The night is coming to a close. The books are tucked away and sleeping. The beagle is downstairs trying to talk her way out of a night in the box. And I have a few moments to look back over the day.
Did I walk today the Jesus walked?
Okay, did I take one or two steps the way he did?
This is a new way of putting the question as I pray my bedtime prayers. It seems much more pointed than the way I have done these reflections in the past. Oddly, it has even less wiggle room to let me off the hook for my sloppy and slothful ways.
Did you walk today as Jesus walked or did you walk the way of someone else?
Had Abraham not had faith, then Sarah would surely have died of sorrow, and Abraham, dull with grief, instead of understanding the fulfillment, would have smiled at it as at a youthful dream. But Abraham believed, and therefore, he was young; for he who always hopes for the best becomes old, deceived by life, and he who is always prepared for the worst becomes old prematurely; but he who has faith retains eternal youth.
— Soren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling
From The Violence of Love, a collection of the words of Roman Catholic Bishop Oscar Romero:
How beautiful will be the day when all the baptized understand that their work, their job, is a priestly work; that just as I celebrate Mass at this altar, so each carpenter celebrates Mass at his workbench, and each metalworker, each professional, each doctor with a scalpel, the market woman at her stand, is performing priestly office! How many cabdrivers, I know, listen to this message there in their cabs; you are a priest at the wheel, my friend, if you work with honesty, consecrating that taxi of yours to God, bearing a message of peace and love to the passengers who ride in your cab.