Diet of Perserverance: Part Two

A week ago, I wrote a post about what students in my class chose to eat. The idea is that we, as Christians, often love the foundations of the faith but never really want to struggle any further, gain any more depth, etc.

As I have reflected on these thoughts, two stories have come to my attention. The first story was from the "Parchment and Pen" blog. It told the story of a group of people in a town of apathy hearing that there was going to be a big race, with lots of prizes for all those who chose to run. Most people didn't believe there would be a race, but a good number decided to go and run. Some people trained hard, some didn't, some just showed up out of curiosity. When the race began, people acted very strange. Many would cross the starting line, turn and celebrate the fact that they were racing! Then they stopped and encouraged all the bystanders to come cross the starting line as well. They would celebrate, and then stand in circles talking about how great it was to start the race. But obviously, they were missing something.

The other story that caught my attention is much older, it is by St. John of the Cross, called The Dark Night of the Soul. This classic considers what happens when God chooses to move us into a deeper walk with him, often by trying to get us to focus on Him rather than the pleasures and blessings He brings. For St. John, spiritual activity that is motivated by the feelings of comfort, consolation, and pleasure it provides is very immature. Instead, it is through facing the dryness and the difficulty that we walk closer to God.

And of course, that is Biblical as well. James, the book I treacherously traverse each spring with my 8th graders, begins with an admonition to take on an attitude of joy in the face of many trials. The reason why? Trials develop perseverance. In other words, there are reasons to face the dark, dry and difficult things of the world... they help you develop, instead of just stand at the starting line.

My students, I often wonder if they wish to develop. They avoid difficulty like they avoided the nuts and the cibiatta bread I offered them. It's funny, the nuts signified difficulty and the cibiatta bread was a symbol of sacrifice. Not the most enjoyable things, but things that lead to maturation.

Which brings me to me. I spend a lot of time during difficulties and dry nights trying to figure out how to get out of them with the least amount of pain possible. What does that escapism develop? Nothing most likely. When I don't know what to plan for church on a Sunday morning, I take thirty minutes and figure that whatever I come up with will be good enough. When I can't hear from God, I don't still myself more and listen more intently, I immediately take up my same old complaint chorus.

So maybe I am like my students, always grabbing the M&Ms and pushing aside dry nuts. I need more of a diet of perseverance, one that faces all the hards and softs of life, the sweet and the bitter. Perhaps then I might be "mature and complete, not lacking anything."