Verso L’alto
St. Irenaeus wrote in the second century that the glory of God is man fully alive. How can we aspire to that kind of living, when humanity is drowning in an ocean of mediocrity?
It’s a terrible waste of the gift of freedom to spend life on idle and self-centered pursuits. It’s not that comfort or taking it easy is wrong in and of itself; even God rested. It’s that idleness is the enemy of virtue. It destroys our potential, steals our time, and deprives our friends, family, and neighbors of the good things we could do for each other. It hollows out quality relationships, substituting at every turn authentic things for counterfeit ones.
The orthodoxy of self-centeredness is the existentialism of Sartre and the relativism of Nietzsche, a toxic cocktail all but assuring personal misery and restlessness. It’s the effete worldview that nothing matters except oneself and one’s own opinions. These two great philosophical losers condemned themselves to history as prosaic thinkers who, lacking in moral courage, dared not indulge any sense of curiosity as to what God, the author of life, had planned for them.
What Sartre and Nietzsche lacked in imagination, Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati made up for in spades. The calling card of the saint is heroic virtue, not just a generalized “goodness,” but a person activated in the original vision of life: man fully alive.
Pier Giorgio was an avid Italian mountaineer who used the phrase “verso l’alto” as his personal motto. “Toward the heights” is not only the objective of the mountain climber, but the authentic call of the Christian life to always aspire to greater things. In our prayer life, in our virtue, in our love, and in our relationships with others, we never accept things as they are, but pull them higher toward the way they ought to be.
The Christian life is difficult because we must give our fiat, no matter the social and personal cost, to participate in God’s plan for our lives. It’s not just a surrender, but a decision to open ourselves to the great things God can accomplish by our active participation. What darkness will be dispelled when we allow God’s blinding light to shine through us?
Mediocre is easy; verso l’alto.
Let the Fire Fall
It’s easy to see fire as purely destructive. There’s nothing quite as jarring as seeing a photojournalist’s images of a neighborhood after a wildfire sweeps through. The homes reduced to slabs, mighty timbers turned into toothpicks, fully loaded cars left behind as empty husks. But fire’s role in our ecosystem is essential to new life.
Fire consumes all that it touches. It takes the dead and the detritus and sweeps it away, reducing it to elemental nutrients that are essential to the creation of new life. Pests and disease lose their hosts and are wiped out; animal life finds new homes in the burned trees. Nitrogen, phosphorous, and potassium are released into the soil through the ash functioning as a natural fertilizer. Certain timber and brush seeds lay dormant in the ground until a fire sweeps through to activate their growth cycle. Out of the charred landscape, nature heals itself and green shoots appear. The fire did not destroy for destruction’s sake; it cleared the path for something wholly new.
In Scripture, we see the Holy Spirit appear in two forms: dove and flame. The dove flies over Jesus at His baptism in the river Jordan. Sacred art never omits the Spirit’s presence at this moment in Jesus’ life, as He emerges from anonymity and begins His public ministry. The dove, like the messenger to Noah that the flood was over, is white and pure, and symbolizes the physical presence of God.
After Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection, He spent time encouraging the Apostles and making final preparations for the sending forth of the Church. But after He ascended back into Heaven, His once courageous friends reverted to the mean. They were simple men, up against a government, institutional religion, and the scholar class. They, understandably, cowered in the upper room. This was their safe place, and it was easier to be among friends than to be out challenging the world order.
These close personal friends of Jesus spent three years living with Him and experiencing every incredible public and private moment with Him. With just a short period of His physical absence, they couldn’t cope. They were the best evangelists in the history of the Church, hand-picked and trained by God, and yet they doubted their ability to take the gift they were given and distribute it to humanity.
In this locked, hidden place, fire burst through. Like the episode right after Easter, the Apostles cowered and God entered. God with them, and no longer restrained in their belief, they spread out to the corners of the known world and experienced every grace, challenge, and persecution that is evangelization. The fire of the Holy Spirit cleared out the fear and old ways of their prior life. They were sent into the world, standing in truth, and confident in their training.
One of the great benefits of the Bible that it shows us that the difficulty of our flaws and situations are not unique. We have a proud heritage of people of virtue failing miserably, but refusing to give up. Always push forward, never settle. We are never alone and we can always know the end of the story: fire comes in and God wins.
The Holy Spirit is with us, burning in our hearts, pushing us today to share the truth we hold in our hearts with family and stranger alike. This is a mission that seems too important to be entrusted to us, and incredibly it is our charge. If this is what we were made for, if this who we are, if this is the greatness and adventure for which God has brought us to this place and at this time, then let the fire fall.
Common Language
Two months ago, we had a power outage after strong spring storms swept through the area. It was getting near bedtime, but with the daylight growing longer, the children were restless. I pulled out my iPad and opened one of the few apps that isn’t dependent on the internet: Sneaky Sasquatch.
I’ve had access to Apple Arcade for years, and the game itself is nearly five years old, but this was only the second time I opened it. The first time, I quit in frustration. On that powerless March evening, something clicked.
The children gathered around me in my oversized chair as I navigated the open world, accomplishing all sorts of silly tasks. The graphics, lighthearted humor, and casual gameplay drew us all in. They begged to have access to Sneaky Sasquatch once the power returned.
Months later, my son will play on an iPad and stream it to the TV for his sisters to follow along. He’s getting jobs, and even adopted a dog that follows him around everywhere. They love it, and while I’m still a few steps ahead of him, he consults me on strategy and objectives.
The characters and gameplay have become part of our family lexicon. We even devised a token system to reward good behavior and helpful children, and to caution them when they go out of bounds. We have a powerful new tool in our family toolbox: a common language.
Every child responds to correction differently, and theirs mostly appears to mirror my dispositions. They need to be challenged, not confronted. The embarrassment of failure inspires a desire to move past it quickly. Simply marking the error and offering a correction is usually all it takes. Having Sneaky Sasquatch as a tool, I can offer a gentler correction, and ease us back into daily life.
In the game, when Sasquatch breaks the rules, he gets into “Ranger Danger,” and the park rangers capture him and put him back at his house or in jail. When my children cross the line, I can warn them that they’re in Ranger Danger, and with that challenge, they can correct.
Beyond just reward and discipline, I have a new universe to communicate with them. There are many interests that I do not share, and characters that I don’t understand. It wasn’t until I watched the Dogman movie that I understood what they were talking about all the time. Sneaky Sasquatch gives me another look into their world, and a playful way to connect with them.
I’m not a gamer, and most days I don’t have time to play Sneaky Sasquatch. But what I do have is an offline way to connect with my kids, to be playful with them, and to encourage them along.
This Way of Life
Memorial Day finds its roots in the post-Civil War era. A nation healing from a brutal conflict sought some small way to remember those fathers, brothers, friends, and neighbors who perished in a fight for the future of America. After World War I, the observance was expanded to all who gave their lives for their country.
It’s noteworthy how we talk about these young men and women who, as the saying goes, shall not grow old. Their lives were not taken, but given. They gave their lives so that their family could live in peace and that others may live. The soldier’s job is no common vocation, but a choice to inconvenience themselves for the sake of others. It’s an act of courage to step forward and raise their right hands, and many of them gave everything they could to honor their oath.
We also talk about how today is a day of remembrance of those who died to protect the American way of life. This encompassing phrase captures what makes America exceptional. It’s a way of life that operates with free markets and free people. It’s the growth engine that can pull people out of poverty, mint rags-to-riches stories, and lift all boats. It’s our ability to sleep soundly in our beds and attend Mass without concern for our safety.
Our warrior class has stood for 250 years, guarding over our nation, freeing us from the threats, and enabling our peace and prosperity. On this day, we pause to thank them and their families, for the ultimate sacrifice that makes the world a better place.
Ready, Set
Many times throughout the year, whether it be in January or our birthday, we get an internal urge to change. We recognize in ourselves ways in which we could improve, and acknowledge that we’re not who we want to be. In those moments, we resolve to change.
The next thought is usually expansive planning about how to reach our destination. We need the perfect plan, the perfect setup, the perfect time. False starts abound as we tee up our “Ready, set…” moments. Whiffing leaves us demoralized, or just the distractions of life carry us off on to some bigger, better thing.
Like Charlie Brown kicking a football, I’ve fallen for this, too. It’s why I’m always so shocked that a lack of planning is the best indicator of my success at change.
I’ve considered myself a walker for 12 years, but in the last two, there’s only been one four-week period in which I’ve walked every single day. It’s not for a lack of trying, and I did have a foot injury that kept me off the street for many mornings. But my foot wasn’t what kept me from walking; my choices did.
Yesterday was 21 days in a row that I’ve walked. I didn’t set out to make April 27th my start day, it was a Sunday. Successful exercise plans, as we all know, begin correctly on Monday morning at 5:00am. They never start on a Sunday afternoon. But here I am.
Momentum is built up, and even on those marginal days when there’s legitimately some other task that’s deserving of my time, I choose to walk. When I give up on lining up the Ready, Set moments, and instead put in the work without questions, excuses, or plans, I win.
Domestic Things
The Mass readings in the Easter season feature vignettes of the Risen Christ reintroducing Himself to His followers, and His followers grappling with what they are experiencing. The stories and scenes are familiar to us, but they are also eminently relatable. These are among the easiest stories to place ourselves in.
There is a thread that sticks out to me. We live in a culture of busyness that praises those who do-it-all. An intact executive function and one hundred sixty-eight hours are, in reality, not enough to do it all. Our work, family, and domestic responsibilities exceed our ability.
In the last decade, work-life balance was the watchword. This mythical reality stalked corporate America as workers sought the elusive goal of keeping their personal and professional responsibilities perfectly balanced. They were to be exactly 50/50, without any instances of one taking priority and harming the other.
Confronted with this hard truth, that we can’t do it all and there will never be stasis in our lives, we tilt towards feelings of overwhelm or out of control. In those moments, we’re more likely to prioritize our professional obligations over our personal ones. The domestic, after all, is pedestrian. I can do laundry any time, but if I do well on this project, I might get a promotion.
In comes Jesus, the second person of the Blessed Trinity, rising from the dead. Resurrected, before He even leaves the tomb, He makes His bed.
When Simon Peter arrived after him, he went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths there, and the cloth that had covered his head, not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place. - John 20:6-7
A few days later, when the Apostles are out fishing one morning, Jesus appears on the shoreline. Hearing of their lack of production, He sends them back out and they score a great catch. They race back to be with their risen friend,
When they climbed out on shore, they saw a charcoal fire with fish on it and bread. -John 21:9
But it wasn’t just that Jesus had prepared a fire, He went further,
Jesus came over and took the bread and gave it to them, and in like manner the fish. -John 21:13
Making beds, preparing breakfast, do these unassuming tasks sound familiar? They are ones that we undertake every day; small, ordinary things that evidence the rote nature of our routines. It’s these boring domestic things that we discount and society considers nothing. But it is in these small act that we find God, and our calling. We find our very purpose, to do small things with great love as Mother Teresa reminds us.
He did these things to show us that the simple, essential, repeating tasks that we must do each day are not to be despised. Rather, they are the very path to our perfection in Him.
System of Logic
The world is awash in bad ideas, and far too many people are willing to accept them at face value. In the parts of the world where the Church accommodates by moving away from its teachings, the Church is suffocating in an ocean of relativity. In the parts of the world where the Church stands firm on truth as an act of charity, it thrives as a lighthouse.
Many question how the Church’s teachings and doctrine are relevant in the world today. The curious get into the voluminous published materials that not only explain the what, but the why. A great place to start is the Catechism, which provides bite sized summaries with plenty of cross-references and footnotes to flesh it out.
Church teaching is not arbitrary, but a system of logic that stitches together what it means to be human and how to live a good and fulfilling life.
This is a confusing time, where our phones provide us with access to bad ideas that would never flourish in a world of more filtered and limited communications. It is incumbent on us to challenge and scrutinize these ideas. When we challenge them, what do they yield?
Unpacking the truth on which the Church stands reveals a self-reinforcing understanding of the human person and man’s place in the world. It is an understanding that yields unrivaled deference to the dignity of the human person and stands opposed to any idea, action, or law that seeks to degrade that dignity.
It’s a truly radical philosophy, but one that opens up a world of fulfillment, joy, and peace for those who have the courage to raise their questions and see what the Church says in response.
In the Quiet Hours
I love the romance of the early morning. Now that the children are growing, and oftentimes I still hear them as I wind down for the day. The stillness of the house is deeply peaceful for me, and I find it most consistently in the morning before they start to stir. It’s in that quiet space that I can fully relax, and think deeply.
Spring is changing my neighborhood, and I’m struck in the morning how quickly the stars fade, and the morning light starts to break. I typically listen to podcasts, but even with my headphones in, the chorus of birds chirping in the canopy as the sun starts to rise breaks through the noise.
Coming out of that aura of birdsong into the quiet house, and feeling my muscles relax after an hour of work, is the perfect way to start my day. I begin with a sense of accomplishment and peace, two things that I need to make it through the challenges of daily life.
There are many days when I use those two hours for more sleep. Every so often, that’s the correct choice; rest is a key ingredient for health. But most days, the right choice is to get up early, get outside, and orient my day towards the things that really matter.
Mercy
The Church is many things, but one of its best attributes is that it is a place for thinkers. Theology, the study of God, is one of the most complex subjects in the expanse of human understanding. Its object is not the secrets of the animal kingdom, the building blocks of the universe, or the next big thing. It is the quiet contemplation of truth, itself.
We all benefit from these great thinkers who have spooled out nearly every aspect of Scripture, Traditional, and doctrine. To be sure, there are still areas that are beyond the limits of the human intellect, but for those depths that have been plumbed are great treasures.
Divine Mercy is one of these areas. A newer area of theological inquiry, Jesus’ apparitions to St. Faustina in the early 20th century reflect God’s intense desire to reveal more deeply this aspect of His nature. The timing could not have been more perfect. In the time between two world wars in less than a generation, and the atrocities that were committed, what better time in salvation history was there to remind humanity of the depths of God’s mercy?
In those apparitions, Jesus used specific language to try to communicate how far this mercy reaches. He described unfathomable depths, and mercy that flows out in torrents. Those are not words that we use frequently; they’re almost like trying to think about how deep the ocean is, or the expanse of space.
We rely on God’s mercy to overcome our frailties in hope of obtaining all that He has promised. It is a gift of love and friendship offered by a loving Father to His children, and is for all who have the courage and hope to accept.
Jesus is King
Who is this Jesus, the one to whom the crowd flocks, then condemns? Who is this Jesus, who claims to be the Son of God, who challenges every convention and system? Who is this Jesus, whose breath brings healing, whose words alter the trajectory of lives, whose spit opens the eyes of the blind? Who is this Jesus, who posses a power so perfect that even brushing the tassel of His cloak is enough to end hemorrhaging? Who is this Jesus, whose flesh is essential to our survival, whose blood washes away every sin, whose hands wipe away every tear? Who is this Jesus, who chooses to enter into the imperfect through the Eucharist, leaving them perfected? Who is this Jesus, God indivisible, integral, and whole? Who is this Jesus, the living sacrifice, who lays out His plan and patiently waits for our fiat?
Jesus is King.