What do I want to do With My Life?

Today, January 24, is the memorial to St. Francis de Sales, Bishop and Doctor of the Church. 

It was in praying the Office of Readings today that I was made aware of his book, Introduction to the Devout Life.  In this section of the book was the answer to the question, “What should I do with my life?”

Well, not really the answer, but some very good direction for us as Christian stewards, disciples of Jesus Christ.

Spiritual direction, specifically.  The whole book is about spiritual direction, and it is the compilation of St. Francis’ working with an individual who was seeking to live a devout life and sought our saint’s assistance in attaining that desire. 

He begins his work with an introduction where he says “DEAR reader, I request you to read this Preface for your own satisfaction as well as mine.”  Now I don’t know about you, but there are many times I skip the introduction of a book, telling myself that I need to get to the heart of the matter.  Yet this time I felt compelled to read the preface, especially after that first sentence.

His preface, a beautiful treatise on its own, goes on to describe the encounter he had with an individual who requested spiritual direction from him.  He calls this person “A certain soul, abounding in uprightness and virtue, … aspir(ing) a more earnestly … devout life.”  What follows is his advice to her, “…written records thereof, to which she might have recourse when necessary.”  Thus do we have those instructions available to ourselves.

He doesn’t tell us the name of the person to whom he is giving this direction, but that “I have addressed my instructions to Philothea …. meaning one who loves God.”  Meaning all of us who love God.  He uses that name throughout the book.  When we realize that name means all of us, it is as though we are sitting across from St. Francis de Sales himself, giving us spiritual direction.

I found it fascinating that he addressed the fact that, as a bishop, people said he should not be spending his time doing some so lowly as providing spiritual direction to an individual.  He dispenses with that particular notion by invoking the names of Sts. Paul, Petronilla, and Mark as providing spiritual direction for individuals, so why not him.

Finally, St. Francis tells us that he is not a devout man himself, but wishes to become one, which is why he is teaching his student.  He writes “A notable literary man has said that a good way to learn is to study, a better to listen, and the best to teach. And S. Augustine, writing to the devout Flora, says, that giving is a claim to receive, and teaching a way to learn.”

Now how about that claim I made regarding what we are called to do?

We are all called to “… love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. (MT 22:37)  St. Francis tells us that we can do this no matter our vocation, and we can do this in accord with our calling.  “A different exercise of devotion is required of each—the noble, the artisan, the servant, the prince, the maiden and the wife; and furthermore such practice must be modified according to the strength, the calling, and the duties of each individual.”

Our vocations should always be God centered.  Our LIVES should be God centered.  In spite of our rationalization to compartmentalize our lives – “This is God’s, this is mine.”  – St. Francis tells us that “It is an error, nay more, a very heresy, to seek to banish the devout life from the soldier’s guardroom, the mechanic’s workshop, the prince’s court, or the domestic hearth.”   

Don’t leave God at the office door. You may not be able to celebrate Mass in the office, but if we live our lives as stewards – disciples – of Jesus Christ, then God is with us regardless of what it says in the policies and procedures manual.

The Church is incredibly, immeasurably rich in the treasury of the writings of the saints.  Introduction to the Devout Life is a jewel in that treasury.

St. Francis de Sales, pray for us.

The Right Tithe

This originally appeared in The Message, the Diocese of Evansville’s weekly newspaper

With the New Year comes decisions about how we are going to share the gifts God has given us.

Here’s a question that gets asked a lot: “How much do we tithe?”  Then it’s followed up with “Is that gross or net income?”

Whenever I hear this, I get indigestion.  We have just turned showing gratitude to God, who gives us everything, into an accounting exercise.

Seriously – tell me that question, “gross or net,” has never crossed your mind. 

Let’s look in on a Catholic family working on their budget.

“Ok, here is my salary.  Here is my wife’s salary.  Ten percent of that is … Wow, that’s a lot.  We can’t give that much.  Oh, I forgot to deduct taxes.  No, that’s still too much.  We have to leave out our 401k contributions.  We should also leave out our employer matches, because they’re not really part of our salaries.  Insurance, mortgage, child care, groceries, and recreation.  We can’t forget recreation.  I know that’s required in the Bible somewhere. 

That brings it to ….  Now that’s a number I can live with.  (Yelling into the next room) Honey, I’m going to make a $10 donation to St. Michael’s this year.”

Maybe that’s a little dramatic.  But then again, maybe not.  Is our tithing calculation reflective of figuring out our adjusted gross income from the bottom of page one on our Form 1040? 

Maybe the numbers are different, but the process is the same.  We are figuring out what is the least we can pay without getting in trouble.

Ten percent is a number that regularly gets thrown into the mix.  That amount is just to give you some direction.  For a more definitive answer, check the Catechism of the Catholic Church, number 2043.  “…the faithful are obliged to assist with the material needs of the Church, each according to his own ability.”

The decision as to how much you give for the “material support of the Church” is between you and God.  People use ten percent because it’s convenient, and there is widespread belief that is the amount called for in the Bible.  However, there is much argument about that, and you just read what the Church teaches.

When we turn our stewardship into a task, a box to be checked on our list of things to do, we might as well not do it. 

There have been times when I have received an invitation to a graduation or a wedding of the child of an acquaintance / friend whom I haven’t seen for a while.  I don’t know the person real well, and I know the child even less.  Yet I feel obligated to acknowledge the event with a gift.

There is no love there.  I do this because it feels like I have to.  I search for the least expensive item that satisfies my obligation, then grudgingly wrap it up and send it off.

Why do I even bother?

Is that how we treat our Lord? 

How much do we tithe?  The real question should be “How much do I keep FROM God?” Quickly followed by “And why would I do that?”

As always, thanks for reading.  I would love to hear from you.  Write to me at mpotter@evdio.org.

Left Overs

Christ in the Desert is a Benedictine monastery outside of Abiquiu, New Mexico. Calling its location remote is an understatement.  After reaching Abiquiu, you still have another 13 miles of dirt road to navigate before you arrive at the monastery.  Their website advises that the road can become impassable if there is rain, snow, ice, or thawing conditions.  They also advise a 4-wheel-drive vehicle to make the trip, and warn that there is little cell service and no expectation of help should you get stranded.

Benedictines study the Rule of St. Benedict daily.  The rule is divided in such a way that each day a portion of it is read, and over the course of the year the entire Rule is read three times. Recently we read from verses 45-50 of the Prologue. The very last sentence in the Prologue, verse 50, reads like this: 

Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom. Amen.

After each section, Christ in the Desert Abbot Phillip Lawrence has written a commentary. Here is what he said about this passage that caught my stewardship eye:

We take back in little ways the fullness of life we have promised, and end up giving God what is left over. It is not that any of us chooses against God in big ways, only that we are on the way of perfection, not having reached it at this point. We ought to look into our personal lives and ask ourselves what are the things that we are not yet willing to give up. We need to offer them to God. Even though we cannot yet give them up, we can ask for the grace to give them up.

There is a lot packed into those five sentences.  Even though most of us are not monks committed to a communal life that forbids private ownership of things, we can still gain much insight by asking ourselves two things that arise from Abbot Phillip’s writing:

1. Do we only give God the leftovers?
2. What are we not willing to give to God?

These are much harder to answer than we might think.  Our first reaction might be to pooh-pooh the question altogether, as in “I only give God the good stuff.”  But let’s take a little deeper look.

Have you ever been asked to help out at your parish, your kids’ school, or some other place that depends on volunteers for much of its labor?  Is your answer “Sure!” Or is it “Well, I can give you 45 minutes every other month, as long as football, basketball, and baseball don’t conflict.”

Have you ever been asked to bring canned goods to give to a food drive?  Do you send along the salmon, or the can of creamed corn from way in back of the pantry with a sketchy expiration date?

Ever have the basket come to you at Mass and you look in your wallet past the twenties for that $1 bill?

We take back in little ways the fullness of life we have promised.

We see this all the time, where we either say “yes” to something, only to claw it back when we realize that thing we were about to give away – our time, talent, and/or treasure – is “too” valuable to give up. Or else we only give the crumbs to begin with.

As stewards of God’s grace, Disciples of Jesus Christ, we are to give of our first fruits – the best we have – to God. 

Why do we keep the best for ourselves and give the leftovers to God?  God gives us everything.  All things come FROM God, and all things belong TO God. 

For all that God has done for us, and all he promises to do for us, don’t you think that God deserves our best?

As Abbot Phillip tells us, “Even though we cannot yet give them up, we can ask for the grace to give them up.”

St. Benedict, pray for us.

https://christdesert.org/prayer/rule-of-st-benedict/