Do the Right Thing. A little phrase with such potency and responsibility: Always do the right thing, i remember from a movie of the same name.
But we don't have a script to follow or strings that puppet us through our day. Today the invitations are out for a great feast of our Lord and we are welcome! To attend all i have to do is say 'yes', get my life in order so that my 'suit' will be grandly presentable and select a worthy gift for my Maker, His son my Saviour, King, Counsellor, the Lamb who gave his earthy life up on the Cross for all our sins.
I have a million and one excuses for not attending, the first being that i'm not worthy. Still, i have an invitation. There are so many things in life that i am invited to do, yet shrink back from. No interest, no time, no effort to be found, other priorities or responsibilities, distractions, indeed, a million and one excuses i have.
But to attend would be magnificent, me thinks? The ego cries out again and again and again because to accept such an invitation might risk all that it has worked for, namely, that big Me, the centre of its world. Yet, to not accept is to deny the Holy Ghost by putting the greatness of my own Self first: pride.
By accepting that i'm not worthy and thereby not accepting the personal invitation, i've put my own interests first. I've allowed my fearful little ego to pull my strings. It's cold and wet outside, so i'd rather sit on the couch, warm and dry; if i go out i might get wet, catch a cold; i certainly wont enjoy it; actually, it's pointless; i don't have a gift; i'll do it another time when conditions are more suitable, less discomforting to me; i can achieve the same, if not more, pleasure here on the couch anyway.
Anyone recognise this script?
The great feast will come and go without my attendance, for with the self-involved little voice at the helm, there will never be another, more convenient moment. Invitations will pile up under the doormat. Soon, they will not even be noticed, tossed out with the junk mail.
And there shall be much wailing and grinding of teeth.
Oh, and make sure you have your wedding garment always close at hand and ready to put on at a moment's notice: that would be another tiresome task the ego might be less that enthusiastic to maintain daily, moment to moment, throughout our lives. And if the buttons are getting dull, the lace dusty or the velvet moth-eaten ... and that couch is looking better and better ... speak the words aloud: Do the Right Thing.
Deo gratias.
But we don't have a script to follow or strings that puppet us through our day. Today the invitations are out for a great feast of our Lord and we are welcome! To attend all i have to do is say 'yes', get my life in order so that my 'suit' will be grandly presentable and select a worthy gift for my Maker, His son my Saviour, King, Counsellor, the Lamb who gave his earthy life up on the Cross for all our sins.
I have a million and one excuses for not attending, the first being that i'm not worthy. Still, i have an invitation. There are so many things in life that i am invited to do, yet shrink back from. No interest, no time, no effort to be found, other priorities or responsibilities, distractions, indeed, a million and one excuses i have.
But to attend would be magnificent, me thinks? The ego cries out again and again and again because to accept such an invitation might risk all that it has worked for, namely, that big Me, the centre of its world. Yet, to not accept is to deny the Holy Ghost by putting the greatness of my own Self first: pride.
By accepting that i'm not worthy and thereby not accepting the personal invitation, i've put my own interests first. I've allowed my fearful little ego to pull my strings. It's cold and wet outside, so i'd rather sit on the couch, warm and dry; if i go out i might get wet, catch a cold; i certainly wont enjoy it; actually, it's pointless; i don't have a gift; i'll do it another time when conditions are more suitable, less discomforting to me; i can achieve the same, if not more, pleasure here on the couch anyway.
Anyone recognise this script?
The great feast will come and go without my attendance, for with the self-involved little voice at the helm, there will never be another, more convenient moment. Invitations will pile up under the doormat. Soon, they will not even be noticed, tossed out with the junk mail.
And there shall be much wailing and grinding of teeth.
Oh, and make sure you have your wedding garment always close at hand and ready to put on at a moment's notice: that would be another tiresome task the ego might be less that enthusiastic to maintain daily, moment to moment, throughout our lives. And if the buttons are getting dull, the lace dusty or the velvet moth-eaten ... and that couch is looking better and better ... speak the words aloud: Do the Right Thing.
Deo gratias.
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