Failing in good conscience

The title of this article is the subject line of an email I sent to a professor not long ago. My final paper for the class was due that night; and though he had mentioned in class that we should feel free to email him for extensions, I had determined for myself that I would not buckle under the pressure of my exam schedule. I intended to finish that paper the night it was officially due. So I did not email him to request an extension – until an hour before the deadline. When I did email him, I considered my need to ask for the extension a failure, especially because I had to ask for it at the last minute; but as soon as I admitted that I needed it, I was incredibly relieved. I knew he would grant my request, so the extension depended only upon my acceptance of it. My personal stubbornness caused me far more anxiety than any external stricture did.

I suspect that this hard-headed determination is not a problem unique to me. I remember that Holy Cross Father Kevin Grove gave a wonderful homily at one of our graduation Masses in the spring about how the hardest lesson we graduates may have yet to learn is that we are sheep, as Jesus tells us (John 10), and sheep cannot lead themselves. They scatter abroad or they huddle together; they comically cannot identify any good destination; and they cannot, by nature, lead anywhere. Father Kevin used this point to remind us, in the midst of the pomp and circumstance of being Notre Dame graduates that, as much as we may try to be leaders in our lives, ultimately, we are sheep. We cannot lead ourselves. We must follow the voice of Christ.

This season, I need to follow the voice of Christ back to his wailing in the manger. My stubbornness and pride made me decide that I knew what was best for my paper and for my finals week, even though I knew I was placing a heavy and (in the end, evidently) impossible yoke on my own shoulders. But Jesus did not become a beast of burden; he became a baby. He chose to accept years of humble dependence on others for even the most basic necessities. He reminds me that it is not truly a failure to accept mercies such as paper extensions.

Only when I remember that I am a sheep and Christ is my shepherd can I fail in good conscience. I simply fail to lead myself, and it is fittingly so. God may lead me to pastures that I do not think I deserve, or that I think I dislike; but my decisions are not best. I am a sheep. The psalmist said God led him to green pastures; perhaps I should follow and see.