This Is What Christian Love Looks Like In Real Life

We have been blessed with some very special friends and friendships, Deb and I. Sometimes, though, you just have people in your life who are truly extraordinary people, even from a purely objective standpoint. Our friends Dan and Missy are those people for us.

I am convinced that the contagiousness of the Christian faith rests in large part on the witness of the everyday; that is, people who live the Gospel with integrity and zeal in their ordinary lives. They do not put on a show, but walk humbly. They are consistent in their character and treat all people with respect and dignity. They are selfless and genuine, prayerful, generous, trusting, kind, and joyful witnesses to the saving power of Jesus Christ. When people encounter Christians living the Gospel authentically, they can't help but say to themselves, "I want what they have." It actually exists.

That was the case when I met Dan and Missy for the first time when Debbie and I first started dating. Debbie and Missy had grown up together, attending the same grade school in Delaware. I believe it is in large part due to the prayers of Missy and her mom for my wife that she came back to the Faith, that we met, and that she was 'set aside' for me as a provision to be my wife. Missy and Angel simply never stopped praying for Debbie, never stopped gently planting seeds (with books and invitations), even when she strayed and went separate ways; she was never a 'lost cause.'

As a couple struggling to maintain the virtues of purity and chastity early in our dating relationship, Debbie and I approached Dan and Missy for help. By that point they had been married for about ten years and had learned a few things. We confided in them our struggles and they listened patiently and though they may have winced interiorly, they loved us in spite of our moral failings, and gently suggested ways to come back to wholeness. We would visit and draw on their experience of Christian love in the context of marriage many times over the years.

With four kids, a myriad of activities and homeschooling, and the demands of work as a physician, Dan and Missy never made us feel like they had no time for us. Quite the opposite; they made time by inviting us over for the everyday experiences of their family just doing life--having dinner, roasting marshmallows over a bonfire in the backyard, kids soccer games, and running errands. We were made to feel like extended family, part of an intimate and cherished unit, never a burden, always joyfully welcomed. When Debbie threw a birthday party for the dog, they were there. When the kids were baptized into God's family, they were there, even assuming the responsibility of being Monica's godparents.

Although we are rooted in different Christian faith traditions, we always felt that our beliefs were respected, never denigrated, and that they loved us, which made understanding easier. Differences, while not treated as unimportant, took a back seat to friendship in Christ and common prayer. We were always edified by Missy and Dan's witness to love. We never--never--experienced them talking bad about anyone, but focused only on building up. Their character was consistent--they were the same around us as they were in public, at work, around believers and non believers alike. To this day I still attend a men's prayer group that Dan leads every Tuesday morning at 6am. I drive half an hour to get there and a half hour back, and I have been doing so for the past five years, because it is not only edifying from a faith perspective, but rooted in male friendship and accountability. Dan's witness and personal integrity is a light on a hill, a beacon to look up to, to see what true manhood is. Whether he realizes it or not, he is both mentor, friend, and model for Christian manhood to me personally.

Dan and Missy have always gently pushed us to wager big on God, have great trust in His mighty power, and His ability to work miracles. We have seen it in their lives and, following suit, we have seen it in our own in manifestations where it was simply undeniable that God was responsible for miracles and benevolent provisions beyond our wildest expectations.

When Debbie's mom died last year, Missy and Dan and their family mourned with us, brought us food, were simply there for us. When Missy's dad passed away not long after that, we were able to return the blessing of friendship during an especially difficult time. They were the ones who showed us what true agape love looked like, and so it was not hard to emulate because it was so clear in their own lives in how they loved and put themselves aside for others.

We learned what it meant to be intentional about instruction to our children from Dan and Missy, of how to raise up a child up in the way he should go (Prov 22:6). They gave us children's bible story books and Focus on the Family cd's and books on raising, *ahem, headstrong children. Their own children are a testament to God's blessing--some of the most well behaved, polite, faith filled and loving children we know. That does not happen by accident, but through constant and loving attention as we observed in the way they brought them up.

Finally, we are simply grateful for God's gift of friendship. We can be ourselves with Dan and Missy; they never judge us and if there is any admonition, it is done gently and suggestively with great sensitivity and patient love. Every time we leave their house, we are built up and edified, never dejected or discouraged. Praying together, eating together, spending time together--it is a pure gift. To taste a little bit the good fruit of friendship the way God intended it here on earth...it is sweet indeed, for "a friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity" (Prov 17:17).

The Devil Offers Lousy Deals

I am currently reading An Exorcist: More Stories, Fr. Gabriele Amorth's (who, until his recent death, had been Rome's Chief Exorcist) follow up to his 1999 Un Esorcista Racconta. While the media sensationalizes the topic of exorcism and highlights the most extreme examples of diabolical possession, Fr. Amorth is quick to point out that cases of diabolic oppression (where there is no possession, loss of consciousness, or involuntary action and word...just severe to mild events that plague the individual) are much more common.

The Christian should not be obsessed with the Devil, for he holds no power over us (1 Jn 4:4). But neither should we be ignorant of the temptations and trickery he uses to affect a soul.

I was reading an interview with Lady Gaga from her forthcoming documentary. Something struck me from her description of a particular experience early in her career, before she got famous. I will tell you why in a moment, but first her description of the event:

"I had just been on stage, it was a good show, I was high on the love and applause from the crowd. I was outside lighting a cigarette, thinking about scoring some more cocaine. I was aching for more. More of everything. I just wanted to feel good. Feel anything.  

Then this man, a strangely ageless man in a suit, spoke to me. He was leaning against the wall, smoking, and he said to me 'I think you've got what it takes. Do you want it?' I asked what 'it' was. I thought he was coming on to me. But he smiled and said 'Everything. Success. Fame. Riches. Power. Do you want it all?'  

I looked at him curiously. I couldn't work him out. Then he just stood there and sang one of the songs from my routine earlier. It was otherworldly. I stared at him like he was a dark jewel dredged up from the deepest ocean. I got down on my knees and asked him who I should praise. I looked him right in the eye and told him I wanted it all. I told him I'd do anything." 

The man. That man. I read it again, and got some strange goosebumps. I remember--when I was in the throws of my first major psychotic bout of mania a little over a decade ago--experiencing a vision. I wrote about it later in my journal, following my hospitalization:

"I saw a vision of a black man, an Angel of Death, dressed in common clothes outside my window. The Dark Man sits outside my bay window, in the garden. He sits like the moon, legs crossed, twirling a black-eyed Susan between his fingers. It spins like a yellow cartwheel, faster, until the olive shaped black eye bleeds out onto the pedals and yellow pigment drips onto the concrete below. I followed him here to this grotto, like someone just woken up from a nap, bewildered and walking blindly, settling into my chair. He sighs and tosses the flower aside.  

The Dark Man whispers to me to come and see. I look out the window and he points to the maple tree in the front yard. Fluttering in the wind on the branches are hundreds of photographs--girlfriends, lovers, high school buddies, college friends, camping trips, road trips. Pictures of late night partying, jumping off rope swings, traveling, hitchhiking, bungy jumping, cliff jumping, racing bikes. Pictures from New Zealand, Australia, Haiti, Mexico. Old family photos, yellowed and dog-eared. My brother playing his first guitar; my other brother with his stuffed animals. My parents on the back patio at our old house before I was born. 

I kneel on the couch and watch it from the window. But the wind begins to blow and one by one the photographs are ripped from the branches and flutter off into the sky like dandelion blossoms. I run out onto the porch but by the time I get outside the tree is stripped and bare, forlorn in the night, arms braced to the sky. I turn to the Man. He is paging through a book, the plastic film pages blank. The Dark Man has stepped in as a sort of stepfather. He reveled in the fact that I had not come from him, but yet he had such strong influence over my life, was with me in the womb. So much so that during this time of mania he paid visits and mingled his wisdom with that of my real Father, so that it was hard to tell sometimes who was speaking.  

I rest on the couch for a moment and watch the maple tree. The Man is sitting on the ground with his back against the trunk, his hat tipped down over his eyes. It looks like he is sleeping, but he never sleeps. He is always waiting. He is always looking for fun.
But I don't know if I'm having any fun anymore. The erratic passion is there, but it's like a sour adulterous relationship--it's slowly getting old, tiring, complicated. And hard to get out of. I want eternity. I want moments that never die, but I am tired of this sleepless hell.  

I lock my door and turn off the lights and when I go back to the window the Man is chipping away at the bark with a knife, whistling an old slave song under the light of the moon. Inside a heart carved in the base of the tree are my initials: RPM. He turns and takes off his hat, bearing his gleaming white teeth. He gets up and puts on his hat. 'Everything is written, and everything is a dream,' he says, and walks off slowly into the night whistling that old slave song, 'Everything is a happy dream...' The moon is strung up in the sky like a wafer on a piece of thread, silent, twirling, pale and lifeless, serene, and passionless." 

I have always had a soft spot and affinity for Lady Gaga. I think she is an earnest and creative person. She smells truth, but she's not there yet. I do think she is missing the mark with the public focus on the physical (fibromyalgia) explanations of her dis-ease and malaise. She poses with priests, praises homilies on the Eucharist, and snaps photographs of herself clutching rosary beads--I don't know what her motives are, and its not my place to judge them. But if she really did make some sort of pact with a demon at some point in her life, any attempts to treat this psycho-somatic source of chronic pain will be ultimately ineffective, for there is only one Physician who can heal such an affliction.

The spiritual realm is the undercurrent flowing beneath the surface of this life. It affects EVERYTHING, and our ignorance of the forces at work vying for our soul only compounds the problem of illness as it manifests in our everyday life. While I don't doubt I do have a legitimate 296.46 diagnosis that requires treatment and management, looking back I can see the diabolic forces that plagued me during this time also had a root in my own personal sin that compounded and exasperated the symptoms. Blasphemy, gluttony, idolatry, drunkenness, fornication, and the temptations from outside of myself to take my life all had a demonic spiritual taproot that had taken hold in me unrecognized. I put myself in situations early in my life where I may have incurred an evil spirit. I hung out with those who practiced New Age mysticism; I spent the night meditating outside a cave where spirits made themselves present. At one point I had gone to Thailand and participated in yoga, bowing unknowingly to false gods. And this was all after my entrance into the Church! I don't know where it had snuck in the backdoor, but I gave plenty of opportunity, for which I have since repented and sought deliverance

Mind-body-spirit--the synthesis of which makes us human. While medical treatment was largely effective in my case, it wasn't until I got serious about repentance and cleaning up my spiritual life, having recourse to the Sacraments, was prayed over for deliverance by keen friends who recognized that something not of God may be at work in me, and got serious about being in a state of grace, that my mental health improved to the point of a full remission. Neglecting the spiritual dimension of life and dabbling in that which might, even inadvertently, invite in the demonic, is something we do to our great peril. Remaining vigilant is essential, since we know that

"when an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, "I will return to the house I left." When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first." (Mt 12:43-45). 

There is so much depression, so much suicide, so much unhappiness manifest in the world today. Do we dare ask the question--what is the root cause, and what is the state of our spirit? Fr. Amorth asks and unequivocally answers the question we should be considering:

"Can we make the case that the demon is more active today than in the past? Can we say that the incidence of demonic possession and other, lesser, evil disturbances is on the rise? The answer to these and similar questions is a decisive YES. Rationalism, atheism--which is preached to the masses--and the corruption that is a by-product of Western consumerism have all contributed to a frightening decline in faith. 

This I can state with mathematical certainty: where faith declines, superstition grows."

The Walls That Keep Me Standing

After I finished my freshman year of college I spent a summer at a Benedictine monastery in New York state. There were about five of us or so candidates that lived together, worked together, and prayed together as we discerned a potential calling to monastic life.

Once a week the Abbot would meet with us in the community room and give us a teaching on the Rule and the Christian life. One I remember was the parable laid out by G.K. Chesterton in the 9th Chapter of Orthodoxy that Fr. Martin recounted to us (it wasn't until about fifteen years later that I realized where the story came from, that it was not original to Fr. Martin!):

“Those countries in Europe which are still influenced by priests, are exactly the countries where there is still singing and dancing and coloured dresses and art in the open-air. Catholic doctrine and discipline may be walls; but they are the walls of a playground. Christianity is the only frame which has preserved the pleasure of Paganism. We might fancy some children playing on the flat grassy top of some tall island in the sea. So long as there was a wall round the cliff’s edge they could fling themselves into every frantic game and make the place the noisiest of nurseries. But the walls were knocked down, leaving the naked peril of the precipice. They did not fall over; but when their friends returned to them they were all huddled in terror in the centre of the island; and their song had ceased.” 

Ever since I was young, I have idolized the expansiveness of creative potential. I wanted to do all things and be all things and experience all things without limit. Unbounded freedom was the highest pinnacle of virtue. I didn't tie myself down with girlfriends or internships or morality growing up and into college. All I wanted to do was live and suck the marrow out of life without restriction, ride the rails of experience and rucksack my way to old age on the way to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Now that I am coming up on middle age, I look back and realize how off the rails I could have gone were it not for grace. For if there are two things that have completely restricted my choices for my own benefit and the good of my life and my soul, it is marriage and religion. Nothing has saved me from the oppression and restrictiveness of my self, has benefited my mental health, and taught me how to love, more than these two freely chosen frames.

But why? Growing up I never really wanted to get married and railed against religion and the sheep it produced. I structured my life in a way that precluded those things, even though deep down I struggled with loneliness, depression, and a deep need for purpose and meaning in my life. I hated to be limited, and yet it was the very act of having no outer walls that made the prospect of living near the edge a source of constant anxiety.

Chesterton's image of children huddled together for fear of falling off the edge of a cliff, not knowing where the edge is, was my life to a T. We can construct our own Rules for Living and build our own walls, of course. But there is something untested and immaturely subjective about living by one's own rules, making a god unto oneself. Studying the Rule of St. Benedict at nineteen years old introduced me to a way of life that was balanced, timeless, charitable, and so very human. It made me realize the limitations of creating my own curriculum for life, and how much time and energy that takes, and how, ultimately, it did not lead to the coveted goal I sought: happiness and contentment. The Rule was a path laid out that others before me had trod and been refined by.

Marriage, like religion, forces you (and I do mean force) to dig deep into your commitments, when everything screams and tempts you to abandon them for your subjective whims of fancy. "That's not for me anymore," or "I'm looking for something new," falls on the deaf ears of vows. It is a non-option. St. Benedict chastises in the harshest terms these "most detestable kinds of monk" in the very first chapter of the Rule:

"Third, there are the sarabaites, the most detestable kind of monks, who with no experience to guide them, no rule to try them as gold is tried in a furnace (Prov 27:21), have a character as soft as lead.  Still loyal to the world by their actions, they clearly lie to God by their tonsure.  Two or three together, or even alone, without a shepherd, they pen themselves up in their own sheepfolds, not the Lord’s. Their law is what they like to do, whatever strikes their fancy.  Anything they believe in and choose, they call holy; anything they dislike, they consider forbidden.  

Fourth and finally, there are the monks called gyrovagues, who spend their entire lives drifting from region to region, staying as guests for three or four days in different monasteries.  Always on the move, they never settle down, and are slaves to their own wills and gross appetites. In every way they are worse than the sarabaites.  

It is better to keep silent than to speak of all these and their disgraceful way of life.  Let us pass them by, then, and with the help of the Lord, proceed to draw up a plan for the strong kind, the cenobites."

Marriage vows and the commitments of doctrine tie us to the mast when the storms come and the refiner's fire engulfs. And they complement each other as well. For what is marriage but a path to holiness? And what is religion but learning to love? We simply cannot grow without roots, and roots take time and place to establish. The fruit?: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:22). The things the world and its subjective fancy does not offer except in the form of phantom dreams and unattainable ideals.

Let me tell you, though--I would have had little hope left to my own devices. Without the love of Christ and his Church and by extension, without the provision of my wife whom he had reserved for me, I don't know if I would have made it to this day. I am so so grateful for the walls that keep me reigned in and from self-destruction, and thank God for the gift of marriage that sanctifies, and true religion that teaches us how to love.

You Will Have Power

There's a lot I could be writing about after the Saint Paul Street Evangelization conference I attended last week in Detroit. Since I'm a beginner in the spiritual life and a noobie evangelist, I was there to listen, learn, and take it all in. All the talks were excellent, and the connections I made invaluable.  But it's been a lot of driving, a lot of coffee, and not a lot of sleep, so I'm going to keep it short and focus on two teaching in particular.

The first teaching I would like to focus on was from the fourth conference on the spiritual life, delivered by Fr. Ignatius Manfredonia, F.I. This talk hammered home to me how much of a beginner I am in the spiritual life, how imperfect is my love of God and neighbor, and how long and arduous is the narrow path that leads to life and how much divine help is needed in the cooperation with grace.

The soul disposed of toward God relies not on it's subjective nature of "I want to do this" or "I like that", but is simple and objective in its character. It depends on God's grace, as well as our participation. Giving up on prayer leads to spiritual disaster.

Fr. Ignatius laid out a fairly common outline of the stages of ascent in the life of prayer and communion with God used by many of the saints to describe what to expect as a slave of Jesus Christ:

Purgative (Beginner)

1st-FAITHFUL SOULS

2nd-GOOD SOULS

3rd-PIOUS SOULS

Illuminative (Proficient)

[Night of the Senses]

4th-FERVENT SOULS

5th-RELATIVELY PERFECT

Unitive (Perfect)

[Night of the Spirit]

6th-HEROIC SOULS

7th-GREAT SAINTS

As I studied the path laid out from my table, feeling like the mountain was too lofty, too out of reach, I remembered the words of St. Therese of Lisieux:

"I leave to great souls and lofty minds the beautiful books I cannot understand, much less put into practice and I rejoice that I am little because children alone and those who resemble them will be admitted to the heavenly banquet. I am glad that there are many mansions in the Kingdom of God, because if there were only those whose description and whose road seem to me incomprehensible, I could never enter there."[70]

I needed help if there were any hope for me. That is when Fr. Ignatius mentioned the spirituality of St. Louis de Montfort and St. Maximilian Kolbe, and the tender devotion of those who are fervent souls, to Mary as a way to Jesus. "Write Mary a blank check," he said, "by totally consecrating yourself to her, and she will lead you to Jesus."

Now this is a tough sell for many people, even devout Catholics, and total blasphemy to Protestants. But I was open to listening. I knew there is no human who was closer to Jesus than His very mother, his first disciple, flesh of his flesh. To give her liberty, to turn my life over to her, to write her a blank check was indeed a daunting prospect because, of course, it meant my life was not really my own anymore. Was she trustworthy? Yes, I had faith in that. So what was holding me back?

It became clear that attachment to my sin and "loving my live" (Jn 12:25) was a hindrance. It was scary too, since Fr. Ignatius made clear that "the blessings our Lady sends....are crosses." What would become of my life, the life of my family, should we consecrate ourselves to the mother of the Lord, totally dispose ourselves to her aid, to lead us to Jesus? Would we lose it all? Would we suffer?

It was as if I had been playing pretend Christian all these years, keeping one foot in the door and one foot out. A blank check. Do you know what Jesus writes in the 'Amount' line when you give him a blank check?

"EVERYTHING"

All of it. Empties the account. Net zero. Doesn't leave a cent.


Which leads me to the second teaching--You Will Receive Power: Ministry for Healing given by Fr. Mathias Thelen, Diocese of Lansing.

Fr. Mathias opened his talk by warning us to be careful. "This is not for the feint of heart," he told us, "You have to be radically dependent on the Holy Spirit" to engage in this kind of ministry, "since you only have power BY the Holy Spirit." Fr. Mathias encouraged us to pay for boldness to preach the word, "That you may never be silent," as it is written, "It is impossible for us not to speak about what we have seen and heard" (Acts 4:20).

He noted that all throughout the New Testament, signs and the Church's mission to preach the Gospel go hand in hand. That is, healings are signs that point us to Heaven. It is for the benefit of belief that God heals, not just physical relief from suffering. "It is an exciting time to be Catholic," he noted, since Jesus makes this power available by the Holy Spirit not just two thousand years ago, not just in the book of Acts, but now, today. And the need is greater than ever.

Fr. Mathias laid out three models for healing.

The first is Petition. "Please heal this person,"

The second is Command. "Jesus did not say pray for the sick, he said heal the sick," Fr. Matthias noted. And Jesus gave us the authority in His Name to do just that. This can manifest itself in commanding a body part to do what it is not doing (sickness, such a liver not functioning properly)

The third is Prophetic Word. That is, asking the Holy Spirit to reveal what He is doing.


There are four steps to healing ministry that Fr. Mathias laid out.

1) Interview
Ask the person in need of healing how long have they had this malady; on a scale of 1 to 10, what pain level are you; get a history and more information. Look for trauma, unforgiveness, a lack of repentance. "Jesus healed people before they followed," he told us. Prepare the person for the prayer. Encourage them to have faith, but that it isn't dependent on them, but on the power of God. Explain what might happen (tingling, warmth, shaking). Encourage them to just put themselves in a disposition to receive. There is no pressure. God is at work. "There is no harm in praying for someone," Fr. Mathias said, "even if they aren't healed; that is up to God. STEP OUT in faith, and be BOLD."

2) The Prayer Itself
Ask the Holy Spirit to come. Then you WAIT. "Whatever you do, keep it short," he said. And he drove home that EVERYTHING IS DONE IN THE NAME OF JESUS. Ask what is happening to the person.

Sometimes there are demons present. Don't freak out; you have authority, in the name of Jesus. "Once you spot them, you got them." He mentioned that one person being healed was resisting. He received a prophetic word. "Name yourself," Fr. Mathias commanded, in the name of Jesus. REIKI, said the person. They had been practicing reiki and had incurred a demon as a result.

3) Reinterview
Ask doctor of confirm. It is critical to step out in faith, you have to 'activate' their faith.

4) If nothing happens...
Accept it, but gently ask if there is unforgiveness, or sin that needs to be confessed.

Finally, encourage them to thank God for what He has done and is doing. "If you loved them," Fr. Mathias told us, "you were successful."

Signs are not magic. It is simply the power of God, activated by faith. It happened in Jesus time at the hands of the apostles and other disciples, and it happens today.

In fact, while we were all present, Fr. Mathias called out "I am getting a word...does anyone have a hand with pain?" Sounds very Pentecostal, doesn't it? I probably wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it: a man approached him later, and I caught the healing out of the corner of my eye. I saw his hand shaking, and he was healed. Steve, a layman who had been trained in healing by Fr. Mathias, also received a word that there was someone in the crowd with pain in the foot, and hand. A woman with a cyst in her left hand came forward, and was healed--it simply disappeared. The woman with the pain in her left foot was also healed.

These people had no reason to "fake it." They were all in their right mind as well, and Fr. Mathias was hardly a charlatan. Sometimes the Holy Spirit just works in ordinary but powerful and everyday ways, and this was a testament to His work.


There is much more I can write, but it is late and I need to go to sleep. I am reminded, though, of the end of John's Gospel is written, "Now Jesus did many other sings in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. But these are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name" (Jn 20: 30-31).

As our healing priest noted at the end of his teaching: "It's an exciting time to be Catholic."

Why I Am Not A Socialist...Christian or Otherwise

My five year old son David has a piggy bank. We started incentivizing some chores around the house monetarily, though I was initially resistant to the idea, believing that kids should help because of their duty as family members. Honestly, I don't really know what the right thing to do is (maybe a little of both), but we thought it might be a good opportunity to teach the kids about work, money, and that all things are a gift from God. I tried to teach him that with his own money, he should handle it in three parts: save some, spend some, and share some with the poor and those in need. He seems to be getting it, and he takes pride in what he has accumulated as his "wages."

I remember about a year ago this time I was driving home from western PA for work. I was somewhere between Pittsburgh and State College when I tuned into the radio and heard an interview with Senator Bernie Sanders. I distinctly remember it because I was surprised by how viscerally I reacted to his idea of "democratic socialism" and this Senator's unabashed embrace of the term. I don't know where it came from, since I'm actually kind of sympathetic to the ideals of distributism and am not a hard-core unfettered free-market capitalist apologist. It just seemed...wrong.

That being said, political theory and economics are somewhat shaky ground for me, and I'm probably on par with your average Joe when it comes to the subject. My reaction was similar, I think, to that of many Americans when Sanders made his way onto the scene leading up to the election--something akin to revulsion, and a vague feeling that something about this is not right and contrary to the entrepreneurial spirit inherent in our identity as Americans. Sander's call for a "political revolution" was unsettling, and the socialism (democratic or otherwise) he called for was deeply unsettling to me that day in the car.

But Sanders' political ideology goes deeper than just a well-intentioned desire to make our country "more equitable" via redistribution of wealth. I couldn't put my finger on it until I started looking into the role of private property as it relates to the Church and the inalienable natural rights of man.

I had a conversation with a friend recently who asked my views on being both a Christian and a Buddhist. Ten years ago I might have responded with some theological acrobats about shared commonalities and spiritual reconciliation or complementarity. But when I responded to him last week I said simply; They are incompatible. You simply cannot be both a Christian and a Buddhist. You cannot follow two masters. I stand by that.

Likewise, when it comes to conflating Christianity and Socialism, Pope Pius XI wrote in no uncertain terms:

“Religious socialism, Christian socialism, are contradictory terms; no one can be at the same time a good Catholic and a true Socialist.” (Encyclical Quadragesimo Anno, May 15, 1931. n. 120)

Dr. Taylor Marshall had a great post the other day on why one cannot be both a Christian and a Socialist, and that the two are in fact mutually exclusive. He cites various encyclicals of popes through the centuries, including Pope Leo XIII's Rerum Novarum, which condemns Socialism as a an economic error and contrary to natural law and social justice.

Natural Law has fallen out of favor in the era of post-modernity, but to ignore it is to attempt to undermine everything about what it means to be human. It can be intimidating to explain or extrapolate on in Thomistic terms, but my friend Leila Miller has a simple and easy to understand article on Natural Law at Catholic Answers. Here's an excerpt:

"Natural law (not to be confused with the laws of nature) is simply another term for the universal moral law, which is inscribed on the heart of every human. Natural law applies to all people and in all eras without exception. In other words, the natural law is not merely “morality for Catholics” or a “religious thing”—it is universal. The Catechism puts it like this: “The natural law expresses the original moral sense which enables man to discern by reason the good and the evil, the truth and the lie” (1954).  

Unlike truths we know through divine revelation (such as the nature of the Trinity or the sacraments), natural law can be accessed by the light of human reason alone. That is why atheists and believers alike can understand that things like murder, rape, stealing, lying, disrespecting one’s parents, and even cutting someone in line are unjust or immoral acts.
Now, that doesn’t ensure that individual humans will actually obey the moral law, nor that sin or bad formation will not obscure it, but natural law is knowable nonetheless. Pope Leo XIII describes the natural law:  

"The natural law is written and engraved in the soul of each and every man, because it is human reason ordaining him to do good and forbidding him to sin. . . . But this command of human reason would not have the force of law if it were not the voice and interpreter of a higher reason to which our spirit and our freedom must be submitted" (Libertas Praestantissimum).

St. Paul makes reference to this universal moral law in his letter to the Romans:

"For when the Gentiles who do not have the law by nature observe the prescriptions of the law, they are a law for themselves even though they do not have the law. They show that the demands of the law are written in their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness and their conflicting thoughts accuse or even defend them on the day when, according to my gospel, God will judge people's hidden works through Christ Jesus." (Rom 2:14-16)

With regards to private property, the teaching of the Church is that:

"The appropriation of property is legitimate for guaranteeing the freedom and dignity of persons and for helping each of them to meet his basic needs and the needs of those in his charge. It should allow for a natural solidarity to develop between men. The right to private property, acquired or received in a just way, does not do away with the original gift of the earth to the whole of mankind. The universal destination of goods remains primordial, even if the promotion of the common good requires respect for the right to private property and its exercise." (CCC 2402, 2403)

That is why theft (the 7th Commandment) is a matter of justice, while balancing with the reality that all things ultimately belong to God, that we are merely stewards of what is given to us:

"In his use of things man should regard the external goods he legitimately owns not merely as exclusive to himself but common to others also, in the sense that they can benefit others as well as himself." The ownership of any property makes its holder a steward of Providence, with the task of making it fruitful and communicating its benefits to others, first of all his family." (CCC 2404)

My dad used to say, "too much of anything is no good." While private ownership of material goods is in line with the law of Christ, with regards to money and private property,  knowing my own weakness and sinfulness, I like to keep in mind the wise words of King Solomon:

"Put falsehood and lying far from me, 

give me neither poverty nor riches; 

provide me only with the food I need; 

Lest, being full, I deny you, saying "Who is the LORD?" 

Or, being in want, I steal, 

and profane the name of my God." 

(Prov 30:9)

I think like support for gay marriage, there is a feel-good but misguided sympathy that goes with the idea of supporting a more extreme systematic government-led redistribution of wealth as Senator Sanders envisions, especially among the young. It is no accident that the Senator targeted his message to Millennials, since he would need the help of the people with the "political revolution."

I get it, but I think there is more at stake than just dollars and cents, or "love is love", since such things undermine the Natural Law and erode liberty as it is understood with respect to the common good of man. We were endowed with the Natural Law for a reason; you cannot work against it and expect human beings to flourish any more than one could expect to travel fifty miles filling the car's gas tank with apple juice.

Instructing the Ignorant

When I lived in Philly I attended St. Vincent de Paul in Germantown, which had a rep in the city for being the social justice church. Older white people and gay and lesbian couples would come from the burbs to experience community and be welcomed and break bread together. Just a year or two out from my stint at the St. Martin de Porres Catholic Worker in Harrisburg, this was my scene--concern for and service to the poor, working for justice, etc etc.

I had maybe been Catholic for five years or so at this point. Having grown up occasionally attending the Divine Liturgy (in Ukrainian) with my dad, I knew what a traditional liturgy was--the incense, the chanting, the vestments, the reverence--but had no attraction to it whatsoever. In my youthful pride, it was all pharisaical pomp to me, off-putting with a misplaced focus on externals--the very things that the real Jesus came to preach against. I was like the Judas that protested the expensive jar of perfume Mary broke to anoint Jesus' feet and how many poor people could eat for the cost of such a waste.

It is only in looking back now fifteen years later that I recall the extent of the liturgical abuses that were ripe at St. Vincent's. The congregation would join the priest during the consecration, joining hands and encircling the altar. The host itself was not those stale boring wafers, but thick leavened loves of honey wheat bread hand baked by volunteers. We would pass the bread, the cup, amongst each other.  The sign of peace was the source and summit of the Mass, and it would go on for at least ten minutes, people getting out of their pews and welcoming welcoming welcoming everyone, no person left behind. I may have even witnessed a liturgical dance or two during my tenure there, an experience no one should ever be subjected to.

I'd like to say I didn't know any better as a new Catholic (and I really didn't) that this was a complete affront to how the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass should be offered. But there was no one to tell me otherwise that this was abuse--I was simply ignorant. The WELCOME mat that was rolled out each Sunday morning covered a multitude of liturgical sins. To abuse the liturgy is sacrilege at its finest.

I don't know when I stopped receiving Communion in the hand, and started receiving it on the tongue, but it wasn't that long ago. On the surface, it doesn't seem like that big a deal. But how we receive the Lord in the Eucharist is a manifestation of our spiritual orientation; when we receive sloppily, callously, thoughtlessly, unrepentant or living as a manifest sinner (same sex married; co-habitating/forncating; divorced and remarried without an annulment; mob boss; pro-abortion politician; etc), or simply because we don't want to be left alone in a pew "excluded" from anything, we eat and drink condemnation on ourselves (1 Cor 11:29).

The Eucharist is the source and summit of Christian life (CCC 1324). As such, there are guidelines for proper reception of the Sacrament. From Catholic Answers:

The Church sets out specific guidelines regarding how we should prepare ourselves to receive the Lord’s body and blood in Communion. To receive Communion worthily, you must be in a state of grace, have made a good confession since your last mortal sin, believe in transubstantiation, observe the Eucharistic fast, and, finally, not be under an ecclesiastical censure such as excommunication.

First, you must be in a state of grace. "Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup" (1 Cor. 11:27–28). This is an absolute requirement which can never be dispensed. To receive the Eucharist without sanctifying grace in your soul profanes the Eucharist in the most grievous manner.  

A mortal sin is any sin whose matter is grave and which has been committed willfully and with knowledge of its seriousness. Grave matter includes, but is not limited to, murder, receiving or participating in an abortion, homosexual acts, having sexual intercourse outside of marriage or in an invalid marriage, and deliberately engaging in impure thoughts (Matt. 5:28–29). Scripture contains lists of mortal sins (for example, 1 Cor. 6:9–10 and Gal. 5:19–21). For further information on what constitutes a mortal sin, see the Catechism of the Catholic Church. 

Out of habit and out of fear of what those around them will think if they do not receive Communion, some Catholics, in a state of mortal sin, choose to go forward and offend God rather than stay in the pew while others receive the Eucharist. The Church’s ancient teaching on this particular matter is expressed in the Didache, an early Christian document written around A.D. 70, which states: "Whosoever is holy [i.e., in a state of sanctifying grace], let him approach. Whosoever is not, let him repent" (Didache 10).  

Second, you must have been to confession since your last mortal sin. The Didache witnesses to this practice of the early Church. "But first make confession of your faults, so that your sacrifice may be a pure one" (Didache 14). 
The 1983 Code of Canon Law indicates that the same requirement applies today. "A person who is conscious of a grave sin is not to . . . receive the body of the Lord without prior sacramental confession unless a grave reason is present and there is no opportunity of confessing; in this case the person is to be mindful of the obligation to make an act of perfect contrition, including the intention of confessing as soon as possible" (CIC 916).  

The requirement for sacramental confession can be dispensed if four conditions are fulfilled: (1) there must be a grave reason to receive Communion (for example, danger of death), (2) it must be physically or morally impossible to go to confession first, (3) the person must already be in a state of grace through perfect contrition, and (4) he must resolve to go to confession as soon as possible.

Third, you must believe in the doctrine of transubstantiation. "For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself" (1 Cor. 11:29). Transubstantiation means more than the Real Presence. According to transubstantiation, the bread and wine are actually transformed into the actual body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ, with only the appearances of bread and wine remaining. This is why, at the Last Supper, Jesus held what appeared to be bread and wine, yet said: "This is my body. . . . This is my blood" (Mark 14:22-24, cf. Luke 22:14-20). If Christ were merely present along side bread and wine, he would have said "This contains my body. . . . This contains my blood," which he did not say.  

Fourth, you must observe the Eucharistic fast. Canon law states, "One who is to receive the most Holy Eucharist is to abstain from any food or drink, with the exception only of water and medicine, for at least the period of one hour before Holy Communion" (CIC 919 §1). Elderly people, those who are ill, and their caretakers are excused from the Eucharistic fast (CIC 191 §3). Priests and deacons may not dispense one obligated by the Eucharistic fast unless the bishop has expressly granted such power to them (cf. CIC 89).  

Finally, one must not be under an ecclesiastical censure. Canon law mandates, "Those who are excommunicated or interdicted after the imposition or declaration of the penalty and others who obstinately persist in manifest grave sin are not to be admitted to Holy Communion" (CIC 915). 

Provided they are in a state of grace and have met the above requirements, Catholics should receive the Eucharist frequently (cic 898).

Orthodoxy means right belief, and it is important. It is not stodgy or rigid to insist on it, for what is a hollowed-out religion devoid of right belief good for anyway? It is devoid of power, a mere worthless shell. It's worse than salt that has lost its saltiness, not even good for the dung heap (Mt 5:13). Better to be a pagan than a Christian that doesn't really believe in the Faith. Thomas A Kempis wrote about the miserableness of the religious person who is not devout, for he

"who is negligent and slothful has trouble upon trouble and suffers great anguish and pain on every side, for he lacks true inward comfort, and is prohibited to seek outward comfort" (71).

What strikes me the most looking back at my complicitness in attending a church with such ripe liturgical abuse is this: no one told me that what was going on was not right. I didn't know, because no one told me.

How many of our fellow Catholics are in the same boat today? How many do not believe that Jesus is truly present--body, blood, soul, and divinity--in the Eucharist? How many do not know they should not receive him just because everyone else is if they are not in a state of grace or have not confessed their sins or do not believe?

It is a hard but very necessary duty to live out the works of mercy; corporal yes, but also spiritual: Counsel the doubtful. Instruct the ignorant. Admonish the sinner. Comfort the sorrowful. Forgive injuries. Bear wrongs patiently. Pray for the living and the dead. If someone would have told me years ago of what I was a part of at St. Vincent's and given me an orthodox alternative, I may or may not have listened, but at least I wouldn't have been ignorant. And I could have gone to my grave having never witnessed a liturgical dance (O Happy Death).

It can seem an insurmountable task to bring so many into right belief. So start with one. If someone opens the door a crack, gently push it in to start a conversation. If you don't know what you believe, read the Catechism, cover to cover. Be respectful but firm and clear. When you know someone is putting their soul in danger, love and care enough to let them know and not let them off the hook due to your not wanting things to be awkward. When you encounter friends who are discouraged and unsure why they should keep on living, pull up a chair. When you meet your fellow Catholics who don't know what transubstantiation is, teach them. Mourn with those who mourn. Let go. Endure. And in all things, pray.

If we don't as believing Christians...who will?

That Some Might Be Saved

In my field of work as a recruiter, I go to a lot of events that appear to be a waste of time. You might set up a table at a university or a career or grad fair and talk to two or three people, so you question whether its worth being there are at all. But if one of those students takes an interest in your school and ends up matriculating, it pays for itself a hundred times over.

You never know, either, what kind of outcome might come from your presence. In one instance a few years ago I was chatting with a prospective student in Venezuala from my kitchen table at 4am as part of an international virtual graduate fair. I didn't think anything of it until the student showed up at our office one day and I had a chat with him. He ended up attending our university, maintaining a 4.0 GPA, and went on for a second masters degree after his first was completed.

Even though some events seem like a total waste of time, what is the alternative? Not showing up and getting your name out there? If you show up you may or may not recruit potential students. But if you don't show up, you're guaranteed not to recruit anyone.

I'm getting ready to attend an evangelization conference in Detroit in a few weeks. I'm hoping it will give me some fire and tools to get our local team going; it is very very slowly coming together in our area, but we have yet to go out yet due to a number of factors. I struggle with sometimes become defeated before I even start, or having to ensure x, y, and z is in place before anything can more forward. Like anyone, I am susceptible to the fears of looking stupid, failing, and becoming dejected. But I have no right to any of these feelings until I actually fail first. You can't fail until you go out and take a risk first.

I'm not naive though. I know what we are up against in this culture. Deacon John Beagan had a sober assessment and perspective on the New Evangelization at Crisis in a recent essay.  Unless people are led to repentance and given clear teaching, evangelization efforts will be in vain. We are hemoraging people from the pews. For every one person that becomes Catholic, six are leaving the Church. This does not bode well for our future as a Church, our country, or Western Civilization as a whole.

I was chatting with a friend a few weeks ago, a lapsed Catholic, who felt that as long as he was a good father and family man and a "good person" that that was enough, and that religion wasn't that important. Not long after that I asked my father why he didn't go to Mass every Sunday (since it is a mortal sin to skip Mass), or at least go to Confession regularly, and it was similar excuses. I could think of a hundred more examples of people with similar attitudes.

Most of the world is marching blithely to Hell and have no idea. Very few have woken up to the life-and-death imperative of the Gospel. You write quietly and try to be respectful; you yell and you scream and you exhaust yourself trying to turn back the tide. But what's the use? It seems inevitable that most will be lost.

I don't think this is unbiblical either. Most will not be saved, in this generation or the next. Jesus exhorts his followers to choose the narrow path, which "few find" rather than the wide road that leads to destruction--the gate that "many choose to enter through" (Mt 7:13). All have the potential to believe and repent, for it is God's desire that all might be saved (1 Tim 2:4). In our own lives, Deb and I, when we abandoned certain sins and committed to living in a state of grace, going to Confession regularly and making use of the Sacraments and sacramentals, and trusted in God's will for our lives, God was able to work. For years we were not in a state of grace because of our use of contraception in our marriage; for me, personally prior to that, the use of pornography and masturbation rendered my spiritual life bereft of grace as well. But being in a state of grace makes all the difference for God to be able to work. It is essential to spiritual maturity.

When I went out to San Francisco to accompany my friend Joseph Sciambra and help him in his effort to help "save some" from the LGBT lifestyle at San Francisco's Pride event, it was with this hope--that even one might come to repentance and metanoia and reconsider their trajectory and come home. Joseph is great because he doesn't wait to go into the fray, he doesn't take it to some parish council and have a meeting about it--he just does it, in a soft-spoken but prophetic kind of way that is rooted in right (orthodox) belief. He knows what he has been saved from; he has stared into the abyss. There is nothing like a man who has been at death's door and seen what a life of debauchery has to offer to tell someone what to be careful of.

St. Paul writes that "I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some" (1 Cor 9:22). This is my hope. If I die fifty years from now and have only reached one person with the Gospel who repents and believes and is saved, I will consider my life a success. But even that I wonder about. Is it time to change strategy?

John the Baptist is one of my favorite saints, but I am not like him. I admire him from afar. A part of me secretly sympathizes with his having no time to "dialogue" or "share perspectives" about the Gospel, or have Convocations on Evangelization or form a parish committee. It's more like:

You

Need

To

Repent

NOW

But I will be honest--I get very very dejected. I feel like a complete failure. I fear for my parents and family and for my friends because time is running out. I pray for myself too, that I might not undergo the test (Mt 26:41). 

So, I hope a few will be saved. I will do everything I can, keep planting seeds, keep writing, keep praying, keep forming my family, keep talking, keep hoping.