If we are willing, God will make us ready

It’s been a bit of a dry spell on this blog lately, but then there isn’t always much water in the wilderness. On Palm Sunday, I was fortunate enough to attend services at ”St. Paul’s Newton Highlands for a Passion service with music from JC Superstar (which is one of my personal Lenten traditions). For the vocals, St. Paul’s did a gender and age blind casting which I appreciated and interwove narratives from scripture with the songs from JC Superstar to craft a cohesive passion story. Hearing one of my favourite musicals in the context of a mass brought together two of my loves and made the service that much more meaningful. It was exactly what I needed. The liturgy was punctuated by a refrain from another of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s musicals – a modified version of “Close Every Door” from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat that went as follows:

Close every door to me, taunt me and torture me
Bar all the windows and shut out the light.
Do what you must with me, from dust to dust with me,
I’ll stay the course through the day and the night.
If my life were important, I would ask will I live or die,
But that’s not the question, the answer is love.
Close every door to me, throw stones and more at me,
Children of mercy/justice/freedom are never alone.
For we know we shall find, what God has in mind,
For we have been promised that we are God’s own.
-modified by Gretchen Grimshaw

The presentation of the Passion narrative was moving, but it didn’t prepare me for being blown away by Rev’d Gretchen Grimshaw’s sermon. The line that stuck with me most was “If we are willing, God will make us ready.” How many times do we plead unreadiness or unworthiness when responding to Gods call? As a child, I was taught that God answers our prayers in one of three ways: Yes, No, or Not yet. Do we give God the same responses?



I know there have been times when I’ve given God a very loud and resounding “No! Absolutely, positively not!” Have I moved away from that to a response of “Yes, but…”? I feel as though I’m trying to negotiate with God. Is that even possible? I want to be willing, I want to say yes, but I’m scared. I’m scared of what God will ask of me, I’m scare of what I might have to give up. I’m afraid of the unknown and yet at the back of my mind, I believe that saying yes wholeheartedly and accepting God’s invitation is the only way out of the wilderness. Mark’s gospel tells us that the angels were waiting for Jesus at the edge of the wilderness — are there angels waiting for me? Sometimes I think that it is my reluctance —my hesitation— that keeps me in the wilderness. Why should I hesitate to leave the wilderness when I don’t like it here — it’s difficult and I feel I’m approaching my wit’s end. Still, I can’t seem to give God an unconditional yes. I keep trying to arrange things my way. I know that no one except God can guide me out of this wilderness and all I have to do is say yes. But I can’t or I won’t. Though my friends, family, and mentors want to help and might be able to point me in the right direction, it’s up to me to take that step, to take God’s outstretched hand and say, “Yes, I love you, God. I choose you. Yes, I am willing.”

It’s often easier to say yes in the goodtimes. In the wilderness when we feel like Job — drained, spent, exhausted and with nothing left to give — we can find ourselves reluctant to say yes to the unknown because we feel we can’t endure much more. I find myself hesitant to relinquish the few things in my life that still give me security. “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” I feel I’ve lost so much this Lent that I’m reluctant to risk anything else. Instead of taking that step, taking God’s outstretched hand, I want to just curl up and attempt to comfort myself. It’s a hollow comfort but at times I nonetheless insist on it.

When God holds out that hand, I stammer and sputter, reluctant to take up the offer. All my knowledge and belief in a loving, supportive, and benevolent God flees in the face of fear. I insist on my lack of readiness and my unworthiness, claiming I won’t be able to do what God is asking me despite the fact that I hear God telling me, “I have made you worthy and I will make you ready. All you have to do is say yes.”

I want to say yes, but I’m not ready. My heart yearns for God’s embrace, but I’m dragging my feet. Today I still say “Not yet” and “Yes, but…” My impulsive streak wants to say “Forget it all. Why the hell not?” That isn’t equivalent to an unconditional yes though. There’s a difference in agency, in will. One seems to be an end to resistance, an acceptance of inevitability, almost akin to being an accomplice by association. But God asks us for more. A “yes”, freely and unconditionally given, seems predicated on an act of will and agency —it is a choice and an action. It is not simply a resignation and acceptance of something inevitable, it is choosing and moving towards that direction, towards God. It is the difference between active and passive. I’m not sure if there’s value to the “Why not?” response or if it’s closer or further from a firm “YES” however, I think (and hope) that I’m moving towards that unconditional yes and God’s unfaltering patience with my stubbornness comforts me. I can’t say yes just yet, but I’m inching in that direction, towards the unknown and out of the wilderness. If I am willing, God will make me ready.
-written 2.IV.2012