Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

On Extra Baggage, Making Peace with Mistakes and Cutting Emotional Losses

By

St James the Great

So I fly on EasyJet to the Costa Blanca on a retreat at El Palmeral –though a normal heritage airline like BA would have cost the same, the timings are more convenient.

 Though this may change as I grow older, I normally don’t put a high premium on great comfort for short flights. I am a cat, I find a bubble of internal peace and internal comfort in most circumstances (though I don’t do well with claustrophobic surroundings, or being in the middle seat.)

 So I have the choice of paying £17 to take 3 extra kilos in my checked luggage, or taking a generous carry-on for free. Which I would need to buy. But we already own 4 carry-ons for 4 people, and solving problems and desires by throwing money at them leads to clutter.

 So I pay the £17, but when I pack, it’s over the permissible 23 kg. So I stuff all the extra books into my backpack, books which I treat as road maps in my life’s pilgrimage—a spiritual book I am reading for inspiration; a literary memoir I am reading to write better; a practical memoir I am reading to live better etc.; my Bible, my journal etc. Kilos worth!

It is a cumbersome weight– and I am sad as I stagger through the cavernous halls of Gatwick with my spiritual, literary and intellectual aspirations on my back.

Yeah, I made the wrong decision. The £17 for extra luggage was money thrown away with nothing to show for it. I should have bought the biggest allowable cabin with wheels because we’d eventually wear out our luggage, or give it to the kids, one of whom will be leaving to university this autumn.

I am trying a 12 step programme, Overeaters Anonymous (which I have not yet got the hang of). It includes praying and asking God for wisdom over every decision, eating and otherwise. And I am frustrated because I did pray, but somehow still made the wrong decision!!

My husband Roy and I love to get things right every time, and neither of us are gentle with ourselves or each other when we get things wrong. I reproach myself as I take each heavy step, a mile probably, staggering under the weight of knowledge!

* * *

And then I remember that I had decided to be a positive girl, since life is short.

Mistakes and loss and waste are part of being human—part of being limited finite beings. We will grow wiser, God willing and make better decisions—but since only God is all-wise, all of us will make mistakes, and experience loss and waste  as long as we live. Alas!!

Socrates, who was one of the wisest men ever known, made mistakes. When his enemies–the envious, the ignorant and the threatened—sentenced him to execution by drinking hemlock, his friends pleaded with him to flee.

But he refused. If he fled Athens, he knew he would ask pointed, inconvenient questions wherever he went, and so get into trouble wherever he went. He had voluntarily chosen to live in Athens and submit himself to the social contract. To flee would negate his life’s choices to date. And he was a philosopher, and believed a true philosopher should not fear death.

So despite all his friends weeping around him, he chose physical death rather than a choice which negated all he had taught and valued when physically alive—a choice many martyrs make.

He drank the hemlock. It was an honourable decision, but a wrong one, most people would say–his friends then, and his admirers now.

* * *

Okay, let’s look at a spiritual giant. Luke records “a prophet named Agabus   took Paul’s belt, bound his own hands and feet, and said, “Thus says the Holy Spirit, ‘So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man who owns this belt, and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.’”

12 Now when we heard these things, both we and those from that place pleaded with him not to go up to Jerusalem. 13 Then Paul answered, “What do you mean by weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus”.

Paul does not say that he has prayed and been led to make this decision. It appears to be a unilateral, and perhaps hot-headed decision.

He is indeed arrested, and, I believe mistakenly and impulsively, appeals to Caesar.   Who happened to be Nero. Big mistake. He is confined to the Mamertine Dungeoun. He will never be free again.

Should he have listened to the prophet who gave him a warning from the Holy Spirit; and listened to the counsel of his Christian friends? I believe so.

Spiritual giants can make mistakes.

But in the Mamertine dungeon, he wrote letters which comfort me when I feel a little bit crazy. As they have comforted billions of Christians through the ages.

God can redeem anything. It’s as if God says, “Uh-oh, plot twist. Paul should have listened to wiser counsel. And Anita made a mistake. Now let me take those crooked lines, the shattered pieces of Plan A, and make of them Plan B even more beautiful than Plan A, if they will co-operate. Because I love creating new things.”

* * *

Even  intellectual giants like Socrates and spiritual giants like Paul get things wrong.

So what’s the best course of action once you’ve realized that you have made a mistake?

Cut your emotional losses. Quickly.

Thank God for the good stuff. In this case, for the strength to walk a mile or so with a heavy backpack. For the fact that I’ve learned it’s foolish to pay for extra luggage. Best get the biggest allowable carry-on, and stuff it with books. And, definitely, pack light in future.

* * *

As my life accelerates (two of my prayers for this year were acceleration and exponential—was I crazy?) I am doing more, and am naturally getting busier. Much goes right, but there is a greater potential for mistakes and loss,  just as a car on the motorway is more likely to get scraped than a car in the garage.

And I am learning not to allow what goes wrong to spoil a day or an hour. In Cambodia, as I was rushing, the zip of my suitcase broke, so I left it unlocked in my hotel room, with—yuck, my wallet in it!!– with all my extra cash. I had $70 taken from my wallet, and was annoyed, but decided to shrug it off and not let it spoil a very interesting trip.

 Yes, that’s the way to live, cut your emotional losses if you can’t cut your physical losses, and go through your day smilingly.

* * *

When I was 17, I wanted to be a nun, and joined Mother Teresa’s convent. Her three cardinal spiritual values were absolute surrender, loving trust and cheerfulness.

I keep coming back to them– loving trust and cheerfulness when you make mistakes. Learn what you have to learn, be grateful for the goodness that remains despite your mistakes, and go trudging on–with the biggest smile you can muster!

When Spiritual Giftedness Outstrips Love: There’s Hope!

By

Michaelangelo’s Painting of the Conversion of Paul

When Roy and I are cross with each other and have to drive places together, we pop a CD of the epistles of Apostle Paul into the car. It’s not safe to argue and drive, trapped in a car with no place to escape, while your adrenalin mounts–and so I don’t!

And sometimes, Paul is sublime, and his words and vision and adulterated brilliance wash over me like a vision of better, quieter, noble lands—lands open to me, lands of which I just have to claim citizenship of, and then behave like a citizen. And I quieten down, and let these lovely words and ideas wash over me, and sometimes drop the bone over which we were contending.

And sometimes, Paul is so combative and sarcastic—oh how biting his sarcasm, how utter his contempt for fools!!—that I just have to laugh. It’s an affectionate laughter. And then Roy says wryly, “He sounds a bit like you!”  (On a bad day!)

Paul was a grumpy guy; he did not tolerate fools gladly, or the illogical. I think we would have enjoyed chatting, and I think he would have had very sharp words for me, if we disagreed!

* * *

I recently listened to the whole of Romans on my iPod on one of these days on which I felt a bit discombobulated, and wanted sanity to return swiftly, and I listened to 1 Corinthians today.

Contentious, argumentative, dismissive, inspired, sublime! Loved it.

And then I come to its most famous chapter. If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

And I laugh. There are very few people on the planet so superlatively gifted, but I happened to have been listening to the words of one of them. Who did Paul know who could speak in the tongues and angels? Who had the gift of prophecy, and could understand mysteries and knowledge, and a faith that could begin moving the Roman Empire? Who owned nothing? Who subjected his body to unbelievable hardships?

Who was Paul describing but himself?

* * *

And human nerves can only be stretched so far. Then there is payback and it is painful.

Speaking and writing in the tongues of men and angels, prophesying, divining mysteries, pursuing and penning knowledge, the rigours of faith and asceticism—all these cause a natural reaction, overstrained nerves—and resultant grumpiness.

So I read it and think, “Oh Paul, sweetheart, you’re being too hard on yourself.”

* * *

But then, I wonder. I too have met those who are superlatively gifted, intellectually and spiritually. And if they are arrogant, or “full of themselves,” in that vivid phrase, or pompous or manipulative, or have time only for those they can use—they leave me cold. Utterly unimpressed!!

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am nothing. Sounds extreme, doesn’t it, but isn’t that how we rate people? Who has time for people who are impatient and unkind, envious, boastful and arrogant, rude and angry? No matter how brilliant they are! There is an instinctive recoil. We might rate their intellect or giftedness highly—but we do not rate them highly.

Patient, kind, not jealous, not boastful, not proud. Not rude, not self-seeking, not easily angered. Forgetting wrongs.

How many of us can read this as a character sketch of ourselves?

What then should we do? We who use words well, and get weary in the penning of them? We who listen in to the spirit of God, and have prophetic insight, and leave our sessions of intense prayer a little exhausted, with our nerves a bit fragile? Who strive to understand spiritual mysteries and spiritual knowledge, and tire in the pursuit? Who pay the price of stepping out in faith, pay the price of our generosity with our time which makes our life more difficult, more challenging, more of a strain, sometimes?

Oh, we’ve got to the heights, the Omega of the spiritual life, and then find ourselves failing in the Alpha Beta of it, in patience and kindness and humility and consideration and keeping our temper—things, come on, which are just good manners!!

What then should we do?

* * *

Yes, there is hope for us.

I love Rolland Baker’s account of his healing from cerebral malaria and advanced dementia. Heidi Baker in her book There is Always Enough recounts her healing from dyslexia and chronic fatigue.

Yes, just as only God can heal the malfunctioning, worn-out cells in our brains or bodies, only He can heal the callouses in our hearts, the atrophied bits, where warm blood does not flow, and which are, consequently, slowly withering.

Only he who brought the dead to life can heal our small, cold and selfish hearts.

So do it, Lord! Create in me  a clean heart, oh Lord, and renew a right spirit within me. (Ps 51:10). Take out of my breast the heart of stone, and give me a heart of flesh. (Ez. 11:19).

Amen.