It occurs to me that anyone who bases their impression of the state of my marriage on my blog posts - or other outlets I might use to vent when I need to - must think I'm miserable most of the time.
Not so.
This is where I share things that are on my mind, but when what's on my mind is how well things are going, well, I'm usually already sharing that with someone, and when things are going well with our marriage, the person I'm sharing it with is my bride. When things aren't going well, I am finding chances to talk about that with her, too, but I often want to chew on my thoughts a little first, and this space helps me do that.
So here we are in the midst of a busy (as always) Triduum weekend, and I'm about to go out to buy her an Easter card. But I'm pretty skeptical of finding one that expresses how grateful I am to be sharing our resurrected life in Christ together, and that also says how much I appreciate how she's grown spiritually, and how much sharing life with her helps me to walk as I am called, and how deeply I love her. The fact is that our marriage does for me exactly what the sacrament is supposed to do, and I'm pretty confident that it is doing the same for her: helps each of us grow into the beloved son and daughter of God that we are called to be.
I am so blessed to be yoked with such a partner in the journey. I'll have to look for a card that leaves me room to say all of that in addition to whatever message they manufactured it with.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
More Good Friday thoughts
From separate sources, yet connected:
Lord Jesus,
raise us from our own falls,
lead our wandering spirit
back to your Truth.
Do not allow human reason,
which you created for yourself,
to be satisfied with the partial truths
of science and technology
without seeking to pose the fundamental questions
of the meaning of our existence
(cf. Porta Fidei, 12).
as quoted in the Way of the Cross at the Colosseum, Stations of the Cross led by the Holy Father Pope Francis, Good Friday, The Passion of the Lord Meditations by Lebanese young people under the guidance of His Eminent Beatitude Cardinal Béchara Boutros Raï (as requested by His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI)
This resonated with me, for the exact reason that modern science uses to reject the role of faith. Scientists insist that clinging to the concept of a creator of our universe will suppress the discovery of all that science can learn. If we don't seek out answers because we simply attribute everything that exists to God, we can never discover in full the workings of this universe. And as much as I hate that science has concluded that there is no way to allow any room for God in any "scientific" answer or endeavor, I understand the logic of this concern.
But if we conclude that our existence is a cosmic accident with no greater meaning, we arrive at the same problem! If we assume that there is no fundamental meaning of our existence, we will never seek it, and therefore can never hope to find it.
These two endeavors need not be mutually exclusive, and I love how Pope Benedict in his papacy emphasized the need for each to embrace the other.
These pages are an exploration into mystery. The word "mystery" in this context doesn't mean a puzzle, as in a murder mystery. It is not a thing to be solved, but an adventure into wonder, with each wonder that we encounter leading on to the next and greater wonder. - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon
I didn't read this book this Lent. I thought I might be "all reflected out" on it. But no, here within the few pages I read on Good Friday I find a thought connected to the one that struck me as I prayed the Stations earlier. We have become so arrogant as to conclude that if a thing appears insolvable, we must reject it rather than allow ourselves to "pointlessly" ponder a thing that we have firmly made up our minds about.
For instance, many have seen the truth that "there is great suffering in the world" as incontrovertible evidence that the idea that "God is perfect love" must be false. If we begin with the stance that there is no greater meaning to our existence, we will not allow ourselves to consider how we might be reaching a wrong conclusion.
After all, what sort of love is unwilling to suffer for our beloved?
So the idea that this world is not the be all and end all of our existence does indeed cost us experiences that we might embrace if it is not so, and it is impossible for us to solve the "puzzle" of how these two things could both be true if we are convinced that the invention of religion - and an afterlife in particular - serves the primary purpose of relieving us of the stark reality of our mortality. If we believe that, then there's no point in trying to make sense of the death of an (allegedly) good man 2000 years ago: it was simply the evil of religion rearing its ugly head again.
But if our existence indeed has a greater meaning - if the pain of this life serves some purpose, if sacrificial love matters in the cosmic scheme of things, if there is an eternity for us to enter into, if we're not just an accident of physics like countless others before us and countless more to come - we can only learn that by trying to plumb how it might be true rather than insisting that it can't be.
This takes a humility which is counter to our nature, and Christians are often as removed from it as atheists are.
Lord Jesus,
raise us from our own falls,
lead our wandering spirit
back to your Truth.
Do not allow human reason,
which you created for yourself,
to be satisfied with the partial truths
of science and technology
without seeking to pose the fundamental questions
of the meaning of our existence
(cf. Porta Fidei, 12).
as quoted in the Way of the Cross at the Colosseum, Stations of the Cross led by the Holy Father Pope Francis, Good Friday, The Passion of the Lord Meditations by Lebanese young people under the guidance of His Eminent Beatitude Cardinal Béchara Boutros Raï (as requested by His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI)
This resonated with me, for the exact reason that modern science uses to reject the role of faith. Scientists insist that clinging to the concept of a creator of our universe will suppress the discovery of all that science can learn. If we don't seek out answers because we simply attribute everything that exists to God, we can never discover in full the workings of this universe. And as much as I hate that science has concluded that there is no way to allow any room for God in any "scientific" answer or endeavor, I understand the logic of this concern.
But if we conclude that our existence is a cosmic accident with no greater meaning, we arrive at the same problem! If we assume that there is no fundamental meaning of our existence, we will never seek it, and therefore can never hope to find it.
These two endeavors need not be mutually exclusive, and I love how Pope Benedict in his papacy emphasized the need for each to embrace the other.
These pages are an exploration into mystery. The word "mystery" in this context doesn't mean a puzzle, as in a murder mystery. It is not a thing to be solved, but an adventure into wonder, with each wonder that we encounter leading on to the next and greater wonder. - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon
I didn't read this book this Lent. I thought I might be "all reflected out" on it. But no, here within the few pages I read on Good Friday I find a thought connected to the one that struck me as I prayed the Stations earlier. We have become so arrogant as to conclude that if a thing appears insolvable, we must reject it rather than allow ourselves to "pointlessly" ponder a thing that we have firmly made up our minds about.
For instance, many have seen the truth that "there is great suffering in the world" as incontrovertible evidence that the idea that "God is perfect love" must be false. If we begin with the stance that there is no greater meaning to our existence, we will not allow ourselves to consider how we might be reaching a wrong conclusion.
After all, what sort of love is unwilling to suffer for our beloved?
So the idea that this world is not the be all and end all of our existence does indeed cost us experiences that we might embrace if it is not so, and it is impossible for us to solve the "puzzle" of how these two things could both be true if we are convinced that the invention of religion - and an afterlife in particular - serves the primary purpose of relieving us of the stark reality of our mortality. If we believe that, then there's no point in trying to make sense of the death of an (allegedly) good man 2000 years ago: it was simply the evil of religion rearing its ugly head again.
But if our existence indeed has a greater meaning - if the pain of this life serves some purpose, if sacrificial love matters in the cosmic scheme of things, if there is an eternity for us to enter into, if we're not just an accident of physics like countless others before us and countless more to come - we can only learn that by trying to plumb how it might be true rather than insisting that it can't be.
This takes a humility which is counter to our nature, and Christians are often as removed from it as atheists are.
Holy Thursday/Good Friday adoration reflection, 2013
(The time indicated below is for the benefit of one brother who might like to know a specific time that I was lifting him up in prayer, and others who are also praying for him. Also, this color text was in my mind but not on the paper.)
With Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel at St. Helen Parish:
Usually, Lord, I am here at a later hour, and my meditations have moved on to the events of that holiest Friday when you finished pouring out your life for me. Perhaps I have given this time with you in the Garden short shrift, so maybe it is appropriate, Lord, that I am here earlier this year, at the conclusion of a Lent in which I have frequently fallen asleep, as (if I may be so bold) my fellow disciples are doing this night. You have called us to keep watch, and though you have gone off to pray, Lord, where I can't see you, I will wait this night with Peter, James and John, and await in prayer what is to come.
After night prayer:
Fr. Satish, our associate pastor, has encouraged us to view the Triduum through the eyes/perspective of one of the witnesses of these events. I am finding myself drawn to Peter:
Take this first Eucharist that you shared with us tonight, Lord. Even with two thousand years of perspective, even as deeply as I think I've entered into and experienced it, I know I have only begun to feast on your Presence. How much more confusing it must have been for Peter and the others who partook of this Paschal meal with you while your Passover was not yet complete! No wonder we celebrate these three days as one event of salvation. You give us your Body and Blood in the upper room, but the giving isn't finished until tomorrow when you die, or fulfilled until Sunday morning when you rise again, or completed until we are transformed in you. Just as each Passover your chosen people celebrate their own delivery from slavery, so at each Eucharist we are present with you in the upper room, and at Calvary, and at the heavenly banquet we will celebrate with you for all eternity. Then we will get it.
But now I just hunger for you, Lord, that the infinite, eternal, holy You which (whom) you give us will take hold of my limited, time-bound sinful self and transform me as you long to, for my sake.
And like Peter, Lord, I often don't fully get the fullness of this foot washing thing. I keep feeling as if being yours carries with it some sort of perquisite, some benefit that I can get puffed up about. I sometimes feel "above" being served and so miss the crux of really laying down my life and serving. Of course, tomorrow you're going to show what that really means, but we're still in the Garden, and I think I shouldn't rush ahead just yet. Let me realize for a while that I'm still confused, I still don't "get" all of it. And though I've fallen asleep at times this Lent, Lord, I know you're going to use even that for good, somehow.
How often, Lord, we eat of you without allowing you to fully transform us into you.
11:07 p.m. (which is 8:07 where a dear brother is who is on my heart:)
As I sit here in your Presence, keeping watch, I am reminded both of my unworthiness of you and of the wrong ideas I've had of my unworthiness. I've had the idea that it is either something that disqualifies me from you or something I must amend. I know that this thing you're doing for me, Jesus, is exactly to address the whole issue of my sin, to teach me the full extent of love. I'm so grateful to be here with you, and pray that my brother has a deep sense of being with you, too, this night in the Garden and throughout the sacred Triduum. Bless him, Lord, with a deep, peaceful awareness of being in your Presence, of being in You.
Has Simon Peter drawn his sword yet and cut off Malchus' ear? So many of us who follow you are trying to defend you rather than lay down our lives with you! We think we're doing right, but in getting militant we fail to love, fail to allow you to love through us. Help us instead drink the Cup you have given us, the cup of your Blood.
later:
As I sit and struggle for alertness, for focus, I'm struck by how judgmental we can be of others' shortcomings. How often I hear people put down the apostles for not quite "getting it," failing to see how inadequately we ourselves have gotten it so far. Likewise when we spout the phrase, "There but for the grace of God go I," we too often mean something more like a Pharisaic prayer: "Thank you, God, that I'm not like that wretch!" It is an odd and great blessing to know my own wretchedness and be transformed by Jesus out of it.
My Jesus, you're about to be betrayed by someone you love. Too often it has been me. I pray tonight that instead of abandoning you, denying you, or betraying you, I might instead walk along your way.
With Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel at St. Helen Parish:
Usually, Lord, I am here at a later hour, and my meditations have moved on to the events of that holiest Friday when you finished pouring out your life for me. Perhaps I have given this time with you in the Garden short shrift, so maybe it is appropriate, Lord, that I am here earlier this year, at the conclusion of a Lent in which I have frequently fallen asleep, as (if I may be so bold) my fellow disciples are doing this night. You have called us to keep watch, and though you have gone off to pray, Lord, where I can't see you, I will wait this night with Peter, James and John, and await in prayer what is to come.
After night prayer:
Fr. Satish, our associate pastor, has encouraged us to view the Triduum through the eyes/perspective of one of the witnesses of these events. I am finding myself drawn to Peter:
"I would go to jail or even die for you!"Lord, you know how like him I am anyway: rushing into commitments I don't understand; thinking I've "got it" in one moment only to have you remind me in the next that I will never in this life be able to fully "get" all of you there is to be gotten. And how many times have I denied you with my own decisions? You don't rebuke me harshly in any of this, Lord, unless I get stubborn about it.
"You will never wash my feet!"
"I do not know the man!"
Take this first Eucharist that you shared with us tonight, Lord. Even with two thousand years of perspective, even as deeply as I think I've entered into and experienced it, I know I have only begun to feast on your Presence. How much more confusing it must have been for Peter and the others who partook of this Paschal meal with you while your Passover was not yet complete! No wonder we celebrate these three days as one event of salvation. You give us your Body and Blood in the upper room, but the giving isn't finished until tomorrow when you die, or fulfilled until Sunday morning when you rise again, or completed until we are transformed in you. Just as each Passover your chosen people celebrate their own delivery from slavery, so at each Eucharist we are present with you in the upper room, and at Calvary, and at the heavenly banquet we will celebrate with you for all eternity. Then we will get it.
But now I just hunger for you, Lord, that the infinite, eternal, holy You which (whom) you give us will take hold of my limited, time-bound sinful self and transform me as you long to, for my sake.
And like Peter, Lord, I often don't fully get the fullness of this foot washing thing. I keep feeling as if being yours carries with it some sort of perquisite, some benefit that I can get puffed up about. I sometimes feel "above" being served and so miss the crux of really laying down my life and serving. Of course, tomorrow you're going to show what that really means, but we're still in the Garden, and I think I shouldn't rush ahead just yet. Let me realize for a while that I'm still confused, I still don't "get" all of it. And though I've fallen asleep at times this Lent, Lord, I know you're going to use even that for good, somehow.
How often, Lord, we eat of you without allowing you to fully transform us into you.
11:07 p.m. (which is 8:07 where a dear brother is who is on my heart:)
As I sit here in your Presence, keeping watch, I am reminded both of my unworthiness of you and of the wrong ideas I've had of my unworthiness. I've had the idea that it is either something that disqualifies me from you or something I must amend. I know that this thing you're doing for me, Jesus, is exactly to address the whole issue of my sin, to teach me the full extent of love. I'm so grateful to be here with you, and pray that my brother has a deep sense of being with you, too, this night in the Garden and throughout the sacred Triduum. Bless him, Lord, with a deep, peaceful awareness of being in your Presence, of being in You.
Has Simon Peter drawn his sword yet and cut off Malchus' ear? So many of us who follow you are trying to defend you rather than lay down our lives with you! We think we're doing right, but in getting militant we fail to love, fail to allow you to love through us. Help us instead drink the Cup you have given us, the cup of your Blood.
later:
As I sit and struggle for alertness, for focus, I'm struck by how judgmental we can be of others' shortcomings. How often I hear people put down the apostles for not quite "getting it," failing to see how inadequately we ourselves have gotten it so far. Likewise when we spout the phrase, "There but for the grace of God go I," we too often mean something more like a Pharisaic prayer: "Thank you, God, that I'm not like that wretch!" It is an odd and great blessing to know my own wretchedness and be transformed by Jesus out of it.
My Jesus, you're about to be betrayed by someone you love. Too often it has been me. I pray tonight that instead of abandoning you, denying you, or betraying you, I might instead walk along your way.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
How people avoid God
I keep seeing people offer encouragement in the form of "positive thoughts" or "vibes."
So let me get this straight: you don't believe in a God who hears and answers prayer, but you believe that there are some sort of cosmic rays that the brain sends out that affect people's circumstances, and that it's helpful to "think good thoughts" to make sure the energy aligns in such a way as to produce the desired outcome?
(I''d bet that atheists would be as disdainful of this as of belief in God.)
Maybe this hunger to believe we have more power than we do is more universal than we acknowledge, and this is what Pascal meant when he alluded to what we now refer to as a "God-shaped hole in the human soul." Maybe it's just an acknowledgement of our utter inability to control things beyond us. But it seems to me that many of us, and this includes many Christian believers, want to have some sort of supernatural influence on things beyond us without having anyone tell us what is best for us.
So let me get this straight: you don't believe in a God who hears and answers prayer, but you believe that there are some sort of cosmic rays that the brain sends out that affect people's circumstances, and that it's helpful to "think good thoughts" to make sure the energy aligns in such a way as to produce the desired outcome?
(I''d bet that atheists would be as disdainful of this as of belief in God.)
Maybe this hunger to believe we have more power than we do is more universal than we acknowledge, and this is what Pascal meant when he alluded to what we now refer to as a "God-shaped hole in the human soul." Maybe it's just an acknowledgement of our utter inability to control things beyond us. But it seems to me that many of us, and this includes many Christian believers, want to have some sort of supernatural influence on things beyond us without having anyone tell us what is best for us.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Today's word
flehmen \FLAY-mun\ - a mammalian behavior (as of horses or cats) in which the animal inhales with the mouth open and upper lip curled to facilitate exposure of the vomeronasal organ to a scent or pheromone
What a great new word!! I find myself flehmening just to demonstrate to myself what they're talking about, though.
Why I don't put my foot down . . .
( . . . as someone has advised):
First of all, we're long beyond my putting my foot down in our relationship, outside of some very specific circumstances that we don't really seem to encounter anymore. Our marriage doesn't work like that, and didn't even when I thought it did. That was part of all the control issues I had to work on in the process of our building a healthier life together when we were preparing to reconcile as a family.
Secondly, I think we're addressing on our own the things I have found most frustrating, if gradually. The thing we've probably needed most is for me to communicate my feelings with you better, but I think we're making progress, as evidenced by our both checking in with each other before pursuing separating choices in our daily lives. This communication has been really helping me over the past week, and I hope we keep it going.
Then there are the matters of a) encouraging changes in you for your own sake rather trying to impose them on you, and b) accepting and loving you for who you are rather than trying to make you someone else for me, even (especially) under the guise of it being "for our sake."
But there is another big reason of a very different sort: in recent years I've discovered a part of me that, frankly, even I found more than a little scary, at least as I was figuring out my balance on it. I suppose I'd tried to deny it for the longest time, then looked for and have learned how to accept it without indulging it. Still, it would doubtless intimidate and frighten you - unnecessarily so, since a) there is nothing to be done about it that wouldn't hurt you, and I'm done with hurting you, and b) if you ever became not scared about it, you'd want, for my sake, for there to be some outlet for this aspect of me that also honors who we are, and there never can be. (Okay, enough a's and b's, and run-on sentences of every sort, for one post.)
So the bigger truth of this last thing is that the part of me that I've long been embracing and expressing in our life together is far more important than this more recently discovered part. Accepting this has helped me with that other area I've struggled with for so long, which you asked me about last night. In some relationships, the honesty of sharing it with you would be the most important thing. Maybe I'm deceiving myself to think it isn't for us, too. But it isn't as if no one in the world knows, though I have kept it pretty close to the vest. I've only told one person outright (not who you might think), who pretty much agrees with how I've been handling it. I will talk about it with you if you ever ask, and I think I've given you enough of an opening that you could if you want, but I'm not going to bring it up to you or force the discussion on you in any way.
Meanwhile, I think it's better to just keep giving myself to you in the ways in which you're comfortable, and not making you wonder about the rest. And really, there are other, more basic and central parts of myself that we're finally figuring out how to accommodate.
First of all, we're long beyond my putting my foot down in our relationship, outside of some very specific circumstances that we don't really seem to encounter anymore. Our marriage doesn't work like that, and didn't even when I thought it did. That was part of all the control issues I had to work on in the process of our building a healthier life together when we were preparing to reconcile as a family.
Secondly, I think we're addressing on our own the things I have found most frustrating, if gradually. The thing we've probably needed most is for me to communicate my feelings with you better, but I think we're making progress, as evidenced by our both checking in with each other before pursuing separating choices in our daily lives. This communication has been really helping me over the past week, and I hope we keep it going.
Then there are the matters of a) encouraging changes in you for your own sake rather trying to impose them on you, and b) accepting and loving you for who you are rather than trying to make you someone else for me, even (especially) under the guise of it being "for our sake."
But there is another big reason of a very different sort: in recent years I've discovered a part of me that, frankly, even I found more than a little scary, at least as I was figuring out my balance on it. I suppose I'd tried to deny it for the longest time, then looked for and have learned how to accept it without indulging it. Still, it would doubtless intimidate and frighten you - unnecessarily so, since a) there is nothing to be done about it that wouldn't hurt you, and I'm done with hurting you, and b) if you ever became not scared about it, you'd want, for my sake, for there to be some outlet for this aspect of me that also honors who we are, and there never can be. (Okay, enough a's and b's, and run-on sentences of every sort, for one post.)
So the bigger truth of this last thing is that the part of me that I've long been embracing and expressing in our life together is far more important than this more recently discovered part. Accepting this has helped me with that other area I've struggled with for so long, which you asked me about last night. In some relationships, the honesty of sharing it with you would be the most important thing. Maybe I'm deceiving myself to think it isn't for us, too. But it isn't as if no one in the world knows, though I have kept it pretty close to the vest. I've only told one person outright (not who you might think), who pretty much agrees with how I've been handling it. I will talk about it with you if you ever ask, and I think I've given you enough of an opening that you could if you want, but I'm not going to bring it up to you or force the discussion on you in any way.
Meanwhile, I think it's better to just keep giving myself to you in the ways in which you're comfortable, and not making you wonder about the rest. And really, there are other, more basic and central parts of myself that we're finally figuring out how to accommodate.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
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