Church & Culture
- Erik Hofmeister, DVM
- Ed Condon
All Things New
What a lousy two years we’ve had. Disruption, distortion, and distrust maligned what was supposed to be a grand opening of a new decade. Peace, prosperity, and stability reigned, and we collectively looked forward to more of the same. How quickly that all faded.
We spent the first few months of disruption trying to figure things out, usually on the fly. We expected it to be past us like a summer storm: violent, scary, but over quickly. Now, at the start of 2022, we see the light at the end of the tunnel. The messaging and posturing around us represents that we are nearing the fifth stage of grief, acceptance. It’s like a breath of fresh, spring air.
As we stand on this peak, it’s important to take stock of these past two years. We now have a better understanding of the disruption, and tools with which to deal with it. The new year is a milepost for reflection, but I think that we need to look more deeply at ourselves and our lives. Two years passed, and in many ways, they were wasted. We treaded water and let precious time tick away, time that we’ll never get back.
We learned things about ourselves, perhaps things we preferred not to learn. They are just new opportunities for continuing on the Franciscan path of constant renewal. The biggest lesson of all that we should take away is that this was an absolute MasterClass in the reality that we are not in control.
In the Book of Revelation, Christ mounts His throne and declares that He makes all things new (Revelation 21:5). A powerful statement from the Creator and sustainer of all that exists. Death, decay, disorder, and destruction vanishes at the command of Jesus. He turns death into life, disorder into order, and destruction into the New Jerusalem.
The suffering, pain, isolation, and spiraling that we all experienced, do we really believe that God is more powerful than it all? Do we really believe that He can set things right? It may not be in this place or this time, but we are travelers, journeying to an ordered, perfect reality wholly of His making.
We’ve spent too much of our time, seeking to be in control. We’ve spent too much effort on our pursuits, our days tinkering away at useless things. The hands and feet of Christ never stop moving, they’re always working with focus. You and I are workers building the Kingdom that is, at this very moment, on its way.
Two lousy years are over, and there is light at the end of the tunnel. It’s time to stand up and dust off. It’s time to prepare our hearts and homes for the advent of Christmas, the arrival of the Bridegroom.
Creating Evil
I rarely go to the movies. In fact, I think the last new movie that I saw in theaters was Mission Impossible 6 in the summer of 2018. I intended to go see the new James Bond film in October when it came out, but I missed the narrow window. I watched it this weekend and it was terrible.
The problem with film, and art generally, is that it comes from the culture in which it was created. We live in a world that likes to flirt with evil, as if it’s nothing. The Bond movie touched on several fictional, but evil themes and events. The problem is that evil is very real, and it’s totally destructive.
In the Creation allegory, the writer shares with us an essential truth about good and evil in our world. Before the Fall, the serpent had access to the Garden of Eden, but no power over it. Despite the presence of Satan, evil itself, the Garden was good, and the world was at peace. It was only when Satan gained the complicity of man that evil entered into the World.
We see this truth shared again in the Gospel. Jesus tells the crowd, “Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile.” (Mark 7:15)
God, in His wisdom, granted humankind creative powers. We can create ideas, art, and structures. Our greatest creative capacity comes in our ability to co-create new life. But when we use this creative capacity for darkness, evil enters more deeply into the world.
The World has enough evil. It’s better to use our creative powers to create beauty all around us.
Unglued
I was reading my favorite personal finance blog earlier, when I came across a guest post. To my astonishment, a human being, with a doctoral degree, actually wrote these words:
I’m not suggesting that we shame commenters who had kids or censure them in any way. But I think it needs to be part of the conversation. “You had too many kids,” and, “If you want to make it easier to be financially secure, have fewer kids,” are messages that I really think are lacking on the site. I have several friends who stopped at one child (or didn’t have any) because of finances. One of my good friends said, “We could give two kids an OK life financially, or we could give one kid a great life.”
To this man, a child is no different from a purse. It is simply an accessory. Completely optional. A life is reduced to a number on a spreadsheet to him. He is far from alone.
A human, to this man and those who think like him, is now a commodity, an inconvenience, and completely disposable. What other worldview would argue so vociferously for the fake legal right to kill a child at any point until birth. A nine-month window in which they argue for the legal right to commit a premeditated and calculated killing of an innocent person. What distorted logic endeavors to even justify such an act, let alone codify it in law?
We’ve given up the mystique of the human person, the preciousness of a life, the awe at the circle of life.
If you wonder why society has come unglued, why hated and bigotry are suddenly spotted everywhere, and it’s because of this. When we reject the fundamental sacredness and specialness of life, acting against it becomes easy and unglued.
Juxtaposed to this pitiful and destructive worldview, is the perspective of a new father, a man who welcomed his first child at age 40,
As I surveyed all the petty passions and projects with which I had filled my life over the years, fully accepting that none of it would matter once the baby came, I had to wonder: Is this me? Will I still be me when all this stuff doesn’t matter anymore? Who’s the person that’s going to raise this kid, anyway? I thought I had answered those questions, until the doctor put that squalling little muppet into my arms earlier this month. In that moment, I stood there looking at the child, then at my wife, and then at the child again. As my vision cleared, I realized it wasn’t the baby I was seeing for the first time, it was me. I’d never really known who I was until that moment. Becoming a father didn’t change me; it helped me understand who I’d always been and who I would be from now on.
A child is a precious gift. Like a beautiful rosebush, it’s a gift that requires constant attention and nurture. But as we know, the human ideal is not selfish pursuits, but loving and serving others. Children provide us the greatest gift of all: unconditional love and human fulfillment.
Perfect Heroes
Hero is a common word these days. Healthcare workers are heroes for putting themselves and their families at risk to provide care for the sick. Grocery workers are heroes for taking similar risks and keeping us fed. The list goes on and on.
It’s hard for me to say it, but like so much of our language today, I think we overdid it. It’s not my intention to downplay those actions. Taking those risks are part of the job. Healthcare workers put themselves at risk of infection, injury, and lawsuit to help their patients on every shift. It’s what they do. The risk of getting sick is lower today, but Walmart team members still go to work and do my shopping for me. I’m grateful for their actions. I think what we saw was not strictly heroism, but altruism. In the face of adversity, the human spirit triumphed.
In the revisionist trope of our times, we set a very high bar for our heroes. We don’t just want them to be heroic, we demand that they be perfect. When we discover that these heroes are human, with their flaws and imperfections, we let our judgmental selves reduce and demean them.
Take today, Columbus Day. Christopher Columbus made an incredible choice. When he set sail, there were probably a good number of people on those docks, never expecting to hear from him again. He sailed anyway. Columbus Day is an opportunity to reflect on the bold spirit of adventure that lives so deep within us.
He was not perfect. In his zeal to explore and spread his faith, he hurt people. He made many mistakes in his life, but his explorations were also pivotal to human progress. He set in motion the process that ultimately yielded the greatest force for good in the history of mankind, the United States of America. Yet, some cannot bring themselves to forgive a man for acting in a way consistent with the larger society 500 years ago. Thus, he must be maligned, defamed, torn down, and erased from history.
The only perfect saint is Mary. Every other saint fought and contended with their imperfections and, in the end, won. St. Peter denied knowing Jesus, St. Paul tried to snuff out the early Church, and St. Augustine was a bit loose. These men are heroes for their contribution to human knowledge, but they were also flawed people. They were just like you and me.
Heroes inspire us to live our lives more fully, but expecting them to be perfect is a fool’s errand. Instead, we should accept them for the good that they have done and forgive them for the mistakes that they have made. We should hope that others treat us with the same kindness.
Mercy
Divine Mercy Sunday was yesterday. This annual jubilee is a reset available for anyone who wants it. More importantly, it’s a reminder of the depths of God’s mercy.
The onslaught of negative news and culture wars is a bit too much to handle. Every day brings new outrages, new fake controversies, and another simple area of every day life that is now a political and cultural battleground. For me, it’s almost hard to look at my computer or iPad. Activities that used to bring me joy, like reading the news and following interesting stories, now fill me with a sense of dread. The same goes for looking for something interesting or entertaining to watch on YouTube or even Netflix. Every video is trying to manipulate me and precious few are even trying to entertain.
Against that backdrop comes Mercy Sunday. The depths of God’s mercy are not just unknowable, they’re “unfathomable.” His mercy is so deep, so wide that I cannot even imagine it. God offers this experience of mercy to each of us. The juxtaposition of God’s constancy and mercy against the fickle rampage of our society brings into sharp relief the wisdom of choosing to love God and His law.
Anxiety is the body warning us. In a way, I think that the anxiety of current events and culture is an alarm that we’re forgetting to place our trust God’s love and mercy. In contrast to the anxiety that surfing the internet brings is the deep sense of peace that comes from quiet time spent in prayer and meditation. We’re called to live in this place and this time, but God still recognizes the stress that the tumult places on us. In His mercy, He offers us the refuge of prayer and friendship. Unfathomable, indeed.
He is Not Here
What a Lent! After a year of pandemic and lockdowns, this Spring is starting to feel quite refreshing. Vaccine rollouts continue, along with positive studies on their effectiveness. Business is picking up, people are coming out of their homes, and life seems beautiful again.
I read a reflection that pointed out that Jesus’ passion was not his only suffering. He suffered a life of little comfort, completely unlike ours today. He was so eager to get up on the cross and reconcile us to the Father, that He chose to be born in a very difficult time, in an occupied nation, as a member of an oppressed tribe.
All of that difficulty is behind us. The tomb is empty, and we now share in His heavenly glory. It’s appropriate that all of this positive news and opening up should crescendo now, at Easter. Indeed, the spirit that many of us feel is perfectly suited to this season: true hope.
Faithfulness to God’s plan for our lives requires a daily dedication and an internal commitment to live as we should. While it may not lead to a life of comfort, it will lead to a life of joy, an eternal spring of the soul even in the midst of trials. He is not here, giving us a reason to commit to living this holy life.
Uncertainty
Something remarkable happens when you engage in a daily habit of prayer. I’ve written before about attunement, being more aware of God’s presence in your life. When you take the time to make prayer a priority in your life, you experience these moments when you feel as if God is speaking directly to you and to your circumstance. I had that experience at Mass yesterday.
The uncertainty in our politics right now is difficult to endure. For a few hours earlier in the week, it appeared that we may have finally gotten a break in the polarization that has turned us against our neighbors and left us vulnerable to our geopolitical enemies. In that short window of time, it seemed that we were ready to collectively bury the hatchet and come together to constructively solve the problem confronting our Nation. It was like the post-9/11 era in which we were One America.
Yet, human nature soon took control, and the political leaders squandered the moment. They should have employed the leadership of statesmen, but instead chose to wield the bludgeon of politics. The chaos continues.
The readings at yesterday’s Mass were set decades ago. Despite this, our God, who exists outside of time, delivered His prescient message to us,
The Lord will bless his people with peace.
Jesus was born into a nation in captivity. There were those among the tribes of Israel who sought to violently overthrow the Roman occupation. There were others who believed that the Messiah was coming to liberate Israel and establish a new Davidic Kingdom. They thought that Jesus was coming to deliver a political solution. They were thinking small.
Jesus was born in a cave, fled to Egypt to avoid the wrath of Herod, and ended up condemned and executed by the State. Jesus is not a political savior. Jesus is the savior of humankind.
There is and will be political strife, civil unrest, and the imposition of laws and ordinances that stand opposed to the Natural Law. Despite these political and earthly concerns, we must not let anything rob us of the joy of Heaven, and the hope that we place in our God. He will deliver on all that He has promised.
Time Lost
The last week of the year is traditionally a pensive time for me. In an ordinary year, I would wrap up major projects, revamp my productivity systems, review my annual goals, and map out the next year. This year is different.
I must admit, I’m crashing into the new year not solely because of the events of this year, but because of my recent move. Distraction and busyness filled my life for weeks preparing for the move and finally settling in to a new home and a new routine. I’m only now getting my office unpacked and settled.
There is no dispute that 2020 cries out for a do-over. We lost so much time, so many experiences, and so many opportunities to enjoy the fruits of life. As we turn the page on our calendars and look to the new year, it’s prudent to consider how we spent our days in the context of the wider circumstances in our society.
We live in a materialist culture. Hearing that phrase recalls images of consumerism and consumption, but those are just symptoms. Materialism is a spiritual sickness. Materialism is obsessed with the physical realm, with physical objects and the body. It not only demands more stuff, it holds that the worst possible outcome for the human person is physical death. Materialism is widely embraced in our society.
As Catholics, we see the fallacy of materialism. We are physical beings, but we’re also more than that. We possess souls, which share a unique unity with the body. From this perspective, there are plenty of things worse than physical death. We lived many of them this year.
This year, we endured the tyranny of uncertainty. We lived through the misery of human separation, unable to spend quality time physically present with those that we love. Not only that, but we tasted the bitterness of spiritual isolation from our parishes and, above all else, our Eucharistic Lord.
Despite all of this, as the poet Alexander Pope once wrote, “Hope springs eternal in the human breast.”
2021 arrives, carrying with it the lessons learned in 2020. Fresh on our minds is the truth that life is lived in real time. Every single day is a gift, a blessing, and an opportunity. It’s a gift from a loving God, who entrusts it to us for our use and our care. How can we best spend it? It’s a blessing from a loving God who offers us a fresh chance to live according to His Law and the precepts of His love. Will we choose to live in true freedom? It’s an opportunity to share this gift and blessing with those whom we love and meet. How will we share this love?
We made mistakes in 2020, wasting our days doom-scrolling in hiding and fear. We failed to place our trust in a providential God who cares for His children no matter the circumstance. Choose to not repeat those mistakes. Life is granted to be lived, even if we’re simply spending the day at home. Choose to live every single day as the gift, blessing, and opportunity that it presents.
Waiting
The Fourth Week of Advent is here, and our time of preparation is coming to a close. We’ve spent nearly a month awaiting the arrival of the King, and our waiting is nearly done.
It’s hard to wait, to live in a time of uncertainty. We want clarity and stability in our lives. We want to make plans and to see where we’re going. Time may be a human construct, but it’s God’s prerogative. He acts when it’s prudent, not according to our schedule or convenience.
Many of our friends and neighbors will taste the Christmas joy on Friday, only to see it fade on Saturday. By next week Wednesday, the light that glowed in their hearts will be a mere flicker. Decorations will come down, brightly lit homes will go dark once again. They may have waited for a singular day on a calendar, but we were waiting for the King!
We’ve spent time waiting, and now that our joy will soon be complete, we get to relish it. The Church only begins to celebrate Christmas on Friday, followed by eight days of straight celebration. Christmas continues for 40 days through February 2 and the feast of the Presentation of the Lord.
We have spent time in waiting, and now we celebrate. When you look into the manger on Christmas morning, when you gather at the altar to celebrate Christmas Mass, you’ll know that Christ is truly born, He is among us!
What Did We Learn?
America’s political class went into Election Day with a very specific idea of how things were going to go. As the returns came in that evening, a clear picture emerged. Americans are much more moderate and level-headed than our social media feeds and the legacy media would have us believe.
America is a vibrant, moderate nation. Democracy is constantly challenged; it’s the nature of the process. New ideas emerge, and those ideas must compete for support. An unexpected result isn’t the sign of a broken system, but a reminder that the system works. We chose divided government, a government that will necessarily filter out the extremes.
It’s sad to see how much a national election cycle weighs on many Americans. The government wields significant power, but that power is frequently checked. A single candidate can’t fix your life or ruin it. The biggest personal impact you have on our nation is the way that you live your life and raise your children.
Cynical as it is, the legacy media and technology companies need your attention and your money to maintain their position of power and influence. If you don’t watch their programs, click their articles, or follow their feeds, advertisers won’t pay them to keep doing their work. They are masters at manipulating human emotion, especially fear, to keep you turned in to their specific message. Their masks are off. The media are not impartial arbiters of truth; they’re very well funded political operatives.
I’m sure you’ve heard all of this before, probably even recently. It’s not a conspiracy theory, it’s a felicitous reminder. Don’t place your hope in the next political movement or media figure. Place your hope in the God who can and will save you, who will fix your life, who will pull you out of the doldrums and who will give your life purpose.