Heat

I have a passion, a fire.  My temperament is this way.  I control it well and don't lose my temper often, but I am excitable and quickly heat up about things, good and bad.  I have a hard time letting an injustice go unaddressed.

I have in the past been quite angry...not in the uncontrolled anger management sense, but in the seething beneath the surface, fiery oratory sort of sense.  I have been called a match: quick to fire up at the least abrasion, but short lived and relatively harmless.  I would quickly pop off on people.  Tell them what I thought.  Call them out.  Politely, but directly.  In nicer times, I could frame it as a joke and lay some low with pointed humor that accomplished the same thing as the angry version, but with less direct confrontation.  It has served me well and I took it as a gift.

Of course any gift can be perverted, and so I took my tendency to pop off or become quickly agitated.  I even thought this heat inside was to be used to call crusade for good.  To call out injustice and wrongness.  I wouldn't stand for it and everyone needed to know that they couldn't get away with that junk around me because I'd call it right out in front of everyone.

But lately, I've begun to wonder if this is not such a gift.  I'm not sure.  Really.  I have just begun to see that maybe there is virtue in quietly handling the wrongs, perhaps even letting people go their own way.  Perhaps not always...there may well be a time to stand up and call it out.  But maybe there is a time for noticing without mentioning.

Previously I viewed this as tolerating what shouldn't be tolerated.  As a disservice to the one I refrained from speaking to.  After all, Truth must shine forth, and we have a duty and calling to hack away at the darkness.

Don't get me wrong, I've never attacked people like many legalists do.  My crusades are about grace and forgiveness.  But fuelled with a blazing angry passion.

The thing is, it's really hard to win.  I took this as confirmation that the world was corrupt.  As in the Mission, I was DeNiro's reformed conquistador, ready to shed blood, even my own in defense of what was right.  I'd rather stand up and take a blow to the face for speaking out than sit by and let a wrong go.  It was not my job to win...just to fight.

But now, I'm seeing a lovely grace, an almost asian-master sort of goodness, in letting things flow.  Perhaps speaking boldly out is not always the way to go.  Perhaps there is collateral damage that could be spared.  Perhaps there is something to a more pacific attitude.  Perhaps this is not over-tolerance, a moopy spine.  Certainly it could be, just as my passion could be perverted to plain anger and hate.  But maybe this is a time for me to learn how to be meek in the truest sense.

Jesus did speak boldly.  He did enrage and agitate and even physically overturn.  But he also nurtured and helped and loved in a soft and tender way.

Perhaps the Greystokian animalistic nobility, the chivalric gentle warrior, is not God's ideal.  Perhaps it is far less inspiring.  Far more suffering (in the old sense).  Far more humble (in the old sense of lowly).

Please teach me the answer, Jesus.  What am I to learn from you in this yoke?  Help me to be pliable and open to you.  I fear I will lose my strength, my identity, and I don't know how else to be.  But I must lose mine to gain yours and I will be what you make me.

Holiness

It's been a while since I've posted anything.  After my last upheaval, which is not yet resolved by the way, there has been a lull.  A peace.  Not that I've been perfectly content or that things have stopped forming in me, but that I have been resting somewhat.  My mind has been given a break.  And since this blog is really a way for me to process my own journey, there hasn't been much to tell.

But one thing that has marked this time has been a desire for holiness.  A set-apart-ness.  This folds in righteousness, goodness, and all other virtues.  But mostly it has been a soft glowing desire for true holiness.  Like an old fire embering and pushing out the best kind of heat and a soft pulsing glow.  And it is old in me, ready to consume new dross and to blaze in the world on good fuel.  But not right now. 

Now is a stoking I think.  Long-tolerated sins are becoming known to me.  Strong sinewy flaws deep in my being are exposed.  I am examining the flex and stretch of the fibers; how they move and where they connect.

I am returning to basic disciplines, which are so easily overstepped, remembering old lessons and heroes, mentors, models.  This is more than a little fuelled by the election of a new pope...a Jesuit who chose the name Francis...the first, no less.  The first from the New World...the far west.  A man of the people who is admirably humble.

While I am not Catholic for several reasons, I have great respect for them as the preservers of our Christian history.  The ones to whom it has been entrusted.  The root institution from which all our other reformed, protestant, revertist, evangelical, charismatic, and every other type are intimately tied.  While the branches and changes have often been necessary and the Catholic church has been guilty of gross errors and injustices, are we not all guilty and all forgiven?  I personally can't disrespect them simply because my teachers and mentors have many been of or close to this denomination and this denomination has preserved their teaching so that I can learn from them even though centuries stand between us.

In that, I have respected Jesuits for their practicality and justice.  For their mission to the world's end even in deadly and unknown times and places.  And for their prayer through action.  At one time I considered becoming as closely aligned with them as I could as a non Catholic.

Then there is Francis.  One of my teachers and a heart which I greatly identify with and aspire to.  He has inspired me so much so that many life decisions were the direct result of following his ways applied in my life.

And this pope embodies them both.  And to top it all, a thing I will never forget, him humbly bowing before the world and asking for prayer.  This cemented in my mind that this is who I want to be.  Let all else fall off if my life can exude this humilty.

God, may it mark a permanent change in me.  Away with the course, brash, dirty, mean parts of me.  Let the peace and gentleness you instill in my deepest heart radiate through my mind, body, mouth, and into my life.