Dig Deeper
It’s easy to wait for whatever’s next. Let this moment pass by, it’s nothing compared to what’s coming next. Life starts to feel like the Sims, where we check off a few things, kill time until bed, then wake up to do it over again. It’s easy to slip into this mindset because thinking about everything we have to do today, and tomorrow, and the next day, is paralyzing. Sinking into the couch and scrolling is cathartic escapism that soothes us in the now, but robs us blind.
I tend to think of my list in terms of energy. I wake up in the morning with x units of energy; how will I spend them? And when they’re spent, is it gone for the day?
Energy can be used up, in the way that you crash onto the couch at 8:30pm, the house immaculate, the to-do list done, and a good steady ache radiating through my muscles. It can also be stolen. It’s stolen when the first thing I do when I wake up is swipe through my phone. It’s stolen, really, any time I scroll. A rectangular brick in my pocket follows me everywhere I go, trying to lull me to relax when really it just steals my energy.
The funny thing is, when I conserve my energy, the mess piles up. Work, school clutter, all of which can only be conquered through focused, extended work sessions. If I do like I ought, a little each day, the system runs.
Rest is never earned; God rested on the seventh day. But on days 1-6, He dug deeper and got it all done.
The Plans
For I know well the plans I have in mind for you —oracle of the LORD— plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.
Cloak
In the Bible and Sacred Tradition, there are certain items to which we ascribe special meaning. God has a way of using ordinary things to bring into reality the extraordinary. One such item is the cloak of St. Joseph.
Back in the early days of Jesus’ life, Joseph had to spirit his young family through the desert into Egypt. Tradition holds that it was done at night as Herod hunted down the newborn King. Joseph, like any Jewish man of his time in history, likely wore a cloak to protect himself from the elements. It’s easy to image that cloak shielding his bride and child on their journey. From this understanding, we now believe the cloak of St. Joseph to have special protective properties.
In prayers to St. Joseph, both modern and ancient, the petitioner asks for the protection of Joseph’s cloak. It shielded Jesus from murderous jealousy, and the prayers beg Joseph to wrap us up in this same cloak.
We imagine grandeur in every action of God, and they are. But in His majesty, God chooses the simple. A piece of humble cloth, wrapped around us, is all that’s needed to protect us from the gravest danger.
Hints of Fall
The dog days of summer are in the rearview mirror as pumpkin spice season is just around the corner. It was another long, hot summer and I’m so ready for the first blast of cool Canadian air.
The green shoots of spring inspire me every year. Subconsciously, I reorganize, plan, and start thinking strategically again. I find myself getting outside of the day-to-day and making a game plan for the season ahead. The crisp fall air and cozy gray skies have the same effect on me.
As I perceive the first hints of fall, my mind gets back into that higher level thinking. It’s natures way of reminding me of the coming winter, and how quickly my life is progressing. The best time to live my best life was last summer; the next best time is starting today.
Drift
Winding down the mind at night is seldom easy. Our racing minds make lists, rehash events of the day, or bother us with endless ideas and anxieties that we could never possibly address in these moments before sleep. Worst of all is the knowledge of how good sleep is for our tired bodies, and our inability to trigger this blissful release.
Mindfulness and meditation is in vogue now, but the Church has always known its myriad benefits. In our hearts is inscribed the desire to love God, to elevate our minds to serve others, and to be connected to our larger human family. Prayer, and its simple repetition, eases the mind and invites peace to calm our chaotic lives.
St. Paul advises prayer without ceasing, and what better way to drift off to sleep than to spend the day’s final moments of consciousness with the God who made us and the saints who so deeply loved Him.
Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence
My favorite Church song is a bit haunting. Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, like much of our liturgical life, is based on a line from the Book of Habakkuk. Its melody is dark, heavy, and somewhat ominous. It’s without a doubt a song about the return of Christ, a moment in history that will be unrivaled in absolute drama.
The lyrics paint a picture of a great battle, the host of heaven pouring into earth, “rank on rank.” It evokes images of the great medieval battles where combat was hand-to-hand, and massive armies clashed in open fields. Light and goodness pouring forth, finally vanquishing all evil in one last fell swoop.
With victory in hand, the angels turn in veneration at God’s arrival, the end of time now at hand, and all things made new.
Reading the lyrics, there’s reason for fear to stir up in our hearts. It contemplates the reality of the unbridled power of God, unleashed in torrents on His enemies. The truth of His reign acknowledged by all as the forces of evil are vaporized.
It’s for that reason that I love this song. It’s easy to think that the end of the world that Jesus promised is some far off date, and unlikely to happen in our lifetimes. With so much to focus on here, now, today, not taking a moment to pause to comprehend the magnitude of this event is easy. The song brilliantly reminds us of the virtue of fear of the Lord. We will experience this great last battle, and if we are on the right side, it will be a time of complete joy.
We shuffle through life mostly asleep; this is one song that wakes you up. The struggle is real, and the effort is worth it. One day, Truth will arrive, and all of our suffering will be vindicated.
Contagious
Late last week, my neighbor across the street was out attempting to finish mowing his lawn. It was hot, he was no doubt tired and just wanting to be done. As he worked on edging the front sidewalk, his toddler waddled over, pacifier in mouth, and gleefully observed his dad at work.
Children hit growth milestones without any fanfare. It’s only in hindsight that we realize, sometimes months later, that a previous behavior associated with infants, has been cast off for more mature behavior. My children do occasionally gleefully observe me in my element, but not with the same toddler-like sense of awe.
Children are inherently joyful, and their ability to be present in the moment and appreciate it for what it is is one of their greatest assets. Their happiness is contagious. Adults deal with serious and weighty things, but when you adapt the worldview of a child, the simple pleasures of live become visible once again.
Magnet
Summer continues, and my children still blissfully spend their days with ended self-directed activity. Audiobooks, creative play, play-dough, they have not a care in the world. For me, my work continues.
There’s a certain magnetism in children that I find amusing. When I’m at my desk, the children congregate. When I go down to the kitchen to get a drink of water, one discovers me, and the rest follow. No matter where I go, they curiously pursue me.
Sometimes they have an ask, something that they want. Other times, they literally follow me to the other room with their activity and establish a new base of operations.
In the times when I’m trying to find peace or get deep work done, it’s less than convenient. At most other times, it’s an endearing quirk of the human experience.
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.