Tag: Love

To Be Known

To Be Known

After a long hiatus, I was out for a run, breathing in the distinct aroma of campfires in the cool spring evening.  The sun was setting and the sidewalks were essentially empty as I plodded along.  My mind sifted through different thoughts and different prayers.  For a while, it focused on my experience of the gaze of Jesus.

During my recent silent retreat, I was struck by the intensity and the depth of Jesus gazing at me.  I had entered into the story of the woman using her precious ointment for Jesus, but I felt I needed to go into her past more.  What made her go to Jesus and give Him her most precious possession?  To, in the eyes of the world, waste her fortune and her future?  I was drawn back to woman about to be stoned after being found in the act of adultery.  And I became her. Continue reading “To Be Known” →

Bold Claims

Bold Claims

The Lord is the goal of human history, the focal point of the longings of history and of civilization, the center of the human race, the joy of every heart and the answer to all its yearnings. (Gaudium et Spes, 45)

Christianity makes shockingly bold claims.  It does this because Christ made bold claims.  If the Gospel message that you have heard doesn’t ruffle feathers or irk people, then it isn’t the same Gospel that Jesus Christ proclaimed.

Think about how people responded to Jesus Christ.  Numerous times we hear about Jesus being driven to the brow of the cliff, or people picking up stones as He spoke, or people simply becoming angry at His words.  This wasn’t because He told people that they just needed to be nice people.  His words challenged.  His words provoked.  His words called people to look inside themselves and to realize that they could not save themselves.

Though we may accept the Gospel and profess to believe it, if we are honest with ourselves, each must continue to wrestle with the call of Jesus in our lives.  There are still teachings of Jesus that have yet to be fully accepted in our hearts.

And there are bound to be things in his teachings that each of us finds offensive if we look at the totality of those teachings rather than confining ourselves to comfortable and familiar ones. (The Pocket Handbook of Christian Apologetics, p. 60)

For example, Jesus tells us that we are to forgive.  The love of Christ compels us to love and forgive all.  That means the survivors of the Holocaust are to forgive the very people who imprisoned them and took the lives of their friends and family members.  It means the families of those who died in 9/11 are to forgive those who applauded themselves for being the masterminds of the attack.  No, neither of those situations have impacted me in a directly personal way.  But it is the message of Jesus Christ and it is not a message meant simply for forgiving the person who cut you off in traffic or the store clerk who is annoyed that you need her assistance.  The Gospel message is precisely for those moments that seem unforgivable.  It is then that we can recognize that it must be Christ working through us, that grace must be received in order to live out this bold life.

Christianity is not calling us to a life of ease and comfort.  The King of this kingdom was crucified and the Queen watched it all unfold.  Christianity, in its truest sense, is calling us to such a death.  But it is a death that must be experienced so that we may embrace a fullness of new life.  Once we experience that death and new life, the next death doesn’t really matter anymore.  It will be a mere parting of the veil, a stepping into the throne room of the King, entering into the Holy of Holies.  From life we will pass into Life.

With such a reward, it is no wonder that the early Christians were willing to lay down their lives for the sake of Jesus Christ.  They looked upon death with no fear, but rather with joyful anticipation.  Because, in that moment, they recognized that the Gospel of Jesus Christ was for those particularly difficult times.

We cannot accuse Christ of shielding the disciples or us from the realities of what following Him would require.  He is direct and His voice is clear: if we love anything above Him, we will need to re-order our heart, even if the beloved is our family or our own selves.  For Christ, we give all up and we received it back one hundred fold.  I do not claim to have perfected this, but I know there is a tremendous freedom that is found in giving all to Christ.  When my sisters entered the convent, the bitterness I felt was a result of not letting them go or surrendering them to the Lord.  I’m a slow learner and so years later, when I actually began to sincerely let them go, I felt a tremendous freedom in my relationships with them.  Problems may still arise in my heart regarding my sisters’ vocations, but I think God’s grace has pretty much vanquished that demon as of this past summer: but it took me eleven years.  That freedom, though, is tremendous.

The Lord seeks to answer the deepest longings of our hearts.  He boldly declares that He not only has the answer but that He is the answer.  The fulfillment of all our desires is Him.  The longings we experience are for relationship with Him.  The joy we yearn to have fill our hearts is found in none other than He who fashioned our hearts.  It isn’t Titanic-style love.  It is rugged cross, pierced with beauty and sacrifice, blood pouring out that transforms hearts of stone to hearts of flesh-style love.  And it asks for a great price.  It asks for all we have.  The return, though, is worth the investment.

Jesus said, “Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life.” (Mark 10:29-30)

Being the Adventure

“Someday, I want to be the adventure someone chooses.”

The words resonate in my heart, even though I’ve never quite thought of it like that.  My friend is telling me that she has encouraged men she was interested in to pursue their dreams.  Yet what she really wants is to be the adventure they choose to pursue.  I hear her ache and I feel a similar one in my own heart.

We are millennials.  In many ways, I do not believe I fit into my generation.  However, in this regard, I do: I desire greatness.  I do not mean that I long to be recognized or praised in front of all.  Nor do I want empty words of admiration or platitudes repeated just to satisfy a longing to be great.

No.

I want to contribute, in some meaningful way, to society.  I want to leave an impression.  I want to fill a need.  I want to embrace adventure and travel and see new sights.  I want to feel the exhilarating rush of being absolutely, irrevocably alive.  I don’t want to do this by getting high, imbibing too much alcohol, or living a way that is less than I am.  I want to live fully my humanity.

At times I feel like I haven’t done much in my twenty-something years of living.  And by some standards, I haven’t.

I have:
-graduated from high school
-graduated from college (and completed English and Theology theses at 20 pages each)
-studied abroad
-gone on three mission trips, leading one of them
-been a small part in saving at least one child from abortion during my time sidewalk counseling
-been a Confirmation sponsor for two people and godmother to two others
-been published in two newspapers and a college student publication
-traveled to: Mexico, Canada, Honduras, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, Spain, Portugal, France, Switzerland, Germany, Poland, Austria, Czech Republic, Italy, Vatican City, and 32 of the states in the US
-successfully taught high school for 3.5 years
-walked El Camino de Santiago

 

Yet despite these “accomplishments” I am left longing for more adventures.  Namely, the adventure of marriage and family.  The person I immediately turn to when thinking of marriage as an adventure is the ever-endearing G.K. Chesterton.

The supreme adventure is being born.  There we do walk suddenly into a splendid startling trap.  There we do see something of which we have not dreamed before.  Our father and mother do lie in wait for us and leap out on us, like brigands from a bush.  Our uncle is a surprise.  Our aunt is, in the beautiful common expression, a bolt from the blue.  When we step into the family, by the act of being born, we do step into a world which is incalculable, into a world which has its own strange laws, into a world which could do without us, into a world that we have not made.  In other words, when we step into the family we step into a fairy-tale.

So my dear Chesterton would tell me that I am already living the supreme adventure: I have been born into it.  I would argue with him (since it is often my nature to be non-compliant) that my current life is not the familial adventure he speaks of since I am in the “in between” time.  I have a house but it is rented.  I live with friends and not a family of my own.  It is good, but not what I long for.  Perhaps he would agree with me in these points.  In this hypothetical argument, he might remind me that marriage, for all my silly idealism, is not perfection.  He might say this:

When we defend the family we do not mean it is always a peaceful family; when we maintain the thesis of marriage we do not mean that it is always a happy marriage.  We mean that it is the theatre of the spiritual drama, the place where things happen, especially the things that matter.  It is not so much the place where a man kills his wife as the place where he can take the equally sensational step of not killing his wife.

I remember the look of confusion and a bit of shock on my mom’s face when I read her that quote once.  But isn’t it true?  Sometimes the more sensational thing is two human beings, undeniably different even if undeniably in love, not killing each other.  Clearly, Chesterton was a married man.

However, I do not wish to simply quote Chesterton all day, though I love his writings even if I haven’t read many of them.  Rooted deep in the hearts of modern man, I believe, is the desire to give entirely of oneself, wholly and without reserve or end.  This is the longing for marriage.  The desire we have to be the adventure that someone else undertakes.  What adventure (apart from that of pursuing God) could be greater than looking at another human being and saying, “You.  I choose you and only you forever.  I choose to journey through life with you, come what may.  I choose your heart to pursue and cherish always.  And I know time will change us.  In ten years, you will not be the same person I married.  But I will still choose you.”

It is the nature of love to bind itself, and the institution of marriage merely paid the average man the compliment of taking him at his word.

As much as this millennial longs to do all kinds of things and pursue all sorts of adventures (pilgrimage to the Holy Land, run a half marathon, go to jail for a night*, or fly a plane), I long for the simple adventure of a home and a family.  In many ways, my desires are not so adventurous or dramatic after all.  They are little things, daily things.  The adventure of simply being the adventure.

The old-fashioned Englishman, like my father, sold houses for his living but filled his own house with his life.

*Naturally, when I say I wish to go to jail for a night, it is with the idea that I went standing up for something I deeply believe in.

Melting My Heart

Those lovely sophomores are at it again, chipping away at the ice around my heart and melting me into a pool of gushing affection for them.  Today was student led prayer.  Do you know what they requested?  I’m not quite certain it is really a prayer, but they tried really hard to make it into one and I gave into their supplication.  Their prayer was being thankful for all of the memories made in this class and then they tried to list their favorites.

If they would have been more serious and not the fun-loving, chatty sophomores that they are, I might have been reduced to tears.  As it was, there was just enough sincerity mingled with humor to keep a smirk on my face and feel my heart ache while not letting my tears flow.  The memories they came up with focused on none of the lessons I taught or really on me in general.  Yet the student appointed leader finished the “prayer” off with thanking his classmates for being in his class and being thankful for me.  My heart nearly burst.

I followed this sentimentality up with, “That was nice—but you still have to take your quiz today!”  I love them and I never want them to leave.  A while ago some of the students joked about failing this class so they would have to take it again next year.  Now I’m thinking, would it be alright if I found a way to fail all of them?

Loving the Bride of Christ

Prior to Lent I went on a silent retreat.  It was beautiful and a source of growth.  Now, I have the random instances when I am by myself in my classroom or at home and I will whisper something and then I will wonder, slightly panicked, if I was supposed to be silent.  Then I remember that I do not have to be silent.  This must not be a widespread problem I am thinking!

On Tuesday some of my students were still talking about the pope resigning.  There was a comment from one of the girls that said her mom told her the pope probably resigned because priests in Ireland molested little boys.  The comment frustrated me because if Catholics are going to proclaim this as the reason for his resignation, then I am scared to see what the media will do with the situation.  I don’t even need to look at the news to see some of the stones they will be hurling at the papacy, the Church, and anything slightly Catholic.  Anyway, I went on to speak for them a while about how I hoped that someday they would love the Church.  I wanted to say it but at first I just started with, “Someday…”  Then I stopped and turned to my computer, trying to not rant just to rant.  But a couple of the students said, “Someday what?”  I took this as my permission to lecture them a little.  I told them that I hoped someday they would love the Church so much that when someone else criticized her or hurt her, that they would feel the pain, too.  I included that the Church is imperfect in her members but that she is still the Church that Jesus Christ founded.  They didn’t have much to say after that but I wanted to include that I hoped they would feel the pain that I did when they spoke about her like the rest of society does and when they reveal no love in their hearts for the very bride of Christ.

This lack of love for the bride of Christ is something that extends far beyond the youth.  Yesterday I had parent teacher conferences and I had a 10-15 minute conversation with one mother and her daughter.  Essentially the mother was telling me that the school, diocese, and Church speaks way too much about abortion and that they need to move on to other social justice issues.  Like economics and the poor.  I tried to explain to her that if we begin with conception and teach people to understand and respect life in the beginning that the rest will follow but she wasn’t buying that explanation.  There was an interesting moment when she said, “Abortion is killing the Church.”  She went on to explain that people are constantly leaving the Church due to the issue of abortion.  But I agreed with her and said, “Yes, abortion is killing the Church.”  She picked up on my meaning and told me that we meant two different things and I agreed with her.  When I realized I had other parents waiting for me, I knew I had to wrap this conversation up since neither of us was going to convince the other.  I told her if she had ideas of what else to teach she could definitely e-mail me and I would look at them.  I didn’t promise I would teach them but I told her I would be talking about abortion because it would be an injustice not to.  It was easy to not take her criticism too personally because she was being critical of the theology department, the parishes in Sioux Falls, and the entire Catholic Church.  Telling her frustrations to a first year teacher wasn’t going to accomplish anything, especially when I don’t agree with her completely and most of the people in charge would be on my side.

I have realized over the past few months teaching that I have a deep love for the Church.  While it wasn’t as though I thought I didn’t before, a few instances have come up when I realize my love.  When my students are being extremely critical of her and pointing out all of her flaws, it hurts me.  I try to explain it all in ways they will understand but to a certain degree, they will never understand until they experience this same love that I have.  Pope Benedict’s resignation came as a surprise but I came away with gratitude for his humility and his love for the Church.  He never wanted to be in the spotlight but he did so for the good of the Church.  Now he is resigning for the good of the Church.  Not because of scandal or mistakes but because he loves his bride so much that he wants nothing bad to happen to her, he wants someone to adequately defend her.  He is being like Jesus on the cross, surrendering his mother to the hands of the young disciple.  What a gift his papacy has been for the Church.  The media will never admit this but I don’t expect them to.  I do, however, expect Catholics everywhere to stand up and the proclaim this truth and to not simply become one of the crowd, believing everything that the secular media writes or says.

Pray for Pope Benedict XVI!  Pray for the new pope!  Pray for our Church!  Pray for the youth!  Church Militant–let’s get fighting, marching, proclaiming, and defending!  Viva Cristo Rey!