The Mink

The Mink

The college freshman affirmed her autonomy.  “Carver made an incredible impact!  He’s a genius, compassionate, my mentor!”

Hands waiving the air as if sweeping her aside, Hami, her brother, winced in agony ridiculing her.  “You goin’ Iowa State ‘cause Carver goes there?  What idiot does that?”

“Carver?  He’s dead.”  Blushing, Mia grinned adeptly rolling her eyes over her brother’s left shoulder as not to offend him for his lack of knowledge.  “I chose botany and genetics.  I chose Iowa State because they’re great in both.”

“You dying to be dead.”  Hami teased mocking.  “His spirit talking to you?”

“I do read, Hami.”  Mia reached across the table to clutch his sleeve, trap his attention, but he moved quickly to avoid.  “You should try it sometime.”

“Hey guys,” a youthful café owner prompted as she cleaned the dining counter, “time to close shop.” She dried her hands on her festive apron.  Her smile welcomed payment for their meal. “On Christmas Eve, you got a better place to be than my diner.”

Christmas Fertilizer

Merry Christmas!  Today I write to you about manure.

What does manure have to do with Christmas?  To start with, Jesus was born in a stable, which isn’t exactly the most sterile of environments.  Despite the overly idealized versions of our current Nativity scenes, Jesus’ birth was certainly not a pleasantly aromatic experience.  However, I’ve touched on that already in the past.  Today I’d like to concentrate on a very interesting take I recently heard regarding the Parable of the Barren Fig Tree. 

Luke 13:6-9 (taken from usccb.org online bible):

And he told them this parable: “There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, ‘For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none.  Cut it down.  Why should it exhaust the soil?’

He said to him in reply, ‘Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.’”

We are all familiar with this story about how the gardener would add tender loving care to the fig tree for a year to try to revive it and nurture it along.  At least that was the thought that had gone through my head whenever I hear the parable.  I imagined the gardener kneeling down beside the tree and gingerly patting up dirt around its base with his bare hands.  I imagined him spreading fertilizer around the soil, and whenever I did, in my mind it somehow looked like the bleached white granules you pour out of a Miracle-Gro bag.  I’ll admit I probably even envisioned him wrapping his blanket around the trunk, and having the fig tree spring back to life, just like Linus did in “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” 

Exile

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel

These are familiar words this time of year.  As early as mid-November they can be heard on the radio, and they are sung numerous times at mass during this Advent season.  I've known them since my youth, but the meaning has come to light in a much deeper way as I have come to better understand what it means to be an Exile.

From the website "Online Etymology Dictionary" -

Several etymologies are possible. It might be a derivative of a verb *ex-sulere 'to take out' to the root *selh- 'to take', cf. consul and consulere; hence exsul 'the one who is taken out'. It might belong to amb-ulare < *-al- 'to walk', hence 'who walks out'. It might even belong to *helh-, the root of [Greek elauno] 'to drive': ex-ul 'who is driven out' ["Etymological Dictionary of Latin and the other Italic Languages"]

In my 51 years I have cultivated a home, with a wonderful wife and family, a job that provides for our sustenance plus, and a relationship with a loving God - so I will have to admit that I don't feel like one who has been 'taken or driven out of my home', like someone who is captive and in need of ransom.  I don't feel lonely (mostly), and mourning is not something I commonly experience.

So how does this song apply to me, and how can I be considered an exile?

Pulling back the Veil

So as many of you can attest, I am no biblical scholar.  I normally digest scripture in small palatable bites, like a Pinterest motivational poster.  I'm realizing that I miss out on some amazing stories when I don't actually "read" the Bible.  Recently I did some research after a reading in mass caught my attention.  I came across a podcast that helped me put all the pieces together, and I thought it was worth sharing.

The book of Daniel has a lot of great narratives. The Lion’s Den, the three men who survive the fiery furnace, the writing on the wall.  The book in a lot of ways serves as a template for our ancestors, as well as all of us today, to understand who Jesus was.

This book of the bible is referred to as apocalyptic literature.  Apocalyptic doesn’t necessarily point to the end of the world, but a pulling back of the veil. In Latin pulling back the “velum”.  Apocalyptic is about revealing something; showing a new world. 

The story I found so interesting was about King Nebuchadnezzar.  He had a dream that really disturbed him and he couldn't sleep until he found out what it meant.  None of his wise men or fortune tellers could decipher it so all of them were to be put to death.  Daniel, an Israelite from Judah was grouped in with these magicians to be executed.  He asked God to reveal the dream and its meaning in prayer so he could approach the king.  His prayer was granted.

The dream was of a statue made of a variety of substances.  The head was of gold, the breast and arms are of silver, it’s belly and thighs of brass, and  the feet of clay.  A stone that was cut from a mountainside and not by human hands was hurled at the statue, destroying it.  

Daniel immediately, confidently explained the meaning of the dream to Nebuchadnezzar.  The statue represented several different kingdoms that would follow one upon the other, until ultimately they would be replaced by a kingdom created by God - 'not made by human hands'. 

7^thchapter in the book of Daniel, this prophecy is reinforced with a dream that Daniel himself now has.  Four great beasts come out of the sea.  The first a lion, the second like a bear, the third a leopard and the fourth a terrible animal with ten horns and teeth like iron.  Weird dream.  Then the “Ancient Days” (God) took his thrown and thousands ministered to him. The four beasts had the power of dominion taken from them.  Then Daniel sees one, “Like the son of man”, coming on the clouds of heaven.  He arrives at the throne and is given dominion power and glory and all nations will serve him.

There is a reference again of four kingdoms that will succeed one another and a final kingdom, not of human origin that will come to be.  At the head of it will be a heavenly figure who is like the Son of Man.

These two dreams confirm one another. Something is being revealed here.

When will all of this take place?  Look at the 9^thChapter of the book of Daniel. This isn’t a dream, but a direct angelic revelation.  Daniel, like all pious Jews follow the teaching of Jeremiah, learned that the restoration of Jerusalem will happen after seventy years.   Keep in mind Israel was taken away by the Babylonians.  The most traumatic event in the history of Israel.  September 11^th times 1,000.  The temple was destroyed and the leadership taken off into exile.

Jeramiah said after 70 years the new kingdom would arrive.  Daniel like all of the Israelites are wondering, what gives?  Is God’s promise going to deliver?  It’s been way past 70 years.  

The angel Gabriel appears to Daniel.  Gabriel explains to Daniel that this means 70 weeks of years.  Keep in mind the ancient Israelites loved playing with numbers and number symbolism. So 70 X 7 is 490 years.  

Ok, what would a Jew whose been reading the book of Daniel be expecting?  They would be expecting four wicked kingdoms to rise and fall before a final kingdom would be ushered in.  Furthermore, they would be expecting this about 500 years after the Babylonian captivity which took place at around 500 B.C.  Imagine living in the first century.  They have seen four kingdoms emerge.  Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome.  They knew they were living around 500 years after the captivity.  Can you see why there was so much expectation for the Messiah at that time?

And then what happens?  Out of the hills of Galilee comes a prophet who is preaching of the Kingdom of God.  The Kingdom of God is arriving is a way to fulfil the prophecy in the book of Daniel.  

Finally, think of the words Jesus himself spoke to the Sanhedrin after he was arrested.  They ask, “Are you the messiah?”  Jesus answers, “I am.”  “And you will see the son of man coming on the clouds of heaven.”   He is directly citing Daniel chapter 7.  He is claiming that he himself is the human divine figure, that after the fall of the four kingdoms, would be given dominion.  

This is the great unveiling of a kingdom not made by human hands who succeeds a series of fallen kingdoms and has a dominion that lasts forever.  

The kingdom of the church is not a political organization or some club, it’s a kingdom not made by human hands.  Will it be opposed by the kingdoms of the world, you bet. Will it be triumphant.  Yes, the gates of hell will not prevail against it.

The mission of the church, from its beginning up to today is to continue to pull back the veil and reveal this great truth.

As we approach the Advent season, we too will wait for the Messiah to come.  May the season be filled with that anticipation as well as the faith that our divinely appointed church will withstand these turbulent times. 

Rearview Driving

Lately, I’ve been driving my spiritual life through my review mirrors.  I’m driving reckless, out of control (as if I ever was in control).  I check for blind spots, assess situations often, determine progress.  Ironically, I am hoping, expecting to hit something!  I’m anticipating a collision.  Over recent weeks, I’ve encountered several elements; my parents with failing health, teen assailants, drug dealers, oncologists, car-jackers, my beloved daughter preparing to leave for college.  I feel as if all are particles in a giant accelerator set to collide.  And what’s going to fly out?  I’m not entirely sure.  Funny thing is, I’ve seen this before, well not exactly, but some derivative there-of.  I’ve discovered God’s subtlety weaves throughout the exiting debris!

            Recent elements I’ve seen flying out of my life’s collisions; sea turtles, ALS martyrs (saints), opportunities, mended relationships, healing, derelict dads determined to change, girls who want guns off their neighborhood streets, young men becoming drug-free, gratitude, springtime.  These fragments may not necessarily be of essence to the reader, but they are for me.  Paradoxically, often to move forward in faith, I must look backward to find meaning and discover the Holy Spirit at work.   As I look forward, I take guidance and direction from the past.  This is probably why my concept of God working in time is relative, but the concept of history and future we share in common.  

Today and Tomorrow

I am getting old.  I was playing basketball a few weeks back, and someone threw me a pass that I was not expecting.  I raised my hands to block/catch the ball, and my left pointer finger was not in the right position when the ball made contact.  Instant pain followed by swelling and limited motion.  I could not straighten my finger at the last knuckle, not just due to the pain, but it just didn't move the way I was trying to get it to move.

Mallet fracture...6 weeks in a splint to keep the finger straight, must be worn 24/7 - in the shower, while sleeping, etc.  If I allow the knuckle to bend JUST ONCE the tendon will stretch where it was producing scar tissue, and I will have to start all over again...

And of course I'm left handed....

Two Years

October 26^th, 2016 will always be a somber day for so many of us.  It marks the two year anniversary of the passing of our beloved priest and friend Tim Bannes. Such an amazing out pouring of love and sentiment followed that day.  Looking back I’ve never seen a funeral where an entire community came together like that to pay tribute to a life well lived.

For the rest of us, life goes on.  It feels a bit strange at times.  There was a part of you that you cherished and is now gone.  You try to fill it with something else, but it’s not the same.  You are happy that your friend is at peace in a place far better than here, but the human part of us feels slighted.  Something was taken from us.  Why?

It is part of our human nature to connect with others.  Our spouse, our children, family and friends.  A bond starts to grow that brings joy and comfort to life.  But undoubtedly, those bonds will break. Children grow up, friends move out of town, and parents pass away.  Why does God let us fall in love, just to have our hearts broken?

I think the answer is for us to appreciate the present moments, all while realizing that everything on earth is fleeting.  If I really understood and accepted that the things around me are temporary, it wouldn’t be so painful to say goodbye.  Everything in this world has a season, and that’s ok. We enjoy it while it lasts, and have hope and trust that new relationships and adventure still lie in front of us.

I wonder if this might be one of the reasons the church continues to move priests from parish to parish.  Just when they start to build bonds of friendship and community, they rotate them away.  Why? Because the church continues to point us to one truth:  The only lasting permanent relationship you will ever have is with God - not with your favorite priest, your high school sweetheart, or your first born son. This is a hard teaching, since it is built into our very being to love.  It’s the one common desire we all share.  When we have it, our lives feel full of beauty and wonder.  When it’s taken from us, a cold darkness blankets our days.

So as I write this, I’m thinking back on my friend. The red leaves on the tree in my front yard are slowly one by one blowing off and into the wind.  It was only a few months ago that they were blooming green buds at the tips of the branches.  I miss him. But in the same way I’m happy for my children to move out of the house and start a life of their own, I’m happy for Tim.  The natural progressions in life comes with a mourning of what was, but with that comes the joy of what will be.  I accept that the lives around me are passing through, and I will enjoy them while they last, until that one day, when we are united in the one relationship that will never end.

"The 'Gospel' of Tolerance"

As I had prepared to contribute this week, we were approaching the feast day (Oct. 19) of the North American Martyrs. These missionaries were martyred for their faith ministering to Huron and Iroquois tribes in North America. I am rather fond of St. Isaac Jogues and chose to name my first son after this incredible servant. You can learn a bit more about these amazing men by watching this intriguing video by Chris Stefanick:

I have been struggling for several days putting my thoughts together in a coherent manner surrounding a topic that seems to permeate my mind from time to time; the topic of tolerance. For years, I've been inspired to read more about what our Catholic faith teaches about eternal love and our culture's growing tendency to push tolerance in spite of eternal consequences. Some of the things I've read may be too heady. Others too opinionated. What I read several months ago, I bookmarked and thought I'd pull it out again on a rainy day. Well, here's that rainy day. My own attempts at joining the ranks of writing on this topic fell short of my standards. I like what this author has already pieced together so rather than reinvent the wheel that ends up having 4 sides, let me just give credit to the original wheel.

This article below was published back in September of 2011 by Jennifer Hartline. She even borrowed much of her article from an earlier writer, Stacy Trasancos, mentioned in her piece. So, this is her take on "The 'Gospel' of Tolerance." While the original post focuses on a single sin to which we are encouraged to be more tolerant, personally I try not to hyper-focus. Let's consider all sins to which culture says we need to become more tolerant:

Simplify

“Over all these virtues put on love, which binds the rest together and makes them perfect.” Col. 3:14  Do I clothe myself with love over everything else, over whatever style is popular, over whatever way I may be seeking to define or distinguish myself?   

“Dad, you’re wearing one brown sock, one black?”  Does what I wear say something about me?  I’m colorblind. 

More shirts than dresser space, I set out to reduce and simplify.  How many shirts do I need?  Which do I consider donating?  Does what I wear signify who I am?  Am I too attached?

The first I pull: Komen Race for the Cure  Hope Strength Support Courage Community  

Words, reprinted in the languages of our international brothers and sisters, fill a pink heart.

My wife slept in this shirt following the most emotionally draining surgery in her life.

It was also the surgery that extended her life.  Tears give way to a smile.  I’m not big on pink, but my wife says I wear it well.  I keep it. 

I recalled wearing a suit on game days as a varsity athlete.  I stood taller, distinguished among my peers who did not compete.  When we traveled, hosts knew we were the guests, the athletes.  Coaches and teachers always reminded us we represented a larger group, our school, our community by our appearance.  Has my mindset changed? 

Former players quote from my favorite mantra I designed on a team shirt.  “Failure is not an option.”  Losing a game or loss in life is not failure as long as one performs and bounces back with the best of who they are.  A Texan filled the back side.  “We’ll fight ‘em until hell freezes over and then we’ll fight ‘em on the ice.” 

I keep the team memory and set the shirt aside for another to promote the mantra forward.

Am I willing to give away, sometimes to the point of discomfort?

keeping

HI life.  Celebrated 26 years of marriage while hiking with my family in Hawaii.  I’m HI on life!

Infinite # of math expressions splattered across fabric.  Creation’s mysteries coded in science.  I marvel in discoveries as they were, are now, and are yet to come.

Lone Wolf’s Midnight Howl.  ascend love paddle camp run ski swim live ride catch pedal climb walk board laugh see explore.  Color fading, but not my memory.  Ran beneath the stars.  I chewed dust as my 8 yr. old roadrunner cruised to victory in her first 5k!  She’s still running.  I’m still collecting memories.

giving away

Princeton Engineering. Gift from student.  Difficult to surrender.  We’ve become good friends.  I need to drop some pounds.  I once fit into this shirt.  Wore it in gratitude of teaching and friendship.  Perhaps, a dreamer will wear with a vision of possibilities.

Life is good.  Enjoy the ride.  Hoping someone will feel better along the journey.  I did.

Engineering w/o Borders.   Women in Engineering chocolate run.  Ran in support of former female students studying at Missouri Science & Technology.  How’d “chocolate” make their title?  I laugh in warmth and wonder.  They’re engineers now!

Forest Park XC Festival.  Sentimental favorite.  My daughter finished 2^nd during her freshman year.  Doesn’t fit well.  Someone will wear it better than I.

Run for Congo-women for women international.  This was the first of three annual events in which my daughter then in middle school helped organize a fundraiser.  She’s grown in courage, compassion, and generosity.  I never medal, but I did in this one.  The medals hang with our picture I’d framed.  I don’t need three shirts.

Hope Square Blitz Build.  Two 17-student crews, two homes completed in two weeks.  Lots of nay-sayers, one amazing music video, another to be a Habitat billboard, two ecstatic families!     

discard

Johns Hopkins Biomedical Engineering.  Gift from students; one a surgeon, another a neural researcher, both of immigrant parents.  Worn holes into it.  Retired it.

Can clothes send a powerful message?

keeping

Labor of Love-Micah Project.  My colleague coaxed me to run 5k to support a Honduran orphanage for boys.  She lovingly adopted a Honduran son!

Breakfast Club MS Walk.  Awful disabling disease.  Wear friend’s ugly design for fundraising once a year honoring another wonderful friend battling the disease. 

Hope for Haiti.  Locally supported Haitian mission school.  Reminds me of my sister’s medical mission.  Lots of dedicated folks.

Be Bold  Be Fearless  Be More.  Race for the Cure.  Historically, my daughter’s favorite run.  We’d been running in memory of good friends long before my wife, her mother began her enduring battle with cancer.  Both my girls are bolder, more fearless than I.  God provided more.

giving away

Never Alone when you walk with God.  Backpacker on shirt a lot like me.  I’ve worn it in the backcountry often.  Let someone else know they are never alone.

Can I shed the life I’ve had to enter a new one?

keeping

Macklind Mile.  Set personal record.  Let me know my aging body can still get up and move!

Sublette Lumber & Supply.  My brother-in-law’s yard.  Where I am from is important to me.

High Magnetic Field-epinephrine.  Crystalline structure printed on tie.  Child miracle drug used to treat severe allergic reactions.  Wore while teaching biochemistry class. 

Gave several ties away.  Not much of a tie guy.

giving away

KU Basketball-Rock Chalk Jayhawks!  Alumni.  Formed lifetime friends.  National title.  Badgered by sibling families 100% K-State.  Harassed by Tiger fans locally.  Need to be Rock-loyal to wear this one. 

Parkway South Robotics 10010011110.  “Donut Master”  Now I know why they keep me around.  Trip to World Championships memorable and best yet!

Operation Clean Stream.  Clean stream junkie.  Incredible graphics.  Littered with Missouri fish species.  Gave to a friend who’s crazy about fishing. 

God hijacked my task!  While I thought, I was simplifying, He seeded the entire time with recollections of sacramental moments!  I wear what is important to me, what I love; memories, blessings, values, convictions, gifts, support.  I engage in an active lifestyle glimpsing the kingdom Jesus describes.  In shedding some clothes, I am not giving away my old self, but freeing myself to embrace who I am in the present.    

What sacramental moments are hidden in your dresser or closet?

“Over all these virtues put on love . . .” Wear the love well.  It is what binds us all together! 

God Speaks on the Radio

God Speaks on the Radio

I’m certain God speaks to me.  I am also certain that I’m never quite sure exactly when He does.  Every time I think He is speaking to me, loud and clear, I begin to question whether I’m actually putting ideas into my own head.  How can I ever be certain?

I knew I was on schedule to write a blog post this week, so I kept my ears open to anything and everything God might be trying to tell me to write about.  After coming out of reconciliation recently, which arguably should be the time I am most predisposed to hear the Word of God, I started my car and Twisted Sister’s 1980’s rock anthem “We’re Not Gonna Take It” came blaring over the radio.  Hmm, what was God trying to tell me?  I wondered what secret faith-filled message was contained in Dee Snider’s familiar vocals.  There have been a number of former head-banging stars who have swapped party lifestyles for clean living and dedication to Christianity.  Could one of the most outrageous-looking hair-band leaders of the 80’s be one of those inspirational stories?

Maybe it was something else.  The popular song has been adopted as the inspirational anthem by school teachers, conservative politicians, and even Christian bands, with slightly modified lyrics in the latter instance.  On the other hand, there is a line in the song that says “We’ve got the right to choose it…”  Perhaps that was a dig at the Pro-Life position. 

Even though the lyrics are extremely tame by today’s standards, it was one of the major focuses in the 1985 federal hearings that brought about warning labels on music.  Those hearings were prompted by the Parents Music Resource Center, which was a committee spearheaded by Tipper Gore, among others.  Al Gore was one of the senators leading questioning.  Hmm, maybe I was supposed to be on the lookout against the Gores.  Maybe it had to do with censorship?  I have no idea what I was supposed to be getting out of all this. 

The next day I started my car and turned the radio to my next pre-set station.  Covenant Network Catholic Radio came on.  They were in the midst of a telethon to raise money for ongoing expenses and continued expansion of the network.  Because of Covenant Network, Catholic radio programming can be heard on stations across at least 5 states, and worldwide when listened online.

And so, I’m now absolutely certain…maybe 85 or 90%...that God spoke to me through Catholic radio, and wanted me to pass it along.  I can say with complete honesty, that Catholic radio has helped me to learn more about my faith and grow in my belief.  I encourage you to tune in.  I listen on AM 1460, but there are several FM & AM options that come in throughout different parts of the region.  Visit OurCatholicRadio.org to find out more info.  You can view a list of stations, listen online, or find out more about the history of Covenant Network.  I encourage you to click on the “About” section, where many of you will recognize a familiar face or two.

As we hear in 1 Thessalonians 5:21-22, paraphrased, be sure to check out everything, and grab on to what is good.  For me, Catholic radio has been a great blessing.  If you don’t already listen, I encourage you to check it out, and if you find it to be good, grab onto it.  If you listen this week, you’ll hear what’s left of the telethon.  The volunteers taking part in the telethon make for some interesting radio, and you may hear a familiar voice now and then, but I also encourage you to check out their normal programming schedule.  Throughout each day, there is something for everyone, no matter where you find yourself in your current faith journey. 

Oh…and also loosely referenced in Thessalonians, you can throw out the first few paragraphs about Twisted Sister.  Sometimes we have to dig through the noise to find something good worth holding onto.  Sometimes we just have to change the station.

www.OurCatholicRadio.org

written by: Matt Buehrig

Lead me not into temptation...

I remember when I suggested that this whole faith thing would be a lot easier if God could remove the temptation to sin in my life.  I heard a homily where the priest said, “Without battle, there cannot be victory.  So don’t pray for the battle to end.  It will never end.  Pray for the strength to do what is right in every situation, and thus enjoy the fruits of victory.”

So I guess it’s naive of me to hope that sin will somehow leave me alone. I should focus on what I do, not if, but when temptation comes.

I’m reminded of the story of Ulysses.  The sirens from the sea were these horrible monsters.  They would sing this beautiful song and entrance men to drive their boats into the rocks and eventually death.  Evil disguised as beauty, luring men to death.  Ok, this sounds like sin to me.  What is interesting is looking at three different approaches to dealing with this temptation.

1.  Avoidance – Ulysses had his men put beeswax in their ears so they couldn’t hear anything.  Boom, no siren song, no temptation, no death.  Seems like a pretty effective approach.
2.  Control – Ulysses was curious of the beauty, so he had his men strap him to the mast of the ship.  As he heard the sirens, he screamed and begged for his men to untie him so he could jump in the water.  Of course the men didn’t since they couldn’t hear him, and could clearly see the creatures over by those rocks were hideous and should be avoided. I understand Ulysses' game plan here.  He gets to experience the sensation of the act, even if it’s just a taste, without crossing the line.  This is an extremely dangerous way to handle temptation.  If an alcoholic asks to smell your drink, does that seem like a good idea?  You are still feeding the brokenness inside you, even if you use control to limit your response.  I never want to flirt with the illusion and seduction of sin.  That’s a recipe for trouble.
3. True beauty – So there is a third choice here.  Jason and the Argonauts were also on a ship passing these sirens. He was traveling with Orpheus. Orpheus was an incredible singer and musician.   When the sirens started their enticing call as the ship was passing by, what Jason did was had Orpheus sing.  He played as loud and beautifully as he could, filling the boat and the men’s ears with his music.  It overpowered the calls of the sirens.  True beauty flooded that boat so much that the illusion of beauty never had a chance.

Another example of this third approach happened in Antioch many years ago.  Bishop Nonnus of Edessa was speaking to a group of bishops outside the basilica. While he was talking, Pelagia passed by, a prostitute scantily dressed with jewels.  She was stunning.  Bishop Nonnus stopped speaking and watched her intently as she passed by.  He noticed the others had all turned away and hid their eyes.  “Brothers, were you not pleased at her beauty?”  Nonnus insisted that her appearance had delighted him, but still, he wept for her. He was saddened that she was being used for lust, rather than revealing the image and likeness of God.  When Pelagia saw how the bishop looked at her she was caught of guard.  No man had ever looked at her with such purity.  She later pointed to that simply act of purity as the beginning of her conversion to Christ.  She is now a recognized saint in the church.

Sometimes we are called to simply avoid temptation.  Sometimes we know ourselves well enough that we need to put limits and controls on our behavior to keep from falling.  But each of us also has the third choice.  To seek out and fill ourselves up with what we are longing for in the first place.  The truly beautiful and good.  The genuine article.  No imitations.  And when we successfully do that, the battle’s victory shall be ours.

The Comforts of Cultural Christianity

Happy St. Januarius day! Yes, you read that right. September 19 (and April 21) is the feast day of St. Januarius, a Saint we know little about. Legend states that he was thrown into an amphitheater full of bears who refused to mess with the incredible St. Januarius. So, instead he was beheaded and martyred for his faith. He chose a death in Christ rather than a life of comfort. Why this Saint’s day isn’t celebrated in January is beyond me.

Cultural Christianity sure has its comforts. The thoughts in my mind are being spun around the comforts of cultural Christianity and how many of my own experiences, situations, and events were lived out as a cultural Christian rather than one who was willing and ready to be challenged, criticized and made uncomfortable. I remember many times in my life where I heard others talk about my faith in a way that was grossly misleading and false. There have been times where my Faith, recently, has been attacked because of the failures of a few leaders in my Church. I know there have been times when I’ve chosen the comfort of silence in any situation rather than to speak up and suffer from ridicule or even the loss of friendships. I’d bet most of us can take a moment to think about pivotal moments we’ve chosen comfort over conflict. Or perhaps, we can spend a moment to pause and think of a time we chose to be challenged rather than seeking comfort?

“You are the Christ,” were words we recently heard at Mass. These words struck me like a clapper strikes a bowl. Peter was a man no different than you and me, reading this blog trying our best every day to follow Christ. We have our moments of denial, even two or three denials before we realize it. We have our moments of abandoning Christ at the cross to suffer for us while we seek comfort and safety. However, this specific moment in the Gospel, Peter caught a glimpse of true discipleship.

Discipleship 2,000 years ago had real dangers. To become a follower, one had to fulfill two conditions: give up all claims and be ready to die. Jesus meant releasing claims on conflicting personal relationships and be ready to undergo persecution. In other words, to become a Christian meant leaving one’s non-believing clan for the Christian community. Giving up family brought group ostracization and backlash, both on the family level and the neighborhood level. Depending upon the poor and lowly Christian community alone had its own dangers. Consider Acts 8:1-3:

¹Now Saul was consenting to his execution. Persecution of the Church. On that day, there broke out a severe persecution of the church in Jerusalem, and all were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles. ²Devout men buried Stephen and made a loud lament over him. ³Saul, meanwhile, was trying to destroy the church; entering house after house and dragging out men and women, he handed them over for imprisonment.

I walked out of church on Sunday realizing that living out my Christian faith should have its challenges. I looked at my children and wondered what I was teaching them with my actions. When have I been criticized for my virtue, prayer life or faith practices? I shouldn’t live an outward faith life seeking this criticism, but one that proclaims “You are the Christ!” How can you and I proclaim this realization that Peter had this week, in spite of the dangers?

What I realize, for sure, is that this endeavor in faith will never be finished until I draw my last breath. This first quote, attributed to Joseph Ratzinger, starts the summary, while the second quote from  Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger ends it:

“The world offers you comfort, but you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness!"

“Man was created for greatness—for God himself; he was created to be filled by God. But his heart is too small for the greatness to which it is destined. It must be stretched…”

Our Church Has Cancer

Earlier this summer my brother was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  Surgery was invasive and scary as you would expect when dealing with the brain.  Following surgery, the healing process has involved all different kinds of therapy, drug regimens, rehab, and will continue for some time.  A month after the initial surgery, a serious infection had developed.  They tried medications and IV treatments, but to no avail.  They had to make a quick decision to go back in, identify the infection, and cut it out.  There may be more, they may have gotten it all, or perhaps there will be a reoccurrence.  The final outcome is not known for certain.

When there is an elephant in the room, it’s usually best to acknowledge the beast.  There is no hiding the fact that our church has a disease.  There was a cancer inside at some of the highest levels.  It appeared to have come to the forefront with the scandal of a few years ago.  At that time the disease was apparently identified and treated.  There was more underlying infection, however.  After a while, it came to light and we are in the midst of treatment for the currently diagnosed problem.  Where will things go from here?  The outcome is not known for certain.

Before my brother’s diagnosis, there were clues that things weren’t right.  Occasional confusion.  Sometimes statements that didn’t make sense.  Aggression and denial when confronted about the issues.  Different family members disagreed about what to do.  Some were in denial about any problems.  Others pushed to explore the issue extensively until we could get to the bottom of it.  Even after diagnosis and surgery, there were disagreements about how open to be with others.  My brother would obviously take quite some time to recover.  In the meantime, he wouldn’t be able to do the things that we might expect as normal.

It is obvious that something has been awry in our church for quite some time.  Some of the explanations haven’t seemed to make sense.  Different levels of leadership have taken different approaches in their dealings with the problems.  Even now, with most of the issues apparently out in the open, it still seems like there isn’t a consensus, and potentially even an attempt to not be as open as possible.

As my brother begins his road to recovery, we wonder when he will ever be back to 100%.  When he returns to ‘normal’, what will that normal be?  Will he ever be as he was? We question how long the tumor may have been impacting his thinking, words, or actions.  Was his previous normal, not even as it should have been?  No matter how long it takes, or what the final results are, isn’t he still my family?  No matter if any of his negative words or actions during his illness were caused by the tumor, or were truly his own will, does that make him any less my brother?  It is often difficult to be around him at this point.  Right after surgery, after the tumor was cut out, his brain obviously experienced trauma.  The simple fact of going to visit him, being a loyal family member, and showing my support, set me up for difficult conversations, stress, and long hours.  I suppose I could have easily avoided it all by simply walking away.

I don’t know if we are in the stage of recovery yet, or still trying to identify and work through various infections, but our church is in a rough state.  We can look back in recent or past history and probably note some instances where we were hurt.  We can look at the facts now, and realize that the recovery is going to be a large burden on us, even though we had no involvement in causing the disease.  In the end, the church is still THE church.  It is still truth.  It is still our path to salvation.  The Eucharist is still the Body of Jesus even if the consecration is performed by sinful hands.  In fact, I will guarantee the sacrifice of the mass is presented by unworthy, sinful men.  Does that make Jesus any less real?  When we get through this will we ever go back to ‘normal’?  What is that normal and do we even want to go back?  All I know for sure is that things are going to be difficult for the faithful, but I’m not going anywhere.

Pray for the church, and if you have a chance, pray for my brother.

Written by: Matt Buehrig             Inspired by: Greg 

Wheat & Weeds

For God gave me sound knowledge of existing things, that I might know the organization of the universe and the force of the elements; the beginning and end and midpoint of times, the changes of the sun’s course and the variations of the seasons. Cycles of years, positions of the stars, natures of animals, tempers of wild beast, powers of the winds and thoughts of men, uses of plants and the virtues of roots—such as are hidden I learned, and such as are plain; for Wisdom, the artificer of all, taught me. (Wisdom 7:17-22)

Parable of the Weeds

Jesus proposed to them another parable: “The kingdom of God may be likened to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everyone was asleep, his enemy came and sowed weeds through his wheat, and then made off. When the crop began to mature and yield grain, the weeds made their appearance as well.

“The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’

“‘I see an enemy’s hand in this,’ he answered.

“The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’

“‘No,’ he replied, ‘because pull up the weeds and you might take the wheat along with them. Let both grow together until harvest; then at harvest time, I will order the harvesters: First collect the weeds and bundle them up to burn; then gather the wheat into my barn.’” (Mt 13: 24-30)

Recently, while sharing breakfast with three former students, one working on her graduate degree asked our small group what we thought of genetically engineering future generations?

“You mean designing kids?” another questioned, “Using CRISPR (Clustered Regularly Interspaced Short Palindromic Repeats) I assume?”

While they exchanged comments with one another, the parable of the weeds emerged from my fertile neural network. I’d always been steered to believe the wheat and weeds represented the ‘good’ and the ‘sinister.’ But at that moment, I thought of the field as my mind. (Lots of weeds growing there!) Thoughts of charity and forgiveness oppose those to ignore or withhold them. Theories, education, discoveries nourish wheat and weeds, the drafts of my reasoning. Acquisitions of new knowledge and understanding support growth both benevolent and detrimental. For example, humanity’s understanding of the atom led to applications in medical instrumentation and energy as well as nuclear weapons.

The human genome consists of 23 pairs of chromosomes. These are composed of six billion DNA base pairs, a complex recipe of biological identity. With the development of CRISPR, it is conceivable we could edit, manipulate, down to a specific base pair.

“Let’s design a kid with perfect vision, a body geared to be the fastest human alive, the strongest, bluest of eyes, head full of hair, great voice.” His excitement swelled as his list tapered.

The grad student continued adding, “Free of breast cancer, no Alzheimer’s, good blood pressure, no heart disease, free of ALS!”

Within our conversation, we unraveled the genetic entanglement to three topics targeting the ethical use of CRISPR. The first, defined somatic cell and germline cell editing. Somatic cell gene editing uses any cells in the body other than egg or sperm cells. Germline editing uses the reproductive cells. Any manipulations of the genomes of the somatic cells are not heritable, while those made to eggs and sperm would be passed down to future generations.

Consider cystic fibrosis caused by a mutation where just three of the base pairs responsible for the synthesis of the amino acid phenylalanine are missing. Without those pairs, individuals suffer from fibrosis and cysts in the pancreas and sticky mucous filling the lungs making breathing impossible in advanced stages. There is no known cure. Though presently not possible, researchers may find a way to correct those depletions thus curing CF. However, the patient might still bear children with CF if the children inherit their parents’ mutated genes because it was not the genome of the parents’ germ cells that was edited.

The second topic compared therapeutic and non-therapeutic gene editing. Therapeutic edits treat disease through delay of onset or in prevention. Non-therapeutic edits enhance or promote and individual’s traits for advantage or opportunity. Children may be designed to be more muscular, smarter, more attractive, faster, taller, giving them advantage over non-designed children.

The third spawns the greatest number of disagreements between secular and faith-based ethicists about the essence of human dignity. An MIT educated molecular biologist, priest, and professor of biology and theology, Fr. Nicanor Autstriaco, OP, distinguished the two points of view. “Secular ethicists tend to believe that human dignity is only extrinsic, and can therefore be diminished or lost through pain, suffering, or disability. If human dignity can be lost, it follows that we should be able to modify ourselves in ways that we believe would either advance or preserve our dignity. This conception of dignity is the ethical justification given by those who believe that we should be free to design our children so that our species becomes stronger, smarter, more attractive, and therefore more dignified.

“In contrast, faith-based ethicists believe that human beings have dignity that can never be diminished or lost. The Judeo-Christian tradition holds that humans have intrinsic dignity, based on the belief that we are made in the image and likeness of God. This dignity thus cannot be lost, from conception until death, no matter the apparent indignities a person suffers.”

“How would you feel if you found out you’d been designed by your parents?” I inquired of the others.

“I’d wonder if my parents loved me or the design.” She theorized, “What if my design created a child they had not considered? So many biological functions are polygenetic, individual traits or characteristics depend upon the interplay of many genes for a single function. Perhaps their modifications would interfere with other functions my parents had not considered or were not know to researchers at the time.”

The student sitting across from her added, “I have a hard-enough time living up to my parents’ expectations. If modifications were made, I’d never meet their expectations. Everything would be unreasonable. I’d never feel good about myself. I’d resent it.”

“Maybe I’d rather have been designed a premier athlete rather than a scholar!”

“Perhaps we could design you to where you’d never be aware,” she countered, laughing. “Or we could design both characteristics into you!”

“You’re allowing genetics too much influence,” he offered further, “without considering the influences of our environment triggering many interdependent genetic expressions.”

If Fr. Austriaco had joined our breakfast club, he’d comment the debate is not about CRISPR. “Rather, it is a debate over how we should understand ourselves and our relationships to others. Designing a child makes [the child’s] sense of self subject to the whims and fancies of another, and undermines [his/her] conviction that [he/she] is irreplaceably and individually unique, a gift to be cherished and loved by others.”

What would you like to add to the conversation? Our children, young people wrestle with these and many other complex new technologies. They’re inviting these conversations! How will they sort the wheat from the weeds?

Wisdom reminds us of God’s gifts of wonder, reason, and discovery. God created us to be far, far greater than the sum of our parts. May your harvest be fruitful!