Surprised by Grief

Surprised by Grief

Grief is a tricky thing.

I keep thinking this as the days and weeks have gently rolled by and yet I keep being surprised by it.

Several weeks ago, a man I knew from prison died.

Were we friends? Yes, in a way that I feel inclined to categorize in my head as “prison friends.”

There is almost no chance we would have known each other except for meeting in prison, life and circumstances being so entirely different for each of us. I never quite knew how many of his stories to believe or how to wrap my brain around his understanding of Scripture. I was often unsure what transpired inside his mind, as he would silently survey all and thoughtfully form an opinion which, if asked, would take several minutes to unfurl. How did all of his stories mesh together? What happened in the years he was silent about? How exactly did he end up where he did?

A mystery.

He was very much a mystery to me.

It was in prison that he chose to enter the Catholic Church. At a Saturday evening Mass, he was baptized and confirmed. In a place where touching between inmate and visitor is frowned upon, it was memorable to step up behind him and place my hand on his shoulder as he was confirmed. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to descend powerfully upon him and remain with him even while I also wondered why he picked me as his sponsor.

Over the years, we spent hours talking. He spoke more than I did, but he would remember to follow up about different things in my life about which I had shared. What I was teaching, what I was learning, the paper I was supposed to be writing. He’d share fantastic stories about his youth, about his thoughts on a passage of Scripture, about advice other guys would ask for, about observations about staff and inmates. There was always something formulating, fermenting, bubbling up inside of him.

So it is a bit striking for all of it to stop.

Suddenly.

A surprise death. One which lingered suspensefully for a few days as we sat in the “is he dead or isn’t he?” And even when it was revealed that, yes, he was dead, it was still unbelievable. A memorial Mass was offered and a visit to the gravesite occurred and yet it still seems unresolved. There was a statement from the DOC, a smattering of news reports, and an oversized pile of dirt in a small rural cemetery. But there was no body that I saw, no funeral pictures, no casket, no obituary, no headstone. Just enough to show that he was gone and little enough to force my brain to recognize how absolute it is.

Continue reading “Surprised by Grief” →

God is Not Overwhelmed

God is Not Overwhelmed

God is not overwhelmed.

With the myopia natural to humanity, it can be easy to view the present time as the worst time. Or, depending on your temperament and inclinations, to view the present moment as the very best in history. It is very likely that neither is true and that the present age lies somewhere between those two extremes. The perfect vantage point comes, naturally, from God, who sees what would both heartily encourage us and completely devast us.

God sees and knows all. The innumerable pains which are suffered silently within the hearts of humanity are known utterly by God. Yet He also knows the selfless acts of charity, the hidden conquering of vices, and the small but real ways people chose to love Him and each other. He sees the best and the worst of humanity, the pouring out of the hearts’ treasures and the outpouring of blood, the heroic and the demonic, the veiled humility and the brash pride of the world. I would not want to be Him, even with the ability to see how all of this works for the greatest good of each individual and the world.

And yet, God is not overwhelmed. He is not struck down by the flaws and horrors of humanity. What we did not see coming, He knew before the foundations of the world. What causes us to be overly elated, He takes with a peace which surpasses understanding. There is no plot twist, surprise, or cliffhanger for God. He knows everything and everyone completely.

It is not that He is passive or stoic or even distantly removed from our human drama. No, He is intimately involved with the very flutters of our heart, the little moments which cause a burst of joy or a piercing sorrow. He is not indifferent or unable to be moved by our plight. Rather, He is unable to be overwhelmed. The world He embraced and entered into, He has also conquered. It is sustained by His constant will and we exist through a persistent overflow of love which does not question if we are worthy. The Lord is very near and yet, thankfully, He does not get swept away in a million soundbites or the raging of violence or the bitter divisions which wend their way through the human race. He is a firm foundation, a rock, a fortress, a refuge.

Continue reading “God is Not Overwhelmed” →

Windows to the Soul

Windows to the Soul

I was struck by their eyes.

Glancing around the table for a moment, I saw several pairs of gentle, thoughtful eyes. Creases radiated from the corners, shooting outward toward countenances which had faced much sorrow, misery, and difficulty. Yet, here, in this moment, these eyes were content, hopeful, seeking a fulfillment which had seemed elusive in the past.

I commented with a laugh that one of them looked incredibly intense as he carefully outlined a design on a poster, adding flourishes and details, colorful letters unfolding in a practiced artistic script. Another had kind eyes as he shared a gratitude for life which was a hard-fought accomplishment, a thankfulness borne of recognizing he could easily be dead if circumstances had transpired differently. Yet another had brilliantly dark and quiet eyes, settled into a fiery calm and carrying tremendous depth and treasured secrets.

One after the other, I am peering into pairs of eyes which have seen things I hope to never witness and have sought a hope I, too, fervently desire. Soaking up the moments, the snatches of conversation between sips of coffee and theological ponderings between deft strokes of a marker on posterboard, I found myself incredibly grateful for this glimpse of humanity. I think people wouldn’t believe what we talk about or what these men are like, I thought to myself as I heard them share their stories and answer questions.

The human person is a many layered being. I am not proposing that at this prison retreat there were only men who have completely repented of their wrongdoing or who will live lives on the straight and narrow forevermore. However, where can we look and see such a group of people? Instead, I am continually amazed at how they are taking their situations, brought on by their own choices as well as circumstances outside of their control, and seeking to grow. For some, this means striving for sobriety and personal betterment during their remaining prison sentence before concluding their time or being released on parole. For others, this means wrestling with a life sentence and how they can be involved in their families while incarcerated or seek personal fulfillment within the prison walls.

From the outside, flipping through tv news reports or online articles, it can be easy to simplify humanity. We hear about horrifying and shocking crimes, quickly bemoan the state of society, and want people locked away forever. Yet sitting at a table with them drinking cups of coffee, handing them slices of toast which are only offered on this retreat, watching their eyes fill up with tears as they speak of how they are seeking to be good fathers despite facing a life sentence in prison, and hearing them push themselves to share a story with the group regardless of their nervousness all makes it much harder to categorize them all as “bad” and slam the door shut on them.

Humans are complex and, thankfully, have the capacity for growth and change.

Continue reading “Windows to the Soul” →

This is Life

This is Life

Every now and then, I need to remind myself that this is life. As I wrap up a long day teaching and heft a stack of papers into my work bag (where they will likely remain until I return the following day), I acknowledge that this is life. As I take a few quick days to visit a friend from college and enter into the swirl of activity which is life with young kids, I remind myself, “This is life.” And as the days of summer pass by far too quickly, I consider that this is my life.

Perhaps this stating of the all-too-obvious is something you don’t need to do. However, I find myself needing to do this at various times. It seems imperative to call to mind that I am living, that this is my life, and that I only have one chance at this. Sometimes this is a cause for concern, other times one of encouragement, and yet other times it is a good reality check. This is my life regardless of how different it is than what I expected and I need to make the most of this one chance.

If my life was filled with raising young children, I think it would be more obvious how time passes. Not that I would have all of this idealistic time to consider it, but children have the odd habit of growing, changing, and forcing you to acknowledge that they aren’t what they once were. As adults, this seems to be a bit harder to pay particular attention to since the changes are more gradual and can slip by quietly. So sometimes I need to call to mind that time is passing and, what’s more, that this time is precious and won’t come again.

Continue reading “This is Life” →

A Mountain of Meaning

A Mountain of Meaning

Writing a story or a novel is one way of discovering sequence in experience, of stumbling upon cause and effect in the happenings of a writer’s own life. This has been the case with me. Connections slowly emerge. Like distant landmarks you are approaching, cause and effect begin to align themselves, draw closer together. Experiences too indefinite of outline in themselves to be recognized for themselves connect and are identified as a larger shape. And suddenly a light is thrown back, as when you train makes a curve, showing that there has been a mountain of meaning rising behind you on the way you’ve come, is rising there still, proven now through retrospect.
-“One Writer’s Beginnings” by Eudora Welty

I had an experience which relates to this quote from Eudora Welty but which is perhaps true in the reverse. In a conversation with someone I don’t know very well, I was posed the question about why I’ve remained Catholic and faithful to the way I was raised. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this question, but I think I’m never quite equipped to answer the question well. There are so many things to say and yet I am uncertain what to peg as the reason I am still Catholic.

The short answer, I suppose, is the mysterious working of grace. How can I account for that which is unquantifiable, incalculable, and unknown? The prayers which have been prayed for me, the sacrifices offered on my behalf, the ways I’ve unknowingly responded to grace, the particularities of my personality, the effect of others’ words or actions, and far more have all had an impact on my heart and my life of faith. How can I offer a quick response? How can I even fully know why I still adhere to the sacramental life, why I find the lives of saints so fascinating, why I continue to follow Jesus when many people in similar situations or with relative experiences have not?

And yet here was someone asking a question and since he had not exactly remained in the faith of his childhood, it seemed more important to offer some sort of authentic response instead of just shrugging my shoulders and saying, “God is mysterious.”

Continue reading “A Mountain of Meaning” →

What it says about me

What it says about me

The inner response I have to the actions of another has more to say about me than the other person. I think I came to this realization over the past couple of days and, like many realizations, was a bit disappointing to me even as it was illuminating. It would be far more preferable for the poor behavior or actions of the other to simply be an indictment of their own wavering character or their imperfections. I would feel far better if my students attitudes were able to remain just that and entirely removed from me.

However, in the course of wrestling with the rather petty and immature responses of teens this week, I have come to see that what is awakened in me is, unfortunately, saying something about me and is, generally, the only thing I can deal with in the present. Sure, this student was being intentionally disrespectful, but the disproportionate anger I felt inside was something which surprised me. And it is the only thing I can really, authentically engage with, despite the fact that as a teacher a list of corrections or punishments towards the student could be utilized.

With this realization in mind, I looked at how I had internally responded to the situation. It wasn’t necessarily what I did, but there is a certain truth in our private knee-jerk reactions or what rolls around in our heads when dealing with a troublesome issue. It made me a bit uncomfortable to see what arose when I was challenged, provoked, and dismissed. Then recently in class, I found myself projecting a Scripture passage on the screen for prayer time and my eyes and heart kept catching on, “When he was insulted, he returned no insult. When he was made to suffer, he did not counter with threats.” (1 Peter 2)

Continue reading “What it says about me” →

Aim Higher

Aim Higher

For a while I would joke that I don’t pray for humility as a teacher because it comes to me whether I pray for it or not. And yet, just to prove that life isn’t always as humbling as I may need, the Lord decided to show me that when I pray for things (mostly, it seems, humility) that He delivers what I need, albeit not in the way I want.

On Ash Wednesday, I was listening to a Lenten reflection and prayed along to the Litany of Humility. It is a prayer I love and hate and, probably, need to pray more often. Right on cue, the Lord delivered a humbling situation the following day. A student was giving unsolicited advice about how I might improve his life by not assigning study guides or making him work on it (instead of the math homework he found more pressing) during my class period. I listened for a while, attempting initially to get him to understand that while he might not need it, there are other students who do. The conversation concluded when I recommended that perhaps he pursue a career in teaching since he would be able to be the perfect teacher for students. He, clueless perhaps to the implications because he isn’t really that cruel, commented that he didn’t want to be a teacher but was going to “aim higher.”

I sat there for a moment as a lighthearted moment grew sour.

He didn’t want to be a teacher (which I didn’t really expect to be the deep desire of his heart), but he wanted to “aim higher.”

And it was humbling.

I remembered, annoyed, that just the previous evening I had prayed the Litany of Humility. This is why I don’t pray that prayer, I thought, as I pondered what to do in the wake of a fifteen year old boy telling me my current career choice was way below what he hoped for himself. I sat there at my desk, pride bristling, wanting to offer one of a thousand caustic barbs barreling to the front of my mind. But I didn’t say any of them as I thought, But this probably why I need to pray this prayer more often.

If I were humble, I wouldn’t be annoyed by the careless words of a teenager. I wouldn’t want to offer a bit of my sharpened tongue. I wouldn’t, as a small form of revenge, sidestep answering a question he had on the study guide he just complained about yet which I had thoughtfully crafted as a way to help my students be successful.

And yet I all of these things happened. I was annoyed, I wanted to offer a biting word, and I chose not to give a straight answer to his question.

Continue reading “Aim Higher” →

They Have No Wine

They Have No Wine

“They have no wine.”

It isn’t a question. It isn’t even really an ask.

Rather it is a simple statement from a mother to her son. At the wedding feast of Cana, Mary makes the needs of the wedding couple known to Jesus. But how could He not have already known? Yet she models so beautifully the role of every Christian: to present our needs and the needs of others to the Lord. She does this with simplicity (she doesn’t muddy it up by telling Jesus how to remedy the problem) and full of trust (since her next words are to the servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you.’).

“They have no wine.”

Sometimes I think that I just keep presenting the same thing to the Lord over and over again. While in many ways that is true, there is also a sense in which it isn’t true enough. I am the one who gets tired of asking. I am the one who grows weary with bringing to the Lord that which He already knows better than I do. Unlike Mary, I am less convinced that He will hear my plea and respond generously to me. Instead, I find it necessary to instruct the Lord in how he might fulfill my need. I have the perfect idea for how the Lord might work in my life, if only He would listen.

Jesus, however, is secretive with His plans, hiding from us what the future holds, likely (for nearly all of us) for our own good. He has plans which I cannot fathom, ways to fulfill my longings which I could not guess, even if given thousands of years to do so. And His plans have the benefit of being good and perfect, rather than my own short-sighted idea of what might be good for me.

Continue reading “They Have No Wine” →

You Can Waste It

You Can Waste It

Not too long ago, I was helping with a retreat and someone at the table was commenting about experiencing a cold shower that morning. It wasn’t presented as a major concern, but it was definitely something not desired by the individual. Another person at the table mentioned that he could offer up the cold shower. His reply was, “I don’t want to.” And I, quick with a witty and brisk response, jabbed, “You don’t have to offer it up. You can waste it.”

My own words have kept, for lack of a better word, haunting me over the weeks since that moment. Alongside it is the recurring question, Am I wasting it? Am I wasting my present suffering?

It is incredibly easy to look at someone else’s life and to see the moments when they should choose virtue. While it might take some learning and study, it is simple to offer words of wisdom, guidance for how one ought to live. Yet it is remarkably difficult to choose to accept one’s own wisdom or to live in the way one knows one should. The words which easily rolled out of my mouth have continued to stare back at me, probing me and provoking me, asking if they bear any resemblance to my own life.

I don’t want to waste my suffering.

Yet it seems that to offer up my suffering means I need to really be aware of it and consider it more deeply. If I’m going to offer it to the Lord, I need to recognize it. This, however, it not what I want to spend my time doing. Ignoring the present pain is a bit more comfortable. Instead of staring my longings and unfulfilled desires in the face, I want to avoid them and distract myself with something else. I think I tend to waste my suffering because I don’t want to keep acknowledging it and relating it to the Lord.

Underlying this avoidance of facing my suffering is perhaps the fear that if I keep looking at it, really seeing the tender point of pain and longing, then I might be prone to bitterness. It is already far too easy for my heart to grow bitter, with the Lord or anyone else. I think there is a worry woven into my heart that if I keep seeing this suffering and keep offering it back to the Lord that I will instead just tire of the process and get angry. If I avoid it, the slow-burn of annoyance will maybe just stay in the background. If I continually confront it, who knows what it will become?

Continue reading “You Can Waste It” →

Answering Prayers We Didn’t Pray

Answering Prayers We Didn’t Pray

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, ‘You are lacking one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’

The rich man in today’s Gospel received a beautiful, difficult blessing. He was able to ask Jesus how he could inherit eternal life and then he was told the answer.

It seems, however, that the rich man was hoping for a different response. Perhaps he wanted Jesus to say, “You don’t need to do anything else–you will inherit eternal life.” Or maybe he wanted Jesus to have some small request or some additional rule to follow. Instead, he is invited to follow Jesus after selling his possessions. This does not seem to be what the man had anticipated or he might not have asked Jesus the question. This good news, this call to discipleship which others received with wild abandon, is met with sadness and a disheartened turning away. The rich man asks a question, receives an answer, and then sulks away. How difficult it is to seek and then find that the cost is higher than you are willing to pay!

This is often true for us, too. We want the Lord to provide an answer to a present difficulty. Hoping for guidance and direction, we implore Jesus to show us the way. Yet when an answer, a path, or a gift is offered, we quickly realize it isn’t what we hoped we would receive. His ways and thoughts are far above our ways, yes, but we keep hoping, over and over again, that they will match up. We find ourselves desiring that just once our meticulously crafted and very comfortable plan will be the one the Lord has also been preparing for us. Many times we, like the rich man, ask questions with specific answers in mind or ask for grace but are focused on very particular graces.

Jesus sees this man wholly. He knows him through and through. The deep desires of his heart and the secret dreams and imaginings are known perfectly to the Lord. It is in light of this knowledge that Jesus offers the answer of sell what you have, give to the poor, and follow Me. Jesus doesn’t need more information to offer a better response. He offers the answer which is perfectly crafted for this man’s heart. Jesus looked at him, loved him, and then placed His finger on the very point which needed His attention right then. The Lord invites him to eliminate what separates them and to become His disciple.

Perhaps before every hard thing that enters our life, the same situation unfolds. Jesus looks at us, loves us, and then points to a lack in our hearts. He does this not to hurt us or to unnecessarily grieve us or to cause us to turn away from Him. Instead, it is this abundant love and great knowledge of our innermost being which causes Him to offer us a grace we didn’t ask for and mercies we didn’t expect. They often come wrapped in problems, accompanied by heartache, and bathed in tears. We don’t want them. We generally desire to resist them. And yet they come, through various means and different channels, from the hand of the Lord.

Continue reading “Answering Prayers We Didn’t Pray” →