Me: Yes, my tomato-sized amniotic mariner of a child?
Kid: Why am I here?
Me: Oh! Uh... Well, you see, when a bird and a bee love each other very, very much...
Kid: No, I mean teleologically speaking.
Me: Ohhh, like what's your purpose. Well, the Catechism says our purpose is to know, love, and serve God in this world and be happy with Him forever in the next.
Kid: Huh. I didn't expect it to be that simple.
Me: Give it a minute.
Kid: Waaaaaait.....
Me: There it is.
Kid: How, specifically, am I supposed to—
Me: That, my friend, is The Question. Sadly, neither I nor any other mortal can tell you how best to serve God in this world. Part of your task is figuring out what your task is. I have often reflected that the destiny of man is like unto that of a Special Forces operative who parachuted in behind enemy lines, hit his head, and forgot his mission.
Kid: That is not helpful.
Me: 'Swhat I got, kid. Good luck.
"Parenting fail, bro."
The Brits used to spell "cooperate" with a hyphen (or even, sometimes, an umlaut). I kind of like that spelling because it emphasizes the idea of operating, in the sense of taking action. The idea of cooperation seems to connote a passive element these days: if I cooperate with you, I go along with your suggestions, whatever they might be. But when we speak of co-operating with Divine Grace, it really should be hyphenated. God can't operate in me unless I operate through Him, with Him, and in Him.
No two people are more different than two saints. A saint is a being who has finally and ultimately become a person, a soul that is finished and real. We are all of us potential persons here on Earth, hopefully working with God to scuff away the accretions of meanness on our hearts and hone our spirits into actuality. If we get to Heaven, God willing (and He does), it will mean that we've become not only what He meant us to be, but what we have meant ourselves to be. "For it seemeth good to the Holy Spirit and to us" (Acts 15:28). Every sin, redeemed, becomes the specific grace that heals that specific sin. A man of sloth, redeemed, becomes a man of zeal. So out of all our choices, even sinful ones, God (if we work with Him) brings virtues that are infinitely particular to each of us. God doesn't need me to be St. Francis of Assisi. He's already got one of those. He needs me to be St. James Blaise Toner.
The intersection of Time and Eternity is now. I can't escape from Time, from being confined to a single facet of me-ness instead of fully being all of the me that I have it in me to be, except by co-operating with Grace right now, at this particular moment. If I do that at each moment, through all of the moments, then all of those moments become infused and united by that Grace, and I become a whole and integrated soul, and thus I become eternal. And what that so often boils down to, in practice, is: shall I do this tiny little duty, or shall I say the hell with it? Do I help my kid with her homework, or have another beer and tell her to Google it? And even more terrifying than my responsibility for my own soul is this: how responsible am I for her soul, if she should learn irresponsibility from me? St. Augustine became St. Augustine because of the Grace of God and the choices of St. Augustine, but also because of the prayers of his mother, St. Monica. I've got to keep working on becoming St. Me, so that my kid has the best possible chance of becoming St. My Kid.
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