Immutable vs. In Motion

I have been wanting to respond to a blog post that my dear friend, Phillip del Ricci, posted some weeks ago, so I will use this, my own blog to do so. In Shattered Vows and Celibacy, Mr. del Ricci makes reference to an "immutable" church (unchallengable; unquestionable).

The truth is, immutability is not one of the "marks," or characteristics the Church claims. Rather, the creed lists the following four characteristics: "one" - it cannot be divided; "holy" - God's Spirit resides with and stimulates the Church; "catholic" - (with a small "c") meaning universal, i.e. for the whole world; and "apostolic" - it has a mission.

The Church might seem immutable, but that is because it has a such a long life (two millennia now) that it moves and changes very slowly. You might compare it to the great tortoises Charles Darwin observed on the Galapagos Islands. Or compare the lifespan of the Church to that of a human being, translating a typical 80-year human lifespan to the 2000-year span (so far) of the Church. Thus every year in a human life becomes 25 years in the life of the Church. It's like the reverse of dog-years. You know, for every year a dog ages it equals 7 years in human time. So a 10-year old dog is like a 70-year old person. Except every year of the Church equals 1/25 of a human year.

Are you following me? Think of it this way: You meet a friend you haven't seen for 5 years, and you say, "You haven't changed a bit!" In reality they have changed (if they are still alive), but you can't really tell any difference. Now for the Church a human life of 5 years becomes 125 years. No one lives that long, but if you visited the Church only once every 125 years, you would not notice much change.

But let's say you meet a friend for the first time in 20 years. The change would be obvious. In church years, that would be 500 years. If you visited the Church 500 years later, differences would be obvious, too.

My point is, the Church does change but change appears to happen very slowly since it takes more than a human lifetime for substantial change to take place. An example that proves this point is the papacy of John Paul II that lasted over 26 years. It was unusually long, and for anyone under about 30 years old, he was the only pope they knew until last April.

Yet to dispell any notion that the Church is immutable, unchallengable or even unchangable, here is a new book - Catholicism in Motion by James D. Davidson. This book limits its study to the Church in America, but its premise is that American culture has shaped what the Church looks like in this country and the Church's presence has shaped modern American culture through the years as well.

The author is a sociologist, so the book is not theological and therefore is not colored in any way by the Vatican. Davidson merely analyzes the data he has collected. He begins Chapter One by distinguishing two opposing philosophies about the Church in society. Here is briefly what he describes:

Functionalism sees the Church as an important social institution. . . (that) answers questions about the meaning and purpose of life. . . In other words, religion contributes to the well-being of society and its individual members. It is highly functional.

Conflict theorists, on the other hand, picture society as being in a constant state of disorder. The main reason. . . is that. . . there are different classes of people who are pitted against one another in a stuggle to maximize their own self-interests. . .

Conflict theory. . . proposes that religion is inconsequential in comparison to the economy and government. . . From this point of view, religion is a divisive and oppressive force in society. Its effects are more negative than positive.

He ends that section of the chapter by asking:

Which of these theories comes closest to your way of thinking about religion's role in society?

Let me know.

Catholicism In Motion reviewed by Lafayette Journal and Courier

Memory of Pope John Paul II

As we approach the end of 2005, it seems that everyone likes to take a look back at the events of the year. One that seemed to have brought the entire world together for a couple weeks early on in the year was the death of beloved Pope John Paul II. Imagine any other religious leader for whom 4 million people would come to one city in order to celebrate his or her funeral! Such was the impact that John Paul had on the world during his 26 years as leader of the Church.

Perhaps he was most popular of all among young people. He loved them and encouraged them whenever he could. His knowledge of languages ingratiated him wherever he went. Remember when he first came to the U.S. - after seeing an army recruitment poster with Uncle Sam on it, he told the crowd, "John Paul II - he wants you!"

Over the next couple of weeks are a series of television specials about his extraordinary life. Most will concentrate on his career as pope. Yet his life prior to and leading up to his election is equally important and interesting. It tells us about the events that shaped his religious thinking. Growing up in communist Poland; attempting to escape the Nazi occupation of his country; losing both his parents and his only brother to death before he was even 25 years old; studying theology in an "underground" seminary because it was illegal to do so. . . all these formed his life and shaped his way of approaching the world.

Here is a great book to learn more about his "hidden" life as a young man and a young priest. Stories of Karol: The Unknown Life of John Paul II is published by Liguori Publication. It includes great photos that help remind us that this important figure in history was a normal human being like the rest of us. Here is a short excerpt from the book describing how he got the news that was to become a bishop:

Then, one day in July, he received a telegram. Somehow they had managed to track him down at the Masuri Lakes, where he was canoeing with a group of friends. The telegram upset his comfortable lifestyle and security. They wanted to make him a bishop. He was asked to present himelf immediatley to Cardinal Wyszynski in Warsaw.

In some ways, Wyszynski had been bypassed, . . . When he had him face to face, and asked him if he would accept the post, he was struck by the younger man's readiness. In fact, Karol responded with another question: "Where do I sign?" He signed, and only then did he ask: "Now can I go back to my hike?" That is, he didn't want to leave his young people. The cardinal consented with a smile.

Giving Thanks III

This has been an exceptional year. The greatest natural disaster our country has ever seen blew through the southern Gulf states near the end of summer. Three months later the cities and the people there have not recovered yet. Hundreds of thousands have been permanently displaced because their homes and jobs were destroyed. Surely cities like New Orleans, Biloxi, and Gulfport will never be the same.

Where I live and where I will spend Thanksgiving day we were not directly affected. For that we can be grateful.

Yet there are so many people from the southern U.S., from Pakistan where they recently endured a tremendous earthquake, from the south Pacific islands swept by a huge tsunami wave last December, and those who have survived the war in Iraq - both Iraqi citizens and American soldiers and their allies - all of whom must be thankful just to be alive at this time. Each one of them is our brother or sister.

I give thanks this holiday for those people in hard-hit areas who are fortunate enough to still be with us.

O Lord, the meal is steaming before us and it smells good!
The water is clear and fresh.
We are happy and satisfied.
But now we must think of our brothers and sisters all over the world
who have nothing to eat
and only a little to drink.
Please, please give all of them
your food and your drink.
That is the most important thing!
But also give them
what they need every day,
to go through this life.
Now, and in all times,
give food and drink
to our hungry brothers and sisters.
Amen. - a prayer from Ghana

from "Hallelujah for the Day" An African Prayer Book, edited by Anthony J. Gittins, C.SS.P., Liguori Publications, 2002.

I also give thanks for the opportunities I've had this past year to help care for my ailing father because it has drawn me closer to him.

If you visit and read this blog, I invite you to leave a comment indicating where you live and what you are thankful for this holiday season. And I give thanks for you!

More Thankfulness

A traditional way to celebrate holidays is to gather with family and/or friends for a meal. Here in the U.S. we have great cookouts and picnics on the Fourth of July. Certain specialty foods have become customary on various other holidays: birthday cakes; Christmas fruitcakes and candy canes; hot-crossed buns on Good Friday. Think of the wonderful array of foods served at all Hispanic festivals and Jewish celebrations.

While particular kinds of food help us celebrate most holidays, it has always seemed to me that the Thanksgiving holiday is ABOUT food. After all, autumn is harvest time. Legend has it that the Native Americans of the time and the early Pilgrims sat down together to share their food. What would Thanksgiving be without turkey and stuffing, cranberries, yams, and pumpkin pie?

Dear God,
where do we begin to say thanks?
You have given us all that we have:
you have given us our family and friends,
the ability to run, to think, to love,
and even to say "thank you" to you.

As we gather today with special foods,
help us to remember that every day
is a day to give thanks to you.

Please bless those children of yours
who do not have as much as we do,
and help us to understand how to share
what we have with them.
Thank you again for all your gifts. Amen.

from "Amen!" Prayers for Families with Children" by Kathleen Finley, Liguori Publications, 2005.

If you visit and read this blog, I invite you to leave a comment indicating where you live and what you are thankful for this holiday season. And I give thanks for you!

Being Thankful

About a week ago on a Friday evening I had nothing special to do so I decided to go to one of the large shopping malls in the area and get some exercise by walking the length of the place on both floors and doing some window shopping. I discovered an incredible store full of Christmas ornaments. It was huge. Since I love Christmas, and for me decorating is the best part, I spent a full hour in the place. I did not buy anything (I'll try to go the week after Christmas and buy stuff at greatly reduced prices). But the evening put me into the warmth and excitement of the holiday season. In fact, I came right home and baked two batches of Christmas cookies which are now in the freezer waiting for the right holiday event!

But whoa . . . before we get to Christmas we must pause for Thanksgiving. When you think about it, these two holidays are almost the opposite of each other. Christmas is for giving and getting gifts, while Thanksgiving is for showing gratitude for what we have received. Both holidays are celebrated widely in secular society, yet both are deeply spiritual in nature for different reasons. I'd like to share a few Thanksgiving reflections with you.

"On this Thanksgiving Day, as we gather in the warmth of our families, in the mutual love and respect which we have for one another, and as we bow our heads in submission to divine Providence, let us...pray for his divine wisdom in banishing from our land any injustice or intolerance or opposition to any of our fellow Americans, whatever the color of their skins, for God made all of us, not some of us, in His image. All of us, not just some of us, are his children."
Lyndon B. Johnson (1908-1973);
From "Simple Blessings for Sacred Moments" A collection by Isabel Anders, Liguori Publications, 1998.

Of course President Johnson was in office during the height of the civil rights movement. Our country recently honored and celebrated the life of Rosa Parks, who might be called the mother of modern civil rights. The country has come a long way since she refused to give up her seat on that December day in 1955.

While I'm thankful for that, I realize that we still have such a long way to go to eliminate prejudice and discrimination toward minority people in our land - whether they be people of color who have lived here for generations, newly arrived Hispanic or Asian immigrants, our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters, or the Native American peoples who helped celebrate the very first Thanksgiving day. For as President Johnson stated, "God made all of us, not some of us, in His image."

If you visit and read this blog, I invite you to leave a comment indicating where you live and what you are thankful for this holiday season. And I give thanks for you!

Holy Eccentric

Most people we call saints were in some way a little eccentric. I do not believe that quality is necessary for holiness, but it is for getting the attention of other folks.

Last Sunday a French priest was beatified at the Vatican. His name is Charles de Foucauld. He led an interesting life and I consider him "eccentric" because it seemed that nearly everything he did, he did to extremes. He lived during the last half of the 19th century and spent most of his adult life as a hermit among Muslim tribes in the desert of Algeria. I suppose he is a saint partly because of his particular brand of spirituality through which he welcomed all people - those of all religions, and no matter what side of any war they were fighting for. He was also "martyred" somewhat accidentally by a young Muslim lad who was spooked by the appearance of two German soldiers coming for a simple visit. (You can read more about the specifics of his life by clicking on the link of his name above.)

There are a number of thoughts from his writings that I find intriguing to contemplate. They come from a book called 15 Days of Prayer with Charles de Foucauld. It is written by Michel Lafon and published by Liguori Publications. Liguori actually has a whole set of books in this 15 Days of Prayer... line. Here are a few of de Foucauld's inspiring quotes from the book.

"The eyes which I found to be the greatest, the smiles which consoled me the most, the people who captivated me the most, all of this was only but a small part of your beauty that you let me see, so that by seeing these things, I could say: that comes from God." (The Last Place)

My spiritual director is very Ignatian in her approach. One of her favorite expressions is "you know that comes from God." I like how de Foucauld describes smiles and interesting people, and sees them as gifts in his life. We tend to take those kinds of gifts for granted, even to expect them. I was just now interrupted by a phone call from a dear friend in Seattle. That was another gift -- unexpected in the middle of my workday. Without being overly pietistic (which I don't think I am), I still feel a certain warmth when I can recognize such simple gestures as little gifts intended to boost my spirits.

"Everytime I open a window or a door, I am ecstatic when I see the mountain peaks that surround me and which I oversee. It is a marvelous sight and a scene of truly beautiful solitude. How good it makes me feel in this great calm and beautiful, yet tormented and strange scene, to lift up my heart toward the Creater..." (Letters to Madame de Bondy)

I lived in Seattle for three years and from my bedroom window I could see the Olympic Mountains across Puget Sound. It was the first place I looked each morning and every time I entered the room throughout the day. It was always a special sight about this time of year when I could see those mountains newly blanketed in white snow -- we seldom got snow in the city. As I drove past the Grand Teton Mountains in Wyoming while moving back from Seattle, I happened to have a CD of the Psalms playing. Magnificent would describe those natural giants and ecstatic would describe my own feelings at the moment. Then the first year I lived in my current apartment back here in the Midwest, it lightly snowed as I was decorating my Christmas tree. That could not have been more perfect.

The beauty of nature has such an affect on me.

"We do good, not by what we say and do, but by what we are, by the grace which accompanies our actions." (Rules and Directory)

My high school creative-writing teacher repeatedly told us that in our writing we had to "show the reader, don't just tell the reader." I think that's true in everything. So many people come across as phony or hypocritical. What we say is not as important as the effect our actions have on others. St. Francis of Assisi is credited with telling his brothers, "Preach the gospel at all times; use words if necessary." By that he meant that we have to live love and goodness. Those are the ways (the grace, if you will) that will touch people most deeply and will change their lives and attitudes. We like to think we have all the answers, when in reality we have very few of the answers - especially for others.

"A single soul is worth more than the entire Holy Land, and more than all material creation combined. We must not go to a place where the land is the holiest but to a place where the souls are in the greatest of need..."

This quote makes me think of the city of New Orleans and cities all along the Gulf coast of Mississippi where so many people have been left in desparate need as a result of the hurricanes this past summer. I think of the comfort I have in my own little "holy land" versus the thousands of people whose homes have been demolished (or have to be demolished) because they were submerged in water for several weeks. Like Charles de Foucauld, my own heart reaches out to those poor souls in their tremendous need.

Plants Are Like Friends

As I have shared before, I was a biology teacher for several years. Botany is probably my favorite subject within the broader discipline of biology. I enjoy plants very much and I like to keep plants of different varieties. I have both succulents and "regular" plants.

Two of my cacti have special significance for me. One I have had for 29 years. It was a gift from a student and came from a cutting off a Christmas cactus that her grandmother had started 85 years earlier. When that 7th-grader gave me that plant, I would never have guessed that I would still have it nearly 30 years later!

The other (I confess I don't know what specific kind of cactus it is) was part of my plant collection in the house where I lived from 1993-97. Then I moved to the west coast for a year of graduate studies and got a job in Seattle for three years. I had given this cactus to some friends who obviously took better care of it than I did because it grew to monstrous proportions in their home. When I returned to the midwest five years ago, they gave me a cutting off the original plant and now it seems to be thriving on my sunporch.

Recently I added two orchids to my collection. I used to believe orchids would be rather difficult to grow, but I learned from experience that they are actually quite easy to maintain. That is a good thing because all of my plants must survive on what I call "tender, loving neglect." Unfortunately, orchids can be quite expensive. These two are still seedlings, so they were within the constraints of my budget, although I may have to wait a few years before they bloom.

Since I currently live alone and have no pets, I suppose one of the benefits plants provide is the presence of living things in my environment. All my plants have some sort of special meaning because most were gifts. And so seeing them as I walk past or whenever I take time to water them reminds me of a particular friend or an enjoyable event.

I recently came across a delightful little book by Kathleen O'Connell Chesto titled, Why are the Dandelions Weeds? (Liguori Publications, 1999). She has a relationship similar to mine with her plants. Here is what she says:

"When we first built this house, I asked all our friends to make cuttings of their plants and start them for us. I knew this was going to be a great house for plants, with all its skylights and glass, and I wanted something living to remind me of the important people in our lives.

"Today, as I dig and prune, I am aware of how much like the friends who gave them these plants are. Most of the time, it does not take a great deal of time and attention to keep friendship alive, but it does take a little consistency. Eventually, though, there needs to be some quality time together to become re-rooted in all the things that first brought the friendship to life."

Bathed in Silence and Solitude

I live in the upstairs apartment of a two-family flat. I love the place. It is directly across from the Missouri Botanical Garden, so there are no houses across the street from us. The entire block is beautifully lined with grand oak trees, sycamores, Japanese maples and a variety of evergreen trees. In my living room French-doors lead onto a small balcony above the front porch. Sometimes in good weather I like to sit out there for a few moments late at night just soaking in the quiet and the darkness before getting ready for bed.

It is a sturdy old brick building, built in the 1920's. I've outlasted two previous tenants in the downstairs apartment. I never heard a sound from either of them. But the current one . . . well, I seem to hear just about everything she does! Her music blares till all hours of the night; she cannot seem to close a door without slamming it; her cell phone conversations reverberate all up and down the basement stairway - I think she talks there because the music is too loud in her apartment. Every time I have confronted her, she has been very apologetic and responsive, but then it happens again a few days later. I recently learned that she is moving out in the next few days, and I can't wait.

I work at a very busy place. I truly enjoy the people I work with. In fact, I actually look forward to going to work each morning. I am not a morning person (not at all!), but it has become easy for me to get out from under those covers because of the folks I will be spending my time with. Yet when the workday is over and I return home, I really look forward to the peacefulness I find among the forested gardens of the neighborhood. Perhaps it's like a getaway, or a small retreat experience. It feels very much like the description a monk once made about his journey toward an isolated locale in Asia:

"Our small boat nosed its way through the bewildering succession of lakes of northern Saimaa. The farther we moved to the northeast, the wilder and emptier the country became. Tall and silent forests lined the shores of the lakes through which we were passing. Hardly any dwellings or fields were to be seen. The region is all forest, bathed in silence and solitude."
I feel like I'm going into a trance just reading that.

M. Basil Pennington is a modern-day monk. He died earlier this year from injuries received in a car accident. He wrote a lot about prayer (as you would expect from a monk, after all) and he travelled throughout the world giving lectures and teaching methods of prayer. In his book, A Place Apart: Monastic Prayer and Practice for Everyone, (Liguori Publications) Pennington says:

"One does not have to go to the heights or depths to find a place apart. . .That is the important thing, the sense of apartness. The heavenly voice said to Arsenius, the praying courtier, 'Flee, be silent, . . .' And the palace favorite made his first step toward becoming a desert father. If one note is to characterize the true monk, it is this: He is the one who has gone apart, to be in some way alone. . . gone to find silence. . ."

I know that I get recharged in silence, and that can be found only when one is apart from others. Perhaps my apartment is just that: an "apart"-ment. So when noise from downstairs interrupts the silence I seek there, it disturbs not only my peace, but it throws off my sense of well-bing and even my feelings of security. For where else can I "flee" if I cannot have what I need in my own dwelling?

Meaningful Conversation

I'm not a talker. I'm very strongly introverted. I have never been able to understand people whom I don't even know, but who speak to me in the checkout line at the grocery store. I also find myself rather boring. It is difficult for me to carry on a conversation with someone I meet, even if I've known them previously. And that can be embarrassing. Just last evening I spoke with a new member of my chorus. I have known this guy through a mutual friend for a couple of years. I told him it was good to see him, but then I had nothing else to say. It was truly awkward.

I'm not anti-social, and I very much enjoy being with people. Presence with another is enough for me. There is an intimacy in the silent presence. I once drove with a friend to Epcott Center in Orlando. He couldn't keep quiet for even a minute. And I don't mean yapping on-and-on about something. He actually started reading out-loud every traffic sign we passed because he had reached a point where he had nothing else to say. "Orlando, 50 miles." "Speed limit: 70; trucks 55." All arrows became the phrase "thataway," as in "Interstate 75 south, thataway." I was driving the car, and he was driving me crazy.

I also find it difficult to understand people with cell phones who seem to have the darn thing up to their ear at all times. I surmise that many of these folks just can't stand to be by themselves and have to be connected to someone else as much as they can. Last week I was at a restaurant with my parents. Six people were at a nearby table, three on each side. A woman in the middle of one side spent most of the meal on her phone while the other five diners apparently talked back and forth around her. How rude!

I do value meaningful conversation - highly. By that I mean conversation with substance; conversation that reveals a person's heart or is a means of learning something new and improving one's self and others. But I really can't stand drivel. What a waste. I remember an actor being interviewed by someone for TV and he refused to answer questions about the name of his pet cat or what color underwear he wore. He called those questions "inane" and not to the point. I agreed and I cheered him on.

Yet many families today are drawn apart because of all the activities the kids and the adults are over-involved in. As a result they have so little in common that they cannot carry on meaningful conversations with each other. In the "good old days" we all sat for a solid 30 to 45 minutes at the dinner table and heard about what went on in each other's day. We bonded. It has had a lasting effect on our parent-child and sibling relationships to this day. It is really too bad that modern families miss that.

Here is something that might help: Keep Talking by Maureen Treacy Lahr and Julie Pjitzinger (Liguori Publications). If you can get your family together (or even part of it) for a meal, and can turn off the television, this book provides topics on important values to let parents and kids hear what each other has to say. For example,

"Do you usually like a lot of activity around you or do you prefer a peaceful atmosphere? Why?" (That one must have been written for me. Sounds like the topic I was just expounding on!)

"Do you prefer one or two close friends or would you rather be part of a bigger group? Why?"

"If you could do just one thing to change the world, what would it be?"

You get the idea. Those questions give me something to ponder. There are 260 such lead-ins for starting conversations. I like these because they help people share their inner-selves with others. Anyone who talks with others about these kinds of topics will grow closer together by getting to know each other better.

Now that's worthwhile conversation!