I gaped when I saw the pope’s New York itinerary listed in the paper last week. He had multiple public appearances in a single day, two of which involved tens of thousands of people. He also he had private conversations scheduled, group meals and several meetings. It was exhausting to contemplate, and I’m nowhere near his age. And of course the New York visit was sandwiched between similar schedules in Washington, DC, and Philadelphia.
“I can’t imagine having a schedule like that,” I commented to a friend, “It must take a ton of prayer to stay centered enough to deal with that many people!”
Though my own days are far less complicated and populated, sometimes the press of the crowd (or just my own family) feels overwhelming. There comes a point when I want the constant stream of needs to stop, when I want to howl to everyone, “GO AWAY!”
Watching Pope Francis joyfully step through his people-intense visit reminded me that my reaction is not exactly Biblical. When the crowd pursued Jesus he didn’t snap, “I’ve been busy all day and now I’m tired! Go find something else to do!” Instead he “had compassion on them” (Matthew 9:36).
The frazzled mom in me pouts. Compassion? How am I supposed to dredge up compassion when I have a to-do list 400 items long and people pester me all day, and I’m stressed and sleep-deprived and worn out?
Yet as soon as I pose that cranky question I know the honest answer: The depth of my compassion depends on how closely my heart is tied to the Passion of Christ.
When, like Jesus, I withdraw “to a lonely place” and pray (Luke 5:16) I approach life with greater and deeper love. When I “pray continually” (1 Thessalonians 5:17) and turn to God in the tiny pauses of the day, I am not as worn down. And when I reflect on the very real sufferings of Jesus, the annoyances and inconveniences of my life seem pretty simple and straightforward.
Which leads me to conclude that it’s possible to be so grounded in Christ that what’s on my schedule is, in some ways, irrelevant. If my prayer life is rich, anything on the agenda can be God’s work. And if it’s God’s work, it’s do-able, with joy.
