Archive for the ‘Spirituality’ Category

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It’s going to be warm this weekend

July 2, 2010

July 2, 2010

Our first weekend in Saint Louis was the weekend of July 4th. We had been married a week … a new life in a newly adopted city … and everything was fun, new, fresh, and filled with excitement and anticipation.

Saint Louis gave us a warm welcome. In fact, every 4th of July in Saint Louis is either hot and muggy or hot, muggy and rainy. Quite a shock, actually, for two people from the land of the people with “blond hair and blue ears,” (a comment made by Lou Holtz when he left Arkansas in 1984 to coach at Minnesota).

The 4th was on a Saturday in 1964, and the go-to fireworks display in those days was at Francis Field on the campus of Washington University, one of the venues for the 1904 Olympics. Riverfront displays would have to wait until after the Arch was completed in October of the following year.

That first year for us was also the bi-centennial celebration for the City of Saint Louis, and a special flag was flying from poles everywhere.

In addition to a new life and a new city, the Monday following that first weekend was to be my first day at work and the start of my professional career. Lots of change at one time: the two of us had graduated from college, gotten married, and moved away from home (the first time for both of us) over a period of a little more than 3 weeks. And then the need to get to work to earn a living. An adventure? You bet!

So, here I sit many years later, on the other side of both of our careers, and well into our retirement years. And it’s going to be warm this weekend … very warm.

I’ve been reading the writings of Thomas Merton off and on over the past few years. James Finley’s book, Merton’s Palace of Nowhere, has been a useful guide, and I just finished my second reading.

There is a quote from Merton on page 144 of Finley’s book that spoke to me this morning:

There is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace, my happiness depend: to discover myself in discovering God. If I find Him I will find myself and if I find my true self I will find Him.

“My existence, my peace, my happiness,” I get that. All the living and loving since that 4th of July weekend many years ago has been the beginning of molding and drawing forth a self I was not seeking, nor could I have imagined.

Career ups and downs, family joys and sorrows, reading , learning, exploring, engaging, have helped me understand the importance of others and the seeming insignificance of what Finley calls the ego-self.

He says, with a quote from Merton, that the ego-self’s “existence has meaning in so far as it does not become fixated or centered upon itself as ultimate, learns to function not as its own center but ‘from God’ and ‘for others.’”

I’m not so sure I would understand what that means if I had stayed within my comfort zone over the last 20 years. Encountering people in areas outside of my comfort zone has exposed me to many circumstances of great deprivation, discouragement, loneliness, poverty, psychological dysfunction, addiction, obsession, feelings of abandonment and despair. What can one do in such situations but grow in awareness and sensitivity of the lives of others?

There are times when my only reaction, my only response, has been to simply listen. I am either employing good pastoral technique, or I am struck dumb in the face of such hopeless situations. It is difficult to discern which in any given moment.

Retirement presents, to me, a clear choice between simply keeping busy and having something to do, something that can contribute to continued growth in myself as well as in those whom I encounter.

I am grateful I am able to choose the latter. It seems to me that making that retirement choice, or even realizing that there is a choice to be made, is the work of God’s grace … allowing the Other to help me see things differently.

Being comfortable and playing in leisure when so many are truly suffering all day and everyday doesn’t mesh with my understanding of what we are called to do in this life. That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy fishing, a good book or movie, stretching out and listening to music, going for an early morning run, enjoying a meal out with friends. But keeping things in perspective and maintaining a balance are important to me.

That’s what I’m thinking about as we enter this weekend of celebration and remembrance. I just put our flag out by the front door where it is blowing in today’s warm Saint Louis breeze. The red, white, and blue against the trees and sky is a thing of beauty and hope.

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Yes, it is easy to become distracted

May 2, 2010

In this morning’s New York Times is an article by Nicholas Kristof which is one of the more thoughtful reflections on the Catholic Church today I have ever read. He speaks so well about the true church, the people, and the relentless efforts by many day after day to fulfill our baptismal obligations, to care for the poor and others in need, to love one another.

Yes, it is easy to become distracted by the betrayal we have been (and continue to be?) subjected to by the clerical hierarchy of the church. But the people I minister to, men in maximum security prisons, aren’t concerned with what goes on in diocesan offices or in the Vatican. If the pope and all the bishops were to drop dead, their lives wouldn’t change; their hunger and need for encouragement, support, and spiritual sustenance wouldn’t be diminished.

When I am standing at a cell door, the temporal presence of the Roman Catholic Church exists in only two people: me and the man on the other side of the door. Building the kingdom, proclaiming the good news, is  a “now” phenomenon taking place at the micro level in millions of instances every second of the day all over the world. What the pope or bishops think or declare about anything isn’t really part of the picture. It seems that the work of the church goes on in spite of them rather than because of them.

That’s an unfair statement. The deposit of faith has been developed, clarified, and passed down throughout the centuries by the same type of people who seem so out of touch today. But what they do and what they teach are two separate things. Once the sheep learned to read, things began to unravel.

The gospel message began to be seen more clearly as getting lost in all the pomp, rituals, as well continued bogus claims about the origins of some of our sacraments. Elaborate schemes to maintain any and all vestiges of power while suppressing  prophetic voices questioning the mythology, are becoming more and more visible and, naturally, more repulsive.

Going through the Vatican museum a couple of weeks ago, I noticed my pace quickening as the reality of that whole farce sank in further and further. How did such a  self-serving charade ever get started? Certainly not from the gospels, the teachings and practices of Jesus.

We humans seem to be unimaginative when it comes to conferring importance on things or people we hold dear. Sacred objects need to be gold. Monuments to saints – even those dedicated to living with and for the poor – are soaring, domed, cavernous structures filled with marble masterpieces, vast frescoes and mosaics, and paintings by the masters. All priceless stuff.

Leadership of our faith tradition are given a hierarchical structure, titles, positions of power, fine places to live. Then, of course, they develop their own laws, norms of behavior, rules of obedience and secrecy, and declarations of infallibility  to keep those under their spiritual care out of the sanctuaries and where they belong.

Read the Kristof article if you can find the time.

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What a treat!

February 1, 2010

On Thursday, January 21, we headed for a conference in Albuquerque, New Mexico, presided over by Richard Rohr of the Center for Action and Contemplation. I had heard Fr. Richard  speak in 2006 at a Catholic Coalition on Preaching convocation in Fort Lauderdale.  This seemed like a good opportunity to see and hear him once again. This time, however, it would not be seeing him as a guest speaker, but at a weekend event of his own design with content of great interest to me.

This conference was entitled, Following the Mystics Through the Narrow Gates. A note on the website says, “Seeing God in all things and all things in God, we experience the peace that surpasses understanding”. My bookshelf is filled with attempts to tune into the general message the mystics attempt to convey. I have books on, or by, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Julian of Norwich, Thomas Merton, the anonymous author of The Cloud of Unknowing.  But my main intention was to gain a greater insight for my prison ministry.

The men I see each week, those in solitary confinement, are very aware of a divine presence in their spare lives. Attempts to be free from the distractions and temptations of everyday life are not of much concern for them. Everything has been taken away. Their rooms are devoid of any and all uplifting content, things to occupy their minds. There is plenty of time for reflection, and plenty of time for despair.

So I was anxious to go and didn’t know what to expect. Shortly after having registered in November, I did notice on their website that the conference was sold out. This was good news to me since there would be much interaction and discussion among the 150 to 200 in attendance. Upon arrival, I learned there were 1200 in attendance! Unexpected and exciting.

The schedule indicated sessions/presentations would be alternating between Richard Rohr and James Finley, about whom I knew absolutely nothing. What a treat! Anytime one can feel they’ve gotten their money’s worth in the first few minutes of a three-day conference, it is a real bonanza. I also came home feeling very uplifted in our faith tradition.

Once the post-conference materials are available, I’ll try to distill the whole works into smaller portions I can share.

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A blessing beyond measure

May 7, 2009

Last Saturday marked the eighth anniversary of my work as a volunteer chaplain at a maximum security prison. Eight years which have transformed my life.

How did all this unfold?

I retired at end of ’96 from a career of engineering, manufacturing, and executive management.

Having retired, I went back to school to study theology.

Studying theology, I wanted a means to express what I learned.

To express what I learned, I majored in preaching.

Majoring in preaching required a venue for my internship

A venue for internship came to be a jail/prison environment

Working in a prison environment led to the lay chaplain role I am now in.

So, eight years of ministering to those in solitary confinement have given me the confidence to minster to those awaiting execution, have led to more impactful preaching at prison prayer services, have made me a more patient listener to those who struggle, have prepared me for a whole spectrum of emerging spiritualities, have been a blessing beyond measure.

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Is that why I stand in awe?

April 24, 2009

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to preach on John 20:19-31 at a communion service in a maximum security prison.

For so long, that reading had held the “Doubting Thomas” sort of appeal for me. Did he actually touch the wounds or not? That sort of thing.

Then I went through the stage of finding it incredible that Jesus’ first words to the gathered disciples … those guys who had abandoned him, had fled into hiding leaving him to be beaten and executed … were “Peace be with you.”

On Friday, my focus was to explore, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

But yesterday morning, while driving to the prison, there came to me out of nowhere, “Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.'”

With that invitation, Thomas replied, “My Lord and my God!” Thomas’ sudden awareness arose in the close proximity of Jesus’ suffering, the nail holes in his hands and feet, and the gaping wound in his side. Those perfect symbols of his Passion made present, to Thomas, our loving and gracious God.

In my prison work, in my ministering to men in isolation, have I too been invited to “touch” those wounds? Is that why I stand in awe at the divine presence made manifest in those despised, abandoned, forgotten, and suffering men? Do I hear, “Thomas, put your fingers here and see my hands.”? And in my inner-most being do I reply, “My Lord and my God.”?

Why did all this occur to me as I drove to the prison yesterday? Maybe it is because I have been struggling for eight years to understand how I can find joy and peace in such a horrible and demeaning environment. When I leave the prison, there is a lingering sadness yet a clear feeling of hope. For days, the faces and voices of those men move among and through my thoughts and reflections.  For me, Jesus’ statement in Matthew 25, “I was in prison, and you visited me,” is not a figure of speech.  It’s real. He’s there in the collective suffering and despair.

Yesterday was a tough day. Three of the men I visited face the prospect of execution in the next several months.  Another is in a legal limbo with the death penalty a very real possibility. But I have found that letting them talk through their anxieties and fears is a way to take those fears out of their imaginations, and out of their guts, and to put a voice, their voice, the spoken word to their grim reality.

I’m afraid that from now on I will see those wounds … waiting for me to touch … waiting for me to acknowledge that this work is of a most sacred nature. Through him, with him, and in him.

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Much reflection is needed

April 23, 2009

This morning I was on my usual drive to the prison. As I rounded a long curve in the Ozark mountains, I had an epiphany. Much reflection is needed, but I will post it soon.

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