John Paul II: “Let Christ Speak to Man”

OCTOBER 22: SAINT JOHN PAUL II:

“So often today man does not know what is within him, in the depths of his mind and heart. So often he is uncertain about the meaning of his life on this earth. He is assailed by doubt, a doubt which turns into despair. We ask you therefore, we beg you with humility and trust, let Christ speak to man. He alone has words of life, yes, of eternal life” (October 22, 1978).

JJ’s “Abstract Autumn” for 2026

These are all rather absurd, but I am still going to post them. It’s JJ’s “Abstract Autumn” collection for 2026 (let’s call them nn. 4, 3, 2, and 1). Soon, nature’s real colors will be on full display. Until then, I shall take the liberty of presenting these imaginative creations made of old photos, digital technology, and my own idiosyncratic musings:

A “Different Measure” For Life

It hasn’t been an easy week. I have been under-the-weather more than usual these days; really, I need a different metaphor, like swinging-from-the-yo-yo-of-the-weather (with temperatures going from 80 degrees to 50 degrees to 80 degrees to 35 degrees, from shorts to sweaters, from blankets to air-conditioning to heat). But worse by far is the frozen-cold cynicism that seems to be trying to creep into my heart.

Of course, mood plays a big part. So does getting older. I see more and more the vanity and futility of so many preoccupations and expectations, not to mention all the malice, violence, and stupidity in the world and in myself: horrible wars, stupid politics, thoughtless words, futile complaints, reckless scheming, ingratitude, childishness, the paralysis of boredom. 

Sometimes when I think of my own life and the times I have lived through, it all seems so insignificant and insipid and shrunken. I cannot resolve by any of my own philosophical words the disappointments and sorrows of my own life, much less the terrible suffering that weighs down so many people in our poor world.

But we have just had three saints’ days that point to a “different measure” for life: Teresa of Avila (October 15), persistent reformer and astonishing, intimate friend of Jesus; Margaret Mary Alacoque (October 16), prophetic witness to the Sacred Heart of Jesus; and then casting back 1900 years to Ignatius of Antioch, so attentive to the early Christian communities even while focused on being conformed to Jesus by the teeth of the wild beasts who would devour him in the Roman arena.

Jesus always brings this “different measure” of God’s gaze upon our life.

The love of God is not narrow and fickle like our own ways of loving. God’s love comes through the Cross. God’s love “pours out” undaunted by the chaos of all our sins, beyond the distance we make by trying to run away, crying out to us beyond our loneliness, enduring beyond all our agony so as to remain with us, preparing us for forgiveness and unimagined change-of-heart, healing, and renewal.

Prayer is the Summit of Human Dignity

The summit of human creaturely existence is prayer. It is prayer in the most basic sense: as a plea for the Mystery to have regard for the created person, to show something to humans that will amplify their destiny, that will direct them on the road that their knowledge and love must take on this seemingly limitless journey toward the Infinite.

In itself, the plea need not be desperate, but it is ardent — full of genuine desire. It proceeds not from any essential imperfection or defect in the structure of the created person, but precisely from a personal fullness that is drawn into the ecstasy of self-giving and a more profound receptivity. It is the plea of created love for a word from Uncreated Love. It is, as St. Augustine indicates, an “emptiness” superior to any finite fullness, a longing for the Infinite that is in itself sweeter and more satisfying than the possession of all finite things. It waits upon the freedom of God. 

This waiting shapes the attitude of human beings toward life and suffuses all of their activity to the degree that they recognizes the mysterious truth that things in the world and even other created persons — with all of their charm, beauty, intricacy, and diverse riches and with all of their disappointing limits — are signs that point beyond themselves to the Infinite Beauty and Inexhaustible Fullness Who is their source. 

Thus for the mature human person, for the wise person, an attitude of prayer, of poverty of spirit, of “waiting upon the Lord” radically defines the way he or she faces the whole of life even down to its humblest details. Every reality, for created persons, awakens, sustains, and deepens their fascination and reverence for the Divine Mystery and places them before that Mystery with open hands, with readiness to receive any Divine gift. 

This is the summit of human dignity: to wait upon the Lord.

~excerpt from The Created Person and the Mystery of God (First Books, 2003) by John Janaro. Available here.

Pope Leo: “The Daily Courage of Charity”

As our beloved Holy Father Pope Leo XIV undergoes surgery today, I pray for his health and in gratitude for his continuing prophetic witness to the redeeming love of Jesus Christ and the “magnificent humanity” of every person. 

[UPDATE: The surgically removed lung "nodule" tested positive for cancer (as doctors expected in light of prior tests). This establishes the diagnosis of adenocarcinoma, but its prompt and thorough removal indicates an "excellent" prognosis for a full recovery. Plans for possible further treatment are not as yet known. Let's keep praying!]

These recent words posted below express some of the facets of Pope Leo's encouraging and much-needed message for our times (and for all times):

Fall-ISH

I guess this could be called the “Fall-ISH” time of year. Our part of Virginia is not yet “awash in color.” Yesterday was awash with rain and cooler temperatures, although the sun came out today. Of course, maple leaves tend to stay green longer than leaves from most other trees, and we have lots of them here.

We are well into the seasonal shift, which brings lovely weather but, alas, shorter days (in terms of daylight). And my bones and joints get extra “cranky” on rainy days.

Praying For the Pope's Health

At the conclusion of today’s Angelus, Pope Leo informed his Rome audience — and the world — of a health concern that recently arose during a routine “physical.” It is indeed a concern and it would be good for all of us to pray for him. At the present moment, however, it probably doesn’t represent an imminent health crisis. It’s still important for us to pray for Pope Leo to recover fully and continue to serve as the successor of Saint Peter in the Church (and for the world, which is full of so many who suffer and seek understanding).

Here are the Pope’s own words: “Dear friends, during some recent medical examinations, the doctors found a small, localized nodule in my lung. It was detected at a very early stage and is well-localized. The doctors believe that it is best to intervene, so, following their advice, I have decided to undergo surgery to remove it. The operation is already scheduled to take place in the coming days. I thank you for your spiritual closeness and entrust myself to your prayers.”

I’m praying, and I will do my best to be “spiritually close,” realizing as I do the mysterious but profoundly real, “human” connection it entails. I hope (with some reason) to be one of about eight billion people who are praying.

I was going to post a quotation from Leo’s address to a group of diplomats in Paris recently during the Pope’s remarkable and hopeful pilgrimage to France. I’m going to post it anyway:

Newman: The Path to Rome

October 9: John Henry Newman, Priest and Doctor of the Church (1801-1890).

The account of Saint John Henry Newman’s dramatic decision to enter the Roman Catholic Church in 1845 forms a great piece of nineteenth century English history. Newman himself gives much account of his great conversion story, above all in his Apologia Pro Vita Sua. The stature of the man, his monumental intellect, and his radical courage in becoming Catholic might lead us to think that he was an isolated man. In fact, Newman’s courage was supported by a group of younger friends who accompanied him into the Church.

When Newman was 15 years old he experienced a profound personal encounter with Christ that was decisive for his whole life, a conversion experience which was at the root of his lifelong adherence to Christ. He has described it as an inward gift of insight that was in a sense “solitary” – an awareness of the decisive importance of the relationship between God and his own soul. Then Newman began his long and famous journey from evangelical (Calvinist) Christianity to the Oxford Movement (which sought to rediscover and reestablish the apostolic roots of the Anglican Church) to his ultimate conviction that the Church of England had separated itself from the fullness of the Catholic Church.

Newman’s motives for conversion to the Catholic Church were clearly rooted in the depths of his own conscience, as well as in a long historic and doctrinal investigation and a difficult period of personal spiritual growth. In his struggle against doctrinal relativism in the Anglican church, he had allies and companions within the vigorous Oxford Movement, but his decision to join the Roman Catholic Church seemed almost to be a lonely leap in the dark. This was part of the special heroism of Newman’s conversion. In correspondence from the critical years 1839-1845, Newman made it clear that he felt the Church of Rome to be foreign to his sensibilities, that he saw no place for his talents within it, and that he did not “like” what he knew of its ways and manners. He was English from head to toe, and leaving the English church meant losing friends and losing an influential position at Oxford where he seemed to be doing so much good.

Still, Newman was not without the witness and companionship of others in his own conversion. When the Catholic question led him to withdraw from Anglican ministry in 1842 and retire to the village of Littlemore, he did not go alone. He gathered a small group of younger men into a kind of community of prayer and study, among whom were John Dalgairns, Richard Stanton, E. S. Bowles, and Ambrose St. John. These men were all fascinated by Catholicism, and Newman initially tried to hold them back from making a rash decision. But once Dalgairns took the step on September 27, 1845, the others followed: Newman’s beloved lifelong friend Ambrose St. John on October 2, and then Newman himself with Stanton and Bowles on October 9. All four would become Oratorian priests and would support one another over the years in opening up “the Catholic way” in England for many who would follow over the next century and a half.

For all his great probity and profound interiority, Newman could not travel the path to Rome by himself. He needed these companions, these brothers with whom he shared a common vocation, these friends to help him take the great step into the fullness of Catholic faith.

The Rosary and the "Rhythm" of Life

Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary:

"To pray the Rosary is to hand over our burdens to the merciful hearts of Christ and his Mother... The Rosary does indeed 'mark the rhythm of human life,' bringing it into harmony with the 'rhythm' of God's own life, in the joyful communion of the Holy Trinity, our life's destiny and deepest longing" (Saint John Paul II).

After 800 Years, Saint Francis Still Draws Us to Assisi

On this 800th anniversary of the death of Saint Francis, my own thoughts were drawn back 30 years, to the precious visit to Assisi that Eileen and I made during our honeymoon. Back in the summer of 1996, we spent several weeks in Italy. It was a time to celebrate our marriage, to make a pilgrimage together and to revisit together places we had lived before (individually and in different years). We also visited friends and had adventures exploring and appreciating the art, architecture, and history of that ancient Mediterranean peninsula. I kept a journal during this time, as I often did in the days when I used to travel (and I’m so grateful to have had the physical energy and capacity to explore many places in my youth). As this was our honeymoon, parts of this 1996 journal are personal, but there are also many pages of my observations and thoughts on the environments we experienced together. 

I thought I would reproduce here a few excerpts from the journal that express the powerful impression Assisi made on me. It was striking and almost tangible how the events of the life and death of Saint Francis have shaped Assisi as a place. These excerpts from my notes of 30 years ago might clarify further what I mean. Assisi has a unique quality that resonates everywhere with the extraordinary witness and conformity to Christ of Saint Francis.

“After a week and a half in Rome, we left early on this morning [July 7] for a new destination in our pilgrimage — Assisi. As the train climbed into the Umbrian hills, we immediately sensed the change in atmosphere. We were leaving the chaos, the noise, and the contradictions (as well as the spiritual and historical vastness) of Rome, and entering into a place of quiet and simplicity of focus. 

“Rome is the second greatest place of pilgrimage in all the world (second only to Jerusalem and the Holy Places), but it is also many other things: tourist center, historical, archeological, and artistic center, economic and political center, and now also — in our own time — immigration center. The proportions of Rome are everywhere huge — supernatural grandeur, human grandeur, but also “splendid vices” and — today especially — ever enlarging tunnels of physical and personal misery. 

“Assisi is something markedly different. Assisi is a place of pilgrimage... and nothing else. 

“The first thing that struck me in the train station (and that continued to strike me throughout the visit) is that everyone visits Assisi as a pilgrim. This does not mean that everyone knows why they have come here. But the whole of Assisi is centered upon one thing, and everyone comes here on account of that one thing. That ‘one thing’ is a man. One man who lived 800 years ago. One human being who fascinates everyone. 

“Indeed, every saint generates fascination; it is of the nature of a saint to fascinate (because holiness is inescapably true and good and beautiful). But Francis seems to fascinate like no one else. His life remains a kind of “icon” of Christ and an “icon” of the human vocation in its purest and most transparent form — which is simply to love, to love "without measure," to love "madly" — indeed to love without measure because the Beloved is immeasurable, to love madly because the Beloved is good and beautiful beyond every limit of human calculation.

“We went up the hill from the train station (in a bus) to the Basilica of San Francesco, where we attended the high Mass and then visited the crypt. Here there is the tomb of Saint Francis, surrounded by the tombs of his first and most beloved brothers. I was struck by the power and the palpability of the affection of this most extraordinary companionship. Above all, however, I was amazed by the pilgrims. They prayed at the tomb, kissed the ground in front of it, and pressed their heads against the grating in order to draw closer, as though they could perhaps rest their heads in the bosom of Francis. Nowhere did I see mere curiosity. Hearts were exposed here; the unfathomable human desire was wrestling its way toward the surface of those faces that crowded around Saint Francis in the tiny crypt.

“Later, we went back to the upper church in the Basilica to marvel at the magnificent frescoes of Giotto portraying the life of Saint Francis. We were helped significantly by our guide book, but I was helped most of all by Eileen's deep spiritual attunement to the work of Giotto. It was incredible to think that these were painted within living memory of Saint Francis. All of the painting in the Basilica radiates the glory of the events themselves; it emerges from an immersion into the actual experience that had been generated by the grace of the Holy Spirit around Saint Francis and his original followers. This is perhaps the secret to the transcendent humanism of Giotto's figures; this is why they are so humanly real and so iconic at the same time.

“In the afternoon we strolled all around the town. Or, rather, at times we strolled and at other times we hiked. Everywhere there were beautiful vistas, hidden strade that wound thru little nooks between the buildings, and a pervasive sense of peace. We had a few moments in Saint Clare's church, and we watched the sun set behind the hills, the capolace, and the bell towers of Assisi from the heights of the Piazza Santa Chiara.

“The next day we visited Santa Maria Degli Angeli. This grand 17th century Basilica was built to surround and enshrine the Portincina chapel. In the early 1200's, this tiny chapel was all by itself in the woods outside the city. Francis loved to come here to pray; and later he came with his first friends to live. Finally, he came here to die — another chapel in the modern basilica marks the place (which had been the infirmary of the Franciscan brotherhood) where Francis died. In the painting, his disciples are kissing the holy wounds.

“There was something about Assisi that made us feel like we could stay there for the rest of our lives.”

Grateful For My Years With “Magnificat”

I want to thank Father Philip Nolan, the current editor of Magnificat, for his kind acknowledgment for my work over the past dozen-or-so years writing my monthly column “Great Conversion Stories.” I did indeed write 153 articles, and there are probably not many people who have read them all. I plan to make the whole “collection” available in some kind of easily accessible format (like a print book and/or ebook).

Meanwhile, I shall continue to write here on this BLOG and continue to experiment with other forms of “creative content” in the measure that my health permits. I’m also hoping to give more consistent attention to my larger and ongoing research projects (East Asia Studies, Media Studies, Giussani Studies) wherein I have learned much even though I have (so far) only published a few things. 

I will communicate as much as I can regarding numerous important themes, asking the Lord to give me wisdom, strength, and opportunities according to His plan for my vocation in this life — a plan that is mysterious, full of surprises, and always GOOD.

Saint Thérèse…

Saint Michael, Defend the Ukrainian People!

Saint Michael the Archangel is the patron saint of Kyiv, Ukraine. This is a picture of his statue in Maidan Plaza. On his feast day, all those who love Ukraine should ask him to intercede with God to bring an end to the daily, brutal, relentless bombing by Russian drones and ballistic missiles of Kyiv and many other cities in Ukraine. 

Putinist Russia continues its four-and-a-half year barbaric assault on Ukraine in its effort to conquer Ukrainian territory and break the spirits and the bodies of the Ukrainian people. The terror-bombing of Kyiv has reached unprecedented levels, and no one in the city feels safe. No one knows where the next bomb will fall, resulting in immense physical and psychological suffering for the afflicted civilian population.

Putin’s war machine continues to inflict various ruthless crimes on people throughout the country who have been run over by his uncompromising “special military operation.” Most recently, Russian forces are executing a total blockade on the remaining 2000 residents in the town of Oleshky in Kherson. Denied all access to necessary resources, these people have begun to eat the grass for lack of food. This is “hunger-murder” in progress, once again, in the 21st century. Murder by starvation. Ukrainians have been subjected to this crime before. It remains an abominable crime against innocent human beings.

Saint Michael, pray for an end to this horrific invasion, for the conversion of those who perpetrate it, and for the turning of all hearts to the love of God, and toward peace, justice, healing, and constructive dialogue that respects internationally recognized boundaries and international law. Pray for the peoples of the world to recognize and appreciate one another, and to live as brothers and sisters. Pray for the afflicted Ukrainian people.

Here is the recent post from the Primate of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, Archbishop Sviatoslav Shevchuk:

Avril Lavigne, Where Are You?

Now turning to that other September 27th birthday, I suppose I should join the global fandom that was everywhere on my social media feeds yesterday wishing a Happy Birthday to the legendary singer-songwriter and rock star Avril Lavigne. Indeed, Happy Birthday Avril!

But I can’t help asking the question that I’m surprised no one else seems to be asking, and that is “Where are you, Avril?” It’s hard to ignore the fact that nothing has been seen or heard from her since November 2025. All of her social media accounts are still up, frozen with last year’s posts. Maybe she’s taking a break (?) — which would make me happy. Avril turned 42 yesterday, and it wouldn’t hurt her to take some time to reflect and … y’know … GROW UP a bit. And also continue to branch out artistically. Avril has shown that she has the chops to take her music in new directions, and she seems to want that creative freedom. If that accounts for her recent absence, then that’s great. But somehow it doesn’t seem that way. It’s a bit odd, in light of her recent career trajectory which seemed “full-speed-ahead” until it froze suddenly last Fall.

Oh, the celebrity life! The whole experience seems so dysfunctional … and yet I also watch the spectacle of “public people,” and have a sense of a “bond” with them that is not entirely illusory. They share themselves through their talents in our implosive “global village,” and their work enters into the experiences and memories of ordinary people. Some of them are just crazy-good at what they do, and audiovisual media bring them into our ordinary perception more and more, sometimes to our profound edification but usually with the ambivalence and confusion of the dominant secularized milieu and its increasingly shrinking and shallow sense of the dignity of the human person. 

As someone from the first generation that never knew a world without television, I know only too well this milieu and the discernment and care required to appreciate the artifices that arise within it. There is much to appreciate, much that is flawed but at least in certain respects aims for genuine goodness and creativity. But it can come at a high price, an “inhuman,” excessive price.

It makes me weep to see the real lives of celebrities horribly, suddenly, and publicly fall apart. I’m trying to understand this whole thing better, and bring it (and them) to the Lord in prayer. As I have mentioned before, I “spiritually adopt” some of these people and pray for them particularly and frequently.

With Avril, I have special reasons to be concerned, and to pray for her… a lot. And as a chronic worrier, I can’t help wondering, “What the heck is going on?”

Since her re-emergence onto the music scene in 2018 after battling Lyme Disease into remission, Avril had been quite visible releasing new music, doing collaborations, appearing at award ceremonies, popping in to the big Fashion Weeks in Paris, Milan, or New York, and posting on Instagram (or TikTok) consistently. Since 2022, she had toured over large parts of the world. After promoting her seventh album, she didn’t seem to want to slow down. In 2024, she released a “Greatest Hits” album, which only Avril Lavigne could get away with in the Age of Spotify (when we can all make our own “greatest hits playlists” for ourselves). She toured “Greatest Hits 2024” and “Greatest Hits 2025” in North America and Europe, causing a crowd-control crisis at the Glastonbury Festival in the U.K., selling out venues everywhere including Madison Square Garden, and having lots of success. Latin America and Asia were totally expecting a “Greatest Hits 2026.” But sometimes I looked at those Instagram concert videoclips and thought to myself, “Hmmm…, she looks… tired.” 

Of course, knowing Lyme Disease the way I do, I was a bit concerned. I hoped and prayed that she was taking care of herself. “Creative personalities” often don’t know how to turn down the intensity. The impulse to “overwork” comes with the experience of being an artist, along with lots of other problems of psychological balance. And there may be personal sources of stress we know nothing about.

Has Avril had a Lyme flare-up? Look, it does happen. Often we can “push” through it, if necessary. We develop a “bag of tricks” to keep going. “Taking a break” can be a very helpful trick. But for Avril, it’s been so long and so silent. No social media greeting for last Christmas, New Year’s, Valentines Day, Easter, Canada Day? She’s been pretty consistent on those things in the past. No public appearances anywhere, not even the Juno awards. No weird or goofy posts at all? Avril is a “ham,” so something’s not making sense here. 

We know she’s still alive. Apparently, she attended Taylor Swift’s big private wedding. Taylor Swift, along with basically every other woman in the past 20+ years of popular music, will cite Avril as one of her great inspirations. Also, I recently saw a picture going around that placed her at another recent celebrity party. Not sure it was even real.

But Avril has historically made a big deal about her birthday. Always shares pictures, gushes with gratitude to all the fans who post greetings, and tries out some new pose. Avril still has that unusual charisma that lets her get away with things that would seem ridiculous for other people. As of this belated date, however, there has been nothing from her on her 42nd birthday.

It’s unusual. I guess there are lots of possible explanations, including personal circumstances that are none of our business. I’m not interested in gossip. I just hope she’s okay.

The “Littlest Janaro” Turns ONE!

How lovely that Katie’s First Birthday fell on a Sunday. There was a big family turnout at our son’s house, with brunch and a cake. There were presents too, which Katie opened “with the help” of her older sisters. Her role was accomplished (more-or-less) by others, but as a baby she’s pretty used to that.

As everybody knows, first birthday parties don’t register much in the one-year-old mind. There are lots of familiar people around: sisters, parents, aunts and uncles, and both sets of grandparents. The party is really more for them. They take pictures and give lots of attention to the birthday girl, but they do that all the time anyway. Then, for a good stretch of the afternoon, the birthday girls naps. She sleeps through part of her own party.

I didn’t take cake-pictures or present-pictures; just a few double-selfies. She is growing so much. She crawls like a champion, stands often, and has begun to take steps. Katie is very curious, and we are going to have to keep an especially close eye on the lower shelves when she’s at our house (which, like nearly all the shelves in our house, are full of books). She is very cheerful (except when she’s fussing or crying) and always has a big smile for Papa. She still likes to pull the beard, and has recently discovered the joy of knocking down towers of blocks whenever Papa tries to build them.

We already have this special “history” with these kids. It is gratuitous, and it continues to grow. It is yet another sign of the gratuity of reality itself. The older I get, the more I sense that I’m surrounded everywhere by gifts that are great and radically original beyond anything I could ever make myself. They refresh and in a way clarify the promises of my own youth: a new generation is growing within history as I sense myself “growing closer” to the ultimate fulfillment for which I hope. This evokes a gratitude, a sense of peace, and a quieter determination to live as well as possible the days ahead, with all my personal limitations. The winds that have whipped up storms in my brain all my life are perhaps growing calmer and steadier. It helped too that my brother was there (“Uncle Walter”) after finishing the first round of his current therapy. He looked a little bit “better,” I thought, although I know that he also gets a “boost” from his grand-nieces.

The birthday presents were fun, but — aside from clothes — they drew more enthusiasm from Maria and Anna, who immediately started playing with the toys. Little kids are not put off by toys that are designed for a “younger age group.” They aren’t ashamed to play with stuff designed for infant-toddlers, and in fact Anna — not quite three years old — is still a toddler herself. Her birthday is coming up in November.

Under the Gaze of Jesus

“It is by accepting to live truthfully under the gaze of Jesus that we can be authentic and look honestly at our lives. They are fragile, vulnerable and destined to pass through death; yet they are also wonderful and miraculous, capable of being renewed through our relationships and of opening themselves to true love” (Pope Leo XIV).

King Papa!

There’s no need to add much in the way of explanation to this picture. When the grandchildren are around, Nana and Papa have a rollicking good time. Maria is now five years old and she is very bright. She’s also creative, imaginative, funny, and sometimes even goofy. And so she has crowned me “King Papa” with the cloth crown they all play with, which doesn’t fit me very well. I’m always ready to be silly with the grandkids, although Maria is also in the early stages of being capable of more reflective conversations too. I’m looking forward to those days in the future (God willing). In any case, it is good to be part of their growing-up. When they go home, of course, we’re pretty tired. It’s a “happy” tired. I’m happy to be “King Papa”!

...and Don’t Worry!

Happy Feast of Saint (Padre) Pio.

I’ll never win any graphics awards, but I decided anyway to work up something “visual” for this day. These brief words are full of significance, especially for someone who is prone to discouragement and who worries too much.

It is a grace to remember that Jesus is here, whatever difficulties the moment may bring; and to remember that His merciful love is infinitely greater than all my problems and perplexities and forgetfulness and failures; and to remember that I belong to Him, that He embraces me in my poor crazy life.

Almost Autumn... Already?

A few images of late September, as the autumn months approach. 

When I Sit and When I Stand….

“O Lord, you have probed me and you know me;

    you know when I sit and when I stand;

    you understand my thoughts from afar.

My journeys and my rest you scrutinize,

    with all my ways you are familiar.”

~Psalm 139:1-3

These verses speak of the God who creates the whole universe, who transcends all things, and who is “nearer to me than I am to myself.” The Infinite. The Mystery. The “still, small voice” that whispers in the depths of every human soul the ineffable promise that sustains our seeking and awakens our conscience. The only One who corresponds to the “forever” that moves us to even begin to desire anything.

For most of history, for the vast majority of the human race, the Mystery seems obscured beyond all thought and all manner of searching. Still, everyone searches….

When the followers of Confucius asked him about what happens when we die, he responded with a brilliant and provocative question: “How can we understand death when we don’t understand life?” Or, in Classical Chinese: 焉知死 (A.I. can find the text for me, and provide links to various attempts to explain it, but it can’t answer the question; it can’t even explain what Confucius really meant by asking it).

The Lord knows “when I sit and when I stand.” The Lord knows how much my “sitting” and “standing” are taken up with trying to learn the deep currents of a great and ancient civilization that remains grounded upon this question, and whose peoples cannot avoid this question no matter how hard they try.

The Lord knows every one of these persons, and loves each of them with an everlasting love. The Heart of Jesus Christ knows and loves each of them on the Cross. This I know by the gift of faith, and by the gratuitous and overflowing love of God. I certainly don’t deserve to know anything (and can barely remember what is given to me every day).

In these times, the love of Christ compels us to bear witness to Him, which entails also the task of listening, learning, and engaging in dialogue with all of humanity. Faith opens us up to every human person and to all of history, calling us to share in the inexhaustible mystery of the concreteness and the ardor of Christ’s love. The study of history and the dialogue between civilizations don’t yield “easy answers,” but they are sustained by great wonder and great hope.