Santa and The Wise Men

My two-year old grandson Noah likes to have Santa stand alongside The Wise Men at our nativity scene. Noah knows that Christmas is Jesus’ birthday. He also knows that birthdays are lots of fun. And Santa is the fun Christmas guy so why not make him part of the celebration? So we mix our fantasy with theology here. Or is it the other way around? Either way Santa has “come to adore Him” at our house.Santa and The Wise Men

Christmas is always a mixed bag. We embrace the secular (you know because we actually live in the world) and we exchange gifts and write letters to Santa and leave cookies and reindeer food and all the rest. And we go to Mass and sing and pray and shout the joy of our Savior’s birth. We we are a bi-celebratory family! If Noah is a little confused about where Santa belongs, it’s not surprising. And it’s also okay with me. Santa, a guy who is spreading love around like mad, is welcome in my home.

Our family usually plays a game on Christmas Eve called “Rob Your Neighbor” – everyone brings a few small gifts (some are gag gifts and some are treasures). All the gifts are beautifully wrapped, concealing their simplicity or beauty or hideousness. After all the gifts are doled out and unwrapped revealing their value or lack thereof we then roll dice to see who can “rob” the most from their “neighbor” until the time runs out. When the bell chimes what’s left is what you get. Often there is fevered excitement trying to obtain the few treasures amongst the cache of gifts.

This year we toyed with the idea of changing the game to “Love Your Neighbor” with the idea of giving the treasured gift(s) to another but that seemed a little lame for our family. We like our mercenary little game of theft and avarice. And there is always plenty of laughter while we’re fighting over the treasured items. And in our game we are loving one another in our own slightly twisted and aggressive sort of way.

This morning at Mass, Father Joe reminded us that God is love and that we will find that love in those sitting next to us in the pew. I looked at my family and I saw God there. Then Father Joe told us that God is in us. That was a little harder for me to imagine until my four-year old granddaughter Anna looked up at me and smiled her sweet innocent smile. I suppose she might have seen a little glimpse of God in this tired old sinner. And now I have a new responsibility to her and her brother and the rest of the world. God is in me??? That changes everything.

Tonight it occurred to me that if Santa can hang with the Wise Men and if God is in me then our silly little game BELONGS on Christmas Eve. It’s a celebration of our love. Everyone takes part and we all leave a little richer for the experience. God made us imperfect so that we can be perfected by His love. And if we play a few silly games along the way, so be it…

Peace,

Denis

Hope

Tragic. Horrific. Unimaginable.

These are just a few of the headline words used to express the shock and dismay of the merciless attack at Sandy Hook Elementary School on Friday morning. Children massacred – it’s still almost too painful to contemplate but I try to understand; to make some sense of it. But I cannot comprehend the hate so virulent in one individual that he would commit the most despicable crime against the most innocent of victims.

As a citizen I am outraged. As a parent and grandparent I am shaken. As a child of God I am broken-hearted.

HandsThere’s a part of me that wants to “put it away”; to not talk about it; not think about it. I would like to tell myself that it happened far away and was random and can NEVER touch me or my precious grandchildren. But as I write this, the tears stream down my face thinking of those grandfathers in Connecticut that won’t get to hold their grandsons and granddaughters on their laps again; who won’t hear giggles and see sweet smiles. Who will never again get another tight squeeze around the neck or a precious kiss on a craggy old face.

Today at Mass our priest asked us to lift up those families in prayer. He implored us to be THE PEACE that we can be in our own families; in our own communities.

I can’t undo the hideous attack that was perpetrated on those children in Connecticut but I can be an agent of peace. I can deplore violence. And I can defuse anger and hatred in my own life. I can try to love as Jesus taught us.

Won’t you join me? Let’s mend broken relationships. Let’s try to ease the pain of others. Let’s stop buying music, movies and video games that glamorize violence. Let’s ask our members of Congress to actively work on real gun control legislation. Let’s stop reacting to violence with more violence.

There is hope amidst the horror. And as we enter into the fourth week of Advent in preparation of the Christ Child, let’s truly create some peace on earth.

Peace,

Denis

The peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7

Prepare the Way

Advent 2012 -4A voice of one crying out in the desert: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”     Luke 3:4-6

Luke’s Gospel is actually recalling the words of the Prophet Isaiah. My personal rule is that any time the New Testament quotes the Old Testament we should probably pay attention because apparently it is something that bears repeating.

During Advent we are called to ‘Prepare the Way’. But what does that mean? This reading always leaves me with images of giant earth-movers, backhoes and dump trucks frantically lowering hillsides and filling in ditches and chasms. But is that what Isaiah had in mind? I don’t think so. I believe that Isaiah was speaking metaphorically. I suspect that some of us are the valleys that need to be filled and others of us are the mountains that need to be toppled. And often, I suppose, we’re a bit of both.

I know that my own arrogance, pride and boastfulness need to be ‘made low’. My heart and spirit could use some ‘filling up’ right now. And of course there is plenty that needs to be ‘straightened out’ and ‘made smooth’.

So this Advent season when I hear those ancient words of Isaiah I am reminded that God is not asking me to fix the world. He is not expecting me to make others walk the straight and narrow. He is speaking only to me about me. He is asking me to prepare myself to receive his Son. To let go of my pride and my sinfulness and to be more loving and giving. God is inviting me once again to be filled with his Spirit. And to prepare myself to revel in the birth of our Savior.

Peace,

Denis

O Come Emmanuel

Today is the first Sunday of Advent; the beginning of our preparation for the Christ-Child. And as we do most years, we sang ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’ at Mass this morning. That beautiful and mournful and hopeful hymn that has always been part of my life touched my heart in a new way this year.

O come, O come Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel; that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear

Lonely exile. LONELY EXILE. LONELY EXILE! Those two words kept reverberating in my head. And that’s how I felt (how I feel). In lonely exile here. Our Church has been so busy lately defining what it means to be a Catholic Christian that I feel marginalized.

If you vote for this person you CAN’T really be Catholic; if you support women’s ordination you CAN’T really be Catholic; if you love and support gay families you CAN’T really be Catholic; if you don’t walk in lock step with the Bishops then you CAN’T really be Catholic.

And so I’m an exile. I refuse to exclude; to hate; to judge; to deny love to those who may not follow ALL the rules.

I’ve decided to join the other ‘lonely exiles’ in prayer this Advent season. I will pray for (and with) others in my Church who may feel disenfranchised; who feel left out; shut out; and alone. We may be silenced but our silent prayers cannot be stopped. And we are companions on the journey. God alone listens to our hearts and responds.

O come, Desire of nations, bind in one the hearts of all humankind; Bid thou our sad divisions cease, And be thyself our Prince of Peace.

Advent 2012May you find love, joy, comfort, but mostly peace in this Advent season.

Peace,

Denis

God Bless America?

We often hear politicians and others say, “God bless America”, as if somehow America deserves God’s blessings more than any other place else on earth (or the universe).

Since returning to the United States from England I have been inundated with political ads and Facebook posts imploring us to return to the Christian values that America was founded upon. My favorite post is one that shows Jesus superimposed over the Stars and Stripes. I’m pretty sure Jesus never owned an American flag (or anything else for that matter). There’s another one that shows the White House with the caption, “Remember when God lived here?” Really???

Why do some people want to make God so small? Why reduce God to someone who only has concern for us? Our country? Our party? Our faith tradition? God doesn’t love Americans or America any more than he loves anyone or anywhere else. He doesn’t love Christians more than Jews or Muslims. If we REALLY believe in God and believe what Jesus taught us, then we should be asking God to bless our enemies (which He already does, but it would be nice to ask).

Jesus preached love. He preached unity and inclusiveness. He preached wholeness to the brokenhearted and freedom to those that have been enslaved. Shouldn’t those of us who call ourselves Christians do the same? Aren’t we supposed to love our enemies?

All God’s Children

Maybe we should ask God to bless Afghanistan or Iran or Libya. Maybe we should ask God to forgive our hatred and prejudice. God did not create me to hate me. Why would I expect any less for the rest of God’s creation?

We are free to believe what we want. To worship where and how we choose. To build walls or bridges. But we have no right to claim God for ourselves. We can try to put God in a box or a building or a temple or a tabernacle but that only proves our human limitation. And God can’t be minimized no matter how we might wish to. Recently my four year-old granddaughter said it best, “Daddy, church isn’t really God’s house.” “He lives inside us!”

Well said Anna. He lives inside us, no matter where that might be…

Peace,

Denis

Fear Not

In his first Inaugural address Franklin Roosevelt said “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” That was nearly 80 years ago and sadly today our nation seems to be more fearful than ever. Shouldn’t life in America be better than it was in Roosevelt’s day? Advances in medicine alone should make life today less fearful – no Polio or Rubella or Small Pox. Technological improvements make communication instantaneous – my mom will tell you about writing letters to my dad 60 years ago while he was overseas and not getting a reply for months. My blog is free but you might have spent 5 or 10 cents on a newspaper in the 1930’s to read drivel like this. So life is better today! Then why do so many people live in fear?

Politicians seem to be great fear mongers. So are media personalities, insurance sales persons, and some clergy. Fear can be a powerful tool; just look at any political ad. Listen to any talk radio loud mouth or attend a church service and you likely be warned about some impending evil – life is scary but if you vote for me, buy my product, or follow my religion you will be safe (or safer anyway). Fear is an excellent marketing tool.

Fear has fuelled hate and prejudice. Fear has gotten us into wars. Fear begets fear. Be afraid – be very afraid!

But I for one refuse to be ruled by fear. I will not vote for you because you want me to be afraid of your opponent. I will not buy your product, listen to your propaganda or read your book because of some vague threat of evil or danger (despite your warnings). I will not buy into your fear game. And I will not follow your religion (and your rules) because of some fear of hell.

Instead I will hold my head up high and embrace the good in this world. I will take an active role in promoting peace and justice (if only in my small circle of influence). I will love God and be thankful for life in all its forms.

I want to be a role model to my grandchildren. I want them to explore the world and all its wonder and be forces for good. I want them to be ambassadors of good will; agents for positive change; lovers of justice and protectors of our planet.

Sometimes we have to stand up for what is right. And shout down the hate and inequality in our lives. Some of us will take the lead, some will follow and still others will stand silent.

But fear should never motivate us. Love should.

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Emeli Sande’s song speaks to triumph over fear – give it a listen or better yet, let it be your anthem.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFXRQKYFbXE&feature=related

School Days

My granddaughters have returned to school – Charlise second grade; Anna pre-Kindergarten. Both love school and are happy for the school year to begin.

Of course it’s impossible for me not to think of school years past – my children’s and my own. What an exciting time: new pencil cases, new notebooks, new folders, new Trapper Keepers®, new lunch boxes. A new beginning…

I always love a new beginning. And a new school year is exactly that. It’s a clean slate. Even someone who doesn’t like school (as I sometimes didn’t) is usually happy for a new school year. Maybe you’ll get a better teacher, find some new friends or have easier classes. At the very least (in theory) you can leave behind the baggage of the previous year and try again. And for those who are good students you can continue to build on your good reputation, Grade Point Average, and PERMANENT RECORD.

As a grown-up I sometimes long for a new school year. A clean slate. A do-over.

And I’ve discoverd it’s possible! I start by first looking inside myself and examining what’s in my heart and soul. Then I pray. I first ask God to forgive me (and my PERMANENT RECORD). Then I ask for the courage to leave behind ‘the baggage’; to let go of the hurt, anger, and dissapontment that breeds bitterness. And finally I ask for the wisdom (still trying to learn) to live a new life. To love a new life. To be an example to my children and grandchildren.

And of course I will fail. I will behave badly. I will refuse to love and be loved. And I will forget to thank God for the gift of my life.

And then a new school year will come ’round again…

Peace,

Denis

Funny Trumps All

In our family we have a saying, “Funny trumps all!” We’re a family that likes to laugh – a lot. In fact it’s hard for me to remember a day that I haven’t shared a laugh with my wife of 37 years. Sometimes we’ve even laughed through our tears. And Deb has taught our children and grandchildren the joy of laughter, too. Of course it helps that we’re all very funny as well. Or at least we think we are. Okay – we are!

Sometimes the need to be funny can be a challenge. Because I come from a family that tells jokes at funerals (my dad) and will make faces when you’re trying to have a serious telephone conversation (Deb and our ill-behaved children). And then of course there’s the deadpan sarcasm (my mom) and the dry sense of humor (my sister-in-law Pat) which at times leaves you wondering if it’s really a joke and that perhaps you shouldn’t be laughing.

And we find situations funny all the time. Our humor is not sophisticated. We will laugh at your jokes (even if we’ve heard them or told them before). We will laugh if you stumble and fall down. We will laugh if you fart. We will laugh at the absurd (like a waitress that has giant “cotton candy” hair) or the mundane (like the way my father-in-law ALWAYS warns us to look out for “the crazies” out there – who are the crazies?). We will laugh at spills, mistakes, mispronunciations, missteps, goof-ups, and someone who has missed a belt loop.

But mostly we laugh at ourselves. And that is the healthiest laughter of all. Being truly funny means understanding and embracing your own foolishness. There’s something disarming about laughter, especially when the laughter is at your own expense.

And remember that God must have a sense of humor, too. If you don’t believe me, take a good look in the mirror first thing in the morning.

Nothing feels better than a belly laugh

So when it doubt, laugh! Laugh out loud. Laugh a lot. Giggle. Snicker. Guffaw. Snort. It feels good and is good for you. I believe a good laugh can clear the cobwebs from your brain. It can ease your burden. Dull your pain. Lift your spirits. And lighten your load.

This being funny thing has successfully been passed down through the generations. My grandkids are funny and they know it. Once when our granddaughter was being scolded (I’m not sure what her offense) our daughter told her “Anna, you are not funny!” Anna responded with a wry smile, “I’m a little funny.” And the scolding ended.

I suppose that funny does trump all.

Peace,

Denis

The Vatican Seems To Want It Both Ways…

Those of you who follow my blog know that I am Catholic (unless of course I’ve been excommunicated and haven’t received the paperwork yet). My conservative Catholic friends would say I’m not the average Catholic but I’d disagree. I’m probably more mainstream than they are – just more vocal.

Anyway, Catholic leaders mobilized earlier this year when the Obama administration announced that church-affiliated organizations would be required to provide health insurance plans that include contraceptives for women free of charge. Angry Catholics insisted that the ruling infringed on the their first amendment right to freedom of religion.

Can’t we all just get along?

Recently Pope Benedict stated: “Defending the institution of marriage as a social reality is ultimately a question of justice since it entails safeguarding the good of the entire human community and the rights of parents and children alike.”

So now I’m confused. On this issue of contraception Church leaders say in effect, that government should stay out of our bedrooms. Because insistence upon government mandated coverage of contraceptives is a violation of our religious beliefs – okay, I get that. But then the Church says who we decide to share our bedroom with should be ‘Church sanctioned’. It seems that Church leaders want the government involved in this most intimate decision. That the sanctity of marriage should be defended by government; in essence the government should stay in our bedrooms. Therein lies the conflict.

So separation of Church and State is a “pick and choose” kind of thing? I’m often accused of being a ‘Cafeteria Catholic’ – one who chooses which teachings to follow and which to reject or ignore. Never mind that I have a conscience, my arch-conservative friends would be more comfortable with me if I would just blindly follow the hierarchy’s rules. But that’s too easy and an insult to the intellect God gave me.

Here’s what I propose:

Church take care of Church things. Exclude whomever you want. Make up whatever rules you want to impose upon your faithful. And deal with the fallout.

Government (read conservative politicians) stop pandering to the fears of the citizenry. People of reasonable intelligence can (and should) decide with whom to share their life. And when (and if) to have children. If the faith community that they belong to can’t embrace their love and life decisions; it’s that community’s loss.

Blimey, I’m even more glad to be living in England right now!

Peace,

Denis

Rogue Nuns

A plaque at Plaza Mayor depicting the punishment inflicted on the unorthodox during the time of The Spanish Inquisitions

The Vatican recently accused U. S. nuns, specifically the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), of radical feminism because they focus more on the human rights and the poor, rather than pushing Church doctrine against contraception and homosexuals. 

This was the lead article that I was reading on my iPhone that was streaming from The National Catholic Reporter the day that I happened to be sitting in Plaza Mayor in Madrid, Spain. The irony did not escape me. The Vatican, particularly arch-conservative Cardinal Raymond Burke and pedophile protector Cardinal Bernard Law, is now targeting “rogue nuns”. As I sat in the very place that The Spanish Inquisitions took place, I couldn’t help but think that Burke and Law, like Ferdinand and Isabella, must feel very confident that they are purifying the Church and maintaining Catholic Orthodoxy – cleansing it of those who would dare to question the hierarchy.

God bless our rogue nuns! What the bishops fail to realise is that WE are the Church and that WE have been heavily shaped by the love and nurturing of those religious women in our lives. Cradle Catholics like myself were often taught by sisters who sacrificed their personal lives to enrich our own. My own three aunts were Sisters of The Most Precious Blood and tirelessly gave of themselves day in and day out – building up the Kingdom of God on earth. But mostly the nuns that I knew (and know) loved us. Lived with us. Laughed with us. Cried with us. And faced the joy and heartache of life with us. If they questioned official Church teaching it was only because they walked with us as we ourselves questioned a hierarchy that at times seems woefully out of touch with our lives.

So bring it on Vatican! Silence the nuns! Demand obedience above all! Threaten excommunication! But the love that these women have inspired and The Church that they have built will never go away!

I think of my Aunts Lucy, Noel, and Gene Marie and thank God daily for their presence in my life. I think of great teachers: Thecla – who inspired in me a love of architecture and design (and was instrumental in my career choice), Jeanine – who gave me the opportunity to speak in public (some folks wish I would shut up now), Fidesta – who always made learning fun (even when she was a little bit scary), and so many more. I think of friends like Lucille who gave my family refuge when I transferred to Wisconsin for a new job (and left Deb alone with 3 small kids), Nivard who welcomed me to a new city when I was feeling very alone. And Helen, Dorothy, Mary, Ruth, Annette, Carol, Cindy, and countless others that have lived, loved, laughed, cried and walked with me.

We all know that the Spanish Inquisitions were really about power and never about love. The WE that is The Church will never abandon the Sisters that have built US. And loved US.

Come Holy Spirit Come!

Peace,

Denis