When Attitude is Everything
As we enjoy the very last drop of
Christmas today with the end of the feast of the Encounter of the Lord—Stritenya—we
are also in the warm-up period for the Great Lent. The two are very much
connected by delicate stands we might miss, like the thin cord on which the
pearls are strung.
First, look at the icon of the Infant
Jesus being held by Simeon the old man and Anna the prophetess. The Gospels
make a point of calling Simeon “the old man.” St. Paul will use this same
idiom in describing Adam in comparison to Jesus, the new man from heaven.
Let’s remember that when God created Adam and Eve he told them to increase
and multiply. The ancient theologians said this did not mean simply raising
a big family, but that they themselves were to grow. Notice how in the
stories of Jesus being presented in the Temple, and then being found in the
Temple as an adolescent, the Gospels make a point of saying “he grew in
wisdom and stature before God and Man”? We are created with a great
potential to become something more than we were by our conception. In
creating Adam & Eve God had put their future development in their own hands:
they would complete their own development and thus become more like God who
is completely self-existing.
Second, as the ancient father Origen
pointed out (and you can read this for yourself in your Bible), God decided
to create Adam in his image and likeness, but, in fact, created him only in
his image. Humanity was to acquire the likeness for itself. And what is
this “likeness”? It is the attitude of God, as Saint Paul says in his
letter to the Philippians (2;5), “You must have the attitude of Christ
Jesus.” And here is where the two stories we heard last Sunday and this
come into play. They are both stories about attitude. Last Sunday it was
the well-behaved Pharisee’s nasty attitude compared with the despised
publican’s attitude. A little bit of humility is worth more than a mountain
of accomplishment. And today we see the same motif: the hard-hearted older
brother compared with the despicable behavior of the younger brother. But
in today’s story there is another element. Did you notice what the Father
says to the older brother? “Son, everything I have is yours.” But the son,
out of his anger and resentment, is refusing to enter the house. He heard
the music from a distance, but to spite his father and brother he is
refusing to come any closer and so he refuses to eat any of the wonderful
food. The story ends without us knowing if the older brother changed his
mind and went in and had a good time, or whether he just sat outside all
night and sulked, or even walked away in anger. And that, beloved, is
precisely the question before you and me as we come to Lent.
Third, we can easily count the number
of rules we have broken, but we have a much more difficult time assessing
the quality of our attitudes. Sometimes we think well of attitudes we
should be ashamed of, and sometimes we are ashamed to let our better
attitudes show. When we realize that, we understand something that so many
people misunderstand: little things may have tremendous consequences. The
key for your car is a small and inert thing, but lose it and you don’t move.
Now the Church tells us that a certain—and trust me, a very minimal—amount
of fasting is absolutely required of us, so much so that to willfully break
that rule is considered a serious sin Some seventeen year old student
knowingly takes a bite of pizza on the first day Lent, shrugging it off as
“no big deal.” But one bite of the apple in Eden was no big deal either,
right? Send a kid to hell for a bite of food? That’s crazy; or is it?
What the Church does in setting up these disciplinary acts of worship—and
fasting is an act of worship—is to make us confront our attitudes. When we
are in really great joy, or very deep sorrow, we usually forget to eat, we
fast. Some athlete, like a runner really intent on meeting the weight
requirement, will starve before the weigh-in, and do it with zeal Most of
us pack on the pounds when we are bored or when we are relaxing. Underlying
a violation of our common fasting one might find a lack of faith—no small
problem, that—or laziness, or even pride (no one is gong to tell me what to
do), and so on. Lent is a time for beginners to count their violations of
the rules, but a time for adult Christians to assess their attitudes.
Instead of confessing, “I was unkind three times,” perhaps we should be
confessing “I put down people who don’t make me feel important.” Quite a
difference.
Therefore, we devout, respectable and
good Christians have been called in from the field. Our heavenly Father
expects us to come in and, not only be happy for his mercy and generosity to
all those sinners who have had such a good time being prodigals, but to take
part in their welcome-home party, to enjoy the banquet he has prepared for
them! We are standing outside the house called Lent. Will we enter?