One Week
This summer was the first time Benedict went off to overnight camp by himself. The camp was a Catholic co-ed camp that came highly recommended by his uncle. We drove him over on a Sunday afternoon, got his bunk set up, and said goodbye.
As I backed out of the parking lot, he was standing, hands in his pockets, with his counselor and two other boys. A football was being thrown, other parents were getting their kids set up, and everyone was milling about. I wasn’t sure at that moment how things would go.
Throughout the week, the camp posted photos of the activities. Alison and I would wait up late into the evening for the day’s photo dump, and try to quickly find pictures of Benedict. The kids were playing paintball, goofing off at the waterfront, climbing on the high ropes course, and more. There were photos of the liturgies and adoration. The first day, there was a group picture; he looked good. There was a second, more casual picture, he looked like part of the crew. There was a picture of him in the high ropes harness, he looked happy.
We send him notes throughout the week; ones from us, ones from family, even ones from the dog. He wasn’t able to reply, but each day’s photo haul brought more reassurance. Wednesday’s picture had him in Adoration, touching the Monstrance, looking serene.
Pickup was on Friday at noon. I took his sisters, and we found a seat in the back of the Church. The kids were giving testimonies about their experiences, I looked at the line and saw Benedict in the back. This is not something I’d expect Benedict to do, but sure enough, he did. He shared about his doubts before camp and now, having encountered God, is changed. We celebrated Mass, grabbed his gear, and began the trek home.
It was about 75 minutes of driving to get to lunch at Chick-fil-A and Benedict talked the whole time. He talked non-stop about his week of fun, faith, and friends.
It’s been a month since camp, but the change in his interior life is shining through. It’s incredible what just five days can do when you’re open to it. If only we as adults had the faith and innocence of children, what great things could we experience?
Last Day of Summer
As quickly as it arrived, summer is on the cusp of closing out. The idyllic days of leisure, with clear schedules and no homework, give way to the rhythm of the school year.
As my children enter higher grades, our calendar is an explosion of activity. Virtual classes, computer assignments, and extracurriculars now fill my calendar in a way that they never have before. Weekly defined tasks and objectives have focused in on immovable class times and date-specific deadlines. This is a brave new world for us.
It’s been a great summer for the kids. They’ve had neighbor friends to play with, there have been trips to see cousins, late nights catching fireflies, and so much more. I hope this is one that they’ll benchmark all the others against.
Some may dread the return of school, but structure and learning are two good things. As the air cools and the routines settle in for this new season of life, new joys, opportunities, and adventures await.
Resets
Constant renewal is the call of the Christian life, and the desire for starting fresh marries up nicely with cultural pulls. We want to live our best lives, and we would like to do it all at once, starting now. I would rather not be who I am today, so staring now, I’m a new person.
These resets come on strong, especially in the new year, but fizzle quickly. Inertia overtakes momentum and, as it turns out, we’re the same people we always were.
This desire for positive change, admirable as it is, is a recognition that I am not who I want to be. Instead of becoming that person someday, what if there was a way we could start it today?
There is such a way, to be made entirely new, to be handed a fresh opportunity to live life a different way, and that is through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. In it, we name the ways in which we have fallen, gaining power over them, and receive the very grace of God to begin life anew.
Resets are important, and when you walk out of the Confessional, you can be entirely certain that you’re made new. The only question is, what are you going to do with this reset?
Why
It’s easy to tell ourselves that we should trust in God. We should, but we rarely act like it. Instead, we turn to humanity’s favorite question, “Why?”
Why does life have to be so hard, why am I here, why do I feel so insecure?
These questions are relatable and understandable. While they may reflect an inner disposition that is spiritually ill, the search for answers also opens up for us a doorway towards the mind of God.
Our purpose is to know, love, and be in a relationship with God. God wills what is truly good for us, but for that desire to be complete, we must participate. We have to yield what, we think, is good for us to give way to what is actually good for us.
Every challenge that we face, every situation that generates a thousand why’s gives us the chance to respond with a single yes. We do not have the full picture, but by trusting in God’s providence, in His trustworthy promises, we can be confident that the Why is for our own good, and the good of others.
Doubt
St. Thomas, along with his brother Apostles, spent three full years in ministry with Jesus. He traveled with them, lived with them, ate with them, and slept with them. He saw the great works of Jesus, and experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows.
After the Resurrection, he was the only Apostle not present when Jesus first came into the Upper Room. Upon his return, his brothers must have been ecstatic to share with him further confirmation that the Easter rumors were true. His response?
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:25
He heard this incredible news, the fulfillment of what he dedicated a considerable portion of his adult life to, and he doubted. One quote in a man’s life, forever tagged with the “Doubting Thomas” moniker.
The insertion of this story, but also the fact that one Apostle was conspicuously absent when Jesus appeared, is an injection of hope for us modern-day doubters. We’ve read the stories, heard the news, and studied the theology. But still, no matter how great and personal our encounters with God have been, we have moments where we question. Can it all be true? How can this be real?
In His ministry, many people asked Jesus to work signs and wonders for Him.
Many of them were probably sincere in their doubt. They thought, “If I could just see something with my eyes, then I can be freed of this doubt and believe.” It’s easy to imagine how we would react if Jesus was back, but we only learned about him on short form videos and social media. Would we believe?
Doubt is curiosity of the intellect, contending with difficult truths, and discovering the beautiful gift waiting for us in plain sight. God asks us to have faith like children: they hear and believe. Still, He will be satisfied with our belief if we choose to accept and love Him after a review of the evidence.
St. Paul told us to test everything. True doubt is not an outright rejection, but a reserved acceptance. We want to believe, but we need to gather more information. The test of or mettle is what conclusions we draw at the end. Have the courage to go out and find that information; read the documents, find the right book, listen to podcasts, and go deeper in prayer. Place your finger into the nailmarks and your hand into His side. And in the final analysis, when you have all the research and your hands are covered in His blood, choose life.
Vocation
In God’s plan of salvation, we each play a role. Whether quietly ministering to our corner of the world, or gaining some degree of fame through skill or office, we’re invited to do our small part to carry forward His vision. In Catholicism, we traditionally consider this to be vocation. Every vocation is one of service and holiness; what changes is the recipients of our good actions. In marriage, spouses minister to each other and their families, calling both on to holiness. In priestly and religious life, the recipients of ministry is the Church herself.
Yesterday we celebrated the 40th jubilee of the priest who married Alison and I. For one hour, thirteen years ago, this priest celebrated our wedding and now our home is full of children striving for holiness. And that was just one hour of his priesthood.
Moments like this lay bare the effect of good works and good action. In one small moment, one yes can reverberate throughout time and space causing more goodness, more light, more holiness. This is the power of yes and the power of vocation, like a ripple in a lake, growing bigger and spreading far beyond just the first action. Though we may not always see it, or even know its effects, we always accomplish greater things when we say yes to God and to our vocation.
Delay
It’s easy, when we are young, to assume that we have time. Life is a long journey whose minutes are slow and years are fast. With 30 or 40 years left in our life expectancy, putting off the difficult and important things is preferable to encountering challenges. Actuarial tables concur with our assessment, until the flood waters come.
The early Christians, right after the Resurrection, believed that the second coming of Christ was imminent. The general thinking was that it would happen in their lifetimes. Now, more than 50 generations later, we are still waiting. There have been horrific events in these last millennia, but none of them have culminated in the second coming.
Complacency is a dangerous thing, because it gets us to turn off our brains. In a false sense of security, we engage in moral hazard. We make decisions that we otherwise would not make. If we knew the date and time of our death, we would order our lives very differently.
In his famous satire, The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis articulates many of the strategies that ensnare Christians seeking to achieve the greatness they were made to live. One of them is that evil doesn’t exist but, perhaps more insidious, is the idea that we have more time.
A wave of canonizations is upon us of young people who lived lives of heroic virtue, but didn’t make it to 25. It doesn’t have to take us a lifetime to embrace God’s great plan for our lives; we don’t have to spend decades wandering in the wilderness like Israel. The fullness of God’s revelation is in our pockets on our cell phones, and written on our hearts.
It’s never too late to do the right thing, and tomorrow is not assured. The response to this is not fear or dread, but gratitude. Gratitude for the blessings of today, and earnestness to pursue greatness now.
Gaze
The disciples in yesterday’s Gospel were sent out in pairs to proclaim the good news and returned joyful at what they experienced. With only the holy name of Jesus, they were able to project power over evil. As the Apostles continued the ministry of Jesus after Easter, people would lay the sick out on the path before the Apostles in hopes that their shadow might bring healing.
Of the four types of prayer, adoration is set apart. It doesn’t ask for anything, but instead returns to God the love and honor He is due. It’s a prayer of praise for who God is. In a philosophical sense, it is the metaphysical acknowledgment of God as He is. David captures the spirit of this prayer perfectly:
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Psalm 63:2
Eucharist Adoration is a powerful experience because it’s a personal encounter with Jesus. We sit in the sanctuary, a holy place set apart, and gaze upon our Lord; and He gazes back. It’s a profound moment of created and creator, together. We cannot look at God, and be seen by Him, and not be changed.
Time in prayer is never wasted, and all types of prayer have their proper place. In petition, we bring God our needs. In contrition, we express our heartfelt regret for our errors. In thanksgiving, we show gratitude for many blessings. In adoration, though, we recognize the reality of God and praise His greatness.
Deafness
Like characters in the Bible, there are many stories in the lives of the saints that we can identify with. Saints are not perfect people, but imperfect people who rose above themselves to live heroic virtue. St. Augustine’s culturally acceptable lifestyle before his conversion is perhaps the easiest example. So, too, is Peter’s distancing himself from Jesus on Good Friday.
The hardest part about living the Christian life to the fullest isn’t just walking away from the ease and convenience of normal. The hardest part is confronting the question: what if it’s all real?
What if, at the Mass, that bread and wine is truly flesh and blood? What if, in Eucharist Adoration, I’m looking upon the physical body of God? What if the stories of Marian apparitions are true? What if Mary really did appear to Juan Diego and paint her image on his cloak with flowers? What if St. Padre Pio could be in two places at once, and what if his stigmata is real?
The list is endless, but if it’s all real, what would I have to change about myself? If I encountered Truth and accept it, I could never be the same. Everything would have to change as I conform myself to God’s Will, and lay down my priorities. And, what if, in doing so, I end up more free, more joyful, authentically happy, and satisfied.
St. Augustine describes God as calling and shouting, breaking through his deafness so that he could hear Truth and be transformed. God makes all things new, and wants nothing more than our freedom. We can go to the ends of the earth, and He will still be there. When He does break through, when we do hear His message, may we choose well.
Fiat
God’s perfect plan is predicated on the participation of man. This principle, though it confounds human understanding, is most brilliantly illustrated in Mary’s fiat. Her yes set in motion a ripple that continues to move throughout space and time.
In each of our lives, we are asked for the same yes. God places us precisely where His plan needs us, in the family and surrounded by the people He chose. He wants us to help in His mission and plan, but he can only do so with our consent.
God’s love for us is ardent, and it can be confusing for Him to love us this intensely, but then also to grant us free will. The self-reinforcing nature of God only further validates His existence. If God does love us with a love that is so pure, how could He at the same time impose it upon the beloved against their wishes? How could He, in the name of love, violate the autonomy of the beloved? Instead, respecting His nature, He offers love unconditionally, and then waits patiently.
In every case where someone has given their yes, God has done incredible things. Most of them, we will never know. But some of them, namely in the lives and virtue of the saints, we do know. These are ordinary people, anonymous to culture, who allowed God’s grace to work through them, whose names are now raised to the honor of the altar.
God has great things in store for us, but He needs our fiat to get started.