“Taking Commitment Seriously” by Deborah Sokolove

October 18, 201515 Altar Recommitment

Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost

Last Sunday, Jackie invited us to take seriously the notion that walking in darkness is a spiritual path. We need darkness, she reminded us, in order to be able to see the light.

It is clear that Job takes his spiritual disciplines seriously. In fact, the list sounds a lot like some of the promises we just made — you know —

  • But doing everything right can only get us so far. Despite Job’s —and our — good works, sometimes everything just goes wrong. We lose our possessions. We lose our jobs. Our children get into trouble or fall ill and nothing we can do seems to help them. We get cancer. We get old, our knees and hips wear out, our sight and hearing begin to fail. We fall into depression, and the world around us looks as dark as the deepest winter night, even when the sun is shining on a perfect autumn day.

    Yikes! Cold comfort here! Is Jesus really saying, You get to work hard, to drink a bitter cup, and even to die a painful death, and I can’t promise you any reward at all? Is he really saying that no matter how tired I am, no matter how discouraged, no matter how many commitments are being asked of me, my role is to put my own needs aside and serve others? Just as Jesus quite literally pours out his life-blood for others, am I to spend every moment of every day giving to others and ignoring my own needs? My mind reels! How can that be good news? I don’t want to be weighed down by the unending needs of others, let alone their expectations! Too often, trying to live a life of service feels like falling into a deep, dark pit, with no exit and no hope of relief. How is this Good News?

    Come to me, all you who labor and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. Here you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”[Matthew 11:28-30] And again, in Matthew 5:14-16, we are told, “You are the light of the world. … let your light shine before others.” When we pour out our lives as light, the deep, dark pit dissolves into a radiant vision of the Realm of God.

    Last week, I experienced two such moments of miraculous grace which reminded me why I and so many of my friends take seriously our commitment to God’s calling on us to pour out our lives as artists.

    While both of us are experienced artists in a variety of media, and both have made large, temporary installations in a variety of worship and gallery spaces, neither of us had ever worked with a fabricator to make something both big and permanent. Over the ensuing weeks, I learned what to say (and what not to say!) to people in the donor-tree and art-fabrication industries, mostly to find out that what we had in mind would cost about twice the budget I had off-handedly tossed off to the seminary administration. Finally, in desperation, I called a colleague at the Catholic University School of Architecture, who connected me to the director of the fabrication lab, Davide Prete. Davide is an artist in his own right, coming from a family of sculptors in Italy. And with an estimate conveniently just under budget, he became our third collaborator.

    Who is this darkening counsel without knowledge?”

    t understand,

    My ears had heard about you,

    Therefore, I relent and find comfort

    Job, it seems, has seen the light. Even though, as we are repeatedly told throughout his story, Job was a good, upright person, he was missing something important. In all of his work and careful adherence to the rules, even all of his prayers on behalf of his partying children, he was missing the glory of God.

    .