinds of power and different kinds of authority. There is military power, muscle power, political power, economic power, moral power, charismatic power, and psychological power, among other things. There are different kinds of authority too: We can be bitterly forced into acquiescing to certain demands or we can be gently persuaded into accepting them. Power and authority are not all of a kind...
In Greek, the original language of the [Christian] Gospels, we find three words for power or authority. We easily recognise the first two: energy and dynamic. There is a power in energy, in physical health and muscle, just as there is a power in being dynamic, in dynamite, in having the power to generate energy; but when the Gospels speak of Jesus as "having great power" and as having a power beyond that of other religious figures, they do not use the words energetic or dynamic. They use a third word, EXOUSIA, which might be best rendered as VULNERABILITY. Jesus' real power was rooted in a certain vulnerability, like the powerlessness of a child.
This isn't an easy concept to grasp since our idea of power is normally rooted in the opposite, namely, the notion that power lies in the ability to overwhelm, not underwhelm, others. And yet we understand this, at least somewhat, in our experience of babies, who can overpower us precisely by their powerlessness. Around a baby, as most every mother and father has learned, we not only watch our language and try not to have bitter arguments; we also try to be better, more loving persons. Metaphorically, a baby has the power to do an exorcism. It can cast out the demons of self-absorption and selfishness in us. That's why Jesus could cast out certain demons that others could not.
And that's how God's power forever lies within our world and within our lives, asking for our patience. Christ, as Annie Dillard says, is always found in our lives just as he was originally found, a [powerless] baby in the straw who must be picked up and nurtured into maturity ... [but] we are impatient with quiet, moral power that demands infinite patience and a long-term perspective. Like the Israelites facing the Philistines, we are reluctant to send a shepherd boy against an iron-clad giant. We want divine power in iron, muscles, guns, and charisma.
But that's not the way intimacy, peace, and God are found.
When was the last time you experienced God, or heard God talked about as the most vulnerable?
Spiritual truth also includes striving to take personal responsibility, to be honest - with self and others, and to be forgiving - of self and others. If a person strives to live these values, one must become vulnerable - with self and others. That is, if better relationships and intimacy with those one chooses are one's goals.
Again, we touch the paradox - it is a spiritual reality that must be experienced more than grasped as a concept: real power lies in a person's willingness and ability to be vulnerable with others. To become vulnerable, and so be more powerful, one must develop the skills of self-remembering and sustained attention, so that defences, masks and other fear-based behaviours can be laid aside.
By the way, in case referring to God is putting you off, let me say this:
Ron Rolheiser OMI |
You can check out everything you need to know about the thought and the heart of Ron Rolheiser (including the column I've referred to) at www.ronrolheiser.com
No comments:
Post a Comment