Let Go, Let God

“Cast your burden on the Lord and He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved” (Psalm 55:22)

I recall while in seminary reading The Diary of a Russian Priest, by Father Alexander Yelchaninov for the first time. In it he wrote of confessing a whole family, and in each year’s Great Lent the Lord would give him a single thought to share and convey. I thought of that quote often in my more than two score years of hearing the Great Lent confessions. It does happen, and I think it’s because society passes through changing traumas year by year. In 2002, for example, it had to do with shock, fear and anger after the September 11, 2001, attack on the Twin Towers of New York City. Another year I remember counseling many times with Christ’s words: “He who endures to the end will be saved.” (Matthew 10:22).

This lent past I found myself repeating so often the advice of St. Theresa of Avila: “Let go: Let God.” So many are like beginners in the swimming pool thrashing about with arms and legs flailing, choking and tearing while sinking. One must learn to trust the buoyancy of the water if he is ever to learn to swim. Or the clever way that the natives of South America catch monkeys. They make a hole in the trunk of a tree, hollowing out the interior enough to place there some fruit. The monkey will reach in and grasp the fruit, discovering to its chagrin that it cannot remove the hand. It will chatter, kick, and continue to yank—in a word, do anything but release the fruit.

I find it harder to counsel men than women in that regard. Somehow with a reverse sexism females are usually better at faith and trust than males. We men prefer to do it ourselves and go it alone. We choose to work it out without help, but thank you very much anyway. Even in the more difficult matters of life, such as a broken love affair or marriage, or the death of a parent or spouse, in general I’ve had more success in reaching into the souls of the lost, forlorn or bereaving women and helping them back on the path to the future. Not always, of course, and I pray that the urge to sexual equality will not reduce the instinctive attributes of simple faith in the Lord that women often exhibit.

As I look around at our parish, it’s more likely that we will have more women who have lost their husbands than the reverse. Medical specialists have various reasons for this phenomenon. Men are “A” types, we’re told. They are easier excitable, more vitriolic; they get all worked up over nothing, whereas women are more likely to have a “live and let live” approach. Besides, it’s still a man’s world, or so we like to think, and we resent others lording over us, even when we grow old and can no longer walk like cocks of the barnyard. Women don’t yet have that temptation to dominate. Biologists say that this has something to do with women’s X-chromosomes, while we males have a Y-chromosome to muck up our DNA program.

I, however, still feel that it has more to do with the capacity to trust in God and to let Him sort out our problems, especially when we have no idea what’s going on in our lives. As St. Basil the Great explains in reference to Psalm 35:10: “In Your light shall we see light,” “By the illumination of the Holy Spirit we shall see the true light which enlightens everyone who comes into the world.” When we, men and women, boys and girls, make our hearts clear and open by trust and faith, that light will shine in us and give us spiritual truth. But when we are for whatever reason in the dark, the only way to survive is to allow the Lord to lead us out.