Suivre Jésus.
Le suivre, parce que, comme le dit le texte que nous venons
d’entendre, il se met en route. « Comme s’accomplissait le temps où il
allait être enlevé au ciel, Jésus, le visage déterminé, prit la route de
Jérusalem. » (Lc 9, 51-62)
Double départ, vers le ciel et vers Jérusalem. Le visage
déterminé, c’est sa personne qui est déterminée. Et si nous suivons Jésus, il
nous faudra de la détermination, du courage, parce que le chemin passe par la
croix. La perspective ne s’annonce pas des plus réjouissantes. Pas forcément le
martyre, juste laisser passer l’autre devant. Je ne comprends toujours pas
pourquoi l’on s’étonne du petit nombre de chrétiens. Nous sommes même nombreux
si suivre Jésus, c’est prendre à sa suite la route de Jérusalem, la route de sa
passion.
Il en est qui s’imaginent qu’être chrétien, ce sont des
valeurs. On entend cela à longueur de temps. Mais Jésus a été condamné au nom
des valeurs : il ne respecte pas la religion du sabbat ou des sacrifices,
il est toujours avec les pécheurs, les délinquants. Il en est d’autres qui
pensent qu’il s’agit d’une identité, des racines chrétiennes. Mais ce n’est pas
à nous de nous charger des racines. Le cep, c’est lui, nous sommes les
sarments. Occupons-nous de porter du fruit et laissons lui la question de l’identité,
c’est son affaire. Il en est d’autres encore, qui croient qu’être chrétien est
affaire de doctrine. Dans l’évangile, la foi est toujours l’acte de s’en
remettre à Jésus, comme lui au Père, non des articles de foi.
Foin des valeurs, de l’identité ou des articles de foi, donc.
Etre chrétien, c’est suivre Jésus. D’abord le suivre, parce qu’évidemment, il
ne peut qu’être premier. Il est souvent derrière, parce que les premiers sont
derniers, parce qu’il ramasse tous ceux qui traînent sur le chemin, mais enfin,
« le premier il nous a aimés ».
Suivre Jésus. Etre en route. Avec Jésus, on n’a jamais tout
fait. C’est comme avec les amis. On demeure en dette. « N’ayez aucune
dette entre vous, si ce n’est celle de l’amour. » Et c’est bien ainsi avec
Jésus. On n’en est jamais quitte avec lui - la question ne se pose même
pas ‑ c’est simplement notre vie.
Le suivre, c’est un chemin non un état. On n’en a jamais
fini d’être disciple. On n’est jamais chrétien, une fois pour toute, ce n’est
jamais acquis. Il faut demeurer dans son
amour. C’est comme être marié, il ne suffit pas d’avoir dit oui un jour, c’est
une réponse de chaque jour. C’est comme être religieux, religieuse, il ne
suffit pas d’avoir dit oui un jour, c’est une réponse de chaque jour.
On ne peut suivre Jésus qu’à être pratiquants. Suivre Jésus,
c’est être pratiquants. Au sens que l’évangile donne à ce mot, et non les
sociologues et nous avec : mettre la parole en pratique. On ne peut suivre
Jésus en se reposant sur ce que nous aurions fait autrefois avec lui, notre
baptême, le caté, nos communions comme disent les gens.
Importe non des choses fixes, des repères, mais des pas qui
sont par définition des déséquilibres. Quand on suit Jésus, on est mis en
déséquilibre. Plus rien ne tient. On comprend que certains, affolés, veuillent
trouver à quoi s’accrocher. Pourtant, tout repère est illusoire, même quand on
suit Jésus. Comment ne pas perdre pied ? « N’ayez pas peur ! »
Rien n’est déterminé une fois pour toute en nos vies. Notre décision de suivre
Jésus est à reprendre à chaque pas. Jésus le sait. « Les renards ont des
terriers, les oiseaux du ciel ont des nids ; mais le Fils de l’homme n’a
pas d’endroit où reposer la tête. »
On ne pourra suivre Jésus à se reposer sur le mol édredon
des certitudes, même religieuses. Pas d’endroit où reposer la tête. La seule détermination, c'est celle de Jésus, de sa personne. S'il faut suivre Jésus, c'est qu'il est lui-même toujours en marche, jamais fixé. Le suivre, c'est être comme lui, en mouvement. Et si Dieu était mouvement...
Celui qui veut le suivre, Jésus le renvoie à sa maison. Celui
qui veut honorer ses parents ou ses morts, qu’il s’en libère. Suivre Jésus, ce
n’est pas la religion de nos pères. C’est fini tout ça. C’est une aventure
inouïe, jamais entendue, jamais vue, même après 2000 ans d’évangile. Même à
quatre-vingt-dix ans, Jésus nous tourne non vers un demain utopique, et encore
moins vers un passé trompeur et révolu. Il nous tourne vers l’urgence du
présent. « Suis-moi ! »
Commentaire puis traduction de mon texte par Jean-François Garneau.
Merci
I had a number of discussions with Scott Dodge over the bizarre way in which I am now led to understand Christ's demand to follow Him. This imperative does not only ask something of us, it also reveals something about the divine. The divine thus revealed is not something out there that can be seen, heard or grasped. It is not even a thing way out there like a destination can be (or even a horizon or something over that rainbow). It is not either some center of gravity around which our lives would make sense (what Tillich wrongly called the ground of our very being). The divine is rather more like a wind which blows one does not know from where and goes apparently nowhere, and which only provides answers of the sort that Dylan finds blowing in the wind).
The reason we have to follow Christ is that Christ is himself on the move like the wind. And he is on the move like a wind because He Himself has no destination or center of gravity. As he himself says: Sons of Men have nowhere to rest their heads in the way that foxes have dens and birds have nests. The point of following Christ is therefore not to arrive at some den or some nest, or not to step too far away from some hypothetical homey center of gravity. The Christian "myth" is about as far away from the preoccupations of the Odysseus and the search for Itacha as can be.
The way that Christ is (when He says that He is "the way") is not a course so much as life itself (that has no other purpose than itself). Christ is not the way as something opposed and different to being the truth and the life (truth and life being destinations while the way is the means to get there). No! Christ is the way in the same manner that he is life and truth. The point (and the proof) is in the living and the living in truth, not in some fundamentalist destination.
Here is the translation of this week homily on the topic of "follow me" by one priest of France whose writings I always read with great profit and pleasure. I recognized myself in what he said. He liked what I said but argued that the link he himself made about following Jesus had less to do with what I said above than with this idea that Michel de Certeau put in his head, to the effect that Christ could be compared to what Mallarmé said of Rimbaud, i.e.: that both were "considerable passerbies" (des passants considérables).
Here is my translation / paraphrase of what Patrick Royannais wrote in in his homily. And in the first comment, I put what I said on his FB page, and which adds to the stuff I just said here.
"Follow me!" (13th Sunday of the time)
Patrick Royannais
For men, it's impossible, Friday, June 28, 2019
To follow Jesus
We have to follow him because, as the text of today’s gospel says, He is just getting on his way. "As the time was coming when he was going to be taken up to heaven, Jesus, hardened his face and took the road to Jerusalem." (Lk 9: 51-62)
Double departure, towards the sky and towards Jerusalem. The hardened face is there to show the determination of his entire person. If we decide to follow Jesus, in short, we will need determination, courage, not because the end goal is the cross, but because whatever path he is following himself goes through the cross. The prospect does not look promising. Not necessarily martyrdom, but just this imperative to always let the neighbour get first priority. I still do not understand why we are so surprised at the small number of Christians. We are in fact surprisingly numerous to think we are, given that to follow Jesus is to take a road to heaven that goes through Jerusalem, the road of his passion.
Some of us imagine that being a Christian means having a given set of clear values. We hear this all the time. And yet, Jesus was condemned in the name of values: he did respect neither the Sabbath nor the sacrifices, he was always with the sinners, the delinquents. Some others, amongst us, think that being a Christian is a matter of identity, of so-called Christian roots. But it's not up to us to take care of the roots. It is he who is the vine, we are merely branches. Let us take care of the fruit and leave to him the question of the identity of the vine as a whole. That’s his business. There are still others who believe that being a Christian is a matter of doctrine. And yet, in the gospel, faith is always the act of relying on Jesus, like him to the Father, not justified true beliefs in articles of faith [pre-certified “orthodoxy proof” by some Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith –the very Delenda Est institution].
Enough, then, with Christianity as values, as identity, or as articles of faith, so. To be a Christian is to follow Jesus. To follow him, first, because he can obviously only be the first. His way of being the first often makes him look like all he cares about is to be behind, because the first are last, as he says, but also because he picks up all those who drag on the way, but still, "he loved us first".
To follow Jesus. To be on that very way that he claims to be. With Jesus, one has never done it all. [One never arrives for one has never finished. He is a way, not a destination.]. It's like with friends. We always remain in their debt. "Have no debt amongst you, except that of love." And so it is with Jesus. We are never over and done with him – that sort of question does not even arise - it's just our life.
Following is the act of being on a path, it is not an end state. We have never finished to be a disciple. One never finally becomes a Christian, once and for all, it is never acquired. We must remain in his love. It's like being married, it's not enough to say yes one day, it's an answer every day. It is like being the member of a religious order, it is not enough to have said yes one day, it is an answer of every day.
We can only follow Jesus by practising. To follow Jesus is to be a practicing Christian. In the sense that the gospel gives to the word “practising”, and not in the sense that sociologists (and us with them) give to it. We have to put the word into practice. We can not follow Jesus by resting on what we once have done with him, our baptism, the café, our communions as people say.
What matters are not fixed things, or landmarks, but steps that are, by definition, so many states of imbalance. When we follow Jesus, we are put in a position of disequilibrium. Nothing else holds. We understand that some, distraught, want to find something to hang on to. Yet, every reference is illusory, even when we follow Jesus. How not to lose one’s footing, in such circumstances? "Do not be afraid [Jesus tells us, when it feels like he is asking us to walk on water]!" Nothing is determined once and for all in our lives. Our decision to follow Jesus is to be repeated at every step. Jesus knows it. "The foxes have dens, the birds of the sky have nests; but the Son of man has no place to rest his head. "
We can not follow Jesus to rest on some soft quilt of certainties, be they religious ones. No place to rest one’s head. The only determination is that of Jesus, of his person. If it is necessary to follow Jesus, it is because he is always in motion, never fixed. To follow him is to be like him, in motion. And if God was pure motion ...
Whoever wants to follow him, Jesus sends him back to his house. He who wishes to honor his parents or his dead, let him free himself. To follow Jesus is not the religion of our fathers. It's all over. It's an incredible adventure, never heard, never seen, even after 2000 years of gospel. Even at ninety, Jesus turns us not to a utopian tomorrow, let alone to a past and deceptive past. He turns us to the urgency of the present. "Follow me!"
Commentaire puis traduction de mon texte par Jean-François Garneau.
Merci
I had a number of discussions with Scott Dodge over the bizarre way in which I am now led to understand Christ's demand to follow Him. This imperative does not only ask something of us, it also reveals something about the divine. The divine thus revealed is not something out there that can be seen, heard or grasped. It is not even a thing way out there like a destination can be (or even a horizon or something over that rainbow). It is not either some center of gravity around which our lives would make sense (what Tillich wrongly called the ground of our very being). The divine is rather more like a wind which blows one does not know from where and goes apparently nowhere, and which only provides answers of the sort that Dylan finds blowing in the wind).
The reason we have to follow Christ is that Christ is himself on the move like the wind. And he is on the move like a wind because He Himself has no destination or center of gravity. As he himself says: Sons of Men have nowhere to rest their heads in the way that foxes have dens and birds have nests. The point of following Christ is therefore not to arrive at some den or some nest, or not to step too far away from some hypothetical homey center of gravity. The Christian "myth" is about as far away from the preoccupations of the Odysseus and the search for Itacha as can be.
The way that Christ is (when He says that He is "the way") is not a course so much as life itself (that has no other purpose than itself). Christ is not the way as something opposed and different to being the truth and the life (truth and life being destinations while the way is the means to get there). No! Christ is the way in the same manner that he is life and truth. The point (and the proof) is in the living and the living in truth, not in some fundamentalist destination.
Here is the translation of this week homily on the topic of "follow me" by one priest of France whose writings I always read with great profit and pleasure. I recognized myself in what he said. He liked what I said but argued that the link he himself made about following Jesus had less to do with what I said above than with this idea that Michel de Certeau put in his head, to the effect that Christ could be compared to what Mallarmé said of Rimbaud, i.e.: that both were "considerable passerbies" (des passants considérables).
Here is my translation / paraphrase of what Patrick Royannais wrote in in his homily. And in the first comment, I put what I said on his FB page, and which adds to the stuff I just said here.
"Follow me!" (13th Sunday of the time)
Patrick Royannais
For men, it's impossible, Friday, June 28, 2019
To follow Jesus
We have to follow him because, as the text of today’s gospel says, He is just getting on his way. "As the time was coming when he was going to be taken up to heaven, Jesus, hardened his face and took the road to Jerusalem." (Lk 9: 51-62)
Double departure, towards the sky and towards Jerusalem. The hardened face is there to show the determination of his entire person. If we decide to follow Jesus, in short, we will need determination, courage, not because the end goal is the cross, but because whatever path he is following himself goes through the cross. The prospect does not look promising. Not necessarily martyrdom, but just this imperative to always let the neighbour get first priority. I still do not understand why we are so surprised at the small number of Christians. We are in fact surprisingly numerous to think we are, given that to follow Jesus is to take a road to heaven that goes through Jerusalem, the road of his passion.
Some of us imagine that being a Christian means having a given set of clear values. We hear this all the time. And yet, Jesus was condemned in the name of values: he did respect neither the Sabbath nor the sacrifices, he was always with the sinners, the delinquents. Some others, amongst us, think that being a Christian is a matter of identity, of so-called Christian roots. But it's not up to us to take care of the roots. It is he who is the vine, we are merely branches. Let us take care of the fruit and leave to him the question of the identity of the vine as a whole. That’s his business. There are still others who believe that being a Christian is a matter of doctrine. And yet, in the gospel, faith is always the act of relying on Jesus, like him to the Father, not justified true beliefs in articles of faith [pre-certified “orthodoxy proof” by some Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith –the very Delenda Est institution].
Enough, then, with Christianity as values, as identity, or as articles of faith, so. To be a Christian is to follow Jesus. To follow him, first, because he can obviously only be the first. His way of being the first often makes him look like all he cares about is to be behind, because the first are last, as he says, but also because he picks up all those who drag on the way, but still, "he loved us first".
To follow Jesus. To be on that very way that he claims to be. With Jesus, one has never done it all. [One never arrives for one has never finished. He is a way, not a destination.]. It's like with friends. We always remain in their debt. "Have no debt amongst you, except that of love." And so it is with Jesus. We are never over and done with him – that sort of question does not even arise - it's just our life.
Following is the act of being on a path, it is not an end state. We have never finished to be a disciple. One never finally becomes a Christian, once and for all, it is never acquired. We must remain in his love. It's like being married, it's not enough to say yes one day, it's an answer every day. It is like being the member of a religious order, it is not enough to have said yes one day, it is an answer of every day.
We can only follow Jesus by practising. To follow Jesus is to be a practicing Christian. In the sense that the gospel gives to the word “practising”, and not in the sense that sociologists (and us with them) give to it. We have to put the word into practice. We can not follow Jesus by resting on what we once have done with him, our baptism, the café, our communions as people say.
What matters are not fixed things, or landmarks, but steps that are, by definition, so many states of imbalance. When we follow Jesus, we are put in a position of disequilibrium. Nothing else holds. We understand that some, distraught, want to find something to hang on to. Yet, every reference is illusory, even when we follow Jesus. How not to lose one’s footing, in such circumstances? "Do not be afraid [Jesus tells us, when it feels like he is asking us to walk on water]!" Nothing is determined once and for all in our lives. Our decision to follow Jesus is to be repeated at every step. Jesus knows it. "The foxes have dens, the birds of the sky have nests; but the Son of man has no place to rest his head. "
We can not follow Jesus to rest on some soft quilt of certainties, be they religious ones. No place to rest one’s head. The only determination is that of Jesus, of his person. If it is necessary to follow Jesus, it is because he is always in motion, never fixed. To follow him is to be like him, in motion. And if God was pure motion ...
Whoever wants to follow him, Jesus sends him back to his house. He who wishes to honor his parents or his dead, let him free himself. To follow Jesus is not the religion of our fathers. It's all over. It's an incredible adventure, never heard, never seen, even after 2000 years of gospel. Even at ninety, Jesus turns us not to a utopian tomorrow, let alone to a past and deceptive past. He turns us to the urgency of the present. "Follow me!"
Pensez aussi à ce que ça veut dire de Dieu qu'il nous demande de le suivre, à savoir que lui aussi est en marche. Il ne nous dit pas viens me rejoindre, ou vis dans mon orbite, mais suis-moi. Regarde-moi bien aller. ... Et dans l'évangile d'aujourd'hui, quelqu'un essaie de limiter le suis-moi du Christ en disant: Je te suivrai jusqu'où tu ailles. Et c'est à cette idée que Dieu ne serait en marche que vers une destination toute hégélienne de fin de l'histoire que le Christ répond, en pratique: Je n'ai pas de destination. Je ne te demande pas de me suivre parce que je vais quelque part mais parce que la vie dont je me réclame est un mouvement qui se suffit à lui-même, sans port d'attache et sans destination. Ce sont les renards qui ont des tanières et les oiseaux qui ont des nids. Les fils d'homme n'ont pas de ce genre d'oreillers où reposer leur tête.
RépondreSupprimerMerci
Supprimer