We are not adrift; God steers our voyage

My seminary rector was fond of saying, “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.” Although we frequently quoted him for no other reason than to mimic his inimitable voice, we knew he was right.
With all that life proposes and places in our paths, it would be easy to consider ourselves adrift, bumped along aimlessly by what happens to us and the world around us. We ask ourselves, “Where am I headed? Does all this fit into some plan for me, some goal? Will life be merely a string of events with no purpose or destination?” We might begin to think that if indeed we have no final destination, it doesn’t matter how we live today.
Modern thought and custom often emphasize the here-and-now as the only ultimate reality, with little reference to long-term implications of present-day decisions. Some people see this as freedom, as setting their own course; but we must have the long view in order to understand and tackle present choices, trials, and temptations. However we might feel about the present moment — set adrift or self-confident — if we do not discover our destiny and set our lives firmly on the road that leads there, we will eventually lose hope and feel utterly alone. If we don’t know where we’re going, any road will get us there.
Providentially, as Advent approaches we are reminded that we do know where we’re going. We have a purpose, a goal, a destination and a destiny — and he is Jesus Christ.
The end of the world is a frequent focus of biblical readings at Mass this time of year. We should understand the word “end” in two ways: first, referring to the fact that some day this world will literally end; and second, “end” referring to the “goal” or “purpose” of life. Both meanings help us get a handle on the present and teach us that we are not aimlessly adrift, no matter what today’s events set before us. Through life’s opportunities and trials, united with Christ, our heavenly Father is leading us to eternal life.
Yes, this world will end; and yes, this world has a goal, a destiny. As St. Paul wrote, everything was created through Christ and for Christ, and everything is destined for Christ. The here-and-now is indeed very important, not on its own merit but precisely because of the destiny God has set for all creation. That destiny is the light with which we can see today, the compass to guide how we live today.
Christians don’t sit idly in this world, awaiting its literal end. We live now in a way that respects the divine destiny of all creation — treating each person with the dignity that is his or hers as a child of God; paying special attention to the most vulnerable and to the poor, whom Jesus singles out as especially beloved to him; serving as ambassadors of his peace and working to end conflict wherever we find it; living morally upright lives; growing in holiness through prayer and the sacraments.
These are the ingredients which, when lived out, point us squarely in the direction of the goal of our lives and unveil for us God’s presence. These are the ingredients of a hope-filled life, because they form a life filled with Christ.
We do not live such a life in a vacuum. We have trials and struggles, some of which can be quite disheartening. Christ helps us see that he is at work even there — quietly, mysteriously, perhaps painfully — but at work nonetheless, showing the way to the resolution of all things in his love.
I find it interesting to read how ancient writers described the reason for hope in the midst of the here-and-now.
St. Macarius wrote, “Christ … came to till the soil of mankind devastated by sin. He assumed a body and, using the cross as his plowshare, cultivated the barren soul of man. He removed the thorns and thistles which are the evil spirits and pulled up the weeds of sin … And when he had plowed the soul with the wood of the cross, he planted in it a most lovely garden of the Spirit, that could produce for its Lord and God the sweetest and most pleasant fruit of every kind.”
St. Augustine wrote, “Let us sing alleluia here on earth, while we still live in anxiety, so that we may sing it one day in heaven in full security … God is faithful, says holy Scripture, and he will not allow you to be tried beyond your strength … You have entered upon a time of trial but you will come to no harm — God’s help will bring you through it safely. You are like a piece of pottery, shaped by instruction, fired by tribulation.”
Jesus is the Way that leads to our destination, and he is that destination. The Church is the bark (ship) of Peter on which we sail along Jesus’ Way under the breath of the Holy Spirit. We are his fields, plowed by his cross to sprout the seed that is his Word. We are vessels of clay — fragile and prone to break — but made nonetheless by his hand, according to his precise design, and destined to be filled with him forever.
Not adrift at all, but going somewhere — to God, our creator and destiny.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him c/o Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock AR 72217.

Latest from From the Bishop

We are not adrift; God steers our voyage

My seminary rector was fond of saying, “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.” Although we frequently quoted him for no other reason than to mimic his inimitable voice, we knew he was right.
With all that life proposes and places in our paths, it would be easy to consider ourselves adrift, bumped along aimlessly by what happens to us and the world around us. We ask ourselves, “Where am I headed? Does all this fit into some plan for me, some goal? Will life be merely a string of events with no purpose or destination?” We might begin to think that if indeed we have no final destination, it doesn’t matter how we live today.
Modern thought and custom often emphasize the here-and-now as the only ultimate reality, with little reference to long-term implications of present-day decisions. Some people see this as freedom, as setting their own course; but we must have the long view in order to understand and tackle present choices, trials, and temptations. However we might feel about the present moment — set adrift or self-confident — if we do not discover our destiny and set our lives firmly on the road that leads there, we will eventually lose hope and feel utterly alone. If we don’t know where we’re going, any road will get us there.
Providentially, as Advent approaches we are reminded that we do know where we’re going. We have a purpose, a goal, a destination and a destiny — and he is Jesus Christ.
The end of the world is a frequent focus of biblical readings at Mass this time of year. We should understand the word “end” in two ways: first, referring to the fact that some day this world will literally end; and second, “end” referring to the “goal” or “purpose” of life. Both meanings help us get a handle on the present and teach us that we are not aimlessly adrift, no matter what today’s events set before us. Through life’s opportunities and trials, united with Christ, our heavenly Father is leading us to eternal life.
Yes, this world will end; and yes, this world has a goal, a destiny. As St. Paul wrote, everything was created through Christ and for Christ, and everything is destined for Christ. The here-and-now is indeed very important, not on its own merit but precisely because of the destiny God has set for all creation. That destiny is the light with which we can see today, the compass to guide how we live today.
Christians don’t sit idly in this world, awaiting its literal end. We live now in a way that respects the divine destiny of all creation — treating each person with the dignity that is his or hers as a child of God; paying special attention to the most vulnerable and to the poor, whom Jesus singles out as especially beloved to him; serving as ambassadors of his peace and working to end conflict wherever we find it; living morally upright lives; growing in holiness through prayer and the sacraments.
These are the ingredients which, when lived out, point us squarely in the direction of the goal of our lives and unveil for us God’s presence. These are the ingredients of a hope-filled life, because they form a life filled with Christ.
We do not live such a life in a vacuum. We have trials and struggles, some of which can be quite disheartening. Christ helps us see that he is at work even there — quietly, mysteriously, perhaps painfully — but at work nonetheless, showing the way to the resolution of all things in his love.
I find it interesting to read how ancient writers described the reason for hope in the midst of the here-and-now.
St. Macarius wrote, “Christ … came to till the soil of mankind devastated by sin. He assumed a body and, using the cross as his plowshare, cultivated the barren soul of man. He removed the thorns and thistles which are the evil spirits and pulled up the weeds of sin … And when he had plowed the soul with the wood of the cross, he planted in it a most lovely garden of the Spirit, that could produce for its Lord and God the sweetest and most pleasant fruit of every kind.”
St. Augustine wrote, “Let us sing alleluia here on earth, while we still live in anxiety, so that we may sing it one day in heaven in full security … God is faithful, says holy Scripture, and he will not allow you to be tried beyond your strength … You have entered upon a time of trial but you will come to no harm — God’s help will bring you through it safely. You are like a piece of pottery, shaped by instruction, fired by tribulation.”
Jesus is the Way that leads to our destination, and he is that destination. The Church is the bark (ship) of Peter on which we sail along Jesus’ Way under the breath of the Holy Spirit. We are his fields, plowed by his cross to sprout the seed that is his Word. We are vessels of clay — fragile and prone to break — but made nonetheless by his hand, according to his precise design, and destined to be filled with him forever.
Not adrift at all, but going somewhere — to God, our creator and destiny.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him c/o Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock AR 72217.

Latest from From the Bishop

We are not adrift; God steers our voyage

My seminary rector was fond of saying, “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.” Although we frequently quoted him for no other reason than to mimic his inimitable voice, we knew he was right.
With all that life proposes and places in our paths, it would be easy to consider ourselves adrift, bumped along aimlessly by what happens to us and the world around us. We ask ourselves, “Where am I headed? Does all this fit into some plan for me, some goal? Will life be merely a string of events with no purpose or destination?” We might begin to think that if indeed we have no final destination, it doesn’t matter how we live today.
Modern thought and custom often emphasize the here-and-now as the only ultimate reality, with little reference to long-term implications of present-day decisions. Some people see this as freedom, as setting their own course; but we must have the long view in order to understand and tackle present choices, trials, and temptations. However we might feel about the present moment — set adrift or self-confident — if we do not discover our destiny and set our lives firmly on the road that leads there, we will eventually lose hope and feel utterly alone. If we don’t know where we’re going, any road will get us there.
Providentially, as Advent approaches we are reminded that we do know where we’re going. We have a purpose, a goal, a destination and a destiny — and he is Jesus Christ.
The end of the world is a frequent focus of biblical readings at Mass this time of year. We should understand the word “end” in two ways: first, referring to the fact that some day this world will literally end; and second, “end” referring to the “goal” or “purpose” of life. Both meanings help us get a handle on the present and teach us that we are not aimlessly adrift, no matter what today’s events set before us. Through life’s opportunities and trials, united with Christ, our heavenly Father is leading us to eternal life.
Yes, this world will end; and yes, this world has a goal, a destiny. As St. Paul wrote, everything was created through Christ and for Christ, and everything is destined for Christ. The here-and-now is indeed very important, not on its own merit but precisely because of the destiny God has set for all creation. That destiny is the light with which we can see today, the compass to guide how we live today.
Christians don’t sit idly in this world, awaiting its literal end. We live now in a way that respects the divine destiny of all creation — treating each person with the dignity that is his or hers as a child of God; paying special attention to the most vulnerable and to the poor, whom Jesus singles out as especially beloved to him; serving as ambassadors of his peace and working to end conflict wherever we find it; living morally upright lives; growing in holiness through prayer and the sacraments.
These are the ingredients which, when lived out, point us squarely in the direction of the goal of our lives and unveil for us God’s presence. These are the ingredients of a hope-filled life, because they form a life filled with Christ.
We do not live such a life in a vacuum. We have trials and struggles, some of which can be quite disheartening. Christ helps us see that he is at work even there — quietly, mysteriously, perhaps painfully — but at work nonetheless, showing the way to the resolution of all things in his love.
I find it interesting to read how ancient writers described the reason for hope in the midst of the here-and-now.
St. Macarius wrote, “Christ … came to till the soil of mankind devastated by sin. He assumed a body and, using the cross as his plowshare, cultivated the barren soul of man. He removed the thorns and thistles which are the evil spirits and pulled up the weeds of sin … And when he had plowed the soul with the wood of the cross, he planted in it a most lovely garden of the Spirit, that could produce for its Lord and God the sweetest and most pleasant fruit of every kind.”
St. Augustine wrote, “Let us sing alleluia here on earth, while we still live in anxiety, so that we may sing it one day in heaven in full security … God is faithful, says holy Scripture, and he will not allow you to be tried beyond your strength … You have entered upon a time of trial but you will come to no harm — God’s help will bring you through it safely. You are like a piece of pottery, shaped by instruction, fired by tribulation.”
Jesus is the Way that leads to our destination, and he is that destination. The Church is the bark (ship) of Peter on which we sail along Jesus’ Way under the breath of the Holy Spirit. We are his fields, plowed by his cross to sprout the seed that is his Word. We are vessels of clay — fragile and prone to break — but made nonetheless by his hand, according to his precise design, and destined to be filled with him forever.
Not adrift at all, but going somewhere — to God, our creator and destiny.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him c/o Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock AR 72217.

Latest from From the Bishop