A Reflection for Saturday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time
Find today’s readings here.
“Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’
Anything more is from the Evil One.”
I sometimes find yes-or-no questions brusque, perturbing, even unsettling.
It’s one thing to be asked “Do you like ice cream?” (to answer in the affirmative is second nature), or “Do you think clams belong on pizza?” (I’m from New Haven—of course they do). It’s a different story entirely when the question urges me to make a declaration about some matter of more profound importance—my values, for instance, or my broad life goals, or my faith.
Dodging the question can be a comfortable evasion, but it can also be an impediment to my faith journey and an obstacle to truly knowing myself. Sometimes, retreating into ambiguity when asked a direct question about one of these weightier subjects is a form of self-preservation.
Ducking away from a straight “Yes” or “No” answer can make us avoid taking our own professed beliefs seriously—or, perhaps, can shield us from the scary possibility of getting in touch with our beliefs at all.
Do you really, truly believe in God? (“It’s complicated…”); Are you willing, if need be, to reorient your life to fit your faith? (“Sure, I guess, except for those one or two things I can’t really accept…”)
There have been periods in my life when, unwilling to declare forthrightly for any particular set of beliefs, I languished in ambiguity, shying away from replying with a clear “Yes” or “No” to questions like “Do I want to be Catholic?” or “Should I stick my neck out in opposition to political trends I find distressing?”
There is no shame in questioning, in deliberating, in grappling with these complex issues. Still, I am grateful to God for granting me the grace and courage to come off the fence.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus invites us to directness in speech, thought and living. Ensuring that our “Yes” means “Yes,” and that our “No” means “No,” is a path not only to salutary frankness and clarity in speech, but to a deeper relationship with God. For to be as in touch with our own desires as we need to be in order to speak with this directness, we have to be grounded in prayer. What is the venerable Ignatian tradition of discernment—attention to the movements of the good and bad spirits in our lives—if not a path towards coming to a decision, or resolving an urgent moral question, with a clear “Yes” or “No” answer? If we cultivate our ability to listen to God's voice speaking in the stillness of our hearts, we will be better equipped to provide clear answers when we are asked to take a stand.
