Still as a teenager, when I was going through the rigors of novitiate life, loaded with a generous help of prayers, meditations/contemplations, ample silence hours, one of the songs which captivated my heart, as it was being played on the gramophone record in the refectory, was the English song, Why me, Lord! by Kris Kristofferson, and the first stanza of the song was the most touching part : “Why me Lord what have I ever done to deserve even one of the pleasures I’ve known; Tell me Lord what did I ever do That was worth loving you or the kindness you’ve shown.”

Briefly, the song presents the utter unworthiness of the devotee to behold the love and kindness of the Lord, and she is utterly speechless before his mighty majesty. To feel so tiny in front of the awe-inspiring presence of God is nothing new in spiritual literature. Many of the psalms of David in the Book of Psalms present the similar kind of sentiments.

But any consecrated man or woman is sure to feel that the great privilege of being the close disciple of Jesus, the Savior and Lord, was nothing but the sheer grace of God, and no one could ever boast of deserving such a rare privilege.

It is not that some one cannot really boast of deserving the mercy and kindness of God – those saintly and pious persons who have offered themselves body and soul to the Lord, may claim to deserve the special privileges of the Lord, but not the most of the people who had been called to be His spokespersons.

There were more qualified persons in my class, as I completed class 8 at my home town, and when the parish priest announced that only the boy who stands first in the class could be considered for joining the Salesian-run petty seminary for dioceses. I was quite sure that I would come first in the class, since I had only one competitor, and it might not be hard to defeat him. But when the results were published, I felt all my dreams of joining the petty-seminary were dashed, because I stood second in the class. I was sure that my friend who stood first in the class might opt to join the seminary, while I would be left behind in the village to continue my studies.

But my mother had gone to the parish priest to plead my cause, and that was what ultimately prevailed, and I was soon admitted into the petty seminary. Again when I continued my studies at the Salesian school, I realized most of my friends were more intelligent, smarter, and had better means to pursue the rigorous training that was offered there.

Very rarely did I really feel confident that I was fit to follow courageously the call of the Lord. It is this sense of being utterly unworthy of being called to be the messenger of God’s word to the people of the world that continues to make every consecrated man and woman humbler.

When they do not deserve this special privilege, all that they could do is to receive what the Lord offers with open arms, and make no tall claims. Whatever the Lord gives is the sheer gratuitous gift of God, and it is fully due to his goodness and kindness.

Today as a religious I realize that my life is far more honorable, secure, comfortable and cozy, trouble-free, as opposed to the more suitable candidates for the Kingdom of God. Many of my childhood friends might have high social standing, riches and wealth, and all that the world considers as of enduring value, and yet I feel I am happier than most of them, though I have nothing that I can boast to possess. Even the little that I possess, but belongs to my religious congregation, which provides for and takes away whatever I have and possess.

If at all any of the consecrated men and women were to say that they considered themselves as being the most fitting persons to work in the vineyard of the Lord, then we could declare that such persons might rely more on themselves and their earthly resources rather than what God provides for his disciples.

St Ignatius of Loyola in his spiritual classic, the Spiritual Exercises, in the meditation on the Two Standards describes pride as the vice from which all the other vices would proceed. He also holds that humility is the virtue from which all the other virtues would proceed.

Julian S Das

It is only humility and the utter unworthiness, which can enable a person to put his or her trust in the Lord. If at all they consider they have any merit, it has been showered upon them gratuitously, without their asking for it. Such are the persons who have nothing to complain to God, for their very life is a gift of God to them, and they can only be ever grateful to him for this privilege.

For this reason, every consecrated man and woman can sing with Mary, the Mother of Jesus and the mother of humanity, her song of praise and thanksgiving, the magnificat! How often the humble servants of the Lord had experienced the mighty deeds of the Lord, worked for them, in order to raise the lowly and bring down the high and mighty.

Those who are fully at the mercy and kindness of the Lord have hardly anything else that they could expect from the Lord, except what has been freely given them. They are also fully aware that they most often receive much more than what they have asked of. Such are the persons who constantly contemplate what they could give in return for the Lord’s mercy and kindness. Perhaps they may not be able to satiate the thirst of the Lord for human love and kindness, but they are sure through their life of kindness and mercy they can turn people to the Lord.

The consecrated men and women depend entirely on the Lord, because they are fully aware they cannot do anything without the help and assistance of the Lord. They need the Lord much more than the Lord needing them, to execute his salvific plan.