I didn't know Cathy. I never met her until I gave her Last Rites last week. As I stood by her bedside, I saw the same pained faces of those who loved her gathered around with me. Cathy had profound Down's Syndrome. Her life, by most people's standards, was severely limited by her disease. Yet, she had a profound effect on those around her. For 20 years, Cathy had been a resident at Ruth Jensen Village. Ruth Jensen Village is a residential set of group homes in Bowling Green, Missouri where those who suffer from such diseases are cared for and given great and loving care.
This gave me a unique moment in my priesthood; preparing a funeral homily for someone with such a profound disability. It got me thinking. Over the years, I have met many who have had a variety of disability and diseases. Many think these people as a curse. In the US, 90% of babies diagnosed with Downs Syndrome are aborted. Somehow these people are seen as burdens and impediments. In my own family, I have several nieces and nephews that are somewhere on the autism scale. Neither them, nor Cathy, nor anyone I have met with such disabilities are any less human than myself, any less worthy of compassion, friendship, and empathy than any other person. They have right to their dignity and integrity being upheld as much as anyone else. These people do present a challenge to us; and I believe that is what scares so many. How we treat such people says much more about us than it does them.
Cathy was incapable of sin. She lacked the capacity. What a blessing! She was never able to choose against God and fall out of the relationship extended to her through baptism. She certainly was among those that Jesus was speaking of when he said, "Let them come to me, to such belongs the Kingdom of Heaven!" I cannot help but believe that she heard "Well done, My good and faithful servant, enter the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." I would imagine some might be thinking, "Hold on there, father! Really." Absolutely! Her whole life she offered those around her the chance at becoming better people. She offered, through her sufferings, the chance for people to rise to the greatest nobility within themselves to step outside of themselves and love unconditionally. Many will no doubt ask, "How can a loving God inflict such a person?" My answer is that it is not God, but man, that puts these qualitative standards upon the disabled, thinking them as something less than fully human because they suffer what they do. God sees them as He sees everyone: as someone worthy of His love and compassion.
I firmly believe what troubles us about people such as Cathy is not who they are, but who they reveal about who we are! I listen to my siblings and admire them a great deal. They do get down when there are setbacks with their children...all of them! They do rejoice in the victories of their children..all of them. I have never heard any of them differentiate their children into normal and abnormal children...but simply as their being their children...every single one of them. That everyone could have the same vision about all people, disabled or not. I see the compassion that they and their children show. I saw the compassion that the staff at Ruth Jensen had for Cathy and it makes me want to be a better person.
So many times, in funeral homilies, I make a point of pointing out that the limitations that life inflicts upon us are forever gone when we pass from this life. As I watched my dad deteriorate from Parkinson's, I took comfort in that it could no longer touch him. I have made the same observations about those who suffered from cancer and whole host of debilitating diseases. I look forward to seeing dad again with him at full strength. I look forward to meeting Cathy someday. I think it will be a wonderful conversation.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
Reflections on Good Friday
First, everything is Scripture points to Jesus knowing exactly what was happening and willingly going into the fire. On many occasions He tells His disciples what will happen to Him in Jerusalem. They fail over and over to listen. He makes no effort to dissuade Judas. He deliberately goes to the Garden of Gethsemane knowing full well Judas will seek Him out there. He does run nor resist arrest. He does not argue or plead His case either in front of the Sanhedrin nor in front of Pilate. He does not tap into His divine authority to destroy those who plot against Him or who are carrying out the over the top torture or the execution. Why? Purely because He loves us. No other reason. The Father loves us, even in our deep ugliness and distorted look from our sin. His son pays a debt we cannot; His act of supreme love, a total emptying of self repays the debt incurred by our every act of selfishness, hatred, intolerance, prejudice, pride, wrath, and every other action that despises the integrity and dignity of those around us.
But He does not force this act of forgiveness upon us. We have to acknowledge the need we had for what He did and ask for help. That is hard. We have a tendency to carry the weight of our mistakes, our inhumanity, our grudges, our biases, and our hate as if they prize possessions. Many believe that if I ignore them that they simply disappear into the ether. All that is done is that they are pushed deep into the subconsciousness where they fester and pollute; leaving the individual a veritable potpourri of hate, impatience, and anger. It builds resentment ad hostility. Reality cannot be run from, only masked, and then only for a moment. The Cross reminds us that a Loving God does not want us crushed and enslaved by our own choosing, but wants to lift these crosses from our shoulders and replace them with a freedom. How sad that so many see this as an insult and sternly allowed themselves to be weighed down through all of life. It is a variation of "Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven." In hell, I can keep my biases, prejudices, grudges, intolerance, and pride. In hell, I can be selfish and materialistic. Even if it keeps me in a place that makes me miserable, even if it poisons every relationship I have, people can prefer enslavement to such things to the new life Christ extends to us through the Cross and its forgiveness of all sin. Why?
Because a new life means a new way of living. If I allow God to wipe away my sinfulness, I cannot embrace it again. I have to use new ways and embrace new things. Patience must replace impatience, understanding must replace intolerance, trust must replace grudges, selflessness must replace selfishness, and so on. I think we are all too unaware that the sin we choose to carry become heavy crosses in other people's life. Personal selfishness helps weighs down others in fueling a crushing need for the basics (be they physical or emotional). My grudges become crosses thrust upon the shoulders of those with whom I am angry. I could go on, but hopefully the point is taken. As Christ say: "Whatever you did or did not do for the least of my brothers (and sisters) you did or did not do for me. Hence when we thrust a cross on someone else, we thrust it onto the shoulders of Christ. When we choose anger, cruelty, revenge, lust, greed and other self centered crosses on others to carry, we thrust them onto the Christ who loves each and every one of them. Life comes with enough natural crosses (sickness for example) with the necessity of our putting crosses on other people's back or even weighing ourselves down with these unnecessary crosses Even in the natural crosses, Christ helps us carry them...why on earth would we think a it a good things to pile on more ?!
This Good Friday, as we are thankful for the eternal love God shows as he Son dies for us; let us resolve to let go of the unnecessary crosses of wrath, selfishness, and such that we pile on our own shoulders and upon the shoulders of others. Let us let these crosses dissolve through the love shown us so that we might live as those who are free and wants others to be free of the crushing weight of greed, bias, and selfishness
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Reflections on Holy Thursday
Tonight begins the Triduum (three days) in which we celebrate the central core of our faith. Tonight we celebrate the Mass of the Lord's Supper. This day we normally celebrate the founding of the priesthood and the Eucharist. Both are founded as divine service ordered towards the salvation of humanity. Both only exist in that they serve as ways that God and His people can be unified. Let me take this in two parts:
First, in the giving of the Eucharist, Jesus shows us that God loves us so much so that He holds nothing back from us. He gives us the life of His only Son to satisfy the eternal debt we had incurred through our rebellion to God. God never writes us off. God never says that we have gone past the point of no return in this life. No matter how hateful, vindictive, selfish, and unforgiving we have been towards Him or towards others. God wants to forgive, He wants to no longer hold our failings against us. He wants us to rise to the glory and full capacity of our being human beings. As we could not do this for ourselves, He does it for us. He sacrifices Himself!
He solidifies this in giving us the Eucharist. In Judaism, when a sin/peace offering was done (and this includes the Passover) the person (s) who brought the unblemished animal forward for sacrifice, not everything was burned on the altar. The person had to eat part of the sacrifice or the sacrifice lost its meaning. In uniting the person with the sacrificial offering, the person admits that the animal received the sentence rightfully due the person and in eating it receives the benefit of the sacrifice. In John 6, Jesus says, "Unless eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and drink His Blood, you have no life within you." Jesus came, as St John the Baptist calls Him, to be the Lamb of God, the lamb that God Himself would provide (as Abraham told Isaac), the unblemished human being who would be sacrificed for us. At the Last Supper, Jesus takes the elements commonly used in the Passover meal (or any meal for that matter), bread and wine, and proclaims them to be, as in A=B, to be Hos flesh and His blood which would now be able to breath new life into those who choose to follow Him. Jesus so loves us despite our imperfections that He gives all and only ask that we love Him in return. How is that love lived though?
This leads to the second point. In most places the Chrism Mass is celebrated today. The Chrism Mass is where the oils to be used throughout the diocese are blessed by the Bishop. The oils: Sacred Chrism (used in all baptisms, confirmations, and ordinations to the priesthood and the episcopacy), the oil of catechumens (used in baptism) and the oil of the sick (used for the Anointing of the Sick). During the same Mass , priests are asked to renew the promises they made at the ordination. All of this is done because there is service to be rendered. As they are the ones who have the duty of attending the the sacramental needs of their parishioners, they are reminded that that relationship is that of a servant to those he serves, where HE is the servant.
This point is driven home by an action takes place during the Holy Thursday Mass: the Washing of the Feet. In Semitic cultures, the foot was the dirtiest part of the body and only the lowest of the low servants was charged with the task of washing feet. Peter, during the Last Supper, is taken aback when Jesus starts washing feet. This simply was not done. The washing of feet was a humiliation. Yet, here is Jesus doing so.
When He finishes doing so He instructs the apostles that as He has done so they should do. When Jesus founds the priesthood it was not create an aristocracy, but a group of servants! He, as servant, offers Himself up for the good of others. He expects the same of those who will be ordained to carry out His mission. I have said in the past about myself that I realize that the parish is not my kingdom nor are parishioners my subjects. Properly, I am to be a servant of those placed under my care. For service to be rendered necessitates selflessness. Every scandal the Church has ever endured has the same repugnant seed of selfishness, from Judas' betrayal to the sex scandals if recent ages. That we are called to serve is why the pastor is called to wash the feet of his parishioners, it is meant to be humbling and remind him that he is the servant of the congregation, not its master.
However, the pastor and priests are not the only ones called to serve. Note that same chrism used in Holy Orders is used in baptism and confirmation. Sacred Chrism was used to set aside a person as a priest, prophet, or king. When a person is baptized, during the anointing with Chrism, they or their parents are told that they are now consecrated to share in the service of Christ, that is, in His mission. hence, all who claim to be Catholic are called to serve others and serve God: we serve God by serving others! No more than selfishness can reside in the heart of a cleric can it reside the heart of any baptized person. The Body and Blood are given to us to become better servants. So, how is it I serve today? How is it you'll serve today?
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Lessons from my father
I apologize in advance for what I am sure will be a long entry. Bear with me. I have had a month now to digest what happened a month ago today. Being an introvert, I simmer on my thoughts, slow cooking them. I filter them through my beliefs, my knowledge, and my feelings. It occurs to me that I had not just learned lessons from my father over the last month, but over my lifetime. My dad had not become in his last month of life something that he was not before. Perhaps I just saw it in its purest form. Like a pupil whose teacher stops suddenly, I feel a bit lost in fleshing things out, but, flesh them out I must.
My dad taught me many lessons, some were easy, most were difficult. Many he spoke of frequently, most his actions spoke most powerfully. Many were consciously listened to, most were subconsciously taken in and molded who I am. I write this to distill a few of those lessons.
Lesson 1: Who you are is determined by the sum of your choices. Dad never could have been called a racist, a homophobe, a sexist, or a elitist. He did not pretend to understand all there was about the human person, but he did know that their choices and free will actions showed the kind of person individuals were. We were never taught to be suspicious of a person because they were different than we were. WE were taught to differentiate the person from their failings. He would be disappointed when people made decisions solely based on one aspect of the person ( race, gender, etc) Dad did not believe in collecting antagonistic relationships. Life would present enough of them on its own, there was no need to seek them.
Lesson 2: Playing politics is never worth the rewards gained. Dad hated politics. He hated the duplicity. He hated the back-stabbing, manipulation, self-serving relationships, and deceit necessary to play politics well. I am not speaking of merely politics as in governance, but more to the point, office politics. Getting more money was never worth selling out his beliefs. He was there to do a job and do it to the best of his abilities. He believed in advancement by merit alone. If that meant he got passed over for a raise or a promotion, then so be it. Integrity mattered more than status. It would have been easy for him to sell out and use the excuse that he had a family to provide for. He didn't. If he got a promotion or raise he wanted to know it was because he had earned it. I always respected that about him.
Lesson 3: Sometimes the bad guy wins and how one deals with that says a lot about the individual. I never heard my dad say that life was unfair. He detested the concept of fair and unfair because it was always a subjective thing. Fair or unfair by whose standards? By what criteria? Sometimes you could do everything right and still get screwed. Because you play by the rules does not mean your opponent will. Sometimes their deceit and machinations gave them the edge. Sometimes they won the job, the promotion, the raise, and so on. As dad found it more important to be able to look at himself in the mirror than be admired for something he wasn't. It meant that he got up, dusted himself off, and kept doing the right thing. Sometimes you lose. The true test of the person was whether the person could walk away with their integrity and dignity intact. It meant many harsh lessons. It meant giving up temporary advances and advantages. It meant not being afraid of failure.
Lesson 4: It is only stuff. Dad had great attachment to people and animals. He loved nature and was fascinated with the outdoors. People came before things. Always. Taking advantage of people to get more things made no sense to him, Despoiling the world to get more things made no sense to him. Things were not worth it. He didn't need copious amounts of stuff. He lived comfortably and simply. He could have lived much higher and simply chose not to. He wasn't cheap. But he didn't spend money for the sake of spending money. His taste were simple. He could go overboard, say, on vitamins and supplements. But for most all else, simplicity of life was what he desired.
Lesson 5: You'll not find nor create heaven on earth. Heaven was when we died, not now. Our task here was to be the best we could be. We were to use God's grace, be detached from material goods, be honest, friendly, and competent. We cannot change anyone else but ourselves and only hope that our way of life might attract others. Here, people would be dishonest, greedy, envious and power hungry and other people will suffer for it. Accidents happen, disasters happen, sickness happens, death happens. That is the nature of the material world. Fighting it was futile and maddening. It was we approached these disasters and disappointments that mattered. He stayed positive even when there seemed no reason to be so. He did not expect perfection here so it didn't throw him when he didn't get it.
Lesson 6: Faith matters. For dad, faith wasn't a set of beliefs treated like a family heirloom to be trotted out for special occasions; it was a daily lived experience. It was what drove him. I could go on and on about this but I think it suffices to say that if you read the other lessons, you can see how faith permeated all those lessons.
My dad was not a perfect man. He would correct me for saying otherwise. However, it is fair to say that he tried to be the best man he could be. That was all that could be asked. I assume, like myself, that when he stood before God, he wasn't asked "why weren't you as good as so and so"; he knew the question would be "what did YOU do with what I gave you." Allow me to be a witness for the defense and say, he taught his children what was important, how to face life as it is and not as it should be, and to never allow the drive to get ahead to diminish our loyalty to God or to those he places in our lives.
My dad taught me many lessons, some were easy, most were difficult. Many he spoke of frequently, most his actions spoke most powerfully. Many were consciously listened to, most were subconsciously taken in and molded who I am. I write this to distill a few of those lessons.
Lesson 1: Who you are is determined by the sum of your choices. Dad never could have been called a racist, a homophobe, a sexist, or a elitist. He did not pretend to understand all there was about the human person, but he did know that their choices and free will actions showed the kind of person individuals were. We were never taught to be suspicious of a person because they were different than we were. WE were taught to differentiate the person from their failings. He would be disappointed when people made decisions solely based on one aspect of the person ( race, gender, etc) Dad did not believe in collecting antagonistic relationships. Life would present enough of them on its own, there was no need to seek them.
Lesson 2: Playing politics is never worth the rewards gained. Dad hated politics. He hated the duplicity. He hated the back-stabbing, manipulation, self-serving relationships, and deceit necessary to play politics well. I am not speaking of merely politics as in governance, but more to the point, office politics. Getting more money was never worth selling out his beliefs. He was there to do a job and do it to the best of his abilities. He believed in advancement by merit alone. If that meant he got passed over for a raise or a promotion, then so be it. Integrity mattered more than status. It would have been easy for him to sell out and use the excuse that he had a family to provide for. He didn't. If he got a promotion or raise he wanted to know it was because he had earned it. I always respected that about him.
Lesson 3: Sometimes the bad guy wins and how one deals with that says a lot about the individual. I never heard my dad say that life was unfair. He detested the concept of fair and unfair because it was always a subjective thing. Fair or unfair by whose standards? By what criteria? Sometimes you could do everything right and still get screwed. Because you play by the rules does not mean your opponent will. Sometimes their deceit and machinations gave them the edge. Sometimes they won the job, the promotion, the raise, and so on. As dad found it more important to be able to look at himself in the mirror than be admired for something he wasn't. It meant that he got up, dusted himself off, and kept doing the right thing. Sometimes you lose. The true test of the person was whether the person could walk away with their integrity and dignity intact. It meant many harsh lessons. It meant giving up temporary advances and advantages. It meant not being afraid of failure.
Lesson 4: It is only stuff. Dad had great attachment to people and animals. He loved nature and was fascinated with the outdoors. People came before things. Always. Taking advantage of people to get more things made no sense to him, Despoiling the world to get more things made no sense to him. Things were not worth it. He didn't need copious amounts of stuff. He lived comfortably and simply. He could have lived much higher and simply chose not to. He wasn't cheap. But he didn't spend money for the sake of spending money. His taste were simple. He could go overboard, say, on vitamins and supplements. But for most all else, simplicity of life was what he desired.
Lesson 5: You'll not find nor create heaven on earth. Heaven was when we died, not now. Our task here was to be the best we could be. We were to use God's grace, be detached from material goods, be honest, friendly, and competent. We cannot change anyone else but ourselves and only hope that our way of life might attract others. Here, people would be dishonest, greedy, envious and power hungry and other people will suffer for it. Accidents happen, disasters happen, sickness happens, death happens. That is the nature of the material world. Fighting it was futile and maddening. It was we approached these disasters and disappointments that mattered. He stayed positive even when there seemed no reason to be so. He did not expect perfection here so it didn't throw him when he didn't get it.
Lesson 6: Faith matters. For dad, faith wasn't a set of beliefs treated like a family heirloom to be trotted out for special occasions; it was a daily lived experience. It was what drove him. I could go on and on about this but I think it suffices to say that if you read the other lessons, you can see how faith permeated all those lessons.
My dad was not a perfect man. He would correct me for saying otherwise. However, it is fair to say that he tried to be the best man he could be. That was all that could be asked. I assume, like myself, that when he stood before God, he wasn't asked "why weren't you as good as so and so"; he knew the question would be "what did YOU do with what I gave you." Allow me to be a witness for the defense and say, he taught his children what was important, how to face life as it is and not as it should be, and to never allow the drive to get ahead to diminish our loyalty to God or to those he places in our lives.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Death and faith...or lack thereof
In recent days, my dad passed away. I have said in a previous post, my Catholic Faith has given me great solace and comfort in its teaching that since Jesus Christ, borne out of His great love for, gave His life to redeem us, frees us from enslavement to sin and death so that when we approach that moment of death we can do so with eternal hope. My dad had this hope and desperately wanted his children to share in that hope. Because I choose to live the hope that my dad modeled for me and wanted in instill in me by having me baptized, I can approach this moment in time with intense calm and hope. I proudly live this hertiage my dad sought to pass down to his children.
Yesterday, one of my siblings friends, a person who self-describes herself as a liberal and atheist, posted on my sister's Facebook wall a few words of comfort from her perspective. I know she meant well in helping her friend deal with the loss of her dad, but I was struck by the hopelessness of those words and how they wanted to drag my sister into that same hopelessness, a hopelessness that my dad would have categorically disagreed with intensely and would have taken great offense that someone was using this opportunity to directly dismiss his own deep held faith with one of his children. Again, I do not want to say that this person had malicious intent. This person has her beliefs and in a free society she is entitled to express them. But as someone who struggled with agnosticism in my early 20's, I can hardly condemn her.
For me, finding my way back to faith was first more an act of logic than faith. It goes like this: it is physically impossible for something to come from nothing. All matter is regulated by the properties of time and space. Logically, only that which is not bound by these properties has the ability to bring them into being, and hence the created order into existence. It is called the ex nihilo argument for the existence of God. That the created order is so well ordered even in the seeming chaos points to an intelligent power bearing responsibility for that created order. It was for this reason that I could never intellectually accept atheism as a viable or logical reality. It is not logical. This left me at a Theist or agnostic state. That whatever created had any relationship with that creation was another question. That I struggled with. I had to reconcile the faith I had studied (that my dad had passed to me) with what I saw in this world. Why did tragedies happen? Why did good people suffer? Having been in the seminary, I saw a lot of activity from clerics that did not jibe with the teachings of the Church...if their knowledge couldn't provoke them to authentically live that faith, why should I then give any credence to that faith? It was their poor witness paired with me wanting to be unshackled by what seemed an empty morality that led me to be an agnostic for a few years.
A few years went by. Something ate at me about the worldview I was holding: It was awful convenient to hold what I was holding because it changed to locus of authority from outside myself to being myself. Morality, hence, was whatever I wanted it to be and I found I rarely challenged myself to be a better person. I knew I was supposed to be a good person. I was honest and diligent at work, I stepped into a supportive role for my siblings after my parents divorced, but I was slightly promiscuous, incredibly materialistic and not a happy person. I chain smoked. I was argumentative. I had a hair string temper. I had ulcers. I was comfortable in my agnosticism on one level, but felt a great abyss of emptiness inside that no money, power, or pleasure could sate. I remember one night sitting on my deck in Missouri and realizing that there would never be enough money, promotions, toys, sex, or other pleasures to fill what was lacking. Life became futile and meaningless in that absolutely everything that I was could be taken from me and at best all I could get was temporary relief. I fought returning to faith because it too had disappointed me. I refer to that next 6 months as the dark night. I remembered something from my seminary days, a quote from St Augustine: "our hearts are restless until they rest in you." My heart was most definitely restless and unfulfilled by the earthly trinkets that surrounded me. Then I started taking the next logical steps.
What made more sense: that this creator created with or without a reason or purpose? Logically, it made greater sense that there would be intent and hence reason and purpose. What made more sense: that the reasons would be malicious or beneficial? I remember my dad taking me on hikes when I was 4th grader in Indiana. He loved the outdoors and would point out while we were walking what kind of tree, plant, bird, animal, or rock I was looking at. He is responsible for my love of nature and the outdoors. I thought much later in life as to why we call natural disasters 'Acts of God', but we don't refer to newly blooming flower, the beauty of new life, the awesomeness of a mountain range, the splendor of a sunrise, the warmth of friendship, the sounds of a gentle rain, the smell of a spring meadow, the sound of a child's laugh, "acts of God' as well?
The earth was full of beauty both profound and simple and co-existed with the ugliness, suffering, and agonies of life. However because our bodies and the created order are limited to time and space, we grow old, we get sick, and our bodies cease to function. However, there was something in me that knew that there was more. That started me on the road of faith. I saw the profound difference it made in others and I wanted that for myself.
My dad had every reason to be a bitter man by worldly standards. He was snatched from his home by DFS as a pre-teen. He bounced from one horrific foster home to another till my grandparents adopted him. His 23 year marriage ended badly. He never got rich. He never got powerful. He had an incurable disease in Parkinsons that would eventually make his mind a prisoner of his body. I could go on and on about how many things he had to endure and the disappointments this life heaped on him, however, as I watched my dad in this last month, I saw a man of deep faith who was full of joy even as his body was turning against him. In that last month, I witnessed a man at peace with the world, with God, and with himself. As I sat by his bed with two very good friends and watched him take his last breath, I can not describe adequately the calm and peace of that moment. Everything inside me told me that all that my dad had hoped and desired in this life, he was now experiencing. I'll not allow any atheist to rob me or my family of that moment. I will not allow them to infuse their hopeless world view into this moment. This person can believe what she wants, but I choose not to share in such a maudlin worldview or allow my siblings to hear that view unchallenged.
Anyone who knows me well or has heard me preach knows that our Catholic preaches that we are to be a people who merciful, charitable, kind, forgiving, compassionate, faithful stewards of God's gifts, including the world in which we live, and faithful witnesses of Christ. When we fail to live to these standards, we give scandal and give ample fuel to those who would dismiss God and faith altogether. Dad knew this and grew more and more into this and wanted his children to know the fulfillment he felt. It troubled him that not all did. I know it troubled him when I didn't. I know he now prays for his children and grandchildren because he wants us to be with him...he modeled a path...if we are wise we will try to walk on it despite all life throws at us. I told my dad two things minutes before he passed from this life: I would take care of his dog for as long as Buddy lived and that I would watch out for my brothers and sisters. I asked him to intercede to help me do these things.
To my sister's friend: I know you meant well. You wanted to comfort my sister and I deeply appreciate that. However she is my dad's daughter first. Both you and I have made our decisions. Fair enough. I introduce a little philosophical nugget known as Pascal's Wager in reference to God. If you are right and I am wrong, I can live with that. I have spent the majority of my life inviting people to be selfless, to be merciful and forgiving, to be good stewards of our blessings, to help those in need, to respect the integrity and dignity of every human person..even though at times I can fail to live up fully to that. If you are rightI wont' be cognizant to realize it anyway and thus have no regrets. I have a joyful and fulfilled life even though I will never be wealthy, powerful, or indulge in certain pleasures. I have that same calm and peace my dad had and I see it as the most precious part of his inheritance and example for me and my siblings. However, if I am right, then I have lived a life that has told God my desire for heaven and union with Him and you have rejected him. All judgment amounts to is a verification of our own free choice. God condemns no one to hell, it is a personal choice each person makes. Truth be told, I would just as soon have you on my side. Yes there are things in the created order that bring sickness, suffering and death...but we were not created to just be here...here is transitory at best. If God has indeed given us a part that will transcend time and space (the soul), my ultimate hope and peace lies there. That is why when my dad whom I loved a great deal passed from this life, I had no sense of loss or any sense of overwhelming grief, ( I did cry profusely as I spoke my good-bye, my promise to carry on the heritage he wanted to pass on to me and my siblings and his grandchildren and ask for his help), the legacy of faith my dad left filled that moment with intense calm and peace.
At his funeral this coming week, it will be celebration of my dad and his deep felt and well justified faith in God. Dad suffered greatly and had his long Good Friday...now is the time to celebrate his share in Easter.
The closing song of my dad's funeral mass will proclaim his belief, my belief, and the belief of every faith filled Christian:
Yesterday, one of my siblings friends, a person who self-describes herself as a liberal and atheist, posted on my sister's Facebook wall a few words of comfort from her perspective. I know she meant well in helping her friend deal with the loss of her dad, but I was struck by the hopelessness of those words and how they wanted to drag my sister into that same hopelessness, a hopelessness that my dad would have categorically disagreed with intensely and would have taken great offense that someone was using this opportunity to directly dismiss his own deep held faith with one of his children. Again, I do not want to say that this person had malicious intent. This person has her beliefs and in a free society she is entitled to express them. But as someone who struggled with agnosticism in my early 20's, I can hardly condemn her.
For me, finding my way back to faith was first more an act of logic than faith. It goes like this: it is physically impossible for something to come from nothing. All matter is regulated by the properties of time and space. Logically, only that which is not bound by these properties has the ability to bring them into being, and hence the created order into existence. It is called the ex nihilo argument for the existence of God. That the created order is so well ordered even in the seeming chaos points to an intelligent power bearing responsibility for that created order. It was for this reason that I could never intellectually accept atheism as a viable or logical reality. It is not logical. This left me at a Theist or agnostic state. That whatever created had any relationship with that creation was another question. That I struggled with. I had to reconcile the faith I had studied (that my dad had passed to me) with what I saw in this world. Why did tragedies happen? Why did good people suffer? Having been in the seminary, I saw a lot of activity from clerics that did not jibe with the teachings of the Church...if their knowledge couldn't provoke them to authentically live that faith, why should I then give any credence to that faith? It was their poor witness paired with me wanting to be unshackled by what seemed an empty morality that led me to be an agnostic for a few years.
A few years went by. Something ate at me about the worldview I was holding: It was awful convenient to hold what I was holding because it changed to locus of authority from outside myself to being myself. Morality, hence, was whatever I wanted it to be and I found I rarely challenged myself to be a better person. I knew I was supposed to be a good person. I was honest and diligent at work, I stepped into a supportive role for my siblings after my parents divorced, but I was slightly promiscuous, incredibly materialistic and not a happy person. I chain smoked. I was argumentative. I had a hair string temper. I had ulcers. I was comfortable in my agnosticism on one level, but felt a great abyss of emptiness inside that no money, power, or pleasure could sate. I remember one night sitting on my deck in Missouri and realizing that there would never be enough money, promotions, toys, sex, or other pleasures to fill what was lacking. Life became futile and meaningless in that absolutely everything that I was could be taken from me and at best all I could get was temporary relief. I fought returning to faith because it too had disappointed me. I refer to that next 6 months as the dark night. I remembered something from my seminary days, a quote from St Augustine: "our hearts are restless until they rest in you." My heart was most definitely restless and unfulfilled by the earthly trinkets that surrounded me. Then I started taking the next logical steps.
What made more sense: that this creator created with or without a reason or purpose? Logically, it made greater sense that there would be intent and hence reason and purpose. What made more sense: that the reasons would be malicious or beneficial? I remember my dad taking me on hikes when I was 4th grader in Indiana. He loved the outdoors and would point out while we were walking what kind of tree, plant, bird, animal, or rock I was looking at. He is responsible for my love of nature and the outdoors. I thought much later in life as to why we call natural disasters 'Acts of God', but we don't refer to newly blooming flower, the beauty of new life, the awesomeness of a mountain range, the splendor of a sunrise, the warmth of friendship, the sounds of a gentle rain, the smell of a spring meadow, the sound of a child's laugh, "acts of God' as well?
The earth was full of beauty both profound and simple and co-existed with the ugliness, suffering, and agonies of life. However because our bodies and the created order are limited to time and space, we grow old, we get sick, and our bodies cease to function. However, there was something in me that knew that there was more. That started me on the road of faith. I saw the profound difference it made in others and I wanted that for myself.
My dad had every reason to be a bitter man by worldly standards. He was snatched from his home by DFS as a pre-teen. He bounced from one horrific foster home to another till my grandparents adopted him. His 23 year marriage ended badly. He never got rich. He never got powerful. He had an incurable disease in Parkinsons that would eventually make his mind a prisoner of his body. I could go on and on about how many things he had to endure and the disappointments this life heaped on him, however, as I watched my dad in this last month, I saw a man of deep faith who was full of joy even as his body was turning against him. In that last month, I witnessed a man at peace with the world, with God, and with himself. As I sat by his bed with two very good friends and watched him take his last breath, I can not describe adequately the calm and peace of that moment. Everything inside me told me that all that my dad had hoped and desired in this life, he was now experiencing. I'll not allow any atheist to rob me or my family of that moment. I will not allow them to infuse their hopeless world view into this moment. This person can believe what she wants, but I choose not to share in such a maudlin worldview or allow my siblings to hear that view unchallenged.
Anyone who knows me well or has heard me preach knows that our Catholic preaches that we are to be a people who merciful, charitable, kind, forgiving, compassionate, faithful stewards of God's gifts, including the world in which we live, and faithful witnesses of Christ. When we fail to live to these standards, we give scandal and give ample fuel to those who would dismiss God and faith altogether. Dad knew this and grew more and more into this and wanted his children to know the fulfillment he felt. It troubled him that not all did. I know it troubled him when I didn't. I know he now prays for his children and grandchildren because he wants us to be with him...he modeled a path...if we are wise we will try to walk on it despite all life throws at us. I told my dad two things minutes before he passed from this life: I would take care of his dog for as long as Buddy lived and that I would watch out for my brothers and sisters. I asked him to intercede to help me do these things.
To my sister's friend: I know you meant well. You wanted to comfort my sister and I deeply appreciate that. However she is my dad's daughter first. Both you and I have made our decisions. Fair enough. I introduce a little philosophical nugget known as Pascal's Wager in reference to God. If you are right and I am wrong, I can live with that. I have spent the majority of my life inviting people to be selfless, to be merciful and forgiving, to be good stewards of our blessings, to help those in need, to respect the integrity and dignity of every human person..even though at times I can fail to live up fully to that. If you are rightI wont' be cognizant to realize it anyway and thus have no regrets. I have a joyful and fulfilled life even though I will never be wealthy, powerful, or indulge in certain pleasures. I have that same calm and peace my dad had and I see it as the most precious part of his inheritance and example for me and my siblings. However, if I am right, then I have lived a life that has told God my desire for heaven and union with Him and you have rejected him. All judgment amounts to is a verification of our own free choice. God condemns no one to hell, it is a personal choice each person makes. Truth be told, I would just as soon have you on my side. Yes there are things in the created order that bring sickness, suffering and death...but we were not created to just be here...here is transitory at best. If God has indeed given us a part that will transcend time and space (the soul), my ultimate hope and peace lies there. That is why when my dad whom I loved a great deal passed from this life, I had no sense of loss or any sense of overwhelming grief, ( I did cry profusely as I spoke my good-bye, my promise to carry on the heritage he wanted to pass on to me and my siblings and his grandchildren and ask for his help), the legacy of faith my dad left filled that moment with intense calm and peace.
At his funeral this coming week, it will be celebration of my dad and his deep felt and well justified faith in God. Dad suffered greatly and had his long Good Friday...now is the time to celebrate his share in Easter.
The closing song of my dad's funeral mass will proclaim his belief, my belief, and the belief of every faith filled Christian:
Sing with all the saints in glory,
sing the resurrection son!
death and sorrow, earth's dark story
to former days belong!
All around the clouds are breaking
soon the storms of time shall cease.
In God's likeness we, awaking,
know the everlasting peace!
Friday, November 30, 2012
He is at peace...so I am at peace
Yesterday afternoon, my dad had a massive heart attack and passed away quietly and peacefully later that night. It was sudden. He had celebrated his 72nd birthday the day before and was in great spirits. Truth be told, he usually was anyway. In his final months, he had been severely hampered by Parkinsons. Despite the lack of ambulation, the falls, and even the difficulty in feeding himself, he was always pleasant. That disposition came from his profound faith. Even as he passed from this life, his faith led him. There was no drama, no complaining, and no fear. He died in peace. He desperately wanted to be united to God for eternity and last night he got that desire. He is at peace, so I am at peace.
As a man of faith myself, a faith modeled by my dad, I feel a calm. Dad was ready. Not because of any last minute panic about needing to get his affairs in order, but because he lived the gospel day in and day out. He proudly belonged to Christ. Christ tells us that those who are unashamed of Him before others, He will be unashamed of before the Father. He was not a perfect man and would correct me for saying otherwise. He didn't see himself as a finished product just coasting through this life waiting for his entitled award, but as a pilgrim needing God's grace as he awaited the Promised Land.
The effect it has on me it that such a witness makes me want to be a better person, a better man, a better priest, and a better follower of Christ. Tomorrow we start the season of Advent, a time in which we look ahead to the fulfillment of all desires and promises of was Christ says lays ahead for those who are ready. It is a truly blest moment to witness someone who was ready and was able to look to that moment with hope and not fear. We do not get time back. The games we play and the bets we hedge rob us of hope. I know Jesus Christ reigns and loves us. I have no doubt about that. I know that I need to be ready.
I want for each and everyone of you that same blessing I saw in my dad. The calm, the hope, the faith, and the powerful witness. Anyone who authentically lives the Christian faith finds that...dad did. May the same be for you and me.
As a man of faith myself, a faith modeled by my dad, I feel a calm. Dad was ready. Not because of any last minute panic about needing to get his affairs in order, but because he lived the gospel day in and day out. He proudly belonged to Christ. Christ tells us that those who are unashamed of Him before others, He will be unashamed of before the Father. He was not a perfect man and would correct me for saying otherwise. He didn't see himself as a finished product just coasting through this life waiting for his entitled award, but as a pilgrim needing God's grace as he awaited the Promised Land.
The effect it has on me it that such a witness makes me want to be a better person, a better man, a better priest, and a better follower of Christ. Tomorrow we start the season of Advent, a time in which we look ahead to the fulfillment of all desires and promises of was Christ says lays ahead for those who are ready. It is a truly blest moment to witness someone who was ready and was able to look to that moment with hope and not fear. We do not get time back. The games we play and the bets we hedge rob us of hope. I know Jesus Christ reigns and loves us. I have no doubt about that. I know that I need to be ready.
I want for each and everyone of you that same blessing I saw in my dad. The calm, the hope, the faith, and the powerful witness. Anyone who authentically lives the Christian faith finds that...dad did. May the same be for you and me.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Reversing roles...a new role for me
Recently, I have had a new element thrust it's way into my daily life. I would never consider it an intrusion or unwelcome element at all. My dad, whose health has been precarious as of late, has moved up to where I am stationed. This seems to be a long term deal. Right now, he is in the rectory and will be as we secure permanent housing and when I feel secure that he can live on his own. I will admit, that for the first few days I have felt a bit overwhelmed by this and carrying my normal schedule as a pastor and priest. I started praying about it and reflecting upon it and trying to avoid becoming a whiner about it. I know my dad deserves better and so does my parish.
I am blessed to come from a family where we take care of our own. My mom became a primary caretaker for both of her parents when they became old and started to grow weak and sick, even turning her dining room into my grandmother's bedroom in my grandmother's last days. My dad took early retirement from a job he loved and moved halfway across the country to take care of his parents when they grew sick and elderly. He took care of them for years. Both of my parents set wonderful examples and reminders that honoring your mother and father do not end when the child leaves the home. I consider it a privilege to continue the family tradition.
As I was starting to feel overwhelmed, it came to me in prayer that I am doing for my dad what he did for me as a child. My dad worked long hours, many at jobs he disliked, to provide for our family. He worked hard and every dime he had went to the family. I remember as a young boy noticing that dad's clothes were threadbare a lot. I didn't know what it meant. I noticed that he waited till the kids had food before he took his own. I didn't know what that meant either. I do now. He sacrificed for his family even if it meant denying himself in the process. Dad did for decades. Very rarely was it appreciated; in fact, more often than not, it was taken advantage of and presumed upon. Of course, I can now view this from the vantage point of an adult. From that same vantage point, I know I must show that same dedication that was shown to me. He did all that work and came home. He dealt with all the problems and joys of being a dad...running us to and fro...listening to our whining....watching out for us when we were sick.
I cannot imagine this is going to be easy. Where dad got to watch his work pay off in seeing his children grow, find careers, find spouses, have their own families, I will watch as dad starts the slow decline as he prepares for eternal life. That's okay. I am blessed with a position that will allow me to do this, with a parish that has already shown its support to me and my dad, an understanding bishop, a good network of friends to support me , and a God who I know will give whatever is necessary to live up to the challenge presented. I really do feel privileged as his son and as a priest to step into this role. Pray for me and my dad...and all my family as well...as we embark on this new course in our lives.
I am blessed to come from a family where we take care of our own. My mom became a primary caretaker for both of her parents when they became old and started to grow weak and sick, even turning her dining room into my grandmother's bedroom in my grandmother's last days. My dad took early retirement from a job he loved and moved halfway across the country to take care of his parents when they grew sick and elderly. He took care of them for years. Both of my parents set wonderful examples and reminders that honoring your mother and father do not end when the child leaves the home. I consider it a privilege to continue the family tradition.
As I was starting to feel overwhelmed, it came to me in prayer that I am doing for my dad what he did for me as a child. My dad worked long hours, many at jobs he disliked, to provide for our family. He worked hard and every dime he had went to the family. I remember as a young boy noticing that dad's clothes were threadbare a lot. I didn't know what it meant. I noticed that he waited till the kids had food before he took his own. I didn't know what that meant either. I do now. He sacrificed for his family even if it meant denying himself in the process. Dad did for decades. Very rarely was it appreciated; in fact, more often than not, it was taken advantage of and presumed upon. Of course, I can now view this from the vantage point of an adult. From that same vantage point, I know I must show that same dedication that was shown to me. He did all that work and came home. He dealt with all the problems and joys of being a dad...running us to and fro...listening to our whining....watching out for us when we were sick.
I cannot imagine this is going to be easy. Where dad got to watch his work pay off in seeing his children grow, find careers, find spouses, have their own families, I will watch as dad starts the slow decline as he prepares for eternal life. That's okay. I am blessed with a position that will allow me to do this, with a parish that has already shown its support to me and my dad, an understanding bishop, a good network of friends to support me , and a God who I know will give whatever is necessary to live up to the challenge presented. I really do feel privileged as his son and as a priest to step into this role. Pray for me and my dad...and all my family as well...as we embark on this new course in our lives.
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