More Josefinology

Josefina comes over to my big brown chair and just perches herself on the edge, which is her unspoken way of saying, "scoot over." Then she sits herself in the small space that I can still clear for her. She still fits in that spot, which means she's the only one of the children who can sit on my chair -- and only when I'm in it.

The other kids aren't really jealous, because they're too old to sit "with Daddy" (well, I do let Teresa sit on the arm every so often). What they would really like is to sit in the chair by themselves, but I have forbidden it. We've had this chair for over three years and we're trying to make it last. That means it has to be a "no fly zone," reserved strictly for me... and little people who are sneaky and a little spoiled by Daddy and, above all, implacably determined.

Josefina is six now, but still so little. Nevertheless there's a lot going through her little head. So the other day she sits next to me and says...

Josefina: "When we get our bodies back, will we have bones?"

She's talking about our resurrected bodies, of course, that are reunited with our souls at the end of history, when Jesus establishes God's kingdom in all its fullness. She thinks about this stuff -- body and soul and death and how it all "works." Even when she was four she had questions like this.

But this particular question I don't understand. Bones? Why wouldn't we have bones?

Me: "Of course we'll have bones. We'll have our whole human bodies." 

In fact, she does have something very specific in mind.

Her: "But how will we be able to go through walls if we have bones?"

Haha! Interesting question. Jojo's has obviously learned (in Atrium perhaps?) about that quality of the resurrected and glorified body that is called subtlety. Our bodies will be like the risen body of Jesus, who passed unhindered into the upper room on Easter, who "came and stood among" the disciples even though they were hiding behind locked doors. She's trying to figure out how that could be done. Maybe without bones the body might be squshy enough to get through. But what about bones?

Me: "Oh no, that won't be a problem. Our bodies will be greater than any physical objects in the New Creation. We will be transformed people living in a transformed world."

Her: "So we can start walking and just go anywhere?"

Me: "We can go anywhere right away, just by wanting to." Now, of course, we're talking about the property of agility.

Her: "But can we walk anywhere?"

Me: "Well, if we want to walk somewhere, sure. We can walk."

Her: "And keep walking?"

Me: "Wherever we want."

Her: "And we can go through anything?"

Me: "Anything, if its God's will."

Her: "But we don't go through other people!"

Hmmm. That's another question. Will we have some kind of corporeal circumincession, some communial indwelling that involves also (in some way) our glorified bodies "in Christ," such that there will be a unity that preserves the uniqueness of each one? Something completely unimaginable? I can't think of it without feeling like I'm venturing into the weird zone. I don't know. Images fail me utterly. But they are never adequate, because "eye hath not seen...." 

Josefina certainly can't imagine it.

"Not other people," she says decisively. "That would be disgusting!"

It seems like a big mix up, in our minds, which is gross to imagine.

Even worse if we have bones!

"Rules for Interacting on Social Media"... by St. Ignatius!

St. Ignatius working on his blog. 

I've been doing some research on St. Ignatius of Loyola for an article I'm writing (part of a series I'm working on for a popular magazine that will appear next year).

The man blows. me. away. Of course, as is so often the case with the teaching of the saints, I feel overwhelmed. When it comes to holiness, I am just NOT THERE.

May God have mercy on me for presuming to say anything about Him.

Lets listen to Ignatius. He's the real deal. The early Jesuits compiled several collections of "sayings" from his letters. As I was going through these, several of them struck me as relevant to the interaction so common among us, particularly in what I like to call the "Catholosphere" (haha).

Of course these apply to any kind of human discourse, but they have particular importance for those of us who think we have something to say that will "help" our brothers and sisters. And they are excellent points to remember when we are engaged in the awkward, disembodied conflicts that often arise on the Social Media.

And so, without further comment, here are some Rules For Communication on Social Media (and everywhere else)... by St. Ignatius:

"[A] good Christian has to be more ready to justify than to condemn a neighbor’s statement. If no justification can be found, one should ask the neighbor in what sense it is to be taken, and if that sense is wrong he or she should be corrected lovingly. Should this not be sufficient, one should seek all suitable means to justify it by understanding it in a good sense" (from the Spiritual Exercises).

"We should be slow to speak and patient in listening to all men.... Our ears should be wide open to our neighbor until he seems to have said all that is in his mind."

"[In seeking to help our neighbor] we should not move straight to what is highest and most perfect, but proceed slowly and gently, from lower things to higher."

"We must adapt ourselves to people's capacities. Try to pour too much at once into a narrow-necked bottle, and you will just spill it and fail to get it inside."

"When, as is but human, errors are committed by others, you should see in them, as in a mirror, some deformity that needs removing in yourself."

"Beware of condemning any man’s action. Consider your neighbor’s intention, which is often honest and innocent, even though his act seems bad in outward appearance."

"If your neighbor’s sin is so manifest that you cannot in honesty excuse it, blame not the sinner but the violence of his temptation, remembering that you yourself might have fallen as badly or even worse."

"Love even the most abandoned: love whatever faith in Christ remains in them: if they have lost this, love their virtues; if these have gone, love the holy likeness they bear, love the blood of Christ through which you trust they are redeemed."

Extrovert, Introvert, or What?

Would an introvert let anyone see this picture?

There's been a fad bopping around the internet recently. Maybe its not so recent, but in any case I have recently noticed it. People are identifying various aspects of their personality, sometimes by taking quick online versions of the Mertz-Dorkheimer screening test, or some other test.

The results of these tests are condensed into an acronym that folks then proceed to toss about on their blogs, or Twitter, or Facebook or wherever, which makes them sound very sophisticated and makes me very confused because I don't know what any of these acronyms mean.

Sometimes I see a post like this: "Well, I've been acting like a typical IHMT recently. But we have our particular needs, you know!"

Oh, I see. Yes, I know. "Thumbs up," and all that.

What the heck are they talking about? I have no idea, but of course I'm not going to admit that. I'm out for a promenade in the main square of the global village. We all know what the acronyms mean, of course.

Maybe I should google the "Hamburger-Fries person preferential assessment test" so that I'll know more. I can even take the test myself. ...

Okay, it seems that I'm a strong LMKNT person. Wow, that's true. I could get into this! (See if you can figure out the acronym before I reveal it at the end of this post.)

Really, I should know about these things. For years now, my personality has been the object of scientific study, and scientific experimentation (of course they don't call it that; they call it "treatment," hahaha). I've taken lots of assessment tests. My favorite tool for clinical behavioral analysis has always been this one:

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?

This test is one of the great achievements of science in our time. Everybody can find themselves in one or a combination of those faces, in any given moment. Its brilliant. I understand this test. But the ones with verbal questions tend to get me confused. Do I want to be at the big party or on a quiet beach with a book? I'm not sure. I need more details.

I don't seem to fit into any box.

There's the basic and very popular distinction between "introvert" and "extrovert" -- websites have gotten into posting lists, cartoons, and memes about introverts and extroverts.

"When extroverts see a person, they assume that he or she wants to have a conversation." Well of course. I assume that. Doesn't everybody?

"Introverts like to be alone and read books." Well that's me for sure. Sometimes I've thought that solitary confinement wouldn't be so bad... as long as I could bring a few books.

I am always thinking, reflecting, and empathizing from the moment my eyes open. Sometimes when Eileen is sitting quietly with a cup of coffee, I ask her, "What are you thinking about?" and she says, "Nothing."

Nothing.

Wow! How do you do that!? Oh, I would trade mountains of gold for the ability to think about "nothing"! What bliss! What a blessed relief!

Of course, I realize that she's not talking about some kind of vacuous state of emptiness. She's just relaxing. The closest I get to "relaxing" is thinking about Josef Pieper's book on leisure.

I must be an extrovert. Right?

I can also sit in a room full of people and completely tune them out. I can focus my attention on something I'm reading, or even something I'm working out in my mind, and be oblivious. Screaming babies all around me? Oblivious. "Here come the bride and groom?" Everybody stands and claps and I'm... oblivious.

Am I an introvert?

They say that writers are introverts. A writer is a person who thrives on solitude. I do love solitude. I love getting up early in the morning, when the house is quiet, when the rest of the world is quiet. I pray. I reflect on the themes that will eventually become words on a page (or a screen). I go for a walk. Alone.

But when I actually work, I like to be in the middle of things. In college and graduate school, I wrote my papers in the commons or the lounge. Concentration was not a problem. In fact, I seem to do it best when I'm surrounded by the sounds of life. And I don't mind being interrupted, whether its just to say hello or to break off and have a conversation.

During my teaching years, I offered additional "office hours" for students... in the lounge or the coffee shop! Not only because its a fact that a lot of good teaching goes on in those places, but also because I like being where the people are.

At home, I do not have a "man cave". I have a "man campground" in one corner of the living room. I have my stuff, my chair, my table, my gadgets, and the 235 books that I'm "currently" reading. Eileen tolerates my corner; it is yet another small but heroic sacrifice that she makes, another one of my quirks that she bears patiently as she grows daily in virtue and holiness. ;)

I love the busy atmosphere of the living room, although I admit that I usually retreat to the bedroom at some point in the afternoon for some "quiet reading" (which usually includes a nap).

I don't feel the need to go out seeking people, but I like to be where people are, especially if they are people I know. Extrovert? Introvert? Neither one, it seems to me. I guess that's where the acronyms come in. I'm an EI or an IE. Whatever "alpha" is, I am not that. IEPDQLOL?

I guess I won't know until I take one of those "Wiener-Schnitzel experimental classification" tests. Sounds yummy!

Ah, I almost forgot, here's the meaning of the other acronym... Lettuce Mayonnaise Ketchup No Tomato. Seriously, do you want my tomato?

I Don't Care What Anyone Says: ITS STILL SUMMER!

Early morning walks, bright, sunny and still cool

I don't care what anyone says: its still summer!

I don't care that our older kids (three of them now) are starting at Chelsea academy next week. I don't care that the "kids" of some friends are leaving for college this weekend. I don't care that its almost time for football's regular season to begin.

I'm not ready yet.

The Montessori Center starting date is still a couple of weeks away, but things are already gearing up over there with unpacking for the new location, parent conferences, and planning. Mrs. Janaro is plenty busy these days.

But we've had fun this summer. Although we didn't make any trips, we've had several visitors. We've also had some time to hang around as a family. With John Paul turning 16, it may be the last summer in which all the kids are still kids. John Paul and Agnese can still be dragged down by their younger sisters to the level of participating in a five part whirling chase throughout the house. But Josefina is also old enough to stay up late so we can all watch a video together.

We had Agnese's Confirmation in June:

The Newly Confirmed with her parents and our beloved bishop
and"Someone-Else-Who-Wanted-to-be-in-the Picture-too"!

The Fourth of July:

A patriotic Teresa

And sparkler fun for John Paul too!

And everybody relaxing:

Ungarded moments....

Very laid back.

And Nationals baseball in August (they lost):

It looked closer in real life. Honestly....

But we still had lots of fun (annual baseball couple picture)

I'm not ready for summer to end. In any case, this blog will probably remain "lazy" through the end of this month. Still, I'm looking forward to the Fall, to the new John XXIII Center and my continuing role as "resident scholar and resource consultant," and also to the High School adventures of the teens, including girls' volleyball matches.

The melancholy cloud of mournful nostalgia that usually covers this time of year for me doesn't seem to be around. I don't mind so much that "school is starting but I am not teaching." That's not to say I wouldn't love to be teaching, if I had the strength for it.

I do have the strength for the matters at hand, for what is given to me now. And I'm open to surprises.

The Church: Jesus Remains With Us

God chose a moment of history--a particular place and time--to enter into an inconceivable solidarity with the human race by becoming one of us in Jesus Christ. God gives Himself in the particular life, death and resurrection of Jesus -- but it is not only a gift for the immediate disciples of Jesus or for the human race of the first century; He gives Himself so as to be an offering for each and every person of every place and time. Jesus desires with all the ardor of His heart to be present as the Word who has become flesh, and who continues to dwell among us even today.

This is what the Church is all about. Jesus. He remains present among us through the Church.

This means that Jesus has taken the "risk" of putting Himself in the hands of sinful human beings so that He can continue to give Himself to us twenty centuries later, in a concrete way. He has promised that He will reach us today through the Church. We trust Christ in His Church.

Even if many of His representative are great sinners, He has promised that we will always find Him in the Church, and He has established the means whereby He makes good on this promise. Thus Christ reaches us in the sacraments and makes Himself present for us in the Eucharist, even if the minister -- His human instrument -- is unworthy to represent Him.

We must never forget this. It is not a matter of an omnipotent, merely human priesthood conjuring Christ by some magical incantation. It is a matter of His sovereign determination to be with and to give Himself to you and me in the space and time and reality of our lives through human gestures that take place in our world today--gestures which are guaranteed to have value for our lives because it is He who performs them through His ministers.

The value of the sacraments and their meaning for our lives is founded on the presence and action of Jesus Christ, not the merits or worthiness of those He uses as instruments. He is present in His Church, and it is always to Him we adhere. Even as we recognize that He comes to us through other men, we trust Him, and we know that He will not deny Himself to us because of their weaknesses and limitations. This is the promise that Christ in the sacraments has made to every human being who seeks Him.

We Have a Mother Who Loves Us

We're in Mary's "week" -- the octave of days between the great feast of the Assumption and the feast of August 22, the feast of the Queenship of Mary (which is not a Holy Day of Obligation, but that doesn't mean that a person trying to follow Jesus in the Church should just ignore it).

Mary, our Merciful Mother. I love Mary, although I feel like lately I've taken her a little bit for granted. I'm praying for her intercession and entrusting myself to her as much as ever, with my words (and I hope with something of my poor heart too). But I'm forgetting to let her maternal heart, her tenderness, shape me as a person. I'm forgetting that I need her maternal love to heal me and help bring my life together.

Mary brings healing. She's my Mother, and her presence reminds me that I am a little child, always. What is fifty years of life in front of the mystery of God and the whole drama of the history of salvation? I'm a child, still so recently born, still in need of everything, stumbling, falling, and being rescued from danger countless times without even knowing it. My true eloquence is still the cry of a baby, and it is a mother that hears and feels the person inside that cry: the person that I am, and that I am called to be in her Son.

And the mother knows that I am still so very small.

We can too easily "forget" about Mary. Thank God, she is such a good mother that she never forgets about us. Still, her heart has so much affection for us, and so much wisdom to instruct us, and she has been gifted with the particular secret of who each of us is called to be.

We need to just draw closer to her. She brings Jesus and us together in all the impenetrable details of life. God was born of a woman, and then He gave that woman to us. She is our Mother.

She is a good mother. Lets just go to her and be children. She will teach us how to walk and how to grow strong with the strength that comes from knowing that we are loved, and that we do not need to be afraid.

Mary, merciful and loving mother, help me!

The Person You Will Me to Be

Father in heaven,
through the merciful heart of Your Son Jesus,
crucified and risen from the dead for our salvation,
and by the grace of Your Holy Spirit,
make me
the man,
the husband,
and the father
that You will me to be.

Bless my wife and our marriage,
our children,
and our home.

Bless my whole family,
my work,
and all those You have entrusted to me
in various ways.

Make me
the son and brother,
the teacher,
writer,
friend,
and mentor
that You will me to be.

Give me the grace to see
that every human being I meet
and interact with this day
is a person,
created in Your image and likeness,
created for love,
and deserving of nothing less from me
in every circumstance,
in whatever forum;
a person whose dignity is worthy
of recognition and reverence,
honor and service,
openness and respect,
solidarity and compassion.

Lord, have mercy on me.
Have mercy on us and on the whole world.

On Being a "Good" Father

Giving the kids important lessons about life

Its hard to be a father. Or, rather, its hard to be a good father. I've told lots of funny stories about our family, and a few painful stories. We have faced some notable obstacles with health issues, but (as I have often emphasized) many "ordinary people" endure such things. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that our family life is mostly ordinary... and flawed.

For me, the day-to-day responsibilities of fatherhood all too often end up engendering a bunch of mistakes. I don't give the kids enough attention, or I speak rudely, or I'm too demanding, or (more often) I'm too lenient, or I get impatient, or I get snarky, or I deal with them in the mode of what-do-I-need-to-do-to-get-this-annoying-distracting-person-out-of-my-face, or I join in with their goofy games and forget to enforce basic family rules like DON'T JUMP ON THE COUCH, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I'm sure my wife could draw up a longer list. Any Mom reading this knows (and puts up with) the standard DadFails every day.

Its just the standard, ordinary stuff. There's much more on the positive side (I hope). Really, I'm a "good Dad." But I need to be better. I need to grow.

I want so much to love my children more, and I truly believe that there are abundant graces from God that make it possible fulfill the vocation of being a Christian and human father. God loves my children with an infinite love, and He wants to show them one of the foundational signs of His love through me. This is an awesome task which is beyond my natural powers as a human being and as a man.

Remembering my own fatherhood helps me to see my total need for healing and grace.

The illusion of self-sufficiency and self-satisfaction can be difficult to break, and it is very easy to ignore God's presence (and even His existence) as long as we live inside the bubble of this illusion. But one way God awakens us and draws our hearts is through our children.

If we allow ourselves to love our children, we open ourselves up to the awareness of our own vulnerability. Children remind us again and again that we are not the ones who control reality. If we truly care about our children--if we let them burst the bubble of our self-centeredness--we are going to experience how much we need God.

Being a father reminds me that I need to pray.

I want my kids to discover and to grow in the awareness of the fact that God is their Father. I want them to know that their Daddy on earth is called to "help" them to experience in a more intimate way this true Fatherhood, this tremendous Love that gives them to themselves each moment, in His image, and calls them to be His children forever.

I can't fulfill my vocation without remembering continually that God is my Father too. He has made us all His children by giving us our lives, and by giving us His life in Jesus.

Holy Bar-Be-Cue!!!

Jesus has suffered for all of us, and suffers in all of us. He is the reason why redemption and glory are destined to rise up out of our own suffering, if we adhere to Him in faith, hope, and love. It doesn't usually "feel" this way when we are going through difficulties and pain.  But in the life of the Church, God has given us signs that suffering has indeed been transformed. For example, some saints have experienced the marvel of an ecstatic and wholly supernatural joy—a kind of anticipation of glory—that penetrates the heart of suffering itself.

Such joy—the foretaste of glory—is a kind of miracle, a special gift of grace. It is given to chosen souls. It lights the way for us all. We can see radical examples of this miracle of ecstasy and glory in the ancient accounts of the early Christian martyrs.

The history of the church in Rome during the great persecutions includes the story of the martyrdom of St. Lawrence, whose luminous courage comes down to us through the ages in the form of an unconquerable (and profound) sense of irony and wit. When compelled by the authorities to surrender "the treasures of the church," Lawrence appeared in the presence of the magistrates with a crowd of poor people, proclaiming that "these are the treasures of the Church."

Later on, the story tells us that—as he was being roasted alive on a grill—Lawrence joked to his executioners, “You can turn me over. I’m done on this side”! In the spirit of this transcendent humor, the Christian people honor St. Lawrence as the patron of cooks—this is not a crude analogy, but a recognition in the heart of the Church that the triumph of the Cross penetrates all the way to the details of ordinary life.

The joy of St. Lawrence is a sign for us, not unlike the Transfiguration was for Jesus’s disciples. It is a flash of eternity in the memory of God’s People, reminding them of the real truth of the things of time.

He Gives Himself First

With Christ I am nailed to the cross. It is now no longer I that live, but Christ lives in me. And the life that I now live in the flesh, I live in the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me (Galatians 2:19-20).

This is Christian life.

What can I add to this? I have been dwelling on this text recently. What happened on the Cross? He intervened, definitively, in my life. He did something completely new, so new that it changes who I am. He identified Himself with me, to the point of even taking on my sins, from which He sets me free in the mystery of His love.

He loved me and gave Himself up for me. We should read these words every day. He loved me and gave Himself up for me. What is this "me" that He loves so much? Weakness. Selfishness. But then He takes hold of my life at its roots. Where I am helpless He comes with the love and the gift of Himself, He the Son of God. He claims my life, in order to become the source of something new.

He asks me to let Him embrace me and become a source of new life--a life that is beyond the selfish prison of an "I" that struggles to find meaning in itself, alone. He breaks down the wall that separates me from the God that He is, the God that my "I" was created to live "for"--and this living for Him means that my self is opened up to Him. I am no longer alone. He lives in me.

How can this be? What does it mean? I live in the faith of the Son of God. I live a vital, obedient faith, full of hope, love, and trust because He has loved me.

He has found me, He has given Himself to me, He has made it possible for me to recognize Him and live for Him. The Christian "I" lives in a relationship of self-abandonment to Jesus Christ, a relationship made possible because He gives Himself first.

Hands, Voice, Mind, Heart

The Rosary. We cry out to God with our profound existential crises, and then the Blessed Mother comes and says, "Pray the Rosary."

"But I'm confused about why I even exist. Does God even care?"

Wait. You're a human being who is distracted and broken by nature, and you're beaten up in your interior life, your perspective, your anticipations and fears by many bruising years of experience. You're carrying the consequences of your mistakes, of being manipulated by other people, and also all the flaws and disappointment woven into even your most cherished relationships.

"But I believe in Christ. Why am I such a mess? And not just me. The whole parish is a mess. The priests...gosh! Holiness? We're called to holiness, really? It seems like a joke...."

You got hands?

"What does that have to do with anything?"

You need to use your hands. Your fingers. Start with your fingertips. Take the beads.

Hands, voice, mind, heart.

Use your hands and your voice, and do the best you can with your mind, and Jesus and Mary will give you the heart. Take a journey through the Gospels with Jesus and Mary. Ponder the moments of His life. Be patient with yourself because your mind will wander a lot. Just do it, and try to do better. Try to do it even a little bit better?

You have the crucifix and images for you eyes. Let Jesus in. Let Him come in through those tired senses... those senses that have endured so much affliction.

Let Jesus and Mary bring you healing and peace.

Pray the Rosary.

Self-Inflicted Violence: It Doesn't Always Meet the Eye

I beat myself up all the time. Does that sound scary? Yet you won't find cuts or scars or bruises on my body. No... as is so often the case, I'm talking about something I do inside my head.

I think its important to take seriously the metaphor of "beating ourselves up" mentally and emotionally over our own real or perceived failures. These metaphors resonate for reasons that are deeper than we may realize.

Mentally ill people can develop even compulsive forms of interior violence, and repetitive psychological self injury. This can be even more crippling than visible, external self-inflicted violence, although I think the two often go together in life circumstances and illnesses other than my own.

Whatever the nature of the behavior, we need to become more aware of how damaging (and how potentially dangerous) it is to "beat up on ourselves."

I am not a medical doctor or a therapist. I am just a "patient" who has lived with my own mental illness for more than 40 years. All I can do is share what I have learned, what has helped me in my own struggles. And I have certainly learned that beating up on myself is very bad thing. Neurological dysfunctions in the brain can give rise to dark and distorted perceptions or feelings of doubt, which then strive to articulate themselves as compulsive thoughts and emotions.

This can break out into a cycle of interior self abuse that is not only painful, but that causes me to withdraw from my responsibilities and from others who need me. I know that I must try my best to break this cycle, by turning to God in prayer, certainly, but also by sticking with my medications, watching what I eat, following my routine, managing stress, exercising, using cognitive therapy, and relying on people who can help me get back into focus and stay there.

I have never been able to think my way out of this. Help comes from outside, and no degree of illness can take away the personal responsibility that I have to be receptive, to struggle to be open to the help that I cannot give myself.

I know that there are many people who don't worry about much of anything, and who would benefit from a good dose of sober self-criticism (n.b. sober, which means balanced, measured, realistic). And we all feel guilty and ashamed at times simply because we've done something wrong. This is normal and good. But its something entirely different from a pathological and constant interior assault that is all out of proportion to any fault, that seems to block out goodness and that leads to discouragement.

Don't give in to this. Move away from it, even if all you can manage is an inch. Do it one inch at a time. And search for anything that helps you to draw out of yourself. If some of those helps begin with "psych," don't be ashamed of that. Its awkward terminology, but when properly applied these "helps" encompass both corporal and spiritual works of mercy. And we all need mercy. 

It is essential to people with mental illness to remember that God loves them just as they are, and that they must learn to love themselves, to be kind to themselves, and to turn their energies outward in constructive ways. And they must not be ashamed that they need help from others.

From my own experience I can say: It is possible to live in a relationship with God, with joy and patience, and constructive engagement of work and relationships, even with chronic depression, bi-polar, OCD, and other neurobiologically based disorders. It is also possible to be healed greatly from much self inflicted personal damage.

It is an ongoing process, and you can't do it alone. You need help.

Love in the Spaces of Darkness

We cause pain to people we love. We all do this to one another. We hurt one another. Even when we are trying our best to avoid doing this, it still happens. This is not to say that we shouldn't try our best. The harder we try, the less pain we cause to those we love, and the more we forgive, the more we are healed of the wounds that we have received.

We must try our best. We must struggle with this. God is calling us here. Jesus says, "Love one another." Still, we must not be discouraged by the fact that we fail so much. We must get up and keep loving, and offer our weakness to God's mercy, trusting in His healing power that works in often hidden ways, but always with perfect wisdom, understanding, and compassion for who we are and for those we love.

God doesn't answer all our questions. He doesn't explain the deep paths of His mercy that is always at work in our lives. He asks us to trust Him.

He allows us to endure the profound pain of not being able to understand one another in so many ways. Our effort to love one another in this present life remains (in some ways) like climbing a mountain in the dark. We keep bumping into the rocks. We keep bumping into each other. In the darkest moments of this journey, however, God remains with us. He enables us to get up again and again, and to help one another, to forgive one another, and to keep going forward.

God is at work in the darkest places. Each of us must believe that Jesus died for me. "The Son of God loved me and gave Himself for me" (see Galatians 2:20). God is closest to us in our suffering, and He enables us to go forward and grow in love. As Pope Francis keeps saying, He never abandons us.

He stays with us and endures that "space of darkness" that we so often experience in our relationships with one another, that "space" full of pain and failure and vulnerability and resentment and guilt. That space of darkness that remains even with all of our efforts to love each other. That space of loneliness that we cannot fill up in ourselves and that we will never totally fill or satisfy in those we love.

We have been made for Him, and we need Him -- each of us individually, and in our relationships with one another. We need Him, and He has come to be with us, and His love is always greater.

Jesus on the Cross. For you. For me. For us together. For the world.

He is with us, with such tenderness, with total understanding and compassion, and He wants us to depend on Him.

We don't have to "understand" this. We don't have to feel this. We must trust in Him.

He hears our cry in the darkness. And when we fall and are in pain, we must believe that He is with us even though we can't see Him, and we must cry out to Him to lift us up.

Jesus, I trust in You.

The Maternal Womb of Mercy

We've seen this picture many times. Over three million people gathered on the beach of Copacabana this morning for the final Mass of World Youth Day in Brazil.

This "World Youth Day" has lasted a week, and has allowed the world to see Papa Francisco speaking and acting as a pastor in the part of the world he knows so very well.

For Pope Francis, this is not just a statistic, or a crowd. These are people. These are human persons. Most are formed by the Catholic heritage and the social ambivalence of the Latin American experience. Their hearts must make real choices today, in an environment that holds forth many possibilities but also turns in so many ways to open violence and destruction.

In a lifetime of caring for these people, Papa Bergoglio has learned much wisdom about the heart of every human person, the drama of every human life that is weighted down with so many troubles, pulled on by so many forces, afflicted by so many illusions, and yet called -- in a continual, mysterious, and implacable way  -- by the love of God in Jesus Christ which is beyond all measure.

He expressed this wisdom in a stunning fashion during his meeting yesterday with the bishops of Brazil. Here especially he has given a reflection that captures his passionate conviction of how the Church (i.e. the Catholic people, each and all of us) must seek out and serve the human person in his or her suffering and failure, struggles and hope.

The entire text deserves to be read and pondered. It is concrete and profound. Even though it was addressed to bishops in Brazil, it deserves the attention and truly prayerful consideration of all of us. You can access the whole text through this link HERE to the Vatican Radio website.

I cite here only one quotation, in which the Pope reminds us that the Church is a Mother:

"We need a church capable of rediscovering the maternal womb of mercy. Without mercy, we have little chance nowadays of becoming part of a world of wounded persons in need of understanding, forgiveness and love."

It is Always Person to Person

Morning sun lights up the back of our estate. Its a morning full of blessings

The house is quiet, early in the morning. Its the only time of day that the house is deeply quiet. Everyone is sleeping except me. I've prayed my morning prayer, and now I'm sitting in my "home office" (my corner in the living room, with my "Daddy's chair" and my desk piled with papers and books and containers of my precious raw almonds, and gadgets -- and it must be said that in spite of everything, books still far outnumber the gadgets).

I sit here with my first cup of coffee, listening to the silence. I can hear the soothing sound of artificial ticking. It is our faux "antique" mantle clock, a true masterpiece of Chinese workmanship and design. The plastic body passes for genuine wood. The plastic face with its pretentious Roman numerals looks like gilded metal. A small battery keeps everything moving, and gives it a ticking sound that has nothing to do with the mechanism of the clock.

But as I survey the room and its spontaneous clutter (which is another way of saying "mess"), it is clear that this is a very real home. This is a house that is gloriously, raucously lived in.

Everything is given. It all seems still and silent in this moment, but it is a silence that breathes, from the presence of sleepers in their bedrooms to the tick of the quartz clock; from the errant sneakers that ought to be on the shoe shelf to the shafts of sunlight gleaming through the window. It is more dynamic that a roaring fountain. It is all, right now, coming forth from an inexhaustibly generous hand.

I've been writing less, and spending more time reading during work time these days. I am slow at everything, and I grow tired very easily, but I know that my days are about more than just trying to survive. I am being educated toward the most important work of my life. Indeed, it is a work that has already begun.

I write to communicate. My energy is drawn from my awareness of the persons who read these words, from the realities that I perceive, and from the connections that I see everywhere, and that I desire to share with my readers. Whether those readers are many or few is not so important. I craft various kinds of writing on different interactive media platforms, but I can keep my focus insofar as I remember that what is taking place is person to person communication. Even here, I am not writing to an "audience" -- I am giving something, sharing something that I see with each person who reads these words.

I do not know what people take away from these words, and they are often clumsy compared with what I wish I could say. But all I can do is summon my energies and give what I have been given.

I want to give what I have been given, but what happens to these gifts -- how they are received and what kind of fruits they bear -- is in the hands of God. Indeed, I myself am in His hand. Every person is a gift for others, and therefore every person has gifts to share. Every person matters. Every person has beauty.

The summer sun is brightening up the whole room.

All things are gifts from God to us, and we are gifts from God to one another.

Have a beautiful day.

God Always Surprises Us

Even in the midst of difficulties

God acts and He surprises us....

God always surprises us;

like the new wine in the Gospel,

God always saves the best for us.

But He asks us

to let ourselves be surprised by His love,

to accept His surprises.

Let us trust God!

Cut off from Him,

the wine of joy, the wine of hope, runs out.

If we draw near to Him, if we stay with Him,

what seems to be cold water, difficulty, sin,

is changed into the new wine

of friendship with Him.

~Pope Francis (Aparecida, Brazil 7/24/2013)

Josefina on Boys

Is this a "phase" that girls go through? The other three never said anything quite so spunky, but Josefina is a spunky girl.

Recently, she was telling me about what she is going to be when she grows up. She's going to have a farm, with animals, and its going to be right behind our house. A six year old does not need to concern herself with details like buying up property, tearing down houses, and neighborhood zoning regulations. She can just point in the direction of our backyard and say, "My farm will be right there."

Josefina: "And I will have animals to keep me company."

Me: "But you won't be all by yourself. You'll get married...."

Her: "No, I don't want to get married!"

Me: "What do you mean? Why not?" [Maybe she wants to be a farmer and a nun.]

Her: [emphatically] "I don't want any boy telling me what to do!"

Not exactly the model husband

Whoa. Where is this coming from? Its not like I boss her mother around. She hasn't had any run-ins with the boys at school, as far as I know. She always says, "they're funny." Maybe its from videos? Watching old reruns of the Flintstones, perhaps.... Anyway, I try to present marriage in a different way.

Me: "That's not what marriage is like. You love each other and help each other...."

Her: "I'm not gonna love any boys."

Me: "Oh well, I'm sure...."

And then she leans over and gives me a big hug and says: "I don't love any boys except you, Daddy. ...and God."

A New Way of Seeing Things

"Faith’s new way of seeing things is centered on Christ.

Faith in Christ brings salvation

because in him our lives become radically open

to a love that precedes us,

a love that transforms us from within,

acting in us and through us....

Christ came down to earth and rose from the dead;

by his incarnation and resurrection,

the Son of God

embraced the whole of human life and history,

and now dwells in our hearts through the Holy Spirit.

Faith knows that God has drawn close to us,

that Christ has been given to us as a great gift

which inwardly transforms us,

dwells within us and thus bestows on us

the light that illumines the origin and the end of life."

Encyclical Lumen Fidei 20

It Takes Time

It takes time to grow in love.

This is not an excuse for being lazy. If I sit back and say, "It takes time..." and use that as an excuse to do nothing, to say "I'll put off loving until tomorrow"--nothing can grow. Tomorrow never comes.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm lazy. We're all lazy. Let's face it.

But let's also dwell on this fact: if we are lazy, we will never grow in love.

These words, "growing in love," sound like a platitude. This is because we don't recognize that we are made for love, that all the turmoil inside of us is the anguished cry of our being, the cry for love. Even underneath our laziness is a kind of desperation to hold onto what we have, because we don't know if there is anything out there "beyond ourselves" and we don't want to take the risk.

But really, are you satisfied with what you have now. Really?

But then comes the other side of our laziness: discouragement. "I have tried to love before, but all I've done is mess things up. I don't know how to love and I don't want to try. It's too dangerous!"

This is a moment where my freedom is challenged in a critical way. I have a choice. I can give in to discouragement. Or I can acknowledge my poverty, and beg for help.

So we cry out for help. And maybe it feels like a waste of time, because help doesn't seem to be coming. But that is not true. Look! We are already doing something. In that begging is already the recognition that we need to love and to be loved. In that begging is already the recognition that there is someone worth loving. If I were really alone, it would never even occur to me to ask. Someone is already here, helping me now.

So I begin to love. And when I fail, I get up and try again. Because it takes time to grow in love.

Newlyweds in Italy: Florence, Ravenna, Milan, and the Sea

July 10-15, 1996

There is much more in the travel journal about our ongoing adventures, as we traveled to Florence, then to Ravenna, then to Milan and Monza, and finally to Liguria on Italian Riviera. Most of this time we visited friends, and benefited from their hospitality. I wrote about art and faith, the vistas of Florence and its tiled rooftops, Michelangelo (of course), Beato Angelico (of course), the spectacular Byzantine mosaics of Ravenna, and the incredible food that we ate everywhere we went.

Friends who knew these places well would take us to the local restaurants where there was real regional cuisine (like the fresh fish and seafood outside of Ravenna), or even better, sit us down to something right from the kitchen (like a "coniglio cacciatore" at a country farm -- "coniglio" means "rabbit" and in this case we are talking about fresh rabbit).

My journal from these days is priceless in its recording of details that evoke vivid memories. Perhaps I'll post more of these reflections another time. I want to conclude these reminiscences with a vivid memory of a moment spent by the Mediterranean sea on July 15, 1996. Our trip was coming to an end, but of course our journey together continues.

[Walking with our friends], we traveled to the lookout tower on a jutting cliff near Vergognia. After a fairly brief but strenuous hike, we arrived at the clearing at the base of the tower.

Here, some 40 years ago, a young Italian priest used to take his students during their retreats, to show them the beauty of the sea. The clearing at the edge of the cliff looks smaller in life than it does in those early photographs of Fr. Giussani and his little group of "Student Youth." But we were able to relive the breathtaking sense that they must have had looking at the utterly clear blue water and the coast stretching out in either direction.

Three of us decided to climb the tower. But Eileen preferred to stay in the clearing. The tower was used as a lookout in earlier centuries. Berber pirates would attempt to raid the coastal towns; from the towers placed at various points, their approach could be seen on the horizon and the towns alerted by means of fire signals.

From the top of the tower we commanded a slightly more amplified view. We stayed there for a few minutes before rejoining Eileen. From the tower, I looked at her -- alone and thoughtful -- sitting on the low rocky wall at the edge of the clearing, gazing out at the shiny, aquamarine sea with the breeze lifting the dark strands of her hair, and with heart filled with quiet wonder and awe. This is the woman I love.... 

So ends the journal of June-July 1996, with an ellipsis that indicates a love and a journey that are far from finished. Now, in the year 2013, we carry on with both.

Today we travel in places more amazing than the mountains or the sea or any work of art: we travel with these five miraculous human beings, each of whom is a person called into existence by God's omnipotence and love, created in His image, worth more than the whole universe, destined for eternal glory. The faces of our children continue to be signs to us that our love for each other is a gift. It is not our possession. It has been entrusted to us.

True Joy is Born From an Encounter

True joy doesn’t come from having things.

It’s born from the encounter,

from the relation with others.

It’s born from feeling accepted,

understood, loved

and from this acceptance,

this understanding and this love;

and not because it’s of interest

for the moment,

but because the other is a person.

Joy is born

from the gratuitousness of an encounter!

~Pope Francis