I feel I must begin this post by acknowledging the obvious, that it was not published as scheduled on Wednesday. I have struggled with my words the last few weeks, until finally, inevitably, they failed to arrive on time. But why should I have expected them to? They aren't really my words, after all. They belong to something greater.
Because it's not about me.
I say this to my wife when she asks where I want all this writing to go. It's not about what I want. The end goal is God's not mine, and they haven't exactly given me a ten-point plan. Is that frustrating, bewildering? Sure. But say no to my Creator? Never.
Because it's not about me.
I heard this from Pope Benedict in his decision to resign his office. How many people would give up the kind of power, position, and prestige that he has? And yet he does so willingly, perhaps even joyfully, because it's about the Church, not him, and not just the Church institutional, but the People of God, us. More to the point, it's about what God desires for us, their family, not the plans or dreams of one member of that family. And so our brother Joseph was wise enough to hear God's will in this matter, humble enough to accept that will, and brave enough to live it.
Because it's really all about God's will.
We see this every time we look upon a crucifix. It is God's will in all its frustrating and bewildering glory. It makes no sense, until we get to Easter morning, and we have a glimpse, a taste, of the overwhelming beauty that is Love.
And so another Lent has begun. Forty days to prepare for our glimpse, our taste, of something wonderful. Forty days to discern God's will for us, for you, for me. Forty days to dwell in the most sublime mystery. It's really my favorite time of the year.