Going Through the Motions

I don't know if it's still a big thing, but for a while anyways there was this huge push for intentionality, "being present"...I think "mindfulness" was the main buzzword.  There are special journals made for this, books, probably apps.


I remember years ago having a conversation with a friend where she was talking about how important this whole idea was.  It was, I think, one of the last conversations we had.  Me and my big mouth made the mistake of disagreeing, based on an epiphany I'd recently had about how powerful routine really was.

But, the sentiment is generally a good one, though, isn't it?  Shouldn't we pay attention to what we're doing?  Aren't things more meaningful if we're fully engaged in them?  Well, sure.  If I'm sitting and talking to someone, and it's clear that their mind is elsewhere and they're not really listening to what I'm saying, that hurts.  And if I were to go in for surgery, I'd for sure want my doctor to not be daydreaming about his upcoming whale-watching trip while operating on my spleen.


Attention is a tricky thing.  Everyone's mind can wander, but for some it's less like a hobbit not keeping his feet and being swept off somewhere, and more like a 3-month-old puppy chasing a swarm of butterflies in a field.  If things must be done mindfully to be worth anything, then practically nothing that I accomplish has any real value.

But the thing is, there are SO many things that we do out of habit, by rote, mindLESSly.  Brushing your teeth is perhaps my favorite example.  Or showering.  Do you really stop to think about which quadrant of your mouth you're scrubbing, or what order to follow in your shower cleansing routine? ("Ok, I'm done with the shampoo...what next?  Oh, right....rinse.")  No, I'll bet you're thinking about something completely different.  After all, most of the best ideas occur to people in the shower, it seems.   And yet...when you step out, you're clean, just the same.



Stuff gets done when it's automatic.  In fact, things are almost more likely to be done, and done efficiently, when they're routine.  It's the little day-to-day things that shape us the most, I think, more-so than the once-in-a-lifetime trip to Paris, or a breathtaking view from the Grand Canyon.

So, there's good and bad.  Mindless eating can lead to an entire bag of chips (plus dip) disappearing, mindless wandering can lead to being lost, and mindless worship...

Right, so this is the kicker, and the thing that I perhaps wrestle with the most, but also find comforting (but should I?)

The Liturgy is very much routine.  It's (mostly) the same from week to week, it's predictable, it gets etched into your mind, and it quickly becomes rote.  I'm not quite there yet, but many people who have grown up Lutheran don't even need the hymnal for anything but the actual hymns themselves.  "The Lord be with you." "And with thy spirit."  "Our Father who art in heaven..."

Now, something can be memorized and come automatically, and yet not be done mindlessly.  But it does make it easier for the mind to wander when you don't have to concentrate on what comes next.  And to go through it all while thinking about your to-do list, to let God's Word go in one ear and out the other because you're meditating instead on some interpersonal friction or what color to paint your walls is not only tragic, it's in a very real sense a despising of God's Word, and thus sin. 

But on the flip side, to emphasize that it doesn't really "count" unless I'm "present" leads to utter despair.  It puts the emphasis on me and what I do, as though what goes on inside of me is what truly matters, as though God's Word is impotent without my intentionality an focus added to it.  If the Divine Service is only efficacious if I'm paying attention, then I'm royally screwed.

One of the reasons I've been so drawn to the Liturgy and was so quick to embrace it, was that the repetition causes it to become so deeply ingrained that even those who suffer from dementia and can't remember their own children, will often be able to go through the service with the pastor at their bedside.  As someone who struggles with memory already, and has all kinds of mental health issues, this is very appealing, and comforting.  

And above all, though, is the truth of the efficacy of the Word.  God's Word does things, not because I'm focused on it, but because it is Him speaking, and it is powerful on its own, apart from anything that I add to it (as though I could add anything to it.)  When I go up to the rail, it is Christ's blood that I receive, even if I'm in pain and sleep-deprived, and it was all I could do to a) get to the church, and b) trudge up the aisle.  Even if I was a wreck, thinking only of myself and my own misery, and only 10% of what went on in the service I actually paid attention to...I still receive Him, still have forgiveness poured down my throat.  


[Edit: Don't misunderstand me; I'm not suggesting that receiving Communion without discerning the body and blood of Christ is ok.  I'm not trying to paint a picture of someone who is completely checked-out and doesn't care at all about what is going on, and eats and drinks as though it were just bread and wine.  What I AM trying to convey, is the Believer who wants to pay attention but is failing, but who yet knows what is going on, and has faith in God's Word that says "This is my body, given for you."

Picture the sleep-deprived mother of young children, trying to herd toddlers to the rail, with a crying infant on the hip, coming forward to receive Christ.  How much focus has she been able to give?  How deeply has she pondered the mysteries this morning?  

From the Small Catechism:  "Who receives this sacrament worthily?  Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training. But that person is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words: 'Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.'  But anyone who does not believe these words or doubts them is unworthy and unprepared, for the words 'for you' require all hearts to believe."]




Would it be better if I were whole-heart-and-soul involved?  For sure, yes.  But even when I'm weak and weary and a distractable mess, He is still faithful and true.

All that is needed, at the end of the day, is faith...and He gives that to us, too.

Coming to the rail, conversely, having paid perfect attention to all that went on, and yet rejecting Christ and His work on my behalf...this latter case would be far, far worse than the former, and indeed would be to one's spiritual detriment.  



So, I guess...the fight against distractions is necessary and must continue.  But also establishing routines that reinforce and anchor us in the Truth are incredibly valuable - and dare I say crucial - as well. 

Everyone has their little "liturgies," I suppose, in their daily lives and especially in relationships.  My husband and I have a little back-and-forth right before going to sleep.  It may be that I'm angry or hurt and don't FEEL like I love him one night, but I'll say it just the same, because I know it's true.  Or I might be thinking about the book I was just reading before I turned out the light and say the words without any meaning or emotion behind them.  Even though in those instances I'm just "going through the motions," the words still hold meaning, they still convey a truth, they still uphold what we've built together.  

Would it be better if I really felt it in the pit of my stomach, looked him clearly and directly in the eyes, and spoke the words with inflection, while pondering our 20+ years together?  Well, sure.  If I did, would he receive it differently?  Maybe, maybe not.  Is the single impassioned "I love you" more valuable than the years and years of steadfast and consistent words whispered half-asleep in the dark?  I'm leaning towards no.  Let the mindful, emotional one lead to the dull, boring, repetitive other.  

Let's not ignore each other or take one another for granted in THAT way, but at the same time...love that can be relied on must be in some sense taken for granted, assumed, trusted.  

Paying attention is one very valuable way to love each other, but even going on auto-pilot can be an expression of love: I've built you into my life to such an extent that I'm shaping my very routines around you.  I looked at a map, determined to make you my destination, charted my course, and set the gauges accordingly.  


But wait, what about "ex opere, operato"? 

Oh, we're back to theology, are we?  Well, I think the concern there is things being meritorious, "by the outward act," as though it is the physical act of doing something that makes it salvific, apart from anything internal.  The way I understand it is, it's considering things apart from FAITH, as though I can earn God's favor through my actions, through my performing a certain ceremony or what have you.  Justification is by grace alone through faith alone, and it is this lack of faith that is the problem, not so much my lack of "being present."  We receive from God, and His gifts don't depend on the state of our emotions.

We are all by nature Enthusiasts and Pietists, wanting to emphasize the inner and the emotional, and downplay the external and the physical.

So, yeah...I'll go through the motions sometimes.  Often.  When doing so involves turning my attention away from God and His Word to other things, then I'll repent, I'll confess my sin, and I will continue to strive to do better, to pay attention, to meditate on it as that which is most needful.  But I'll also find consolation in the fact that things still happen, even without my focus...and I'll try to lash myself even more tightly to the Truth by adding in more routine based around it, more repetition, more tradition that reinforces and drives it deeper.

Repetitio mater studiorum est. 


-M



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