"I am a gift meant to be given away."
On the one hand, a Trinitarian worldview upholds the good of individuality. I am indeed a person. I have to be a person to live relationally. Relationships emerge when individuals come together.
Yet, my individuality is not an end in itself. It is a means whereby I can commune with God and others. It serves the greater purpose of "coming together."
God gives us the opportunity to experience both "modes" of being: the being an individual part, and the giving myself away part. For many of us, the "giving" part too often causes anxiety, when it should be a source of joy.
In my own case, I was given a great education, generally speaking and musically. I had a season in my life that was all about investing in my own skills. This was the part of life where things "made sense." Generally, human beings have no trouble understanding self-investment.
Then, through His Providence, God called me to the field of education. Based on the opportunities that came my way, He seemed to desire that I use my skills for the uplift of others. This of course meant less time for my own self-development and even, in a sense, a ceiling on my own achievements. The time/energy invested in students was time/energy I couldn't invest in my own professional advancement. I had entered a phase in life focused on "giving myself away."
For a long time, this confused and distressed me. I didn't mind serving others per se, I just wasn't sure that teaching was the true purpose of my gifts. I've come to realize with time that my distress was caused by not understanding the value in making a gift of myself to others. I've also found that God has since opened up new opportunity for me to reinvest in my creative projects. My time as an educator was a season in life that God permitted so that I could ponder the importance of service.
The "shift in gears" (from self to other), is something we all go through in our way. The following are the two primary ways this can be experienced:
1) The classic "mid life crisis." The years have come and gone, and perhaps we didn't quite accomplish what we dreamed of professionally or personally. Instead, we find ourselves in the middle of a myriad of obligations to, perhaps, a spouse, children, and our employment as it is. Unless we are close to God, we can resent these obligations. We imagine that they are "tying us down." We have yet to learn that the point of "growing up" is to get skills such that we can sustain society and our families. We were never meant to exist just for ourselves.
2) Perhaps we have achieved the success we dreamed of during our phase of self-investment, but the demands of it are starting to weigh us down. Fame, money, prestige, and power come with great responsibility. We find that many people depend upon our expertise and leadership. In order to maintain our skills, we work tirelessly. If we are not close to God, we can resent the work and the mantle we carry. We have yet to learn that our position is something given to us to bless the lives of others; it was never about us in the first place.
Thus, whether we accomplished the goals formed during the phase of self-investment or not, we face weariness and resentment if we do not come to terms with the second mode of being, "giving ourselves away."
For most of us, "giving ourselves away" means going to work every day, paying bills, maintaining our homes, and caring for our families. As the author of the Book of Ecclesiastes laments, whatever treasures we amass are passed on to those who did not work for them. In a similar way, our gifts and skills are so often invested in those who may or may not avail themselves of the investment. "All of my learning, just for others" echoes, "all of my wealth, just for others."
At times, it can feel like a pointless oblation: a seemingly endless "pouring out" of oneself. In a fallen world, our gift of self can often feel unappreciated. We don't know whether or if our investment in others will bear fruit. In this sense, we get to experience God's frustration as He pours out endless graces upon us that so often go unreceived. Like Him, we must learn to love sinners and invest in them hoping, just hoping, that they receive our gifts.
We will be unable to articulate an "end" for ourselves apart from God. If we substitute a natural good for God, we will only reap futility, as the Book of Ecclesiastes confirms. Our wealth shifts with fortune and/or is left to our descendants. Fame inevitably yields to the younger generation. Our knowledge will be surpassed by generations to come. Our health and looks will fade.
Obviously, we can't focus on ourselves or our things as a final end; yet, focusing on others as a final end will fail us, too. Human beings inevitably disappoint us. Our pessimism can be wise in the spirit of Ecclesiastes so long as it is understood within the divine framework of only God being God. No spouse, child, friend, or colleague will be perfect. We will find that, while human beings can love us, they are mysteriously propelled onwards towards something beyond us (God). In other words, they can exist with us, but not for us.
If we are not an end and others are not an end, what is the point? We might say that God is our end and this is true; yet, it is God's will that a perfected relationship with Him also entails our individuality, relationships with others, and relationship with all of creation. Perhaps we come closer to capturing the big picture when we say that the point is Heaven, which is: relationships perfected. We are valuable and contribute something to Heaven that only we can; at the same time, we are powerless to make Heaven complete. The whole Body of Christ, and the New Heavens and New Earth, are needed for that.
God has summoned us to a multi-faceted existence that reflects the richness of His own Trinitarian life. It is an existence that involves the development of our own individuality, our relationship with God, others, and creation, the last of which we will also inherit in the age to come.
In assessing the state of our lives, we should therefore ask, "what is the state of my relationships?" Am I receptive of creation, God, and others? Do I "let them in?" Do I care for them? At the same time, do I bring myself? Do I share myself with others? In other words, do I have reason to hope that my relationships are being steadily perfected, and that Heaven, the Kingdom of God, is being realized in my life?
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