This morning, I’m being the typical Sunday morning, “Bad Boy”, that I am. Right now, I’m sitting outside one of my favorite coffee shops having this morning’s espresso. A little latter, I will head back home, a trip of five or so miles on my recumbent trike. Yes, I’m sitting outside, because I’m still too warm to go inside. My hanky is on the table since I had to dry sweat in those critical spots so my glasses won’t slide on down my nose. Should I sweat much on the way home, which I’m certain I will, I’ll take a quick shower before trekking off to St. Herman’s, for church.
That “Bad Boy” thing is my chronically choosing to have some coffee before I technically should. Now, before you begin cheering my breaking some religious rule, bear in mind that I support such rules. My support is not because I accept that keeping the rule(s) makes me right or breaking any makes me wrong. Rules, as I have learned them across all my years, are not there to make me right by keeping them but rather what enables me, step-by-step, to become what I am striving to be. Why then do I break this simple and as I understand it elegant rule?
During the hour and a half or so of liturgy I persistently keep the Jesus Prayer rolling over my trivial thought life. I insistence on living this quiet fashion of drawing closer to the “No Thing”, who is beckoning all of us. I strive everyday after a 10-12 mile run on my tricycle to sit for an hour with my chotki in hand, my eyes closed and typically with my cat in my lap repeating this simple prayer, “Jesus have mercy upon me a sinner.”
This isn’t justification for my sipping coffee every morning. Rather, my sipping is simply a constant wakeup call. My not staying home supports my waking up. By striving to ride a few miles every morning completes the effort to keep myself from vegging out during the hour. None of this is justification, it is only the fashion I have pleasurably learned to keep moving in a direction I aspire to live.