The Abstraction Kafuffle

Do you ever go through a thing where you start questioning basic operating principles in your life? I have been in one such kafuffle of late. I've been wrestling with how Communion and Liberation uses the word "abstraction," which I have come to understand to be somewhat like an idol; a lifeless thing that one props up and attempts to derive life's meaning from. This could even be something that seems very holy, like "being a Christian". It's something that I control, something of which I am the creator, the animator. Something that is quite apart from what the living God does, has done, is doing, in our midst.

But being a person much attracted to ruminating, I have always cozied up to the word abstraction as a wonderful expression of... me.

So this thing was all set up, ready for me to make a kafuffle of it. (That word is actually in the dictionary, by the way.)

But one thing that I have taken from this thought-tangle is a heightened awareness of God as a Person. A Reality. Most Definitely Not an Abstraction. And myself as someone created with no other basic reason but being in relationship with this Reality. It is amazing all over again. I remember when I first realized or experienced that God was this, and not a figure like Abraham Lincoln, who was real, and alive in a way, but related to me only by certain ideas or circumstances, like being an American. I was 19.

So today I went to Mass. I was intent as I sat down to hear the readings. My heart was open to this real God for whom I am made. And this is what I heard

The Lord GOD said to me:
As for you, son of man, obey me when I speak to you:
be not rebellious like this house of rebellion,
but open your mouth and eat what I shall give you.

It was then I saw a hand stretched out to me,
in which was a written scroll which he unrolled before me.
It was covered with writing front and back,
and written on it was:
Lamentation and wailing and woe!

He said to me: Son of man, eat what is before you;
eat this scroll, then go, speak to the house of Israel.
So I opened my mouth and he gave me the scroll to eat.
Son of man, he then said to me,
feed your belly and fill your stomach
with this scroll I am giving you.
I ate it, and it was as sweet as honey in my mouth.
He said: Son of man, go now to the house of Israel,
and speak my words to them. (Ez. 2:8--3:4)

Now, if you had the experience of being me, you would immediately pick up on a theme that has recurred throughout my life, from childhood. In fact, I even blogged about this passage last year. I have such a history of fretting over my spoken words and my mouth. And God has such a history of commanding me to be who I am, who He has made me. And the only way I know who I am? "Obey me when I speak to you." Words do not do justice here, but this command to obedience strikes me as invitation to sheer liberty. It is God's command for me to live free from all the garbage that drags me away. And yet it is stern. God is far more serious about my beatitude, my happiness, than I am. (Thank you, my Lord.)

That scroll that God bids me eat changes me, and forms me in the way God desires. It used to scandalize me that the Catholic Church embraced different religious orders. I viewed the world as a contest between right and wrong, so I didn't see how you could accept that Franciscans, Dominicans, Jesuits, et al, could all be "right" if they were different. I didn't get the idea that God likes variety, and that good minds and lives can actually differ without one being right and the other being wrong, or truth being relative. God would not command us to take courage if we had no need for it. But if we adhere to the Lord we risk (gasp) becoming different from others, and standing out. So be it, if that is our call! So be it, Amen, Hallelujah.

The gospel also reminds me to respect the heart and life of each unique child, and reminds me that children simply are who they are; they don't ponder who they are, or restrain who they are (unless/until they learn to). They just are. I can get lost, but God is constantly about calling my name. My name -- which He knows, and gives.