James 24:7

(Third in a series of reflections upon a story of the Desert Fathers)

Someone told me once about overhearing a woman complain to her friend about the reckless behavior of her unwed daughter: "If my daughter doesn't stop messin' around with that boyfriend of hers bad things are going to happen.  Why she almost got pregnant one time before!"

Even a statement that is an objective impossibility can display a certain truth.   We understand, even through our laughter, that the words point to a truth:  If that woman's daughter doesn't stop doing what she is doing she could get pregnant. 

The scripture contains many stories of the impossible almost:

I think of the Rich Young Ruler who came to Jesus only to end up "one last thing" short of discipleship.  (Matthew 19:16-26)

I remember King Agrippa whose admittedly ambiguous response to Paul's preaching suggested that he was "almost persuaded." (Acts 26:28)

I recall the church in Laodicea who was not quite cold and not quite hot but who was so far from "just right." (Revelation 3: 14 ff.)  

I ponder the meaning of Jesus' reply to the scribe who agreed with him concerning the greatest commandment: "you are not far from the kingdom of God." (Mark 12:34)

I  hear the words of Jesus about those who piled up words upon words as they prayed believing that they would be heard "for their much speaking." (Matthew 6:7)

I ruminate upon Paul's words that the day would come when there would be those who practice a form of godliness while denying the power of it.  (I Timothy 3:5)

I reach back to the prophets who castigated Israel for having fallen into the practice of offering sacrices of animals while neglecting works of justice and mercy. (Isaiah 1)

Abba Lot strikes me as a practitioner of the impossible almost.  While he did many good things, many right things, many appropriate things, his manner of doing them exemplified the impossible almost.   He embraced forms of godliness while missing the power behind them, above them, beneath them and within them.

This is evidenced by his words "I say my little office..." and "I fast a little..."  That propensity toward dabbling could be read into every practice he undertook.

I meditate a little...

I pray a little...

I can relate...a lot.

Maybe you can too.

Why might we play around the edges of faith like that?

I'll suggest some possibilities:

1. We might fear real transformative change.  What would happen if God did, as Annie Dillard put it, wake up and actually transform us?  How might that rattle our sense of identity?  How might it alter our plans, our schedules, our relationships?
2. We might be so committed to our ways of life that we are content to fit God in where we can.   We create these hectic lives of ours, one choice and one commitment at a time, and then find that we have so little room for God.  "Hmmm...Lord, I think I can pencil you in on Thursday...how does 3 p.m. sound?"
3. We might think that to genuinely encounter God and be transformed by the intimacy of that friendship is more than is necessary.  After all, some of us signed up as a quick and easy way to get our souls saved, gain some respectability and get the ticket for the glory train. 
4. We might think it all to be too much of a bother.  After all, why be "more religious" than is necessary?  Leave that for the monks and fanatics.
5. We might just lack the discipline.  After all, we may see we are not very disciplined about anything that doesn't just come naturally.  Chances are if we are not disciplined about diet and exercise and keeping a tidy space, we are probably not all that disciplined in matters of the Spirit.
6. We might just be bent that way.  Why is it that our resolutions do not work?  Why do we always fall back into our old ways of being?  Could it be that our falling back is an evidence of our fallenness?

So we dabble at it.  

A little prayer..

A bit of a devotional thought...

A little TV fast....

Abba Lot did not seem bothered by his dabbling.  He did not come to Abba Joseph perplexed over his dabbling.  No, he came to Abba Joseph to learn if there was anything else with which he could dabble.

The behaviorists remind us that we persist in that which pays.  If dabbling pays, we'll dabble.  A little prayer, a little devotional, a little meditation makes us feel that we are at least doing something, that we are at least trying, that we aren't all that bad and may be even a little better than most.  And, who knows, God is probably very pleased with us.

How interesting that we think God might be impressed by our impossible almosts when the scripture we love so much suggests otherwise.