Reflection - control

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/120716.cfm

Isaiah 40:25-31
Matthew 11:28-30

To whom can you liken me as an equal?
To whom then will you compare me, that I should be like him? 

God sounds as if he's a bit perplexed in having to ask the question, knowing, as he does, the only possible answer---an answer which should be obvious even to those who don't know that the Pope is Catholic. Nevertheless, he graciously proceeds to make the case for his 'what-should-be-obvious' uniqueness.

Lift up your eyes on high, he says, 
and see who has created these things.
Do you not know or have you not heard?
The LORD is the eternal God,
creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint nor grow weary,
and his knowledge is beyond scrutiny.

A number of rational conclusions follow from accepting the proposition that God is 'creator.' A couple are specified as God continues the discourse, reminding the people that even the power and stamina within them comes from him.

He gives strength to the fainting;
for the weak he makes vigor abound.
Though young men faint and grow weary,
and youths stagger and fall,
They that hope in the LORD will renew their strength,
they will soar as with eagles’ wings;
They will run and not grow weary, walk and not grow faint.

Along with many others, I like to rely on the premise that God is in charge, particularly when events in my community, my country and the world don't unfold exactly as I would like, or as I think they should. Then I remind myself: In the final analysis, God is in charge. The position isn't quite so comfortable when the events that don't 'properly' evolve are events in my own life. But, on the whole, it's a serviceable position, especially when you believe that you and God are on the same side. In fact, dissonance only arises when my insistence that God is in control confronts a deep seated, inner attitude, the one that insists that I'm in charge.

My six year old grandson resists outside interference in his projects. He doesn't' want suggestions. He is not agreeable to advice. He's not even receptive when you persist and tell him that your ideas will make his task easier and his struggle light. "I can do it myself!" he says. Our culture is supportive of his righteous independence. And righteous it is --- or so we think. Certain stores specifically cater to the do-it-yourselfer. We admire the self-made man. We are admonished to just "Do it!" We applaud when Frank Sinatra or some more contemporary singer serenades us with the words of the Paul Anka song.

     And now the end is near, So I face the final curtain
     My friend, I'll say it clear, I'll state my case of which I'm certain

     I've lived a life that's full, I've traveled each and every highway
     And more, much more than this, I did it my way

While there are differences, the self-observation applauded in the song doesn't seem all that much different from the pronouncements of my grandson. What's even more troubling for me, however, is that my grandson's attitude calls to mind the words Paul wrote to the Corinthians. "I could not address you as spiritual men, but as men of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food; for you were not ready for it; and even yet you are not ready. (1 Corinthians 3:1-2) Now Paul was writing about a different matter than the one we are considering here. Nevertheless, his words make me wonder if my grandson' insistence on doing things himself is not a model for spiritual immaturity. Or conversely, is our spiritual maturity measured by our willingness to trust completely on God? Is the need to "do it myself" an indication that I am still spiritually feeding on milk? 

Where is the line that separates my control of my life and God's control of my life? Is there even such a thing in this matter as a division of labor--- Lord, you take control of this and I'll take control of that? 

On the one hand we have the Lord's words through Isaiah insisting that, for those who hope in God, strength, vitality and stamina come from the Lord; and they come with such potency that the recipients "will soar as with eagles’ wings; they will run and not grow weary, walk and not grow faint." On the other hand we have Jesus acknowledging that the laborious and the burdensome exist and implying that we have to choose Him if we want to have rest, if we want to have an easy yoke and a burden that is light.

As I have traveled on my own spiritual journey, the question has been persistent and insistent. Is there, or should there be, a line that separates my control of my life from God's control of my life. Most of the time I have simply ignored the question and have gone about the business of life trying to do what was right. But the question kept returning; and through the years, my reflections on this matter have entangled me in a variety of provisional solutions. Some I tried on for brief periods of time, learning quickly that they were, ultimately, mere nonsense. E.G., God is in charge of everything and nothing I do really makes any difference. Other prospective solutions held more promise; but they too eventually seemed wanting and were discarded. E.G., God wants to be in charge of the big things; but the little things he leaves up to me. (I have to admit that this one was satisfying for a time.) Still, the question remained without a satisfactory answer. Where is the dividing line? God is in control and I have free will. The two seem sorely at odds.

A while back, having heard a sermon or read a commentary or some such thing, I pursued the notion that I should include God in everything that I do, informing him as to what I am about and why I am making the decisions I am. But logically I didn't succeed in making that work either. Eventually I had to acknowledge that that  arrangement simply placed me front and center in the decision making process and I remained in charge with some divine advice on the side. In other words, I did it my way.

My most recent exploration of the matter is one which I am still trying to reconcile with old habits and patterns of behavior. This particular method of harmonizing the two disparate realities --- God wants to control everything and I want to control my life --- rests on some basic propositions:

God doesn't want to control just a part of my life, he wants to control every little insignificant part of it. 

At my core, I want to be in control of my life and every single part of it.

God wants to control my life because, like the loving father with his son or grandfather with his grandson, he wants the very best for me in all things. He wants my yoke to be easy and my burden light. 

So how do I reconcile the seemingly oppositional realities? I'm trying to let my Lord control everything in my life by learning to listen to his guidance and direction in the now, rather than after the fact. In other words, I'm working on choosing to let God choose. I control the decision to let God be in complete control.