Awkward Outreach

   In recent weeks a homosexual was moved into the Faith Dorm. His cell was across the hall from mine and I was indifferent - of all the things which I have witnessed over the years, this was no big deal. As the intervening days progressed, it became clear that he was being avoided like the plague. A dorm replete with Christians was being uninviting. Unfriendly. I, too, was guilty of avoiding him!
    On two occasions I made a pathetic attempt to say "good morning.". Keep in mind, this salutation, though not hollow, was barely audible as I rushed by. Fickle person that I am, I did not want to be seen talking to him; yep, I still get caught up in what onlookers perceive. To say the least, I felt like a schmuck. Perhaps more troublesome than being cowardly, I did not know how to talk to him....
   After some uncomfortable time had elapsed and I had grown to no longer see this individual (he was physically present, but I had blocked him out), a non Christian approached me with an account that I could no longer sweep under the rug of oblivion: This openly gay fella was feeling the prompt of making life changes. On one particular Sunday afternoon he felt drawn to go to church. Having heard accounts from several people, the congregation did not welcome him. No greetings. No handshakes (of course not, cooties). Worst of all, and most degrading, nobody would sit near him. The atheist who approached me had confided that this person was broken and distraught, questioning his value and if it was even possible to be spiritual. My heart ached for him.
   Not giving a damn what passersby thought, I grabbed a chair and went to his door and knocked. Not having many visitors, it is suspected that he was taken aback by seeing me. It didn't help that I appeared less than congenial - I was pissed by how he was treated by that church, by the Faith Dorm, by me. Christians.... The little fella hesitantly opened his door and was bare chested. This made me feel a little uncomfortable. So, without much gentleness in my voice, I said: "Put a shirt on, grab your chair, and sit down, we have to talk!" Looking back, I should have smiled, introduced myself, and expressed why I was there. Oops.
   Sitting in the hallway, I shared how Christianity is not an easy walk. How as a felon it is more arduous. And, factoring his sexual orientation, well, such could only make his journey more didfficult. I also came clean with not knowing how to talk to him. For the most part, this was a one sided conversation. That is, until I invited him to pray. We did.
   Afterwards, I approached several Christians and expressed the need to embrace this troubled soul, a person contemplating life changes. Some agreed; others gave me the ubiquitous stink eye. In the next couple of days I had repeatedly attempted to reconnect with this person, but from one thing or another was prevented from doing so. It was unclear if Satan was blocking me from encouraging another conversion to Jesus? Or, was it God intervening to protect me (this will make sense in a moment)?
   Please, permit me to digress for a moment. The atheist had come to me the day after I met with his gay acquaintance. And, this is not said to bring accolades to myself, but the time I had spent with this troubled soul had really lifted his spirits and gave home the gumption to continue to move forward. Hallelujah. The Holy Spirit works in mysterious ways.
   Two days later this troubled soul was beaten up by his roommate (also a homosexual). Complete speculation on my part, but what if he was beaten because he is trying to change his life? A modern day persecution.... If this is indeed the case, he was willing to take a bunch of lumps whereas the rest of us were apprehensive of incurring a little gossip!
   May our Lord have mercy on this gentle person.
Marana tha

Black and White

   "[G]uard what has been entrusted to you...[a]void contradictions" (1 Timothy 6:20 RSVCE). "[T]he Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kindly" (2 Timothy 2:24). * * *
   Living out my Catholic faith can be, at times, difficult. But, such has also been an exercise in humility and meekness. When first opening myself to the presence of Christ, I was extremely timid and avoided all forms of debate. Similarly, there was a strong tendency to steer away from discussing anything in the realms of faith and religion because I had not developed any reasoned opinions. Plus, the bickering and division witnessed in others was not appealing: "The blow of a whip raises a welt, but a blow of the tongue crushes the bones" (Sirach 28:17). Today, however, firm positions have been adopted and developed. Even so, I tend to avoid debates...that is, unless the atmosphere is ripe to gently sprinkle seeds or bear fruit. Whether planting or harvesting, caution must be exercised to ensure that pride or ego or anger have not emerged as my motivating forces (Psalms 39:1-3); the ultimate inquiry being: Will this, that, the other glorify God? There are many opportunities to evangelize in this community; but, sometimes more can be accomplished if silence is maintained ("there are times when good words are to be left unsaid out of esteem for silence" Rule of Saint Benedict 6.2).
   Of the Christian classes which I have been blessed to receive admission over the past several years, all have been non-Catholic in theological and philosophical perspectives (save but a few correspondence courses). This notwithstanding, a tremendous volume of insight has been gleaned. Also, a greater understanding and love of our separated brothers and sisters has manifested.
   While attending an elective philosophy class recently, the facilitator made the following comment: "Holy Scripture is black and white, there are no shades of gray." Hmph, my Bible has red, too! (Yeah, that last comment was clearly a tad juvenile on my part...bad Karl!) The facilitator continued: "No dot or iota can be altered or added or removed." Okay, I can dig it! But a short time into the lecture he read the following swath from our Lord's discourse on the Living Bread: "I am the living bread which came down from heaven...he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life" (John 6:51-54).
   Admittedly, those are pretty difficult words which Jesus spoke. If you read this brief text from the pages of your Bible, it will be noticed that these phrases are repeated several times with the same emphasis. Yet, our facilitator dismissed such as hyperbole: "Surely, we are not to believe that Jesus was referring to his actual flesh and blood, the text is only meant to be understood in the spiritual context, symbolic."
   These passe comments were met with bobbing heads of acceptance from the class. For those who know me, I have a tremendous reverence for Christ in his Eucharistic presence...oh, goodness, is such ever intense. As a result, I was conflicted with what to do. For lack of a more genteel expression, because this was a Protestant class in which I had been invited, seldom would I voice a Catholic perspective. Yet, this time there had been a bugger clawing at me: If I failed to engage, would those who were present assume my ascent? Plus, there exists the weight of being charged to promote the truth (2 Timothy 1:14, 2:15; James 5:19-29), even in the face of adversity (Matthew 5:10-11; John 15:20; 2 Timothy 3:12; Galatians 4:16). Aargh! Poked and prodded if not by the Holy Spirit then by the spirit of a pope past, I felt like Moses when God asked him to address Israel: "'Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent...I am slow of speech and of tongue'" (Exodus 4:10).
Waiting for a moment when there would be limited disturbance to the lecture, I put my plow to the field and kicked the mule. With respect and gentleness, permission was given to the facilitator to stop my address if at anytime he felt uncomfortable (not as though he needed license, it was his class).
   Sweaty palms and a steeled voice, I began trampling weeds and cultivating the seedbed. At the outset, it was conceded that God's word is indeed "black and white" with no room to add or remove (see Matthew 5:18; Luke 16:17; also Mark 13:31). But, this was where concessions ended. Referring to the Greek definitions of "eat" and "drink" in the context of the disputed text, such wholly supports the Catholic position of the Real Presence in the Eucharist. What becomes glaringly evident, other variations of the same words are available in Greek which endorse a symbolic application, but such were not employed by Christ.
   To further bolster the veracity of the Catholic interpretation is a contention between Jesus and many of his followers who, like my class, complained: "This is a hard saying; who can listen to it" (John 6:60-61). A few verses later, our Lord accuses these discouraged souls of lacking faith (6:64a). Soon after, "many of his disciples drew back and no longer went about with him" (6:66). Recognizing beforehand that his words would be troublesome (6:64b), our Lord could have changed his intent or application, but he chose not to. Moreover, when seeing many of his followers flock away, Jesus could have called them all back and expressed that they had misunderstood; but, he didn't. Actually, they understood quite well.
   Alas, "[w]hoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord" (1 Corinthians 11:17). Whoa, there is a wallop of heavy evidence which weighs in favor of something much more than a mere symbol. Even more stern are the following words: "For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself...[t]hat is why many of you are weak and ill" (11:29-30). Ouch! It's pretty difficult to be much clearer.
   The counter was complete. Being that this was an elective class consisting of mature Christians studying philosophy, there was little fear of discouraging one's spiritual journey. Instead, there was anxiety over any negative fallout being directed towards me. None. Nadda. Nothing. There was no further discussion or grunting or anything, we simply moved on with the lecture. In a peculiar way, this befuddled me...I wanted a little push back, some passion about their convictions...did they hear a word of what I drew from scripture...I was mounted on my mule and ready to charge, ahem, or gallop away (uh, aimlessly saunter).
* * *
   Please, do not think that this was a win in the sense that "Karl and his mule broadcast Catholic seeds all throughout the fields of Kingdom Come." Though, indeed a victory, said triumph was not how one would generally perceive.
   Thanks to the programs which I have been invited to participate, I now possess confidence where such was absent. Also, the past several years in the Prison Fellowship Faith Dorm have provided an atmosphere where differing faiths and traditions and beliefs can be shared constructively. Yes, there have been struggles and persecutions suffered, but viewed appropriately we have all been able to learn how to navigate such. The calmness with which the above exchange unfolded exemplifies the growth of all present. I am greatly indebted to the facilitators and community for providing a climate which is conducive to germination. If not for these blessings and tribulations, I would still be a fledgling Christian (well, more so than currently). Thank you.
   Marana tha

I Offer You

   Within a devotional prayer titled the Chaplet of Divine Mercy there is a segment in which one will encounter the following proclamation: "Eternal Father, I offer you the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of your dearly beloved Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ, in atonement for our sins and those of the whole world." This expression can be quite humbling; but also difficult, especially for the unprepared.
   Attending a Holy Communion service recently, the extraordinary minister called an audible (an unsuspected change of direction) during our worship. He suggested that we collectively spend some time in silence.
   When he had led us down this path on a previous occasion, Jesus was still on the altar and we were blessed with an opportunity for Eucharistic adoration. An awesome experience. However, this audible was announced after our Lord had been consumed. Hmph.
   It must be conceded, I was a little buggered that our extraordinary minister waited until this juncture to make such an announcement. Could he not have promulgated these intentions prior to Jesus being consumed? Ah, perhaps he was just following the promptings of the Holy Spirit! Or, like me, he was wrestling with (ignoring) the Holy Spirit like I do and had at that late moment responded!
   As I sat there and stewed (pouted) like an uncouth Neanderthal, I began reflecting on those words cited earlier from the Chaplet. Jesus, in his entirety, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, was inside me at that moment. Just minutes before I had ingested him.
   Also, recalling the reflections shared after one of the liturgical readings of the service (Acts 2:42-47), I pondered how we are counseled to die to self, that each time we approach the altar we are to have the disposition and intention of offering ourselves fully to God. How much more complete could my sacrifice be: Here I am God, your Son, his fullness within me, I offer myself in conjunction with him, to do with me what you will....
   Sobering. Humbling. Scary. All of my thoughts and emotions zigzagged and collided in a variety of variables. The implications of the Chaplet and our response to our Lord took on new dimensions. Whoa!
   Admittedly, I feel a bit silly about my earlier grievances of not being able to enjoy Eucharist adoration during the worship service. Instead, I was able to set self desires aside and offer myself more undividedly to God (still have a ways to go).
   When will I learn to simply trust! Silly....
Marana tha

Forgiveness

   In the prayer which Jesus taught to the apostles, there is a line which has caused havoc in my life: "[F]orgive us our trespasses [a]s we forgive those who trespass against us" (Matthew 6:12 RSVCE 2d). This particular proposition rang a bell while I was still wrestling with whether belief in God was objectively true or a bunch of subjective hocus pocus.         Chewing on this passage, I had latched onto "as," a seemingly innocuous pronoun. To this day, the reverberations of this quantifier continue to resonate. Hence, the "havoc" referred to moments earlier.
   The ding-donging of this spiritual gong brought with it a recognition that a response in the form of duty or performance was fundamental, a gate keeping mechanism. Such a threshold obligation ultimately gave credence to the whole Jesus thing. This amounted to another piece of evidence which added to the reasonableness of Christianity. Coincidentally, the soundness of this theology impacted my everyday life before having entered the Church!
   It's no secret that I have always struggled with forgiving myself for the ugliness which landed me in prison (such will not be rehashed in this essay, read my earlier writings). Several years ago a milestone had been reached in which the strength and wherewithal to forgive myself had been a result - mind you, this is an on going process, never static or complete.              Unequivocally, some days are more difficult than others (again, detailed accounts are written elsewhere).
All of the aforementioned has been presented as a refresher and segue into God's forgiveness of me.
Ever since I became a Jesus freak, people who are aware of my difficulties in forgiving self have inquired as to whether I know that our Lord has forgiven me. Well, in response, yes and no. Though, the "no" has always been kept to myself. Intellectually, on paper, if you will, it was recognized that God had forgiven me. However, I didn't know this grace in my soul.
   You may not understand this, but it has never mattered to me whether forgiveness was attained from our Lord! I feel so horrible about the past...whatever happens to me will be just. So you may ask, "Why bother becoming a rootin' tootin' Christian?" Because I love Jesus. If I can draw souls to him, I will have made a difference. In the off chance that somebody can be prevented from making the same errors in judgment that I did, wow. By bringing people to Christ, perhaps there will be one less victim of crime. If God embraces them...awesome, awesome, awesome.
   Surely, with the relationship I have grown to enjoy with Jesus and his Mother, not to mention my religious education and prayer life, one would not dare suspect that I held such reservations about God's forgiveness. Perhaps I am an anomaly! Could be that I am slow to see: "How many times I yearned to gather you, as a hen gathers her young under her wings, but you were unwilling" (Matthew 23:37, translation unknown).
   On the morning of the Feast of Saint Thomas the Apostle (also known as, Doubting Thomas, see Luke 20:19-29), with no noticeable sequitur, it became clear in my soul, in my heart, in my very essence, that God has indeed forgiven me. An "aha" moment of the most savory variety.
   Using deductive reasoning: If I was unforgivable, the Holy Spirit would not have allocated so many resources to rescue me. He would not have helped me understand his teachings and infused me with the confidence to share the same with others. And, he would not have showered me with blessings and the capacity to recognize such. If I was forever damned, these riches would have been invested elsewhere.
   On a side note: Several hours after arriving at these conclusions, two religious (nuns) came to visit for the afternoon. One being my spiritual director; the other, her sidekick, was a first meeting. Coincidence? I think not.
   And, on yet another note, the shining beacon to close this celebration of forgiveness consisted of fireworks peeking over the distant trees. No kidding, fireworks. Neat! Memorable.
   Yahoo, God has indeed forgiven me! And, I now possess a knowledge of this forgiveness. How incredibly freeing. If only I could have shared such with my dad....
   Marana tha

God Does Exist

   "If upon entering some home you saw that everything there was well-tended, neat and decorative, you would believe that some master was in charge of it, and that he was himself much superior to those good things. So too in the home of this world, when you see providence, order, and law in the heavens and on earth, believe that there is a Lord and Author of the universe, more beautiful than the stars themselves and the various parts of the whole world" (Minucius Felix, "Octavius" A.D. 218/235). * * *
   For those of you who have a relationship with our Lord, the title of this essay probably seems a little daft or trite. Or, possibly, you are anticipating some grand expression of profundity. Nope! Instead, an oversight in Christian evangelization is the focus. A potential failure, more specifically.
   In what is often referred to as the Great Commission, Jesus commands the apostles to "make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you" (Matthew 28:19-20; also Mark 16:15 RSVCE). In conjunction with this apostolic mandate, we, as laypeople, are charged with similar responsibilities: "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16). Likewise, "that we may be fellow workers in the truth" as we support the clergy (3 John 8). Approximately fifty years ago, the Second Vatican Council of the Catholic Church provided additional insight and guidance: "Each individual layman must stand before the world as a witness to the resurrection and life of the Lord Jesus and...each one according to his ability must nourish the world with spiritual fruits...announcing...Christ by a living testimony as well as by the spoken word" (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, sects 35, 38).
   Such expressions of responsibility are fine and dandy, but what about the poor soul we accost who has no relationship with Christ? All too common is the propensity to run around spreading the gospel by knocking people over the head with biblical passages which condemn them for being sinners. Oh, and there is the tendency to assail them with the necessity of salvation. Or, to the other extreme, an invitation of happy go lucky utopia is proffered - that is, if they can conjure the ubiquitous faith needed. It has been my observation that unless a person is in dire straits or sick and tired of the life they are mired in, chances are they could give a hoot less about the medicine being peddled out of the Jesus wagon.
   Tragically, contemporary culture is at a crossroads where everybody is being encouraged to embrace individualism at the cost of modesty and humanity. Relativism. Further, we have devolved to a point where many do not grasp the pangs of sin or the supernatural grace of sanctification. Thus, it can be noticed that God and the Church and the Bible present little consequence to those who do not already have a relationship with the Creator. This is not a thumbing of noses to God; rather, disinterest or unappreciated value.
   It should be noted that these opinions are being developed from a unique vantage point: For the past five years I have been living (incarcerated) in a Christian faith dorm. A moderate percentage possess a rapport with Jesus. Conversely, a high percentage do not (they are here to discern whether Christianity is in the cards for them).
   Taking an impromptu survey, I asked random faithful to describe how they know God exists. The result was frighteningly appalling. Most could not articulate valid reasoning beyond pat answers: "Because the Bible says so" or "That's the way I was raised!" Ouch. To a nonbeliever looking for sustenance or answers to the big questions of life, uh, such empty and anorexic professions of faith would be discouraging (not that I am relegating Holy Scripture to a barren state...you know what I meant). Unanticipated was a comment by a fellow believer: "Karl, stop worrying so much about this stuff, relax!" I was totally flabbergasted and, for the first time in quite awhile, speechless.
   As alluded to earlier, we cannot effectively launch into evangelization from the standpoint that a damaged person needs to be saved. In their minds, saved from what: "Why does consummating the relationship with my girlfriend have to be a so-called sin; after all, I enjoy the euphoric sensations?" "For pete sakes, what is the practicality of loving my enemy; he's an idiot?" and "Why must I give up this, that, and the other to appease some deity in a book - I enjoy the life which you refer to as damned?" "Anyway, you're not perfect, either, you silly Bible thumping buffoon!"
   Yet, even for those who are curious about the possibility of becoming Christian, starting with the incarnation and faith and morals and salvation and the crucifixion and resurrection and second coming is problematic. Suffocating. Setting the tone with the big questions of life may be more advantageous: "Who am I?" "Why am I here?" and "Where am I going?"
   For me, before becoming receptive to Christ, I did not want to hear all of the Jesus hocus pocus. Such made no sense. One of the catalysts for conversion was when I began thinking about the "big questions" of life and existence, what is real and good, trying discern plausible reasons of why everything seems work together in a complimentary manner. It was then that God began to make some semblance of sense to me. Mind you, the doctrines which eventually followed surrounding sin and working out one's salvation and a whole litany of other foreign teachings are different stories altogether!
So, beginning with a philosophical exploration of the big questions of life, setting our Lord and his scripture aside temporarily, we are able to non-violently and non-offensively draw reasoned answers to these queries.
   Now what? No God. No Bible. Thus, no theology. How will we evangelize? Philosophy does not have to be stodgy. Such is the perfect vehicle for contemporary evangelization. That is, provided the application is Christian based. Sound reason is the key. Get a person to reflect on why he or she exists, why we have the innate ability to know right from wrong aside from laws, why humans possess the capacity to reason and exercise free will when no other living entity (plant/animal) does, and the list goes on.
   Once a person begins to recognize some appearance of intelligent design (or at least cannot deny such), then evangelization can introduce God as the force behind all that is. Mind you, not sin and salvation and faith (save those for another time), but starting with the foundation of our beginnings, the creation story, Book of Genesis.
It is quite possible that I am misdirected: My understanding of philosophy is hugely limited and wanting; yet, there seems to be a practicality to employing such to lay a solid foundation of reasoning to answer: Does God exist....

   "It is one thing to be persuaded of the existence of something, and another thing entirely to know what it is. That God does exist and and that He is the efficient and sustaining Cause of all things is taught us by our eyes and by the order in nature: our eyes, because they light upon visible objects and behold in them their beautiful stability and progress, immovably moving and revolving if I may so express it; and the order in nature, because upon beholding these visible and orderly things we reason back to their Author" (Saint Gregory, "Second Theological Oration" A.D. 380).
   Marana tha
_______________________

Sabbatical

   Those who possess the wherewithal to stay focused and maintain their particular trajectories in life with full vigor...well, I admire you. My capacity to remain amped up is like the weather - some days are sunny and inviting, others are stormy and discouraging. So as to avoid burnout, several interests are maintained; emphasis given in a particular pursuit until enthusiasm wanes and then energies are switched to an alternative focus or task. Thus, a certain level of accomplishment can be sustained. However, there are those times when exhaustion begins to take its toll and a sabbatical is called for.
    For those who know me, God and Church and community consume much of my day, week, life. So, when I begin feeling overwhelmed... well, it is essentially from our Lord which I seek a vacation! Don't scrunch your face in abhorrent disgust that I'd be so crass to say something so impious, it's not as though I have run away from Jesus. Our relationship remains in place, but I do reduce my disciplines to the bare minimum as I recuperate. Shame on you for thinking otherwise! Dastardly.
   Typically, much more time is devoted to outside activities and television and snacking when enjoying the relaxed state of a sabbatical. This particular break stretched for nearly two weeks. I was recharged a couple of days earlier, but had opted to take a few extra days...well, just because. Oh, how little we can sneak past God - his sense of humor made me the posterior to his punchlines!
    On one of the days beyond recuperation, I encountered a fella during my walk who I'd never spoken to before. Passing by, I inquired about the state of his day. Oh my gosh, he was filled with more cursing than I've ever heard and a similar amount of complaint. Now, I am not a prude; sometimes words and phrases purge from my lips which are neither glorifying or dignified. Sparingly, mind you, but it does happen. Hey, wait, doesn't Jesus counsel us to approach people where they're at (cf Romans 14:16, 19)! Anyway, just one expletive after another. It was horrible, even by locker room standards. I searched and searched for a way to politely disengage, but he would not take so much as a breath. No joking, he was actually breathing hard. At one point, he thanked me for listening and expressed that he had not spoken to anyone in some time.
   Ah, his grievances were at a close and I could.... Nope. Without missing a beat he cussed along. Finally, I broke etiquette and cut him off, inquiring whether he had anything positive to say.
   Well, he had a couple of pleasant words and then fell back into his previous rant. Finally, I excused myself.
   Picking up my pace so this troubled soul could not attach himself any further (sounds cold, I know...gosh, maybe I am prudish), two other people latched onto me. Thankfully, the nouns, adjectives, and verbs were moderate. Though, the topics of discussion were more in the realm of what had just previously been suffered. Geesh! As I knew these fellas, it was easier to break away.
   Getting off the beaten path, I began doing some calisthenics. Ah, some much wanted peace. Thoughts could form and it was possible to simply bask in the beauty of the morning breeze.
Since I was already barefoot from my exercise (better balance), I opted to walk the rest of the morning with my toes licking the dew from the grass.
   Ugh, my serenity was immediately punctuated when my thoughts had entered the ethers of daydreaming. So much for reveling in barefoot adventures reminiscent of Huck Finn.... The uncouth timing and gall of some people! This person, a friend, simply wanted to talk. Ah, but we were able to talk about God. No cussing. No cursing. The irony? My friend is agnostic.
   As we wandered, I shared the hiccups encountered throughout the morning and how I was feeling my Lord poking me with an unspoken message: "Little child, it is time for you to return to me, you have enjoyed sufficient time to recharge your batteries!" Of course, as we pondered this perceived exchange, I had inferred that there would be a consequence if the Holy Spirit was ignored: If I his call to return was not heeded, there existed a potential that every following day would be consumed with untimely interruptions and the peace sought after would forever vanish!
   Either I have an overactive imagination or my sabbatical was over. Yes, I observed my scolding and returned to the arms of the Lord. Recharged. Full of vigor. On fire. * * *
   "Just as God rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had done, human life has a rhythm of work and rest...the Lord's Day helps everyone enjoy adequate rest and leisure to cultivate their familial, cultural, social, and religious lives" (Catechism of the Catholic Church 2184).
   Marana tha

Apologetics

   Attending a class recently, Building on God's Foundation: A New Community, students were asked to gather into small groups for discussion. Not one who is overly enamored with cliques, I opted for a table with two people who seemed to garner no attention, possible outcasts. The gentleman who was initially sitting with me had likewise followed suit. The topic of discussion focused on the Story of Nicodemus (John 3:1-21). You know, the narrative between Jesus and the Pharisee who was confounded about salvation and how he was to reenter the womb and be born again. As a grown man, at that. Of course, as many of are wont to do, Nicodemus was looking at this teaching from a temporal perspective, not recognizing that Jesus was speaking of being born again by water and Spirit. The common quantifier, of course, being faith.
Our religious traditions consisted of a hodgepodge. One who subscribed to Pentecostal Protestantism. A Messianic Jew. Of course, yours truly representing Catholicism. And, a fella who had yet to make up his mind about God.
   It is curious how the Holy Spirit brings opposites together. Sense of humor?
   The groups were given five points to navigate concerning the text. We did not make it past the initial leg of the query: "When Nicodemus asked Jesus about salvation, what does Jesus say?" Silly me, I regularly struggle to stay on task and, in this particular instance, I was curious about what each person thought about salvation from their individual or traditional perspectives. Specifically, does the doctrine of salvation (being saved) consist of a single or continual event?
   Yep, for those of you who know how volatile this query can be...well, I sure can pick 'em! This not so little rabbit trail, by the way, was the path in which we collectively learned of our religious differences. But, much to my relief, we each handled our interactions and dissimilarities with dignity. Jesus was proud this afternoon!
   As with any mixed bag, our topic of choice fractured into other areas. Of particular interest, I spoke of there being venial and mortal sins, how mortal sins sever the covenant with God. An extenuation of salvation. O yeah, that bunny hop sparked a response from the Pentecostal gentleman. He stood atop his soapbox and professed that "all sin is sin and therefore equally offensive." Hmph! Not being the first time this flawed notion had been heard (such is actually quite popular in this environment), I calmly grabbed my Bible - coincidentally, me, the Catholic, was the only soul at our table to bring the Word of God, go figure - and turned to the following passage: "If anyone sees his brother committing what is not a deadly sin, he will ask, and God will give him life for those whose sin is not deadly." In and of themselves, these words indicate different categories of sin. However, to ensure understanding, the text restates itself immediately following the preceding statement: "There is sin which is deadly...." And, again: "All wrongdoing is sin, but there is sin which is not deadly." (1 John 5:16, 17 RSVCE). Without a hint of superiority, I asked our Pentecostal friend how he understood the magnitude of those words?
   To keep you informed of the other rabbit chasers, the Messianic Jew was on my page. The undecided gentleman simply listened and occasionally asked for clarification. It is so pleasing that we all remained cordial.
   The response received was not what had been anticipated. I had really thought that the "all sin is the same" gentleman would recognize the hiccup in his reasoning and embrace what had been clearly placed before him in Scripture. Nope. I am indeed naive. Instead, he seemed to not be deterred and continued to embrace the faultiness of what he had been erroneously taught. Even the undecided gentleman connected the dots; albeit, it is unlikely that the significance was appreciated. I will reach out to him at another time, soon.
   With my Pentecostal friend it can only be hoped that the seed has been planted and he is currently wrestling with the logistics.
   Later, after the class, I happened upon my evangelical friend and we explored some other teachings. All culminated with the same "agree to disagree" yawn. Unwilling to let this rabbit to hide in the darkness of briers, I am going to slide him scriptural passages which support what we had bumped heads on. Because we had remained genteel and non combative, I am reasonably confident that he will hop away.
   On a funny and related turn: While my confused Pentecostal friend and I were engaged after class, a booming voice could be heard in our proximity which was chanting: "Get 'em, you can get him, I know you can...." Initially, the two of us were ignoring the words, perceiving that such vocal encouragements were related to a ballgame airing on the community television. Finally looking up, we both saw the undecided gentleman prompting me to keep on with what I was saying. It is not clear if such was in jest, but he had a big smile and seemed to grasp what was happening.
   Perhaps more than one seed has been planted? Is it too optimistic to hope that a small crop of fruit is on the way? Yahoo! As a result, your prayers are needed so that not only will their hearts be receptive, but that I will be open to the Holy Spirit's guidance so so as to not do any adverse damage. Thank you.
   A great appreciation must be extended to all of the apostolates (ministries) and individuals who provided the resources and encouragement to share and defend Jesus. This is apologetics. I am indebted.
   Marana tha

Bride of Christ

   Do you ever wish that our Lord would have prescribed different language in the Bible? No, I am not referring to easier commandments and less burdensome expectations. Instead, it is those phrases which come across wonky or simply do not appear to be applicable to contemporary culture.
   I like to think of myself as a manly man. In my heart of hearts, it is believed that others perceive the same of me. Mind you, I am also balanced by a softer side, too. Compassion. Empathy. Understanding. And, yes, love. This gentler disposition notwithstanding, what was Jesus thinking when he employed the imagery of him being the bridegroom and us the bride?
In the current climate of our culture the application of "bride" to my identity causes me to squirm. Why that noun? Buddy, pal, friend, chum, confidant, sidekick, or a host of other monikers would more pleasantly have sufficed. No matter how secure a fella is in his masculinity, such a frilly designation is unsettling. It is imagined that males from two thousand years ago said, "What!"
   Bear with me a little longer, this ranting is not yet complete!
   Saint Paul, when addressing the community in Corinth, stated the following: "I betrothed you to Christ to present you as a pure bride to her one husband" (2 Corinthians 11:2 RSVCE). In the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Maidens, it appears on the surface that Jesus is passively speaking of the fairer sex (Matthew 25:1-13). Ha! In every homily or sermon or study group we have ever been exposed to where the Christian body is being expounded upon, the Church is always implicated as "she" and "bride." By proxy, this seems to indicate that us red blooded males fall within the category of "bride!" Aargh. And, let's not overlook Saint John's encounter with an angel during a dream: "'Come, I will show you the Bride, the wife of the Lamb'" (Revelation 21:9). Another indica of the Church.
   Such allusions are not confined to the New Testament. "'For your Maker is your husband...the Lord has called you to be his wife'" (Isaiah 54:5-6). Thus says the Lord, "'I remember the devotion of your youth, your love as a bride'" (Jeremiah 2:2). Perhaps the most revealing intent of bride is what follows: "'And in that day, says the Lord, you will call me, "My Husband,"...[a]nd I will betroth you to me forever'" (Hosea 3:16, 19). C'mon!
   With all of the proof texts outlined above, it has become impractical to continue plunking my head in the sand and pretending that these feminine phrasings were some hiccup during the translation process. Nonetheless, there still remains that quintessential struggle within the contemporary male mind, the manly mind. Not that getting to the crux of this bride conundrum was ever at the top of my list to discern, if in my scope of view at all. Yet, when reading or hearing references to such, there still resonates that creepy twinge. No, I am not some Neanderthal or male chauvinist pig. "Ugh, ugh, ugh...me Tarzan, she Jane!" Maybe the Holy Spirit, in his comedic way, is trying to humble me, to humble all of us fellas.
   There is one more unsettling factor which contributes to what may amount to a phobia. Kisses. Not to belabor this point, but why? "O that you [Hebrew: he] would kiss me with the kisses of your [Hebrew: his] mouth" (Song of Solomon 1:2). Really! Taking all of this together, I am jumping out of my skin....
   In a curious twist, reflecting on my adolescence, it is a surprise that any of this nonsense of the mind is bothersome. See, I used to kiss my mom and dad every night before going to bed, an expressed token of love. Right on the lips. If close family friends were present, they'd receive the same kisses. Right on the lips. Of course, these almost family members would not receive the words of love as my parents did. Come to think of it, I may have carried this innocent practice a little too deep into my youth - even I could detect in myself a sense of discomfort in kissing company. But, it must be admitted, I miss giving and receiving those kisses!
   While reading "Sermons on the Song of Songs," Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (the patron whose name I took when becoming and Oblate of Saint Benedict), he eloquently addressed this contemporary nuptual dichotomy between Christ being the Bridegroom and us as the brides, male and female. "[B]ridegroom and bride. Between these all things are equally shared, there are no selfish reservations, nothing that causes division. They share the same inheritance, the same table, the same home, the same marriage-bed, they are flesh of each others flesh. 'This is why a man leaves his father and mother and joins himself to his wife, and they become one body.' The bride for her part is bidden to 'forget her nation and her ancestral home,' so that the bridegroom may fall in love with her beauty. Therefore if a love relationship is the special and outstanding characteristic of the bride and groom, it is not unfitting to call the soul that loves God a bride" (Sermon 7: Intimacies of the Love of God).
   Taking time to discern Saint Bernard's counsel, it has become wholly necessary that I abandon any discomfort or feebleness in this regard. Actually, through Saint Bernard's assistance the phrasing which Jesus employed is quite beautiful. Sadly, I have permitted cultural and temporal ideals to negatively impact spiritual growth. All of which to say: Jesus, may I be your bride, may we enter more completely into that conventional marriage relationship?
   Marana tha

A Dove's Kiss

   Sometimes our Lord has the most unique way of touching us. It is in the quirkiness of these experiences which I find myself laughing aloud.
   What follows, it is anticipated, some will simply chalk up to coincidence and claim that I am aloof, reading my own adolescent wishes into an empty scenario. Daft as I may be in regards to spiritual matters of the heart, a response appears compelled. Jesus, when addressing the disciples, offered the following nugget of wisdom: "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3 RSVCE). For the purposes of this discussion, emphasis is given more so to the "becoming like children" component than that of "heaven." In the very next verse our Lord speaks of humbling ourselves like children. An innocence, if you will, when approaching the divine. Of more significance, God being omniscient, all knowing, it is probable that he would be aware of how I would perceive the following accounts; thus, either endorsing or squashing the event altogether! As for the capricious naysayers: How my heart aches that you are too sophisticated in your faith to enjoy simple encounters which draw attention to the Holy Spirit. And, if I am indeed mistaken in my perceptions, what harm has been done (Pascal's Wager)! So, without further ado....
   Standing before a large window in the Faith Dormitory while praying the Liturgy of the Hours  - Trinity Sunday, to be specific - a slight breeze had been enjoyed as it entered through the screen. Considering that the proceeding days were so sticky and dry, this reprieve was a pleasant change of pace before the suffocating heat rolled in and robbed all nuances of comfort.
   My prayer proceeded as normal. Though, there was a new person in the community room when I entered (the space is typically void of people in the wee hours). To this I was unsure of the etiquette: So he would not freak out, should the interloper have been informed that I was about to begin my devotions or just let him figure it out on his own? Not to disrupt his day anymore than necessary, I embraced the chicken approach and opted for the later scenario! Mind you, out of respect for his proximity, my voice was kept relatively low.
   In a curious turn of events, the devotions were significantly longer than normal. I was half way through prayers for Ordinary Time (the liturgical year is divided into seasons: Advent, Christmas, Ordinary, Lent, Easter, and it keeps cycling with other celebrations peppered throughout) when remembering this was the First Sunday after Pentecost. Oops! As mentioned earlier, this is Trinity Sunday. Fumbling, humbled before Jesus by my absentmindedness, I proceeded to backup and engage the proper prayers. Hey, it happens! Almost embarrassing, it was noticed that a number of people had quietly filed in. Thankfully, they were unaware of the hiccup!
   Coming to the conclusion of my early devotions, it was thought that the coo of a dove had been heard. Looking up and simultaneously signing myself with the cross - "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit" - there perched a dove before me. No kidding, a dove. A morning dove. In my heart I yearned for a third coo. By golly, there was a response. Yes, as if responding, another coo. Perhaps representing the Trinity on this day of solemnity - "and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form, as a dove" (Luke 3:22). It was tempting to push my luck for an additional coo, but such would likely have diminished what moments before had happened. Vanity.
   It is prayed that I have not crossed the threshold into the murky waters of religious subjectivism?
   That part of the prayer in which the first coo was heard is telling: "You reveal yourself in the depths of our being, drawing us to share in your life and your love. One God, three Persons, be near to the people formed in your image, close to the world your love brings to life" (Christian Prayer 647). Whoa!
   It should be noted, too, dove sightings are rare in this particular locale. Yeah, now your beginning to connect the dots!
   "At the end of forty days Noah...sent forth a dove from him...but the dove found no place to set her foot, and she returned...to the ark" (Genesis 8:6, 8-9). Approaching the threshold of an allegorical application, it is hoped that the Holy Spirit encountered an inviting place in my heart in which to perch - how tragic if there was no room because I was too mature and haughty in my faith!
   Marana tha

Christian Unity

   This year denotes the five hundredth anniversary of the Protestant Reformation. As a devout Catholic, my initial emotion is "ugh!" Not why you think.
   Basic knowledge of Church history instills in me an acute awareness that the hierarchy of the Catholic church (not the institution itself) was peppered with hypocrisy a half millennia ago. In particular, Popes Sixtus IV (1471-1484), Alexander VI (1492-1503), Julius II (1503-1513), and Leo X (1513-1521) were less than stellar representatives of Jesus. Uh, such could be said of you! Bugger, even me.... To be transparent, many of the curia and medieval bishops swam in the same tar pits. These scandalous shortcomings were very much in need of stern correction. Promptly.
   Coincidentally, the successor to the Chair of Peter, Pope Adrian VI (1522-1523), sought to bring Christ's church back into plumb, to rescue the apostate shepherds; however, by this time significant damage to Christianity and the authenticity of the Church had been sustained. Trust waned.
   Even though there were many unscrupulous deeds performed under the watch of the aforementioned popes, there was not and never has been a single dogmatic proclamation issued regarding faith and morals which was fallible. Miraculously, such an error has never been proven. Not ever. Thus, the Church continues to maintain an infallible record when teaching faith and morals, no matter how corrupt a few wayward popes may have been. How can this be? It's doubtful that these impious scoundrels and their Vatican cohorts issued any declarations of substance, whether from the pope himself or ex cathedra; after all, their interests were self serving and not aligned with glorifying God! But this only address the "why" on the surface, there is considerably more depth as to why there were no poor teachings on faith and morals.
   The "church of the living God [is] the pillar and bulwark of the truth" (1 Timothy 3:15 RSVCE). And because of this, the Holy Spirit guides the Church into all truth (John 14:26; 16:13; Acts 15:28). Thus, the gates of hell will never prevail against our Lord's church (Matthew 16:18-19). Note, it is the Office of the Pope which is infallible, not the man himself (Catechism of the Catholic Church 889-891, 2035). Remember, Saint Peter himself denied our Lord three times (John 13:36-38; 18:15-18, 25-27 RSVCE) and questioned his teachings repeatedly.
   So, to that end, reform was needed. However, such should have been handled within the Church as Saints Peter Damian, Bernard of Clairvaux, Francis de Sales, or any other number of Church Fathers would have and did engage.
   The sour taste which arises when I hear of this year's Reformation celebration is not the result of some lingering angst. That would be silly and immature. In this turbulent period of Christianity, the Catholic church manifested both profound piety and high reaching corruption, culminating in unmeasurable confusion. A sad blight. Thus, revolt.
   The vast damage which has resulted since Luther, Calvin, and a host of others rebelled is heart wrenching. Some of their grievances were sound and very much in need of resolve, no doubt, but the ensuing division has proven too painful! Surely, this outcome is not what Jesus envisioned when praying "that they may become perfectly one" (John 10:23). Or, similarly, when Saint Paul offered the following discourse: "I appeal to you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree and that there be no dissensions among you, that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment" (1 Corinthians 1:10). To the Reformers defense and credit, evidence reveals that the resulting upheaval and division was not intended. Nonetheless, there is no escaping our continued division; up to this very moment, today, we continue disunity. Ouch. The Catholic church has addressed the valid portions of Luther's grievances, so why do we continue to exist in crisis?
   Earlier this year a Catholic apostolate (ministry), The Coming Home Network International (www.chnetwork.org), posed potentially volatile questions: "In what areas do you see the strongest growth in unity among Christians...[secondly], what are the areas where we have the most work to do?" Wow!
   My relationship with Jesus was nonexistent for many years. A small army of well intentioned Bible wranglers repeatedly stood on their soap boxes in attempts to coax me into opening the door to Christ's knocks. As is easily discerned, their approaches were ineffectual. More often than not, offensive. Abrasively so. That being said, eventually I became sick and tired of being sick and tired of my own lack of purpose and began asking questions why this, that, and the other exist (including myself)? Could intelligent design be involved? Undoubtedly, there was more to life. There had to be.
   The major turning point which propelled me on a trajectory towards God was the compassion and gentleness of two friends, Doug B and Troy P. Both evangelically charged Protestants. Full disclosure: Doug is now Catholic and an Oblate of Saint Benedict's Monastery! Mind you, at that time in my Christian exploration I was merely sipping milk...tentatively.
   With their encouragement and love, I reluctantly attended a four day spiritual retreat, Keyrx. Such was nondenominational, though clearly charismatic and way non-Catholic. Curiously, its roots stem from a similar Catholic retreat, Cursillo, established by a Spanish layman in 1949. Go figure! To exhibit and promote ecumenism, there were a couple of Catholics who were members of the Keryx missionary team. The Protestant bent of this retreat is only significant insofar as my response to the Coming Home International query extends: These wonderful people showed me unadulterated Christian love. It must be disclosed that at that time I was not a Papist. For that matter, it is questionable whether I could be considered Christian! Anyway, from that point in my pilgrimage I have been a tenacious firecracker of evangelization. You can find my complete story in: "Catholic Street Evangelization, Stories of Conversion and Witness," Ignatius, ISBN 978-1-58617-988-5.
   Ever since the Keryx retreat my life has been saturated with Catholic influence. Heavily. Don't be sad, rejoice! My Catholic brothers and sisters have taken very good care of me. To those of you reading this, thank you, thank you, thank you. This notwithstanding, I have continued to be the recipient of Protestant compassion. At one point it became necessary to bow to humility and admit that, in public gatherings, I only knew how to recite memorized or printed prayers. There was an overwhelming lack of confidence when praying spontaneously. Craig B, the prison chaplain, a Protestant, provided much guidance. I was so scared and petrified. It was bad. Now? Ha, much to our Lord's chagrin, I can't be shut up!
   Not long after, I was one of thirty candidates accepted to participate in a four year pilot seminary opportunity, The Urban Ministry Institute, offered at a prison and sponsored through a Christian organization, Prison Fellowship International. The teachings and focus were decidedly Protestant. However, the faculty never once chided or belittled my faith. I was able to express my beliefs without rebuff; though, I typically saved such for term papers as it was clear that presenting such in class would be divisive and unproductive. Restraint and timing were learned. I grew in confidence and the ability to share my faith gently.
   Through this seminary and missionary pilot, I was introduced to countless volunteers who oozed the definition of living their Christianity. A beautiful experience. Very influential in my formation.
   After graduating from The Urban Ministry Institute, I have been graced by an invitation to assist with facilitating a year long Prison Fellowship program; Pre-Release, a Christian based model which prepares people to leave prison and orientate their lives in a Christlike manner. This is significant; the administrators are very much aware that I do not hide my faith. It must be noted, however, I refrain from forcing my beliefs - as an Oblate, the Rule of Saint Benedict counsels me: "Guard your lips from harmful...speech" and to "not love quarreling" (RB 4.51, 68). Instead, I live my Catholic faith with ardor. I am Christian, through and through, and there is no mistaking that. What a joy. Yahoo!
   A dear friend who I am able to share my walk and seek counsel, Elgie D, is also of the Protestant camp. He is an example of a man who exercised no preconceived notions or biases upon meeting me, or none that I am aware of. A wonderful man who has picked me up when I have felt down. He is also a soul with whom I can simply be myself and do not feel pressure to be something else. Again, an expression of Love.
   Oh, geez, I nearly forgot my mom, Betty. Okay, I did not forget her, it just seemed more practical to have her be the exclamation point, finishing with the strongest. My dear mother has been on this journey at the same time. She, too, is growing in her faith while supporting and encouraging me. From what she tells me, and there exists no reason to discount her assertions, I apparently encourage her, too! Ah, but here is the clincher: She is a Protestant! Ah, I love her despite this fault.... In all seriousness, she needs much applause - I have taken a rather scholastic approach to faith; whereas, my mom has the envious faith of a child (Mark 10:15). The poor woman no doubt scratches her head in regards to what I am sharing most of the time - let's face it, the vocabulary differences between Catholicism and Protestantism can prove unnecessarily wide.
   Now, to address the negative component of the initial inquiry presented by The Coming Home Network. Oh, how I could fill pages with frustrations and tear stained encounters with people of questionable, dare I say, Christian faith. But to what end? These challenging souls have helped me become a stronger and more vibrant Catholic! Plus, the dirty laundry has been cleaned by our Lord's blood!
   Both sides of the Christian equation are equally guilty of dysfunction. We need to be more patient and understanding of one another. Definitely, we would excel if we disposed of erroneous and preconceived notions of what the other believes. Also, we must stop holding the past against one another; let us instead forgive and come together. May we live our Christian gift of life! Geez, if we did that, um, it's plausible that we'd be more effective....
Marana tha

Biblical Ignorance

   "All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man may be complete, equipped for every good work" (2 Timothy 3:16-17 RSVCE). * * *
   Truly, truly, I say to you, when it comes to knowing scripture, Genesis to Revelation, able to quote chapter and verse, I feel inept. A failure. A poser. A fake Christian.
   Slightly over a half decade ago, my mom gifted me an exquisite Bible. Genuine leather. Gold gilded page edges. My name embossed on the cover. Words of Jesus in red - of course, everybody knows that those "red" utterances make the intensity mo' better! And, such is a Revised Standard Version...ahem, Catholic Edition. I've underlined passages in copious fashion, being ever so careful to always use a straight edge. For those who scoff at my laying of lines atop sacred pages, uh, don't freak out, but notes have also been scribbled (gently and neatly) in the margins with reserve! This sacred book is treated with care and not tossed around willy nilly. Partly because it contains declarations from God, the efficacious and living words, but more so because such is a cherished gift from my mom. A keepsake, if you will. A memento, like my rosary, both of which it is hoped will last the whole of this temporal existence. As a result, this bound collection of scripture appears pristine. And, yes, it is clear that my priorities and emphasis are backwards!
   Even prior any conversion to Christ, I was enamored by people who randomly quoted these sacred texts from memory. Though, admittedly, quite buggered when they'd use them against me! Their fluency and seemingly effortless use caused a level of discomfort, as well - it is suspected that, deep down, there existed a realization that I needed what was being spoken.
   Today, however, I am anxious when in proximity to capable evangelizers. Not because scripture is being used against me - that is, in itself, humbling and necessary to growth - but, because such amounts to a burgeoning mountain of evidence that I am unable to engage without reference to an index, concordance, or apologetical cheat sheet. There they stand, tattered and dogeared and faded Bibles in hand (or, worse, no book, mere memory), drawing passage after passage. Not necessarily to promote a theological agenda, perhaps simply to share their passion. My inability to follow suit with similar gymnastics causes me to feel so small.
   Mistakenly, some may presume preeminence being stressed over other areas of my life. To an extent, this is understandable. But the majority of my day is vastly oriented towards our Lord. But, in all fairness to these suspicions, I fall short in actually pouring over the Bible itself.      To begin with, there isn't enough time in the day. Compounding matters, if I do scratch out space to "read" scripture, my mind is tuckered and eyes have no more oomph. Those scholars who are scoffing, saying to yourselves, "Karl must not be investing himself!" Without knowing more, your conjecture would be astute. However, and this is not and excuse, I spend a nice chunk of my day praying swaths of scripture in the Liturgy of the Hours. Theology and philosophy are being studied; though, philosophy is a fairly new and ambitious interest. Blurbs of Church history and Early Church Fathers/Doctors and apologetics (the defense of the faith) are squeezed in here and there. Oh, and reading the lives of saints is particularly profitable and saturated with encouragement - how awesome it is to explore how others have converted to Jesus, navigated their particular shortcomings, and proved to be an effective witness for us all. And, yes, the time gobbled up as I write about my spiritual odyssey. Whew. A journeyman of all, master of none...but, each, in its own right, points directly to God. 
   May we now return to the opening passage - the one at the top of this essay! My non-Catholic brothers and sisters typically use this verse to promote Sola Scriptura (Scripture Alone); nothing but the Bible itself, that everything in life can be answered within those pages. Not looking any further, Sola Scriptura seems plausible. Very much so. However, the Bible does not teach or imply such a doctrine. Instead, Saint Paul, when addressing Thessalonica, counsels believers to "stand firm and hold to the traditions which you were taught by us" (2 Thessalonians 2:15a). Saint Paul goes so far as to "commend" the Christians of Corinth for "maintain[ing] the traditions...as...delivered" to them (1 Corinthians 11:2). Saint John shares in his gospel that "there are also many other things which Jesus did; were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written" (John 21:25). So important are these apostolic traditions (divine teachings handed on by the apostles themselves), we are admonished to "keep away from any brother who is living in idleness and not in accord with the tradition that you received from us" (2 Thessalonians 3:6). Now, one could propose that these apostolic traditions are those which are recorded in the Bible; however, the quantifier revolves around the apostolic traditions which were "either by word of mouth or by letter" (2 Thessalonians 2:15b). Keep in mind, when these words were spoken and or written, the Bible as we know it did not exist!
   Adding to the evidence that Sola Scriptura is contrary to Christian doctrine, Jesus himself conveys that "my [his] words will not pass away" (Mark 13:31). Yet, one has to wonder, what was meant? Remember, the Bible did not exist! Thus, one must infer that, no doubt, much of what we know about God has indeed been recorded in scripture. Though, as these holy pages inform, it would be impractical, if not impossible, to document everything Christ did. Thus, the Bible cannot possibly amount to the complete tome of what has been divinely revealed (please know that I am in no way minimizing the supernatural nature of scripture). Which begs the question, where does this guiding authority exist? In its very pages the Bible unequivocally answers this query: the Church is the "pillar and bulwark of the truth" (1 Timothy 3:15).
   Adhering to Sola Scriptura, as has just been refuted, is tantamount to "rejecting the commandment of God, in order to keep your tradition" (Mark 7:9). Mind you, this passage is referring to man-made traditions, not apostolic traditions. Man-made traditions are frowned upon if such draw believers away from God and, instead, emphasize individualistic fancies: "See to it that no one makes a prey of you by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition...and not according to Christ" (Colossians 2:8). An inherent problem is that we want to be our own scribes; however, "no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one's own interpretation" (2 Peter 1:20).
   Saint Paul offers the following warning: "For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own likings, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander into myths" (2 Timothy 4:3-4). Man-made tradition!
   Okay, getting back to the initial thrust surrounding the dilemma of feeling biblically inferior. Many of the Christians I know, who spend considerable time within the duct taped covers and coffee stained pages of their Bibles, possess a wonderful capacity to eloquently shout the biblical stories. Kudos to each and every one of them. They are profound witnesses of Christianity, especially when living one's faith in a way which glorifies our Lord. Their flair often captivates listeners. Quite frankly, I am envious! If somebody asks me, "Hey, who was Abraham speaking to when...," I don't have a clue. Or, "In what region was Jesus when...," no inkling. Aargh. Although I enjoy these stories, I am drawn with fervor to the teachings of scripture itself, both historically and their relevance today. But even then, mental acuity, or lack thereof, prevents me from standing toe to toe in gentle debate. Paper, pen, and a pile of books better suits me to constructively engage at a later date. Though, it must be admitted, I am growing considerably more confident when it comes to speaking publicly on biblical teachings and history...I simply lack the ability or discipline to memorize the passages. Oops, nearly forgot, I may be missing the charisma and panache genes, too. Perhaps my yearning to quote chapter and verse at will is vanity!
   To sum up my perceived notions of inadequacy, well, uh, such are not shortcomings, per se, but a different approach to my spirituality. As one teacher was wont to note, "Karl marches to his own drum!" Still, it would be nice to possess those other talents....
   At this moment I feel compelled to thank all of those who have provided encouragement and the gracious tools for my growth. Mom. Friends. Religious (nuns, monks, deacons, priests). Apostolates (ministries). Publishers. Lest not overlook the Holy Spirit. Uh huh, Mary, too. I am indebted to each and all.  * * *
   "Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ" (Saint Jerome).
Can I get an "Amen!"?
   Marana tha

Biblical Enemies

   When praying the Liturgy of the Hours, much emphasis is placed on the psalms. This stressing offers witness to the continuity between Judaism and Christianity; that is, for those passages somehow being understood as pointing to Christ. This advancing and endurance is awe reassuring.
   Whether praying the psalms with the Liturgy of the Hours or pouring over said passages in the pages of my Bible, there are some verses and strophes which do not seem applicable to contemporary culture. Let's face it, the Davidic enemies of antiquity were brutal. The pangs of history, for the most part, have not carried forward. Yet, even as I lay down these words, images of Christian persecution in the eastern parts of the world are numbingly evocative. Though, I am embarrassed to admit, marginalized by distance and anonymity - out of sight, out of mind. Lacking in magnanimity, otherwise self absorbed, how do these darker passages apply to my comparatively safe life?
   "His mouth is full of cursing, guile, oppression, mischief and deceit under his tongue. He lies in wait among the reeds; the innocent he murders in secret. / His eyes are on the watch for the helpless man. He lurks in hiding like a lion in his lair; he lurks in hiding to seize the poor; he seizes the poor man and drags him away. / He crouches, preparing to spring, and the helpless fall beneath his strength. He thinks in his heart: 'God forgets, he hides his face, he does not see'" (Psalm 10:7-11, Lit. Hrs. Chr. Pr. 1792). As a consequence of the community in which I live, there are people who, to some extent, meet varying attributes of the aforementioned. But, to apply the complete spectrum to a single person or group would be difficult. Then again, I do not interact in circles where such mischief might arise. Being fair, it is suspected that there are victims who would ascribe such darkness to their villains.
   "My wounds are foul and festering, the result of my own folly. I am bowed and brought to my knees. I go mourning all the day long. / All my frame burns with fever; all my body is sick. Spent and utterly crushed, I cry aloud in anguish of heart" (Psalm 38:5-8, Lit. Hrs. Chr. Pr. 1822). These thoughts would seem applicable to soldiers and warlords consistently engaged in battle. Or, peoples (slaves in biblical times) subjected to brutal dictators, kings, or masters. But, today? There were two times in adolescence where I could identify with the tumult being described, very dark times in life that I did not manage well. Tragedy, to be exact. But to pray such somber psalms today seems on the threshold of being hypocritical; that is, unless intercession is on behalf of those who are unable.
   A unique design of the Liturgy of the Hours us that such is not engaged on behalf of self. No. The intent is that the faithful recognize the needs of the whole Church - triumphant (heaven), suffering (purgatory), militant (earth) - especially the marginalized and infirm. Another name for this public and liturgical devotion is, Opus Dei. Translated, "work of God." Hence, such is recognized as the prayer of the Church. This is a remarkable discipline, awesomely beautiful and unifying.
   Universality notwithstanding, in order to effectively pray for others it is more meaningful if I can relate to the words and empathize with the persons to which I am interceding. "O Lord, plead my cause against my foes; fight those who fight me. Take up your buckler and shield; arise to help me. *** When they were sick I went into mourning, afflicted with fasting. My prayer was ever on my lips, as for a brother, a friend. I went as though mourning a mother, bowed down with grief" (Psalm 35:1-2, 13-14, Lit. Hrs. Chr. Pr. 1800, 1801). But, even if I am praying without any awareness of particulars, how refreshing it is to understand that those nondescript intercessions will undoubtedly be received on behalf of souls most desperately in need. Now, doesn't that little nugget make you warm and fuzzy inside!
   Along similar lines, there are some psalms which draw one's attention and heart towards those who have lost their voice. People who are so grief stricken that they no longer muster any hope. The imprisoned. The ostracized. The widows and orphans. The hospitalized, mentally infirm and medically incapacitated. "O God, listen to my prayer, do not hide from my pleading, attend to me and reply; with my cares, I cannot rest. / I tremble at the shouts of the foe, the cries of the wicked; for they bring down evil upon me. They assail me with fury. / My heart is stricken within me, death's terror is on me, trembling and fear fall upon me and horror overwhelms me" (Psalm 55:1-5, Lit. Hrs. Chr. Pr. 1864).
   I am reasonably confident that you now (if not before) recognize the significance of these psalms for intercessory prayer. Such was not always clear to me. Sure, it could be appreciated how passages resembling those set forth above would be applicable, but their appropriateness seemed limited. What about the average person who is not, thankfully, subjected to unthinkable hardships? Let's face it, most of us maintain relatively safe lives in comparison to Old Testament times or oppressed countries.
   Practicing a type of contemplative prayer a couple years ago, lectio divina, my comprehension was opened up. By the way, lectio divina is a discipline of reflection, where a scriptural passage is selected and meditated upon in such a manner that it becomes prayer. One set of verses in particular gave me one of those "aha" vignettes of clarity. "The nations all encompassed me; in the Lord's name I crushed them. They compassed me, compassed me about; in the Lord's name I crushed them. They compassed me about like bees; they blazed like a fire among thorns. In the Lord's name I crushed them" (Psalm 118:10-12, Lit. Hrs. Chr. Pr. 781).
   The clarity received from that session of lectio divina was pivotal to how I pray the psalms. Once ignorant of who and what the bees, enemies, foes, and wicked consist of, I now possess a more complete and practical understanding. Although people subjected to war and pillaged villages and tragic crime are valid and must very much be prayed for, there exists another category to which these same monikers of bees and enemies and foes and wicked attach. Satan! Concupiscence! Ourselves! Those spiritual battles which we exercise within our human selves, those wars which nobody else sees, those struggles which every one of us contend with. The whole Church. We all need divine help to overcome these precarious battles. From this perspective, the previously cited psalms are applicable to normal everyday life.
   Whether a family member, neighbor, person you cannot tolerate, or the scores of people who are unknown (the whole Church and humanity in general), each and all can benefit from those guiding words of wisdom from the psalmist. And, in conclusion, these intercessions need not be restricted to situations of calamity and despair, there exist psalms which are equally applicable for praise and thanksgiving, too. 
   Marana tha

Abrogated Rosary

   In our fast paced culture with all of its distractions and opportunities to excel, prayer often suffers. Whether absorbed in accomplishing some task or simply tuckered out from an exhausting day, nurturing our souls is less than at the forefront of priorities. Oddly, for reasons which would surely baffle, this disconnect similarly occurs when seeking pursuits which are holy! Yet, no matter how ensconced in the temporal or pious we may be, whispers from the Holy Spirit are recognized as he labors to draw our attention, to draw our lives.
   Shamefully, there are times when I shorten Lauds and Vespers (morning and evening prayers drawn from the Liturgy of the Hours). Either I'm worn out, irritated by environmental impediments, or plain lazy. Compounding matters, devotions to our holy Lady are more likely to be skipped altogether.
   In both accounts of shortcoming, more effort is being invested to prevent these deficiencies. The inherent problem is the ease with which time carved out for these special moments in relationship can be infringed upon.
   Saint Francis de Sales, borrowing from Blessed Angela of Foligno, offers the following counsel: "[T]he prayer that is most acceptable to God is that which is made by force and constraint." Say what? Yeah, force and constraint are exactly what devotions feel like on those occasions when busyness rules my day. Don't persecute me for what you feel, too!
   These feelings of spiritual dryness are precisely why I abandon going through the motions, so to speak. Ah, but Saint Francis further counters: "Such is the prayer to which we apply ourselves, not for the pleasure which we find in it, nor by inclination, but purely to please God...forcing aside the aridity and the distastes that oppose it."
   One hundred years ago, there roamed three little Portuguese children who were privileged to repeatedly encounter visitations from the Mother of our Lord. Lucia Santos. Jacinta Marto. And, her younger brother, Francisco Marto. These gifts have become what are collectively known as the apparitions of Our Lady of Fatima. Briefly touching upon these revelations, the Blessed Virgin Mary had requested, among other things, that these simple peasant children pray the Rosary every single day.
   For those of you familiar with this devotion, such can be cumbersome and time consuming. Albeit, wonderfully beautiful when not thinking about how long before such achieves conclusion! Lucia, Jacinta, and Francisco apparently shared similar sentiments. They were known to have significantly abrogated the Rosary, only praying the first two words of each segment of prayer!
   Whoa, I thought that their audacity was brash and more than a tad impious to trample one of traditions most revered devotions. Plus, how did this flippant behavior impact Mary? Though, secretly, I mulled the possibility with a smidgen of enthusiasm!
   Concluding with Vespers one evening, after reflecting on the memorial of Saint Justin Marytr, I felt the Holy Spirit prod me towards the Rosary. Surprised that I was able to complete the Liturgy of the Hours without interruption just moments before, there was concern that any other prayer would be impractical.
   If you haven't already noticed, I was in one of those moods where rebelliousness and self pampering were beginning to influence.
   It is not clear whether Our Lady of Fatima or laziness spoke, but the appeal of the abrogated Rosary resonated. So, I indulged the allure of fastidiousness! But, in the far reaches of conscience was the concern that I was about to reduce this devotion to some superfluous muttering.
   Trying to be reverent, some modicum of respect, I shut the door of my prayer closet when entering the ethereal realm in which the Rosary reveals. Honestly, not anticipating much. My heart was not rightly focused. Letting the Holy Spirit guide me, I opted to swim in the depths of the Sorrowful Mysteries. Unexpectedly, I prayed the words which Saint Justin calmly spoke (present tense) during his persecution and martyrdom (d. 165). How? I was there, in spirit, witnessing such, breathing the heaviness of the moment. Yet, he had no fear. If anything, Saint Justin was relieved and anticipating the ecstasy of the next life. This vignette was disarming, to say the least.
   An incredible privilege to be a witness of triumphant fidelity!
   What was anticipated to be a very short Rosary had in turn proved to overflow with richness. Each word, albeit only two at a time, possessed a unique vastness. On a side note, this prayer was anything but brief!
   Saint Francis offers these closing insights: "The less we consult our own particular interest in the pursuit of virtue, the more brilliantly does the purity of divine love shine forth...."
   I owe a debt of gratitude to Lucia, Jacinta, and Francisco. Mary and Saint Justin, as well. Thank you.
   Marana tha

Submission

   The grass always appears greener on the other side, but seldom are we aware of the consequences of crossing the threshold.
   Like any other aspect of life, there are those encounters which weigh us down and cause us to feel as if we are trodding through life as opposed to skipping about with gleeful abandon. Oftentimes, thankfully, the Holy Spirit extends to us the strength to endure. Okay, our Lord always provides the fortitude to persevere, but let's face it, sometimes we just get tired and stop looking for God's guiding hand and elect to navigate hurdles on our own (well, at least I do).
   Case in point: I have a roommate who often makes choices which baffle me. Nonetheless, I tend to embrace him because our Lord placed us together to grow, support, and encourage one another. Ah, but there are those moments where we think we have achieved enough in life and tend to look down on others.... Yes, I am guilty of this!
   There came a point in our relationship where he made a choice which could indeed bring adverse repercussions on not only himself, but also on me. To be blunt, I was a little more than agitated. This behavior caused me concern and I began weighing the value of our friendship. The next morning an opportunity for me to move had presented itself. Oh, how I desperately wanted to move; there were so many benefits of the grass being greener in the new location. However, there was also this nagging loyalty thorn poking me in the side. After all, how could I abandon my roommate, a friend. Yet, there were all the small environmental sufferings which attached to my current accommodations (none of which were the fault of my roommate). Perhaps our Lord had intended that I carry such - that is how I had coped with these impediments up to this point! Ah, the mind manipulating matters as it is prone to do, perhaps our Lord was giving me a way out?
   The choice was made: I placed a request to be moved. Yet, something unforeseen happened: The case manager discouraged me from following through. I knew that if I would have pushed harder with my request that he would have approved the move. Yet, considering all of my earlier wrestling with this decision, I accepted the roadblock as an intervention from God. Am not sure why, but the Holy Spirit is working to keep things status quo.
   Later that day I received a magazine in the mail from Catholic Answers. On the cover was an artistic depiction of our Lady of Fatima. The same art of our holy Mother which is displayed on my wall.... Was this a sign approving how things worked out and stayed the same?
Marana tha.