Oh so many things are happening, or happenings are thinging. With a recently heard priestly admonition in mind, that the prayer prayed is infinitely more valuable than the prayer one intends to pray, I turn to the task of blogging hoping to establish some reliability here, allowing the words to flow as words are inclined to do when one allows that time, God willing, instead of waiting for some extraordinary signal to begin again - for what is extraordinary if not waking up on the first Sunday of Advent? Or any other day, for that matter....
The first Sunday of Advent - and the first day of Hanukkah. I have almost completely driven the word "coincidence" from my vocabulary, so I will say I am glad for the dual-occurrence and would like to see more of it. The Maccabees clean the temple and light the Menorah in praise of God; Christians arrange their houses and churches to accommodate trees and decorations, appropriately festooned with lights, in anticipation of God incarnate and eternal.It is a truly joyous time of year.
Advent marks the beginning of the liturgical year. In practical terms, this means a new cycle of readings at Mass. It also means moving over to volume 1 of the Divine Office if you use the same Catholic Book Publishing version that I use, being the standard, correct Liturgy of the Hours. There are other correct versions - many others, I deduce - but this is not the place to go into all that nor will it ever be (cf. "the prayer prayed, etc.....). A comment by Father Gabriel at the Vigil Mass last night, where I read, struck me - to the effect that the penitential character of Advent is in deepening one's prayer life (whereas Lent is defined by the Lord's Passion). I was happy to be given that insight. I have heard of the penitential character of Advent, but it was described in terms more in keeping with Lent - fasting and such. Penance in prayer seems more in keeping with the theme and intent of Advent, as we anticipate the coming of the Lord.
It makes even better sense to me, this notion of Advent, as last year around this time - on the third Sunday of Lent - I began to attend Holy Rosary, a Dominican priory here in Portland, Oregon. I soon began praying the Divine Office, tentatively at first, learning my way around, and attending morning Mass at Holy Rosary where, on weekdays, the Office is prayed afterward. My prayer life has deepened and so too has my life in the Church (the universal Church) even though I may not spend as much time at Holy Rosary or be involved in as many activities as I was at Saint Stephen. Saint Stephen was in the third year of transitioning when I left it - transitioning from a fairly low key, pleasant, and rather sweet parish to a much more traditional one, so the emphasis and presiding tone was on becoming more Catholic, or defining one's Catholicity against the rubric of contemporary life. The tone and intent at Holy Rosary is more in the nature of going about one's business as a devout Catholic, which I found compelling and necessary for myself and my family.
The point here is in establishing how time and place determine one's decisions. The prayer prayed is infinitely more valuable than the prayer one intends to pray: living one's faith is infinitely more valuable than merely intending or planning to do so at some future time, or in even considering that there is any real impediment to a full relationship with God now, right now, regardless of where you go to church, what the liturgy looks and feels like, and whether you pray in Latin, English, Mandarin, or Greek. The Lord is coming: if you know this, you must act and live accordingly. So light your candles, trim your trees, wrap your presents, and spread good cheer. The kingdom of heaven is at hand.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Sunday, September 16, 2018
Affiliation Blues
It's interesting what we pick up on the street. I mean if one bothers to leave one's home in the first place. But to look around and stop, here and there; comparing and contrasting this and that. Feeling. Thinking. Choosing.
I am of two minds, whether we are our choices or are simply the effect of having chosen. Two people might get along very well who have made very different choices, but having engaged with their lives to a similar degree or such, they see eye to eye.
I am interested in choice, as you are too, I'm sure. And I am interested in choosing not to choose. The terms of commitment and contract interest me. Certain personal commitments are, top my way of thinking, inviolate; or they are until they no longer qualify. How do we decide these things? No objective measure suffices, or sways, where ultimately the individual must say Yes or No.
One's affiliations define one's moral position in a very real sense. We have all experienced dismay or disappointment with this or that institution or practice.
To be specific: at this point in my life, does the Catholic Church support me, or am I supporting the Catholic Church? This is not a question resolved by dogma. It is a relational, trust-bound issue, observed from a life that bears many commitments. Insofar as I owe it to myself, to others, and to God, to be honest, I can assert easily that I do not trust the ecclesiastical body of the Catholic Church. I do not trust it; I am not fond of it. I do not look forward to its half-baked pronouncements on this or that crisis. I do not enjoy the prospect of being told to do things that are good for me by people who cannot control the actions of their ministers and peers and, as is sometimes the case, their very selves.
I am not more fond of hypocrisy, being Catholic, than I was before I became Catholic. That makes being a practicing Catholic rather difficult at this time.
I am glad and grateful that I have delved into my religion as deeply as I have, because it has corrected lazy thoughts and notions and given me a more solid basis for reflection and action on moral issues than I have ever had. But I do not trust the church, and in fact I do not especially like it. Not now. As fond as I am of God, I am not inclined to throw a lot of support to an institution that has treated Him and children and young adults as poorly as has the ecclesiastical body of the Catholic Church. Going to Mass these days does not free me or inform me in any way. Rather, I feel like I am doing the work of putting up a kind of show of support. And I am tired of it. I have a wife and child. I have a job, and I have myself. My concern for the disposition of the Catholic Church and its supporters is fixed at a pretty distant indeed.
I will not mitigate my thoughts and feelings or attempt to put on a brave countenance. I will not play the paper saint. Instead, I will speak from my heart as God wants me to do.
And so I say, when the ecclesiastical body of the Catholic Church has made meaningful, realistic progress in curing itself of the crimes its members have committed (and surely continue to commit), I may forgive it. I may, or I may not. That is my choice.
I am glad God has given me a conscience by which to say Yes or No. I hope I have the courage to acknowledge deflection and nonsense when I see it or hear it. I pray I have the courage to be honest - imagine that - regardless what the circumstances or prospects are for reconciliation.
Enough of speeches and empty show.
God have mercy on us all.
I am of two minds, whether we are our choices or are simply the effect of having chosen. Two people might get along very well who have made very different choices, but having engaged with their lives to a similar degree or such, they see eye to eye.
I am interested in choice, as you are too, I'm sure. And I am interested in choosing not to choose. The terms of commitment and contract interest me. Certain personal commitments are, top my way of thinking, inviolate; or they are until they no longer qualify. How do we decide these things? No objective measure suffices, or sways, where ultimately the individual must say Yes or No.
One's affiliations define one's moral position in a very real sense. We have all experienced dismay or disappointment with this or that institution or practice.
To be specific: at this point in my life, does the Catholic Church support me, or am I supporting the Catholic Church? This is not a question resolved by dogma. It is a relational, trust-bound issue, observed from a life that bears many commitments. Insofar as I owe it to myself, to others, and to God, to be honest, I can assert easily that I do not trust the ecclesiastical body of the Catholic Church. I do not trust it; I am not fond of it. I do not look forward to its half-baked pronouncements on this or that crisis. I do not enjoy the prospect of being told to do things that are good for me by people who cannot control the actions of their ministers and peers and, as is sometimes the case, their very selves.
I am not more fond of hypocrisy, being Catholic, than I was before I became Catholic. That makes being a practicing Catholic rather difficult at this time.
I am glad and grateful that I have delved into my religion as deeply as I have, because it has corrected lazy thoughts and notions and given me a more solid basis for reflection and action on moral issues than I have ever had. But I do not trust the church, and in fact I do not especially like it. Not now. As fond as I am of God, I am not inclined to throw a lot of support to an institution that has treated Him and children and young adults as poorly as has the ecclesiastical body of the Catholic Church. Going to Mass these days does not free me or inform me in any way. Rather, I feel like I am doing the work of putting up a kind of show of support. And I am tired of it. I have a wife and child. I have a job, and I have myself. My concern for the disposition of the Catholic Church and its supporters is fixed at a pretty distant indeed.
I will not mitigate my thoughts and feelings or attempt to put on a brave countenance. I will not play the paper saint. Instead, I will speak from my heart as God wants me to do.
And so I say, when the ecclesiastical body of the Catholic Church has made meaningful, realistic progress in curing itself of the crimes its members have committed (and surely continue to commit), I may forgive it. I may, or I may not. That is my choice.
I am glad God has given me a conscience by which to say Yes or No. I hope I have the courage to acknowledge deflection and nonsense when I see it or hear it. I pray I have the courage to be honest - imagine that - regardless what the circumstances or prospects are for reconciliation.
Enough of speeches and empty show.
God have mercy on us all.
Sunday, August 19, 2018
Church and Crime, or where Jeremiah Makes an Appearance
Our trust in the Episcopacy or formal structure of the Catholic Church in tatters, we are free to despair. Or not. My personal disgust with the leadership of the Catholic Church would not be possible, I think, except that I have been well-trained as a Catholic. The criminal acts against children are appalling to anyone, of course, and qualify in themselves to bring a verdict against the institution that committed and assented - by silence and complicity - to those acts. But the crimes against the Sacred Body, the Blessed Sacrament, in allowing criminals to administer and partake of the sacraments are, to a Catholic, of a whole other magnitude. So, I am grateful in a tangible sense for my disgust as it would not be so clear, so clean, so correct, except that the object of my disgust taught me to value so well what it has chosen to insult.
Every column and opinion piece or apology I have read to date has fallen short of the mark in one or another capacity, and this is understandable as the mark - the logical conclusion - is makes it difficult if not impossible to practice the Catholic faith. Put another way, assuming we are serious about being Christians, how can we associate with an institution that has committed the crimes ascribed to the Catholic Church? This is not a matter of a few rogue priests, but thousands. The number of documented victims is in the tens of thousands, but this is only over the past few decades, and these are only the direct targets of abuse, not to mention families, communities, etc. It would be a paramount delusion to imagine that this abuse is only recent in history. In an ironic twist, commentators blame homosexuals for 'infiltrating' the priesthood, when of course this has been going on forever. It is only because society has grown comfortable with discussing homosexuality that these sorts of facts have seen the light of day. In other words, the Catholic Church can thank Gay Pride for airing its dirty laundry. If only gay priests had the moral courage to "come out" we might get somewhere.
But, of course, the Catholic Church is the only game in town if you happen to take the words of Jesus Christ literally. So sadly, no, I do not think the church is facing its "#metoo" moment. I don't think the church will ever have a #metoo moment until such time as its priests and seminarians can manifest the level of moral courage exhibited by the women of the #metoo movement - another irony lost on Catholic commentators.
Turning to solutions, the bishops might - just might - put into place structures to promote investigations with greater transparency...but so what? This is not a corporation. This is not a political party. This is (or was supposed to be) the Apostolic Church. I can pretend my trust has been rebuilt (and already I see Catholics rushing to feel good about feeling bad....) - I might even look like I believe it. Going to church every Sunday, praying the Rosary, going to confession, etc. But in the back of my mind, in my heart, the central question remains, and doubt has taken hold: not of my faith but of its ministers and the very structure that promoted them.
In brief, I can relate to Jeremiah and his ilk. To be crystal clear, I am not a prophet (just a trademark paralegal and dresser of an apple tree), but I know a stink when I smell it. Jeremiah, as I recall, did not seem to spend a whole lot of time talking up the great services at the Temple. He was disgusted at the priests and the people. We can be glad, I suppose, that in our time only the priests and bishops are to blame for the present circumstance though, as I have mentioned, commentators blame the "culture" and routinely do so to explain problems in the Church. (As an aside, I've always wondered what the big, brave Catholic Church had to fear from popular culture anyway. Are we not the Truth?)
But Jeremiah - as I said - while he took the church and kings and whatnot to task had a very good relationship with God. They were on a first name basis, you might say. And while God does not speak to me (and I'll bet you're glad to hear that!) He is present to me and to all who believe and those who don't in the things of this world, the major and minor miracles, of life, love, and forgiveness and all their complexity and transformative power. And, Jeremiah did not abandon his faith. On the contrary, his every word and action was an expression of absolute faithfulness.
Therefore, I am oddly not angry or sad - righteously disgusted, yes, but we have any number of avenues to explore in our righteous disgust. We do not have to obsess on this crisis and we should not allow our lives to be ruined by others' errors. Life, love, and forgiveness should not be made to suffer at our hands. God has suffered enough at the hands of the Episcopacy that the faithful should make every effort to continue to lead decent, honest lives, loving God for who He is and treating each other with the love due ourselves. Our essential mission has not changed and cannot change.
So, we can be both disgusted and true, disgusted with the Church and joyful at being disgusted rather than conceding truths which were never ours to concede in the first place. What will you do today in recognition of the truth? Even posing the question clears the mind and prompts the heart....
Every column and opinion piece or apology I have read to date has fallen short of the mark in one or another capacity, and this is understandable as the mark - the logical conclusion - is makes it difficult if not impossible to practice the Catholic faith. Put another way, assuming we are serious about being Christians, how can we associate with an institution that has committed the crimes ascribed to the Catholic Church? This is not a matter of a few rogue priests, but thousands. The number of documented victims is in the tens of thousands, but this is only over the past few decades, and these are only the direct targets of abuse, not to mention families, communities, etc. It would be a paramount delusion to imagine that this abuse is only recent in history. In an ironic twist, commentators blame homosexuals for 'infiltrating' the priesthood, when of course this has been going on forever. It is only because society has grown comfortable with discussing homosexuality that these sorts of facts have seen the light of day. In other words, the Catholic Church can thank Gay Pride for airing its dirty laundry. If only gay priests had the moral courage to "come out" we might get somewhere.
But, of course, the Catholic Church is the only game in town if you happen to take the words of Jesus Christ literally. So sadly, no, I do not think the church is facing its "#metoo" moment. I don't think the church will ever have a #metoo moment until such time as its priests and seminarians can manifest the level of moral courage exhibited by the women of the #metoo movement - another irony lost on Catholic commentators.
Turning to solutions, the bishops might - just might - put into place structures to promote investigations with greater transparency...but so what? This is not a corporation. This is not a political party. This is (or was supposed to be) the Apostolic Church. I can pretend my trust has been rebuilt (and already I see Catholics rushing to feel good about feeling bad....) - I might even look like I believe it. Going to church every Sunday, praying the Rosary, going to confession, etc. But in the back of my mind, in my heart, the central question remains, and doubt has taken hold: not of my faith but of its ministers and the very structure that promoted them.
In brief, I can relate to Jeremiah and his ilk. To be crystal clear, I am not a prophet (just a trademark paralegal and dresser of an apple tree), but I know a stink when I smell it. Jeremiah, as I recall, did not seem to spend a whole lot of time talking up the great services at the Temple. He was disgusted at the priests and the people. We can be glad, I suppose, that in our time only the priests and bishops are to blame for the present circumstance though, as I have mentioned, commentators blame the "culture" and routinely do so to explain problems in the Church. (As an aside, I've always wondered what the big, brave Catholic Church had to fear from popular culture anyway. Are we not the Truth?)
But Jeremiah - as I said - while he took the church and kings and whatnot to task had a very good relationship with God. They were on a first name basis, you might say. And while God does not speak to me (and I'll bet you're glad to hear that!) He is present to me and to all who believe and those who don't in the things of this world, the major and minor miracles, of life, love, and forgiveness and all their complexity and transformative power. And, Jeremiah did not abandon his faith. On the contrary, his every word and action was an expression of absolute faithfulness.
Therefore, I am oddly not angry or sad - righteously disgusted, yes, but we have any number of avenues to explore in our righteous disgust. We do not have to obsess on this crisis and we should not allow our lives to be ruined by others' errors. Life, love, and forgiveness should not be made to suffer at our hands. God has suffered enough at the hands of the Episcopacy that the faithful should make every effort to continue to lead decent, honest lives, loving God for who He is and treating each other with the love due ourselves. Our essential mission has not changed and cannot change.
So, we can be both disgusted and true, disgusted with the Church and joyful at being disgusted rather than conceding truths which were never ours to concede in the first place. What will you do today in recognition of the truth? Even posing the question clears the mind and prompts the heart....
Saturday, August 11, 2018
What of your Crimes, Bishops? A Piece on McCarrick
I've given myself a few weeks to chew on the McCarrick disaster, as I am fond of calling it, to consider the facts at hand and their import and what should be done in consideration of those facts. Additional facts may come to light to shade my opinion one way or another, but my central concerns have not changed since early on though they have sharpened into focus. My concerns and worry have moved on from the person of McCarick and his appalling actions, that is, the seduction and/or rape of young men and at least one child we know of; after all, despicable behavior in itself is not a surprise. In a Catholic Bishop? Yes, actions of the sort purported by McCarick qualify I think as incredibly bad, reaching to and attaining the the heights of evil. Or, let's put it this way: when people hear a hundred years from now what McCarrick did they will be disgusted, and his behavior will be yet another black mark on the Church, now, and forever. McCarrick's name (and others yet unknown, perhaps - though I personally think Cardinal Law should get at least a dishonorable mention for his suppression of crimes in the archdiocese of Boston...) - but I say, the name of McCarrick will ring on the lips of anyone of a mind to question the authority and authenticity of the Roman Catholic Church. He alongside other characters, including a handful of notorious Popes - but, as I said, it is not McCarrick's actions or character that most concern me. Not at all. For evil men are great infiltrators, and a rotten apple is bound to slip into the barrel now and again.
So I have moved on in a sense from McCarrick except to wish he would confess his crimes publicly, or that those he raped and fondled and subjugated to his power would come forward and say something. A brief note: it's interesting to me that women, feminists, have had the guts to come forward in the #metoo movement to name their assailants but that there is nary a peep from the brave men of holy orders who McCarrick had his way with. And this is yet another point of shame, to my way of thinking, which brings me back to me central concern, which is this:
So I have moved on in a sense from McCarrick except to wish he would confess his crimes publicly, or that those he raped and fondled and subjugated to his power would come forward and say something. A brief note: it's interesting to me that women, feminists, have had the guts to come forward in the #metoo movement to name their assailants but that there is nary a peep from the brave men of holy orders who McCarrick had his way with. And this is yet another point of shame, to my way of thinking, which brings me back to me central concern, which is this:
Why did the Catholic Church do nothing about McCarrick?
But perhaps this question seems too obvious. It is certainly the question everyone is asking, and the answers vary. Predictably, one answer gaining currency is that no one did anything because our culture is too accepting of homosexuality. This answer is, of course, nonsense. The commission of any sexual act other than that of conjugal union qualifies as sinful. One can be homosexual and Catholic - of course! One simply cannot engage in homosexual acts and remain in a state of Grace. Nor can one engage in adulterous acts, or obtain divorce, or use contraception, etc. and remain in a state of Grace. The Church is quite clear on this point. It promotes the vocation to chastity or temperance for all persons, including married couples (see the Catholic Catechism (CC), Section 2337). Here is an excerpt from the Catechism to put us in the proper frame of mind for this discussion:
"Chastity includes an apprenticeship in self-mastery which is a training in human freedom. The alternative is clear: either man governs his passions and finds peace, or he lets himself be dominated by them and becomes unhappy. Man's dignity therefore requires him to act out of conscious and free choice, as moved and drawn in a personal way from within, and not by blind impulses in himself or by mere external constraint. Man gains such dignity when, ridding himself of all slavery to the passions, he presses forward to his goal by freely choosing what is good and, by his diligence and skill, effectively secures for himself the means suited to this end." (CC 2339)
The Church contemplates and attains to one goal: unity. Unity in mind, body, and spirit. As Christ was and is the very person in whom all that is true and divine is unified, so we as persons are called to a self-same unity. It is this aspect of Christianity - of Christ in his divine person - that controls moral law.
Or so we are told. In this context, let me repeat my question:
Why did the Catholic Church do nothing about McCarrick?
How could a person - any person - be allowed to administer the Sacraments and - worse yet, it seems to me - be allowed to receive Communion when it was known by members of the Church that he had committed the crimes McCarrick committed? How could persons in the church - including Bishops, priests, and the seminarians he raped - allow this to happen? It would have been better if the Blessed Host and chalice of Sacred Blood had been torn from his hands and dashed to the floor rather than to allow him to insult and violate the Body of Christ in sharing communion with Him. This crime goes unconfessed and unaddressed, and it is my principal concern because the crimes and complicity attack the very person of Jesus Christ.
None of the saintly twaddle and culture-blame being blown around these days addresses the crimes of the Episcopacy in not merely in allowing McCarrick to carry out his crimes against human persons but against the Trinity itself.
How I wish church leadership would speak to the crimes committed against the very heart of the Church by its silence and inaction. Of course, I assume the Church recognizes the nature of these crimes. Otherwise, the Mass is a mere show and the persons engaged in it are actors in a sad, if lovely, historical play. I choose to believe such is not the case. I ask our Bishops to indicate that they believe, too, while addressing the crimes committed against our belief.
Sunday, May 27, 2018
Mistakes in Good Faith, or Writing for Life
Every week as Saturday rolls around I wonder if I will write. I may have a particular topic in mind, or not. More often than not, of late, I choose not to write regardless of what's on my mind.
Why don't I write? There are a few reasons, any one of which will suffice. I have lost interest in my opinions as opinions in themselves and for how they define me. I am quite sure our actions define us rather than our opinions. I do not feel as strong an urge to write in order to be who I am, but am content to be who I am whether or not I write, at least for the most part.
I have no particular desire to leave any more evidence of myself than what's already scattered around the Internet, the house, and I hope in the hearts and minds of friends and family. I am writing at this moment, this is true, but more as a means of catching up on things, and perhaps to find out if I can write in a way that makes sense to me now. I guess I'm wary of my writing, or my tendencies in writing. I do not want to create work for the sake of display, and I do not want to err where silence would save me from error. So, while I think about things I could or even should write about, rather than rushing to the computer to throw my hat in the ring I have adopted the habit of waiting. You might even call this new-found habit a kind of patience, but I don't want to get ahead of myself and claim a virtue that has always been in short supply in my personal, spiritual larder.
But to turn to possible topics for discussion, let's dive right in and address the issue of life - I mean, the Catholic Church's pro-life position versus the pro-choice position. I understand both sides of this argument having been raised in a liberal household and being now Catholic. It occurred to me recently the thought that life is more important to the Catholic Church than people realize, and that the implications of the Catholic Church's understanding of life underwrite the pro-life stance and also go far beyond it.
The Catholic Church does not read the politics of the day and decide its position accordingly. All its positions in a very tangible or historic sense precede any contemporary politics. The Catholic Church is pro-life, of course. It always has been, it is, and it always will be pro-life. It cannot countenance unnatural death in any circumstance. To be Catholic, to be Christian, is to esteem life for all that it is: our mortal life as a gift from God and eternal life as a promise from God, as shown us in the reincarnation of the risen Christ.
One might say at this point, yes, but choice also is a gift from God. And this is true. I certainly don't mean to argue that choice is not a critical component of human nature. Our right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" is an inalienable right, as the Declaration of Independence puts it. And I know from personal experience that the exercise of one's right to choose is in invaluable means of obtaining the aforementioned happiness, or, by making errors, in coming to an understanding of what does not contribute to happiness.
My life experience though, however instructive it might be, does not rise to the level of a catechism. God, I believe, is interested first and foremost in the eternal welfare of each and every individual human being as an individual person. The history of myriad saints and martyrs who, as sinners, caused pain in varying degrees in the lives of others but who eventually led lives of sanctifying grace tells us as much. So, we can and will do harm, and we can be saved if we ask to be forgiven. Simple.
And...I will stick with that last word: simple. I will not add that "it's really more complicated than that..." because it really is not more complicated than that as far as I can write about the subject with anything approaching honest reflection. My thoughts of late take me only so far before they cease being thoughts and threaten to become inference and evasion, a hodge-podge of collected notions, snippets of received knowledge, some of it valid, no doubt, but not mine, not such as I could properly represent.
So, what am I saying now? A moment ago I was sailing along laying out the pro-life position of the Catholic Church and the nature of choice appearing as if I knew what I was talking about, but then it all came to a grinding halt. Exactly. I did know what I was talking about and I stopped at exactly the point where I could go no further and know what I was talking about.
God does not ask for guess-work from me and neither does the Catholic Church. And so I accept those things that require my understanding for the purpose of my salvation. I am not called to guess-work or generalizations. I am not required to form broad opinions about groups of people along political, cultural, or religious grounds and belittle them accordingly. Quite the opposite, I am tasked with seeing Jesus Christ in every person I meet. That includes every person on either or both sides or outside the pro-life, pro-choice debate, including the unborn.
So, my job as a Christian is simple, It keeps me busy, engaged, and happy - but it is simple. I try to keep it simple but it's not easy, especially when my brain gets involved, or when I write and before I know it I'm making generalizations or saying things that don't really say anything. I understand the desire to make broad, overwhelming statements, but I try not to do this. It is better that I say less than more than is required. It is better that I live well than to speak or write unabashedly, without proper concern for the harm words can do to others by distraction or error. I am very sure I have a better understanding now of silence as a practice or a penitential act than I ever did before. I will write, and I should safe-guard the practice of writing, knowing I must err, but can do so...wittingly.
I can make mistakes in good faith. Funny, but that seems to me a fine, even noble definition for almost any form of writing of which I personally am capable.
Why don't I write? There are a few reasons, any one of which will suffice. I have lost interest in my opinions as opinions in themselves and for how they define me. I am quite sure our actions define us rather than our opinions. I do not feel as strong an urge to write in order to be who I am, but am content to be who I am whether or not I write, at least for the most part.
I have no particular desire to leave any more evidence of myself than what's already scattered around the Internet, the house, and I hope in the hearts and minds of friends and family. I am writing at this moment, this is true, but more as a means of catching up on things, and perhaps to find out if I can write in a way that makes sense to me now. I guess I'm wary of my writing, or my tendencies in writing. I do not want to create work for the sake of display, and I do not want to err where silence would save me from error. So, while I think about things I could or even should write about, rather than rushing to the computer to throw my hat in the ring I have adopted the habit of waiting. You might even call this new-found habit a kind of patience, but I don't want to get ahead of myself and claim a virtue that has always been in short supply in my personal, spiritual larder.
But to turn to possible topics for discussion, let's dive right in and address the issue of life - I mean, the Catholic Church's pro-life position versus the pro-choice position. I understand both sides of this argument having been raised in a liberal household and being now Catholic. It occurred to me recently the thought that life is more important to the Catholic Church than people realize, and that the implications of the Catholic Church's understanding of life underwrite the pro-life stance and also go far beyond it.
The Catholic Church does not read the politics of the day and decide its position accordingly. All its positions in a very tangible or historic sense precede any contemporary politics. The Catholic Church is pro-life, of course. It always has been, it is, and it always will be pro-life. It cannot countenance unnatural death in any circumstance. To be Catholic, to be Christian, is to esteem life for all that it is: our mortal life as a gift from God and eternal life as a promise from God, as shown us in the reincarnation of the risen Christ.
One might say at this point, yes, but choice also is a gift from God. And this is true. I certainly don't mean to argue that choice is not a critical component of human nature. Our right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" is an inalienable right, as the Declaration of Independence puts it. And I know from personal experience that the exercise of one's right to choose is in invaluable means of obtaining the aforementioned happiness, or, by making errors, in coming to an understanding of what does not contribute to happiness.
My life experience though, however instructive it might be, does not rise to the level of a catechism. God, I believe, is interested first and foremost in the eternal welfare of each and every individual human being as an individual person. The history of myriad saints and martyrs who, as sinners, caused pain in varying degrees in the lives of others but who eventually led lives of sanctifying grace tells us as much. So, we can and will do harm, and we can be saved if we ask to be forgiven. Simple.
And...I will stick with that last word: simple. I will not add that "it's really more complicated than that..." because it really is not more complicated than that as far as I can write about the subject with anything approaching honest reflection. My thoughts of late take me only so far before they cease being thoughts and threaten to become inference and evasion, a hodge-podge of collected notions, snippets of received knowledge, some of it valid, no doubt, but not mine, not such as I could properly represent.
So, what am I saying now? A moment ago I was sailing along laying out the pro-life position of the Catholic Church and the nature of choice appearing as if I knew what I was talking about, but then it all came to a grinding halt. Exactly. I did know what I was talking about and I stopped at exactly the point where I could go no further and know what I was talking about.
God does not ask for guess-work from me and neither does the Catholic Church. And so I accept those things that require my understanding for the purpose of my salvation. I am not called to guess-work or generalizations. I am not required to form broad opinions about groups of people along political, cultural, or religious grounds and belittle them accordingly. Quite the opposite, I am tasked with seeing Jesus Christ in every person I meet. That includes every person on either or both sides or outside the pro-life, pro-choice debate, including the unborn.
So, my job as a Christian is simple, It keeps me busy, engaged, and happy - but it is simple. I try to keep it simple but it's not easy, especially when my brain gets involved, or when I write and before I know it I'm making generalizations or saying things that don't really say anything. I understand the desire to make broad, overwhelming statements, but I try not to do this. It is better that I say less than more than is required. It is better that I live well than to speak or write unabashedly, without proper concern for the harm words can do to others by distraction or error. I am very sure I have a better understanding now of silence as a practice or a penitential act than I ever did before. I will write, and I should safe-guard the practice of writing, knowing I must err, but can do so...wittingly.
I can make mistakes in good faith. Funny, but that seems to me a fine, even noble definition for almost any form of writing of which I personally am capable.
Sunday, April 8, 2018
Setting Aside the Self for the Whole
I stated in my last blog that one could not be a loyal member of the Republican or Democratic political parties, or a free market capitalist (as that term is presently understood) and be also a faithful Christian, and I stand by that observation, though I can see its limitations. I mean to say, I am not sure one can be loyal anything and also be Christian. One is bound to form healthy habits and tendencies in work, play, and family, but practice and devotion should be held distinct.
Or is this merely a chicken/egg scenario, a matter of prioritization? I do have in mind politics, and the actions of self-professed Christians which run directly counter to the teachings of Christ. Of course I am working with a limited data set - America, in 2017 - but I think we can extrapolate a bit, at least, through general observations.
We know (and agree, I trust) that Americans are concerned with their personal identity. Our declaration of independence and constitution make that plain. This concern and self-interest precedes, if you will, religious conversion, and so your typical American's religious experience is lived through the lens of American individualism. There's nothing wrong with this, as far as it goes, because one is free to choose, after all. Meaning that one can choose to flip the lens, as it were, and approach one's individualism through one's religion.
Now, I think many people try this, or at least say they do, but the results have not been encouraging. I am not fully convinced, in fact, that we are quite capable of putting aside our hard-won Americanism for the radically different temperament of the Christian (and this is true worldwide, perhaps). We are too deeply confirmed in the habit of announcing ourselves, advertising ourselves through our work, hobbies, pleasure, and little jokes. By telegraphing my personality, day in and day out, in everything I do, even a careful observer would have a hard time distinguishing me as a Christian.
Or is church-going enough? No, we know that is not true. I'm somewhat convinced that the distinctions lie not in what one does, but in what the Christian does not do, or in the way in which they both do-and-not-do the things a non-Christian does. Let me try and unpack that sentence.
There is a point of real difference - a razor's edge, a Rubicon of sorts - between choosing Christianity in your life and living as a Christian, period. In the first case one is constantly faced with having to make choices. Life is a balancing act of the temporal v. the eternal, social practices v. church teaching, etc. One is buoyed in this balancing act inasmuch as, being American, one feels it is one's duty to carve out a particular truth that "really works." You might even share this truth, or series of truths, in a popular book sold from the spiritual, self-help, or business section of the local bookstore. Let's call this the "balanced Christian" viewpoint. I think it's fair to say that every Christian partakes of this sort of give-and-take to a greater or lesser degree, but there is a difference, as I was saying, between adopting it as a more-or-less permanent position, and the alternative, which is to completely inhabit Christianity.
To do this, one must choose to forgo choice. And that, my friends, is easier said than done. You will not like it, because you will lose habits and tendencies of mind that you have grown fond of over time. You will lose friends - not through argument or conflict (though this can happen, I'm sure) - but you will drift apart having chosen different ground. I am quite sure of all this. The devoted Catholic is no more certain of heaven than anyone else - in fact, he or she may be more skeptical than the balanced Christian (who has everything worked out in a sexy, dynamic mix) - but you won't hear it from him. In fact, you may not hear much of all from him except what needs to be said to go about one's business. The devoted Catholic has nothing to brag about being confident of falling short of his model in every conceivable way and manner. Therefore, sadness is never too far off, but resentment has no foothold. Pleasure is easily won, the more casual the better.
I could go on, but I don't want to sound like an advertisement for the "devout Catholic." I know plenty of people who I am sure characterize themselves in this way but whose politics indicate multiple and problematic alliances. Let me say this though: there has never been a thing I have truly loved and embraced that I would whole-heartedly recommend for all persons in all times. I wrote poetry because I had no choice. Marriage is best suited to persons willing to sacrifice themselves to form a united couple. And Christianity....well, I have seen that as one commits and goes further, there is no going back. I have never known an arena of existence where the doing and the being are so closely would that you cannot distinguish the two. I have never known such perfect sadness in my failures. I have never known such calm, such joy, simply in being.
Or is this merely a chicken/egg scenario, a matter of prioritization? I do have in mind politics, and the actions of self-professed Christians which run directly counter to the teachings of Christ. Of course I am working with a limited data set - America, in 2017 - but I think we can extrapolate a bit, at least, through general observations.
We know (and agree, I trust) that Americans are concerned with their personal identity. Our declaration of independence and constitution make that plain. This concern and self-interest precedes, if you will, religious conversion, and so your typical American's religious experience is lived through the lens of American individualism. There's nothing wrong with this, as far as it goes, because one is free to choose, after all. Meaning that one can choose to flip the lens, as it were, and approach one's individualism through one's religion.
Now, I think many people try this, or at least say they do, but the results have not been encouraging. I am not fully convinced, in fact, that we are quite capable of putting aside our hard-won Americanism for the radically different temperament of the Christian (and this is true worldwide, perhaps). We are too deeply confirmed in the habit of announcing ourselves, advertising ourselves through our work, hobbies, pleasure, and little jokes. By telegraphing my personality, day in and day out, in everything I do, even a careful observer would have a hard time distinguishing me as a Christian.
Or is church-going enough? No, we know that is not true. I'm somewhat convinced that the distinctions lie not in what one does, but in what the Christian does not do, or in the way in which they both do-and-not-do the things a non-Christian does. Let me try and unpack that sentence.
There is a point of real difference - a razor's edge, a Rubicon of sorts - between choosing Christianity in your life and living as a Christian, period. In the first case one is constantly faced with having to make choices. Life is a balancing act of the temporal v. the eternal, social practices v. church teaching, etc. One is buoyed in this balancing act inasmuch as, being American, one feels it is one's duty to carve out a particular truth that "really works." You might even share this truth, or series of truths, in a popular book sold from the spiritual, self-help, or business section of the local bookstore. Let's call this the "balanced Christian" viewpoint. I think it's fair to say that every Christian partakes of this sort of give-and-take to a greater or lesser degree, but there is a difference, as I was saying, between adopting it as a more-or-less permanent position, and the alternative, which is to completely inhabit Christianity.
To do this, one must choose to forgo choice. And that, my friends, is easier said than done. You will not like it, because you will lose habits and tendencies of mind that you have grown fond of over time. You will lose friends - not through argument or conflict (though this can happen, I'm sure) - but you will drift apart having chosen different ground. I am quite sure of all this. The devoted Catholic is no more certain of heaven than anyone else - in fact, he or she may be more skeptical than the balanced Christian (who has everything worked out in a sexy, dynamic mix) - but you won't hear it from him. In fact, you may not hear much of all from him except what needs to be said to go about one's business. The devoted Catholic has nothing to brag about being confident of falling short of his model in every conceivable way and manner. Therefore, sadness is never too far off, but resentment has no foothold. Pleasure is easily won, the more casual the better.
I could go on, but I don't want to sound like an advertisement for the "devout Catholic." I know plenty of people who I am sure characterize themselves in this way but whose politics indicate multiple and problematic alliances. Let me say this though: there has never been a thing I have truly loved and embraced that I would whole-heartedly recommend for all persons in all times. I wrote poetry because I had no choice. Marriage is best suited to persons willing to sacrifice themselves to form a united couple. And Christianity....well, I have seen that as one commits and goes further, there is no going back. I have never known an arena of existence where the doing and the being are so closely would that you cannot distinguish the two. I have never known such perfect sadness in my failures. I have never known such calm, such joy, simply in being.
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Two Tales of a Well
You would think that the world would be a kinder, fairer place with the advance of modernism. But it's not. The scientific outlook has transformed cultural assumptions about personhood to eradicate the notion of justice. The unit of the post-modern world is not the family, but the individual; and not the individual in a family, but what that individual determines they should be, regardless of societal considerations. Therefore, people in authority are free to determine the worth of any one or all individuals under their power, depending on the goals and standards they establish for themselves. And those goals, more likely than not, are self-serving, because modernism is built for the self. It was created and established by popular acclaim, in order to break apart ruling systems and allow the individual opportunity to choose.
Choice is everything, but the goal of modernism was never to choose against justice or the dignity of the person or the family. Modernism was able to leverage the written word, the arts, and the power of the vote to leverage for civil rights, to loosen the grip of authoritarian rule. By the grace of modernism, power has been made to listen. By the scourge of modernism, power has found new means to assert itself and lose nothing of its control in the bargain.
Power resides in property. The king rules the land, the plutocrat his factory. But whereas kings and plutocrats can be overthrown by one or another means, we have not found the means to tame or control our worst inclinations, our determination to seek our own ends, regardless of societal considerations. The drive for personal profit in society has never been so profound. Profound in the sense of deep and abiding, and unquestioned. While worker's salaries have flat-lined for decades, the salaries of executives have gone through the roof. The disparity between the rich and the poor has never been wider, more clear, more telling. We can talk about recycling, gun control, racial injustice, and gender issues until we're blue in the face, but at the end of the day power resides in property, and until a good many more individuals own land and the means of production, nothing of import will change.
Small changes can occur of course - and we thank you for that - but there is nothing a capitalist won't do to make money off what you believe in and, in so doing, remain in control of the message and the means of telling it. Their justification is that's the way the world works. And they are right. That is the way the world works, but that does not make it just.
Imagine you live in a tiny remote village with your family and, let's say, another 20 or so families. The region is in a drought and, while there is plenty of grain in store, the only supply of water is the village well. Everyone takes only what they need from the well so that others have enough. But you think you want more, and you justify this thinking that if you had more water, your family would not merely surviving, but comfortable. And if they are comfortable, they can do more for themselves and be happy, and isn't that the goal of life? So you take your ration of water during the day along with everyone else, smiling at your neighbors, helping an old woman carry her bucket to show what a great guy you are, and then at night you sneak out to take some more. A bucket to start, a coupe then a few buckets as the days pass, for no one has said anything and you sleep fine. Obviously this is a great idea. Besides, the drought can't last forever; it's bound to rain eventually.
But it doesn't rain. And so the water in the well decreases, the level drawing lower and lower. People reduce the amount they take, holding to the quaint notion of personal sacrifice for the good of all. They get thinner and thinner, eyes downcast. All activity in the village has ceased except what is necessary to live. But your family is fine. You too walk around with eyes downcast, but your hut is the only one where there is talk and laughter, and even the flowers in the garden still bloom, strangely enough. But the other villagers do not rebel or castigate you. They know by now, to be sure, at least the clever ones do, but no one goes out of there way to show that they know. In fact, there is even a kind of respect. After all, you have succeeded where they failed. You broke the rules, true, but you did it for your family. Who else if there to rule the village and make decisions? You take over that role, humbly, and set to things with a will. Now perhaps there is another village about 20 miles away where they have water, you have heard. Plenty of water. And even if they are in short supply, aren't the needs of your village and family equal to theirs? All you need is a dozen or so men armed with spears, just in case. Now, who will join me, you ask, and one by one hands are raised in the air.
I think I have painted a pretty fair portrait of the successful, modern capitalist, a person who has simply taken the principal lessons of modernism and applied it to their own actions: only science is true and one is accountable only to one's conscience. Of course, the notion that you can rely on your conscience when you have discounted or discarded all ethical or religious guidelines an absurd one. The conscience, in that case, does not really exist. It has nothing to grab hold of. It acts merely as a form of initial reaction which, through time and repetition, can be put to rest. Some matters - murder, for example - will appall you, and you will pat your conscience on the back accordingly. But the level of water in a well? Who can say what right is? You would never dream of telling someone else what to do, so why should they care....
You might think that the underlying purpose of this blog, OpenCatholic, is to evangelize, to help people to find God, and you would be right, but only partially. If I had the space to say what people should do - oh look, here it is! - I would say it is not enough to embrace Christ but you must, must, must put aside the world as it is. You cannot be a faithful Christian and a loyal Republican. You cannot be a faithful Christian and a loyal Democrat. You cannot be a faithful Christian and a Capitalist. Not in our era, not in the modern or post-modern sense, because politics and capitalism hold no sense of justice in the Christian sense. There is no thread in the scientific, empirical, materialist, modern school of thought that can mold a person and a society to be not only willing to sacrifice oneself for the good of all, but to understand that such a sacrifice is necessary and required. Indeed, sacrifice is not what makes us merely human, but good people. One does not get to pick and choose. The day is today, the time is now to serve. Right now. And anything you do right now that is contrary to your calling as a Christian is a sin, period. So fight for the individual and their rights - but as members of a family, or a human society. And never stop fighting for just power, for your just amount of property.
We must accomplish more than words can say if we are to overcome the injustices of this age.
That's how you build up your conscience. It takes practice. It takes work. It's hard not to go out at might and take more water for the well, but you tell yourself you would rather die than do such a thing. It would be better if you and your family died doing the right thing than if you betrayed them under the guise of benefiting them (and yourself). No, you will not take water from the well tonight, or any other night. In fact, you will go out and guard the well, for who knows but that someone else, someone feeling weak, might not conceive the idea of taking more water then is their share? There is no need to take your spear. If you see someone coming to the well at night you can greet them and say, "Ah! I couldn't sleep so I thought I would go for a stroll. Isn't it a lovely night? And they may stammer and say, "Yes, yes, it is. It is a lovely night, after all."
Choice is everything, but the goal of modernism was never to choose against justice or the dignity of the person or the family. Modernism was able to leverage the written word, the arts, and the power of the vote to leverage for civil rights, to loosen the grip of authoritarian rule. By the grace of modernism, power has been made to listen. By the scourge of modernism, power has found new means to assert itself and lose nothing of its control in the bargain.
Power resides in property. The king rules the land, the plutocrat his factory. But whereas kings and plutocrats can be overthrown by one or another means, we have not found the means to tame or control our worst inclinations, our determination to seek our own ends, regardless of societal considerations. The drive for personal profit in society has never been so profound. Profound in the sense of deep and abiding, and unquestioned. While worker's salaries have flat-lined for decades, the salaries of executives have gone through the roof. The disparity between the rich and the poor has never been wider, more clear, more telling. We can talk about recycling, gun control, racial injustice, and gender issues until we're blue in the face, but at the end of the day power resides in property, and until a good many more individuals own land and the means of production, nothing of import will change.
Small changes can occur of course - and we thank you for that - but there is nothing a capitalist won't do to make money off what you believe in and, in so doing, remain in control of the message and the means of telling it. Their justification is that's the way the world works. And they are right. That is the way the world works, but that does not make it just.
Imagine you live in a tiny remote village with your family and, let's say, another 20 or so families. The region is in a drought and, while there is plenty of grain in store, the only supply of water is the village well. Everyone takes only what they need from the well so that others have enough. But you think you want more, and you justify this thinking that if you had more water, your family would not merely surviving, but comfortable. And if they are comfortable, they can do more for themselves and be happy, and isn't that the goal of life? So you take your ration of water during the day along with everyone else, smiling at your neighbors, helping an old woman carry her bucket to show what a great guy you are, and then at night you sneak out to take some more. A bucket to start, a coupe then a few buckets as the days pass, for no one has said anything and you sleep fine. Obviously this is a great idea. Besides, the drought can't last forever; it's bound to rain eventually.
But it doesn't rain. And so the water in the well decreases, the level drawing lower and lower. People reduce the amount they take, holding to the quaint notion of personal sacrifice for the good of all. They get thinner and thinner, eyes downcast. All activity in the village has ceased except what is necessary to live. But your family is fine. You too walk around with eyes downcast, but your hut is the only one where there is talk and laughter, and even the flowers in the garden still bloom, strangely enough. But the other villagers do not rebel or castigate you. They know by now, to be sure, at least the clever ones do, but no one goes out of there way to show that they know. In fact, there is even a kind of respect. After all, you have succeeded where they failed. You broke the rules, true, but you did it for your family. Who else if there to rule the village and make decisions? You take over that role, humbly, and set to things with a will. Now perhaps there is another village about 20 miles away where they have water, you have heard. Plenty of water. And even if they are in short supply, aren't the needs of your village and family equal to theirs? All you need is a dozen or so men armed with spears, just in case. Now, who will join me, you ask, and one by one hands are raised in the air.
I think I have painted a pretty fair portrait of the successful, modern capitalist, a person who has simply taken the principal lessons of modernism and applied it to their own actions: only science is true and one is accountable only to one's conscience. Of course, the notion that you can rely on your conscience when you have discounted or discarded all ethical or religious guidelines an absurd one. The conscience, in that case, does not really exist. It has nothing to grab hold of. It acts merely as a form of initial reaction which, through time and repetition, can be put to rest. Some matters - murder, for example - will appall you, and you will pat your conscience on the back accordingly. But the level of water in a well? Who can say what right is? You would never dream of telling someone else what to do, so why should they care....
You might think that the underlying purpose of this blog, OpenCatholic, is to evangelize, to help people to find God, and you would be right, but only partially. If I had the space to say what people should do - oh look, here it is! - I would say it is not enough to embrace Christ but you must, must, must put aside the world as it is. You cannot be a faithful Christian and a loyal Republican. You cannot be a faithful Christian and a loyal Democrat. You cannot be a faithful Christian and a Capitalist. Not in our era, not in the modern or post-modern sense, because politics and capitalism hold no sense of justice in the Christian sense. There is no thread in the scientific, empirical, materialist, modern school of thought that can mold a person and a society to be not only willing to sacrifice oneself for the good of all, but to understand that such a sacrifice is necessary and required. Indeed, sacrifice is not what makes us merely human, but good people. One does not get to pick and choose. The day is today, the time is now to serve. Right now. And anything you do right now that is contrary to your calling as a Christian is a sin, period. So fight for the individual and their rights - but as members of a family, or a human society. And never stop fighting for just power, for your just amount of property.
We must accomplish more than words can say if we are to overcome the injustices of this age.
That's how you build up your conscience. It takes practice. It takes work. It's hard not to go out at might and take more water for the well, but you tell yourself you would rather die than do such a thing. It would be better if you and your family died doing the right thing than if you betrayed them under the guise of benefiting them (and yourself). No, you will not take water from the well tonight, or any other night. In fact, you will go out and guard the well, for who knows but that someone else, someone feeling weak, might not conceive the idea of taking more water then is their share? There is no need to take your spear. If you see someone coming to the well at night you can greet them and say, "Ah! I couldn't sleep so I thought I would go for a stroll. Isn't it a lovely night? And they may stammer and say, "Yes, yes, it is. It is a lovely night, after all."
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Pointing toward Prayer
I offer here a few observations or personal recitations on the subject of prayer, based on experiences over the past couple years.
First though, I should confess that I have never had what many writers refer to as "trouble" with praying. I really don't know what that looks or feels like. It sounds like something that gets talked about a lot at seminary or in confidential conversation, or is applied as a kind of interior checkpoint: how is your prayer life? The Pauline admonition to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians: 5) is one significant factor, spurring us on toward achieving in this life what we hope for the next: perfect communion with God. And certainly the topic is a popular one. Most religious books I dare say are concerned with prayer in one form or another: what it is and how to do it being dominant themes. And, occasionally one hears advice, such as the suggestion I was offered once that prayer is "really just a matter of being open to the wonders around you." Isn't that nice? I wonder why the Lord didn't say as much in the garden at Gethsemane.
So into the ring I throw my hat, offering a few personal observations about prayer. I hope to move as quickly as is humanly possible out of the discussion I have brought upon myself about what prayer is to merely practical considerations, but perhaps it is best to take this in its proper order.
Prayer is, first of all, what Jesus tells us prayer is. He tells us how to pray and gives us the Lord's Prayer. "This is how you are to pray" he says, in Matthew: 6. I will not paste the Lord's Prayer into this article, as I have to believe that anyone who's reading this either knows the Lord's Prayer or at least can click on the link to Matthew, Chapter 6 to read it. And, if you want to read bout the Lord's Prayer, the long, short, and middle ground of it is handily rendered in the CCC or Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC Part 4, Section 2). This is not to say that prayer is only the Lord's Prayer as it is recited, as a devotional prayer, but it is founded on the dispositions expressed therein. Prayer can praise and/or beseech. It can be contemplative. Christian prayer recurs to the Lord's Prayer because it is foundational. When words desert you, one can pray the Lord's Prayer in whatever heartfelt state one is in at the time and you will be heard.
Therefore, all Christian prayer can be thrown up against the Lord's Prayer to see if it sticks, so to speak, and if it is from the heart, it will. And this is a condition that is much discussed. The short route might seem to be avoiding formulaic, devotional prayers (like the Lord's Prayer) for spontaneous, personal prayer; but even our spontaneous thoughts can be and often are preoccupied, or freighted with thoughts and feelings that in a certain light may not appear prayerful at all. Prayer is not a vending machine, as has been said.
So, if formulaic prayer can fall into dryness, and personal prayer suffer from distraction, what's the key? I would say it's one's disposition. The prayerful disposition precedes rewarding prayer. It may not even lead to prayer per se, but it will reward one all the same, because prayerfulness is a kind of prayer.
By this I mean to suggest that a person who goes through their day with a heart that is open to God has learned, in effect, to pray constantly. I have found that, in maintaining openness to God - in listening and in keeping my heart clear of anger or senseless preoccupation - I am capable at any moment of praying, either formally or spontaneously. That capacity - that readiness - coordinates nicely with the desire to be among those "servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival" Luke 12:35.
So far, so standard. But I want to go a bit further and suggest that prayerfulness or openness to God is not something that can be easily defined. We can all recite the Lord's Prayer together, but are our hearts identical in being open to God. Is it the same thing for all persons when they listen for His voice? Imagine a man or woman, after a hard day's work, just sitting in their car at a red light in the middle of traffic, empty of thought, their heart pleading for rest. Is this not a most articulate prayer and does not God heed our pleas for relief?
I could go on like this forever if I sought to touch on all aspects of what prayer is for all people - and maybe this is in part what we do when we pray. For now, I want to fulfill my expectations for this article and offer a few tangible, concrete points for the reader to consider, to use or discard as they wish.
1. The More You Pray...the More You Will Pray
Praying doesn't stop with having prayed enough. You may think you pray enough, but you will hunger for more. This principal leads to praying the Rosary on a daily basis, praying the Divine Office, etc. And all in good time. Everyone has a different interior and supernatural schedule for this sort of thing as for all things that matter (marriage, children, etc).
2. Praying is Over Here...the World is Over There
You can and should and will no doubt pray for the word and for things of the world - health, a job, peace, for yourself and others - but prayer is of God and the world as such resists God. The world too is of God but cannot know God except through prayer. The world is local and contemporary with the worry and work of the world and only prayer connects the world to God. Do you despair of the world? Imagine a world without prayer.
3. Pray Together When Possible
"For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:20 Solitary prayer is well and good, but prayer in a group will put a big smile on your face. You will have accomplished more than you could individually and in the cooperative spirit that God wants for his people. If your church offers Rosary recitations or better yet the Divine Office, consider delving into group prayer on a regular basis.
4. Action is Prayer in Action
There is no point in drawing distinctions or opposite differences between action and prayer, when any meaningful action is in fact prayer in action. You would not act in such a way as is unsupported by prayer, would you? Is not all meaningful action a form of prayer in service? So, do not worry about prayer vs. action, action vs. prayer. Pray and act; act and pray, as we are told to do.
5. Prayer is the Language of Heaven
One does not become familiar with prayer, or expert at prayer, the way one might master almost any one of life's pursuits, but living one's life through prayer is a kind of irrevocable choice, a movement from which there is no retreat. There is, I think, no surer sign of dying to oneself. “Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will.” Mark 14: 36
First though, I should confess that I have never had what many writers refer to as "trouble" with praying. I really don't know what that looks or feels like. It sounds like something that gets talked about a lot at seminary or in confidential conversation, or is applied as a kind of interior checkpoint: how is your prayer life? The Pauline admonition to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians: 5) is one significant factor, spurring us on toward achieving in this life what we hope for the next: perfect communion with God. And certainly the topic is a popular one. Most religious books I dare say are concerned with prayer in one form or another: what it is and how to do it being dominant themes. And, occasionally one hears advice, such as the suggestion I was offered once that prayer is "really just a matter of being open to the wonders around you." Isn't that nice? I wonder why the Lord didn't say as much in the garden at Gethsemane.
So into the ring I throw my hat, offering a few personal observations about prayer. I hope to move as quickly as is humanly possible out of the discussion I have brought upon myself about what prayer is to merely practical considerations, but perhaps it is best to take this in its proper order.
Prayer is, first of all, what Jesus tells us prayer is. He tells us how to pray and gives us the Lord's Prayer. "This is how you are to pray" he says, in Matthew: 6. I will not paste the Lord's Prayer into this article, as I have to believe that anyone who's reading this either knows the Lord's Prayer or at least can click on the link to Matthew, Chapter 6 to read it. And, if you want to read bout the Lord's Prayer, the long, short, and middle ground of it is handily rendered in the CCC or Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC Part 4, Section 2). This is not to say that prayer is only the Lord's Prayer as it is recited, as a devotional prayer, but it is founded on the dispositions expressed therein. Prayer can praise and/or beseech. It can be contemplative. Christian prayer recurs to the Lord's Prayer because it is foundational. When words desert you, one can pray the Lord's Prayer in whatever heartfelt state one is in at the time and you will be heard.
Therefore, all Christian prayer can be thrown up against the Lord's Prayer to see if it sticks, so to speak, and if it is from the heart, it will. And this is a condition that is much discussed. The short route might seem to be avoiding formulaic, devotional prayers (like the Lord's Prayer) for spontaneous, personal prayer; but even our spontaneous thoughts can be and often are preoccupied, or freighted with thoughts and feelings that in a certain light may not appear prayerful at all. Prayer is not a vending machine, as has been said.
So, if formulaic prayer can fall into dryness, and personal prayer suffer from distraction, what's the key? I would say it's one's disposition. The prayerful disposition precedes rewarding prayer. It may not even lead to prayer per se, but it will reward one all the same, because prayerfulness is a kind of prayer.
By this I mean to suggest that a person who goes through their day with a heart that is open to God has learned, in effect, to pray constantly. I have found that, in maintaining openness to God - in listening and in keeping my heart clear of anger or senseless preoccupation - I am capable at any moment of praying, either formally or spontaneously. That capacity - that readiness - coordinates nicely with the desire to be among those "servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival" Luke 12:35.
So far, so standard. But I want to go a bit further and suggest that prayerfulness or openness to God is not something that can be easily defined. We can all recite the Lord's Prayer together, but are our hearts identical in being open to God. Is it the same thing for all persons when they listen for His voice? Imagine a man or woman, after a hard day's work, just sitting in their car at a red light in the middle of traffic, empty of thought, their heart pleading for rest. Is this not a most articulate prayer and does not God heed our pleas for relief?
I could go on like this forever if I sought to touch on all aspects of what prayer is for all people - and maybe this is in part what we do when we pray. For now, I want to fulfill my expectations for this article and offer a few tangible, concrete points for the reader to consider, to use or discard as they wish.
1. The More You Pray...the More You Will Pray
Praying doesn't stop with having prayed enough. You may think you pray enough, but you will hunger for more. This principal leads to praying the Rosary on a daily basis, praying the Divine Office, etc. And all in good time. Everyone has a different interior and supernatural schedule for this sort of thing as for all things that matter (marriage, children, etc).
2. Praying is Over Here...the World is Over There
You can and should and will no doubt pray for the word and for things of the world - health, a job, peace, for yourself and others - but prayer is of God and the world as such resists God. The world too is of God but cannot know God except through prayer. The world is local and contemporary with the worry and work of the world and only prayer connects the world to God. Do you despair of the world? Imagine a world without prayer.
3. Pray Together When Possible
"For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:20 Solitary prayer is well and good, but prayer in a group will put a big smile on your face. You will have accomplished more than you could individually and in the cooperative spirit that God wants for his people. If your church offers Rosary recitations or better yet the Divine Office, consider delving into group prayer on a regular basis.
4. Action is Prayer in Action
There is no point in drawing distinctions or opposite differences between action and prayer, when any meaningful action is in fact prayer in action. You would not act in such a way as is unsupported by prayer, would you? Is not all meaningful action a form of prayer in service? So, do not worry about prayer vs. action, action vs. prayer. Pray and act; act and pray, as we are told to do.
5. Prayer is the Language of Heaven
One does not become familiar with prayer, or expert at prayer, the way one might master almost any one of life's pursuits, but living one's life through prayer is a kind of irrevocable choice, a movement from which there is no retreat. There is, I think, no surer sign of dying to oneself. “Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will.” Mark 14: 36
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Confessions of a Soap Box Caller
We are not the only ones who matter, but we matter more than we can know. We are provided solid guarantees that we matter, that we possess individual, intrinsic value, but we do not comprehend this value. Our interior eye cannot pick it out. We know it is there and that it is critical, so we set out in an attempt to locate it, blindly fumbling about, grabbing at whatever is at hand and running our hands over it. Again, we read the words that guarantee our worth and even if we say "yes" to those words, how do we spend our days?
If I say "Christ is your savior" I have, first and foremost, placed myself before you to say those words so that you will recognize me as a person who says "Christ is your savior." Whether this is good or bad is not the point here. If I say "Christ is your savior" I have not told you something you have not heard, and I have not demonstrated or enacted the truth of what I mean. I have not communicated it to you. Whether I have in fact accomplished something of the reverse, either uncommunicating it or disqualifying myself from your consideration is a very real threat. I cannot afford to lose you, and so I say nothing.
Here is the problem with preaching if one is concerned more with the soul being saved than with how you look in the attempt.
The point that I have reached now, sitting here, is one that I can reflect on and understand by degrees. Given the topic, I find it necessary to do this, to in a sense retrace the thread of how I got here, recalling the path of bread crumbs that led me through the forest. To think of preaching in terms of how others preach is a dead end. You are bound to consider form, style, and efficacy as only you perceive it. One cannot preach as an effect of having watched others preach - though you can learn from others. But on the subject of preaching, one can only consider how one got to where one is, to open one's heart, and speak the truth that God put there.
What after all is this odd word, "preaching?" It serves to host negative connotations, to be sure. The immediate impression I have is of someone - a man, of course - telling someone what they should believe. Well, there are all kinds of things wrong with that picture, but it is true to the characterization of poor preaching. And yet. Can we confidently say that standard out-of-the-box preaching - yelling "Christ is your savior" on the street corner - is perfectly ineffective? I would not say that. I think that passion presides fittingly at the occasion of conversion. The street preacher, quoting from scripture, charismatic, defiant, can be just the one to serve as the lightening rod of epiphany.
Passion matters as does personal care and attention. So we have preachers who describe themselves as witnesses to the truth, or its ministers. People who minister or witness or more likely to represent their faith by good works than in preaching per se. One can do all these things of course, but what concerns me here is the specific topic of preaching.
"Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature." (Mark 16:15)
This is a marvelous invocation and instruction. Anyone can see, I think, how people might be captivated and propelled by these very words. These words have sponsored the movements of missionaries, of saints and sinners too. The history of the world can be traced to the effect of these words, taken as absolute, as words of perfect instruction. This directive is really pretty astounding. It encompasses all people; or, arguably, all living creation. What "proclaim" means in this sentence must be more than preaching - unless one is St. Francis, we do not preach to birds and butterflies; but we can live in accord with the world, in unity with all creatures, and thereby proclaim the Gospel.
And what is the Gospel? Well, first and foremost, it is that Christ is your savior. (There, I said it!) But that gives the story away somewhat because a lot happened before Christ was resurrected as your savior. Obviously, he had to be born in the first place, which is where the Blessed Virgin enters the picture. But even before that, Christ was announced through prophecy (hello Holy Spirit); and before even that he was present, by the will of God, as "All things came to be through him, and without him nothing came to be." (John 1:3). So what we really have here is a story. And the reason this matters is that each one of us has a story too, and unless we bring our story into this conversation nothing is going to happen. Jesus Christ is not a picture hanging on the wall or merely a plaster Crucifix hanging from the ceiling. He is God and man, and each of us is man, created by God in his own image. Each of us - man, woman, and child - has a lot in common with Jesus Christ; more than is strictly comfortable, if you get my drift.
So, the Gospel is not merely a stated truth, a series of tenets, each with an assumption or premise, and arguments, and a conclusion. It is your story, if you care to see it in the light of revealed truth. The good news of the Gospel matters when and only when you - personally - decide it matters for you, personally. That does not mean that the good news does not exist unless you say it does. Oh, no. The Gospel will knock at your door, leave messages at work, drop little hints, show up in unexpected places. The Gospel will be, in turns, amusing and annoying, maybe even a little creepy. That's not so bad when you consider the entertainment value. After all, it's free. And then there's the potential for a reward which, I think it's safe to say, is without compare. Eternal life in the presence of the living God.
So, if all this is about story telling, then so is preaching, or witnessing, or ministering - whatever you want to call it. Maybe we should call it that: calling. What are you? A caller. What do you do? I call, what do you think I do? Well then, who are you calling?
By the grace of God, I am calling you.
If I say "Christ is your savior" I have, first and foremost, placed myself before you to say those words so that you will recognize me as a person who says "Christ is your savior." Whether this is good or bad is not the point here. If I say "Christ is your savior" I have not told you something you have not heard, and I have not demonstrated or enacted the truth of what I mean. I have not communicated it to you. Whether I have in fact accomplished something of the reverse, either uncommunicating it or disqualifying myself from your consideration is a very real threat. I cannot afford to lose you, and so I say nothing.
Here is the problem with preaching if one is concerned more with the soul being saved than with how you look in the attempt.
The point that I have reached now, sitting here, is one that I can reflect on and understand by degrees. Given the topic, I find it necessary to do this, to in a sense retrace the thread of how I got here, recalling the path of bread crumbs that led me through the forest. To think of preaching in terms of how others preach is a dead end. You are bound to consider form, style, and efficacy as only you perceive it. One cannot preach as an effect of having watched others preach - though you can learn from others. But on the subject of preaching, one can only consider how one got to where one is, to open one's heart, and speak the truth that God put there.
What after all is this odd word, "preaching?" It serves to host negative connotations, to be sure. The immediate impression I have is of someone - a man, of course - telling someone what they should believe. Well, there are all kinds of things wrong with that picture, but it is true to the characterization of poor preaching. And yet. Can we confidently say that standard out-of-the-box preaching - yelling "Christ is your savior" on the street corner - is perfectly ineffective? I would not say that. I think that passion presides fittingly at the occasion of conversion. The street preacher, quoting from scripture, charismatic, defiant, can be just the one to serve as the lightening rod of epiphany.
Passion matters as does personal care and attention. So we have preachers who describe themselves as witnesses to the truth, or its ministers. People who minister or witness or more likely to represent their faith by good works than in preaching per se. One can do all these things of course, but what concerns me here is the specific topic of preaching.
"Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature." (Mark 16:15)
This is a marvelous invocation and instruction. Anyone can see, I think, how people might be captivated and propelled by these very words. These words have sponsored the movements of missionaries, of saints and sinners too. The history of the world can be traced to the effect of these words, taken as absolute, as words of perfect instruction. This directive is really pretty astounding. It encompasses all people; or, arguably, all living creation. What "proclaim" means in this sentence must be more than preaching - unless one is St. Francis, we do not preach to birds and butterflies; but we can live in accord with the world, in unity with all creatures, and thereby proclaim the Gospel.
And what is the Gospel? Well, first and foremost, it is that Christ is your savior. (There, I said it!) But that gives the story away somewhat because a lot happened before Christ was resurrected as your savior. Obviously, he had to be born in the first place, which is where the Blessed Virgin enters the picture. But even before that, Christ was announced through prophecy (hello Holy Spirit); and before even that he was present, by the will of God, as "All things came to be through him, and without him nothing came to be." (John 1:3). So what we really have here is a story. And the reason this matters is that each one of us has a story too, and unless we bring our story into this conversation nothing is going to happen. Jesus Christ is not a picture hanging on the wall or merely a plaster Crucifix hanging from the ceiling. He is God and man, and each of us is man, created by God in his own image. Each of us - man, woman, and child - has a lot in common with Jesus Christ; more than is strictly comfortable, if you get my drift.
So, the Gospel is not merely a stated truth, a series of tenets, each with an assumption or premise, and arguments, and a conclusion. It is your story, if you care to see it in the light of revealed truth. The good news of the Gospel matters when and only when you - personally - decide it matters for you, personally. That does not mean that the good news does not exist unless you say it does. Oh, no. The Gospel will knock at your door, leave messages at work, drop little hints, show up in unexpected places. The Gospel will be, in turns, amusing and annoying, maybe even a little creepy. That's not so bad when you consider the entertainment value. After all, it's free. And then there's the potential for a reward which, I think it's safe to say, is without compare. Eternal life in the presence of the living God.
So, if all this is about story telling, then so is preaching, or witnessing, or ministering - whatever you want to call it. Maybe we should call it that: calling. What are you? A caller. What do you do? I call, what do you think I do? Well then, who are you calling?
By the grace of God, I am calling you.
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Preach, Proclaim - and, Blog?
While I have believed in God to a greater or lesser degree my entire waking life, until I became Catholic six years ago at the ripe age of 53 I held what were probably typical notions and opinions regarding Christian religious practices. Literal or fundamental biblical "interpretations" struck me as quaint, at best, and depressive, at worst. God, I was quite sure, simply wanted everyone to do their very best based on, well, whatever that meant for that person at the time. Insight, inspiration, and catechesis however has put to rest my "fundamental" skepticism regarding scriptural truth, allowing me develop a somewhat more developed ethos than what I was born with or drifted down to me through life in the suburbs. Why Christians, and Catholics especially, should hold to practices drawn directly from the Bible, measuring their days, as it were, against standards thousands of years old, makes perfect sense to me now. But the only reason this makes sense now, when it didn't before, is that I have come to accept and believe the tenets of the Catholic faith, expressed fully and conveniently in the Nicene Creed.
Nothing could be simpler. If a person believes a thing they are bound to act in accordance with the thing believed. It would be a failure not to, either hypocritical, or deceitful, or both. I prefer not to be any more hypocritical than is absolutely necessary. And as to deceit, I do not like the flavor of it. Not one bit. I hold that it is better to fail by one's lights than to merely succeed in the eyes of others, but who knows how I adopted this belief or where I got it from or from whom. It doesn't matter. What matters is now. I hold up to the light of Christ what I do, say, think and feel. What holds, abides. What fails must go. I do not pretend ever to be a model or substitute for Jesus Christ as everything I do, while it may not utterly contradict Him, is at the very best a pale substitute. But that's okay too, because my faith tells me so: my heart and the Church, who are closer to each other than I sometimes allow even myself to believe.
What concerns me here though isn't me per se but the topic of what we do when we believe and we set out to act on that belief. Furthermore, I will not be writing about politics. I know that must be a bit of a shock, and perhaps I should have warned you somehow that I would make such an outrageous promise. But I am convinced that, as important as political action is, it should be held somewhat to the side, or incidentally. That "incident" is the fact of the politics of one's time (giving unto Caesar what if Caesar's) whereas the practice of one's faith should be positioned directly before oneself and held to be first and foremost now and forever.
As Christians we are allowed a good deal of latitude on how we act, both in terms of what we do and how we do it. Christ himself provides concrete instructions to (and I paraphrase) love God with all our heart and our neighbor as ourselves, to perform the Corporal works of Mercy, with the understanding (via St. Paul) that to each one of us different but equal gifts of the spirit are accorded. And so, you can imagine that your typical Christian, in addition to considering Jesus Christ as a model for their overall behavior, spends a good deal of time "discerning" (as the expression has it) what he or she has to give and what he or she should do with it.
This question of what to do with oneself is certainly an engaging one. It's what leads men and women to adopt the religious life as priests, deacons, nuns, or sisters. It's what leads laypersons in less dramatic fashion to lend their talents or propensities to church affairs or in actions on behalf of persons in the community. And it's not a cut and dried matter as one's faith is always evolving and deepening, and so new and different sorts of work may be presented to oneself. For my own part, as a poet for 30 years or so before I became Catholic, I was drawn to reading at Mass. Of course, it's all a bit more complicated when you consider that the reason you were given the gift of writing and reading well may have been so that you might one day read at Mass - but that's a conversation for another day. I was drawn to reading at Mass and to writing on the subject of faith (thus my OpenCatholic website and this blog) even as my life blossomed and was filled with various graces, and I was drawn to serving the poor, helping out at my church, etc. So, there was a lot I was drawn to and I have been quite busy besides Mass and prayer.
But all this leads to something - as blog articles so often do - and that thing is preaching. I am fascinated by preaching or what it means to preach the Word of God. What exactly is it to "Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature"? (Mark 16:15) It can be many things, including the performance of good works and modeling good Christian behavior - but it is also, well, preaching. Speaking to other about their salvation in direct, certain terms. It is not something I have done...directly. I have written a couple hundred articles on this site that deal with faith or issues related to the faith, and you might say that is a form of preaching, and I would not disagree. You might say that reading at Mass is preaching, and I would probably agree there too.
But there is another form of preaching. The form, where a person speaks to another person about the salvation that is Jesus Christ. I have in mind that preaching is a form of confession of belief, on the one hand, and an admission of debt, or guilt, on the other. If all that mattered was that I am saved, I would not need to preach, No one would. But the fact that one feels personally charged to "go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature" means that a genuine obligation exists here, one that simply must be fulfilled.
But how to do it? I will consider that whats, hows, and wherefores in my next article, accompanied by related considerations, I am sure.
Peace be with you
Nothing could be simpler. If a person believes a thing they are bound to act in accordance with the thing believed. It would be a failure not to, either hypocritical, or deceitful, or both. I prefer not to be any more hypocritical than is absolutely necessary. And as to deceit, I do not like the flavor of it. Not one bit. I hold that it is better to fail by one's lights than to merely succeed in the eyes of others, but who knows how I adopted this belief or where I got it from or from whom. It doesn't matter. What matters is now. I hold up to the light of Christ what I do, say, think and feel. What holds, abides. What fails must go. I do not pretend ever to be a model or substitute for Jesus Christ as everything I do, while it may not utterly contradict Him, is at the very best a pale substitute. But that's okay too, because my faith tells me so: my heart and the Church, who are closer to each other than I sometimes allow even myself to believe.
What concerns me here though isn't me per se but the topic of what we do when we believe and we set out to act on that belief. Furthermore, I will not be writing about politics. I know that must be a bit of a shock, and perhaps I should have warned you somehow that I would make such an outrageous promise. But I am convinced that, as important as political action is, it should be held somewhat to the side, or incidentally. That "incident" is the fact of the politics of one's time (giving unto Caesar what if Caesar's) whereas the practice of one's faith should be positioned directly before oneself and held to be first and foremost now and forever.
As Christians we are allowed a good deal of latitude on how we act, both in terms of what we do and how we do it. Christ himself provides concrete instructions to (and I paraphrase) love God with all our heart and our neighbor as ourselves, to perform the Corporal works of Mercy, with the understanding (via St. Paul) that to each one of us different but equal gifts of the spirit are accorded. And so, you can imagine that your typical Christian, in addition to considering Jesus Christ as a model for their overall behavior, spends a good deal of time "discerning" (as the expression has it) what he or she has to give and what he or she should do with it.
This question of what to do with oneself is certainly an engaging one. It's what leads men and women to adopt the religious life as priests, deacons, nuns, or sisters. It's what leads laypersons in less dramatic fashion to lend their talents or propensities to church affairs or in actions on behalf of persons in the community. And it's not a cut and dried matter as one's faith is always evolving and deepening, and so new and different sorts of work may be presented to oneself. For my own part, as a poet for 30 years or so before I became Catholic, I was drawn to reading at Mass. Of course, it's all a bit more complicated when you consider that the reason you were given the gift of writing and reading well may have been so that you might one day read at Mass - but that's a conversation for another day. I was drawn to reading at Mass and to writing on the subject of faith (thus my OpenCatholic website and this blog) even as my life blossomed and was filled with various graces, and I was drawn to serving the poor, helping out at my church, etc. So, there was a lot I was drawn to and I have been quite busy besides Mass and prayer.
But all this leads to something - as blog articles so often do - and that thing is preaching. I am fascinated by preaching or what it means to preach the Word of God. What exactly is it to "Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature"? (Mark 16:15) It can be many things, including the performance of good works and modeling good Christian behavior - but it is also, well, preaching. Speaking to other about their salvation in direct, certain terms. It is not something I have done...directly. I have written a couple hundred articles on this site that deal with faith or issues related to the faith, and you might say that is a form of preaching, and I would not disagree. You might say that reading at Mass is preaching, and I would probably agree there too.
But there is another form of preaching. The form, where a person speaks to another person about the salvation that is Jesus Christ. I have in mind that preaching is a form of confession of belief, on the one hand, and an admission of debt, or guilt, on the other. If all that mattered was that I am saved, I would not need to preach, No one would. But the fact that one feels personally charged to "go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature" means that a genuine obligation exists here, one that simply must be fulfilled.
But how to do it? I will consider that whats, hows, and wherefores in my next article, accompanied by related considerations, I am sure.
Peace be with you
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Love in Ordinary Time
On the one side is what we recall, on the other is our hopes. We occupy, or say we do, a constantly shifting middle ground called "now." Or are we occupied by it? Who's the host in this arrangement and who is the guest?
You may fall in love or you may sign a contract. You will want to fall in love and then sign a contract. You do not want to be signing contracts that look like love but are not love. You do not need to put yourself under self-induced obligations to anyone or anything other than the few, the very few things you love. I do not need to tell you what you love. You can tell me. But I may say to you, Then why are you contracted to this thing that is not among the things you love? And you may say, Oh, I love that too. And I will say, I wonder if that is strictly true, or have opened the door to the slippery slope of disregard, by which many false, sad contracts are signed? Love is not accommodation, though can love and be accommodating.
Failure is not a thing one needs to induce or enter into in order to know the world or the love of the world. It may seem that way, by way of explanation or making excuses for ourselves, but it is not strictly true. Nothing is true which must be known by failing to get at another thing. You say, Failure made me humble. I say, do not treat humility as the offspring of failure. Failure made you aware of the sadness you carry within. You looked with yourself, having nowhere else to turn, and recognized sadness. Did you realize then that we all suffer in this way? That is a great gift and accomplishment, but it was not the result of failure. Instead, failure was the result of the sadness you could not bear. You acted as if you could not afford to be sad but now here you are. Now you know that you have nothing to fear as long as you remember that sadness within you. If you can keep in mind the sadness of others you will see failures for merely being failures. One does not need to fail in order to know the world, but the world knows us despite our failure to know ourselves.
Properly speaking, there is nothing that does not exist. Even dreams are an effect or property of effect. The idea of a thing exists as that idea. A saxophone-playing bicycle. Simple. I am interested in the notion that one can escape in dreams when of course there is no escape. Failure may overwhelm you and so dreams are a practical means of defeating that failure. A starving man needs bread; a failed man needs dreams. I take dreams quite literally as I do any signpost. There is no harm in this sort of conservative investment. Discounting dreams is a tactic employed by people who are inclined to over-invest in other fantasies, such as purpose and power. Purpose and power are as real as dreams, of course, but over-investment contorts the boundaries of purpose and power and creates fantasies and, often, poor behavior. Dreamers are likely to be better behaved than fantasizers. Or, one is bound to behave better dreaming. A dreamer has a goal to work toward, while a fantasizer misshapes and corrupts the form and nature of a thing that, for all we know, may serve as another person's dream. So, while there is nothing that does not exist, there are some things that should not exist. But even these things exist and serve a purpose, describing not paths so much as boundary limits.
One who loves posits the question whether they are loved in return. One who hates does so at no risk to themselves.
Hate is a means for evading the question, Do you love me too?
You may fall in love or you may sign a contract. You will want to fall in love and then sign a contract. You do not want to be signing contracts that look like love but are not love. You do not need to put yourself under self-induced obligations to anyone or anything other than the few, the very few things you love. I do not need to tell you what you love. You can tell me. But I may say to you, Then why are you contracted to this thing that is not among the things you love? And you may say, Oh, I love that too. And I will say, I wonder if that is strictly true, or have opened the door to the slippery slope of disregard, by which many false, sad contracts are signed? Love is not accommodation, though can love and be accommodating.
Failure is not a thing one needs to induce or enter into in order to know the world or the love of the world. It may seem that way, by way of explanation or making excuses for ourselves, but it is not strictly true. Nothing is true which must be known by failing to get at another thing. You say, Failure made me humble. I say, do not treat humility as the offspring of failure. Failure made you aware of the sadness you carry within. You looked with yourself, having nowhere else to turn, and recognized sadness. Did you realize then that we all suffer in this way? That is a great gift and accomplishment, but it was not the result of failure. Instead, failure was the result of the sadness you could not bear. You acted as if you could not afford to be sad but now here you are. Now you know that you have nothing to fear as long as you remember that sadness within you. If you can keep in mind the sadness of others you will see failures for merely being failures. One does not need to fail in order to know the world, but the world knows us despite our failure to know ourselves.
Properly speaking, there is nothing that does not exist. Even dreams are an effect or property of effect. The idea of a thing exists as that idea. A saxophone-playing bicycle. Simple. I am interested in the notion that one can escape in dreams when of course there is no escape. Failure may overwhelm you and so dreams are a practical means of defeating that failure. A starving man needs bread; a failed man needs dreams. I take dreams quite literally as I do any signpost. There is no harm in this sort of conservative investment. Discounting dreams is a tactic employed by people who are inclined to over-invest in other fantasies, such as purpose and power. Purpose and power are as real as dreams, of course, but over-investment contorts the boundaries of purpose and power and creates fantasies and, often, poor behavior. Dreamers are likely to be better behaved than fantasizers. Or, one is bound to behave better dreaming. A dreamer has a goal to work toward, while a fantasizer misshapes and corrupts the form and nature of a thing that, for all we know, may serve as another person's dream. So, while there is nothing that does not exist, there are some things that should not exist. But even these things exist and serve a purpose, describing not paths so much as boundary limits.
One who loves posits the question whether they are loved in return. One who hates does so at no risk to themselves.
Hate is a means for evading the question, Do you love me too?
Friday, January 5, 2018
Read, Believe, and Surrender
I would like to suggest a threshold event for humanitarianism, that being empathy.
I do not pretend to understand how we are capable of leaving our own skin in a very real sense to occupy the sensibility of others, to feel as they feel, to not merely sympathize but to feel as they do, to empathize. To sacrifice our own feelings to that. To put ourselves to one side to dwell in another's skin and to, furthermore, act to help them and, God willing, to save them. I do not understand how it is that we can do this, but we do.
I say "humanitarianism" even as I have Christ in mind, but I do not say "Christianity" as not every self-proclaimed Christian is of an empathetic nature. Empathy is a light burden if you are inclined, but if you are not it appears to be virtually impossible to obtain. The non-empathetic Christian is preoccupied with their duty toward God to the exclusion of mercy toward his or her neighbor. The non-empathetic Christian views empathy as a fault. As weakness.
The non-empathetic Christian is not, strictly speaking, Christian at all.
How Christian is empathy, after all? I believe that the entirety of the Gospels rests and relies on empathy as the critical distinction that signals the reign of Christ.
Do I sound a bit fed-up?
I am a bit fed-up.
I am tired of self-righteous posturing. I am tired of disregard. I am tired of people who say "God" but mean "Me." "My Me, have mercy on Me. Lead Me to greener pastures where Me is regarded in the light deserving Me. Teach all people the glory of Me. Let those who do not properly reverence Me suffer as Me sees fit. My Me, have mercy."
If you cannot put yourself to the side, if you cannot abandon your own feelings, thoughts, and opinions, you have slim claim as a Christian. Simply put: vacate. Abandon you. Shut. Up. Go. Home. Stop. Stop. Stop.
When the world is collapsing, when the world is burning and all is lost, the Christian will not be screaming I told you so. The Christian, whether he or she conducts themselves in the currently (2018) approved manner, will be the one reaching out to another soul to ask, "How can I help." In that act, the Christian is both honors their belief and is believable.
I know too many Christians who worry and argue about what Christianity is rather then simply believing in it and living what it is. For the love of Mike. If there is a clearer user manual than the Bible I would live to see it.
Read
Believe
Surrender
Let God take care of the rest.
I do not pretend to understand how we are capable of leaving our own skin in a very real sense to occupy the sensibility of others, to feel as they feel, to not merely sympathize but to feel as they do, to empathize. To sacrifice our own feelings to that. To put ourselves to one side to dwell in another's skin and to, furthermore, act to help them and, God willing, to save them. I do not understand how it is that we can do this, but we do.
I say "humanitarianism" even as I have Christ in mind, but I do not say "Christianity" as not every self-proclaimed Christian is of an empathetic nature. Empathy is a light burden if you are inclined, but if you are not it appears to be virtually impossible to obtain. The non-empathetic Christian is preoccupied with their duty toward God to the exclusion of mercy toward his or her neighbor. The non-empathetic Christian views empathy as a fault. As weakness.
The non-empathetic Christian is not, strictly speaking, Christian at all.
How Christian is empathy, after all? I believe that the entirety of the Gospels rests and relies on empathy as the critical distinction that signals the reign of Christ.
Do I sound a bit fed-up?
I am a bit fed-up.
I am tired of self-righteous posturing. I am tired of disregard. I am tired of people who say "God" but mean "Me." "My Me, have mercy on Me. Lead Me to greener pastures where Me is regarded in the light deserving Me. Teach all people the glory of Me. Let those who do not properly reverence Me suffer as Me sees fit. My Me, have mercy."
If you cannot put yourself to the side, if you cannot abandon your own feelings, thoughts, and opinions, you have slim claim as a Christian. Simply put: vacate. Abandon you. Shut. Up. Go. Home. Stop. Stop. Stop.
When the world is collapsing, when the world is burning and all is lost, the Christian will not be screaming I told you so. The Christian, whether he or she conducts themselves in the currently (2018) approved manner, will be the one reaching out to another soul to ask, "How can I help." In that act, the Christian is both honors their belief and is believable.
I know too many Christians who worry and argue about what Christianity is rather then simply believing in it and living what it is. For the love of Mike. If there is a clearer user manual than the Bible I would live to see it.
Read
Believe
Surrender
Let God take care of the rest.
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