Socrates, Crito, and the 2016 Election

One of my favorite things about Philosophy is how evergreen it is. It's amazing to me that something that was written in 350 BC can be so very relevant to what we do every day, but I guess that's the entire point of the philosophical adventure --getting to the heart of what makes us human. And when we find that heart, it's really no surprise that humanity hasn't changed much.

There has been a great deal of talk about not voting for a presidential candidate in the upcoming presidential election, and, instead, voting down ticket. This is even something that I have toyed with, though I have made no firm statements about what I intend to do. Each of us must vote our own conscience. I only offer these posts as a check to you and to myself --are you sure you know what you are voting for and what that will mean if carried to its logical conclusion?

So, the question this week is: Should Catholics participate in this election fully? I think that the answer to that question is an emphatic and undeniable, "Yes!"

Plato's work, Crito, falls in the life of Socrates, after he is convicted (Apology) of corrupting the youth of Athens and before he is executed (Phaedo). Crito is named for Socrates' interlocutor for this dialogue. A close family friend (a member of his deme) who is a man of means and has connections, Crito has shown up at Socrates' cell just before dawn to break him out and spirit him away before he can be executed. He has bribed the guards and has arranged for Socrates to be taken to another city to live out his days in peace. Socrates, who is an old man of 70, turns Crito down.

Scholars have argued over the intervening centuries as to why Socrates wouldn't go with Crito --some say that it is because he was old and tired of the fight, but most agree that it is to prove a point that the Athenians got what they wanted, (but not what they needed,) by executing him.

In the course of the dialogue, Socrates gives his reasons for staying. First, that by leaving, he would do harm to his reputation as a philosopher. He would be branded as a coward, or worse, as a dishonest man. He had spent his life trying to get the Athenians to govern themselves, personally and politically, with wisdom and to be the same man in public as each was in private. To be one man in private and another in public was, to Socrates, dishonest and did not move one closer to living the best life (which is what ethics is all about). By eliminating his voice, the Athenians might sleep more soundly in the short term and not have to give adequate thought to the laws and governance of the city, but in the long-term that inattention to wisdom will ultimately be their undoing. This is a "prophecy" that Socrates makes in the Apology, but he reiterates it here in the Crito. This, however, is not the argument he spends the most time on.

The argument I really want to focus on is that Socrates tells Crito that he has been a citizen of Athens from his birth and as such, he had taken advantage of the protections of the laws of Athens. Though Socrates has not participated actively in the political life of his city-state, he has benefited from the stability of the political life and the laws that govern him. Plato spends a great deal of time in this dialogue working through a soliloquy that is an imagined dialogue between Socrates and the Laws of Athens. This argument is a two-fold warning for us here in 2016.

First, Socrates gives a defense of the laws themselves. We cannot say that we agree to be governed by the laws of our country and then pick and choose which laws we will follow and which ones we will not. Socrates tells us that he agreed to abide by the laws of Athens and that includes the laws that he disagrees with but were legislated appropriately with a majority vote. This means that if Socrates benefits by the laws of Athens and they say that he should die for his crimes, then he must abide by those laws, too.

This is a warning for the single-issue voter. If you would have a wisely governed country, then you must pay attention to the whole picture. You don't want to be the one working on the cat puzzle while everyone else is working on the balloon puzzle. If you are only focused on one piece of the puzzle, it's easy to miss all the other pieces that make that picture complete. Socrates was so worried about gaining wisdom, that he missed the political piece of the picture that ultimately killed him. (Or maybe he didn't. Maybe his death was the final thing he had to teach the people of Athens --that's a debate I have heard, too!) 

When we focus on a single issue, we can miss the other pieces that would make that issue work more effectively. Legislation that improves life for those who are poor and helps to heal some of the generational effects of poverty treats the roots of the abortion issue, not just the symptom. Ignoring these other issues and clinging only to one piece of that very complex problem ignores a set of tools that might be more effective in ending the scourge of abortion in the long run.

Am I saying that pro-life legislation is worthless? NOT AT ALL. I think it needs to be approached holistically and right now, the approach is not holistic. When we have pro-life public figures actively tearing down victims of sexual assault and defending the indefensible, in the name of respecting all women --including the unborn --we have a big problem with cognitive dissonance.

Secondly, we can infer that Socrates is encouraging us not to stand by and allow laws to be made in our name (as citizens) that we do not agree with. We must use our voices to hold our government accountable. By standing aside and allowing laws to be made without his active participation, Socrates has become the unintentional victim of his own lack of involvement in the political process.

This is a warning for the apathetic voter - if you don't vote, you may be the unintentional victim of what comes next. Whether you vote for Hillary Clinton, Donald Trump, a third-party candidate or no one, you will still be subject to the winner's rule. That's the agreement we make as citizens of the United States. We benefit from all of the freedoms (and, yes! there are still many more that we enjoy than citizens of other nations) but this also means that we must accept the outcome of the political process. If you do not participate, then you have no hand in that decision.

There is a saying in the Catholic Church that we always get the vocations that we deserve. I think that the same can be said of our politicians in the United States. My daughter, quite frankly, is furious with all of us. This is her very first presidential election as a voter "...and these are the choices you're giving me?" But, maybe we really do deserve exactly these choices. It's up to us to choose wisely and force the parties we have left after this election to make better choices in 2020.


Photo: "The Death of Socrates"  Jacques-Louis David (detail)

Want to read Crito for yourself? Click here to get access to a free online copy.

#NotOkay: Sexual Assault and the Politics of Winning

Trigger Warning -- Sexual Assault Descriptions

"Silence" - Johann Heinrich Fuessli (1741 - 1825)

Canadian journalist, Kelly Oxford (@kellyoxford), has been running a Twitter campaign in response to Donald Trump's 2005 remarks regarding the treatment of women and fame that has drawn more than one million women (no exaggeration here) out of silence to talk about their sexual assaults. I started to participate but decided that I had more to say than 140 characters would hold.

Since my childhood, I have been the victim of 7 sexual assaults, only two of which I reported.

5 years old - In my own backyard. I was stopped by a man in a car in the alley behind my house who showed me "what (he had) in his pants" and then offered me the opportunity to put my mouth on it. I declined but never told anyone because I had no idea that it was anything but just gross.
8 years old - At a Summer Camp, I was taken into a grove of pine trees by a group of boys, who raised my shirt to look at my breasts (which were apparently unimpressive, whereupon, I was let go). I reported this to my counselor who went looking for the boy I could describe. When he was found, he denied the whole thing and I was told to stop making things up.
10 years old - In my house, my babysitter decided to feel me up while "making sure I was in my bed." When I told him to stop it, he did, so I never told my parents.
11 years old - On the city bus, I was seated on a bench seat. The man who sat next to me began to spread his legs out until they were touching mine. I didn't realize what was going on until he put his hand on the seat next to me and started to touch my hip. I got off at the next stop and waited for the next bus and assumed that it was just me being hypersensitive.
12 years old - On my paper route, I was collecting for the monthly bill. An old man who had been very kindly toward me and had several grandchildren that he looked after, grabbed my breasts (which were more impressive than they were when I was 8) and humped me. He told me I was a good girl and he'd take good care of me. I quit carrying papers that month. I never told anyone because I figured that no one would believe me.
14 years old - At a babysitting job, a man who had been a guest in the house for dinner, stayed to help me with the dishes and then stayed to help himself to a little heavy petting. I participated, but he was 28. I was 14 and he knew it. I never considered this an assault until last year when I realized what had really been going on.
16 years old - At a party, I was given enough beer to get pretty well trashed and then raped by a co-worker who was twice my age. When I finally told my parents, because I was so ashamed that I had been at a party where I should not have been, nothing could be done about it.

Why are these stories so important to tell and what does this have to do with the 2016 Election?

The stories are important to tell because they point to an objectification of women that stretches far back into our history. Women and girls are simply tools for gratification. Actually, rather than raising our stock to "personhood" feminism has simply degraded the stock of men, so we objectify them, too. This has now become pervasive in our society, so much so that we have enshrined it in our entertainment.

Take a look at our obsession with shows like The Bachelor/Bachelorette, Survivor, and Big Brother. And how about the 50 Shades trilogy? We are making those people into objects for our own gratification. We are seeking our entertainment from watching their pain and discomfort. It is this obsession with people's discomfort that drives these sexual assaults. It's all about power: I can make you flinch or do what I want you to do.

This objectification of people has everything to do with this year's election because BOTH candidates are guilty of using and abusing people in order to gain power and pleasure. This is the battle we have been ignoring. We've been following this wild dog of objectification and it's about to turn around and bite us in the collective face.

There are many who are defending Donald Trump by saying that these were just lewd comments and that actions speak louder than words. This ignores the fact that he is describing an actual encounter in which he sexually imposed himself on a woman without her consent. This is an admission of an actual sexual assault. Furthermore, it belies a much more deep-seated issue that Mr. Trump seems to struggle with on all fronts - the dehumanization and objectification of all people. For Trump, everyone is an object --a tool, if you will -- for his gratification.

He has displayed this same contempt for the women in his family, giving shock jock, Howard Stern, permission to call his daughter Ivanka "a piece of ass" and making the comment that he thinks his daughter is hot and he would sleep with her.

Really? This is the man we want representing our country? Even in his apology, he says "I'm sorry if you were offended" squarely placing the blame on those who are offended, and not taking the blame himself.

I have said before that I do not believe that the man is pro-life. He views those children's lives as a tool to get elected. If that rhetoric does not serve him in the discharge of his office, if he does not get what he wants, he will dump it.

Hillary Clinton is not immune to this objectification problem, either. No, she's not objectifying beautiful women, just because they are beautiful, but dig into her remarks about the White House interns and the women who accused Bill Clinton of sexually assaulting them.

The problem is NOT that she stayed with her husband, the problem is how she treated the victims of those assaults. She shamed those women. She told them to stop making things up so that she would not lose power. First they were objects for her husband's gratification, then they became objects that were not doing what she wanted them to do, so she shamed them into silence.

Sound familiar? It does to me.

I was silent about my sexual assaults because I was told to stop making things up when I was 8, because a camp counselor just wanted to go hang out at the campfire with the other counselors. How many other women and girls suffered at these men's hands because I was silent? I'd be willing to bet it was more than one and even one more is too many.

Hillary Clinton should have to answer for this. I hope that she does, but I am not naive enough to think that this will actually happen.

What bothers me most about this "Trumpster fire" is the Cirque du Soleil-like contortions being engaged in by his supporters in order to win this year. And make no mistake, it is about winning, not being right. Right would be a move toward overall virtue. There is more than one virtue, Pro-life America!

I know Hillary is no saint, but Donald makes her look like flipping Mother Teresa. The objectification of women is only the latest way in which he has dehumanized large groups of people. The poor, immigrants, anyone who disagrees with him, fat people, ugly people, disabled people... It's not that he's so very different than any other politician --they have all objectified groups of people and individuals for their own personal gain or pleasure. It's that he's so very proud of what he has done.

Basically, to Donald Trump, if you are not white, wealthy and male, you are not a person. You are a tool.

Please, don't be a tool. Vote. And vote smart. 

If you are a Catholic, you cannot in good conscience vote for either one of these candidates, but do not be silent. My suggestion to you is to vote solidly pro-life (in all senses of that word) down-ticket. If you are concerned that Hillary Clinton would put pro-choice justices on the Supreme Court, vote in enough pro-life legislators to block that initiative. If you are concerned that Donald Trump would just run the country into the ground and get us into wars around the world then vote in legislators that would keep him in check.

Artwork:  Public Domain

An Open Letter to my Friends Who Engage in Food Stamp Recipient Shaming

There's a problem with this meme. Read more below.

Dearest Friends,
My husband and I have had a rough life. We have been on food stamps, have received Medicaid for many years, went without a car for about five years, and even went with no heat and no hot water for a few years. At one point, we were actually homeless. Yes, it's true. Homeless.
Poverty, it seems, has many faces --some that you might not expect.
We relied (heavily) on the charity of others. It was painful to ask for help. You cannot possibly know the shame involved in asking St. Vincent de Paul for yet another stopgap and having them ask you if you're working. You may not realize what it's like to be told, "You don't really need this. Go get a job! Who do you think you are?" I truly hope you don't know the shame of knowing that your pastor thinks that you are less than worthy of his time because you're "just using the church as an extra income."
We did not just sit around and wait for people to hand us things. We went to work. Every. Day. In all places we found ourselves, we tried to make the world a little better.
Yes, we did make stupid decisions, but we made smart decisions occasionally, too. We moved from place to place, hoping that this time we would be able to make it work, but only recently has that been the reality. We worked hard, but we also had moments that could be characterized as lazy. Or maybe that was the depression that set in when we realized that our family was relying on us and we couldn't make it work.
Why am I telling you this?
I see so many people in my Facebook thread passing around a nasty little meme that likens those who receive food stamps to animals in the National Parks.

Stop it.

Charitably, I have decided that you don't really think that my life and the lives of my children and husband are only worth as much as animals in a park. I would certainly hope that anyone who knows me, personally, would believe that I was worth more to them than a raccoon, or an opossum, or even a bear. Again, charitably, I have decided that you don't really think that people who are poor are expendable.

But maybe you do; maybe I'm wrong about you, my friends.
When you engage in this kind of argument --an argument that casts people as something other than human beings, be that Skittles or wild animals --you turn those people into objects. I don't really believe that you do view all creatures as objects, but be aware, that if you do, then you are subscribing to a philosophy called Preference Utilitarianism. Here's a quick and dirty breakdown of this Philosophy:

1)    There are things that are right and wrong.

2)    Decisions of right and wrong are made based on the amount of happiness they cause.

i)      Right = Greatest Amount of Happiness

ii)     Wrong = Lesser Amount of Happiness

3)    Happiness is a satisfaction of preferences.

4)    The more preferences that are satisfied across a population (and that population could be as small as a couple or as big as the whole world) the more right the action is.

5)       It is your moral responsibility to satisfy the majority of a population's preferences, even if it doesn't satisfy your own preference.

Well, now this is all very logical. Let's apply it: Allowing refugees into the US doesn't satisfy many people's preference for safety, so we keep them out. Many of them die, but that's okay, because our population's preference for safety is satisfied. We are fulfilling our societal obligations and moral responsibilities by satisfying those preferences for safety. If we don't have to think of refugees as human beings then it makes it much easier to ignore their suffering.
Paying taxes that are redistributed as money for food doesn't satisfy many people's preference for being able to hang on to more of the money that they worked hard for. Studies have shown that those who are raised in homes where food sources are not stable are about twice as likely to suffer cognitive disabilities due to poor nutrition,and will likely be impoverished as adults, but that's okay, because our preference for having what we want is satisfied. If we think of food stamp recipients as animals in a park, then we can ignore the fact that 1 out of 4 children are going to bed hungry tonight. (I have other arguments attached to this about educational reform and hunger affecting the long-term preferences of society and the fact that by not considering these folks as having preferences, we dehumanize them even further --but that's a whole discussion on its own.)
All of that said, Preferential Utilitarianism is a big problem if you're Catholic. When we follow this philosophy all the way to its logical end we'll discover it's the root of what has caused the problem of abortion. If we don't have to think about the fact that a fetus is human, then it makes it much easier to "get rid of". Right?
Let's go a step further: You find out that a child you are carrying is going to live, but will be severely disabled. This child will be on governmental assistance programs to help care for them. This is a burden on society and also the family. Under this philosophy, you have a moral responsibility to abort this child because it satisfies the majority of the population's preference to keep more of the money that they earn. Further? If the child is already born and will be a drain on society's resources, it is incumbent upon you to kill the child.
Wait, first we were talking about food stamps and suddenly we're talking about infanticide? Yes, it does go that far. In all respects, this philosophy removes the human aspect of a creature and treats everything as equal, (animals, people, Skittles) insofar as they satisfy or don't satisfy preferences.
So, if you are arguing that food stamp recipients are like bears, you have embraced this form of Utilitarianism. Is that really what you think? This is completely counter to the teachings of the Catholic Church.
Maybe we amuse you. Maybe we inspire you. Maybe one of us is useful to you in some way. But do you care about us? Do you love us for who we are, not what we offer you?
Please do let me know. I would hate to waste any more of your precious time and resources. I will not unfriend you. I will probably not block you, but I will try to convince you that I am worth something more than a wild pig or a coyote.
Yes, I was a government assistance recipient. I got off of it and it was hard work, but it happened. So, no, we don't become dependent like hand-fed animals.
Yes, I am a human being with feelings, thoughts and a will to live as are many, many of the other government assistance recipients out there, and yet, I, and the thousands of others who have to rely on the government for food each month, have something to contribute to the well-being of this world. Even if that contribution is only an opportunity for you to practice charity.

On Moral Dilemmas and Not Giving Up the Ship

"Oil on Troubled Waters" by Frank Mason 

A friend of mine put this quote up on my Facebook page today:

"You must not abandon the ship in a storm because you cannot control the winds… What you cannot turn to good, you must at least make as little bad as you can."

— St. Thomas More

This is SO apropos for our current political situation; don't you think? What do we do when there are no good options?

There are really two parts to this quote and while they are not completely unrelated, I want to address them separately. Let's start with the back piece first: "What you cannot turn to good, you must at least make as little bad as possible," and that will lead us to the Ship.

Having recently spent a semester pondering the question of moral dilemmas*, this quote struck me as an endorsement of Gratian's exhortation in the Decretum that when hemmed in by two obviously bad choices, one must always choose the lesser of two evils because it leads you closer to virtue in the end. That would seem to be in line with St. Thomas More’s quote.

But, in later centuries, as Gratian's writings were used to train future generations, there were later thinkers who argued with Gratian. They are called the Glossators because they wrote "glosses" (or notes, or marginalia) on the original text.

The Glossators hold that "The Master (that's Gratian) errs gravely" when he counsels taking the lesser of two evils. They hold, instead, that God would never put us into a situation where there would ever be no good option. To hold that there are moral dilemmas in which there are no good choices, is to hold that God is not merciful. The Glossators go on to say that since we know that God is all-good and all-loving, he would never put us into a situation where we would have to jeopardize our immortal souls.

Okay, so quick recap:

Gratian: Moral dilemmas exist and if you encounter one, you should choose the lesser of two evils.
Glossators: Moral dilemmas do not exist, so if you encounter one, it's not really a moral dilemma, there is another choice you haven't come up with.

Aquinas does some thinking about this idea of moral dilemmas, too. In De Malo (On Evil,) he suggests that there are moral dilemmas, but he breaks them down into two types: simpliciter and secundum quid.

Dilemmas Simpliciter are stiuations where an agent, through no fault of their own, must choose between two equally bad options. Aquinas thinks that if these exist, they are very rare.

Secundum Quid Dilemmas are moral dilemmas that come about because of the agent's past actions. These actions can be decisions that were made years previous, but still come back to bite you in the end. Aquinas thinks that these are much more common.

Another quick recap:

Aquinas believes that there are moral dilemmas—situations where there is no good choice –but these are dilemmas of our own making (secundum quid). In line with Aquinas' very Aristotelian thought, there is, in fact, a cause for everything!

“Don’t give up the Ship!”

Many of my friends and relatives have chosen to support Mr. Trump. They see him as the lesser of two evils. My friends and relatives insist that I should not “give up the ship just because I cannot control the winds.” But I say that there must be a way to reset the sails and capture those winds for the benefit of all.

For 30 years, I have been a committed and active Republican. I even convinced my husband, a committed and active Democrat, to vote for Republican candidates because I believed that they were the better option. They said, and did, the right things where the question of abortion was concerned. Given this framework, the problems with supporting Hillary Clinton as a candidate are obvious. Donald Trump says all the right things - of course he does; he's a salesman - but I see no real evidence of his commitment to the Truth. What has he done to back these claims of pro-life commitment?

Sure, he says that he has accepted Christ and is now a committed Christian. A friend even likened him to Saul of Tarsus at one point, but even Saul had to prove his commitment to Peter. Saul had been wounded and had to be healed, and in order to do that, he had to be humble before Peter and the other apostles. I see no evidence in Donald Trump’s swaggering braggadocio that he has been knocked to the ground by his wounds. In addition, the rhetoric he employs in terms of who can be in America, who can move about freely – essentially determinations of personhood –are so far beyond the scope of Catholic Teaching as to be terrifying.

I do not believe that he is pro-life.

So what do we have here between Ms. Clinton and Mr. Trump?  In our two-party system, there seems to be an overall sense that this is an either/or choice. Even if we broaden our choices our to include Mr. Johnson (the Libertarian candidate) and Ms. Klein (the Green candidate), we still find no support for a pro-life stance.

If, as Catholics of good conscience, we are bound not to vote for someone who has stated that they support abortion rights, in that sense, I believe that we have a moral dilemma. But, I think that what we have here is a Secundum Quid dilemma. We, as a society, have allowed this to happen with our choices.

Rather than Catholics standing together and saying, “there must be another way,” we have acquiesced to the two-party argument that to choose a third way is to throw our votes away. By always choosing the lesser of two evils, as Gratian suggests, we have not moved toward virtue, we have moved further away from it.

We believed that the Republicans would change the federal laws governing abortion, but when they had control of the House, Senate, White House and Supreme Court, they did nothing. Nothing.

We have allowed the political powers-that-be to steal our voices and use them to bring forth ideas and laws that we, as Catholics, do not support. Since when does a stranger in a strange land get told, “Sorry, no room in the inn”? This is a reaction born out of Fear. Aquinas addresses this in another spot: “Fear is such a powerful emotion for humans that when we allow it to take over, it drives compassion right out of our hearts.”

We have allowed Fear to rule us, not Love and not Wisdom, and it has led us to this moral dilemma.

In a democratic republic, it is true, not every single vote counts, but a large enough groundswell can change the course of the river. We must stand against that tide as Catholics. We must stand up for our principles and we must vote with our consciences. My conscience tells me that Donald Trump, and the Republicans who support him are erring gravely and are leading us to worse places in the very near future.

I read a book during my Junior year of college that changed my life: Plato's Republic. In it, Plato lays out all of the different types of people and political systems we have in the world. He details the decay of civilization and predicts with stunning accuracy how we will get to each stage – from Monarchy to Aristocracy to Oligarchy to Democracy to Tyranny.

As I read, I realized that we have passed through all of them in human history and we are just a breath away from Tyranny in this country. Plato actually names Tolerance as one of the forerunners of Tyranny. To put it succinctly, he predicts that we will be so open-minded that our brains will fall out. But Tolerance is meant in many senses here. We buck against toleration of ideas that go against our own, especially when we see that they are damaging to the society at large. And that is as it should be. We should stand up for wise governance.

But, if we are willing to tolerate someone who admires leaders and people who lie and kill to get what they want (or who actually are leaders who lie and kill to get what they want), and who are so hungry for power that they will say or do anything to get it, then we are just as bad as those who tolerate other sins against the Father.

I cannot in good conscience vote for a person who has no record of being a decent and wise human being in the name of "winning". If we Catholics, as a group, do not rise up and say "no more!" this situation will continue to degrade and we will find ourselves prisoners of our own choices.

In fact, Plato addresses that, too. One of the hallmarks of tyranny is the lack of freedom --not just for the governed, but for the individual tyrant. He is a prisoner of his own desires, always wanting more. He constantly worries about how he will keep his power and who is coming to take it from him. He fears for his life. 

We might already be there. When you have to ask what is the lesser of two evils, that means you are trapped.

There are those who have advocated standing back and letting it all play out --the so-called Amish-Option. Even if we choose to exercise that option this time, we should never stand quietly. Moving forward, we should choose our champions wisely. It is, perhaps, time to consider that the two-party system does not serve us well. The either/or fallacy that this system sets up can be broken by a significant enough shock --but we MUST find the third way.

Fortunately, Aquinas gives us one more piece of advice for dealing with secundum quid dilemmas: he tells us that the only way out is through confession, penance and amendment. I don't think it's any accident that Jesus tells us, quite plainly, that He is the Way and the place that we can find him is in the Sacraments.

*Apologies to Michael V. Dougherty, PhD (my excellent professor at Ohio Dominican University, who wrote an excellent book on the subject of moral dilemmas) - I'm doing this from memory because my notes are in storage.

Just a note: the idea of moral dilemmas is not a settled question. The debate is still going on today. This is just the information I am working with and what I hold to be true. You may disagree. You may believe Gratian. I believe Aquinas.

Joan of Arc and Everyday Courage

I recently saw this painting of St. Joan of Arc on Facebook with the following quote attributed to her:

Joan of Arc, Michael C. Hayes (c) 2010

“It is better to be alone with God.
His friendship will not fail me,
nor his counsel, nor his love.
In his strength, I will dare and dare
and dare until I die.”

Well, of course, we all know that she did dare until she died, and keeps on daring us -those who have followed her -to follow the steep path she cut for us.

When I saw this painting, I was struck by how young she looks. My daughter, just barely out of her teens, looks older than this young girl. Joan is my Confirmation patroness. I fell in love with her after reading Mark Twain's biography of her when I was in 7th grade. She has a way of beguiling people, writers like Twain and George Bernard Shaw, admitted to having fallen in love with this peasant girl from the middle ages. I didn't stand a chance. My son saw me meditating on the picture and knew immediately who this was, exclaiming, "Oh, Mom, I just love her!"

What is it that draws us to this young woman who was, by all reports, a simple girl who could neither read, nor write? She was not gently reared, nor was she well-spoken. She heard voices and donned men's clothes and dared to go to meet a very powerful man and tell him what he ought to be doing. And all of this before the age of 19. People were certain she was crazy and forensic psychology experts have posthumously diagnosed her with bipolar disorder. Well, maybe she was crazy, but that doesn't lessen her achievements and it doesn't take away her holiness.

When Joan first left home, she was 14 years old. When my son came upon me staring at my screen in awe of the piece of art you see above, I was actually thinking about what I was doing at 14. I was involved in marching band, choir, and theatre. I was very busy complaining about having to work to pay my way through Catholic high school and having to watch my two youngest siblings. I regularly whined about how much power I didn't have and how lost I was in the world. If you were looking for me, you were likely to find me lying alone on my bed and daydreaming about being anywhere but where I was. 

Joan, on the other hand, had set out on a journey to save her country. She was sleeping on the ground and armoring for battle. She went to find a man who just wanted to play, just to tell him that God wanted him on the throne of France and she was going to put him there. She led an army - and they won against great odds at Orleans against the English. While she followed God's plan for her life, she succeeded, but when she deviated from it, or tried to bring glory to herself or someone other than God, she failed. 

It's in interesting contrast. And in retrospect I believe I had much more in common with the Dauphin than I did with Joan, and still do. Most kids at 14 are a lot more like I was. What made Joan different was her trust - her faith and her willingness to go where she was led. Her fearlessness, even in the face of certain death, was a powerful witness not just to teenagers, but to all of us. She absolutely trusted that God would care for her. No matter what anyone did to her body, her soul would live in eternal peace with the one who knew and loved her best. 

When I am faced with things I don't want to face - loneliness, confronting my own weaknesses, taking a stand for what I believe to be right in the face of great odds -I am going to remember my patroness: young, simple and so full of trust. Then, I'm going to get up and do what I must.

Neither Gentile nor Jew, Servant nor Free, Woman nor Man: Age 18

When I was 18, I decided that the Catholic Church was not for me and left it behind.

I had been completely confused by what my teachers were dishing out in Religion class. I had parents who sort of flirted with the idea that there was really not much difference between denominations. Though it was a requirement to go to Mass each week, I had no idea why it was so important. My pastor was so caught up in social justice issues that he forgot to teach the Faith that backs it all up and makes it make sense.

As a result of all these mixed messages, I believed that not even the Church knew what it was teaching. Asking those three entities what Church teaching was on any given subject might yield three different answers.

So there I was, the summer after my senior year, desperately looking for a spiritual home. And I found one at a local evangelical megachurch. The services were engaging and uplifting and I found more than a little support for asking questions and they seemed more than happy to help me find the answers.

In those days, there was not yet a definitive Catechism of the Catholic Church, nor was there access to the vast resources of the Internet to research and find answers. When I asked questions, I got two kinds of responses: 1) a kind of a wishy-washy response about "following my conscience" or 2) I would get answers that seemed rehearsed and didn't seem to come from a grounding in scripture at all.

***

I had been away from Mass for several months when my father asked me to come and sing with his parish choir for Christmas. The music that was routinely played at the services that I went to at my evangelical church were simply no match for the majestic beauty of the choral masterpieces that my parents' parish choir was singing. So, on the First Sunday of Advent, I went to Mass to sing with the choir.

Music has always been a path to God for me. I find that every time I have a close encounter with God, music is involved either as an inspiration, a response to the experience or just the sign pointing to the beginning of the road. This time it was no different. It was love of the music that drew me to Church that day and marked the beginning of the path back.

I didn't go to Communion, of course. I still thought it was just a symbol and I didn't need a wafer to get close to God. I carried His Word in my heart, but I can remember meditating on the people coming back from Communion. No custody of the eyes for me: I was completely unaware that watching people receive Communion was kind of rude.

I spotted one of the kids I grew up with lurking at the back of the church. I always assumed that he was a juvenile delinquent. He had kind of a rough attitude and was always dressed like he was more ready for the bar, than church. But I recalled that he seemed to be here every Sunday.

He filed up to receive Communion behind one of the sweetest little old ladies I have ever known - one right behind the other - and with the same light shining in their eyes and an attitude of complete trust, they both received Communion. I realized in that very moment that there must be something here. There must be something real here.

I closed my eyes and realized that all over the world there were thousands of people receiving the Eucharist at that very moment.  It was something that united all of us: the bad, the good, the rich and the poor. People who had lived before me and those who would come after me, too. Heaven help me, I actually heard the first verse of "One Bread, One Body" playing in my head: "Gentile or Jew, servant or free, woman or man, no more..." We truly are one body in Jesus Christ. And if the Eucharist crossed all those boundaries it could not possibly be untrue.

I was still unaware of the meaning of the term "Communion of Saints", but I had an experience of it in my head that day.  I suddenly became aware of the unity that exists in the Eucharist - a unity that transcends time and space. It was life-altering.

Since that morning, I have never doubted the efficacy of the Eucharist. I knew it did something real, but it would be a few more years before I understood the Real Presence. I knew that there was something about it, and that I needed it. I realized that I had been missing it. It was food for those on a journey and I was definitely on a journey. But as yet, I still did not understand the reality of Jesus (body, blood, soul and divinity) in the Eucharist.

***

The thing I found so appealing about the evangelical megachurch I became attached to was if there was a question, they knew where to get the answer. They always looked to the Bible. In my experience, the Catholic Church simply didn't have that knowledge of the Word of God. But, the strength of this ability to go to scripture also becomes its weakness. The problem with the Sola Scriptura mindset is that there's a question of interpretation. Some things just can't be explained neatly. If I disagree with your interpretation, for example, who's right?

Because of the hierarchical structure of the Catholic Church, there is an ultimate authority for interpretation. In my 30's I would eventually figure that out, but as a teenager, I was still very dedicated to having my own say and my own way. The breakdown happens when individuals decide that they don't like the Church's authoritative teaching so they throw it out. That's why I was getting different stories from different quarters.

Intellectual Pride is a constant struggle for me. I always want to handle things myself and then, once I have it handled, get back to God. Unfortunately, that's exactly the wrong order. I'm still working on that one: Poverty of Spirit and Humility are virtues that still elude me.

Additionally, there is an actual grace that is imparted in the Sacraments that you simply do not get elsewhere. While we have grace showered on us from all corners, the close, personal encounters with Christ through the sacraments give specific graces to strengthen us and build up charity in our lives. This is crucial to building understanding between ourselves and the world around us, as well as in our own hearts - leading us to know who we are as sons and daughters of God.

***

After realizing that there was a reality that I had missed in Communion, I couldn't wait to get to Communion the next week. Of course, I had no idea that I needed to go to Confession, but that would come later.

God used the Grace of the Sacraments to bring me closer to him and began to renovate my soul. I had found one missing piece, but was still searching for that scriptural support.

Conversion is a funny thing: Age 16

I've been thinking a lot about my conversion lately. I was raised Catholic, and apart from a very short period of time when I was 18, I was always Catholic. But not exactly the best Catholic. There were a lot of things I simply did not understand about the Faith. 

I'm not sure why, but my conversion has just really been on my mind a lot recently. I don't really think of it in terms of a knocked-to-the-ground conversion moment. It's really very much a knocked-to-the-ground-repeatedly series of events. Maybe that's why I haven't ever written about it.

It's a really complex story. It takes a lot of twists and turns. It's not a straight line and it's not a moment in time when I knew the Truth. As a matter of fact, God and I have sparred with each other for about 30 years now and he's still not finished with me yet.

Conversion is a funny thing. It's completely individual for each person. Placing a formula on conversion is like trying to buy a wedding dress off the rack at Filene's Basement - and not have any alterations done. It's impossible. Well, at least close to it.

My conversion, for example, has been a case of learning that without God, I am nothing. I am not in control of the world around me, only God is. And furthermore, God can bring great good out of the most tragic evils that we can throw at Him.

I can't really tell my whole story in all it's gory detail.  There's passion, betrayal, joy, suffering, death, despair, triumph and even a few encounters with the voice of God.  But I can share one of the most important things I have learned: Without an encounter, a personal encounter, with Jesus Christ, there is no real conversion.

This series will be kind of catch-as-catch-can. We'll see where this takes us. Today, though, we'll begin at 16.

The "Mother Ship" - Immaculate Conception Church
My native parish.

 - Age 16 - 

I can remember going to spend time in the church in the middle of the night when I was a teenager. Things would get tough at home and I'd go for a walk to clear my head or get some space. Almost every time I would end up sitting in front of the tabernacle at Immaculate Conception. I wasn't sure why, but I knew that it was the right place to be.

The homeless men who took shelter against the elements in the church pews never bothered me. Maybe I was too certain of my invincibility or just too dumb to be afraid (I was a teenager, after all,) or maybe I really had nothing to fear. I remember there being a great deal of dissention within the parish about the dangers of leaving the church unlocked. Regardless of what my pastor's motivation was for keeping the doors of our urban church unlocked day and night, I will always be eternally grateful for the spiritual shelter of the always-open church.

Even at that young age, I would sing to the Lord in the silence of the Church or just sit quietly and contemplate the tabernacle. I had no real understanding of the reality of the Eucharist at the time, mind you. Despite my very expensive Catholic school education, I truly believed that the Eucharist was just a symbol. It was just a piece of bread that represented something that I could never attain.

I knew about the Bible. I read the entire Bible my Third and Fourth grade year. I read a chapter a night until I was finished. Of course, I didn't understand it, but it was a start. And the actual words went to work on my heart - whether or not I knew or understood them. I can see that now. But, I couldn't see it at 16.

Church was just a quiet place to be and the altar of reservation was just so lovely, I couldn't help but be drawn to it. I had no idea that Jesus was actually calling to me. He was wooing me and courting me, just as my husband would a few years later. Jesus wanted so very much to be with me and be my strength and my comfort in my tumultuous life. I wasn't so sure. I was so caught up in finding out who I was, that I neglected to find out who he was. I had no idea that when I took the time to find out who Jesus really was, I would find myself, too.

To me, Jesus was just a nice idea. A nice guy, who never got angry or threw things (I kinda skipped that whole "expelling the money changers from the temple" thing, I guess). Jesus was a perfect person. I would never be a perfect person. Even more remote was the idea of his mother, Mary. How could someone be that perfect? Not me. I was as far from perfect as I could get.

The divine life was a concept for me. It was a construct of harps and angels, and clouds and blue skies that was so far removed from my experience that I could not even conceive of such a place or of such persons. God was just an idea. There was nothing personal about him for me.

It is very hard to have an encounter with an idea. Ideas have no real substance and carry no weight. Part of the beauty of the Incarnation is the fact that through God's revelation of the person of Jesus, we are able to put a face with a name. We are able to touch the face of God. And, in fact, through the sacraments, we do just exactly that. In the Eucharist we touch God and he becomes one with us.

There is a sensual experience of receiving and adoring the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus in the Eucharist. There is something tangible in spending time with the Blessed Sacrament. It's not just an idea or a magic trick. It is a reality. It brings us, not just close to God, but we become subsumed into the Body of Christ by receiving Him into our bodies in a real and tangible way.

I am no Theology of the Body expert. Heck, I'm not an expert on anything but liturgical music. I just know what my experience has been.

If you want to get close to the Lord, if you want to have a personal relationship with Jesus, you have to start with the Sacraments. Each one becomes a conduit through which we receive and build Grace and Charity. But there are three, in particular, that specifically speak to my journey.

Through Confession, he speaks to me, personally.
Through the Eucharist, he actively storms the borders of my comfortable little life.
Through Confirmation, he called me to take the light of Grace to the world.

Is Jesus calling to you? Will you let him win your heart?

Nietzsche's Unintentional Explanation of the Mystical Body of Christ

Friedrich Nietzsche is going to come back from the grave and haunt me for this, but I'm so totally going to do it anyway. I am working on constructing an argument so bear with my half-formed logic and ideas, please.

You know who gives the very best description of what it is to be a Catholic? Nietzsche.

And it's completely unintentional which makes it extra-moral so it's even better and more Nietzschean.

For as loudly as he protests the role of religion in society and how we have allowed the slaves to become the masters, Nietzsche's explanation of how the slave and master can inhabit the same person (Aphorism 259 in Beyond Good and Evil) is a brilliant launch for an explanation of the Mystical Body of Christ.

As you may or may not know, Nietzsche embraces a kind of dark picture of what it is to be human. He sees the ultimate drive of life as the "will to power" (der Wille zur Machen). This means that the drive of all life (not just humanity, but all life) is to vent what strength each being possesses on things around it.

So, using human beings as an example, all human beings work to exercise dominion over everything in their sphere - the earth, other people, animals, everything. Of course, when applied to human beings this is a very dark picture, indeed, as we are pretty scary creatures in our fallen state. But he's not completely wrong here.

What if that "will to power" was applied to God?

Ah yes! it makes sense in that context. God, who draws all things to Himself, calls us and draws us into union with Him. We give ourselves over to Him as servants and He is our head, our Master.

Think Baltimore Catechism:

Who made you? God made me.Why did God make you? He made me to love and serve Him in this world so that I can be with Him in the next.

God created you to share in His Divine Life, to be one with Him. It's like the ultimate "will to power" and indeed, it is the drive of all life because without God's will we would cease to exist.

Only Nietzsche stops before he gets to God and thus, misses the entire point of being servants. If we are subsumed into the Body of Christ then, yes, we are indeed elevated in our servitude. In our weakness, we are made strong precisely because in our surrender we become one with the Master.

Interesting? Or maybe I'm reading too much into this. What do you think?

Is Love Missing in Philosophy?

Something has been bugging me throughout the semester in studying Plato, Descartes, Rousseau and now Nietzsche. Something important is missing. It took me a long time to lay my finger on the problem I was having. I thought, at first it was the utter disregard for a plurality of opinion: they all think they have the one true answer. And then I encountered Nietzsche. Plurality of opinion is not exactly a problem there.

It was there that I realized the utter lack of Love in Philosophy.

In Plato's work "Republic" he proposes a plan to manage marriage and procreation in order to eliminate strife and jealousy within the "Happy City". He proposes year-long marriages and any children produced would be raised in common with all the children, so that parents would protect all the children instead of just their own.

In the "Discourse on Method" Descartes never addresses relationships at all, really. But he does state that plans and projects handled by one individual are better and more well crafted than those handled by more than one person. Where, then, would that leave a relationship?

Rousseau believes that Savage Man would have met up, had relations and moved on leaving babies with their mothers, until such time as that child no longer needed a mother.

And now, we are delving into Nietzsche's "Beyond Good and Evil" where he seems to be of the opinion that love is a trap and a barbarous one at that! The idea of self-denial and self-sacrifice is repugnant to Nietzsche. In Nietzsche's vision the "will to power" is the driving force of life: when you enter a relationship, you give nothing up. You work to gain instead.

The point of a Philosophy class is to introduce you to thoughts that are not your own and make you consider them carefully - perhaps changing or shading your own thoughts. This is not always a safe thing. You can get lost in your head so thoroughly that you can't find your way out again.

Philosophy challenges us to think about what beliefs we hold and why. Where do these ideas come from and do they have merit? In that way, and for that reason, Philosophy is an essential study for me as an American Catholic. I am beginning to see how some of the things I value are in direct opposition to what my ideals are. And these challenges to my ideals are making me reconsider not only my ideals, but my values.

What does what I do say about what I believe?

We all have Ideals and Values. What we hold as ideals are not necessarily the same as our values. For example, I have an ideal of having a clean, well-maintained house. The value is that I like to read, write and spend time with my family much more, so the house is a bit, well, slip-shod.

I am also beginning to see how our country has gotten to the place where it is in the political and social values and ideals that we embrace. Frankly, our values, do not reflect our ideals. As a culture, we hold an ideal of self-sacrifice and self-denial, but when the rubber meets the road, our culture does not value self-denial. How very Nietzschean of us.

The lack of Love that I find in the philosophers I have studied, is not actually a lack. It's more like a black hole. It would appear that, to these four thinkers, Love, like a cancer, must be cut away from us in order to free us to think and to make us happy, productive people. As we think more and more about what we believe about ourselves, our own opinions and the world around us, we learn to love ourselves more, and others less. Only through this do we find Truth.

Really? That sounds as enchanting as a rattlesnake in a rolling barrel.

I can't explain why Nietzsche thinks that self-sacrifice is unnecessary in a love relationship. I can't see how a relationship would work any other way.

When you love someone, you give things up. It's a part of the ideal of love, and if it's not a value as well, then the relationship will not last. You and your spouse will eat each other alive vying for supremacy in the will to power struggle unless someone surrenders.

And what if neither one of you surrenders? Well, neither one of you wins.

But, what if you both surrender? What happens then? Does everyone lose?

No. We fill up what the other is lacking. The things that I provide to Michael are different than the things he provides for me. We allow each other to be built up and strengthened and this in turn strengthens us as individuals.

This is Love. It is self-sacrifice. It is self-denial. It is self-knowledge. It is humility.

It is the cross.

Without the crucifixion and resurrection we are less than we could be. To look at one without the other is to miss the point of Love. Yes, the resurrection is a triumph, but without the sacrifice, it is hollow. It is an empty tomb, but also an empty show of power.

When we look upon the crucified Christ, we see the depth to which love must take us. Love will consume us, but we are not lost to ourselves by that sacrifice. Instead, in his passionate love for us, Jesus comes to us in the Eucharist and fills up what we are lacking in ourselves.

So, during this Easter season, it is important to celebrate the Risen Christ, but let's not forget that victory comes to us at a price.

Immortality and Other Second Chances

"Look toward Him and be radiant and your faces may not blush for shame.
This poor one cried out and the LORD heard and from all his distress He saved him."
Psalm 34: 6-7

This past week I received a diagnosis that I was sort of expecting. After extensive testing my doctors have discovered two nodules on my thyroid gland. We already knew it was big, but now there are nodules on it and it has to come out. The further threat is that these nodules might be cancerous. The blood work looks good, but there are other biomarkers that don't look so good.

Usually, people with overactive thyroids are given radioactive iodine to kill the thyroid and then they are monitored for new lumps and bumps over the rest of their lifetime. But not so with me. In the course of my testing, we discovered that I am very allergic to the iodine. So surgery is the only option for me.

So, out it comes!

The thyroid gland sits at the base of the throat and surrounds the windpipe. Just behind the thyroid are the vocal nerves. In order to get at the gland, they will have to cut an incision in my neck and move all the muscles aside so that they can see what they're doing. Everything is so tightly packed in there, that they don't do laparoscopic surgery. This means that for the first several weeks of recovery, my speaking voice will be hoarse. My singing voice will be out of commission for about three to four months. If it is not damaged by the surgery (and there is no cancer - please, Lord, no cancer!) I should be able to sing again by the summer.

I'm worried.
Okay, I'm terrified.

There have been times, in the depths of my depression that I have wished for some deadly disease to take me quietly. Something that I wouldn't have to explain to God. I have hated my life - and that is a very sad thing. There is so much joy in my life, but all I could see was the suffering.

And that's the dark part. But that's not the end of the story.

This is old hat, but here goes: You never appreciate what you have until you might lose it. 

I have always appreciated my voice. Maybe I've appreciated it too much, in fact. While I have been off chasing my muse, everyone else has had to stand by and wait for me. My husband put college aside for me. My children have done without me for large expanses of time. My faith is intimately connected to my voice and my ability to sing for Mass.  It is an exercise in humility for me to NOT sing (and to ignore those who sing poorly) during Mass.

So many, many times I have bristled with the idea that I could do something so much better than someone who already had the job. I have harmed friendships and careers with my ambition. And where has that left me? Busy to the point of a breakdown. Lonely, though I have many friends. And frightened that the thing on which I have built my life, (and in many respects, my faith,) is going to be taken away.

But, there is hope. There is always hope - because we have a Savior. And he is so good to us.

For me, that hope came to me while singing for the funeral of a woman who was just a little bit older than me. As I sang the familiar parts of the Requiem Mass and listened to the readings I had heard a thousand times over I was reminded of God's great generosity.

The first reading was Isaiah 25:6-7, 9:

On this mountain the LORD of hosts will provide for all peoples. On this mountain he will destroy the veil that veils all peoples, the web that is woven over all nations; he will destroy death forever. The Lord GOD will wipe away the tears from all faces; the reproach of his people he will remove from the whole earth; for the LORD has spoken. On that day it will be said: "Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us! This is the LORD for whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!"

I know that I need to trust that God has a plan for my life. I have no idea what that plan is. Maybe that's why things have rolled out the way they have over the past several weeks. There have been many new doors opened to me - and some closed, too.

I may have years left or I may die tomorrow. There is no way for me to know when I will be called. The best I can do is to live for God in the time I have - however long that time may be.

So, in the midst of all this Sturm und Drang, I found a prayer today while beta testing an app that I thought fit the bill pretty well:

Prayer Against Depression

by St. Ignatius of Loyola

O Christ Jesus

When all is darkness

And we feel our weakness and helplessness,

Give us the sense of Your Presence,

Your Love and Your Strength.

Help us to have perfect trust

In Your protecting love

And strengthening power,

So that nothing may frighten or worry us,

For, living close to You,

We shall see Your Hand,

Your Purpose, Your Will through all things.

(via Catholic Short Prayers App - http://shortprayers.valent.co/)

Finding Direction

There are times in my life when I feel very keenly that the world is unraveling quickly. I don't know if this is a function of my struggles with mental illness or if it's a real sense that time is moving past more swiftly as I age. 

As things move along, I find myself stumbling into walls of frustration and down hallways of worry. And, in my worry, I begin to go in many different directions at once. Then, suddenly, everything becomes scattered and disorganized.

Me: Are we going in the right direction?
Myself: I can't tell. Let's try another path.
Me: Is this the right way?
Myself: Maybe, but this one looks good, too.
I: Well, we can't go all three ways at once! Pick one!

It's at these moments that I find myself searching out the solace of the Mass and quiet time with the Blessed Sacrament.

Spending time alone and quiet in adoration or at least at a prayerful mass is essential to my health, both as a person, and as a Catholic. It's in those silences that I can hear the "Holy GPS Voice" telling me where the next turn should be.

There is a lovely hymn, the text of which is by Bl. John Henry Newman, that reminds me to be patient and to trust God when I can't see where I'm going.

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home,

Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.

But, in order to see the next step, I have to keep my eyes fixed on God. He is the lamp that lights the way. Sometimes I need a reminder that no matter what "noise" is going on in my life, if I keep my attention on the Blessed Sacrament, I will find my way. God will not let me fall unless I pull my hand from His like a runaway toddler.

Focus - Pray - Trust

It seems so simple, but it is so hard to do.

Lawn Chair Catechism: Session 9: Seeking and Discipleship

I was content to follow Jesus to the edge of the beach,
but not to follow him up the road to Jerusalem.

Join us at CatholicMom.com for this week's installment of Lawn Chair Catechism, based on Sherry Weddell's Forming Intentional Disciples.  

In this chapter, Weddell addresses the final two thresholds of conversion: Seeking and Discipleship. Both are active states of being, but are divided only by that final "Yes! I will follow you!" to Jesus.  Weddell discusses ways to encourage seekers to take that final step to becoming disciples such as encouraging acts of mercy and providing a variety of different types of prayer to foster that real, solid relationship that discipleship ultimately brings.

Weddell asks if we are ready to acknowledge that some leaders in our diocese or parish might not actually be disciples of Jesus. My answer to that is a big, "WELL YES!"

If you've read any of the rest of my posts in this series, you know that I was born and raised a Catholic. I came up through 12 years of the best "Catholic" education money could buy. And, yet, I left the Church at 18. Why? Because the people I encountered, who were teaching me what it was to be a disciple, had no idea what being a disciple entailed! Or maybe they did and just simply could not make themselves give in.

Following Jesus would have meant putting down their nets of tangled ideas and personal opinions on the shore, and doing things God's way. Still today, when I meet those people, I am struck by their absolute refusal to bend their necks to God's will for their lives. They prefer, instead, to buck his yoke and carry their own much heavier burdens, angry and resentful every step of the way. It makes me angry when I consider that they have passed this ideology along to me, my classmates, my friends and my family members. But ultimately, it makes me sad.

It makes me sad to the point of tears when I see them flinging their weight against immovable burdens, just like I have for so many years. Those burdens are so much easier if we allow Jesus into our lives in a very real way. And here's where the tough part comes: I have to forgive them. I have to pray for them and I have to put my own nets down and be a light to them. Much easier said than done.

I am just now, just in the past 18 months (to the day) on a journey that is taking me some place closer to Jesus. I spent my 20s and 30s learning about God. now I am learning who He is (information vs. formation). I needed that information in order to make the formation work, but, instead of getting it when I was a kid or a teen, I had to go find it myself. Like Thomas, I had to see those nail prints and put my hand in his side. I had to know before I could believe.

This is not the first time I've been invited to follow Jesus. No, far from it. But this past year and a half is the first time I followed him further than the edge of the sand on the beach. I wasn't prepared to walk that road to Jerusalem with him. I wasn't prepared to accept the small sufferings that he gave me and, instead, I made much larger, harder ones for myself. It's funny, the crosses we make for ourselves are always much heavier than the ones God gives us.

So, now, after completing two-thirds of this series, I realized I have been called. I lead a group every week in prayer. I coach them and teach them to hear and think about and pray the words they sing, but apparently, that is not enough for God. He has another idea.

A few weeks back, when we talked about Grace and The Great Commission, the combox discussion revolved around what kind of catechesis was necessary. I told the commenter that the Missionary Servants of the Word Sisters had a program that they ran in our parish that was working wonders in our Spanish-speaking community. We have increased our one Spanish Mass to three comfortably full Spanish Masses each week over the last five years. It has really lit a fire in our Spanish-speaking community!  But, those classes have never been offered in English at our Parish. After reflecting on it for the next two weeks, I realized that it needed to happen.

I didn't want to get involved, though. I'm a busy woman, after all, you know. I wanted someone else to do it. I hinted to others in the parish that it would be a great thing to do. They all nodded politely and smiled.  "Oh, please, Lord, pick someone else," I thought.

I fought God on this one tooth and nail. I was not going to leave the beach. I wanted to still have my eyes on those nets, I guess. But, you can only ignore God for so long. He keeps tapping you on the shoulder until he has your undivided attention. Finally, I knew, I was supposed to do this.  So, finally, I asked Sister and we started the ball rolling.

For me, this really is jumping off into the raging waters. I know how Peter must have felt when he hopped out of that boat to walk across the water to Jesus. But if I can just keep my eyes on Jesus, maybe I won't notice the wind and the waves.

Growing Closer to God

I find myself screening God's calls

Because it's Lent and I am lousy at giving things up, I decided to add something to my day instead.  I have been praying "the little hours" of the Divine Office.  The little hours are the times of prayer other than the big three: Morning Prayer, Evening Prayer and Night Prayer.  Also called Daytime Prayer, the little hours are short sets of Psalm readings and prayers that can be completed in about 7-10 minutes at a time.  In the Benedictine tradition, these prayers are recited at 9 AM, Noon and 3 PM and in the common vernacular are referred to as Midmorning Prayer, Midday Prayer and Midafternoon Prayer.

I have been trying to remember to pray these prayers since Ash Wednesday.  I started off really well.  For three days in a row, I missed nothing.  I set my cell phone alarm and would stop where ever I was and say my prayers.  But then, the weekend happened.  There is nothing more devastating to a schedule than fun.

Since the first weekend of Lent, I have been struggling to get back on track.  I will have good days and then there are days like today, when I turn off my alarm and think, "Oh, I'll pray as soon as I finish this one last thing."  The problem is that the "one last thing" always turns into something more involved and then I forget all about my prayers.

This brings me to my point.  I have been thinking a lot about God recently and my relationship with Him.  I have wanted, even desired, to come closer to God since Christmas.  I can feel the longing in my heart, but I still seem to be at such a distance!  During our Lenten Afternoon of Reflection, Msgr. Osborn even echoed some of my thoughts on the subject and I thought, "Yes!  That's it!"

When I am in a relationship with someone, be they a friend, a lover, a child or other family member, if I want to see them, I make time for them.  No matter what I am doing, if I can drop it, I will.  This is especially true for my husband (or in days past, my boyfriend/fiance).  Not so with God.  He has to fit in around everything else.  That's why I picked to add this Lenten devotion; to make myself more accountable to God and fit everything else in around Him and not the other way around.

Mother Angelica often refers to God as "your first love" and it is true.  Before anyone knew you had been conceived, God loved you.  He loved you so much that He gave you life!  He created you as a unique and wonderful person.  There is no one like you anywhere else in the world and he made it that way just because He loves you that much.  So, if that's true, then He should have first pick of your time and attention.  I've found that He's pretty generous, too.  I always have time for everything that needs to be done, if I have this in the right order.

When we enter into a relationship with God, he wants to be the attentive lover of our souls.  He wants to shower us with gifts.  He wants to talk with us and visit with us.  The problem with me is that, so often, I am screening His phone calls.

When God calls me, just to chat, I on the other end of the line (if I answer at all) saying,
"Mmm Hmm....
Yep.
Yeah...

"Could you not watch one hour with me?"

Oh yeah, sure...Ummmm...
You know, I'm really busy so I'll get back to you.
'K Bye!"

Am I really engaged with Him?  Am I hanging on His every word like I would if he was my boyfriend or am I rushing through the conversation so I can check "prayer" off my list?

So while I find myself wanting to come closer to God, I have busily put up walls.  "Oh, uh, sorry...This is MY time." Or "Just let me do one more thing..."  And I am finding, it's not just with God.  It's with everyone.

C.S. Lewis says in "The Weight of Glory" that the holiest thing that you will encounter on this earth (next to the Blessed Sacrament) is the person sitting next to you.  If that's true, then I have a lot of work to do in the area of honoring the Holy Presence.  I am always in a hurry to get to the next thing.  Even if that means giving the person who needs my attention "the bum's rush".

If I can put God in His rightful place in my life (The Most Important Person) then I think I will be taking a step in the proper direction.  I get the feeling that everything else flows from that relationship.

Please pray for me and I'll pray for you, too.