Wrong Lane

A few years ago I was at a Catholic retreat and some questions came up about the Eucharist. Other people around me felt it was their problem to solve. I'm not sure it was. A reflection on John 1:19–28.

Wrong Lane
Photo by Sebastian Blumberg / Unsplash

John 1:19–28

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• who are you?
• I am not the Christ
• I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness
• among you stands one you do not know

Applying the Word to My Life:
The priests and Levites came from Jerusalem with a list of questions for John. Are you the Christ? Elijah? The Prophet? Each time, the answer was no. They were running out of options and asked him who he was.

John told them he was a voice.

John had three chances to claim something more. He didn't take any of them. The answer he gave wasn't even a title — not a role, not a name. Just a function. A voice pointing toward someone else.

John knew what he was there to do and kept right within his mission. I've always wondered about the priests and Levites — I could never understand why finding a label for John mattered so much to them. Whatever their role was supposed to be, their questions had taken them somewhere well outside of it.

A few years ago I was at a Catholic retreat. It was a mixed group — some Catholics, some not. At Mass, a couple of the non-Catholics received the Eucharist. Some of the other participants were upset about it. They saw what happened and felt like someone needed to address it.

I saw the same thing, but I also saw the priest was right there. He knew what had happened and knew the people and their faith backgrounds. He was responsible for how the sacrament was administered, and he had far more context than any of us did — for all I knew he had already spoken with those people before Mass ever started. That was his to deal with.

This made me stop and think about all the times I had let myself get wrapped up in things that were outside of my lane. When I find myself focused on something that isn't mine to handle, it is almost never about the thing I'm focused on. It is about avoiding something else that is mine.

The things that actually belong to me tend to be the ones I least want to look at. They ask uncomfortable questions. They push me somewhere I would rather not go, or require me to do something I have been putting off. Someone else's problem gives me somewhere to be without asking anything of me. It feels like engagement. It usually isn't.

For that retreat — the more difficult question was whether or not I was in a good place with my relationship with Christ. That always takes some uncomfortable self-reflection, looking at my life and where I'm not living my mission.

But John points the way. He just points back to his mission. Not because he's being modest — because he knows exactly what his assignment is and where it ends. He is a voice. He points toward the one who is coming. That is the full extent of it.

When we know exactly what isn't ours to handle, we are completely free to do what we have been called to do. No energy lost on the wrong thing. No distractions pulling us off our mission.

What's in your lane right now that you're not looking at? What are you focused on instead?

My Response for Today:
Today I will identify one thing that is mine to deal with — and one thing I have been treating as mine that isn't.