Faith
Moment of Conversion
Life is a series of checkpoints, moments along the path that lead us to our final destination. In our Christian life, many of these checkpoints are moments of conversion. The culmination of perseverance and hard work, winter breaks, and you experience that fresh, new spring.
These moments are profound times of spiritual insight. We get a taste of the reality we were designed to exist in. Our understanding of our faith, and the wisdom of loving God’s law, is crystal clear. Temptation bounces off us, and an effervescence permeates all aspects of our day.
Those they may be fleeting, grabbing hold of these turning points is critical. We are large ships, and turning is never easy. Incremental progress is the tried and true way to success. Although we may get down the path and lose sight of these lampposts, they remain touchpoints that we always return to. For in these moments, these short periods of time, we live as who we were made to be.
Foretaste
Although easily forgotten in the midst of this week’s kickoff of the end-of-year holidays, the intent of Halloween, All Saints' Day, and All Souls' Day is to remind us of our mortality. Nearing the end of the liturgical year, the Sunday readings focus on eschatology, or the end times. Throughout the Bible, and in the ministry of Jesus, the fact that our time on Earth is transitional is never hidden. We are all walking on pilgrimage, with judgement assured when our journey meets its logical end.
Though it may seem foreboding, reaching the end of that journey should be cause for joy and hope. Our lives are filled with difficulties, sadness, and sufferings that God never intended. It was only through the entrance of sin into our world, and our complicity with it, that these sorrows have befallen us. Still, although sin and sadness are real, we can choose even today to live as God intended. We can love God’s commandments and experience a wholesome, fulfilling and joyful life as the saints have shown us.
Though true, this is all a bit academic. Time ticks away slowly, and it’s hard to keep the mind focused on an eternity of peace and exuberance. This is especially true when the kids have been fighting all day, you still have to put together a grocery order, the cars need to be waxed, and you have a major project due in two days. God designed every facet of our bodies with great purpose and intent, and He understands the challenge of focusing the mind in the midst of stress and a to-do list pouring off the page.
It’s one of the reasons we go to Mass every week. Not only do we need the rejuvenation and the break, but we need reminders of our future at regular intervals. Why do we not lie, cheat, and steal as others do? Because this peace, this calm, this celebration is what we were created for. It’s the great foretaste of what is to come, if only we run the race and win.
Life is not easy, and in moments of stress, exhaustion, and temptation, failure is the path of least resistance when we lose sight of where we’re aiming. There’s a forever of calm and peace waiting for us if only we choose it.
Scriptural Confession
I went to confession last weekend for the first time in many months. I try to go every other week, but things have been crazy busy. The priest was a visitor, whom I’d never met before. In our conversation, he quoted an obscure Bible verse, Malachi 3:8.
Thanks to my completion of the Bible in a Year last year, I immediately had context. After finishing my penance, I pulled out my Bible, and read the whole chapter.
What’s always incredible about the Bible is how timeless it is. It’s a story, a history, of a nation of people who are just like us. I may have better technology and living standards than they did, but I make the same mistakes.
Despite my failings, God always reminds me of the unfathomable depths of His mercy, greater than any sin I may commit. And if I doubt, I can read the words He spoke to the prophet Malachi thousands of years ago and half a world away, as if He spoke them just for me, “…put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts; see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.”
Five Minutes
Spirituality is a major component of what it means to be human. We have a connection with our Creator that is far more personal and intimate than any other in the created world. The main channel of building and developing this relationship is through our prayer life. As with all things in life, it ebbs and flows, and it becomes far too easy to let ourselves get in the way.
A prayer life is the cumulative efforts that we make to spend time with God. But prayer is far more simple. If you have five minutes to be quiet, to be still, and to raise your mind to God, that’s all you need.
Building anything great happens one step at a time. You don’t need a plan to get from where you are to your ideal prayer life. You just need five minutes, today, to start.
The Genius of Mass
Most Catholics ignore their obligation to go to Sunday Mass. Their reasons are myriad, but it’s a big mistake. Sunday Mass represents the most brilliant and disruptive hour of the entire week.
For 167 hours every week, we have ceaseless demands on our time. We have to menu plan, grocery shop, clean the house, do the laundry, drive the kids around, update the budget, answer email, work, wash the cars, mow the lawn, walk the dog, pick up the house, clean up messes, shop for clothes, open packages, order supplies, and so much more.
For one hour a week, we have to do none of that. We don’t have to worry about the report that’s due, the sink overflowing with dishes, or the cars that we haven’t waxed in nine months. It’s the one protected hour when we can finally rest.
This is a glimpse into the Heavenly reward that awaits the diligent among us; a total absence of busyness. Calm, stillness, peace. This is the genius of Mass, a weekly reminder that we don’t have to toil forever. Something much better awaits us.
Fifty-Four
I recently finished reading Atomic Habits, the pop culture phenom beloved by productivity hackers in every industry. The premise of the book is simple: success or failure is built in the tiny, every day actions that we repeatedly take. If we string together a series of positive actions, we’ll see a bigger net result. The opposite is true for negative habits.
Cultivating a rich prayer life is the struggle of a lifetime for every Catholic. As broad and diverse as the life of the Church is, our common challenge is overcoming the tedium of daily prayer. There are plenty of resources that allow for great variety, but at the end of the day, you have to set aside time for prayer, and then you actually have to do it.
The Rosary is undoubtedly a powerful meditation, with benefits both spiritual and physical. Stopping in the middle of the day for a 15-minute break of silence and peace can recharge your batteries, refocus your mind, and propel you through the rest of the day. It’s a good suggestion, but it’s not required, and the vast majority of us don’t do it.
I just finished a 54-day streak of praying the Rosary every day. It was not easy, I had to plan my prayer time, and I had to stick to it. But I was successful because, as James Clear wrote in the Atomic Habits book, I had the stamina to show up every day and work through the boredom.
So much of the battle for our souls happens in the context of our fidelity to prayer, of our submission to the reality that we cannot make it through life spiritually weak. If we want to build a strong habit of prayer, we have to commit and sustain our good works, especially on days when it’s not easy.
Trust
In the most difficult and stressful times of our lives, it’s easy to lose control of our thoughts. The Paleolithic parts of our brains take over, blocking out the logical thinking that has enabled every positive advancement in our lives.
Although our biology fights against our reason, we have at hand many bits of wisdom, sprinkled throughout the Bible. These lines, written thousands of years ago, feel as if they were written just for us. As we stop the spiral, take a deep breath, and regain control, clarity sets in. Our struggles are an invitation to deeper trust in the providence of God that never fails us.
We all have prayers to which the answer is a resounding, “No.” Disappointed as we may be, in time, the things that we asked for are forgotten. It’s prayers that were answered, and the gifts granted to us that are beyond our limited imaginations that matter. Taking a wider view, we see the waypoints, decisions, and impacts in our lives stringing together in a way more beautiful and perfect than we ever could’ve designed.
Troubles will always be with us, but the deeper we trust in God’s will, and His plan for our lives, the more peace we invite into our lives. We don’t have to rely on ourselves, we don’t have to control every factor of our lives; we only have to go where we are called and serve.
Oh why do I worry? Why do I not trust you? Oh child, why hurry? When you have a Father who provides and never withholds His whole heart! Oh, God alone never changes; oh, God alone suffices; and God alone remains faithful.
Transform
It can be hard, intellectually, to grasp the transformative power of Jesus. We all know the personal failure that often comes when we try to implement immediate radical change in our lives, even change for the better.
There may be no better illustration of Jesus’ transformative nature than St. Peter. When he met Jesus, he was an illiterate fisherman. He stumbled and bumbled through Jesus’ public ministry, culminating in his epic abandonment during the Passion.
Through grace, he wept and repented, and shortly thereafter was giving charismatic public speeches that converted 2,000 people at a time.
Like a skilled gardener, he preened the early church, swatting down heresy and shaping the contours of the community that remain until now.
In the end, Peter accepted not only the torture of crucifixion, but inverted crucifixion.
If God can work all of that good through a random anonymous fisherman, what good can he accomplish through my participation in his Divine Plan?
The Simple Path to Holiness
When I wrote my first book, I didn’t take a month off work and rent a cabin in the woods. That may have been a nice setting, but I wrote in the early morning hours before work and the late evening hours when work was over. The same is true for writing my second book, and my third.
Giving into fantasies, or believing myths, is easy when we have big goals. If only we could just quit this one thing, or wake up an hour earlier, then we could get it all done. If only we had no distractions and total silence and focus, everything would be possible. If only I went on this one retreat, took this one course, or found the perfect prayer, I’d become the person that I want to be.
The truth is, as many of the modern saints have shared, the path to holiness in our daily lives. Making breakfast for the children, helping with math homework, and even doing the laundry is how we become holy.
I’m not making a second piece of toast, I’m ensuring my children have a full breakfast. I’m not trying to remember how to solve equations with fractions, I’m helping my child prepare for their future. I’m not getting mustard stains out of shirts, I’m serving my family.
In these mundane, rote, and mediocre tasks, I’m giving of myself. While I make the breakfast, the children laugh. When I help with homework, their minds unlock. When I’m doing the laundry, they’re free to run and play.
God has trusted us to care for our families and to share his title. Like the cave in Bethlehem, it’s in the simple, the humble, even the dirt, that we find Christ and the simple path to holiness.
Start with Listening
For the first time in many years, our parish is holding a weekly Bible study. Although the children get plenty of opportunities to learn about their faith with their peers, adults are often forgotten. The Catholic faith is deep and wide, and we could all use an opportunity to grow.
The series is on prayerful reading of Scripture. Instead of picking up the Bible and reading it like a good book, we approach portions of Scripture as a starting point of prayer. In the series, the lecturer offered that prayer should begin with listening.
It was a profound insight, and one that I had not considered. To my mind, I have a set amount of time to pray, a full agenda, and I need to get right to the point.
The lecture focused on Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well. Through the framework of this well-known story, he demonstrated that the events of the story and the words that Jesus used communicated this deep truth. It was Jesus who spoke first, and then invited the woman into conversation.
Though the dialogue, they had a shared experience. Jesus was able to communicate deeply with the woman, and she heard the particular message of hope and healing that Jesus had for her.
Prayer takes many forms, but perhaps it would be wise for us to slow down, take a moment, begin with Scripture, and then listen.