Our family car was half way to Colorado and I was about six or seven and I clearly remember asking my mother that famous, time-honored question of children, “Mommy, are we there yet?” It was a real question, and I wasn’t quoting someone else. So I thought.
By now I have heard child after child ask exactly the same question of a parent, in exactly the same words. Maybe it is an innate instinct, like geese flying south or robins pulling up worms.
As we become mature, we human beings do learn to wait, to live with the “not yet.” It is now called “delayed gratification.” We may want to arrive at home, for instance, but to get there from work, we might have to walk to the bus stop, wait for the #10, hand over a fee, stand until there is a seat, sit down at long last, wait some more, get off, walk 50 blocks (it seems), unlock the door, and finally, finally, finally, say hello and put our feet up to relax. Some days this can be annoying, but usually “we get used to it.”
But we shouldn’t get overly used to it. That is the point of this week’s readings. Since we are not children, we are able to overlook the joy or pleasure when our goal finally arrives. Do you even remember to taste food when you finally get your dinner? Did you remember to enjoy in quiet detail the friend you haven’t seen in a year (at least virtually)?
Sunday’s First Reading reminds us peacefully and beautifully to watch for God at dawn; to keep vigil because Wisdom (the Holy Spirit of God) actually is searching for those who are waiting. The Responsorial Psalm boldly names our craving for God! It says, “my soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.” And, the Gospel adds, stay awake, make preparations. Do not be foolish and sleep. Do not forget to be ready.
We are like parched ground without rain. We have huge cracks in our surface. Our souls ache for the gentle, courteous, tender outpouring that God wants to give—not something like hurricanes or floods, but like a mother feeding her newborn. Do you feel it?
Let’s face it. You and I desire something like God, more than anything else. At the center of our souls is a thirst that will never be slaked unless the God of all creation comes in person to be living water for us.
“Your kindness is a greater good than life,” the Psalmist says to God. (Responsorial Psalm)
What’s that? But life is so essential, so to be preserved, so valuable that we fight like a cornered wolf when it is threatened. Even so, in spite of all our flurry, God’s delicious kindness is a far greater good than anything else that we know, greater even than being alive. Isn’t it worth the wait, no matter how long?
So, let us say “I want,” like kids do. But also, let’s be calm like an adult. And know that when our desires are thwarted we can wait, as wisdom waits for us
How can it be that the “typical questions” of children pass down from generation to generation?
It seems that they do.
