Catholicism, holiness and spirituality

Phew! ... and a meme

Well yes I am still here, just very busy and pulled in many other directions by life and special projects. We went on vacation, then I caught up from vacation, then some special projects come along, spring has sprung and drawn me outdoors away from my computer.... all good things :)

Crystal tagged me for a meme - my life in six words(!) How can that be? My life in six words.... well, here's what I came up with:

Unexpected changes drove challenging, fruitful growth

That's the story of my life - I've had some really unexpected things happen in my life over the years, and they drove me to change; and that change has been both challenging and fruitful/rewarding. Oh, and a picture to go with the six words - I'll have to look for a suitable one; but gotta run now :)

Making the darkness a bit brighter

Reading the news at CNS I found the opening words of this story - a quote from Pope Benedict - to ring very true for me:

One's feelings of hatred must be washed away with forgiveness and humble service toward others -- they should never be left to linger long enough to poison the soul

It's short and sweet and simple - and often hard to do, and hard to do so consistently. When you take a look around the world at the war, the injustice, the crime and sin of the day, it seems to me that a lot of it comes from harboring and nurturing hatred towards others. And the same could apply to our personal sin - feelings of resentment and anger towards others that we allow to find a home inside us.

We have a natural tendency to feel anger, resentment and hatred. I'm not saying we shouldn't allow ourselves to feel those things; they are just feelings, after all. It's natural to have all sorts of feelings. The key is not letting those negative things find a home in our hearts - washing them away 'with forgiveness and humble service toward others' before they are there long enough to stick to our souls.

But you know, it's not always easy to forgive. And there is so much in this world, in our modern society, that pulls us towards selfishness and away from humility, towards narcissism and away from serving others.

I've found that as I help others, the darkness in my heart gets brighter. As the focus shifts from me and my selfishness towards the humanness of others and how I can be of service to them, there just isn't as much room for the anger and resentment.

Struggles and perseverance

This letter from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin to his cousin Mageurite really made me pause and reflect. Here are the parts of the letter that struck a chord in me:

[Hersin-Coupigny] 7th October 1915

... I made a tour of the trenches on the eve of the attack to people I knew and to give communion to  some (all to whom I offered it, accepted; I was limited by the smallness of my pyx). You can't imagine what emotions I then experienced, nor what one feels is conveyed in the clasp of a man who shakes one's hand, at a bend in a communications trench, after one has given him God – while the shells are going across, almost like a solid vault overhead, with a continual hum, on their way to demolish the trenches 200 metres further on, the trenches we'll have to move into as soon as the bombardment stops. There's no doubt about it: The only man who knows [who experiences] right in the innermost depths of his being the weight and grandeur of war, is the man who goes over the top with bayonet and grenade. In that moment training, of course, and a sort of intoxication play a large part; but even so it is still true that the infantryman leaving his trench for the attack is a man apart, a man who has lived a minute of life of which other men have simply no conception at all.

I am ashamed, as you may imagine, to think that I stayed in the communication trenches while my friends went out to their death. So many of them never came back – first among them, my best friend in the regiment, and the finest soldier I've yet known, poor Commandant Lefebvre ...

What is going to emerge from this ghastly struggle? It's more and more the crisis, the desperately slow evolution of a rebirth of Europe. Yet could things move any more quickly? ... We must offer our existence to God, who neither wastes nor spoils, but rather makes use, better than we could ever anticipate, of the struggles in which we are enveloped. If I said I didn't feel any weariness, I wouldn't be speaking the truth. As soon as the trenches lose the attraction of novelty, you easily become heartily sick of them – particularly, perhaps, when, like me, the work you've given yourself to involves witnessing all the miseries, one after another, without sharing in the battle or victory. Pray to God the he may give me the strength to hold out as long as he should wish me to. When the regiment, for the third time, fills up with new faces, it's hard work to start making friends again, to form relationships, in the hopes of being able to give someone words of advice or absolution when the next attack comes. God grant that we may remain his workers to the end. ...

This letter is set in the trenches of World War I, but couldn't it just as well apply to the wars of today? We can never really know what it's like to be a soldier on the front line, or on a patrol somewhere in a hostile, foreign land. As we sit back here in relative safety, people die in war. And what will emerge from this struggle? We are understandably impatient and weary; and perhaps we're hesitant to get too intimate with what's really going on.

It seems to me that Teilhard's experience here also applies to the 'wars' of poverty, HIV/AIDS and other diseases that decimate some countries, persecuted refugees, inner-city struggles, rural poverty and so on. Can we imagine the emotions we might feel from a close, spiritual connection with someone we know is facing persecution, chronic disease, hunger, street violence, or death? Would we feel shame for being close to them yet removed from that same danger? And what will emerge from these struggles around the world and in our own back yards? Maybe we get weary from constantly giving, or being called to give, of ourselves and our resources to causes that don't seem to get resolved. It can be hard to keep going in the midst of what seems to be constant struggle, constant misery.

As I read this letter from Teilhard, I was also reminded that there are plenty of Jesuits today who could probably relate to his experiences in the trenches of World War I. The front lines may be different, but the 'ghastly' struggles are just as real.

Green Catholicism

Not a St Patrick's Day sort of 'green', but 'green' as in environmentally friendly. I came across some info on the web that led me to this story on Zenit, which has a number of related articles in the sidebar. I had heard bits and pieces about Pope Benedict and the curia talking up for care of the environment, but after perusing the Zenit articles I can see that it's more than that. Looks like they are saying the part of being Catholic is being 'green'(!)

OK so we can define 'green' in a lot of ways, but when the leadership of an organization that encompasses about 1 billion people expresses concern about...

exhausting the resources of the planet, the rapid thawing of the glaciers, the increase of the greenhouse effect, the increase of natural disasters, excessive emission of carbon dioxide ... These are some of the warning signs that call for a moral awakening in favor of the earth.

... that seems to be a fairly bg deal. It's good to see this coming from the Vatican; and I'm reminded that the Jesuit GC 35 also dealt with environmental issues, but I haven't read about that, yet.

Action and Sanctification

As I was reading through 'The Making of a Mind' I came across a letter from Teilhard written while he was on a break from the front-lines, at a place named Zuydcoote in Northern France, on July 4, 1915. The first part of it was familiar, containing the prayer titled 'Patient Trust' that I first read in the little prayer book 'Hearts on Fire'. The second part of the letter contains another gem - Teilhard's description of true religion, one which spurs action that leads to sanctification:

One of the surest marks of the truth of religion, in itself and in an individual soul, is to note to what extent it brings into action, that is, causes to rise up from sources deep within each one of us, a certain maximum of energy and effort. Action and sanctification go hand in hand, each supporting the other. You want to feel yourself more balanced in the hurly-burly of a free life: strive to increase your own personal impetus, your thrust towards the good to be achieved in your own circle. When your moral 'vital force' has thus been increased, the contrary winds that might make you waver or hesitate if you were at rest will hardly divert you from your course, for you will be under way.

I like that - it makes sense to me, and I've found it to be true. When I am more or less standing still in my spiritual life, in my social-justice activities, or just feeling all-around insular, it is much easier for me to waver and hesitate to do the right thing, to live a holier life. But when I'm moving along, spiritually and in using my blessings to help others, I am much more centered and resolute. Action and sanctification do seem to go hand in hand, for me at least.

Letters from a soldier-priest

One of the books I've been reading, bit by bit, is by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ - one of my favorite Jesuits from history. He was in the first world war, serving France as an 'enlisted' soldier on the front line from Nieport to Rechesy. The book's full title is 'The Making of a Mind, Letters from a soldier-priest [1914-1919]', and it is now out of print.

There are two things about this book that attracted me to it. My brother-in-law is a chaplain in the Air Force, and currently on active duty somewhere in the Middle East (or, Southwest Asia as he likes to call it). Having a family member in active duty brings me closer to that world. I pay closer attention to the detail of the war-news, and his emails give me a more intimate picture of what's going on there. So, that led me to this work of Teilhard's; I knew from earlier works that he had spent time in the war, so this chaplaincy-connection from past to present sparked my curiosity.

The other aspect of this book that attracted me to it is that it is essentially a collection of letters Teilhard wrote from the front lines back to his cousin, Marguerite Teilhard. Who writes letters these days? We email, we blog, we send text messages. People can reach me most any time, any place, via my mobile phone, which I can also use for reading and sending email. But because it's so easy and quick to communicate those ways, perhaps we also lose some intimacy, some depth in the communication? My brother-in-law the chaplain sends us all an email now and then, to let us know how he's doing and some of the highlights he can share about his work. Because he is so far away and is restricted in his time and detail of what he can share, his emails seem to have more authenticity, more genuineness. They remind me of the letters Teilhard wrote to his cousin - little capsules of the important thoughts, feelings and happenings that need to be written down and communicated.

So for the first quote from the book, here's one that chaplains will appreciate, and which shows a glimpse, I think, of someone holding true to their calling:

[Marest, Oise] 9th February 1915

... I feel increasingly happy at having been posted to a regiment in which, as I told you, I am the only priest, and where there is a large number of men who, when the time comes, will turn to me for help. I hope really to have found my right place. ...

Goodbye. I pray for you, and I ask our Lord to associate our activities, however far from one another they may seem, so that they may 'render' more to his service.

Well how about that?!

Someone(s) nominated my blog for a Catholic Blog Award! I'm flattered - whoever did that, thanks! It's in the category of 'Most Spiritual' - which is even more flattering. Thanks to Susan for pointing this out - I would have never known. Her blog was also nominated in the 'Best Blog by Clergy/Religious/Seminarian' and 'Best Individual Blog' categories.

So if you want to go vote - register and do so at www.catholicblogawards.com. It's a simple process, and a good way to find some new blogs!

Now I have to get back to actually writing here... have had many other things pulling on my time; and I miss it here.

A Fine Line

Did you catch the news that France's president Nicolas Sarkozy has instructed French schools to teach every fifth grader 'to learn the life story of one of the 11,000 French children killed by the Nazis in the Holocaust'? It seems to have created quite a stir in France, according to the NY Times article. Sarkozy went a bit further, too, by stating that 'the Nazi belief in a hierarchy of races “radically incompatible with Judeo-Christian monotheism.” I wasn't aware, but it seems Mr Sarkozy has been talking a bit more about religion:

But there is something else. Mr. Sarkozy is shattering another barrier in French intellectual life: religion. His public statements on the subject seem to reflect a deeply held belief that religious values have an important place in everyday French society — an iconoclastic position for a French politician.

When Mr. Sarkozy was made an Honorary Canon of the Basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome last December, he proposed a “positive secularism” that “does not consider religions a danger, but an asset.” He was even more provocative in declaring that “the schoolteacher will never be able to replace the priest or the pastor” in teaching the difference between good and evil.

In Saudi Arabia last month, he infused his speech with more than a dozen references to God, who, he said, “liberates” man. He also said last month that it was a mistake to delete the reference to “Europe’s Christian roots” from the European Constitution.

In France, a country where one’s religion is typically kept private, Mr. Sarkozy heralds his religious identity, referring publicly to his Jewish grandfather and wearing his Roman Catholicism on his sleeve.

“I am of Catholic culture, Catholic tradition, Catholic belief, even if my religious practice is episodic,” he wrote in a book of essays in 2004. “I consider myself as a member of the Catholic Church.”

Well, France's 'secularists' and 'political opponents' set off alarms about all this, and eventually started blaming the United States:

Other analysts blamed the confessional approach of the United States for infecting Mr. Sarkozy’s thinking. “Listen, it’s in the air of the times,” said Régis Debray, the philosopher and author, on France Inter radio Friday. “There is a religious sentimentality, a pretty vague religiousness, let’s say, in the world of show business, in the world of business, that comes from America. It’s the neoconservative wave of the born-agains.”

I can see why many in France might be uncomfortable with all this. I wouldn't want any US president dictating what should be taught in schools; that's a legislative action that ought to be made more by educators and parents, not politicians. Yet, I admire Sarkozy for not hiding his religious life from the world. He doesn't claim to be a perfect Catholic (who is?), but he acknowledges the positive role faith plays in his life and can play in society. Religion can be an asset, it can liberate, and it is at the root of much that is good in history and society.

And yes, religion can bind and suppress, it can be a drag on public policy, and many have suffered violence and tyranny in the name of this-or-that religion. That is also part of our history and our heritage. Like every other social movement, religion cuts both ways.

For those leaders and politicians who are religious, there is a fine line between religion that informs their decisions and religion that dictates their decisions. Hopefully, Sarkozy is tending towards the former and not the latter; and I hope the same holds true for our next US president.

Working through the changes

I've had a theory lately that Catholicism will get a boost as the Vatican 2 and post-Vatican 2 generations age and make way for the younger generations. The Vatican 2 generation is those who came of age during Vatican 2, and they are age 47 to 64 now. The post-Vatican 2 generation is my generation, those aged 26-46. The next generation down the line is the Millenial generation, aged 18-25.

CARA recently did a survey, reported on by Catholic News Service, where they mentioned how these various groups viewed the church's rules on marriage:

The survey report divided respondents into four generational groups: the pre-Second Vatican Council generation, ages 65 and over in 2007, who made up 19 percent of the respondents; the Vatican II generation, ages 47-64, 31 percent; the post-Vatican II generation, ages 26-46, 40 percent; and the millennial generation, ages 18-25, 10 percent.

"Agreement with church teachings is ... often relatively high among the oldest Catholics. ... To a lesser extent this is also true of the millennial generation," the report said. "Agreement with church teaching is sometimes lowest among the generation of Catholics who came of age during the changes associated with Vatican II and among post-Vatican II-generation Catholics."

Agreement with the church is highest in the old folks and the young folks; those of us in the middle are still battling and arguing about those issues. I've noticed this in different studies that I've read about, and I've seen it with my own friends and family members. It just goes to show how disruptive change can be, and how long it takes to work its way through a group of people.

Enlighten our hearts

I read in a few places (here's one) the past couple days about peoples' reactions to changes the pope made in one of the Easter prayers used in the Latin mass. The reformulated prayer calls for Jews' hearts to be enlightened so that the may acknowledge Jesus Christ. Understandably, some Jewish leaders are kind of upset about that; they were expecting a different reformulation, probably something closer to the current version of the 1970 missal: "Let us pray for the Jewish people, the first to hear the word of God, that they may continue to grow in the love of his name and in faithfulness to his covenant."

And so Cardinal Kasper is trying to make the best of this, essentially saying we cleaned up some of the more offensive terms in the prayer but we still have to be true to who we are as Christians by praying for Jews to acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah. But heck, why stop with the Jews? Why not add Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists to the prayer? And the atheists and animists, why not?

Well of course we Christians want everyone to join us! This is an evangelistic religion after all, it's part what we're called to do. But, how we do that makes a lot of difference. And I don't believe the changes to the Latin Easter prayer are the right way to accomplish any sort of evangelization or conversion because they are not respectful.

Explicitly calling out one group for conversion seems like an unhealthy preoccupation. Why get stuck on the Jews? Why not call for the conversion of all people? I can understand why Jews would be upset about this.

May all our hearts be enlightened this Lenten and Easter season, regardless of where we worship, or if we worship at all. A truly heart-felt enlightenment will call us to deeper mutual respect and acceptance. As someone once said: 'love your neighbor'. Inherent in love is respect.