I learned a very good lesson this week, that is by no means a shocking revelation to anyone. You really and truly can't judge a book by it's cover. While it's true that a book with a more appealing cover is going to draw more attention on the shelf, that says nothing of the quality of the book. By the same token a book that may sit and collect dust due to a bland cover that attracts no attention, may hold the most brilliant literary art of our time.
You see I learned that sometimes I don't give people the credit they are due. As you all know I have recently decided to accept the invitation of the National Old Catholic Church to become a priest, which I thought was going to horrify my Roman Catholic friends. Some of them are less then pleased, thinking that I have turned my back on the truth in favor of an "easy out" with a Church that accepts my Homosexuality, and still welcomes me in their life of ministry. Some who I was most concerned about however instead responded with not only support but congratulations for my decision. Another person in my life, who I had formerly decided on a certain opinion has recently proven me very wrong, by turning out to be not only a very well adjusted individual, but in fact someone that people should look up to for his loyalty, maturity, and compassion.
I am ashamed of myself for pre-judging people for a few reasons. Between my life in ministry and my work behind the bar, I have been proven wrong time and time again about judgments I have made about other people. The gay community is a small one, especially in this town, and many times there have been people who everyone refers to as "a mess" and then after getting to know them a bit I realize they are not in fact a mess at all...and anyone who has run into me at last call could easily say the same of me.
You see sometimes we forget that people are made up of a lot more then the situation we see them in. They have lives that have their own unique stresses. They have backgrounds that have shaped their attitudes and personalities. Most importantly they have a certain edge, or personality that they display in public, that is not not necessarily who they really are. They have lives that necessitate maintaining a certain public opinion that may not reflect how they really feel, or who they really are.
The bottom line is that we cannot make a decision about a person before we give them a chance. We can't assume that a person is going to feel a certain way about something, before we give them them a chance and tell them about it. I know for a fact that Im not alone in this weakness, we all do it. The question that comes to my mind is why?
I think that it's because in our lives we all experience so much betrayal and hurt that we naturally build walls around ourselves to keep us safe. We learn from being hurt, and make sure that it never happens again. That part is natural, the problem is it stretches into the rest of our lives, and being defensive turns into being pessimistic. We begin to assume that people are going to hurt us, or be against us. We never get past face value. Just as we build our walls, and have our defenses so does everybody else, and sometimes we forget that. Just think, if everybody only operated inside our little bubbles, what kind of shallow, phony universe would we live in?
There's no easy answer, and we are all going to always be careful to not allow ourselves to be hurt, or challenged. However, maybe we all need to let the guard down a little bit. If we open ourselves up a little bit more to the rest of the world, we will be shocked at the good that will come from it, the friendships that will deepen, and the support we will receive from places we didn't expect because we didn't give them enough credit.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Beer and Brothers
Last night was a Saturday night, which in my world is typically filled with the hustle and bustle of work. My brother and his girlfriend were in from New Hampshire, and I decided to take the night off so I could spend time with them. The evening was a major turning point for me.
As my faithful readers know I come from a unique family situation. The family was already raised, at the time of my birth the brother closest to me in age was already 12. My being so far in age was always an issue for me. My siblings and I didn't grow up together, and I always felt like "the kid" in their presence. Last night however, for the first time, it was different.
Michael, his girlfriend, and I sat and had dinner, like adults. We sat and laughed, and I talked about what was going on in my life. Now that I think about it, I was kind of selfish as I didn't really ask about what was new with him. We went bar hopping afterwards, and with each beer I felt more and more glad that I had taken the night off. We ended up at my work, where I was able to introduce him to almost all of my friends, it was a wonderful evening.
What does it take to make you feel like an adult, in the presence of those who could easily consider you a child? What makes us an adult in general? It certainly is about more then turning 18, or even 21. Among my priest friends I was the seminarian studying to one day achieve the goal that they were living. When I left, I felt like the lowly bartender trying to get his life together, while they looked on and offered advice, help whenever they could, and a shoulder to cry on when I failed. Yet I could never look at them and feel like an equal, like a peer. With my family it was the same. I always felt that when I talked I was justifying whatever was going on in my life, offering explanations to people who were higher on life's ladder then I was, and they always would be. Last night was so different.
Maybe it's a mix of things. Part of it was it was nice to hear people saying to him what I always heard about him growing up. Whenever people learned that he, or Steve is my brother they would say, "your brother's a great guy." We grew up in a small town, where everybody knew my dad, and my brothers were talented musicians whose abilities were well known. As I got older I would hear them laugh about "the old days" and share various memories that I wasn't around for. Last night they were able to see me as a grown adult. They met my friends, and boss, and customers, who were all very gracious and said things to HIM like, "your brother's a great guy". "We love it when he's working." I also sat and told him about exciting things in my life that are happening. Not what could happen, or what I want to happen, or what I hope will happen.
The words of Adam, upon the creation of Eve ring very true to me today. "This is bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh." This is my brother. We are both adults, and we are both Martins. We talked last night about my other brother who couldn't join us, and my father. We talked about the many similarities we all have. Upon further reflection I realized we certainly are "bone of the same bone". We all have a similar laugh, we certainly have the same hair line issues, but more then that we have the same character. We are all strong willed, sometimes to the point of being stubborn. We are all men of deep faith, in different ways. We strongly believe in what is right and wrong. We believe in service, them to our country, me to the Church, and our father to both.
There have been so many bumps along the way, as I'm sure we could all say the same, in our family. There are many wounds. Some that have healed, and some that never will, but those that have I am glad for. No family is perfect. Many have heard me say that your family doesn't necessarily have anything to do with bloodlines, or legal terms. However there is something to be said for brothers. There is something to be said for two men who lived such different lives, yet somehow turned out very much alike. Michael is the family member who through the years I have spent the least time with, and yet he is the one to whom I feel the closest.
Last night was a delightful evening, and the hangover today is every bit worth it. When are we adults? When we can evaluate our lives and admit where we made mistakes, and acknowledge the truth of the events that have unfolded. The second Reading today talks about how Jesus, although He is God, is our brother, as we all have God as our father. The last line of the reading says, "He who consecrates and those who are being consecrated all have one origin. Therefore, he is not ashamed to call them “brothers.” We all have our birth family, and it is structured around titles that are relative to our origin. We are bone of the same bone, and flesh of the same flesh. In all of our lives those roles play out differently, and that's ok, because after years have gone by, you can sit as two adults, have a few beers and a few shots, and relish each others happiness.
As my faithful readers know I come from a unique family situation. The family was already raised, at the time of my birth the brother closest to me in age was already 12. My being so far in age was always an issue for me. My siblings and I didn't grow up together, and I always felt like "the kid" in their presence. Last night however, for the first time, it was different.
Michael, his girlfriend, and I sat and had dinner, like adults. We sat and laughed, and I talked about what was going on in my life. Now that I think about it, I was kind of selfish as I didn't really ask about what was new with him. We went bar hopping afterwards, and with each beer I felt more and more glad that I had taken the night off. We ended up at my work, where I was able to introduce him to almost all of my friends, it was a wonderful evening.
What does it take to make you feel like an adult, in the presence of those who could easily consider you a child? What makes us an adult in general? It certainly is about more then turning 18, or even 21. Among my priest friends I was the seminarian studying to one day achieve the goal that they were living. When I left, I felt like the lowly bartender trying to get his life together, while they looked on and offered advice, help whenever they could, and a shoulder to cry on when I failed. Yet I could never look at them and feel like an equal, like a peer. With my family it was the same. I always felt that when I talked I was justifying whatever was going on in my life, offering explanations to people who were higher on life's ladder then I was, and they always would be. Last night was so different.
Maybe it's a mix of things. Part of it was it was nice to hear people saying to him what I always heard about him growing up. Whenever people learned that he, or Steve is my brother they would say, "your brother's a great guy." We grew up in a small town, where everybody knew my dad, and my brothers were talented musicians whose abilities were well known. As I got older I would hear them laugh about "the old days" and share various memories that I wasn't around for. Last night they were able to see me as a grown adult. They met my friends, and boss, and customers, who were all very gracious and said things to HIM like, "your brother's a great guy". "We love it when he's working." I also sat and told him about exciting things in my life that are happening. Not what could happen, or what I want to happen, or what I hope will happen.
The words of Adam, upon the creation of Eve ring very true to me today. "This is bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh." This is my brother. We are both adults, and we are both Martins. We talked last night about my other brother who couldn't join us, and my father. We talked about the many similarities we all have. Upon further reflection I realized we certainly are "bone of the same bone". We all have a similar laugh, we certainly have the same hair line issues, but more then that we have the same character. We are all strong willed, sometimes to the point of being stubborn. We are all men of deep faith, in different ways. We strongly believe in what is right and wrong. We believe in service, them to our country, me to the Church, and our father to both.
There have been so many bumps along the way, as I'm sure we could all say the same, in our family. There are many wounds. Some that have healed, and some that never will, but those that have I am glad for. No family is perfect. Many have heard me say that your family doesn't necessarily have anything to do with bloodlines, or legal terms. However there is something to be said for brothers. There is something to be said for two men who lived such different lives, yet somehow turned out very much alike. Michael is the family member who through the years I have spent the least time with, and yet he is the one to whom I feel the closest.
Last night was a delightful evening, and the hangover today is every bit worth it. When are we adults? When we can evaluate our lives and admit where we made mistakes, and acknowledge the truth of the events that have unfolded. The second Reading today talks about how Jesus, although He is God, is our brother, as we all have God as our father. The last line of the reading says, "He who consecrates and those who are being consecrated all have one origin. Therefore, he is not ashamed to call them “brothers.” We all have our birth family, and it is structured around titles that are relative to our origin. We are bone of the same bone, and flesh of the same flesh. In all of our lives those roles play out differently, and that's ok, because after years have gone by, you can sit as two adults, have a few beers and a few shots, and relish each others happiness.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Saint Therese
When I was a child growing up, my parents devoutly took me to Church every weekend. Our Church was very small and humble, and didn't have very many statues inside. However the one that always stood in a place of honor at the back of the Church was our Parish patron, Therese of Lisieux.
She was a simple french girl, born into a family that had no shortage of drama, and trials and tribulations. She became a nun the very second the Bishop would allow, as she petitioned to enter at the age of only 15. She lived only til the age of 24, having died of Tuberculosis. Though her suffering was great, she never uttered a word of complaint. Today, among other things she is the patron of the Missions, and people who are living with AIDS.
The determination demonstrated by this young girl is undoubtedly an inspiration to all. Gaining entry into Religious Life is no easy task, but Therese at such a young age was determined to start her life of ministry as soon as possible. Her personal writings document her struggles living in community, her frustration with fellow nuns, and her pain and suffering from her illness. In 1997 the writings of this silent suffering servant resulted in the Church bestowing on her the title of 'Doctor of the Church', a title that has only been given to 33 people.
Lord knows there are many lessons I could take from her life and ministry. My sufferings are far from silent, and mny frustrations with others are rarely kept quiet either. Her determination however, is the quality I most hope to perfect. The best things in life require patience, determination, and sacrifice, but are worth every step. When I would complain while I was in Seminary, Priest friends would encourage me by saying once I reached my goal of Ordination to the Priesthood I would see that it was worth every suffering.
I guess at certain junctures in life we make a choice, we decide if the ends justifies the means. We decide if at this time in our lives, is the goal worth all the hard work. The danger is that we end up complacent. Too often we settle for less then we should, because it's easier that way. That's how so many people on the road to a "career" end up "stuck in a job" instead, because it's easier to tred water then to swim upstream. That's how so many people end up in relationships that are unhealthy, because it's easier to stay then to leave. That's how so often we may fail to speak up against things we disagree with, because it's easier to remain silent then to cause some waves.
How many movements in our nation and world would've died in their first moments if people had bought into that complacency. The gay rights movement, the end of segregation, the liberation of women, indeed our nation's very independence, were all movements that began with a small ripple and grew into historical movements that changed the lives of so many.
The determination of that little girl in Lisieux is certainly an inspiration to all. In our personal lives, and as a nation, we must never loose our determination. Maybe we never really reach an end goal, because when we do, there should be yet a further one. As Barack Obama said the night he won the Presidency, "This victory alone is not the change we seek, it's only the chance to make that change."
She was a simple french girl, born into a family that had no shortage of drama, and trials and tribulations. She became a nun the very second the Bishop would allow, as she petitioned to enter at the age of only 15. She lived only til the age of 24, having died of Tuberculosis. Though her suffering was great, she never uttered a word of complaint. Today, among other things she is the patron of the Missions, and people who are living with AIDS.
The determination demonstrated by this young girl is undoubtedly an inspiration to all. Gaining entry into Religious Life is no easy task, but Therese at such a young age was determined to start her life of ministry as soon as possible. Her personal writings document her struggles living in community, her frustration with fellow nuns, and her pain and suffering from her illness. In 1997 the writings of this silent suffering servant resulted in the Church bestowing on her the title of 'Doctor of the Church', a title that has only been given to 33 people.
Lord knows there are many lessons I could take from her life and ministry. My sufferings are far from silent, and mny frustrations with others are rarely kept quiet either. Her determination however, is the quality I most hope to perfect. The best things in life require patience, determination, and sacrifice, but are worth every step. When I would complain while I was in Seminary, Priest friends would encourage me by saying once I reached my goal of Ordination to the Priesthood I would see that it was worth every suffering.
I guess at certain junctures in life we make a choice, we decide if the ends justifies the means. We decide if at this time in our lives, is the goal worth all the hard work. The danger is that we end up complacent. Too often we settle for less then we should, because it's easier that way. That's how so many people on the road to a "career" end up "stuck in a job" instead, because it's easier to tred water then to swim upstream. That's how so many people end up in relationships that are unhealthy, because it's easier to stay then to leave. That's how so often we may fail to speak up against things we disagree with, because it's easier to remain silent then to cause some waves.
How many movements in our nation and world would've died in their first moments if people had bought into that complacency. The gay rights movement, the end of segregation, the liberation of women, indeed our nation's very independence, were all movements that began with a small ripple and grew into historical movements that changed the lives of so many.
The determination of that little girl in Lisieux is certainly an inspiration to all. In our personal lives, and as a nation, we must never loose our determination. Maybe we never really reach an end goal, because when we do, there should be yet a further one. As Barack Obama said the night he won the Presidency, "This victory alone is not the change we seek, it's only the chance to make that change."
Monday, September 21, 2009
Yesterday while walking through Six Flags, a friend of mine received that phone call that no one ever wants to get. A dear friend, and former lover of his had passed away...at only 24 years old. A young man who was full of life, love, and ignited a room with his personality. As the day and evening moved along, word began to spread. His friends were naturally shocked, and undoubtedly today the reality of this horrific situation has certainly started to settle in.
Although I personally didn't really know him , I do know the impact his passing has made on my friends. It has made me think a lot about life. I have had extensive experience with death in my life. That experience includes family members, a priest friend who meant the world to me, and strangers I never knew at whose caskets I offered prayers and words of consolation to mourning family members while I was in Seminary. My ministry in the Office of Catholic Cemeteries resulted in my involvement in more burials then I can count. No one's passing however has ever made me really stop and think.
I think that we sometimes forget that we are not invincible. We forget the fragile nature of our lives. We let things get to us, and stress us out, that at the end of the day don't matter. We waste energy being upset about things that perhaps are not as important as we think they are in the moment.
When I was in Seminary I remember offering words of consolation. Words that came from a deep rooted, sincere faith in God and Heaven, and everlasting life. Those sentiments however do not take away the pain of those who mourn their loved one's passing. Those sentiments do not bring back the person that has been lost.
Our lives our short...in the end we have no idea how short. So we need to live everyday to it's fullest. We never know the impact we have on other people, and we never realize the impact other people have on us until it's too late. To my friends who mourn his passing, I offer my condolences, and prayers. I also remind you to carry him always in your heart, and live the lessons you learned from his friendship. To all my readers, and to myself, I can only say that we have no idea how much time we have, so don't waste any of it.
Although I personally didn't really know him , I do know the impact his passing has made on my friends. It has made me think a lot about life. I have had extensive experience with death in my life. That experience includes family members, a priest friend who meant the world to me, and strangers I never knew at whose caskets I offered prayers and words of consolation to mourning family members while I was in Seminary. My ministry in the Office of Catholic Cemeteries resulted in my involvement in more burials then I can count. No one's passing however has ever made me really stop and think.
I think that we sometimes forget that we are not invincible. We forget the fragile nature of our lives. We let things get to us, and stress us out, that at the end of the day don't matter. We waste energy being upset about things that perhaps are not as important as we think they are in the moment.
When I was in Seminary I remember offering words of consolation. Words that came from a deep rooted, sincere faith in God and Heaven, and everlasting life. Those sentiments however do not take away the pain of those who mourn their loved one's passing. Those sentiments do not bring back the person that has been lost.
Our lives our short...in the end we have no idea how short. So we need to live everyday to it's fullest. We never know the impact we have on other people, and we never realize the impact other people have on us until it's too late. To my friends who mourn his passing, I offer my condolences, and prayers. I also remind you to carry him always in your heart, and live the lessons you learned from his friendship. To all my readers, and to myself, I can only say that we have no idea how much time we have, so don't waste any of it.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Pilgrims
Bishop Tobin, in his weekly reflection, this week discusses Archbishop Rembert Weakland's Memoirs entitled "A Pilgrim in a Pilgrim Church". Archbishop Weakland made somewhat of a name for himself when in the height of the Church Sex Scandel his own sexual transgressions with a youngster came to light, as well as the cover up that followed it. His book concludes with, "My story now comes to an end . . . Like all the other tales of human pilgrimage it must end with a fervent prayer for God’s gracious love and mercy on such a flawed but grateful pilgrim"
The quote reminded me of similar words heard spoken only a week ago by Senator Ted Kennedy to the Pope. The text of the letter was made public at the final commendation ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery. In the letter he informs the Pontiff that he is dying of Cancer, and informs him of his stance on so many issues. He writes, "I want you to know, your Holiness, that in my 50 years of elected office I have done my best to champion the rights of the poor and open doors of economic opportunity. I’ve worked to welcome the immigrant, to fight discrimination and expand access to health care and education. I’ve opposed the death penalty and fought to end war."
The final paragraphs of his letter admit that although he has not been perfect, his faith has always been his rock, and center. When those words were read I thought they could be the words of any of us who are believers, as none of us have made the journey perfectly. The Archbishop is right, we really are all Pilgrims.
This year I turned 28, and I thought recently about when I was kid, I remember going to New York to celebrate my Brother-In-Law's 30th Birthday. He was quite the man in my eyes. A successful finance worker, with the body of a body builder. He lived in a gorgeous, spacious two bedroom apartment in Hoboken NJ. When you stood on his deck you looked at the Manhattan skyline. He took my sister to the nicest restaurants, wore nice suits, and was all around impressive. At least he impressed me! Then again I was just a kid. I remember thinking, that's what life had in store for all of us, as we got older we would naturally just get better and better.
Who's to say what age we have to be to reach certain marks in our pilgrim journey. Had I remained in the Seminary, this summer would have marked my two year anniversary of being a priest. The day of my class's Ordination to the Sacred Priesthood I attended. I put on my finest suit, and went to the Cathedral to sit and watch them achieve the dream that I had held in my heart and soul my entire life. At the Cathedral I watched with a joyful pride for my classmates and their momentous accomplishment. However in private, I cried. I cried a lot. What road was the right one to turn down for this Pilgrim if that was not the one?
One thing is for certain, life is not easy. For lack of a better word, it frankly sucks. No matter what choices we make we can never please everyone, we are always hurting someone, and when one challenge is overcome, there is another one to immediately follow. When I was in Seminary I thought when times got tough it was God's way of telling me that I was on the wrong track...now I see that is not the case at all, nobody has it easy. There are those people who we think do have it easy, but they face challenges and troubles too, we just will never know them. On the backside of every lovely and beautiful tapestry is hidden the knots, loose strings, and ties that make it up.
So how do we measure the success of our individual pilgrimage? Ted Kennedy's letter to the Pontiff highlighted his accomplishments, no doubt those things contributed to his end of life evaluation. The Archbishop, although he ends his text with words of prayer for mercy, he notes that he is a "grateful" pilgrim, for the many blessings and fortunes he had along the way. Clearly a man who feels there has been success somewhere along the twisted roads he traveled.
What strikes me also is the response that came from Rome. His response came from one of the Holy Father's assistants, in which he said; the pope got your letter, he is sad you are sick, he prays you are consoled, Mary loves you. If I were Ted that response would have been a deep disappointment. When I was a boy, maybe in the fourth grade, I wrote a letter to the Pope. In this letter I boasted of my aspirations to be a priest, shared my pride in my father's life of ministry as a Deacon, and asked him to pray for me. I told him about how I had watch World Youth Day on TV and one day hoped to attend. I later received a letter in return, which came from a Papal Assistant. It infromed me that; the pope got your letter, he's glad you want to be a priest, he prays you remain faithful to your goal of being a priest, Mary loves you.
The response is not much different then that of Ted's. To a fourth grader that response meant the world! I had a letter from the pope. As I got older I eventually came to realize that it was the same generic response everyone gets who sends a letter to the Supreme Pontiff. I certainly understand the reality of the situation, the Pope's concern about greater things, etc etc. However I find it to be ironic, and at 28 years old, I find so often when I turn to the God who I trust and believe so deeply in. . . I am still getting the same flat generic response; I got your prayer, stay strong, Mary loves you.
There comes a point in the Pilgrim journey when we need some kind of a break, where something's gotta give. There comes a point in life when we all begin to wonder when the roadblocks, speed bumps, and stop signs are going to pay off. I guess this is written by the hand of a frustrated pilgrim. However we keep going, despite the weariness. We utilize the rest stops along the way, and then gather it together and keep going. We keep going towards that end that we don't even know. We have our hopes and dreams of what that end will be but we won't find out until we get there.
The quote reminded me of similar words heard spoken only a week ago by Senator Ted Kennedy to the Pope. The text of the letter was made public at the final commendation ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery. In the letter he informs the Pontiff that he is dying of Cancer, and informs him of his stance on so many issues. He writes, "I want you to know, your Holiness, that in my 50 years of elected office I have done my best to champion the rights of the poor and open doors of economic opportunity. I’ve worked to welcome the immigrant, to fight discrimination and expand access to health care and education. I’ve opposed the death penalty and fought to end war."
The final paragraphs of his letter admit that although he has not been perfect, his faith has always been his rock, and center. When those words were read I thought they could be the words of any of us who are believers, as none of us have made the journey perfectly. The Archbishop is right, we really are all Pilgrims.
This year I turned 28, and I thought recently about when I was kid, I remember going to New York to celebrate my Brother-In-Law's 30th Birthday. He was quite the man in my eyes. A successful finance worker, with the body of a body builder. He lived in a gorgeous, spacious two bedroom apartment in Hoboken NJ. When you stood on his deck you looked at the Manhattan skyline. He took my sister to the nicest restaurants, wore nice suits, and was all around impressive. At least he impressed me! Then again I was just a kid. I remember thinking, that's what life had in store for all of us, as we got older we would naturally just get better and better.
Who's to say what age we have to be to reach certain marks in our pilgrim journey. Had I remained in the Seminary, this summer would have marked my two year anniversary of being a priest. The day of my class's Ordination to the Sacred Priesthood I attended. I put on my finest suit, and went to the Cathedral to sit and watch them achieve the dream that I had held in my heart and soul my entire life. At the Cathedral I watched with a joyful pride for my classmates and their momentous accomplishment. However in private, I cried. I cried a lot. What road was the right one to turn down for this Pilgrim if that was not the one?
One thing is for certain, life is not easy. For lack of a better word, it frankly sucks. No matter what choices we make we can never please everyone, we are always hurting someone, and when one challenge is overcome, there is another one to immediately follow. When I was in Seminary I thought when times got tough it was God's way of telling me that I was on the wrong track...now I see that is not the case at all, nobody has it easy. There are those people who we think do have it easy, but they face challenges and troubles too, we just will never know them. On the backside of every lovely and beautiful tapestry is hidden the knots, loose strings, and ties that make it up.
So how do we measure the success of our individual pilgrimage? Ted Kennedy's letter to the Pontiff highlighted his accomplishments, no doubt those things contributed to his end of life evaluation. The Archbishop, although he ends his text with words of prayer for mercy, he notes that he is a "grateful" pilgrim, for the many blessings and fortunes he had along the way. Clearly a man who feels there has been success somewhere along the twisted roads he traveled.
What strikes me also is the response that came from Rome. His response came from one of the Holy Father's assistants, in which he said; the pope got your letter, he is sad you are sick, he prays you are consoled, Mary loves you. If I were Ted that response would have been a deep disappointment. When I was a boy, maybe in the fourth grade, I wrote a letter to the Pope. In this letter I boasted of my aspirations to be a priest, shared my pride in my father's life of ministry as a Deacon, and asked him to pray for me. I told him about how I had watch World Youth Day on TV and one day hoped to attend. I later received a letter in return, which came from a Papal Assistant. It infromed me that; the pope got your letter, he's glad you want to be a priest, he prays you remain faithful to your goal of being a priest, Mary loves you.
The response is not much different then that of Ted's. To a fourth grader that response meant the world! I had a letter from the pope. As I got older I eventually came to realize that it was the same generic response everyone gets who sends a letter to the Supreme Pontiff. I certainly understand the reality of the situation, the Pope's concern about greater things, etc etc. However I find it to be ironic, and at 28 years old, I find so often when I turn to the God who I trust and believe so deeply in. . . I am still getting the same flat generic response; I got your prayer, stay strong, Mary loves you.
There comes a point in the Pilgrim journey when we need some kind of a break, where something's gotta give. There comes a point in life when we all begin to wonder when the roadblocks, speed bumps, and stop signs are going to pay off. I guess this is written by the hand of a frustrated pilgrim. However we keep going, despite the weariness. We utilize the rest stops along the way, and then gather it together and keep going. We keep going towards that end that we don't even know. We have our hopes and dreams of what that end will be but we won't find out until we get there.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Legacies
Today the Nation mourns the loss of Eunice Kennedy Shriver, sister to President John F Kennedy, Senator and Presidential hopeful Robert Kennedy, and Senator Ted Kennedy. Arguably the most influential family in America, the Kennedys have had no shortage of criticism, press, and trials in their time. The scandal surrounding this great American Camelot has been present from the very beginning. A fact that was fore-known by the girlfriend of first born, Joe Kennedy Jr., who was refused a romantic relationship because the family was far "too active" for her to marry into. Clearly she saw from the beginning the threat of constant drama and invasion from the press.
Sister Patricia was perhaps the one Kennedy sibling who lived a life of somewhat quiet reserve, marrying and having her four children. Besides the infamous fates of John and Bobby, the others lives were no quieter. Joe, who died at 29 as a war hero over the shores of England. After shocking her family by marrying a Protestant Royalty, Kathleen (Kick) Kennedy faced scrutiny when, recently widowed, she died in a plane crash with a new lover. Perhaps the most devastating Kennedy tale of all is that of Rosemary, who was a victim of a lobotomy which her father had procured for her at an early age. This resulted in her living in an institution until her death at 87 years old.
Indeed it would seem the Kennedy gene guarantee either length of life, or death by tragedy, or in Rosemary's case: both. As we all know the clouds surrounding the Kennedy name did not disperse with this generation. What followed was generation after generation of politicians, marital scandals and infidelities, and no shortage of legal escapades including everything from attempted murder to rape.
Joe Kennedy Sr., the patriarch of this complex, political monster was perhaps the first seed of drama from which this tree sprang. A millionaire by this 30s, he died at 82, practically a cripple, but the 50 years in between were a testimony to determination. He became friends with President Roosovelt, and Pope Pius XII (prior to his election as Pontiff). Perhaps he would have lived to see his dream come true of holding the highest nation in the land, had he not slaughtered his own political career with his famous "Democracy is dead in England" quote during the second World War. He was heavily criticized for his perceived antisemitism, and finally suffered a stroke, just prior to the beginning of the chain of assassinations that would rock the nation in the 1960's.
God called Moses to lead His people out of slavery to the "Promised Land." Due to incidents along the way, 40 years later he is forbidden to enter, but allowed to see it from the precipice. In today's First Reading at Mass he cries. “I am now one hundred and twenty years old and am no longer able to move about freely; besides, the LORD has told me that I shall not cross this Jordan." He hands on the legacy of this great mission to Joshua, and would die after gazing over the land which he had so treasured. He warns the people to be obedient to Joshua, and to Joshua he warns, "Be brave and steadfast, for you must bring this people into the land which the LORD swore to their fathers he would give them; you must put them in possession of their heritage."
Moses reminds Joshua that it is no small task which he inherits, but rather the fate of a nation. Joe Kennedy stood at the precipice over his Promised Land too. When he realized he would not cross that line his hopes fell to his children. First Joe Jr., who subsequently died, then to John, who of course we all know was the only Kennedy to make it all the way to that office. Each member of this generation, despite their failures, scandals, or infidelities, have just as much victory behind them. Eunice, who we mourn today was the co-founder of the Special Olympics, which started in memory of her fallen sister Rose. Many served the nation as Senators or Ambassadors. As history unfolded and this legacy crumbled it is no doubt that Joe looked on from heaven with a heavy heart, as no doubt did Moses.
We are all led to the edge of our dreams, and we only go so far. What happens next? What's our role? What goals will we reach, and what legacy will we hand on to others. Moses lacked the certainty that Joe Kennedy had. When God called Moses he tried to refuse, he argued that he was not very intelligent or articulate, that he would be a poor choice for this mission. Joshua indeed led the Jews to their promised freedom in the promised land, and then leader after leader had to bring the battle for the mission of faith to where we are today. So too was Joseph Kennedy a carrier of the dream of his father Patrick, and he of his father. What mission do we take part in? What legacy will we leave behind? Which Kennedy will we be? The one who leaves the world surrounded by scandal and inquiry, or the one who leaves in triumph, having made our mark on the world, despite our own faults and failures. This is the legacy and challange that befalls each of us, and that we struggle to achieve everyday.
Sister Patricia was perhaps the one Kennedy sibling who lived a life of somewhat quiet reserve, marrying and having her four children. Besides the infamous fates of John and Bobby, the others lives were no quieter. Joe, who died at 29 as a war hero over the shores of England. After shocking her family by marrying a Protestant Royalty, Kathleen (Kick) Kennedy faced scrutiny when, recently widowed, she died in a plane crash with a new lover. Perhaps the most devastating Kennedy tale of all is that of Rosemary, who was a victim of a lobotomy which her father had procured for her at an early age. This resulted in her living in an institution until her death at 87 years old.
Indeed it would seem the Kennedy gene guarantee either length of life, or death by tragedy, or in Rosemary's case: both. As we all know the clouds surrounding the Kennedy name did not disperse with this generation. What followed was generation after generation of politicians, marital scandals and infidelities, and no shortage of legal escapades including everything from attempted murder to rape.
Joe Kennedy Sr., the patriarch of this complex, political monster was perhaps the first seed of drama from which this tree sprang. A millionaire by this 30s, he died at 82, practically a cripple, but the 50 years in between were a testimony to determination. He became friends with President Roosovelt, and Pope Pius XII (prior to his election as Pontiff). Perhaps he would have lived to see his dream come true of holding the highest nation in the land, had he not slaughtered his own political career with his famous "Democracy is dead in England" quote during the second World War. He was heavily criticized for his perceived antisemitism, and finally suffered a stroke, just prior to the beginning of the chain of assassinations that would rock the nation in the 1960's.
God called Moses to lead His people out of slavery to the "Promised Land." Due to incidents along the way, 40 years later he is forbidden to enter, but allowed to see it from the precipice. In today's First Reading at Mass he cries. “I am now one hundred and twenty years old and am no longer able to move about freely; besides, the LORD has told me that I shall not cross this Jordan." He hands on the legacy of this great mission to Joshua, and would die after gazing over the land which he had so treasured. He warns the people to be obedient to Joshua, and to Joshua he warns, "Be brave and steadfast, for you must bring this people into the land which the LORD swore to their fathers he would give them; you must put them in possession of their heritage."
Moses reminds Joshua that it is no small task which he inherits, but rather the fate of a nation. Joe Kennedy stood at the precipice over his Promised Land too. When he realized he would not cross that line his hopes fell to his children. First Joe Jr., who subsequently died, then to John, who of course we all know was the only Kennedy to make it all the way to that office. Each member of this generation, despite their failures, scandals, or infidelities, have just as much victory behind them. Eunice, who we mourn today was the co-founder of the Special Olympics, which started in memory of her fallen sister Rose. Many served the nation as Senators or Ambassadors. As history unfolded and this legacy crumbled it is no doubt that Joe looked on from heaven with a heavy heart, as no doubt did Moses.
We are all led to the edge of our dreams, and we only go so far. What happens next? What's our role? What goals will we reach, and what legacy will we hand on to others. Moses lacked the certainty that Joe Kennedy had. When God called Moses he tried to refuse, he argued that he was not very intelligent or articulate, that he would be a poor choice for this mission. Joshua indeed led the Jews to their promised freedom in the promised land, and then leader after leader had to bring the battle for the mission of faith to where we are today. So too was Joseph Kennedy a carrier of the dream of his father Patrick, and he of his father. What mission do we take part in? What legacy will we leave behind? Which Kennedy will we be? The one who leaves the world surrounded by scandal and inquiry, or the one who leaves in triumph, having made our mark on the world, despite our own faults and failures. This is the legacy and challange that befalls each of us, and that we struggle to achieve everyday.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Birds of a Feather
Have you ever owned a Jeep Wrangler? Or ridden in the passenger seat of one? There is no better demonstration of the saying "birds of a feather flock together" then that. I have found that Wrangler drivers find it necessary to acknowledge fellow drivers of the same vehicle to blow the horn, or wave, or somehow acknowledge one another on the road. It's amusing to be certain. Today walking home from the grocery store, a fellow bald man chose to stop me (this was not he first occurrence of this nature) and comment on our common hairstyle...or lack thereof.
These are not uncommon situations. A basic part of our humanity is to rely on similarities with other sin many situations. When I was in Seminary we had common areas of the house, designed to encourage fraternization among fellow Seminarians. It built a sense of community among men who were all going through the same experience, who shared common struggles, and who rejoiced over common victories. It is the same in a Military barracks. For that matter it is the same around the water cooler in an office building. We naturally gravitate towards people with whom we share something in common. In the more serious situations we do so for support.
It is for this reason that Addiction Recovery Programs encourage the community angle of their programs. Support groups for widows, gays, the crippled, the elderly, etc etc are all based on the concept of a community driven effort to work together towards a common goal. These are all well and good, but what do we do when the comfort of others is not enough?
In the First Reading at Mass today, we hear the plight of the Israelites who are walking with Moses through the desert on their 40 year trek to the promised land. They cry and wail about the lack of food, and God send Manna from heaven, a basic bread, to satisfy their needs. God sees in this community that fellowship alone is not going to be enough, so He provides more, but no more then is necessary. The cast of vagabonds are only allowd to retain each day what is required for that meal, and no more, as a demonstration of faith that God will provide more when they need it.
If I were walking with the Israelites I would have not found this to be an acceptable compromise. I would not want to play games. In that setting I am not thinking about faith, I am thinking about realistic concerns that face me on a day to day basis, that must be met. I have needs that must be satisfied. I have a drive for the future that must be acknowledged. To me, Gods answer to my cry from the depths of despair would be viewed as Him playing games. Just give me something to eat without stipulations. Just get me to the Promised Land without delay. Just acknowledge the fact that I am putting my faith in you...and let that be enough.
Today I write this blog with that temperament. It is so easy to loose faith sometimes. Not only in god but in Justice itself. In the very natural order of the universe. The bottom line for us so often is, "look...I cant take anymore." When we offer up this prayer we are told that God will provide exactly what we need, and not a crumb more. In the case of the Israelites it means that He will govern the distribution of the bread from Heaven. In the case of the ambitious it is that He will not grant that promotion. In the case of the "underemployed" he will not provide that raise, those few cents that they don' t necessarily NEED, if they eliminate every cent of excess money that they spend.
The Israelites were God's "Chosen People", so why then did He force them to endure so much torture? Why not just give them all the food they need? Why not provide I faster means of transportation across the desert? Do we really have to suffer every step of the way? Apparently we do. Apparently it is the shoulder of others that we have to rely on. Evidently the tiny droplets of water that God offers when we are on the cusp of dying of thirst and total dehydration, have to be enough to quench our thirst.
Why does God play these games? Perhaps we will never know. Perhaps we will find all out answers in our experiences with others, or upon our own internalization. The bottom line is, while it is true that Birds of a Feather flock together, it is only God who gave them the ability to fly. It is also only God who can provide the sky in which that gift can be expressed.
These are not uncommon situations. A basic part of our humanity is to rely on similarities with other sin many situations. When I was in Seminary we had common areas of the house, designed to encourage fraternization among fellow Seminarians. It built a sense of community among men who were all going through the same experience, who shared common struggles, and who rejoiced over common victories. It is the same in a Military barracks. For that matter it is the same around the water cooler in an office building. We naturally gravitate towards people with whom we share something in common. In the more serious situations we do so for support.
It is for this reason that Addiction Recovery Programs encourage the community angle of their programs. Support groups for widows, gays, the crippled, the elderly, etc etc are all based on the concept of a community driven effort to work together towards a common goal. These are all well and good, but what do we do when the comfort of others is not enough?
In the First Reading at Mass today, we hear the plight of the Israelites who are walking with Moses through the desert on their 40 year trek to the promised land. They cry and wail about the lack of food, and God send Manna from heaven, a basic bread, to satisfy their needs. God sees in this community that fellowship alone is not going to be enough, so He provides more, but no more then is necessary. The cast of vagabonds are only allowd to retain each day what is required for that meal, and no more, as a demonstration of faith that God will provide more when they need it.
If I were walking with the Israelites I would have not found this to be an acceptable compromise. I would not want to play games. In that setting I am not thinking about faith, I am thinking about realistic concerns that face me on a day to day basis, that must be met. I have needs that must be satisfied. I have a drive for the future that must be acknowledged. To me, Gods answer to my cry from the depths of despair would be viewed as Him playing games. Just give me something to eat without stipulations. Just get me to the Promised Land without delay. Just acknowledge the fact that I am putting my faith in you...and let that be enough.
Today I write this blog with that temperament. It is so easy to loose faith sometimes. Not only in god but in Justice itself. In the very natural order of the universe. The bottom line for us so often is, "look...I cant take anymore." When we offer up this prayer we are told that God will provide exactly what we need, and not a crumb more. In the case of the Israelites it means that He will govern the distribution of the bread from Heaven. In the case of the ambitious it is that He will not grant that promotion. In the case of the "underemployed" he will not provide that raise, those few cents that they don' t necessarily NEED, if they eliminate every cent of excess money that they spend.
The Israelites were God's "Chosen People", so why then did He force them to endure so much torture? Why not just give them all the food they need? Why not provide I faster means of transportation across the desert? Do we really have to suffer every step of the way? Apparently we do. Apparently it is the shoulder of others that we have to rely on. Evidently the tiny droplets of water that God offers when we are on the cusp of dying of thirst and total dehydration, have to be enough to quench our thirst.
Why does God play these games? Perhaps we will never know. Perhaps we will find all out answers in our experiences with others, or upon our own internalization. The bottom line is, while it is true that Birds of a Feather flock together, it is only God who gave them the ability to fly. It is also only God who can provide the sky in which that gift can be expressed.
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