Open Up and Say "Awe"

"Entrances to holiness are everywhere. The possibility of ascent is all the time. Even at unlikely times and through unlikely places."

- Bamidbar Rabba

Our little boy is captivated by absolutely everything. He is nine months old; his little eyes are brand new, his tiny ears are brand new, and his little soul is like a sponge absorbing EVERYTHING.

We watch in amazement as the little nuances of sunlight on a wall capture his attention, or the corners and colors of his toy blocks become like the facets of a diamond in his hands. The other day, he amused himself with a plastic cup for about 15 minutes, turning it over and over again in his fingers, crinkling it, bending it, chewing on it. It was hilarious too watch, and humbling at the same time. Humbling that something so ordinary could capture his attention for so long...

Our little boy is teaching us as parents, with our 30 something eyes and ears and hearts, to see everything as if fresh from the Hands of God. These are the days of living wonder for him... and for us.

THE BIG PICTURE

Catholics are back in "Ordinary Time," liturgically speaking, but beware... this is just when the most extraordinary things can happen. With the coming of the Holy Spirit, I think we're given the power to see things in their true light, finally.

Our boy is still dripping with the waters of Baptism; he can see. But with the gift of the Spirit, we too can "see." Finally, the veil of mediocrity, of ennui, of agenda, or mere utility (only seeing a thing as a thing for our use) is pulled away. The Spirit is our Divine Physician making a house call, inviting us to open up our mouths and say "awe." To be captivated again. Behold! The world is full of gratuitous beauty! Faces, places, colors, sounds take on all the freshness which they had for us when we were young and the world was new.

Further, we can with the gift of the Holy Spirit go into those places we once feared the most; the inner depths of our own hearts, those locked rooms, those shadowlands that we thought we're unapproachable by anyone, including ourselves, let alone God. Now, He whispers, let's "lower our nets for a catch." And He says, "Fear not," reminding us that we are truly called to be like little children, and that He Who Is Our Father will take us into those places by the Hand.

May God grant us "old heads" the grace to become little again. To rediscover everything, to see every object and every subject, every thing and every person as a gift from the Hands of the Father. From the ordinary and mundane to the extraordinary and sublime...

"To see the miraculous within the ordinary is the mark of highest wisdom." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Hooked

I'm sure we've all had movie moments that stick with us; scenes that combined character, catharsis, music and meaning into an unstoppable force that broke into our world and suddenly, lifted us up into theirs. Like modern parables, a great Truth was conveyed in a story and it bypassed our security systems. "Hey," we whisper to ourselves, "that's about me..."

I've been hooked on the above scene from Hook for years now. In the movie, Robin Williams plays a much older, stressed, and well dressed Peter Pan; a Peter Pan who has forgotten who he is and subsequently become a merger and acquisitions lawyer (crazy, I know). He's married to Wendy's granddaughter and now his kids have been captured by the infamous Captain Hook.

The scene above is Peter's great awakening. At first we find him utterly confused, ripped from the "real" world of comfort and security into a fantastic place of dreams and magic. But what does he do? How can he live? All is wild and blazingly bright in this world, so unlike the foggy gray and ease and comfort of the world he came from.

The Lost Boys (those perpetual and unsupervised 5th graders) cannot fathom that this is their fearless leader, trembling as he is with fear before them in his suit pants. What's a suit?

A line is drawn by the new leader of the Lost Boys, and Peter stands alone on the other side. Then, dramatically, one little boy crosses over the line, into his fear. He takes Peter by the hand, pulls him down to his level, and touches his face. Pushing and pulling at his cheeks, peering into his eyes, the Little Boy is searching for the truly Lost Boy, Peter Pan. Robin Williams in this scene, manipulated like silly putty in the hands of a Child, cannot help but smile. A light breaks through his weary eyes and suddenly the Child before him whispers "Oh there you are Peter!" The music swells, the Boys rush to Peter's side and all begin the process of rediscovery with him. Eventually, after a long training period, Peter learns again how to fly.

Inspirations, insights... how does this speak to me?

I am lost. I need to be found again. I need the Christ Child to take me by the hand and pull me down to His level, to that place of humility, of smallness. I need Him to touch me and to push aside the worry and the anxiety and the sin and the weakness. I need Him to cross over that line and believe in me. And if I let Him have His way with me, I will hear those words "There you are Billy!"

And by His Grace I will learn again just how to FLY!

Put THIS in Your Stimulus Package

I have a great idea for a Stimulus Package that will save us $800 billion dollars. Get this.... It's called the Love Your Neighbor and Quit Being Greedy Action Plan. Here's how it works: - In all of your decisions, don't make profit, expansion, progress, or power the end. Use them as a means to another end...

- and that end is, get this... people. Us. Men and women.

It's a crazy idea, I know, but I got to thinking that the most precious resource, the greatest asset, the golden fire that makes the world go 'round is actually NOT money. It's people and a passion for people - men and women and children, in all of their manifold appearances of poverty, sickness, oppression, beauty, talent, gifts and contributions.

So the fuel to drive this Stimulus Package, whose end would not be spending but the idea of giving for the revitalization of men and women and families who are the living stones that make up businesses, factories, and corporations, would be... Love. Yes, it's a little old school, a little archaic. But give it a whirl and you'll be amazed at how much a little of that love your neighbor stuff can carry you, and carry others.

Survey Says....

Yesterday's gospel reading from Matthew 16 contained one of my favorite dialogues in all of the New Testament. For me, it's like one of those "grasshopper" moments from Kung Fu. A great mystery is encountered, and questions like fingers fumble their way through the mind's knot. Possible answers start to unravel and shimmer on the surface of the soul, each inviting one to take hold of them. But which train of thought carries the precious cargo of the Truth? THE QUESTION: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” Jesus, the Master Teacher, leads them into the Mystery. He doesn't blast a trumpet, pass out literature, get a lush campaign going to get everybody to follow Him. He just lives... exists... each day, preaching and teaching and walking and breathing, being Who He Is in utter simplicity. And those miracles aren't like flashy fireworks you know. Read the gospels. They fall from His fingertips so nonchalantly. No airs, just His actions. Wasn't this all prophesied anyway? This is how Jesus begins His "campaign." Not very conventional, eh? And then He invites some feedback. The first Gallup poll. How incredible, how humble, how disarming is it that He wants to know what we think of Him? This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship! And He wants us to take a really good look at what He's saying and doing, He wants us to get to know Him so we can give an informed answer when it's time to vote. I know that for us today, the invitation still stands (it always has and always will, until the curtain falls in the western sky). Now all we have to do is sit down for a little while each day and read the gospels to illuminate our minds, to experience what He said and did ourselves (because He is still doing it). May we discover in this sincere quest for the truth what so many others have found... Simon Peter said in reply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Yes, Grasshopper, you have chosen... wisely!

Diary of a Former Atheist - Tonight's Radio Guest

Tonight on the Heart of Things Radio Show, I have the privilege of interviewing Jennifer from "Et Tu?" - You can listen live via internet radio here.

If you are a blogger or a reader of blogs in Catholic circles, you may have heard of this wonderful wife and mother who has been chronicling her journey from atheism into the Catholic Faith over the past two years. With humor and deep insight, she unpacks the journey into God and the deepening of the life of faith, facilitates lengthy discussion threads, and occasionally addresses the presence of scorpions in the life of her household. Tune in tonight at 5pm EST!


ABOUT JEN (taken from "Et Tu?")

I'm 31, married, and have three children ages three and under. I have a background as a web designer/developer but am now Director of Chaos Management for my household. I was an atheist my entire life until around age 26 -- I never once considered the possibility that God might exist, not even as a child. I saw no absolutely no proof for God's existence and couldn't imagine how a person could believe in an unseen deity. Around the time my first child was born I started to think that maybe I should take another look at the question of God. Upon investigation I was shocked -- really, really shocked -- to find that Christianity had some compelling data points in its favor. I came to a dry intellectual belief in God but didn't know what to do from there. To make a long story short, my husband and I both converted to Catholicism in 2007 and today I am thrilled beyond words to be a Christian.

____________________________________________
For more of Jen's posts and a general introduction, click here.

Automated Confessionals?

Here's a ridiculous and very funny video... and yes, I'm stalling. It's been so busy I need time for some real meat and potatoes posts! In the meantime, ponder the potential of... AUTOMATED CONFESSIONALS! "Confession heals, confession justifies, confession grants pardon of sin. All hope consists in confession. In confession there is a chance for mercy. Believe it firmly. Do not doubt, do not hesitate, never despair of the mercy of God. Hope and have confidence in confession." - St. Isidore of Seville "God gave Himself to you: give yourself to God." - Blessed Robert Southwell

God Sleeps in the Womb of the Earth

Yesterday Christ died. He said "It is finished," and He gave up His spirit. The great Lion of the Tribe of Judah, the Alpha and the Omega, the Morning Star was Himself extinguished by the Darkness.

So now we wait, and weep, and wonder. Has Death won? Is faith just a futile attempt to hold off the inevitable night, like a match lit for a brief moment, surrounded by impenetrable shadow, for a few seconds of illumination, until all is night? We wonder if there's more. We wait, we watch, like Mary by the tomb.

I see her sitting there, still stunned by the events of that Dark Friday, a whole cut into her heart, scraped clean. Open hands, cupped, lying on her lap, still breathing out the sweet smell of myrhh and oils from the Jewish burial custom. She stares blankly over the distance between the shade of an olive tree and the Roman guards moving about their watch, mumbling in a language she doesn't know. She is there keeping vigil, but she is not there. She is nowhere, she is no one. Her thoughts can only find rest on a few random phrases of His, like a bird alighting on swaying reeds.

"Destroy this temple.... And I will raise it up."
"Just as the seed falls to the earth and dies, so must the Son of Man...."
"I am the Resurrection and the Life..."

But then the winds of memory and sorrow and unspeakable torture blow through her mind again, and the bird of her heart must fly away, for this wind is too strong. After all, she saw His broken body, washed those wounds with His Mother. She saw the marks, the gaping hole in His chest. "It is finished," she whispers to the wind. And her tears drop into the dusty earth.

But Holy Saturday is a day pregnant with possibility....

"Just as the seed falls to the earth and dies, so must the Son of Man...."

Yesterday, Words that can remake the world were spoken, dropped from the mouth of Jesus like seeds full of paradoxical promise. They were spoken the night before as well, at a supper His heart longed to celebrate. These Words convey to the human heart the very secret of human life, the way to the truth of who we are and what we can become. These Words and only these Words, like a magic spell, can rebuild the shattered Dream of Eden, and create a Civilization of Life and Love. These Words have unspeakable power in them.

"This is My Body, given up for you.... Take and eat, take and drink."

To the barren fields of fallen man, the God-Man has given His body as grain. To the earth that has shared in our sorrow, drink. Where thorns and thistles grew now the seed in the blood of Jesus flows. In the dark womb of the earth, He lies broken, sleeps, and germinates, sending out the small, green shoots of promise...And with Mary, we watch and wait for Morning.

The Wound of Our Indifference

The other day a student of mine asked "What do you think would happen if Jesus came back today? Would people still follow him?" We had a little discussion about it, and this poem popped into my head. I first stumbled onto it through a tape I had of Bishop Fulton Sheen; he read it in the middle of a talk he was giving.

Indifference
by G. A. Studdert-Kennedy

When Jesus came to Golgotha,
They hanged Him on a tree,
They drove great nails through hands and feet,
And made a Calvary.
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns,
Red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days,
And human flesh was cheap.

When Jesus came to Birmingham
They simply passed Him by,
They never hurt a hair of Him,
They only let Him die;
For men have grown more tender,
And they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street,
And left Him in the rain.

Still Jesus cried, 'Forgive them,
For they know not what they do!
And still it rained the winter rain
That drenched Him through and through;
The crowd went home and left the streets
Without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall
And cried for Calvary.

What a profoundly sad reality it is that today we have become so indifferent. So blaise. So removed from "encounters" that could bring us life. "No thanks... I'm fine. I don't know... nuthin'.... I don't care... either way.... whatever."

Ugh...

There's a passage in Revelation (I think) where God mourns this luke-warmness... "Would that you were hot or cold...." We're like Cream of Wheat these days that has sat on a shelf just a few minutes too long. In the immortal words of John Cougar Mellencamp, it's "beige to beige.... that's all there is these days." The culture's practice of "safe s_x" (and how sad is it that I have to bleep that so it can bypass certain filters) has turned into a contraceptive life in general! Contracepted relationships and endeavors, across the boards we hold back and do not commit with all of the heart and blood and passion that makes us human. So Jesus longs for Calvary, where there was passion and blood and heart.... His Sacred Heart.

If we saw Him would we pass Him by? He is right beside you now, and down the street and in the house and on the train.

Faults and Flames and Forgiveness

I normally start my mornings at Malvern Prep with daily Mass (and I feel it when I don't). Typically, there are about six or seven of us, sometimes just three, with Fr. Baker offering up the Perfect Prayer. With such a small number of people, it's sometimes kind of "weird" giving the responses at Mass... you know what I mean?

Once in awhile you miss your cue, or a word is off, or your mind wanders and sometimes slips up without the blanket of hundreds of other voices covering over your own.

"...and also with you." (easy)

"... thanks be to God." (piece of cake)

"May the Lord accept this sacrifice at your hands, for the praise (glory?) and glory (praise?) of His Name, uh, for our good and ... for the good? of all His (the) Church... I think." (dang it)

One of the awkwardly beautiful parts of this daily Mass of sometimes just four souls (and all of Heaven of course, smiling at us in our awkwardness) is the Lamb of God sequence. I was contemplating it the other day. It was just before the Fire of Love descended from Heaven to consume our sins and set a flame like Prometheus in our hearts through the Eucharist, that me, Gary, and Fran said, three times...

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, grant us peace...

Three guys saying this three times in a big, mostly empty, chapel first thing in the morning. Sometimes it's muffled, sometimes robotic. But the other day it zapped me.

There's a scene from the movie Good Will Hunting where the therapist (Robin Williams) says something three times (and then keeps saying it) to the wounded soul of Will Hunting (Matt Damon). "It's not your fault," he whispers.

To this tough on the outside torn on the inside young man, abused as a youth, he speaks these words again and again:

It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.

And Will Hunting, at first, says simply "I know."

Then it gets awkward. The good doctor, himself a wounded healer, keeps saying it... It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. Resisting at first, then angry, Will finally collapses in his arms as the terrible weight of guilt and shame and rage and bitterness at the abuse he suffered as a child breaks over him like salty waves. It's a heart-breaking and beautiful scene.

Back to the Lamb of God...

Here, the tides have turned. Standing there in the chapel, we come to a realization that it is, in fact, our fault. It's because of me and my family tree that Love was crucified on a tree. And we need to own that fact. That's why every Mass starts off with the penitential rite. I have sinned! I messed up! Throughout my life I've added many a sour note to the symphony of God's original plan, and sometimes it's led many a fellow musician into discord and dissonance. So we take the time to look at this scribbled parchment and we turn it over to the Master Composer. And get this.... He rewrites it all.... using our notes (I love how He does that!). They are transformed, washed clean in the blood of the Lamb in a beautiful paradoxical spin cycle that can only be done by the Whirlwind of Love that is the Trinity. He takes away the sour notes of the world, the wounds and weeping and grants us peace. "By our very wounds we are healed," so the Talmud tells us.

It's unbelievable. I think that's why we need to say it three times.... he takes away our sins, and the sins of the world. He grants us peace. And we collapse into His Heart at the great and intimate encounter that is the Eucharist... and every morning we get to stand in that Flame of Love, to consume and be consumed, and all our faults and failings become the kindling for that Fire of Mercy.

Take a Hike

"Moses does not encounter the living God at the mall. He finds Him (or is found by Him) somewhere out in the deserts of Sinai, a long way from the comforts of Egypt... Where did the great prophet Elijah go to recover his strength? To the wild. As did John the Baptist, and his cousin, Jesus, Who is led by the Spirit into the wilderness."

- John Eldredge

I think our ancestors in the faith were natural hikers, minus the fleece caps, "sport-grip" water bottles, and Velcro bootstraps (I bet they would've loved Velcro though). They were simply in their element under a star-crowded sky. The smell of a wood fire, the rich, damp earth, the swell of the grapevine, the crush of grain between the fingertips, the smell of wool, thin air rocky climbs up craggy hills, sand and rock and the salt sea: all these were not extravagances for them. It was simply life. And everything became their teacher.

But when is the last time we walked on grass? Touched the cool bark of a tree, moved off of the beaten path, got our shoes muddy? We can move about an entire day from concrete to asphalt, linoleum to the plush carpets of our living rooms and never once touch the earth. In the words of one of my freshmen students, "What up wit 'dat?"

If the earth is a kind of sacrament (and it is), and every living thing both its own reality and a glimmer of a mystery in the Mind of God (and they are, from flowers to rivers, our bodies to the swirling galaxies) then this distance we create is a kind of blockade, isn't it? We are closing our hearts to the fruitfulness of that (lower case) sacramental life. God comes to greet us in the wild, in the desert, in the stillness of the morning and the dark blanket of the night, and we close the door in the middle of His "hello."

"Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come! For see, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone."

"Uh, but I'm not dressed for it. Actually, I'm kinda busy right now. I have... a meeting."

As Thoreau said, we need the tonic of wilderness. We need the desert desperately. We've grown soft like jelly and we've forgotten where we come from, and where we're going. We've settled into this world as the Hebrews did in Egypt, so that even when freedom calls, we prefer slavery. We need the same antidote to the poison of sin; detoxification, rehabilitation, the stripping away of superfluities. We need to take a hike.

Enter Lent...

OK, so we can't pack up and head to Sinai, or the Sahara, or the wilds of Northern Maine (dang it), but we can enter Lent. We can get up early and walk, pray, sit in the stillness as the morning pours liquid gold on the world and listen.... There is as much if not more of a wilderness in the hollow of our hearts that needs exploring, and we've crammed it full of busyness and noise and "responsibilities."

Lent is about finding our hearts again in that wilderness, and it's often only in the wilderness that we can find them. In the cold clear light, in the arid places, in the quiet stretch of the mind apart from the noise and haste of civilization. Lent is about being driven out of our comfortability, into the mud and briars and wild tangled vines and into the woods where the hermit thrush sings and mystery moves in shadow.

So let today be the first step into that desert... unplugged, stripped, silent, watchful. What mysteries will be revealed? What signs will we see? What superfluities will we let go of on this journey? And where will we find ourselves in 40 days?

That Miserable March for Life

We had a good trip down to D.C. this past Tuesday, January 22, for the 35th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade. Over one hundred teenagers came along from Malvern and the Villa, and they were so good. With a three hour drive and no stops, walking to and standing in a cold field near the Washington Monument for an hour, then finally creeping slowly through the streets of D.C. for another hour or two, and back on the bus for the journey home (no stops).... it's a lot to ask anyone. I didn't hear a single authentic complaint. I'm proud of those kids!

For many of my boys, this was their first time at the March. I was hoping for a little more organization (always hard to manage with so many people), and for us to make it all the way to the Supreme Court building, which has been the custom for Rebecca and I each year. But things got a little off track and we needed to reign in the troops. At the same time, I suppose, letting them move through the crowds, listen, and look, and experience it for themselves without any preconceived ideas was efficacious enough. And it was.

We were present at an event that gathered almost a quarter of a million people (roughly 225,000). Yup, 225,000 human beings, gathered for the same reason, in the same place, and prayerfully, peacefully, and powerfully moving towards the Supreme Court building to overturn by the sheer power of prayer and peace and petition, the most unjust and demonic law of the land; the law that says unborn children are nothing... non-persons.... throw-aways. And we can dispose of them whenever we want, even up until the ninth month of pregnancy.

My students saw a massive body of young people like themselves; high schoolers, young adults, college students; there were rabbis, pastors, bishops, monks, sisters, politicians, mommys and daddys carrying, cuddling, and cruising their kids along in strollers. People from all over the country and from every walk of life. Some drove for 14 hours, others flew in the night before. Banners waving, drums rolling, chants from the silly to the sacred rising up from this body of believers like incense.... a prayer to honor the sanctity of human life.

But you know something? It's a miserable march. It's a tragedy that we should have to gather there, in the nation's Capitol. This is a trail of tears. Yes, there is hope and song, always so much life, so much joy in the power of each other's prayer. But when you round the corner every year and hit that spot where the massive images of aborted babies glare out at you... the weight of it hits you hard. This march is mournful. This is a hidden holocaust.

My students also saw something else, after returning home from the Capitol. Or should I say it was something they did not see? I wonder if you saw any coverage on it... Any pictures of the crowds? Those 225,000 souls. I did some searching Wednesday, desperately trying to get something, anything. I learned that Yahoo! pulled the picture I placed at the top of this post from their homepage after showing it for just a few hours. I never heard the actual number of marchers, and a local Chester County paper actually ran an article on its front page reading "25 Brave Chill" in support of Roe vs. Wade... OK, 25 people supporting abortion as a "right", standing in the cold for an astounding 45 minutes. While 225,000 travel from across the country travel to D.C. for one of the greatest outpourings for a single purpose in our history: to cherish and reverence life, from the womb to the tomb. Miserable, unjust, scandalous... pathetic.

Now for a chilling image so we can all have a sense of just what is at stake in the March for Life. It's a website with a page of single dots, each representing a single human life. The square of 10,000 dots is the building block for each of the graphics it lists below. Each square contains 1,000,000 dots, or 100 squares like the one above. Remember, each dot represents a human life. The sum total - more than 48,000,000. God have mercy on us... visit it by clicking here.

"Even though you can't hear or see them at all, a person's a person, no matter how small."
- Dr. Seuss

_________________________________________
The podcast of this event is available here, and at iTunes.

Seeing and Serving Christ in the Poor

My guest tonight was Katie Sullivan, Director of the Franciscan Volunteer Ministry, which serves our suffering brothers and sisters in three locations: Kensington in Northeast Philadelphia, PA, Wilmington, Delaware, and Camden, NJ.

"The Franciscan Volunteer Ministry is a group of lay men and women, living in community, who dedicate themselves to ministry in the Church in collaboration with the Franciscans of Holy Name Province. Based on the Gospel message to express love in action, it provides an environment that fosters service to the marginalized, personal and interpersonal development, spiritual growth, and an active prayer life."

We had a great conversation on Katie's own journey to join in the mission of the Franciscans, as well as sending out a challenging message for all of us to live the Gospel in a new and radical way. The podcast of our show will be up by the weekend!

Here is the list of needs for St. Francis Inn that Katie mentioned on the air:

GENERAL NEEDS
- prayers
- toilet paper
- tea bags
- sugar

PERSONAL ITEMS
- mini deodorants
- prayers
- mini lotions
- toothbrushes
- toothpaste

WINTER NEEDS
- prayers
- men's wool hats and gloves
- stretchy gloves (one size fits all)
- thermal underwear
- prayers
- blankets/sleeping bags
- hoodies (hooded sweatshirts)
- lotion again
- and prayers!

Here's the website again for the Franciscan Volunteer Ministry!

Dumbledore is Gay - A Catholic Response

Well, this is interesting news.

According to a CNN article posted today, the world famous British author J.K. Rowling, while wrapping up a brief "Open Book Tour" of the U.S., was asked by a young fan whether Dumbledore, the old wizard mentor of Harry Potter, finds "true love."

"Dumbledore is gay," the author responded.

Gasps and claps erupted in the audience. Huh?
OK... is that a yes or a no?

Amidst the shock and applause that fanned out over the fans at that sitting, I wonder if anyone saw the irony here. The hollow space of the unanswered question. Now with the ripples and the waves on the water caused by this comment, will we ever get to see the answer reflected?

Rowling was said to have regarded her Harry Potter series as a "prolonged argument for tolerance" and urged her fans to "question authority."

Oh boy...

But I'd like the answer to the question about finding "true love."

Dumbledore is gay? What does this mean? How will this effect the young readers across the planet who have looked on Dumbledore as a kind of grandpa, a type of Ben Kenobi guiding Luke in his decisions for a new generation? Will this give them light and clarity about their own life's direction (because good stories should do that; lead us to the light and not to fog.)

What is homosexuality? Let's reflect....

The Potter series, already a wee bit muddy with its dabbling in magic (although I feel the series ended on a very clear note with the triumph of good), has added another big question mark into its pages. Our sexual identity. I thought it was a story of good and evil, of courage and bravery in the face of tyranny and deceit? I guess there's more to this book than its cover?

PONDER THIS...

Our culture is in the midst of a sexual crisis. What does it mean to be a man? What does it mean to be a woman? Are there distinctions, differences? Are they merely biological? Can they be manipulated, conditioned? Can we decide to alter, recreate, refashion our bodies the way we want to? Is our sexual identity as male and female just like parts that can be replaced or rearranged?

Or is there something more than just biology about our bodies? Is there a theology? Something cosmic, something spiritual, something distinct in our creation as male AND female? Is there something complimentary in the very universe that echoes a Masculine and Feminine? It seems that every culture and every religion since the beginning has seen in earth and sky, seed and sower, flower and bee, a great truth manifested for us.

What is that truth? That the very difference between man and woman is literally what unites us together. Our sexual difference is literally what brings LIFE into the world.

Now let's look at Dumbledore, the homosexual wizard. This is where it gets "muddy." And bear with me, but I have to mention the "S word" really quickly: SIN. I know, I know, it's really out of date. Speaking of SIN today is like referring to pimples as carbuncles, or to CD players as gramophones. But SIN was a very popular word once and helped us to diagnose heaps of problems in the culture and inside our own messed up hearts too! And naming and claiming SIN helped us get the remedy too, like an antidote to poison.

So what is SIN? It's greek root means to miss the mark, like when an archer's arrow misses the bull's eye. Sin is a distortion, a bending of the good, a twisting of the original design to make it fit in our own little pocket. Some may not like to hear this, but homosexual acts are sinful. And like any sin, it's a seeking after what's deemed a Good. It just misses the mark.

Do homosexuals love one another (even wizards?); they can absolutely love one another. But there's love for all, and then there's the sexual expression of love meant for man and woman as part of God's plan for bringing LIFE into the world. Is homosexual love in this sense even possible? No. The very act itself is a forcing, an act that even biologically doesn't work. No word, no agenda, no person can change that or should try to. Does this mean that people with homosexual inclinations are evil and are going to Hell? Hell no.

It simply means that we are living in confusing times. It means that all of us are still looking for Love, still peering out through foggy, distorted lenses that haven't been set right since the Fall, when our first parents, Adam and Eve, reached out to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil and decided that they would rather make up the rules for themselves. That's what SIN is at the end of the day. SIN says "I don't trust this plan of love. I want it another way."

This is a hard teaching, I know. It's difficult especially for those suffering from strong, often overpowering, emotions towards same-sex attraction. And there's no magic wand of wood that can make it go away in an instant. But we're not bound by SIN anymore. The Wood of the Cross can set this right, can re-order our hearts, can lead us to Life! The Serpent in the Tree of the Garden had twisted its roots and its fruit has deceived us. But the Tree of the Cross has the figure of a Man upon it. And He says, "This is my Body, given up for you. Take and eat, and you will have Life." And the Church, the Bride of Christ, says, "Amen!"

Therein is the answer to the question of finding "true love." It's there at the foot of the Cross that our love can be remade, our hearts refashioned! May He turn our water into wine, and fill us with His Love!

Now that's magic.

Everything

This video has a power in it. After seeing it last week for the first time, I couldn't shake its music and imagery for three days! The skit performed here is truly inspired, and I think it captures the essence of the relationship of the soul to Christ, the great dance He invites us into with Him, the distractions that come, and the temptations that we allow to take hold of our hands and lead us astray. But as you'll see, the false dance of the world can never satisfy, and too often it leads us into despair. "When the Creator is forgotten, the creature is meaningless." There are some intense images for younger children (I would suggest this is for teen viewing and up). But stay with it.... the final battle of the soul for Jesus is heart-breaking and should inspire us all to say "You're all I want, You're all I need. You're everything! Everything!" The words from the song are below: Find Me Here, Speak To Me I want to feel you, I need to hear you You are the light that's leading me To the place where I find peace again. You are the strength, that keeps me walking. You are the hope, that keeps me trusting. You are the light to my soul. You are my purpose...you're everything. How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this? You calm the storms, and you give me rest. You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall. You steal my heart, and you take my breath away. Would you take me in? Take me deeper now? How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this? And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this? Cause you're all I want, You're all I need You're everything, everything You're all I want your all I need You're everything, everything. You're all I want you're all I need. You're everything, everything You're all I want you're all I need, you're everything, everything. And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this? How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this? How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

CalvinBall and the Meaning of Life

CalvinBall.

A number of people, in reading that word, just smiled. In the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, CalvinBall is a game that's about as predictable as a squirrel in the middle of a busy intersection. You make up the game as you go. For a complete list of the "rules".... click here!

I love CalvinBall. I've actually played it with my nieces and nephews a couple of years ago. It's hilarious, and a great way of getting kids, especially the too shy and serious, to just be goofy (This is key for adults as well). We're sorely in need of silliness these days. We need time "wasted", squandered, spilled out from the alabaster jars of our precious moments into the universe never to return (until Heaven, when all the Play really begins!). I could use a game like CalvinBall right now. How about you?

BUT IT'S A FINE LINE.... CalvinBall is a game. Life is more.

Nike's ads not long ago proclaimed to the world "If it feels good, just do it."
Burger King's slogan once said, "Sometimes ya gotta break the rules."

Commercials. Granted... But when our philosophers, who are called to chisel thoughts and sculpt ideas for us from the Eternal Verities, to inspire and uplift as they pass them out to us, have gone over to the Dark Side of radical humanism and a bleak atheistic reductionism, then what do we have left in a media driven, McNews atmosphere? Snappy commercials and snazzy slogans.

For a moment, imagine if we lifted up the structure of CalvinBall, or I should say un-structure, and tried it on our ethics, our social mores. What if we tried to constantly change the rules with regard to the way we relate to others, the way we look at right and wrong, the attitudes we share concerning the human person, womb to tomb. Imagine?

Well, that shouldn't be such a difficult leap. Welcome to our world, where the adults are running around playing CalvinBall with good and evil, right and wrong. When we turn the truth of the human person, the truth of our place in the universe, the reality of the supernatural and of higher laws into something mutable, like Playdoh in our hands for us to shape and squeeze and roll any way we want, then we've suddenly taken the game too far.

"You are free to eat from any of the trees of the garden except the tree of knowledge of good and bad. From that tree you shall not eat; the moment you eat from it you are surely doomed to die." (Genesis 2:16-17)

I've always been blown away by the sheer generosity of God in this passage. "You are FREE to eat from ANY OF THE TREES of the garden...." That's a pretty good deal! I wonder how many trees were there? Dozens? Hundreds, thousands? And God says, the one that is mine is the knowledge of Good and Evil. In other words, I am God. I have created a moral universe, peopled with free peoples who can become heroes or devils based on their choices. But the "Game" only works when you play by these rules. Adam and Eve, and all of us, fail when we stretch out our grimy mitts and decide WE will make up the rules from now on.

CalvinBall stinks when a player gets too carried away with themselves, forgetting it's a game and becoming a little dictator. Then the sense comes over everyone that it's time to stop. It's not fun anymore.

Dear Shapers of Human Thought and Action in Political Spheres and Juridical Courts, the rules you are making up as you go along are not fun anymore! You've torn up the tracks that are meant to lead us to the Good, the True, and the Beautiful!

Thank God, the Church still has the blueprints.

Cursillo: I Have No Idea... Sort Of...

OK. This image is a little creepy. But I didn't make it up. I'm going to meet it this weekend, "face to face." Uh.... Let me explain. As a teacher at Malvern, and hopefully soon a leader and mentor for the students when they go on their senior retreat, I've been invited to go on a Cursillo Retreat for adults this weekend. Now I've been on lots of retreats in my life. I love 'em! I love having the chance to squander time with God, walk the fields, sit in chapel and just BE, read good spiritual reading, eat good retreat house food, sleep in beds that are a foot shorter than I am tall. I love getting refreshed by the reminder that, indeed, all shall be well. To know again that when my life is a question mark, Jesus is the answer. But from the little splinters and shards of hearsay, from what I know of Cursillo retreats and have gleaned from random conversations and stuff over the years, I think this weekend will be .... different. THE FOLLOWING MAY OR MAY NOT BE TRUE.... OR FALSE (in other words, this is all I know of this mysterious movement of faith in the Catholic Church) 1. Cursillo is a mysterious movement of faith in the Catholic Church. 2. There is a rainbow involved, sometimes streaming from a rooster's backside, and today I've discovered, often amassing itself into a slightly creepy smiley face. 3. Anyone who has gone on Cursillo is sworn to secrecy about what actually DOES happen, under penalty of "death by smiley face." 4. Everyone claps alot. 5. Everyone is REALLY happy. 6. You must bring an umbrella (this has been conveyed to me like 4 times already) 7. You don't really sleep (this frightens me) 8. You walk away changed, affirmed, blessed, happy, and... mysteriously quiet about how that all came to pass. So these are just some of the pictures in my head of what this weekend holds in store for me. When it's all over, I'll be sure to blog about it and tell you what REALLY happened. I think. Maybe... YIKES.... I gotta go grab my umbrella.

The Death of Marriage

DISCLAIMER:
This is not a gloomy post. Sure, the "death of marriage" is a pretty dramatic title, but I just needed to catch your eyes. This one is meant to edify! To fire up husbands and wives and prospective husbands and wives! To lead them up the Mountain of Love that is Calvary, not down some primrose path with a white-picket fence that just feels nice. Those of us in the club know what I'm talking about: the secret to a joy-filled married life is... death.

So yeah.... Today, Rebecca and I celebrate 4 years of marriage... woohoo! So I went digging through the 'ole journals and this is something I found, written a few months before the BIG DAY...

"I am going to die." (I was ridiculous back then, wasn't I?) "It's not long now; just a couple of months. August 9th, to be exact. I'm getting married. Now this thought may not seem like your traditional “jitters” or cold feet. It’s a wee bit extreme, huh? But it’s true. I am going to die. I am mounting the hill of Calvary, and like Christ, I am called to lay down my life for my bride. His was the Church, mine is a symbol of the Church. But death it must be, if there is to be Real Life in our new life together. This isn’t poetry, it’s reality! To put it scientifically, no two objects can occupy the same space at the same time. In order to become a “one flesh union” we have to die to our old selves. Imagine if this was how engaged couples were viewing their wedding day! It would bring a radical simplicity to the plans, wouldn’t it? "We are going to die... Okay then, I guess we can’t take it with us, as they say. So what do we leave behind? The ego... yes, let’s die to that one. And the “Me First” attitude. That has to go too."


Marriage is about service to the other (I know this, despite the many times I turn it around). Before Jesus died, He washed the feet of his friends. A couple years ago, we went to a wedding of friends who were once Franciscan Volunteers (they were housemates of Rebecca when she lived and served in Kensington). At one point in the liturgy, they actually washed each other's feet.... is that awesome or what? We got the point! At our wedding, after Communion, Rebecca got up and sang to me the Servant Song.... it was RIDICULOUSLY BEAUTIFUL and I don't think there was a dry eye in the house!

So if this whole marriage thing is a call to die like Christ did for His Bride, to serve like Christ for the Beloved, then we discover that our union should be deeply “Eucharistic.”

A Little Somethin' from Christopher West
When we receive the Eucharist worthily, it bears new life in the whole of our lives. When we receive it unworthily, we eat and drink our condemnation (1 Co 11:29). Similarly, when spouses open their union to the Holy Spirit, their whole marriage continually bears new life in the Spirit. However, if spouses close their union to the Spirit, they undermine the whole reality of their marriage and their family life. (Read the full article)

It is therefore fitting that the spouses should seal their consent to give themselves to each other through the offering of their own lives by uniting it to the offering of Christ for his Church made present in the Eucharistic sacrifice, and by receiving the Eucharist so that, communicating in the same Body and the same Blood of Christ, they may form but "one body" in Christ. - CCC 1621


Now that's deep stuff. I can only say that I'm beginning to get it more and more. We have a beautiful reminder of this call to Communion in our marriage. It's a paten.... and was given to us by two dear friends on our wedding day. Our names our written within it. The priest who married us, Fr. Scott, was taken aback when he discovered, right before the wedding mass began, that this was a gift of ours. He had planned to preach on the very idea of this Eucharistic aspect of marriage for us, and saw in his prayer, a silver paten! (play Twilight Zone music here). A paten is a shallow dish or plate that holds the consecrated host, the material that God has transformed into Himself at the words of the priest and the power of the Spirit. Fr. Scott said that's where we belong, right in that paten. If we keep ourselves there, with the hands of Jesus hovering over the material of our marriage, then we can expect a transformation. Amen to that!

So God help us when we try and wiggle out of that place of transformation, as we so often do. God help all husbands and wives who share in this amazing, perplexing, impossible, crazy collaboration of hearts that is marriage.

Now it's off to grab some roses and a little vino ;)

.... Cheers!

Wake Up and Smell the Incense

Rebecca just sent me this statistic, released on Friday from the Office for Research and Planning in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia:

"There are 1,204,818 registered Catholic parishioners in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia. In addition, in parishes where there is a large unregistered population, Pastors estimate that there are another 87,804 unregistered parishioners. There are other unregistered Catholic people living in universities, institutions and other group settings and others who identify themselves as Catholic but are not counted in this report. The most current estimate of all Catholic people (registered and unregistered) is 1,458,642."

That's just NUTS.

1,458,642 Catholics in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia alone....

Not to don those 'ole cranky pants again, but..... what difference are we making?

Why is Philadelphia slowing becoming the murder capital of the country? Why is the "City of Brotherly Love" an expression always said sarcastically these days? What's with all the getting and spending, the bitterness and the laziness and the rampant desecration of the sacrament of my neighbor? What's going on??!!

Could you imagine if all of us, all 1,458,642 of the Catholics here in Philadelphia, were on fire with faith, open to the power of the Holy Spirit, unashamed and giddy at the thought of loving Jesus and serving others as He has served us? Taking time to pray each day..... 1,458,642 souls praying all over the five counties, being still, asking the deeper questions, looking for ways to love and serve God and others... wanting and willing to be become SAINTS! No matter what the cost! I can only imagine...

Oh man, we need to wake up and smell the incense! We are called to be a light to the nations, salt of the earth, leaven in the midst of a flat and tasteless materialistic culture!


The story goes that the Devil appeared to Saint John Vianney one day, the man so renowned for his faithfulness and devotion to the confessional and to counselling others. "If there were three souls like you in the world," the Devil said, "My kingdom would fall."

What the?! Only three saintly souls, THREE open and ready to do the Master's bidding, to follow His lead into Calvary, to run a rescue mission for the lost and lonely hearts out there, and they could take out Satan?

1,458,642.....

Let's start with 1.

"Can I Get a Witness?" - The Feast of St. Thomas

I heard a preacher once who made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was years ago; a Saturday as I remember. I was in my dorm room at Overbrook flipping through radio stations when I came upon the burly, gravelly voice of a man on fire.

He was preaching to a gathering in a church somewhere in the city, and suddenly, I was a part of the congregation. He started slow and steady, in a thick, southern rumble, black and smokey. My hand stopped spinning the dial.


"... Now the next Sunday," it broke in... "Thomas was at church....(uh huh, amen, gushed the crowd)... "Ya see, Jesus had appeared after the Resurrection... but Thomas was outside a church that Sunday (mm hmm, oh no).... Now y'all know the difference in ya life when you at church, and when you away from church?" (oh yes, amen!).... "Well the next Sunday, Thomas was at church... and the doors were locked. Can I get a witness? And Jesus.... well, He just showed up...." (This brought a surge of amens and alleluias). "Jesus didn't knock on the door. He didn't use a key. He didn't get a usher to lead Him down the aisle.... HE JUST SHOWED UP!" (amen!!)

"Now Jesus has a mind to show up at church when He gets ready. After all, the thang belong to Him! He can show up anytime He want to!!" (amen!! preach it!)

"And Jesus said "now peace be with y'all" and He looked at Thomas and said "Now come here Thomas...." (amen, oh yes He did!) "Now Thomas..... I heard all a dat BIG talk you been making..... now come on over here. Put ya hand in my side. Put ya fingers in the nail prints in my hands!" (glory be, amen!) "No longer doubt but BELIEVE!..... and Thomas just stood there.... shaking." (laughter) "And do you know what he said? He didn't say 'Lemme get my Biology 101 notes... he didn't say... let me talk to my.... psychiatrist!" (oh no) "You know what he said? ..... (a hush came over the congregation, and I listened wrapped to the radio)

"MY LORD..... AND MY GOD!"



It's funny that I remember all of this so well, I had thrown a tape in and recorded most of it, but I've since lost the tape, years ago. The preacher went on to witness to the power of faith, and his voice slowly rose to a bellowing cry, a lion's roar, and he ended by nearly chanting something like the Apostle's Creed. It was insanely moving. I couldn't help but get caught up in that fire and spirit.


Now Thomas is one of us. Heck, all the saints are. We often gild them over with shiny marble and peaceful plastic smiles, but all of them lived this very life. Many were distraught at times, upset, doubtful, anxious, troubled. But they persevered, didn't they? I admire Thomas for this very reason; because he questioned, and seemingly not out of disrespect or just to be "doubtful"... He wanted more. He wouldn't settle for a blind faith, or for words only. He went deeper, he probed into the purported miracle, quite literally, and pushed into the Mystery. He moved beyond the here say, the reports, the gossip. Some can and do believe without this digging in, and in all truth "blessed are they who have not seen and yet believe." Blessed are those who can receive the gift with open arms and open minds. But I think in our modern age, a Thomas makes it easier for many of us; he paves the way for the wondering to walk and the doubtful to dig a little further. Here's a saint for the modern age.

But are we willing to go as far as Thomas did? He didn't end as the Doubtful, but the Daring. He stepped up and proclaimed that Divinity was now dwelling in Humanity. He cried out in faith that God was in the flesh, right before him!

Can we do this, or will we stay mired in our doubt or worse, indifference? Can we approach Jesus, the Wounded Healer, and stretch out our trembling hands? If we put our finger into his wounds He will pull us further in. Give Him an inch and He will take our hearts.

Are we willing to let go of the past and see that now, all things are new? Let's walk behind Thomas today, and ask for the courage to say with him, "My Lord... and my God!"

Just a Little Gem from Clive Staples

Been away from the blog for a few days... busy busy busy. So here's a quick word from the "Man":

It is always shocking to meet life where we thought we were alone. 'Look out!' we cry, 'it's alive'. And therefore this is the very point at which so many draw back - I would have done so myself if I could - and proceed no further with Christianity. An 'impersonal God' -- well and good. A subjective God of beauty, truth and goodness, inside our own heads - better still. A formless life-force surging through us, a vast power which we can tap - best of all. But God Himself, alive, pulling at the other end of the cord, perhaps approaching at an infinite speed, the hunter, king, husband - that is quite another matter. There comes a moment when the children who have been playing at burglars hush suddenly: was that a real footstep in the hall? There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion ('Man's search for God!') suddenly draw back. Supposing we really found Him? We never meant it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us?

- C.S. Lewis, from Miracles