I got an invitation to a party today, but it didn’t state a date or time for arrival.
It also said, “The gift of your presence is gift enough.” That’s always a pressure reliever when invited to someone’s special event.
I tossed the invitation aside as I rushed through my long to-do list, and soon obstacles thwarted my work plans. Five new texts demanded immediate answers, and yet another problem e-mail required attention. Then my eye fell on the invitation.
The front depicted the most beautiful ocean scene. The seaside is one of my peaceful happy places. I picked up the invitation again. I wished I knew when I could attend this big event! The paper in my hand practically called out, saying, “Don’t forget about the party! It’s going to be great! Everyone who is anyone will be there.”
I let go of my busy agenda and examined the card more closely. That’s when I noticed that it was addressed to “my dear and true friend.” For a split second I feared the invitation was meant for someone else. But no. The greeting card was from Jesus, and the venue was heaven.
Of course he wants me! I’ve been invited to the greatest possible celebration: eternity. We are all invited, but we have to say yes to Jesus and let ourselves be loved.
And I can’t help wondering: will I be ready when the time comes? Just this week I had an insight: although Jesus knew his time had come, he probably would have loved staying with his friends a little longer. Therefore, I can be at peace with the possibility that I will leave myriad incomplete projects when I get to enter the party. This knowledge consoles me.
I imagine reading between the lines of what the Gospels record Jesus telling his Abba in the Garden of Olives: “Dad! Not yet! I have so much more I want to do! Can I get a little more time? I mean, I will do whatever you want, but it would be great if I could just have more days here to tell people about your love. Oh! Life is so short! And time flies. Is it really true that I only get three years in public ministry? But OK. I know you will work all things out for good. You always have. Dad, I freely want what you want. I know you won’t leave me alone.”
If my final summons arrived today, I imagine I’d say, “No! Not yet!” Distractions pull me from keeping my eyes on my “happily ever after” destination.
Jesus showed the ultimate detachment from having things all wrapped up in a nice complete package by submitting to the Crucifixion. The Letter to the Hebrews says Jesus withstood agonies on his way to death “for the sake of the joy that was set before him” (12:2). He knew that suffering was a pathway to God’s big-picture plan for the world. It doesn’t mean it was easy, fun, or free of disappointment and frustration. God, who is love, who is a lover actively loving, invites us to anticipate the party without giving us any assurances that we’ll complete everything before that.
I feel such freedom when I let go of worrying about whether I will finish every project. If I’m able to live in that freedom, I bet my life will attract others to want to live like this too. We are awaiting the blessed hope, as we say at Mass, and that includes coming to a place of peace with leaving things incomplete.
Photo by Mark Stosberg on Unsplash.