The Limits of Action

"Everything is figureoutable." I almost crashed my car when I read this message on a sign outside of a local middle school last week. In this time of crisis, we are clamoring for a solution to the problem of a pandemic that has reshaped our daily lives. We find ourselves in an uncomfortable place. We are unable to stop the spread of an invisible enemy despite our technological advancements and modern scientific methods. These issues lead us to consider a compelling question: can we overcome all of our problems by relying on human action?

As husbands and fathers, we are hard-wired for action. There is no pickle jar that we can't open, no project that we won't tackle, and no challenge that can't be mastered by hard work and ingenuity. Perhaps no man embodied this vibrant spirit of masculinity as well as Theodore Roosevelt. Action, grit, and poise were a few of the characteristics that set Theodore Roosevelt apart from other men. He led men into battle during the Spanish-American War, mediated an end to the Russo-Japanese War, wrote thousands of literary works, and was known for his good humor and charm.

I often think of men like Theodore Roosevelt in times of crisis. I yearn to rise up and embrace challenges as he did; to wrestle with difficulty in the crucible of suffering and emerge triumphant from the fray. I find myself thinking that what we need in our world are more men who will rush headlong with confidence into the seemingly unwinnable battles. The world's problems can be overcome by the virtue of action.

What happens if by acting, by going out into the fray, we actually fall prey to the very enemy that we seek to subdue? Perhaps the most difficult part of this current pandemic is the fact that action is so often associated with death and ruin. Yet, as we distance ourselves from each other and remain in our homes, we watch as our economy crumbles. We seem to have two choices: go out into the world and risk death by infection or stay home and risk death by starvation. This juxtaposition leaves us confused and searching not only for a solution but for a reason why.

The meaning of this crisis is hotly debated. Some claim that the virus is mother nature taking out her anger against mankind in response to his abuse of her resources. Others are quick to point out that this is God's chastisement for the Church's public worship of the Pachamama idols during the Amazonian Synod. God has chastised His people before. He has visited wrath upon both His chosen people and their enemies alike.

Our modern sensibilities struggle to understand a supreme being who is all-loving and yet permits evil to happen. We are faced with a stark contrast: an all-loving God who both allows acts of destruction and even directly causes these horrible tragedies. The problem of evil is complex, one that can't be fully explained within these few paragraphs. One explanation of this problem is that God allows and sometimes causes destruction in the world in order to bring about a greater good.

We pride ourselves on self-sufficiency. We have gone so far as to establish ourselves as the ultimate judge of right and wrong. What's moral is what makes us feel good. Forget what some thousand-year old book has to say. The bible wasn't written in 2020. The authors failed to grasp the complexity of life in the modern world. Thoughts such as these are evidence that the sin of pride, the gravest of all sins, is rampant in our world today.

Is there a limit to the “progress” of our modern age? Surely our accomplishments will sustain us for our lives and for generations to come. Our actions can create positive change in the world. Much like Theodore Roosevelt, we can harness the virtue of action to create peace and order in the world. Yet, what we’re typically left with are mere externals, whitewashed tombs. Despite all of his accomplishments, Theodore Roosevelt struggled to find peace and fulfillment at the end of his life. Out of power and removed from the spotlight, Roosevelt encountered himself as an aging old man. His great feats were not enough to bring him peace and joy in his last days. The glint of his magnanimous personality began to tarnish with the patina of old age and irrelevance.

Our actions cannot bear the fruits of lasting joy and peace unless they are directed toward our ultimate end, union with God. It is through God, with God, and in God that we can expect to find fulfillment during our life and immeasurable bliss in the life to come. All paths that lead away from God lead to death. Yet, as an Easter people, we hope for new life. Suffering, agony, and toil will continue to assault us in this fallen world. Whether we find ourselves exhausted by human action or distressed by idleness, our Blessed Lord’s promise remains: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest”(1).

References

(1) Matthew 11:28

Be Not Afraid

It has been months since I’ve written.  When I saw I was not on the blog schedule during Lent, I was saddened.  Once this pandemic hit, I was upset I would not be sharing my thoughts.  As Easter approached and we all dealt with our new realities surrounding religious worship, I wished to write.  All of those thoughts were my own ego shining through.  My own idea that something I might write would be of value or importance greater than the revelations you were encountering already on your own.

Now that Easter has come, I am scheduled to write, and I am failing.  I cannot share words of encouragement, or joy, because those feelings do not exist within me at the moment.  I have written a dozen entries for this blog post, and deleted them all.  I had put onto paper the feelings that I do strongly have…anger, sadness, distress.  Perhaps many of you feel those as well.  If misery loves company, then perhaps those deleted writings could have helped you to feel less alone, and more connected.

Just as I have every year in recent memory, I spent Good Friday backpacking, and then sleeping in the woods alone that night.  This was one of very few traditions that I was able to continue this year.  Most of my other family customs and personal traditions surrounding Holy Week and Easter were denied this year, as they were for many of you.  In past years, I always ventured into the woods to escape the pace of society, to get away from work and email and phone calls.  I did it to disrupt my everyday normalcy and force something different…quiet…uncomfortable into my life in order to reflect on the importance of the season.  This year, my Good Friday retreat alone in the woods did not fulfill its purpose.  It was, in fact, the most “normal” day I had experienced in several weeks.  The rest of Lent had already been too different and uncomfortable.     

This lockdown of American, and worldwide, society has polarized the nation more than any political issue in memory.  As we are asked to abandon “normal” life, avoid activities that bring us joy, give up wealth, and surrender businesses built with blood and sweat over decades, spiritual activities are not immune.  The full and complete shutdown of the public celebration of the holy sacrifice of the mass in our Archdiocese, and most diocese throughout the country, is taking a toll on the spiritual lives of millions.  Risk vs. Reward is the cry heard often.  No matter your personal thoughts on all of this, opinions are strong and vary widely. 

These opinions do not divide along political party lines.  They do not reveal themselves as conservative or liberal.  They are not bound by country, or state, or city, or race, or religion.  Yet these varying opinions exist and they exist strongly.  Whenever the world opens back up, and society attempts a return to the new normal, we will go back to work…back to school…back to church…and back to our family dinner tables with people who may have taken a stand during the crisis, perhaps strongly opposed to our own.  You may pray for an extension and increase of quarantine orders, or you may pray for a complete, immediate, and total opening of society, or your own opinion may be even more extreme to one end, or somewhere more in the middle.  Regardless, how will we act towards others when we enter into the New Normal?

These are real and true problems.  These are real and true issues and beliefs held by intelligent, caring, moral individuals ON BOTH SIDES of the spectrum.  I myself hold very strong beliefs, and have seen, first hand, everything over the past few weeks from the death of a family member, to the destruction of a multi-generational business.  If I wrote this correctly, however, hopefully all were able to read this impartially, without noting a bias.  Hopefully I have been successful to this point.

Now to state my opinion.  This goes to something I hold as stronger than health and income and economy and even any life on this earth.  Let us look at the Risk vs. Reward decisions impacting our spiritual life, and ultimately, our immortal soul.  I applaud the creative efforts of our priests, pastors, and parishioners to minister to the flock at this difficult time.  The utilization of technology to provide viewing of Sunday masses, and to allow people to virtually “join” Stations of the Cross and rosary sessions, has been impressive.  The creative efforts taken to continue to provide the sacrament of reconciliation has been refreshing and appreciated.

I must be honest however.  My first viewing of mass online, on my family room TV, was unfulfilling.  My viewing of Easter Sunday mass was saddening.  Seeing incense being used during the mass, but not being able to smell, and have decades of memories flood back as it does every time, was depressing.  Not being able to partake in the full, personal, physical act of communion during mass is maddening.  I appreciate the positive statements of priests, the uplifting homilies, the writings of many who see this as a time to grow in their faith, and those who see an opportunity from God to appreciate all that we have.  I understand the miraculous gift that is “spiritual communion” whereas we unite ourselves in prayer to each other, to the church, to the priest at the moment of consecration, and to our risen Savior and Lord.  I, however, also know my own faults, my own doubts, and my own weaknesses.

The undeniable Source and Summit of our faith is the Eucharist.  It is the center of our Church’s life.  In memory of Jesus, as written in the gospels…according to the catechism…as carried out for millennia within the liturgical celebration, the holy sacrifice of the mass…to be partaken of…with faithful gathered together.  Within that context we are promised and assured that Jesus becomes one with us as we receive him.  I know that this is possible regardless of time and space because I have faith that, with God, ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE.  However, I am weak and I long for the Eucharist.  The Eucharist is the source of grace, because it is the Giver of grace Himself.

The spiritual shepherd of our diocese must take upon himself the decision to relieve or extend our obligation for Sunday mass, and we are blessed that we do not have the moral burden of making that decision for ourselves.  I ask for prayers for him, and for all bishops and church leaders, that the wisdom of the Holy Spirit guides their decisions.  I, personally, do hope that we are allowed to be joined together PHYSICALLY in the mass again SOONER rather than later.  My soul longs for this.  Even if the relief from our Sunday obligation is continued, which I imagine it must be for those most at risk, I personally want the option and the opportunity to partake for myself and for my family.

If the question is risk vs. reward, do I risk physical death for spiritual life?  That answer is undeniably YES.  But with that YES, I admit I am a hypocrite.  If I wasn’t, then my attendance would have been mandatory at daily mass prior to the pandemic.  It wasn’t.  I slept in.  I exercised.  I went to work early.  I did not take every opportunity to participate in mass when it was offered.  Now that it is taken away, however, I hunger for it all the more…I thirst.

I hope that creative solutions come soon which allow us options to join together physically in the sacrifice of the mass here on earth.  And for that matter I hope to soon see the Baptism of our Catechumens, and Confirmation for our 8^th graders.  If my teenage daughter and her co-workers can continue to provide the good people of our community with drive-thru frozen custard during these most troubling of times, I truly hope that access to receive the Eucharist cannot be denied much longer.  I do not say this with any disrespect, or assumption that one thing equals the other; I simply allow my frustration, my hope, and my desire, to be revealed here for all.

I noticed all throughout Lent that the readings repeated statements to “Be Not Afraid” and similar encouraging statements from Jesus and the apostles not to fear.  I encourage going back through the Sunday mass readings over the past two months, and reading them again for yourselves.  The Word of the Lord will certainly be of more comfort than anything I could ever write. 

Be not afraid.

Written By:  Matt Buehrig

The Light of Christ

“That which gives light must endure burning"

- Viktor Frankl

 Well here we are, mere hours away from walking the path of love and light with our Lord through His Paschal Triduum.  This time before Holy Week never feels right to me - I become keenly aware that the Lent I was so intent on keeping has slipped through my fingers, and I am ill-prepared to be our Lord's companion as He travels the bitter road from death to life.  I feel like Peter, James and John in the garden, being asked by my Lord - the one whom I have proclaimed "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." - to keep watch and pray, and yet I cannot do as I am asked, my sloth getting the better of me as I give into its mesmerizing power to create an attitude of indifference.

Maybe that's as it should be, the true purpose of those 40 days - for it brings into clear focus my inability to 'do it on my own', and highlights with ferocious clarity my utter slavery to the inner desires that dominate within my heart.

For you see, the overriding directive of those desires wants to proclaim my own self, to replace the light of Christ - that light which illumines truth and righteousness - with my own.  And God does not make it impossible to live that way - He (i.e. Love) requires and respects freedom to choose.  But freedom in choice does not equate to being free of the consequences of that choice once made.  I have to and will endure the burning that accompanies the light I choose to reflect.

And herein lies the extravagant beauty of the Easter celebration.  For if - IF - I will just allow it, Christ will shine His light through me, and as these next few days will attest to, He will endure the burning in my place.  That is God's love in a nutshell in its over-the-top, self-giving, non-self-interested God's-will-following aura that will endure all things IF we only allow it.

So I pray that this Triduum be a time of opening up to that light - as a seed buried deep within the earth grows out of that darkness to become a breathe-taking spring flower opening to absorb the sunshine and reflect its light for all eyes to see.
 

Isolated Connection

Ben:  “God, I feel really busy.  I have so many responsibilities and my work is so demanding.  So many people rely on me and I don’t want to let them down.  I just wish things were simpler, you know?”

God:  “I understand how that can be exhausting.  Tell me, what are some of the things you’d do if you had this ‘simpler life’?”

Ben:  Well there are a lot of things I’d change, or do…

Go about my day without being rushed.
Not have somewhere I’m late for all the time.
Stay at home more with nothing planned.
Truly appreciate going to mass and receiving the eucharist.
Do a puzzle.
Make dinner for my family from scratch.
Read a book.
Pray more.
Really listen when someone is talking to me rather than think about what else I’m needing to do.
Have a glass a wine with my mom, just the two of us.
Learn a new dance with my daughter.
Play swords with my grandson.
Hang out with my neighbors at the end of the cul-de-sac like when we first moved here 20 years ago.
Realize how precious and fragile life is, and not take the time I have left on earth for granted.

God:  Let me see what I can do.

For the first time in my life, I feel connected to the 8 billion people of this world, and it took me being forced into isolation to do it.  I’m not ignorant of the very real fear for our health, our finances, and our freedoms that this pandemic has caused.  Jacob Maret did a beautiful job last week outlining the seriousness of what we are facing.  However often during tough times, there is a fruit that can come from it:

• Quarantined people in Wuhan can hear birds outside their windows for the first time since there is no noise pollution.
• The smog over China has cleared.
• The water in Venice are so clear you can see fish, and the first dolphin in 60 years was spotted swimming in the city canals.
• Italians are singing to each other from their balconies.
• A fitness trainer in Spain ran a roof top class with people participating from their balconies.
• A couple at Irma’s in Houston and left a $9,400 tip for the entire staff to help them eat over the next few weeks.
• Whataburger delivered food to exhausted HEB grocery employees.
• I see Dad’s jogging with their kids and a pick-up game of shirts vs skins basketball (no defense for 6ft distancing) on a neighborhood hoop.

No one understands the redemptive qualities of suffering like those of the Catholic faith.  Regardless of how bad things might seem, there is a greater good there if you look for it.

Stay safe my brothers.  Looking forward to spending time with you when all of this is over.