I am "They"! I am "Somebody"!

In the wake of the tragic events of that Friday in December I have come to the point where enough is enough. I do not care what others think of my stance because ultimately, tragically, horribly, enough has become enough. I ask you, whoever you are to send the following statement to your local and national representatives. If your choice is to do nothing please stop complaining, for doing nothing takes away your voice. If you choose not to write then call.

Dear……

It is time to stop the violence, for if not now when? I count myself as one of those who stand accused of having done nothing in the face of tragedy when I wondered; “When are They going to do something about the proliferation of guns and the violence they beget?”, or “When is Somebody going to stop this violence?”.

I have finally decided that I am They and Somebody, so I am obliged to stand up and speak up to demand of you that you propose to congress, the senate and the President an immediate ban on the sale and possession of assault weapons, armor piercing bullets and clips that hold more than nine rounds. They, Somebody and I will hold you accountable by my vote if you do not stand with us.

Signed:

Heartbreak in Newtown

Heartbreak in Newtown

Where do we put this? How can we make any sense out of a catastrophe such as this or begin to mend our broken hearts?

I suppose police officials will investigate and psychologists will tell of the broken mind that committed this horrifying act. And yet broken hearts remain broken. The hardest part is that I can imagine the pain of the parents and grandparents…the uncles and aunts…the brothers and sisters…of the victims. That’s why I cry…I shed tears because I can imagine the pain that breaks hearts and spirits.

So what do we do, for there is no real answer that heals the pain?

How do I find joy again for I know my heart will remain broken?

With my broken heart and joyless spirit I turn to where I always turn. I take my joyless heart to God who wipes away our tears and pain. For He did not say we should not mourn…He said: “Do not mourn because you have no hope. “(1 Thessalonians 4:13-14) . We have hope in Jesus and so we mourn because we hurt. Even Christ wept at the loss of a friend. (John 11 vs 35)

We call on God to heal us all, but please Lord teach us, help us to stop the madness, the craziness, the evil acts...and to rely on you when we are afraid and confused.

Let us pray together that somehow the children that were killed, the parents and grandparents that will bury them, the brothers and sisters that will never forget them...will be given the grace they need to find peace. And may God open wide His arms to all of us who are victims of this horrifying act.

And may we be bold enough to demand peace from one another.

Deacon Art

Our Healing is buried in the Pain

                                             Read the book of JAMES:

Many of us have experienced tragic events in which the only response possible is tears followed by the anguished question "Why?" The slaughter of the Jews, the annihilation of Hiroshima, the massacres in Africa, the genocides in Eastern Europe, the plundering of Third World economies by first world economies which plunge subjugated people into starvation and poverty, -- why do such horrible things happen? God stands accused! If I were God, we think, I would never allow such suffering! On the face of things, we relegate ourselves to two alternatives in order to explain suffering -- either the universe is governed by a cruel, vengeful God who delights in torturing the innocent; or there is no God and we drift through time in total absurdity.

But there is another possible explanation. Our image of God, generated from our own limited human experience often prevents us from understanding things as they truly are. To make us human and distinct from other levels of creation, our creator gave us the ability to make choices. If we are to exercise this inherent ability of free choice, it follows that we unfortunately are able to abuse it. If God were to intervene in our decisions, wrong actions would not be impossible, thus our ability to make choices would be meaningless, and we would be no more than robots. The price of our freedom is pain, suffering and mistakes. This is the price that must be paid for the freedom of choice we have been given.

Our choices are highlighted in Matthew 25

It is we who first turn our world awry, and then we reap the harvest -- either ourselves or our children or our children's children. Throughout the ages, human beings have destroyed their harmony and at-one-ness with the world and introduced discordance everywhere. We humans, not God, have produced the instruments of torture and destruction and have devised ever more effective means of enslaving or terrorizing other human beings. It is our greed or stupidity or blindness that has caused the inequalities and the injustices in our societies. And God, who foresaw all the inhumanities that we would perpetrate on others and on our world, stepped into our ranks through the Word made flesh to show us the way to love and become reconciled.

Proverbs 3vs 5:6

When we are confronted with suffering in our own personal lives, even our most profoundly held beliefs easily break down . Our natural human impulse is to fly from trouble, and when we realize there is no escape, we are tempted to despair. When the suffering is our own, it shrouds our whole being, undermining the little courage we have. We become deaf to all but the din of our own misery. Every human being must travel this road at some time and experience this temptation to despair.

Read the last chapter of the book of Habakkuk:

The Temptation To Despair Has Different Faces

Some people drift from despair to self-pity ...
"Why should this happen to me? ... Haven't I always tried to lead a good life?" Self-pity may be a normal reaction, but the time for it passes. If we allow it to take hold, it can destroy us as surely as a cancerous growth. Self-pity erodes our courage and our humanity. It is destructive not only of ourselves but of those who love us and who would support us. If we see ourselves as the victims of a vicious fate, we become embittered and the love that is in us will be soured into envy and hate.

Some people refuse to face reality... 
The refusal to face reality is almost as destructive as self-pity. If I shut my eyes hard enough and long enough, I can convince myself that this dreadful thing has not really happened. It will go away. I may even deaden my response with tranquillizers. In refusing to face reality, I abdicate my responsibility and say "no" to the possibility of growth.

Some people bargain with God and demand a miracle ...
Another response is to pray frantically that God will get us out of this mess. We even feel a barely suppressed sense of outrage that, since God has got us into it in the first place, God will get us out. So we expect a miracle and when the miracle fails to happen, we feel that God has failed to take care of us: "God, you let us down. Get us away from this nasty reality. Hide us." It doesn't occur to us that we are just using God as another form of denial.

How can we sneer at these responses? Who knows how we will respond when the hour strikes? Surely God is our refuge, and it is our right to ask for the agony to pass. Even Jesus did that! Did Jesus not pray that his cup might pass? -- Yes, he did, but in redeeming humility, he added, "Abba, if it be possible ... not my will but yours" (Lk 22:42). Our tragedy is not that we suffer, but that we waste suffering. Self-pity, turned inward, warps us and drives out love. In refusing to face our situation as it is, we run from the truth -- and from ourselves. If we are in flight from ourselves, we have nothing whatever to give to others except our own barrenness. We can only gain from suffering if we use the opportunity to grow in compassion and understanding, to become more sensitive to the needs of others. "Help carry one another's burdens; in that way you will fulfill the law of Christ" (Gal 6:2). Through suffering, God is offering us a share in the life that God chose for God's Word who became human.

It is easy for us to forget that the core of our faith is a human being, dying in mess and muddle and pain, crying out in despair, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mk 15:34). This represents our true human condition. Jesus was sharing with us the sense of having lost God. Yet his cry of despair did not diminish his love. If one can reach the point of crying, "My God, my God," without ceasing to love, one can find contentment in the midst of one's abandonment. Even though we may not be called to imitate Jesus' life in detail he does give us a way and the means to follow him in our own existential situation. At the center of all that God is offering us, the cross stands as a commentary --the place where the visible meets the invisible, the historical sign that Jesus fully shared our human situation.

Faith in Christ Jesus is not an immunizing drug against pain; it may not even seem to be comfort of any kind. But it is a key to unlock the meaning and the latent possibilities in what we must endure. Suffering can be ennobling and creative, but it may be nonsense if we do not see meaning or put meaning into it.

What do we mean by suffering? It is something, on a trivial or cosmic scale, which is highly unpleasant to us, which hurts, which upsets our plans, and which is against our will. That is the crux of the matter. As we confront each new situation of suffering, we engage in a struggle. We fear being overcome. We are no longer sure of ourselves. The bubble of our complacency is shattered. We become vulnerable and in our vulnerability we can find God. Although our happiness ultimately lies in God, we usually will not seek this unless we are compelled to face our radical insufficiency. C.S. Lewis wrote that pain is God's megaphone to arouse us from our deafness. It is only when we are afraid or bewildered, aware of our own helplessness that we turn to God. If we are to be re-made, re-born, turned around, we must recognize, accept and confront our broken pieces:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Even as the stone of the fruit must break so that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore trust the physician ... the cup the physician brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay, moistened by the Potter's own sacred tears. (Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)

That there is some therapeutic value in suffering is obvious. When our own need is great, to whom do we turn? To the person for whom life has always been easy, or to the one who has been buffeted by more than one storm? Somehow we acknowledge that the former lacks a dimension and cannot help us. However, remember that suffering does not automatically provide that deeper dimension. Like pleasure, suffering is morally neutral. What gives or does not give it value is the way it is received. It is not good in and of itself. The mere fact of suffering does not make one a martyr. Suffering can sour and embitter. It can make people less human. It can even turn them into monsters. However, where it is accepted and used, it can bestow a maturity and a beauty of spirit that no other experience can provide. We have all seen shallow men and women grow better through adversity -- it is their one big chance to do so.

Each one of us has places in our hearts which do not yet exist, and into them enters suffering in order that they may have existence. There is a wisdom that only sorrow can bring. It is the source of great poetry, music, art and the great discoveries of life. It is in sorrow that we can look into ourselves and find God.

"Preparized"

In the 1^st book of Samuel (1 Sm 1: 24-28) we are whisked back to the generation immediately preceding the birth and kingship of David. There is no temple for Israel.  But there is a sanctuary for Israel’s worship at a place called Shiloh in the hill country some miles north of Jerusalem. 

The sanctuary was the resting place for the Ark of the Covenant which was the visible proof of God’s presence with His people. Eli was the chief priest of the sanctuary. Living in the sanctuary was a boy named Samuel whose birth was in answer to a special prayer of his childless mother, Hannah.  In gratitude to God for giving her a son she dedicated him to the exclusive service of God. 

(He was later to emerge as a key figure in the rise of King David and thus in the entire history of salvation.) 

In Shiloh he was raised by the priest Eli himself and prepared himself to be a follower of the most high God. Samuel assisted daily at the altar, he read and became familiar with the sacred writings, and he got the best religious formation available. Yet when the word of God came to him personally, he became confused, because his heart had not yet been made tender by a personal experience with God. He wasn’t Preparized   

Each time God called Samuel he thought that it was Eli. (1 Sm 3: 1-18) It was not until Eli directed him on what to do that he finally succeeded in establishing a connection with God. His heart was made tender so that he could hear God’s voice.  He was Preparized 
A Prepared mind and soul with a heart tenderized by God’s holy word. Preparized

However we must ask this question; why didn’t God just come to Samuel and say: “Samuel! Samuel! It is I the Lord, your God. Now listen up?” Why did God speak to Samuel in a voice that could be confused  for Eli’s? 

It seems as if God speaks to us in ways that often can be heard in our neighbors and friends, brothers and sisters, children and parents, husbands and wives. God’s voice can come to us in everyone if we listen closely enough, If we are Preparized. That is why we need one another. We need one another so that we can begin to be prepared by listening to and hearing God's voice in those we love and those we have yet to love.

The theme of preparation and listening to God is evident in Christ's call of the disciples. Andrew and John had followed John the Baptist as a way of preparing for the One who was to come. For years they had prayed and fasted and waited for the joy of meeting the Messiah. Yet when they finally came face to face with the Messiah himself, they could not recognize him. (Jn 1:35-40)

Again it took the guidance of the familiar voice of John for them to recognize the Messiah. These followers of John the Baptist had a divine call to become disciples of Jesus. But they could not discover what divine providence had in store for them until they had a change in their heart made tender by Christ, the word of God made flesh. There will always people in our community like Eli and prophets like John to point out Christ to us and to help us discern what God is saying to us in our lives as individuals and as a people.

It is not easy to be tender of heart, sometimes the truth that we hear is too hard to accept. The other day a person very close to me brought a DVD to our house to watch. But it was a bootleg copy. I could not watch it. If I did I would have been as wrong as the people who taped it, copied it, sold it, and bought it. That is the truth, and no justification that everyone does it will make it right.

“What are you looking for”?  This question reflects Jesus’ first words that He spoke in John’s gospel.  Jesus originally spoke these words to His disciples, but He also speaks these very words to us. What are you looking for? Generally we tend to think that we should be asking, what does God want from us, what is he looking for? But no, he also wants to know what we want. The answer to that question is less for his benefit than for ours. Our answer tells us what our real priorities are, both toward God and the people around the world. What do we really want from life and from God? It is not such an easy question to answer - it is easy to be superficial or flippant - but it tells us where we really are. And it is a question we will have to answer at different stages in our life as circumstances change. 

Another question by the disciples but also an answer to Jesus' query: "Teacher, where are you staying?". In other words they are asking, "Jesus, where are you to be found? Where are we to go to find you, to be with you? Where in our lives do we encounter you?" If that were to be OUR answer to Jesus' question, "What do you want?", or as Samuel said: “Speak Lord your servant is listening.” we would be doing very well

Now Jesus answers their question: "Come and see." Knowing Jesus and where he stays is not primarily a matter of intellectual knowledge. It is not a matter of information. It is not a question of knowing all theology, dogmatic and moral, nor is it a question of being an expert in all the teaching and the rules of the Church: Pharisees of all times are good at that. Knowing Jesus is a matter of experience. One could know the new Catechism of the Catholic Church, all 700 pages of it, by heart and still not know Jesus. To know him in the Gospel sense is to seek, find and respond to his loving presence in the fabric of our daily lives.

It comes from taking a plunge, trying out the teaching of Jesus even when it seems to go against what most people think to love unconditionally, to forgive, to turn the other cheek, to carry one's cross after Jesus, to suffer abuse and persecution for being his follower...

Come and see, that is the way to follow, there is no other way. The two disciples accept the invitation. They do go and stay where Jesus stays and do so for the rest of that day. And what was the result of staying with Jesus? One of the two, Andrew, became not only a committed follower but an evangelizer - the two cannot be separated. He immediately went in great excitement and found his brother, Simon, and told him, "We have found the Messiah!" And thus Simon became Peter and also a follower, an apostle and the leader of the new community.

It is important to note that Peter, in spite of his future important role, was not called directly by Jesus but through his brother. And that happens again and again. Everyone, including the greatest saints, were called by another, often lesser, person and brought to Christ.

Each one of us is led to the love of Jesus by other people. To me, all of us are looking for the one basic truth that only God can give us—love—true love--unconditional love. 
We want a love that will last forever and will never let us down.  We’re looking for a love that will never cheat on us or deceive us or frustrate us.  We want a love that will fulfill the deepest longings of our heart and mind and soul. That is what we are looking for.  That is what we all yearn for.  That is what every one of us, whether they are aware of it or not, needs. Love, true love, God-like love. It is only God’s love that can tenderize us.

Considering Thoughts

I have yet to fully recover from what God has called me to. I remain struck by the enormity of the task and the weakness I feel in my spirit. And yet I continue this harrowing journey believing fully well that it is He who has written this pathway in my heart. Indeed, I am filled with overwhelming joy and awe that I dare to believe He believes in me. All the while, the why's and how's and of course the why me's, rattle around in this fragile faith that inhabits my timid soul. But because I have yet to fully recover from what God has called me to, I shout and rejoice at full throttle for what other response can be expected from a lowly soul such as mine.

Dare I ask you to join with me? Or have you recovered from His call?

Oh, by the way dear Lord, may I never recover.

Rags to Riches to Enriched

“The word of God is living and effective,…
penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow,
…able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart.
No creature is concealed from him.” Heb 4:12-13

This small part of the letter written to the Hebrews is deeply revealing and powerfully truthful. For it teaches us, it enlightens us to the nature of God. That nature is love, complete and profound love, a love so total that our God watches our every motion and knows our every notion. If we ponder this very small verse of the letter to the Hebrews and use that as our lens, it reveals why and how Christ viewed the rich young man and by inference you and I in Mark's Gospel chapter 10.

The obvious thing we see in Jesus’ response to the young man:

“Jesus, looking at him, and loved him and said to him,
You are lacking in one thing.”

Christ’s immediate reaction is love and the desire to help and guide this young faulty follower.  And yet what Jesus told him something was too difficult for the young man to do.

As I reflected on this scriptural passage I realized that often it is easy to put myself into the place of those I read about in the bible, It’s easy for me to believe that I would respond differently to Jesus. It is easy for me to believe that I would follow him if He stood before me, looked into my eyes and asked me to abandon all that I've worked for to follow Him. Yes it is easy to say that, it’s easy to believe that this would be my answer…

Yet there remains the truth…He is…. Jesus is asking me to follow Him, He asks me every day, He asks me every moment to abandon my riches and follow Him. But let’s be very clear about something. He asks all of us to do the same... But the question is What are our riches, what denotes for us that one thing that we unknowingly or knowingly cling to, that thing we cannot give up, cannot abandon, cannot abandon even for Jesus? Whatever that one thing might be, the only thing that can penetrate our selfish desires is faith. Without faith we cling to the world…But with faith we cling to Jesus.

What is that one thing, for you? What is it that you are unwilling to give up for Jesus? For some of us it is power… some, wealth; some, the unwillingness to forgive; some, peer pressure; some, self-righteousness.

For each of us there is a stumbling block or two that stands directly between ourselves and our ability to surrender ourselves completely to Him. There is a very symbolic tale that goes something like this:

Hunters of monkeys in the Amazon have a clever way of trapping monkeys. They slice a coconut in two, hollow it out, and in one half of the shell cut a hole just big enough for a monkey's hand to pass through. Then they place an orange in the other coconut half before fastening together the two halves of the coconut shell. Finally, they secure the coconut to a tree with a rope, and wait. Sooner or later, an unsuspecting monkey swings by, smells the orange, and discovers its location inside the coconut. The monkey then slips its hand through the small hole, grasps the orange, and

tries to pull it through the hole. Of course, the orange won't come out; it's too big for the hole. To no avail the persistent monkey continues to pull and pull, never realizing the danger it is in. While the monkey struggles with the orange, the hunters approach and capture the monkey by throwing a net over it. And as long as the monkey keeps its fist tightly wrapped around the orange, it is trapped. The only way the monkey could save its life is to let go of the orange and flee.

This system works because the monkey is unwilling to let go of what it has clutched in its fist, yet it cannot have both the orange and its freedom. Even when the monkey sees the hunters approaching, it does not let go of the orange and escape, but jumps around screaming making every effort to escape yet it never releases the orange.

The monkey is entrapped by its own unwillingness to abandon what it desires so deeply, the monkey looses its freedom, sometimes its life, for the sake of a possession. I can imagine the monkey saying its last prayers as it sees the hunters coming.

 “Save me, Lord save me; please save me. I believe you have given me this orange, help me to keep it and my freedom too.” 

A good example is the rich young man in Mark’s gospel Chapter 10 vs 17:30 whose prayer probably was: “Give me eternal life, O Lord; only do not ask me to give up my wealth.”

If you love animals and see the monkey struggling to get the orange while the hunters are closing in on it, what would you do? You would probably shout to the monkey to abandon the stupid orange and run for dear life.

 

This is exactly what Jesus does to the rich young man. He sees the man in danger of losing himself in his wealth, he sees him losing eternal life all because of what he desired.

So he calls on him to give up the thing, that one thing that separates him from God and save his life. But the man is unable to do that.

But why did Jesus ask him to do this?  Let’s look at that reading from the letter to Hebrews again: 

“The word of God is living and effective,…penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow,…able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart. No creature is concealed from him.”

By keeping this reading in mind we then listen to Mark’s Gospel tells us that:

“Jesus looked at him and loved him” 

He knew the heart of the young man. He knew there was something that separated him from God and wanted to shout “Let Go, Let Go! Just let go and enjoy eternal life.”

The teachings and directives of Jesus often seem difficult and perplexing but in the end it is to His will, His comfort that we are asked to surrender.

 The road we travel to follow God is rarely easy, yet it is always right, and I have no fast, quick, simple lose thirty pounds in thirty days answer, other than it is his way or the wrong way.

But what keeps me trying to follow Him is that, I know he loves me greater than I love myself… I know he knows me far better than I know myself. I know he knows what is best for me, and to this I can surrender, to this I can abandon my desires, to embrace his desires for me.

And so here we are, for what I have written is for you too. He loves you far greater than you can love yourself, He knows you far better than you know yourself. He knows what is best for you…it is for Him you are to abandon all that you have … to find all that he wants you to be…

Through My Brothers' Eyes (continued 2)

I looked at the kids and the lady in the blue dress with the disgusted look on her face and wondered, “How on earth can I fit in?” They all looked at me; I was in their territory. I was the outsider, the new kid, and everyone knew it. I guess we’ll see, ma’am.” I said, finally finding my voice and hoping it sounded more confident than I actually was.

Again she smiled. With her stare still fixed on me, she said to one of the kids watching the little drama, “Langston, come up here and help Mr. Miller find a seat.”

I heard  footsteps as someone  walked toward me. I was still looking at the lady in the blue dress, like some poor animal stuck in the lights of an on-rushing truck who knew its own doom was coming directly at it. I could not move. I was stuck in the twilight zone, unable to stop staring at her. I was transfixed until I felt someone tugging at my sleeve.

“C’mon. Hey, c’mon.” I was shaken back to the moment. No longer paralyzed, I turned and looked at the boy who had tugged on my shirt. Unlike the rest of the class, he was the same color as me. He was a Negro, and about my height, which was short. I mumbled something unintelligible and allowed him to guide me to the back of the classroom; I noticed there were several empty seats there, while all the rest of the desks in the room were occupied.

“Hi,” I mumbled to him as we maneuvered through the rows of desks to the back of the class. He didn’t respond but kept walking just in front of me. About two-thirds of the way to the empty desks he slowed down and stared at a rather large kid, a large white kid. He turned and glanced back at me, shot a look at the big white kid again, then looked back at me and quickly stepped past him, almost hopping. This little episode took only a split second, but I got it. Just as I was about to walk past the big white kid, the boy suddenly stuck his foot out. Had Langston not warned me, I would have tripped and fallen right there, right on my face in front of everyone. Fortunately for me that didn’t happen. I skipped over his foot just as he stuck it out. I didn’t bother to look at him; I just kept walking, following Langston.

When we reached the back of the room Langston nodded toward a desk just in front of him. I returned the nod and quickly sat down at the empty desk, noticing that no one sat next to me or him. Sitting  at my new desk I sighed and then realized everyone in the room was staring at me, all those faces seemingly floating in front of me watching, staring, including the face of the lady in the blue dress. They had all seen the dramatic little scene unfold and I wondered about their thoughts. I knew I was being sized up; I realized it instinctively. I thought to myself, I may be the new kid, but I am not a dummy. I hope they realized that.”

As they  turned around to face the front of the room, and the lady in the blue dress was again busy at her desk,  I heard a voice:

“That big kid, the one that tried to trip you, his name’s Jerry. He’s tough. Be careful. You’ll see him at recess rough-housing around. He’s a bully. That boy in front of him is his flunky. He’s Glenn. He ain’t much when Jerry ain’t around.” Langston whispered this in my ear. I sat in front of him, leaning back as he leaned forward so only I could hear him. Since no one was sitting next to either one of us I was comfortable listening to him. “There are a couple of nice kids, but they only talk to you if Jerry ain’t around.” I looked at the big white kid and could see that he was much bigger than me. A dirty sweat stain ran around the collar of his t-shirt, which fit snugly around his thick neck. The once white t-shirt clung to his back from sweat. The way he looked and acted was an immediate threat to me. I was frightened about how to handle this situation. I was small and wondered what I could do to avoid any trouble.

The room was warm from the sun streaming in windows that ran the width of one side of the classroom. I noticed the sleeves of his dirty t-shirt were stretched by the size of his arms. There was no question this was a big, big kid. I would have to be alert. I had no protectors in this school as I had had at my old one. No cousins, or brother, or friends, or sister to shield me from whatever I was going to have to face.This was going to be a difficult test. I’d have to have a long talk with my older brother Pete. He was in high school and had far more experience about this kind of thing I did.

I glanced around the room and was relieved that I was no longer the focus of attention. When the lady in the blue dress stood up the sound of her chair scraping against the floor startled me. As she straightened and started to speak, the classroom door suddenly opened and a boy walked in. He strode quickly, with quite a bit of confidence, and walked directly to where the lady stood. The entire time from the moment he entered the room he smiled a really big smile. He nodded at some of the kids, who evidently knew him. His easy manner seemed infectious. Even the lady in the blue dress smiled openly at him. It was certainly not the grimace she had given me.

“Good morning, Mrs. Connor. How are you this morning?” The boy  was jaunty even in the way he spoke to the lady in the blue dress, who now had a name.

“Good morning, Jimmy. I’m fine thank you. What brings you to my class this morning?”

Without hesitation he answered her, almost interrupting her question. “The office sent me to pick up a new kid and take him to Miss McDade’s class.  Here are the papers they told me to give you.” The boy looked around at the kids with his broad, open smile; he was clearly comfortable and confident. “They said his name is Arthur Miller. Is he in here somewhere?” He looked around the room and quickly spotted me. “Are you Arthur?” The teacher looked at him, then slowly followed his line of sight to me. The smile she had on her face when looking at the boy with the big smile melted to that now familiar and terrible grimace she had reserved just for me.

(to be continued)

 

The Geeks are the Cool Kids

Okay, now I’m a movie critic.

Well not really, what I am is a supporter of all things wonderful and uplifting and extraordinary and true. There is a story that isn’t told enough…It is all about how a young mind when treated with dignity and great expectations, can reach beyond social limitations. That is this story. It is real and wonderful, so please take a moment and watch the movie trailer… When you’re finished watching know that it’s alright to smile. I certainly did, you see, I was on the chess team in high school too.
Click on the link below and enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/embed/tFzUYRC3_H8

Victoria Smiled

I visited a school Last Wednesday, St. Rita’s Catholic School in Hamden Ct, I’ve been there before. The principal is someone I’d call a friend, a good friend. Her name is Sister Maureen. She reminds me of the nuns of my youth except she smiles and laughs. But like the Nuns of my youth her real strength and dedication has as its foundation a deep and wonderful faith. It’s obvious when you hear the students speak to her, always with respect but never in fear. I like that about her, how the kids see her, respectfully. And not with surprise that’s how she treats them, respectfully.

I had spoken with the students I was scheduled to meet with before, so I wasn’t certain how many would remember the talk we had about bullying. It was a year or so ago and for many kids yesterday’s lessons are not always remembered and applied today…Yesterday was yesterday and today is today…nonetheless I was hopeful.

Upon entering the school I was joyfully met by the School secretary who remembered my name…that was a surprise but encouraging. Because I was early I had time to visit a teacher, Ms. Robinson who I had worked with for many years at another Catholic School in Hartford.  It was wonderful seeing her again. We spoke of the kids we both knew and the difficulties she faced when making the decision to leave the school and the children she loved. But the decision was made and she left Hartford.  St. Rita’s school is lucky to have her; she is a brilliant teacher and a strong advocate for kids. 

She asked me to say hello to her students in her new school.  Surprisingly they remembered me and some of the lessons I spoke of a year ago. Just as surprisingly I remembered many of their faces. They were a little older but still children, their excitement to see me was infectious. After a few quick “hellos” and “I remember what you said Deacon Miller”. I left Ms. Robinson’s class and walked down the familiar hall to see Sister Maureen and her 8^th grade students.

As I drew near to the room I could hear her gentle voice. Her words were muffled by the closed door so I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but the sound of it was familiar. When I opened the door all the faces in the room turned towards me. 

“Deacon Miller, Deacon Miller, Deacon Miller!” A chorus of young voices echoed in my heart. Dear God I so love what I do.

I spoke with them for nearly two hours. We spoke of the problem of bullying, exclusion, cruelty and meanness. We spoke of anger and racism. We spoke of stereotyping. They were well prepared, for they had just seen the documentary, “A Class Divided.” Their discussion of that film was brilliant.

The film was recorded in 1968 by a forward thinking teacher who divided her 3^rd grade
class into two groups… kids with brown eyes and kids with blue eyes and the
consequences that occur when you pit one group over another. It is an intriguing look into the human condition of power and separation. If you haven’t seen the film I highly recommend it.

Sister Maureen gave her students the remarkable opportunity to see and evaluate human behavior. I pray they are moved by this film and the lessons Sister Maureen teaches them.

When I left the class I was escorted by two students Mike, an outgoing, loquacious tyke, a certain future attorney, and Victoria a child of great intellect with a delightful smile to match…

I must return.

Paralyzed No More

I am reminded of the Gospel according to Mark second Chapter:

“They came bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd,they opened up the roof above him…they let down the mat on’...When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Child, your sins are forgiven."Now some of the scribes were sitting there asking themselves,…Who but God alone can forgive sins?" Jesus … said, "Why are you thinking such things in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic,'Your sins are forgiven,'
or to say, 'Rise, pick up your mat and walk?' But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth"—he said to the paralytic,
"I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home." He rose, picked up his mat at once and went away in the sight of everyone.                            

The paralytic man was healed by Jesus, he was healed from the inside out. It is vital for us to accept that the healing this man received that was the most important was his spiritual healing. That was the best healing, the perfect healing, the everlasting healing.

That is the same healing that is available to you and I. A healing so powerful that we are no longer paralyzed. No longer paralyzed by fear, by pain. by anger and resentment nor selfishness, not  paralyzed by something someone might have said or done to you…today or yesterday or 50 years ago… not paralyzed because you have yet to forgive someone. The same spiritual healing experienced by that paralytic man is available to you and I…right now. Christ offers this to us through the sacrament of reconciliation. Yes confession…We can be reconciled not only with God but with our community… Now I know that some folk haven’t been to confession for a long time… some a long, long , long time. But that’s alright… You see God has been in the forgiving business a long, long, long, time.

I’ve heard it said about this sacrament that those Catholics just made up that confession stuff…When I do here that I tell them to turn to James 5:15 …Where it says:

Is anyone among you sick? He should summon the presbyters of the church, and they should pray over him and anoint (him) with oil in the name of the Lord, and the prayer of faith will save the sick person, and the Lord will raise him up. If he has committed any sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The fervent prayer of a righteous person is very powerful.

Now when it says confess your sins to one another in order to be healed, look around and think who do I want to tell my sins to? I don’t know who you would choose to hear them… but frankly I choose a priest. Because I know that he can’t tell anyone. I know that he has dedicated his life to the work of God… I know he has been ordained by a bishop…and I know that that bishop received his ordination through a long line of bishops stretching all the way back to Jesus...And so I believe it when he says….  

"God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his

Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

 

I know after confession that I can pick up my mat and walk… I know that I am no longer Paralyzed by my sins… I can take a step towards goodness… I can march again on my journey…my knees are flexible, my step is light, my joy is abundant, for I am freed not frozen…healed not broken…and saved not lost.

With My faith restored the Lord can ask, me to lift up one of his paralyzed children and with the faith he has given and restored in me gives me the strength to allow His will to flow through me…so I can open up any closed roof…to lift any burden…to truly love my neighbor…to spread the good news of Jesus Christ… for it is easy to be a Christian within the walls of my church…it is easy to sit with those who believe what I believe …It is easy to offer the sign of Christ’s peace to those in our churches week after week after week to those we know will receive it… It is easy to believe that the problems so many of our brothers and sisters face in the world are their problems, not mine…Yet we are called to take his message of love and concern out of our churches and into the world …we are called to bear witness there…we are called to take His peace there, we are called to take what we hear and learn and believe in our churches and be the spirit and love of Christ out there in the world where it is both needed and difficult to do…

We are called to declare the good news, we are called to share the good news, we are called to live the Good news of Jesus…To everyone.

Through My Brothers's Eyes (continued 1)

 

The lady in the blue dress was startled when I walked in.  She jerked her head up and scowled at me. I closed the door and heard it bang shut, and felt the door’s interior latch click loudly. I stood silently for a brief second as everyone in the classroom gawked at me. I kept my attention focused on the lady in the blue dress, trying not to be distracted by all the staring white faces. Then I slowly trudged the long distance from the door to where she sat, the deafening sound of my own steps echoing back at me. I clung desperately to the large brown envelope which identified who I was. When I finally made it to her desk I handed her the documents. That was when I noticed the dark palm prints on it made by the sweat from my hands. The lady in the blue dress hesitated a moment before reaching out to take the envelope from me.

She didn’t say anything and the look in her eyes didn’t reveal her inner feelings. She opened the envelope and read for a moment. I stood silently, not knowing what to do with my hands or my eyes. Finally she raised her head from the papers she had extracted from the envelope and said, “You must be Mr. Arthur Miller.” I stood frozen, a thousand eyes staring at me--no, staring through me. I tried desperately not to notice the rows of kids sitting right in front of me, but their presence hung heavily around me. The lady in the blue dress sat stiffly in her chair, behind an old wooden desk that had piles of papers and books stacked in one corner. A green ink blotter lay haphazardly in the middle of the desk. It had odd doodles and pencil scratches from earlier usage. She tried a tight smile but it came from her lips, not from her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m Arthur Miller.” I tried to smile back at her, but from her reaction I knew I must have grimaced.

“Are you okay?” Her alarm was evident as she quickly backed away from me, her smile immediately draining from her face. “You look like you might be sick. You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?” Disgusted. That was how she looked. Disgusted, disgusted with me.

“No, ma’am. I’m fine,” I quickly answered, embarrassed as much by how loud she was as by what she said. The kids in the classroom started giggling, and I knew they were giggling at me. There must have been 25 or 30 of them seated in five rows of desks in the room. I decided not to look at any of them; looking past the lady in the blue dress seemed a safer place to stare. Just as the giggling began to end, a loud retching sound exploded from the back of the room, splintering the air like the menacing bark of an angry dog. It caused the giggling to start again, but this time in earnest. The laughter came in waves and crept inside me, mocking me. I stood alone in the crowded room not knowing what to do or where to go. The lady in the blue dress had turned from me and was looking down at the folder that had my name on it, not acknowledging the giggling and noise that was so obvious to me. She did not offer me a place to hide, so I tried to disappear like the invisible man. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that when I opened them I’d be someplace else, some place where everything was safe and familiar. I wanted to be any place, any place but here. I waited and wished it to be so. But when I slowly opened my eyes again I was still there, in that strange classroom that smelled like old cheese, with that lady in the drab blue dress sitting in front of me, in a room crowded with strangeness, and I knew I was still there because I saw my feet through my squinted eyes and heard the giant tick tock of the school clock on the wall. I was standing by myself very much alone. I waited silently, praying to be invisible.

After what seemed like an eternity, the giggling ended. It was only then that she spoke again. “Seems you have very high test scores...math… reading…Not bad, not bad. But--” she hesitated, and glanced towards me but without seeing me. She had a look in her eyes that I couldn’t read. “I wonder how you’ll do here.” She had cigarette-stained teeth that were revealed by her counterfeit smile. The lady in the blue dress kept smiling. I wasn’t certain if it was a threat, a challenge, unbelief, or what. But with no other choice I stood up straight, something I had forgotten to do until that moment. Mom and Dad’s admonition to always stand straight ricocheted around my brain, their words demanding a strength I never knew I needed. I looked at the kids and the lady in the blue dress with the disgusted look on her face and cigarette-stained teeth and wondered, “How on earth can I fit in?” They all looked at me. I was in their territory. I was the outsider, the new kid, and everyone knew it.

"To be continued..."

true love

Abu Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace
And saw, within the moonlight of his room
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom                                                                    
An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold
And to the presence in his room he said                                                                
'What writest thou?' The vision raised its head
And with a look made of all sweet accord                                                          
Answered: 'The names of those who love the Lord
'And is mine one?' said Abu. 'Nay not so'
Replied the Angel: Abu spoke more low
But cheerily still and said 'I pray thee then
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men'
The angel wrote and vanished. The next night 
It came again with a great awakening light
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed.                                              
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest."

This well known verse written by 19^th century poet James Henry Leigh Hunt, makes the point that true love of God and true love of our fellow human being are like two sides of the same coin. One cannot exist without the other.

May God Bless us all.