These Days
Over the weekend, I finished reading a book. The last time I accomplished that feat was in August. I’ve started a walking streak, another habit that I’ve let slide in the past 90 days. My sleep schedule is out of whack, and I’ve lived day-to-day. I could just blame it on everything that was 2020, but in my experience, this is something cyclical. I fall into and out of routine.
The reason I still aspire to build and maintain a strong routine is because of what it offers. It’s a framework that provides time in my day to do everything that I want. I have time to exercise, time to study, time to work, and time to play. It requires that I diligently adhere to a schedule before my kids wake up and after they go to bed, which is a major stumbling block.
My four beautiful children are still small and innocent. They sit at the kitchen bar to watch me make breakfast, they crawl on my lap while I work on my computer. They constantly ping me throughout the day to share every single thing that they see, hear, and do. The cacophony of three little voices, plus the happy noises of an infant, fill my days.
My temptation is to just make it through the day from breakfast until their heads hit their pillows. If I can do that, then I can eke out a few minutes to work on my priorities and projects. That’s the wrong approach. In these days, weeks, and years when their sweet innocence draws them close to me, I need to reach out and embrace them.
This is the time that we build the relationship that we’ll share for my lifetime. These are the days when they store the memories of “my dad” growing up. This is my chance to make a real impact on their formation, to set them up on a course to go through life confident in their identity as human persons.
There’s real work to be done. These are not the days to take for granted.
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.
Taste
Our senses guide us as we move through the world and animate our path as we go. We see colors, objects, and people. The background noise of our home and neighborhood plays on as if a soundtrack to our lives. We experience the tactile nature of things around us, and even smell the delicious aroma of our kitchens. We’re driven by our senses, and can sometimes be led into sin by them.
All sin is not sensual, but it’s these kinds of sins that are easiest to understand. The allure of the temptation draws us into a false reality, and we act on it. In those final moments before we commit, we become lost and confused.
If only in those moments before we err, we could so vividly remember what it’s like to taste and see the goodness of the Lord. It’s a phrase we’ve heard many times, perhaps so many that it’s become trite. But if we pull back the words and contemplate the meaning, it’s plain to see that there’s something very relatable.
We know what it means to taste something really delicious. We’ve all shared the experience of eating a freshly baked Christmas cookie or that first bite of steak hot off the grill. But what does it mean to taste and see the goodness of the Lord?
In the first place, we experience it physically. When we receive the Eucharist, we literally taste God. Although the flavor profile is flat, the essence of that meal is anything but. We’re not only touching our Creator, we’re receiving Him physically within us, to dwell in a material and physical way.
In a more figurative way, to taste is to experience. A taste would be a small part, or even the first part, of an experience. Sitting on a roller coaster, as you ascend to the first drop, hearing the clack-clack-clack of the chain along the way, you get your first experience of that ride. You feel the seat in motion, the ambient temperature, and the wind starting to blow through your hair. You get that first taste of what this ride is going to be like.
So, too, with God. The goodness and glory of God is so full and so complete, that if we were to merely get a taste, we’d be fulfilled all the days of our life. God’s invitation to experience His love, perfections, and goodness doesn’t require our full commitment. It’s not necessary for us to go the full distance, the first mile, or even to take the first step. If we were to make the tiniest forward motion towards God, and taste just a portion of HIs goodness, that taste would satisfy us.
It’s easy for to fall into the trap of “tomorrow,” especially when we’re young. The truth is, we don’t know if tomorrow will come. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Are we brave enough to take that first taste?
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!
Carrying Too Much
As I sit to write this post, I’m at the kitchen counter in our new house. We’re in the midst of a move. I’ve moved more than a dozen times in my life and this is the first one that can be considered a local move. It’s an experience I’m familiar with, but one that I still don’t particularly enjoy.
The weeks leading up to the move were quite stressful. I had my normal duties along with common moving tasks like lining up housing, coordinating schedules, and handling utilities. Of course, I still took care of the kids and managed schoolwork throughout the day. I also layered on additional preparation jobs, like sorting and organizing. I’m glad to be very near the end of this journey.
As I worked among the boxes, both before the move and while unpacking, there were many times that I was struck by the sheer quantity of things that we’ve gathered. We’re a family of six, so packing light isn’t exactly possible, but the accumulation is remarkable. On an ordinary day, we might walk into a store and buy something, only to still have that thing five or ten years later. We pick things up, but so rarely lay them down.
Advent, like Lent, is a season of preparation. It’s a season in which the liturgy points us towards the hope that is the Incarnation, God with us. But it’s also a penitential season. St. John the Baptist is still in the wilderness, crying out to us to make straight the path of the Lord. Advent is another opportunity for us in our year to lay things down.
Original sin is with each of us, and from it we derive our inclination to sin. This is known as concupiscence, a sort of tendency towards sin away from virtue. In our lives, as we go about our days, we pick up vices. We take on these bad habits like holding a grudge or giving into road rage. We pick up vices big and small, never really laying them down.
Advent is the time to lay down our sinful habits, big and small. It’s a call to reorient ourselves towards God, to be reminded of our identity as His children. It’s an excuse to break even the smallest of vices that keeps us from living in the true freedom of God’s law.
A Prepared Heart
Advent is here, that most joyous of seasons. In my neighborhood, everyone put up their Christmas lights on Thanksgiving afternoon, at least those who hadn’t done so by November 1st. There’s plenty to love about December and the festivities that mark the end of our year.
The Church offers us two seasons of preparation each year. While Lent in particular may feel glum, I see the wisdom. Advent and Lent prepare the way for the two biggest celebration of the year. Indeed, they prepare our hearts to celebrate the two seminal events in human history: God made man, and God surrendering Himself for our salvation.
We live in a hurried culture that praises busyness and productivity. December is the month on the calendar that really encourages hyperactivity. In the midst of the parties, end of year sales, and trying to close out big projects at work, the Church invites us to slow down.
Advent, like Lent, is a season of reflection. It’s an earthly purgatory. We wait outside the gates of the Heavenly banquet, purifying and preparing ourselves for the awesome reality that exists on the other side. It’s an opportunity to go deeper into your prayer life, to endeavor again to overcome the biggest sin-habit in your life. It’s a time of preparation for the moment on Christmas morning when you approach the manger to see the Christ-child incarnate.
A prepared heart is attuned to the moment. It listens to the message of the Liturgy of the Word. It follows the breadcrumbs, so carefully laid out, leading it deeper into the joy of Christmas. It takes the time to step back from daily life, to focus on its spiritual health, and to recognize the mystery that we are about to celebrate. Give yourself and Jesus the gift of a prepared heart this Christmas.
Thankful for What
It’s been a year. 2020 ushered in a new decade and along with it so much hope. As we’ve slugged out the past eleven months, it may be hard to find things for which we can be grateful. Our Churches are closed or mostly empty. We’ve been subject to virtual house arrest, fearing a virus and locked down by our governments. In the midst of it all, a national election brought into key positions of power people who have an ideology that’s hostile to our faith.
A grateful heart is a beautiful thing. A grateful heart acknowledges the hardships of our days, but has the vision to see that for which we can give praise. While our parishes may be mostly empty, we have access to the sacraments. We have no fear of being thrown into the lion’s den. Isn’t that great? Our entrepreneurs in the pharmaceutical sector pioneered vaccines for a novel virus with an impressive efficacy. Our time stuck at home has brought families closer together.
Many of us are trying to quickly turn the corner on 2020 and leave it behind. While that’s an understandable sentiment, 2021 may not be much better. Who’s to say whether it will be another year of drudgery or a year more like 2019?
In misery and joy, in dread and happiness, we should always seek to have a grateful heart. No matter how trying this year has been, no matter the sadness we’ve endured, we can be thankful for the many gifts and graces God has given to us.
Praying As A Parent
For nearly three years, I’ve done most of my shopping via pickup. From time to time, though, I need to go into the store to make a return. Doing that with four kids plus the item to be returned is no easy task. One night last week, with the kids in their pajamas and ready for bed, I left the house to run some errands.
I had six stops to make, and within 90 minutes, I was at home on the couch watching television with Alison and Veronica. I moved with precision and efficiency from store to store. Having four kids in the back while we pick up orders from multiple stores is no big deal. When making returns, it’s easier for me to go it alone.
My life is like that for many tasks. I can move quicker without little hands following behind me. I can sort laundry in half the time and only have to fold it once. I can get the dishes put away without a single dropped glass or bumped knee. While it may be easier or faster for me to work alone, I shouldn’t.
It used to be that the kids wouldn’t be ready to come down from their rooms in the morning until 8:00am. These days, they’re ready to go at 6:30am. Those 90 minutes that I used to be spent in prayer or reading the news are now theirs. Why should I give up my prayer time?
My primary prayer is the monthly edition of Maginificat. The work is all planned out for me, all I need to do is find the time to sit down, open the book, and be still. While I love the solitude of morning prayer, praying with children is joyful and satisfying, too.
The wonderful thing about children is that their minds are alert when they’re at play. If they’re moving around, they’re listening and learning. Here’s my new plan: wake up, go for my walk, and get ready for my day. Then, with the littles rolling around on the carpet in the playroom, I’ll brew my coffee, sit down on the couch, and pray out loud. It won’t be as peaceful, but it will be as beautiful.
Parenting, like gardening, isn’t about efficiency. It’s about patience. The daily work of pruning ensures that my little saplings have all the nurturing and attention that they need. Nothing nurtures a child’s heart like being taught how to pray.
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.