At The Pool

Time seems to move more slowly in these long summer days.

The kids are getting some time at the pool. I was out the other day without a hat, and got a bit of sunburn on the top, in that place where there used to be hair.

Josefina, of course, still has to use the kiddy pool. But she can sit at the shallow edge of the big pool if someone is watching her. Here she is with her big brother, the Fish:

Some people are too shy to be photographed at the pool, but not Teresa. She is working hard on learning how to swim:

There are those who would rather be left in peace at poolside, wrapped in royal towels. "If Daddy thinks he's gonna get a smile out of me, he can just forget it!"

"In fact, I'm going to HIDE!"

But Daddy is persistent, and finally Jojo smiles...sort of:

And we all had a lovely afternoon.

Let This Light Shine: The World Meeting Of Families

The World Meeting of Families in Milan this past weekend was a beautiful event. It was one of those things that are really worth reading about. It was a witness to God's truth and love expressed in the family. And it remains as an encouragement to all who struggle to live this truth and love in their own families, a reminder of the precious vocation of marriage and the family, and a reawakening of the desire of families to let this light shine in our suffering world.

Here is the link to the Vatican website. A few things have been translated into English. Especially important is the "Evening of Witness"--the dialogue between the Pope and families on Saturday night:
http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/travels/2012/index_milano_en.htm

Pope Benedict spoke very personally about his own family, and I pray to the Lord that my children might have some taste of this beautiful grace that has so deeply shaped his life:

"We grew up convinced that it was good to be human, because we saw God’s goodness reflected in our parents and our brothers and sisters. And indeed when I try to imagine what Heaven will be like, I think it must be like the time when I was a small boy. In this environment of trust, joy and love, we were happy, and I think that Heaven must be rather like those early years. So in a way, I am hoping to return 'home' when I leave for 'the other part of the world'."

Taking It "Easy"

The Janaros are just taking it easy.

It's like a new experience, after four summers of Eileen commuting to graduate school. Yesterday we all went for a lovely "hike" (really a stroll, proportioned to the smallest legs among us). Today is a day for hanging around. My wife is making a jigsaw puzzle. I don't know how she has the patience for those things, but she clearly does; I am sitting with her, watching her make her puzzle, and I am reading of course. (I wonder, is there such a thing as a "reading addiction"?) The kids are playing outside.

I've had the Kindle for a month now. It's a really useful tool. But I have to say, I love books. They are just so...peculiar, and you have to take what you get in terms of formatting. That's kind of a relief; I don't always like to have the power to dilly-dally with what font and type size I want to use. And--I'll admit--I like fiddling with the pages while I read.

We are going to relax and recreate for a little while. I may even post less on the blog this month. Maybe.

All Our Hope

"May your love be upon us, O Lord, as we place all our hope in you" (from Psalm 33).

The people of Israel knew to place their hope in God. There has never been a human being whom God has not prompted again and again to the relationship of hope. In the vast ages before the coming of Christ, the prompting was for a promise destined to be fulfilled, and the human heart itself--drawn by God's mercy and love--spoke in hidden languages about a longing and a purpose that it did not understand.

Even today, so many hearts--surrounded by walls of ignorance, presuppositions, and misunderstanding--are still drawn by God to speak the secret language of hope.

The plea of the Psalm indicates the object of this hope for all time, and for every person who is seeking in the midst of impossible hindrances, who aspires to a destiny that calls him or her, but who does not know the way:

"May your love be upon us, O Lord...."

Jesus Christ is the love of the Lord who has come "upon us," for each one of us, for each person in the inner depths of his or her originality, and for the whole human race, called to gather together as God's people. Those of us who know His Name pray all the more vividly, "May your love be upon us, O Lord, as we place all our hope in you." Come Lord Jesus, we trust in You. Lead each step of the way, and overcome whatever hinders us. Make us witnesses to Your mercy, so that those who search for a place to put their hope might discover that they have been made for You.

I Believe In The Trinity

Someone recently asked me, "Why do you believe in the Trinity?" I probably could have given a better answer, but in reflecting upon what I said, I think its not entirely off the mark. This is basically what I said, with a few amplifications and additions.

The Trinity is a mystery of faith, and to adhere fully to the Triune God is the work of grace and the gifts of faith, hope, and charity. I believe because I have been given these gifts by the God who wills to save me and bring me to Himself.

This means that I believe in the Trinity because Jesus has loved me. He has revealed the Father's love. He has poured out into my soul the Holy Spirit who is Love. And still, God is One being. God is One, but not "solitary." God is Love. The revelation of God as Infinite Love corresponds to the deepest needs of my humanity, even as it introduces something new into my life, something that draws me to my true destiny, to the reason for which I was created. It is not something that I made up, or ever could have dreamed. It has been revealed in history, and given to me in my life.

I don't just believe in an "idea" about God, fashioned by any human religious ingenuity. I believe because of the fact that God revealed the mysterious truth about Himself, and because this revelation is handed down in the Scriptures and in the tradition of the Catholic Church. Jesus manifested through His life, His miracles, His teaching, and above all by His death and resurrection that He truly brings the definitive revelation from God. He established the Church to continue His presence among us. These singular events in history have the testimony of credible witnesses and/or those who knew them.

It is true that other religions claim to possess the ultimate revelation from God. But other religious leaders have not given any evidence that the God who transcends all things is truly speaking His definitive and final "word" through them. Some of them are human beings who propose to have found a solution to humanity's ardent questions about life's ultimate meaning. They teach some beautiful and remarkable things, but they still express the human search for God; not the Divine "answer." Others, as in the unique history of the people of Israel, are prophets who are given something of the revelation of God, but not its fullness. They themselves testify that the fulfillment is to come from someone after them.

Then there are others who found new religions, and write new scriptures of their own. But they offer no real evidence that they speak for God. They show no evidence that they or their "revelations" represent the transcendent God's intervention in history. God does not back up their claims with any manifestation of His Divine authority.

Some religious leaders claim that the words they have written prove themselves. Their "holy book" is a "miracle in itself," or else there are no witnesses to testify to its miraculous origins. But why do people believe such claims, which can never be verified in any way by reason? I could write a book and claim that it is God's revelation, and if I built strong armies I could force others to accept it as revelation. Or I could develop a slick marketing strategy that manipulates people's hopes, and thereby con them into believing it. But I cannot raise a man from the dead! I cannot do "the works of the Father." Jesus did the "works of the Father" because He came from the Father.

Jesus showed His "divine" credentials. There has never been a man in history like Him. He manifested in Himself the power, the wisdom, and the love of God. When He says, "I and the Father are one" and "I will send you the Spirit from the Father," I believe Him. He has proven in history that He is the One sent by God. No other religious leader has ever been like Him. No one has ever claimed such a divine identity and also performed divine actions with such spontaneity and mastery over nature and the human heart. No one has possessed such a truly miraculous, "out-of-this-world" stature. Other religious leaders sometimes claim that the Christian story of Jesus is "corrupted" and that they have the "real" story about Jesus. But where is the evidence? They make assertions, but they ignore the fact that the Christian event has solid historical testimony. Jesus Christ was (and is) a real man. And no matter how much skepticism is heaped upon Him by scholars, He remains intact, unimaginable, luminous, and compelling. He does more than simply "bring" God's revelation; He is, in Himself, the revelation of God.

And what does He reveal? He reveals that He is the Only Son of the Father, eternally united with Him in the Holy Spirit. He reveals that God is Love, and that God wants to give Himself to me. What reason could I have to say "no" to Infinite Love?

Praise the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, One God who is Love, now and forever. Amen!

Family Is An Ongoing Adventure

We had a happy celebration of John Paul's 15th birthday. He also celebrated the last day of school at Chelsea Academy, where he had an excellent freshman year of high school. We are very proud of him.

Fifteen years. It just doesn't seem possible. In my memory, I feel like I can just walk right into those days when he was born. I can close my eyes and practically inhabit that time, remembering the sights and sounds and smells: He was very late in coming. Eileen and I kept watching videos, and sitting on our old futon couch in the first house, waiting days and days for something to happen. We read our books (I was reading a Faulkner's Light in August, which I finished before he was born). We went out to Washington D.C. to the art museum, hoping that perhaps Beauty might encourage the kid to get moving (by then he was over a week late). We went to an Ethiopian restaurant in Georgetown, mainly because we loved the food, but also joking about our hope that the ancient wisdom and tangy spices of the descendents of King Solomon might be medicinal (Gosh! It's been fifteen years since we've been to an Ethiopian restaurant?? Now that just won't do at all!).

And then, finally, seeing him for the first time, crying and clenching his fists like a little boxer. It's all there in my memory, in a way that is more vital and supple than anything could be on any media device of human invention. It's internal to me, as are all the years that followed--years of being a father (a status that once seemed so strange and new, but that has become fundamental to my character as a human being).

These past fifteen years have been rich with experience and joy and suffering. John Paul has four sisters, Eileen and I have learned much about each other, and marriage, and that Jesus is worthy of our trust even in (especially in) the dark places. We have also learned that being a family is an ongoing adventure. As our kids move into adolescence, we feel like we're becoming parents again for the first time.

In a sense, John Paul is being "born" into adulthood in these years. His physical growth is obvious, but a more profound development is taking place in the soul, the mind, the heart--in his "self-awareness." We have done what we can so that John Paul could grow up knowing that he is loved. We have been far from perfect in this, and we can only trust in the mercy of God to bring good even out of our weakness.

And now we are doing our best to guide him, and to foster an environment in which he can begin to take the first steps of mature freedom.

Fr. Carron recently put it this way: "youth is the time of the You." It is the time for the person to discover that he or she belongs to Another, and to begin to hear the call of that Other. The great energy of freedom awakens to its dramatic possibilities.

For me as a father, it means learning new ways of being present for my child. It means a greater commitment to struggle against the sloth that continually creeps in and inclines me to treat my children as appendages of myself. It means growing in my own awareness of my dependence on the One who has given me this vocation. Day by day, I place my trust in His grace.

The "Visitation" Happens To Each Of Us

Mary had just conceived God in her womb. She had just uttered the great "yes" that made possible the redemption of the human race, and indeed the whole of the cosmos. And then what did she do? She "went with haste" (Luke 1:39) to her kinswoman Elizabeth. She went to be with another person.

No doubt, she realized that she could be of some help to her cousin. But I think she also went to share her joy. She knew from the beginning that what she had consented to receive was a gift for everyone. So she went to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth's child, to share the joy that she bore in her womb. She began her mission, right away, to bring Him to human beings in a particular way: Elizabeth, who acclaimed her and the One she was bearing in words that we pray every day, and Elizabeth's child, who leaped for joy in his mother's womb.

And Mary expressed her own heart, and gave us all the Magnificat. One thing that is clear from this canticle of joy is Mary's self-awareness. Mary knew that her entire identity consisted in belonging to Him. "He who is mighty has done great things to me, and holy is His Name!" Along with her unique vocation as Theotokos, Mary gave witness in an exemplary way to the truth of what it means to be a created human person who is called to participate in God's life.

She called herself "His lowly servant," and this is but an image of a more fundamental self-awareness: she is, because she is His. Her sinlessness and her singular grace (for she was "graced" from the very beginning - she was "the graced one," kecharitomene [Luke 1:28], "full of grace") enabled her to see clearly that "to be a human person" means "to belong completely to Infinite Love," to be always the gift of the One who is "Giving Itself."

And Mary, who knew and always knows herself to be a pure gift, does not hesitate to give herself to others. No one told her to go to Elizabeth. The awareness of being Loved generates love. Just as God gives Mary to herself in creation and grace, and then further gives her Himself in the Incarnation, so Mary in turn gives and gives and gives, and God-made-man comes into the lives of each of us through her.

The "Visitation" happens to each of us. Mary is our Mother. She hears the cry of each of our hearts, and she is tending to our needs long before we even recognize that we have them. We don't have to summon her from some faraway place. She is already with us, because at the heart of God's plan for each of us there is the particular care and the tenderness of a woman.

She is already here. Let us be like Elizabeth. Let us acknowledge her joyfully and allow ourselves to be loved by her, so that we might discover the amazing gift of her Son.

In God's Hands: The Truth Of The Human Person

Today, when I was reading Pope Benedict XVI, I came across this text from a homily given on the feast of the Immaculate Conception in 2005. Here we have expressed again what might be called a "theocentric humanism" - the great doctrinal development in the Church of the truth about the human person and human freedom. This is one of the enduring achievements of Vatican II and a central theme of the magnificent and profound teaching of Blessed John Paul II.

The Church continues to preach the truth about the human person, in a world of people who are so desperate to understand themselves and so vulnerable before the powers of distraction, deception, and ideologies that suffocate the human spirit.

Indeed, the time of the person has come. And through the miracle of Christ's enduring presence in the Church we are prompted to remember who we are.

God's will is not a law for the human being imposed from the outside and that constrains him, but the intrinsic measure of his nature, a measure that is engraved within him and makes him the image of God, hence, a free creature....

The person who abandons himself totally in God's hands does not become God's puppet, a boring "yes man"; he does not lose his freedom. Only the person who entrusts himself totally to God finds true freedom, the great, creative immensity of the freedom of good.

The person who turns to God does not become smaller but greater, for through God and with God he becomes great, he becomes divine, he becomes truly himself. The person who puts himself in God's hands does not distance himself from others, withdrawing into his private salvation; on the contrary, it is only then that his heart truly awakens and he becomes a sensitive, hence, benevolent and open person.

The closer a person is to God, the closer he is to people. We see this in Mary. The fact that she is totally with God is the reason why she is so close to human beings.

For this reason she can be the Mother of every consolation and every help, a Mother whom anyone can dare to address in any kind of need, in weakness and in sin, for she has understanding for everything and is for everyone the open power of creative goodness.

The truth about the human person, with all of our greatness, frailty, and freedom immersed in the drama of the Redemption, is a living reality. We must take it up again and again, and this means that is has to be something intimate, something that does not fly off into abstraction, something that accompanies us.

Here Mary, our Mother, leads us by the hand....

Memorial Day Memories

On this Memorial Day, our family remembers especially the sacrifice of my father's cousin, Ralph Viscount, United States Navy, killed in action during the battle of Okinawa on April 22, 1945. He was directing fire of the No. 3 gun of the USS Isherwood, which was hit directly by a kamikaze. Attempting to shoot down the plane, he remained at his post till the end, and was posthumously awarded the Silver Star.

He was only twenty years old.

Ralph, may your soul, and the souls of all those who have died serving our country, through the mercy of God rest in peace.

My father still remembers the sorrow of his aunt, while her sisters held the telegram in their hands. It is difficult to imagine what this must be like. A young man, so full of life. Her son. We must not forget all the mothers who suffered too.

Throughout history, mothers have borne the cost of war. Indeed, a mother's pain hardly ends with the birth of her child. Her love endures always, and when she is called to make sacrifices she can reveal great depths of strength and courage.

I remember Ralph's mother very well, my great aunt Florie. By then, she had endured many other tragedies in her life, but I remember her as full of hospitality, and kind to her great nephews and nieces who loved to explore her big old house, with all of its mysterious closets and secret passages.

And there was always food. All the flavors of southern Italy that my father's family brought with them from the prior generation. Oh, the food....

When I published my first book, many years ago, my aunt Florie got a copy and read it. I received a beautiful letter from her expressing her appreciation, and also a sense of "pride" in my small achievement. I was surprised, and honored that she remembered me and cared about me in her very venerable old age. I thought I was just one of the rugrats who used to run around her house.

We may have to face trials and even tragedies in our time. I hope and pray that we will have the strength, the courage, and the magnanimity of our forebears.

The Sweet Song of Love

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein) - who is well known for her philosophical work, her important contributions to a deeper understanding of the authentic dignity and vocation of women, and her martyrdom at Auschwitz - was also a profound poet, in the true Carmelite tradition. Here are my two favorite stanzas of her prayer-poem to the Holy Spirit, which I post in honor of this glorious feast day. May the Holy Spirit fill us anew with His grace and His mercy, and give us a foretaste of eternal life, that we might run more swiftly and surely toward the embrace of Divine Wisdom and Love.

Who are you, sweet light, that fills me
And illumines the darkness of my heart?
You lead me like a mother's hand,
And should you let go of me,
I would not know how to take another step.
You are the space
That embraces my being and buries it in yourself.
Away from you it sinks into the abyss
Of nothingness, from which you raised it to the light.
You, nearer to me than I to myself
And more interior than my most interior
And still impalpable and intangible
And beyond any name:Holy Spirit eternal love!...

Are you the sweet song of love
And of holy awe
That eternally resounds around the triune throne,
That weds in itself the clear chimes of each and every being?
The harmony,
That joins together the members to the Head,
In which each one
Finds the mysterious meaning of his being blessed
And joyously surges forth,
Freely dissolved in your surging:
Holy Spirit eternal jubilation! 

To read the entire poem, go to: http://www.ewtn.com/Devotionals/novena/Stein_spirit.htm#ixzz1w6UCvUiH

Luigi Giussani's Cause: We Have a Prayer

The approved prayer for the cause for the beatification of Msgr. Luigi Giussani was recently presented in English at the annual Spiritual Exercises of the Fraternity of Communion and Liberation. The beauty and dignity of the prayer itself testifies to the extraordinary life and witness of this great apostle of our epoch. It is my hope that history will remember him as one of the founding inspirations of the "New Evangelization."

Merciful Father,
we thank You for having given
Your Church and the world 
the Servant of God Father Luigi Giussani.

He, with his life lived with passion,
taught us to know and love Jesus Christ
present here and now,
to ask Him with humble certainty 
that "the beginning of every day
be a yes to the Lord
who embraces us
and makes fruitful the soil of our heart
for the accomplishment
of His work in the world,
which is the victory over death and evil."

Grant, O Father,
through the intercession of Fr. Giussani,
according to Your will,
the grace we implore,
in the hope that he will soon be numbered
among Your saints.

Through Christ, our Lord. Amen

Veni Sancte Spiritus.
Veni per Mariam.

Summer is Coming Soon

School is winding down for our bunch. The Montessori school year is over, although the girls do additional study in the home environment. Or perhaps I should say, three of the girls study. And in fact, Teresa (pictured there at the school) needs lots of encouragement - sometimes all through the day - to get her tasks done. She is bright, though. Sometimes she will ask a question about God or the world, and we will have an interesting conversation. But I'll save that for another post.

Josefina is now something of a free agent. She has a whole shelf full of her own activities, and she continues to learn to read and write. But right now she has more "Daddy time" than ever. I won't exactly say that she thinks the purpose of my existence is to provide her with entertainment (when she feels like it). She does many things on her own, but of course she always wants me to see her accomplishments. Several times a day she comes fluttering over the space that I call my "home office" and says, "Daddy, what are we gonna do?" My nose is deep into some book, trying to pinpoint how Ratzinger/Benedict understands the communion of persons, and how it enters into the relationship of the human being to God. She certainly keeps it all from becoming too abstract. But I do need to dedicate some time to the mental work.

Me: "Honey, I need to work on this right now. We'll do something later."

Her: "Can you read that book to me?"

Me: "You won't like this; it's hard to understand."

Her: "Will you read me childrens' books?" She is very persistent.

Me: "I'll read to you later in the afternoon. Find something to work on right now. Make one of those puzzles."

That often works. Josefina can't always have her way. She's already spoiled enough. But she's also very resourceful, and never really has a reason to be bored. And she certainly doesn't lack attention from me. Of course, she misses her friends from school.

I miss the school too. I miss the rhythm of the week, the interaction with Eileen's class and with the other great people on the John XXIII Montessori Childrens Center staff (check out the website if you want to get some idea of the program[s] at the Center: http://www.john23mcc.org/3DayAWeek.cfm). I feel like a part of the Montessori Center; I am participating in this educational adventure that really has something to offer. I can see its impact on my own kids and others. Its a beautiful thing. When I'm in my wife's classroom (which is elementary level), I feel like I myself could spend hours working with the materials and learning new things.

Meanwhile, John Paul is still in school until the beginning of June. He has to take his final exams covering the whole ninth grade year. Gosh, I don't remember finals in ninth grade. This is the beginning of a short but very intense period for him. So far he's met the challenges, and we are confident that he will come through this just fine. And now, Agnese is applying for Chelsea for next year. She has graduated from the elementary level Montessori. I was proud to see her maturity and leadership by example in the classroom this past year. Lucia still has another year in the elementary program. I love to watch her use the math resources. She's very good at math!

We have some fun plans for the summer, and also some time for Mommy to relax. Meanwhile, we have to wrap up the school year, find homes for the kittens, and get ready for John Paul's 15th (!) birthday.

And everyone needs lots of love. Sometimes I have to correct Josefina, and I can't always hide the impatience from my stern voice.

Her: "Don't be mad at me."

Me: "I'm not mad at you, but I want to make sure you understand that what I'm saying is important" [said in stern and slightly impatient voice].

Her: "You're a little bit mad at me...."

The Spirit's Gifts: Let Him Lead The Way

I know I need above all to pray for the grace to let God have His way in my life. So I pray for wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, fortitude, piety and the fear of the Lord. The Holy Spirit gives His gifts to every Christian, and through them we grow in the likeness to God, which is our vocation. Each one of us is called to become “godlike”—that is our destiny, to “participate” in the life of God. We know that it is here that our ultimate happiness lies, but God alone knows what our true destiny really “looks” like (“eye hath not seen…”). So we must let Him lead the way....

I only see the surface of my life. Deep down, God is working a wonder, and the means He is using penetrate my whole life with its joys and sorrows, and all that is yet unknown....

What God wants for me is so much more, so much greater, so much more glorious and joyful, than what I think I want for myself. In eternity, we shall see all and rejoice in all. Here, we see through that dark glass called faith. Sometimes it is very dark, but we must trust God to give us what we need to sustain hope, and to grow in the capacity to respond to His mysterious Love with our own self-abandoning love.

From my book Never Give Up: My Life and God's Mercy (http://t.co/ddwYeqX)

Stuffed Yellow Ducky

It is the afternoon. Right now as I type these words, I am hunched over my laptop and trying to peer at the screen. Why am I in this ridiculous position?

Josefina is sitting on my back.

She just came over with her little bag of activities and I guess I was already bent over...so she sat right down. Should I let her get away with this?

Well, I've been hunched over this laptop for a few hours now, researching a couple of theological topics. This was not wasting time; it was serious work. No work seems more worthwhile to me now than the patient and attentive study of Josef Ratzinger, whose theological wisdom is slowly becoming the patrimony of the whole Church. I marvel at how the Holy Spirit, in His own time, continues to unfold in the heart of the Church all the riches of continuity and authentic renewal that constitute the great grace of the Second Vatican Council.

Perhaps I'll offer another lecture series this summer. It's been three years since I did a seminar.

Since then I've published a book, had a relapse, climbed out of it, and began exploring the world of electronic media. All the while, I have read extensively; I have covered the histories of Poland, the Habsburg monarchy, and modern France. I have fought the Napoleonic wars, observed the movements of the Balkans, and suffered with the Poles. Of course, the shadow of Russia was everywhere.

All of this historical study is driven by my desire to understand that mysterious "fault line" that runs through the heart of Europe, that separates "East" and "West." The deep secrets of the tragedy continue to elude me, but I have learned enough to know that we must all pray for a great healing.

Josefina is gone now, but I'm still hunched over. She left her stuffed yellow ducky with me. She probably thinks I need company.

I think I need to take a break!

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.