Did You Ever Try to Hug a Porcupine?

Hey, remember that trailer I blogged about here?  Well, it’s been sitting in my driveway ever since, while I try to decide what to do with it.  It’s become the brunt of many jokes, and much genial conversation with my neighbors.  It turns out there are lots of people who are fascinated with tiny vintage trailers.  And, apparently, one who is definitely not.

Recently some friends dropped by, and in a fit of good humor tore a piece of cardboard and scribbled a sign:


                                                        Hulbert Trailer Park

Reasonable Rates

Inquire Within

We all had a good laugh, and left it taped to the side of my trailer, because that’s the kind of humor we love.

Several days later, a uniformed police officer appeared at our door.

           

            “Is this your residence?” he asked politely.

            “Yes,” I answered warily, wondering why HE looked embarrassed.

            “Is that your trailer in the driveway?”

            “Yes,” I replied as I tried to figure out which regulation I had broken by bringing a derelict, albeit adorable vintage trailer home.  All sorts of thoughts raced through my brain in the matter of a few seconds:  Was it stolen?  OH NO!  I bought stolen property!  Where did I put the title?  I should have registered it.  Why didn’t I get it registered immediately?  Does he want to buy it?  Why the heck does he look so embarrassed?

            “I’m sorry,” he interrupted my panic attack, “but we’ve had a complaint that you have a red trailer in your driveway that you are renting out.”

            Seriously.

            I stood there, blinking stupidly, trying to figure out how to answer that one.  Well, there were a few fleeting words, but none that I could print on this blog.

            “Well, some friends of ours put that sign up as a joke.  Would you like to call them?”

            “No, that’s OK,” he said, and he turned and walked away.

Now, I’m pretty sure I know who called the cops; this isn’t the first time.  We have been continuously singled out for the same infractions that everyone else in the subdivision manages without repercussion.  Whatever.  The point is, I have really tried to hug this particular porcupine.  But I just keep getting poked.

I’ve tried homemade jam, compliments about their landscaping, small talk about their yappy little dog; I’ve even shoveled their sidewalk.  I cannot figure out what I did to become the number one target on their shooting range.  

I guess my only remaining option, and the one I have resisted, is to pray for them.  Unceasingly.  What was that about “love your neighbor?”  Man, it can be tough.  Because, I admit, I’m angry.  This has been going on for over 30 years.  And now God wants me to pray for them?  Well, actually, God probably wanted me to pray for them 30 years ago, but that’s beside the point.  Sort of.

           

But here’s the thing.  Maybe it’s not who I think it is.  Clearly I need to be praying for the correct person, right?

Maybe I could flush them out by putting a little red light in the window and adding a sign that says “Daily and Hourly Rates.” 

What do you do when you need to hug a porcupine?

Take Notice of God

Nothing in this world is as enlightening as teaching a class of 1^st graders. I remember being panic-stricken when I first started. I was in a complete frenzy anticipating that first class. I had a contingency plan for every possible situation. I knew I was going to be a complete and utter flop. I mean really, what I knew about teaching religion could fill a thimble. What I didn’t know, and what I wasn’t prepared for was that, really, I’m the student. It’s the darndest thing what a bunch of seven-year-olds can teach you about Jesus’ Great Commandment. More than ten years after that first day, a veteran catechist, I’m still the student. Both in the classroom and out!

I’m learning how easy it is—with just a little thought—to incorporate my religious values into my daily life. And how it’s even easier not to. It’s all about intentionality, right? Today, I “intend” to go for a run. I ate my Wheaties. The breakfast of champions. I’m outfitted in my best trail-running shoes. Built to take what nature dishes out. I popped a couple of ibuprofen. Pushing past the pain of yesterday’s run. I intend to run, but I have to actually get my butt off this (extremely comfy) kitchen stool, get out there (hmm… it’s cloudy—rain?), put one foot in front of the other (ibuprofen must be defective … still feel my shins!) and start running.  

Okay, that’s it … I’m grabbing my iPod and my neoprene knee supports (in case you were starting to be impressed by my athletic prowess) and I’ll be back in a couple hours.

Intention, purpose, aim, intent, goal, target, objective, plan or the Holy Spirit … you still have to get out there and do it.  

Recalling my very first blog post, I was troubled that faith was becoming something that just happens for an hour or so on Sunday, instead of being part of my everyday intention. Faith is part of our joys, part of our difficulties and part of our day-to-day experiences. To connect faith with our lives, we have to stop and take notice of God who is steadily working there.

This week, I “intend” to take notice, cozy kitchen stool or not.

8 Simple Ways to Celebrate Sacred Time as a Family

The Power of Family Rituals

10 Tips for Better Mealtimes

Exploring the Good Word This Week as a Family

How do you take notice of God in your life?

God is with me, but more,

God is within me, giving me existence.

Let me dwell for a moment on God's life-giving presence

in my body, my mind, my heart

and in the whole of my life.

Fortnight for Freedom

On April 12, the Ad Hoc Committee on Religious Liberty of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) issued a document, "Our First, Most Cherished Liberty,” outlining the bishops’ concerns over threats to religious freedom, both at home and abroad. The bishops called for a “Fortnight for Freedom,” a 14-day period of prayer, education and action in support of religious freedom, from June 21-July 4.

Bishops in their own dioceses are encouraged to arrange special events to highlight the importance of defending religious freedom. Catholic institutions are encouraged to do the same, especially in cooperation with other Christians, Jews, people of other faiths and all who wish to defend our most cherished freedom. [The Diocese of Salt Lake City will provide more information about local activities during the month of June and encourages all Catholics to read the USCCB document.]

The fourteen days from June 21—the vigil of the Feasts of St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More—to July 4, Independence Day, are dedicated to this “fortnight for freedom”—a great hymn of prayer for our country. Our liturgical calendar celebrates a series of great martyrs who remained faithful in the face of persecution by political power—St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More, St. John the Baptist, SS. Peter and Paul, and the First Martyrs of the Church of Rome.  Culminating on Independence Day, this special period of prayer, study, catechesis, and public action would emphasize both our Christian and American heritage of liberty. Dioceses and parishes around the country could choose a date in that period for special events that would constitute a great national campaign of teaching and witness for religious liberty.

You Don't Get to Pick Your Miracle

Several weeks ago, my 86-year old mother was admitted into a local hospital for observation because she had low blood pressure. 

Within three days, she had contracted a common hospital borne infection.  In less than two weeks, she was in intensive care suffering from three antibiotic resistant hospital infections, along with pneumonia.

After three weeks, her body ravaged by infections, she was exhausted.  Too weak to lift her hand or hold her head up by herself, she was ready to give up the fight.

She refused further antibiotics, and prepared herself to die.

That evening, after saying her goodbyes to immediate family members, and reminding me, “Don’t forget to call Beverly and tell her I’m dead” my mother closed her eyes and took a long slow breath. 

And then my mother, who had pretty much done every single thing she had ever set her mind to, took one more long, slow breath; and released it gently.  And then she took another.  And another.

Then, as we awaited the inevitable outcome, she opened her eyes.  Looking somewhat perplexed, she scanned the room, shrugged gently, and took another deep breath.

I spent the night in prayer at my mother’s bedside, asking for a merciful death.

She woke up at 3 am, and huffed, “Well.  I’m mad.” 

“Why, Mom?”  I asked her.  “Because,” she replied, “I’m not dead.”

At 6 am she was awake again.  Shaking her head sadly, she said, “I was so planning on being dead.”

Three weeks later and without benefit of antibiotics, all of her infections have cleared.  She is in a full rehab program, and it is amazing to me to see the progress she makes each 24-hour period. 

So I sit and wonder.  Why did my mother, with a worn out body, an exhausted immune system, no antibiotic support, and clearly no desire to live, survive that night? 

And what about the brain-injured child who remains dysfunctional despite hundreds of thousands of prayers for healing?  Or the family member with cancer, the object of her congregation’s prayers, who dies after18 months  of grueling chemo treatments?  What about the young woman, struck down by a cerebral aneurism? The homeless son whose mother prays unceasingly for his safe return? The stillborn baby, the lost Boy Scout, the suicidal father, the accident victim? 

Why does one person live, another die, and others survive, only to spend the rest of their lives in pain?

It would be comforting to have a solid, black and white answer, but I have nothing.  The bottom line is, you don’t get to pick your miracle.

Cardinal Dolan recently tweeted, “God’s time is not our time.  We prefer the microwave.  He prefers the Crockpot.  The food is usually better.” 

A good thought, but little comfort to the mother watching her child die.

All I can do is know that I trust in God, in the same way a little child, holding her father’s hand, believes that He will be with her through the dark of the night.

And I remember one of my favorite Bible verses, Jeremiah 29:11.  "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

What do you do when you encounter times of faith-shattering desperation?  I'd love to hear your experiences.

Linking up with:

The Redemption of Suffering

Over at The Roman Road, there's an excellent little series on the theology of suffering, a topic dear to my heart from years of preaching/encouraging in a devotional service at a local nursing home.

 It is also a topic very relevant to our modern culture which is so Corinthian and which requires a focus on 'Christ, and him crucified.' It seems to me that there are basically three attitudes towards suffering:

1 Suffering is an illusion, seek enlightenment

Classically expressed in Buddhism, this is also the perspective of some forms of scientific naturalism

2 Suffering is a fact, seek power

Although the paths to power differ, this is the common attitude of Mohammad, Nietzsche, and Marx.

3 Suffering is a redemptive opportunity, seek the Messiah

With its roots in the Hebrew scriptures, this attitude finds its fullest expression in the Catholic Church.

Pope John Paul II, in an apostolic letter from 1984, wrote extensively on the Christian meaning of human suffering in Salvifici Doloris. Here is a brief excerpt:

14. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life". These words, spoken by Christ in his conversation with Nicodemus, introduce us into the very heart of God's salvific work. They also express the very essence of Christian soteriology, that is, of the theology of salvation. Salvation means liberation from evil, and for this reason it is closely bound up with the problem of suffering.

On Marriage Equality

Speaking of equality in marriage, the Church holds that marriage is a sacrament and hence indissoluble both by men and by women, indissoluble both by commoners and by kings.

In this regard, an article from 1972 by Joseph Ratzinger on the dogmatic-historical state of affairs and its significance for the present has recently been translated into English: On the Question of the Indissolubility of Marriage.  Here are a few excerpts:

My Mother's Ears

I got my mom’s ears, and my dad’s nose.  Truth be told, I’d rather it were reversed.  But I got my Grandma’s ankles, which pleases me to no end.  And I got my Great Aunt Emma’s hair, which I believe is punishment for all the giggles that, as children, my brother and I shared over her little pink head, dusted with pure white, downy-fine hair.

We can choose a lot of things, but we can’t choose our gene pool.  All of us are recipients of unique traits handed down to us through generations; and that conglomeration of characteristics is what makes us unique individuals.

But we are so much more than the sum total of our eye color, our hairline, and the size of our feet.  We are who we are because of every decision we have ever made, every person we have ever loved, every painful event we have ever suffered through.  And who we are is constantly changing and evolving.

So here’s the thing.  You can't change your bone structure, but you can always change your mind. 

Every day we make hundreds of decisions; some seemingly insignificant, some we recognize as life changing.  You can change who you are beginning with your very next decision.

Is there something about you that you would like to change? 

Linking up with:

On Eric Peterson

In 2011, Stanford University Press published Michael J. Hollerich's English translation: Theological Tractates, by Eric Peterson. I think the best short introduction to the work of Eric Peterson is via the translation of an introduction which Pope Benedict XVI gave, at the 2010 International Symposium. Here's an excerpt:

The starting point of this path is the binding character of sacred Scripture. According to Peterson, sacred Scripture becomes and is binding not as such, it is not only in itself, but in the hermeneutics of the Apostolic Tradition that, in turn, is made concrete in the Apostolic succession and thus the Church maintains Scripture in a living present and at the same time interprets it. Through the bishops, who are in the Apostolic succession, the testimony of Scripture remains alive in the Church and constitutes the foundation for the permanently valid convictions of the faith of the Church, which we find first of all in the creed and in dogma. These convictions are continuously displayed in the liturgy as a living space of the Church for the praise of God. The Divine Office celebrated on earth is, therefore, in an indissoluble relationship with the heavenly Jerusalem: Offered there to God and to the Lamb is the true and eternal sacrifice of praise, of which the earthly celebration is only an image. Whoever participates in the Holy Mass stands almost on the threshold of the heavenly sphere, from which he contemplates the worship carried out by the angels and the saints. Wherever the earthly Church intones her Eucharistic praise, she is united to the festive, heavenly assembly, in which, in the saints, already a part of her has arrived, and gives hope to all those who are still on the way on this earth towards the eternal fulfillment.

Perhaps at this point I should insert a personal reflection. I first discovered the figure of Erik Peterson in 1951. At the time I was chaplain in Bogenhausen, and the director of the local publishing house Kosel, Mr. Wild, gave me the volume, just published, "Theologische Traktate" (Theological Treatises). I read it with increasing curiosity and let myself be truly impassioned by this book, because the theology I was looking for was there: a theology that employs all the historical seriousness to understand and study the texts, analyzing them with all the seriousness of historical research, and not allowing them to remain in the past, but that, in his research, he participates in the self-surmounting of the letter, enters into this self-surmounting and lets himself be led by it and in this way enters into contact with the One from whom theology itself comes: with the living God. And thus the hiatus between the past, which philology analyzes, and the today, is surmounted by itself, because the word leads to the encounter with reality, and the entire timeliness of what is written, which transcends itself toward reality, becomes alive and operating. Thus, from him I learned, in the most essential and profound way, what theology really is, and I also felt admiration, because here he does not only say what he thinks, but this book is an expression of a path that was the passion of his life.

Faith and Reason in the Public Square

From Pope Benedict's Ad Limina address to the US Bishops earlier this year:

. . . .With her long tradition of respect for the right relationship between faith and reason, the Church has a critical role to play in countering cultural currents which, on the basis of an extreme individualism, seek to promote notions of freedom detached from moral truth. Our tradition does not speak from blind faith, but from a rational perspective which links our commitment to building an authentically just, humane and prosperous society to our ultimate assurance that the cosmos is possessed of an inner logic accessible to human reasoning. The Church’s defense of a moral reasoning based on the natural law is grounded on her conviction that this law is not a threat to our freedom, but rather a “language” which enables us to understand ourselves and the truth of our being, and so to shape a more just and humane world. She thus proposes her moral teaching as a message not of constraint but of liberation, and as the basis for building a secure future.

The Church’s witness, then, is of its nature public: she seeks to convince by proposing rational arguments in the public square. The legitimate separation of Church and State cannot be taken to mean that the Church must be silent on certain issues, nor that the State may choose not to engage, or be engaged by, the voices of committed believers in determining the values which will shape the future of the nation.

In the light of these considerations, it is imperative that the entire Catholic community in the United States come to realize the grave threats to the Church’s public moral witness presented by a radical secularism which finds increasing expression in the political and cultural spheres.