When the Relationship Becomes a Checklist

I can pinpoint the moment when I unintentionally created a lot of problems for myself. I was a senior in college, very close to graduation. I sat in one of my engineering classes and I had this terrible thought that would haunt me for a long time. I thought, “People like us design airplanes.” Those five words plunged me into a massive sea of anxiety.

A few years later I remember sitting on an airplane for a business trip. I was sweating and very uncomfortable, fearing that the plane — designed by people like me — would fall apart midair while we sailed through clear, calm air at 38,000 feet. I took my pulse: 170 beats per minute.

I knew I had to fix this problem. I did not want to go through life like this, especially since I had a job that required travel. So I decided to get my pilot’s license. I concluded there must be something I did not know, because my fear that airplanes fall apart did not line up with the evidence. Planes almost never fall apart.

I did learn a lot in the process of getting that license. One thing the instructors drill into your head relentlessly is that you must do your checklists every time, without exception. There is a pre-flight checklist you go through before you fly. There were about thirty-five items on the list, and you would go through each of them carefully. The instructor claimed, “Take care of your airplane and it will take care of you.”

It always felt weird to hear that phrase — “it will take care of you” — but I went along with the concept at the time. The problem with that statement is that it is not actually true. The airplane is a thing. It is a machine, a non-thinking object. There is no way to have a real relationship with a thing. We interact with things. We make use of them. We do not have a relationship with them. Things cannot “take care” of anyone. They do whatever the laws of physics dictate. They will heartlessly do whatever they are going to do, even if that results in bad things for humans. There is not a meaningful relationship there.

The Gospel is all about relationship, and Mark chapter 13 is no exception. In the story of the coming of the Son of Man, Jesus says he will be seen coming in the clouds with great power and glory. He will gather his elect from the four winds, from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.

That can sound like a scary image. Most people do not like random, uncontrolled things showing up out of nowhere that will then have a massive impact on their lives. Those who are gathered are the elect — the people who live with God in heaven. The others do not. Whenever this happens, it will have a major impact on everyone.

When something is out of control and scary, the typical response is to find a way to add control. That will make it less scary. What would that look like here? Some people want to change the way they relate to God. They want to convert the relationship into a checklist. If I do this list of tasks, then I can be certain I will be among the elect. If someone falls to that temptation, they will have a checklist relationship with God. They might be tempted to go through the motions and check everything off — whatever that list is.

That is a terrible thing if it happens. There is no actual relationship. It is just going through the motions. It turns God into a thing. It would be like saying, “If I take care of God, then God will take care of me.” It makes no sense.

God has given us other relationships so we can learn what a real one feels like. An employer relationship can be driven by a checklist. You give me this, this, and this, and I will give you a paycheck and let you come back next week. That is not love. It is transactional.

A healthy parent-child relationship is not about checking items off a list. It is about tuning in and doing what is good for the other person. Married life is not intended to be transactional either. It is not a list of things each person has to do for the other. If that is what is happening in a marriage, it is tragically lifeless. Checklists take over the space that love should fill.

Our relationship with God can be equally filled with love. When that happens, we get to experience God and respond in the moment. One common way we experience God is through the people in our lives. If we are blinded by checklists, we might not see the opportunities right in front of us to give and receive love.

Mark chapter 13 ends with a line that is a blessing. Jesus is talking about the gathering of the elect, and he says that of that day or hour no one knows — not the angels in heaven, not the Son, only the Father. How fortunate that God did not give a due date. If he had, we might be tempted to delay. We might not care much about the relationship until we got close to the end.

That would be like waiting to foster a relationship with your child or your spouse until you were on your deathbed. That is not a great time to start.

If your pulse is still high in a seat that is not falling, start by naming the list you are using as a substitute for a relationship. Not “I am anxious.” The actual list. Thirty-five items before the plane moves. The prayers you treat as a lock. The chores you think will make a marriage safe. The work you think will make God owe you. Write the items down. If you cannot see the list, it will keep running the room while you call it love.

A checklist can keep a plane in the air. Use it where it belongs. Pre-flight is a good list. A person is not a good list. This week, take one relationship you have been managing with tasks and replace one item with attention. Sit with the person. Ask what they need. Do the good thing that is in front of you instead of the next box. You will feel unprotected. That feeling is the 170 talking. It is not proof the plane is coming apart.

When the anxiety spikes, do not add a longer list. Longer lists are how we try to buy certainty God did not put on the calendar. Put a hand on your chest, notice the pulse, and ask whether this moment is a machine problem or a person problem. If it is a machine problem, do the real checklist. If it is a person, put the clipboard down and look at them.

Do not wait for a due date to start. There is not one. A deathbed is a poor place to begin knowing your child, your spouse, or God. The gathering, if it comes like weather, will not pause so you can catch up on the relationship you postponed. Tune in now. That is how you leave the seat that is not falling.

This is a pastoral reflection, not clinical care and not a substitute for it. If you or someone you love is in immediate danger, call 988 or local emergency services.

Drawn from a homily first preached in 2024.