running on E

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled." (Jesus)


You and I know the terrifying glare of the indicator light.

(photo credit: http://spiralwayjsj.blogspot.com/2012/01/running-on-empty.html)

I drive a Prius, and when the fuel gauge is on E, the last indicator bar blinks repeatedly. The fact that I can still get 50 miles on my last gallon is inconsequential. Its insistent blinking, while on the periphery of my vision, annoys me to the point of desperation. I am afraid that when I go up a hill, the little fuel I have left won't make it into the fuel injector and my car will cough and sputter to a stop.

But when I fill up the tank, comfort and ease flood into my life. Thus, I can drive without worry for at least the rest of the week. It's kind of like mood swings. Or the spiritual life. You and I both want it to be full so that we can grow with ease. But is that really how it is supposed to be?

Which makes me wonder: how is it that spiritual "fuel" gets spent? And how do I "refuel"? Am I ever certain of how much spiritual power there is in me? My thinking about this has changed recently, thanks to the Beatitudes.

Spiritual fuel, I think, is that zeal that gets spent when I am determined to pray, to read my Bible, to help others. I used to think that it was a kind of eagerness that stirred within me. And when I didn't sense that drive, maybe I thought I needed a revival, a refilling. So, I would go to retreats, or pick up a new devotional book, or visit any other spiritual pit stop in my attempt to refuel. My spiritual life has been this constant battle against emptiness.

But maybe Jesus has been telling me something different, something paradoxical, which most likely means that it is true.

All this time I have been talking and thinking about my spiritual life as if it something I need to maintain (like the fuel level in my car). It's a constant, uphill struggle. But what Jesus says here is that those who declare a spiritual bankruptcy, those who are completely spent on their own righteousness--they will be filled with riches of Christ's righteousness.

I think Lewis is right when he wrote in his Letters to Malcolm: "I have a notion that what seem our worst prayers may really be, in God's eyes, our best. Those, I mean, which are least supported by devotional feeling and contend with the greatest disinclination. For these, perhaps, being nearly all will, come from a deeper level than feeling."

Maybe God is weaning me away from these fossil fuels to alternative (altar-native?) forms of energy. (Sorry. I'll stop.) Or maybe it is a weaning away from the concept of fuel and drive and progression in general. Could God be pleased especially when I still choose to worship and praise and pray when I am running on empty? Could this be the real engine of spiritual living?

The indicator light tells me I need something. And if it is on all the time, I think that's a good thing for me: to know that I constantly need God. Needing Him, instead of using Him.