Disruption

Remember the faith that took men from home
At the call of a wandering preacher.
Our age is an age of moderate virtue
And of moderate vice
When men will not lay down the Cross
Because they will never assume it.
Yet nothing is impossible, nothing,
To men of faith and conviction.
Let us therefore make perfect our will.
O GOD, help us.
(From Eliot's Choruses from 'The Rock,' VIII)

I prefer being the deferential, cautious and politic attendant lord... but I'm called to disturb the universe.

"Will you baptize my baby girl?" ... "Why don't you come to church sometime and we'll talk about it?" (i.e.: "Break bread and coffee cake with us and then we'll talk some more.")

I struggle to balance the tremendously high calling of faith with the tremendously rare gift of grace. In the church, baptism isn't something we sell or perform; it is a celebration of a beginning. The beginning of a life of faith, the beginning of nurturing relationships; this is the high calling. Yet we are called to compassion and love and grace and other ethereal, less measurable outcomes; these are increasingly rare. In an age of moderate virtue, I am called to the faith that takes us from our homes to assume our crosses. How can I promise to give the strong support of God's family to one I will see again only when she wants her baby baptized? How to balance faith and conviction with grace and love?

I'm not sure there is a balance. Maybe there is only a disruption that somehow transcends our too small ideas of the universe. Where stands the Invisible Church?

Perfect my will and help me, O GOD.