Figuring It Out
I graduated from college last weekend. In other words, I've entered the period during which I'm allegedly obligated to do scary, abstract things like "figure out my future." As I’ve gathered, figuring out my future means heading down the path that culminates in what we amiably call "settling down."
Settling down and being comfortable are ideals whose values seem to dictate a lot of our decisions. While driving earlier today, I listened to an interview with a famous actress who recalled her first audition at 24 – a late start in the entertainment industry. She said that, as she prepared to enter the room, she prayed she would find that acting was the thing she was supposed to do. After dabbling in writing and taking a string of side jobs, all she wanted was to find her place and to be there. Then, she would be at peace.
So often we pair peace with stability and comfort for ourselves and the small circle of those closest to us. The term “a good job” is synonymous with a job that offers financial security for ourselves and our families. I know many students who chose college majors that didn’t reflect their true passions, but which would allow for greater financial opportunities and opportunity for advancement. Pairing peace with security is tempting and even practical, and it makes sense if we orient our goals according to worldly ends; however, to pair these two is not the calling of the Catholic.
In her book “The Reed of God,” Caryll Houselander writes that “the world has set up a new set of Beatitudes” – ideals that supplant those Christ shares in the Gospel. These new Beatitudes include: “Blessed are the comfortably well off,” and “Blessed are those who are bored for a good salary on six days in the week and can overeat on the seventh.”
What are the fruits men gain from living according to such ideals? “Their reward will not be very great but they will never be unduly disturbed and they will never disturb the complacency of others.”
To seek comfort actively is to cheat God of the opportunity to call us to places that we cannot imagine – not simply physical places, but new levels and kinds of trust in Him and intimacy with Him. To seek comfort is also to imply by our actions that we will only maintain our sense of peace if all of our personal “conditions” are met. But, as Catholics, we are not called to seek such fragile forms of peace; instead, we are called to carry the peace of God with us wherever He leads us, whenever He asks us to make a change.
I’ve perceived a pattern among many of the saints and many of my faith role models (I believe that these categories overlap): they exhibit their faith in their openness to change according to the will of God. These individuals are intelligent, successful in their posts, making marvelous waves in their communities . . . but they do not let their fruitful positions become excuses to refuse change. They do not let earthly goodness become more important than their ever-renewed “yes” to the will of the Father. It is this “yes,” in fact, their trust in the ultimate goodness, wisdom, and love of the Lord that offers the peace that animates them to do good however their external circumstances may change.
Houselander writes that the only enduring peace is that which echoes Mary’s fiat – her joyful and trustful “yes” to God at the Annunciation – a trust that carried through every moment of her life and which she wants to dispense to us, her children.
Houselander writes: “In this great fiat of the little girl Mary, the strength and foundation of our life of contemplation is grounded, for it means absolute trust in God, trust which will not set us free from suffering but will set us free from anxiety, hesitation, and above all from the fear of suffering. Trust which makes us willing to be what God wants us to be, however great or however little that may prove. Trust which accepts God as illimitable Love.”
Katelyn has interned with The Message the past two years and is a graduate of Indiana University in Bloomington. You may contact her at kklingler@evdio.org.
