Mtr. Emily’s March Note to the Parish: “I have to” or “I choose to”?

You know how many people (children and adults!) will sometimes exclaim, “I need this”? When we were little, my parents were unfailing in correcting us about the difference between “need” and “want.” “Do you need that particular bag of cereal at the grocery store, or do you really, really want it?” If we insisted that we needed something, we were asked, “Why do you need it? What will happen if you don’t have it?” And of course it all boiled down to the very dramatic question: “Will you be very sick without it? Will you die without it?”

While it was sometimes unnecessarily intense, ultimately I’m glad that they were careful with how we all used these words–to want, to need. It’s true that there’s a difference. Using our words carefully can help shape how we interact with the world. (Now that we three kids are grown up, the family has embraced a wider sense of the word “need,” but it’s still something we’re careful about!)

There are two other sets of words that I think are related and just as important: 

“I can’t” vs. “I won’t”, 
and “I have to” vs. “I’m choosing to.”

These differences are important for all ages when we think about accessibility. One of the things that makes a disability accommodation different from a mere preference is precisely that—it’s not “I want it” or “I won’t”! An accommodation is because “I need it” or “I can’t.” Disability accommodations are not about able-bodied strangers’ expectations of me, but about what I (and various relevant medical and scientific experts) know that I need in order to be present, safe, and fully participating. Able-bodied people can learn a lot from those of us with disabilities, because we have to learn to be honest with ourselves about our limitations—honest, and unashamed! 

The differences between these words are also important for building up our own honesty with ourselves and with those around us. Do I really have to do this? In what way do I have to? Do I have to do this for these people to like me? Or do I have to if I want to keep my health insurance, or keep my apartment? In other words—what will happen if I don’t? Why do I think that I have to?

In our inner narration, when we start to replace “I have to” with “I choose to,” it helps us be honest about why we choose certain things.

“I have to have dinner with my family” could become “I’m choosing to have dinner with my family because if I don’t there will be a big fight that I want to avoid,” or “I’m choosing to have dinner with my family because I want to spend time with them even though I’m exhausted.” 

“I can’t talk with her again” could become “I won’t talk with her again because our relationship is not worth how upsetting I find it,” or it could become “I won’t talk with her again until I can find a way to be calm when we talk.” Explaining the choice helps us to be honest about our motivations. It can also help us see a way out from what we thought was a dead-end.

One of the most exciting things about being a Christian is that it sets us free completely from the need to follow all of society’s expectations—the only person we follow is Jesus. We often choose to do things like other people do, but we don’t necessarily need to. The claim “I’m just following orders” or “I don’t want to rock the boat” will never be a sufficient defense for a Christian’s actions. Christian martyrs—like Janani Luwum, who we remembered last month—show us the ultimate example of how we do not need to do what the world tells us.  “What do I actually need to do—and why?” is a real ethical question that each person and parish and Church is always trying to answer.

Lent is an exciting time because it invites us to pare back and notice—what do I need? What do I actually have to do, in this walk with God? Lent invites us to look at what we lack and be unashamed, simply ready to ask for God’s help. Lent is also a time where we can notice when we have missed the mark, and be bold in saying, “I’m choosing to change.”

Oddly enough, our Strategic Planning process in the parish is a chance to do the same thing. What do we think we need to do—and why do we think that? Can we be honest about what is really beyond our abilities at the moment—can we be unashamed of saying, “I can’t”? And for that matter, can we be honest about when we are choosing not to do something, and say why we won’t? 

Honesty can be frightening, but Jesus is there in it. Noticing our real freedom can be frightening, but Jesus is there in it.

This prayer by Saint Faustina, often called “Prayer for the Present Moment,” expresses a little bit of this great freedom that we have. 

O My God,
When I look into the future, I am frightened,
But why plunge into the future?
Only the present moment is precious to me,
As the future may never enter my soul at all.

It is no longer in my power to change, correct, or add to the past;
For neither sages nor prophets could do that.
And so what the past has embraced I must entrust to God.

O present moment, you belong to me, whole and entire.
I desire to use you as best I can.
And although I am weak and small,
You grant me the grace of Your omnipotence.

And so, trusting in Your mercy,
I walk through life like a little child,
Offering You each day this heart 
Burning with love for Your greater Glory.
Amen.

4 March 2026
The Third Wednesday in Lent