By the narrow way

Last week I was away on my retreat. On one of my walks, meandering my way through the village, I turned into this footpath, and was immediately struck by its tapering perspective. Enter by the narrow way, I thought wryly, before proceeding - unaware that these words would be the focus of yesterday's Gospel!

Enter by the narrow way... Not impossibly narrow: no; the God who created us for union, yearns for and delights in us doesn't play cruel games; doesn't beckon, call and fill us with a deep longing, whilst simultaneously making himself inaccessible. The narrow way is never too narrow for us, but our many encumbrances will never squeeze through: our egos, pride and selfishness, our anger, and the bags full of everything we covet. We might think our seemingly tiny infidelities could be smuggled through, but no, even they won't fit: as we discover, at times painfully, anything which is not of God must be left behind if we ourselves are to walk through this entrance into the unmeasured vastness of Love. 

And here, too, we find a space filled with the immense riches of God's own treasury, reducing to nothing whatever we have left behind. And whilst we are the only ones who can actually do this, we are not alone. Grace bears us forward, as do others' prayers, encouragement and challenge, and - seen or unseen - an outstretched Hand awaits, drawing us yet further into Love's embrace.

At Mass yesterday, in his homily the priest spoke of relationship, reminding us of the radicality and the totality of the marriage vows. To have and to hold... for better for worse... to love and to cherish... And the words said at the exchange of rings: All that I am I give to you... Could we, he asked, really, truly say this to Jesus? 

And as I listened, I thought of how the vows in a wedding are mutual and requited; as, indeed, is any interaction between us and God. We love, wrote St John, because he first loved us. Whatever oblation we might make, whatever promise of fidelity and generosity, is only an echo of God's promise and self-offering to us. All that I am I give to you, we might say, whether hesitantly, fearfully or with great fervour... and God, with unbounded love, declares his own timeless pledge... All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you... 

Can we hear, and truly believe these words?

I know that despite all I hold back, I sooo want to throw aside my encumbrances and run through that narrow way, as I'm sure you do, too! How can we support each other in this journey?