A Reflection for Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Lent
Find today’s readings here.
"I cannot do anything on my own;
I judge as I hear, and my judgment is just,
because I do not seek my own will
but the will of the one who sent me." (John 5:17-30)
Have you ever suffered from listlessness?
I’m sure you have. Everyone has, at some point, faced a period in their life where they have no idea what to do next. When you’re young, you have a sense of constant forward momentum: Finish school, get into a good college, find a job. At some point, though, you may run into a situation where you no longer have much more to strive for. Perhaps you did all those things already and have suddenly found yourself feeling rudderless, floating in still waters when the maelstrom of life previously gave you more of a sense of direction.
This can be disconcerting. Ennui is not a problem with a reliable fix, as “everything is going alright” is rarely something that needs to be immediately addressed. It is an issue not of the mind nor of the body, but of the spirit. And, when placed in that context, we may begin to diagnose and repair what ails a listless person.
Spiritual malnourishment can just as easily lead to sadness as any tragedy. In this day and age, we serve many masters: our temporal masters in government, our digital masters on social media, our laborious masters at our jobs, even our hobbies may demand of us time and attention. We owe many allegiances, often split and sometimes contradictory, to various elements of our material world. But rarely do we give that much attention to our spiritual master, God himself, without whom we may suffer from this unease.
In today’s Gospel from John, Jesus addresses a rowdy crowd, many of whom are offended that he speaks so closely of God, whom he refers to as “Father.” He placates them, saying, “Amen, amen, I say to you, the Son cannot do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing; for what he does, the Son will do also. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything that he himself does, and he will show him greater works than these, so that you may be amazed.”
What better model is there for Christian duty than this? Jesus essentially says that if you open yourself up to God, you will receive your sacred duty, the same sacred duty that will fill the void of emptiness that so often crops up when we focus entirely on the material and the temporary. God, in his infinite love, provides all that the modern world lacks: compassion, empathy, kindness. The good work that God calls us to do is modeled, as Jesus says, by the Son: healing the sick, visiting the imprisoned, being charitable to the poor. It is all very basic stuff, but we are often so littered with distractions that we forget how simple it is to be Christlike.
The next time that you find yourself in the middle of a workday staring at a mountain of work, asking yourself, “What is even the point of this?,” I would urge you to take that as an opportunity to reassess your situation. Ask yourself instead, “In what way is this work furthering my closeness and relationship with God? How is this a fulfillment of my Christian duty? Am I doing this for myself or for the betterment of others?” Again, these are simple questions, but there has never been anything wrong with the fundamentals.
