Newspaper Columns by Bishop Paul V. Marshall
Pride is a silly thing to die for
By Bishop Paul V. Marshal
March, 2005My wife is shoveling snow. I've been struggling with asthmatic bronchitis.
It would be insanity to join her. I know this, yet guilt and anxiety are
with me, despite the fact that she is not showing any signs of martyrdom or
self-sacrifice.
There's this guy thing: heavy lifting is my domain. Navigating our steep,
twisting driveway with my enormous snow-blower is the one place I still get
to be the pioneer, making the cave safe and accessible. Instead of hearing
the roar and inhaling the exhaust of the Briggs and Stratton engine, I type
this to the scrape-scrape of a patient and relentless woman's unceasing
efforts with a shovel. It's embarrassing.
Few of us are good at doing the work of being sick, especially when the
sickness is not dramatic or life-threatening, just boring and frustrating.
Staying still, being intentionally quiet, adopting the discipline of rest.
It goes against the grain for those who enjoy being productive.
The forced down-time reminds me of how little rest most of us build into our
lives. The question occurs to me with new emphasis. Perhaps rest and
recreation are like investing for retirement - you need to do it
intentionally over the long haul to get the benefits. The religious word for
this is stewardship, management of resources with a goal in mind.
Then there is control. Not being able to organize and administer one's life
and work because of physical weakness is too clear a reminder that in the
end we will have to give up absolutely everything. The usual ability to be
active, to be in charge of one's life, enables us to deny that each of us is
living on borrowed time. I now have enough relatives and friends nearing
life's end for this thought to be uncomfortable. My turn will come. Let's
change the subject.
I am fascinated by the recent revelation that Prince Charles has a man who
uses a golden key to squeeze the prince's toothpaste out for him every
morning. Being waited on when one is well and in charge is an experience of
power. Being waited on to that extent must make one feel, well, royal.
Being waited on when one is weak and vulnerable is not so pleasant, but it
does bring a choice. It can be an experience of frustration, defeat, and
humiliation or an experience of grace. That slippery word means receiving
what we are not entitled to because somebody is kind.
One can either get tired of having to say thank you, or one can learn to
cherish each opportunity for acknowledging human kindness. When she comes back in, I will try the latter path.
One of the reasons Christianity is challenging is that it involves the
concept of a savior, someone who does for us what we cannot do for
ourselves. For most of us it seems un-American to step outside of the circle
of self-reliance, of self-actualization, of paying one's own way-in this
country being bailed out by the government is for the very rich and to some
extent for the very poor. We in the middle are used to taking care of
ourselves. To have to accept the fact that we need someone to show us how to
live and how to die puts us precisely where I am with my snow-shoveling
wife.
So I find that the choice in attitude I make about the snow shoveling is a
measure of my attitude toward the big things of life. Pride is a very silly
thing to die for. Will I allow myself to be cared for and be genuinely
grateful for that care, or will I resist the grace that is offered me?Return to the index of Bishop Paul's columns for the secular press
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