To be given

 And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness for forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him. Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’  (Mark 1:12-15)

The kingdom appears to make right all that is not right with the world. It is the ultimate good, God battling the enemy of all that is true and decent, kind and caring, a battle of life with death.

But I wonder if post-modern ears are capable of hearing let alone grasping the notion of ‘ultimate good.’ Can we believe anything is ‘ultimate’ or fully give ourselves to anything beyond us?

It’s impossible to surrender yourself to anything that transcends you if you do not really believe there is something transcendent—something more important, more valuable, more critical and central to existence than your comfort and personal outcomes.

Yet even in our self-referential times, there remains something in us that recognizes the magnificence of people who shine like the sun because they refuse to count the cost or cut their conscience, people who give themselves away for a great love for something or someone they deem more important that themselves.

Seeing such souls, hearing their stories we might feel pangs of shame, unless our consciences have completely calcified. For we recognize that to be given away for the sake of love is our natural destiny, written so deeply in our hearts we cannot remove it, a destiny we know we have not fulfilled or only in the rarest of moments that make us smile in memory of their sweetness.

And this is what Jesus is saying, deep within, telling us the ultimate good, the kingdom of God making things right, is appearing. It’s in him, in you, in the world around you, in people you meet every day.

See it. Feel it. Let it move you until you say ‘yes’ to whatever desire arises to surrender yourself in love to some need you notice in your corner of God’s vineyard.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I heard long ago. At 68, I’ve lived long enough to remember too many good intentions, too many moments when a word or act of love stuck in my throat or wasn’t followed up upon. These moments haunt, and I pray for those who were deprived whatever small kindness or grace I failed to share, even as I hear the call to be given, totally, to the Love who gives himself totally for me.

Pr. David L. Miller