Today's readings speak of famine imposed upon those who do injustice to the weak, and they remind us that God's word is spiritual food, as essential as bread or water.
I've been in my own self-imposed spiritual famine. As always, I struggle with the discipline of making time for prayer, reflection, and worship. But on a more fundamental level, I struggle with my identity as a Catholic. My adamant dissent from so many of the words and actions of the institutional Church leaves me wondering if I just don't belong anymore—and the response I hear (both directly and implicitly) from many of its members when I voice those doubts is clear: No, I don't belong. Go elsewhere.
I'm in a spiritual no man's land. So far, I can't bring myself to completely abandon the Catholic faith, which feels like such an essential part of my identity. I'm not pursuing other spiritual avenues, but I'm also not practicing the rituals and faith traditions that have enriched my life. So I've left myself pretty empty, spiritually, without a clear idea of where to go.
Among other spiritual pursuits, I've neglected this blog, which has been a tremendous source of strength for me. It's been an exercise that allows me to go directly to the word of God, to encounter God more personally, without external distractions. And this, I need to remember, provides the foundation of my faith.
Tonight, when I did turn back to the readings of the day, the reminder that God's word is life was sort of a "Well, duh" moment for me. By neglecting my daily encounter with God's words, I've been hurting only myself.
I'm still not sure what to do, as far as worship is concerned. But tonight I'm reminded that thinking about the life of Jesus and the words that inspired and sustained his ministry of justice and peace fills me up and brings me life. This is where I begin—it's like the healthy breakfast that will get me through the first part of a big journey. Where it leads, I don't yet know. But I'll get nowhere if I don't start. Again.
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