A Sign Of Peace

Let Us Offer To One Another…
I was at mass when Monsignor turned to us and said “Let us offer to one another a sign of peace.”

Peace.

Some extended hands to each other, while others hugged. I wondered, what does it mean to offer a sign of peace? Is that what a handshake is? Or a hug? Or is there something more about “Peace”?

When you think about it, shaking hands or hugging someone shows that, at some level, your are in relationship with that person. Enemies don’t shake hands. Or hug each other. Shaking hands with someone communicates to him “I have some measure of relationship with you.” Or it can communicate “ I WANT to have some measure of relationship with you.”

Peace is all about relationship. Relationship with self, with others and with God. That’s why I believe peace begins and ends with God.

The Hebrew word for peace is  ‘shalom’, which means “covenant relationship with God.” Think about that. To be in covenant relationship with God means he does his part and we do ours — right relationship. And the fruit of right relationship is shalom- peace.

Being in right relationship with God means that there is nothing between us. That’s the fruit of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Remember, when Jesus died, “the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom.” (Mark 15:38) This meant that the Holy of Holies, which, up until then, was accessible only to the High Priest, was laid open to all thru Jesus. That means God is now available to us.

In Hebrews 4:16, reminds us to “…confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.(Hebrews 4:16). Access to God is laid open by the redemptive act of Jesus.

So when we extend our hands as a sign of peace, we are saying “There’s nothing between us. We are in right relationship”.

In fact, Ephesians 2: 13-14 says:

“But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have become near by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace he who made both one and broke down the dividing wall of enmity, through his flesh,…

Do you see that? Jesus is our peace - our right relationship. As one Body in Christ, we are drawn together by Jesus, OUR Peace. No wonder the Psalmist proclaims “I will hear what God proclaims; the LORD —for he proclaims peace.” (Psalm 85:9)
“Blessed Are the Peacemakers”
So Jesus sent the Twelve out, two by two,

“and gave them authority over unclean spirits.
He instructed them to take nothing for the journey
but a walking stick—
no food, no sack, no money in their belts.
They were, however, to wear sandals
but not a second tunic. “ (Mark 6:8-9)

Basically, Jesus extended His authority to the Twelve as ambassadors of His Kingdom. (2 Cor 5:20) His instructions said “Trust God to meet your needs as He meets my needs.” “So they went off and preached repentance.” (Mark 6:12)

Repentance. A call to return to right relationship with God. That’s what Jesus was all about. That’s why He came. To call us and provide us the way to return to right relationship with God.

We are called to do the same. Blessed are the Peacemakers. We could say this another way:

Blessed are the ones who lead others back to right relationship with God.

So we each reach out a hand and a heart — in our church, in our families, in our workplaces…wherever we are — and call others into right relationship with God.

That, I believe, is a sign of peace.

Understanding & Achieving Spiritual Maturity

In 2001, Christian artist Stephen Curtis Chapman released his song –
God is God. In it, he humbly admits:

God is God and I am not
I can only see a part of the picture He’s painting
God is God and I am man
So I’ll never understand it all
For only God is God

God is God. And I am not.

To embrace this is to begin to understand true humility. I’m not talking about that kind of false humility and piety that annoys everyone around you. I’m talking about knowing who you are in God. This was my first glimpse at spiritual maturity.

Spiritual maturity is certainly not about “arriving” at a state of holiness and sanctity. It’s much more organic than that.

• Spiritual maturity is about being firmly established in your relationship with God.
• It’s about being comfortable with the fact that He is God and you’re not.
• It’s also about being able to hear what He says about His will for you and your life.
• It’s about abiding in him because we understand His will for us.
• Finally, spiritual maturity is about sharing this Good News with those around you.

Spiritual Maturity is All About Relationship.

Relationship with God is fairly simple. Anyone can do it.

Really.

Jesus gives us a clue to the simplicity of relationship in Jesus gives us a clue to the simplicity of relationship in Luke 6:46-49:

“Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ but not do what I command? I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, listens to my words, and acts on them. That one is like a person building a house, who dug deeply and laid the foundation on rock; when the flood came, the river burst against that house but could not shake it because it had been well built. But the one who listens and does not act is like a person who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the river burst against it, it collapsed at once and was completely destroyed.”

The key here is verse 47:
I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, listens to my words, and acts on them.

Three simple steps:
Come
Hear
Act (Obey)

Simple. So relationship with God looks like this – We come, we listen and we obey. This leads to a firm foundation against the storms and floods of life.

Obstacle Course of Relationship

Unfortunately, we face obstacles to relationship. The primary issue that confronts us is the mixture of truth and lies we develop about God and ourselves. And because we believe this mixture to be true, we act accordingly.

This mixed bag of ideas and understanding comes from our experience of our families, friends, our churches, the media and other influences from our childhood through adulthood. Whether we grew up in stable families or abusive situations, these all form the foundation from which we relate with God.

Our challenge, then, is to sift through the lies and uncover the truth about who God is and who we are. And live there.

Of course, this is so easy to say and often too difficult to do. That’s why we have church. And sacred scripture. And the sacraments. These help us draw near to God and hear his voice. These help us live peacefully in the truth of who we are in God.

Zac Smith understood this completely. A young, thirty-three year old husband and father of three, Zac was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer in May of 2009. Unfortunately, the cancer did not respond to chemotherapy and was inoperable due to the diminished state of his liver. Doctors could not offer him any hope.

In an video interview, Zac explained that he found comfort in Matthew 7:11:

If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good things to those who ask him.

Zac concluded that God could give no bad gifts – even cancer. And because of this understanding, Zac explained

“This I do know. If God chooses to heal me, then God is God and God is good. If God chooses not to heal me and allows me to die, God is STILL God, and God is STILL good. To God be the glory.”

Even in the face of insurmountable odds and the prospect of leaving his young family without their father, Zac found a way to come into God’s presence, listen to God’s will and to obey God with his whole heart and his whole life.

Because God is God.

That was enough for Zac, who went home to his beloved Father in heaven on Sunday, May 16, 2010. And it should be enough for us too.

Because God is God. To God be the glory.

The Truth About Lying

We’ve all done it.

I know I have.

What is it?

Lie. Tell an untruth. Speak false-ism.

Ask some people, and they’ll tell you it’s OK to tell a white lie every once in awhile. I disagree. A lie is a lie is a lie. I’m not saying I’m perfect or haven’t told the “white lie”, because I have. However, I cannot think of a time when a lie is better than the truth.

I had this discussion with someone who contended that white lies can help people feel good about themselves, which can’t be bad, she argued.

“So” I asked, “if someone asks you if they look good in a mini skirt when in fact that look hideous, you believe that saying ‘Yes’ would be better than telling them they don’t look good?”

“Yes” she said. “People need to feel good about themselves. Why should I make someone feel bad.”

At face value, her point of view seems reasonable. Who doesn’t want to feel good? Or, more succinctly, who wants to make someone feel badly about themselves? I know I don’t.

What happens if we take this idea and run with it? What if a heroin addict comes to me and asks “Do you mind if I shoot up?” Not wanting to make them “feel badly”, I could lie and say “Sure.” Yeah, that makes sense. (sarcasm here)

OK, that’s a ridiculous example. Let’s say I ask my wife if a certain shirt makes my ample belly look…big. She could lie and say “No”, which means I would wear the shirt and ‘feel good’ about how I look. Even if the my belly looks bigger than Santa’s and Luciano Pavarotti’s combined.

So, as I walk down the mall “feeling good”, the truth remains that people will snicker and laugh at how ridiculous I look. And if I see people laughing at me, then I no longer feel good AND my ability to trust my wife becomes undermined.

The problem with lying, whether a white lie or any other lie, is that trust must be compromised. When we lie to another, the trust in our relationship becomes weakened. Honesty builds trust in a relationship. Lying breaks it down.

Heck, when we lie to ourselves, our personal integrity becomes weakened. It becomes easier to avoid the truth. Why do we do it? Because the truth sometimes hurts. It takes guts to look at our shortcomings and weaknesses. But if we can’t be truthful with ourselves, we cannot stretch and grow.

I think, though, the biggest problem with lying is this: It’s the easy way out.

To look someone in the eye and tell them the truth, even if it will sting or just outright hurt, requires a deep commitment to relationship AND a strong measure of love. Along with heavy doses of mercy and compassion.

I’ve had my wife ask me if a pair of jeans made her bottom look big. My reply was “I love you but those jeans don’t.” I love my wife and wanted her to feel good about how she looked but I also wanted her to know the jeans were unflattering. What I said to her was truth … spoken in love.

That’s where telling the truth is difficult. To speak the truth is a measure of love. Love for yourself and love for the people around you.

For example, what if my friend falls into sexual sin with his girlfriend. I’m sure he feels good. However, to let him continue in sin compromises his relationship with God, with his girlfriend, with you, and ultimately, with himself.

Sure, to correct my friend of his sin would be uncomfortable for both of us, even though premarital sex is widely accepted and even expected. But the love of Christ compels me to speak the truth because there is much more at stake here than his “good feelings”.

Jesus was truth personified. All he said and did was a measure of God’s immense love for us. Even if it meant pointing out our sin. And our need forgiveness.

Jesus is the Truth. In Him, we find God’s love, mercy and compassion. The truth is, truth requires these three things — love, mercy and compassion. Which means, when we lie, we have given up some measure of love, mercy or compassion, or all three.

I’m just saying.

Some Moments Stay With Us Forever

I was sitting on my bed, trying to figure how to get everything done that needed doing, when my eyes noticed the framed picture on my wife’s bedside table. In it, my then seven year old daughter is riding piggy back on my wife. They are both laughing and smiling.

The frame has an engraved caption, which says “Some moments were made to stay with us forever…”

As I read it, I remembered a day when my daughter was seven years old. She sat in the living room, with her crayons, coloring books and pieces of paper. Seeing me, she called out.

“Look at me daddy! I’m coloring pictures!”

I’m embarrassed to say, I blew her off. Didn’t even respond. I think I even muttered “Who cares?” All she wanted was for her daddy - for me - to look at her and SEE her. Instead, she got ignored. Again.

Some moments stay with us forever.

If there was a picture of that moment on my bedside table, my frame would say “Epic Fail”.

Which might explain why my nineteen year old daughter moved last month, seventeen hundred and ninety seven miles away.

Can you blame her?

We all have moments like this. Moments that dog us with the immensity of our failure. Memories that tug at us from within the silence between heartbeats, reminding us of our stupidity, our selfishness, and whatever else we so desperately try to hide, behind the shadows of our smiles.

Of course it doesn’t help that the enemy of my soul constantly reminds me of these shortcomings, hamstringing me in the shame and guilt of my failures.

Which usually leaves me feeling grumpy. And abused. And just plain miserable.

Like the psalmist,

“My iniquities overwhelm me, a burden beyond my strength.
Foul and festering are my sores because of my folly.
I am stooped and deeply bowed; all day I go about mourning.
My loins burn with fever; my flesh is afflicted.
I am numb and utterly crushed; I wail with anguish of heart.” (Ps 38:5-9)

So what do I do? How do I reconcile this conflict in my heart, between my emotions, my intellect and my will? How do I live in faith when my feelings leave me believing that I’m the only Christian I know certain to burn in hell?

This is about the time when a tall bottle of whiskey looks attractive.

I must admit, some days are better than others. Some days, I laugh at my enemy as I remember God’s promises, such as:

“The favors of the LORD are not exhausted, his mercies are not spent;
They are renewed each morning, so great is his faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22-23)

God’s mercy and forgiveness are renewed each morning. Filled up to the top. Again. Which means I cannot out sin God’s mercy.

Or I remember this:

“As far as the east is from the west, so far have our sins been removed from us.” (Ps 103:12)

Can you get any farther than that?

In this way, my intellect balances out my emotions, reminding me of the Truth - God is merciful, slow to anger and abounding in kindness. Yeah, that’s from Scripture too.

Other days, my emotions are just too much for my poor intellect. My thinking simply gives up and joins in the shame game, reasoning away anything that might give me comfort or peace. Emotion and reason, being unreasonable.

Those days, I just have to choose to believe God and what He says. I choose to accept as truth that God is merciful and that I am forgiven. I choose to believe that God can redeem, heal and restore my daughter’s heart, in spite of the wounds I inflicted.

Even when I don’t feel it. Even when it makes as much sense as a bicycle with no wheels. Sometimes, I just have to choose to take God at face value. Which, at times, seems like trying to grab hold of smoke.

Or hang on to a daughter when she runs halfway across the country.

She called a couple of weeks after she moved. Told us she found a church just a few minutes walk from her apartment. So she went to mass. And called to tell us about it.

A few days later, she called and asked how to make meatless lasagna, since it was Friday during lent.

Last week, she phoned my wife and left a mysterious message. “Call me as soon as you can. I HAVE to tell you something!” My wife called.

“Hi honey. You called?”
“Yeah mom. I have to tell you something.”
“What’s up?”
“Some new neighbors moved in upstairs. They’re really involved with the young adult group at church. They invited me to come with them and check it out. I think I’m gonna go.”

God gets it. He sees what’s going on and transcends our hearts and our history. Overwhelms us with his abundant love.

And demonstrates that He is present.
Right now.
Listening.

Some moments stay with us forever.

Walking The Line

At my son’s high school, the main student parking lot is across the street from the school. Students must cross the street to get to the school. Unfortunately, to drop our son off, we must turn right at the same corner the students cross.

This is where I go crazy.

Most of the students do not cross the street in a straight line. Instead, they come about two thirds of the way across the street, then angle to the left, toward the gate they must enter. Because they take the angle, they remain in the street longer. This, of course, forces us to wait longer before we make our turn. Which tends to frustrate me in the hustle and bustle of getting everyone to school and work.

I’ve spoken with some of these students and they all believe one thing: Crossing at the angle gets them to the curb and the gate faster.

From the student’s viewpoint, their reasoning seems logical. That is, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Since they want to get to the gate, turning toward it while crossing the street saves them some steps. However, as they do so, they miss the consequences of their actions. They miss the frustration and delay they cause the drivers trying to turn right at the corner. And they expose themselves to danger.

All this got me to thinking about my walk with God.

You see, walking with God is like crossing the street. If you stay within the crosswalk and cross with the light, you get across safely and quickly. But if you wander off at an angle outside the crosswalk, thinking you’re taking a shortcut, you walk out of your protection. Which means you can get hurt more easily.

Too often, I have fallen into the temptation of taking the shortcut, thinking it would be OK.

Skipping morning prayers.
Watching that questionable programming.
Visiting websites best left alone.

More often than not, when I tried walking outside of God’s purpose for my life, I got into trouble. That’s the thing. I can choose to walk in the crosswalk of God’s merciful plan for my life, or I can meander outside the protection of His grace.

Staying in the crosswalk gets me to where I’m going, quickly, within His protection. Angling outside of his path exposes me to danger, potholes, obstacles and oncoming traffic.

I know, this seems so fundamental, even juvenile. But how often do we go our own way, thinking that we’ll get there faster or easier, only to find ourselves in trouble, or worse, in dangerous circumstances? The crosswalk is there for a reason; to protect us as we cross a dangerous place.

I recently faced a severe time crunch on a looming project deadline. I had three hours to complete a video for a trade show. However, my client wanted me to make changes to an animation within the video. To do this, I would have to recreate the animation elements, then re-edit the special effects for the animation. These changes would require two hours of work.

I was tempted to try and cut some corners in order to make things move more quickly. However, when I thought about it, I figured out my shortcut would actually take longer than the expected two hours. I took a few moments to pray, asking God for a solution.

He delivered.

In the pressure of the moment, I had overlooked a simple solution. Since the only thing changing were some colors in the elements, I could replace the elements without having to redo the effects. What I had figured would take me two hours only took me twenty minutes. All because I took a moment to ask God to show me the way.

God’s plan and purpose for our life is there for a reason; to protect us as we move through this life. So stay the course; walk the walk; follow where He leads.

It really is that simple.

Haiti: Where is God?

Haiti.

“Why did God do this?”

“Where was God when this happened?”

Besides the physical crosses that the residents of Haiti are now burdened with carrying, I can’t begin to imagine what the survivors of this disaster are suffering in their hearts. What are their priests giving to them in response to these demanding questions? I can only pray that they can find the right words but I’m certain that their answers are spoken through shared tears and hugs rather than in homilies.

It’s a delicate thing, attempting to answer these questions so close to the fact. You can’t tell the Haitian mother holding the cold body of her child in her arms that she’s wrong for asking such questions or even that she’s asking the wrong questions. They’re exactly the right questions. And they don’t signify a crisis of faith but rather a crisis of understanding. The answers given in response though, aren’t often always the right answers. Our first parents knew the right answers, if only because of experience. Eve knew where God was even as she cried over the lifeless body of Abel in her arms. And Mary, the new Eve, knew exactly where God was as she pressed her cheek against the Sacred but silent Heart of her only Son. Yet it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

When men destroy, be it lives or property, it is possible, naively maybe, to place blame upon them that they do so because they are evil. But when it is not men but “nature” that destroys, who is to blame? Not nature; it is certainly not evil. If not nature, then who?

We live in a fallen world. Pain is not new. Suffering is not new. But each time a tragedy befalls us, it is new to us individually and we have to make sense of it once again.

Father Walter Ciszek was an American Jesuit who spent twenty-three years trapped in the prisons and gulags of the Soviet Union, enduring unspeakable torments and experiencing first-hand the brutal depravities of our world. During his long trial, he began to gain an understanding of how God relates to us in times of upheaval – that He alone must be our ultimate hope and sole source of support:

“We go along, taking for granted that tomorrow will be very much like today, comfortable in the world we have created for ourselves, secure in the established order we have learned to live with, however imperfect it may be, and give little thought to God at all.

“Somehow, then, God must contrive to break through those routines of ours and remind us once again, like Israel, that we are ultimately dependant only upon Him, that He has made us and destined us for life with Him through all eternity, that the things of this world and this world itself are not our lasting city, that His we are and that we must look to Him and turn to Him in everything. Then it is, perhaps, that He must allow our whole world to be turned upside down in order to remind us it is not our permanent abode or final destiny, to bring us to our senses and restore our sense of values, to turn our thoughts once more to Him – even if at first our thoughts are questioning and full of reproaches. Then it is that He must remind us again, with terrible clarity, that He meant exactly what He said in those seemingly simple words of the Sermon on the Mount: Do not be anxious about what you shall eat, or what you shall wear, or where you shall sleep, but seek first the kingdom of God and His justice…

“Mysteriously, God in His providence must make use of our tragedies to remind our fallen human nature of His presence and His love, of the constancy of His concern and care for us. It is not vindictiveness on His part; He does not send us tragedies to punish us for having so long forgotten Him. The failing is on our part. He is always present and ever faithful; it is we who fail to see Him or to look for Him in times of ease and comfort, to remember He is there, shepherding and guarding and providing us the very things we come to count on and expect to sustain us every day…”

So, where then is God in this?

Praying before a statue of the Pieta right after news of the earthquake, the Archbishop of New York, Timothy Dolan, answered half of this question in the most profound theological terms: “Haiti is the broken, bloodied body of Christ.” In other words, God is right there. We are witnessing Him, right before us. In every person still holding on to life beneath the bricks of a fallen building, He is there. In every one of the one million children now left orphaned, He is there. In every one of the countless homeless wandering through the incomprehensible piles of corpses, He is there. In every husband, desperately trying to find a cup of water for his parched wife, He is there. Yes, we all have a share in the Resurrection, but as a race redeemed, we also all sometimes take part in His Passion. Christ scourged. Christ crucified.

The other half of the answer to the question should now be obvious. He is in every soul who stoops to give succor to that “broken, bloodied body” that is Haiti. He is in the volunteers that are feeding the hungry and burying the dead. He is in the priests delivering the Sacraments to the sick and dying. He is in the nuns stroking the cheeks of the broken-spirited. He is in the policemen and paramedics that tirelessly sift through the rubble, listening intently for sounds of life. He is in the doctors that have dropped their practice to fly off to stitch wounds and set broken bones. He is in the pilots and captains and truckers who have donated their services to deliver food and medicine. He is in the factory worker who has taken his vacation savings and given it to the special collection at his church. He is in the college student who has taken up a collection of shoes to be donated. He is in the prayer-warriors around the world that haven’t ceased reciting rosaries and chaplets of Divine Mercy for mitigation of the agony of that land.

Where is God?

He is in us, in the hearts of us all, and He’s urging us to act.

Great Expectations

Tension ran high during the final seconds of the match as the home team made one last, desperate push toward the goal. Down one to nil, they needed the equaliser or the match was lost. The home team expected their two prolific forwards to come through again.

Both players charged toward the goal, defenders desperately trying to stop the inevitable. The hometown hero drove hard down the left into the 18-yard box, blasting a shot toward the right corner. The sweeper brilliantly deflected the shot toward the middle, only to have the hometown center put a curving shot toward the left corner.

The diving goalie fisted the ball to the left and into the waiting chest of the hometown midfielder, who cushioned the ball to the ground and fired at the goal. The ball smacked the post and bounced harmlessly away toward the corner as time expired. The only sound in the stadium was the whooping cheers of the visitors.

The home town fans expected one of their two great forwards to tie the match. The action in front of the visiting net made a score seem likely. When the mid-fielder took the shot, every fan in the stadium stood, expecting - knowing - that the equaliser was about to be scored. Imagine the deep disappointment when what seemed likely faded away into a scenario never considered.

During this Advent season, I find myself facing a scenario I never considered. The prevailing economic conditions here in the U.S., my continued unemployment and other circumstances weigh heavily in my life. I never expected to find myself in this kind of situation. I had hoped to find work quickly after graduating school last year. More often than not, I feel like the mid-fielder, having kicked the ball off the post. Things look kinda bleak, if I’m to be honest with you. Which is why my expectations surprise me a little bit.

You see, I find myself, surprisingly, not too worried about my economic status. In fact, I am remarkably peaceful on these things. God continues to provide for my family’s needs, so I gratefully count my blessings. But this isn’t why I’m surprised. I’m surprised because there is in me this deep, deep expectation that God will show himself to me in a way I haven’t known before.

For a time, this was, for me, like the pained silence after the missed kick off the post. Hopes and dreams shattered in a moment, leaving only the bitter taste of defeat. Still, I began to hear things again, like an old familiar melody. The are birds singing, even though it’s winter. The wind is dancing through the trees while they clap their empty fingers in rhythm. Someone is laughing, off in the distance. I can even hear my own heartbeat from time to time. Amid this music, playing within the silence, I am surprised by the simple joy within me as I look for Him.

I expect to hear His voice call out to me and see His smile as he warmly embraces me. I expect to sit with Him and speak with Him and hear what He has to say about the things going on today. I expect to encounter Him in prayer and in the Word. I expect to embrace Him fully in the Eucharist, and see to His needs in the poor and the hungry. I expect to find Him in the unlikeliest of places and hope to see Him when I least expect Him. I look for Him around every corner and scan for Him amid the faces in the crowd. Like the deer that pants for living water, I am delightfully surprised that my soul, my heart, and all that is within me is aching with a deep, deep longing for Him. I just want Him. I even think I am beginning to understand when the woman said “If I could only touch the hem of His garment…”

So I wait. With great expectations.

The Process

Not long ago, I heard a radio interview with Mike Kryzewski, the head coach of Duke University basketball. In it, he talked about some of the great athletes of our times and how they got that way. Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Muhammad Ali (although he of course also became famous for other things), these were men who were specialized in doing one thing - playing a game. They became great at what they did and reached the pinnacle of success. But these men transcended the American niche market to which they were initially confined. From New York to Beijing to the tiniest atoll in the South Pacific, it’s a task to find someone who hasn’t at least heard their names.

But how did they get to this pinnacle?

The natural inclination is to assume that they were given gifts that others just don’t possess. Maybe in a sense, but not necessarily, because there have been many, many others whose physical skills and abilities were far superior and yet they didn’t meet the full potential of their gifts. The great ones don’t take their gifts for granted.

The great ones rise to the top, as Coach Kryzewski pointed out, by embracing the “process” of greatness.

This isn’t a significantly original thought but it is one that is often and easily neglected. The reminder of it is important.

We can see the greatness of Michael Jordan hitting the buzzer-beater in the finals, of Tiger Woods doing the impossible at the Masters, and of Muhammad Ali playfully dodging every punch thrown his way. What we don’t see is the process they went through to be able to do this with what seems effortless ease.

The great ones suffer like no others.

“Good enough” isn’t good enough.

Hours after his teammates were gone from practice, Michael Jordan was still at the free throw line. Hours before the first tee-time, Tiger Woods is practicing his putts. While his opponent was out on the town enjoying a brevity of success, Ali was in the gym hitting the speed-bag.

When they aren’t practicing, they are conditioning, developing their bodies and minds to perform together at their peak levels. Every single day, they run, lift weights, and push their bodies beyond the limits. They never give up and they go to bed every night exhausted.
Behind the scenes, when they aren’t on stage, the great ones lives are entirely dedicated to the process. The process of perfection. When the time comes to perform, there is no hesitation.

Focus. Practice. Repetition. And finally, though only temporarily, perfection.

And so it is with us Christians, except in the end, our perfection is made permanent.

We’re all called to be saints. It’s not an option. How easy it is to look upon the lives of our many and varied great saints though, and intimidated say, “Oh, I could never be that way, I just don’t have it in me.” Some saints of course seem to have been born with a special grace but many of them didn’t have it in them either to begin with. What they did have, however, was the humble desire for perfection, born in the love of their Creator. Their desire, like the Mother of God herself, was to simply say “yes.”

Usually in proportion to what they gave to God, He would give back to them. If they gave Him heroic amounts of prayer, in return He would give them a heroic stamina. Think Padre Pio. If they fasted to severity, He would nourish them solely with the Eucharist. Think Jean Vianney. If their spirit waned, He provided the encouragement and patience. Think Mother Theresa.

The greatest saints often saw themselves as the greatest sinners. The closer they came to Christian perfection, the further they realized they were. This didn’t stop them though. They didn’t say “good enough.” They didn’t leave idle the gifts that were given to them and to all of us.

They submitted themselves to the process. They focused on Christ. They practiced their Faith. They repeated their prayers and performed their works. They went to bed each night exhausted. They stumbled too and fell sometimes, but each time appealing to our merciful Lord they began again with renewed vigor. Over and over and over again, never giving up, they committed themselves to our Lord. Through the process, they were perfecting themselves.

When the time came, there would be no hesitation.

Focus. Practice. Repetition. The process for greatness; for becoming a saint.

A Catholic Answer to Paranormal Questions

Do Catholics believe in the Paranormal?

The answer to this is emphatically: That depends.

The absolute core of our Faith as Catholics is the Supernatural.

God, as the creator of all things, is supernatural. He is “above” or “outside” of our created nature. When man was first put on earth, he was endowed with gifts that were beyond everything else in creation, even the angels. These gifts allowed him to partake in the perfection that was “natural” to God alone. His purpose and his destiny were divine.

God also made the angels, perfect creatures of pure spirit with infinite wisdom and an unending vision of their creator. We know that a number of them rebelled and were subsequently and permanently exiled from the presence of God. We know that God’s creation of the angels predates His creation of man, because it was a fallen angel who contributed to the fall of man. We know that angels have a hierarchy and are messengers, guards, guides, and attendants at the throne of God. We know the names of only three. (Everything else we may speak to about angels, and demons, though worthy, is purely theological speculation.)

Besides the supernatural gifts that enabled man, a purely rational creature by his nature, to participate in a God-like life, there were also “preternatural” gifts. These gifts elevated man to the highest “natural” perfection, beyond his very nature and equal to the created angels. From the Catholic Dictionary: “God exempted man from the inherent weakness of his nature … He made man immortal, impassible, free from concupiscence and ignorance, sinless, and lord of the earth.”

When man fell, he lost both the supernatural and preternatural gifts. Through the merits of a redeeming Christ though, and ONLY through the merits of a redeeming Christ, He has restored to man the supernatural gifts which we call grace, both sanctifying and actual, that will allow him to participate again in the inner life of the Blessed Trinity for which he was ultimately created. If he so chooses.

Now, how does any of this answer the question, “Do Catholics Believe in the Paranormal?”

Webster’s defines Paranormal as “not scientifically explainable” and “not understandable in terms of known scientific laws and phenomena.”

How much of the preceding is “explainable” or “understandable in terms of known scientific laws?” In this sense, a Catholic’s belief in the “paranormal” is essential. The stakes of his eternal life are set completely outside of the boundaries of “known scientific laws.” So: CAN we, as Catholics, believe in the paranormal?”

When it comes to the readily accepted examples of paranormal topics, the answer to this becomes fuzzy. Ghosts, UFO’s, Reincarnation, NDE’s, Bigfoot, ESP, Astrology, Tarot, Channeling, Astral Travel, Transcendental Meditation, Visions, Prophecies, Miraculous Cures, Charms, Curses, Crystals, Enneagrams, Labyrinths, etc. Most paranormal topics reach into the occult. The list goes on and on. Yes with caveats to a few, maybe to some, a definite no to others.

But how can the Church dictate what interests a person may or may not pursue? How can an interest in the paranormal hinder salvation?

Let’s focus first on things spiritual. Here’s what the Catechism has to say on just a few topics:

CCC2116 All forms of divination are to be rejected: recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead or other practices falsely supposed to “unveil” the future. Consulting horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, interpretation of omens and lots, the phenomena of clairvoyance, and recourse to mediums all conceal a desire for power over time, history, and, in the last analysis, other human beings, as well as a wish to conciliate hidden powers. They contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone.

CCC2117 All practices of magic or sorcery, by which one attempts to tame occult powers, so as to place them at one’s service and have a supernatural power over others - even if this were for the sake of restoring their health - are gravely contrary to the virtue of religion. These practices are even more to be condemned when accompanied by the intention of harming someone, or when they have recourse to the intervention of demons. Wearing charms is also reprehensible. Spiritism often implies divination or magical practices; the Church for her part warns the faithful against it. Recourse to so-called traditional cures does not justify either the invocation of evil powers or the exploitation of another’s credulity.

“Rejected.” “Gravely Contrary.” “Condemned.” “Reprehensible.”

There’s no room for misinterpretations. They mean what they say. You can’t compare these things to bird-watching. A curiosity is one thing. A belief is another. And an obsession is quite something else. Without care, one easily leads to the next.

The Council of Trent, Rule #9 regarding Prohibited Books, states:

All books and writings dealing with geomancy, hydromancy, aeromancy, pyromancy, oneiromancy, chiromancy, necromancy, or with sortilege, mixing of poisons, augury, auspices, sorcery, magic arts, are absolutely repudiated. The bishops shall diligently see to it that books, treatises, catalogues determining destiny by astrology, which in the matter of future events, consequences, or fortuitous occurrences, or of actions that depend on the human will, attempt to affirm something as certain to take place, are not read or possessed.

(Sortilege and all of the “-ancy’s” listed are forms of divination.)

Pope John Paul II reminded us more gently in his Angelus of September 6th, 1998: “If we want to give good direction to our life, we must learn to discern its plan, by reading the mysterious “road signs” God puts in our daily history. For this purpose neither horoscopes nor fortune-telling is useful. What is needed is prayer, authentic prayer, which should always accompany a life decision made in conformity with God’s law.”

None of this means that future events CAN’T be foretold, though. Saint John of the Cross, a Doctor of the Church, writes about this in Ascent of Mount Carmel: ” … although visions and locutions which come from God are true, and in themselves are always certain, they are not always so with respect to ourselves. One reason is the defective way in which we understand them; and the other, the variety of their causes. In the first place, it is clear that they are not always as they seem, nor do they turn out as they appear to our manner of thinking. The reason for this is that, since God is vast and boundless, He is wont, in His prophecies, locutions and revelations, to employ ways, concepts and methods of seeing things which differ greatly from such purpose and method as can normally be understood by ourselves; and these are the truer and the more certain the less they seem so to us. This we constantly see in the Scriptures. To many of the ancients many prophecies and locutions of God came not to pass as they expected, because they understood them after their own manner, in the wrong way, and quite literally.”

Blessed Anne Catherine Emmerich, one of the most prolific of Catholic visionaries, also made it clear that her prophecies meant nothing outside of what the Church taught: “In spiritual things, I never believe anything except what was revealed by God and proposed for my belief by the Catholic Church. What I saw in visions I never believed in this way.”

Even if a paranormal topic is deemed possible, or believable, or even credible, it doesn’t necessarily follow that a Catholic should devote any time or attention to it. (See Saul’s recourse to the witch of Endor.) Some things are harmless, but others are lethal; lethal not necessarily to your body, but to your soul. And the care of your soul of course falls under the domain of the loving Church. The Church is here to save souls, to ensure that every single one of God’s supernaturally adopted children attains the divine life. It’s mission number one – to make us saints.

It is incumbent upon every Catholic to heed the warnings of the Church and trust in Her wisdom - wisdom that speaks from divine revelation and two thousand years of careful thought. Obedience to Church authority on all matters spiritual is one of the virtues of heroic degree shared by every single saint in heaven. Yet, this obedience is not easy. As Father John Hardin writes: “It is so easy, relatively speaking, to practice obedience towards God as God because we realize after all God is Master of the universe; He is Master of me, what else can I do except obey. The trouble with obedience for most of us is when the one whom we are to obey is a very human, human being and we’re to believe that that terribly human being has the authority from God to either order me or at least direct me, when I may know perfectly well that my way is better.”

This is where it gets to the heart of the matter. With each topic, a Catholic is obliged to look at it in light of their Faith. Is it contrary to Church teaching to believe in it? To practice it? To promote it? And even if the answer to these questions is no, one must still ask one more basic question: Does it point man TO God or AWAY from Him?

Scripture is filled with warnings:

“Dearly beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits if they be of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.” (1 John 4:1)

“Now the Spirit manifestly saith, that in the last times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to spirits of error, and doctrines of devils” (1 Tim 4:1)

“For there shall be a time, when they will not endure sound doctrine; but, according to their own desires, they will heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears: And will indeed turn away their hearing from the truth, but will be turned unto fables.” (2 Tim 4:3-5)

Finally, the Catechism succinctly sums up the Catholic view regarding otherworldly knowledge:

CCC2115 God can reveal the future to his prophets or to other saints. Still, a sound Christian attitude consists in putting oneself confidently into the hands of Providence for whatever concerns the future, and giving up all unhealthy curiosity about it …

Catechisms, Councils, Popes, Saints, and Scripture all are in line on this and what they are unambiguously stating is: Leave it alone.

Our surety lies in the Sacraments and in prayer. Be humble, if God wants you to know the future or He truly has a message He desires to get out, have faith, He WILL take care of it.

She’s Waiting for You too

In addition to the entire month of May, the Catholic calendar contains nineteen universal days set aside to especially honor the Mother of God. September 12^th was the Feast of the Most Holy Name of Mary.

I always particularly love the Marian days but last month was also a sort of anniversary for me. I think it happened on the day before the Feast of the Assumption in 2003. I’m not sure, it didn’t occur to me at the time to mark the date. But that was the day that Mary introduced herself to me. My own Marian feast day of sorts.

I went to bed the night before, feeling bad about myself. In my pride, I had slighted someone undeserving of it. It wasn’t that great of an incident. Just a casual remark, like many I’d made countless times in the past. Such a small, small thing. Something I would say and think nothing of ever again. Yet on this night, I tossed and turned, unable to let the moment go. I realized for the first time that I had actually damaged another person with my words. It hurt.

The meditation with which I had experimented for years wasn’t easing my mind. I tossed and turned. I prayed the Our Father. That was a prayer I would occasionally still recite despite my disbelief in any Christian theory. It was easy and I could mold it to fit whatever I wanted. In a fit of despair, I did something I hadn’t done in probably 20 years. I don’t know why I did it. I was very much against it. I prayed the Hail Mary.

Up until that time, I had lived a life not too much different than most people my age. Maybe I had traveled a bit more. Read a bit more. I was conservative by the standard of the day. Still worldly, rather-selfish. I had dumped the lifeless Catholic Faith I was confirmed in and replaced it with a pursuit of happiness through material things and intellectual stimulation. I wanted to be my own man. I wanted to be free from any constraints – earthly or divine. A structured, rigid, dominating, archaic religion of superstition was the last thing I would brook. I believed in God. “A” god. Impersonal and vague, mostly hands-off. But only I knew what was best. On my checks was printed “I have no master and will never have any.”

Although I didn’t realize it, as I prayed the Hail Mary on that hot August night, I was admitting that I didn’t know what was best anymore. That I needed help. And someone must have fed me the words because I surely had forgotten them.

I don’t remember falling asleep that night but I remember waking up. Sobbing. The sun was up. I remember my heart pounding in my chest and my hands shaking. My first thought wasn’t “what is happening?” but rather “what do I do now?” because the act had already been accomplished. I remember the exhilarating feeling that from now on, nothing would ever again be the same. I remember profound sorrow mixed with profound joy. And I remember – distinctly – the presence of the Holy Virgin.

That presence followed me for weeks. Through my hasty scramble to a church (of course the one I found was the Cathedral of Saint Mary), with me into the confessional, and by my side at my first Mass and Communion since I was a teenager. I never doubted it. It was real and it was normal. She was there, always, pointing me towards her Son. Through her, I came to truly know Jesus. And through Him, the Father.

At first, I thought that what had happened to me was unique. But as I grew in knowledge of my re-found Faith, I realized that my experience was … common. I was amazed to learn of the similarities of my own re-conversion with that of others over the centuries. Instead of lessening the impact of my turnabout, it strengthened it. Mary had made me an active partner, although far too often a silent one, in the history of man’s relation with God. She was just waiting for me to ask.

Mary is known by an almost endless stream of titles: Queen of Heaven, Help of Christians, Comforter of the Afflicted, Mother of Mercy, Our Lady of Good Success, Star of the Stormy Sea, ad infinitum … some great saints have even held her to be the Mediatrix of All Graces. All of her names are given because of her direct intercession, one way or another, into the lives of us all. That’s what she does. Sometimes she’s subtle, like at the Wedding Feast of Cana. And at other times she’s striking, like at Fatima. She was assumed into heaven almost two millennia ago but her tender love for us continues to open our hearts and minds to God’s grace. She is the Mother of God. She is Mary.

May the Most Holy Name of Mary, under whatever title precedes it, be always honored for the faith and hope and love it conveys. Take a small break from your days this week and thank Mary and ask for her intercession.

She’s waiting for you too.

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