Force of habit. Momentum. The rut.
Whatever we call it, there’s no denying that our routine, our habits are powerful.
When we’re confronted with a problem in life, nine times out of ten the biggest obstacle to dealing with it isn’t the actual solution. Mostly, we’re pretty good at sorting out what we need to do. We can figure it out.
But we still don’t do it. Because the biggest obstacle to dealing with it isn’t the actual solution.
It’s us. Our routine, our habits.
It can be hard to see this in ourselves. Not because it’s not there. But because we don’t like to admit that we are our own greatest enemy.
Let’s do something that’s a lot easier. Taking a hard look at someone else’s problem. So we can criticize them.
Look at today’s Gospel. Jesus has just delivered two people from demonic possession. You would think that their neighbors and friends would be overjoyed.
You’ve got two dangerous people. So dangerous that nobody could use the road out of town without being attacked by them.
Thanks to Jesus, now they’re okay. And even if you don’t care about them, now everybody’s safe. Nobody has to worry about being attacked anymore.
And their response to Jesus? Please leave.
Why? Because Jesus messed with their routine, their habits.
But what Jesus did was good for them, in so many ways? Right. But it still messed with their normal.
The problem with that? The normal that Jesus disrupted was unhealthy. And then some.
Why? Because their routine, their habits had created a normal that had no place for God. Or that kept God in the Sunday-only box.
That’s the only way you get the kind of mess that they were dealing with.
It’s easy to criticize something that extreme. But the unhappy truth is that each of us has within us the potential to become just as lost in our own routine. Just as separated from God in our habits.
It may not take the horrifying form of separation that we see in today’s Gospel. But you and I are totally capable of letting ourselves drift into a deeply unhealthy – even dangerous – normal.
It’s not something that happens quickly. It’s subtle. The work of years and inches. Unknowing. Unthinking. Until something goes horribly wrong. And you realize how far you’ve fallen. How far away you are from God.
Our only protection? Our only hope? God.
But making that leap back to where we need to be is hard. Even though it’s our only hope, setting everything right all at once is no small thing.
Our reaction to that kind of seismic shift? It’s going to look a lot like the people in today’s Gospel. Please leave.
So instead, let’s do one thing. Something intentional. But something so small, you can’t fail.
Create a micro habit. An intentional place for God. In every day.
Set an alarm on your phone. For the same time every day. When it goes off, say the Lord’s Prayer.
That’s it. That’s all it takes.
Do that for 32 days. And you’ll have a new routine, a new habit. An intentional place for God. In every day.
When you do, it’s going to grow. After the first one, you’ll create another place for God. Then another.
Not because you have to. Not because “it’s good for you.”
But because it feels so good. And you want to.
You’ll keep doing it. And one day, you’ll realize that your routine, your habits support you.
Because they’re filled, and you’re filled, with the God who loves you.
