Monday, May 28, 2012

Dragon slayer


"Heroes take journeys, confront dragons, and discover the treasure of their true selves." ~ Carol Lynn Pearson


Last week I registered my son for his junior year of high school. Because of his autism I often wondered how we were going to make it and now we're seriously talking about college.

So many dragons on his journey, but so many discoveries. The discovery I have made is that he is so sensitive, wise, and understanding – he's almost a mystic! His travels have served him well.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Thomas Kinkade: bringer of love & light to a dark world

"Lighthouse" by Thomas Kinkade
Popular American painter Thomas Kinkade died unexpectedly on Friday. He was 54. While reading about his life I was struck by one unusual thing.

According to an article in the San Jose Mercury News, this devout Christian did not use his art as a vehicle for self-expression, but instead as a way to give people what they wanted. He put a light in their lives that made them feel better in the darkness of today's world.

There may be other artists who have sublimated or sacrificed their own desires for their audience, but it's not the norm. Visual artists, musicians, and even performers use their gifts as a way to reach what is inside them – thoughts and feelings that cannot be put into words.

As a group, artists aren't known for their generosity, but instead this intense drive to discover themselves, at any and all costs. For many, the only time they can find peace is when they are in the creative moment. For some, the only joy comes from the adulation of others.

I wonder how and when Thomas Kinkade no longer needed to follow his own impulses, but instead had the great love to put others first. This is the spirit of Easter, bringing love and light to a dark world.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Fragile lives

Eleventh station of the cross at Christ in the Desert Monastery

Wednesdays are always special, because I can count on receiving an email from Christ in the Desert Monastery. This has become an important part of my spiritual journey.

The letters written by Abbot Philip Lawrence not only provide timely news from the Benedictine community, but also simple lessons on faith and life.This has been comforting for me, during this long stretch when I have been away from the Catholic Church.

This morning I read the upsetting news that on February 25 a lay volunteer and monastery resident had taken his own life. It was about the most shocking thing I could have read, but after reflecting on it for a while, I realized I should not have been surprised. This religious community, which draws its members from the outside world, is a reflection of that world. I know this because of lessons the Abbott has shared. They've erased any misconceptions that people who enter monastic life are somehow perfect, or far removed from the difficulties we all face. 

This struggling soul had served the community for more than 20 years. Among his many talents, he was skilled in woodworking. When I read this I wondered if he made the wooden crosses that are stationed outside the monastery, like the one pictured above.

Abbot Philip wrote that you could easily tell he was a man of deep faith, yet that did not rid him of his demons. I've been thinking that this man's desperate act is a reminder of how fragile we all can be, and how our pain is often kept hidden. If someone living in a close religious community can feel so much anguish he is driven to take his own life, then we should strive to be even more aware of suffering in those around us, out here in "the world."

Suicide is one of the last taboos in modern society. It's not something that is commonly discussed outside of groups that have been affected by it. Nevertheless, I've known people who have not only considered it, but tried it. I've known individuals who have lost family members to it. I once handled a suicide call while working in a hospital emergency room. The woman involved was "saved" just in time, but I have to wonder if she tried again and was not rescued.

One of the things I appreciate most about Abbot Philip's letters, is his honesty and openness about his own life, and his own personal battles. He writes that he was the child of alcoholic parents and the abuse he suffered caused him to live in numbing fear until he became an adult. From his remarks, I have noticed that psychological  healing from all that abuse has been slow, and continues to this day.

We are all so fragile. We all have our limits in what we can endure. And our endurance is constantly tested. Because of my personal history I have dealt with depression for most of my life. I was also raised in an alcoholic home. Everything that ever hurt me in life has been tied either directly, or indirectly to alcohol abuse by others. I have considered suicide many times, but by the grace of God, came close only once.

There is no place for guilt or shame when someone leaves this world by their own hand. It's a horribly violent act brought out of extreme suffering, which is not the fault of the survivors. It's true that other people can make our lives quite miserable, but the responsibility of self-murder lies with the individual.

As Christians we are expected to be there for one another. We are expected to try to bear each other's burdens, or at the very least, not make them any greater. In human relationships this is not always possible, and when someone commits suicide it becomes easier for the survivors to blame themselves, than live with the unanswered question of "why?" I can imagine this will be a very, very difficult time for the Christ in the Desert community, and all who loved this man, and I will be praying for them.

Apart from the loss of a friend to the community, in this week's email the abbot talks about penance. I'm not sure where I stand on this issue. There seems to be a difference between the act of doing penance as the church defines it, and the biblical repenting of sins. I do like the idea of being able to do penance on behalf of someone else, who may not be able to do it for themselves. Also, sometimes we find it hard to forgive ourselves from something we've done, even though we know God forgives us. Penance might be a way to help heal our own deep remorse. But those are only my thoughts -- I have no idea what church doctrine states on these issues.

As for as the Catholic Church, suicide, and the matter of penance, I believe the harsh archaic views have changed. Because of advances in science and our knowledge of the brain and how it works, we know that depression is a disease. Suicide is a result of unresolved depression, or some other psychiatric condition. I hope the church now looks upon suicide for what it is, a terrible tragedy. In any case, here is an online question and answer about the views of the Roman Catholic Church on suicide.

If you are in pain and thinking of suicide, please, please...call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at #1-800-273-TALK (8255).

Revised and re-posted on 3/17/12


Friday, February 24, 2012

Into the Fire


St. Augustine's Confessions must rank among the most passionate and beautiful in all of world literature. Here are some excerpts from Book I.

Great art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is Thy
power, and Thy wisdom infinite... 
Oh! that I might repose on Thee! Oh! that Thou wouldest enter
into my heart, and inebriate it, that I may forget my ills, and
embrace  Thee, my sole good! What art Thou to me? In Thy pity,
teach me to utter it. Or what am I to Thee that Thou demandest
my love, and, if I give it not, art wroth with me, and threatenest
me with grievous  woes? Is it then a slight woe to love Thee not?
Oh! for Thy mercies’ sake, tell me, O Lord my God, what Thou
art unto me. Say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. So speak, that I
may hear. Behold, Lord, my  heart is before Thee; open Thou the
ears thereof, and say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. After this
voice let me haste, and take hold on Thee. Hide not Thy face from
me. Let me die- lest I die- only let me see Thy face. 
Narrow is the mansion of my soul; enlarge Thou it, that Thou
mayest enter in. It is ruinous; repair Thou it. It has that within
which must offend Thine eyes; I confess and know it. But who
shall  cleanse it? or to whom should I cry, save Thee? Lord,
cleanse me from my secret faults, and spare Thy servant from the
power of the  enemy. 
Before I begin each day, and every night before I sleep, I read books on faith, in the hope that something will sink in and make me a godly person. It occurred to me last night that I should do less reading about God from another person's point of view, and instead simply spend more time with Him. Why shouldn't I get to know Him for myself, instead of relying on an interpreter?

The problem is, the surest and quickest way to meet God and be a friend to God, is to spend time with others, and serve others. In his writings Augustine tells us that God is everywhere and in everything, even in the depths of Hell. This means that He is not only "out there" somewhere, but inside each one of us. So what better place to meet God, than through each other?

I have always believed that we are here to serve and care for one other. But what if we reach a place in our lives where it is not so comfortable, doing that which we have always done with such ease? What do you do when advancing age, poor health, or some other "worldly" situation, distraction, or decline keeps you from being as close to God as you want to be – by talking, working, and sharing with others?

Something has changed in my life – several things. I won't be able, or even willing to do things the way I've always done.

Augustine's Confessions is the story of his lengthy conversion. As I read I can see just how much he is in love with God. He is desperate to be in the presence of his creator. Nothing less will do. He calls it a restlessness, and says that every person's heart should be on fire for God.

I wonder if I still have it in me, to risk being burned?

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Love is all there is


Tomorrow, February 12th, is Ash Wednesday. The observance is held on different dates, but always 40 days before Easter, to begin the season of Lent. The ashes are a sacramental expression of guilt and remorse.

The entire story of Christianity is about sin. It's about doing wrong, feeling remorse, admitting guilt, seeking forgiveness, receiving grace, and being redeemed by the blood of Christ. Everything hinges on sin. In a way perhaps we should be grateful for sin, because without it how would we have known just how far God was willing to go to save us? You might even think it was part of God's plan, except we know it wasn't.

I've been reading another book about the ministry of Mother Teresa, and the words I keep hearing in my mind as I read, are "Love is all there is...Love is all there is...Love is all there is."

Love is greater than sin. Love blots out sin. "Love covers a multitude of sins." 1 Peter 4:8

I know if we could see what sin looks like in our souls we would recoil instantly, because all sin is grotesque, even small ones. It's not a presence we want in our lives, spreading like a cancer onto everything we touch, and everyone we love.

I'm like a lot of children who don't learn their lessons the first time. I keep making the same mistakes over and over, and though they may appear like small infractions in the beginning – perhaps unnoticeable – by the end they have grown into monstrous tumors.

When I feel overwhelmed by my own guilt then I am feeling the weight of spiritual sin. It is so heavy I can't lift this burden on my own. I need a savior.