Philosophy
Acceptance
Most of the Christian life is about acceptance. Acceptance is the humble admission that the great plans of God are far superior to the limited ones we have for our lives.
Humility is a Christian virtue. It’s easy to get ahead of our skis, setting out plans and ideas for ourselves that stray far from the mind of God. Humility calls us back to the essential truths of life. Our life is for loving and serving others.
Since 2006, I’ve lived with chronic migraines. It’s the paradigm through which my life processes. My lifestyle choices, career choices, even plans for each day must pass muster through migraine. Migraines are limiting, but upon reflection, they’ve served more like providential bumpers. My plans fell by the wayside, and God’s plan of adventure for my life took hold.
I’m another point of acceptance. After years of trial and error, I’ve learned that a strict ketogenic diet is my best treatment plan. If I want to be in control, I need to avoid the deliciousness of sweets and carbohydrates. But all is not lost. I’m less hungry, at a healthier weight, and I have energy. I’m able to accomplish my tasks and play with my children. Our schedules suffer less disruption and my sleep schedule is no longer restrictive.
Acceptance is not resignation. I’m not resigned to a particular diet, a victim of my biological circumstances. I’m free to enjoy so many delicious foods. Not only that, but I lose far fewer days to migraine, and so I’m free to live each day with joy and energy,
This is the essential, if not paradoxical lesson, that I’ve internalized. Giving up on my plans opens me up to the grander vision God has for me.
Building Momentum
Just after my birthday this Spring, I started walking again each morning. My most successful streaks start with little planning and no fanfare. My alarm goes off, and I go walk for an hour. I kept up with that habit, day after day, all the way until our summer vacation in July. I took the week off, and I’ve struggled to get back on track.
Momentum is hugely important because it defeats resistance. Quietly humming in the background, momentum propels us to keep doing something because it’s easier to keep going than it is to stop and start over later. I didn’t have the excuse that I could just skip a day because it wouldn’t matter. I walked yesterday, so why not walk today? There were many mornings that I slept in during that Spring walking streak, but at the end of the day, I’d always lace up and head out. I’d walk in those evenings because walking is just something that I did.
I experience the same resistance when I fall out of a prayer routine. Why start small when I can just start tomorrow? Why take 10 minutes at the end of the day when I can really do a good job tomorrow morning? I need to start now because it’s the best time to start.
I don’t give momentum a lot of credit, but that’s because it’s the silent partner of success. By taking the excuses off the table, it’s easier to just do what I had planned than it is to rationalize why I shouldn’t.
The Monk and the Merchant
The pictures coming out of Afghanistan are heartbreaking. We will forever remember the image of the C-17 taxiing down the runway with dozens of people hanging on, desperate to escape the evil that has descended on their homeland. It hurts not just because it was preventable, but because we feel powerless to help. Our elected leadership has failed on the world stage, and we share in the moral fallout.
Disaster and tragedy are part of the human story. Afghanistan feels personal because, while there is little that we can do about dictatorships in China, North Korea, or Cuba, this one was within our power to stave off. Every day in the World News section of the newspaper are stories of natural and human disasters. This is to say nothing of the quiet crimes against humanity that go unnoticed by the global community.
In times like these, I’m reminded of the book, _The Monk & The Merchant_. It’s a short story, in the vein of those management quick-reads. The story is about a merchant who visits a monastery and wishes he could spend all of his time focused on serving God. The monk whom he meets reminds him that the lifestyle of the monk is possible because of the financial generosity of the merchant. So while the merchant may spend his day tending to his business and growing his profits, his work is holy, too. It’s the work that enables the monastery to function.
Most of us are not called to the missionary field. Most of us are not called to travel to Haiti after an earthquake, or to Kabul to save people from the shadow of a dictatorial theocracy. But we are called to help. We can make a positive difference by giving generously to charities that have the experience, capability, and manpower to make a tangible difference on the ground.
If you’re looking for a reputable group, especially one that helps Christians facing persecution and genocide in the Middle East, take a look at the Knights of Columbus Christian Relief Fund.
We may not be monks, but our work as merchants is holy. Our work makes the life and charitable works of the monk possible.
Environment
I caught the back to school bug last week. The malaise of summer broke, and I worked through my checklist of projects. I oiled squeaky doors, replaced door handles, and ordered in some extra decor for our schoolroom. I even started easing us back into the regular daily routine.
Our environment speaks to our subconscious. The decorations on the wall, the art around the house, all contribute to a cohesive message.
We went to a pizzeria for a birthday dinner, and there were five televisions within eyeshot of everyone at the table. We didn’t talk much, we just watched the Olympics. The environment of the restaurant didn’t invite us to relax and talk, it encouraged us to zone out right in front of each other.
I want my children to see books throughout their day, pictures and statues of saints, and beautiful art on our walls. I want an environment that quietly draws us into prayer, meditation, and reading throughout the day.
There’s more work to do, but I think we’re on the right path.
Second New Year
August is here and back to school is right around the corner. We limped over the finish line in June, and it’s hard to believe that we’re about to get started again. There’s a bit more planning and organization to do. This year will bring a new challenge. I have two students in my class, with a third in tow.
As I start to turn my thoughts to school days, I’m reconsidering our schedule. I really got into a summer mindset this year. It was wonderful. Nothing on the schedule, just a daily clean slate. That also meant that I lacked momentum to keep doing the things that I did sketch out.
Back-to-school time is like a second chance new year. We can reorient, restart, and refresh our goals. That’s what I’m doing.
I took a few minutes last week to sketch out a schedule. In the past, I’ve managed to ignore almost all of my planning. Too much structure breaks, too much flexibility means less gets done. This year, I’m breaking my day into two parts: morning and afternoon. I have a list of things to do in the morning and a list for the afternoon. Simple.
My areas of focus are on daily prayer and reading. I built in a brief period of morning prayer and a rosary after lunch, but before naps. I’m looking forward to the rosary because it adds in a calming element to the schedule, along with mindfulness.
No need to be upset about the missed opportunities of summer days. Rest is a wonderful thing.
Spiritual Wokeism
I’m old enough to remember when being woke was enough to get you made fun of on SNL. What started as a fringe idea has now overrun the academy, government, the armed services, public health, and media. The essential contradiction of wokeism is that while it claims to be awake, to be fully embraced, you must deny reality. One of the clearest signs of this is the pervasive belief in the fallacy that America is no better today than it was in 1776.
This is a heavier topic than usual. I like to keep this blog light and digestible, but I think there’s an element of wokeism at play in our spirituality. It’s easy to believe that we are no better today than we were yesterday, or even a decade ago.
When we go to Confession, we repeat the same litany of sins, sometimes adding a few but seldom removing any. This is a grating experience. We get the impression that we’re not improving.
Our expectations of instant renewal and transformation are unrealistic. We must take concrete steps to live and love the Law. Change, however, is slow. We’re working out our salvation and overcoming the innate character flaws that will be with us for life.
Like modern wokeism, spiritual wokeism is a lie. We’re better than we used to be. We may be committing the same sins, but we’re probably committing them less frequently. That’s progress! We may be making the same mistakes, but in different ways. That’s progress!
The Christian life isn’t about a life lived perfectly. It’s embracing our human flaws and, through grace, living out our vocation fully despite them.
We reject the fantasy of wokeism in public life, and we should reject it in our spiritual lives, too.
Lazy Summer Days
With deep regret, my vacation is over. A few days at home with just one kid to watch, followed by a cross-country drive to a week at Lake Michigan. This period of time is the most restful I’ve had in over a year. What a wonderful break!
There are few feelings like vacation. Sitting on the deck with a sea breeze rolling past, typing away on my computer, this is the way summer vacation feels. But we aren’t just supposed to enjoy lazy days in summer.
The days, weeks, and months are ever so busy, but every seventh day’s only purpose is for us to rest. Not to catch up on overdue tasks or get ready for the week ahead, but an entire day marked as sacred. A rhythm to our days laid out for us, but one that we ignore to our detriment.
I find Sunday to be an easy day to waste. I slip away to my desk to work on a website or process paperwork. In the process, I miss the point. Sunday should feel like this day at the lake. A day entirely my own, and to be allocated to the things that leave me feeling restored and rejuvenated.
God created many things. Indeed, that first week was full of much of the busyness that we know so well. But the seventh day, even He set that entire day aside to see what He made and that it is good. I should do the same.
To The Lake
July at home is a hot, muggy affair. Humidity rarely disappears, meaning even my early morning walks, long before the sun breaks the new day, are hot and uncomfortable. The heat and humidity persist for months on end, the price of a delightful and mild winter. But none of that matters now. As I write this post, I’m sitting in a beach house, high on a bluff above Lake Michigan. The windows are open, and the cool lake breeze is blowing past me.
Pulling off the interstate late last evening, we turned onto the country road that leads to this quiet neighborhood. I opened the windows as we drove through the pastures, horse farms, and farms. The fresh smell of clean, the open air perfectly matched to the rolling hills of grain and the growing fields of corn. The scene was pure Americana and the feeling was of great refreshment.
There’s a peace that fills this experience. A cool breeze of relief after weeks of heat. Rolling hills speaking to the beauty of a slower paced life. An atmosphere that encourages rest, recreation, and revitalization. This is an experience that reminds me of the essential goods in life.
I had a productive week last week while my children were away. Projects that languished for months finished in an afternoon. I completed the first draft of a new magazine that I’m working on. I saw an open week on my calendar and rushed to fill it with projects and activity. What I didn’t do was plan for rest. It was good to work and check things off, but it’s also good to rest.
That’s what I’m doing this week. I’m slowing my pace, relaxing, and restoring. My life will fill up again soon after we return home. But for this week, all I have to do is nothing.
Kill the Golden Calf
Everyone hates the polarized culture, but no one wants to give an inch. We blame the other side as the source of all of our problems. Perhaps we should try seeing their point of view as being valid. The friction that keeps us from accomplishing anything meaningful together isn’t the mindless droll, it’s our obsession with our golden calves.
Political arguments always begin with everyone planting their flags. Oftentimes, it seems like the argument gets as far as opening arguments and then completely stalls. We think it makes us people of integrity, that we have our view points and will not move off them, but really, it makes us foolish.
There’s a real difference between being blinded by ideology and having a sincere belief. In fact, I think that we must have issues that we refuse to change positions on, but only on the biggest and most important of issues. Tax policy holds a different moral weight than life issues.
When you strip away the rhetoric and the one-liners, we can actually find a great deal of common ground. We can take opportunities to work together, to give a little, and to agree to a compromise that takes us both closer to where we want to be.
When everything is a golden calf, nothing gets done.
Weakness
“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Cor 12:9
As a part of my study of St. Joseph and his life, I picked up a copy of Pope Francis’ Apostolic Letter Patris Corde (With a Father’s Heart) that was released in December. In the letter, the Holy Father established this year as the Year of St. Joseph. While reading through, I came across this passage from the second letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians.
Jesus’ words to Paul really struck me. Even in our victim culture, weakness is a negative. Claiming victim status is an assertive position, a way to ironically claim power over another. Weakness is something to be avoided, and yet it’s unavoidable. The nature of the human person is weakness.
What does it mean for power to be made perfect in weakness? It reminds me of Socrates. His intellectual prowess is undisputed, but he claimed to know nothing. Thomas Aquinas, after a mystical experience, said his theological writings were like straw. These two men provided the intellectual underpinnings for Western thought through thousands of years, and they did so by embracing their weakness.
The power of the human person, fully alive, is only unleashed when in proper relationship with God. By taking our place in service to God, we can be His instrument in our world. All good gifts come from Him; we are His body, His hands, His feet. We feed the hungry, help the oppressed, console the hurting. We do this all through our weakness because He gives us the grace and the strength to carry out His saving mission.
When we accept and embrace our weakness, we make our hearts and minds one with God. We seek to do His Will, and are more ready to accept the graces that we need to carry out His plan. Pride is a deadly sin, the antidote to which are the virtues of humility and weakness. God did not make us to be strong on our own, but to be channels of His grace for our hurting world.