“If we do not know we are the beloved sons and daughters of God, we’re going to expect someone in the community to make us feel that way. They cannot. We’ll expect someone to give us that perfect, unconditional love. But community is not loneliness grabbing onto loneliness: “I’m so lonely, and you’re so lonely.” It’s solitude grabbing onto solitude: “I am the beloved; you are the beloved; together we can build a home.” Sometimes you are close, and that’s wonderful. Sometimes you don’t feel much love, and that’s hard. But we can be faithful. We can build a home together and create space for God and for the children of God.
We all have wounds. We all are in so much pain. It’s precisely this feeling of loneliness that lurks behind all our successes, that feeling of uselessness that hides under all the praise, that feeling of meaninglessness even when people say we are fantastic—that is what makes us sometimes grab onto people and expect from them an affection and love they cannot give.
If we want other people to give us something that only God can give, we become a demon. We say, “Love me!” and before you know it we become violent and demanding and manipulative. It’s so important that we keep forgiving one another—not once in a while, but every moment of life. Before you have had your breakfast, you have already had at least three opportunities to forgive people, because your mind is already wondering, What will they think about me? What will he or she do? How will they use me?
This is where celebration, the second discipline of community, comes in. If you can forgive that another person cannot give you what only God can give, then you can celebrate that person’s gift. Then you can see the love that person is giving you as a reflection of God’s great unconditional love. “Love one another because I have loved you first.” When we have known that first love, we can see the love that comes to us from people as the reflection of that. We can celebrate that and say, “Wow, that’s beautiful!”
To celebrate each other’s gifts means to accept each other’s humanity.
What counts in your life and mine is not successes but fruits. The fruits of your life you might not see yourself. The fruits of your life are born often in your pain and in your vulnerability and in your losses. The fruits of your life come only after the plow has carved through your land. God wants you to be fruitful! The question is not, “How much can I still do in the years that are left to me?” The question is, “How can I prepare myself for total surrender so my life can be fruitful?”
