Image

Resurrecting Chicago

Trusting in Him with each step.

Pope Francis meets Vladimir Putin at the Vatican: Round One or, Welcome to the Colosseum.

/ / Leave a comment
When Vladimir Putin met Pope Francis this week at the Vatican, it was not the lion meeting the lamb.  Pope Francis exhibits a simple life style and aligns himself with the poor, but he is far from a pushover. 

In September of this year Pope Francis sent an official letter to Putin who was hosting the G20 conference in St. Petersburg.  In strong terms Pope Francis insisted that Putin use the Russian Federation’s  position as an ally of Syria to help end the hostilities of the Syrian government against its own people.

Putin can only be using this meeting with Pope Francis to leverage his standing among world leaders. He was recently listed as the most influential man in the world. Pope Francis is number four–a power to be reckoned with.  These are two heavyweights sparring on the world’s stage.

Pope Francis wants an end to the suffering of the Syrian people and he wants protection guarantees for Christians throughout the Middle East.  He also wants help in securing more acceptance for the Catholic Church in the Russian Federation, a land which up until recently the Orthodox Church considered its own pasture: No Roman Catholic sheep stealing allowed!

Vladimir Putin presented an icon of Our Lady to Pope Francis, but first he reverenced the image with a kiss. That gesture will not be forgotten as the former head of the KGB bows to a greater power.  Was it a sincere sign of hope or a cleverly staged diversion to capture the attention of Pope Francis, if but for a moment?
Putin did not invite Pope Francis to Russia for a visit. I doubt whether this is a snub.  Rather, it seems to me Putin is laying the groundwork for a possible papal visit later on.  I’m not certain that Pope Francis would accept the invitation until Putin begins to act more humanely from his exalted position of influence.
Two Lions circle one another in the ring this week, one a vigorous warrior and the other, an experienced competitor. Let’s see who roars loudest.

 

.

.

 

Show me a Path, Lord, even in Dubuque, Iowa.

/ / Leave a comment
It was a difficult day, overcast, rainy, windy and chilly. Good day to stay in, right? I suppose so but I’m here in Dubuque, Iowa for some R & R, which for me means reading a good book and rambling down a country path.

I drove for miles.  The blustery winds had calmed and the rain had stopped. There was no excuse.  I had to find a path before it would begin to rain again. Where’s my path?

I found the local parks closed “for the season” including the botanical garden and Eagle View Park.  I kept driving around for more than an hour thinking: There has got to be a park with a path somewhere in Dubuque that is still open. (Why would you close a public path, anyway?)

For me, walking is a physical and spiritual necessity, not a pastime.  I’m going somewhere and I am praying, too, when I walk.  So, not to find a walking path is frustrating on both accounts.

My fundamental prayer these days is something like: “Show me the path that you want me to walk.” As long as I can discern some direction to my life, I’m O.K.  I expect Our Lord to answer my prayer with signs along my life’s path. He always has.

Spiritually I’ve lost my way many times. Then I pray: Where should I go?  What should I do? How shall I handle this issue?  Do you want me to say something specific to help this individual, or is silence better?  Let me know, Lord.

Most often I have to wait…wait for the signs. When I can see that I am fitting in somehow or being able to help in some way, that’s all the direction I need.

Here are the signs which Our Lord shows me from time to time: Stop! Slow Down! Turn Here! Pull over! Go on Green Light!  Steep road ahead!  Caution! Have a nice day!

You get the idea.

I was one mile from my hotel and I had given up on walking today.  But, then I noticed that parallel to my four lane highway was a bike path that appeared to go on and on.  I pulled over into a strip-mall parking lot  and spent an hour walking up and down hills with traffic a hundred feet away.

One friendly bicyclist passed me going in the opposite direction.  He knew where he was going and he was getting there fast. He was the only other person on the path. It was overcast and cold but I was warm and peaceful as I walked, grateful for not missing the path that was right in front of me.

 Our Lord’s signs are clear, though you have to keep looking. Don’t give up!  Watch for the right path and when you find it, take it.

How to Survive Satanic Attack and Common Distractions in Quiet Prayer.

/ / Leave a comment
Quiet prayer or meditation is not always easy.  Distractions, temptations, day-dreams and all kinds of goofy ideas can intrude into the prayer life of even the most earnest Catholic.  I meet these good people when they pour out their hearts about their prayer lives in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

“I feel I am being attacked by the devil, Father. I see too much evil in people and I despair because of my fears.  I never feel that God is near to me.  Worse, I think that God is going to let me fall because my sins deserve eternal punishment. This is what I get, Father, for having tolerated evil in my life and even, at times, having embraced sin.
That’s not all.  I feel trapped by the effects of my sins.  I’m not able to get up from my sins and am constantly bothered by temptations.”
No one has confessed to me in those exact words but over the years I have heard this lament about interior prayer many times.  The sinner is tortured by a kind of anxiety and depression which makes it hard for him (It could be a her) to experience God’s love and His grace.
The penitent has come to the sacrament of Reconciliation out of desperation and like an intensive care patient in severe pain, the penitent wants relief, otherwise he wouldn’t be in the confessional.
I think of this encounter with a sick soul (as the philosopher William James would have called him) as an opportunity to give him an injection of spiritual medicine and an I.V. hydration for his soul.
I take control of the situation with strong medicine because it is my job to do that.  I remind the penitent that the Sacrament of Reconciliation is a powerful moment of grace, an opportunity for healing. I encourage the penitent to listen to the absolution and open his heart to the healing movement of the Holy Spirit. 
It’s not me  but Our Lord who cures in the wonderful sacrament of healing.  While I am praying the words of absolution, I am  also praying to get out of God’s way and let His healing waters bring cleansing and refreshment to this soul.

Again, a second type of made-up penitent:  This time, the penitent  says something like this: “I pray, Father, but can’t seem to get anywhere in my prayer life.  Strong temptations upset my efforts at prayer.  I fight them but they just won’t leave me.”

This penitent is like a guy standing on a ladder, painting the ceiling of a kitchen.  He  gets frightened by a tiny spider, loses his concentration and falls. He survives with a scratch on his leg, but is otherwise O.K.  He is still afraid of spiders so he’s going to inspect the ceiling carefully before he goes up the ladder again. He’s determined not to lose focus and fall a second time.

Most distractions in prayer, whether temptations or not, cause us to lose focus in our prayers.  We are supposed to be praying, gently moving our hearts and minds to the Lord.

St. Albert the Great counsels us to just brush away these kinds of distractions as if they are house-flies dancing before our eyes.   We don’t have to get out the artillery when all we need is a fly-swatter. Don’t fight with yourself to get back to the presence of God.  Acknowledge the nature of the distraction and gently bring your heart back to prayer.”
Most people are relieved to learn that even the saints were often distracted in their prayer lives.  The saints remind us that Our Lord simply wants us to be faithful and take time to pray — often.  If horrifying temptations attack, meet them with courage and the grace of the sacraments.
When common distractions come, gently move your heart and mind back to God.

The NRA, Remington and Designer Gunwear.

/ / Leave a comment
Remington, the gun manufacturer, announced today it is coming out with a concealed carry line of  clothes. The company will lend their name to “gun jackets” and a “Double Derringer” line of vests. (Reuters, Nov. 3, 2013)

Greed is good, right? Why not make more money off the gun fad? So what if gun manufacturers sell designer clothes to gun-toters to make them feel even more important?

Handguns kill people. That’s what they are designed to do and they do it very well. They are also expensive and make immense amounts of money for gun manufacturers. Now, the manufacturers want even more.

I’m against pointing a loaded handgun at someone and pulling the trigger. I would ban concealed-carry weapons in an instant. I would ban assault rifles of all kinds for the same reason: These weapons are for hunting humans. I don’t care about gun manufacturers and their profits.

This is not to say that I am against possession of firearms.  I think hunting with a rifle or shotgun is an acceptable way to harvest deer, turkey and other wildlife. At least, hunting game provides food for our tables and encourages sportsmanship as an outlet.

I believe, too, that  the Second Amendment supports defense of our freedoms by empowering militias and that the amendment was never intended to support individual hand-gun ownership.

Twice I have had handguns pulled on me.  One was by a drunk who showed me a blunt nose revolver which he kept in a handkerchief in his front pocket. The other guy wanted to impress me by the size of the hand gun which he pulled out of a holster which was under his vest.

I showed the door to the drunk. I simply walked away from guy number two. And, in neither instance was I brave. I am not a courageous person. I was just so disgusted that I wanted to distance myself from them as quickly as I could.

I have listened to conversations between handgun enthusiasts who laugh when describing how
important they feel as Americans when they carry their guns and intimidate others. Apparently, they think the rest of us are wimps compared to guys with guns. Those men inspired fear in me not because of their guns but because they were so casual about “carrying.”

The National Rifle Association is run by gun manufacturers.  It wants every American to buy a gun and to carry a gun, as if all gun-toters are mature, responsible people. I know enough about good people to know that sometimes they are bad, real bad. Or, are we all supposed to think that all those who carry concealed weapons are good people who would never use an available gun to do anything bad — the real Americans who own Remingtons?

I’m a Christian but not a pacifist. I can imagine taking arms against someone in self defense or in defense of my family. But, I want the NRA to stop acting as a surrogate for gun manufacturers. I will defend myself as I see fit.

Greed is one of the seven deadly sins.  The others are pride, anger, lust, envy,
gluttony and sloth. I think you’ll find all seven wrapped up in the soul of a violent, hand-gun-toting America.

 

Yellow-Billed Cuckoo Plays the Missouri Ozarks.

/ / Leave a comment
 A completely unique and unfamiliar bird song struck me on a Spring day as I walked through a dense cove on a narrow trail in the Missouri Ozarks. The vocalization sounded like a harsh series of misplayed piano notes, unique and odd, I thought.

I followed the sounds and there it was: Perched on a branch about fifteen feet from the ground was a yellow-billed cuckoo. The tail feathers were long in relation to the sleek body, dark above and white below. The tail feathers had a pattern of white circles which reminded me of the spread feathers of a male peacock.  Yes, the bill was yellow from below. Thank God for my Field Guide to Eastern Birds.
The yellow-billed cuckoo (Coccycus  americana) is not a bird that you’ll see everyday. In fact, I’ve never seen or heard another since my Missouri Cuckoo experience.  To be honest, I did not know that cuckoos were found in the U.S.

I remembered cuckoo clocks and, of course, thought of the hand-carved  Black Forest cuckoo clock which hung in my mother’s front room, usually silent until someone remembered to set the weights correctly. The cuckoo sounds from the clocks of the same name, are supposed to mimic the song of “the common cuckoo,”Cuculus canorus, a separate genus of cuckoo found throughout Europe.

How often have you heard something like “That’s cuckoo!” or “What a kook!” Both statements refer to the goofy little bird which, on the hour, pokes out of a clock and flaps its wings while singing, “cu–cu, cu –cu,” something like the actual call of the common cuckoo found in Europe.

The name “cuckoo” has become an adjective meaning silly. However, when I hear the word, “cuckoo,”  I remember that combination of rattles and moans which led me off the beaten path to the tree with the live cuckoo.

I wonder how many Americans have any idea that cuckoos are found in North America.  The Yellow-Billed Cuckoo is just one of the three species of cuckoo which breed  mostly in the Southern part of the united States. They winter in South America, especially in Argentina.

Check out the Cornell Lab of Ornithology for a great image and a sound clip of the vocalization of the Yellow-Billed Cuckoo.

 

Alternative Halloween: "El Dia de los Muertos," "The Day of the Dead."

/ / Leave a comment

For a completely different observance of the season of death and dying, try the approach of Mexicans who each year observe, “ El Dia de los Muertos,” the “Day of the Dead” on  November 2, All Souls Day.
Although some Mexican communities have started to have a kind of Halloween on Oct. 31, Halloween has no cultural roots in Mexico. It is an artificial observance imported from the U.S. The familiar “Trick or treat” custom is foreign to the typical Mexican family who is not going to waste money on costumes.
 “The Day of the Dead,” however, is indigenous in origin and Christian in practice. It’s no coincidence that “El Dia de Los Muertos” occurs on November 2, All Souls Day. It’s a sacred day for most Mexicans. Halloween…not so much.
I once joined an observance of “El Dia de Los Muertos” in a cemetery on the outskirts of Oaxaca, in the state of the same name.
By the time I arrived on All Saints Day evening, the city cemetery was already teeming with people who were gathering at their family plots. Children joined their parents and grandparents to observe the customs of the day. No one was dressed in a Halloween costume.
 I carefully made my way among the gravesites where family members had erected small altars. Children and youth brought flowers and entire families laid out plates of food for themselves and for the deceased.  At one gravesite, Uncle Jose was remembered by a favorite hat, a cigar and a home-made tamale all laid respectfully on his tomb next to a shotglass of tequila.
It’s dark during the observance of the Day of the Dead, Halloween in Mexico. The only light comes from the flickering candles at each grave which reveal the faces of those who have come to spend the night with their dead. While guitars play softly, each family respects the devotions of their neighbors.
As a non-Mexican I was not uncomfortable with the spirituality of the observance. The idea of recalling that those who have gone before us are still with us seemed right to me. The living had come to share one night by walking among the spirits of the dead in the place where they still lived.
Observing the customs of El Dia de los Muertos is a way of making a friend of death, since we all will have to experience it. It is a solemn observance of the reality of the spirit world. 
The entire family stays with the spirits all night, eating and drinking and singing.  If the candle flickering on Tio Pepe’s grave suddenly catches a wisp of air and moves or gets unaccountably brighter or even goes out, that is proof that Tio is there. 
The families remain all night with the spirits of their loved ones and do not leave until sunrise.
All Souls day used to be observed by Catholics as a day to bring flowers to the burial sites of loved ones. We prayed there and tended our grave sites out of respect for the memory of those family members who had died.
Our All Souls Day observance is like the Day of the Dead and very unlike Halloween. On All Souls Day, the Day of the Dead, we ought to visit a cemetery and remember that for Christian believers life is changed not ended at death. 

 

Lutheran Leaders Visit Pope Francis.

/ / Leave a comment
My Lutheran minister friend of thirty years sent me a notice of the recent meeting between Pope Francis and representatives of a coalition of Lutheran churches. (Oct 21, 2013)

It is remarkable that we have come so far in just the last fifty years.  There was a time here in the U.S. when Lutherans and Catholics wouldn’t even acknowledge one another’s presence. I, a Catholic, was taught Lutherans were heretics and Martin Luther, a renegade monk.

A Lutheran minister told me long ago that that his mother taught him to never trust a Catholic. These days, it looks like the pope and the Lutherans are trying to trust one another.

We’ve come far by dialoging. Lutheran leaders who have been in the forefront of ecumenical discussion think it’s O.K., even good, to walk into the Vatican and meet the Roman Pope on his own turf. They hear him say that Lutherans and Catholics do not need to contend any more. That time is over.  It is a time of healing now.

In his opening words,  Pope Francis greeted his Lutheran guests as brothers and sisters in the Lord.
He encouraged both Lutheran and Catholic leaders to work on practical ways of achieving the unity that Christ, Our Lord, prayed for in John 17; 20-21.

I have been blessed to be friends with three wonderful Lutheran ministers in my life. Forty years ago, one of them gave me a print of the Last Supper (by P. C. Hodgell).

 He wrote on the back of the print the following prayer: “…toward the time when we will be able to take communion together.”

Pope Francis thinks we are getting closer to that time.

 

Some Summer Birds Stay Behind in Winter.

/ / Leave a comment
The summer birds are gone: the warblers, fly catchers, orioles and goldfinches have all flown away along with most of the ducks. We do have some remainders, though. During the last one hundred years, the cardinals and robins have learned to stay here in the upper Midwest and endure the harsh winters. So, they stay and make me pay attention to them during my morning walks.

We had a strong frost this am but a few mallards float defiantly in the bright sunlight on the ponds that I frequent .Canada geese waddle around on land, determined to pass the winter with us, too. There is not an abundance of food but somehow these winter residents eake out a living.

Yes, the crows are crowing and the Blue Jays seem always to be scolding. The chickadees flutter around close to me and hang on the bark on the sides of trees.

The snow birds (Juncos) haven’t arrived yet but soon flocks of them will liven up the scrub bushes and barren paths.

Summer is dying and the bushes are losing more leaves with every breeze. But, the birds are still here. And, so I will get up in the morning and see what they are up to.

 

Original Sin: It’s more than a Forbidden Bite.

/ / Leave a comment

Original Sin is a concept we Catholics have inherited from St. Augustine.  In his book,“Confessions,” he explains why you and I are such a mess.
Adam and Eve, detail of  tomb  (Gerald Watt)

 Read the “Confessions of St. Augustine” and you will begin to understand why we have to suffer simply because two young people picked and shared forbidden fruit.  Why are we “attracted to evil” as one of the founders of my Congregation put the problem? Who would want to do bad? Who would choose to be evil?

Before you dismiss the idea that you might be attracted to evil, think of this: Doing evil can be fun (So I’m told).  Getting away with it can be more fun.
What does it feel like to steal an apple?  Well, you have to steal an apple to find out.
To toy with the possibility of sinning can be thrilling, heart-pounding, energizing.  To finally decide to do an evil thing is to experience a surging wave of pride.  Then, to actually do the evil act can be like the rush a diver feels as he jumps off of the high  diving board. (“I could break my neck, but …what the heck!”)
Sin is even better when a punishing angel chases you and is unable to catch and chastise you. The thrill of escape is captured by the poet who in the “Hound of Heaven” says “I fled Him down the nights and down the days… and under running laughter….” (Francis Thompson)
When you think about doing something evil that promises you some pleasure, your heart warms to the idea like a child who contemplates the forbidden coconut macaroons in the cookie jar in the kitchen. Such is the way of Original Sin.
We don’t choose to do evil because something is evil but because we are attracted to it as good. That’s how twisted our motivations become.  It’s only after the deed that we experience how sour sin can be.
As the Christian learns to ward off sin and depend on grace, he/she embraces more deeply the life of a follower of Jesus Christ. 
The sweet act of forgiveness which we experience in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, brings with it the sanctifying grace which begins to heal our troubled hearts. That grace is the same grace that was poured over us at our Baptism setting us free from the domination of Original Sin.
“…where sin increased, grace overflowed all the more….” (Romans 5:20)

 

Gentrification of the White-Tailed deer.

/ / Leave a comment
Birds did not show up this morning as I walked along a dirt path but unexpected wildlife did.

Four yearling deer stood still not ten feet from me in the first light of an October morning. With their light grey, furry, pointed ears, huge dark eyes and black noses, they appeared out of a cool mist and startled me.  I had turned a corner on the rustic path that I walk most days — and there they were.

 The deer were browsing some of the last green leaves of Summer and were mildly interested in me standing there so close by.  They made no attempt to move away: they just stood there munching, looking at me. So, I excused myself…I really did –out loud! I felt like I had interrupted their breakfast.

I continued down the path thinking about the abundance of deer so present these days even in our cities and suburbs.  These deer are gentrified, completely at peace with the walkers and talkers who move through their environment. They are not domesticated, just habituated to the humans who must seem so curious to them.

There are far more deer in America than when the pilgrims arrived. As the forests of the East and Midwest were leveled and agriculture took over as much of the land as was possible, more brush and what environmentalists call “edge” appeared. One example of edge is the strip of vegetation that farmers leave along creeks and rivers that pass through their land.  That’s where many species of birds find food and cover. It’s where deer live, too. They don’t live in the forest.

Years ago, the world’s expert on moose, deer and elk was Margaret Altmann, a researcher whose home bordered the Bridger Wilderness Reserve near Yellowstone.  I went with her once on horseback through forests and brush while she observed white-tailed deer through a monocular.  Her riding horses were unshod and stealthily made their way without disturbing the natural behavior of wildlife.

I wonder what she would say about our citified deer. I know one thing: She would be curious to know how civilized deer differ in behavior from wilderness deer. Margaret Altman has been gone for many years now but I think, were she alive, that she would be amazed how these deer accept us within their territories.

 

TwitterFacebookGoogle