James 24:7

(Fourth in a series of reflections on a story of the Desert Fathers)

The question posed to Jesus by the Rich Young Ruler intrigues me.  "What must I do to inherit eternal life?"

"What must I do to inherit eternal life?"

The question intrigues me because of the issues it raises around the relationship between "doing" and "inheriting."   The young man's question links doing with inheriting and suggests that he believes that one earns "what's coming to him." 

One does not typically inherit something on the basis of what one does.  One inherits on the basis of who one is.  Usually,  children inherit their parents' estates by virtue of the relationship they bear to the parents.

While there are cases, perhaps many cases, of parents cutting children out of their wills because of something they did or failed to do, you do not often hear of someone inheriting something because he or she did X number of things to earn the inheritance.

It is possible.  However, I would suggest that even in the rare case where someone is put into the position of having to earn his inheritance that he or she usually bears some relation to the one setting the contingencies. For example, one could easily imagine a parent making the earning of a college degree a condition of inheritance for her child. 

However, at some point, one must determine when an inheritance is an inheritance and when it has become something other than an inheritance.  In other words, how much work must one do, how many conditions must one meet before one's inheritance becomes something on the order of a paycheck?

The question put to Jesus by the young prince is an intriguing question.  Until I am able to finish law school and plumb the depths of estate law, I will assume that his question is based upon the assumption of earning. 

What must I do...how many projects must I complete...how productive must I become...what principles must I follow so that I may inherit ( or deserve?) eternal life?  

Or, to put it another way, how can I put God in my debt?

I am not sure that Abba Lot wanted to put God in his debt.  However, he did seem to think of the spiritual life as a to-do list of tasks.   He enumerated to Abba Joseph the ways in which he dabbled in various spiritual practices and he asked: "What else can I do?"

His question is every bit as intriguing as the one posed by the Rich Young Ruler.

"What else can I do?" 

I imagine Abba Lot getting up one morning feeling rested.  I see him getting out his Day Planner (come on, he is old school!) and checking out the week ahead.  He sees that he has penciled in meditation for 9 a.m. and prayer for 9:30 a.m.   He notes that he is due to fast on the upcoming Thursday but only from 8 a.m. to noon since he has a luncheon at noon.

He looks up from his Day Planner and looks out of his window. "Hmmm...I live in the desert. Not much doing out here.  I think I have time for more practices but am just not sure which ones to add to my current list.  I know! I'll check by with Abba Joseph.  He'll know what other practices I might try."  

I see Abba Lot, this good and righteous man, studying his schedule, noting his "open spots" and seeking to fill in the blanks with even more spiritual practices in which to dabble.

"What else can I do?"

The  ever-doing "I" is at the center of his question. The "I" is the protagonist of his story, the center from which he operates, the point around which his spiritual world spins. 

Abba Lot sits in the center of himself, peruses the catalog of spiritual practices, checks the ones he will undertake and the ones to which he may return. He schedules his time. He makes his appointments with God.  He fits his practice into his self-perscribed agenda. As noted before, he makes his plan to undertake the spiritual life on his own terms.

"What else can I do?" 

 Abba Lot sees the spiritual life as a series of tasks to be undertaken and completed.  He seems to think that there is merit in the doing-for-the-sake-of-doing.  He seems to favor a check-list faith.

I do not see how his desires could be motivated by anything other than a desire to earn or to at least achieve.   Perhaps he thinks he can achieve wholeness through practice as practice.  Perhaps he thinks he must work to earn God's favor.  Perhaps he thinks that he needs to do more to keep up with (or surpass?) the hermit next door. 

His desire to add more or to do more is linked to some goal, some desire, some vision that promises some reward for effort rendered.

I know it is unfair of me to judge Abba Lot from this great distance but it does seem to me that Abba Lot thinks he can practice his way to God on his own terms.  He seems to believe that he, in himself, can reach wholeness by selecting the correct recipe of practices.

He seems to think that dabbling in the spiritual life is sufficient.  A little of this, a bit of that, a dash of the other.

He seems to think that the spiritual life is a matter of reaching a critical mass of practices.  I do this, I do that, now...what do I need to do next?

I may well be reading my character into his.  

But then...maybe that's the point of the story.