The Good Stuff

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
– Philippians 4:8

Spending time two weeks ago with my friend Fr. Kauth down in North Carolina was pure grace. It was a blessing to meet the young people and to wander through the mountains with them, to pray a little, laugh a lot, ponder some deep thoughts, and at the end of the day, to slide under the tree branches that set apart the rectory garage (the Bat Cave, as Father affectionately calls it) and just BE with an old friend.

We cooked up a delicious dinner, talked about the paths our lives have taken, and dove into the topics we love: faith and culture, good books, philosophy and theology… the things that have always wheeled us around the Son in a gravitational pull since the seminary days we shared 13 years ago.

Funny how distance or time or the thousand splintered fragments of life’s crosses never seemed to throw us off of that orbit. When I wonder how it could be, the only answer that comes is Grace. What else? The years of 1993 to 1996 at St. Charles Borromeo Seminary were like a golden age, and the oddest thing is, we knew it. Sure, there was work and study and much discernment regarding a call that for Fr. Matt continued on to ordination, and for me moved on to the vocation of marriage. But in those three years, the young men who were called together at that precise moment in time had a strong sense of synchronicity, of a Guiding Hand that was shaping our hearts and minds for tasks to numerable to imagine. Even now as I look at my classmates, those ordained and those who left early and discovered another call, the tasks spill out in tiny rivulets like incense from a golden thurible, filling the world with that fragrance of the Eternal that caught and captivated us.

Somehow we few, we happy few were given a glimpse into the Eucharistic Heart of the Hidden God, the God Who loves to play hide and seek with His children. And that Hidden God captured us, heart, mind, and soul.

I remember one morning, on a walk through misty shadows, I made my way to the Chapel for morning prayer. I was part of the “Vampire Club” as we called ourselves (Picture the Dead Poet’s Society with cassocks and prayer books. We would find our dark corners of chapel and make our holy hour before the red glow of the sanctuary lamp). I found the now Fr. Matthew walking the same way in that pre-dawn darkness, but as we turned towards St. Martin’s, a pale rosy glow in the east caught our eyes. Wordless, we both headed for a massive elm tree and stood beneath it’s dark boughs. For what felt like a few minutes, we stood “like sentinels awaiting the dawn” – and it came. Pouring out fire over the green fields, stirring the birds into song and the bells eventually to peel and crack the air with a call to celebrate another Day.

It was contemplation; a deep gaze into the heart of things, a letting go to the pull of Beauty, the irresistible attraction to wonder that to this day takes only a few words to reactivate and rekindle. I praise God for friendships like this, for kindred spirits.

When we turned away from the sunrise to head into chapel, we discovered that nearly an hour went by, and the chapel before us was now bathed in light! Isn’t that what Grace so often does? Light up what lies ahead of us as well as what lies behind?

A glass of wine with some friends
Talking to the wee hours of the dawn
Sit back and relax your mind
This must be, this must be, what it’s all about
This must be what paradise is like
Baby it’s so quiet in here…
– Van Morrison

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Inspiration for the New Evangelization
http://www.missionmoment.org

Sun and Shade

When I was a kid, we used to play a game called “Sun and Shade.” It was only possible on those extraordinary summer days when school was out, the clouds were high, and the wind was strong.

The game consisted of a race from a shady patch in the neighborhood (point A) to another shady patch (point B) up the hill. You could move anywhere, run in any direction, as long as your feet were touching shade. Under trees, shrubs, the shadow of a mailbox, a car, a trash can…. all were like stepping stones on the way to the coveted Goal. If you ever stepped into the Light, you were “fried,” and back to the Starting Place you ran.

My favorite part of the game was when a massive bank of cloud would race across the face of the sun, and a half dozen kids would bolt like mad up the hill before the shade fell over us again; screaming, arms flailing, laughing, leaping up to land at the last second into the shady patch of a tree when the sun came out again. Ah, youth!

Let’s Get Spiritual

Now if you are like me, you wouldn’t mind a little experience of the Divine once in a while (or how about every second?) as we make our Monday to Friday runs from the Shade into the Sun of a weekend. By experience of the Divine, I mean a glimmer of eternity in time, a sense of peace even in the midst of tragedy, or a strong dose of Warm Love, the kind Van the Man sings about:

Look at the ivy on that old clinging wall. Look at the flowers and the green grass so tall. It’s not a matter of when push comes to shove. It’s just an hour on the wings of a dove… Its just warm love… And its ever present everywhere… That warm love.
– Van Morrison

Now mind you, I’m not talking about gooey “religious feelings” – it’s a heightened awareness of the Sacrament of the Present Moment. In the old spiritual classic of Brother Lawrence, it’s the Practice of the Presence of God. For us kids growing up on ‘ole Jefferson Street, even the Sun and Shade invited us into the Dance, into the vision that the Universe was made superfluously, for us, for FUN. It’s meant to be as transparent as stained glass. That’s the definition of a sacrament. A visible sign that houses a spiritual reality. Maybe that’s why the saints were so crazy, so happy, even in the Shade of Suffering; the cold darkness seemingly devoid of the Sun. They praised even there, oftentimes especially there! They knew, in the immortal words of that little redhead Annie, that the Sun “would come out tomorrow” – or at least eventually…

So look at the ivy on that old clinging wall, look at the flowers and the green grass so tall. Look at the suffering with its power to shape. It’s all Warm Love… and it’s ever present everywhere.

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Inspiration for the New Evangelization
http://www.missionmoment.org

Don’t Look Back…..

I first caught this on television about 16 years ago. There was a special on Van Morrison and he was singing with some of the all time musical greats. This scene always moved me. (Thanks YouTube! With all of the garbage, there comes an occasional treasure like this!). Listen to the tapping of Van’s foot on the wide wooden boards of a dock on a lake somewhere in Louisiana. This is pure music; unplugged and slow-cooked, and NOT in a hurry. It reaches a crescendo when Van belts out his verses. Watch his intensity and reverent admiration for the Man of the Blues, John Lee Hooker. It’s starts off low, and raises the volume. Enjoy the super close ups of these traditionally self-conscious and shy performers. Priceless!

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Inspiration for the New Evangelization
http://www.missionmoment.org

Into the Mystic

I’ll always remember the moment when I first became a Van Morrison fan. I was maybe 19 years old, home from college and flipping through the channels when a movie called “Immediate Family” came on. I don’t know anything about the film (I just looked it up a moment ago to be sure of the title). What struck me was the song playing during a powerful mother/daughter/healing scene. The song was Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic.”

There was something magnetic and mystical in that song that made me stop my surfing in mid-click. Maybe it was the slow and steady ryhthm of the guitar, or the line “Hark, now hear the sailors cry, smell the sea and feel the sky.” It could’ve even been the spaces between the words and the music that opened me up to sweet contemplation. Isn’t it always the silence, the rest within the notes that moves us most? Whatever it was, it sent me on a journey to the music store, to pick up the Moondance album and a host of Van’s other works since then.

“And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home. And when the fog horn blows, I want to hear it. I don’t have to fear it.”

Into the Mystic led me into the Mystery! The sense of wonder that song stirred up in me was an invitation to ask the deeper questions. It’s the sense of wonder and mystery that the modern heart, I believe, longs for more than any material possession or position of power. We want always that open door, that path before us that leads to the More that we are made for. The one who no longer thirsts for answers drowns in his own Narcissian pool.

Getting answers is great, don’t get me wrong; it sets us on the path to begin the walk. But those unanswered questions, those mysteries, are what keep us moving, searching, and seeking. Boy did it take me forever to learn that lesson; that life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived.

In last Sunday’s gospel, John the Baptist drew people out into the desert. They brought their questions, their ponderings and wonderings. They wanted answers to life’s deepest questions. And John gave them solid answers. “What should we do?” He said to them in reply, “Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none. And whoever has food should do likewise.” Even tax collectors came to be baptized and they said to him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He answered them, “Stop collecting more than what is prescribed.” Soldiers also asked him, “And what is it that we should do?” He told them, “Do not practice extortion, do not falsely accuse anyone, and be satisfied with your wages.”

John was short and to the point when it came to those nitty gritty questions. But he openly admitted that he was only paving the way for Something Deeper; his water would yield to fire, his mediation would turn over to the mystical. Enter Jesus.

Jesus doesn’t always give us the straight answer. In fact, He rarely does this. In contrast to John, when questions come, Jesus simply invites us into them. “Consider this parable…” He says to the questioner. “Follow me…” He invites the inquisitive.

When two disciples of John’s followed Jesus, he turned and said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi, where are you staying?” He said to them,”Come, and you will see.”

“Hark, now hear the sailors cry, smell the sea and feel the sky…. Let your soul and spirit fly into the Mystic.”

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Inspiration for the New Evangelization
http://www.missionmoment.org