Saying ‘Yes’ to ‘No’

Recently there was a Medieval Fair in Oklahoma where my son and his family live. While driving past the fairgrounds our youngest granddaughter caught a glimpse of a sign that read, ‘Swords and Shields’ and declared that that was something she would love to have. Her hopes were dashed when my son said, “You are not getting a sword and shield!” Undeterred, she declared, “Looks like I’m going to have to take this into my own hands!” I’m not certain how an eight-year-old with no financial independence was going to manage purchasing the aforementioned sword and shield, but I admire her pluck. Personally, I would have honored her request, but I was reminded, once again, that parenthood requires discipline and denial.

Pondering Gwen’s resolve, I began thinking of the many times I have been denied and have remained silent. How often have I just accepted “no” as an answer? How often have I acquiesced to others’ policies and opinions? How many times have I witnessed fellow humans being dealt with unfairly but lacked the courage to speak up in order to ensure my own safety and privilege? How often have I chosen to “go along, to get along“?

It’s hard today to not become discouraged with our government and the chaos that we are being subjected to. Whether we are personally suffering or witnessing the suffering of those we love, our world is fraught with injustice. As Christians, we are all called to speak out against injustices when we see them and yet our pulpits often remain silent in the face of discrimination against immigrants, the disabled, minorities, elderly, and LGBTQ members of our society. Sometimes my frustration, hopelessness and anger are met with tears.

In his book, The Tears of Things, Richard Rohr writes, “Grief and sadness are doorways to understanding life in a non-egocentric way. Tears come from both awe and empathy, and they generate even deeper awe and deeper empathy in us. The sympathy that wells up when we weep can be life-changing, too, drawing us out of ourselves and into communion with those around us.”

So, I will let my tears fall but I also will stand up, speak up and say ‘yes’ to the naysayers. I will challenge the silent enablers. I still have a voice, a vote, a conscience, and a faith that tells me to care for the most vulnerable in our society. Gwen gives me courage. I’m taking things into my own hands. I will peacefully protest. I will continue to write to my senators and congressman. Most importantly, I won’t let my fears and tears keep me from speaking out against injustice.

As we enter Holy Week, let us remember that Jesus’ suffering and death is not in vain, instead, it is a profound expression of love for humanity. 

Peace,

Denis

She stood behind Jesus at his feet weeping and began to bathe his feet with her tears. Luke 7:38

Change(ing)

Each Lenten season I make an effort to become more prayerful, more tolerant, more forgiving. I always fall short of my goal. I try. I fail. And I try again. I recently read a meme that made me truly laugh out loud and then it almost immediately hit me over the head. It wasn’t funny at all. I went from laughter to discomfort to sorrow as I realized that this message was for me: “I can’t believe it’s been a year since I didn’t become a better person”. It went from, “ha, ha, you’re a jackass.” to “hey, you really are a jackass!”. A startling reality that requires change.

It occurred to me that Lent isn’t about change, it is about changing. It’s a verb. It’s an action. For some of us (me) changing is slow and painful and tedious and must be repeated over and over. I have to empty my heart of the anger, hate, and perceived injustice that I’m lugging around to make room for love and forgiveness.

I have to let go of my self-righteousness and my judgement of others. That’s a tall order. I’m really good at judging others. I can tell just by looking at some folks that I don’t like them. I preach tolerance but usually I find that I am often intolerant of others. If their political ideology or their worldview doesn’t align with mine, I want nothing to do with them.

I have to also let go of my pride, hurt, disappointment, and failure. I suppose we’re all guilty of holding on to painful experiences in our lives. How often have I allowed the unjust actions of others to keep me from fully loving them? How long have I carried hurt in my heart for the wrongs inflicted by others? Whether it was a past employer or an unkind neighbor or a friend or family member, it weighs me down when I can’t let go of the offenses. Worse still, is the pain that I carry for the times I have hurt others.

Forgiveness is about changing. First, I must own the hurt, the pain, and the disappointment. And then I must forgive the aggressors, especially when the aggressor is me. If I believe that God forgives me, why can’t I forgive others? And if I believe that God forgives me, why is it so hard to forgive myself?

Lent is a good time to “up” my game. Try to change. Try to forgive. Try again. Try harder. Fail. And repeat. And to remember that “I can’t believe it’s been a year since I didn’t become a better person”. And to thank God for the grace to keep trying.

Peace,

Denis

Forgive us, as we forgive others. Matthew 6:12

Walk, Meditate, Pray

Recently I received a missive from the Faith Community with which I am associated suggesting that I turn off my screen. Go for a walk, meditate quietly, or pray.

Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Easier said than done.

We’re being bombarded with 24-hour news that is mostly depressing if not entirely frightening. And I am afraid. I fear for my family members who are government employees not sure what to expect from day-to-day. I fear for families who may lose health and welfare aid that they rely on. I fear for our veterans who are being denied assistance. I fear for everything that is being undone by our current administration. The ultimate hardship and suffering of so many in our country and in our world is incalculable.

It was suggested that I write letters to my Congressional representatives. Many of our elected leaders have turned a blind eye to what is happening. Lawmakers have been instructed to literally hide from their constituents. My letters have gone largely ignored or answered with talking points instead of responding to my true concerns.

I also just read what Anne Lamott once wrote, “Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”

So, I am unplugging as much as I can. Again, not easy! And I will walk and meditate and pray.

This morning, I was praying for my grandson Noah who will be Confirmed next month. It seems like it was just a moment ago that he was a tiny baby in my arms and now he is a young man about to accept this gift of faith being offered to him. This is his opportunity to say “YES” to what his parents had asked of the Church. I pray that I am worthy to be his sponsor. At times I feel overwhelmed and underqualified. I hope to fear less and cheer more. Noah gives me hope and I find strength in his presence. My grandson is a fearless teenager. He is eager and ready to take on this world. His kindness and joy and devotion will change hearts. God has blessed us with one another. And our world will be better because of him.

As I receive my ashes today on Ash Wednesday, I will remember to send a thank you to organizations that are supporting Immigrants and Refugees in my area. I will lend a hand where I can. I will donate to shelters and food pantries. I will be present. I will listen. And I will thank God for a Faith Community that reminds me that I am not walking alone.

God may Your light guide my day, and Your Spirit bring me peace. Amen.”

Peace,

Denis

God With Us

Emmanuel is a Hebrew word that is made up of two parts: “Immanu” meaning “with us”, and “el” meaning God. So together, Emmanuel means “God with us.” The name Emmanuel reminds us that Jesus is not distant, but intimately present in our lives. It speaks to our need for connection with God. Here. Now. And forever.

At Christmas, my focus is often on Baby Jesus. The infant in the creche, the helpless child and his weary parents: homeless, alone and frightened. While I sit comfortably in my warm home surrounded by Christmas decorations and gifts and an excess of food, it’s challenging to relate to Jesus’ humble beginning. But then I think of my children as infants and the overwhelming concern I had for them. I remember too, my feelings of inadequacy. My need to protect them was constant, as was my fear of failure in trying to do so. I can only imagine how Joseph must have felt; disappointed at his inability to provide shelter; uncertain of his future with Mary and Jesus; fearful that he might fail.

During Advent we are reminded that we aren’t just awaiting the birth of our Savior in Bethlehem. We are also anticipating the awakening of our spirits in Christ, and His final coming at the end of time. When I reflect on those things I realize that I encounter Jesus every day. At Christmas we’re given new hearts capable of greater love. Our obstinance and unkindness can be removed. We can be free from our hearts of stone.

Recently, while Christmas shopping, I asked a cashier how she was holding up. I simply meant with the Christmas rush, the long hours, and the constant customer demands. She proceeded to tell me that she was having a tough time this year as this was the first Christmas without her husband. She said he had died on December 28th the previous year and she had taken this temporary job just to avoid Christmas preparations alone this year. She was just trying to “stay busy” and not focus on his absence. As her eyes filled with tears, I felt her pain. It was then that I was once again remembered that God’s law of Love is written on our hearts. I meekly said, “please take of yourself this Christmas”. I left the store not certain if I had comforted her, but I felt honored that she saw me as someone with whom she could share her pain.

Our ability to be Christians is only accomplished in the life and death of God’s only Son, Jesus Christ. When we turn to Christ and receive forgiveness from our sins, then God dwells within us, and we can be Christ to one another. It is then that we too become Emmanuel.

This Christmas be assured that God is with you. Sometimes all we need to do is look in the mirror.

Peace,

Denis

Therefore, the Lord himself will give you a sign; the young woman, pregnant and about to bear a son, shall name him Emmanuel. Isaiah 7:14

Relating to Worldly Concerns

It’s the second week of Advent and I’m feeling the pressure to be more holy (or holy at all, in my case). So, I’m lighting my Advent wreath and reflecting on how to celebrate our Savior’s birth. How do I put aside my anxiety regarding the political rancor in our country? How do I deal with the grief of losing my best friend, fear for a dear friend who is battling a painful recovery from surgery and concern for a toddler from our parish who is facing serious health issues? Do I just put on my “Happy Christmas Face” and suck it up? I fear l that my celebration of Christmas this year might feel ingenuine.

Most importantly, can I love God and love our modern (sometimes tacky) celebration of Christmas, too? Must they be mutually exclusive? Merriam-Webster defines the word secular as: Relating to worldly concerns; not overtly or specifically religious. That doesn’t sound so menacing to me. And yet I’m constantly hearing about the evils of the secular world in which we live. It seems that I am bombarded with warnings about being consumed by our secular society. On the first Sunday of Advent, we were admonished for placing gift-giving, holiday decorating, and Santa Claus before Christ. Somehow those things are equated with secularism and by association deemed contrary to what Christmas should really be about.

Often, I think that we get so caught up in protecting our traditions we forget that some of our most sacred Christian celebrations – Easter and Christmas were placed on the calendar to take advantage of earlier non-Christian feasts. People were already partying at the spring and winter equinoxes so why not just slip Christ’s resurrection and birth into those time slots? Did we in fact Christianize earlier pagan feasts? I don’t know – maybe. But who cares? Is Christ’s birth and life on Earth less significant if he wasn’t actually born on December 25th? Is His resurrection any less meaningful because of when we celebrate?

Living in the world today, spending too much money on silly Christmas presents and decorating a tree doesn’t define our belief in Christ any more than the likelihood that we celebrate His birth on what was once a pagan feast day. In addition, pretending that everything is perfect seems foolish because no one I know has a Hallmark® Christmas where everyone falls in love and the snow falls on cue. Most of us are dealing with some hurt or fear or uncertainty. But here’s the thing, we can lay that hurt and those fears at the foot of the Cross.

I know that “Jesus is the reason for the season” but as a Christian I believe that He’s also the reason there’s a world to live in. Sometimes it’s messy and confusing. I won’t pretend that everything is okay, but I have time for tears and laughter, too. Knowing that Jesus walked among us in this world, I will relate to it the best that I can.

It just so happens that some of his creation likes a little tinsel, eggnog and “Jingle Bells” blasting from their iPhones. I suspect that God is not offended but merely amused when I’m “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” or when we finally finish decorating our 4th Christmas Tree (that’s right, four!). And for the record, in our house, we all sing “O Come O Come Emmanuel” at the dinner table after lighting our Advent wreath, too. Somehow it works because love is at the center of it all.

The Lord is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.  2 Peter 3:9

Peace,

Denis

Peace Be With You (and also with me?)

In a Catholic mass we offer the “Sign of Peace” to one another. It’s typically a polite and friendly gesture of greeting which often includes shaking hands. The celebrant says to the congregation “Peace be with you” and then everyone responds, “and also with you.” We are then invited to offer peace to one another. Then we turn to our fellow congregants and say, “Peace” or “Peace be with you”. Not an insignificant gesture but it sometimes feels rote or worse, awkward if the person next to appears to be nonreceptive.

Often, I feel conflicted when offering peace. There is currently so much angst in my heart and head that peacefulness seems unattainable and offering it to others seems insincere. The moral, economic and political divisions in our country today are greater than any other time in my adult life. So many in our nation are victims of xenophobia, racism, sexism, antisemitism, and homophobia. The recent hurricanes and natural disasters only add to the suffering of millions. It’s hard to not fall into despair. Why is there so much that is so wrong? Why are so many people embracing hatred and vitriol? And why are some politicians ratchetting up the hate and fear? Where are the better angels of our nature that Abraham Lincoln spoke of so eloquently?

How can I, a flawed, sinful and desperate man, offer peace? This isn’t easy, but I believe that I must begin with me. To “reconcile” means to rebuild; reconnect; to be at peace. To embrace my suffering and try to understand the suffering of others, I’ll have to try to be more loving; more caring; more respectful; and less judgmental. I’ll have to shut my mouth and open my ears and more importantly my heart. And offer myself some peace before I can extend it to others.

In her book, “Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope, and Repair”, Anne Lamott writes: “My understanding of Incarnation is that we are not served by getting away from the grubbiness of suffering. Sometimes we feel that we are barely pulling ourselves forward through a tight tunnel on badly scraped-up elbows. But we do come out the other side, exhausted and changed. To heal, it seems we have to stand in the middle of the horror, at the foot of the cross, and wait out another’s suffering where that person can see us.

This is my challenge: To make the “The Sign of Peace” more than just some friendly, smiling, handshaking, muttering of peace-be-with-you. I will ask God with each encounter to lift me out of my despair; to embrace me with love and kindness toward others. And to bring peace, if only briefly, to each soul that I encounter.

Peace,

Denis

Put Me in Coach

Someone once told me that there are three types of people:

  • People who make things happen.
  • People who watch things happen.
  • And people who say, “What happened?”

Too often I have found myself in that third group. Not even aware of what is going on around me. Perhaps my ‘head in the sand’ attitude is a coping mechanism or maybe I’m just obtuse. Either way, it’s not a great way to live. I try to be aware of what’s going on in my community, my country, my world, but I feel sometimes that I am bombarded with information. And sorting truth from fiction is challenging to say the least. Which news source is reliable? Which social media outlet is trustworthy? Which friends and neighbors are well-informed and honest? At times it seems everyone has an agenda, so I shut down and shut it all out and find myself asking, “What happened?”

Then I spend time with my role models, and I realize I can make things happen. Maybe not grand things or important things, but I can be a positive change in my world. A ripple. A moment. A witness.

My grandson plays baseball. He’s one of the smaller kids on his team. He’s not a power hitter. But he plays with so much heart. He gets out there every game and gives it his all. I was always too timid to play sports as a kid. Fear of injury. Fear of failure. Fear of ridicule. But Noah swings that bat with such determination. He fields, he steals bases, he contributes to his team in a positive way. He’s blessed to have a great coach and equally blessed to have parents who remind him to listen to his coach. He gets better with every trip to the plate. And I am reminded that if Noah makes things happen, I can to!

My granddaughter recently made her First Communion. She worked hard this past year to learn about the sacrament and to prepare herself. She had some apprehension on the day she received. I’m not certain if she was afraid of the pomp and circumstance of the day or if she was not sure about the change she might feel after receiving Jesus for the first time. Was she concerned about a misstep or a forgotten word or gesture? Or was it just that her new shoes were a little slippery and wearing a veil and a fancy dress felt a bit overwhelming? Regardless she made it down the aisle and appeared angelic and lit up the church with her smile. It was accomplished. She was received. And for a moment we all shared in that glimpse of heaven before us. I know if Gwen could overcome her fear, I can to!

When I look at these two, I am reminded of the blessings I have received in this life. I’m not gifted. I’m not wealthy. I’m not terribly bright. But I have the ability to make things happen. In my small way, I can be a force for good. I can do the right thing. I can work for justice by voting for persons of integrity. I can volunteer to help those in greater need than my own. I can listen. I can pray. I can act.

And I’m going to keep swinging that bat and walking down that aisle until I get it right.

Who knows? Maybe someday I can make a ripple; have a moment; be a witness.

Peace,

Denis

I Don’t Want To…

I have a plaque in my office that reads, “LOVE GOD. LOVE OTHERS.” Sometimes it brings me great comfort. It reminds me of the friend who gave it to me, which brings a smile to my heart. It helps me remember to be kind. To love.

But honestly, sometimes it annoys me with its sanguine message. Often it challenges me. I don’t want to love others. Most days, I want to be angry, cynical and self-righteous. Love others? Even that obnoxious checker at The Neighborhood Walmart? The kid next door with the diesel truck rumbling at 5:30 AM? The lady at Mass on Sunday who informed me that she didn’t want any children sitting next to her, as I was trying to usher a family to their pew? My political adversaries? The guy at The Home Depot who couldn’t manage to control his dog from getting too friendly with my backside? Bad drivers? I don’t want to love any of those “others”!

As often happens, I stop and realize how foolish I am. As I reflect on my pride and stubbornness and a God who forgives me, I know that I can and must love others, even those annoying so-and-sos. Because many of them have loved me. And God always loves me even when I fail to love in return.

For years we have laughed about the time our grandson Noah, who was three or four years old, didn’t want to wear a collared shirt because in his tearful words, “I don’t want to be fancy!”. He didn’t want to get dressed up for whatever the occasion. He wanted to stay in his play clothes. He didn’t want to be stifled. He wanted to stay in his comfort zone. Getting “fancy” was going to challenge his very existence. You can’t run or throw a ball or tumble on the ground in a collared shirt. Despite his protests, he indeed wore that shirt and somehow, he survived it all. In truth, I would have caved in and let him wear what he wanted but his parents taught him a lesson that day. One that I am struggling to learn.

So today, I will try again to love others. It’s easy to love my family and friends. It’s easy to love those who share my values and my beliefs. It’s easy to love people in need who I see on the news or on social media. They’re distant and untouchable. It’s easy to love people through donations to charitable organizations. I’m shielded from their pain and suffering.

The tough ones to love are the family across the street who don’t keep their yard tidy; the lady who runs the red light; the Congressman who refuses to answer my emails; the person who pushed in front of me at the checkout counter; the family member who I no longer speak to because of political differences; the woman who loudly used profanity in a very crowded public place. And the man that I sometimes see in the mirror.

“I don’t want to…” But I’m trying. Loving others might make me uncomfortable at times. It certainly will push me out of my comfort zone. Loving those with whom I disagree doesn’t mean I have to abandon my beliefs. It might just free me to love more deeply, even if I shed a few tears in the process.

Thanks for the lesson, Noah.

Peace,

Denis

Be Afraid?

Politicians seem to be great fear mongers. So is Big Pharma, the NRA, those folks who are selling home security and identity theft protection, lots of media personalities and some clergy members. Fear can be a powerful tool; just look at any political ad. Listen to any talk radio or cable news host, watch any television commercial 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 also fueled hate and prejudice. Fear has gotten us into wars. Fear begets fear. Be afraid – be very afraid!

We should be afraid of some things. We should fear demagogues and dictators and hold on with all our might to our democracy, but not be afraid to have meaningful discourse with those whom we disagree. We should fear for the safety of our children and protect them but not to the point where we refuse to let them experience life to its fullest. We should be afraid of communicable diseases and take necessary precautions to limit them, but not live in isolation. We should fear for our planet and promote ecology but still continue to fish our waters and hunt our wildlife in a sustainable manner.

I refuse to be ruled by fear, 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 or your rules because of some fear of hell.

Instead, I will hold my head 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 goodwill; agents for positive change; lovers of justice and protectors of our planet.

Sometimes we have to stand up for what is right and sing our song. If we join our voices in harmony, the fear will be abated. When we face our fears together, we can find the courage to shout down the hate and inequality around us. Some will take the lead; some will follow; and still others will stand silent.

But together we should never let fear motivate us. Only love should.

Peace,

Denis

Peace

Peace. Such a simple word with so many definitions: a state without war; freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions; a state of freedom from storm or disturbance; peaceful coexistence. But what does peace mean to me? As I often do, I look to others for wisdom beyond my ken.

Mahatma Gandhi said, “The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace.” Elie Wiesel wrote, “Mankind must remember that peace is not God’s gift to his creatures; peace is our gift to each other.” In the words of Saint Teresa of Calcutta, “Peace begins with a smile.”

Albert Einstein is quoted as saying “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as if nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Peace is my miracle. I see peace when I watch the birds and squirrels in my backyard scurrying for seeds and nuts to keep warm in this bitter cold. I feel peace when I hold my grandchildren in my arms knowing that they are God’s promise to make this world a better place. I know peace when the love of others lifts me out of the darkness of despair.

The challenge for me is to be a peace-giver. Each week when I attend mass, we share a ‘sign of peace’. Simply stated: we shake hands or hug those around us and say, “peace be with you”. Sometimes I do it rather mechanically. Sometimes I fail to even look the recipient of my ‘peace’ in the eyes. And seldom do I take the time to really think about the peace I am offering.

Again, seeking wisdom, I turn to my spouse. She often reminds me that we have no idea what pain others are carrying in their hearts. What peace do you need, my friend? What freedom are you seeking? What are your fears? What emotions or thoughts are troubling you? I can offer this small gift. I can give peace, my peace. I can begin with a smile. I can hug a little tighter and hold a hand just a moment longer and let someone know that I truly care.

Here’s the other part: accepting peace. Am I changed when others offer their peace to me? Do I accept their peace generously and without question? Once again: I can begin with a smile. I can hug a little tighter and hold a hand just a moment longer and let someone know that I am truly blessed by their love.

My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. John 14:27

Peace,

Denis

P.S. My friend Joyce shared this beautiful song with me, offering me her peace.