Oh, the smell of leather. Leather from the shiny pair of shoes that you just bought — minutes ago. Your hands shake with excitement as you remove the new item from its box. At last, you have something new. All those sleepless nights finally paid off. All the months of hard work in the office. You deserve this — this something new!
We all revel in the pleasure of having something new.
New shoes. New bag. New clothes. New friends. New opportunities. New location. Anything that’s new makes us quiver with excitement. Our hearts leap for that new assignment at work. Our eyes look for a new face in an old crowd.
It’s normal to desire new things. Perhaps that’s how we were created…perhaps that’s why Eve wanted to taste the “new” fruit?
Yet, no matter how deep our desire for new stuff, we end up with the old ones. Why? It’s hard to part with our old ones because they have so much sentimental value and comfort attached to them. There’s a price we need to pay. We have to let go.
We wish we could acquire new healthy eating habits but we can’t give up desserts and our familiar Cheetos and Fritos.
We wish we could stop our vices but we can’t give up our drinking because it feels like our life depend on everything that comes with it — the barkada, the camaraderie, the momentary high.
We wish we could have a new life but we can’t undergo the painful process of death.
The price is high for new things. And is higher still for those that happen not to be “things”. That’s why while it’s hard enough to acquire new clothes, new shoes, new bags, it’s harder still to acquire new perspectives, new habits, new skills, a new heart, and a new life.
And perhaps that’s the reason we keep staying the same. Because — plain and simple — deep inside, we don’t like change. Change is painful. Change is dying.
And so it’s death that we avoid at all cost. It’s the painful process of the death journey that we dread. We avoid the very thing that we need, to have the very thing that we really want. And so, we stay the same and “rot” — so to speak.
But change is resurrection — rising up different.
Jesus could not have experienced resurrection if he had never undergone death. The tremendous suffering he faced when he went through his death journey only became bearable to him because he was helped — by the Father.
The same with us. We need all the help we can get. Our fragile bodies will not be enough to carry the cross. Our weak character will prevent us from being in the place we need to be to accept being crucified. We need enormous help from outside of ourselves.
We can never glory in resurrection without going through the only path available — death. But we cannot have a successful death journey apart from getting strength from its only supplier — God.
The death journey begins by my being able to say:
This is the reality of who I am — I cannot stay the same.
It’s my pride that makes it hard to fix this relationship. Because it’s difficult for me to forgive -— but I must — for I have been on the receiving end of myself, too.
I tend to tell people what to do because I think I know more than they. But why, when I don’t have a perfect track record? I’ve made mistakes, too.
I get hurt when people don’t give me what I want, but it means I don’t know how to trust the perspective and the authority of others.
And on and on and on.
So I’ve decided that I want to glory in resurrection; so I start my death journey now…
And so…
I will move towards forgiving and letting go of my hurts.
I will ask for strength to admit my mistakes.
I will practice the habit of being quick to apologize.
I will gently tell others to follow the line, but should they resist, I will allow them to pass me without initiating a heated fight.
I will feel sorry for them instead that they don’t yet know how to submit to the authority of the land.
I will be patient with those who are slow.
In short, I will begin to die.
Cecilia stands in front of her classroom. She sits down with her students one-on-one when they ask — to pass on whatever she learns. She describes herself as an apprentice — hoping one day to be an apprentice-maker.
