Tag: Christ

Be 10!

Before I get to my topic for this post, let me take care of a few housekeeping items. First, I’d like to acknowledge and apologize for the long gap between posts. The fact is that I’ve been working on some personal goals and self-examination. Writing about issues of faith and spirituality can be daunting at such times. I realize, intellectually at least, that if I offer these humble articles as gifts of love, and if I have faith, then I shouldn’t be afraid to share my thoughts with you, and I shouldn’t entertain thoughts of inadequacy of rhetoric, style, or tone. I was just looking at some stats and it appears that I drifted away at exactly the wrong time. I was blessed to receive 183 views of this site in the first week of February. That is probably a small number in the vast universe that is social media presence, but it’s a big deal to me. I hope a large percentage of that 183 will return when they see that there is finally some new content. More than that, I ask always for your prayers; if you are reading this, please consider keeping this blog and its author in your daily prayers. I shall, in return, pray earnestly for all of you. Second, I just want to let you know that, for now anyway, I’m not going to write about the current scandals facing the Church. I don’t pretend to be a religious journalist, and pretty much everyone from Rome to Madison Avenue to Jakarta has opined on what happened, what should happen, and what they think is going to happen. I don’t feel that I have anything cogent to offer on the subject. I will pray—hard—for the victims and I encourage you do to so as well.

Alright, then! I’m back and I hope you are as well. May the Grace and Peace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, which passes all understanding, be with you all. Now: today’s topic.

When one really steps back and takes a breath and a broad view of the relationship one has with Our Lord, it becomes clear that we humans are complicated, but Christ’s love for us is really very simple and direct. We were all created in God’s image, but we were not created to be co-divine. That might sound obvious, but it is an important point. We are imperfect beings that are nonetheless objects of perfect love. That is probably why we often refer to ourselves as “children of God,” and not “brothers and sisters to God.” We don’t always act that way, though. We kick around concepts of religion and theology like they are vast, complex, and very “grown-up” issues. The truth is that religion might get you a book deal, and theology might get you a teaching gig, but salvation is an outpouring of God’s Grace in the form of Christ’s love for all of us and his passion on the cross. We can wrestle with didactic arguments if it makes us feel important, but I think that we would be better served by making ourselves “10-years-old for Christ.”

One of the many blessings in my life are the group of my adopted nieces and nephews. Mostly, these are the children of very close friends who are now more like family. One of them is my adorable goddaughter who is still a toddler, another is a wife and mother of her own toddler now, and still another will be confirmed this year and has honored me by asking me to be her sponsor (a decision she might now regret, because if I’m your sponsor, I’m picking you up every Sunday morning to go with me to Mass). This morning I got to spend some time with yet another neat person who calls me “Uncle Paul.” Her mother had an early appointment, so I was tapped to be on hand to ensure that she got on the school bus safely. She was already up and moving when I arrived. She had her breakfast, washed her face and combed her hair, picked out her outfit and got dressed, checked over her homework, made sure she had all important books and papers in her backpack, took the dog out to do its business, secured said dog in its day-crate, retrieved her lunch, closed and locked up the house, and headed to the driveway to wait for the school bus. I must admit that I was wondering what the heck I was doing there. She certainly didn’t need my help for anything. I was, of course, security. I was an adult presence there in case of any unforeseen issue and so I could make sure that she got on the bus safely. She didn’t need me in any tangible way, but she could be comfortable in the fact that I was there; that I was watching over her. I reminded her that I work from home, so I am always nearby and asked her if she had my cell phone number in case of an emergency and she confirmed that she did. In the midst of the small talk while we were waiting for the bus, she paused and looked up at me and said in a discernibly serious tone, “Tomorrow, I’m going to be 10 years old.” I was struck with a real sense that she was in tune with the fact that she isn’t a baby anymore. She is a person with a strong sense of identity and self-awareness, but she also understands that she’s still a kid, and she needs the security and stability that the adults in her life provide.

It is a relatively non-eventful anecdote, but I share it with you because I think it provides a metaphor for the way God can act in our daily lives. If through prayer and other means, we tune ourselves into the security and stability of Grace, then we can go about our daily responsibilities efficiently and earnestly, because we have that sense that Christ is with us and God is always there. I want to be 10 again for Christ. I think Christ opens us to the freedom of being loved at that level. Sin is the unforeseen incident, and God is the adult in the room that, through Christ, removes the obstacles so we can get back to living normally and healthfully. I want to be 10 again for Christ. Take a second and think about your best friend in 5th grade. I’ll bet you are smiling. At 10, one’s personality is developed enough that deep and sincere relationships can bond and form, but one is still young enough that much of the flotsam and jetsam that creeps into our lives in our teen years hasn’t hit yet. I want to learn to love all the people in my life the way that my niece loves her dog, her best friend, her family, and unicorns. I want to feel the sense of safety and security she feels when her dad gets home, or when her Uncle Paul is there to make sure she gets on the bus okay. I want to be 10 again for Christ. I want to understand deeply that I am always welcome in the house of the Lord, and that I can be me, and that I don’t have to prove anything to Christ. This is the true power that Christ gifts to us through the cross. Not the power to conquer nations or build huge ministries or massive churches. We can do those things, and He can be our guide and our strength in all endeavors. But I want to be 10 again for Christ. I want to shake off the bothersome and nagging adult issues that try so hard to pull us away from our relationship with the Lord. I want to be 10 again for Christ, and I want to hear with a 10-year-old’s ears, and believe with a 10-year-old’s faith, and love with a 10-year-old’s heart when I hear Christ Jesus say, “Remember that I will be with you always; even unto the end of the age.” I pray that all of you will reconnect with your own inner 10-year-old as well. It’s good to be back on the blog. Thanks for reading my humble musings. Believe that you are special and worthy of love because God made you who you are, and Christ loves you very much, and may God bless us, protect us from all evil, and bring us to everlasting life.

Crossing the Alleluia Threshold

I wonder if any of you feel the same thing I do today.

Holy Thursday is unique in that it literally straddles two seasons of the Liturgical year. Morning prayer this morning was a Lenten observance; the final Lenten observance. The Easter Triduum began with Holy Thursday Mass, or Evening prayer depending on the form one selects for observing this special day in the calendar. I found the tangible threshold of passing over (pun only slightly intended) from Lent to Easter in the pages of the Divine Office very pronounced. We find ourselves at the end of a long 40 days of penance, alms giving, self-denial, and self-examination. Tomorrow is, of course, a day of great personal and introspective prayer. If today is a day of threshold, tomorrow is a day of peering over the precipice. Tonight, Christ asks us to serve one another and remember him in a special way. Tomorrow, we ponder the concept of life without Christ. It is always startling to dip one’s finger into the Baptismal font as a matter of habit only to find it empty and dry. Perhaps, after such a long time away from this blog, I’ll write more tomorrow about Good Friday. Right now, though, I want to stay focused on today and this evening and return to this concept of the Holy Thursday threshold. We should, I think, be relieved to return to normal; to enjoy with abandon those things we gave up for Lent, to have meat back on Fridays, to sing and say “Alleluia!” at Mass once again. I wonder, however, if any of you feel, as I do, a bit of sadness at the departure of Lent. It is such a spiritual time. Is there not something calming in the stoic, measured, and deep nature of our Church lives during these six weeks? I think that in the same way Christmas brings out the child in all of us, Lent brings out the grown-up. We have all heard the common admonition that we should carry a bit of the Christmas spirit with us all through the year. I think we should carry a bit of Lent with us all year as well. Or, maybe I’m just weak and I need the structure of the discipline a designated block of time provides. There is no maybe. I am weak. I do need the structure. It’s why you haven’t seen a post from me for a while. I’ve been soul-searching during Lent, and it gave me pause; made me hesitant to write about things that I’m still so actively exploring myself.

I guess what I want to say is that this has been a meaningful Lent for me, and I hope that it has been for you as well. As we cross this Alleluia threshold into Easter and head toward Pentecost, I find that I still can’t discern if Lent is a journey, or if it is a rest stop on the roadside of a bigger journey. Either way, part of me will miss the day-to-day wins and losses of trying to carve out a better receptacle for God’s love, Christ’s sacrifice, and a bounty of a Grace that passes all understanding.

A blessed Triduum to you all!

Weapons of Self-Restraint

Jesus said,

“:…when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face 18 so that your fasting will not be noticed by men, but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.” (Mt. 6:17)

It is not a complex teaching. It’s quite direct, and it gives me pause. The whole first section of Matthew chapter 6 comprises similar direct teachings on the dangers of overt piety. I find myself in a dilemma. Publishing a blog inherently involves a certain amount of attention seeking. No matter the motive, one cannot get around the fact that blogging says, “Hey! Look at me; listen to what I have to say!” Lent is supposed to be a time of introspection and preparation. A time for a new examination of short-comings, not a time to polish and proclaim one’s talents. I held off publishing anything on Ash Wednesday, because these thoughts troubled me. I even thought that maybe I should set this site aside for the entire 40 days. On the other hand, I’ve decided to start a blog with a religious and Catholic theme, and it seems almost an act of malfeasance not to share the thoughts and experiences coming my way between now and Holy Week. I think the best course of action, then, is to proceed, but to do so cautiously and carefully. With that in mind, I would like to share a few thoughts about this season we have just entered. In sharing my heart a bit, I hope to give you some food for thought, and maybe some encouragement. Reactions and comments, by-the-way, are always welcomed.

I Love You

I do. Even if I have never met you, I love you.  I  feel this in a very strong way with regard to the general topic of spiritual examination. For those of you who practice Lenten traditional practices, we share something very deep, and an understanding of the hope and purpose these traditions embody. Other net travelers who land here and are still reading out of interest or slight curiosity make a gift of that interest and curiosity.  Gifts like that are the seeds that lead to fraternal blossoms, and can bear much fraternal fruit. To all, then, I say very sincerely: brothers and sisters, I love you.

You Are Not Alone

Many religious people from all walks of life take individual affirmative spiritual actions–like sacrifice, vocation, alms-giving, and prayer–throughout the year. The wonderful thing about Lent is that we all do it together and at the same time. It is not just about getting ourselves prepared for Christ’s Passion and Resurrection. It is also about renewing our sense of Apostolic responsibility to each other. As each individual abstains or gives alms, it pulls the focus off of self and puts it on God. When we are focused on how much we love that cheeseburger, that chocolate bar, that diet soda, or that glass of fine Scotch, we fixate on the fleeting and the perishable; the meaningless. Our backs are turned, even if only for a short time, from the rest of the faithful. When we return our focus back to God, though, we turn our faces toward the truth, and find ourselves shoulder-to-shoulder instead of back-to-back. I don’t mean to say that we only care about others for 40 days out of the year. My point is that the 40 days is the conditioning, training, and refocusing work that carries us through the rest of the liturgical year. The concluding prayer for the Morning Hours in the Divine Office for Ash Wednesday referred to fasting and penance as “weapons of self-restraint.”  We cannot battle the challenges, or overcome the obstacles the ever-decaying world throws at us without tools, and we cannot do it alone. That phrase really jumped off the page at me. In a recent post, Catholic mom and blogger, Pilar, details the way even acquaintances in a parish community rally together to face the toughest challenges of life and support each other through prayer, help, and love. [https://thepapistsquirrel.wordpress.com/2018/02/16/ashes-to-ashes/] We don together our “weapons of self-restraint,” and protect each other.

Rejoicing in Grace and Salvation

One of  the most well-known calls to action in scripture comes from the Psalms:

“This is the day which the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  (Ps 118:24)

During Lent, that can be a big ask. The word “Alleluia” disappears from Mass and the daily prayers of the Church. It’s often wet, cold, and gloomy. We hit a rough day, and even the comfort of that favorite item we’ve given up is not there as a reward to greet us at that day’s end. Deep in prayer, abstinence, fasting, alms-giving, and self-examination, we  can struggle to find fuel for rejoicing. The reasons remain. We must always remember that we aren’t fasting, abstaining, praying deeply, and giving alms for our sake. Penance isn’t a punch card that when completed gets us a reservation to Heaven. Grace remains constant. The Cross of Christ’s passion is a never-ending bulwark of salvation. If we endure discomfort in our earthly bodies, of what real concern is that? We are dust and to dust we shall return. Those smudges we sport on Ash Wednesday are certainly not fashion statements. Penance and fasting don’t blot out the joy of realizing the Love, Mercy, and Grace of the Gospel. They are expressions of that joy. That’s the mystery. These “weapons of self-restraint” are not restraining, but liberating. They allow us to push ourselves out of the way, so we can fully know the Mercy of God, through the passionate Love of Christ our savior, with the power of the Holy Spirit, which gives us hope and faith.

May the Lord Bless us,
protect us from all evil,
and bring us to eternal life.
Amen.