which no tribulation can wear out;
give us an upright heart,
which no unworthy purpose may tempt aside.
Bestow upon us also, O Lord our God,
understanding to know You,
diligence to seek You,
wisdom to find You
and a faithfulness that may finally embrace You;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.
—Thomas Aquinas, d. 1274
Meditation 6
And the man and his wife were both naked, and were not ashamed.
—Genesis 2:25
Where do you hunger for righteousness?
We have all seen it; at the beach, or lake, or perhaps the public pool—a toddler strips down to his or her bare essentials and struts with all the pride of a peacock with its train of feathers in full flare, not a care in the world, not a lick of shame. When I see this, frankly, I get a bit nostalgic, perhaps even a bit jealous. Living over half a century, I have plenty in my life about which I am ashamed. When I see a shame-less child, there is a part of me that wishes I could go back to that season of innocence.
We are told that God’s original intent was for us to live without shame; to have a footloose and carefree lightness to life that is not burdened by the companions of guilt and regret. Shame became the gift that kept on giving. Its value for us may be as a vehicle to God’s gift of forgiveness in response to our feelings of guilt and regret.
Without shame, we would not know when we have stepped out of line. Without guilt we would not know when we have hurt ourselves, or our loved ones. Without regret, we would trample all over the gift of life with our perpetual tendency (also known as original sin) to fall, stumble, and sin.
Mark Twain once quipped, “Man is the only animal that blushes. Or needs to!”
So when you see that young one toddling away, perhaps diaper in hand, and you get that internal nudge just to go back to a day without shame, take it not so much as condemnation, but as a road sign, pointing you to the One who can fill you when you are hungry to do the right thing.
Where, in your life, do you hunger for righteousness? In what ways are you feeding that hunger? Will you let God do that for you?
A Prayer
O good Jesu, word of the Father, the brightness of the Father’s glory, Whom angels desire to behold; teach us to do Your will; that guided by Your good Spirit, we may come to that blessed city where there is everlasting day and all are of one spirit; where there is certain security and secure eternity and eternal tranquility and quiet felicity and happy sweetness and sweet pleasantness; where You, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, are alive and reign, one God for ever and ever. Amen.
—St. Gregory, Bishop of Sicily, d. 628
Meditation 7
Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves. They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.” He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?”
—Genesis 3:7–11
Is it time to fess up?
Almost everything about it was wrong. I had trained as a scuba diver, and had several practice dives in various freshwater springs. But this was my first open water dive with three of my fraternity brothers. We took a small boat (wrong) three miles out into the Gulf (wrong). While people knew we were going, no one really knew exactly where (wrong). We rented equipment we did not thoroughly check out (wrong). We did not take a dive master with us (wrong). We split up in pairs (wrong). When my friend and I descended sixty feet to the bottom, we could not find a place to secure the anchor so we left that to our comrades (wrong).
So now, working in reverse order—my equipment went on the blink and began free-flowing air from my respirator. I was running out of air quickly, more quickly than I thought. We began to swim back to where the anchor “was” (gone by the way). As we followed the track it left in the sand, I took my last breath before the air went completely out. My friend and I began to buddy-breathe to the top. When we did pop up, our boat was nowhere to be seen (no anchor means a free-floating boat). We were floating three miles out, land was a distant sight, no air in the tanks, and no signs of help.
The fact that I am telling this story means we did make it back (much longer story). I remember when we were pulled into the boat, I flopped on the deck, let out a big sigh, and said, “Let’s just go back home.” I suppose I could have blamed a lot of people for that pickle I was in, but really, the only one to blame was little old me.
In the Garden, God laid out the rules. “Here is a gift . . . use it . . . enjoy it . . . go here . . . don’t go there . . . as long as you do that, you’ll love it here . . . you’ll have no shame . . . cross the line and all kinds of bad things will begin to happen.” Of course, we know how it turned out. Tempted to “be like God,”
While the gift of guilt may nudge us toward innocence, at times we have a tendency to sidestep the truth and blame our wrong choices, our sins, on others. As soon as God began to question Adam, he pointed to Eve; Eve pointed to the snake, and so on. As soon as they did it, they knew what they did was wrong, and rather than fess up to God, they sought to hide both literally (covering themselves) and verbally (evading God’s cross-examination).
The best way to deal with an infection is to spot it, name it, and then find the right antibiotic to treat the sickness. The best way to deal with our sins is to name them. We must come to terms with the truth that our actions, thoughts, and feelings may be a source of pain and brokenness in our relationship with God, with others, and even ourselves.
Adam and Eve got caught with proverbial hand-in-cookie-jar disease, followed closely by foot-in-mouth disease. How much better it would have been just to come clean! Eventually they did, of course, and when they did, they had to pay the price of consequences for their