Hard Habits to Break

I found this article “Breaking Bad Habits: Why It’s So Hard to Change” a while back, and it spoke to me.  I guess part of the reason is because I know I have unhealthy behaviors, and I’m often uncomfortably aware and, at times, even really bothered by other people’s practices, usually because they in some way mirror or bring to the surface weaknesses I have.  This article reminded me of what is helpful and productive in breaking bad habits and establishing good ones in their place.

     
A big part of my problem is that I tend to minimize the effects of what I do and how other people are inadvertently harmed in the process.  Comparing the severity or seriousness of something I could change with someone else’s addiction (whether clinically diagnosed as such or not) isn’t a good way to grow in holiness or compassion.

    
As we are reminded in the Gospel of Luke 18:9-14, when the Pharisee exalts himself before the Lord for his supposed righteousness and the tax collector stays in the back of the sanctuary begging God for forgiveness, acknowledging that he is a lowly sinner, desperately in need of God’s mercy, we see what’s in these men’s hearts.  The minute we take credit for any of the goodness in us instead of thanking God for it, we run into trouble, pride, and veer into self-righteousness. 

We think we are good because we keep the laws and do what we’re supposed to do, but if we are doing everything for show or the admiration, attention, or respect of others, God sees through that.  He knows what’s in our hearts, whether we care to acknowledge He knows us more intimately than we know ourselves or not.    

   
There have been way too many times in my life when I have judged others because of the decisions they make, though I’m often guilty of similar mistakes and sins.  My thoughts go generally something like this: Well, at least I’m not doing what so-and-so is doing.  What they are doing is sooooo much worse and more despicable, destructive, immoral, sinful, disgusting…  I would never stoop so low as that.  Wow!  I can’t believe they can’t see what a mess they’re making of things.  I mean, really, someone should do an intervention or something.

    
Does that line of thinking sound familiar to you?  Over the years, I’ve learned that when I feel really upset by something someone is doing, it’s most often due to the fact that their behavior triggers an area of weakness in me.  In seeing someone else as different, less noble, less fragile… less anything, then we are refusing to look at what inside of us is lacking. 

    
It’s always easier to point fingers and criticize others than it is to take responsibility and ownership for the decisions we make and things we do that reflect that we are just as proud, arrogant, selfish, sinful, and disillusioned as they are.  (I covered this topic in a blog post titled What's the Best Reason I Know to Have a Personal Relationship with God? I Am!) 

    
Simone Weil stated that: “Every sin is an attempt to fly from emptiness.” This quote appears in the Magnificat magazine for Sunday, October 27, 2013, and seems to fit perfectly. We all go from temptation into sin for the same reason: to escape the pain of missing something that we want or need, to fill a void that is real or imagined. 

    
A destructive habit or behavior is always an attempt to make up for some aspect or way in which we feel we are lacking or at the very least to distract us temporarily from the discontent, inadequacy, or “emptiness” we are experiencing.

    
Only in acknowledging the places inside of us that are broken, empty, and in need of healing are we able to empathize and have compassion for others.  If we look down on and judge others who choose to do things to avoid their own emptiness which we find reprehensible, then we are often unaware of their level of pain and suffering, and/or we refuse to concede that it is in any way similar to our own. 

    
People deal with pain and suffering in different ways.  One person’s way of coping might not necessarily seem as detrimental as another person’s, but so many of the things we do to suppress our pain, distract ourselves from it, and/or merely survive through it are harmful to our souls, our relationship with God and others.

      
This reminds me of a very famous quote of Blessed Mother Teresa: “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”  Rarely do we know the situation that someone else is in, the details of their lives, the source or depth of their hurt, and even when we do know a great deal, we don’t know everything.  If we set ourselves up as a judge of someone else, then we are, in essence, saying that we are superior to or somehow better than they are in some area.  Again, in distancing ourselves, we deny the ways that we are lacking, whether it be regarding knowledge of the situation or compassion for another’s weakness. 

    
There was an activity we did at a personal growth seminar many years ago that has stuck in my mind.  The speaker begins describing a situation and talks about what a person does, then participants are asked how they would respond to the individual in those circumstances using body language that ranges from hostile/disapproving to welcoming/friendly.  When told the first part of the scenario, most people indicate they would be upset and react negatively.  Then the speaker continues with a little more backstory, and the more people find out about what this person is going through, the more compassionate people become.  For example, the inattentive, seemingly rude salesclerk is seen through the eyes of compassion once we know that she’s a single mom undergoing chemotherapy but has to come into work though exhausted and feeling sick to put food on the table.

    
The next time we are tempted to judge someone, we could instead pray and ask God to show us what is lacking or feeling empty in us that makes us feel the need to criticize or put down someone else.  It’s a lot more uncomfortable to acknowledge that we’re triggered by other people’s behavior and blame them for what they’re doing than it is to take responsibility for our reaction to other people’s choices and the pain we experience to the Lord for healing.

    
Another solution that has worked many times in addition to prayer is to ask questions and really listen to what the person has to say.  So few people are good at actively listening, and even those who know how to do it don’t necessarily practice it all of the time. 

When all else fails, we can stop and pray what many have come to call "the Jesus prayer:" “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me a sinner.”               

Because I Am Furniture

    Can you break the patterns of abuse in a household of five where there’s only one person willing to admit the truth about what goes on behind closed doors?   
     Because I Am Furniture is heartbreakingly real.  I was profoundly moved by these poems and curious to discover how well a novel-length story would be told through them in a way that would appeal and speak to young adults.  It’s been a while since I immersed myself in writing and reading poetry.  It felt very good to get back into it and see how forceful and powerful poems can be in conveying raw human emotion, longings, fears, and honest thoughts we’d rarely, if ever, say aloud…
     I was worried when I checked this book out of the library that I might find it more of an experiment on the page of breaking a prose novel into lines and calling them poems, but I was pleasantly floored by this poignant poetry and how well-crafted each piece of the story is—lyrically and in a literary sense. 
     Because I Am Furniture reminded me how beautifully naked emotion and serious conflicts can be arranged on the page as well as how essential it is to keep in mind that every word, every syllable counts.  I needed such jarring evidence that we do a major disservice in whatever we write if we add fluff to cushion the blow or water down the stark reality and piercing pain that exists in real life. 
     I found myself praying for victims of all types of abuse as I read this.  That’s the only way I could keep going when I know that there are people who are actually living in such terrifying situations as this one.
     The fear of speaking out against the perpetrators of such horrifying acts is quite tangible in this novel, as is the heartache of someone who carries the burden of seeing what’s going on and knowing it needs to stop, but who isn’t sure how to end the vicious cycle in effect.
     To read more about Because I Am Furniture or to order your own copy, click here.

Until Lily (Book 1 in the Lily Trilogy)

God’s done it again, and this time through a beautiful novel, the first in a trilogy.  I read Until Lily at the perfect time.  Lately, I’ve been reminded of how vulnerable it makes us to love others deeply, to let them into our hearts and know we’ll never be the same.  We might resist letting others get too close at first, thinking of the times in the past when our trust has been betrayed and/or our love rejected.  Letting others into our lives and into our hearts can be frightening at times and challenging when we are still mourning a previous loss. 

     
Journalist turned author Sherry Boas has crafted a moving story with lovable characters.  She dives right into some of the major life decisions, struggles, and challenges we face in relationships, especially with family members, taking care of children and the elderly and opening our hearts to those whom God places in our lives.
     
I love the authenticity with which the narrator Bev shares her story.  She is brutally honest about her thoughts, feelings, fears, troubles, and pain, past and present.  Many will be able to easily identify with her frustrations, reluctance, transformation, doubts, frailness, courage, and goodness. 
     
Boas paints a clear picture of the metamorphosis that takes place when we truly love someone and allow them to love us in return.  The growing pains are real, but so is the joy of being loved, and feeling such profound love for another person that you can’t imagine your life without that person in it.    
     
I’m really looking forward to reading the next two books in the Lily Trilogy: Wherever Lily Goes and Life Entwined with Lily’s.
     
This review was written as part of the Catholic book reviewer program from The Catholic Company. Visit The Catholic Company to find information on baptism gifts or first communion gifts.

Tell Me the Truth, though It May Be Daring

     In many ways, it’s human nature to want to keep our failures, guilt, shame, insecurities, and struggles away from others.  To some extent we do that with every single person in our lives, at least I do.  I hide some facet of who I am (or at least I think I hide it), so that someone isn’t as likely to judge or reject me, like I assume they would if only they knew some of my deepest darkest secrets.

     In a sense there’s truth to the statement that you’re only as sick as your secrets.  Those things which we are too ashamed, horrified, embarrassed, humiliated, afraid, or traumatized to talk about with others or even be honest with ourselves about, are most likely the areas in our lives where there are deep-seated lies and a measure of stronghold over us because of the fear of being exposed. 
     There have certainly been times after I have shared something incredibly personal that I have worried that person betray my trust.  Most often I have feared that the more people find out about me and the better they get to know me, the more likely they will be

The Freedom to Refuse Love

I am often reminded that God gives us the freedom to refuse love when I spend time with my family.  Over the years, there have been times when I have hardened my heart to family members whose own pain and insecurities at different periods mirrored those I kept deeply hidden in order to cope. 

     
To those whom I kept at a distance, it probably seemed that I was judging them.  Sometimes that’s precisely what I was doing, being hyper-critical of others as well as of myself.  Other times, the true motivation was hidden even from me.  In order to continue putting one foot in front of the other when I believed so many lies about myself, God, and others, I’d push people away.  
     
Anyone who made it virtually impossible for me to remain undisturbed, especially emotionally or spiritually, I attempted to keep from getting too close.  I didn’t want to have the pain and hurt I was feeling be triggered or exposed by what they were going through.  I also feared what might happen if I was honest about what I was thinking and feeling.
  
Harsh criticism, judgment, and subsequent rejection were/are a few of my most prominent fears.
     
I offer my feelings of rejection, humiliation, and inadequacy to Christ on the cross.  He alone understands the depth of the pain each one of us has gone through.  He’s the only one who hasn’t walked away for a time or forever when we have been nearly consumed by suffering in mind, body, and/or spirit.  

As hurtful as it is to find out that the homemade gift I spent days working on is in the back of a closet or that the letter that I spent hours composing carefully and prayerfully was never even opened, I know the rejection of God’s unconditional love has to be the most excruciating.  Nothing I’ve said, written, made, done, or could do would ever match or even begin to express the magnitude of love God has for each one of us.  
     
His gifts of unlimited love and true sacrifice through the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, His life, Passion, Crucifixion, and Resurrection are the only unblemished offerings that exhibit the virtues of selflessness and charity, mercy and forgiveness at their best.  I find myself wanting more than anything else to be able to love others as God loves us, at the same time that I see how each and every one of my attempts has and will fall short. 
     
The best I can ever do is to accept God’s love for me, so I am able to pass it on to others.  This has been one of my greatest stumbling blocks.  I can so easily see and even feel the love God has for others.  I often have no trouble at all sensing that the Lord is at work in and through others. 
     
Though I’m undoubtedly still my own harshest critic, I have had quite a bit of feedback over the years about who I am, what I say, write, do, stand for, etc. from my family members.  I’m most definitely guilty of spending more time judging people than loving them, myself included, so it’s not a huge surprise that same tendency is true of others close to me.          
      
I sometimes feel a bit uneasy when I get together with relatives, as their criticism of me seems to be the most poignant and the most hurtful. A number of times my attempts to reach out to them have been met with silence, which can sting as much as outright rejection. 

     
Lord, open our hearts to Your Love, so that it may pour forth in abundance over all those whose lives we touch.  Give us the courage to be vulnerable, especially when we are most likely to be rejected, keeping in mind that all love given in Your name can be used for the salvation of souls in time and eternity.  Amen.

Note to Readers:  The title and subject matter of this piece were inspired by the daily mediation by Henri Nouwen with the same name, which you can read in its entirety here.  For several months now, I have been receiving daily meditations by Henri Nouwen, e-mailed to me by the Henri Nouwen Society.  Henri Nouwen is definitely one of my absolute favorite authors, so when I discovered that I could have reflections taken from the many remarkable books he wrote during his life, I immediately subscribed.  (You can subscribe to his daily meditations by clicking here to sign up.)

Damien and the Distressing Disguise of Christ

The cross-country trip, the beard, the hair dye would all have seemed like some mid-life crisis if it weren’t for the one-man play our pastor Fr. Dan Brady did this past weekend.  A number of years ago, our pastor saw this play on PBS called Damien that was written by Aldyth Morris.  In 1978, Damien received national recognition when it won the Peabody Award.  Fr. Dan explained that this powerful play was instrumental in helping him discern his vocation to the priesthood. 

     
Fr. Dan’s been in a number of plays and musicals put on by the amazing music ministry at our church, but this was a role much different from others I’ve seen him in on stage as well as around the altar.  (Our church is in the round, and he generally walks around the altar while giving his homilies).    

     
Fr. Dan writes: “When I first saw this play on PBS in 1978, while I was in the seminary, it had a profound effect on me…”  When my husband, mom, our beloved brother, and many dear friends saw this play in 2011, it had a very profound effect on us as well.

Fr. Damien was born in 1840 in Belgium.  He joined the Sacred Heart Order, was ordained in 1864 in Hawaii while serving one of their mission churches there.  In 1873, he requested to become the priest for the leper colony on Molokai (otherwise known as Kalawao).  He faced horrible living conditions and witnessed some of the most terrible suffering imaginable, yet he refused to abandon his flock.  He clearly took his vows of charity, celibacy, and obedience to a level many other priests couldn’t even fathom.  Damien ministered to the lepers banished to the desolate, nearly uninhabitable island of Molokai in mind, body, and spirit.

     
He fought long and hard to get the lepers food, building materials for proper dwellings, and medical supplies.  He offended many with his persistence in ensuring that government and diocesan authorities would not forget or dismiss the needs of the lepers they had exiled.  Damien stood up for the sanctity and dignity of every human life.  In 1884, the priest who wasn’t afraid to get down in the trenches with his congregation to fight for what was right was diagnosed with leprosy himself.  He considered it a blessing that he was then truly one of them.  He died of the illness in 1889.

     
I doubt there was a dry eye in the place on either of the two evenings when Fr. Dan so passionately portrayed Fr. Damien.  I’m still in awe of how dedicated this priest was to serving “the poorest of the poor” who were definitely “in the distressing disguise of Christ.”  We are all called to love and serve others as Jesus did, but when people are willing to give up everything and anything that would bring them even a modicum of comfort to live out God’s will with humility and obedience, the holiness of being made in God’s image seems to shine the brightest.    

7 Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 3)

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The doctor said my husband needs the boot, and I whole-heartedly agree!  Actually it was about a month ago that Kevin went to the podiatrist and was told he should start wearing a boot that would cushion his foot more, thereby letting the many micro-fractures to heal which have been causing his arch to collapse.  I did not accompany my beloved on said appointment last month, so he left the office without the recommended boot.  I did not make the same mistake of letting him go unsupervised to last week’s appointment which is why he is now walking around with a huge boot he gets to wear for at least a month, while we’re on vacation, maybe longer, because he neglected to follow doctor’s orders the first time around. 

-2-

Word to all mothers: Wednesday evening, I had the privilege of meeting with several leaders of local ministries which respect and protect the sanctity of human life from conception to natural death.  At our regular third Wednesday of the month Respect Life meeting, we had in attendance the local leaders of a number of outreach ministries for moms, children and families in the area, including: the Pregnancy Resource Center, Young Lives, Natural Family Planning, Rachel’s Vineyard, 40 Days for Life, the Diocesan Office for Persons with Disabilities, and St. Michael’s Human Concerns committee.  We all were inspired by the amazing work being done, through the grace of God, in each of these ministries.  Each one would love to have your prayers, and if possible, your time as a volunteer.     

-3-

Finally, a sister sighting!  Close to a week after my youngest sister Theresa returned home for the summer from The Ohio State University, I finally got a chance to see her in person, give her a big hug, and have some time to catch up.  Okay, so truth be told, it’s still weird to ride around in my sister’s car with her driving, listening to music blasting out of her iPod quite similar to what I used to listen to in terms of atrocious lyrics set to a good dance beat, but I’m still glad we got to chill for a bit.  Though I know time with her big sis isn’t high on her list these days, I still look forward to it.     

-4-

Love them anyway.  In recent months, I’ve been aware of God nudging me to be better about reaching out to family members to let them know I love them and am praying for them, regardless of the response, or lack thereof.  Far too often, I’m guilty of sending a note of encouragement or support to someone I know will likely feel loved by the gesture and might somehow respond.  I know the Lord’s challenging me (yet again) to get better about expressing love and compassion to those people, especially in my family, who are more likely to keep their distance, ignore, or reject my attempts to reach out.  I’m being reminded that I need to get over any fear of rejection or criticism and just do it.  Go ahead and text, call, write…love them anyway.  I know it’s pride that keeps me from loving as Jesus loves us: unconditionally, without any reservations, restrictions, or quid pro quos.  Lord, forgive me for the times when I fail to love others more unconditionally.              

-5-

A brush-off as cause for deeper reflection.  Last week, a friend I hadn’t seen in a while came into St. Benedict’s for daily Mass.  I happened to be sitting alone that evening.  I waved hi when she came in and I thought she saw me.  When she slipped in the pew a couple rows back, I moved down, thinking she and her friend were coming to say hi and sit with me.  They didn’t even stop to say hi.  They were hurrying over to see close friends of theirs sitting on the other side of the church.  I felt embarrassed and rejected, but it put me in a much better position to pray.  I realized that often I do the same thing.  I bypass those who ought to receive the warmest greeting and am more cordial to others who aren’t supposed and when it comes down to it don’t really have the same top two places in my heart as the Lord and my husband.  I prayed much more fervently considering the number of times I’d taken Christ’s Presence and my husband’s for granted while making a big deal out of seeing other people.       

-6-

Nous avons très bien mangé… This line from “La Cantatrice Chauve” (The Bald Soprano) by Ionesco sums up one aspect of what I’m convinced made French Camp this week a success: we’ve eaten very well.  We had the opportunity to taste some delicious French foods, such as: soufflé, croissants avec la confiture de fraise (strawberry jam), pain au chocolat (chocolate pastry), deux types de fromage (two types of cheese): la Brie et la Gruyère, and sorbet.  For the second year in a row, la Gruyère won out as the most popular of the two cheeses.  The French would have been horrified to hear that we also served cheese sticks as part of snack that day, and that they were relished as well.  Shh, don’t tell!    

-7-

Weightless.  I recently came across a very moving blog written by a woman, who among many other things, has struggled with, survived, and taught others about the pain of having an eating disorder.  To read the inspiring article this wife, mother, journalist, author, and wounded healer wrote, click here.  The following comment I posted best sums up what I see as the power of Kate Wicker’s ministry: 

Kate, I would like to commend you for having the courage to share with others about the deepest struggles in your life. Clearly, you are helping many people by being honest about what you've been through. Though I've never had an eating disorder, I got dangerously close a few times when my life was really out of control. It was very difficult to do, but I have confronted a few friends over the years who I knew were suffering from eating disorders and encouraged them to get help. It can be difficult to share honestly and openly about our suffering, but it also makes mom's like the one who wrote you the note about her daughter, reach out and ask for prayers, advice, and suggestions from someone who's lived through it. May God continue to bless you and your writing ministry.    

     Check out Jennifer Fulwiler’s 7 Quick Takes Friday series and her high-traffic for good reason blog Conversion Diary.

Quiet Desperation

Most men lead lives of quiet desperation...                                                  

                                                                                      -Henry David Thoreau

Many circumstances have led me to believe that many people really do lead lives of quiet desperation. I’ve often been surprised to find out that someone I see regularly is going through a major personal or family crisis. Most of us have been taught to hide any impression of being stressed or depressed. Put aside fear or indecision, and forge ahead with a purpose. Never let them see you sweat…or sigh, give up, give in, quit. Big girls don’t cry. That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Blah, blah, blah.

I know I was schooled in the art of living the lie that everything was fine when really it wasn’t. Early on, we’re taught to get ahold of our emotions and stifle them or bury them when it isn’t considered appropriate to express them. When growing up, we learned to do this not only when we were in the grocery store and wanted candy we’d been told we couldn’t have, but also when in front of a group of our peers whose teasing only escalated if we became increasingly upset. When company came, we were told to be on our best behavior, meaning not embarrassing our parents by saying or doing anything that would reveal our true nature and upbringing wasn’t by any means Mary Poppins kind of picture perfect.

  
If almost every one of the family members and friends I am close to has one thing or another going on in their lives that is a crisis or could easily become one, then it makes me think that’s also the case with people I don’t know very well.
  

For many years, I was convinced that I shouldn’t say anything about what I experienced or how I felt because other people wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t care, and/or wouldn’t believe me. Most of their families seemed normal. I assumed my friends weren’t worried about the effects of workaholism, alcoholism, depression, or co-dependency on a family. I was right. Some of them weren’t worried about any of those things; instead, they were concerned about cancer, separation, divorce, finances, physical and/or emotional abuse, drugs, and death.

  
Now that I’ve learned more about human nature, I know adults are particularly adept at putting on a mask that tells everyone life’s just fine even when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Some people’s masks are more elaborate, sophisticated, deceptively calm, sickeningly sweet, or duplicitously attractive than others. I’ve found, lately, mine, which used to be several inches thick, has begun to wear thin—perhaps because I’m sick of keeping so much in. If I’ve fooled all of the people some of the time, then I bet you have, too. What if I take off my mask and you remove yours?

Don't Wait for Happily Never After

     “I’m a bad, bad lady, and I live happily never after,” a cute, well-behaved three-year-old girl at the school where I work informed me matter-of-factly a couple weeks ago. I burst out laughing, then quickly got a pen and sticky note to jot down this revelation. At the time she broke this news to me, she was sitting at a kid-sized snack table eating her applesauce and string cheese. Though the chairs are low to the ground, her feet didn’t even touch the floor. It still cracks me up just thinking back on the incident.
     When I was having a rough time of it last week for a myriad of reasons, I could relate to this amusing toddler’s words all too well. “I’m a bad, bad lady, and I live happily never after,” seemed to sum up precisely how I was feeling. After confronting some difficult memories that had surfaced from my past and examining my present more closely, I felt very much like a sinful woman who would never get it right. Whether it was in thoughts, words, or deeds, things I left undone and shouldn’t have or did that should have been left undone, it seemed as if I couldn’t go five years, five days, or even five minutes without thinking, saying, doing, or neglecting to do something that could make me put myself in the adult equivalent of the naughty girl chair—the negative thinking, guilt-tripping, downward spiral feeling that I’ll never be enough.
     Truth is, the problem with this line of thinking is that I’ve had it practically ingrained in my brain that there’s no such thing as being enough. There’s always more that a person can learn, grow, do, be…
     What helps me get out of the never enough cycle is that God is enough. He knows I’m not perfect—never have been, never will be. God knows that better than anyone, yet He loves me unconditionally and without limit. I can’t quite wrap my mind around that, but I’m interested in learning how to accept that love, if for no other reason, than that it will make me better able to love others as unconditionally as is humanly possible.
     Lord, please draw us closer to You in all areas of our lives. Open us up to accept Your love though we aren’t worthy of it, can’t understand it, and could never do anything to merit it. Help us to know in the depths of our being that You are enough. Amen.

Holy Thursday

Do you believe in a God who would humble Himself to wash the dirt and grime off of your feet?
  
The disciples had been walking everywhere. Their feet were likely hard with calluses, bunions, caked with dirt, sand, grime, not to mention sweaty and smelly. Yet, in order to reinforce to them the meaning of being a humble servant, Jesus washed the filthy feet of His friends.
 
I have participated in Holy Thursday services for many years, and I have had the experience of washing and drying other people's feet as well as that of having my own washed. The most poignant example of servitude when this gesture really hit home for me, though, was not Holy Week.

The most moving foot washing experience I've ever had took place one morning during our Cursillo Team overnight in an upper room at Richmond Hill (a place that is most decidedly holy ground). It was Saturday morning and there were thirteen of us sitting in a circle in a room with a huge wooden cross standing by the wall. On a table in the center of the room was a pitcher of water, a large bowl, and some towels.
 
I thought that we would do what we had done at some churches on Holy Thursday and each have our feet washed, then help wash someone else's feet. That's not what happened, though. Two women who are both very loving, selfless, humble servants (and, therefore, were perfect leaders for our team) asked us to remain seated as they came around to each one of us. We sang hymns while they gently and lovingly washed each person's feet and wiped them dry. I never realized how much tenderness and affection could be conveyed in such a simple act. Many of us were brought to tears, we were so moved by the experience.

Do you believe in a God who would eat His last meal with you though He knew you were about to betray Him?

Jesus knew that those He had spent His public life with, the people He had loved as family, those with whom He entrusted the Truth about Himself were not going to be there for Him when He suffered such brutality, anguish, and humiliation. He chose to have His last meal with the very people He knew would betray Him, deny knowing Him, and disperse in a very short time.
 
I don't know about you, but I have a hard time sitting across from people and sharing a meal with them when I think they might say or do something hurtful. Christ knew for sure that they were going to betray Him, yet He still drew them close to Him, expressed His love for them, and gave them the most precious way of remembering Him once He was no longer in His familiar human form.
 
That was when He instituted the most holy sacrament of the Eucharist, as He took the bread and wine, and taught them how to remember the Passion after the Resurrection, when food and drink made by human hands would, by the power of the Holy Spirit, become His Body and Blood.

"Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed."

This reflection was originally written and posted on my former blog April 9, 2009.

Wisdom for Everyday Life from the Book of Revelation

As seems to be the case with many people, the rich symbolism in the Book of Revelation has sometimes confused me. I’ve probably heard more about how Hollywood or a popular series of loosely Christian fiction would portray what’s described in the Book of Revelation than what scholars familiar with the doctrine, teachings, and Catechism of the Catholic Church would venture to say about the apocalyptic book.
    
I found Wisdom for Everyday Life from the Book of Revelation easy to follow and even enjoy. Fr. Veras uses a wide variety of Scriptural support and Church teachings as well as numerous examples from modern-day literature and even popular movies in order to explicate and illustrate the unusual imagery in the final book of the Bible.
    
It seems that his roles as a priest and a teacher compliment each other nicely and contribute to a writing style that is both spiritually edifying as well as engaging. He goes through Revelation and describes the significance of the major incidents and key players involved in a way that makes it understandable for those of us who have studied the Bible, know a bit about the significance of some symbols and the meaning of certain numbers, but who haven’t necessarily taken that knowledge and attempted to apply it to the beasts, dragons, wars, horses, and celestial bodies flying about that at first glance seem to be straight out of some fantasy book.
    
Fr. Veras draws parallels and points out the foreshadowing that exists among the other books in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments, and the Book of Revelation in a manner that is clear to follow, yet one which respects the mystery that still remains within the text.
    
Reading this book certainly made beginning to understand at least the main symbols and storyline in Revelation much easier than I thought it would be.
    
This review was written as part of the Catholic book Reviewer program from The Catholic Company. Visit The Catholic Company to find more information on Wisdom for Everyday Life From the Book of Revelation. I received a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Palm Sunday for some is the day when they are handed long palms at church with which they can bop their siblings on the head and show their prowess at creating neat little green crosses. It’s a day when they can sit down and listen to the Gospel because the long account of Christ’s death includes significant suffering in mind, body, and spirit.
    
Some of the last words Jesus speaks as he suffocates and dies on the cross are not what they seem. For quite some time, I thought when Christ cried out ‘“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”’ (Matthew27:46) that He was feeling and experiencing a separation from God because He had willingly taken on all of our sins. My mom pointed out a Psalm that suggests this was not the case. It’s completely changed the way I see the moments before Christ’s death.
    
As any well-educated Jew at that time knew, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” is the beginning of Psalm 22.

Even as he gasped for his last breaths, Christ was speaking of fulfilling the prophecies of old and bringing new hope. Psalm 22 is called “The Prayer of an Innocent Person.” It includes many allusions to the specific types of suffering Christ endured during his Passion.
    
For example, it says “All who see me mock me; they curl their lips and jeer; they shake their heads at me: ‘You relied on the Lord—let him deliver you; if he loves you, let him rescue you.’” (Ps 22: 8-9) This is precisely what happened when Christ was made fun of, called the King of the Jews, beaten, spit upon, and forced to wear a crown of thorns and a royal looking cloak as his tormentors insulted Him.
    
“As dry as a potsherd is my throat; my tongue sticks to my palate; you lay me in the dust of death” (Ps 22:16) describes his incredible thirst—one so strong for righteousness that He is willing to suffer the torture of humiliation and dehydration on the road to an even more painful death.
   
“They stare at me and gloat; they divide my garments among them; for my clothing they cast lots.” (Ps 22:18-19) and Matthew 27: 35.
    
In verses III and IV of Psalm 22 are words of hope, courage, conviction, faith, and praise. Why is this significant if Christ only uttered the first line? Well, let’s see. If you hear or read: “I pledge allegiance…” or “Our Father, who art in heaven…” does it call to mind the rest of the pledge or the prayer? It probably does.
    
In Christ’s final hour, He was calling to mind a Psalm the Jews would know in its entirety. With a single phrase, He got them thinking about 32 verses of Scripture that are so much more than a cry for help. For scholars of the holy book, this brought to mind a portion of the Torah that describes a person who is tortured in a number of ways, but who through it all trusts in God and knows that the suffering will ultimately result in God’s glory and inspire a long line of believers.
    
Think of this during Holy Week, and see how it changes your view of Christ’s Passion and Good Friday.

Note: All Scripture quotations are from the NAB translation.

Written and originally posted on my former blog: March 11, 2008

No Turning Back: A Witness to Mercy by Fr. Donald Calloway

No Turning Back by Fr. Donald Calloway proves nothing is impossible with God. A rebel against religion, former pothead/Deadhead, high school drop-out, heavy drinker, drug addict, thief, womanizer, who was in and out of jail and rehab without remorse or any intention of changing his lifestyle is just about the last person you’d think would be come the poster child for anything other than the epitome of what parents most fear their children will become.
 
It’s truly astounding that Donald Calloway lived through the drugs, sex, rock’n’roll, runaway, wanted by the military in two different countries years of his life. Most of his book recounts his wild and crazy escapades.     
 
His conversion experience is miraculous and actually does happen overnight. The account of his initial and ongoing conversion I find to be very compelling and hope-filled. Because it is such a testimony to the power of God to change hearts, I felt myself wishing more of the book had been devoted to the conversion part of his life and witness. I didn’t feel that quite so many gory details about his past were necessary to get across how far gone he had been.
 
At times, I felt as if there was already more than enough evidence that he didn’t care about anyone but himself, had no respect for his body, authority, and outright rejected anything to do with love of God or neighbor. I wondered if some young people who begin reading the book and haven’t yet had their conversion experience might stop and try to get away with some of the same things he did.

 That having been said, I believe this book would be a wonderful source of hope for parents, teachers, ministers, siblings, family members, and friends of people who are praying for the conversion of someone who is looking for love and acceptance in all the wrong places, thereby hurting themselves and those around them. If God has brought someone as lost as Donald Calloway once was to where he is now, then the Lord can also lead the people in our lives currently on a destructive path to a profound conversion from the inside and out.
 
I hope to get the opportunity to hear Fr. Calloway speak some day. I can imagine much of what it would be like, simply because the book’s style and tone are very conversational, but I would love to witness in person the energy and passion the Divine Mercy of God and the love of the Blessed Mother have brought into His life.
 
This review was written as part of the Catholic book Reviewer program from The Catholic Company. I received a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review. Visit The Catholic Company to find more information on No Turning Back (book).

Nobody wants me

     At some point or another, most of us have felt this way and probably heard someone else express the same sentiments. A sense of rejection and being unloved cuts right to the core. I know I have felt this way at times over the years and have heard others express in one way or another that they’ve experienced such hurt as well.
     The poem below I’ve written contains just some of the nobody wants me sentiments I’ve heard and/or felt over the years. I’m sure there are many more you could add.