A Total Failure

I read a story the other day about a guy named John Pierpont who died in 1866.  He finally died as a lowly office clerk with the government in D.C. with a long string of personal defeats finally breaking his heart.

He started strong, graduating from Yale (which his grandfather founded).  He decided he wanted to go into education.  As it turns out, he was a failure as a teacher.  He was too easy on his students.

So he got a law degree to become a lawyer.   He was too generous with his clients and never pursued those cases that brought good fees.

He then decided to be a dry merchant.  He failed at that too.  He kept giving credit to customers and not charging enough for his goods to make a profit.

During this time he took up poetry.  He was actually published a few times but never collected many royalties, so he considered himself a failure as a poet.

And so he decided to become a minister, went to Harvard Divinity School and was ordained a minister of the Hollis Street Church in Boston.   But he became a bit too vocal about prohibition against slavery which upset some of his congregation.  He was forced to resign.  He was a failure as a minister.

So John decided to get into politics.  He was nominated as the Abolition Party candidate for governor.  He lost.  He then ran for congress with the Free Soil Party.  He lost again.  He was a failure as a politician.

The Civil War came along and he volunteered as a chaplain.  At 76, he couldn't keep up so after two weeks he was forced to quit.  He couldn't even make it as a chaplain.

He finished out the last five years of his life as a menial file clerk with the Treasury Department.  He wasn't very good at that either.  His heart wasn't into it.

John Pierpont died a failure.  He accomplished nothing he set out to do or be.  On a small memorial stone over his grave the words read:  POET PREACHER PHILOSOPHER PHILANTHRIPIST.

Like most of our lives, it takes perspective to see the purpose in our suffering, or to see success in what felt like a life of failure.  John's commitments to social justice, his active engagement of the great issues of his time, and his desire to serve were all marks of a life well lived.  Looking back, education was reformed, legal processes were improved, credit laws were changed, and slavery was abolished.  And John, in a small way, was involved in all of it.  God used him, and his failures for his purposes.

Every year in December, all of us celebrate John's success.  We carry in our hearts and minds a life long memorial to him.  It's a song.  Not about Santa Claus or angels.  It's a simple song about the joy of whizzing through the cold dark winter's gloom in a sleigh pulled by a horse, with friends laughing all the way.

John Pierpont wrote Jingle Bells.

"To write a song that stands for the simplest of joys, to write a song that three or four hundred million people around the world know, a song about something they've never done, but can imagine, a song that every one of us large and small can hoot out the moment the cord is struck on the piano, and the cord is struck in our spirit, well that's not failure!  One snowy afternoon in a deep winter, John Pierpont penned the words as a small gift to his family and friends and congregation and in doing so he left a permanent gift for Christmas, the best kind, not the one under the tree, but the invisible, invincible one of joy."

Who knows what fingerprint you are leaving on this world of ours?  Some of us might at times see our lives as insignificant, or maybe that we are failures.  Don't lose faith.  God has an elaborate orchestra of which you are playing a part.  If you make sure you are "in tune" with His will, in time, you will hear the song.

Rhythm

Who are you waiting for?

“Despite gun-toting armies and companies raping the environment - children are born into our torn and twisted world everyday, … and each one brings the renewed message that God has not lost faith in mankind.” - Johann Christoph Arnold, author and social advocate for children

As I’ve matured, I’ve grown to appreciate the Franciscans’ emphasis on the incarnation, God becoming human in the enfleshment of Jesus is a big deal, perhaps bigger than Easter. (St. Francis popularized Christmas.) C.S. Lewis expressed there would be no Easter without the incarnation. Unfortunately, with commercialism consuming the Christmas season we fail to ponder the significance of this event, our stories and God working through them.

I think too many folks begin their spiritual journey indoctrinated with ‘original sin,’ rather than beginning with ‘original blessing.’ In Genesis, “God created it, and it was good” is stated six times and concludes with “indeed it was very good.” This is when God launched the manifestation of himself in the first act of creation joining matter and spirit as one.

“The real light which gives light to every man was coming into the world.” - John 1:9

God materialized our universe from an unfathomable burst of Light 14 billion years ago in the Big Bang, an event that continues expanding beyond mankind’s imagination. Light is composed of two fields acting simultaneously, the magnetic field and the electric field; hence the essence of electromagnetic waves or light. The two fields are always in phase, in other words, like waves, they peak and trough in unison at identical instances. However, the two waves travel perpendicular to each other. Light ceases to exist if either field is removed.

Similarly, in creation, humanity is the union of the spiritual and the material. It’s our essence in nature. To separate one from the other fundamentally destroys what it is to be human. We live in a culture that favors separation encouraging dualism. I caution against this separation in our personal lives. Unfortunately, we encourage this separation when we downplay Jesus’ humanity and fixate on his divinity destroying his essence instead of … recognizing the synthesis Jesus lived and shared, … the same synthesis we’re invited to live and share.

In an unprecedented case 2000 years ago, God took human form, … a face, a body, a personality, a heart … in Jesus. Many people think God incarnated in Jesus was God’s plan to come and fix a messed up world … and that didn’t happen. Despite the divinity in creation, the world remained a mess when Jesus left this earth. Because of today’s messy world, many folks surrender their spiritual component of life for … you can name several substitutions, excuses, distractions! But for many others, we learned, God was not the punitive, sometimes petty God He was portrayed to be in the Old Testament. True God wants the best for us modeling simplicity, non-violence, forgiveness, healing, inclusivity, use of talents, love …. all qualities we are called to exercise.

Too one-dimensional as I see it, is that many see Jesus as only divine while they see themselves as only material. People develop the attitude, “Oh sure, Jesus could heal … because he was divine. We can’t do that.”

Ah, but we can! We are called to heal and much more!

“As you go, make this proclamation: ‘The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.” - Matthew 10: 7-8

If we can’t put the divine and physical together in Him, we can’t put it together in ourselves nor will we put it together in others. We are brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, children of the Kingdom of God, both divine and fleshy, a living paradox, just as Jesus was. We are gifts from Him and to one another. We are in the story, not outside it!

“Jesus is the standing icon of the entire spiritual journey from start to finish: divine conception, ordinary life, moments of enlightenment (such as Jesus’ baptism, Peter’s confession, and Jesus’ transfiguration), works of love and healing, rejection, death, resurrection, and ascension. That is not just Jesus; it is true for all of us.” Richard Rohr OFM author and Franciscan

The mystery of the Advent season is the paradox of matter and spirit as one! Francis taught others to imitate our Lord, to walk in His footsteps … to love … to act not to just worship His divinity. To realize the miraculous in the laws of nature, to find God at work in our lives and the lives of others, we must reflect on our stories. Consider a biographical sketch of your children’s births. Do you see common threads? Do you find extensions of the stories lived by our Lord? Advent is a time to ponder with excitement, engagement, anticipation as our young Mother Mary did in a manger. Cherish them in the quiet of your hearts, in the spirit of your families, and in the body of your communities.

The Nativity “pulls you inside of a universal story, and it lodges in the unconscious where it is not subject to the brutalities of your intellect or will. … the map of Jesus’ life is the map of Everyman and Everywoman: divine conception, ordinary life, betrayal, abandonment, rejection, crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. In the end, it all comes full circle, and we return where we started, but now transformed” - Thomas Merton OSB, author and Benedictine monk

Light looked down and saw darkness.

“I will go there,” said light.
Peace looked down and saw war.
“I will go there,” said peace.
Love looked down and saw hatred.
“I will go there,” said love.

So he,
the Lord of Light,
the Prince of Peace,
the King of Love,
came down and crept in beside us.

-Rev. John Bell, Iona Community

O come, O come, Emmanuel!

THE DAILY PRACTICE OF PRAYER

by Fred Vilbig

Everything in our spiritual life really needs to begin and end with prayer. That is one of the reasons why the articles I wrote this year have focused on prayer.

Prayer should be our loving response to the call of God Who is love. But we have to quiet ourselves and the world around us to hear that gentle, tiny whisper in our souls, which is God. Our prayer can be simple like the “Jesus Prayer.” We should try to understand and tune into the prayer, Jesus gave us, the “Our Father.” To grow closer to Jesus, we should pray the prayers that Jesus prayed, the Psalms. We should ask for help from His mother, Mary, and His friends, the Saints. We should make our prayer real through fasting and abstinence. And we should join in the greatest prayer we have, the Mass, as often as we can.

But how can we put this into daily practice?

The Power of Weakness

As I write this, I’m laid up in bed. Achilles surgery and shattered bone spur removal has left me immobile and on pretty serious pain medicine. The meds and laying around for a few weeks have caused my diverticulitis to act up and now I have an infection with a fever that produces crazy stressful dreams or total insomnia.

I thought this was going to be a simple outpatient snip. I guess the fever and migraines from the infection help me not notice the pain in my foot. I have never had surgery before. Heck, I’ve never had a broken bone or even a cavity. I’ve always just taken my body for granted. It just does what its supposed to do and I don’t really think about it. Yes, I’m noticing that I’m a bit more sore in the morning then when I was in my 20s and 30s, and I’ve had a flu or two, but I’ve never really been down and out like this. I can see how it can get depressing for people. You start to get frustrated and feel helpless. The simplest things are now the biggest events of the day.

However, in my moment of self pity, I realize a few important things. First, I can offer my suffering up. Our faith teaches us that someone else can receive grace from my struggles. As I pray for this, my agony doesn’t seem pointless. The sheer idea lifts my spirits and takes me another step toward recovery. I’ve also realized what great love and support I have around me with my family. I’ve always known that Lisa has a black belt in nurturing, but it’s been amazing to see my daughters join in. I watch as they bring me jello, or ice, or rub lotion on my feet, that they are not doing this out of obligation. They are doing it out of love. You can tell they enjoy it. I never really realized how trying to be the tough guy that didn’t need help from anyone, was prohibiting the experience of serving, and blocking the love those around me need to express.

I also realize that my big, important job isn’t that big or important. Closing another contract and hitting our sales targets don’t seem so important at 3am when you can't sleep and your head is throbbing. Oh, and things seem to run just fine without me standing in a panic watching over everything. God is offering me another lesson in faith. That I should put my heart into my work, but let Him worry about the outcome. Early this morning I heard the birds chirping outside. I'm usually not up at this hour, and I didn't know they sing in total darkness, before the sun rises. Before the sun rises. They don’t fly in a panic, calling a meeting with the other birds about what to do if the sun doesn’t come up today. They start their song, knowing that it will rise. They believe. I think of the small farming community that was suffering a long drought. They gathered in the church to pray for rain but only one kid brought an umbrella. That’s the kind of faith I need.

So I’m encouraged. I know that even if I’m not running around, taking care of all my worldly responsibilities, things will be ok. I don’t have to be a superhero at home or at work. Offer it up, let those you love help, and have faith that you are in His hands.

Relationships that bring Discomfort

"In the spiritual life, we can’t only have friends, people with common interests who don’t necessarily draw us closer to our authentic selves and God. Such relationships can be a great gift, an oasis of refreshment throughout life’s arduous journey, but we have to be wary of only these types of relationships. The type of relationships—or community—that can feed us and lure us closer to God is the type that isn’t afraid to challenge us, admonish us, lift an unwavering mirror up to our eyes to reveal our faults in fullness for the sake of helping us overcome them through grace. These are relationships that bring discomfort.

True community embodies the type of relationships that ask us to relinquish some of our aloneness and autonomy. Community invites us to delve into the messy life of human relationships that won’t always make us feel good, shattering the ego-crafted mirage that we know all too well when left to our own devices. I struggle mightily with this because I take solace in my excessive aloneness. I can be quite fond of this state of lukewarm limbo, enjoying the benefits of being with others, having certain friendships, but not submitting myself to the type of relationships that will force me to be accountable. I can do as I please. And I can rest securely in the knowledge that no one else is keeping tabs. Yet, in isolation, slowly and inconspicuously, I begin to lose sense of who I am."

 
 The words above are from an article entitled "Why We So Desperately Need Community" (which can be found here).  As you can probably glean from the quote, it highlights the part of our fallen nature that desires to be left alone and live on our own little islands.  It also presents God's response to this selfish desire, a call to community.

 Look - I do not enjoy sticky situations.  I do my best to avoid conflict.  I often finds ways to leave the room when I sense things are getting a little uncomfortable.  It's just easier to have my own opinions, clearly thought out and justified in my own mind, and hold them in silence.  I'm guessing that most of you reading this feel the same way. 

Yet, God is good.  He continues to pursue me.  He weasels his way into my thoughts and relationships and pushes me to lean into the discomfort - even convincing me at times to do crazy things like seek it out or instigate it!  And He puts people in my life that do the same thing to me.

I'm learning to be thankful for the relationships in my life that bring discomfort.  And so today I want to thank

  - the guys who sit at my PX90 table
  - my CRHP brothers
  - the couples in my TOOLS team
  - you who read these posts and question what is written
  - our Priests who ask questions of me in their homilies
  - my wife who often, in good will, questions my decisions
  - My children, who often ask my 'Why?'

These are the people who keep pushing me to be the man God created me to be.  It's through these relationships alone that I have grown and born fruit.

Who can you thank in your life for bringing you discomfort? 

an enduring thanksgiving …

Miracles are everyday occurrences, … 

                                                           recognizing them is not.

Years ago, while a seminarian in my only year of theology, one of my ministries was working with special needs kids in a town nestled on the fringes of the Appalachian hills.  Twice each week, I’d drive from St. Meinrad’s Seminary in south central Indiana to a small community school serving an area with a statistically high incidence of children with terminal conditions unfortunately linked to inner-family marriage.

      Ms. Cindy, a robust, jovial educator, introduced me to her rambunctious group as “Mr. Tim.”   Quickly, Ryan, a skinny seven year old wearing a converted bike helmet, staggered toward me ricocheting off a bookcase, colliding with chairs, and stomping through a tub of crayons.  I reached to steady him just as an annoying buzzer startled the little renegade to pause, gather his balance and continue into my open arms!

“I love you, Mr. Tim!” Smiling ear to ear, he steadied himself wobbling away.

THE MASS: OUR ULTIMATE PRAYER

by Fred Vilbig

The greatest prayer that we as Catholics ever pray is the Mass. The Second Vatican Council referred to the Mass as the “source and summit” of our faith. At the Last Supper, Our Lord said, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you….” (Luke 22:15.) He instructed us to “do this in memory of me.” (Luke 22:19.)

This tradition has continued unbroken since the time of Jesus. Paul talks about how he received the Eucharistic tradition from the Lord Himself. (1 Corinthians 11:23-26.) In about the year 155, St. Justin Martyr wrote his First Apology. It contains a simple but rather detailed description of the Mass that sounds basically like the Sacrament we celebrate today.

So the Mass is, and since the Last Supper has been, the center of our worship as Catholics. But it’s even more than that. In The Lamb’s Supper, Scott Hahn explains how St. John’s vision of heaven in the Book of Revelation is actually a Eucharistic feast. The vision occurs on the Lord’s Day. There is an altar. There is a Lamb (a symbol of Christ) that appears to have been slain. There are prayers offered. So according to the Book of Revelation, there is a Mass in heaven.

But what does that mean to you and me? God is the creator of everything around us: the birds, the trees, the stars, space itself, and even time. Since He created time, He is outside of time. He is not constrained by it.

Jesus, as God, is also not subject to time, per se. Yes, he became man, emptying Himself of His Divinity (Philippians 2:7), but in His Person, He was not and is not subject to time. For that reason, the Last Supper and the Crucifixion occurred both in time and outside of time.

On Calvary, Jesus sacrificed Himself for the salvation of the world. During His lifetime, He told us to follow Him. He told us that each day we must deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him. (Luke 9:23.) We are called to the Cross with Jesus. It is almost beyond belief, but Jesus wants us sacramentally to join Him on the Cross each and every day. And with Him, we are invited to offer our sacrifices to God the Father for the salvation of the world.

In receiving the Eucharist, we also become more like Jesus. We become more assimilated into the Body of Christ. There is an old saying that we are what we eat. By consuming the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, we become more like Him through the grace we receive.

So at Mass, we are truly, profoundly present at the Last Supper; we are present at the foot of the Cross; as members of the Body of Christ, we are on the Cross with Jesus; and we are in heaven.

So why should we go to Mass? At Mass, we become more like Jesus. That will be really important on the Day of Judgment. When God the Father looks at me, I’d rather Him see Jesus, and not so much me. Also, when we are at Mass, we are literally present at the central event of all creation: the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

So in the end, my question is not why should we go to Mass? Rather, it’s why would anyone want to miss Mass… ever?

Not all donations are tax deductible….

We’ve all see him. Outside of the baseball game, on the off ramp, outside of church. The beggar.

Our faith is clear on our responsibility to the poor. You remind yourself that the beggar could be Jesus in disguise, testing your compassion and generosity. But then there is that other voice. You tell yourself that person is either scamming, has a chemical dependency, or is crazy. Giving money isn’t helping him, it’s keeping him from learning how to fend for himself. If you want to give money, give it to a charity that can help those in need in a healthy, responsible way.

But somehow the debate resurfaces. Your children are watching you walk by someone with outstretched arms, in obvious need of help. It’s unsettling. What would God have us do? If I have two coats, one is mine and one belongs to the poor, but how do I give this coat to the right person, the right way?

I Dare you...

I dare yo to watch this video and not have some sort of emotional response to it (mine was the welling up of tears)...

What is it about this video that stirs emotion?  Why is it that watching other people decide to act with such genuine care, empathy and compassion draws the awe and beauty out of our hearts?  What exactly is that emotion bubbling to the top when we experience such beautiful expressions of human relationship?

sacraments …? Tune In

From our tiny mission, St. Alphonsus, settled on the dusty high plains of western Kansas, baptisms, though rare, were celebrated within the context of the Mass.  After Mass, potluck dinners served our entire 34 family mission.With the enormous size of parishes today, shortages of priests, and societal changes, the Catholic seven Sacraments don’t receive the extension they deserve.  These signs of sacred reality seem to have been encapsulated into brief celebrations rather than rooted in our daily processes of living.  As St. Augustine wrote, “there is nothing that cannot become a sacramental encounter.”  Ever one of the finest paradoxes, from God’s transcendence is God’s pervasive presence, God’s accessibility to us.  

Radio waves constantly pass through space loaded with information that remains hidden unless we tune into the correct frequency.  Like radio waves, the Sacred is interwoven into our life’s fabric.  We must tune in, be receptive.  The Sacred is not somewhere “out there,” but in our human experiences, a mystery, an action of God.  Do we ignore the sacraments with the small “s” as Kathy Coffey, an author and presenter refers?  These are the events, spaces, relationships, symbols through life that nourish our deepest hungers; quench our longing thirst for something more in relationship to Christ.  We all come in contact with them, but do we recognize them, allow them to penetrate us as the sacraments they are … and then do we seek them, nurture them in grace?  Initially these sacraments may occur in unexpected places.  If we cultivate them, I recommend with awareness, invested in the moment, we can ignite the small sacraments with expectation throughout life. 

Fasting

By Fred Vilbig

If you read the Old Testament, there was a lot of fasting going on. Moses fasted. (Ex. 34:28; Deut. 9:9-18.) David fasted. (2 Sam 12:1-23.) Elijah the prophet fasted. (1 Kings 19:4-8.) Queen Esther fasted. (Esth. 4:15-17.) Daniel fasted. (Dan. 10:1-3.)

Jesus Himself fasted. At the beginning of His ministry, after leaving the sheltered world of Nazareth and before going out to proclaim the Kingdom of God and confront the powers of hell, Jesus went to the desert to pray, but also to fast. (Matt. 4:1-11; Mark 1:12-13; Luke 4:1-4.) As I mentioned earlier (in talking about Jesus in prayer), Jesus as the Second Person of the Trinity did not need to pray or fast. However, when, he became man, he emptied Himself of his Divinity. (Phil. 2:7.) In that case, as fully human, before undertaking His ministry, He needed to fast and to set an example of fasting for us.

discard whatever proves troublesome

 

Our country was blessed with a visit from Pope Francis this past week, and much has been written about the man and his living interpretation of what it means to be Holy and live the Gospel.  No matter what your personal opinion of this man and his papacy might be, it is hard not to look at Pope Francis and see a certain Godly humility and compassion.  He personally challenges me to step away from ideological attitudes towards others and to engage people on an individual basis.  He tells me I will see God there.  I have no doubt I will...

In his address to our lawmakers in Congress, Francis made a point that has stuck in my head. 

A New Season - Men in Motion

                On December 30, a Tuesday, a day of vacation from work, I awoke at 6:05 AM.  Generally Tuesday’s are normal work days.  I’d rise earlier, drive to Bread Co., and meet some men slugging coffee, breaking a pastries, expanding a joke or two, and bridging their lives’ experiences with the coming Sunday’s reading, usually a gospel.  I’d capture a sliver of the conversation until 7:10 before darting to school to challenge and be challenged by a full spectrum of our up and coming professionals.  However, on this particular morning, buried in peace, quiet, and warmth, I hesitated to climb out of bed especially following a late holiday social the evening before.  Wouldn’t it be prudent to simply roll over and go back to sleep on this chilly December morn?  I laid there a bit longer and made the decision … (opportunity provided … the choice?) … to go.   Though late, I joined the conversation already in progress with four other gentlemen.

                Our exchanges seeded with various points of view give the greatest fruits.  Often, I take pause overcome with moments of wisdom to slow myself to reflect … each man’s experience incredibly essential.  I “need” these guys and their perspectives – no “one” ultimately correct including my own (though I like to think it is at times), but together they bring grace, fulfillment, unrest, joy, insight … fertile elements for growth.    

                God touches me through the lives, the actions of these men as I discover my faith.  Spiritual growth does not depend solely on me, but also rests on the individuals, in this case, these men, gifts of the Holy Spirit.  An opportunity offered.  One I acted upon.

We have been asked to have the faith of a child.  “Let the children come to me.  Do not hinder them.  The kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”  Matthew 19:13.  Yet, we forget, we are children! We are invited!

                “Come!” [opportunity] he said.  So Peter got out of the boat [action] and began to walk on the water, moving toward Jesus.  But when he perceived how strong the wind was, becoming frightened, he began to sink [PX-90 7:00 am start? too early, carry-over from late night before, Saturday full family agenda, folks think you’re crazy, don’t share the same ideas with you, buddies think it’s not cool, spouse thinks it’s not cool] and cried out, “Lord, save me!”  Jesus at once stretched out his hand and caught him.  “How little faith you have!” he exclaimed.  [Yet Peter had given up his career to follow Jesus.  How dare Jesus criticize his lack of faith?]  “Why did you falter?”  Once they had climbed into the boat, the wind died down.  [How had Peter grown?  What was this guy … Jesus … expecting?  This is insane.  Am I going to continue to follow this one-man show or go home?]  Matthew 14:29-32.

                When I consider 

Abraham, I think of a child letting go of something he knew and traveling in faith to a foreign land, a promised land into the arms of someone he trusted.  When I taught my daughter to walk, I’d steady her upon her own feet allowing her to balance and catching her as she fell.  As her tiny fingers clutched my thumbs, she’d giggle and waddle forward as I’d shuffle my feet beside her.  Eventually with independence, she’d start toward me, me out in front awaiting her.  She’d fall and I’d encourage her cutting our distance of separation.  She’d start again and fall again.  “You’re so close!  Come on!  Come to daddy!  You can do it!”  Clapping, I’d cheer.  Then suddenly, staggering, here she’d come, rolls of baby fat jiggling, drooling with excitement leaving me speechless as she cleared half a dozen steps.  Rolling her into my lap we’d tumble into laughter. 

                I didn’t walk beside her, I stood out in front of her stretching my arms to cut the distance between us keeping just enough ahead she had to continue to take steps toward me.  Had I been too far away, she’d never have taken the steps or tried for a short distance and quit.  But I wanted her to walk to move forward … to be in motion … and she did!  So it is with Christ!  So it was with Peter.

                Time introduces a new season, for us … the wee nippers on the awkward path of life … the children of God … to take steps forward toward the Father.  He is out in front, arms outstretched. 

                Like Abraham … like Peter … like your children in faith, we are invited to leave behind who we are for who we might become.  Spiritual journeys induce restlessness, a blessed restlessness that cannot be settled but shared in community.  Danish philosopher and theologian, Soren Kierkegaard added, “He who has settled down has ceased to be a believer, because a believer cannot sit still – a believer travels forward in faith.”  Otherwise, we remain immature in our faith. 

What’s it gonna be for you?  Some of the same old … or … a new season … man in motion?

Get out of your boat and walk the stormy seas.  Sure you’re gonna sink some, but men in motion and the Father will never let you drown!

PS.  For women who may be reading this, I apologize for the male bias as we move into an open invitation to men for the new season of PX-90 opening on Saturday Sept. 26^th in the upper cafeteria, 7:00 AM at Holy Infant.  However (and these do include women) if PX-90 is not for you, you may be interested in the upcoming Serve St. Louis (October 10^th), CHRP, and so many others I fail to mention here. 

Idol Worship?

By Fred Vilbig

When I was growing up, I often heard that Catholics “worship” the Saints. I didn’t think that was what we did, but I really didn’t know how to explain our relationship with the saints until I was much older.

Jesus told us that we should pray for one another (Matthew 18:19), even for our enemies (Matthew 5:44). Paul in his epistles talks about how he prayed for the various churches he had founded. Colossians 1:9. He also asked for prayers for himself. 1 Thessalonians 5:25; Romans 15:30; Colossians 4:3. Jesus told us that He would be present whenever two or more are gathered in prayer. Matthew 18:18-19.

Praying for one another is common in every Christian faith tradition. Many conversations begin and end with, “Please pray for me,” or “I’ll keep you in my prayers.” There’s a long tradition of praying for one another in Christianity.

Liberal Catholicism

Well that got your attention didn’t it? It seems lately that our church, known for it’s conservative values and resistance to change, is undergoing a revolution. Or is it?

Pope Francis has made no apologies for speaking directly and passionately about issues and mindsets that he believes are limiting the love and beauty of our faith. As most men in a position of authority, he is also taken out of context quite a bit. When my liberal, protestant extended family starts contacting me on my opinion of the Pope’s endorsement of gay marriage, abortion, and divorce, it creates a great opportunity for me to pause and look deeper into what the Pope is saying, what our church is teaching, and what we believe is moral truth.

A Little Thing, Yet Not So Small

In the car…again. Driving to the 6th event of the day. In a hurry cause we were late leaving the last event…my fault. Tailgating the car in front of me…it stops short at a yellowish light that I would have zoomed through. Hit the brakes…come to a jerking stop. Tension fills the car. A comment is given…snide in tone and intent. I snap back, intent the same. The sound of silence the rest of the trip…many words, none loving or of good will, tossed around in my mind though.

Later, thoughts of this experience bring remorse.

A little thing, yet not so small.

Mary

By Fred Vilbig

Growing up in Dallas surrounded by well-meaning evangelical Christians, I often heard the criticism that “you Catholics worship Mary.” I really had no response at the time. My parents were good Catholics. We went to Mass every Sunday as a family; my mother went to daily Mass when she could. But we didn’t pray the Rosary at home as a family or talk much about our faith, much less about Mary. As I grew up, I kind of left Mary to the side so as not to offend my Protestant friends.

Many years later, that changed. I was going through a particularly tough time with work, bills were mounting, and I was really desperate. I was driving home one night, and it occurred to me that I should pray a Rosary. I didn’t have one in the car, but I had 10 fingers. I really only vaguely remembered any of the mysteries, but that first night, I did the best I could. When I got home, I did some research and figured out how to pray the Rosary.

The Power in Heaven? Yeah, I did that….

So I had this crazy dream the other night. I’m at the French Quarter having a few beers with Saint Michael the Arch Angel. Yes, the French Quarter. Hey, you have your divine revelation your way, and I'll have mine. What started as just casual chit chat about the kids, work, and the Cardinals, led it’s way to some weightier subjects.

I guess it started off as a complaint of mine:

“You see Mike, I just have trouble understanding why God, Jesus, Mary, all the angels and saints, don’t just come down here and kick butt for us, and save us from all of this misery and brokenness.  Or better yet, why even allow evil to be in the world in the first place?  The horrible things that happen down here are incomprehensible.  What we are capable of doing to one another, it’s heart breaking.  What is the point of all of this?”

Fuzzy Lining

Anyone who has siblings can appreciate the little rivalries between those who share the same home growing up. During times of interaction with a rival sibling it seems to be vastly important to establish that you are right – doesn’t matter what your level of knowledge is on the subject being argued or where the real truth actually lies. There have been times where my children will assert their opinion as absolute truth in defense of their position, when in fact it later comes out that they did not really know for sure what the truth was. In our family this mode of argument has come to be known as “Fuzzy Lining,” and it is often used as a verb, as in “Kevin, are you fuzzy lining again?”

As I watch what is going on in our society today, I wonder if there is some fuzzy lining going on…

Out of reach…? Invite Him to have a seat beside you!

                As Christians, we believe Jesus is both human and divine at the same time, the Great Paradox. (Paradox Sept 2014 post)  If your thoughts are similar to mine, I place Jesus on the divine pedestal, the untouchable miracle worker, the savior, putting dimensions into which I cannot relate to His humanity.  I fail to put the human and the divine in Jesus together… and I fail to find it in myself.  Here in lies my problem; I distance Jesus beyond relational, inserted into a hierarchical model, He with the upper hand delivering to lowly me. We have a dysfunctional relationship.  We have more of an agreement to terms … terms I always fail to live up to and unfortunately His position elevates to be unapproachable.  If this configuration existed with my spouse or dear friends, our relationships would be unhealthy.  When I consider my friendships and those I love dearly in relationships, neither I nor those in relation have an upper hand.  We share without an element of power to create genuine, sincere bonds.  So … where does this leave my relationship with Jesus, the Great Paradox? 

The Bible and Prayer

by Fred Vilbig

When St. Augustine was in Milan at the time of his conversion, he heard someone say, “Tolle, lege,” or in English, “Take, read.” He went to his room, opened his Bible, and read, “It is the hour for you to awake from sleep …. [P]ut on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.” Rom. 13:14-15. And he never turned back.

Early in his ministry, St. Francis asked a priest to randomly open the Gospels three times and read the first verses that he saw. They were Matthew 19:21, Luke 9:3, and Matthew 16:24, basically telling him to sell what he had, give everything to the poor, and follow Jesus. And that’s what he did … for the rest of his life.

Many saints have had similar experiences where God has spoken to them through the Bible.

Sea Change

by Fred Vilbig

I feel compelled to write an article about the Supreme Court’s recent decision on same-sex “marriage”, Obergefell v. Hodges.

It is not because I believe the decision was profoundly wrong for moral reasons, which I will assert to anyone. The Court has made and will continue to make bad decisions. See, Dred Scott v. Sandford.

It is not because the opinion (which I’ve admittedly only read once very quickly) reads more like a college sociology paper than a legal opinion. Legal opinions start by analyzing prior law and reach a conclusion. College sociology papers start with a stated position, and then seek to justify it. The Supreme Court’s opinion reads a lot like the latter.

Rather, I feel compelled to write about the decision’s basic holding and the threat it poses to faithful Catholics and other faithful Christians. What the Court holds is that people of the same sex have a constitutional right to marry. The reverse of this statement is that it is unconstitutional to deny a person the right to marry someone of the same sex. This a sea change.

a footnote ...

                                      

   "You’ve never had my fried chicken,” my excited great-aunt Mary proclaimed.  “See you. Sunday. You’ll taste the best fried chicken in town!”

     Our phone conversation concluded.  Aunt Mary was wrong.  She did serve the best fried chicken in town.  However, she’d forgotten she’d hosted me the previous Sunday for her chicken dinner.  Little did I know as a seventeen year old, new to Salina, Kansas, alone working the summer before college for the State grain inspection department that Aunt Mary showed signs of Alzheimer’s or dementia beginning. 

     The disease progressed as my graduate years emerged from undergraduate work to cancer research at KU Med.  As I passed through Salina, I’d stop to visit Mary as often as I could.  Months often lapsed between my visits to her Senior Living Center.  Mary struggled to recognize me.  I could understand how she might not recall me because I was not part of her long term memory having only grown to know her that summer before entering college.  She lived in a simple grandma house with a postage stamp yard.  Widowed for many years, she always gave to me so generously with several Sunday meals.  Despite her disease, I was determined to communicate with her in some meaningful way even if she could not recognize me.

     I convinced a retiring KU professor to allow me to enroll in a graduate “Psychology of the Aging” class though I had completed no prerequisites for it nor did it have anything to do with my biochemistry research.   I enjoyed the class discovering, by far, the vast majority of seniors live productive, independent lives … but what about my Aunt Mary?  During one particular class pertaining to dementia, clinicians discussed various effective techniques such as music therapy, games, crafts, etc. used to steer clients away from episodes in which they described communicating through dreams or in silence with a dead spouse, friends, children, siblings, a foe or two and even God.  An “*” appeared referencing a footnote at the bottom of the page in our authoritative text.  Though quite common in this aging population, it was recommended that diversion using the techniques above be attempted for the benefit of the individual.  Whose benefit?  Mine, the therapist or Aunt Mary’s?  What if the experience commands more than a footnote, certainly not a diversion?

     I expected more on this topic as I flipped wildly through the remaining pages.  Nothing … simply a footnote … and this situation was the entire reason I enrolled in this class.  So consuming, I set out to discover what I could about these “imaginings.”  I found little until I stumbled upon an insignificant paperback addressing birth and its similarities to later life.  Inspired, I worked through the night deriving parallels in a theory.    Morning arrived quickly.  Soaked in a torrential rain, I dashed to my professor’s office, 7:30 am, and begged to address the footnote from days earlier.  “I only need 10 minutes.”

     “It’s my last day.  I have critical material to squeeze in.  Several students have questions.”  He looked kindly upon my drenched frame.  “You’re not even a credible psych student.  It isn’t going to happen.”

     Discouraged in the early hour, I listened to my professor cram two hours of final material.  With fifteen minutes remaining, he paused abruptly.  “Normally I’d entertain questions at this time, but one of your classmates has brought some interesting material to my attention and I think it worthy to see.”  Without salutation, he humbly turned the small auditorium over to me.  On a chalkboard on wheels, I sketched the large graph below which I had adapted from the book I’d come across about birth and life after.

     Our lives do not follow the clean lines or curves I’ve shown in this graph.  For example, there are young lives lost far too soon.  (In fact, all dimensions of my life follow the yellow squiggles, anything, but straight.)However, most folks do experience lives on some average as shown.  From conception to birth, an infant develops to leave the comfort of mother’s shelter to life in a new world unknown to the infant.  As Aunt Mary aged, her independence, invincibility, control, physical health (and many more 'youthful' characteristics) diminished.  While at the same time,  her spirituality, relationship to the Lord, communicating in a unique way expanded … and … in her new relationship it became more personal, more difficult for me to understand or to participate other than to observe and to listen, perhaps similar to Peter’s, James' and John’s reactions at the transfiguration.  “Rabbi, how good it is for us to be here!   Mk 9:5.  One must surrender “control” or invincibility to enter the new relationship.  On many occasions, staff would mention Mary displayed a certain peace after I’d visit … and all I did was listen and ask the occasional question to foster our conversation.  Mary’s experience and many like her may be more significant than a footnote!

      For anyone who has lost, I found this poem to be beautiful.  Its words encouraged me to write this reflection.

My Beloved   by Heather Heath Reed, … best read slowly.

He had come home to die

in his own bed,

surrounded by his books and flowers,

his sweetheart by his side.

It was always understood

that she would die first,

it was non-negotiable, she’d said,

subject closed.

                Now, he was asking her to let him go,

                and she felt cheated and afraid.

                Watching the night sky fill with stars,

                he become the consoler,

                his work nearly done, hers just beginning.

                Bit by bit, he helped her remember

                their lifetime together,

                spirited soulmates,

                raising kids and traveling the world

                mostly with laughter, always with love.

With one last breath, he slipped away

while she slept beside him.

Later, she would awaken

to the scent of yellow roses.

What Did Jesus Pray?

by Fred Vilbig

I want to consider for a moment something that I think is very interesting: Jesus prayed. Jesus prayed throughout His ministry. He would get up early in the morning and go pray. (Mark 1:35, Luke 5:16.) Jesus prayed before major events such as the miracles of the loaves and the raising of the dead. (Mark 6:46, John 11:41-42.) He prayed all night before choosing the apostles. (Luke 6:12-13.) In addition, Jesus thought that prayer was so important that He took the time to teach his disciples how to pray, and He gave us the Our Father. The Evangelists thought this was important enough to mention in the Gospels.

But this also raises a question: what did Jesus pray? The only thing that the Gospels say is that Jesus went off alone to pray, but it doesn’t really tell us anything more. I am sure that he was in deep contemplative prayer being fully human. I don’t know how accessible that would be to us. But I think there is another possibility.

When Jesus was hanging on the Cross, he cried out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?” That troubled me for a long time. How could God the Father have forsaken His Son, Jesus, with whom he was united in his very substance? That made no sense to me. Our God is One and Three, but He is still One. How could the Son be separated from the Father?