Today, Ash Wednesday, begins our season of penance and fasting. My wife Suzanne has been asking, and I’ve been pushing myself, on “What I’m going to do for Lent this year”.
Yesterday, Pope Francis tweeted a suggestion:
During Lent, let us find concrete ways to overcome our indifference.
indifferencenoun in·dif·fer·ence \in-ˈdi-fərn(t)s, -f(ə-)rən(t)s\ : lack of interest in or concern about something
About what am I indifferent? Not much. I have “interest in or concern” for a lot of things, particularly in current events and issues. Perhaps a better question would be how I might be able to take more concrete action on some of these things, and lead my family in doing so.
It’d be a big step to carve out some time during Lent to do one of more of the following:
Write one of my representatives a letter – a real, bona fide letter – about an issue facing our city, state, or nation.
Make a significant and sacrificial contribution to a person or an organization that can make a substantial difference in someone’s life.
Speak up and share news and information with friends about an important current issue.
When the Spirit is compelling me to stop and talk with, or help, another person, actually take a moment and do it.
A more realistic “Day 1 First Step” for me would be to be more diligent and deliberate in keeping my “Prayer Journal” up-to-date with all of the requests for prayers that come my way and the issues and items that cross my mind to pray for, and then actually praying for them a few times each day.
That’ll be Concrete Way #1, and we’ll see where it leads me. Concrete Way #2 should make itself apparently fairly quickly.
Maybe cutting through indifference in any form will help me love other people even more… and, in turn, love Godeven more.
Yes, I’ll be doing a “Lenten thing” too: The typical give-something-up exercise of self-denial. But I hope that adding this conscious, prayerful effort to “find concrete ways to overcome [my] indifference” yields an even more fruitful Lent for me this year.
“When you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites.”
Here’s to this 40 day journey together. I hope yours is a good one!
Nice Day for a Ride, by Big Dave Diode (Flickr), Creative Commons license, some rights reserved.
I smiled this morning when I read Jon Acuff’s post, Stop trying to make “perfect decisions. I immediately thought of how I’ve been living the discernment of my perceived call to the diaconate for the last several months: step by step.
I realized early on that there wouldn’t be a golden epiphany, no bright flash from the sky with a booming voice saying, “Michael. Do this!”
Instead, there’s a decision on my part each day to spend time in prayerful conversation with God, to carefully listen and try to feel His response, and then to take a few steps each day in the direction I feel I’m being led. That might continue to lead in the direction I’m now going, or someday it might turn me right or left down some entirely different path.
Now it’s simply, “Step by step with God”.
Jon talks about being brave, and not getting stuck – no “stuck dreams”. He writes, “You can’t wait until you feel brave enough to make a decision. You can’t wait until you have a perfect plan to make a decision. You just have to make one.”
Just one decision, just one step at a time. Sometimes one decision then 3 or 4 steps. The destination might end up different a few months or years down the trail, the trail might get dark and narrow, but you still walk it one step at a time.
“If you want peace work for justice.” – Pope Paul VI
I didn’t sleep well last night. As I tried, buildings and cars in a city 20 miles from my own were being burned by the citizens.
The reaction to the announcement that Ferguson Police Officer Darren Wilson will not be charged in the shooting death of Michael Brown in August filled the airwaves, Twitter, and Facebook through the night last night. In fact – and I believe this is relevant – I’m fairly certain that more friends were posting about this than they did about election day.
How did we get here? Yes, I do believe that decades of ongoing “invisible segregation” from various angles led to a charged situation in reaction to this case. No, I don’t believe that it’s unique to our region, but it is likely amplified here due to the political and social History at play.
I also believe that the media and the 24-hour news cycle continues to play a role in inflaming the situation.
There are injustices to be righted, sure. But I couldn’t sleep because I had seen, in vivid color on the television, how far we had slipped as a society, how much loss of respect for others and for property had evaporated, and how much lack of restraint, self-control, and proper means of justice had been forgotten.
Justice? Justice under the law was announced last night for Officer Wilson. A grand jury of peers, of citizens, met for months, reviewing facts, testimony, and the letter of the law, and they made the decision that there were no charges that could or should be made against the officer.
Justice in our community was turned on its head in the same moment, though. Some with years of pent-up anger at their situations in life, and hatred toward those they perceive as keeping them there, and some who I truly believe are here to professionally incite have now taken over. A decades-old bandage has been removed, and the wound is bleeding profusely.
One tweet that I saw just before bed, in particular, is memorable and disturbs me. It read something like, “Jesus would’ve been at the front of the line of protesters.”
No, on this I beg to disagree.
The Jesus I know would have cared deeply about the situation and the people involved, but I personally believe he would’ve been tending to those injured. He may have been with the family of Michael Brown. He may have been consoling the families who own the businesses that were being destroyed by fire. I don’t think he would’ve been burning down buildings or torching police cars. The only time in Scripture I saw Him angry was in the House of God – the temple, His Father’s house – when it had been turned into a marketplace.
No, the Jesus I know might have asked the protester (remember his friend in the garden?) to “Put your sword back into its sheath” (c.f. Matthew 26:52), and then repaired the ear of the High Priest’s Servant, “…for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.” (Ibid.)
He likely would have been in the neighborhood LONG before this turned to violence in the streets, and would’ve been working to do some of what needs to be done today: Helping youth receive a better education, develop hope, and find a path out of the oppression they’re living in; Helping parents connect with resources to raise families of faith and respect; Dare I say removing some of the layers and levers of government that lead to such imposing economic realities and forceful governance? He would’ve pushed for freedom – true freedom – freedom such as we probably wouldn’t recognize anymore, in our inclination to continue to vote for whomever will legislate taking from another man and giving to us.
There is an organizing principal that has developed through the years in Catholic social teaching, dubbed “Subsidiarity”, in which I strongly believe, and that I think we need to evolve back to (gosh, that constant revolution reminds me of my PoliSci 112 days…) Subsidiarity teaches that matters ought to be handled by the smallest, lowest or least centralized competent authority. This ties back to my observation earlier about elections, but it also ties to Jesus, and faith in general.
Poverty and injustice must be solved first and foremost in hearts, then in familes and homes, on blocks within communities, within parishes and other churches, within neighborhoods. Injustice will never be defeated by a law passed by Congress, or by a state, or even by a county government. The further we have asked the government to solve our injustices, the further we have fallen, and the more polarized we have become.
I truly believe that this is the crux of the moment in History at which we stand: The final defining moment in which we must choose whether we will personally take responsibility for ourselves and our brothers, or whether we’ll delegate that responsibility to the government franchise.
This is a big part of why I feel called to the Diaconate, and I hope and pray that my application and formation process might continue. I believe strongly that I’m being called to place myself at the service of our bishop and his successors to help our pastors take Jesus – the real Jesus, the Jesus planted in our hearts and souls and bodies through the Eucharist – our very Church and parishioners – and lead us into the streets and homes and cities to bring all of our resources to bear to right years of wrongs, and to solve our problems as close to home as we possibly can. I feel that my entire life of experience and upbringing has brought me to this moment where I might be able to be a servant leader in trying to do something to right so many wrongs and help so many who are hurting. I certainly don’t even know all of the answers or all of the stops on that journey yet, but I trust that they’ll manifest themselves when it’s time, and that I’ll lead others, and they’ll lead me in the right ways.
In another related post, another friend commented that the ill-placed “Season’s Greetings” banner in Ferguson really needs to read, “Let there be peace on earth.” Yes, let there be.
Reuters image from Ferguson, November 24, 2014
If we want peace, we must work for justice, but not a co-opted political version of justice: Justice, first and foremost under the law, and then in a very deep, real way, justice in the hearts and lives of those held down by the constructs of our own society.
It starts with prayer, and then it moves on to looking for ways that YOU can help.
Often on a Monday morning (or over a weekend), I’ll spend some time considering the “Biggest Rock” I want to focus on in my work week – the biggest thing I want to accomplish, or the biggest theme or effort I want to focus on for the week.
This week, with a bunch of tactical “Big Rocks” out of the way for a week or two, I have resolved on a different type of focus for my leadership of my team this week: LOVE.
Love.
It does remind me of the moment I moved from the role of consultant to the role of manager, when I realized that my work would (or should) no longer be as much about my own accomplishments than it was about those of my team members. This is a leap for me, as I had taken great pride & joy in my work as a consultant, had handled some major accounts, and received more than my fair share of awards, accolades, and rewards for that work.
As a manager, though, I have to look through an entirely different lens. My whole work life has to stay focused on my team – helping them to see the reward in their work, get better at what they do, and do the very best that they can for our clients and our greater business.
My whole life and upbringing tell me that the best way to do this is to focus, first, on the heart of my relationship with each of them: To love them as individuals and then focus, from that foundation, on what I can do to help and nurture them as the professionals that they are.
Sometimes that means getting down in the trenches and helping with some client work – easing a burden or giving some ideas or an example. Sometimes it’s going to mean jumping onto a call to help present or defend their work with a difficult client. Sometimes it’ll mean enjoying seeing them receive well-deserved praise or rewards for what they’re doing.
The hallmark is my love for each of them as a person – the dignity and worth that they each bring to our team as individuals.
That’s my focus for the week. No big project checkboxes to check off my list this week – just one over-arching goal to get better at my love as a foundation for my relationship with my whole team.
“Leadership is not about titles, positions or flowcharts. It is about one life influencing another.” – John Maxwell
“Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” – Matthew 22:21b
Pay to the world what is the world’s, and to God what is God’s. It was a big deal for Matthew to write this, as he himself was a tax collector. Surely this moment with Christ touched him deeply, and perhaps even changed him, as it can also touch and change us today.
What is God’s?
Perhaps it’s easier to answer that question with the context of next Sunday’s Gospel, the continuation of this week’s, in which – 16 verses of Matthew after this – Jesus gives “the greatest Law,” and teaches, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind,” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
What is God’s? Your heart, your soul, your mind. Your neighbor. And love. God is love, and Love is of God.
Heart, soul, mind, neighbor, love.
If I am to LOVE God with ALL my heart, ALL my soul, ALL my mind, and love my neighbor as myself, when do I do this? When do I fail?
As a husband, if I put some desire of my own over my wife’s needs, am I truly loving my neighbor as myself?
As a physical neighbor of another homeowner, if I quickly and conveniently blow just a few of the grass clippings or the leaves over towards his yard (He’s not looking out his window, is he?) to save myself some time, am I truly loving my neighbor as myself?
If I dangerously disregard traffic laws and speed and weave through traffic to try to get to work faster, neglecting the fact that everyone around me is also trying to get somewhere safely, and I truly loving my neighbor as myself?
If I find it a little too easy to ignore or brush off those in Ferguson reminding me that there are still injustices in my own back yard, regardless of the events that precipitated that plea.
If I forget about those in prison, or in the hospital; if I fear Ebola more than I pray for those who have contracted it and those who are caring for them; if I find it too easy to drive or walk past someone asking for some spare change from my pocket because I’ve been asked and I’ve given or ignored a thousand times before, am I loving my neighbor as myself? If they go to bed tonight with pangs of hunger while I lay, comfortably and well-fed, am I?
God asks for our WHOLE hearts, our WHOLE souls, and our WHOLE minds.
I’m a husband and a father. If I prioritize my kids ABOVE my relationship with God, am I really doing them a service? If getting them to the next soccer game is more important than prioritizing leading them to Mass, to the Eucharist, to the “source and summit” of our lives as Christians and to the very presence of Jesus Christ in the world, am I doing them any favors? Am I showing them that God truly has my whole heart, soul, and mind, and setting the example for them to give Him theirs as well?
Or am I instead teaching my children to give the world what is God’s?
No, as a husband and father, MORE is asked of me. It’s more important than ever before in my life: when i was single, when I wasn’t entrusted yet with children… now it is MORE important to put my relationship with God FIRST, to give him His due FIRST, out of my time, my talents, my abilities, my physical abundance. God gave it to me, and in returning it to Him, I fulfill his command and I deepen my relationship with Him in turn.
Somehow – and I’m always surprised by this – God surprises me by giving back to me in new ways whenever I give to Him. Sometimes it’s a new grace, or a new gift. Sometimes it’s a new suffering to offer up to Him for others around me.
In giving to God what is God’s, I acknowledge the teaching of Isaiah in today’s first reading, “I have called you by your name, giving you a title, though you knew me not. I am the LORD and there is no other, there is no God besides me. It is I who arm you, though you know me not, so that toward the rising and the setting of the sun people may know that there is none besides me. I am the LORD, there is no other.” (Isaiah 45:4b-5)
In “giving the Lord glory and honor”, as in the Psalm, I do find myself “unceasingly calling to mind [my] work of faith and labor of love and endurance in hope of our Lord Jesus Christ,” as Paul wrote to the Thessalonians.
One of my favorite verses of the Old Testament reinforces this – the prophet Micah wrote, “You have been told, O mortal, what is good, and what the LORD requires of you: Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
When I do these things; when I act this way in these moments of daily life, slowly, over time, I find myself becoming more fully configured to Christ, serving in love. I find peace in giving to God all that is His, all that He has given to me. Sufferings, pains, struggles; gifts, graces, talents. Giving all. May God give us the grace to continue living out this challenge in our lives and in our world.
This morning on an early morning flight, I opened the window shade just as we started our descent to land. It was early in the morning, just as the amber glow of dawn was starting to cast a glow across the clouds to the east outside of my plane window.
As we turned to the west, I looked up and could see, clear as day, the North Star – the pole star.
As a youth, I learned of the importance of the north star to navigators of every age. The brightest star in the northern sky, its location in the sky is steady and consistent and gives a reliable point of reference from which to find your way at night.
It caused me to pause and consider whether I was being a “north star” – a steady and consistent leader – for my own team. What could I do better this week to help show each person on my team the way to success (and help ensure they remain happy, growing, and content while on the way there?)
Even if you’re not a manager, you can be a pole star for others in your life through your own example and servant leadership, or for being there to listen or to help share advice when they need it. That’s my Monday Manager challenge for this week – thinking from the position of north star this week, and anchoring my team and helping to show the way, but simultaneously trying to be a stronger light and example for my own family and friends.
For more than ten years – since I re-met my wife, started dating her, realized my vocation to marriage with her, and started a family with her – since I stopped considering what I had thought might have been a call to the Catholic priesthood, I’ve contemplated and discerned a possible call to the diaconate.
It’s important to note that that’s not a “replacement” calling – it’s an entirely different calling. The deacon is not ordained for the same sacramental realities that the priest is; and, in fact, a permanent deacon who is married has other sacramental realities that are priorities in his life as well, by virtue of the Sacrament of Marriage. The diaconate has been ill-served in recent years by our Catholic faithful perceiving it as an “other” calling than the priesthood, though – it is in line with the priesthood, but a lower order; it is charged with helping to preach the Word (in word and action), offering the prayers of the Church, serving (but not as a priest) at the altar, and leading in taking that service and call of the Word into the world.
From time to time, the whisper that I think might be a calling gets louder, or sometimes quieter. But it’s always, undeniably, there. There’s a certain fear that comes along with it – not a fear of what accepting that call might bring, but rather a fear of whether what I’m feeling and hearing is truly a call at all. The simple fear of discerning “incorrectly” is a very, very strong fear.
That said, a few weeks ago, a series of signs happened in my life (again.) First, this – a comment thread when a priest of our diocese posted a link to a study our diocese recently co-released with Benedictine University on why some Catholics stop practicing their faith, and why others remain:
That’s the first time the cat’s truly been “out of the bag”, as they say, other than with my wife.
Then, that weekend, the homily at Mass was very much about not withholding your knowledge, gifts and talents when you’re called to share them.
Then, that same weekend, this appeared in our parish bulletin:
Then, I had some intense prayer around the time of my own patronal feast, the Feast of Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, Archangels.
After discussing with my wife, we decided to attend. As it ended up, another good friend and his wife from our parish are also going. It should be a nice trip to our Cathedral (about 1 1/2 hours north) to find out more together.
I don’t know where this first step on this journey might lead. I don’t know if I’ll apply, if I’ll be accepted, if I’ll go all the way. But I know I’m saying my first “Yes” at this moment.
This Sunday’s Gospel is the Parable of the Wedding Feast. In the parable, the king continued to send messengers to invite his countrymen to the wedding feast for his son. Many repeatedly ignored the invitation. I hope that, if I’m truly being called, that I am aided by grace in knowing what to do and when. Also in the parable, when one man showed up for the feast, he was clothed inappropriately and thrown out. I pray that if I’m truly chosen, I’m able to be, and remain, clothed in grace and a life worthy of this calling.
By grace, I just recently noticed something interesting about this print that hangs just to the side of my desk in my home office.
Joseph, the dad hard at work in his shop, with his son (Jesus) playing at his feet, bears the sash over the left shoulder of his tunic – the sash of a deacon.
When we talked about the meeting with our boys at dinner last week, it was a great conversation.
The next morning, while driving somewhere in the car, our second, Matthew, said, “Dad, I think you’d be a good deacon, because you love God, you know so much about Him, and you love to pray Morning Prayer every day.”
That sums it up, I think – if this calling is real and true, I feel deeply that it’s in part because God has given me so much love, passion, and knowledge to help serve effectively: the Word, at the altar, and in the world. Such is what I know to be the service of a deacon.
Mary, ask Jesus your Son for grace and guidance for me, please.
Friends, please pray for Suzanne, the boys, and me.
If I tell you I’m going to pray for you or your intention, you should know that more than likely, in my mind’s eye, I see myself praying the Rosary on your behalf, and ultimately, within a day or two, you will be in my intentions as I am praying a daily Rosary. Today – October 7 – is a special day in our Church calendar – the Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary (also known as Our Lady of Victory), marking the victory at Lepanto, securing Europe against Turkish invaders (read about it here.)
The Rosary is my personal weapon of choice
Many non-Catholics (and many Catholics) misunderstand it, unfortunately – they see the Rosary as a prayer to Mary and a stumbling block to prayer to Christ Himself and a relationship with Him. However, to me (and to Catholics everywhere), the Rosary is Jesus’s mother’s preferred prayer tool for us to use to recall the major events of Christ’s love and ministry, and pray through her, begging for her intercession before Christ her Son on our behalf.
In the Rosary, we’re taking our needs and in turn, asking Mary, at Christ’s side, to beg of Him for our own intentions.
in·ter·ces·sion (noun) \ˌin-tər-ˈse-shən\ 1) the act of interceding 2) prayer, petition, or entreaty in favor of another
I have a few favorite Rosaries that I use in my own prayer… I still have the small, navy Rosary with tiny beads that I received for my First Communion. I also still have one with slightly larger black beads that our grade school principal Sister Mary Angelene ensured each of us had at our spot at the head table at our 8th grade graduation dinner from Holy Family School. The Rosary I keep in my pocket and use daily is one brought back from Rome by one of my grade school classmates and scouting friends, which he gave to each person in attendance at his Ordination to the Priesthood (it is the one pictured at the top of this blog post.)
Here is a bit of reflection on the Rosary from Pope Saint John Paul II, of whom it was widely known that the Rosary was one of his favorite prayers:
The rosary, though clearly Marian in character, is at heart a Christ-centered prayer. It has all the depth of the gospel message in its entirety. It is an echo of the prayer of Mary, her perennial Magnificat for the work of the redemptive Incarnation which began in her virginal womb… It can be said that the rosary is, in some sense, a prayer-commentary on the final chapter of the Vatican II Constitution Lumen Gentium, a chapter that discusses the wondrous presence of the Mother of God in the mystery of Christ and the Church” – Pope John Paul II, apostolic letter The Rosary of the Virgin Mary
Pope Benedict XVI, reflecting on today’s memorial, invited all people and families to pray the Rosary for the intentions of the Pope, for the mission of the Church, and for peace in the world, saying:
“It is as if every year Our Lady invited us to rediscover the beauty of this prayer, so simple and profound.” The Rosary, a “contemplative and Christocentric prayer, inseparable from the meditation of Sacred Scripture,” is “the prayer of the Christian who advances in the pilgrimage of faith, in the following of Jesus, preceded by Mary” – Pope Benedict XVI
Praying the Rosary in our home
In our own home, the ways and places we pray the Rosary are many – If you’re new to praying the Rosary, I would encourage you to find one or more that work for you, give it a try a few times, and work the best ones into your own personal schedule…
I pray alone, early in the morning, when I’m awake and ready for the day, and before the family wakes up. Often I’ll sit comfortably on a couch or sofa chair, sometimes I’ll kneel.
I pray alone while taking a walk during a break during the day.
We pray as a family in our living room; sometimes with a video program with reflections on the Rosary playing (the boys particularly like Father Mitch Pacwa’s Holy Land Rosary), or with one of the boys leading us in the mysteries and reflections on each.
We pray one on one, or perhaps with two of the boys at a time, at bed time, while one of them is in their room ready for bed and their roommate brother is still in the bathroom or otherwise getting ready for bed.
My wife and I pray together when the boys are gone or in bed – sometimes in the living room, sometimes in bed together.
I pray alone when I’m driving somewhere in the car – it’s great for avoiding the stresses of driving and becoming more forgiving of other drivers!
We pray as a family when we’re driving on long drives.
As we pray the Rosary, there are a few sets of reflections we can use – they are grouped into sets called the Mysteries of the Rosary. As we pray each decade (each fifth of the Rosary; each set of 10 Hail Mary prayers), we reflect on one of the Mysteries. Here are the Mysteries:
Joyful Mystery of the Rosary Monday & Saturday
The Annunciation of the Lord to Mary
The Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth
The Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ
The Presentation of our Lord in the Temple
Finding Jesus in the Temple (at age 12)
Sorrowful Mystery of the Rosary Tuesday & Friday
The Agony of Jesus in the Garden
The Scourging at the Pillar
Jesus is Crowned with Thorns
Jesus Carried the Cross
The Crucifixion of our Lord
Glorious Mystery of the Rosary Wednesday & Sunday
The Resurrection of Jesus Christ
The Ascension of Jesus to Heaven
The Descent of the Holy Ghost
The Assumption of Mary into Heaven
Mary is Crowned as Queen of Heaven and Earth
Luminous Mystery of the Rosary Thursday
The Baptism in the Jordan
The Wedding at Cana
The Proclamation of the Kingdom
The Transfiguration
The Institution of the Eucharist
There you have it – if I’m praying for you, know that it’s likely while holding your intention in my mind while praying and reflecting on the Mysteries of the Rosary.
If the Rosary isn’t yet a part of your own prayer life, I would encourage you to try it once – perhaps even today on this Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary – and see where it takes your prayer life. I’d love to hear how it goes. If you DO already actively pray the Rosary, I’d love to hear more about your own places and ways of praying it, and the impact it’s had on your life.
Lord, you will open my lips; and my mouth will proclaim your praise.
…it begins each day’s Liturgy of the Hours, and it begins the new journey of this blog on the intersection of faith, family, and life.
I am a Catholic husband and father. Work-from-home corporate manager by day; husband and daddy (to 4 boys), church organist and music director, cub scout leader, and scouting volunteer by night. I’ve run “blogs” since before they were called blogs, back to bulletin board systems in the mid-90’s and websites in the late ’90’s. This, in fact, has been an on-again, off-again project for several years, but now it’s time to make it a serious pursuit. More in the coming days.
