Well, no, that's not quite true. Half I learned by singing, and half I learned by writing. Singing means living, and writing means relating with God, myself and others. There. Everything covered.
Seriously though. While I was cantoring for the Mass on January 1, the feast of Mary, Mother of God, I had one of those "word of the year" moments. There are a lot of these "word of the year" memes that go around social media. It never, ever works for me to choose a word of the year to work on or be mindful of, because I think I'm just not built that way. So, what I'm about to say might sound quite contradictory. I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself."
This word of the year (or month, or season, or whatever -- the future I do not tell) seemed more to spring out of my spirit into my consciousness, fully formed, clearing its throat, asking for attention. I am not choosing this; I am acknowledging it.
Wholeheartedness. I need to choose it daily.
This came about because of the dratted microphone at the cantor's ambo at my church. For some time, there has been a debate and kerfluffle, mostly in my own head, about the use of this microphone. The director had stated that the cantors were not to use it any longer to lead the congregation, except in certain circumstances, and those eventually became somewhat non-defined. At first I had a viscerlly negative reaction to this, mostly because I felt strongly that cantors should lead. The counter claim was that our parish actually sings decently, and it is not necessary, and perhaps even a distraction, to have a cantor in front, bellowing a familiar hymn into a microphone.
So things went. And partly my various concerns remained, and partly I appreciated not having to sing into the mic all the time for various reasons. But what remained in me, like an old sock that didn't hit the laundry, was a new sense of ambivalence and uncertainty of what was best. It shouldn't be that big of a deal, right? But so things went.
So I stood at the mic on January 1, singing the Gloria, because my written directive clearly stated "cantor intones Gloria." I am built to follow the directives I am given, which is another issue when I have ambivalent socks hanging about.
I was singing, but I was thinking about how close I was to the mic, how loudly I was singing, and whether I was helping or hindering. And then I did it. I lost my place, and I sang the wrong words. (And others followed my lead, including the priest!)
By the end of that Mass, I realized my struggle was with wholeheartedness. Not just with this mic detail, but in general. Worshipping God (i.e., living; singing if you will) is a response of an undivided heart, or it needs to be. That is the path I pursue, and it is the path that leads me surely. And I wasn't on it. Thinking about this, that, him, her -- which all boils down to thinking about ME -- is a huge distraction from worship.
There is thinking about me that needs to happen, and it is the thought that says, "Lord, I deposit myself 100% in you, in whom I live and move and have my being." And then I need to live from there. But you know what? There comes that moment when living from there hits a cross road with something outside me that requires a response from me that I wasn't planning on. Living from 100% deposit in God means I'm not in control mode. I'm in response mode. I'm in take courage mode. Otherwise, my heart and mind are divided.
Today as this continued to resonate with me, this passage from James 1 came to mind:
Count it all joy, my brethren, when you meet various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives to all men generously and without reproaching, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways, will receive anything from the Lord (1:2-8)
I asked, faith in what? What is it we are not supposed to doubt? I've heard people use this passage for all sorts of weirdness, like the pastor who got dressed in a suit to walk on his swimming pool because he was asking in faith for the ability to follow Christ like Peter, and he was "without doubt" it would happen.
I don't think this is it at all. As 1 John 4:16 puts it, we are to believe in the love God has for us.
See, for a long time, I think I thought that to be wholehearted, gung ho, all in, had to mean I was sure of myself, I was right. I knew what was real and true; it was my possession. Or, I had to be sure of another person, sure of our relationship, our friendship. I could grasp something solid in my hand, and then I could be wholehearted. But this is all self. It's all pride. At best it comes forth as well-intentioned arrogance, and at worst it sets oneself up for a depressing and crushing fall. Or perhaps, really, at worst it creates a dull, chronic atmosphere of meh. Indifference. Staleness. Meh.
To be sure of the love God has for us is a completely different thing that being sure of myself. In fact, I think the only way we can get sure of God's love for us is to embrace how flawed we are, how needy we are, how unjust we are, and how incredibly gratuitous God's love is. The more deeply I see my schnee, the more blown away I am at God's desire to embrace me. When I know that it is precisely like this, needy and weak and mercy-pleading, that God loves me like mad, the more my whole heart is free. I'm love. What else do I need?
When I know I'm loved by Him, my little bitty wobbly heart is going to respond with a resounding "yee-haw"! That's worship. It's an on-going conversation, so it's going to purify me. It's going to refine me. It's going to change me. It's going to reveal stuff that will need to go into His love, and sometimes that process is going to hurt. Sometimes it's going to burn like hell. But it is all about moving in faith, faith that I am loved because God is love. It is faith in Love.
This Love is the only source of courage, of living response-ably with God and people.
This is a key discernment question for me: what is tripping me up in wholeheartedness? What needs to be addressed? What am I afraid of? What is the next step onward? And the need is always to soak deeply in God's love, and then respond from that to the reality around me.
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