Many
have stood by their I-did-it-my-way philosophy in life. They have tried to
appear to have lived “a life that’s full” solely relying on their own human
capacity. At the heart of their
conviction is that man is self-sufficient; he is intelligent and free; he is
capable of doing what he wants in life and giving meaning to it; he may struggle
but he does not need help; asking for it, especially when kneeling, is
weakness. With pride, he has to face the final curtain of life as he intones:
For
what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught;
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels;
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way! (Sounds familiar, huh!)
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels;
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way! (Sounds familiar, huh!)
Quite
opposite to this self-made man’s confidence or perhaps, more appropriately, conceit,
is the total wretchedness with which other people view life and human
existence. There are those who see only the brokenness of man and live as such—miserable
people. They see only human frailty, imperfections, sinfulness, defeat, and absurdity
of life. So they make life miserable—thanks to alcohol and drugs, to their
insecurities and self-pity, their anger and violence—not only for themselves
but for people who care for them.
But
still another way of approaching life is the way of the man of faith. He shares some likeness with the first two in
that he believes in his worth and dignity, on the one hand, and he acknowledges
his imperfections and inadequacies on the other hand. He is different from them though in that he
opens his heart to the grace of God. In
his moments of inadequacies, he has the courage to bend his knees because he
has no problem accepting he is weak. But precisely in this humility before God,
he finds his strength to overcome not only his imperfections but even the most
crushing of trials that the human spirit is made to endure.
All
three readings of today’s liturgy herald the way of the man of faith by featuring
three models: Isaiah, Paul, and Peter.
In
the first reading (Is 6:1-2a, 3-8), we hear of Isaiah’s calling. Isaiah
acknowledges his unworthiness as he says, “Woe is me. I am doomed! For I am a
man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips…” (v.5). Isaiah’s
imperfection and sinfulness is identified with his lips since his is to be a
preaching ministry. Yet the Lord purified his mouth; his wickedness is removed.
So that, as the Lord asks who to send, Isaiah responded firmly, “Here I am, send
me!”
Paul,
in the second reading (1 Cor 15:1-11), testifies to the same enabling grace of
God in his ministry. He used to
persecute the church of God due to his unenlightened religious convictions, yet
he turned out to become the zealous preacher of the Kerygma, the good news of the saving death and resurrection of
Christ. Here, Paul testifies that this dramatic change in his life is only made
possible by the grace of God: “For I am the least of the apostles, not fit to
be called an apostle… But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to
me has not been ineffective” (v. 9-10).
Finally,
Peter. In the gospel reading (Lk 5:1-11), Peter is humbled by the fact that he
and his fellow fishermen had worked hard all night and had not caught anything;
yet at Jesus’ command, Peter, probably going against the wisdom of his years of
fishing experience, lowered their nets just the same. And to the astonishment
of all, they caught so great a number of fish that their nets were tearing and
their boats were in danger of sinking (v. 5-7)!
Peter,
the expert fisherman, fell at the knees of Jesus as he exclaimed: “Depart from
me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (v. 8). This is Peter’s realization of his
inadequacy in front of the Lord. How consoling for us to be reminded of this
humbling experience of the first pope of the Church of Christ
Isaiah,
Paul, and Peter all illustrated for us the way of the man of faith and how we surely
live life to the full when we allow the grace of God to work in us.
The
man of faith does not have to prove to the world his greatness and strength. After
having done everything that his life is meant to accomplish, he does not have
to proclaim at the top of his lungs that he did it his way. Humility, which
gives him deep serenity, is his path, not pride. He knows that conceit brings
him false glory and honor. Of course, he believes in his giftedness—his
intellect, freedom, abilities—and sees them as such, as gifts. Hence, the man
of faith glorifies not himself but the Giver of every gift in his life.
Moreover,
the man of faith acknowledges quite truthfully his inadequacies. He sees his
brokenness, feels his unworthiness. But he needs not fear his weaknesses for
they are the very occasion of God’s grace to work in his life. It is in the
instance of his humble acceptance of weakness that God’s power makes him
strong; God’s power shines mightily unhampered by the person’s foolish pride.
The man of faith believes that despite his glaring imperfections, he is not
destined to a miserable life; for he is called to a beautiful life, a
meaningful life, a life with purpose and mission.
Clearly our invitation is to stop wasting our time
exploring different ways of living our lives. No use living in either conceit
or defeat. God invites us to live life in the way that brings out the best in
us. God calls us to trudge the path of the man of faith.
