Too much like the real thing

*Related to our talk last week of following Christ from afar … consider:

Abbot Peregrine, a Benedictine monk in the 1600s, is having an ongoing conversation with a well-intentioned friend who is criticizing the Abbot’s insistence on such a brutally low standard of living for himself and his brothers.  The friend’s critique is that poverty simply means renouncing ownership, dressing in simplicity, and saying of nothing “this is mine.”  But, the friend insists, certain pleasures are simply the bounties of God’s immense kindliness, for there must be some pleasure in life!  The line that grabs me is this:

His friend says, “Moderation! You ask too much! Your self-imposed penury is not holy poverty.  It is like the poverty of the world.  It is …”

“Too must like the real thing, you mean?” Abbot Peregrine interjects wryly.

Too much like the real thing. 

Too much like the real thing.  The friend’s plea was moderation!  Moderation.  While moderation is a great plan to follow in dietary habits, it is nowhere given as a prescribed manner of  following Christ. In A Realistic Look at Living on Less we talked about how going without actually feels like going without. Humbling ourselves actually feels … well, humbling. We readily embrace–in theory–that suffering for Christ is part of our call as Christ-followers, but then when someone is actually suffering we are quick to insist that it’s not from God. Peregringe embraced a life that made him poor in Spirit, making outward choices to lead his heart into a greater dependence on God.

My point is this: When we settle for less than the real thing, when we settle for merely the appearance of humility or giving or faith, we miss out on the joy, the grace, the favor, the fellowship with God that only comes through really entering into His suffering, His pain, His love.  Those who are poor, not on the outside, but on the inside are those who possess the Kingdom (Matthew 5:3). There is no inherent virtue in having a less crowded house, but it can lead to a less crowded heart.

{Pondering these thoughts today … thanks for pondering with me.}