You see, we are called to greatness, each and every one of us. We are called to be sons and daughters of God. That instinct—in Gatsby, in Millennials, in anyone—isn’t wrong. But power, wealth, and fame don’t make a person great. Love does that—love for God and love for one another. Likewise, we’re not born sons and daughters of God. We’re made that way by baptism. It’s a gift, not a given.
If we assume the gift without realizing how gracious it is, and then pursue greatness by trying to blaze through the sky on an ever-upward trajectory, we will crash and burn. There will be no life. There will be only death.
If it’s life we want, then it’s love we need to pursue—not the type of self-seeking, self-satisfied love the world glorifies, not the type of love which looks to another human person for meaning and fulfillment—but love which denies itself for the sake of the other and which knows true fulfillment and meaning can be found in only one Person, Jesus Christ...
Or, to put it another way, it's the difference between the Dark Lord of the Horcruxes and the Master of the Deathly Hallows:
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart
will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure
of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to
an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries;
avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of
your selfishness. But in that casket-safe, dark, motionless, airless-it
will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable,
impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least the
risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside heaven you can
be perfectly safe from all dangers and perturbations of love is hell. (C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves)
No comments:
Post a Comment