Twenty Feet Away
There once was a man who, one evening, found himself on his hands and knees on the ground near a streetlight, looking for something along the sidewalk.
He searched and searched, giving more energy and attention to his efforts. After a while, a police officer walked by and noticed what this man was doing. Eventually, the officer asked, “What are you looking for? Can I help?” The man responded, “Yes, I’ve lost my keys, but as hard as I try, I can’t find them.” The officer paused, thought and asked a second question, “Okay. First things first. Where did you lose your keys?” The man looked up and pointed 20 feet away, into the darkness of the night. “Over there,” he admitted, “but I’m afraid of the dark.”
I heard this story recently — this modern-day parable. To be honest, I recognize myself in this story. I think most of us can relate to it. How often do we search and search for the right thing, with the right fervor, the right commitment and the right heart? Yet, we look in the wrong place. We look in the light. We look where we can see easily and are familiar with our surroundings where we feel safe and in control: and where we aren’t afraid.
Often, what we look for is just 20 feet away. It is in the dark of the unknown or unseen, the forgotten. It’s where our fears lurk.
Often, we talk about discipleship and faith in terms of external acts of doing or as an internal belief that Jesus is the Son of God. Both of those things are part of the Gospel, but I believe the work of faith starts with a willingness and action to start searching in our internal darkness. With a willingness to face our fear and a willingness to look in the black of night where we become aware of just how much we can’t see. A willingness to step away from the things that feel achievable and safe, comfortable and predictable, into a space where we confront our real fears over our shortcomings, our inadequacies and our shame.
That is what penitential seasons offer us (i.e., Advent and Lent). They give us dedicated space to remember and reflect on our internal darkness — and the fear we have about facing it. Because until we do, we will never find what we’re really looking for. Our hearts will remain restless. It is only as we venture into the darkness that we can discover the One in whom there is no fear, only perfect Light and perfect Love.
“In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (1 John 1:4-5)
