Psalm 23 - a preschooler's take

Here's one seriously cute version of Psalm 23! It's found on God Tube, a take-off on YouTube. Renee Horton has an interesting take on YouTube and narcissism on her blog, which is linked in title of this post.


Hat tip: Renee Horton

Evangelical Catholicism Redux

John Allen, senior correspondent for the National Catholic Reporter, has a very interesting article on evangelical Catholicism, which you can link to in the title above. He points out that the last two popes, along with many of the bishops they have appointed, are evangelical in outlook. "Beginning with the election of Pope John Paul II in 1978, Catholicism has become a steadily more evangelical church -- uncompromising and unabashedly itself. Evangelical Catholicism today dominates the church’s leadership class, and it feeds on the energy of a strong grass-roots minority."

Back in April Sherry posted on the "Evangelical nature of Catholicism" [http://blog.siena.org/2007/04/evangelical-nature-of-catholicism.html] and that post generated many, many comments, some of which denied the possibility of using the word "evangelical," and implying that to use it was to separate Christ from the Church, or "protestantize" Catholicism. What Sherry was arguing was that the mission of the Church is both the worship of God and the spreading of the Gospel. Unfortunately, I believe most Catholics have focused almost exclusively on the first and forgotten the second since the Council.

Allen goes on to write, "The evangelical impulse isn’t exactly “conservative,” because there’s little cultural Catholicism these days left to conserve. Instead, it’s a way of pitching classical Catholic faith and practice in the context of pluralism, making it modern and traditional all at once.

David Bebbington, a leading specialist on Protestant evangelicalism, defines that movement in terms of four commitments: the Bible alone as the touchstone of faith, Christ’s death on the cross as atonement for sin, personal acceptance of Jesus as opposed to salvation through externals such as sacraments, and strong missionary energies premised on the idea that salvation comes only from Christ. Clearly, some of these commitments mark areas of disagreement with Catholics rather than convergence.

Yet if these points are restated in terms of their broad underlying concerns, the evangelical agenda Bebbington describes pivots on three major issues: authority, the centrality of key doctrines, and Christian exclusivity. If so, there’s little doubt that Catholicism under John Paul II and Benedict XVI has become ever more boldly evangelical."

Allen's article is interesting, but he may be failing to appreciate, I believe, a characteristic of a truly evangelical Catholicism. While, as Bebbington points out, Protestant Evangelicals may believe in "personal acceptance of Jesus as opposed to salvation through externals such as sacraments," that is not the case for Catholics. The evangelical thrust he's observing in the emphasis on authority, doctrine and the uniqueness of Jesus' sacrifice for our redemption within the Church also includes, I believe, a powerful commitment to the person of Jesus and a lived relationship with him.

For example, Allen mentions Pope Benedict XVI's recent book "Jesus of Nazareth" as coming from a concern for traditional Christology. That may be the case, but the book also flows from the Pope's reflection on the Scriptures and his relationship with his Lord. It is a product of prayer, as well as intellectual study.

Some may look upon Allen's description of evangelical elements in Catholicism as simply the triumph of a conservative agenda within the Church - and among those some will be dismayed, while others will be delighted. But I believe a true evangelical Catholicism - one which transcends the conservative or liberal label - is one which embraces the personal relationship with Jesus AND the sacraments. It embraces the authority of Christ over one's life, and is grateful for the guidance of Christ acting through the Church's magisterium. It is grateful for the offer of love and salvation that is given uniquely in Christ, and is willing to share that belief joyfully, patiently, and humbly with others - and is willing to incarnate that love as an instrument of Jesus, the Lord.

Pope Benedict XVI said in his first homily as Pope, "There is nothing more beautiful than to be surprised by the Gospel, by the encounter with Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than to know him and to speak to others of our friendship with him." This is the heart of a truly Catholic faith. It is a heart surprised by an unmerited love, and desirous to share that love with others. It is a love which claims an authority over the beloved, who will accept no substitute for the Lover. It is evangelical - "Good News."

Happy Birthday, David!

Today my only brother and eldest sibling, David, turned 59.

"Fifty-nine?!! How can I possibly have a brother that old?" I thought at Mass as I prayed for him. "He's been AARP eligible for FIVE years! He's going to be 60 next year! He may retire from teaching in a few years, if he wants!"

Then a few moments I thought, "In eleven years I'LL be preparing to turn 59. It'll be 2018. I'll have been ordained more than twenty-five years."

Then I thought, "How peculiar that I should presume to be alive in eleven years."

There's no guarantee that I'll be alive tomorrow, much less than in eleven years. So what am I putting off today that I shouldn't? Whom should I call to say, "I love you"? What might I say to God today that really needs to be said by me? Why should I put off reading from Scripture, sitting in silence, conscious of God's presence and love? If eternity comes to me before tomorrow, am I ready?

Do I desire my birth into eternal life with Jesus more than my next birthday?

Nature Lover

Sherry has been crowing about the beauty of Colorado, and I have to admit she's right. This is a beautiful state (as is Oregon, Utah, California and Arizona - all the states in the west in which I've lived). I had the blessing of doing some hiking in the Rockies last week with a friend of mine, Fr. Scott Steinkerchner, OP, who took a number of pictures of our adventures. I'm the small figure in the picture above.

That's part of the gift of hiking amid the mountains, streams, glacial valleys and alpine meadows of Colorado. I can't but recognize how insignificant my problems and concerns are in the presence of the majesty and beauty of God's creation. My background in geology and geophysics gives me an appreciation for the power at work in raising mountains, and the incredible span of history illustrated in the contorted beds uplifted before me, and the inexorable work of wind, water, ice and gravity in slowly tearing those mountains down. I find it comforting to be reminded that life doesn't revolve around me, and that the work I do, if it is at all successful, is not because of me, but because of the all-powerful Creator who chooses to work through me if I ask, and if I acknowledge Him as the one at work.

In the silence I hear the Lord calling me to set my burdens down and to simply rest in him. That invitation is so hard to hear in the roar of car engines on the road outside the room where I'm writing this, or in the brightly lit Safeway store with its Muzak-inspired siren song to "buy, buy, buy." The warm sunshine on my back and shoulders reminds me of the ever-present gift of grace that he's offering me. Laying back in the grass and looking up at the clouds as they morphed from one fantastic shape to another brought me back to the simpler days of my childhood, when being was more important than doing.


So many people I know say they find God in nature. I certainly won't deny that, since the Artist is present in some way in His art. Some will say, "yes, but nature doesn't make any demands upon us, the way God does in Scripture, or in liturgy, or in doctrine."

But I cannot agree with that statement completely. Jesus invites us to look at the birds in the sky and the flowers of the field. He points out, "they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span? Why are you anxious about clothes? Learn from the way the wild flowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them. If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?" (Mt 6:26-30)

The urge to be busy and productive, to achieve (and, more importantly, be known as an achiever) can be a sign of my lack of faith. This is especially true when my busy-ness is precisely that: MY business, rather than the Lord's. Getting out into the wild, untamed natural world, even if it's the mini-jungle of your backyard or the local park, and paying attention to the uncountable blades of grass, the tenacity of the weed popping through the cracked sidewalk, or the songbird giving voice to its ancient melody, challenges my sense of importance. The spent dandelion, with it's proud, bald head, reminds me of my mortality, and that my call from God is to be fruitful for His kingdom in the way he has established for me.

Perhaps we don't spend more time enjoying nature precisely because it challenges our self-importance and permanence. Yet if we remember the words of Jesus, "will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?" we may discover reminders that in spite of our insignificance compared to the whole of creation, we are still more than cared for, and more than precious in the eyes of our loving Creator.

Children as Mirror

An old friend from my first ministerial assignment, Rob Drapeau, has a blog called, "The Natalist Diaries" (click the title of this post for a link). He describes it as a sort of field journal of his domestic safari. He and his wife Amy have five children under the age of eight, so I suppose there is a fair share of wildness within the walls of their home.

He has a wonderful post titled "of hooks and mirrors," that chronicles a recent nightmare of his oldest, and here's the punchline (the Queen, by the way, is Amy, his wife):

"What amazes me is that as crazy as my kids can be, they always hold a mirror to my own irrationality. It seems each of our kids embodies some of the good and bad traits of Mama and Papi. This makes for a pretty entertaining home life, but it also serves as looking glass for the Queen and me to see our own faults and strengths."

It takes a lot of insight to realize this, and then courage to keep looking at our kids in such a way as to see our own foibles.

Good friends, especially spiritual friends, can do the same, albeit a bit more directly. If we're willing to listen and see, that is.

Deep Colorado

It's hard when you have 5 children, ages almost 3 to 12, to drive long distances but I did manage to get the gang a hour west to Wilkerson Pass about which Mark wrote below.

It is frustrating when guests come all this way and yet can't manage a two hour drive to the Continental Divide because the Springs, as lovely as it is, isn't, well, deep Colorado.

I was pleased with the trip to Wilkerson Pass but had to explain as the Sheas and Curps were oohing and aahing that this isn't really particularly spectacular scenery by Colorado standards.

What would "spectacular" be? Dave Curp asked me.

"The Million Dollar Highway through the San Juan mountain in late September" was my instant answer. Alas, we are one month early and it is a 6 hour drive from here so I can't let my guests see it for themselves.

Then just now, I found this absolutely wonderful slide show of the Million Dollar highway in autumn. What is striking is that the photographer, Weldon Schloneger, managed to capture the brilliance of the aspen at their height which is quite difficult to do.

The high country in late September is as close to the beatific vision via natural beauty as I expect to come in this mortal life.



Million Dollar Highway, Autumn

Ya Gotcher Basic Poiple Mountain Majesties Above Da Frooted Plain Goin' on Here

All us vacationers made the haj to South Park yesterday. No, not that South Park. The South Park that is an awesome vista consisting of an immense valley in the interior of the Colorado Rockies, surrounded by huge mountain peaks. It's the sort of place that should still having living dinosaurs in it.



Peter Shea

We had a loverly leisurely walk with the kidlets on a nature hike trail and looked for various plants and critters. We ate donuts. We cruised past the Rocky Mountain Dinosaur Resource Center (which we plan to visit today with our guys). We experienced the pleasures of mild hypoxia (I come from the land of oxygen-thick air right at sea level). And we sat out on the patio in the cool of the evening and watched the full moon rise. God is good.




Sean Shea


Two more days and then I give a talk for Siena and the Diocese on the Care and Feeding of the Lay Catholic Apostle. Three more days and we have our soiree on Discipleship and Community. Looking forward to meeting all y'all! Till then, our boys have more fossils to check out (and I don't mean me).



Sherry Curp (AKA "the other Sherry on ID)



Curps on a Rocky Mountain High (Miriam, Dave, Helen, and Elizabeth who was calling herself "the mountain star" at that moment.)

Family as Sign

We hear a lot today about the differing variations on family. We have single-parent families, same-sex parent families, blended families, and the steadily diminishing original two-parent families. It's easy, with all of this variation, to walk away with the notion that the human family is merely a biologically pragmatic arrangement or helpful social construction--the basic building block of human society.

These are, in a very certain sense, truths. However, to say that these elements define the notion of "family" in its totality is to reduce the rich significance of the family in the fullness of human life and denude its very real power for the world today. Family is not just a biological reality and a building block of society, it is also a participation in the Trinitarian Life of God Himself--particularly when it flows from the sacrament of marriage. David over at Cosmos--Liturgy--Sex has an insightful post on the rupturing effects of divorce on the family. In it, he highlights the very real sacred dimensions of marriage and family:

A family relationship has an existence, an ontology, that is more than simply the sum of its parts. It is not simply an aggregate of the multifaceted relationships among the various members of the family. The family relationship has its own existence. Its foundation begins with the marital union between wife and husband. Its ontology arises from the fact that marital union is the most unique and perfect interpersonal bodily participation in Trinitarian Communion. The marital relationship gives rise to the potency for integrating other persons (children) into it, but this marital relationship is the foundation for the entity known as the family. Thus, while the rupture of other relationships within a family can damage its over all health, the rupture of its ground–the marriage– destroys the whole. What is left is only the possibility for individual relationships. There is no whole left by which all of the multipersonal relationships can be integrated.

This is why the Apostolic Tradition speaks of a family as the domestic Church, and it is precisely because of this ontology that John Paul II said that the grace of God flows through the family. Like the Universal Church, the family is a sign and sacrament of God's love, one that can help accomplish what it signifies. God's love is made present to the world through the family united to Him and each other.

Therefore, part of the work we are called to do (transforming cultures and social institutions to render them more just and human) includes supporting the discernment and living out of solid, godly marriages, where men and women are prepared for the vocation of self sacrifice and giving, and helping the growth and nurturing of family life.

In a culture that often views multiple children as a burden rather than blessing, this is no easy task.

Yet the call remains.

Atheists Whose Deepest Yearning is to Be Wrong

John Allen's All Things Catholic just came out and is dedicated to the remarkable relationship between the famously atheistic Oriana Fallaci and the Catholic Church.

It's all fascinating but two quotes in particular struck me as fodder for a larger discussion:

Allen begins:

"Conventional wisdom has it, "There are no atheists in foxholes." In truth, atheists can be found even in foxholes, but often they're atheists whose deepest yearning is to be wrong."

And continues with a long passage from the man whom Fallaci asked to be at her side as she died: Bishop Rino Fisichella, rector of the Lateran University in Rome:

During those days, a phrase came into my mind from the posthumously published book of Ignazio Silone called Severina. The protagonist is a sister who had left the convent, who is now dying from a wound she received during a protest. At a certain point, one of the sisters from the convent comes to her deathbed and takes her hand, saying, 'Severina, Severina, tell me that you believe!' Severina looks at her and says, 'No, but I hope.' I believe we Christians have a great responsibility to talk about our faith with the language of hope. Quite often, people won't understand us when we talk about the content of our faith. But without doubt, people of today can understand when we talk about hope, if we talk about the mystery of our existence and the meaning of our lives …

Post-modern people are much more intrigued by our hope than our doctrine. Until our existential hope, our serenity, our wholeness, our love, our sanctity is visible, they won't listen to our propositions.

How can we live in such a way that atheists who long to be wrong find in us a compelling reason to doubt their conclusions about the universe and the one who holds it in being?

Outward Bound and Looking In

A distressing and moving multi-media piece in the New York Times this morning on Iraqi war vets seeking to gain strength for re-entry into civilian life by becoming part of a tough outward bound course near Leadville, Colorado.

"I don't know how to relate the experience of war and conflict to someone who hasn't been through it."

Reciprocity & Religious Freedom

John Allen posted an intriguing piece yesterday about how the changing global make-up of Catholicism is changing how ecumenism and inter-religious dialogue is understood.

In the immediate post-Vatican II period, the architects of Catholicism’s relationships with other churches and other religions were mostly Europeans, many of whom carried a sense of historic guilt for sins of the past, from the Crusades to the Wars of Religion, and in particular they were haunted by the Holocaust. Their approach was therefore dominated by the need for an examination of conscience, and a spirit of reconciliation.

Tomorrow’s trailblazers will be Africans, Latin Americans and Asians, who are often more likely to regard themselves as victims rather than perpetrators of religious intolerance. In the Middle East and parts of Africa and Asia today, Catholics suffer under aggressive forms of Islamicization, while Catholics in India are reeling from militant Hindu nationalism. In Latin America, Catholics often see themselves as targets of aggressive proselytism from Pentecostal and Evangelical movements.

In such contexts, self-defense rather than deference becomes the leitmotif. Two stories this week, both from the Indian subcontinent, help make the point.

Snip.

None of this means that ecumenical and inter-religious dialogue is headed for extinction under Southern leadership. On the contrary, the Catholic bishops of Asia have pioneered a flourishing “triple dialogue” with the cultures and religions of Asia and with the continent’s poor. In much of Africa and the Middle East, relations among Christians are close, in part because they face a common threat vis-à-vis radical Islam. Anglican/Catholic relationships in Africa may be stronger than anywhere else on earth, as both share a sense of revulsion about liberal moral tendencies among their co-religionists in the North. In Latin America, Catholics and Pentecostals are making common cause against the stirrings of secularization, especially in the legislative arena.

Demographic shifts in Catholicism are nevertheless reorienting the ecumenical and inter-faith outreach of the Catholic Church in two important ways.

First, reconciliation and mutual theological understanding are yielding pride of place on the inter-faith agenda to reciprocity and religious freedom. If the top post-Vatican II question was how Catholicism can be reformed to make space for a positive view of others, the question more likely to drive the 21st century is how other religions, and the societies they shape, can be reformed to make space for Christianity.

Second, the monopoly of “dialogue” as virtually the only way Catholicism relates to other Christians and other religions is giving way to more complex forms of engagement. Dialogue will remain important, but the 21st century is also seeing a comeback of apologetics, meaning a principled defense of the faith, and proclamation, meaning explicit efforts to invite others to conversion. Both are a reflection of the fact that many Southern Catholics are less inclined to tip-toe around the sensitivities of others, because they don’t feel responsible for creating those sensitivities in the first place.


Comments?

Intentional Disciple Elves Hard at Work

Mark Shea here again. The little elves of the Siena Institute are (between going to the Uncle Wilbur Fountain, visiting the Cave of the Winds and hanging off of cliff dwellings) getting revved up for our soiree next week. It's been a peculiar combination of goofing off (for us visitors from Ohio and Washington) and working (for Dave Curp and Sherry W.).

Sherry is toiling away on the prep for the Building Community meeting on the 31st. We had a good long talk into the evening and got a bit of a preview of things to come. I think those who are coming will be happy with the chewiness of the content. Sherry is not fluffy.

Here on the Shea front, sleep seems to have been interrupted last night. I got in about four hours and then woke with a headache, so I talk a long walk at dawn and had a lovely view of the prairie stretching away off to the east from Colo. Spgs. I also got in a decade of the Rosary and spent the walk sort of venting at God and trying to listen a bit. Jan and the kids are still in bed, which is a switcheroo since I've been the slugabed.

I've been laboring to not think deeply about things much, which I find is disturbingly easy. That said, I've also been enjoying our time here. I've got some big decisions I need to make and not having other things pressing has been good. Especially good has been the chance to, 'ow you say?, "pursue God in the company of friends" (a phrase of which you shall hear more on this blog presently). It's been really wonderful having a chance to re-connect with Sherry and the Curps (and the little Curplings). Simply the chance to hash out things out loud is really sweet, since we all have our various struggles and trials to deal with. So I am grateful.

Sherry is going to need the computer pretty soon and I have to decide whether to crash or go to today's expedition, so I'm logging off for now. But I will check in later.

Ciao!

Inside Baseball vs. Evangelization

Challenging words From Oswald Sorbino's blog, Catholic Analysis:

Inside Baseball vs. Evangelization

When you blog on Catholic topics, the natural and understandable tendency is to spend a lot of time on what one could call "inside baseball"--arguments about liturgy, Catholic problems, charisms, etc. But, once in a while, it is good to set forth the Good News so that non-Catholic or non-Christian visitors can see what is surely most important: Jesus Saves.

Jesus not only saves; but, as I have heard others say, Jesus loves to save. And "saving" includes healing of all kinds, not just spiritual but also emotional, psychological, and physical. Saving includes healing all wounds, even those from a very long time ago. Saving also includes forgiveness so that one can start again and be born anew from above (if you have already received the Sacrament of Baptism, then it is a matter of activating again the new birth you have already received).

Saving also includes empowering to live in the Holy Spirit in joy and peace. Saving includes the power to do the right thing, not to be crushed by impossible moral ideals that we, on our own, can never meet. Saving also means making us part of the Body of Christ where we can be refreshed with the sacraments, the prayers, and the communion of our fellow Catholics. Saving means we enter a new family united in the joy of praising the Lord Jesus and bound together by a bond that can surpass even biological ties to others.

The formula is basic: repent and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. But notice that repent is not just regretting this sin or that sin. The Gospel call to repentance, in the original New Testament Greek, has the sense of turning ourselves around, of changing our hearts and minds, of surrendering control to the true Sovereign and Lord. If you are non-Christian, you hand over your life to Jesus and begin instruction for receiving the Sacraments of Initiation (Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist). If you are a non-Catholic baptized Christian, you receive instruction to receive the Sacraments of Penance, Confirmation, and the Eucharist. If you are already Catholic, you rededicate your life to Jesus and seek out the Sacrament of Penance, also called the "Sacrament of Conversion." The end result is the happiness that never dies.

Yes, sometimes we have to take a break from all the "inside baseball" and talk about the crucial arena of our lives because the stakes are too high for all of us and because we may forget that many are desperately seeking Jesus.

Comments?

Running the Race

Take a look at this interactive slide show of the Pike's Peak Ascent that was run last Saturday. Then remember the reading from Sunday:

Brothers and sisters:
Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us
and persevere in running the race that lies before us
while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus,
the leader and perfecter of faith.
For the sake of the joy that lay before him
he endured the cross, despising its shame,
and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God.
Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners,
in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart.
In your struggle against sin
you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood.
Hebrews 12: 1-4


How does one run the race?

With the grace of God and the selfless and faithful help of friends like the volunteers portrayed in this slideshow of those who helped the runners on Pike's Peak.

Longing to pursue God in the company of friends?

Consider attending our Building Intentional Community day August 31.

No one finishes the race alone.

Greetings from the Sheas of Colorado!

Mark Shea here. Chesterton said that inconveniences were only adventures wrongly considered. On that accounting, I have had a weekend of adventures! After I saw Jan, Peter and Sean off on their flight to Colorado Springs, my flight to Amarillo was canceled, so I caught a redeye and was up all night. I got into Amarillo shortly before I was to speak, gave my first talk, then crashed in my hotel room with a wakeup call for 15 minutes before the next talk. Both talks seemed to go well (though it's typically hard for me to tell). I got to meet the bishop of Amarillo (a very good man named Yanta, a Pole who has, among other things, given Priests for Life a sort of headquarters and house of formation, not to mention coordinating a bunch of laypeople in a prayer campaign which has shut down 18 out of 20 abortuaries in the diocese. Speaking of Priests for Life, Fr. Frank Pavone was there this weekend and he kindly gave me a little tour of the new facilities for his apostolate. He seems to know what he's doing in terms of organization and creating a long-term ministry that will be fighting for the rights of the unborn for a long time. Also, he preached the Mass yesterday and was, as usual, terrific.

The flight to Colorado Springs was also full of adventure. The plane to Denver was inexplicably late by an hour, so I wound up missing my flight to Colorado Springs. However, I was able to catch a later flight and so arrived safe and sound and delighted to see Jan (who came and got me) and Sherry Weddell and the Curps (old friends all) as I stumbled through the front door of the house.

We sat up talking till 1:00 and played a bit of catchup (we haven't all been together since the last trip to C. Springs in 2003). Then we drifted off to bed and (for me) the beginning of some serious sleep deficit payoff. Today we popped out to the library and brought home *ridiculous* numbers of books--ridiculous as in "people were laughing at the giant armload of books I was lugging out to the car".

C. Springs is All That. Clear blue skies and warm with the Colorado Rockies Right There and Pike's Peak looming over you. The streets in the neighborhood are all named for plants and flowers. It's like the classic American town in addition to being the Vatican of American Evangelicalism.

We're taking it easy mostly. The oxygen level here is half that of Seattle due to altitude. So I am dutifully taking my iron and drinking a lot of water to stave off headaches. The two Sherrys and Jan are planning Big Things (something I overheard as I slipped off into my afternoon nap (ah!). I have no big plans at all. That's my idea of vacation. We did bring along the Dangerous Book for Boys as a resource idea for fun stuff to do as father and sons and will probably consult that oracle in our next bit of down time. I'm going to push for swimming soon, because it's 83 degree indoors.

I may be popping in from time to time on this blog to say howdy and chronicle our adventures. And I look forward to seeing those of you who are coming to the Siena Soiree in a week or so! Till next time: toodles!

Raised to the Dignity of Being Causes

More stuff from the archives which haven't seen the light of day in a long time:

Some years ago, a uniquely silly phrase enjoyed its fifteen minutes of fame. For one brief, tarnished moment, license plates across Seattle urged me to “Commit random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty”. I confess that I found the words “random” and senseless” to be intensely annoying.

I could not believe that someone was actually proposing that we put intentional acts of kindness in the same category as a sudden whim for a pickle and peanut butter sandwich or that we believe that the creation of beauty is a meaningless gesture that required neither sense nor skill. I hoped that no one was expecting torrents of completely artless kindnesses and spontaneous beauty to start pouring forth from my remarkably ordinary heart and soul. If the human community was waiting for me to become an unconscious fountain of inspired creativity and warm fuzzies, it might as well make itself comfortable. We’re gonna be here awhile. I may be accident-prone but I am not prone to either accidental niceness or artistic brilliance.

Thank God, our hope lies in something stronger than our personal whims of the moment. It lies in our freedom to make thoughtful, deliberate choices that have real, historical consequences. As Blaise Pascal observed, God has raise us, far beyond our merits, “to the dignity of being causes.” We are not random causes or senseless causes, but graced, intentional, prayerful causes.

A priest at a recent Called & Gifted workshop asked me a most interesting question. Why, does God give certain charisms only to a few? For instance, if a few people having the gift of healing is a wonderful thing, why not give the gift to millions? Of course, we don’t know why God distributes the gifts the way that he does. Such questions are natural and intriguing but they can distract us from a far deeper mystery: why does God bother giving us any gifts at all?

Why delegate any real power to us to affect things for good or ill? Why not just heal all our wounds and forgive all our sins by divine fiat? Why does God insist on raising us to the dignity of being causes? And not just causes of trivial things but of ideas, decisions, actions, and movements whose consequences ripple through the lives of million over the centuries and right into eternity.

When we ask such questions, God does not respond with an answer. Instead, he gives us a mystery: the Incarnation. The Church has long recognized that God did not have to take on our humanity in order to save us. He freely chose to redeem us as a human being through the medium of a fully human life and death. Further more, he choose to become incarnate by means of the Holy Spirit working with the consent and cooperation of a human teenager. In his major work, Against the Heresies, written in 190 AD, St. Irenaeus uses extraordinarily strong words to describe the consequences of a decision made over two hundred years previously by a young woman named Mary:

“Eve. . .having become disobedient, was made the cause of death for herself and for the whole human race, so also Mary, betrothed to a man but nevertheless till a virgin, being obedient, was made the cause of salvation for herself and for the whole human race . . . Thus, the knot of Eve’s disobedience was loosed by the obedience of Mary. What the virgin Eve had bound in unbelief, the Virgin Mary loosed through faith.”

Recently, a friend and I were talking with great energy about the need for lay Catholics to be "conscious, intentional" disciples. At the end of our conversation, he was silent for moment and finally commented, with the air of one giving into the inevitable: "Well, I guess it's ok if most Catholics are unconscious".

But it is not ok. God will not save us without us and he has chosen not to save the world without us either. There are no random saints or accidental apostles. As Christ began, so he continues to work today. He continues to pour out the graces of his redemptive sacrifice freely through fully human ways. We could never have earned these graces but we must deliberately choose to cooperate with them. We will not be transformed ourselves or become a channel of this grace for others without our free consent and intentional cooperation. God does insist on raising us to the dignity of being causes. If this is true, how many people's lives and salvation, how many communities, organizations, families, and cultures - history itself and its eternal significance - hang in the balance on the life choices of ordinary Catholics?

From Atheist to Newly Minted Catholic

Check out Et Tu? - the blog of a brand new Catholic (received at Easter, 2007) who tells her journey from atheist to believing Catholic in three years.

Catholic Fundraising

Back when I was in seminary in the mid- to late- eighties, the Dominican house of studies in Oakland, CA, began a wine tasting and wine auction to help our budget. Since we were only an hour or so away from the Napa and Sonoma valleys, it was a fairly simple matter of getting donations from local wineries. Over eight years it grew to become a very elegant event held on our priory grounds. Lay people were involved in preparing phenomenal hors d'oeuvres, and the friars in their habits and the wineries pouring tastings on the perimeter of our backyard with our tudor-style priory on one side and a small forest grove on the other made for a very classy event.

WIth the money made from the day-long event we were able to purchase the first computers for the use of our seminarians.

At the end of the seventh or eighth year the community voted to end the event, primarily because some students were uncomfortable with fundraising, saying, "I didn't become a Dominican to do fundraising events!" (uh, we ARE a mendicant Order...). Others felt it was morally indefensible to raise money using alcohol, when so many people suffering from alcoholism.

You can probably tell I was in favor of continuing the fundraiser, and, in fact, had been in charge of it for several years in a row.

Fast forward to the present. A local parish is having its annual fundraiser, and part of the festivities include a beer tent and a casino night. It would be illegal to allow people to gamble for money, but those with the most chips (which are given with the cost of a dinner with additional chips for sale throughout the night) at the end of the night can turn them in for prizes.

The parish festival is also used to attract non-Catholics to the parish.

Now a member of the parish is raising the question, "Should we promote gambling and drinking as part of our fundraiser, when so many people suffer from addictions to these activities?" The parishioner is suggesting that there may be other ways of raising funds that wouldn't include drinking and gambling. He points out that there will be children and teens at the festival (though not at the casino night, and beer is restricted to the confines of a tent), and what are we saying to them about the Christian life by promoting these activities?

Others argue that these are harmless activities if done in moderation, and to exclude them from the festival activities will decrease attendance and unfairly punish those who can enjoy them without going to extremes.

As a former pastor who has been involved with parish-wide garage sales, dinner auctions and other time-consuming fundraisers and development activities, I can assure you I wish we could rely upon the stewardship of the entire parish community to meet our budgetary needs. Perhaps when a majority of parishioners are intentional disciples finances will no longer be an issue. And it's kind of a catch-22. Whatever time and energy we're spending raising funds, we aren't spending on proclamation of the Gospel and the call to conversion or catechesis.

But until that financial and spiritual golden age dawns, what do you think about the use of alcohol or bingo, raffles, "casino nights" and other forms of gambling, to raise funds for other parish activities? Does your parish have any succesful fundraising events that don't involve what could be "vicious" behaviors for some people? Is the parishioner being a Puritan, or is he putting his finger on something that needs to change?

The Gang Has Descended

So blogging will be limited over the next two weeks. I'll see if I can get some of the ID gang (here and elsewhere) to post and a guest appearance perhaps by Mark Shea.

It is amazing what how the energy of 5 children (ages 2 - 12) changes a house! What's amazing is that the house manages to absorb it. We did this 4 years ago and we were still talking to each other at the end of 2 weeks. We are hoping to repeat the same thing this year.

It's a Mystery

It's a mystery . . .

Blogger has gone back and italicized everything I've ever written - without the slightest desire or effort on my part to do so. Even this may post as italicized even though I am NOT italicizing as I write.

Any suggestions, oh uber-blogging gurus?

Members of Lay Movement "Don't Like Church"

Take a look at this interesting Chicago Tribune article about the Focolare movement in Chicagoland.

But there is one stupifyingly stupid bit:

Since its founding, Focolare, the Italian word for "hearth," has grown to nearly 90,000 members worldwide. Most live in Europe, where the percentage of people who attend church has declined rapidly in recent decades. The Gallup International Millennium Survey found that just 20 percent of respondents in Western Europe and 14 percent in Eastern Europe attend religious services regularly.

Catholic lay movements have helped fill the cracks, said Dorian Llywelyn, a professor of theological studies at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles.

"They are attractive to people who don't like church but who want to get involved with their faith," Llywelyn said.

HUH? You take life-long vows in a lay movement, which incidentally means that you attend daily Mass because you don't like church?

Stupid comment by professor? Terrible writing by journalist augmented by lame editing? Or both?

Or did Llywelyn mean "the movements are attractive to people who don't like average parish life?" This is not fair or true either but note the implication: life in intentional Christian community is not "church" and is somehow opposed to "church".

Just how did the professor and/or writer get that idea?

Next Wave Faithful

Joe Waters is a Catholic grad student at the Duke divinity school in North Carolina who plans to spend the summer of 2008 doing an internship with the Institute. He writes to tell us that he'll be interviewed on EWTN's Next Wave Faithful radio show tonight in the 9pm (Eastern) time slot.

Joe's topics? The role of the laity, charisms, etc. You can listen live here. It should be good!

"If I Left the Church" and the Culture of Intentional Discipleship

I'm reviewing some of the many things that I have written over the years.

What is surprising to me is how relevant most of my early observations as a Catholic still seem to be. A million air miles and conversations with tens of thousands of Catholics have only show me how wide-spread the phenomena that I first encountered in Seattle and that I describe in the essay below is throughout the Catholic world.

I wouldn't write the same way today. I wouldn't use the same language. But my conclusion would be the same: As Catholics, we have a wonderful rich theology of evangelization and mission and the apostolate of the laity - but we aren't living it.

An absolutely critical piece is missing for 99% of Catholics: an experience of a culture of intentional discipleship and all that flows from that. Most people won't "get" the theology until they experience the reality on the ground. That's how most of us grasp new concepts. We see it enacted before us and around us by other people with whom we can identify.

The one percent of US Catholics who have been part of a lay movement like Communion and Liberation or the charismatic renewal or an evangelization process like Cursillo or some kind of evangelization retreat or part of a most unusual parish (and for links to some really remarkable parishes, check out our links here)tell similar stories.

I lost track a long time ago of how many like stories I've heard on the road. At least half of the pastoral leaders who attended Making Disciples last week expressed very similar frustrations. They were from 22 dioceses all over the US and Australia and yet they told us over and over again how isolated they were back home and how incredibly healing it was to be able to talk to other Catholics who cared about the same things they cared about.

Even more telling is the fact that five deeply committed, orthodox, and theologically sophisticated Catholics have used the same ominous language in totally unrelated conversations over the past two weeks, "if I left the Church". And the reason was always the same: lack of a community of friends with which they can pursue their relationship with God. ( I need to make it clear that I am NOT considering leaving the church myself nor did I bring the subject up - they used this language spontaneously)

Most of these people are cradle Catholics. It really transcends the issue of "Catholic or Protestant?". The central issue is whether or not you have ever experienced being immersed in a culture of intentional discipleship. Christians who have been part of a culture of discipleship have much in common with other Christians who have done so, even if they come from different ecclesial backgrounds. And many Catholics who have left us for the evangelical world would come back in a heartbeat if we could offer them a truly Catholic environment where they felt truly supported in their attempts to follow Christ.

So here's my take on the same dynamic from 10 years ago. It is fairly long and covers briefly the story of my conversion (I think I wrote it at the request of a Catholic media group)and ends rather abruptly but still manages to give a pretty vivid sense of what it means to move from a culture of discipleship into a Christian culture that is not primarily centered around discipleship.

"When I think back on my early life, the thing that is most striking is how easy it was for me to find instruction and support for my Christian faith. I was not a Catholic but was raised in a Christian family that took the faith seriously. Every member of our family was strongly encouraged to make a personal commitment to follow Christ. I studied and memorized the Bible at home as a child. We played games based on Scriptural knowledge during mealtimes. Our Christian culture and local church assumed that every member had a call from God and should be actively discerning that call as a teen-ager and young adult.

As a college student I received training in Scripture study, how to share my faith with others, how to lead a small group, how to pray, and how to discern God’s call. All kinds of practical formation in Christian living was available in my tiny local church of 150 people or through local branches of para-church organizations that worked hand-in-hand with local parishes. For instance, I received one-on-one mentoring in the faith by another young woman who had been specifically trained to help me in this way. I was strongly encouraged to study on my own as well and taken on a tour of several local Christian bookstores to familiarize myself with the resources available through the wider Christian community.

While I was still in college, a remarkable woman leader in my local church took me under her wing and changed the direction of my life. She taught me how to listen to my own heart, how to listen to God’s voice, and how to pray for others. I was deeply impressed by the her wholeness, the way in which she had integrated her life and faith, and the way in which she used her gifts and exercised leadership as a lay women.

Because I had an interest in missionary work to the Middle East, I was able to link up with other young local Christians in my neighborhood who met to pray for missions, to prepare themselves for missionary work and to reached out to international student studying in the US. With this support, I switched majors and studied Arabic and Near Eastern history. I lived in a house near the university run by a young woman who had already spent 6 years abroad with a lay missionary organization. The day after I graduated from college I drove across country with some friends to a national conference on Christian outreach to Muslims put on by an organization dedicated exclusively to the formation of the lay evangelists.

In retrospect, I am astonished that I never marveled at the abundance of personal formation and support that was readily available to me as an ordinary Christian lay woman. I assumed that it was normal for local churches and student organizations to provide numerous opportunities for apostolic formation. Since Christ had called every one of his sons and daughters to mission, we thought it was only natural that every Christian be readied for that mission in their local parish. Most importantly, I never found myself alone in my spiritual questionings or discernment process. I was surrounded by lay peers who were asking the same questions and wrestling with the same issues and perfectly at ease in talking about it. I was regarded as gifted (but then so was everyone else in different ways) but never exceptional.

We took St. Paul’s teaching in his epistles about spiritual gifts quite seriously and sought to discern the gifts each Christian had been given by the Holy Spirit to empower them for their personal vocation. In my small local church, a group of us took an inventory to help us discern our spiritual gifts or charisms. As a young adult, I had begun to see particular gifts of the Holy Spirit emerge. I had a strong desire to pray for others and saw remarkable things happen when I did so.

I discovered that I had a charism of teaching when an older married woman asked to meet with me every week to discuss prayer and the spiritual life. I prepared for these sessions by writing up little lessons on prayer, which she found extremely helpful. Our informal mentoring relationship continued for two years until she left to do missionary work with her family in a "closed" Muslim country, a choice which was not unique in my experience. I knew at least a dozen Christian families in the neighborhood who had done similar things.

By that time, I had started to teach small, informal classes in discernment and prayer for interested lay people in homes. I later taught similar classes to the staff of a Christian bookstore where I worked. The classes included prayer exercises that each person would do during the week, often at work, and then would share their experience. I received very strong positive feedback from those who took the classes and begin to discern that here was a specific area in which God had called and gifted me.

In light of my desire to do missionary work, it seemed only natural that I do further training and so I enrolled at the largest graduate missions training institution in the world. While there, I lived and worked on a college campus occupied by a lay organization which focused entirely on outreach to completely unevangelized peoples. I lived and breathed frontier world missions twenty-four hours a day with hundreds of eager missionaries and leaders from around the globe. I never knew whether the person next to me at dinner would be an experienced missionary to the Philippines or a Ugandan refugee. It never once struck me as odd that all these people training to spread the faith to the farthest and most inaccessible parts of the globe were ordinary lay Christians.

As the ways in which God touched other people through me became clearer, I began to call myself a "people-gardener". I wasn’t exactly a counselor or a healer but mysterious though it was, I recognized that Christians grew as human beings and as apostles around me. I was fascinated with bridging the gap between Christian ideals and the experience of average Christians. I strongly identified with committed Christians who were struggling or discouraged in their attempts to live the faith in a whole-hearted manner and desired to help them. In this area I did not find myself alone since many Christians I knew were concerned about the same thing. In a world where serious lay discipleship was normative, all leaders and pastors were asking "How can I help people live and share the faith in as full and joyful a way as possible?" I was not exceptional in my concerns, I was simply recognized to be especially gifted in this area.

In the midst of all, I was slowly awakening to the riches of the Catholic Church. When I began seeking out private places to pray for others, I found that most Protestant churches were closed during the day. And so I entered the lovely church of the Blessed Sacrament for the first time. Its austere beauty accommodated my Protestant sensibilities. But the truly compelling attraction was a sense of God’s presence there in a particularly powerful way. I was completely unfamiliar with Catholic belief in the Real Presence, an idea I would have rejected. Rather, I presumed that since Blessed Sacrament was old, what I was experiencing was the "residue" left from decades of prayer. In any case, I was hooked. Protestant churches, however lovely, weren’t filled with that same Presence. From that time on, I prayed as much as possible in Catholic churches.

Those hours spent in different Catholic churches as I moved around the US and then to Britain, and the Holy Land slowly and subtly undermined my anti-Catholic prejudices. My first Easter Vigil service marked the fall of another barrier to the Catholic faith. In my casting about for a fuller way to celebrate Easter, nothing had prepared me for the power and truth of the Vigil. The many Scriptural readings impressed me, and I found the Exultet majestically beautiful. Thereafter, I decided to attend the Vigil every Easter.

While serving in Wales, I discover to my surprise that the most nourishing worship service available to me was at the local Catholic parish. The Welsh, mind you, are a people for whom singing hymns in massive choirs is a national sport. And so it was among this nation of choristers that I experienced the rhythms of the liturgy for the first time. Welsh Catholics sang most of the liturgy in parts. I was still very Protestant in my approach to worship. By the time I’d heard all the readings and listened to the homily, I figured the essential part of the service was over. But as I experienced the life of the Church from Epiphany through Corpus Christi, more of my misconceptions fell away.

Upon my return to Seattle, I went on an intense, three-week retreat overseen by a Christian psychologist. During one of the high points of this experience, I felt God's goodness and grace passing through me, a created being, into the world. In a flash, the whole sacramental notion that God's grace can and does enter the world through matter became real to me. This was a crisis! My tiny church didn't celebrate sacraments in any form. After a single visit back, I knew I could no longer make do with non-sacramental worship. For me, the sacraments had become spiritual necessities and I knew where to find them! My longing for the sacraments was enough to overcome my remaining reservations and I quickly entered RCIA.

It took a couple more years to resolve all my issues but in December of 1987, I was finally received into full communion. When astonished Protestant friends would ask me why I had joined the Catholic Church, I would simply reply "To follow Jesus". I longed to be at the center of the Body of Christ, not at the periphery. I wanted to be where Christ’s redeeming work was the center and focus of worship and His presence the heart of the sanctuary. I wanted to be united with the communion of saints throughout time and space. The Christian world I was entering was infinitely larger than the one in which I had been raised. The inexhaustible depths of the ancient, universal Church dazzled me. New spiritual, intellectual, cultural, and historical horizons beckoned in every direction
.
My reasons for entering were partly experiential, partly mystical, partly liturgical – but always centered around the compelling vision of Church universal. I had had the best of evangelical Protestantism and was tremendously grateful but now I was being called into an infinitely deeper and richer Christianity. In my joy, I felt like the inhabitant of Sheol being called forth by the victorious Christ in an ancient homily for Holy Saturday "Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you life"

But nothing I had read in any catechism could have prepared me for the reality of trying to sustain my faith in a local Catholic parish. During my first full year as a Catholic, I nearly drowned in loneliness and despair. Where I had once been surrounded by lay peers who shared a similar experience and formation, I now felt as though I were a freak of nature.

I had come from a world where our common faith was at the center of every gathering of Christians and at least alluded to in nearly every conversation. Outside of Mass, Catholics seemed to talk only about the weather or the Mariners. The lay men and women in the pews with me were strangely uncomfortable talking about the faith and were mystified and irritated by my enthusiasm for doing so. As one cradle Catholic told a convert friend of mine" if you’re going to pray, pray. If you’re going to socialize, socialize. Don’t mix the two."

I quickly discovered that it was better if I didn’t talk about my experience and training or about the accomplishments of the lay missionaries who were my friends. It was simply light years beyond the experience and imagination of nearly every Catholic I met. I was once asked to write an article on lay vocation for a national magazine aimed at serious lay Catholics. I broke my rule and wrote the true story of the woman friend whom I had mentored and who was now quietly doing remarkable things in one of the most oppressive countries on earth. The editor told me to take her story out. "None of our readers could possibly aspire to such a ministry" he told me.

Every summer, this very woman returns for a few weeks to Seattle and attempts to describe the struggles and victories of her entire year to me. I meditated on that Catholic editor’s comment during one such visit as I watched her talking. This five-foot-nothing, middle-aged housewife, her rumpled clothes and drooping eyes mirroring her exhaustion and jet lag, was this woman so very extraordinary? Could none of the thousands of lay Catholics who read that magazine never aspire to do something similar?

I knew that my friend was not unique. Ordinary lay people aspired to such things all the time in the Christian world I had known. I came from a quite ordinary family. We do not have a tradition of becoming missionaries or pastors or evangelists. And yet had I not listened to my cousin’s stories of his missionary work in Moscow? What about my roommate in seminary who spent five years as a lay missionary in Turkey before marrying a local Armenian. My 19 year old sister had served in Nigeria with a team of young adults supported by a vibrant church only three blocks away from my own parish. I knew that there were thousands of non-traditional lay missionaries in the world. What was it that made Catholics so certain that such a work was "too much" for a lay man or woman to undertake?

I once asked that question of a group of Dominican pastors to whom I was speaking on the lay apostolate. A very knowledgeable and committed lay DRE who heard my talk simply could not believe it. "You can’t have come from an ordinary Protestant family", she protested. By that time, I knew that Christians who had been raised Catholic shared a powerful, if invisible lay culture that wasn’t described in any catechism and was foreign to my own experience. In the world of ordinary lay Catholicism, my formation and experience was abnormal and alienating. I gradually ceased to talk seriously with other lay Catholics unless I was with other converts from the same background.

The most painful moment came when I realize that I had to admit to myself that if I had been raised Catholic, I would not have received the years of personal nurture and formation that made me who I was. It simply wasn’t available to ordinary lay Catholics in their local parishes and communities. I believed that all that the Catholic Church believed and held to be true, but I was living off the spiritual abundance of my Protestant past.

I held on through a naked act of the will. Christ had called me into the center of His Church and I would not leave. But neither could I settle for so little. I would walk the three blocks to the neighborhood evangelical mega-church and look on with longing envy. This church was no larger than many Catholic parishes in Seattle, but it might as well have been on the far side of the moon, so profoundly different were the assumptions at work there.

Their motto was "every member a minister" and they meant it. This church had high-powered formation program for children, university students, and adults of all ages. It was normal for 6-9 different classes to be offered for adults every Sunday. This church’s largest department was "Urban and Global Mission". They supported lay missionaries and programs in 25 different countries and sent their own members on short and long-term missions every year. This was the congregation that had enabled my sister to go to Africa. This was the world I had given up by becoming Catholic.

I tried to participate in both communities for a while but found it surprisingly difficult. Although people were certainly welcoming, I was no longer Protestant in my theology and understanding of the church and I gradually realized that evangelicalism could never be "home" again. I felt, as have many other converts, personally torn in two by the schism that had riven western Christendom for nearly 500 years. Either I could have the sacraments, the communion of saints, and the Church universal or I could have a vibrant local community where I could really share with like-minded lay Christians and receive real nurture and support in living out my faith. I could not have them both. They belonged to two irreconcilable spiritual universes that dwelt in splendid isolation from one another.

Two years after being received into the Church, I felt that God was calling me to prepare for a new work of helping other lay Christians discern their vocations. By this time, I knew better than to turn for assistance or support from my parish or diocese. I was entirely on my own. I made plans to change jobs in order to return to graduate school. Co-workers innocently asked me if I would be getting help from my church. I laughed inwardly at their naivete. My confessor had written a nice letter of recommendation for me but I was quite certain that that was the only help I would receive from the Catholic church.

I truly did not know where God was leading me. I certainly never expected to work in a parish. I could not imagine a Catholic parish being seriously interested in serious formation for the laity. The pastors I had met regarded lay people at best as potential parish volunteers, not apostles. I could see no obvious forum for my work in the local Catholic church but felt that if I was faithful, God would make some informal opportunities available. I reminded myself that perhaps God intended that I help just one other person. My ministry might always be quiet and informal. My job was simply to follow as best I could. So I changed jobs and planned to gave up all my discretionary income and my weekends for three years in order to finish school. Those three years turned into six as I finished school and then began helping small groups of lay Catholics discern their charisms.

During this time, I kept getting called by lay Catholics who were thinking of leaving the Catholic church for the evangelical world because they longed for fellowship and real instruction. I did my best to support these individuals over the phone for a while. Then, in a single day, I talked to two Catholics on the verge of leaving and was called by a Protestant professor who was seriously considering becoming Catholic but despaired of finding a local parish where his family could be really nourished. I hung up from that call determined to do something.

I had been a Catholic for six years by this point and looked to my local parish for nothing beyond the sacraments. In my experience, pastors tended to dismiss Catholics who left the Church for such reasons as fundamentalists who wouldn’t be missed. If anything was going to be done about this, it would have to be done by lay people. I gathered a group of mostly convert friends together and started a fellowship group so that those on the verge of leaving or entering the Church wouldn’t have to wrestle with their issues alone. We met once a month for prayer, a potluck dinner, a talk and discussion. Since we couldn’t come up with a name for our little group at first, we called ourselves "The Nameless Lay Group". In time, we decided that we liked being nameless and nameless we remained.

We gave eager young lay Catholics their first experience of personal support and formation in their faith. A Catholic father of eight who had left in frustration found the support he needed to be able to return to the Church. We gave a young Baptist man his first positive experience of lay Catholics and he soon began to attending Mass regularly with his Catholic wife and eventually entered RCIA. Through the miracle of the internet, we helped a entire Protestant family in New Zealand enter the church."

Gloria Strauss update

The Seattle Times reporter, Jerry Brewer, who is covering Gloria and her family (Gloria is an 11 year old cancer patient in crisis whose fight has been covered by the Seattle Times over the past 4 months) is keeping a blog and this is his most recent entry:

"As promised, I want to tell more about last night's touching prayer session.

It was truly a sight to see about 30 people praying around Gloria. With the permission of Gloria's parents, we taped portions of it. Once audio is edited, we plan to make it available online, perhaps by tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, I'm going to give some highlights from last night.

-- Kristen shared that she heard God give her a message in Gloria's diction: "Give her to God and let Him do his thang."

Kristen was searching for what to do. When those words popped into her head, she was comforted. Gloria is a big "American Idol" fan, and she can do impressions of all the judges. Her Randy Jackson may be the funniest, and the way Kristen heard the words, "do his thang" sounded much like Gloria imitating Jackson.

To explain it very simply, Kristen took it to mean God was assuring her that Gloria will be just fine.

-- Kristen also read a passage from the Magnificat, a collection of spiritual writings that she reads every day. This just happened to be the selected reading for Monday:

"Let the Lord, God, show us what way we should take and what we should do. To God, the darkest the steps of the human heart are as clear as the page of a book lying open in the sunlight. He knows us through and through, and He loves us as deeply as He knows us. Rather than hide from Him, let us put our life in the hands that fashioned us and allow Him to lead us in the path of eternal life."

Said Kristen: "Just hearing that, it confirmed to us that God is still walking with us in this and that He's still guiding us. He's not abandoning us."

-- Jessica Morley, a senior-to-be at Kennedy High School in Burien, where Gloria's father teaches and coaches, revealed that she had a dream Saturday night.

"I had a dream that I was talking to a man, and I was explaining to him how frustrated I was that so many people are giving up on Gloria's miracle," Morley said. "He told me that I don't have to be like them. That I don't have to settle for an average faith.



"When I woke up in the morning, those words were ringing in my head, and it gave me a lot of comfort."

Back story on Morley: As an infant, she had neuroblastoma, but doctors found it early enough to save her. She's now in remission. Though the situations are different, the Strausses look at Morley as an inspiration.

-- Random quote from Gloria's father, Doug, talking about praying with conviction: "Like Shaq said, don't fake the funk on a nasty dunk."

Doug uses humor to get through all of this. But he warned everyone last night, "I'm not using humor to hide from the truth. I am being realistic."

-- And here's the moment that made me tear up: Watching Seattle University student Diana McKune, who has a brain cancer called intracranial germinoma, get out of a wheelchair in struggle, in pain, to get on her knees to pray at Gloria's bed.

McKune met Gloria a few years ago and has been taken by her story ever since.

It was an unbelievable night.

-- On a personal note, all of this is reminding me of the value of community. As I've tried to rise in journalism, I've gone from city to city, trying not to settle in too much because I don't want to be afraid to run to the next opportunity.

Because of some childhood experiences, I've also been against being part of a church community. I've preferred to study the Bible alone or in small groups and visit churches from time to time but not join one.

I became jaded because there are always negatives when a large number of people gather and try to do something together. Jealousy. Gossip. Back-stabbing. Those kinds of things.

This experience has taught me that there are church communities with different DNA, and I shouldn't be so stubborn. My faith has always been there, but my faith in others waned. Now that is starting to turn.

It's been an invaluable revelation.

It doesn't really influence how I write this series, but it may change my life in the very near future."

The Leadville Effect

The amazing, bizarre, and incredibly moving Leadville Trail 100 will be taking place this weekend on the backbone of North America. I haven't been able to talk the Sheas and Curps into racing over to catch the final on Sunday morning (they mumbled something about being tired)but my memories of last year's are still fresh and I'd like to share them with you.

I blogged about this back in our first week of existance back in January but probably only 20 people read it - so it is again:

The Leadville Effect




Leadville, Colorado is a perfect setting for human drama. Leadville started life as a classic, wild-west town full of miners in search of fabulous wealth. It is the highest incorporated town (10,200 feet high) at the foot of the highest mountain range in North America. That means that it is short on oxygen and long on superlatives. The steeple of the exquisite Victorian Catholic church (where the famous “Unsinkable Molly Brown” was married) is, naturally, the highest church steeple in North America. In the grip of an 24-hour stomach flu, I recently earned the distinction of throwing up on the lawn of th