I have been reading a book by Liz Forkin Bohannon entitled “Beginner’s Pluck” – not “luck” but “pluck” with a “p”. The author has some good insights and she is not afraid to take on some sacred cows in our times and culture. One of these sacred cows is the myth of “finding your passion” in life and she addresses this in a chapter aptly entitled, “Stop Trying to ‘Find Your Passion’”.
Her point is that passion is not found but built. Here I want to share a quote from her book,
The critical difference is this: when you set out to “find” something, it requires that you know what you’re looking for. When we believe in the notion that we will eventually “find” our purpose and passion, we bide our time, living only half alive and gripped by fear. We look to others who have already “found it,” and we get jealous, overwhelmed, and confused when we try to run someone else’s race because we want to end up where they are.
We cling to the narrative of “finding” because it is self-soothing and gives us permission to be passive, and we fall asleep to the world and to the work that is right in front of us.
We can blame our lack of direction and purpose on The Universe and Other Vague External Factors instead of taking responsibility for our own lives and moving forward with courage and intentionality.
When we believe our passion and purpose is waiting to be found, we wait instead of create.
The mentality around creating and building is much different than finding or discovering. Have you ever heard an author describe the process of writing the novel without knowing how the story ends? They don’t talk about the moment when they finally found the perfect last sentence which then gave them permission to start writing. They talk about how each day, they sit down with an openness to where the narrative will go, and they know they must write it into existence. In the end, they sit back and marvel not at their discovery, but at their creation.
Your passion isn’t found in your dreaming. It’s made by your doing.
Here is the connection to this Sunday’s readings. In today’s gospel (Mt. 5:13-16) our Lord says, “You are the salt of the earth … You are the light of the world.” This is not meant to be a nice description we can pat ourselves on the back for. “Hey, look at what the Son of God said we are!” It is not that. It is a task to be lived. How do we recognize it is a task to be lived? Because immediately our Lord then goes on to caution that salt can lose its taste and a light can be hidden.
This understanding is backed up in the first reading from Isaiah (Is. 58:7-10). “Thus says the Lord: Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them, and do not turn your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn…” These are all “doing” words, active verbs. They are not passive.
“Salt of the earth” and “Light of the world” are not meant to be nice little descriptions that the Christian can sit comfortably and passively within. They are a task we are given by our Lord himself – tasks to which we will have to give an accounting of.
I like Bohannon’s writing because she is quite honest and she is not afraid to even call herself out. The business she created helps women and girls in impoverished areas around the world but she admits she was not “born” with this passion, rather it grew over time as she made choices, as she investigated and explored things. This is how it really happens. The “Find your Passion” myth often cripples us because it seems so big and daunting from the outset that we just become stuck and not sure what to do. “Forget all that,” says the author and she offers some sound advice from her own life to get beyond that hurdle. “What are you interested in? What intrigues you?” Do the work of exploring that and then see where you go. Both our passion and our purpose our built – not found.
God provides his grace but God does not overwhelm our wills. God wants us to play our part in the equation. We are not meant to be passive bystanders to our lives and our time in this world. This is not what our Lord means when he says we are salt and light. By saying salt and light, our Lord has given us a task that we are each meant to live and to do.
I am a fan of the work and the writings of Wendell Berry. Here, I would like to share #7 from his “Window Poems”.
One thing that the Scriptures do not shy away from presenting is tragedy. We like tragedy when it is on the screen or in a play but not so much in our lives. This is partly why we invest in IRA’s. Yet, tragedy is a part of life (Sacred Scripture knows this) and no one gets through this life without experiencing tragedy in one form or another.
The longest pedestrian suspension bridge in North America is set to open later this month in our own Gatlinburg, TN. The bridge stretches nearly 700 ft. and is suspended 150 feet high. Apparently, it has glass panels as flooring in the middle of the expanse. I’ve been hearing people talk about it and have been seeing things on the news about it. Would you walk across it?
In a recent interview on the life of faith and discipleship, Pope Francis shared an expression often used in Argentina – the expression is “primerea”. “…the Lord ‘primerea,’ anticipates us, waits for us; we sin and He is waiting to forgive us. He is waiting to welcome us, to give us His love, and each time faith grows.”
What was our Lord writing on the ground with his finger? No one really knows but it is an interesting addition that the gospel writer makes to this narrative and it does lead one to wonder. What was he tracing on the ground?
“What does discipleship look like?’’ This was a question we were asked again and again in theology studies. What does it look like? How do disciples act in the world? How does one show that he or she is a follower of Christ?
Living in our social media age has led me to ask the following questions in light of today’s gospel (Mk. 6:1-6). “If Jesus were alive today would he be on Facebook?” “If he were on Facebook, what would he post?” “How would we react to his posts? Would we like them, would we unlike them, would we unfollow him, would we perhaps even defriend him?”
I recently read a daily reflection that made the following point: “Just as nature abhors a vacuum, Jesus abhors vagueness.” In one sense it is easy to speak in generalities and vagueness in regards to faith and God. “Yes, I love God. I love all people. I want to help and serve everyone. I want peace for the whole world.” It is easy to say these things in the general sense but how do we live in the particular moment? Can I show love to the person I don’t like or understand? Can I be patient in a chaotic moment of family life? Can I take time to pray even though the demands of the day seem unceasing? Can I choose hope even in a time of pain and loss? Can I seek justice in moments of injustice? Can I turn the other cheek even when I am wronged? It is not in speaking nice generalities but rather in the choices of particular moments that the Kingdom of God is found.
Nicodemus is an interesting figure in the gospel. He is a devout man and someone who is intrigued by Jesus. Nicodemus believes the Jesus is a teacher of God and that the signs which Jesus does prove that God is with him yet Nicodemus wants to fit Jesus into his own paradigm, into his own narrative about how God should act. Before the passage we just heard we are told that Nicodemus comes to Jesus, “by night”. Nicodemus is attracted to Jesus but he is still in the darkness of his own presumptions. How often we are like Nicodemus. How often we know people like Nicodemus.