King of the Mountain

            In light of our early snow and frigid temperatures, my mind was a bit preoccupied when I sat to write this month’s reflection.  I decided to run with it and took myself back to a time when snow outside was pure joy to a young boy’s mind.  It did not mean icy roads or shoveling driveways or scraping windshields; rather, it was about potential school cancelation and an adventure land right there in my normally boring front yard.  On those days when the weather pattern and superintendent aligned, I would be outside with the neighborhood kids playing snow-themed games.  If the snow was particularly generous, we would have enough to make a pile of snow that would be quickly dubbed “The Mountain.”  My front yard then became the sight of a game of curious origin and implication, “King of the Mountain,” where we would establish being king by shoving everyone else off the mound into the snow below.  A king’s reign lasted only as long the defense of new attacks was successful.  As I think back and laugh about the folly of such a game, it does give me pause.  Am I still playing this game, albeit in other ways, in the motives of my life?

            As you may be aware, the Solemnity of Christ the King is coming up, and with it comes a time fit for reflection.  This feast day is not simply a pre-Advent warning for us, reminding us, like every store we visit, of how many days are left before Christmas.  No, this feast stands alone for good reason, and it gives us the chance to take stock of where Christ is in the hierarchy of our loves and priorities.  On this day, we proclaim Jesus as king of the entire universe, but it remains an open question as to if he is the king of our hearts, lives, and families.  Because of our free will and Christ’s unwillingness to control his subjects, it is still up to us to accept him as king and give proper homage to him.

            There is certainly a competing list of distractions from this laudable goal.  Who or what are the “kings” in our lives to which we give our time, attention, and resources?  Is it our achievement at work or the power and control we have over others?  What about our signs of social or economic status displayed for all, or at least our neighbors and friends, to see?  Could it be the frequency, quality, or weight of importance we give to our online and technological activities?  Perhaps the pursuits of pleasure, whether actual or distracted daydreaming, control us.  Maybe we even thrive in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction with our lives, never wanting to admit to the grace and blessings all around us.  There are many possibilities, but they all lead us to a need for radical reorientation.  It is precisely for our own good that we must make Christ the king of our hearts and homes, forsaking all other weaker and false idols.

            It is instructive, too, to notice the seemingly foreign characteristics of our proper king.  He is gentle and humble, not seeking to dominate others or gather up as much authority as he possibly can.  He leads by his example as a servant to all, especially to the least and most vulnerable among us.  He does not, like my boyish tactics during “King of the Mountain,” raise himself up by striking others down.  Instead, he is raised up in two very unique and significant ways.  First, he is lifted high on a cross, a symbol of torture and shame, complete with a sign mocking his kingly authority.  He does not allow people’s assumptions of this symbol and his method of death define his reign, though.  Transforming the visuals and meaning of this act, he makes it into something that has now become the scene of our salvation and that we revere every time we pray or come into our churches.  The second way he is raised is by his Father, three days following his death, from the darkness and silence of the tomb.  His status as “first-born of the dead” and the perpetual object of glory, honor, and worship is firmly complete.

            In conclusion, I hope that we take advantage of this upcoming solemnity.  It might mean we need to spend some time in personal reflection, having a family discussion, or a making a trip to confession.  Regardless of how we particularly need to prepare, the opportunity to do so is God’s gift to us.  May it indeed mark for us a reordering of our relationships and priorities so that Christ is the king and first-born of our hearts.         

     

Leaves of Every Shade and Color

            When people list their top reasons for living in the northern part of the country, the weather usually does not make the list.  The “permacloud” that seems to last from now until May might have something to do with it.  Still, we try to spin things in a positive light by saying things like, “I really enjoy that we see four seasons here.”  We casually leave out the fact that winter lasts disproportionately longer that the other three!  No one could deny, however, the days of sheer autumn beauty we witness each year.  We are right in the middle of this time now, and every time I experience it, I find myself simultaneously amazed at the breathtaking views and wistful that they last only a short while. 

            As I was taking a walk on just such a fall day recently, I found myself thinking about the life cycle of a leaf, how it mirrors something in our families.  During the budding phase, there is an excitement of new beginnings and life, but for most of its life, a leaf looks healthy yet unremarkably green.  It is only at the end of its life, as the chlorophyll dissipates, that a leaf exhibits its true and wonderful color.  Regrettably, we only get to enjoy the sight for relatively little time before the leaf falls to the ground. 
            Our lives, too, are filled with excitement and potential during our early days, but once we settle into a rhythm of life, most of our days are unexceptional or even monotonous.  Yet it is towards the end of our lives that time becomes precious as we reshuffle our priorities and have a final chance to show our true selves.  Like the leaves, those people keenly aware of their mortality are the ones who often manifest the most wisdom and perspective. 
            I wonder, though, if those of us stuck in our own normal hectic schedules miss the beauty and wisdom that surrounds us in our family members advanced in years.  How often do we hurry through life without taking stock of God’s grace visible in these persons, who, like the colorful leaves, will not remain with us on earth much longer?  We can certainly all think of instances and stories of the elderly who spend their final days lonely or feeling discarded by the world for a perceived lack of usefulness.  Even as a leaf can no longer provide nutrients to the tree, its color and evidence of a life well lived are gifts all their own.  How might we better honor those who, despite whatever physical or even mental ailments affect them now, have lived good, holy, and fruitful lives? 
            Certainly, the Church makes a concerted effort in this regard.  From the frequent sacramental care provided for the aged or infirm to the celebration of lengthy anniversaries of marriages, ordinations, final religious vows, or birthdays, we acknowledge the dignity of every person and the beauty of each life.  Even the care with which we pray at funerals exhibits that we are, as a Church, consistently committed to honoring those who have, as St. Paul says, “fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith.” 
​            Consequently, it is important that we take our cues from the ministry of the Church and seek to love and respect those who face the end of their earthly days.  We must appreciate the wonder of these lives as they color our world like a crisp and memorable autumn scene.  After all, it would be our loss to neglect noticing such instances of grandeur.  Their beauty foreshadows our ultimate vision of bliss and is a demonstration of the hope that we have in eternal life. 

No Room for Selfishness

       Growing up the second of four children with an older brother merely two years my senior, I saw my fair share of sibling disagreements, heated discussions, and, shall we say, altercations.  It seemed to me that my older brother was responsible for 99 percent of the problems, but I suppose my perspective skewed slightly in my favor.  Naturally, some of our spats happened out of the direct supervision of my parents, but they soon would become loud enough that one or both parents would notice and become involved.  That is when the blame game started.  The goal was a simple one: lay as much blame as possible on the other brother while avoiding a reprimand for oneself.  Readers may not be surprised to hear that a pervasive selfishness dominated these explanations to my parents, and both brothers treated the truth like Dad’s bucket of random nuts and bolts in the garage: you used something when it could help you; otherwise, it never saw the light of day.  Thinking back on these situations now, I realize how our selfishness never got us anywhere worthwhile.  In fact, it often was in the way of the very thing God designed families to share. 

       Selfishness and love are inversely proportional.  As one increases, the other necessarily decreases.  As my brother and I heaped lie upon lie, the love between us barely flickered.  The story is an illustration to me that, in families, there is no room for selfishness.  The more we succeed in banishing it from our homes and relationships, the more love is able to take root and nourish us for whatever challenges life will bring. 

       As I have grown into adulthood and matured, I have tried to limit my selfish tendencies with each passing day.  Every important milestone in family life from marriage to the birth of each of my children has forced me to reexamine the ways in which I still exhibit selfishness.  The temptation is to think I have it all figured out, but then something happens which makes me realize how much I must still progress.  The pursuit of holiness is like that.  The more we give our efforts to it, the more we humbly realize how distant a goal perfect love of God and neighbor is.  Nevertheless, we also trust ever more deeply that God’s grace will be able to one day close the gap. 

       Thinking about this interplay of love and selfishness in the scriptures, two gardens, Eden and Gethsemane, come to mind.  Adam and Eve are faced with the temptation to disobedience by eating the forbidden fruit.  They selfishly become so focused on the one thing they cannot have that they neglect to notice the abundance already given to them.  We see them struggle with the temptation for a moment, but then they submit to the serpent’s poisonous suggestions.  Then, as my brother and I would do, they blame everyone but themselves when God discovers their transgression. 

       When Jesus faces his own garden moment of temptation, it is during a quite serious time.  We see him there, slumped to the ground, sweat pouring out of him, as he contemplates the culminating moments of his earthly mission.  Death, the consequence of that first human sin, is directly before him.  In what is one of the truest moments of Jesus’ human nature, he cries out in prayer, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me.”  It is a somewhat shocking statement if we think about it.  Jesus is asking to avoid going through what he has come to do.  He is praying for an escape from his charge to die on the cross for our sins.  Yet, while Christ truly faced this temptation to selfishness, his next words are quite instructive for us as he continues, “Still, not my will but yours be done.”  He chooses love, banishes selfishness, and continues with this most daunting of tasks. 

       How then, can this apply to us in our lives as families?  I think one thing that is important to realize is that every human being, including Jesus himself, feels drawn to selfishness from time to time.  However, what we do with that temptation makes all the difference.  Had my brother and I been living more closely to the ideal of selfless love, there would not have been anything to lie about in the first place!  Love takes effort, time, and dedication.  May we trust that, after seeing the fruits of Christ’s all encompassing self-gift, being less selfish and more loving is worth all that we give to it.

A Welcoming Face

       First impressions are important.  They give us the chance to convey something to another at the outset of a relationship, and if we squander this opportunity, it can be impossible or at least take long time to get a second chance.  This month’s reflection comes from a recent and quite personal story where someone made a first impression on me.  I should say from the outset that I did clear telling this story with my wife Stephanie!  Anyway, we are expecting our third child very soon.  The temptation with the third, of course, is to assume that each child and accompanying pregnancy will be the same as the last.  This is never true, but it was certainly a surprise and even upsetting when our regular OBGYN told us that something came up and we would need to go see a specialist OB.  Time went slowly then, and it felt like a long time before we actually were setting foot in the specialist’s office.  Many things were going through my mind that morning, but one strange thought kept surfacing for me: this receptionist has a really hard job!
       The first realization I had about this was walking up to the receptionist’s window with my wife.  My grimaced face must have looked like I had just drunk some sour milk because the lovely receptionist seemed to pause, give me time, and then smile gently towards me.  It was only then that I realized I was not exactly projecting excitement in being there!  The tricky thing for the receptionist, though, was that she welcomed patients who were coming to see either a regular OBGYN or the prenatal specialist.  The former group likely came in happy to be there, ready for some ultrasonic pictures of their little one or perhaps the big reveal as to whether a girl or boy was on the way.  The latter group, those coming to see the specialist, would not be projecting the same feelings as the first.  Their appearances were likely much more apprehensive, fearful, and uncertain.  I found myself drawn towards watching the patients arrive to the waiting room and trying to ascertain the group to which each person belonged.  The receptionist had to be ready to welcome all sorts of people, including some who would rather be anywhere else than this office.
       Mercifully, this was a one-time trip for our family, but I could not stop thinking about the experience in the days that followed.  This office reminded me, in many ways, of the Catholic Church.  Some people arrive at our parish doors excited to be there, hungry to deepen their faith and find solace for the week’s troubles.  Others arrive, perhaps feeling forced to come due to some familial obligation.  We see this situation most often surrounding events such as weddings, funeral Masses, or other sacramental moments.  Sometimes, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for us, as representatives of the Catholic Church, to make a good first impression.  Hospitality is a mark of godliness throughout Sacred Scripture, but it does beg the question: how do we, as a worshiping community, show hospitality to the sinner, the broken, the bereaved, the un-churched, the skeptic, and to the ones we have wounded?  It seems important to me that we think about these questions before making our first impressions so that we might share the Good News by how we welcome others.
       At some point in our lives, each of us has probably been part of the group who does not want to be in a church for a variety of reasons, and we certainly all have family members or friends who have stepped away from an active practice of their faith.  What might the receptionist’s demeanor teach us about welcoming those who come through our parish doors or even simply know us from work or our neighborhoods?  One thing this particular receptionist was very skilled at was reading people’s faces and demeanor but also realizing that there was a greater, sometimes unknowable mystery within the person.  Knowing this, I would say it is important to pray to the Holy Spirit for guidance when making a first impression on behalf of the Church.  What we say or refrain from saying, do or avoid doing could be critical in helping someone find the deeper relationship with God for which we all long.  Overall, I think the Church does a wonderful job of welcoming others, but we can always reexamine our personal part to play in this.  Being the voice, the hands, and the face of Christ to others is a real part of each of our vocations, and we must be conscious of our first impressions so that the Body of Christ might one day count all of humanity as its members and have all of its members reunited. 

The Phone Call

       Have you ever received a phone call at 3 a.m.?  You feel your heart racing and your breath quicken, knowing that news at this hour is almost never the good kind.  Groggily, you try to clear your head and take an extra ring to look at the Caller ID and brace yourself for whatever you are going to hear.  It is not a question of “if” but “when” each of us will receive such a phone call.  The pressing questions that do remain are: how do we live in anticipation of such inevitable events, and how do we respond when they interrupt our lives?

       Having lived a significant distance from my family for a decade, I have learned that some of my most tragic news will come to me over the phone.  For a time, I found myself dreading what I termed “the phone call.”  I remember my sophomore year at Notre Dame when my father left me a voicemail that consisted simply of “Daniel, call me.”  The problem and source of my anxiety was, however, that I could tell from his voice that he had been crying.  Thinking of the worst possible scenarios and with hands wavering, I returned his call.  You can imagine my slight relief when he told me that our family dog had died.  Now, please do not misunderstand me. “Lucky” was a great dog.  But considering I thought my mother or one of my siblings had passed away, I was really thankful.  I also gave my dad some instructions to at least let me know a bit more information the next time he left me a message like that!

       Whether our loved ones are next door or halfway around the world, there is no escaping the suffering that is part of our lot in this life.  Our choice is to respond with either fear or hope.  Fear leaves us debilitated in the face of unavoidable suffering and already depleted when the hardship arrives.  It robs us of our confidence in God, who promises companionship during hard times and who has, through the death of Jesus, experienced suffering in a very real way.  We must instead strive to remain people of hope.

       Of course, this hope does not come from self-confidence, temporal power, monetary wealth, government programs, or even from our loving families.  The source of our hope, as Catholic Christians, comes from a single, everlasting source: the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ.  After all, why else are we practicing our faith in the first place?  There are lots of other places where we could find community, education, and social activities.  Going to church regularly and taking part in the sacraments is not even the societal or cultural expectation it once was.  We come, at the very foundation of things, because of our hope in the Resurrection.  By following the Lord in this life, we follow him to the glory of eternal happiness.  So no matter when “the phone call” arrives or what news it brings, remember one thing: nothing can take away our hope. 

Summertime Tips

       Ah, summertime!  That span of a few months when our families take a break from our normal routines and fill our days with vacations, swimming pools, and trips to the ball fields.  Of course, these new activities require some good tips to keep everyone safe and happy.  I remember some of my mother’s best advice as I woke up the first morning of summer and was happy to be anywhere but school: “Be sure to leave the sunscreen in the cabinet when you go to the pool.”  “You only need to wear a baseball hat when you go ride your bike.”  “Shooting Roman candles at your brother will be a great way to celebrate the Fourth of July.”  Wait, did I hear that right?  Maybe I should call her and double-check…

       Here’s another piece of bad advice for your family this summer: “Go ahead and take a break from Sunday Mass for a few months.”  We know from our faith that Mass is important, but is it not curious how we sometimes give into the temptation of relegating Sunday Mass to a school-year or even less frequent activity?  Perhaps this summer and coming year might be different if we understood what we will be missing.

       Our weekly prayer time with God, celebrating the Day of Resurrection at the Saturday Vigil or any time on Sunday is at the core of who we are as Catholic-Christians.  It stems from our Judeo-Christian roots in that the Jews were commanded to keep their Sabbath holy.  God does not need us to come to Mass every week; rather, we deteriorate spiritually without doing so.  Think what might happen if we neglected a core need of our bodies, even for just a week.  Has anyone tried not eating or drinking for an entire week?  How about not getting any sleep for seven days or walking outside in a blizzard wearing a bathing suit?  We would hardly do these things to ourselves, and yet, we tragically starve our souls when we come to Mass only when it is convenient.  Of course, the Church is not unreasonable.  There are legitimate reasons why someone cannot get to Mass on a particular weekend, but they must be truly serious and not something minor.

       Thus, I offer you three tips to help keep Sunday Mass part of your family routine this summer and beyond:

1. Plan it first.  It is amazing how busy our lives can be, regardless of the time of year.  If we plan when we are going to Mass first, it helps us organize the rest of our weekend activities.  The temptation of having so many Mass options in some of our parishes and communities is that we assume there will always be a possible time to go.  We must avoid this trap and be intentional about Mass before the weekend even arrives.

2. List our family’s priorities.  What are the most important things that we should do and concern ourselves with during the week?  I will give you a hint on the first one—it is our faith and relationship with God.  Everything else we have and care about comes from God in the first place, so it benefits us to keep other relationships, activities, and priorities in proper perspective.

3. Change our viewpoint.  If we only see going to Mass as an obligation, it will become an inconvenience, a burden, even a chore.  It is not about bringing home the bulletin to prove we went!  To appreciate and even anticipate Sunday Mass, we must move from obligation to opportunity of faith, from the task of having to go to the privilege of getting to go, from one more thing to do to the most important thing we do all week.

       I do wish your families a safe, happy, and restful summer.  I also hope to see you at Mass in our shared Eucharist wherever you are in the world.  Remember, coming to Mass is essential for our well being.  It is about reconnecting with God, reconciling our sinful ways with his mercy, listening to the divinely inspired Word, worshiping with our family, the Body of Christ, and oftentimes, being nourished at the table of the Eucharist.  I leave you with one last piece of advice from our Mother Church that gives hope to all of us who have fallen short of the ideal, “If at first you don’t succeed, seek God’s mercy in confession, and try, try again!”

Important Days

       “Today is the most important day of your life.”  If you have ever heard these words, you were likely already aware that something significant was happening.  For many, this might be a wedding or ordination day.  For others, there may be some other momentous event that changed the course of their lives for years to come.  We properly mark and remember days like this from year to year, and the same is true for us in the Church.  We have been celebrating many special days at lately in the Easter season, and it gives us a chance to reflect.  What is or will be the most important day of my life?  The interesting thing is that it may be a day you do not even remember!

       How could that be?  I am talking about the day of your baptism, and I would posit that it was the most important day of your life, not necessarily because of your experience of it, but because of its effects.  For us as Catholic-Christians, no other day so significantly influences our lives and eternal destinies.  Even if we do not remember it, we recall it every time we enter a church and sign ourselves with holy water.  During the Easter season, we also renew the vows of our baptism and then are sprinkled with water once again.  Finally, the Church long-remembers our baptism, keeping permanent records of it in the parish where it happened.  If a particular parish closes, the baptismal records are even transferred to another parish.

       Some of us possess the grace of being able to remember our baptism, especially those who come into the Church as catechumens through the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults.  This past Easter Vigil, the most important liturgy of the liturgical year, we welcomed many adults, teens, and children into the baptismal waters, and it was inspiring for all to witness this event.  I teach the children going through the process, and in an effort to instill anticipation and excitement in them for the day of their baptism, I indeed tell each of them, “Today is the most important day of your life.”

       There are, of course, other principal days of our lives, and this reflection is not an effort to diminish them.  But all those days are colored a bit differently because of our baptismal call.  We have, as the People of God, joined in the joyous celebration of other sacraments this Easter season from First Communions to Confirmations, and these also are days worth remembering.  We thank God for the grace of these important days and ask for the clarity to recognize the truly significant moments in our lives.  May this Easter season help us recommit ourselves to the promises of our holy baptism, that we may one day be united with God in the perpetual bliss of heaven.