Is There a LIST of "Things-to-Do-to-Become-a-Compassionate-Human-Being"?

Lately, there have been quite a few blog posts and articles that feature lists of "what not to say" to people who are suffering, followed by brief explanations of why people can be hurt by these things even when we say them with the best of intentions. These lists often apply to "invisible" or often misunderstood afflictions: "Ten things you shouldn't say to people with Depression." "Five things you shouldn't say to people with chronic illness." "Ten things you shouldn't say to people who are grieving." Every day there seems to be something new that perhaps we've never thought about before.

I have also read blogs and comments expressing some frustration with the whole (cumulatively overwhelming) explosion of these various lists. At a certain point, it begins to seem like anything we say is going to offend someone. We end up feeling even more nervous and uncomfortable around people whose problems we don't understand. Is there anything we can say that won't offend them or increase the weight of their afflictions?

I must say that I have found reading some of these lists to be very useful. I suffer from chronic illnesses, and I know that certain points listed are valid and good for other people to know. I also have found helpful insights into types of suffering that I don't appreciate from personal experience. For example, I have no way of knowing what it feels like for a woman to have a miscarriage; so I appreciate some tips on how to offer condolences and be a friend without acting like an oaf.

This kind of awareness, however, is about more than just giving (or taking) offense. It's helpful toward learning the art of compassion. Many people want to be compassionate, and anything that contributes to their practical understanding of the suffering of others has some value. We do need to learn how to build one another up, to share one another's burdens. I think these lists can make a contribution here, even if they do tend to seem a bit constraining. It's good to combine such things with more positive information about how we can be helpful, what we can do that will make a difference.

Perhaps the thing that should be stressed above all is that these lists can never give us a guaranteed "formula" for approaching human suffering and loving another human person perfectly, without mistakes. They may help us to focus in certain ways, but true compassion is always personal, and the only way to really learn it is by giving it and receiving it within relationships with real people. Even the most basic human interactions require an awareness of the other person, an investment of one's self, an attention and a tenderness that are foundational to a relationship. There is simply no other legitimate way to approach a human person (and even though we forget this and fail constantly, we must keep trying again and again). There are no shortcuts to developing strong and deep human relationships; they must be cultivated with patience and persistence. Compassion always grows in this way, by means of a love that can't avoid taking risks and therefore must be resilient. We need to stay with one another and keep loving one another concretely even though we will always make mistakes.

Human relationships are forged through compassion, and we will never be able to make them safe and easy. We must learn, be attentive, and develop the habits of a courageous empathy, but still we will never find a foolproof set of rules or behavior patterns that will always "work." Human persons and human suffering are too particular and too profound to be resolved by any system, or penetrated by any wisdom that we may attain by ourselves.

We will always be weak; we will always fall short in love, and we will often hurt one another. A million lists won't solve this problem.

Only Jesus solves it, but He doesn't solve it by magic. He works in us through real life, with our good intentions, our weakness, our efforts to learn, our commitment to one another as persons, the investment of our time, and the forgiveness, perseverance, hope, and compassion for one another that His Spirit engenders within us.

Our hope is in Him. He gives us the strength to persevere in love, and His grace transforms us into instruments of His mercy.

A Set of Ideas? A Morality? Or a Person Who Changes Life...

It often seems that we can talk and talk and talk about the Catholic faith, but never even mention the name of Jesus Christ. If we do mention Him, it's often within the context of the "things" we are supposed to believe because we're Catholic. Or perhaps we'll acknowledge Christ as having a central place in Catholic doctrine.

This is not sufficient. This will not do!

To be Catholic is to belong to JESUS in His Church. Life is relationship with Jesus Christ. Without Him we can neither do nor suffer anything. As Catholics we must not presuppose this relationship; we must not take it for granted. We must not assume, "Of course Christ is at the center, yes, yes, yes..." because this center is a Person. Without a living relationship with this Person even "Catholicism" is reduced in our minds and hearts to an ideology, or a party we belong to, or a vehicle for our own ambitions.

Please, let Jesus be at the center of your "being Catholic," because we don't live for abstract ideas or for the project of becoming virtuous by our own power; we live for Him. He gives us the power -- the grace -- to live according to His will (which is His wisdom and love for each of us). He also forgives us, again and again.

Does God Give Us Personal Fulfillment?

"A man is not justified by observance of the law but only through faith in Jesus Christ" (Galatians 2:16).

St. Paul's point is very direct, and it corresponds to Jesus's own testimony. We cannot find our true fulfillment by any kind of action that is within the scope of our power. This is because we are made not for self-generated achievement. We are made for relationship with God. We find our true destiny in the "loss" of our "selves," that is, the self-abandonment, the giving of ourselves over in love to the Infinite One who is the Source of all that we are, and who invites us to share in His own Infinite life.

We think that we can achieve our destiny by actions that we can understand and carry out by ourselves; actions that we can possess entirely, without any relational context, without any loss of ourselves. St. Paul knows that God's people Israel have the Law, with its rituals and precepts. But they are not capable of entering into the interior reality of the Law by themselves. The Law is an expression of the Covenant, which is, in turn, a promise of something greater than itself.

Some in Israel seemed to think that the Law was a formula, a way of conjuring God somehow, a way of making themselves worthy of God while still remaining radically independent of God. They wanted to become god-like without giving themselves to God.

But the Covenant was never meant to be a prescription for self-justification. It was never meant to be a "list-of-things-to-do-to-make-myself-righteous" and thereby secure God's approval while remaining within the enclosure of my own self-satisfaction. The Law points beyond itself; it was given to engender hope, to turn the people of Israel outward, to awaken their desire for a more profound and intimate relationship with the God of the Covenant. To "observe" the Law alone is impossible, except in a superficial, outward sense. The entire Old Testament is alive with the cry and the poignant plea to God for "something more," but also a confident hope that God would bring Himself close and enter into a relationship with His people:

Lord, listen to my prayer:
turn your ear to my appeal.
You are faithful, you are just; give answer.
Do not call your servant to judgment
for no one is just in your sight.

Lord, make haste and answer;
for my spirit fails within me.
Do not hide your face
lest I become like those in the grave.

In the morning let me know your love
for I put my trust in you.
Make me know the way I should walk:
to you I lift up my soul.

(Psalm 143:1-2, 7-8)

Jesus Christ is the answer to this prayer. "Faith in Jesus Christ" draws us into a gift of ourselves to Him, through that hopeful and loving trust engendered in us by His grace that awakens us to mystery of our vocation. God calls us to share in His life, to become "like Him" in a way beyond anything we could have imagined. We are called to share in Jesus's love for the Father in the Spirit.

It turns out that "giving myself away totally to God" is not something that demeans my freedom or results in the loss of my dignity as a person. On the contrary, it is the realization of freedom and of the person. For God Himself is Infinite Self-Giving Love. The Trinity reveals that total self giving is at the very root of what it means to be a person.

Jesus says, "I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 14:11). And we will fulfill the true meaning of ourselves as persons, we will achieve the destiny and fulfillment for which we have been created, by abandoning ourselves to Him and trusting in Him: "Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Matthew 10:39).

We have been created to become gifts, to realize our freedom as love, to live in relationship as persons, and to "find ourselves" forever in relationship to God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

The Strength of a Woman

"The moral and spiritual strength of a woman is joined to her awareness that God entrusts the human being to her in a special way. Of course, God entrusts every human being to each and every other human being. But this entrusting concerns women in a special way -- precisely by reason of their femininity -- and this in a particular way determines their vocation....

"A woman is strong because of her awareness of this entrusting, strong because of the fact that God 'entrusts the human being to her,' always and in every way, even in the situations of social discrimination in which she may find herself. This awareness and this fundamental vocation speak to women of the dignity which they receive from God himself, and this makes them 'strong' and strengthens their vocation....

"In our own time, the successes of science and technology make it possible to attain material well-being to a degree hitherto unknown. While this favours some, it pushes others to the edges of society. In this way, unilateral progress can also lead to a gradual loss of sensitivity for man, that is, for what is essentially human. In this sense, our time in particular awaits the manifestation of that 'genius' which belongs to women, and which can ensure sensitivity for human beings in every circumstance: because they are human!"

Blessed John Paul II,
On the Dignity and Vocation of Women, 30

Just Don't Get Too Involved

We have arrived, once again, at these meaningful weeks that mark the end of the calendar year and the beginning of the liturgical year. For many of us, its a season of tensions, where different facets of our lives come together and jostle with one another.

We are preparing for the celebration of the mystery of the incarnation, of God taking our human nature and being born of the Virgin Mary. Of course, in the "bad-old-world-out-there" its time for the annual celebration of...um...umm... lights and decorations and family and "the spirit of giving" and songs and eggnog and, especially, stuff! 

We Christians of course are not like that! We remember The True Meaning Of Christmas. We don't start celebrating before Christmas (well, not too much...). We observe Advent (kind of). We decorate first and above all with the Nativity scene (ours is made in China).

We Janaros put an Advent wreath on the table, with candles (and we have to watch the girls to make sure no one's hair catches on fire).

We Janaros actually have a lot going on in this season of preparation. Teresa's birthday, December 6. Agnese's birthday, December 21. (Mine is after the New Year.) This means family celebrations and birthday parties too. Also--even though we're not tainted by the Materialistic and Consumerist Culture--we still have to do some shopping. In other words, we want some stuff. But not too much stuff; we wouldn't know where to put it.

We also try to observe this as a penitential season. (Which means...what did we decide to do? Oh, we still have to think about that.)

Its Advent! Christmas is coming! Christ is coming!

God is coming.

Uh oh....

People used to ask Jesus, "what must I do to be saved?" I find myself saying the same thing. For me it means, "God, You are the Lord of all, and *wow* here You are, so...heh...I hope we can...um...make some kind of a deal...?"

I shouldn't be surprised that people want to dodge the whole "incarnation" thing. Really, its a bit overwhelming. I'm usually overwhelmed by it, insofar as I take it seriously. I feel like saying:

"Dear God, I want to know You and obey You. I certainly don't want You to be mad at me. And I know that I'm all messed up (but don't forget, this whole 'freedom' schtick was Your idea--You never asked me; I probably would have been fine if You had made me as a rock). 

"Can't You just 'fix' me? Just do it, like, from up there. 

"Oh, and give me a 'How To' manual, something like Rules For How To Operate My Human Being: Final Edition. 

"And, God, I think You're awesome. You are the Creator of beautiful mountains and galaxies and everything. You are greater than everything. And really, I'm okay with that. In fact I think its wonderful. If You could just stay up there and be God, it would be great....

"But there's no need to overdo it.

"You just stay up there and keep the universe going, and I'll stay down here and make myself happy. Of course I'll follow Your Rule Book...most of the time. Oh, and give me stuff when I ask for it, please? 

"I'll worship You, no problem (make sure the Rule Book has a chapter on that). I'm not proud or arrogant or cruel or perverse or anything like that. I'm a good person. I try very hard. And I understand: You're God and I'm the creature. It will be great, God. Just don't get too involved, and everything will be fine."

Of course, I would never really say anything like this; I know that what I usually think of as "the Rule Book" doesn't permit me to present this as a serious proposal. But these words express an attitude of heart, the attitude that I usually have in my life. I think many people have a similar attitude. Good people. Even Christians.

I'm also a father. What would I do with a child like this? The child says, "Dad, you're great, tell me what I'm supposed to do, give me what I need, and then go away!"

Obviously, this child is a teenager.

I'd be patient. But I wouldn't be satisfied. My child needs so much more. I'd hope that one day this child would come to me and say, "Dad, I think I'm in love."

If I Were an Onion, I Would Want You To Eat Me

We had this delicious stew for dinner with chicken and beans and spices and onions. I was eating mine up and enjoying it (of course, I'd hardly taken a spoonful and John Paul was already eyeing the pot and saying, "Is anybody gonna want more?").

One of the main reasons why fathers are given authority in the household is because otherwise they would starve to death.

Then there's little tweety-bird on the other side of the table. Josefina is carefully removing each onion slice and placing it (neatly) on the side of her dish.

"What's wrong with the onions?" I asked.

"I don't like the onions."

"Ohhh," I replied. "You know what? If I were an onion, I would be really sad if Josefina refused to eat me."

"Why?"

"Because I would be so lonely on the side of the dish. And I'd be so sorry not to be eaten by Josefina."

So she thought for a moment, and said, "Would you want me to eat you more than anyone else?"

Oh no. How did I let myself get into this position? When you have several daughters, you have to be careful not to play favorites. I always tell them that I love each of them in the special way that only she can be loved.

That sounds like a political answer, but its true. Why does every woman think she's special? Because she is special. Its not a competition. Right from the beginning, every girl should grow up with the awareness that she is a gift. Fathers should foster this awareness.

This can't be done without attention. And real attention is difficult. It is an interior thing. It is the fruit not so much of a self-conscious effort, as it is a kind of sacrifice, a self-effacement that makes space for each person to be the object of a special appreciation and gratitude. Of course, sons also need attention, but with different accents (that's a topic for another time). Every child needs this from his or her parents.

I've never been very good at self-effacement. And its not a matter of being timid or passive. Its a matter of humility. Humility is the habit of wonder and gratitude in front of everything. Humility sees everything coming from the hand of God. It is a grace for which we must pray.

Getting back to the story: If I were an onion, would I want Josefina, more than anyone else, to eat me? I deserved this question. I set myself up for it. What do I say?

"Well," I said, "If I were your onion, I would want you to eat me."

Hahaha. Back to the dinner. Josefina continued to add to the arrangement on the side of her dish.

Finally I said, "Bring those onions over here. I'll eat them!"

Let's Start With Coffee

Here are some lessons I've begun to learn. I hope that I'm really learning them, and not simply spouting them off. In any case, they are reflections from my life. Often I do the opposite of what it says here, but I hope that years of failure are teaching me something.


Love the person. Find what is good in the person and encourage it, foster it, strengthen it, help them build on it.

There is something in every person that is worthy of affirmation. Affirm the good.

Listen to people. Even when they're wrong.

And don't do it just to be "polite". Try to understand what they are seeking, what "good" they are trying to protect, and what they fear. I know from my own experience that when I think or do something wrong, its usually because I am trying to avoid suffering. I also know that it never really works.

Compassion. I must be willing to join that person in their suffering. This is the place where they need love.

Not condescension.

Not false approval.

Love. Humble love.

I should bend down and let them step on my back so that they might see what's on the other side of their wall.

And then there are things we have in common.

I don't think I've ever met a person with whom I had nothing in common. Find that common thing, however small it may be. Let solidarity with the person begin there.

It may seem small indeed. The disagreements among people in the world today are prominent. We rub shoulders every day with people who have completely different ideas about the universe and the meaning of life. Perhaps the only thing we have in common is a need for coffee in the morning.

Very well, let's start with coffee. In this detail of life, a person is present to me. Here is a place where I can give myself to another person and they can give themselves to me.

If I take the risk, they might respond.

I might even go so far as to have tea, if that's what they prefer.

Do good.

Avoid evil.

We cannot create common bonds by betraying the truth. Not only is is wrong; it makes no sense. If a person refuses to accept reality, I can't falsify reality in order to be united with them. We can only build on a foundation of reality.

"Oh, so you cut people's throats. How interesting! What kind of knife do you like best?"

No, that's going nowhere. That's not helping anybody.

We cannot pretend that there is no evil in the world. There is great evil in the world. And people attach themselves to it. Love tries to find ways to help them break free.

Here especially I must remember to love myself. There's plenty of evil looking at me in the mirror. I need to do some breaking free, but how? Love, love? I don't even know how to love myself! That means I have to let myself be loved. Why is this so strangely difficult?

Sometimes it is necessary to fight. We need the grace to make the difficult judgment of when that time has come, as well as where and how it needs to be done.

Then, we must fight hard and fight fair.

Fight evil. Don't fight against the person. Fight for the person, and against the evil that they are using to destroy themselves and others. And don't fight for the advancement of self. Don't fight for vengeance.

This is not easy. The temptation is always there, to prove myself by vanquishing the other person. The temptation is especially strong when I know I'm right.

War. I fight wars every day, especially with the people who are close to me. These wars are often unjust, almost always ill considered, and usually indiscriminate. If I really want peace in the world, I should start with my own house.

The greatest weapon of mass destruction is right between my teeth.

But the very same can be used to build peace, and to communicate the truth in love.

The tongue: use wisely. Often, silence is the better thing. Only use the tongue with the help of God.

Really, what I need to do is just forgive people. But I can't do this unless I encounter a great, healing mercy in my own life.

I need mercy, present in my life right now. We all do.

I Just Want a Little "Ego Gravy"

O Lord, what is Your will for me?

Wait...hold it!
Do I really want to know?
Honestly,
I am
thoroughly
and
profoundly
TERRIFIED
of what Your will might be.

Is it Your will that I make some sacrifice?
I can make sacrifices.
I can give up anything,
everything,
except the stuff I want to keep.

Is it Your will that I suffer?
If I say, "Thy will be done,"
am I gonna get walloped by something?

Father in heaven,
where do we stand?

As I see it,
You want me
to love You
above all things,
with all my heart,
and all my soul,
and all my mind,
and all my strength.

What do I want?

I want to love You
as much as I can...
as long as I can do other things too,
and as long as it doesn't get inconvenient.

When that happens,
I want to negotiate.

What are the rules?
What do I absolutely have to do
in order to avoid...
you know...the Other Place.

I know I don't want to go there.

I want to love You, really.
But I want to clear some space
where I can just take it easy,
where I can do my will
without offending You, of course
(or, at least, not too much).

What do I want?

I want to be a good person.
I want to have a good life.
I want to make some sacrifices for higher things,
but I would like to be secure in my basic comforts.

(n.b. "basic" means "first world basic")

I want money.
Of course I mean "honest" money;
I wouldn't dream of stealing.

In fact, I don't want to dream about stealing,
so I beg You to give me invincible ignorance
about where it all comes from
and whose getting ripped off.
After all, there's nothing I can do about that. Right?

I really love my wife.
And I will be faithful to her.
I also want to make my wife happy,
and I'm willing to work on that...up to a point...
beyond which I hope we can make a deal to put up with each other.

I want economic security (i.e. money).

Children? Oh yes!
I want wonderful children who will raise themselves.
But since they can't do that, of course I'm willing to help them.

I love my children.
I really do.
I want to fulfill my role as "father"
(By the way, what the heck does that mean?
How do I know I'm doing it right?)

I want better health,
but not so good that I lose my excuse for being lazy, heh.
Actually, I wish my health were so good
that I never felt the need to be lazy.

I want to maintain a good standard of living (i.e. I want money).

I want to do important work.
I want (easy) access to the resources
that can assist me
in this important work
(which means I need money).

I want to educate people.
In fact, I like nothing better than to teach them about You!
I really do want them to love You.
I hope they will love You more than I do.

I also hope they will love me.
I worry that maybe they don't love me.

I want them to praise You, O Lord.

I also want them to praise me...
obviously not the way they praise you,
oh no no no no.
I just want a little ego gravy.

And, of course
I hope they will pay me
some money
so that....

"Enough!" says the Lord God. "I already know these things you are telling Me."

And the Lord God says, "Here is what displeases me: this word "worry". I do not approve of this word."

"Why do you worry?
Why are you afraid?"

Ummm....oh, heh, that....well...
I'm afraid...that...maybe...I'm not...um...
loved.

And the Lord God is silent.

Oh...ah...of course I KNOW that You love me!

You created me, and give me my being,
and You sent Your Son who died on the cross for me....

"But...."

Hmmm. ...but I'm afraid.

I'm afraid because....
Sometimes it just seems so strange, the whole thing.
Here I am, a screwed up human being.
Why me?
Why should I be loved?
I mean...there's nothing worth loving here,
nothing,
I don't deserve to be loved...certainly not by You.
You know I'm nothing but a sham.
I've never done anything....

I kept on talking but I couldn't hear myself anymore. There was only the weight of His arms around me as He lifted me and drew me to Himself. And then it was quiet.

Conversation: He Talks, But Does He Listen?

Everyday conversation. What do I have to say for myself? Well, for starters, I don't really know how to listen to a person.

I'm not saying that I'm a boor, or that I never let others talk. I do plenty of listening in a conversation. I listen to people's words and give a lot of attention to what they are thinking.

But I don't listen to people.

Sometimes, when people speak to me, my mind works hard to organize their expressions into the form of some coherent problem, and then respond in a way that helps them to resolve their problem. I assume that this is "communication," and I am sincere, because I really do want to help people--which, of course, means finding the right ideas to advance their ways of thinking.

This is not so bad, of course. It can be useful if the person is asking a question, or seeking information.

But often, when people speak, that's not what they want.

Of course, I know that, and I'm very flexible. I don't just belabor people with advice. In fact, I can be useful in variety of different conversations.

Sometimes people just want to banter. Well, I'm good at bantering. Jokes? Even better. Or talk about the weather, or whatever else. I try my best to be agreeable in conversation. After all, I like people. I come from an Italian heritage--of course I like people! I like people and food even better.

And of course, I want people to like me. So what's wrong with that?

Nothing, I suppose. There's nothing wrong with it...well, a bit of vanity here and there....

But am I paying attention to this human person who is speaking to me?

If the person is really giving something of himself or herself to me in a conversation, am I listening? As long as its articulate, informative, or entertaining, or I can be helpful, or I can get the person to like me more? Sure, I'm listening.

But what about those insoluble, inexplicable things, the cries of the heart, those words that are not asking for a solution but are trying to share a suffering? What if the person wants nothing from me? He or she just wants me to listen, to be receptive.

I will try, but my mind starts to wander pretty quickly. My effort is rather weak.

Too often, my desire in human interactions is for me to experience affirmation. I want to come out of a conversation with the sense that my value has been recognized and appreciated. This desire can even be a motivation for "helping" people. It feels great when I receive the recognition and gratitude of people who have been helped by me.

Of course, I'll say, "Oh really, nothing, nothing at all" and "its God's work" (funny how I'm willing to toss a few crumbs to God) and "I'm just a poor man who knows nothing," etc., etc. but don't be fooled by that! A vain person always has a "humility routine" to conceal his vanity from others and especially from himself.

I know that there is something psychologically complex at work here. I really want to recognize and love the other person. I want to see and to rejoice in the gift of God that is the mystery of this other person. I want to receive what he or she has to give. I want to do "what's right." After all, I'm a "good Catholic"! I won't violate God's commandments to satisfy my vanity.

Uhhh...well...not consciously, anyway. Ah...heh...okay, okay, in little ways, yeah...I'll fib sometimes, or I'll diss somebody (just a bit), or I'll play to other people's cynical tendencies because that's always good for a laugh! And I'll buff and wax everything you see and hear (and read) so that you will admire me (hypocrisy? Oh yeah!).

But its not just that. Really, my motivations are usually a complex mixture of self-seeking and other aspirations. There is the desire and the will to seek something more, to find the "you" at the other side of the conversation, to discover communication and community. And then I've glimpsed many times the Beauty that is so much greater than my grasping ego, and that Beauty is always drawing me.

Yes, I'm a mixed bag. A real muddle.

There are so many problems in the world. And I don't have to go anywhere to find "the world." The world beats beneath my ribs.

A real muddle. And also this Beauty, that draws mysteriously, works miracles, changes things. There is the muddle...and then Something Different.

Something has happened in me, in the world. Its changing everything....

People notice it even when I try to hide it. And, really, I don't want to hide it.

My Life is not Solitude

God never leaves me "alone." My very existence in this moment is brought about by His creative and sustaining love.

This goes to the core of my identity; this is what I am: "relationship-to-Him"! There is no autonomous "me" that can somehow stand "outside" of this relationship. Sin adds nothing to me, because sin is radically "no-thing." It is a lack of existing. It can only diminish me.

God gives me to myself, right in this moment. And He calls me to Himself.

My joys and sufferings are His infinitely wise, uniquely crafted, and tender love through which He shapes my life and leads me to my destiny.  How little I really understand about my “destiny.”  How little I understand about the “eternal life” which means belonging to Him forever.

We must remember every day that God is with us and that He draws us toward our true identity, which is to reflect His eternal glory in that unique way that corresponds to each of us as a person created in His image and likeness—a reflection that we do not yet understand but that He sees and knows.

No matter the storms and the fury; the depths of our lives are not solitude.  At the heart of life, of every moment of life, there is companionship with the Merciful God.

Homecoming and Friendship

This weekend's annual Homecoming at our college drew me to the post I wrote for last year's Homecoming. I was then prompted to reflect and develop further these (still very incomplete) thoughts about friendship. On a certain level, the things I said last year are a precise "fit" for this past weekend. But my reflections have continued to grow, and so here is a revised post of considerations that are still in progress:

I had some nice visits this weekend with some long-time friends (notice I didn’t say “old” friends). Some were people I had not seen or heard from for many years. Others were people I had not seen for a long time, but whom I have been in touch with in varying degrees through one or more kinds of media. Still others were people I have seen (and keep in touch with) frequently over the past thirty (or more) years

And then, finally, there were the people I see all the time, and who help me in my own life. Especially with them, the pace of daily events often crowds out the simple possibility of "visiting" one another. This is something we hardly realize until some celebration comes along that brings us together gratuitously. This is one of the great values of a celebration.

It is a blessing to be with friends. I marvel with gratitude that my life has been endowed with such real, substantial, and long-lasting friendships. I realize after nearly half a century of life that this is not a common experience in our culture.

But what makes these friendships real? What makes any friendship real? I have found that there are two kinds of enduring friendships, and although both presuppose time spent together, both are based ultimately on something that transcends (even as it enters into) time and space. That “something” is truth.

The first kind of enduring friendship is one that is based on a common search for the truth. These friends may not share the same faith, and may have other disagreements over matters of importance. But they have traveled the road of life together in some way, and have ardently engaged together in seeking the purpose and significance of things.

In these friendships there is a real recognition of “truth,” even if the term is not used, because what unites these friends is their awareness of a common desire for something real, for something that lasts and gives meaning to the events of time and the story of life. It can be a something that is hinted at and reflected through very ordinary experiences that people share, or even in the intuition that corresponds to the harmony they discover with each other through shared interests or sympathy of temperament and perspective.

But for friendship to endure, it is not enough to have “things in common,” or to simply “get along;” there is the enduring theme of a great destination, toward which friends journey–perhaps in the dark, perhaps without knowing the way, perhaps in continual argument over what exactly the destination is, or perhaps simply with the quiet, implicit recognition that it is there and that it draws them onward.

The second kind of enduring friendship is in many ways like the first, but it has another aspect. It is a common journey toward the fulfillment of the truth that has already been encountered. Such friends are often brought together by some particular event or experience they have shared. They have had an encounter with persons and circumstances that seem quite ordinary in themselves, and that might be spread out over a significant period of time. But this apparently ordinary history of place and time and circumstances carries within it the experience of something extraordinary and utterly convincing.

These friends have experienced together something that defines the rest of their lives and that they will never be able to deny without denying themselves. And one often finds that they will be the most odd and unusual sort of companions. One is struck by a great variety of temperaments and preferences, backgrounds, inclinations, and tastes. What binds them together as friends, however, and keeps them together through the years and even through divergent circumstances is this common experience.

And it is not just any experience. It is an encounter with nothing less than the Mystery that gives meaning to all of life, the Mystery that has entered their world and placed them together on a common road. At a certain point in time the truth brought them together, they recognized the truth, they tasted it, they said to one another, “Here is the reason why we live,” they met the truth and were regenerated by it.

Sometimes we forget where we come from. But when we meet our brothers and sisters again, we remember whose children we are, and the home that we are all seeking together. We help each other simply by seeing the different ways in which this awareness has shaped each of us thus far, We recognize--in the various ways that our personalities are maturing, and also in our struggles and failures--the Reality that we still have and still seek in common, even if we haven't seen each other in a long time.

And, of course, we can become great friends with others who have found this same truth under different concrete circumstances, whom we meet further down the road.

All this, however, raises another question: When I encounter the truth of my life, does that mean I can no longer have the "first kind" of friendship? Does it mean that I ought to look down upon those who are still searching, with pity and a sense of superiority? Not at all. Quite the contrary!

The truth of my life is not an abstract theory, which I can master by learning its terms and its logic. The truth of life is a Person. He has not come into my life to end my journey, but to show me where I'm going, to draw me to Him, and to shed light on everything along the way.

This means that my friendship with those who are still seeking the truth can only become more profound. The relationship with Him who is the truth of life can only deepen my appreciation and reverence for every person, and my desire to be their companion. I recognize that I myself am part of the experience of that person's life, through which the Mystery-who-dwells-among-us invites and draws their freedom.

Those of us who know Jesus Christ cannot simply live like a club, or a partisan group that controls truth and that preaches down at others. We are called to stay together as brothers and sisters, but also to dwell with others and share their lives and their sufferings and their searching. He who is "the truth" has us. He is changing us, and He wants us to be living witnesses within the journey of others...with the right words in their proper time, but above all with the love that He generates and shapes according to His particular plan for each person.