There are none left but us.

                                               

 

When they have taken everything but the dignity with which you were born then they have not only won- they have only just begun.

For they will soon strip you of your own nakedness in that defining moment if only to allow you the brief glimpse of what might have been should you stand for such a thing. In a word this thing is freedom.

 

But freedom from what or rather whom, should you care to name a person in this great debacle that has become the American person. Should you allow them to cajole you into taking part of the great healthcare reform? Well and good! You should and will pay the taxes up and until the point where they ask you to pay for your own death. Of this I am sure. Death and taxes have never been so entwined as to think that you can pay for the one without the other unless of course, you opt out of paying taxes and this brings us back to death which you will surely suffer in the form of incarceration; forever.

 

It is and has been forever beyond the pale to ask to be your own country. Countries as a whole despise competition and just because you own a farm and six kids does not constitute secession from a union that, although illegally, retains the right to farm your land even if you summarily do all the work without their help. It is called the body politic from which you were supposedly formed that retains those rights to your land. You paid for it, but they own it. You may interject here at any point but the way I see things (which is askew,) it merely points to the reflection upon the greater notion of things like our Constitution that state in no uncertain terms that American citizens have the right to certain freedoms that cannot be abrogated by the government at any given time- unless they say so of course.

 

What if they were all just words? Words formed from the mouths of upstarts without an education in real politics that lived quite some time ago and did not understand the nuances that are perceived today as truth. What then would become of the state of affairs in these United States I wonder, should those “ignorant” men be discarded?

 

In a word- oblivion, for there are none greater than the masses that simply give in. It does beg the question though, of what or rather who are we fighting for. Remember those six kids on the farm? That should end the discussion, and if it does not then there is a litany of other reasons you might use to start a fire up someone’s donkey should he happen to not have a horse. That particular animal resides in Congress, the Senate and the House. I suggest you use a letter to cudgel them with, gently, as (and it matters not which party reigns,) there are several amongst them that abhor things like a fight. Even keeled; placated. These are the things that feed the animals. This is more than corn and wheat. I must admit I like them both, in all their shapes and forms, but the reality is; there is more to this expletive than the public can consume. It is not the Brave New World yet.

 

There is still a Nation under God that has and will suffer for generations and those to come. But God help the Nation that takes mine. Might not have a farm and six kids to my name, but I sure as hell respect those that do. And that is my, America.

 

 

Sometimes Travel Requires a Donkey

                                            Sometimes Travel Requires a Donkey

 

And here we awake in the wee hours of the morning to a cup of tea or a pot of coffee safe in the knowledge that no one yet knows us as we ascribe to the ritual that got us out of bed in the first place. We are, social beings but not yet- not yet. Here it is assumed that this tidbit of time will forever place us on the proper course and help us to dictate how to approach the motions of the new day with grace and poise. It is here, at that moment that we should ask the donkey how he feels about our life. Don’t have a donkey you say. That’s okay; you can buy one for about three fifty-seven on Amazon. Of course it won’t be a real donkey but I guarantee a read that may change your morning ritual if even just a tad so that not only are your senses soothed, but that ever present notion that spurs you to do something more is met as well.

 

Robert Lewis Stevenson drank coffee from the cup of the same dregs that we all do, tea from a broken pot and smoked a pipe that was adrift in memories nine times ten all the while dreaming of a well known scheme that he eventually put into practice if only to show the rest of us that it could be done. Stevenson drove a donkey into the Italian countryside and found himself in the process. Here it is that his coffee tasted better for one, yes. And yet it was his mornings that for the first time discovered became the pivot of a true and better life and allowed him to become something more than he had become. For once he had become human and in this newfound glory he finally found himself alive. The book is “Stevenson’s travels with a Donkey,” and the better part of his valor is ensconced in the value of the animal with which he chose to travel.

 

I only suggest that you read the book, not buy a donkey. Italy is but a stones throw by air I know but it is not necessary to wind up on her shores to find the essence of what he did. Still, the reality is as poignant as his need to discover something above and out of ourselves while there is still time. Time to converse without looking for an answer, time to see the form of a person while that person lives and breathes in our world, even a time to love another simply because they are.

 

Hardly the things of the present moment in which we live and moreover not the things we generally speak of over morning coffee but these things should be spoken nonetheless and at every given moment that time pursues. Should it take a donkey to get us there then that is what we buy as the element of a donkey in the Alps lends itself to a wider vision than what we normally see on the road these days. I’m thinking of truck-wide RV’s the length of a little league field and filled with television, microwaves and showers with or without potty’s. I must admit, as a writer, none of those sound appealing to either myself or the Alps. They and I deserve better, we clamor for the poetic and if either one of us were to take the high road here I believe we would choose the donkey. Robert did it in simpler times and maybe it is up to us to simplify the times. Maybe that donkey can save our lives. Either way, its just a walk in the park.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Leisure and of Liberty

                                          On Leisure; and of Liberty

 

 

There is a book out there that may have sparked the writing of many books about the same subject. But it didn’t. As such, it retained the qualities of the kind of book that most men would like to read but never found the time to. It is called “Leisure, the basis of culture.” The title alone makes you wonder why it has not been widely spread among the America’s.

 

But I have an answer to that. Of course I do and one you may not like. It is because we have no sense of true liberty anymore that we cannot even take the leisure of a good book that tells us what leisure is even about. Give me the definition of a conundrum and I will give the answer that answers why you have never read this book.

 

For leisure to take place there must of necessity be in place the right frame of mind to allow it to be in the first place. And this we call liberty. Liberty of conscience or you might rephrase this to mean liberty of time and even liberty of spirit. It is all one in the same but it is not the same for you and I who have to live it out independent of each other. And here it might seem that I am putting yet another time constraint on you to try and find the time to adhere to a little leisure.

 

I am not. The business of the farm, the job, the home dictates what time you really have and yet, for all that its worth, I offer a hope that lives within those very constraints as the book can be read in only a few short hours.

 

 But no matter the book, the time is what is most pressing and is actually what I mean to discuss. It is in time that we can discuss liberty and the means to get us from here to there. In that time is found the liberty to do what we ought to, the means by which she, liberty, is fostered and the wherewithal to see it discovered properly, like gentleman if not even unto like the scholars. It can be done with or without you but I would rather you be in than out of this one sir. Commit to liberty and she will bring you leisure. And here is where I see the whole thing played out.

 

Liberty is none other than the self in possession of self-realization. It is the ability to choose what we ought to do and not as we like in our given circumstance. Now, this is a hard thing to bear for a man, to do as we ought and not as we like. But it is necessary if we are to gain access to truth, which is the reason that leisure exists. You see, they run hand in hand. Liberty of spirit allows us to enter in to leisure and leisure propels us to enter into the something more, the essence of a life well lived.

 

It is in this life well lived that we encounter that which matters most to us: family, work.

And yet this is the exact moment that we should retreat into leisure since leisure exacts nothing from us than the being unto being. It is in the way that we understand things that things are known to us, and if in woodwork, you find the time to nurture your family than that is something you should not live without. If I find the time to write fiction have I left my family alone for so long that they are forgotten? Certainly not, it is a balance between what I have to do and what I should be doing, and though the two are entwined does not make them opposed at all but rather makes them whole, as long as the one for my sanity is what makes her sane and whole.

 

So there it lays, liberty, to do what we ought, leisure to do what we should. Take full advantage then and make the two things wholesome and alive. It is the least you can do for your family and the best of that is given to God.

The Soul of Francis Thompson

                                           The Soul of Francis Thompson

 

 

It is not hard to find the soul of a man. Live his life but once and you have it cold. That dark and mysterious place we call the mind is but the affluence of those allowed to think at the present time. We never know until called home just how many lives were effected. And yet coming home is the first thing on our minds.

 

Take Francis Thompson for a model if you will. Bereft of all meaning and yet his life had one purpose; to save you. And yet I think that serving him would have been the better part of valor. Else wise you and I are both damned if his life had no import. Why- because he was better than us, in everything besides sports and/or, lesser games of chance.

 

 

Thompson had a particular purpose in life such as you and I do not. He was alive for just one reason and that reason was reason enough. If you know nothing of his life than this alone will suffice to say of him. He was a poet first and foremost and an addict secondarily. All the same family of disease, but none so great that he never shrunk from either call of duty.

 

He wrote and was loved- he fell, and was hated for the failure, same as I; same as you. When down we recognize true friendships neither based on gain or loss and yet the funny thing is about loss, it truly can become a gain, that is should you wish it to be. They say that which does not kill you only makes you stronger. I suffer through that vapid sphere and state the fact that whatever tried to kill you is even better off dead than you are.

 

What I long to feel is sunshine on my shoulder, breathe in my share of air and share that which is of the utmost of importance in this world; honesty. For honesty breeds integrity and integrity breeds the best of us. Thompson was a breed alone and he died as such. Thompson was set apart for a particular mission that few of us could endure. Francis Thompson- is a saint.

 

Whatever we long to feel and whatever our hatred in the heart will never amount to the love that he felt for the Word and shall certainly never encapsulate now that he is gone. But for us that remain to read his work there shall never be or ever was, a more fitting mind than Thompson among us. The God of mercy read his work and of this I am sure, He found himself laughing at every turn, of the good book upside down.

 

 

 

Through the Eyes of Les Miserables

                                    Through the Eyes of Les Miserables

 

 

To quote Victor Hugo then in the epic of Les Miserables “…and we abandon ourselves to the care of Providence. That is the way one has to do with a man who possesses grandeur of soul.”

 

In this case the woman speaking is the sister of the great Bishop of her Dioceses. He is not great because he is so learned and is not so learned as to command great things. His grandeur lay in his simplicity and care for his public. He was the same debating heads of state as he was when treating the sick. And his door was always open, nothing but a small latch to keep it closed. No locks, no keys. Such was the Bishop’s trust in divine Providence that he would be taken care of. He, and the welfare of the two women that served him. As Bishop he had much at his disposal but as such he wanted nothing and took nothing as his return. He truly was a man that possessed grandeur in his soul.

 

If a survey were sent, one that happened to inquire about the belief we hold out for divine Providence, I wonder where I would put my mark? At this point I know where that mark would reside, firmly dead center. I believe, but not quite believe that everything comes from the Maker. At this point I still want to believe that some things come about because I had sufficient cause to initiate them. Fool. What does it profit a man to gain the world while losing his soul?

 

I believe that all of us fall somewhere in that median range when it comes to abandonment. We all want to hang on to the things that matter most to matter. Food clothing and the like are great luxuries which are taken for granted on a daily basis, but please, to digress, these are not the things we are concerned for the most and most likely because they are the most common necessities. What I believe most concerns us is honor, position -our own weight in the world.

 

These things make the monkey out of me in my own struggle to conquer the world at every, single, turn. I cannot fight the world and tire of fighting myself so that leaves me with fighting as Don Quixote did with his windmills. The trick is not to fight then. The trick is to be. But how does one just be I might ask. Is it written in the Sanskrit of Indian Literature, do I find that peace in Yoga, or do I find my peace in letting go and letting God be who and what he say’s He is?

 

It is the most difficult of tasks to let oneself go. And yet, we did this as children. At the pool, on the swing, we trusted our fathers to not let us down. Perhaps in the end some did. I know I have. But that great loving Father in heaven never will, never has, and as impossible as it might seem, never could let you down.

 

So we stand at the crossroad. Me and God, which will it be? How much do I need and depend on myself and how much of this am I willing to give over? Tough question as it requires the dying of self to achieve the perfect adherence to God’s eternal sacrifice for you and I. I only hope that after this Lent is done that I can look forward and believe that there is nothing impossible for this God and nothing I’ve done is possible for me alone. In hope then is where I would reside, hope and sacrifice for my good and the good of those around me.  They need that- I am here. Thank God!

The Will as Hung on the Cross

                                     The Will as Hung on the Cross

 

It is the most ignoble of signs that condition the mind when the mind left untended is given the chance to think. When the powers that be produce sentence upon a well-known figure, that figure becomes a well-known threat to the powers that be. And yet, it is exactly here that the cross of Christ resides upon the paradox that he that should lose his life will find it. It is at this juncture that the folly and whim of a dying man redeems the whole world.

 

God forbid it to be any other way and yet we, like the nobles, consider this way folly too. Maybe not in the same way that they did but lived out in our reality is the simple statement “ I, will not serve.” It is as if we say, your way might be the cross dear Lord, but not yet. Not yet.

 

Then when, when do we accept our cross when do we follow the Master unto death? Maybe it should be a question of why and not when. Fine. Why do not we follow the Master unto death?

Simply put, because it is death and of death we are deathly afraid. Giving up something material is not what Lent is made of either. Lent is a preparation for death you see and the culmination of the Good Friday service is about dying to yourself in order to resurrect with the Lord on Easter Sunday. There is, no, other, way!

 

But enough of preaching- the choir is tired. I will shake things up a bit then and let you on to a little secret. It smells of the nuance of the divine will and though I am hardly adequate to speak of such things I figure if you’ve gotten this far in the article you might want to stick along for the ride.

 

I will quote at length from a little known Dominican preacher so as to take the burden off myself. You can hate him all you want for he has now passed on into that great life and has no need of your comments. So I quote:

 

“ But for the soul that lives in God and finds its refuge in Him, everything is different…I understand nothing of this, but I accept whatever comes from the hand of God, certainly it would do no good to turn from him, where would I go? The Lord has given me everything, and now he has taken everything from me. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

 

 Dominicans have the proud stature of being those who only answer to themselves. Because they are in Christ and only answer as God wishes. It is one of them, the order of preachers, that sparked this conversation in the first place. Stone him then, not me, I am merely sending the message. And the message is, awake, lyre and harp, awake, the dawn, awake to the cross and your share of it.

 

It is fitting this lent to walk with the Lord those thousand paces to Calvary.  It is more than fitting to burn this article for all its worth. But it is never fitting to deny your cross, a cross that only you can bear. God be loved-

 

The Voices of Solitude

                                          The Voices of Solitude

 

 

In order to hear that voice, we have to be fiercely independent. Not in the way the world wants you to be, but independent of the very same voice that the world wants of you. To be free of the world then, independent of its pull- bury it and redeem it. Sanctify the world with your voice. A personal vocation for all of us but one worth having if we are ever to quell the struggles within that come from outside us.

 

Emerson has much to say about this and in many ways Emerson says more than any one of us will ever fully get, even after years of reading him. And yet, what he says is so simple we miss his cue if we don’t take the time to simplify the words he wrote. I have an essay before me that speaks of this very thing and it is my hope that I can bring it home, light the fireplace and distill the vignettes out of it. It is a cold night; I have the time and the book before me. Here then lays the thrust of the essay.

 

He called it Self Reliance, and points us first towards what that really means. It means to speak as a child does, without restraint, without worry. Simple minds need nothing more. Jesus has something similar to say. Let your answer be yes or no spoke the Lord, like children. Interesting that Emerson picks up on this when he says that: “he cumbers himself never about consequences,

about interests: he gives an independent genuine verdict.”  Oh, to be a child! Its part nonchalance and part moxy, but it is a little if nothing more than the way of children. The honesty of that statement struck me and if given the chance to start over I think I would see that most of the problems I have acquired came about because I failed to see and follow this maxim; be yourself.

 

Emerson continues in this vein and does a good job of admonishing us with the second quote. He explains where we went wrong, how we lost that childlike innocence so necessary for entering heaven. I quote- “These are the voices we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter into the world.” Why should we ever want to lose innocence? It is the very thing we need to get to heaven. The scripture speaks of becoming lambs, sheep, children, led to the slaughter, self-immolation. Why then do we stray? That very line sums it up. We give it up for the world. We let it speak for us instead of us-speaking against it.

 

And that is the why of it. We are not independent of the world. It’s thoughts and maxims speak louder than our conscience speaks and wraps us in the very thing that children despise the most.

Rules.

 

Enough rules. There is but one true rule as we were all taught and as Emerson speaks of. It is the one rule that will supercede all written rules. It is the one rule that binds them all together. I myself will bind to that rule and make myself independent of the world for the simple reason that it cannot provide. I will be a trusting child of God. I will stake my claim for independence.

The Silence Speaks Volumes

                                        The Silence Speaks volumes

 

 

In the quiet of my room, under the break of dawn, and I listen…to the birds and the stillness wafting about the outside indifferent to the will of God. But not me. Listening is an active sport and I hear from the mouths of those who simply accept it more than they can ever know from me.

 

A bird, a rock and a tree, I wonder what they can possibly know though I know the answer already and still I pose it. What they know is nothing but what they know, the ability to be and be alone. They exist so that I can know them. And that is their beauty. Me? I am a mess of emotions and wanting and it is in this wanting that I want to be something much more similar to a rock, a tree or a bird.

 

I look for simplicity in a world complicated by reason and the wanting, I alone want something more than the day I live in. I long for the day that saves me from this day, the day that might come and somehow save me from this day. But the days keep coming and I am bound by honor and duty to just be still…for this one day.

 

And therein lies the burden. Facing the day, the week, and the month. But then again, therein lies the joy of facing all this time.

 

If I in my weakness am faced with the author of all time, should I be told that it is wasting in fear and trepidation and that he had a way out? Would I take the sovereign Lord up on such an offer?

But of course; who wouldn’t?

 

And so he does provide a way out. In listening to the stillness of the bird, the rock and the tree. He gives morning to the world in an infinite stillness and evening to the same world as a place to rest. From socks to blankets he provides all we need.

 

The birds are lovely I think to myself as I feed the cats. All is well in the early morning and mourning is but a facet of life. I am free to expound on this day and allowed the creative spirit that is particularly mine for this given moment that I am allowed to use for just this one moment.

 

And then- I am quiet, alone and wrapped in the knowledge of creation. Like those socks and blankets, I feel now that I am necessary in whatever capacity I find myself. The lesser the vessel the more it is missed like a fork from a set to the dinner party as opposed to the pan that cooks the bird. You can always make do without the pan, find a solution, but that one fork missing from the set? Travesty.

 

And that is how we look at life each morning as Christians. We seek solutions in the silence and seek silence as the solution. Of course there is coffee or maybe a cup of tea to help us along, but it is there in stillness that we revive from deep slumbers to allow the grace of Christ to prod us on to our final destiny. The bird the rock and the tree just remind us of this.

The Inexhaustible Nature of Grace

                                        The Inexhaustible Nature of Grace

 

 

I have seen them on the streets, come to know them in the coffee shop and the alleyway, befriended many and have found friends in the most unlikely of places. Who are these strange creatures that defy the conventions of logic by treating of their lives as an open book.

 

Quite frankly, they are the insane or at the least, those less sane than us. Therein lies the misnomer and I am just as guilty in calling them such. For they are not insane but rather touched with an insufferable flame that could not be quenched. Here I beg to quote from Socrates in his speech on divine madness in the Phaedrus: “Madness, provided it comes as the gift of heaven, is the channel by which we receive the greatest blessings…madness comes from God, whereas sober sense is merely human.” Note that he says, provided it comes from heaven. That little caveat explains most of the issues we have with the state of one’s mental health. Yet, whether self -induced or a direct command, they still struggle with Herculean strength to understand what most of us take for granted- common sense.

 

 

Sober sense is then the opposite of creative madness, and madness becomes the better part of the human reason to propel forward the art of manhood. At least, that’s how I would read Socrates. I’m sure you disagree but suffice it to say that if you do, you are quite normal. The problem is, they are not.

 

So we have two camps encircling each other, those sober in mind body and spirit, and those who lack the very elements of any of the three. Ah. Here it is then. And stumbled upon like it is makes it so much more a revelation than had we discovered it within a normal process like logic.

 

Love. Love stumbles across things and love makes no mistakes whatsoever. Love cannot err, only humans do that when they falsely accuse love of leading them to that which it is they want instead of what love asks of them. By controlling situations and deeming ourselves as oh so necessary, we damn love and reduce it to our own petty needs.

 

Not so the ill. To them, common sense is to give the story as a message to those who have, how much they are living without. It is to propel them into the Divine Madness of which Socrates speaks and to allow them to convince you that all is not what it seems. It is to give us the chance to rise up and receive the gift that is them, and in return to receive the gift of grace from the Father. It is in the end, the gift of faith, in the end, they are the gift. The gift upon which our rational minds can work to provide that which they need.

 

 

So then, a cup of coffee and fifteen minutes of your time marks the beginning of a new adventure for those of us that suffer from common sense. I pray that we all discover madness in all its forms. For those that suffer not will, should ever the need arise, ever suffer to help another in need of something so profound as common sense.

 

And that is the nature of our being.

 

 

The Feeling of Christmas

                                                   The Feeling that is Christmas

 

 

It is an honorable under-taking; God become man yet, there is something so commonplace about it all that I believe we have missed the point.

 

As we all know, Jesus became flesh on Christmas Eve and by that very knowing we also know that he will carry his cross one day and die an ignoble death. But that is the very place we stop knowing. Knowing him, knowing the pains of such a birth to such a death. Knowing.

 

Is it enough to know a present, or must you not also know the giver?

 

Is it enough to know the giver of the present, or must we not also know that He gave us all He had?

 

Can I honor that gift with my own blood? No? Yet he did. Am I less than my master? No?

But he was. And I am called to be like him; no- to become Him. My master.

 

Is that such a hard concept for the world to accept, that I should have a master?

 

Have we been so liberated that the master has come into his own by the very body and blood we share, that I could never be anything more than the God of my own universe?

 

Heaven’s to Betsy Mary, not that!

 

I will concede that the difficulty lay in the fact that we are nothing more than human. That is the difficulty we face. But there is something else that allows us the connection, the ability to rise above mere human difficulties and take the heavens by storm.

 

It is that very same ignoble life and death of the redeemer that redeems us from the womb unto death. In Him I find my strength, in Him alone, my birth, life and death.

 

And from that simple birth springs forth all I need for Christmas this year. Everything I want has already been given and the only thing left is for me to accept it.

 

Jesus has a no return policy; all sales are final. Even if rejected once or twice that filial love is still there waiting and panting after each and every one of us, as Tiny Tim would say.

 

Let us say yes this Christmas season. And may the God of inexpressible joy lead you on to your heavenly reward.

 

 

 

 

On The Necessary Aspect of Being

                                      On The Necessary Aspect of Being

 

 

There is one thing necessary that exists as a whole without which we as humans cannot exist.

That one thing is God himself and within Himself he has no need of our existence. In other words, you need not be here. Sobering thought, but like all good thoughts, this one has a happy ending. You are anyway.

 

So suffice it to say that because of your very existence, it logically corresponds that you have a distinct and definite purpose. Most likely not the one you were told to give to the world in high school. God forbid. Might I ask what you knew in high school that propelled that teacher to make such a quip? Doubtful that it was genius, and if it was, that changed after your first major was complete. Dare call me wrong but I have to assume that most of what you know was learned in the field of hard knocks, on the job training and piecing things together that had no bearing upon your education. Call me cynical and I would agree. I am- cynical.

 

Because I do not believe that anything in life is neither happenstance nor do I believe that this is all and the very sum of you’re education- or mine. I believe it is life in the making and there is oh so much more of it than you  (or I) tend to make of it.

 

That which I seek is purpose. And I propose to offer a few suggestions as to how to go about getting one. One; seek. Seek out the old and in doing so we find that it was once new and somehow relates itself to the Garden of Eden when once this was new as well. And yet it was old, as old as time itself what with all the entails of a life well lived with the ancients before the fall.

 

Know; know that God in all His goodness once loved you before the fall and loves you even more than this since becoming fallen. Why? Ask Him, he knows you better than I. I’ve even yet to meet you.

 

Fall: seven times a day. But pick yourself up and be prepared to fall again. Nothing worth trying is ever not worth falling for. Just think of your wife. You fall seven times seventy times a day for her. Why not for God?

 

Have faith, but not the myopic vision that wants to believe that everything will be all right because you tow the line. I speak rather of that belief that tells me everything is going to be all wrong because it flies in the face of the fashion of our time. Doing God’s will got all the prophets killed. Do you see it now? Are you ready for the cross? No, no one is. Be ready anyway.

 

In the end it really is about relationships. You and I, us and Christ, you and the world. But I would rather see one of us make it and I rather it be you. I fall those seventy times seven times everyday, you though, shouldn’t have too. Make it a rather boring day tomorrow and get up to plow the horse. The entrance to heaven is populated with folk just like us.

 

 

On the Soul of the apostolic Nature of Grace

                               On the Soul of the Apostolic Nature of Grace

 

Sitting here on a Sunday finds me reading the Confessions of St. Augustine for the fourth time in as many years. Rife within his mission it is to bring me to believe those things, which I not only have believed but also do still believe even though I have a hard time believing them, namely, the nature of grace and its application to my daily life. For what sort of life have I lived if not for the very grace that allowed me to live it?

 

 Certainly not one of my own for as it is written; “Apart from God you can do nothing.” But that being said, nothing should daunt us from that very thing that Christ wants of us and so ardently denies those who might thwart his plans. I speak of unconditional surrender.  You speak of divide and conquer and I concede with a yes- divide me, conquer this tepid immoral soul.

 

Too much? Well then, when was the last time you read Augustine? He tends to make you feel small and is probably the reason not enough of us read him anymore. The fact is, most of us need to feel important, worthy of the Christian call when in fact none of us are worthy to tie the sandal straps of the almighty and yet in arrogance we think we should have ours tied by him.

 

We ask for bread and he provides. We ask for manna and he gives us meat, then we ask for manna because the meat is too tough and therefore he gives. We ask for our cross to be taken from us and he says no, it is enough for you and there rebellion begins with the forgetting of the manna, bread from heaven…the Eucharist. When did we forget our God? At the very moment that we forgot ourselves and focused on the me. At the very same time that we forgot our parents is the same exact moment that we stopped living in community with the body of Christ. It happened nowhere near puberty but at the exact moment we stopped eating our peas. And in that moment we exclaimed, “ I will not serve.”

 

What you meant was, you will not serve me, but rather, I will serve myself regardless of your concern. Evil never eats the peas, and the good in us always eats the carrots too. There, at that moment, the great teacher instilled in us the option to choose and that option remains the rest of our lives. Some take it, many do not, but it is there- waiting like a feather waits to fly, hanging on for that one last dear moment before death that is the Christ we know.

 

 Be still and know that he is God. Be still (and yes it bears repeating,) and know that the God of the universe is much better equipped to bestow upon us all that we need while needing nothing from us; except our whole heart. Now, those of us in love know what it means to give your heart to another so, begging the question, why not give it to God? It cannot hurt you know. God always gives back ten-fold. And if we would only try, God will make up the difference, guaranteed.

 

   

On Leisure and of Liberty

                                          On Leisure and of Liberty

 

 

There is a book out there that may have sparked the writing of many books about the same subject. But it didn’t. As such, it retained the qualities of the kind of book that most men would like to read but never found the time to. It is called “Leisure, the basis of culture.” The title alone makes you wonder why it has not been widely spread among the America’s.

 

But I have an answer to that. Of course I do and one you may not like. It is because we have no sense of true liberty anymore that we cannot even take the leisure of a good book that tells us what leisure is even about. Give me the definition of a conundrum and I will give the answer that answers why you have never read this book.

 

For leisure to take place there must of necessity be in place the right frame of mind to allow it to be in the first place. And this we call liberty. Liberty of conscience or you might rephrase this to mean liberty of time and even liberty of spirit. It is all one in the same but it is not the same for you and I who have to live it out independent of each other. And here it might seem that I am putting yet another time constraint on you to try and find the time to adhere to a little leisure.

 

I am not. The business of the farm, the job, the home dictates what time you really have and yet, for all that its worth, I offer a hope that lives within those very constraints as the book can be read in only a few short hours.

 

 But no matter the book, the time is what is most pressing and is actually what I mean to discuss. It is in time that we can discuss liberty and the means to get us from here to there. In that time is found the liberty to do what we ought to, the means by which she, liberty, is fostered and the wherewithal to see it discovered properly, like gentleman if not even unto like the scholars. It can be done with or without you but I would rather you be in than out of this one sir. Commit to liberty and she will bring you leisure. And here is where I see the whole thing played out.

 

Liberty is none other than the self in possession of self-realization. It is the ability to choose what we ought to do and not as we like in our given circumstance. Now, this is a hard thing to bear for a man, to do as we ought and not as we like. But it is necessary if we are to gain access to truth, which is the reason that leisure exists. You see, they run hand in hand. Liberty of spirit allows us to enter in to leisure and leisure propels us to enter into the something more, the essence of a life well lived.

 

It is in this life well lived that we encounter that which matters most to us: family, work.

And yet this is the exact moment that we should retreat into leisure since leisure exacts nothing from us than the being unto being. It is in the way that we understand things that things are known to us, and if in woodwork, you find the time to nurture your family than that is something you should not live without. If I find the time to write fiction have I left my family alone for so long that they are forgotten? Certainly not, it is a balance between what I have to do and what I should be doing, and though the two are entwined does not make them opposed at all but rather makes them whole, as long as the one for my sanity is what makes her sane and whole.

 

So there it lays, liberty, to do what we ought, leisure to do what we should. Take full advantage then and make the two things wholesome and alive. It is the least you can do for your family and the best of that is given to God.

The Great Dialouge of Faith

                                                 The Great Dialogue of Faith

 

It is truly a travesty to be at odds with one another in an already divisive culture where television dictates what to believe and what to consume and politicians gyrate in impossible poses promising things that can only come about through your hard earned dollar.

 

Enter the apologia. The term is Greek and means simply defense. Defense of your faith to be exact. It is an ancient term and one pregnant with meaning. It never fights, but it admonishes and leads to thoughts you may have or have not had before entering into the great dialogue. And sometimes this means saying things that are hard for the other to digest. You may even meet resistance but what is a little resistance for those trying to reach the truth of a thing, even more so when it hurts?

 

Truth hurts. Truth defines as steel sharpens steel and this is the point where the great conversation begins; in truth.

 

Truth is never easy and easy is the lie. Is anything worth knowing in your life easy and if it were, would you respect it? We all agree that work is hard and working at the truth is not an easy task either. Sometimes it means the severing of relationships if even for a brief moment until the reparation. And thank God for that reparation otherwise we might not be able to go on.

 

Faith then, truth- what you believe- have been taught, and ascribe to. Different from me I suppose with an educated guess and that makes us less opposed than you might think.

 

For we have the one thing in common that the common man knows nothing about. We have a system of belief that makes sense of this world that has become senseless. We have the extra-added knowledge of salvation that many do not. And we exploit it, this power, invoke it like the gods of old and we have come to rely upon it like Jesus himself in the desert for forty days as he invoked the power of his father. We have the Holy Spirit, you and I. And it is enough for us.

 

It matters little if no one understands you when it comes to this faith. I understand myself half the time it takes to misunderstand others, but no matter. I exist. I have the faith it takes to wake up and face the day. And without that faith I may never wake up. So I win either way. I just happen to choose to wake up and that, in my opinion, is an act of faith. You can sleep when you’re dead, but not yet- not yet.

 

 

There is only one God, Father All-Mighty, one Author of a great and noble truth and we his children are caught between camps, leaning this way and that. Were there but one faith! One creed, one apostolic mission. If there were such a thing then that ominous world would slip away and be re-created in the image of its Father. And that is the goal of the apologia. To start that conversation, ask the hard questions and dialogue on the truth of things. If we stop, then we are gasping our last.

 

And I for one am not ready to give in.

 

Of Great Minds (and then the rest of us)

                                               Of Great Minds (and then the rest of us.)

 

 

There is a book, and then there is a book worth reading.

James V. Schall penned such a book, “Another Sort of Learning,” and in it quotes from another infamous author (in short circles) the following thoughts:

“ Teachers themselves are pupils and must be pupils…but there must be teachers who are not pupils less we have an infinite regress.”

 

What has been spoken here is of infinite worth to the initiated, yet nonsense to the non. To explain then the thoughts of Mr. Schall and Mr. Strauss it is (I think,) necessary to explain the Great Books in all their grandeur since the Great Books is what I would like to discuss.

 

A grand conversation spanning centuries of thought in fifty-eight volumes no less, a lifetime of reading, with pleasure, those minds that shaped our Western culture. Of course, not all of us have the time, yet, surprisingly we might- given enough incentive. So pull up a chair and pour a glass of wine and let me entertain your particular conscience with what I consider along with the publishers of such a grand work, to be the thoughts of mankind that shaped nations not the least of which is ours.

 

It begins with a little known notion of freedom. Freedom to express oneself without reprisal. Freedom from coercion and this nonsense of the politically correct. Freedom, as it is known in a true society is one free from constraint, no matter what he profess. As long as the common good is not harmed. But the Great Books have a way of hampering that notion with the added caveat that to know the truth will set you free. See Socrates in Plato’s Republic and in the apology to Crito, both part of the series mentioned.

 

Here we allow ourselves to be fully human, to experience the Divine while living short of the glory of the professed. We get the sense that those who have gone before retain what they saw and share that with the world at large. We are now in the company of giants, both great and small. What is the best way to see the world? It is to ride on the shoulders of giants. There you see what might have been missed due to your stature. It is a way to see through to the truth of things. It is knowledge that ultimately brings truth to bear upon life.

 

In knowledge we find strength. Yet it is curious that (according to professor Schall,) the two greatest teachers, Christ and Socrates, wrote no books at all. They were written about but never wrote. Words that is, yet their knowledge was writ large against the backdrop of the world to come and the world that is, now, ever present- ever new. Such is the humble beginnings of the Great Books.

 

 A world ever changing and ever new but so steeped in the traditions that we hold dear as to never gain the privilege of being antiquated to the realm of knowledge once known but ever so unwanted. It is knowledge sought that makes us knowing beings, and the Great Books do just that, teach- and admonish to a degree that you no longer need one to understand them.

 

 These are great times. They need great books. Like Christ himself and Socrates, will you help write one by being part of the great conversation? Or will you stand by, professing a faith but unwilling to put your life on the line for the truth. Start where you will but start the conversation nonetheless. It is imperative.

on the Art of Insanty and the Sanity of Art

                                 On the art of Insanity and the sanity of Art

 

 

It should be written on the pages of every textbook that the art of sanity appears between the pages of your very ordinary textbook, that the creative reason behind those words succumbs to the visceral and is known beyond the realm of reason. In fact then, at that point, sanity reigns.

 

For should it ever be known that the factors that play into this life become the reason that reason doubts, lest it be called insane. We as knowing beings profess that in this case, fairy tales do exist.

 

And why? For the very fact that unicorns are so much more a point of our conscience than congress. For the fact that elves peopled the land long before the senate holds a truer state of being than do those judges that make them seem trivial. For the fact that fairies hold much more sway in our hearts than do officials with their everyday facts and opinions -for the very fact that facts exist, but not to everyone in the same way. Herein lies the question as it is; based upon the facts.

The fact is, unicorns and faeries do exist, if only in the minds eye and yet without them, we cannot exist, as people in need of some repose. To deny either is paramount to denying ourselves and to deny you is tantamount to capitulating into insanity.

 

It is not the belief in unicorns and fairies that make one insane, it is the belief that such a thing is impossible that makes us unbelievers. And there lay the true and ingenious deception that got us here in the first place. It is the denial of reason that damns us to repeat it. Reasonable people believe in miracles, have a heart for the fairytale and relinquish control of the absurd to those whose job it is to create it. Just think of your last watched movie like it or not.

 

But it seems the land of the fairies and the unicorn is under attack and driven to the realm of the unrealistic and the unreal. Poppycock says he. What safer place to be than in the imaginative land of the aforementioned? What better place than to be on the inside track to what makes us better human beings than seeing all this played out against the backdrop of the imagined?

 

There it is then; the imagined. That such a thing could exist makes this world a bit more bearable than that which we can live without. That this world needs a little imagination speaks volumes of what it is living without. And the living without is what some want to see happen.

 

Do not let them take it; this insane thing named sanity- let them succumb instead of you. Continue to read and write as you see fit, the fairy-tale, the odd dialogue, and the conversation of the sublime. But never let them see you sweat as in blood and tears you ascribe to the higher order of the fairies, the unicorn, and the three pigs that stole their own homes.

In short you should never, never, give in.

 

 

 

 

In the Peace of a Narrow Garden

                                            In The Peace of a Narrow Garden

 

 

“They would have done better, according to their own narrow standards, to have shortened the arm of their ambitions and to have dwelt, like Lucretius or Spinoza, in the peace of a narrow garden.”

 

That, as page 43 of Avery Dulles’s “Testimony To Grace” concedes, is the dying wish of those conceived and nurtured by wealth and wealth alone as an only grace. You may disagree with him and ultimately with those who might agree with him, yet, perhaps the world at large would disagree with you should we ever choose to argue that course.

 

Well then- let’s argue the course. What Dulles is fighting is what every serious Christian has been fighting since the Enlightenment. Boredom. Infantile extremism run rampant in business, in art and letters, which by the way, led directly to the advent of the internet, the sound bite and the demise of papers that provide a great sounding board for things like (again,) letters. Think of those to the Editor and what a fun job they must have had!

 

What we are discussing is the lost art of wonder or better yet, the perception of what is real. We might (and we do) believe that what is spoken about in the press, the media and the Internet must be true for the very fact that we want to believe in the humanity of people. But again I quote,

” They would have done better, according to their own narrow standards, to have shortened the arm of their ambitions…” 

 

Why, because ambition has a way of turning things into itself, for itself and by itself without a thought to the true and to the good. The alluring thoughts of Mr. Dulles have a stance that is steeped in the Platonic thought of eons of dealing with the real. He has pointed to that which others before him have actually died for to give us humanity. He is truly a realist. And as a realist he recognizes that there is not one thing you can give, but that we must all give all. The Portrait of the Artist as a young man has no value if that young man has no value. It becomes simply a book, one of thousands to choose from. The entire collection of the Louvre is a waste of paint should it seek to inspire you with commercial endeavors designed to commemorate your experience.

 

Waste your money on those things that last. Shower the people in your life with riches. Grow with them. Life is supposed to be an adventure but the best ventures are those started closest to home. In the end, all we need to do is be there for them.

 

But I must digress here and for no other reason than that I must. I don’t want you to miss the point. The things we do must be done for the higher purpose, whatever that may be. It cannot be done to make you feel better sleeping this night or an attempt to make your accountant feel better in the morning should you find the next great write off. No. It must be for the good of the person given to. As has been said, when opening the door, you may be entertaining angels, so be on guard. That person asking has as much right to the goods of this world as you have been given.

 

So give them. As much and as often as it hurts. At the least you will never run the risk of losing the perfect peace of the narrow garden. Who knows, in the end, it may not be as small as you imagined.

Faith is not for the Weak

                                               Faith is Not For The Weak

 

 

I know that Avery Dulles was quoted in my last post but it bears repeating the same man of faith for that which I would like to speak about now. So I quote- “ Christ, as He appeared in the scriptures, was not primarily a moralist. For conduct as such he cared very little; love and faith he cherished beyond measure.”

This is liberating news to some, scandal at best for others and sure to cause a storm should the truth ever be known to the moralists among us. But what does this mean?

 

Well, it does not mean that Christ never preached on the moral life, that we are free to decide for ourselves the rights and wrongs of the life we live. Obviously not, for there are those things called the Ten Commandments to balance each and every one us against and every one of them holds a message to be adhered too. Yet consider this. When asked which of the commandments was the greatest, Christ answered that we should love the Lord our God with all our strength and our neighbor as himself.

Not, it should be noted, the other nine. Why? Because if you follow the first, the others just sort of fall into line. If you love God and your neighbor, you will not sleep with his wife. If you love your neighbor, you won’t steal from him or slander his name in public, or bare false witness against him. If you stop the moralist tendency to avoid sin and just love God through your neighbor, you won’t break the other nine commandments- simple fare for a simple man.

Give me the best of those commands then, let me run with them and prove I love God through my neighbor and his best interest, but do not let me count every sin and foible I have to prove to God how much I love Him. It would never be proven. God alone knows how much we love Him and we only know that he does through the way that we keep that one command.

So what then for the moralist? To dot every I and cross every T is to lose the true meaning of the cross for all that it is worth. To reduce the cross to a sentimental belief alone is to denude the very essence of Christianity. It is to reduce our Lord to the realm of sanctimonious belief. Here then is reality versus pretense; you must die.

 It is essential a fact as the air you breathe; you, and I, must die. But the really perverse thing that most of us will never grasp, is the fact that we start dying the day we are born. And to continue the conundrum is the fact that we never start living until we begin to die. To ourselves, to our very self, to those around us in the face of apology, in the admittance of wrongdoing. My God is writ large against the backdrop of pride and I for one should like to be mistaken for one who cares. I should very much like to be mistaken for one of those that can recognize their fault and come home anyway. I, would like to be, a saint.

Far be it from me to attempt such a thing but consider this if you will. It is not I that calls out to be a saint; it is the living God that calls forth upon all his saints to become that which we should ascribe to be. You got it; saints. So the call becomes divine, the call becomes the question and the question is, will we become the saints God intended us to be? Or will you continue to cross the t and dot the I? The cross itself should suffice for each and every one of us. It is up to us to progress in sanctity, vilify the world and hope to eternal life.

It is up to us to live the command.

On the Ever Changing Notion of the Ever Changing

                              On the Ever Changing Notion of the Ever Changing.

 

 

We can admit to certain crimes but certainly not all of them; or so we think.

I admit them all the time whether I meant too or not. To some who may not even understand.

 

As a catholic I tell my priest each week the nature and volume of my sins in the confessional. But I tell all those whom I meet everyday the exact nature of my wrongs. The why of it is in the how.

 

The how of it lies just below the surface and the depth of its weight will not be kept down. The depth is part of the great misunderstanding which connects us whenever we meet and I am less than human for however brief our appointment. What I mean is, my bad day should not become yours.

 

Now, being fully human, I make mistakes, as I am sure you can relate to for only humans make mistakes and animals do not envy this aspect of our nature. Yet the greatest mistakes we make are not found in the confessional but rather on the streets, in the town, even (gasp) at Wal-Mart.

 

When in a hurry we push past our human family, cut through lines or even curse their very existence. No. The greatest sins are those of impatience. For our fellow man yes, but even more so with us. Do you know how long it took Paul to become a saint? A lifetime. But he did it each and every day and each and every day I am positive he said something like “Lord, I do believe, please help my unbelief.”

 

Belief takes courage, belief in yourself takes humility and humility takes knowledge. Knowledge of just how far we have to go, humility to know that we aren’t quite there and courage to confess to one another our multitudinous sins.

 

That last part is the everyday criterion that this segment is all about. I would like to say that we are beyond this yet everyday I confront myself and recognize how far from the mark I really am and I have to wonder at the rest of the world. Are they far from the mark, do they really see beyond and over to the one thing necessary to redeem us from the constancy of that which we really are? In a word, is there hope? I think so. And I pray you think the same. Really, pray.

 

For peace in your life and if you do, the prince of peace prays that you have peace with those around you.

 

 

There are no confessionals that I know of in the marketplace and maybe you don’t quite need one. But everyday we draw a little closer to the Christ Child each and every time we speak that peace that eludes us so very often. Speak peace, and speak volumes.

 

The Scarlet Thing in You

                                                     The Scarlet Thing in You

 

 

Hawthorne should be read in every middle school in any of the United States and for a reason that many of us do not seem to be reasonable. Tolerance. Not that notion that whatever you believe is valid to me -emphatically not. Nor the notion that whatever you or I say must be accepted by the other in a sort of clandestine dance to make each other feel good about ourselves. Certainly not.

 

True tolerance is the belief that what you say has meaning, (no matter that it be wrong) and only because you say it. It is up to me then to agree or not, and if not, then tolerance dictates that you must accept the rebuttal, (whether right or wrong). All is fair in love and war we say- except many do not see it this way.

 

Tolerance has accepted a new genius, one that has replaced the old genius with a subtle twist. The new genius would have you accept that the point it makes is valid only because it was spoken. The old genius would have you explain it to the point of breaking the absurd against the bedrock of the tried and true. In either case that new genius dictates that what you speak had better be well spoken lest you lose constituents on either side of the age-old fence.

 

And so we mark the time between elections with scarlet letters. Pointing fingers, drawing first blood…competition. It should be called insanity. As insane as the Scarlet Letter was back in it’s day. The audacity of a dialogue between the sinner and the supposed saints, (God forbid!) I shall name this, call it to task, and redeem it.

 

I will call it freedom, the freedom to make mistakes without shame. As I do, as you do as well.

 

After all, we are all called to a higher notion, one that does not split hairs but that exceeds our expectations in love. One who tolerates our idiosyncrasies? And this we know to be God.

 

And he does not place letters on anyone’s sweater for the very reason same reason that he does not condemn. Out of love- and the knowledge that the very same person condemned for all mankind wore those letters for us all. Those letters now have meaning, they are made of blood and we hold onto them as the need fits. Until we deem them useless and then we give them over.

 

Enough letters then and we should have an alphabet, a spoken language and books; enough then to begin the great dialogue with our creator.

 

But in this new age we are unable to accept the old as more or less and unless we deem the useless more and more useless the same as the shoe must fit, we must wear it. Simply put, there is no longer a dialogue; left… or right. Just letters.

 

 

It is our choice to speak. But it is duty alone that listens.

 

The Truth of the Matter

                                              The Truth of the Matter is…

 

 

It is an alien word, truth. We use it in every sentence without really understanding its meaning. We speak the truth and even walk it like a pet in every action we pursue. We want it in every interaction between the world and us yet we rarely ever live it. This is normal though, as far as living breathing human beings go, we simply take it for granted that the truth will be told us every time we swipe the card or write the check. It is not even an afterthought as we purchase our way through life. But the paper trail tells another story if we have the courage to trace it and see that the underlying current leads to the largest of lies, truth be told.

 

In a roundabout way I hope to uncover some of the motives behind the buying and selling of goods. Now, some goods are necessary and some are not. Those that are necessary help and develop our fallen human nature…food, clothing, and a present for a friend. But others it must be agreed upon are superfluous and need not exist- fashion, high heeled shoes, Niemen Marcus in general. With every retailer vying for your attention, it is hard to stay your course, live within your means, yet within every transaction there stands the son of man believe it or not.

 

And he asks you to spend well. In fact he commands you to work for the fruit that lasts. You may call it the product of limited experience, but seems to me that last years fashion is bound for the thrift store as soon as this year’s fashion can replace it. What worth is that expense to you now?

 

But consider this. A can of food triples in size when the whole church is involved. Meat feeds thousands when thousands give even just a little bit back. For the many blessings we receive we should give back a hundredfold. Trust me, we need not give the farm, just your part. Many parts make a whole as has been written, but without you we are lost. There is a food pantry at your church for a reason and that reason is hungry, in more ways than one. Every time we feed the hungry the hungry are feeding upon us, looking for the truth, searching for reason, reason enough for us to feed them the very body and blood of Jesus himself. When all organs in the body of Christ work together then the world can be transformed. Will we do it though, that is the question. Will we forgo the perfect gift for the ultimate gift- will we trade in those high heels for the want of a brother in Christ?

 

It is our choice to do with our money and time what we want, but the want of another is the choice that is laid upon us. It is the truth of Christmas that it truly is a gift, and one worth receiving.

A Decision of the Will

                                           A Decision of the Will

 

 

Upon embarking on the spiritual life it must be warned that you may encounter certain books people or places that evoke something curious in us. Things never before considered or at least considered sane, things of vision or maybe of visionaries none of which we happen to be- or so we say. But nonetheless, they and we exist. And we are forced to face the facts about ourselves and relinquish control to theses strange entities that call us forth to the fate that only they seem to know- things that involve a decision.

 

 I for one would wish them to stop and leave me awhile in complete ignorance but only so long as it takes me to miss them once that muse is gone. Sigh. Again I feel obligated to listen and pick up the book, visit the place or speak to the person that got me into this whole mess in the first place.

 

It must be acknowledged that when following these particular entities that a little bit of discernment goes a long way towards curing a whole bunch of scruples. This is the job of your pastor, best friend or guide. Whomever you pick, let this be said in regard to that choice.

 They have to have the mind of God in mind. Tall order I know yet happily enough you can be assured that God in his infinite wisdom will push us along.

 

You see the trick is remembering that we are all part of God’s family and even though the first choice may not be the last choice, starting somewhere is better than nowhere. God smiles when we make decisions, even wrong ones in the end. That seems a little strange but bear this thought in mind. Making the wrong decision may lead us to humility, humility leads to trust, and trust leads to the Lord.

 

Prudence takes the high road here. God does not want us to make rash decisions. We must pray over them, seek counsel and the decision itself must be for our good and/or the good of others. That is only fitting. But, once we have come to a decision the proper step is to make it. Final. Jesus is certainly not agnostic and he never sat on the fence either. We may not spend forty days in the desert fasting in preparation for the purchase of a larger home, but forty minutes spent in prayer about it has hurt no-one as far as I recall.

 

In the end you will choose the right path, you will receive an answer. Maybe not the one you wanted but rest assured it will be to your benefit. God writes straight with crooked lines as they say so don’t be afraid. Let that book that place or that person have a say in what you do. As long as we do it in the Lord, all is a blessing… even when we’re wrong.