Last Sunday I spoke about the decisive moments in our lives. You may remember that I distinguished them from the routine and ordinary decisions we make every day.

They are the kind of decisions that reveal who we are and what it means to be uniquely us, decisions that ask something of us, decisions that reveal our values, priorities, and commitments, decisions that shape and change our lives and impact the lives of others.

Sometimes the decisive moment asks us to leave a place, a way of being, or the way we’ve always done things. Sometimes it means staying, recommitting, and going deeper. Sometimes it’s about starting something new and moving forward with a vision for the life we want to create or the person we want to become. Other times the decisive moment calls us to face and deal with what we never chose or wanted. And then there are the decisive moments that ask us to step up to the plate, find our voice, and take a stand. (Budde, How We Learn To be Brave, xx.) 

The All In Question

The thing about decisive moments is that they ask us if we are all in. I think that’s the question before Jesus in today’s gospel (Luke 13:31-35).

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, “the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it,” when some Pharisees stop him on the road and say, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” Jerusalem or Herod, the outcome is the same.

It’s a decisive moment for Jesus. How far in will he go? Will he be all in? His response to the Pharisees leaves no doubt that he is:

“Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way.’”

He knows what he is about, what he is doing, and where he is going. What about you and me? I’ve come to those decisive moments that asked if I was all in. Haven’t you?

Maybe it was about your marriage or a friendship. Maybe you had to decide if you would go along to get along or be the lone voice to speak out. Maybe it was committing to justice and doing what is right knowing there would be a price to pay. Maybe it was about refusing to betray your own integrity. Maybe it was making a change or breaking an old pattern that was keeping you stuck. 

The all in question comes to us in a thousand different ways. I wonder what relationships, circumstances, or parts of your life today are asking you to be all in. And what if we could be all in the way Jesus is? What would that be like and take? 

I don’t think it was easier for Jesus to be all in than it is for us. I don’t think we can exempt or excuse ourselves by saying, “Well, he’s Jesus and I’m just me.”

I don’t know what fears, questions, or doubts were churning within him but I think he struggled with the all in question as much as we do. If he didn’t, he doesn’t know anything about my life or, I suppose, yours. My experience is that the all in question raises fears, questions, and doubts within us. 

Clarity

But here’s what I’m wondering. What if clarity is the key to being all in? What if that’s what we’re seeing in Jesus today?

Do you hear the clarity with which Jesus speaks to the Pharisees? He doesn’t defend, justify, or explain himself. He doesn’t second guess himself. He doesn’t change his mind or turn around. And he doesn’t avoid the work or the consequences of the work before him. 

He has committed himself to “casting our demons and performing cures.” He has committed himself to finishing his work and being on his way. He has “set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51). That’s less about his destination and more about his clarity.

By clarity I don’t mean arrogance, defensiveness, single-mindedness, an unwillingness to listen to others, the self-assurance that we are always right, or that we know more and better than others

I’m talking about the clarity that gives rise to wholeheartedness, integrity, and a vision of life that is connected to something larger than and beyond ourselves. It’s clarity about who we are and the values that guide our lives. I’m talking about the kind of clarity that fosters honesty and authenticity, supports commitment and resolve, is grounded in discernment and wisdom, promotes the well-being of others, and enables us to see beyond our own comfort or self-interest. 

When we can gain some of that kind of clarity we find a bit more of ourselves and direction for our life and the decisions before us. And most of the time we know what to do next. It may not be easy or comfortable but it follows pretty naturally. 

Clarity isn’t about knowing and seeing everything. And it doesn’t mean we have all the answers. It’s about knowing and seeing ourselves. It’s knowing our own heart, our deepest loyalties, and what matters most to us. It’s guarding the tender parts of ourselves. It’s seeing clearly our gifts and abilities, and at the same time acknowledging our limitations and blind spots.

When I have clarity I am more wholehearted. My words and actions are congruent with my values, who I say I am, and who I want to be. I’m more me and more real. But when I lack clarity I hedge my bets, offer excuses, or blame others. I’m halfhearted and I always have an escape plan.

Today, Tomorrow, And The Next Day

The world today doesn’t need louder and more strident voices, more power, money, or information, or smarter or harder working people. We need people with clarity about what it means and looks like to love our neighbor as ourselves, to welcome the stranger, to feed the hungry and care for the sick, to strive for justice and peace among all people, to respect the dignity of every human being, to seek and serve Christ in all persons. 

We’ve heard those words again and again – too many times to count. We hear them in our Sunday gospel readings, pray them in the liturgy, and commit to them in our baptismal vows. They are familiar and comfortable words. But let me ask you this: Do you and I have clarity about what they mean and look like in our lives today? Do we have clarity about what they are asking of us and how we might live them?

None of them are easy and all of them are decisive moments in each of our lives asking if we’re really all in. One thing I’m clear about is that I want to live an all in faith and life. I want to be all in. What about you?

At the end of today’s gospel Jesus laments, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem.” It’s the sound of his heartbreaking that Jerusalem is unwilling to be gathered, to be all in. I don’t want to hear Uvalde, America, your name, or mine in that lament. I don’t want us to be unwilling and I hope you don’t either. 

So here’s my challenge to you and for myself. Take a moment and pick one person, a relationship, a set of circumstances, or something about your life with whom or which you want to be all in. You got it? What if, through the rest of Lent, we practiced being just a bit more all in? Today, tomorrow, and the next day.

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Image Credit: By Dosseman – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.