Catholicism, holiness and spirituality

Raising our kids in church - or not

As a committed, regular-mass-attending Catholic parent, I want my sons to grow up in the church and stay in the church when they become adults. We've gone to church every week and they've attended Catholic schools since kindergarten. We love the parish we attend, and it has some great youth programs. Yet, they aren't so sure about Catholicism.

I understand that teenagers and young adults doubt; they have to find their own faith, and that's natural. And I'm aware that close to half of young adults raised in a particular church end up switching churches or stop attending altogether. I wonder why this is? Just what is it about religious formation that we are getting wrong when half of the kids later abandon it?

And then this past Sunday I read an article in the New York Times about a young teenager who wasn't raised in a church at all, who decided he wanted to start attending. The article said that 54 percent of such kids end up choosing a church at some point.

So half the kids raised in churches leave them, and half the kids not raised in churches join them. What does that mean for us parents, and for religious educators?

For me, I think it means that I have to more explicitly link our family's values to the church; I think that will help my sons make some connections. What are those values?

We're not perfect, and we're not going to expect or demand perfection - just that you give it your best shot. And when you do fail at something, we're not going to abandon you or give up on you. We're going to talk about it, see what can be done to fix or improve it, and keep on moving forward.

The church isn't perfect - which is easy to see these days. But we're not going to abandon it; we will work in our local church to make it better and to help it keep moving forward to do its work. Perfect doesn't exist around here, so let's not expect it - neither in us and our family nor in the church.

There's more than one way to be 'family'. We have our way, and it works pretty good most of the time. Other families are different, and they work too. There's more than one way to 'be' Catholic. Our way works for us, and it's different than some other people we know. And it's different than what some of your religion teachers have taught; they were teaching you about what they think is best, and that's not the only way.

We don't always agree with each other; sometimes we don't like each other much, either - but we're still a family. Mom and I love each other, and have been committed to each other for a long time but now and then we fight about things. Doesn't your brother get on your nerves sometimes? Through all this, we stick together as a family because the love we have far outweighs the difficulties among us.

Same goes for people in the church - there are all kinds of people, and sometimes we will disagree and sometimes those disagreements will be pretty serious. It's love that keeps us coming back to worship together because we're better together than apart.

Our family has changed over time. Sometimes it's been slow, sometimes pretty quick. Sometimes the change is in others, sometimes it's in us; often it's all of us changing in response to each other and the issues we're facing. But we are not the same family now that we were 10 years ago, or even 10 months ago.

The church changes over time, too. It changes slower than families, but the change is there. Sometimes the change is in us, and often the change is all around us. Read-up on what church was like in the 70's or 50's; it was a lot different in centuries past.

Well, that makes sense to me. Would it have made sense to me as a teenager? I think so - but that's been a long time ago.

Writing that blog....

I've been thinking about my blog for a while - thinking I'd like to post something here, getting an idea, and then getting busy with real-life. Then when I'm out in the yard working, or shuttling the boys here or there, or on an airplane headed somewhere, I remember – I need to write that blog when I get back to my computer. And then I get back to those daily tasks that seem to keep me busy all the time. And the blog waits.

I have started a blog for my business, and it's been nice to write about work-related things. I've also joined Facebook to keep in touch with classmates, friends and family – also nice (no business for me via Facebook – I have to keep a boundary there or it will just get too crazy!). And just recently, I joined Twitter, because all the business-advising types say that's the best new way to market my consulting business. All this e-connecting takes time; I wonder just how much of a fad it is? I know that at least part of it is fad and hype; but part of it is real, too. How much of this e-connecting is real, is worthwhile, is genuine?

And that got me back to my favorite blog, one that I have neglected far too long – Catholicism, Holiness &Spirituality (what a catchy name!). The most 'real' connections I've ever had via the internet have come from this blog, and perhaps some of the most 'real' things I've ever written have been here on this blog. It takes time, and inspiration – two things I've lacked for a few months.

All this e-connecting can end up leaving us more disconnected, I think. It's great to post pictures and updates via Facebook, and to read those updates from my family and friends; but it is altogether a different thing to talk with them in person, to savor all the non-verbal cues and catch the sincerity in conversations that ramble and end up nowhere in particular. Twitter is fine for those extroverts who find the whole world interested in 140-character spurts of their lives; for us introverts it's sort of puzzling to figure out just what that tool is good for. What can I write that is meaningful in 140 characters or less?

And so this blog; hopefully you will find more meaningful posts here in the near future, substantially longer than a tweet or a Facebook status update. And hopefully, even a bit meaningful, relevant or interesting.

Abortion & Catholic Politicians

It's been quite a few years now that some Catholic groups have shined a light on how some Catholic politicians are personally opposed to abortion but tacitly support it in their policies and decisions. I find it hard to see how a person can personally oppose abortion but then support it in public policy - but that's been discussed before here and in a lot of other places and that's not what is on my mind this morning anyway.

So President Obama is going to nominate the governor of Kansas (the state I was born & raised in) - Kathleen Sebelius - to be Secretary for Health & Human Services. She's Catholic and supports abortion rights - and so she's controversial and shouldn't be nominated; or so that's how some anti-abortion Catholics see it.

I used to care about pro-choice Catholic politicians, but not really any more. I don't like abortion; I think it's terrible. I volunteer at a crisis pregnancy counseling center, and I support its work. And I think it's that experience that has led me to care less about the protests some Catholic groups put up when such politicians are in the news.        

If we care about reducing or eliminating abortion, we have to care about the women who choose to get those abortions. What led them to the point in their lives where they have to make that decision? I can say from my experience, those events include childhood sexual abuse, drug and alcohol addicitions that lead to sexual promiscuity, fearing the family & social repercussions of being pregnant, poor parenting, economic stress, and direct pressure from boyfriends, spouses and parents.

I truly believe that we will be more effective at reducing the number of abortions if we start caring more about women and the circumstances that lead them to make the decision that abortion is the best choice for them. That means more resources put towards education, counseling, prevention (abstinence or contraception based on your moral compass), health care, jobs, and programs that build the strength of families. For me, being against abortion is all about being for women and their families.

Offensive? Or helpful?

As I read today's reading from Corinthians (1 Corinthians 10:31-11:1) I chuckled:

Whatever you eat, whatever you drink, whatever you do at all, do it for the glory of God. Never do anything offensive to anyone – to Jews or Greeks or to the Church of God; just as I try to be helpful to everyone at all times, not anxious for my own advantage but for the advantage of everybody else, so that they may be saved. Take me for your model, as I take Christ.

What Paul is saying here is very much needed these days. Conduct yourself for the glory of God, don't do anything offensive to anyone, try to always be helpful - that's some good, simple advice we can all benefit from.

And it's a good point of reflection today, I think: How have I been offensive? What have I done to be helpful? What do I get out of being offensive or supporting those who are offensive? What is getting in the way of me being considerate and helpful?

Recharging

Today's Gospel talks about how Jesus spent time curing the sick and casting out demons, and then the morning after he gets away by himself from all that to spend some time in prayer:

In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house, and went off to a lonely place and prayed there.

This is the part of the Gospel that jumped out at me, speaking to me this morning. Jesus, like most everyone I know, worked hard every day. He spent his days and nights fulfilling his mission, and that took a lot of energy - there are all kinds of examples of that through the Gospels. And there are also passages like the one above, telling us how Jesus got away from the crowd, even away from his disciples, to go pray in solitude. I think that was his way of recharging, of regaining some energy and perspective.

So if Jesus worked hard and took breaks to recharge, maybe we can work hard and take breaks to recharge. I know many people work hard, and work a lot, and many of them aren't taking those breaks to recharge. They say, There are just so many things to do, to get done, and if I don't do them then who will? I know all that, I've been there... and it was one of the most destructive habits I've ever had.

I think the fact is that there often is too much work for us to get done, particularly those of us who are parents or who are caring for our parents... and for those of us who are self-employed or in family businesses, or working hard to hold on to a good job, or working hard simply to hold on to the job we have, or those who are working hard to hold a family or a relationship together, or recovering from an illness or injury. Sometimes, often-times, life is hard and we work hard to get through the day. It can be easy to commiserate with Job when he says:

Is not man’s life on earth nothing more than pressed service,

  his time no better than hired drudgery?

Like the slave, sighing for the shade,

  or the workman with no thought but his wages,

months of delusion I have assigned to me,

  nothing for my own but nights of grief.

Lying in bed I wonder, ‘When will it be day?’

  Risen I think, ‘How slowly evening comes!’

  Restlessly I fret till twilight falls.

Swifter than a weaver’s shuttle my days have passed,

  and vanished, leaving no hope behind.

Remember that my life is but a breath,

  and that my eyes will never again see joy.

But if Jesus took breaks to recharge, then why not us? If he took time for himself to go pray alone, why not us? What recharges you? What is it that you can do where you come away feeling refreshed, energized, and optimistic about engaging life? How can you work that into your routine to make sure it happens regularly (hint: yes, you can fit it into your day!)?

Of course, you may be more like Paul than Jesus*. Paul says:

I do not boast of preaching the gospel, since it is a duty which has been laid on me; I should be punished if I did not preach it! If I had chosen this work myself, I might have been paid for it, but as I have not, it is a responsibility which has been put into my hands. Do you know what my reward is? It is this in my preaching, to be able to offer the Good News free, and not insist on the rights which the gospel gives me.

Paul got his charge out of preaching, from engaging other people. And if that works for you, then that's great! Find whatever it is that recharges you, and work it into your daily routine.

* From these scriptures and others, I think Jesus was an introvert and Paul was an extrovert.

Money isn't the problem

“Money doesn’t seem to be a problem when the problem is money.” -- Prime Minister of Norway Jens Stoltenberg

I suppose I'd add to the Prime Minister's words, that money doesn't seem to be a problem when the problem is money, or war. We can come up with billions of dollars to fund wars and bail out Wall Street and US car-makers. Even our presidential candidates collectively raised and spent over a billion dollars campaigning the past couple years.

Yet, people struggle to obtain affordable healthcare, even going into bankruptcy as medical bills pile up. Or, people go without basic healthcare because they can't afford it, and end up getting sick and seeking expensive treatment in hospital emergency rooms. And all too often, people show up sick to work because they don't have any time off left, which can further erode their health and spread sickness to their colleagues.

Some people live in run-down, unsafe housing because they just can't maintain a house when working minimum wage or trying to get by on unemployment benefits. And then, once their savings and unemployment benefits run out, their house is taken back by the bank and they and their family are homeless.

It's really a shameful reality we live in here in the United States, a reality it seems we would prefer not to see or acknowledge. Maybe it's just too much of a shock to our view of America The Great, or maybe it's too painful to see that others go without when we have plenty. I suppose some people just don't care.

We can spend billions a month for several years to fund wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Within a matter of weeks we can create and fund a $700 billion entity to get capital flowing again, yet we can not muster the social and political will to make sure that people have basic healthcare and housing. People – fellow human beings with wants, needs, dreams and desires just like everyone else: moms, dads, kids and grandparents, neighbors, and friends. They are everywhere when you take the time to look for and know them.

Maybe once more people start to see them and know them, then money won't be so much of the problem.

It's all about connecting

As I read today's Gospel reading I had this flash of memory from when I was a young boy, singing with everyone else at Sunday Mass 'Whatsoever You Do'. Remember that song – 'whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me'? It was sung slowly and solemnly; it was almost sad.

Well, I had four brothers, but I knew the song wasn't really talking about them. It was about Jesus telling people that whatever they did to those in need, they did to him. I didn't really get it though. You see, we never really reached out and helped those in need; at least, not that I can remember. Part of that, I think, was due to our German-American farming community – people just didn't ask for help like that. It seems like we all just sucked it up, put on our stoic faces, and plodded on.

When I got married, my in-laws' tradition didn't do much to contribute to the 'whatsoever you do' idea. For them, faith saved, not works. The whole focus was on finding that faith; serving others got all tangled up with the whole 'faith vs. works' thing that it seemed so prevalent in the Pentecostal movement those days.

But still, this Gospel reading from Matthew always seemed to speak to me when I heard it, even if I didn't translate it into action:

Then the virtuous will say to him in reply, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you; or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and make you welcome; naked and clothe you; sick or in prison and go to see you?” And the King will answer, “I tell you solemnly, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me.”

We had a neighbor two doors down in Tulsa – Mayme. She was widowed, without children, and probably in her late seventies, but spunky and as independent as she could be. That independence was evaporating, slowly at first and then rapidly. I remember offering to mow her lawn whenever I mowed mine, because I could see she was having a tough time. She offered to pay me, but I assured her it was no problem. More than keeping the lawn mowed, I think she just enjoyed the attention and conversation.

Over the next few years Mayme became more frail, and my wife and I became her good friends. She no longer drove, so we helped her with shopping. I did small repairs on her house, and my wife helped her out in the house. Mayme was really saddened when PJ died – her beloved Cocker Spaniel. About the same time as her health took a turn for the worse, we shared with her that we were expecting our first child. That was a very bright spot in her life; our joy was reflected through her smiles. I remember opening the front door for her for one of the baby showers, and remarking how good she looked – all dressed up, and with make-up on! Soon after that, Mayme entered a nursing home – on a temporary basis, she assured us.

The day after Nicholas was born, Mayme died alone at the nursing home. She had no family or friends in town, the closest relatives were hundreds of miles away. It was quite a mix of emotions – the birth of our son and the death of a good friend all at once.

Looking back at that now, I think I can see what Jesus was getting at – 'whatever you do to the least of these, you do to me'. The smiles, laughter, struggles, pain and hope that we shared with Mayme on a literal, physical level are one thing, but there's more to it that that. Those experiences – real live, interactive human experiences – helped us get in touch with, get closer to, the source of life in us both. And that source of life is Jesus. Serving others, being in solidarity with those in need, is a way to nurture our relationship with Jesus.

You don't nurture that relationship by giving money to the poor, by voting for change, or lobbying for this or that. Those can all be good things that God calls us to do, but there's more. Connecting with and serving people in need is, I think, what Jesus is calling us to do through this Gospel story. As we do that and make those connections, we get to know Jesus.

Talents and distance

What is it in our lives that keeps us from getting closer to God? What's in that space between us and God? There are all sorts of theological answers, I suppose, but theology is not the answer here. The answer lies within each of us – is it fear, or is it laziness? Is it our self-loathing, or is it mistrust? Maybe it is doubt and cynicism born from the failures of the past. Or maybe we're just tired of making the effort. I think that distance is unique to each of us, and it relates directly to today's Gospel reading.

Today's Gospel is the one that motivates Type A's and disheartens Type B's. It's great to hear it when you feel good about your walk with God, and it can be depressing when you're feeling down. It's the one about the master who leaves, giving each of his three servants some money – talents. Two of the servants do things to increase the amount of money they can give back to the master, while the third is afraid of losing it and simply hides it until the master's return. When the master returns he rewards the two who increased his money, and punished the one who hid the money.

So what's the lesson here? If we don't do something with our talents then God will punish us? What happened to God's unconditional love? I think the lesson is different.

The third servant was afraid of what would happen if he lost the money, and that fear is what kept him distant from the master. Fear is what was in that distance between him and God. That distance is both a result of our separation from God and and an obstacle that keeps us from living our lives in ways that bring us closer to God. And the more we are distant from God, the worse it feels. What is going to tip that balance?

Faith, grace, something that we can recognize and know that God is with us - something small like that can be the grain of sand that tips the balance, that turns us from the downward spiral to an upward one. When those moments come, we need to take a small step outside our comfort zone, and turn them into something positive. As we do that, I think we will get to know God better and whatever keeps us distant will disappear.

We're getting a new Archbishop in Cincinnati

The Vatican announced today that we're getting a new Archbishop in Cincinnati. Archbishop Pilarczyk is almost at his mandatory retirement age of 75, so the Vatican is moving Dennis M. Schnurr here to be the Archbishop-elect. Schnurr comes from the Diocese of Duluth, MN.

The local paper (The Enquirer) has an article on it, quoting a SNAP representative as 'it can't get any worse'. I smiled on that one; of course it could get worse, but it seems like it's going to get better. However, I share their sentiment; this is long overdue.

Principles, change and fear - oh my!

There's a fine line, I think, between being principled vs stubborn, between being confident in yourself and fearing change. At that fine line, we learn something that disrupts our principles (or beliefs, assumptions, or worldview); instead of examining that disruption to determine if it's a valid reason for us to change, we reflexively reject it because we can't accept a change, or a challenge, to our principles. Instead of being secure in our confidence, we end up holding our ground because we're afraid of what change may bring. That's what came to my mind as I considered the Gospel reading for this Sunday:

Matthew 21:    28-32

Jesus said to the chief priests and elders, ‘What is your opinion? A man had two sons. He went and said to the first, “My boy, you go and work in the vineyard today.” He answered, “I will not go,” but afterwards thought better of it and went. The man then went and said the same thing to the second who answered, “Certainly, sir,” but did not go. Which of the two did the father’s will?’ ‘The first’ they said. Jesus said to them, ‘I tell you solemnly, tax collectors and prostitutes are making their way into the kingdom of God before you. For John came to you, a pattern of true righteousness, but you did not believe him, and yet the tax collectors and prostitutes did. Even after seeing that, you refused to think better of it and believe in him.

As I read that I thought about the humility to accept change, and the discernment to see if that change is God's will for us. Humility and openness to change are not one-time gifts or decisions we make that stick with us for a lifetime. Well, not for me anyway. I have to continuously cultivate them in myself. And it's not easy because I'm very confident in my principles. Or am I stubbornly fearing change?