Sacred Silence
Without doubt, there’s real renewal happening in the Catholic Church. The new guard is stepping into the breach, reminding us of the sacred and special nature of our faith. At a time when the public places so little importance in religion, we’re getting back to basics and rediscovering our core identity.
It’s not easy, and not without its downsides. In many parishes, and at many Masses, the weekly liturgy is indeed a time for the community to gather. It’s also, regrettably, a bit of a gabfest. Think of the low roar of conversations as people catch up on the news of the week in the minutes before Mass begins. After a week at work, in the noises world humanity has ever encountered, we enter into a sacred space and bring all that chaos with us.
A non-confrontational, and somewhat polite, way to counter this tendency is to institute communal prayer before and after Mass. This is a tradition of the Church, and one that fits naturally with the liturgy. As the community gathers, they’re immediately swept up into prayer. At the same time, the end result is the same as before, albeit less inappropriate.
There’s little refuge in the world, too few spaces for sacred silence. In the Bible, time and again, God uses the quiet to reveal Himself and His heart. Drown out by noise, He chooses to not pierce through.
Our Churches, and our sanctuaries specifically, are built to be a refuge from the world. They are the physical residence of God among us, the holy of holies. There is true power in communal prayer; that is what the Mass is. But we must not rob ourselves of the true peace found in sacred silence. It’s where God waits, patiently, to share His whole self with us.
Summer Break
Summer, like all seasons, is racing past. When it seems like just yesterday school’s shut their doors, we’re now past the 4th of July and the new school year is coming in view. Three of my children are away and this week it’s just me and my youngest.
Veronica stepped into her new life as an only child with gusto and joy. Finally, she’s free to soak up the full attention of both parents, and to loiter endlessly at my desk throughout the day as I attempt to work.
I knew this was coming, but I didn’t anticipate how much her interactions with her siblings stimulate her throughout the day. Now, during work hours, she has only me to interact with. There’s plenty of self-directed play as she finds a single item and retreats to some corner of the house to play using her imagination.
I’ve reworked my schedule, allowing for less work during non-nap hours. It’s another great, periodic reminder of what it means to be a parent. There’s the providing and the protecting, but there is also the play. Children are a great gift, eager to experience life and far from jaded. It’s a vision of the world that God intended, and the one that is to come.
What’s Next
Mindfulness gained a foothold in the imaginations of workers and corporations in the last few years, as popular apps brought reliable and lighthearted training to the masses on their phones. Mindfulness asks us to pause and focus only on our existence in a certain moment. It calms the mind and allows us to observe the world as it passes.
So much of our cultural ethos is ladder climbing. Whether socially, financially, or on the job, we’re focused on getting to the next rung. When we finally arrive, there’s another rung for us to reach. On and on we go, lurching from goal to goal as the goalposts keep shifting.
We spend an inordinate amount of time asking, “What’s next?” I have this car, but which one should I get now? I got this promotion, now what job should I do next? I hit this financial goal, now what am I going to work on next? All this time thinking about the future causes us to miss the present.
Having goals is a good and necessary thing; so is being mindful in the present moment. The growth of our children is the perfect reminder that, while every stage of life has its challenges and frustrations, each stage also has its little joys. These joys can only be found when we ask, “What’s now?”
Liberty
Celebrating America’s independence is on the calendar this week, which means for most it’ll be a slow week at the office. Summer is nearly halfway over, and as we reflect on the courage it took for the United States to stand up to the British Empire, it’s a good time to reflect philosophically on what we truly have gained.
Freedom and liberty are used somewhat interchangeably, but are generally understood as the ability to do what you want, when you want, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Many have laid down their lives to protect and defend our American way of life, and we owe it to them and their sacrifice to strive for a higher ideal.
One of the many benefits of practicing religion is that it calls you to be your fullest, best self. You understand the context of your life, your place in the universe, and how you are uniquely created to be here in this time and place. Many aspire to touch the lives of millions through broadcast media, sports, or politics. True impact, however, is almost guaranteed when you pour yourself into those around you.
When you live as you ought, when you are truly free and have the liberty to pray, serve, and love those around you, you build not just a life of fulfillment, but a life of impact. It’s why we’re more likely to remember the model of a friend, relative, or teacher rather than some far off celebrity.
Too much time is wasted scrolling, being anxious about a polarized society, or fretting about far off problems. The solution is not a moonshot to bring the whole world together with this one weird trick. The solution is to be the best version of yourself, to espouse a higher form of freedom, and to use your liberty for of others.
Pausing to Advance
I have a recurring to-do that pops up every Thursday that reminds me to complete a weekly review. This is a fairly standard practice, popularized by David Allen, that gives you an opportunity to take a 40,000-foot view of your work on a regular interval. You go through all of your inboxes and task lists, make sure that they’re updated to reflect your current priorities, and prepare yourself for the upcoming week.
My compliance with this recurring to do is poor. Most weeks I delete it from my list, without having done the work, sometime the following week. The reason is as simple as it is predictable. Something came up. The irony is that by not taking the time to get organized, by not pausing to ensure that my systems are maintained, I end up in a greater state of chaos.
Military historians use tongue-in-cheek phrases like “strategic retreat” or “advance to the rear” to describe retreats conducted by military units. There are many reasons to retreat, but the best is when you actually believe that by falling back, you can regroup, regain the initiative, and advance on the enemy. That’s precisely what the weekly review is meant to give me.
It’s easy to believe things objectively in the abstract. I know that eating healthy will give me more energy; I know that speeding shaves seconds off any journey; I know that saving money is its own reward. The problem is what Mike Tyson so eloquently articulated, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”
It’s precisely in those busiest weeks, when so many projects are pressing for more time, that I should pause, reflect, regroup, and then advance to victory.
Play-Based Childhood
My first phone was the Motorola Razor. I vaguely remember getting it as I was entering my sophomore year of high school, but it could’ve been my freshman year. With its T9 keyboard, and limited minutes and messages each month, I don’t believe I used to all that much. I called my parents and friends, but I was nowhere near tethered to it. The original iPhone was released the summer of my freshman year of college. I was an adult, with a mostly formed brain, and received that phone as a gift shortly after launch.
The iPhone marked a fundamental reorganization of the childhood experience. My Razr had little function outside texting, which was arduous, and phone calls. The iPhone, and really the App Store that rolled out the following year, changed everything and no one thought twice.
There’s no argument that kids and teens face a harsh world today. There’s plenty of reason to be anxious and unsettled, but it’s always been that way. Nostalgia clouds the mind as we try to go backwards in time, but the reality is that every generation of young people has faced its share of existential challenges.
As the research continues to pour in, we’re learning more about the troubling drop in happiness among youth and its decline into despair. The last 18 years, an entire generation of children, have been involuntarily enrolled in a social experiment. The results of that experiment will be a burden they carry forward for the rest of their lives.
Childhood, adolescence, and puberty are critical in the development of rational, productive adults. These are the times when we safely learn the rules of living in community, we curiously explore what it means to be a person, and we come to understand our place in the world. For the last 18 years, our children have instead spent less time playing and learning, and more time sedately staring at a rectangle.
Now, as teens and young adults, they continue to stare at the rectangles. Predators and charlatans no longer have to go to the mall to hawk their ideas and wares; they’re right in our children’s laps. Through a steady diet of anger and fear, then conscript these kids into their virtual army, child soldiers fighting for the agenda of a person they’ve never met, ruining their lives and worldview while enriching their new generals.
Parenting is a whole-of-self endeavor and entirely exhausting. Between work, taking care of the house, and raising children, it’s no wonder many houses are a mess, we eat out more than we should, and parents’ physical health is largely neglected. But, like the best things in life, doing the hard thing counterintuitively brings satisfaction.
Giving our children their devices as on-demand babysitters is the easiest thing to do. Fighting for them, protecting their innocence, and giving them the gift of a play-based childhood, although objectively harder, is objectively the right thing to do. It’s the childhood they deserve, and the childhood that will prepare them to be happy and satisfied adults.
Priorities
Much thought is given to priorities, especially around the beginning of a new year. Whether we set them intentionally or not, priorities are guiding our actions. Even if you set out with a solid plan, it’s easy to become overcome by events.
There are seasons for everything in life; work, family, relationships, school, and play have rhythms that seldom sync up. It’s why we can have fabulously productive days at work and end the day with the house a complete mess. On that day, we prioritized work over cleaning.
The problem with priorities is when we let them take us away from our principles. A father who spends all his days focused on work will lose his family. An employee who spends their days at home cleaning will lose their job. We have to fight for balance in our lives.
Our bodies are magnificent creations; they tell us when we’re out of balance. We’ve all felt that terrible, inescapable feeling of being overwhelmed. We’ve experienced the physical manifestations alarming us to the toll that stress is taking on us.
Though the demands on our time are many and very real, the truth is if we spend some time each day tending to our areas of responsibility, we can get it all done. The house will never be clean, relationships always need nurturing, and work will never be done. But if we keep the kitchen counter clear, take time for each child, and be focused while at work, we can end the day satisfied with how we spent it.
Heavenly Delights
On Saturday, my daughter, Felicity, received her First Holy Communion. It was a day that she’d looked forward to for months, and why wouldn’t she? Children are receptive to ideas that are hard for adults. It’s what makes them vulnerable, but sometimes vulnerability is a gift.
In the Gospel, we hear about how many people “went away” from Jesus as He gave His catechesis of the Eucharist because the truths were “too hard.” For a devout Jew, who observes restrictions about eating the flesh of certain animals, this is understandable. Jesus instructs His followers to not only eat flesh, but human flesh. Blood was understood as the source of life, so to drink someone else’s blood was an outrageous instruction.
I can’t fault these holy people who sought to more deeply obey God’s instructions. They, unlike us, didn’t have the benefit of thousands of years of theology. Like a child, they had to accept Jesus’ instructions at face value.
In the revised translation of the Mass, one of my favorite concluding prayers starts with, “Having consumed these heavenly delights…” It evokes the Jewish people in the desert, looking out of their tents to see manna waiting to feed them; bread from Heaven come to save us, having all sweetness within it. Felicity can now fully participate in the Mass. As she does, may she find fulfillment in these Heavenly Delights.
A Blast of Trumpets
The design of our parish draws heavy inspiration from the great Italian basilicas. A large dome binds together the transepts, and the oversized sanctuary, adorned in stone, creates a huge, open space with the altar perfectly centered. It’s the kind of design that elevates the mind; beauty that shocks the faithful out of the routine of our daily lives and reminds us of the specialness of this place.
To accompany the breathtaking architecture, we also have a robust liturgical music department. At many Masses throughout the year, guest instrumentalists join the organ and choir to truly elevate the music. A few weeks ago, a trumpet and trombone played at Mass on Mother’s Day. The musicians are seated right up front, off to the right, but where the expansive sanctuary meets the dome. The result, in addition to the acoustically friendly building materials, is a church-filling sound that resounds throughout the entire space.
It’s been many years since I attended a parish where Mass was a standing-room only occasion, where young families like mine filled the pews, and where songs were sung by more than just the cantor. Add to the mix the sound of brass and stringed instruments, and it’s hard to not get taken up in the transcendent experience.
I’m grateful to Fr. Mike Schmitz and Ascension Press for their Bible in a Year podcast. It was just a few years ago that I completed the journey, and I find myself frequently reaching back to what I heard and learned that year. Having that grasp, that context, of the Bible is enriching to my daily life. Hearing the brass horns blaring at the Mass is one of those times.
We go to Mass weekly, sometimes more often, and that can have the effect of lulling us into complacency. Our encounters with the Divine are expected, scheduled, and presumed. But when you are at Mass, and the entrance procession is welcomed with a trumpet blast, your mind is immediately pulled to Psalm 47 or St. John’s descriptions in Revelation. It becomes so easy to imagine the triumph of Jesus Christ mounting His throne to the fulsome blasts of trumpets. You’re instantly reminded of what it is that you labor for, and why we don’t just give up our values and drift mindlessly through life like most of our friends and neighbors.
When I stand there, surrounded by my family, the blast of trumpets reminds me who I am, Whose I am, and where I want to be. It’s enough to shake me awake, to get back in the game, and to keep fighting for that day when I hope to be admitted to the Heavenly Mass, where the trumpets never stop blasting.
Breathing Room
Impulse shopping is really, really fun. There’s the enticement of an email, the excitement of a deal, and the endless possibilities that this next purchase will open up. Anticipation builds as the fulfillment and shipping process plays out and crescendos at the unboxing.
As we mature as people, and in the management of our finances, it becomes clear just how damaging impulsing can be. What feels great in the moment fades to the reality that’s transpired. You changed your priorities, and now that you bought the new thing, some other thing must be deferred or delayed.
While true that impulse shopping feels good, so does a lack of chaos. I aspire to a boring, predictable financial life where the system mostly runs on autopilot. I want a financial life that allows me breathing room to make decisions, where I can add in new priorities without wrecking the essentials. I want to make decisions about what I’m going to impulse on at the beginning of the month, and then be ready to make that leap.
There are a minimum number of things that we have to buy every month: cleaning supplies, food, gas. When I feel that urge to impulse something, if I want to keep that breathing room in my financial life, I need to save it for later, think about, and plan to buy it in the next month.