Lightening Up

When my wife and I met, she had a 'list' of what she was looking for in a husband. I don't think this is uncommon. Of course, I did not know about "Resurreccion's List" until after the fact, but it was pretty long and substantive. I must have received at least a passing score, since here we are eight and half years later.

I had a kind of working list in my mind of what I was looking for in a mate, as well. Not as long, but mentally catalogued none the less. It wasn't until a few years after we were married that I realized I had left one thing off, something vitally important, that I overlooked at the time. Thankfully, Deb had this quality even though it wasn't on my list. Thankfully, she had a great sense of humor.

It seems like such a worldly quality, doesn't it, kind of a peripheral and second-rate characteristic that you could take or leave if you are approaching a potential relationship from a spiritual perspective? I never really thought about it before, but I am here to tell you now: you will get a lot of mileage out of the ability to laugh at yourself and not take yourself too seriously, and if you are married to someone who can do the same, it may just get you out of more jambs and potential pitfalls in a marriage than you may realize.

Who you marry is one of, if not the most, important and decisive acts of the will you will exercise in your lifetime. I don't want to undermine love and attraction, but as anyone who has been together a longish time knows, much of marriage is pragmatic-- the day to day, nuts and bolts task of living together and being a team. It can be a joy and also, at times, a grind. Having a sense of humor is like the oil in the car--it lubricates the inner parts of the engine, minimizing friction, and keeps it from overheating.

When Deb and I have been in arguments that got tense and heated to boiling point, it was humor that kept things from blowing up. In fact, life with my wife is overall pretty pleasant in large part because we laugh a lot--both at ourselves, our situations, and each others. I can honestly say it has moved up 'the list' to one of the top three slots in what I appreciate most about my wife.

I've met people that don't have much of a sense of humor, and it can be a downer. But I think developing a sense of humor is something something available to anyone, and it's important. Remember too, that this is coming from someone with clinical depression and bipolar disorder, so I know what I'm talking about when it comes to how to survive! Here's a few ideas to introduce a healthy and hearty dose of humor in your life as a Christian:

1) Don't take yourself so seriously. Christ has paid the price for us. We don't save anyone by our own power. We are all children of God, but if we start to think we are more important than we really are, pride and self-love can sneak in the backdoor and make a home in us. Being able to laugh at our mistakes and failings keeps us humble and human, two things the devil absolutely can't stand.

2) Find opportunities to laugh. You don't have to look up raunchy tasteless comedians on Youtube to do this. Humor is like a spice for what can feel like a bland existence sometimes in the world, and you can find it anywhere. For us, sometimes its videos of cats freaking out when they see a cucumber, or poking gentle fun at each other's foibles (without being mean). If you have trouble laughing, ask yourself why. Maybe turn off the news for a change of perspective, or try to connect with things from your childhood that made you smile or laugh. Whatever it is, it's worth exploring. Plus it's fun!

3) Connect with your humanity. I think people who are afraid to have a good guffaw every now and then at their own expense can sometimes have an exterior wall up that keeps people from seeing them in a negative light. Humor is very disarming. If you are a boss or a CEO, laughing and a degree of self-deprecation around your staff can put them at ease and go a long way in developing trust. It has a humanizing effect that is good for morale and confidence. We are humans after all, not perfect robots that never make mistakes! And if becoming human and taking on flesh was good enough for God Himself, it should be good enough for us too.


Life can be a grind. If our marriages become one more cog in the wheel of suffering, rather than an oasis for refreshment and mutual support and understanding, we are going to have a hard time of it. Of course, sometimes marriage itself becomes a source of trial. But if you find yourself just needing a 'tune-up,' --being snippy and petty and wearing each other down--consider adding a quart or two of humor, laughter, and not taking yourself so seriously as the antidote for what ails you. Take a step back and work it in intentionally and spontaneously where you can. "Laughter is cheap medicine!" --Lord Byron

"He that is of a merry heart has a continual feast." (Prov 15:15)

A Very Special Announcement

"In his hand is the life of every creature

and the breath of all mankind."

(Job 12:10)

God is so good. Is there any time in which God is not good?

He has heard our prayer to serve Him alone, and patiently waited for us to open our hearts, leave behind our idols, and loosen our grip on our sense of control and calling our own shots.

He has given--

sent new Catholic friends, mentors, revelations, people, places, situations, sacramentals, and graces to help gently pry our fingers off the wheel of our lives and to allow Him to steer. 

He has put in us a new heart, and put a new spirit within us, one that sees children as a heritage from the Lord. (Ezekiel 36:26; Psalm 127:3). 

Blessed be His name!

This past year, the Lord has also taken away. 

He has called Deb's mom home suddenly, and our two little ones who were never born. But he has also taken away fear--the fear of the unknown, the fear of loss, the fear of losing face for our faith. 

We bless His holy name, for though he slay us, we will trust Him still (Job 13:15). 

Blessed be His name!

And now, He has given once again. 

Twelve weeks along, and a strong heart beat at Deb's appointment today, so time to start breaking the news. David is sure it is a boy, because he prayed for a boy, but we will have to wait until February to find out. We know the risks, but also know that God will not be outdone in generosity. 

Blessed be His name!

God is so good. Is there any time in which God is not good?

Thank you all for your prayers this past year, and always!

:)

"I will praise you, O LORD, with all my heart; 

I will tell of all your wonders." 

(Ps 9:1)

Assume The Position

My wife and I have been married for seven years. Though chastity is an important and cherished part of our relationship now, it was not always so. We struggled mightily early in our relationship prior to stay chaste and maintain proper boundaries with each other, and faltered on many occasions to reserve sexual expression for marriage. We set ourselves up for this by sleeping over each other's houses and fooling ourselves by toeing the line and thinking we were stronger than we were. Although we desired chastity, we didn't put things in place as diligently as we should have to ensure that the opportunity to practice chastity didn't have so much going against it in; ie, the near occasions of sin we were constantly finding ourselves in.

I heard that Billy Graham never used to ride an elevator alone with a woman who wasn't his wife.  If a woman stepped on, and he was the only one in the elevator with her when she got on, he would step off. I used to think, "man, that's pretty extreme." But now I get it. I've heard Vice President Mike Pence has a similar policy. It's protection for themselves and the integrity of their vows, yes, but I also think it is a healthy distrust of themselves and a recognition of our fallen nature. So, they put things in place to have a rightly ordered posture that edifies their vows and sets up bulwarks against those things that might compromise them.

Not too long ago, I used to 'pray in bed.' That is, if I was praying a rosary and was tired, I would do it lying flat on my back on the bed. That way I could rest and pray, I reasoned--best of both worlds! Nine times out of ten, I would fall asleep while doing so. My posture, so to speak, was ordered towards sleeping, not praying, and so my spirit followed that natural trajectory that I had set up for it. For me, it was ultimately a lazy and casual approach to prayer that was not fruitful because it's outward expression conflated with something else.

Also not too long ago, I had a similar lackadaisical attitude towards the Sabbath--why not use the 'day off' to catch up on all those things that I didn't get to during the week: church yes, but then mowing the lawn, running errands, catching up on work emails or house projects? Rather than being set apart, Sundays bled into the the rest of the week and became just another day. It wasn't until we started being intentional about taking rest on the Sabbath and keeping it holy seriously that I started to see how important it was to keeping everything else in its right order (3rd Commandment).

The Lord had strict instructions for the Israelites against inter-marrying and warnings against it (1 Kings 11, Ezra 9, Deuteronomy 7 and others). They were "a people set apart" (Deut 7:6). The Lord also makes clear in the book of Revelation that hot should be hot and cold should be cold, but a co-mingling that produces lukewarmness is an abomination to Him (Rev 3:16).

When I started getting more serious about my spiritual life, I started to notice the laziness and compromise in these things and how the lack of clear delineation between the flesh and the spirit, or the sacred and the profane was making it harder to live a life of integrity. It was, instead, a life of laziness, convenience, and compromise.

But there are concrete things one can do to affect change in these areas and "re-orient" oneself to right order.

Firstly, for me, the Sabbath should be set aside for rest and worship, and it should be intentional. Yes, we may need to cook a meal and we don't need to be hassidic about not turning on lightswitches or driving. That means Mass (every Sunday, not just every other or every Christmas and Easter or every now and then). It also means being serious about rest. A lot of times this translates into extra-busy Saturdays trying to get things done in anticipation of the Sabbath, but the solid day of rest (because the Lord rested on the seventh day) on Sundays does wonders for the spirit. We relax, enjoy family time, reading, prayer, maybe go for a walk or something. I may write, but as leisure and not as a kind of work. If you've never tried setting aside your Sunday, I'd encourage you to give it a try, and be intentional about the way you orient yourself on the day. It has made a huge difference in our lives and our relationship with the Lord, the Creator of the Universe.

Secondly, we have made a devoted "prayer space" in our house. It is a little room off to the side of our bedroom, and is pretty simple--a small desk, a bible, a crucifix on the wall, and a candle. This is the 'place' of prayer, the place set apart as a little sanctuary, where we can "close the door, and pray to our Father in secret" (Mt 6:6).

Thirdly, when I pray in this space, I often pray on my knees. The area is carpeted, and I may look into making a padded kneeler or something at some point, but at this point in time I pray on my knees. It's slightly uncomfortable, enough to keep me attentive. I find when I sit (perfectly acceptable, especially if you have bad knees or joints), I get sleepy and tend to slouch, and it feels a little too comfortable and casual. The outward orientation of being on your knees is one of humility before the awesomeness of God, a kind of healthy fear and reverence. There are times I do sit, but I find praying on my knees puts my mind and spirit in a different kind of orientation, a focus, that is conducive to an intensity in prayer I wouldn't have if sitting.

Lastly, I find that a structured prayer like the rosary has become more and more useful to me to maintaining spiritual discipline. As a minimum, it provides me almost exactly fifteen minutes of prayer that is hard to walk away from in the middle of it when the temptation to leave and do something else gets strong. Of course, I enjoy unstructured prayer and reading as well, but the nature of the rosary is efficacious to maintaining discipline in meditation and has assumed a place in my prayer life. I would also like at some point in the near future to have a more structured approached to reading scripture (such as the Divine Office, or something similar), so that it might bear more fruit then the 'flip open and jump around' way I read now.

My point is, posture is important, and the externals can help orient our internal spirit in the right direction. If I want to be intentional in prayer these days, I don't do it lying down in bed; and if I am lying down in bed, I get up and kneel at the foot of my bed, or go in the the other room to pray, so the two don't get conflated. Keeping the Sabbath holy is not only good practice for orienting us in the right way with regards to worship and rest, but it is a command of the Lord Himself to Moses ("Keep Holy the Sabbath"). Sex with your spouse is oriented in the right way when you're focusing on the experience at hand--not fantasizing about someone else, being totally open and vulnerable, loving with complete abandon in trust. Don't bring other people or images into your bed with you, since we are called to "keep the marriage bed pure and undefiled" (Heb 13:4).

These are simple things--posture; a devoted prayer station; setting aside the Sabbath for rest; and some structure in prayer time--that can make a big difference and are relatively easy to implement in how we 'orient' ourselves, spiritually. Sometimes it's the simplest things that make the biggest difference.

"Well, Brothers, When Shall We Begin To Do Good?"

History is such an interesting subject to me personally. For one thing, it is cumulative--everything in history builds on and is often a reaction to what came before it. I am not detail oriented, but everything about the subject of history--dates, times, people, places--lends itself to detail. I'm also not a real smart guy, so it can be a struggle for me to synthesize everything sometimes and write accurately without blunder. Reading and retaining takes time and brain cells, and it is a great poverty that I don't have more time to spend reading about, say, the causes of the world wars, or the backstory behind the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

So I focus on what is pertinent to my life and what I feel God is asking of me to share. I love learning and reading, but I have no time for curious intellectual masturbation; it has to lead me somewhere. Most of the time when I bang out a blog post it's in 45 minutes or less with minimal editing, because often that's all the time I can carve out and spare to write--on my lunch break, between after dinner and bedtime for the kids, in the middle of the night. I don't write intellectual articles because I'm not an intellectual. I rarely write polemical articles because I'd rather find common ground with "those who are with not against us" (Lk 9:50). And I tell stories because my life and experiences are often the most accessible case studies I have on hand.

Every now and then I want to devote more time to a lengthier post, and last night that was the case when I was reading about the period in Church history known as the Catholic (or Counter) Reformation. The reason I started reading about this period in history (16th century) was to make sense of this particular place we find ourselves in the early 21st century. It is a moment of great moral decay and confusion, even within the Church; a time in which Christendom faces new and particular enemies; and also a period in which the Lord is raising up key players in the fight against a ruthless secularism and dictatorship of moral relativism.

What's reassuring about studying history is that there's really nothing new under the sun. The Catholic Church should have buckled and gone under years ago, whether under the pernicious dominant heresy of Arianism in the 4th century or the fall of Christendom under Enlightenment usurpation in the 12th century. And yet, she is still standing. The question that becomes relevant to me as a Christian living and believing in the world today is: What are the unique challenges of the cultural landscape in which we live?  Who are our enemies? What should our strategy or missionary charism be for ensuring the Gospel reaches every living person in need of its saving power?


The Cultural Landscape

The Catholic, or Counter, Reformation was the response of the Church to the powderkeg explosion of Protestantism in the 16th century Europe. Whether or not Martin Luther was a reformer or revolutionary may be subject to debate, but things quickly out of hand after the 95 Theses got nailed to the a church door in Wittenberg, and the Church found itself on the defensive against Protestantism. It was a time of necessary renewal in the church, not unlike our present day. Reading about the lives of St. John Fisher, St Thomas More, St. Charles Borromeo, St Teresa of Avila, St John of the Cross, St Ignatius of Loyola, it is awesome to see how God always raises up the right people at the right time to stand as a bulwark against the tide.

I especially loved reading about the life of St. Philip Neri, a conversationalist who wasted no time converting good conversations to good actions as a means of evangelization. His customary affable question, "Well, brothers, when shall we begin to do good?" really struck a chord with me. I will be asking for his prayers on a regular basis.

We have moved beyond a post-modern culture in Western civ. I would argue we are living in a post-Christian culture that is essentially pagan, with the gods of secularism being worshiped. One cannot take for granted the Judeo-Christian foundation we once enjoyed.


Who Are Our Enemies?

"Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Eph 6:12).

We are advised by the Lord Himself to be "as wise as serpents and innocent as doves" (Mt 10:16) while moving through this hostile landscape as Christians in the world. I would argue we need to balance a clandestine underground approach, not casting our pearls before swine, with a fearless proclamation of the Gospel and a willingness to witness through suffering for it.

Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI warned against a "dictatorship of relativism" in our current culture, and I encounter this in my day to day. "That may be your truth, but it doesn't apply to me." As Benedict said, "we must have the courage to say, 'yes man must seek the truth; he is capable of truth.'" We should not be like Pilate asking, "What is Truth?" for as Catholic-Christians we know the answer and need only proclaim it boldly and without fear, for Truth can stand on its own.

There are also powerful lobbies both inside and outside the Church working to obscure clear teaching on homosexuality and gender and advance agendas contrary to the Gospel. These are not so much individuals but ideologically driven collective blocs that confuse and obscure Truth. They cannot tolerate dissent, and so operate in a militaristic, totalitarian fashion to "punish the wicked (Christians)." They will not be appeased and they are not open to discussion.

Communist regimes like those in China continue to attempt to squash the Gospel and set up their sham state-sponsored "churches" as a way of controlling the populace and ensure docile loyalty to the State. Their regimes are evil and opposed to religion and the Christian faith.

The pernicious darkness of sexual exploitation of minors, sexual slavery of young women and boys, abortion on demand, and the pornography industry dehumanizes and degrades the goodness and holiness of our God-given gift of sexuality. It must be fought with a personal integrity that refuses to participate or consume it, to starve it out so it dies a horrible death.

There are many other enemies of the Gospel and false prophets, some apparent and some not always so. But "be their fruits you will know them," (Mt 7:15) so pray and steep yourself in the Word of God to know the fruits when you see them, and avoid their bad rot.

We need to partner with those who are "not against us"--our Christian brothers and sisters in this fight against the Dictatorship of Relativism, in common, fervent prayer and public witness, while maintaining our distinct identity, voice, and community as Catholics. Once you've identified the enemy, it's time to pick up sides.


A Mission Church

We are living in mission territory here in the West. We are beyond the days of fish-fries and golf outings and cannot afford to be complacent. Like Paul the Apostle in his travels, we need to learn how to communicate Truth effectively in a neo-pagan culture that does not know nor care about 'churchy-talk'. Indeed, the elemental truths of Christianity cannot be taken for granted. We need to make to priority the call of Jesus to make disciples of all nations once again, for we have forgotten it in our complacency. We need to get out from the church walls and his the streets, be open in our families, be cautious yet not ashamed in our places of work, and live lives of integrity and love that make people witness to your lives and say once again in the words of Tertullian, "See how these Christians love one another!" We can take nothing for granted, and we do not need to go to Africa or Asia, but can start in our own backyards, for sometimes God asks us to "start where you are."

People are hungry for Truth, yet it is like a foreign alien specimen in a post-modern culture. The Truth can hurt but can also be a great salve for a hurting culture and for those 'walking wounded' who have hit bottom and have no other recourse but to look up. "Do not be afraid!" the Lord says over and over again. Be not afraid!


We are in the midst of a great period of renewal in the Church, and a fight for the culture. I have full confidence God will raise up those willing to fight. Will you be one? Take courage! Even should there be a falling away, a pruning, the Lord knows what He is doing. But we are called to great work, and there is no room for leisure or complacency while souls are being lost. "I have come to bring fire on earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!" says the Lord (Lk 12:49).

The Most Terrible Poverty

I'll never forget one of my best friends in high school, since he was instrumental in my conversion. I'm inclined to put friends in quotes because it was a completely one-sided friendship. I was available to hang out whenever he wanted someone to do something with. With our other buddies we had great times walking the rail road tracks for miles, and sneaking to each others houses through the giant drainage pipe that ran under the 202 bypass. We were a posse. 

I don't know if he ever realized it, but this friend of mine was one the most self-centered people I had ever met in my life. He was gregarious and fun, quick to share a laugh, talented, and popular. Yet despite our years of friendship, when I was in the hospital he never came to visit me. I couldn't share anything of meaning with him while feeling he truly cared about me. I was good for a good time. I could never put my finger on it; it was only in retrospect that I came to realize that he didn't really care much about me or my well-being.

I mentioned that he was instrumental in my conversion because I never really felt valued by him as a person, despite the years and years we spent together. He helped me to feel and experience what the model of friendship in the world was--utilitarian, shallow, self-focused. So when I did experience the model of love, self-sacrifice, concern, communion, and genuine friendship in the person of Jesus Christ and those people I met who embodied his life as disciples, I had something to contrast it with. There was no comparison. I'm indebted to my friend for allowing me to experience the shallow dissatisfaction and loneliness such a friendship provided, because it moved me to search for something more that what it provided.

Saint Augustine believed that in this world there are two things that are essential: life, and friendship. To Augustine, friendship is as important as food, and a means of being authentically human. He drew on Cicero's definition of friendship: “agreement with kindliness and affection about things humans and divine,” but added, “in Christ Jesus our Lord who is our real peace.”

Today, I have good close guy friends from my time in Philly who I hang out with regularly and who would probably take a bullet for me. None of them, however, are Christian, and so there is always something I am leaving aside when we hang out. I love them like brothers, but I can't share all that I am with them; despite that, making new male friends in your late thirties is no easy prospect, so the thought of leaving them behind is not something I'm inclined to do.

I often find myself in a conundrum--longing for the close male friendships, the communing of souls, Augustine extols in his classical treatise; friendships not based on "doing things" or shallow interests, but on willing the genuine good of the other as disciples striving together for holiness

And yet, this kind of closeness seems to be the territory of women. It's not the male archetype, and so there is a subtle shame in desiring and needing these kinds of intimate friendships. As a married man, I can't seek out new friendship with members of the opposite sex. And as a man, finding another man who I can confide in beyond the trite and externals is not easy. My dad used to say when my brothers and I were younger, "making friends is easy! You just go up to a kid and say, "Hi I'm Robbie, want to be friends?" It generally worked as kids. Manhood as a husband and father in suburbia is a different story, especially if you are like me and really thrive on close, intimate relationships. The lowest common denominator in this closed equation is loneliness.

"The biggest threat facing middle-aged men," wrote a journalist in a Boston Globe editorial last March, "isn't smoking or obesity. It's loneliness." It's a public health crisis in that loneliness contributes to cardiovascular disease, stroke, and Alzheimer's. But it cuts deeper, too. St Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, "the most terrible poverty is loneliness and feeling of being unloved."

I have such good memories from college of sitting out in the quad at 1 in the morning with my brother in faith, Peter. We would share our struggles and our desire to serve the Lord til the sun came up. It was a special time, but a time that wouldn't last forever. Like most of my friendships as I approach my forties, they've taken a backseat to work, family, and activities. Most of my guy friends aren't real big on writing or staying in touch regularly, and I can't say I am all that good about it either. It's just not something guys do. But when times get hard, and I think, "who can I turn to? Who can I commune with, confide in, confess to...I come up short.

Christian Men need an archetypal way of connecting that moves beyond the shallowness of sports and acquaintanceship. They need to know they can rely on other men for their struggles, trust that they can be accountable and hold others to account, and that other men will look out for their well being while pushing them to cultivate those virtues which allows them to stand on their own two feet. A deep loneliness and isolation permeates middle-aged men, especially those (like myself) who struggle to connect in a meaningful way beyond the BS that often keep us at arms length from really knowing one another. I don't know what the remedy to that isolation is, but there is a lot going against us: technology, isolation, convention and social norms, substituting 'doing things' for being there for one another in times of need, the fear of rejection or being seen as weird or effeminate, and being vulnerable.

But I don't think it has to be that way. At the heart of true friendship is wishing the other well. Jesus himself said "there is no greater love than for a man to lay his life down for his friends" (Jn 15:13). That kind of sacrifice, such "brotherly love" is a truly masculine trait. Jesus' vulnerability, too, in wanting his friends to stay awake with him in his hour of need in the garden before his crucifixion was a deeply human trait, neither masculine or feminine, but human.

Christ the Son of God said to those men in his inner circle, "I do not call you slaves, but friends." (Jn 15:15). To make a friend you sometimes have to be a friend, so maybe that is what God is calling me to do and be. Instead of desiring friends, maybe I should try being a friend to someone without, someone suffering under the painful yoke of loneliness, without thinking as much of my own need. Maybe that is a an unconventional remedy, though it is not without risk. "A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." (Prov 18:24) Moving out of ourselves has a way of assuaging at least in part that deep sense of loneliness we all experience as part of being human, our attempts to fill that "God shaped hole" in the imperfection of human friendships. And yet what better and sweeter way to experience the love of God than in those friendships founded on the love of Christ? It is "iron sharpening iron," more valuable than gold.

The Poison of Unforgiveness

"To withhold forgiveness is to take poison and expect the unforgiven to die." --St. Augustine of Hippo


I am a pretty forgiving person I like to think, but there are some times where I really, really struggle with it. Last night was one of those nights and I am still working through it this morning, still struggling, still not at peace. I can tell it hasn't been resolved yet, because my spirit is not right, and I am mostly to blame, because I did not settle things quickly when I should have but chose instead to hang on out of pride and a lack of charity. It is wearing away the enamel of my spirit.

What's scary is, unforgiveness is often precipitated by something else rather than whatever perceived or actual grievance you are dealing with. For me recently, it is when I let my guard down and slack off in my daily prayer life, and that has been true the past few days. Satan is always looking for a chink in the armor, a place to enter into, and when our first line of defense--prayer--is down, we are totally, totally vulnerable.

Nothing poisons a marriage more than unforgiveness. It is like plaque in an artery that builds up over time with resentment and bitterness and when it accumulates enough, can lead to a spiritual heart attack. It can literally destroy a marriage or family relationship. It should not be underestimated.

Now when you hear of this in marriages it is a large percentage of time a wife who is struggling to forgive her husband for something. But men can struggle with hurt and unforgiveness too, even though the perceived faults are less than obvious. Big things like infidelity or betrayal can be the sources of struggle in forgiving, but it can also manifest itself in the smallest acts of perceived betrayal. The temptation is to lord the hurt over the other person and act out of stubbornness, holding it close to our chest and refusing to let go.

• Forgiveness is not a feeling; it is an act of the will.

Sometimes I have to really pray hard, I mean really hard, and grit my teeth, to come to a place of letting go. Demons can be stubborn like that, but our free will, that supreme gift of God, holds the capacity to move us beyond emotion and makes decisions to do right or do wrong irrespective of how we feel about it. Forgiveness is an act of love, and love is an act of the will; it wills the good of another.

• Refusing to forgive cuts us off from God's grace.

I find it hard to pray or worship when I am holding on tight to the bitter cup of unforgiveness. This, or course, makes it harder to get out of, and when we are holding so tightly our hands are not open to receive grace. We need to beg forgiveness of those who we have wronged and who have wronged us, and of God, for He will not forgive our trespasses unless we forgive those who trespass against us. (Mt 6:15). Do I get that? Do I get that Jesus himself said God will not forgive my sins unless I forgive others? Talk about heavy.

• Unforgiveness is a puss-filled wound that festers the longer it stays in our spirit.

It's an unsettling and grievous feeling to live in a state of unforgiveness. Honestly, it's not my usual state. Why am I struggling so much in this instance? What's off? I made a choice not to forgive quickly out of spite, hurt, and pride, and I am paying the price this morning.

• Unforgiveness binds you; it is a prison, one you lock yourself into while holding the key

God forgives quickly, and does not hold our sins over our head. "If you kept a record of our sins, Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness; therefore you are feared." (Ps 130:3).

• Forgiveness is a heart issue; the reasons for grievances, valid or invalid, are largely irrelevant

"For out of the heart comes evil thoughts..." (Mt 15:19) It starts in the heart. It may be a large thing or a small thing that we perceive to have grieved us, and it is even harder when it seems to come from people close to us whom we love. We may be justified in our head, but the heart holds the key to unbinding the spirit.

• Unforgiveness is Satan's way of making us into little gods trying to usurp authority from God Himself. 

He tempts us to follow his path, his fall from Heaven, through lack of humility, rage, and impotent grasps for power. It may feel temporarily gratifying for a brief moment, but it is a rotten satisfaction. It tricks us to draw us away from God, the Devil's strategy. Satan fell because he would not submit to God's rightful authority, but wanted it for himself. Let's not be like him.

• A lack of prayer opens the door to a spirit of unforgiveness to make a home in us. Humble and penitent prayer for help in forgiving is the antidote.

Pray for the grace to forgive, exercise the will to carry it out (it hurts, chaffs against our sinful nature), and do it quickly. It is like clearing out the plague of the arteries, so that fruitful prayer and sanctifying grace can once again find a home in us, for it can't live there as long as unfogiveness is making a residence.


I am so sorry, Lord. I need your help. I need help to let my hurt and anger go. I am really hurting and struggling to forgive my wife, and I need you. I want to be made right. Thank you for putting a thorn in my side and recognizing my sinfulness. I am a fallen man, and I need You. Thank you for the grace of Your forgiveness. Please forgive me, and help me to forgive.

Do I Regret My Masters Degree In Theology? I'm Glad You Asked...

I moved to Philly a few years after graduating from Penn State in 2001. I had spent the year after college running a recovery house in Harrisburg and volunteering half-time as an assistant to the chaplain at Dauphin County Prison and living on my savings. It was around this time I was actively discerning monastic life, but had to make a living as well in the meantime. I took a job as a bike messenger, delivering packages and certified letters to law offices throughout the city, from "river to river, Vine to Pine." Then I got a job as a long-term substitute at a Catholic primary school in Oxford Circle, teaching English, Science, and Religion to 7th graders. After that gig was up, I worked in case management for individuals with developmental disabilities and forensic recovery, and it was about this time I started thinking about applying to graduate school. 

I told myself if I ever went back to school it would be for something I was actually interested in and passionate about. I was deciding between two different routes--a MFA in Creative Writing at Temple, and a MA in Theology. There were three programs I was considering for Theology--Lasalle, Villanova, and St. Charles Seminary. I was working full-time so wanted to stay in the city, and wasn't willing to move for a program. 

Lasalle's program was a little weak, though I did know an enthusiastic guy from the Philly Young Adult group who was in their program for Youth Ministry or something. I visited St. Charles in Overbrook and spoke with the Dean. She said something which at the time did not register, but in retrospect I remember as significant enough to stay with me, "we teach the Truth here." As a left-of-center Catholic at the time, the statement of orthodoxy seemed stiff and off-putting, and while the program at St. Charles was significantly less expensive, I decided instead I was better suited to attend Villanova. I spoke with the graduate program director, applied, and was accepted.

I took one course a semester, working during the day and traveling to campus once a week in the evening. My first class was a summer seminar course on Romans. It was my first theology course ever, and it was not for beginners. Every night I went home and looked up words in the dictionary--I had no idea what 'hermeneutics' was, or 'eschatology' or 'parousia'. I was surrounded by smaht kids and I was out of sorts. To add to the challenge, I was fighting an extreme bout of clinical depression, hardly able to get out of bed, my brain and body like molasses. My mom would have to drive an hour to my apartment, pick me up, take me to class, and wait outside the SAC for me to finish, then drive me back to my apartment...a true act of maternal love. I struggled and struggled, but got an A- in the class. The remaining five years in the program, one course a semester, was a grind, as my diagnosis was just beginning to manifest itself in an intense way. In one bout of mania, I emailed the entire faculty with a frenzied idea for a convoluted thesis proposal. When things started to spiral and I was too sick to continue that semester, I took a leave of absence, but came back the following term and ended up graduating by sheer force of will and grace in 2009 with a 3.8 GPA. 

Why did I want to go to grad school in the first place? What was my motivation? As a new Catholic of less than five years, I was enthusiastic about wanting to serve the Church and live for God, and figured it was a logical next step to learn more about how to do that, from an academic perspective. I (naively) figured it would help me be a better Catholic, a better future monk, and to learn effective ways to transmit the kerygma and the tools to teach apologetics, defending the Truth of the Catholic faith I had fallen in love with. I thought even if I didn't end up becoming a monk, I could go into campus ministry or serve the Church in some way. 

If anyone in those shoes would ask me today, anyone who cared about their faith and orthodoxy and evangelism and Truth, I'd tell them in all honesty to think long and hard before pursuing a Masters degree in Theology. Here's why:

1) You can learn everything you need to do know about the Faith in the Catechism, which can be accessed online for free, by anyone, anywhere, through the Vatican's website. Or, as the famous line in Good Will Hunting goes when Will encounters a first year Harvard grad student at a local bar: "You dropped a hundred fifty grand on an education you could have gotten for a dollar fifty in late charges at the public library."

2) The program was engaging in the sense that you were encouraged to "ask the questions," but there was a flip side on the negative to this approach. In constantly "asking the questions" while never really coming to definite answers, it encouraged a kind of intellectual or philosophical masturbation. I did have one Thomistic professor, but he was the exception rather than the norm. I realize an academic discipline such as Theology was not akin to catechesis, but I just felt like the exploration came at the expense of definitive Truths taught in the classroom.

3) We probably ended up studying the works of just as many Protestant theologians as Catholic theologians. I think there's value in that in some ways for balance sake, but it's just peculiar looking back. Something to be aware of.

4) It didn't encourage a simple, trusting, child-like faith. My professors were very nice and learned, but devotion and submission to authority were not ideals held up to be emulated. Theology in this context was about pushing boundaries rather than arriving at definitive destinations. 

5) I guess I shouldn't have expected this in the first place, but I didn't really learn any effective and practical ways to help make disciples or spread the Gospel. It was a strictly academic, heady kind of knowledge that did me little good in the real world (aside from honing writing and citation style). No one really seemed to be on fire for the faith, but were instead suspicious of it. I was naive, I admit. But still disappointed in the end.

6) Your job prospects are limited. Campus ministry and DRE positions don't pay much, so your ability to support your family is challenged from the start, especially if you have loans to repay. Better to go into something where you can support a family, raise a family, witness to the faith by your family, and study the classics and read about the lives of the saints on your own. If you do want to go into these fields, just do it with your eyes wide open.

7) You really have to be careful about orthodoxy. Some programs are outright dissident, some less so but still not orthodox. I had to 'unlearn' quite a bit as I came closer to the Faith after grad school, and realized nothing I learned in grad school helped me become a better Catholic or encouraged me to practice the virtues personally. If it's not helping you become a saint, and even works against it...well, maybe it's best to leave it behind.

8) Liberal Christianity is a dying game. The days of the Jesus Seminar and all that nonsense have run their course. When liberal Christianity gets conflated and indistinguishable from an MSW program, you know something valuable has been lost and is no longer worth dying for.

This was my experience. I'm sure there are more reasons I would dissuade anyone who cares about their faith and regards it as a pearl of great price thinking about pursuing a degree in Theology. Do I regret it? Like all things, I think God used the experience and brought good out of it in the end, if nothing else. I was also in a different place in my faith journey during that time, so Truth and orthodoxy chaffed, like an itchy shirt that was a size too small. Thank God for His patience with me, and His grace and forgiveness, that I would encounter people in my life who quietly challenged my preconceptions about stodgy conservatism by the way their lived their lives, and the fruit it bore, and the Truth it attested to. As St. John Chrysostom said in his "Homilies on the Gospel of John":

"What shall we then do that we may be saved? Let us begin the practice of virtue, as we have opportunity. And when we have got into the habit of this virtue, let us go to another, just as in the things we learn at school, guarding what is already gained, and acquiring others."

A Life of Leisure

When I was in college I was a backpacking instructor with the Penn State Outing Club. In the academic department one could pursue a graduate degree program and take classes in something called "Leisure Studies." I assume it was just as it sounded--the academic discipline of studying how people spend their spare time and how to develop programs that cater to a society with a lot of free time on their hands. Cue the "underwater basketweaving" jokes.

Leisure is something relatively new in the past hundred years. It used to be that people had to work a lot, whether in fields or factories, just to have enough to eat. Cooking, cleaning, laundering, and taking care of the livestock and homestead occupied much of any free time that might be left over. In the post-war 1950's you started seeing ads for "convenience" items like dishwashers and washing machines to make life easier. About that time television sets were slowly finding themselves in American homes to fill the vacuum of this new found free time that people had on their hands.

We have found as a family that since moving into a bigger house, the "stuff" tends to expand and fill the new space. That is, no matter the size of the house, what you own will fill out the space, and if aren't diligent you'll end up buying or accumulating things because "why not?" There are some days when I do miss our little 1,100 square foot row house; it just seemed easier to stay on top of.

Now don't get me wrong, having some free time to ourselves is nice. But it works kind of like the house example above--the more leisure time we have, the more we try to 'fill it' with stuff for the sake of having something to do, and in doing so, we risk a self-centric forgetfulness of our eternal trajectory if indulged in too much. A PhD in "Leisure Studies" would be laughable fifty years ago, but today it's par for the course. Industries spawn in response (think R.E.I, Easter Mountain Sports, etc)--spend your weekend kayaking, boating, snow shoeing, etc. And of course, that requires gear, which requires you to spend money, which keeps these places in business.

Now, I'm all about "work smart not hard," but there's really something to be said about hard work and not "conveniencing"
every last thing. When I have too much leisure time on my hands--time spent indulging my senses with food and drink, entertainment, distraction, and relaxation, (like on vacation)--I tend to get a little hung-over, sensory-speaking. It's nice for a day or two, but more than that and I start to get disgusted with myself. When I spend a day working outside chopping wood or mowing the lawn, or serving in a volunteer capacity, on the other hand, I come home feeling tired and with a sense of accomplishment. When we are constantly serving the self, when we have everything we could possibly want at our disposal, when we have more free time than we know what to do with--I think it's kind of a breeding ground for unhappiness. For myself, the times I am most unhappy are those times when it's just about me.

In the Gospel of Luke Jesus tells a parable about a "rich fool" living the life of leisure:

"The ground of a certain rich man produced a good crop. He thought to himself, 'what shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.'
Then he said, 'This is what I'll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I'll say to myself, "You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; east, drink, and be merry.'
But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?'
This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich towards God." (Lk 12: 18-21)

Concerned only with himself and eating, drinking and being merry, he is caught off guard when the day of reckoning comes, soft from all that leisure time.

Men do best when we have purpose or a task to complete, when we get out of ourselves, and have the opportunity to work hard. That's why you see the seeds of discontent and radicalism being sown in areas where high percentages of men are unemployed, sitting around all day, with no opportunity for meaningful work.

Men and young men have real potential to great things when pushed, but our current culture of leisure works against this. My dad had a saying growing up--"too much of anything is no good." It's not good to work eighty hours a week and never rest. It's also not good to lay around the house all day not working and just satisfying the senses. Good to find a balance, but err on the side of hard work, because it is good for our spirit. "A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest--and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man." (Prov 6:10-11)

Take Captive Every Thought

I have a distinct memory of a supreme moment of disillusionment as a boy. It is a trite example but has lodged itself in my subconscious for over 25 years and so it makes me think it is important. Maybe it holds the key to something if I ever get into therapy.

I was maybe 11 or 12 years old, throwing a ball around the basement with my brothers. The ball had rolled away, and I went to where I was sure it had rolled to (behind a piece of furniture). To my dismay, it wasn't there, but had rolled to another part of the room instead. I stared, thinking "this isn't right, it's supposed to be HERE." I had constructed the predicted ball-retrieval scenario and it simply wasn't playing out in reality as it had in my mind. It touched a nerve--I got upset, then angry. It was pretty ridiculous. But why?

As I got older I encountered other scenarios where this played out. I would go to parties and construct a scenario prior to how my grand entrance would play out--people would stop and yell out "Rob's here!", hand me a drink, and it would all go according to the rendering in my head. Until I arrived, and it didn't. Or you meet a girl for the first time expecting her to be a certain way, or the conversation to go in one direction, and it doesn't. Or I'd buy clothes from Banana Republic trying to look like the guys in the catalogs. But I didn't. Expectations often turn to disappointment when reality doesn't "live up" to our artificial mental construct of these various scenarios. I wonder if I'm the only one who has ever gone through this.

My mind can really get away from me sometimes. A strange case in point. One day Deb was supposed to be home from work at a certain time, and wasn't. I tried calling out of curiosity where she was, and she didn't answer. It got later, and she still hadn't arrived. A scenario started playing out in my head, not unlike the ball incident from when I was younger--she was obviously dead, and was most likely in a car accident on 95. She wasn't answering her phone because she was crushed between the seat or something horrible like that. It was only a matter of time before a police officer or the hospital would call and just confirm what I knew to be true already. I was beside myself, pacing, and figuring out how I would go through the rest of my life without her.

Well, it turns out she had her ringer off, she had stopped off at Staples to get a three ring binder, and she and her car were fine. It was the strangest thing....when I head the tires on the gravel in the driveway, and her get out of the car, it was like seeing a ghost, a resurrected body back from the grave. She was dead...and now is ALIVE! I was overjoyed at seeing her, dropped to my knees and hugged her hard, and it was like a new chapter in my life was taking place. She had come back to life.

Crazy right? This is what happens when your mind gets away from you. It wasn't fair to Deb, and it was sure hard on me, when it didn't have to be. When fantasy and reality meet, it is like two strangers encountering each other, aliens from other planets. But reality is what was there all along. Only one thing was really real.

I did, thankfully, eventually get to a point in my life where I realized the catalog photo-shoots, the TV dramas, the expectations in my head--it was all a construct, and would never square with 'real life.' So better to just drop these expectations. We suffer a bit when we choose to live in these 'artificial zones' of consciousness, and not see things for how they really are. I still suffer some when my mind races ahead, but the words of St. Francis de Sales reign me back in:

“Do not fear what may happen tomorrow. The same loving Father who cares for you today will care for you tomorrow and every day. Either he will shield you from suffering or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace then and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginings.”

St. Paul says to "take captive every thought, and make it obedient to Christ" (2 Cor 10:5). Dwelling on the past and worrying about the future don't do anyone good, but it can be hard sometimes not to fall into it. Good practice to pray for wisdom to discern truth from lies, for the Devil will always try to get your mind out of the present, the task at hand that God is calling us to, and obsess about things that aren't really there.

In the end, it's always to our benefit to face reality head on, even when it causes us pain. So, stay rooted in the present, with an eye to the future, and a remembrance of the past. Don't fall trap to the lies and expectations of how things "should be,"--whether people, places, or things--for in doing so you negate what actually is. When storms come up, pray, and keep focused on the task--the work of Christ--at hand in that very moment. Take captive every thought, in the name of Jesus, and submit your mind to the Spirit.

Reality will never square with the constructs we build in our mind. Better to just leave them behind.

Conversion, Chapter 3: From The Pit

3.

Buoyed from surviving my weekend solo backpacking trip in Lackawanna County, I decided to set loftier goals and hike the Appalachian Trail from Maryland to New Hampshire after graduation. I recruited a friend to come with me for two weeks across PA, after which time I would continue on solo. 

It was a great adventure, but when the time came for my friend to leave after two weeks on the trail with me, I was right back to the same isolation and loneliness that I had experienced before. One night, homesick and crying quietly in an Adirondack-style shelter where I was spending the night, I took about a small bible that a friend's mom had given me before I left. I had never really read the Bible before, but I turned to the Psalms and read:

"I waited patiently for the LORD;

And He inclined to me and heard my cry.

He brought me up out of the pit of destruction,

out of the miry clay,

And He set my feet upon a rock

making my footsteps firm." 

(Ps 40:1-2)

It was comforting to read, that the Lord would "hear my cry" and care for me, care about me and what happened to me. I didn't have much in my pack, as I was traveling light, but that little bible meant a lot to have with me.

I never made it the whole way to New Hampshire, bowing out in New York state, and spent the rest of the summer before my freshman year of college at home, embarrassed to admit to my friends that I hadn't finished what I had set out to accomplish. The friend who had hiked with me for two weeks was Catholic, he came from a family of 7 and I knew his mother was a devout person. I imagine she was praying for us on the hike, and maybe some of those prayers were for me specifically.

During this time, I was like the Ethiopian eunuch in the Book of Acts who replies to Phillip when asked if he understands what he was reading, "How can I, unless someone explains it to me?" I didn't know any people who were Christians besides my best friend Andy who I could talk to and ask questions. It wasn't until I got to Penn State that I would go to my first Mass and take the first steps to becoming Catholic.

[cont]