"No" and "Yes"

Dear one,

Within the last several weeks, I offered the following: “Life (and the Christian life) is much more a marathon than a sprint.” Admittedly, I’ve never run a marathon, and most certainly I’ve never been a “sprinter,” either literally or figuratively. However, what I offered I believe is true: perseverance is essential, whether in the athletic world, or any other disciplined realm. For instance, we are well familiar with the expression: “ninety-nine percent perspiration, one percent inspiration”; or with the underlying moral message of “the little engine who could.” Dogged perseverance seems an essential requirement, either in running a race or in finishing well life’s journey.

For we Americans, this thought resonates deeply: many of us are goal-oriented activists with high expectations; and whether we know it or not, the word “perseverance” has at its heart the word “severe.” When combined with its prefix, it conveys the sense of a thorough-going or strict severity: to strictly abide certain actions, irrespective any delay or difficulty.

And yet, with regard to perseverance, I believe a necessary corollary exists: at moments we need to say “yes.” Of course,  “no” is inherent within “perseverance,” that is, in order to persevere, we must say “no” to those things and/or persons that might distract us from finishing the race or completing the journey. Nonetheless, our saying “no” must not preclude our saying “yes” to those necessary things and/or persons, who will aid us in our focused pursuits. If the journey of faith requires perseverance, it also requires oasis-moments of quiet reflection: moments when we say “no” to the frenetic pace, “no” to the strictures, and “yes” to the solace, which nourishes our hearts, minds, and bodies.

In Mark 1:35-39 we read of Jesus doing exactly that: After a full day and night of caring for those who were ill in heart, mind, and body, well before sunrise—in the wee hours of the morn—He awoke and stole to “a desert place.” There He prayed. There He knew the refreshment of the One, who knew Him as no other. There He was alone but not lonely. Moreover, not even His disciples knew of His whereabouts: presumably they expended great effort to find Him. Very likely they greeted Him with: “What have you been doing? Everyone seeks you.”

What had He been doing? Persevering. In this instance He had said “no” to His disciples, and “yes” to His Father. “No” and “yes”: simple words, their use essential to persistent perseverance.

Still learning to say “no” and “yes,”

            Stan