Fr Mark Schultz

Dear Friend,

I thought of writing today some paeon to one of my favorite grumpy Anglicans, William Laud, the Archbishop of Canterbury who served under Saint Charles I, King and Martyr, and was beheaded by the Puritans in 1645. We commemorate Archbishop Laud today, and you can read more about him here.

But then I read this in our Gospel reading this morning, part of the story of the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000: “Jesus said to Philip, ‘Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’ He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do.” And I was struck by something wonderful in it.

Which is this: Jesus has given Philip a test he cannot fail. So often, when tests and challenges come to us in life, the first thing we think is—how do I beat this? How do I overcome it? How can I be right? How do I succeed? And with those thoughts come an inevitable wave of anxiety over what it might mean to not beat this or not overcome it, what it might mean to be wrong or to fail miserably. But Jesus here has taken that anxiety off the table. Failure or success is no longer the point. Because Jesus is going to do what Jesus has decided to do…which means that whatever it is, it’s bound to be amazing. Jesus has already chosen the right outcome of the dilemma, regardless of what Philip says or does—Philip’s not on the hook for that at all, and the successful resolution of the dilemma doesn’t on Philip’s competence in the least.

So how can we call this a test? What’s really being tested here? It’s certainly not Philip’s problem-solving skills—in fact, Philip suggests to Jesus that the problem of feeding the 5,000 is not a problem that can actually be solved, it's rationally insurmountable. And of course he’s right. But again, being right’s not the point. What’s being asked of Philip is whether or not he can move beyond his limited sense of what’s possible; whether or not Philip can relax into the work that Jesus is set on accomplishing; whether or not he can participate in that work simply by letting Jesus work in, through, by and around him.

What a superlative wonder! That all grace requires of us is that we receive it, that we allow it to work in us, that we let it pitch us toward the goodness and righteousness of God, that we relax into its embrace as it accomplishes in and through us the work it is determined to complete! And that Jesus has already done, has already won the victory…and has given it to us to share in by his grace, not because we get it right, not because we deserve it, not because we passed the test, not because we did or didn’t succeed, but for no other reason than that he loves us.

When we’re engaged in the trials and tests of this life, it is perhaps the most counter-intuitive thing to suggest that the first thing we might consider doing is relaxing into God’s grace, praying that God’s will be done and that we may become instruments of that will. But the reality is this: Jesus knows what he is going to do in our lives. And sometimes the real challenge—the real test—is whether or not we’re going to let him do it.

Under the Mercy,
Fr Mark+