St. Gregory’s Church Woodstock

Sunday, 8 March, 2009, Second Sunday in Lent

The Rev’d Susan Auchincloss

Mark 8:31-38

For today’s reading go to:http://bible.oremus.org

If the liturgical seasons had symbols, wouldn't a mirror serve well for the season of Lent – signifying self-examination? Very likely, if I asked how many of us have a daily practice of self-examination, few hands would go up. Today I hope to convince you of how good it is to examine our lives, and to do it daily. The Gospel raises this issue when Jesus says, enigmatically, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake... will save it.” Is he talking about two lives – two selves? One we can afford to lose and one we cannot afford to lose? What kind of paradox is this? I want to explore the question by means of this story. It comes from the book My Grandfather's Blessings by Rachel Naomi Remen.

An exceptionally skilled surgeon suffered from depression. Some days he was only able to drag himself out of bed with the promise that he would retire as soon as possible. Day in day out, all he heard were complaints, and all he saw was disease. He was desperate for a new life; and finally it drove him to see a counselor.

The counselor suggested a simple exercise. At the end of each day he was to ask himself three questions, and record the answers with a few short sentences in a journal. The questions were these. What surprised me today? What moved me or touched me today? What inspired me today?

The man phoned after three days, exasperated. He said he had done the exercise faithfully and the answers after day one were: nothing; nothing; and nothing. Day two and day three yielded the same results. He could not figure out how he could be so busy and lead such an empty life. The counselor encouraged him to keep trying the exercise.

After six weeks he brought in his journal. After that unpromising start he had begun to find some answers. At first they were strictly professional, such as surprise that an experimental drug was working so effectively. But gradually the answers began to include people. For instance, he was moved by a patient who had found a way to triumph over pain and suffering. A patient inspired him who had been willing to sacrifice part of his body in order to affirm the value of his life.

At first, he would only notice the things that surprised him, moved him or inspired him hours after they happened; but gradually the lag time shortened. In due time he noticed things as they happened. At that point he began to relate to people differently – seeing them as more than simply a case. He noticed that people began to respond to him differently. He took the step of talking to people about more than their disease. He asked about what sustained them during their illness; about where they found their strength. Their answers interested him deeply, because what he heard, he discovered, was true for him, too. As he said, he knew disease very well, but he did not know people.

At his last session, deeply touched, he brought out of his pocket a gift that a patient had given him. A stethoscope. “What do you do with that?” the counselor asked. He looked at her puzzled. Then a huge smile spread over his face as he said, “I listen to hearts.”

At the beginning of the story, these words of Jesus applied to the surgeon: “Those who want to save their life will lose it.” He was losing his life, spiritually speaking. Depression had drained all joy and meaning from his days. Nevertheless, threadbare as it was, he wanted to save it. What life was he trying to save? Wasn't it a life he lived in his head? He interacted with other human beings, but he remained separate, objective, essentially an island alone. A life like this, try as we might, cannot be saved. As Jesus said, we are bound to lose it.

Thanks to the intervention of his counselor, he began a daily practice of self-examination. The practice bore fruit, because of the nature of the exercise he was asked to do. What surprised you today? You cannot answer this question if you stay in your head; you have to attend to your body and its capacity to register surprise. What moved you or touched you today? Again, you cannot answer this from your head; you have to move into your heart and connect with other people. What inspired you today? You cannot think your way to an answer; you have to answer with your soul – that window within that opens onto the great mystery that is life... and is enveloped by it.

At first he could only experience these things indirectly, by thinking back and eventually remembering the surprise, the emotion, and the inspiration. Then gradually he was able to connect directly to the present moment. He no longer thought about his experience, he became his experience. He identified with the people he met; he felt how, below their superficial differences, the great pulse of Life surged through them all. A life like this can be saved. Jesus said, “Those who lose their life for my sake...will save it.” The surgeon gave up his earlier, separated life, and he did it for Jesus' sake; because whenever we choose to be one with the whole of humanity, we are one with Jesus. It is what we mean by salvation.

When we undertake self-examination we are like people tracing a genetic heritage. Each deed or word or thought springs from one of only two lineages – one of two selves, two lives. One we could call our 'isolation-ward' self; the other not so much a self, as a great chorus of mingled, blended voices which we identify as Self. We will find, as the surgeon did, that as we develop our practice of self-examination, it becomes, not a daily practice, but gradually, an on-going capacity for self-awareness. In the very midst of a thought, word, or deed we realize its ancestry. This can be disheartening, because almost every thought, word, and deed we do issues from the isolation-ward.

Friends, this is where repentance comes in. Repentance, as we know, means to turn. When I have decided to stop putting my eggs into the basket marked “self” with a small 's' and instead, to turn and put them into the basket marked “Self” with a capital 'S' then I have repented. I have turned. The fact that I have two lives, so to speak, has been revealed to me; and from here on in my intention is to fill only the second basket. And when I say eggs, I mean my energy and resources, my time and abilities. Will I succeed in putting them into the second basket? Scarcely at all, at first. I'll do better as the years go by. I will never succeed 100%.

This should not cast us down. I have not used the word sin, so far, but we sin with every thought, word, or deed that springs from our isolation-ward self. Our sins should never cast us down. Remember it's not about me. That is isolation-ward thinking. To try to improve myself, become a better person – that amounts to saving my life to lose it, to use Jesus' terms. It carries the whiff of self-perfectionism. Have none of it. Our sins are not for casting us down, but for lifting us up. When I sin, inevitably I hurt myself and others. I feel it in my body as pain. I feel it in my heart as grief. I feel it in my soul as imprisonment. It gives me a strong incentive to repent. It changes – or 'repents' – the direction of my energy, away from trying to become a better person or improve myself, and toward working together with the great chorus to make the whole world a better place and improve conditions for the whole human race. There is only joy in that and it is joy shared.

If what I have said has surprised you, moved you, or inspired you, perhaps you will listen favorably to this suggestion. We have a liturgy coming up that is all of one piece, beginning Maundy Thursday, continuing Good Friday, and culminating on Saturday evening and Easter Sunday. Think about setting that time aside right now in your calenders and participate. We do not just remember those events, much less think about them. That would be the act of a separate individual. We enact the events, we experience them as if we were there with our bodies, hearts and spirits – as if we were one, must-have voice in a great heavenly chorus. Dare to take that leap of faith.