Catholicism, holiness and spirituality

What's Your Contribution?

Have you ever had one of those times when you see something new in the old and familiar? Today was one of those days in church. I heard something new in a scripture I've heard countless times. You know the scripture - one spirit, many gifts; one Lord but all sorts of service; many parts but one body - 1 Cor 12:3-whatever.

I suppose part of it is the mental state I'm in these days. Maybe I'm getting old-fogey-ish but people seem so much more selfish these days. It's more and more about me and mine and less about me and my community, however you define 'community'. People seem more reluctant to give a little more to help the common good. So when I heard this, it resonated today:

There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose. Just as a human body, though it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ.

So we're given these gifts, each of us with the gifts that are appropriate for us, for a good purpose. We're all part of one body, where all the parts (ideally) work together to advance the whole. That's a good thing, when all the parts are fully present and working together. It seems to me, though, that too many parts (which means you & me) are working to serve only themselves.

How am I contributing to 'the body' with my gifts? How am I using my time, talent and treasure to make positive contributions to my church, community, and country? Good questions to ponder on a restful Sunday afternoon....

Accepting the disruption of our complacency

Compassion, mercy, love - that's what comes to my mind when I reflect on the Gospel message, the message from Jesus to the world. And that message came through in some surprising ways. It went against the grain, it surprised people, it was unexpected.

Peter and John were delivering the message, and it surprised and shocked the Sanhedrin. Though they could sense the authenticity of the message, the Sanhedrin couldn't afford to accept it so they told everyone 'let's just pretend this never happened.' And then after Jesus rose from the dead - like he told everyone he would - people didn't believe until they saw.

Are we naturally skeptics? Or is it just too easy to get comfortable filtering things through our past experiences? We go to church, we learn the common and accepted ways of worship, belief, community and so on - and then we filter the rest of the world through that lens of acceptability. It's a very human thing to do.

I remember growing up in St Mary's parish in rural Kansas. For most of my childhood we had the same immigrant Irish priest. We did things pretty much the same year after year. Then when I went away to college I experienced a number of other parishes - city parishes, with modern architecture, a priest in a wheelchair, nuns in full habits, and a very active laity. My childhood experiences with Catholicism had focused my mind on a certain way of being Catholic and experiencing the church. And then it changed, it was very different - and still just as Catholic. Years later I would have the same sort of experience joining a Jesuit parish.

So I think the message - compassion, mercy, love - is bound to disrupt our complacency. It really should be sort of revolutionary in that regard. And we can learn to recognize and accept that message. The discomfort we might find in it can be assuaged by the comfort of knowing from who and where that message is coming from.

Accepting the disruption of our complacency

Compassion, mercy, love - that's what comes to my mind when I reflect on the Gospel message, the message from Jesus to the world. And that message came through in some surprising ways. It went against the grain, it surprised people, it was unexpected.

Peter and John were delivering the message, and it surprised and shocked the Sanhedrin. Though they could sense the authenticity of the message, the Sanhedrin couldn't afford to accept it so they told everyone 'let's just pretend this never happened.' And then after Jesus rose from the dead - like he told everyone he would - people didn't believe until they saw.

Are we naturally skeptics? Or is it just too easy to get comfortable filtering things through our past experiences? We go to church, we learn the common and accepted ways of worship, belief, community and so on - and then we filter the rest of the world through that lens of acceptability. It's a very human thing to do.

I remember growing up in St Mary's parish in rural Kansas. For most of my childhood we had the same immigrant Irish priest. We did things pretty much the same year after year. Then when I went away to college I experienced a number of other parishes - city parishes, with modern architecture, a priest in a wheelchair, nuns in full habits, and a very active laity. My childhood experiences with Catholicism had focused my mind on a certain way of being Catholic and experiencing the church. And then it changed, it was very different - and still just as Catholic. Years later I would have the same sort of experience joining a Jesuit parish.

So I think the message - compassion, mercy, love - is bound to disrupt our complacency. It really should be sort of revolutionary in that regard. And we can learn to recognize and accept that message. The discomfort we might find in it can be assuaged by the comfort of knowing from who and where that message is coming from.

Easter thoughts

I've been thinking this afternoon about Easter, resurrection, and complacency. The modern Catholic church - Christianity in general, I think - has become too complacent. The original outlandish and crazy beginnings have fallen pretty flat and lifeless. We've gone from the in-your-face miracle of the resurrection to employing thousands who labor over the details of administering property and investments, or determining that slight changes in liturgy are more proper than what we currently have.

I think a lot of churches have lost track of the crazy miracle of God becoming human, living with us, working miracles, and then being killed as a criminal. We have politicized and commercialized religion - the revolution has gone corporate. When you look at the message of the church and of Jesus, it has something to offend everyone - Republican, Tea Partier, Socialist, Democrat and all the rest. We all tend to pick and choose among the messages, lest the whole thing really take hold and cause too much discomfort.

When you look at your fellow human being and can see Christ in them (and you can, if you are really looking), the craziness of the world becomes all the more apparent. And the message of the Gospel becomes more consistent and clear... and maybe a bit uncomfortable. It goes against society and our self-centered nature. It's crazy, revolutionary, outlandish, and uncomfortable - until, perhaps, we have the courage to see it with new eyes.

Wonderful Ignatian Art

This past weekend I got to see some Ignatian art from our friend Holly Schapker. She spent the past few years working on some paintings that reflect the mission of St Ignatius Loyola - and they are spectacular!

Holly showed the paintings at Xavier University here in Cincinnati - you can read more about them here, watch a video interview of her here, and read an article about her here (which also has some good-sized photos of some of the paintings). The exhibit is titled 'Adsum' which is Latin for 'Here I am' in a literal sense, and in a fuller meaning is 'being in a state of mind where the person is completely available and willing to serve God'. Adsum sounds like something good for us all to aspire to.

It was great talking with Holly and learning more about her inspiration for the paintings. She took a pilgrimage to some of the actual places we hear about in A Pilgrim's Journey - the autobiography of Ignatius. Being in the actual places where some of the major events took place made a big impact. Hopefully some day I can do the same. I'm not a painter, but maybe I could write a bit about it.

She said she wants the exhibit to stay together, and that it might travel to St Louis University next. There is a lot of new building going on at Xavier, and I'm sure there will be plenty of great spaces for her work to find a permanent home there.

Martha... be yourself

Mary and Martha – a story we've heard so many times, and which has been analyzed just as often. When I reflected on it today, I got a new impression from it.

I thought the scene was sort of like the big party we have at our house each summer. We invite a lot of friends and their families over; the kids swim in the pool and play in the yard while the adults pull up chairs and talk... and eat, and drink, and laugh, and talk some more.

Hosting the party has become easier as I've learned to loosen up. These are my friends – many of them know their way around the house, the kitchen and the pantry. I've learned that people don't mind helping themselves, and helping each other. I don't have to do it all, know it all, or worst of all – have it all under control. As a host, I want to create a space for people to be themselves and have a good time. I think that when people are allowed by their host to make themselves at home, it adds to a sense of community and it nurtures relationships.

So I imagined – what would my summer party be like if Jesus showed up? I hope it wouldn't be all that much different. He would mix in with my friends, they would all have some fun conversation and get to know each other a bit more. Jesus would take his turn supervising the little kids in the pool and checking in with the teenagers as it got dark. He might even hang around and help clean-up. It wouldn't be much fun if we ended up with a deck full of Martha's, or a house full of Mary's. The fun and the sense of community comes from each of us and all of us being our authentic selves, taking in the evening, moment by moment, growing in affection and appreciation for each other.

That's the moral of today's gospel reading for me: Hey Martha, chill out, give people the opportunity to help themselves and each other, and enjoy the party. Be yourself and be with others, instead of being something for everyone else. That's why we got together in the first place – to be with each other.

The Challenge of Love, and Progress

'Love one another' – that was the New Commandment. It was simple, it boiled all the other stuff down to a simple concept that the most simple of people could understand. And it continues to be an elegant way of looking at life. If you live life from this perspective, it might not be easier, but it will be better.

So when I was sitting in church last Sunday morning and I heard that line from John's gospel, I couldn't help contrasting that simplicity with all the complexity we've built into churches today. I'm Catholic, after all, and we (collectively, anyway) like rules and have lots of them. We've had a couple thousand years to work on them. Although we have lots of rules, most of us tend to apply them selectively. We sort of filter out what we don't like and then do our best to abide by the remaining ones. Birth control, capital punishment, care for the environment and the poor, and various rubrics & traditions come to mind. Anyone who thinks Catholics unanimously adhere to some monolithic set of rules and beliefs hasn't spent much time around Catholics.

I've never been much of a fan for rules, but I do have a sincere appreciation for principles – and 'love one another' is one hell of a principle. Though I remember learning about all sorts of church rules and clear-cut positions from the Baltimore Catechism and other texts in Sunday School (thanks to Aunt Evelyn, Aunt Millie, Mrs Treiber and Mr Charles!), I actually don't remember most of that now. But from the first time I heard it, 'love one another' made a lasting impression.

I can't think of any situation in life that is made worse by loving one another.

Yet, given the simplicity of the message, countless people have violated it over and over. Even the people who are supposed to be preaching it have ignored it. The draw to love ourselves, manifested by ego, reputation, greed, 'avoiding scandal' and so on, has left scars on people and society through the centuries. I've studied history a bit, and it is amazing to see just how often we really don't learn from our past mistakes.

So some look at that and see religion and the church as full of hypocrites, and that is understandable. Who can count the times that we've preached 'love one another' and then committed all sorts of bad acts? There are some bad, evil people in this world, and some of them are in our churches. However, I think that most people, most of the time, are doing the best they can do with the emotional fortitude they have at the moment. Even at our best, we're not perfect. But, hopefully, we always try or at least are aware of how we miss the mark. In the end, it's not about perfection, but progress. We may never truly be able to love one another consistently, sincerely and with some depth; but I do believe that it matters a lot that we can look back over the past months or years and say that yes, we have loved a bit more than we did before.

The Reluctant Messenger

When I read today's scripture readings, my first impression was 'wow'. Not in the excited, exclamatory way of 'Wow! Those were great!', but in the manner you would use when you realized something uncomfortable yet full of purpose. 'Wow, those readings really spoke to me.'

First, Isaiah sees God and the angels and such, and is appropriately overwhelmed. He doesn't feel worthy to be there, yet he ends up being God's messenger: 'Here I am, send me.' Then Paul talks about how he's the lowliest of the Apostles, and feels some remorse for persecuting the church prior to his conversion. But then he says 'but by God's grace that is what I am.' And finally, when Peter realized just who was in the boat with him, he said 'Leave me Lord, I am a sinful man' – and Jesus replied 'Don't be afraid, from now on it is men you will catch.' Three reluctant messengers of God, all realizing their imperfections. And it seems to me that with all three God said something like 'Don't worry about that, I can work with your imperfections; you are going to do fine.'

Now if I remember correctly, none of these three guys had an easy time proclaiming God's message. They all ran into trouble – mobs, angry political and/or religious leaders, long and hard journeys and so on – a lot of resistance to change and displeasure at hearing the truth of messages that upset the status quo. When they weren't getting thrown out of towns they were often jailed. Some people did catch on to their messages though, and today we view them as successful prophets.

So back to the 'wow' factor... God is calling me, and each of us, to be messengers. I've been reluctant because I'm not perfect, and I don't want to deal with the resistance to the message. But I can see in these scripture readings that God has done this before, and imperfect people have done this before. It's a proven model, just waiting for the reluctant messenger to do his part.

From Patience to Action

Patience is a virtue, but I suppose at some point action is called for. Discerning that point is something we all have to do, and it will be personal. I think I am getting close to that threshold crossing over from being patient to taking action.

I don't watch TV news much at all, save for a few minutes of the local news a few times a week. There's a running story with my inlaws that I am swayed by the 'liberal CNN' while they rely on the 'balanced Fox News'. I find that fairly laughable, since I see it exactly the opposite. My younger son wisely pointed out this week – while inlaws were here defiling my TV by watching Fox News – that everyone thinks they have the fair and balanced version of the news.

The Glenn Beck show was on in the next room as I was preparing dinner. I caught bits and pieces of it, and was dismayed at the tone and content. It's not news, it's conspiracy theory, gossip, and borders on hate-speech that plays on peoples' fears. He has a right to say what he wants, but he doesn't add anything to rational, sober analysis of the nation's news. The show actually drags people further down into fear and suspicion, leading to a reflexive bias against anything that has certain key-words in it. That bias will keep the political debate in the gutter. To be fair to Beck, he's not the only one to have a show like that; and he wouldn't be popular if there wasn't an audience wanting to hear it.

A friend dropped his son off at our house to hang out with my boys for a while. We got to talking about politics, and he said he was starting to become afraid of what 'Obama's health care plan' would do to their medical coverage. There it is again – fear. They get good family coverage via a big-company medical plan, but he's heard from friends that everyone should be afraid of losing coverage, death-panels, and on and on. He's a smart guy, so what's going on!? I made the case for the common good, that health care for all could be good for us all, and that it's just not right for folks to go without basic health care – or filing bankruptcy because they couldn't pay their medical bills. I hope I made sense; I obviously think I do make sense!

In Gospel terms, I think of things like 'love your neighbor', 'the last shall be first', and 'whoever welcomes the little ones welcomes me'. There are more than a few places in scripture that encourage us to have no fear.

Ignoring the plight of others just isn't right. If I have healthcare and can afford to pay my premiums and other costs, yet ignore the fact that so many go without basic care, that's not right. How is that different from ignoring the beaten down guy on the side of the road for fear of getting dirty or assuming someone else will do something? How does that work with 'love your neighbor as yourself'?

Maybe we need to turn off the TV news and spend some time considering 'what would Jesus do?' Maybe we could take to heart the words 'do not fear' that Jesus advised his followers.

The Health Care 'Debate', or 'I' vs 'They'

I like what Peter Maurin wrote years ago – his pithy 'Easy Essays'. I was revisiting some of them today, spurred, I think, by the Labor Day holiday. I don't necessarily agree with all he wrote, and I'm sure he would agree that it's good to have debates about ideas. But, I like the way he approaches a subject; I like the way he thinks and the way he presents an idea.

If he was around today, what would Peter Maurin write about the health-care 'debate'? I'm fairly sure he would write about the emptiness, divisiveness and bias of the current rhetoric, and the responsibility we all have, as a community, to care for the poor. Or perhaps that is just what I would want him to write about. Maybe that's what I want to write about.

There has been so much fear injected into the discussion of health care reform - so much fear that people's initial reaction to any idea on the topic is that of fear and mistrust. That initial reaction poisons any constructive dialog. That fear is fanned-up in people by those whose intentions are to manipulate the public discourse as a means to achieve their goal of opposing the government. It doesn't matter so much what the issue is, as long as it can be used against the current government.  Health care reform is the current issue, but it could be pretty much anything else.

It reminds me of how hot winds can whip a small fire up into a major firestorm. Without the hot wind, the small fire would be contained and we would all see things more clearly.

And this brings me back to Peter Maurin, who had a way of cutting though the smoke and getting some clarity on an issue. One example, from 'They And We':

1. People say:
     "They don't do this,
     they don't do that,
     they ought to do this,
     this ought to do that."
  
2. Always "They"
     and never "I".

That's a good insight, even for today's debate.

The other day I got a chain-email that had a link to a YouTube video of some guy appealing to Catholics by making arguments against the health care reform effort by linking it to socialism, and the church's stance against socialism. The funny thing was that there were elements of truth in most everything he said, but so much of it was taken out of context as to make it very misleading. I had a hard time watching all the way through because it was so manipulative. So then I decided to take a look at what the bishops have to say about health care reform; while I don't always like or agree with them, they are after all the bishops and they deserve to be heard.

On the US Bishops' web site I found their four-part position on health care reform:

• a truly universal health policy with respect for human life and dignity
• access for all with a special concern for the poor and inclusion of legal immigrants
• pursuing the common good and preserving pluralism including freedom of conscience and variety of options
• restraining costs and applying them equitably across the spectrum of payers

OK, that sounds pretty good, reasonable, and gospel-driven. Some bishops are going to be further to the right of this, and some to the left – but for a group statement for assisting Catholics in understanding what the church wants, this is good. I can easily relate this back to 'whatsoever you do for the least of these', 'love your neighbor as yourself', and so on.

I'm not sure where I go from here; I'm fairly certain that it needs to be driven more from an 'I' vs a 'they' perspective. I do know that in the past few years, the cost of my health insurance has more than doubled while the coverage has decreased. My wages certainly haven't doubled, either. I do know people who have gone without health care, and people who have filed bankruptcy because they couldn't pay their health-care bills. I know that in one of the most prosperous and resourceful nations in the world, it isn't right that people go without healthcare or go bankrupt because of healthcare. What I am less certain of is our ability to engage in a constructive process that creates a universal health policy that all can access, that serves the common good while maintaining personal freedom and that fairly distributes the costs of care.