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.

Biblical Worldview

   Throughout much of adolescence I was not enthralled with school. If anything, I was the antithesis to the concept of study. Part of this was due, no doubt, to poor experiences associated with certain members of the student body. However, there was also another equally paralyzing quantifier: Much of the lessons did not seem practical to my simple worldview ideals.
   In a tragic turn of events I found myself grasping for anything familiar in my childhood, desperately seeking relevance. Consequently, this turned into not only reflection, but also study.
   During a recent elective on biblical philosophy the facilitator, Pastor Harold, posed the following query: "Do you have a willingness to die for your core beliefs?"
   It must be admitted that at first I found such an allegiance to be, well, extreme. Plus, my immediate distaste for this concept also revealed how weak my faith is. In my mind I visualized myself being made to kneel before persecutors armed with swords demanding that I renounce my love of God and our holy Mother - would I crumble or remain resolved. The answer exists in those moments when we are tempted by concupiscence: Will I glorify our Lord or self? Since I have a proclivity of minimizing God and elevating my own interests in the moment...well, you get the idea.
   As we visited this concept more deeply, the Holy Spirit offered a moment of clarity. An alternative, if you will. Perhaps the willingness to die for core beliefs is not necessarily in the context of physical death, though valiant nonetheless, but the resolve to instead stand resolute in the face of adversity from contemporary culture! Would this, too, amount to death?
   How many rimes have we been confronted by so called friends to engage in some activity which failed to glorify God? Maybe we were the instigators? What about those times when we recognize the Holy Spirit encouraging us to proclaim our faith, whether through word or action?
   Those are tough questions and the answers soberly reveal where we are at in our relationship with our Lord and neighbor.
   I fail miserably in my constitution to live my Christianity. However, I can also see how far our Lord has brought me. Just several years ago I would not be seen with my Bible (it was not uncommon for me to conceal those words of life in a paper sack). I would not so much as speak of Jesus in mixed company. Yet, these past several years the Lord has increased my courage. Such has come at a cost, though. I have been fortunate to live in a Christian environment for the past several years; but, the resulting consequences have not been those of glee. See, because of the tenets of Christianity which I embrace are not popular (Catholic), life in this environment (predominantly Protestant) has been particularly lonely. Even among those who profess to hold the same beliefs.
   Thus, are we willing to stand firm in our beliefs in the face of ridicule and potential ostracizeation?
Marana tha....

Broken Jesus

   "[H]is living, active word is to me a kiss" (Sermons on the Song of Songs, St. Bernard of Clairvaux).* * *
   Helping to set up for Mass this morning - when I went to place the crucifix in its stand a brad fell out. As it was, the crucifix was already missing the nail securing the feet of Jesus. Thus, losing one of the two remaining fasteners, Jesus hung off kilter.
   The brad hitting the altar and bouncing was consciously recorded. However, as I did not continue to hear a dissipating series of ricochets, you know, in a way which would lead one to believe the object in question remained on a hard surface, it became evident that such was somewhere on the floor. A carpeted floor.
   Laying the crucifix on an adjacent table I proceeded on hands and knees, face to the floor, doing my best to discern the location of a tiny, brass nail. In the process an early arriving congregant inquired as to what I was doing - "a newfangled form of adoration" is what I wanted to retort, but chose to hold my tongue. After all, his question was fair; moreover, the chapel is not the place for buffoonery. In lieu of using words, I simply grasped the crucifix and held it out as though I was trying to fend off demons or vampires. Ahem, that was not the effect I was striving for; it just happened that way. Drollery.       So much for etiquette. To make matters worse, the corpus hung from the cross with one arm, looking very much like, excuse me, a swinging orangutan or sottish superhero! Immediately, it became apparent how much worse it would have been if Jesus had been crucified like this (not as though three points of attachment were any more agreeable). Sobering. With humiliation and regret I promptly laid the crucifix on the table and resumed my search of the missing brad, asking Jesus to forgive me for such poor thoughts.
   Alas, the brad was found! Aligning the holes in preparation to push the nail firmly back into place, I found myself arrested in thought, apprehensive, paralyzed in horror. Albeit, a plain ol' cross adorned with a carved figure, a tool, if you will, I had been about to plunge a spike through the wrist of Jesus so he could be displayed as a reminder for all. At that moment, I was living it. Acutely aware, taken back two thousand years....
   Time coming to a stop, I watched soldiers handle our Lord without regard for the dignity of human life, much less the reverence due to God. Did any of them secretly despise the task with which they were charged to carry out? Was it possible that even one of them suspected they were crucifying the Messiah? Were they afraid of peer pressure? Did they experience upheaval in their stomachs and feel compelled to refuse; however, proceeded because of inherent consequences?
   The weight of such ponderings complicates the process of despising these pawns in history, systematically and automatically. For perspective, how many times have we engaged in activities which were in apposite to God's will but we were too weak to stop? What about those circumstances where friends (or bullies) led us down a path in which we were uncomfortable but lacked the confidence and fortitude to speak up?
   Tentatively, I looked up. Perhaps to find my bearings. Maybe to ensure I was still where I was, confirming what I had been holding was indeed a crucifix and brad. Whatever the reason, I happened to notice another member of our community looking back, eyes alive with depth...we made a connection and I could read that he had similarly participated in these strange thoughts. Without so much as muttering a word, we bonded. "For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Matthew 18:20 RSVCE).
   Note: The corpus is now affixed to his cross with, of all things, bread ties!
Marana tha....