Memnoch

The human experience is one of constant, repetitive conflict.

I know my future children may resent me for the mistakes I make as a father, as other children have resented their parents in the past. I can be at peace with that. I know my future wife may be unfaithful to me, as other wives have been unfaithful in the past. I can be at peace with that. And certainly, I know that my life will amount to less than I’d intended, just as so many of us, generation to generation, wish we’d done this or that, or gone here or there. And I can be at peace with that.

Human conflict, between us and in us, never ceases. And you know what? I can be at peace with that.

How can I be at peace with the possibility of mediocrity? How can I be at peace with the likelihood of inconsistency? How can I be at peace with the inevitability of repeated and painful failure?

The Book of Ecclesiastes says that God has set eternity in our hearts. God has allowed our turmoil. I am at peace with these things – failure, temptation, sin - because I oppose them. I strive for the love of Christ, for the holiness of the Almighty. In response to the eternity He has set in our hearts, God also gives us, according to Ecclesiastes, the means to a life worthy of His name: be happy, and do good.

I will put every effort into loving and disciplining, teaching and enjoying my children. I will fight, tooth and nail, that inevitable discovery by my children that I am, indeed, only human. I will put every effort into respecting and caring for my wife. I will fight, tooth and nail, those inevitable shortcomings I will have as a husband that may drive her away. I will put every effort into accomplishing the tasks that God puts in front of me. I will fight, tooth and nail, the inevitable temptation of Satan’s fear and apathy and the death that he offers.

I have made peace with conflict, because I choose to make peace with God. I am a servant of God.

What does it mean to make peace with God? It’s not enough to call some sort of cease-fire with God. We are either for or against God – there is no middle ground. He who does not gather for the Lord, scatters. Peace with the Lord only comes from standing with Him. There is no peace in hiding, there is no peace in feigned neutrality – what king desires cowards in his court?

God spoke through the prophet Isaiah, saying that, like cowards, His people have abandoned Him. We neglect our call to walk in the Spirit. God says that we have not only abandoned Him, but that we have robbed Him!

Robbed Him of the tithes that we are called to give back to His Church, which is the Body of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We have robbed Him of the respect - the fear - of His righteousness and holiness. We have robbed Him of joy and thanksgiving for His grace, without which there is no life. We have robbed Him of the time, honor, effort, song, praise and exultation that are His, and His alone. Worst of all, we’ve robbed Him of love. We love our sins, rather than His grace. We love our grudges instead of our neighbors.

In all of this, we are spitting on Jesus Christ, who died that we might be saved. In our distance, in our rebellion, in our apathy. We make a mockery of the sacrifice that Christ makes for us.

And the miracle is that, still, Christ’s love is there for us to take of. Still, His grace shines upon us. Still, He blesses us for the tiniest effort towards holiness. Still, He allows us another chance.

In our apathy, He inspires us. In our rebellion, He comforts us. In our distance, He searches for us.

We can’t stagnate. Spiritual apathy is death. When do we stop thinking about what God has or hasn’t done for us? When do we take responsibility for what we have or haven’t tried to do for God?

Human conflict is a constant, because God is the constant. We’re always fighting. We fight God, we fight Satan, we fight ourselves.

Sometimes, we just give up. Sometimes we lose sight of the promised land. Sometimes we give in to the heart of temptation. And so we wait for God to save the day. We wait for God to save us from ourselves. And we get angry with Him when He tells us that we are our own responsibility.

I once heard someone say, “Who you are is God’s gift to you. Who you become is your gift to God.”

In the Gospel, Christ tells the parable of the talents. A master and his three servants. The master is leaving, and he gives his servants some money to invest: to the first he gives ten talents, to the second he gives five talents, and to the third he gives two talents. The first two go and invest their money, so that they can please the master with their profits. The third simply stashes his away, bringing no gain to the master, for fear that he might not please the master by investing poorly. Who do you think the master was pleased with? Who took responsibility for the talents he was given?

A talent in Jesus’ day was money, but I think that the modern definition of a talent, a positive personality trait, works here, too. God has given us talents. Some of us have ten, some five, some only two. We must remember that God has formed us with a purpose, and has given us the responsibility of investing the talents He gave us, that we might show Him the fruit of our labors in Him.

What are we doing with our talents? Who are we becoming? What kind of gift do we want to give to God? What kind of gift can we give to God?

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Doing my best not to end up like Kathleen Chang.