Saturday 6/23/18 4:05 AM
I have always enjoyed singing and have been in choirs since
high school. Sometimes people will complement me on how the choir has sung and
I will invite them to join the choir. They often deflect the invitation by
saying something to the effect of, “I can’t sing very well, but I make a joyful
noise.” Today I read Psalm 33, my psalm for the week. It begins, “Sing joyfully
to the Lord, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him.” That
command covers everyone, those who can sing and those who can’t. Verse 3 of the
same psalm reads, “Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy.”
The implication is that playing skillfully is desirable along with the joy.
I am somewhat of a perfectionist. When I do something, I want
to do it well. Today I plan to paint the doors and the door frames of the recently
remodeled bathrooms in our house. I will do the best I can but I’m also certain
that when I finish I will see blemishes in my work that will bother me. I have
the same feeling in almost everything I undertake, from teaching my classes to
caring for the lawn and flowerbeds at my house. The desire to do things
skillfully sometimes can be crippling. I find that at times I will put off
doing a task or I will refuse to do it entirely because I do not feel I can
perform to a certain standard of excellence.
Over the course of the past year I feel like God is calling
me to do something to address the injustices that are within our society. I am
paralyzed because I don’t know what it is I can do, and I feel inadequate to do
anything of substance that would make a meaningful difference. I wonder if part
of the problem of overcoming the inertia of my inaction is my desire to do things
skillfully. Maybe I’m afraid of trying something and not performing up to a
certain standard so I simply refuse to even try.
Part of my reading
today were these words by Ernest Boyer, Jr. in his book, A Way in the World. “Life at the center lives the reality of the presence
of God in the now of every moment of every act that is done. It is a life that
sees the greatness of the smallest of tasks, since these, as all others, are of
God’s work. Life lived at the center is an expression of God’s immediate presence.
It is not a life of imitation; nor one of anticipation; it is instead a life of
participation, participation in the truth of its own full reality. But in
saying this, no one should think that life at the center seeks some special
mode of existence, some level of being somehow above the mundane toil of day to
day. Just the opposite – it is life at its most human. It is not a life that
ignores or avoids the ordinary, but one that lives it fully, since it knows
that in so doing it expresses the profoundest of the profound. It is a life
that may know pain and trouble; it certainly knows routine. It lives this as it
lives everything – moment to moment – and in doing so touches the eternal.”
I think I have an expectation that the work God calls me to
has to be what Boyer calls a special mode of existence, a level above the
mundane. Perhaps God’s desire is that I do exactly what I am doing now in my
day to day teaching. Most of my students are people of color who experience the
injustices that are so prevalent within our society. In many cases, my
awareness of the injustices is due to having relationships with my students in
which I see the things that they deal with on a daily basis. Maybe my simple
listening ear, the writing of a letter of recommendation, the filling out of a
scholarship application in their behalf, and the other mundane parts of my job
in which I have the opportunity to share my life and my experiences with my
students is my way of addressing the injustices, a way to give them a leg up in
a world that wants to throw them down. I want to perform skillfully in
addressing the injustices; perhaps God simply wants me to make a joyful noise.
