Failures as stepping stones

I know one thing for sure, I do not determine the success or failure of the things I am engaged in. Though I would desire success in all that I do, I do not succeed in achieving it; I am not able to say if there is something basically lacking in me, or if I am expecting far too much from life. I do have a good share of success in life, and for that I would ever be grateful to God; there were times when my companions and friends had envied me, and I had floated in vain glory. I even thought that I was smarter than what I had been imagining myself to be, or what others had thought me to be. But at the end of the day, I cannot help but admit that I am a mixture of success and failures in life, and I cannot hold on only to successes, for the real stepping stones in life are failures.

The world around me insists that success in life is the yardstick to measure the worth of life, but if that be the case a good majority of the human population would be condemned to failure in life, because what they had managed to achieve in life in terms of success are too negligible to mention. I know that success alone cannot be the indicator of how I have fared in life; I need to look for some other objective criteria, which will help me to assess my own self and that of others. Unfortunately the whole world may shout in unison that I was a utter failure in life and had not scored well in the examination of life, even if I had done my best. But I know with God there is a different kind of yardstick, and here he would look at my efforts and not so much the fruits of my labor.

Everyone around me looks at the fruits of my labor, if they are sweet or sour. There is not a single soul who would appreciate sour, but everyone would go in unison for the sweet. But the sour moments alone help a person to appreciate the beauty and wonder of the sweet. I had been overly conscious of achieving success in life, and in the meantime had failed to live life as it came to me with all its innumerable hues and colors. I had failed miserably to taste what life offered me, and even if I had succeeded in life from the point of view of the world, I have failed miserably before the Lord and before my own inner self. I had resisted the moments of my failure and cursed everyone who had made me fail in life, because it came as a bitter moment for me; it would take a life time for me to understand the secret behind every failure I had walked through.

If every single person were to succeed in life, and does not experience failure, then life would be quite different. It is only because there are failures that we could strive towards success, but there are moments when we find it hard to rise up from the fall and continue further in life. There are the moments we long for a helping hand, and who else but God stretches out his hand on the Cross and helps us to hold on to the wooden frame which is the ultimate symbol of failure. If the Son of God had gone through the ultimate symbol of failure, what is there for me to accept miniscule minute failures, which may not even leave behind their traces in my life. It is the crucified Lord who accepted joyfully the shame of utter failure, which could give me the sight to see the wonder of embracing failures when they come my way!

There is nothing more shocking and embarrassing for me than the moment of failures; this is the most unwanted reality in my life, and in fact there is not a single soul on earth, who would willingly and joyfully welcome failure. This is the unwelcome friend who alone can help us understand and appreciate the hard way to face reality. Today I stand to welcome every failure which may come knocking at my door, because it is only when I embrace it joyfully that I can enter into the very mystery of the Cross, and then I may find my way to the mystery of the resurrection, a success which may far surpass anything I could ever think of. This perhaps is the way of the kenosis, the self-emptying love of the Lord for his people. If I want to partake of the paschal mystery, then there is no other way than the path of failures, shame, scandal and humiliation which the crucified Lord walked through. Today this could be my way too to find fulfillment and true joy in life.

Protesting the Penury

Two incidents of two different sorts, and I was involved, at least remotely with them. I was reminded of the fact that I could be so easily taken for a ride, taken as a gullible! Morning one of the police officers came to our house for the verification for passport, and took home rupees one thousand from two of my friends; he was sure shameless, and more than him we were shameless too to part with such an amount of money, in order to avoid dire consequences, of the passport receipt delay indefinitely, and getting into unnecessary trouble. We wanted to avoid getting into trouble by paying an hefty bribe to the government servant. We had no voice to say no to him, leave alone protest his illegal and illegitimate behavior. I wondered if we are not the ones who create thieves, bandits, criminals and terrorists? We give them asylum in order to save our own skin, and are happy that nothing untoward can happen to us. We build castles in the air, and wish to remain there up in the sky, without any link to the situations we live in.

Through out the day, I was disturbed by the shouting of a group of men and women just outside our office, and I was quite annoyed about it. So after dinner, I had taken a stroll to find out who they were and what they were shouting for. I thought there would be about 10 to 15 men standing around the microphone and shouting slogans, but when I reached the spot, I was surprised to see about 200 men and a few women in front of a government office. Needless to say it was a protest meeting, and the whole day they had been trying to protest something which the management might have imposed on them. It was 8.30 pm, and the men were there to fight for their cause. There were some politically oriented leaders raising their voice each time the audience started to clap. Protest! Often we are frightened of protesting, lest even the little privileges we get should be stopped. And that is what gives the other party courage to continue the exploitation.

I remember someone saying, if you are not with the victim, then you are with the victimizer; if you are not with the exploited, then you are in the company of the exploiters. Unfortunately there is no in-between; you need to take your sides. We would very much like to sit on the fense, so that we are not accused or targeted by either of the groups, but fortunately we have to make a choice. In either way, we are challenged and questioned, if not by the people around, but at least by our conscience. In everything we do, we wish to be secure; we will not desire that the peace and security that we enjoy be ever disturbed. We would not mind even the silence of the cemetery, rather than the vibrant noise of protest marches. As soon as when a little trouble crops up, we wish to hush things up, and live in relative peace. But today we may ask ourselves what is real peace.

Protest basically invites us to take a side, often challenging us to take the side of the victims. It is in fact, the acid test for our conscience and impartiality. If we truly love justice and peace, then we cannot take the side of the people who are determined to give a decent burial to peace initiatives. Protest also demands something more than what I can normally offer. The consequences of protests are frightening, especially for the people who wish to live a peaceful life. If you are going to protest against injustice caused not only to you, but to others as well, then you are in for trouble. I remember a time many years ago, when walking along fruit stalls in Chennai, I passed by a foreigner buying fruits, and the shopkeeper demanding about rupees one hundred and fifty instead of rupees thirty five. Since the foreigner did not know the local language, he was about to give the amount. I happened to see the scene, and told the foreigner in English that he needed to give only rupees thirty five. The shopkeeper was furious; he began to curse me, telling me what it mattered to me! I walked away quickly from the spot.

I look at the different incidents that had taken place today, and the many people I had come in contact with; surely there will be several instances when I had kept quiet not to disturb the peace around, either in the family or in the office. Let me recall to mind, just one moment when I needed to have protested, but had kept quiet. Maybe I was too frightened of the consequences; but today let me become aware of such moments, so that even if I have to keep myself quiet when blatant violation to justice is done, I may be aware that that is not what I have to do; not merely for the sake of my own welfare, but more for the welfare of humanity. All great men and women of yesteryears had raised their voice against injustice and had paid a huge price. Am I prepared at least to become conscious of my inability to protest?