Quick Hits - Lent Journal (23/40)

It's hard to really give much thought to anything other than worldwide efforts to survive right now, so tonight will just be bullet-form again. I'm also wondering about the merits of moving to every other day instead of daily, but I need to pray on it.

• There are few moments that I am glad to work for a supply chain software company, but right now is one of them. Our clients include Publix and Home Depot, and they need all the support they can get to keep inventory.

• So many of us have come out of the first week of social distancing ready to support their local communities. The Atlanta Facebook community has coordinated mask making for local hospitals that will be out of protective equipment in less than two weeks. They need volunteers for every part of this effort: supply donors, sewers, pickup / delivery.

• Last week a group of us started praying a daily Chaplet of Divine Mercy at 3pm over video chat. Since then, my girlfriend and I (and her family) have started praying the Angelus at noon, and now my girlfriend is video-hosting a daily rosary at 7:30am. Lots of opportunities for prayer, and lots of need as well, especially in groups.

• I'm so glad to see Church leadership finding so many ways to extend God's mercy. If you aren't Catholic this won't make much sense or may just seem unnecessary, but for those who are:

• Bishops and pastors are being encouraged (where necessary) to grant general absolution to the faithful. To be clear this is not a doctrinal change - however, the practice is not common except in emergency circumstances where individual confession may not be an option. Individual confession is still so much better though; as hard as it can sometimes be to speak my sins to another human person, it's so enriching to and beautiful to hear the words "I absolve you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit".

• The Vatican granted a set of plenary indulgences this past week to support the faithful and those who love them. This includes those who are quarantined; those who risk their health and lives in caring for the sick; and those who pray for the end of this pandemic.

• The Franciscan Friars of the Renewal will be streaming a nightly parish mission including Eucharistic adoration, music, prayer, and preaching. There's so much about this I'm excited about.

• Fr. Giuseppe Barardelli died from COVID-19 today - an elderly priest in Italy. He had given his respirator to a younger patient, and as a result become ill. A tragedy, but also a beautiful witness to the love and mercy of God. Fr. Barardelli, pray for us!

• So many opportunities from pastors and bishops for live-streamed Mass - not as entertainment to watch, but as prayer to unite ourselves with and participate in: the source of spiritual life for the Church. Heartfelt homilies, praying for spiritual communion even as physical communion is not currently available.

• My girlfriend and I will be spending tomorrow evening enjoying "company" (from afar) with each other, and COVID-19 will not be a topic of conversation. This, after tonight when we only got to talk for about 30 minutes and the entirety was discussing today's local happenings and what we can do to help.

Brief Thoughts - Lent Journal (Sunday Lent IV)

A few brief thoughts that came up from today's readings:

• Isn't it curious how the LORD never reveals the full plans? He could have simply told Samuel, "Go and anoint David, Jesse's son, in Bethlehem". Instead, Samuel's faith is tested by having to go without knowing - he discovers God's plan in his faithfulness. This allows him the joy of being surprised by who is chosen, and who is rejected. Where am I being asked to trust without knowing the full story?

• Anointing with oil was symbolic of the richness of creation. It always makes me remember Confirmation, specifically the scent of the oil. I remember feeling the rush of the Holy Spirit at the Easter Vigil three years ago, a truly awesome sensation - which you could certainly partially attribute to good old-fashioned adrenaline, but was such a vivid extraordinary feeling that I have a hard time reducing it to anything naturalistic.

• "He guides me in right paths ... even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side" -- It still seems so counter-intuitive that God leads us into the dark valley. Or I suppose the appropriate preposition would be through instead of into. Our Father wants us to come to understand that we can rely on Him for everything, which means we have to come to see that we can't do it on our own.

• I have been working my way through the Bible - I just finished Jeremiah and most of Isaiah after getting through Kings and Chronicles. The lesson of primary importance is that same message - God asks that we look to Him for answers. This is so counter-cultural for those of us who were raised in contemporary American individualism that says self-reliance is the only type of reliance that can be counted on.

• The suggestion that we are light in the Lord is such a surprising twist in the spiritual life. While God is capable of doing all things on His own, the implication here is that we become the lights that expose darkness in the world, so that it can be rooted out. We are constantly on mission to enter into the deep dark undergrowth of society to uncover that which would otherwise go unnoticed. The Church needed that type of mentality through the decades of sexual abuse.

• We also need that mentality in our own lives, here and now. We need daily examinations, and we need to ask the Holy Spirit for the gift of humility and honesty in investigating every corner of our souls for the corruption of sin.

• There's too much to cover about the man born blind. Sometimes we get so caught up on the question of whether a person's circumstances were their own fault. Jesus's answer should undermine an accusatory attitude that would treat others as being outside of the Body of Christ. If any pain or suffering is allowed by God, it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.

• The story of the man born blind isn't just about physical blindness. It can just as easily be applied to spiritual blindness in our own lives. What are we blind do, either in our own lives or in society around us? What do we fail to see, and where does Christ wish to enter in and open our eyes? 

Redemptive Suffering - Lent Journal (22/40)

Tonight my girlfriend and I were video chatting, and I think we both were feeling the burden of uncertainty and lack of control over the future. We've been trying to maintain balance: paying attention to the news (both local and ecclesial); trying to talk through concrete plans for how to prepare for the worst; keeping cautious with social distancing; and trying to not focus exclusively on COVID-19. I'm sure we aren't alone in feeling as if this is the only topic on everyone's mind right now, and just needing to talk about anything else to keep some sort of normalcy.

I can't tell exactly what we are more anxious about: the prospects about potentially becoming infected ourselves, of potentially infecting those who we care about, or the likelihood of some form of rationing and food/supply shortages. I went to the grocery store tonight and my mind immediately went to food insecurity during the Great Depression and needing to stand in line for hours to receive daily rations.

The Catholic perspective on all this is so curious because it is so honest about the reality of suffering. I've already written about hope, but what didn't go into that discussion was the Catholic answer to the question: why does a perfectly loving God allow suffering? Now, 11:30pm is hardly the time for me to engage that question with any veracity (nor am I equipped to give more than a basic and perhaps unsatisfactory argument). But at the very least I can wrestle with the painfully beautiful claim that God allows suffering and evil to bring about a greater good. In other words - God promises to redeem suffering, transforming it so that we can actually be grateful for whatever suffering we endure.

It is definitely an act of the will to accept that as a principle by which to live your life - within the greater Catholic framework, that is. You can't just say everything happens for a reason without a broader understanding of the world that can back up the belief. For example, unless there is an afterlife you can't honestly say you believe in the concept of universal justice. Similarly, unless God is the transcendent reality that sustains all creation can we say both that God is in control and that we have free will.

I think we can understand these things in the abstract and still want nothing to do with them in our lived reality. Because I would prefer this not to be happening, and in the moment it is impossible even to attempt to predict what greater good will come out of this. Then again, I'm sure the same was set of the black death; the fall of Rome; the suffering of innocent bystanders; so many other atrocities that weigh on us emotionally.

So on the one hand I do want to point out all the beautiful gifts that are already coming out of this virus:

• A return to simpler and slower lives
• The care of medical workers
• Upholding the dignity of every person, employed or unemployed
• Seeing how much we all touch each others' lives, and what we have been missing the past couple decades of loneliness and shallow friendships
• Remembering the importance of Mass, and especially of the Eucharist
• Incredible examples of pastors caring for their flocks in creative ways

But I can also imagine that those who have actually been directly affected by this virus - those who have been infected or have lost loved ones - aren't interested right now in seeing any redeeming value to something that has caused them so much pain. The question that seems appropriate is why did I have to be sacrificed for this greater good to come about? Why me?

I don't want to dismiss that question, because we worship a God who cried out My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? from the cross. We need to show so much support and compassion to those who are suffering, and platitudes just don't cut it. When confronted with suffering - especially the suffering of those we love - we don't want to see the silver lining; we just want it to stop.

But at some point we have to be confronted with the question of hope yet again: is God present in every moment or not? Is Emmanuel - God-with-us - the truth of how reality is configured? Is God truly benevolent? Do I trust my Father that He has my best interests in mind and is infinitely concerned with doing what it takes to demonstrate His love for me?

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I have this image I've been chewing on the past couple years, of Purgatory. Typically when we discuss it we are focused on the need for expiation of temporal punishment due to sins. But I'm convinced that what most of us need healing from is our relationship with Our Father. I think when we die, we will meet Saint Peter, who will hand us the million-page tome of our lives, with all the details filled in for how God was working in every moment. And our time in Purgatory will be spent reading the book, realizing for the first time So that's what He was doing there; I'm so thankful I went through that.

I know there is merit in simply trusting without seeing, and to some extent the onus is on us to accept the truth that God loves us; but God is merciful and tender and compassionate, and I sincerely believe He understands that we need His help to get to that point.

It Takes Both Kinds - Lent Journal (20/40)

This past Winter break, I was planning to visit my friend Beth and her family up in Maryland. It was about a three hour drive each way from Richmond (where my parents live), and I wasn't going to stay overnight because I was flying back home the next evening, so I knew Thursday would be a packed day, but I was really looking forward to it. Unfortunately on Christmas Day, I got a text from her saying at least two in the house had gotten a bad case of the stomach flu, and she suggested I stay away for my own sake.

I wrestled with this for most of a day, before I ultimately decided to visit anyways. I hadn't seen her since high school, and she was one of those who had gotten sick; with five kids in the house, I figured she and her husband could use an extra hand for the afternoon. My plan was to avoid touching or eating anything that she or her kids had touched, wash my hands, and generally be careful. Plus, she was already mostly feeling better and nobody else was showing symptoms yet.

Beth and I had a wonderful visit - we went to Mass together and received the Eucharist side-by-side for the first time, we generally caught up, I had a great time with her kids, helped ease things around the house, and enjoyed dinner with them before leaving. I drove back to Richmond, got to my parents' house around 1am, and went straight to sleep.

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I think you know where this story is going. I started feeling sick that same night, and by morning I wanted nothing to do with food. I sipped Gatorade and broth most of the day, sitting and reading while trying not to move or upset my stomach. I also made sure to wash anything I had ate or drank from, and avoided any contact with my parents - no hugs when saying bye at the airport. My girlfriend picked me up from the airport with a few supplies for the next couple days as I recovered. I declared my house a no-entry zone until I saw my son on Monday, followed by my parents coming down on Tuesday.

When my parents arrived, my dad was complaining about his stomach being queasy, and he was asking about my symptoms from when I had been sick. Oh boy, here we go. The next morning I was sure I heard my dad being sick in the bathroom, and I felt so guilty I had passed it on.

It turns out he was fine and hadn't gotten sick, he had just eaten too many chocolates - but still, I felt awful knowing I could have passed it along to my parents. My girlfriend also pointed out I could have gotten my son sick, besides which my getting sick could have prevented me from being able to share parenting time with my son.

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Society has dealt with terrible diseases in the past, and historically the solution has been some form of quarantine. The Old Testament even makes reference to this, declaring that those infected with leprosy must wear certain clothing and announce to those around - "Unclean, unclean". Those who were infected were essentially cast out from society, losing their names; their property; their dignity.

Thankfully, the Church and Her saints have always been willing to step in and place themselves in harm's way in caring for the sick regardless of conditions. Leper colonies were formed by Catholic monastic communities to serve as a refuge and a place where the dignity of these people could be affirmed. Saint Francis is known for meeting a poor leper on the road at the time of his spiritual conversion; he walked up to the man and embraced him as his brother.

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These situations have been on my mind the past couple weeks, in light of the pandemic and universal calls for social distancing and isolation. Keeping spread of infection low is critical, and it's not just about whether I get sick; it's also about whether I then pass it along to others. Until we have better access to testing, we just don't know who is infected but asymptomatic, and whose cough is "the bad cough". We all have a responsibility for the sake of others to keep healthy.

At the same time ... I think we can focus too much on the need to isolate, and forget that we belong to each other in more ways than simply not spreading disease. We can get so wrapped up in the fear of being outside in a space we can't control that we neglect to care for those who can't care for themselves or otherwise can't isolate themselves. I do hate that I got the stomach flu and risked passing it along, but I was also so glad to show Beth and her family just how much love I have for them by being willing to take that on for them.

We need ministries that continue to reach out to offer assistance and support. We need volunteers to make and deliver meals. We need doctors and nurses. We need farmers, electricians, plumbers, grocers, truckers, manufacturers, cleaners, and even politicians. We need priests and deacons to visit hospitals, administer the sacraments and provide counseling, and continue to find creative ways of serving their flocks. We need those who are willing to sacrifice their own safety. We need the saints of our time - we need you.

None of this takes away from the fact that we need to be wise and support those in the medical field by being cautious. There are many paths to holiness; for most, it will look like remaining at home. For some, though, it will look like walking into danger while taking the necessary precautions. The most vulnerable in our society need both kinds.

What am I Working For - Lent Journal (19/40)

Tonight we're discussing the question: what am I working for? 

Confession: I watch the stats of this blog more closely than I should. My intent is to see how successful it is - whether I'm writing about what is going to help others or make a difference. Especially when I'm putting time into this and occasionally staying up late, it can get discouraging to not see any feedback (or not to see anyone read it at all).

Confession number two: I struggle with a need for affirmation and encouragement. I want to make sure I'm helping others in ways that they truly need, but I also struggle with self-doubt and so am constantly seeking feedback to be sure that I'm doing the right thing.

When I started writing on Facebook a few years ago, I was sharing thoughts and feelings that were on my heart - dealing with divorce and anxiety, parenthood and transitioning, and how God was touching my life and hopefully trying to encourage others to grow in their faith and trust in the Lord (as I am still growing in my own). That has especially been the case since conversion. I've found - as a baby-Catholic, the faith is still so new to me and seeing how the entire picture fits together in a beautiful mosaic is so exciting that I can't help but want to share.

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That was the idea of this blog as well - I was receiving compliments about my writing and so wanted to share more. This Lent was a somewhat spontaneous decision to pick it back up, and I felt the Lord asking me to take on this project of writing daily.

I have a list of posts I'd love to write, and I'm glad for the opportunity to share about the faith every day if possible. The beauty of the faith is that the more you share your love for it, the more you find that you love it.

That being said: There is a great risk in any project (especially one that God is calling you to take on) to make it about ourselves. Having made the initial yes, we assume we are doing God's will and are therefore ... almost immune? to being self-centered. After all, if we are doing God's will, we are on the right track.

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I feel the need to point out that in the above five paragraphs I have used the first-person more than twenty times, while referring to God only six times. Unintended though it may be, I don't think I am unique in finding my desires, my plans, my goals getting wrapped up and potentially even superseding God's will. I make God's plan about me.

I guess what I'm saying is: we need to be asking the right questions. Even within a project that is being pursued for the will of God, we need to check ourselves: where does God fit within this? Am I seeking His will? What inspiration is the Holy Spirit offering?

The risk is that we try so hard to be successful that we neglect faithfulness. We assume pursuing God's will is going to directly lead to some miraculous conversion that we forget He is the one in control and granting the grace of conversion. We lose sight of the purpose of faithfulness: sanctity.

Maybe what He is is asking is intended to work on my sense of self-worth: it should be based solely on God's love for me, rather than finding worth in praise and affirmation. Maybe it's about my need for control. Maybe it's about the importance of time management and not getting distracted. Maybe it's about patience - we don't always receive immediate gratification, and sometimes the seeds are planted years in advance of their bearing fruit.

If I am discouraged because of lack of views, it means I assumed God's plan was for lots of views - which may have never been the point.

Perhaps someone will find some benefit or will be changed for the better; perhaps not. In the end that isn't up to me, and I shouldn't concern myself with what God is trying to do. Instead, I should simply trust: God's will is always good even when I can't see the results, and that is enough.

In Time of Desolation - Lent Journal (18/40)

Alright y'all. It's day four (of many) of social distancing. For some that means we've been physically isolated for four days, or our kids have been off of school for a week and unable to see their friends, or we've been working from home in a different environment from what we are used to.

And now we don't have Mass or convenient access to the Sacraments.

I don't know about you but I'm starting to get the itch.

You know the one: the one that brings you to the fridge for the third time this afternoon. Or checking Facebook for the 10th time. Or getting upset with your spouse or kids over things that are unimportant. Or being tempted by some unexpected vice you thought you had moved past.

It's the feeling of being alone or abandoned, losing motivation for things that will give you life and joy. Especially right now when we just don't have a sense of when this will be over and it can be so easy to sit in the darkness.

There is a word for this in the spiritual life: Desolation.

From Saint Ignatius's rules for discernment of spirits [1]:

The fourth rule: I call desolation all the contrary of [Spiritual Consolation], such as darkness of soul, disturbance in it, movements to things low and earthly, the unquiet of different agitations and temptations, moving to want of confidence, without hope, without love, when one finds oneself all lazy, tepid, sad, and as if separated from his Creator and Lord.

I think it's important to know the signs, to recognize it as such, and to understand what to do when confronted with the arid desert of desolation.

I think the instinct is to shrink down, to try to look for an escape - a safe space to wait it out. That's certainly the case for me: feeling discouraged, I decide not to pray tonight after all; or I settle into comfort food to try and make myself feel better. Or I do worse and give into temptations. Which leads to further discouragement, self-accusation, self-condemnation, fear of God's judgment, anxiety, a desire to hide in shame, and darkness. (I speak from far too much past experience)

Because here's the thing: the pump is primed for the Devil to step in and attack us right now. He knows we are weary, we are in foreign territory, we don't have simple access to the Sacraments - especially Confession - and if we fall, the fall will be that much more painful. He's upping his game, and I think strategically it's the opportune time. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.

So I suppose the question is, knowing this is coming, what do we do?

Again, from St. Ignatius [2]:

 The fifth rule: In time of desolation never to make a change; but to be firm and constant in the resolutions and determination ...

The sixth rule: ... it is very helpful intensely to change ourselves against the same desolation, as by insisting more on prayer, meditation, on much examination ...

The seventh rule: Let him who is in desolation ... resist the different agitations and temptations of the enemy; since he can with the Divine help, which always remains to him, though he does not clearly perceive it ...

The eighth rule: Let him who is in desolation labor to be in patience ... let him think that he will soon be consoled ...

So much more that could be said, but in summary: if the Devil is going to up his game, we will just need to step it up as well. Thankfully we are never alone in this battle. We've seen so many beautiful examples over the past week of members of the Church being saints, of priests truly caring for their flocks and the faithful laity being there for each other. Just speaking for the Atlanta young adult community, we're organizing times to video chat and pray together and keep God in the forefront of our minds throughout the day.

When the Eucharist is unavailable - and it's a huge, painful hole - we will just have to find other sources of the grace we need to be the saints He is calling us to be.  Thankfully our Church has a large tool chest filled with thousands of spiritual devotions. God will see us through.

Linking to the creator of this image

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[1] Discerning Hearts Podcast put out a series that covered each rule in a separate episode. Fr. Timothy Gallagher is brilliant and has such a calming voice. https://www.discerninghearts.com/catholic-podcasts/fr-timothy-gallagher-discernment-of-spirits/

[2] I really want to cite all Ignatius's rules, because they are so full of insight from a lifetime of trial and error. https://www.discerninghearts.com/catholic-podcasts/14-rules-of-st-ignatius-of-loyola/

Don't Lose the Hunger - Lent Journal (17/40)

I remember when I was coming into the Church, that hunger to receive the Eucharist. Going to Mass each Sunday (and multiple times during the week), kneeling in the front pew and watching others receive. I vividly remember praying for each of them as they received, that they would know what it was they were doing.

I remember going up to receive a blessing initially, but after awhile just remaining kneeling because it hurt too bad to be that close to my Lord and my Lover without being able to offer Him my body as I received His.

I remember counting the days until receiving Communion:

Three years ago to the day, of course

I remember underlining every line of scripture I could find that would help make that hunger grow:

I remember the sweetness of Adoration, which I must confess I haven't been as consistent about visiting in recent months:

And, of course, I remember the goodness and the tenderness of receiving Him for the first time. And the next. And the time after that. His generosity to me when I am dispense the Chalice, getting to drink down to the dregs. The awe of getting to hand Him to people, watching Him work as He touches the hearts of the faithful and transforms us from within.

If you are feeling pained about Masses being suspended ... I don't know. Part of me wants to just say "good", and leave it at that - because it is a good hunger, and one that should ever be extinguished.

Longing for what is missing leads to appreciation when it is again present.

Friends - If you have been sustained through trials by the graces given in the Eucharist - somehow God will get you through this. I promise you, if He is withdrawing this gift from you it is to give you some deeper love, some greater intimacy with Him. He is helping you walk more closely with those catechumenates and confirmandi who are preparing for their first taste this Easter. He is letting you foster some other devotion or re-evaluate the priorities of your life. He is humbling you to see the extent to which you are dependent on Him. I don't know what He is doing. I just know that we must wait for the Lord, take courage; be stouthearted, wait for the Lord!