My son Blake tells me that he’s pretty sure we are all one consciousness. The universe experiencing itself; a pulse experienced through different hardware. He believes that unconditional love is the answer but what is the question?
He and I sometimes have these existential kinds of conversations. What is the meaning of life? Is there a God? Or is it all some elaborate myth? Were we “created” or do we exist because of some cosmic happenstance? Do we need God? Does God need us?
It makes me think. And wonder. And pray. And sometimes I wonder as I pray.
People behave badly. We murder. We rape. We abuse children. We discriminate based on religion, race, gender, ethnicity, and sexual orientation. We arm ourselves. We build walls. We exploit the most vulnerable amongst us.
Genesis tells us: God said: Let us make human beings in our image, after our likeness. But if ‘God is love’ why is there so much un-Godlike behavior happening in our world. If God made us in his (her) image why aren’t we loving one another? Why aren’t we lifting one another up? Why aren’t we caring for one another?
And then I crawl out of my hole and look around. I see every little loving thing that my wife does each day for me and countless others. I see my friends who have often lifted me up during times of heartache and self-doubt. I realize that I am cared for not just by friends and family but by strangers who work for peace and justice in our world.
My grandson Noah asked me recently, “Pawpaw, do you know what zeal is?” Before I could offer a definition he exclaimed, “It’s how God loves us and how God wants us to love others!” And I realize then that we do! We do love one another. We do lift each other. We do care for one another. Not always. Not all of us. Not often enough. But we do!
And perhaps that’s the question – why not always; why not all of us; why not often enough? Unconditional love is the answer. God was once again revealed to me through my seven year-old grandson. God is in the love we share; in the countless times that Noah has lifted me up from my gloominess and my self-pity; all the times that we have cared for one another. Noah full of zeal! Blake too has loved me and lifted me with his kindness; his sincerity; his goodwill. These two (uncle and nephew) come from very different places – physically and spiritually but God is there – loving; lifting; caring.
Evil exists. Bad things happen. But that’s not the end of the story. God has given us power over evil. We just need to share the gift of Love. Perhaps then others will ask the question – why not always? why not all of us? why not often enough?
Peace,
Denis
Last Sunday our granddaughter Charlise was confirmed in the Catholic Church. The bishop’s message was that it was indeed a special day and certainly deserving of the pomp and circumstance on display. However he reminded those being confirmed that he wasn’t dispensing magic but instead he was conveying the sacrament that was promised them at baptism. He also reminded these young people that Confirmation wasn’t just something to achieve but that by accepting God’s gift of the Holy Spirit they had an obligation to be transformed. To be agents of positive change in our world. Pretty heady stuff for 13 & 14 year-olds.
I believe that Charlise will meet the challenge to be changed; to be transformed. She will be an advocate for social justice and peace. She will love those who are at times unlovable (including yours truly); bring joy to those in sadness and sorrow; bring peace to our world in her deliberate and thoughtful manner; afford patience to those most in need of understanding; show kindness to those who are hurting; goodness in her manner and in her unselfishness; faithfulness to God and to all God’s creatures; gentleness in her strength and determination; and self-control in her lifestyle choices.
I had a driver who was from India and we spoke about Indian food that I have eaten and loved but he laughed out loud every time I spoke and nothing I said was truly funny. Maybe it was the way I pronounced chicken tikka masala (I’ll never know). We laughed and laughed!
At Mass last night I was contemplating this servant-serving thing. My back ached and my knees were sore from my afternoon of unexpected labor. I realized being humbled in the muck of my basement clean-up and repair, I had become a servant of sorts. But even more profoundly my son-in-law Travis had served me. And I had the grace to accept my defeat and allow his much-needed support.
Thank you for your kindness toward my granddaughter. Thank you for your time and talent with these precious girls. Thank you for helping them learn and letting them have fun. I know that Anna loves her team and loves to play. I also know that she lacks height and talent but she has heart and soul. You are teaching her valuable life lessons: teamwork & team spirit, willingness to try harder, self-confidence, and most importantly good sportsmanship. She may be the tiniest player on your team but you and I both know that she is almost always the first to take a knee when a teammate is hurt. You can teach her to play tough but you are also teaching her compassion. Thank you for your good example.
ostly a time of sacrifice and sinfulness for me. Promising to give up candy or soda or dessert and then not being able to keep the promise. So much pressure to be extra holy and sacrificial and so much guilt when I failed. I was sure that Jesus was very disappointed in me. After all, he suffered and died on the cross for my sins, so the least I could do was live for 40 days without Bazooka Bubblegum®.
Think about a favorite memory. Was it summer or winter? Spring or fall? That moment will never return but that season will. I’ve been told that we are creatures of habit, but I am also a creature of adventure. I need the security of the familiar, but I long for new experiences. I think that having seasons, those repetitions, those traditions, gives me an advantage while I summit the mountains; while I swim the oceans; while I explore the unknown. My life changes but soon it will be spring again and I will return to a familiar place.
Those are nice words but it’s not always an easy task, this honoring of your parents. Anyone with elderly parents will likely understand. At times it seems as if the roles have been reversed. My parents need more attention. They need more help. They need more understanding. They need more advice. They need more patience. They need more love. Their needs remind me of when we were raising our three children – always needing more than we had to give. And us always “running on empty” just doing the best we could.
The reality is that time (or a specific year) has little to do with how fulfilled I am in this life. Of course there have been plenty of crappy years but there have been many amazing years as well. We remember the year our well went dry (literally) – 1997 but we also cherish the memory of holding our newborns for the first time – so 1978, 1980 and 1983 were good years!
Mothers are powerful! Ask any woman who has cared for a sick child; wept for the loss of life; fought for her child’s acceptance; guarded her offspring without flinching; celebrated joy and comforted heartache; loved unconditionally. All while saying “yes”.
