Shaping My Heart

I have decided to reproduce here the post from one year ago, May 19, 2011. I am doing this because I am lazy. But more importantly, I find that these words still have value. In fact, if I wrote something now, it might very well turn out to sound much like this. O sheesh, it seems that I just write the same things over and over again. Yes, I am inclined to repeat things, to ponder out loud (as all my dear students know well - and many of you would take a little siesta during my lectures, because you knew that you weren't going to "miss anything that would be on the TEST"). 

Perhaps I feel like I need to hear the same things every day, because I don't really understand them--or rather, I understand them with my mind, but they have not yet shaped my heart. I have my desire for God, and my weakness, and the inclination toward discouragement that I must fight every day. But Jesus is present, and He is drawing me to Himself and winning my soul with the love and mercy that He gives to me now. As I read the words below after one year, I do find that perhaps I understand a little more; perhaps I have grown in my heart.

But I do not set myself up as the judge of such things. What really matters is Him. I begin to know myself in the measure in which I grasp that I belong to Him right now. This recognition generates the real possibility to love everything, because every circumstance and every person are His invitation to my freedom, to give myself to Him. The whole world, and the whole of this day, are full of His grace, calling me to discover Him and to love Him, and creating in me the capacity to embrace Him and thus enter into the true meaning of myself and of reality. I belong to Him, and it is through life that He carries out the work of shaping my heart according to His heart.

Well, it seems I've written a post after all. Something conquered my laziness. Still, here are my thoughts from a year ago:

It's easy to fall into the tendency to think of "Christianity" as merely a worldview, or a collection of ideas that explain the universe and direct us regarding what we should do. It's easy to act as if Christianity is primarily an intellectual system that has to be expounded and defended in competition with other intellectual systems. In fact, it's easy to go through the day reading about Christianity and writing about Christianity and talking about Christianity--all the while seeming to forget the reality that makes it worthwhile:

Jesus Christ.

How do I live so much of my life without an awareness of Him? Why does my heart not converse more with Him? O sure, I "pray"--but it's like I'm an official making a report to my boss from time to time. Or even if I speak with Him in sugary, "personal" terms, so much of it is still a game of dodge and duck, an effort to "love" Him but still keep Him at arms length. Which, of course, is the way I interact with the human persons who are important in my life. Please don't enter the fear zone.

But He said, "Do not be afraid."

How seldom do I just enjoy being with Him. Of course I have to attend to the many tasks of life. But He is with me, and He is inside of those little things. I feel as though I say morning prayer and then leave Him there on the wall. Why do I try to leave Him behind?

Sometimes I will turn to Him during the day, even with great intensity...when I need something! "Jesus, give me...." I suppose there is something childlike in this; I tease my own children about it, telling them that they seem to think my name is "Daddy Can I."

So what's the problem? I love Him. Of course I do. But I take Him for granted. And I am a little...afraid.

"Fear is useless. What is needed is trust."

I know. But I am still afraid. Why? I'm afraid that I can't measure up to Him. Of course I can't. I'm also afraid to let Him do what He wills with me. Lord let me see that what You want for me is for my happiness. It's the only thing that can make me happy.

I want to love You more, Jesus. I want to trust in You more. I want to live my life as a relationship with You.

"Lord, you know that I love you." Under all the junk and the forgetfulness and the fear, I love you. Jesus I love you. Jesus I trust in You. Have mercy on me. Deepen my trust.

Wasting Time, Every Day

Making good use of time requires discipline.

It is a particular challenge, however, for anyone who does "mental work." It is difficult because we are surrounded by superficial thinking that comes to us in glittering packages of "information." It can't be denied that the technological vortex of television and the internet creates an environment that makes it so easy to indulge in a dissipating curiosity. Those of us who work regularly with these resources--either professionally or as an apostolate, or both--know how great a challenge this is. It is a daily struggle.

And, almost always, it is a daily failure.

I am a teacher, a writer, and (God help me) an "intellectual." That last category is dangerous, amorphous, and very fuzzy. Beware of the intellectuals! And beware especially of the "Catholic intellectuals"! We are the Scribes and Pharisees. We love to scrub the outside of the cup and leave the inside dirty. We devote all our wits and all our education to scrubbing the outside of the cup, because we don't want it to be known that we've got as much dirt on us as everybody else. We are hypocrites.

I am a hypocrite.

Needless to say, by openly admitting this fact, I am hoping from the inside of my dirty cup that you will look at me and say, "Well he admits it. He's better than the rest of them. He's humble." Haha, don't be fooled. The human heart is a tricksy little schemer.

And I could continue down this self-deprecating path, with the desire that you will respond with comments of reassurance and applause. It's true that with me this is a bit pathological. But who doesn't seek approval? Who doesn't want to be "liked" (both really and virtually)? I certainly do. Please, applaud! Make me feel good about myself! My mangled and mixed motives are part of what keeps me moving along.

Oh, the human animal! This little thing, practically crawling on the ground, that aspires to be the center of the universe. At the same time, there is a grandeur about this small being who cries out, "What does it all mean?" We are full of contradictions, and we make a mess everywhere we go! But then, we are also full of surprises.

At a certain point we all need to just have a good laugh at ourselves.

"Intellectuals" need to laugh at themselves a lot. Certain distractions are good for them. For example, food. Personally, I recommend having a five year old daughter hanging around your neck all day. That's an excellent distraction. But really, we also need time to concentrate. We need to focus. We need to think.

After all, Jesus didn't condemn the intellectuals for thinking. He condemned them for exalting themselves (see Matthew 23:12). He condemned them for being dissipated, preoccupied with the surface of things, with wealth, honor, and reputation. He didn't tell them to stop cleaning cups. He told them to clean the inside first (Matthew 26:26). He told them to focus their attention on the essentials (see 26:23).

One member of the intelligentsia actually evoked the approval of Jesus (see Mark 12:28-34). There was the scribe who asked Jesus, "what is the greatest commandment?" He was aiming at the heart of the matter. He also asked Jesus. Then he listened to what Jesus had to say. Jesus taught him that the heart of the law is the love of God above all, and the love of neighbor as yourself. The scribe received this teaching with the enthusiasm of a discovery. Indeed, he said, this love "is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices" (Mark 12:33).

This scribe began with a question, with wonder, with the desire to understand. He brought all his learning and training and experience to that particular moment, not to show himself off, but to focus his attention on a Person whom he recognized as having the truth.

And "when Jesus saw that he answered with understanding, He said to him, 'You are not far from the kingdom of God'" (Mark 12:34).

Now there are some very useful words of encouragement.

To make good use of our time, we need to be focused. We also need to know what deserves our focus. The kind of intellectuals we need in this world are ones who seek understanding of the truth so that they might grow in love for reality. We need people who are educated to an attentiveness that enables them to "do God's will," to give themselves and communicate the joy of seeking and discovering the truth to those they encounter in the course of their lives. And, of course, to love God above all.

I want to be that kind of person. The only way for anyone to use time well, is to use it in order to love. And this means loving rightly, giving ourselves to the persons and within the "places" where we are called to real love. Let us not forget that we live in a culture in which "love" has become a buzzword for self-indulgence and dissipation.

And as a "Catholic intellectual," I am an expert at that special rationalizing trick that is used to justify wasting time with worthless "information" -- saying to myself that I need to know what's going on in the world so that I can form judgments and help others understand these things, because that's my vocation. There is some truth to that (the best self-deceptions always have an element of truth to them). But does it justify giving time to reading what really amounts to the gossip of the global village?

For me, its easy to neglect professional research and writing in order to read about the latest scandal between X and Y. I have to ask myself questions and make judgments: "Why am I reading this? What do I really need to know about this? What can I know, really?" We all need to be honest and admit that there is a little gossip monster inside of us. I rarely spread gossip, but I do indulge in "self-gossip," wherein I entertain suspicions about someone and jump to conclusions, allowing superficial details and the tinge of the media to lead me into a (rash) judgment about X and Y and their scandal. The fact is that people have a right to their good reputation even in my own mind! In these matters which are none of my business, I should be seeking as much as possible to preserve their reputation in my own mind.

But instead, I conclude that "X is a creep!" Have I accomplished something here? Am I really "living my vocation," or am I just indulging the old desire to affirm my insecure ego at someone else's expense? Or am I just seeking that weird excitement that people seem to get from the odd spectacle of watching another human being go to pieces? The creepiness of X is relieving my boredom! That's the dirty truth about how I'm really spending my time. Of course, I'll probably spin a theory about what has led X to become such a creep, so that I can clothe the whole business with some sort of intellectual respectability.

But do I have any concrete authority over X? Do I have any possibility of offering him correction and help? Do I love X? If he really is a creep, am I willing to enter into solidarity with him and bear the burden (in some way) of his creepiness? (For this is the disposition of heart that should accompany any expression such as, "I'm praying for him.") I should cultivate such a willingness, especially in a world that forces us to confront the lurid details of the wreckage of so many human lives. I should really pray for them.

But most of this is mental garbage. Perhaps others have the responsibility, as observers of contemporary events, to look at all this stuff and venture a provisional (and charitable) assessment of what might be going on. But that is not my vocation. I have a great responsibility to keep an eagle's eye on the behavior of people for whom I am responsible (and that means above all the five little people who are right under my nose). That is my responsibility, along with taking care of my health, and using the charism that I have been given to help others grow in understanding and love, taking good care to form myself toward this end.

How could there be so much time for the scandals of X and Y? It means that something, or someone, is being neglected.

What can I do, besides get up every morning, pray to God for His grace, renew my firm intention, try to recall it during the day, and then beg God's mercy at night for all my mistakes? And then get up again the next day....

But wait...there's more. There's Jesus. He is the difference. He is present. And to make sure that I do not entirely neglect Him, He instituted the sacraments. He is working His miracles, slowly, in the midst of my messy life. He heals me, He forgives my sins, He unites Himself with my life. And I find that I am surprised, and changed beyond anything I could hope to accomplish myself. All in His time.

His time may seem slow, but it is never wasted.

Real Contact With Him

"More than in other dimensions of our existence
it is in prayer that we experience
our weakness and our poverty,
being creatures before the omnipotence of God....

When we feel that God is far away,
that we do not have words
to communicate with Him,
this absence of words
and the desire
to enter into communication with God
is prayer,
which through the Holy Spirit
becomes a real contact with Him."

--Benedict XVI, General Audience, May 16, 2012

Blessed Chiara Badano Teaches Us About Love

Blessed Chiara Badano, in hospital (1989)

I pray often every day to Blessed Chiara Badano (whom I have spoken about in previous posts - for more information about her, see her website http://www.chiaraluce.org/). I entrust my family to her intercession, my daughters especially. I ask her to pray for me to grow in love, for that wildly impossible possibility that I might have some small aspiration to love Jesus the way she did. I ask her to pray for me to embrace my own sufferings, and to be willing to sacrifice for Jesus in the little things throughout the day.

I got this thought for the beginning of the week from her Facebook page (you can "like" her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/chiaralucebadano):

"Whoever loves does not see obstacles."

I have pondered these words, feeling--as usual--rather overwhelmed. I "see obstacles" all the time. I am an expert on obstacles. One thing this tells me is that I don't love much. But I already knew that.

Still, there is another kind of "obstacle" that frustrates me and absorbs my attention: the constraints of my circumstances that keep me from doing what I want to accomplish. There is always the temptation to feel worthless, to give in to discouragement, and to allow oneself to dissipate. All I have to do is look at our worn furniture, or the tired face of my wife who has to work much harder than she should, and I hear a voice that says, "You are a failure. You are a bad husband and father."

The voice of discouragement gains some power from the element of truth it contains. Being ill or in other constraining circumstances does not stop one from being selfish, indolent, inattentive, and lacking in love. And one must work to regain the measure of heath that one can, not only for oneself but for one's family, and for others who need the contribution of one's professional and social life.

But these thoughts are a negative force--an oppression of the soul--that we all experience in various ways. We experience afflictions and other obstacles to so many things that we want to do. But these are not obstacles for love. No confinement, whether physical or mental, can prevent us from offering the depths of ourselves to God.

The "work" that expresses our true value is abandonment to the will of God. God wants to manifest His love through us, and no circumstance is an obstacle for Him. Every circumstance is constructive, if we let Him accomplish the work of love in us. He is Jesus. And Jesus has embraced everything.

Blessed Chiara knew this. Pray for us, Blessed Chiara, that we might live with eyes of faith and love, so as to see in all things the goodness and wisdom of God.

The Time Of The Person

For several weeks prior to his visit to Washington D.C., where he was awarded an honorary doctorate from the Catholic University of America, Fr. Julian Carron proposed for our consideration a reflection that centered upon this text of Msgr. Giussani:


"When in fact the grip
of a hostile society tightens around us
to the point of threatening
the vivacity of our expression
and when a cultural and social hegemony
tends to penetrate the heart,
stirring up our already natural uncertainties,
then
the time of the person has come"
(Luigi Giussani).

This is a stirring text, but if we really understand it, then it becomes clear that it is far from a natural intuition. I know what my own instincts are in the face of "the grip of a hostile society" - I would think that it is the time to run and hide or perhaps (and more nobly) the time to stand and fight.

My inclination is to think fundamentally of what has to be done, whereas Giussani is proposing that the crucial factor is to be a "someone". The first necessity in the face of a society that increasingly aims at the disintegration of the human person, is to be a human person.

But what does it mean, to "be a person"?

It is a sign of the times that in the dominant culture there is no clear answer to this question. There is a kind of broad intuition of the fundamental importance of "the dignity of the human person," but when people try to live this intuition in the midst of our culture, they find that it becomes complex and even contradictory. It becomes a source of violence, as our culture affirms the "rights" of some persons against others, and defines away the personhood of the vulnerable and weak.

In our time, even the term "person" has become an instrument of power, a pretext for individuals, peoples, and nations to make war against one another.

Certainly, we must work to introduce into public discourse and to defend in various ways a true understanding of the dignity of every human person. But what will give effectiveness to this or any other kind of activity? We must be persons. But do we even know what this means?

Msgr. Giussani says that what is essential to living as a person is self-awareness. Here, again, we have what seems to be an ambivalent term in our culture. A genuine self-awareness is crucial here, and that means living the truth of the human heart and its relationship to the transcendent Mystery; it means an awareness that my identity consists in belonging to an Other.

This awareness begins in the heart, and it involves what Msgr. Giussani calls a battle: "the battle between the claimed affirmation of self as the criterion of the dynamic of living and the acknowledgment of this mysterious and penetrating Presence." Do I belong to myself as the absolute and autonomous arbiter of my own existence and meaning, or do I belong to God, who creates and sustains me in being and who is present as the source and goal of my life, the One who gives "meaning" to the search of my heart?

This is the challenge for each one of us. This is the fundamental battle that each of us must fight: to live with an authentic self-awareness, to be present in the world as a person, as someone who is aware that he or she really, concretely, belongs to God. The love of God is the foundation of my identity.

As Fr. Carron summarizes:

"This is the battle needed among us,
in us, in each of us:
whether we place our consistence
in something created by us,
in an ultimate affirmation of ourselves,
of an image of ours,
of a project of ours,
of an attempt of ours,
with all its insubstantiality,
or in the acknowledgment of this Presence"
(Julian Carron).

So why do Msgr. Giussani and Fr. Carron and the ecclesial movement Communion and Liberation always use such complicated language? Why not just say, "I belong to God"?

It is too easy, however, to say these words and forget what they mean. It is too easy to say, "O God, I belong to You" in my prayer in the morning, and then go through the day living as if God does not exist--as if the measure of the meaning of my life is my own ideas, my own projects, my own power. I forget who I really am. I cease to live from the energy of being a created person.

Thus, I cannot help being confused and enfeebled, even in my efforts to "do good"!

The language is detailed and intricate, because it is an invitation to work on grasping the meaning of these things, to work on the formation of our reason, and to give direction to the heart. This work is worth the effort. We are invited to find in this work sustenance for this fundamental and daily battle.

And in this environment, which grows ever more hostile, each of us must recognize that the time of the person has come.

Mother's Day: Parents And The Seeds of Goodness

We had a lovely Mother's Day.

The children cooked the dinner and prepared the dessert. As usual (with some prodding and some supervision) they displayed their remarkable competence.

Mommy (Eileen) got the Mother's Day present of her dreams: a Washington Capitals sweatshirt! Wow, those things are expensive. Thank goodness for Ebay. The shirt did a little to dispel the gloom that still lingered from last night's game seven loss to the New York Rangers in the playoffs.

My parents also made the trip out from Arlington. My own mother's health is poor, and its easier for her to come here with my father than to attempt to host our brood in their apartment. We are all grateful that she is still well enough to make the trip.

I owe my parents so much through all these many years. I have begun to realize how much I take their presence in my life for granted, and how unimaginable it is for me to be without them. As you approach the age of 50, if you are still blessed with living parents, you finally begin to realize how basic has been their companionship of your life, through many years and circumstances, even if you live far away from them.

All of us make mistakes as parents, but I think that if we pray and struggle every day to love our children, the good that we give them is what will take root and endure. We must not underestimate the power of the good, even in small things. Parents and children must not brood over failures (real or perceived), but must persevere in living this relationship that will never end.

Even children who are estranged at present may yet return. We can also hope that the lives they live now, however confused, are still mysteriously directed by the seeds of goodness that have been sown.

I like to tell this story about how my mother had a profound influence on me as a little child, probably without even realizing it. When I was four years old (that was 1967), I was with my mother and she was folding laundry and talking away about the Pope and this "Council" and the problems that came, and then this "peasant" who was also a "philosopher" who was defending the Church (she was reading Jacques Maritain's The Peasant of the Garonne). And something awoke within me that still moves me to this day: the possibility of knowing the truth.

The experience has remained with me. I awoke to the awareness of a great, wide world--a world of earth and heaven, time and eternity, a world where there were things that really mattered. I had a primitive but fundamental intuition that life was the bearer of some transcendent meaning. I think that this was the spark that began my life's work.

It just shows that its never too early to let your kids see your passion for the truth.

Alex Has Kittens!!!

There she is! The proud Mama and her four baby kittens.

Alex had kittens on Thursday afternoon. She gave us no special warning of the imminent event. We knew she had been hanging around with some of the local cats. We also noticed that she had gained some weight.

But then, suddenly, there she was, in the flower box, with two kittens. The girls were so excited. Eileen wasn't here, and I am quite allergic to cats (as I explained in a previous post). So we waited and watched, and then she began to give birth again. That was quite an amazing thing. I had of course seen five live human births (yes, I have "seen" them all...no jokes please, ladies). But I had never seen any (other) animal give birth except on nature videos and on the All Creatures Great and Small BBC series.

Alex was a real trooper, doing it all by herself. No "mid-cat" to help. She just pushed that little guy out, licked him up a bit, and he immediately joined the scramble for the milk. Then she had another kitten about an hour later. By then, we had turned a box into a nice little cat birthing room. Alex was pretty exhausted by then, while the kittens continued to have at the milk.

By the next morning, however, Alex seemed like her old spritely self again, and was even willing to leave the box and run around a bit. The kittens got some direct attention from my girls, and many photographs:

I am told there are two males and two females, although I have not personally verified that assessment. All I can do is peek at them from a distance. But the girls got to pick them up and cuddle them (Josefina was strictly instructed not to squeeze them).

John Paul has been very interested too, but not with all the thrill and flutter of the girls. He is actually capable of spending some of his waking moments away from the kittens. It has been interesting for all of us, and for the girls it is wonderful and surprising adventure.

I am told that we are going to keep one of the kittens, and give the other three away. Somehow this whole thing since last summer has gone from "our neighbor getting a cat," to "us getting a cat with our neighbor" (to help deal with the mouse population), to "us getting a cat, that would live completely outdoors," to "Alex the kitten," to a "cat apartment being set up in the second bathroom, for cold nights," to, PRESTO, five cats. Needless to say, I never use the second bathroom anymore.

But we don't intend to get into the breeding business, which means that Alex (and whatever kitten we keep) will have to make an appointment with "Mr. Herriot" soon, to have their business taken care of.

Meanwhile this has been great for the children. They've always loved animals, and I'm glad that my allergies are not preventing them from having a hands on experience with them.

And I must say, we haven't been bothered by any mice this year.

The Strength to Give Ourselves

I must remember every day that God loves me. This is difficult, or at least it seems difficult, for a person with the limitations of physical and especially mental illness. There is a daily struggle to break out of self-absorption.

Living with life-restricting physical and mental illness, however, has also made me sensitive to how much this is a problem for everyone. We all have suffering, and most of us don't have a very good "handle" on it. And even the healthiest people have heads full of junk; junk accumulated from incomprehensible painful experiences, from the betrayal or simply the failure of other persons, from the basic distortion of their relationship to reality that everyone has thanks to the heritage of original sin, from their own sins and self-centeredness.

Add to that the pervasive assault of the distracted and restless environment in which they live, the physical and moral oppressiveness of its inexorable stress, and even the biological toxins from the food they eat and the air they breathe that sap their vitality and engender nervous tension and emotional imbalances of every kind.

That's just "normal people."

Throw in a few genetically and/or environmentally triggered neurological disorders, or a chronic infection or an autoimmune disorder or any kind of disability--along with all the misunderstanding from others that these things generate--and it's no surprise that we're a big mess.

It's a miracle that any person can experience the fact that they are loved.

Yet it happens. We live in a world of miracles.

God loves me, yes. I would not exist in this moment if He did not love me. He is the Someone who is closer to me than I am to myself, and yet also the transcendent Mystery. I am made for Him. But how can I know this God? Or better, how is it that I do know Him, that I trust Him, that I am slowly learning to give my life over to this Mystery?

The only way I can answer this is to say that I have been loved by real people with a love that is different, a love that is a sign of God. I have seen this love. I have seen human beings embraced by a love that is right there in front of me, but also not of this world. I have myself been embraced by this love. It shows itself not so much in great demonstrations, but rather in a whole history of gestures and expressions of life, in the tenacity of a friendship that exists for a reason, that endures even with its flaws.

The only thing that can explain this love is that God has revealed Himself as Love, that God has come to dwell among us, that God is present for me in this moment, and also as Someone who has a name and a face and a history in this world. Through this love, I encounter Him, and I discover that He changes everything.

He changes all my relationships. He changes my solitude. He changes my suffering. It's not necessarily a change in "the way I feel about these things." It's not that "now I feel good all the time" (I don't). He changes the realities themselves; He has entered into the stuff of life because He claims everything for Himself. He is present. He is at work in my life and in the life of every human person.

But how are these persons to know what I'm talking about? Certainly not from my chattering about it. They need to experience the love of God. So if I really want them to know Him, I must love them. The God who is Love, and who became man, wants to use my humanity to show Himself to others first and above all by loving them, unconditionally, as they are, for who they are. He wants me to love them the way He loves them...which is to say, the way He loves me.

This is entirely different from a worldly "tolerance" that evades the person, and distances itself from the person. This is not a "relativism" that uses a superficial affirmation of the other as a pretext for remaining closed within myself, thus escaping the challenge of loving and being loved. This is not an activism that exhausts itself in a self-affirming display.

Loving means loving. It means giving what I have received. It means giving myself, in this moment, to the person or persons who have been entrusted to me. And if I'm "busy" with things--if I am speaking or writing or communicating on the internet--I must ask myself, "Why am I here? Am I here to give myself, or to build up and enrich my capacity to give? Am I here for love?" My writing is worthless unless it is an act of giving myself to those I hope will read it.

Perhaps I'm "preaching to the choir." But those who already know Jesus need to be sustained by His love. "Love one another as I have loved you" - this is the heart of the enduring grace that is "the Church." But I must resist the temptation to allow "the Church in the abstract" (however glorious and beautiful and wise I may conceive it) to replace my responsibility to give myself right now.

The world is starving for love. It is fed every day with counterfeits. It "spends its wages for what is not bread." Of course, real love entails a communication of the truth. But love addresses itself to the person, and its witness is always a gift, a humbling of one's self, a sacrifice. This is what opens the possibility for the truth to be embraced by the other person.

Still, we find ourselves afflicted with so many obstacles: we have our own daily struggles, we are sick, we are tired, we are stressed out. We must bring all of it to the One who has loved us. Perhaps we feel that our love is only a poor imitation of the love we have received, that our love is all mixed up with self-promotion and vanity. And indeed it is. Let's love anyway. Let's do what we can, and also nourish ourselves continually at the places where we find Him who has loved us.

Indeed, we must let Him love us, through the Church, through the sacraments, through prayer, through our brothers and sisters, through the very truth and goodness of the joys and the sufferings of life. It all belongs to Him, and it is all the work of His great and mysterious love for us and our destiny. In His love we will find the strength to give ourselves, and to give Him to others.

The Wonderful Circle of Love and Knowledge

"How can we remain indifferent to such love?
How can we ignore him who has loved us
with such great mercy?
The love of the Redeemer merits
all the heart's and mind's attention,
and can activate also in us that wonderful circle
in which love and knowledge
reciprocally nourish one another"
(Benedict XVI).

It's So Easy to Forget to "Do the Will of God"

Living moment by moment, trying to do the will of God.

I'm a long way from living that way, but it is an "ideal" for which I pray, by which I examine myself. It is an ideal that humbles me, but does not discourage me.

What does it mean, "to do the will of God"?

God's "will" is the same as His wisdom and love. His will for me is His concrete wisdom and love for my life; it corresponds to who I really am, and who I am called to become. To do God's will is to adhere with my own will to reality. Right now, what is really true and good for my life is the relationship between this moment and my destiny.

What is the created world that I am living in right now? It is an invitation and an opportunity to draw closer to God, to correspond from the depths of my freedom to the One-Who-makes-me and the One-for-Whom-I-have-been-made.

"All things were created through Him; all things were created for Him" (Colossians 1:16).

Doing God's will does not mean giving up my own freedom and becoming the slave of some arbitrary metaphysical power that imposes itself on me from the outside. If it seems this way, then either I have misunderstood who God is, or my understanding and my desire are distorted because of sin. God is the One who creates my freedom, and who works "within" my freedom; the very energy of my freedom is my unique, personal capacity to love and embrace the good.

Still, my freedom falls short. I fail to do the will of God. For most of the day, "the will of God" never even enters my head...or my heart. Yet His "will" is His infinite wisdom and loving plan for my life, His design for me. It is what God knows that I truly need in order to become the person He has created me to be. It is the only way that my unique self can be fulfilled as an "adopted son" of the Father, belonging to Jesus and discovering in Him my own true name, adhering to Him with all the energy of my freedom.

Doesn't all that sound inspiring? But how do I live my life? Embroiled in a hundred preoccupations and basically ignoring the love of God.

Here is at least one part of the problem: ignorance. I forget about God. I forget that He is present in my life. It is a weakness of faith.

My faith grows when I "experience" the presence of Christ in my life. The word "experience" does not mean "feel" in the sense of internal emotions. It means to recognize Him, and to become more profoundly convinced that He really does love me, here and now.

This experience grows through the life of the Church, through reading and praying the Sacred Scriptures, through letting the living tradition and teaching of the Church form my mind and heart, and through the marvelous grace of the sacraments. It grows through the help of the people whom Jesus places in my life who remind me--by their words but especially by their example--that He is real. And it grows through learning to respond with love to the small and simple responsibilities and especially to the persons who make up my daily life.

And then there is prayer. In the face of God's call and my continual failure, I can either become discouraged or I can pray. I can embrace the humble fact of what I really am: a beggar before God.

Jesus, have mercy on me. Jesus deepen my awareness of Your presence and Your love in my life. Jesus, give me the grace to know and do Your will. Come Holy Spirit. Come Holy Spirit, living in the heart of Mary, come and change my heart.

Veni Sancte Spiritus. Veni Per Mariam. Jesus, I trust in You.

The Presence of Mary

May is specially dedicated to Mary. Perhaps one of the reasons is that May always includes the season of the resurrection. It is truly the great time of Mary's life, and yet the New Testament does not report any words she said. It merely indicates her presence, at the foot of the Cross, and in the upper room at Pentecost.

Everything that Jesus suffered on the Cross, Mary suffered in her heart. She embraced the whole mystery of Jesus at the beginning, when she said "yes" to the plan of salvation, when she called herself the "handmaid of the Lord" (Luke 1:38). She gave herself over entirely to Jesus. In His birth and in the first glimpses of His mission, we are told that "Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Luke 2:19, see also 2:51).

And when Jesus gave Himself for us on the Cross, He gave us Mary as well, Mary the mother, Mary with her great heart. "Woman, behold, your son!.... Behold your mother! And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home" (John 19:27). Mary goes to stay with the disciple, to be with him, and to be with each of us, because the "yes" of her heart extends as far as the "yes" of Jesus.

Thus, the season of the resurrection is the season of Mary's silent presence with the disciples, a silence of the understanding and love of her maternal heart. The book of Acts simply refers to the presence of "Mary the mother of Jesus" with the disciples in those days leading up to Pentecost (1:14). Mary was present, her heart luminous with the glory of the resurrection, her soul "magnifying the Lord" (see Luke 1:46).

Her silence was full of maternal love, for the Church, and for the world to which the Church would be sent.

Tennis and Community

Tennis is not baseball, but its a lot of fun.

Its the only sport that the whole family likes. The kids have all, until recently, been small. Since we're not one of those power families intent on producing tennis pros, it means that we just play on the courts in the public park, or even in the driveway.

And of course we watch the great ones do their thing on television. Everyone will watch a good tennis match, and marvel at Federer and Nadal and Djokovic and Serena, etc., etc. There is nothing like the drama of a high intensity singles match between two amazing athletes. Really. Try watching the singles finals at the French Open and Wimbledon this summer.

The Chelsea tennis team is more laid back. But its still fun.

Its more than fun. John Paul has done sports camps before, but this is the first time he has ever participated in a dedicated and ongoing sports program. Like in so many things, Chelsea Academy has found the right balance in the education of mind and body. Every student has to participate in at least one sport during the year, and this entails a significant commitment. Since March, John Paul has been practicing 4-5 days a week, as well as playing matches. There are also many in-school sporting events and outdoor activities all through the year.

He's getting in shape. He's getting instructed in the finer points of the game. He is learning the values of striving for excellence, healthy competition, and fair play.

I think its good for John Paul to be on a team. When I was a kid, I played my heart out in every kind of sport. But I never played for a team. We had pickup games in the neighborhood, and of course the daily "gym class" of my public school youth. If anything could be done by pure hustle, I did it. But I had very little skill, and no supervision or confidence building from adults. Then I went to a large high school where the sports program just seemed out of reach.

The good thing about a small school is that its large enough to have access to resources that parents can't provide on their own, and still small enough to ensure that every kid gets attention, and that parents and family can participate in their activities (in fact, parent participation is essential for a lot of the good things that happen at Chelsea).

We are very blessed. Here too, we have another experience of a real community. A real community is not a narrow and stifled place. Its a place where a child can grow into a mature human being, and open up to reality without fear, because he or she lives within an environment of trust.

The aim of community is not a negative; its not a place to avoid "the evils of the world." Community is a human thing; it happens when people gather together to seek what is true and good, and to build constructive environments for themselves and their children.

It happens, because we are social beings. We depend on one another. Sadly, too much of our culture is designed to lead us into a dependence on anonymous forces, generating artificial "needs" that make us forget the essential needs and aspirations of our humanity. We forget about our destiny, and so its not surprising that we forget our need for each other.

Wherever human beings really seek life, they discover that they need to do it together.

Fire

I finally got a Kindle Fire. I caved in.

I haven't been buying books, and my amazon gift cards were piling up. True, you can buy absolutely anything from (or at least through) the online megastore that stays open 24/7 in your house. I could have used my cards to buy something useful for the family, like 500 boxes of cereal. Or I could have splurged on exotic imported chocolate. Or I could have gotten Eileen some lovely jewelry for Mother's Day.

But I decided to make a "professional investment."

Really, that's what it is. I do not play games online. Let me repeat that: I do not play games online. I'm not saying anything against all you folks who ardent devotees of Angry Birds, or those of you who are constantly inviting me to join you in ZombieWorld, or whatever. Everybody has their obsessions...ah...I mean "tastes for recreation." I find my recreation in sports, especially baseball (and hockey too, these days). It is not virtue or asceticism that prevents me from playing online games. It is the simple fact that I'm not good at them. Maybe my brain has taken too much of a beating over the years.

So this is a professional investment. I am going to explore the world of electronic publishing. I have already begun, and am finding it an affordable and convenient way to access, store, and carry around a large variety of texts. The screen is eye-friendly, and you really can "curl up" with the thing, somewhat like a book. Although, lets face it, its not a book.

Now that I have one, I feel much better about the fact that people are buying my own book on Kindle (time for an advertisement: get my book, Never Give Up: My Life and God's Mercy for your Kindle, and you can have it with you all the time: http://t.co/ddwYeqX)

But the internet features are a really nice surprise. The touchscreen keyboard is not so great, but the browser is fine, and the gadget is terrific for reading long pieces of text (something that I often spend hours doing on the internet). Its all there, right in my hand, and enlarging the font size makes it easy on the eyes. This means I don't have to spend so much time hunched over a bulky computer when I want to read online journals or lengthy studies or church documents. I don't have to feel like I'm "spending all day in front of the computer." Its liberating!

There is so much free stuff to read online. And then, there is a lot that can be purchased and downloaded for next to nothing. I got the Summa Theologica of St. Thomas Aquinas for 99 cents! Its on the Kindle, the whole thing. I can pull it out of my pocket anywhere, access any text, search any topic. Thus also the Bible, the works of Shakespeare, etc., etc. I have just begun to build up my "elibrary"!

I know, there's video too, and music. I haven't done much exploring there yet, although the kids and I gathered round and watched Bugs Bunny videos on YouTube on the little seven inch screen.

My interest is still, primarily, the written word. I'm not sure how I feel, "philosophically," about the proliferation of technological convenience devices. They can tempt us to evade responsibility, or to indulge in worthless distractions that serve neither our work nor our leisure. They certainly challenge us to use them wisely and well. I have found that, when used well, these technologies can ease some of the peculiar burdens associated with intellectual labor. They are tools for a thinker, a writer, or a teacher, but they are not substitutes for the heart of those labors. Intellectual work remains, for the poor benighted human being, a slow and difficult business. Its primary food remains the real experience of life, through which ideas mature into wisdom.

The road must be traveled. I am, of course, grateful for anything that is useful for the journey.

A Reasonable Existence

"The screen placed in front of reality - the disinclination of our will - renders the real objects unknowable. On the other hand, moral certainty - what is born of wide-open availability, ever-faithful with the passage of time - is the cradle of a reasonable existence."                                                               - Luigi Giussani

Do I Belong To Myself?

I am frustrated with myself. I don't have the energy to expand the scope of my work. Why not? What is it that afflicts me? My daily work seems to be to gather myself together and live like a man. It is such a struggle just to live every day and not fall into a hole. But I am doing it. Every day is a little victory.

And I write a few words. I chip away at the work of communication. Such is my charism, but how is it meant to grow? When I write, I just say the same thing over and over again. Well, perhaps its something that needs to be heard.

But I've had so much education, so much experience, so much cultivation of mind. I have been gifted in so many ways. Can't I be more useful, more productive?

But these are not the right questions. I have an image of what I'm supposed to be, and I feel defeated because I don't live up to it. It is only human to have goals and aspirations. But I am trying to measure myself. That is the basis of my frustration.

Who do I belong to? Do I belong to myself? Am I defined by my own project (and it's a worthy project: bearing witness to the Gospel and the dignity of the human person)? How do I stand in relation to my project? I am a failure.

But I need to remember, again and again, that I am not alone.

The fact is, I don't really know who I am. I don't know what God's will is for me. I don't know the depths of my own self-deception, or the wounds that I've caused by my sins.

I don't know what needs to be healed.

But Jesus is here. Jesus is present. What matters is to love Him, right now.

I must abandon everything to the merciful and compassionate Heart of Jesus, my Crucified and Risen Lord, who loves me.

He asks for my love all day, often in simple things that I would rather ignore. I pray that I might recognize Him and be drawn to Him.

I need salvation. I need Him.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Come into my life! Take the whole mess of my life and transform me.

I belong to You.

I Just Love Baseball

The end of the month of April draws near. Ah, April! Springtime, Easter time, and--for the baseball fan--the season of dreams. Anything seems possible in April.

The baseball season begins in early April. By this time the baseball fan (especially a young fan) has already followed an elaborate ritual of preparation. Around February, he starts looking for current season baseball cards at store checkouts. When I was a kid in the early 1970s, a small pack of cards plus a stick of gum cost 10 cents! The larger packs were 25 cents! Now they are $1.99 and $2.99 (I guess that corresponds to the overall value increase of everything).

Baseball cards are followed by the start of "Spring Training" in late February and exhibition games in March. Baseball teams go to Florida (or Arizona, increasingly) for spring training. This is all fun in the beginning, but eventually we get itchy for the "regular" season to start. April ushers in the season, and the Major League standings begin appearing once more in the daily newspapers (or these days, on the mlb website). Suddenly, the great dance of baseball begins. 30 teams (when I was a kid there were 24) begin a six month odyssey of daily play, with all its subtlety and nuance, all its strength and speed and gracefulness, all its peculiar instincts and--especially--its battle of wits, practical intelligence, and strategy.

Baseball appears like a leisurely game to an untrained observer, and in a certain sense, it is. That is part of its beauty. Certainly it requires athletic skill and energy if it is to be played well. But even as it engages the senses and the imagination in so many ways, baseball is in a very special way a form of "play" for the mind. For someone who grows up with the game, all of its rules and peculiarities and strategies are learned until they develop into a sort of "practical wisdom" that grasps how the game is played, and finds exercise and enjoyment in its rhythm. The baseball fan understands the significance of so many aspects of the game that seem to an outsider as slow, dull, and boring. The baseball fan appreciates the drama of the game. There is, in fact, a great deal of drama.

And when spring comes, if you are young (as I once was, and as John Paul still is), you break out the gloves and balls and bats that have been sitting in the carport for what seems like forever, and start pitching, catching, and hitting with whoever happens to be around, or--if necessary--by yourself.

"Little League," of course, is an American institution, but for whatever reason I never played as a child, and I haven't (yet) gotten involved in it with any of my children. John Paul has participated in baseball camps and a few summer leagues. We were hoping that Chelsea would have a team this year, but they chose tennis instead. So John Paul is playing tennis (which is fun too), but we're still lobbying for baseball.

I grew up in a city neighborhood, with a playground and baseball field right behind my house. My baseball playing experience as a kid was entirely "pick-up" with neighborhood friends, and we had different versions of the game to accommodate limited groups of kids (there was even a "one on one" version--batter and pitcher) The ball field had a couple of buildings on one side, and we would chalk in strike zones on the walls.

As soon as the snow melted and the mud dried up, I would venture out to the field with ball and glove, and begin pitching against that wall, while taking in the smell of the dusty field and my leather glove. I dreamed of being a great pitcher. April is a time for dreams.

And always, there were games on the radio. Today, the games are all on TV, and although we don't watch every minute of every game, I do find baseball a relaxation for my all to often anxious and restless mind. It is not a distraction. I am convinced that it remains for me a constructive exercise for my mind and, in its own small way, a healing for my soul. Life is impoverished without genuine play.

We are only a few weeks into the season, and the Washington Nationals are in first place. Haha! April is a time for dreams, indeed.

Mysteriously Embraced By God's Love

I found this text from Pope Benedict today and it meant a lot to me. Life is indeed mysterious; it is not at all about an "efficiency and well-being" that corresponds to our narrow expectations. We are made for so much more. We are made to belong to God, and we really can't imagine what this means. But He wants our questions to become prayers; He wants our suffering to become awareness of our need for Him, and it is there--even when we don't understand, and can do nothing except place ourselves in His hands--that He transforms us.

"It is in times of pain that the ultimate questions about the meaning of one’s life make themselves acutely felt. If human words seem to fall silent before the mystery of evil and suffering, and if our society appears to value life only when it corresponds to certain standards of efficiency and well-being, the word of God makes us see that even these moments are mysteriously 'embraced' by God’s love. Faith born of an encounter with God’s word helps us to realize that human life deserves to be lived fully, even when weakened by illness and pain. God created us for happiness and for life, whereas sickness and death came into the world as a result of sin (cf. Wis. 2:23-24). Yet the Father of life is mankind’s physician par excellence, and he does not cease to bend lovingly over suffering humanity. We contemplate the culmination of God’s closeness to our sufferings in Jesus himself, the Word incarnate. He suffered and died for us. By his passion and death he took our weakness upon himself and totally transformed it."

Benedict XVI, Verbum Domini 106

Why Am I Afraid?

Dear Mother Mary,
When I say Totus Tuus,
I know I'm holding back.
Why?

You give birth to Jesus in my life.
Through you, I learn to live as His brother.
Jesus.
Through you,
The Word becomes flesh in my life.
Through you comes my salvation,
and my healing.
I am "totally yours"
but I am afraid, even still.

You are my merciful Mother.
I am in the folds of your mantle,
and the crossing of your arms.
And I know your tenderness.
Why am I afraid?
Jesus is here.
Why am I afraid?

Is it because I have been hurt in life,
lashed and torn,
beaten?
Life seems to attack me sometimes
and I am powerless to defend myself.
Life is hard
and I am afraid of the pain.

I know it is not entirely my fault.

But I cannot deny my fault is there,
and that I fight God's grace,
contesting every inch of ground.
This causes me sorrow,
that I struggle against my own healing.

Still I come to you, my Mother,
I come as your petulant,
complicated, quarrelsome son.
With all my objections
and all my resistance
and all my fear,
I come to you.
I ask you to embrace my life
in your maternal heart
and nurture me in your patience.

Please bring me to Jesus.
Please give me confidence.
Please bring me healing.
Please obtain for me the grace of the Holy Spirit
to renew my life,
to change what needs changing in my life.

I am totally yours
and all that I have is yours
including my weakness
and my resistance (if that makes any sense,
and I think that it does).

I pray for joy.
I pray to be free from fear.
I pray for conversion.
I pray for healing.

Jesus is here. Deepen my trust in Him.

Loving Me in This Moment

There are times when I remember that I belong to Jesus, that the source of my identity and the energy that draws me to seek and build the good is His love and mercy. "I no longer live; Christ lives in me" which means that "I live in faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me."

Living faith is trust, and that requires me to realize that the source of my life is something more than a man who lived and died two thousand years ago. He lives. He loves me and gives Himself to me now. There are moments when I remember this truth, this real fact that defines me and that defines reality right now.

But too often, it slips away from the present. Somehow, the truth of "Jesus loving me in this moment" subtly turns into "the Christian worldview" or "the Christian system of thought." These latter things, of course, have their place as aspects of living with Jesus in the Church and in the world.

The problem comes when they become a substitute for the awareness of belonging to Jesus, of being in a relationship with the Person of Jesus who is present in my life, who is working by the power of His Spirit to make me an adopted son of the Father. When "Christian thought" loses its vital connection with the Person of Jesus, it atrophies. It becomes my system, my project, my way of defining myself.

Its so easy to become a member of the "Christian party," to fight for "Christian ideas," or even to talk about things like love, mercy, and presence (such as I am doing right now) and forget all about the Person of Jesus Christ! I can so easily live as if He doesn't exist, which means, of course, that I live in the presumption that everything depends on me. And that I am alone.

I am not saying that it is necessary to constantly conjure a picture of Jesus in my mind, or be obsessed with explicitly thinking about Him at every moment. This is a living reality, an intimacy, an attachment of the heart, an impetus for love.

He loves me and gives Himself for me: this is what constitutes the real value of my "self." How much do I live this and depend on it? Very little. I live in forgetfulness and distraction. But He never forgets.

The only way to grow in this awareness is to pray. "Jesus deepen my awareness of Your presence in my life. Deepen my trust in You."

The Whisper of "Forever"

I am spending time with my family, and I am content.

And yet....

It is not only in disappointment and suffering, but also and especially in the experience of good things that the yearning of the heart awakens, and I am wounded with wonder and hope. I expect and reach toward the Mystery for whom I have been made. Every true satisfaction, in this world, contains within itself this deepening of desire.

The experience of being loved is a sign and a promise that points to my destiny, where everything will be fulfilled. And so I can truly appreciate and receive with tenderness and joy the genuine goodness of this moment. I do not grasp it in a selfish and possessive way; rather I hear its call and am empowered with the confidence to give myself.

When the fragile moments of life whisper "forever" to our hearts, they are not lying.

A New Earth

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth" (Genesis 1:1).

"And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good" (Genesis 1:31).

"O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is thy name in all the earth!" (Psalm 8:1).

"They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea" (Isaiah 11:9).

"The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth" (Isaiah 40:28).

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made" (John 1:1-3).

"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14).

"Who then is this, that even wind and sea obey him?" (Mark 4:41).

"...and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself" (John 12:32).

"Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb where no one had ever been laid" (John 19:41).

"For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God" (Romans 8:19-21).

"For he has made known to us in all wisdom and insight the mystery of his will, according to his purpose which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth" (Ephesians 1:9-10).

"Behold, I make all things new" (Revelation 21:5).

The Call To Love

It is so easy for me to forget that the human beings I encounter every day are real persons. Of course I forget about the check-out person at the grocery story, or the person behind the fast food counter or the drive through window. The person at the bank. The person in the car in front of me. The person on the other end of the phone when I need tech support. They are all just widgets whose purpose for existing is reduced to fulfilling my needs.

Well, perhaps I don't entirely forget them. I try to be nice and polite. These encounters are brief, and barely scratch the surface of my consciousness. Still, I know that I am not adequate to the reality that they bear; I am numb to the miracle of the unique persons all around me.

It's even worse when something goes wrong.

Part of it is simply the weight of being human. I'm tired. I'm in a hurry. I am troubled by my own frustrations, and am anxious to accomplish a task (even a simple one) because I have been hurt by the experience of failure and I am afraid of failing again. I am physically and mentally incapable of handling stress. Perhaps I'm hungry. Or constipated. The wiring in my brain is all messed up, of course. I have issues, I have defense mechanisms, I have walls that I have built to protect myself, I have genetic predispositions to react in certain ways, I have hormones and an endocrine system that is--no doubt--out of balance. Biotoxins flow through my blood, the environment poisons me, the relentlessness of getting older wears me down. This is the human environment from which my conscious intentions, thoughts, and desires emerge.

But the fact is that I have free will. I am responsible for myself and my actions. Whatever problems I may have, my freedom is still summoned to grow in love. Every encounter with a person is an opportunity to love, however small. The call to love is greater than my weakness. But I am weak. I must learn to adhere to this greater reality that is love.

The call to love is a grace, and it is drawing me toward healing. Healing comes from grace. The capacity to recognize the human person comes from Christ, whose presence I must learn to recognize. How? I must pray. I must ask for Him to heal me and transform me. I must receive Him in the sacraments. I must follow those who have already grown in the art of living. I must listen, and be humble.

The need to recognize the person, and the possibility for love, penetrates the whole day. I must ask myself, "How often do I treat my wife as a 'thing,' a piece of my life rather than an other person to be loved?" How often do I look at my children and recognize that they are persons? It is easy to acknowledge all of this in theory, and write nice, appreciate essays about my wife and children. That's easy.

But in real life? In everyday things? The call of love is blocked by evasion, impatience, words ill-spoken, the subtle workings of power and manipulation, or just plain distraction.

How do I treat these people every day?

There is material for an examination of conscience right there: one that brings humility, and sorrow, and a memory that commits me again to the vocation of love and the work that it requires.

If I were alone in my own being, however, it would be a fruitless commitment. But I am not alone. Jesus is present, and He is at work in my life by the power of His Spirit.

I fail again and again. But Jesus is present. Jesus has conquered my weakness. I must never be discouraged. I must keep going to Him, seeking Him, asking for Him, letting Him build me up through the instruments of His grace, and learning more and more to recognize Him in other persons, in every circumstance, asking for my love.

Faces

My wife and I were remembering a trip to New York we made "some years ago" for a college benefit. We were both struck by the realization that it was before any of the children were born. We were still newlyweds, and we had dreams about the future. But we didn't have any idea about these particular children. We couldn't have even imagined the faces of these kids. These particular human persons!

Marriage is an awesome thing!

The Victorious Certainty That It Is Really True

Faith, hope and charity go together.
Hope is practised through the virtue of patience,
which continues to do good
even in the face of apparent failure,
and through the virtue of humility,
which accepts God's mystery
and trusts him even at times of darkness.
Faith tells us that God has given his Son for our sakes
and gives us the victorious certainty
that it is really true: God is love!
It thus transforms our impatience and our doubts
into the sure hope
that God holds the world in his hands
and that...in spite of all darkness
he ultimately triumphs in glory.
Faith, which sees the love of God revealed
in the pierced heart of Jesus on the Cross,
gives rise to love.
Love is the light
—and in the end, the only light—
that can always illuminate a world grown dim
and give us the courage needed
to keep living and working.
Love is possible,
and we are able to practise it
because we are created in the image of God.
[We are able] to experience love and in this way
to cause the light of God to enter into the world.


Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est 39