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We are being tested. …as a country…as a world…as human beings. The value of life has again been brought harshly into focus through loss and through violence. But just as illness and hate and evil have always persisted, so too has the choice offered in every moment: to Love or not.

Love is an act of will. It is choosing the good of the other, over and above yourself. It is courageous and often difficult. It can be painful. It is transformative. It brings both death (to your ego) and life (to the other). And if it isn’t these things, then even if it may be good, it isn’t Love. Love is a choice…and it is the choice we need to make right now.

Where would we be now if Derek Chauvin had made a choice to Love George Floyd? What if Daniel Pantaleo had made the choice to Love Eric Garner? Suppose Gregory McMichael and his son, Travis, had made a choice to Love Ahmaud Arbery? George, Eric, and Ahmuad would be alive right now. There would be a little less hate…a little less evil.

What if right now, you and I make the decision to Love each other? What if we decide right now, wherever each of us are at this very moment, we commit to Loving the person across from us…and we commit to doing this every moment of the rest of our lives? What would the world look like then?

St. Therese of Lisieux wrote that “the smallest act of pure love is of more value…than all the other works together.” She also said that “Love can accomplish all things.  Things that are most impossible become easy where love is at work.”

No one has the cure for all the illness and evil in our world. No one knows the solution to the persistent injustices that afflict our societies. There is no magic wand or salvific balm that will fix our governments, or establish the right laws, or regenerate our cultures. There is no single answer. But there are 7.8 billion answers.

Each one of us, each human being, needs to commit to Love. Love above all else. We need to approach every moment, looking for the path of love in that situation. And when we find it…we need to have the strength and the courage to follow that path. Even when it is hard…especially when it is hard….we need to act so as to bring about good for the other person. It doesn’t matter if they deserve it. It doesn’t matter if we feel love for them. (In fact it probably matters more when we dislike them or hate them.) It is about choosing to willfully, deliberately, even against our own desires, to Love the person in front of us.

The uneasy, maybe fearful, police officer needs to choose Love when apprehending a suspect. The anxious, maybe weary, politician needs to choose Love when deciding how to vote on a bill. The righteous-filled protester needs to choose Love when demonstrating against an atrocity. The fractious and vilified president needs to choose Love when addressing the wounds of a country.

But beyond these big moments, we need to choose love even in the little moments, the day-to-day moments. When following behind a particularly slow driver, when waiting in line behind a chatty customer at the grocery store, when your colleague takes the credit for your idea, when your spouse lashes out at you for seemingly no reason, when your teenager is ungrateful for the things you do for them…in all these moments and all the others…we need to choose to Love that other person. Our response in every moment needs to be driven by Love.

And while we may be imperfect, and while we may fail as often as we succeed in these attempts to Love, we must never doubt how much better our world can be simply because of our trying to Love.

So while we hold the elections, work on the solutions, and make the transformations, let’s all recognize and declare in one voice that the core of the answer…from the smallest transgression to the most brutal inhumanity…is Love. It is as easy and as impossible as that: The choice…the act…of Love in every moment.

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I’m sitting here on what some call Holy Saturday…or the Easter Vigil…feeling very much the in-betweenness of the day. I am thinking back to those early Christians, and the uncertainty and doubt and fear they must have felt at seeing Jesus crucified. He was supposed to be the Messiah. He was supposed to save everyone. He was supposed to win. But on Saturday, He is dead…in a tomb. And so the Apostles and all the believers are confronted with seemingly shattered beliefs. It seems as though they were wrong, their faith…their beliefs misplaced to the extreme. So the question they most certainly had to wrestle with…is what to do next. Or more importantly…what to believe now. They had to choose.

I am by no means a philosopher or intellectual juggernaut or a theologian…or anything close to those things.  But I try to read some of what those people write…try to get my head around the ideas they articulate and at least play with the ideas they posit.  

The other day, while reading Bishop Robert Barron’s, The Priority of Christ, something struck me, that came back to my mind as I was considering the shattered faith that is represented on this in-between Saturday. In the end…whatever you believe…it comes down to choice.  

Stand up any perspective, any rationale, any philosophy, and yes, any religion or spirituality, and if you push hard enough, the foundation lies in a choice.  You have to accept a premise…a foundation…a cornerstone from which to build…in order to get to the bigger thing. and there is always a counter-argument, a refutation, a seemingly logical alternative explanation or view of the world. At some point in any system of ideas, you have to accept a premise. You have to accept something that is not universally, beyond any possible doubt or counter-argument true. Most people may believe it. It may be agreeable to many different perspctives, philosophies and religions, but it seems to me nothing is absolutely universally recognized as true.

I can trust my senses. Something had to exist first. I think therefore I am. We make our own reality. There is good and evil in the world. All that exists is matter. All of these statements…dare I say beliefs…are premises at the foundation of different idea systems…different ways of viewing the world. You may agree with them all…but none of them are beyond argument…beyond a shadow of a doubt if you will.

Now some might take this as a reason to not believe anything. If nothing can be truly known with absolute certainty, then why bother. It is relativism in the highest order. But even that perspective requires accepting a premise…that nothing can ever be known with absolute certainty…meaning not now and not ever. I would argue that this realization actual demands a different response.

The implication here is not to abandon belief…or live in total skepticism. Rather, I think this compels us…as the knight warned Indiana Jones…to choose wisely.  

There is no “obvious”, a priori, belief system available to us.  We would seem to be pre-programmed…predestined even…to allow choice.  The reality is in fact that we must choose. We have to make a choice. For, as has been so often argued….avoiding a choice…is a choice in itself.

So this leaves us then to choose deliberately…purposefully…thoughtfully. It means putting in the work to make the choice about what to belief…about what to put your faith in. And then we have to take responsibility for that choice…and own it.  

Take for example, parents who teach their children their religious/faith tradition.   There is no question that is a choice. They are deciding what the foundation of thinking will be for their children. This will be the background of thoughts and ideas that they take out int the world. We need to own that choice. Some people try to argue that this is unfair because it biases the child in a certain direction or that it limits their options for how to see the world. Choosing to give a child a foundation that teaches all belief systems are equal or acceptable is also a choice.  There simply is no escaping it. So we need to make these choices deliberately, thoughtfully.

Sometimes I wonder if all the openness and acceptance and the sometimes ferocious non-judgementalism is not simply an escape from the real choice.  I can see it as a welcome escape…and probably not a conscious one for most….but nonetheless…it avoids being wrong…it avoids being judged (to some degree)…it avoids the difficult work of exploring and asking questions and pursuing something that truly convicts you in your soul. That’s what we shoudl all believe in…that way of thinking or perspective or philosphy or religion that feels true deep in our soul. That feels right even after hearing what others may argue against it. What we believe should convict us and should resonate so deep that we are ready to sacrifice for that conviction.

R. O. Quine wrote that “seeking the unambiguous foundations of thought is like looking for places in Ohio that are starting places.”  Bishop Barron extrapolates from this and suggests it all depends on where you happen to be…and where you want to go.  It seems to me this last part is the key…because that is what really guides our choosing.

The place we find ourselves right now, could be due to any number of things beyond our control. What matters…and what will determine our future…or at least what should…is where we want to go. The place we want to arrive at…THAT is our choice.

So if you find yourself in an in-between day. Whether the loss of someone you loved dearly…or a loss of faith…or whether you have just been hit with a dose of reality that seems pretty undeniable…think about where you want to end up. When it is all said and done…where do you want to be. And you must go there recognizing your preconceived ideas and dispositions and quirks…and you must forcibly check them at the proverbial door….and seek truth…honestly…vigorously…no matter how shocking the place where you find it.  

For me, the truth about this world, this life, and about the reason we even exist is found in a tomb…and a manger…and in a temple…and on a cross…and in a Church. For me…it lies in Jesus Christ. The author and actor in the greatest story that no one would have ever predicted.  A crucified Savior…an icon of torture and sacrifice as His symbol…self-less love. This is God…this is the author of Life…this is our Creator…this is our King. Yes, He died on Friday, but He rose on Sunday!

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Sometimes I find it hard to pray. I know prayer is not and should not be all about asking for things. God is no genie in a lamp. But when there are needs, when I see people hurting…I want to pray. And sometimes in these moments, I get stuck between wanting to pray for the right things and praying for the things I want. And no…I’m not talking about struggling between praying for world peace and winning the lottery. It’s that I want to want the right things. Sometimes I get stuck trying to figure out just what the right things are.

My rational mind says that while there are miracles that happen every day (and I absolutely believe that), most people aren’t going to be healed of an incurable disease, for example. And even when it is something like cancer, where there is a chance…at least some probability…of being healed, I am hesitant to pray for healing. My reluctance to ask for such things stems from not wanting to be wrong. And this not pride…at least I don’ think it is. It’s fear. I don’t want to have to wrestle with the implications of my prayers always seeming to be answered with a “no.” What would that say about me? About my relationship with God? About the gap between what seems like a good thing…and what God does? It would imply I don’t know what is best. I don’t know what is right. And that would be a hard realization…even though intellectually I have no doubt it is true.

The Apostle John extols us in one of his letters that when we ask God for things that are in accord with His will, then He will hear us…and then we can have confidence that we have received what we asked (1 John 5:13-15). When I read that, I walk away feeling this pressure to know God’s will. And if I don’t know His will, then what is the point of praying? So at times, as I said, I struggle with prayer. Not knowing what His will is, I settle for prayers that ask Him to send peace and comfort to those who are suffering. I pray that He would give people strength in the midst of pain. I ask that He would be present to those who are hurting and struggling. And there is nothing wrong with these prayers. These are all good things. These are things people need…things we all need. And I believe these are all things God would want for each of us. But in my heart, I know these are safe prayers….generic prayers. They may be good, but they don’t feel right. They don’t ring true in my soul.

So what do I do? How do I pray so that it is both in accordance with His will and yet it also feels true to me…to my soul…to what I want to say. Not surprisingly, I think I found the answer in Jesus.

There are many things one can pull from the story of the Transfiguration, but as I was searching for help with prayer, I think I stumbled on a subtle but powerful detail we often miss.  Moses and Elijah were “talking with Him” (Matthew 17:1-8).  They were just standing there…talking to Jesus.  Yes, they may have “shown like the sun.” But it was still just a conversation. We don’t know what they said, but they were not on their knees…they were not bowed down…they weren’t burning incense or lighting candles.  They were just talking to Him like a regular person. They were talking just like anyone else. That is not sacrilege that is intimacy. Here were two creatures, two creations talking to God. Just standing there talking. I am not sure we need any more encouragement than that to simply talk to God. What more evidence do we want to abandon any need for pomp and circumstance in our prayers.  We can just talk to Him. We can have a conversation…just like we do with everyone else. No fancy words, no fixed structure.  Just talking to Him…straight from our heart.  The difference, is that we know He loves us unconditionally.

But what about needing to know His will? What about the conflict when the thing we want to pray for…whether healing or deliverance or dare we say a miracle…is not His will for that situation? What if he has a different plan from what we want? Can we “just talk to Him” then? Again, I think Jesus gave us the answer.

In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus…fully God and fully Man…prayed. Not only did He pray, but He was anxious in His prayer. In fact, He was so fervent in His prayer, that He was sweating drops of blood (Matthew 26:36-46). But the salient point in this story is what He pray in this moment. He asked to be spared. He asked for a miracle. He asked for a different plan. This was his fully human heart praying to the Father. He knew God’s will. He knew His plan. And yet still He asked if there was another way. He asked God to change His mind….to change his plan. This was Jesus being human. This was Him sharing His heart with the Father. And I believe this was Jesus teaching us how to pray just as explicitly as when He gave us the ‘Our Father.’

And speaking of the ‘Our Father’ (Matthew 6:9-13), the last piece of this prayer puzzle is found right at the beginning. When Jesus showed us how to pray, he began with the Aramaic word, “abba”, which means father. But importantly, we need to recognize that this term was not the formal reference for one’s biological father. This was the term that children would use for their “daddy.” It implies intimacy. It implies love. Jesus us told us to come to the Father like this…assuming intimacy and assuming love.

What we have in these three examples of “prayer”…which most would agree is just a word for talking to God…is God’s answer to my hang up about not being sure how to pray. In all these examples we see that God desires me to come to Him…boldly as a child does to their parent. He wants me to share my unfiltered heart. He wants me to share my “wants” and my fears and all those things that make me anxious or fearful. Whatever is on my heart at the moment, He wants me to bring to Him. I don’t need to pretend or worry that my prayer isn’t “right” or fear I am not asking for His will. He wants me to ask for whatever I truly want…whatever it is I think is the right thing for me or for someone else. He loves me…and so He wants me to come to Him as myself. The God of Truth does not want me to hide my real feelings or to try to be something or someone else. He wants my heart, my thoughts, my will. And if I do that…if I am honest and real and true, then He can teach me about Himself. Then He can show me more than what I am seeing at the moment. Then…and maybe only then…can I see the miracles that are happening…even while the answer to my prayer is “no.”

“Our prayers may be awkward. Our attempts may be feeble. But since the power of prayer is in the one who hears it and not the one who says it, our prayers do make a difference.”

― Max Lucado, He Still Moves Stones

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We all want to be loved. I firmly believe there is no greater desire…no greater need…in a human being. I believe the need to be loved is even stronger than self-preservation…the need to survive. And I believe it is for that reason that we have evolved into such a sexual culture. Because we need to be loved so deeply, we can be easily manipulated by sex. Sexual images, sexual messages, from commercials to toys, sex is all around us.  And it’s clear from all the language we use around sex. We want to be wanted, to be desired…to be lusted after. Cheap Trick had it right, “I want you to want me.” We interpret passionate, lustful desire as self-worth.  It validates us…if only briefly.  The need for love is so strong, that we easily ignore or look past or are completely blind to the fact that this desiring, this wanting, this lusting really just makes us objects to be exploited or used. We are not truly desired…not truly wanted. If we were, then the other person, would want us not for what we can give them or do for them (i.e. make them feel good…make them feel wanted).  They would want to say or do whatever is best for us…regardless of the benefit, or the cost, to them. I dare say most of the sexual intimacy that happens in our culture today is not about the kind of love we really want. Its a Band-Aid…a quick fix…a welcomed balm.  It lures us all one way or another.  When you have a hole in you needing to be filled, you welcome the spoonful of water…even though the parched confines of your heart will evaporate it before it even reaches bottom. The truth is…and it only makes sense…that no person can fill this need to be loved…and neither can anything else. The need is too great, the selflessness that is needed is too difficult to be sustained forever…at least by us.  As Pascal so beautifully captured:

“What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there once was in man a true happiness of which now remain to him only the mark and empty trace, which he in vain tries to fill from all his surroundings, seeking from things absent the help he does not obtain in things present. But these are all inadequate, because the infinite abyss can only be filled by an infinite and immutable object, that is to say, only by God Himself.”  ~Blaise Pascal, Pensees

The reality is that we are already loved…we are already desired more than we could ever want and more than we could ever imagine…certainly more than any human being could desire us or want us or love us. But of course that takes Faith to believe….because the paradox is that until we see it…until we accept it…we likely won’t feel it.

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Sin sometimes feels like gravity. When I find myself confronted by the aftermath of another selfish outburst, like I did today, and I’m beyond frustrated that yet again I did exactly what I said I wouldn’t do…sin sometimes feels inevitable. It sometimes feels like sin has won. It has its hooks in me and there is nothing I can do to escape it…just like gravity. It’s always there…and I am always subject to it. It seems like this inescapable force that keeps pulling back into old ways, bad habits, or just lazy, selfish behavior. And when things are really bad, when I feel I am in this cycle of bad decisions, sin can truly feel hopeless. No matter what I do, how determined I am, or how hard I work to be different…I keep falling back down. Sometimes I think…why bother?…what’s the point?

Recently I finished a story on Audible (www.audible.com…what they label an Audible Original) called, “The Man Who Knew the Way to the Moon”. As the title hints, the story is about the monumental role one particular, largely unknown, man played in the success of the Apollo 11 mission. But what jumped out at me, at least in the wake of me having screwed up yet again, was the discussion of a perennial challenge faced by all space missions–achieving escape velocity.

Escape velocity is the speed at which an object must travel to break free of a planet or moon’s gravitational force. It’s the speed need to break free from what feels like an inevitability to most of us…gravity. To put this in some kind of context, the speed needed to break free from Earth’s gravity is over 25,000 miles per hour. That kind of speed requires a lot of energy. And that’s why for most of us, gravity feels inevitable. At best, we flirt with escape. With the aid of machines like airplanes or hang gliders we can spend extended time off the ground. And individually, with some momentum and a good jump, we can enjoy may a fraction of a second of self-propelled freedom from the earth’s pull. But in the end, gravity wins. What goes up, has to come down.

Maybe because of my frame of mind at the time, but the connection between the pull of sin and the problem of overcoming Earth’s gravity hit me like a 50 foot neon sign in the middle of the desert. So I read a little bit more about escape velocity. What I learned is that escaping earth’s gravity really comes down to two things: how much you are carrying with you (size and payload) and how much energy (fuel) you have. The more stuff you are trying to take with you into space (and thus the bigger the rocket or spaceship), the more resistance there is and the more energy it requires. This is why one of the constant initiatives within any space program is the development of lighter, less cumbersome space vehicles and the simultaneous developing of more efficient and longer lasting fuel sources. We need to make attaining escape velocity easier. I need to make escaping sin’s “gravity” easier too.

One key step is carry less stuff with me. I know a bunch of Christian authors, as well as many spiritual writers in other belief systems, have written about this. I think it boils down to both some materially and spiritually practices. Materially, I need to not be too attached to stuff…to the things of this world. So often our frustrations and selfishness revolve around stuff we claim ownership of…things that are ours such as our time, our money, our plans, etc. When something imposes on them or threatens to take them away, I get defensive…protective…selfish. The solution is, as I once heard someone prescribe it, to hold things with an open hand rather than with a clenched fist. This is figurative of course, but the idea is that we should be thankful for…and enjoy…what God provides, but also be ready and willing to let Him take something away whenever He deems it best for us.

Spiritually, I need to travel liter by not carrying guilt and past mistakes with me. When I feel guilty…when I feel inadequate…when I feel like a failure…its at these moments that I tend to be most defensive…most self-protective…most selfish. I don’t want others to remind me of how flawed am…or how much I’ve messed up. And so long as I feel unworthy and unloved, I am not going to be able to aspire to more…to aspire to be better. The guilt and shame ways me down. Thankfully, as a Catholic, the Sacrament of Reconciliation provides a very tangible way to reclaim an awareness of God’s love for me, not to mention a practical way to leave all my mistakes in the past. But I can also lighten my load simply by getting on my knees and asking God to forgive me and asking Him to take away the guilt and shame. It’s easier to escape when the chains aren’t holding you down.

Secondly, even when I’m less encumbered by material things or the guilt of past mistakes, I still need fuel. The lighted spacecraft in the world won’t escape the Earth’s gravity unless something propels it upward. What I need is transformative energy, and I think I’ve pretty much established that I am not able to generate that kind of energy on my own. I need God. I need His strength…his energy. I need Him to change me…to propel me. an for me, I think the biggest change that implies is that I need to be in a place to receive it. I need to be in prayer every day. I need to be reading Scripture. I need to be looking expectantly for His guidance in my life….from friends….from family…from strangers, and from circumstances. There is no question about whether He has enough power. The issue is whether I am ready to receive it. Am I on the launchpad…am I ready to let him propel me into His orbit. There are lots of ways to get here, but they all require my being deliberate…and being focused on my relationship with Him. He needs to be a priority in my life.

So…while I may not be a rocket scientist…nor a saint at this point…the bottom line seems to be that if I truly want to escape the pull of sin in my life, I need to let go of “stuff”, engage with God a bit more, and let Him propel me. Otherwise I don’t think my efforts to change have any chance of getting off the ground.

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I know it is a bit cliché to reboot a blog on January 1. All the hackneyed exhortations to “start fresh” or “start over”, the seemingly hollow promises of the new year being a “clean slate”…they all seem to carry in them a bit of pessimism that undercuts a goal right from the start. And I have to admit, I don’t like playing into a cliché. I feel foolish or stupid, though truthfully that is mostly because I fear other people will judge it to be foolish or stupid.

Then there is the fear of failure itself. Sure you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, but if you didn’t take the shot, you can still cling to the belief that you would have made it if you did take it. However, if you actually do take the shot and you miss it…well…there’s no hiding. the consequences are there for all to see. And that’s always a worry when we declare a goal, map out a plan, or set out on a different course…what if we don’t make it? What if we don’t reach our goal? Failing would seem to prove once and for all that our goals are out of reach. The hope of actually making a change or making things better or making a difference would be shattered. Or maybe even worse, what if we do reach the goal? If we succeed there are no more excuses, no more “what’s ifs” to hide behind. What if we succeed and no one cares? What if our success and the changes we make or the things we have created don’t matter to anyone else? What if instead of fanfare we hear crickets?

One way or another, fears like these and thinking like this has limited me throughout my life. Worrying about what others think has sadly driven many decisions, and indecisions, over the years.

Nonetheless, fears, cliche’s, and stories of half-hearted attempts at change can’t erase the truth. We may choose to avoid the truth (out of fear), but we can’t deny it’s veracity.

Each day, whether the first of the month or the 13th, is a new day. Nothing is pre-determined, nothing is robotically compelled within us. We get to choose. Sure the past may not be erased and all our mistakes may not be forgotten, but we still get a new chance each morning to make different choices…better choices. From the simpliest of decisions, like getting out of bed, to the more challenging, such as how we greet the person who undermined us in the meeting yesterday…we get to decide what we do, what we say, and even what we think.

The reality is God has given each of us great power. He has given us the dignity of causation…of agency. We can make choices and our choices have consequences…for good or evil. And while at times this free will can feel more like a curse than a blessing, it is nonetheless ours to bear. There is no getting around it and no escaping it. Even abandoning ourselves to some external authority and blindly following someone else’s orders is still a choice…and it is a choice for which we are accountable. As the now overused Uncle Ben quote (from Spiderman) extolls, “with great power, comes great responsibility.”

And so for me that responsibility…that gift…that God-given charge…is to live courageously. Not necessarily without fear, but not in subservience to it. It means to live deliberately…to own my choices. It means no excuses for what I haven’t done or what I haven’t attempted, but also no excuses for my failures. My free will means that my life is defined by my choices. No… I can’t control fires or floods, accidents or attacks, firings or market crashes…but I can control my response. I can control what I do with these circumstances…what I do in these situations. I determine what it I I bring into this world. I decide on my contribution. Learning to do this is my resolution.

Each day…each moment is a new beginning. Regardless of the choice yesterday or a second ago, I have a new choice to make right now. The past is set, but this moment forward is unwritten. And in that sense it is a clean slate…it is a fresh start. And with no moment beyond this one guaranteed, the question is…what will I do with this moment? What will you do with yours?

So here it is. Blog #1 of 2020. Who knows if I’ll be successful? Who knows if this will make a difference? But either way…I’ve made a choice to begin again.

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With the cooler temperatures finally hanging around and with Thanksgiving just ahead, my thoughts inevitably turn toward Christmas.  I know for some it is too early, and admittedly I twitch just a little when I hear the first few Christmas commercials.  But I do love Christmas, and so it actually doesn’t take me long to turn the switch and get into the swing of things.
Personally, our family’s tradition is that we usually start decorating the weekend before Thanksgiving….give or take a few days depending on what is going on at that point in our lives.  I tackle the outside of the house, while my wife and daughter transform the inside.  
Now we do a decent little display in the front yard.  Hopefully nothing that qualifies for the once dubious and now touted label of “tacky,” though I appreciate this is ultimately in the eye of the beholder.  But we keep it relatively simple.  We have some lighted deer, a sleigh, some lighted trees, icicles outlining the porch roof, and then a star nestled near the peak of the house.  Last year we added some lights in the hedges.  Definitely nothing Clark Griswold would consider proper exterior illumination, but we like it.   Now what we don’t have are inflatable Santas or snowmen or red nosed reindeer.  No glowing presents or animated skating penguins.  But also no “Jesus is the Reason” sign or multi-figured illuminated nativity or animatronic wise men.  We have always quite deliberately chosen the more subtle testament to the reason for the season…the main component being the Star of Bethlehem that we place at the peak of the house.  But toward the end of the Christmas season last year, I started thinking…What is the point of the decorating?  Why do we do it?
On one hand, we decorate because Christmas is a celebration.  We decorate as a sign of being festive and joyful.  It is a time of family and friends, of happiness and cheer.  And so just as we decorate for birthdays or other holidays, we decorate for Christmas.  Another reason, I think, is that we decorate to transform our world, at least temporarily, into something different.  We decorate to give things a new look….a sign that this time is different than other times.  We put up lights and hang signs and put out candles and other ornaments to not only help things look different, but to help us be different.  It is challenging for even the biggest Scrooges to not feel at least a little more upbeat and hopeful and kind and generous when you see the bright lights and happy symbols of Christmas.

But ultimately, I think we decorate in order to make a statement. Now I am not saying we do this consciously, but ultimately, I think this is what we are doing…and why we share it with others.  We decorate because we want to show others that this matters to us…that it is important to us.  Now I realize for some what they are saying matters is time with family, or the generosity embodied in Santa Claus, or the wonder and magic associated with this time of year.  And those things are important to me too.  But for those of us who recognize Jesus Christ as the King of Kings and Lord of Lords…as Our Creator and Savior…our statement ultimately should be…and needs to be…about Him.

More than anything, Christmas should be about the incredible, almost unbelievable, Love that God demonstrated through the gift of His Son.  It is a time of declaring from the rooftops…and from our lawns, windows, and mantels that each of us are Loved…that each of us matters…and that ultimately…Love wins.  Of all the days in the year, Christmas is the time we are given the most permission to speak of Him publicly, to share His Love with others openly and directly.  It is a time when miracles and mysteries are celebrated…and hearts are the most willing to believe.

And because of this, I really believe that we need to be a bit bolder in our celebrating…and our decorating.  We need to seize this opportunity and allow the message of Love…the true reason for this season (and all seasons)…to shine through.

Now, I don’t say this to suggest that we need to bombard people with heavy messages of “repent and be saved” or that everyone needs to get a giant illuminated “Jesus is the Reason” sign for their yard (not that there is anything wrong with that).   I still very much appreciate the wisdom of the adage often misattributed to St. Francis, “Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” People generally don’t like to be preached at, much less told they are sinful and need to be saved.  So that isn’t what I am suggesting.  As I think Pope Francis has very powerfully argued, when we experience the true Love of God the Father, our failings, shortcomings, weaknesses, and flaws become apparent to us…and we desire repentance.   In other words, once we know Love, then those things that are not rooted in Love become obvious…and we want to change them.  The first step, however, is to feel Loved.

So my point here is that as we all embark on another Christmas season, we should consider how we are contributing to the message of God’s Love that so permeates the Christmas Story.  No doubt an important part of that is decorating.  And while yes, this absolutely means decorating our lives…our attitudes…our spirits…with kindness and joy and generosity.   It also means, I think, that we should make sure that along with all the other exterior, material symbols of Christmas, we are sure to include the most beautiful and powerful symbols of Christmas….those pointing explicitly to God’s Gift…to God With Us…to a child in a manger.  Who knows…maybe for some, the only opportunities they will have to “hear” that message is in the Nativity displayed in your front yard, or the star hung on your front door, or the Kneeling Santa displayed on your mantel.  Ultimately, maybe these decorations will be the tool that God uses to pierce through whatever barriers are in a person’s life and to carry His message of Love to that person.  Maybe….just maybe…we should adapt that old adage and give it a Christmas flair:  “Preach the Gospel at all times. Use Christmas Lights when possible.” 

And early Merry and Blessed Christmas to all of you!

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Have you ever opened the refrigerator and immediately had a bunch of things racing eachother to tumble out…flinging liquid all along the way into places you can’t imagine being reachable? Or what about finding that the house you spent the day cleaning for a party now somehow appears to be even filthier than before you cleaned it….and to top it off at least two things are now broken? Or have you ever been nagged by your child (or niece, nephew, younger sibling, cousin, etc.) to play with them while your trying to get something important done?

We are all faced with these kinds of frustrations. Stuff continually confronting us…compelling us…through guilt or obligation or whatever…demanding that we spend time and energy to accomplish whatever it is. I don’t think too many people would argue that the number of frustrations each of us face on a daily basis can be down right crushing sometimes. We have all heard the expression, “No one ever said life was going to be easy.” Often that seems like a cruel understatement.

Well…the other day I was having exactly one of those kind of days. From the moment I woke up, I was plowing through a ridiculously long list of things to do. No sooner did I get one done that something new got added to the list. Cook breakfast, clean up from the night before, fix the computer, walk the dog, prepare the meat for grilling later, get showered, get dressed for church….it went on and on. And yes, while all this was going on, the leaning tower of Tupperware in the refrigerator came tumbling down, my daughter was continually asking “is it time yet” for us to finish our game of Monopoly, and I was feeling more and more overwhelmed as the morning droned on. I just wanted to relax, but instead I grew more and more frustrated that I had all this stuff to do…and I kept getting interrupted. It was maddening. That is…until this series of thoughts pierced through my cluttered mind….

I am frustrated because my refrigerator is too full. I am frustrated because I have too many friends. I am frustrated because my child wants to spend too much time with me.

Suddenly, all these frustrations didn’t sound so horrible. In fact, now I suddenly felt foolish. How misplaced were my priorities? How blind was I that I could not appreciate all the blessings staring me…or maybe slapping me…in the face?

Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Ephesians 5:19b-20

It is so easy to get caught up in the day-to-day business of life. That’s probably why time seems to move so quickly…our focus is not on the experience of the moment, but on accomplishing the task at hand so we can move to the next one. Life tends to focus us on getting stuff done rather than fully living each moment. And as a consequence, we fail to appreciate all the reminders that God loves us….that He cares about us individually…that we are His children…and that He desires our good…each and every moment of our lives. All the evidence is right there in front of us. Blessings hidden in “to dos”.

Thank you, Father, for your constant whispers of love. Thank you for surrounding me with reminders of just how much You love me. Thank you for all the blessing in my life…those I see and recognize…and maybe especially those I don’t. And forgive me for all those I don’t see…or choose not to see. Open my eyes, Father, to what is real all around me. Make apparent all Your gifts…all Your Love. And let me live today more joyfully than I did yesterday. Afterall, this is the day You have made. Let me rejoice and be glad in it! (Psalm 118:24)

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Have you ever wondered how much you really love someone? Or perhaps more likely, have you ever wondered how much someone really loves you? I have been thinking about this lately (both questions really), and as is often the case, I think the answer lies in something I already “knew” but never really allowed to transform my thinking.

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:13)

If you want to know how much you love someone (or how much someone loves you), you have to measure it in death. Are you willing to die for this person? Now before we drift off into imagining some heroic act of selflessness, like pushing someone out of the way of an oncoming train or volunteering to take someone’s place so that they live instead of you (a la Maximilian Kolbe…or if you prefer, Katniss Everdeen), that isn’t really the kind of death I mean…or that I think Jesus means.

On one hand, yes…we should be willing to physically die for those we love. And I don’t want to minimize the difficulty and anguish that comes with physical pain and suffering. But I think sometimes…and maybe most of the time…the tougher measure is not would we die for them, but how often would we die for them. And right there, that implies some other kind of dying (as most of us only physically die once).

The death I am talking about here is the kind of death you feel when you seek forgiveness, even though you don’t believe you really did anything wrong. The kind of death that occurs when you bite our tongue instead of pointing out that their great idea wasn’t really theirs, but was actually yours. It is the death that happens every time you choose against your own self interest…your own desire…in favor of someone else’s. It is a death of the self….of the ego. And in many ways, I think this is the harder kind of death…because it isn’t one and done, but something that repeats over, and over, and over.

Ultimately it is about being selfless, about putting someone else’s needs or wants ahead of your own. And really that is what love is…what true love is. It is about the other person. As I am sure you have heard, love is not just a feeling. And love is not about how someone makes you feel, or what they do for you. No, love is about what we do for them. And so the measure of that love is death. Are we willing to die for them….not just once, but over and over. Because as we all know, the opportunities to fight against (and ultimately “kill”) our selfishness, our ego, are abundant….and daily. But that’s what it is all about. If we truly love someone, that is, if care about them more than we care about ourselves (and that’s what all those Valentine’s cards say, right?!), then we should be willing to endure whatever pain we need to, in order to allow them to have their need met or their want realized. Our happiness, our joy, should be found in bring them happiness and joy. But then, that is easier said then done.

Why? Why is it so hard to let someone think we are wrong when in fact we know we are not? Why is it so difficult to humbly seek forgiveness for whatever offense someone feels we brought against them, even if whatever we did was unintentional or the other person is only offended because they are being overly sensitive? Why are we so unwilling to put in the work necessary to change that thing about ourselves that frustrates the other person? And why are we so quick to reject the idea that we should have to do any of this?

The bottom line is that we are selfish creatures. Our default setting is to take care of ourselves first and foremost. And with that comes the desire to avoid things that are painful or uncomfortable. In other words…our first instinct in almost every situation is to avoid pain…to avoid death. And so when it comes time to love, to those acts of selflessness…of choosing someone else over ourselves…of deliberately choosing the suffering that goes along with self-denial…well…those moments…those actions..just don’t feel right to us. That choosing against our self, that dying to self that is the measure of love just feels wrong. It’s almost like we are programmed to not love. But that’s a lie. That is our rationalizing, sinfulness talking. Love is a choice, but it is one we have been freed in order to choose. It is the choice that ultimately leads to our greatest happiness. But there is no denying, loving means dying. The more we do it…the more more we die…the more we love.

Father God, sometimes my soul feels like it is literally screaming when I try to deny what I want for the sake of someone else. And it is even worse when my “choice” in the situation is only to not resist or fight against what may be the other person’s selfishness. I see that love…Your Love…is about giving…and sacrificing…and dying. But also see that it doesn’t stop there. Because what we always seem to find on the other side of that dying to self, is life. When we love, we often find that we are loved. When we give, we find that we receive. We when allow ourselves to be last, we find that we are the first to realize that being first isn’t what matters. Yes there is death, but there is also resurrection! Please, Father, continue to transform my thinking…and my acting. Let me die…as you died, so that I can love….as You Love.

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As I watch my parents getting older, I see them struggling to accept the changes that inevitably come. There is no doubt the ailments and physical challenges can be tough to deal with, but I think the worst of it all, is really the loss of control. Whereas once they could go anywhere and do anything….they’re limited now. Some of it is psychological, limits they put on themselves such as the realization that your body is kind of doing its own thing now and so public settings suddenly have a lot more variables. But the bulk of it is the undeniable, no getting around it, reality that you literally can’t do some things anymore. If you can’t drive, you are suddenly dependent on others to get to the grocery store or the pharmacy or a restaurant. As you lose strength and dexterity, you can’t reach the dish on the top shelf of the cabinet or move the chair to clean up the spill…or even get down to the spill to clean it up. Even the most basic things like getting to the bathroom in your own home can become a significant challenge. And so I see this, and I empathize, and I think how awful that must be. But then I realize…

 

The idea that we are in control is a lie. At least the idea that we are as in control as we think we are. We are like children whose parent lets them hold the steering wheel or drive the boat or take the controls of the airplane. At that moment, we literally are steering or flying. And we very quickly believe that we are keeping the car safely on the road or we are keeping the boat afloat…or the plane in the air. But it’s obvious to all of us we picture that scenario…these children are not really in control. One false move from another car on the road, or one rogue wave, or one mechanical failure in the engine, and suddenly whatever control we had is ripped away.

 

Think about it. Don’t we all walk around feeling/believing we can direct our own path? But really, how much control do we really have? We can’t prevent that natural disaster from tearing apart our lives. We can’t prevent cancer or some other disease from ravaging our body. We can’t prevent evil…and those possessed by such evil…from hurting ourselves or our loved ones. Heck, we can’t even guarantee our next breath. If we could, many of us would choose to go on breathing forever.

 

Now don’t get me wrong. This isn’t some manifesto bent on denying free will. When that child is holding the steering will, they are driving. One quick turn of that wheel would have real consequences. And we can certainly make choices that impact our lives for better or worse….and the lives of others. We are responsible for our actions. What we say and do does have consequences. But I think there is wisdom…and valuable humility…in coming to grips with the fact that we are not really in control…or the control we do have is very limited. We are fragile creatures and we are dependent on a host of things over which we have zero control. And that is OK.

 

I think so much of our angst…our frustration…our anger and bitterness…is rooted in the lie that we have control. We should be able to have what we want, to make this or that happen, to realize this or that experience in our lives. We just have to work harder, or get to know the right people, or earn enough money, or whatever. We can do it. Or so we believe. And obviously our experience shows us…people do accomplish things. But what we fail to recognize when we see someone receiving an award or sitting on their yacht or accomplish a goal…is that there were a million other things that had to happen…that had to line up…for that person to be in that position. And of that million, 999,999 were out of their control…and probably not even things they were conscious of…or could have been conscious of even if they tried.

 

So where does this leave us? For me, there is actually comfort in this. I know how easily my own life can suddenly seem overwhelming. So many things to do and seemingly so little time to do them. And these are just the things that I am aware of…that I have some modicum of control over. But I can appreciate there are thousands of things that I don’t even think about that are impacting my life and the lives of those who I love. I know there are people who don’t believe there is a God. People who think this all just kind of happened…this life we live. But to be honest, if I believed that life was just a fortunate accident or cosmic event, I would be scared as hell or very likely would have a mental breakdown. Despite the laws of the universe, that would still feel too chaotic. No, I believe we are made for order, we desire order. We are ok not being in control, so long as we know there is someone in control. And I don’t mean that in some Orwellian or Huxleyan sense. I think we all have the knowledge that we are creatures…and of our Creator…written in us. And that knowledge is there in part to remind us that we are not in control and maybe even more importantly that we don’t need to be.

 

I believe life is much better recognizing that we are like that child, sitting on our Father’s lap, and He is giving us the steering wheel. He let’s us decide where to go. He allows us to direct our lives. And He will completely take His hands off the steering wheel if we want. And as we grow He will even let us work the gas pedal. But He is also willing to help steer, to offer directions, to suggest the best way to go and some great places to see. Yet He does allow us to slip into the belief that we are completely in control. As we get more and more distracted by the thrill of driving, He continues to keep things out of our path, ensures we have enough gas to keep going, and keeps the car running mechanically, all behind the scenes…never forcing us to recognize that we are really only still going because He enables us to do so. But it is precisely because we allow ourselves to believe we are in control, that life can get so scary. No matter how much God allows us to do without seeing Him and no matter how well we ‘steer’ our lives, the fact is that we are regularly confronted with events that we would not have chosen. And at those moments, we are forced to recognize once again…we are not in control. But the fact that we are not in control does not mean that we are out of control. For just as there are constant reminders that we are subject to things over which we have no control, there are constant signs that there is a plan. Life is not haphazard or chaotic. There is purpose. Maybe the greatest thing over which we do have control, is our willingness to accept the reality, that we are not in control…and to thank God that we are not.

Thank you, Father, for life…for allowing me to make choices…for allowing me to decide the person I am becoming. But thank You also, for saving me from myself, for providing me the opportunities to remember that I am a creature who is loved by his Creator….and that while life is so much bigger than me…it is not bigger than You.