Preparing the Victim

From The Fathers of the Church, St. Jerome's Commentary on Matthew:

"Mt 26:3-4 :   Then the chief priests and elders of the peopple were gathered in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas. And they took counsel that they might seize Jesus by means of deceit and kill him. 

With the Passover near, those who should have been preparing victims, making smooth the walls of the Temple, sweeping the pavement, cleansing the vessels, and purifying themselves in accordance with the rite of the Law, that they might become worthy to eat the lamb, are gathered together and enter into counsel to determine how to kill the Lord."

Now that it is Holy Week, if we have not been to Confession, this is the time of year which obligates us to go in order that we may meet the other obligation; to receive Holy Communion once during the Easter Season.  It is a time of preparation, it is a time of cleansing, a time of serious self-examination. 

None of us are worthy to partake in the Sacrifice of the Divine Victim, but He offers Himself and He invites us to enter into His Passion. 

But we have a choice;  we can either be like the chief priests and elders who plotted evil, or we can choose to leave the  obscurity of deceit and speak out loud those things that have kept us in the darkness of sin. 

For only if we are cleansed through the Sacrament of Confession can we truly enter into the Passion and receive the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Lamb of God. 

Entering Into the Passion of Christ

From today's Office of Readings:

I will say more: we must sacrifice ourselves to God, each day and in everything we do, accepting all that happens to us for the sake of the Word, imitating his passion by our sufferings, and honoring his blood by shedding our own. We must be ready to be crucified. 

~ from a homily by St. Gregory Nazianzen, bishop

Pilgrim - Chapter 4

(All chapters are found on one page here. Scroll down to start at the beginning.) 

I was almost in complete agony, knowing that God was calling me to something...but what?  I didn't have a spiritual director, couldn't find one, so all I could do was write, pray, and hope. God had a plan...He HAD to have a plan!  

At that time, I was no longer considering religious life.  Even though it seemed maybe the door wasn't entirely closed, I wasn't attracted to the life, and in fact, the very IDEA was an effective repellant.  It wasn't like I didn't appreciate it, only that it wasn't for me.  

Last summer, I went to Ohio to visit friends, and because I was so cut off from my usual routine, the effect was as though I was at a retreat of sorts. The morning after I arrived, my friend and hostess asked me candidly about religious life. I definitively told her that I was NOT called to it.  She seemed a little surprised and disappointed, but supportive.  

Those few days, there in Ohio, were amazing. Our prayer, our conversations, our activities were all directed towards God.  I visited the Lourdes Shrine in Euclid Ohio, where five of us (two priests and 3 lay women) prayed the rosary and Daytime Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours.  

The next day we went to the Vatican Splendors exhibit in Cleveland, and the one moment that stands out most clearly was stopping in my tracks, staring at a gold jewel-encrusted papal chalice.  It wasn't the ornate workmanship of the chalice that overwhelmed me; it was what it had contained:  the Most Precious Blood of Christ.  For a moment, I was lost in that fact. It was the most important thing in the world.  For a moment, the crowds around me, my friends...none of it mattered. Only that.  The only reality was the sacrifice of Christ, outpouring His own blood for our salvation.  Personally.  

That evening we attended Mass together, and a few things came together, as though the previous days had only been preparation to open the doors of my heart to God's REAL message for me.   

I mentioned that two of the friends in the Ohio group were (and remain!) priests. One of them was Pastor at the parish where we attended Mass, and it seemed it was even more meaningful because I'd been praying for him for so long...and had only just met him in person on the day of my arrival.  But it wasn't him I heard as he proclaimed the Gospel...it was Christ.  And he gave an amazing, eloquent homily that convicted me even further.  After Communion I knelt, unable to stop the tears.  I looked upon the altar, where he and our other priest friend were offering Communion, and realized what a gift this was. I realized that I was home. 

It wasn't the place. It wasn't even the people. It was the MASS.  For so long I'd realized I was a pilgrim on this earth, especially having read the Letter to Diognetus, which I now pretty much take as my anthem.  BOTH priests, that weekend, spoke of their joy in their Vocation, and emphasized their love of Christ, encouraging us all to be willing  to follow Him without reserve, wherever He was calling us. 

Maybe I was more open to the message God had for me because it was delivered through priests I knew and trusted as personal friends.  Or maybe it was the situation, being removed from my own comfort zone but placed firmly into God's own arms, without a doubt.  

In case there is any curiosity about the reading of that Sunday:  it was the parable of the Pearl of Great Price and the Treasure in the Field.  

I didn't know that when the trip was set up.  But God did. And He had a plan.  

While I was there, I said nothing to my friends. I had to take some time to think about what had happened.  My big "moment" happened at the Vigil Mass, but we attended Mass with the other priest the next day, and his own words and witness served to emphasize what it seemed God was saying the evening prior.  

On one hand, I did want to talk about what I'd experienced, but on the other hand...I couldn't. And really, maybe it's proper that I didn't.  As Mary did, I had to "ponder it in my heart".  

Just as she said to the Angel Gabriel, so did I ask, "How can this be?" 

What happened to me, you ask?  God.  God happened. Jesus spoke to me in a manner so deep and personal that it had no words, only understanding. 

 I realized that I'd been running away from Him for a very long time, and it was time to stop running.  I was a pilgrim. And as a pilgrim, I have no home on this earth.  The closest any of us can get to Home is the Mass, and if that's true, if the Sacrifice of Christ is true, then why WOULDN'T I be willing to leave everything?

After all, I'd left everything for that weekend.  What if I never went back?  What if it was place to remain there, in the presence of Christ?  What if I let EVERYTHING go? 

It wasn't so scary. I knew that in Christ, I'd have everything I truly need. And for the first time, I heard that He saw ME as "the pearl of great price". I'd never heard that before.  Yet, when I looked at the crucifix, I knew it was true.  Jesus went to the cross because he thought I was worth it. I thought of the fact that my birthstone is the pearl...even through my very birth, Christ gave me a revelation of my own value in His eyes.  

It's hard to accept that kind of love, and I didn't know if I could.  I wanted that kind of love, and I want to GIVE that kind of love.  

A few days after I returned home, I sent an email to my friends and let them know that I think God is calling me to religious life.  I went to my own Pastor, met with him, and noted he didn't seem a bit surprised (not that he ever does, actually, but his lack of surprise this time had a note of even more of a lack of surprise!)  Another priest at my parish told me that there would be doubts...always. But to get through them.  

And there have been doubts, serious doubts. Even attacks.  I've been praying hard, trying to discern God's will in all of this, and at this point, it seems that I am being called to consider not an active/contemplative community, but a cloister. All I desire is the Cross. Even as I tell Christ that I cannot drink of the same cup, I know that if it is what He calls me to do, He will give me the grace. 

I'm still in need of conversion. My life is still a mess, and were it not for the Sacraments, I'd still be lost.  

It's nice to have a purpose, though. It's nice to know that in spite of doubts, I have a plan. I've decided that, no matter what, I'm going forward with that plan, even though it will be difficult.  In all actuality, it's impossible.  

But God wil provide.  All I have to commit to is one step at a time. One step, along this Via Crucis, one designed especially for me out of the depths of God's love. 

Conversion...discernment. It all has blended into a unitive mass.  Ultimately it's all about one thing:  pursuing Christ.  Pursuing holiness. 

We so often write pithy poetry about chasing the elusive rainbow and finding a pot of gold to satisfy our material nature. Yet it seems impractical to pursue the shadow of the Cross, to walk it's length, knowing that when we arrive we will not be receiving treasure, but rather offering ourselves for crucifixion in a very real and agonizing sacrifice.  

I am a pearl. An unformed, misshapen pearl, constantly being formed through trial and time.  Right now, I am worth nothing to Our Lord, but He doesn't look at us in terms of what we are right now. He calls us according to what He has chosen us to become, and invites us to participate in that call through cooperation with His grace.   

I only hope that, when the time comes, I have lived a life that brings me into the refuge of the Blood that was shed for me, and I pray that precious blood changes my misshapen form into the pure and perfected pearl of great price, for which Our Lord so willingly entered His Passion, Death, and Resurrection. 

This is an ongoing story. Conversion is NEVER complete. We fall away through sin, we return, we grow, we regress.  But God is faithful, even as we are not.  

I am, and we all are, works in progress. All we can do is entrust ourselves to God's Mercy and do our best to cooperate with Him.  

Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.  Amen. 

*

Fin

Pilgrim - Chapter 3

(click for Chapter 1 and Chapter 2)

I got into a cycle of regular Confession, never missed Mass, and my friends invited me to go to daily mass with them.  But I never did. I never even darkened the door of the Adoration Chapel, being entirely clueless as to why I should.  

Proposal

Then, one February day, I think it was during Lent, for some reason I couldn't go to work. I hated my job, was completely stressed out, and that morning I was in tears just THINKING about work. But I wasn't sick so got up and went through the morning routine, knowing I needed to go. When it came time to leave, though, I couldn't get through the door. I couldn't open it. Something was telling me to STAY HOME.  I thought I was being ridiculous, certainly I needed to go to work!  But I was so emotionally distraught that I realized it was time for a "mental health" day, so I called in and said I was sick. I guess that was actually true, even though I didn't understand the nature of my "sickness."  

There was ONE place I DID want to go, though;  to the Adoration Chapel.  I wanted to go visit Jesus. I hoped He could give me the remedy for what was ailing me. Somehow, I knew I had to spend time in His presence.  On my way out the door, I grabbed a notebook, not understanding that inspiration, either.  But there it was.  

I sat down in the chapel, and looked at the Blessed Sacrament. Finally, almost in complete relief, I let the tears come. I  don't even think I was praying, just kneeling there crying my heart out.  After a bit I gained control of myself and took out the notebook...and began to write.  I wrote to Jesus, telling Him many things, writing about memories, regrets...many things. Finally I stopped and observed the monstrance, and began to write some more. About what Christ was offering to me, and what my response would be. 

Suddenly I stopped, shocked. I read what I had written, looked up at Jesus, thinking He could NOT possibly be saying what I thought He was saying. Was this a...a...proposal???? 

NO!  I began crying again, shocked, terrified, unworthy. Quickly I stood up and left the chapel, still crying, not knowing what to think. I went home, though, and started looking at different religious communities. What was out there?  COULD this be something I might want to do?

And again, my cousin's words came to me, haunting me. I'd never seriously considered religious life. But then again, I'd never been a "good Catholic". At that time, I was on my way, maybe, but, at least in my estimation, still not "there".  

That started a pendulum swinging; some days the life seemed attractive, other times it didn't.  And I didn't like praying the rosary in community, didn't even normally pray it every day!  I didn't think I wanted to spend so much time praying. But I did like the idea of helping the poor, I liked the idea of contributing to something real, not to a business I really didn't like.  

And then the pendulum would swing away and I was bored with the idea. It was usually around those times that some random person would say to me, out of the blue, "Do you think you have a Vocation?" I always said no, but then the pendulum would come back again and I'd find myself surfing the web for religious communities.  

I also began spending a lot more time in the Adoration Chapel, often even skipping lunch at work in favor of finding a chapel in a parish near the office. It was a very difficult time in my career, and had it not been for the availablity of those "mini-retreats", there was no way I would have survived with any sanity at all. In all liklihood, I would have lost my job.  With my entire being, I was seeking holiness and seeking Christ, knowing that without Him, I could do nothing at all. 

And still, the pendulum swung, back and forth, back and forth, almost tearing me apart. I thought maybe I was a character in Edgar Allen Poe's tale by the same title. This went on for a long time. Slowly I told a couple friends what I was thinking, and even told my Mom and brother.  That was a bad idea. That started Mom calling me nearly every day to ask if I still wanted "to be a nun".  She was absolutely convinced that I'd go knock on the door of a convent and never emerge again.  

I tried to go on different discernment retreats, but nothing worked out. I couldn't find anyone to take my dogs and I couldn't afford to put them in a kennel for the weekend. Or maybe the cost to get somewhere was too prohibitive. Some of my friends tried to "take over" and order me to do certain things, and I wasn't comfortable with those ideas. It wasn't the right time. And when I didn't do what they wanted me to do, those friends became angry with me. 

Then one day it occurred to me that I was going about discernment in the same way I'd gone about looking for jobs and choosing a career. Which, clearly, hadn't worked out well for me even in the proper context.  I realized that discernment was dependent upon God. Not me. So I simply stopped looking and put it in God's hands. I was open to His will, and it seemed religious life wasn't His will for me. So I shrugged and went on with my life, realizing I'd done my duty as a "good Catholic woman."  I'd seriously discerned religious life and now it was done.  

And the sense went away. I'd learned a great deal in that process, and through it, had come to a closer relationship with Our Lord. 

And thankfully, Mom stopped asking about it.  

Graduate School

The following summer, I attended a Catholic conference that was held locally, and, there, found my thirst for knowledge of God growing almost unbearably.  Since my conversion, I'd done a great deal of reading, had listened to Catholic Answers on the radio, and in fact, was always listening to Catholic Radio.  After the Conference, I again began to think about going back to school, this time to study theology. I learned that I wouldn't necessarily need to go for an  undergrad degree since I already had a B.A., but might be able to get straight into a grad program. But it seemed too expensive. A friend, though, encouraged me and made me ask an important question:   other people went to grad school...why NOT me?  

So I looked into it and applied for the Catholic Studies program at the University of St. Thomas, and was subsequently admitted, although as a special student.  As I could not qualify for financial aid under that status, I delayed my start...and learned about Ave Maria University's Institute for Pastoral Theology. The curriculum matched what I TRULY desired, so I took a course, loved it, and my application was accepted.  

I remember sitting in class one day, realizing what God had done to give me this great gift. I wondered how, though, exactly, I could have gone from the cesspool that was my life to being a grad student in theology.  There, sitting in that first class I took, I nearly wept with gratitude. 

Pursuit of Holiness and God's Will

Even though I didn't think God was calling me to religious life, I had a deep spiritual longing to be more united with Christ. I recognized the need to be committed, somehow, to someone, and it seemed that marriage really wasn't "it" for me, even though that's where I thought I probably belonged.  Yet, I couldn't really see myself in a home with children. I didn't know any guys I'd be interested in even dating, nor did I know of any who would be interested in me.  

So I learned to be content with my state in life, knowing God was there, that He had a plan, and it was my job to keep my eyes on Him.  Even so, there was an intensity in my longing that was nearly painful at times.  I was in agony, wanting to belong to SOMEONE, tired of being adrift, recognizing that this solitude isn't natural or part of God's original plan for humanity.  

A random question to a classmate about whether we had Third Order Dominicans in our area ended up being launched into the idea of starting a new chapter.  This seemed like a perfect idea, and I knew that although it wasn't a vow, it would be a new step in pursuing union with God.  I was very drawn to the Dominicans, and saw the intercession of the Dominican Saints in my life;  my own Confirmation Saint, I learned, was a tiertiary (3rd Order) Dominican, which, today we  refer to as "Dominican Laity".  

That continued coming up against walls, although we learned that there is a small chapter locally, so we were working with them to find an advisor.

Then something else happened, for God was not yet finished with me and had a BIG surprise in store....

Pilgrim - Chapter 2

Chapter One can be found here.

So it was that when I graduated from college, I had no relationship with God. I was truly seeking Him, but rarely went to Mass. Whenever I did attend Mass, I usually broke down in tears. I would sit and stand and kneel, trying mightily to maintain my compsure, and even if I was successful, when I went forward for communion, all control would be lost. I'd return to my pew barely able to see.  

A strange thing was happening, though; I was there so rarely that it seemed I always managed to attend Mass when Gospel was the story of the Prodigal Son. And yet, I managed to miss the main point of that reading:  God's love and Mercy.  I did sense an invitation to return, but I didn't know how. I was terrified. And so instead of running into the open arms of our Savior, I unworthily received Him in Holy Communion and fled in tears, back into the darkness of my life.  

I desperately needed to go to Confession as I was NOT living morally. Nor did the situation ever improve; rather, it spiraled downward.  But I hadn't been to Confession since some time in high school, and I questioned whether it was really necessary, anway.  Couldn't we just go straight to God?  I was truly sorry for my sins, and certainly knew right from wrong, but I also knew I couldn't get myself out of them. I was stuck.  

Yet, God continued to pursue me, refusing to let me get away so easily.  

I remember driving down the street one day, remembering the words of my cousin, who had served as my Confirmation sponsor.  She had been in college at that time and was speaking of the Sisters she knew there.  And although her comment wasn't addressed to me, she was passing on advice she'd been given by someone in her own life. 

It was so ironic, that there, as I ran amok in a world of sin, when the state of my soul was worse than abysmal, her words echoed through the years:   "Every good Catholic woman should seriously consider becoming a religious sister." 

And on the heels of that thought came the next one:  "I'm supposed to be a religious sister." 

WHAT!?  I nearly slammed on the brakes, but instead I shut down that thought as quickly as I could. I knew the life I was living. I was NOT a good Catholic by ANY stretch of the imagination. And..me?  A....SISTER????  Hysterical!  Blasphemous. Boring.  

I remembered during college, a great uncle had offered to pay for my education if I would become a teacher. He was a trustee at a Catholic school on the East coast and through his connections, I'd almost be guaranteed a job.  But I refused, and that reason was this:  his description of what he felt I should be doing sounded an awful lot like he wanted me to be a nun. 

I pushed the thoughts away, thinking that I really was supposed to get married, and maybe to my boyfriend at the time. We'd have a house, I didn't want children, but we could have pets and maybe I'd get a horse finally.  And have a successful career, etc etc.  

So I moved on, but every so often my cousin's words would invade my thoughts:  "Every good Catholic woman should seriously consider becoming a religious sister." 

Conversion 

It was maybe around that time that I met an ex-Catholic anti-Catholic at work. I often spoke with friends about spiritual things. I was truly seeking God, and I said I was Catholic.  Yet I didn't know my faith. One Evangelical friend invited me to her church, but I never went. In fact, I never darkened the door of another church as I couldn't for some reason, stop identifying myself as Catholic.  So it was that I was challenged by others who hated the Church and lodged false accusations against her.  But I had no defense. I knew that the attacks were unjust, I knew that the charge that Confession wasn't scriptural was wrong, although I wanted to agree. 

But I couldn't.  The statements from my anti-Catholic friend sent me on a journey to find answers to my own questions.  I would go home from work, turn on the TV, and one day I found EWTN. Exactly the shows I needed:   The Journey Home and Web of Faith.  

Other people had the same questions as I!  It was amazing to me, although I still wanted to reject many of the answers, thinking them "too conservative".  The reality was, though, that I  recognized Truth when I heard it, and that truth began to work on me, little by little. 

I was going to Mass more often at that point, and felt like a fraud, as though everyone could look at me and see how awful I really was.  I used to sit in the back of the Church, as far away from people as I could.  At no time would I ever approach a priest, for I feared if I did, he would immediatly recognize my sorry state and say I had to go to Confession.  I thought I was transparent.  

And as desperately as I wanted to go to some authority and ask my questions, and get answers for my misunderstandings, I just as desperately feared the very remedy I needed, and had begun to want. 

I began to pray, "God, please don't give up on me! Don't ever give up on me!"

I was trying, really trying, but had no solid Catholic friends. All that I knew were just as fallen as I was, if not more so.  What I didn't realize is that even though I was so lost, God was there, and...didn't give up on me. 

Finally, at long last, I made it to Confession. My boyfriend was in Afghanistan, I had been working hard to clean up my life, I'd learned a lot more about my faith and had begun defending it, if imperfectly.  But it was a start.  And I truly wanted to come home. 

So, I searched online and found a communal penance service at a church I knew I'd never go to again for it was far away from where I lived.  I went, picked up an examination of conscience, and sat down...in the back, as usual.  The reading, of course, was the story of the Prodigal Son. I started crying and couldn't stop. They announced where the priests would be stationed, and to my great dismay, I realized I was FAR away from a confessional where I could be anonymous.  I had to go face-to-face. So I stood in the line closest to me, weeping uncontrollably. 

Thankfully no one said anything, and I did my best to hide my face.  I wanted to flee, but wanted to stay. I'd finally gotten this far and NEEDED to go through with it. I feared that if I left, I'd never be able to come back.  It must have taken a legion of angels to keep me there in that line! 

Finally, it was my turn. When the priest saw me he exclaimed "Oh my!" and reached a calming hand out to me. I said, "It's been 12 years..." and in my hand, I had the examination of conscience.  He quickly put things together, and said, "THAT'S WONDERFUL!  YOU'RE the Prodigal Daughter!"  He was overjoyed...I was flabbergasted.  He went on to explain that the examen they handed out was meant to be a guide, not something designed to condemn us, and he told me to make a general confession. I did my best, I listed everything, barely able to speak, and I doubt he was even able to understand me most of the time. Yet he never asked me to repeat anything.  I told him that I'd stayed away because I knew I was going to committ those sins again. I knew I was supposed to have a firm purpose of amendment, and didn't think I did. 

I didn't understand at that time that God didn't expect me to perfect myself; that's His job. And the priest explained to me that our inability to free ourselves is why Christ died for us and why He gave us the Sacrament of Confession;  in His mercy He knew we could come to Him over and over again if necessary, and be forgiven.  

Receiving absolution that evening remains one of the most profoundly glorious moments of my life. When I left the church to head home, I knew it was gone. I knew I was free, if only for a little while.  The following week was Holy Week, and I wanted to be ready.  Our Lord waited.  

Sadly, it was another three years before I had the courage to go to Confession again, for, as I suspected, I fell back into my old sins, very quickly.  But something had changed; I truly desired to live a holy life, at least to some degree. I got another job, I broke up with the boyfriend, and I moved to another city where I had bought a house.  God had lead the way and brought me into a world in answer to a simple prayer:  for more Catholic friends.  

Two of my new neighbors were young Catholic women about my age, my new parish had perpetual Adoration (although I really didn't know what that was), and I was making more and more connections to other Catholics online through Catholic Answers forums.  I learned a great deal, began attending local conferences, went to Mass every Sunday...and was still living in a state of mortal sin. And yes, I was receiving Communion. 

At some point I became convicted and stopped receiving, although I continued to go to Mass.  Finally one day I took the day off of work to ENSURE I would go to Confession. And finally, I went in, this time anonymously, made a three year confession, and promised the priest that I would never again stay away for so long.  And I was serious, making it a habit.  

At first, I would be shaking and crying, terrified, yet realizing the irrationality of my response. Only GOOD things were happening! And so I continued to go, at least once a month if not more often.   

This is a habit that has continued, and I hope to never again fall so far away from Our Lord that I'd fear not to come back.  

As it was, I found my parish home, I was surrounded by wonderful Catholic friends, and finally in a place to begin to listen to what God REALLY wanted to say to me. 

*

Pilgrim - Chapter 1

I was a "miracle baby", only because Mom was told she could never have children.  Thus my older brother by two and a half years was a miracle, and I following,  was just a cute little bundle from God thumbing His nose at the pathetic "god of Science" that continues to reign in America. 

But I wasn't born into a perfect family, for who is?  Nor was I born perfect; it was only right that I was born of two imperfect parents.  Mom had been born into a large Catholic family, and had only one hand.  It was surmised that the umbilical cord had been wrapped around her left hand, refusing to let it be formed properly.  My Dad was born with Spina Biffeda and spend his young life in and out of surgery. 

I know my parents met at a dance and dated long-distance before they got married. Grandma on Dad's side had a conniption fit, apparently because Mom was "Irish Catholic", and Grandma, who had immigrated with her parents from Stockholm, Sweden, it was apparently a national hobby to hate Irish Catholics.  That's the impression I always had, anyway.  

As it was was, I grew up with a huge disconnect;  Dad was Lutheran, Mom was Catholic. That meant that Dad rarely came to Mass with us, and on Holy Days of note, our relatives on Mom's side were willing to travel...but those on Dad's side weren't.  

So we spent many secular holidays with Dad and his family, such as Thanksgiving, and if we were there for Christmas, they went to a plush-carpeted Lutheran church while Mom drove my brother and I, alone, or were dropped off at the local Catholic Church. 

I remember feeling like a refugee of sorts.  

It's not that we grew up with massive family discord; rather, I have many great memories of my grandparents on Dad's side, our travels to visit them and Mom's family in Minnesota. I mean only to emphasize that our own little family of four was very much split along religious lines, even as they tried to make it work.  

Even today when we get together for holidays, in honor of Dad, we say the Lutheran meal blessing along with the Catholic:

Catholic:   Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive.  From Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen

Lutheran:  Come Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let these gifts to us be blessed. Amen. 

It's a beautiful blend of the prayers of two religions, and even as I wish my parents had been unified in their faith, I'm grateful for Dad's contribution to the customs of our family in the name of Jesus.  

Childhood....

I said before that I wasn't born perfect. I wasn't.  I was born with a lazy eye. My earliest baby pictures show this terrible defect, and I remember this defect being constantly discussed.  I remember wearing a patch over my left eye, and I remember when the extreme part of the defect was miraculously cured via the power of prayer the day before surgery.  

But that didn't take away the need to wear the dreaded Patch, and it was maybe the ONLY thing my older brother didn't use to torture me during those early years.  Nor did I ever tease him about his struggle to learn to read, even as I surpassed his abilities before my own time.  

Even siblings can find peace.  Those were our early years.  

But things changed.  I remember Mom and Dad arguing at night, and I'll never forget the cold November day when Mom went outside and smashed a bottle against the Maple Tree, and, shortly afterwards, Dad left with a suitcase and never returned.  

I'm not sure if it was the following summer or later, but it was an awful day in our history.  Mom  began "pacing" down the long living room as though she were walking the aisle in her own wedding or serving as a bridesmaid. She was clasping her hands together and muttering to herself. A neighbor took her to the hospital, we went into another neighbor's care, and the next day, or a few days later, our aunts and uncles suddenly appeared at our home to take care of us.  Grandma on Mom's side was the most prominent of the caretakers.  

That summer Mom was diagnosed with Bipolar. Shortly after that, the divorce was final and the bank foreclosed on the house.  We moved to Minnesota courtesy of an uncle's cattle truck and a small caravan of passenger cars. 

A couple years later, Dad moved to Minnesota and found a place near the Cities, so we were able to see him more often.  

In 6th Grade I played a flute solo in the Christmas program at the Church of the Sacred Heart, and Dad was invited, but I don't think he ever came.  I wanna say he did one Christmas, but although he was invited every year, he chose not to come.  It was always a disappointment to me. Even as I remembered that Christmas Eve, trembling before an audience the likes of which I've never seen and haven't seen since.  Even as I remember the vibrato enforced by uncontrollable shaking, even as I remember struggling to hold my flute and play the notes through my frozen fingers...I don't remember Dad being there.  I know he was there ONCE...but never again. 

It didn't matter. That's what I told myself.  

But Dad DID help me learn to drive when I turned 16, taking me to the narrow, overcrowded streets of Uptown Minneapolis. He taught me how to drive on freeways, how to deal with idiot drivers, and his own lessons have often come into play as I later moved to the Cities and  made it my home. 

Grandpa died when I was in Jr. High, and as it was the middle of winter and the weather was poor, we didn't go to the funeral.  Dad did, though, and actually moved to Michigan in order to help Grandma.  So it was that I didn't see him much over the next few years.

During Jr High and High School, I remained active in my parish, as a progressing flutist, as a cantor, and a member of the adult Choir.  I'd have to say that my happiest memories of those years were from my connection to my parish, and my best friend, whom I met through a youth group that didn't last.  

In spite of that though, those were tough years. It's a much longer story, but suffice to say I nearly took my own life, truly believing that I had no contribution to this world.  Mom was in and out of the hospital, Dad wasn't around at all, and at the worst of it, at one point, I lost ALL of my friends.  There was a terrible confrontation in the cafeteria of my Jr. High school, where I gave my ONLY warning:  "Maybe I should just kill myself".

The response of my "friends"  was "Yeah..maybe you should."  

I nearly did.  It is ONLY God's hand that stayed my own.   

Troubled High School....

Life was awful.  I  was never one of the popular group. I don't know that I was officially a "nerd" any longer, but I had no status.  Half the time I lived with my best friend's family, sometimes I lived with relatives.  I remember sitting in the hallway before classes started, wondering where I'd sleep that night. I had clothing and a work schedule packed into my locker, hoping that I'd be able to reach someone...because I couldn't go back home.  I couldn't take it anymore.  

There were a few friends who knew what was going on at home. NO ONE knew how close I was to taking my own life. 

I even now doubt few people would have cared.

One day, in desperation, I went to the Guidance Counselor, having run away from home, unable to take any more. She listened to my story and told me to go to the school principal and ask about minor emancipation. So it was that one morning I sat tearfully in his presence and explained that Mom wouldn't sign a permission for something because of her mental illness.

He'd never seen me before because I was a good student, and was somewhat shocked by what I was saying. That, thankfully, gave me credibility. In his compassion he gave me other options; everything other than the legal proceedings I had been told to seek.

I graduated when I was still 17, and two weeks later, legally, I became an adult. Two weeks later, Mom attempted suicide and I not only signed the 72-hour-hold as her legal guardian, but I advocated for commitment. Thank God wonderful mental health professionals, both those who had worked with her throughout the years and the one who was in charge of her at the new hospital took the time to learn the facts and explain the consequences. Mom was saved from a very damaged 18-year-old daughter who didn't know what else to do.

That same year, right on schedule I went to college, a Catholic one.  I stopped going to Mass; I knew nothing about being Catholic because I'd grown up to believe our faith is in what we do during and surrounding Mass...and nothing else. And since I wasn't DOING anything anymore, it all fell apart.  I had nowhere to roost. I wasn't playing flute or cantoring anymore.  I was away from that parish family that had been cultivated over the years.  I missed them, but I also missed "performing" every Sunday, for that was what it seemed to be for me.

Clearly, I never understood what the Mass was REALLY about. 

College

I was one of the few college students happy to be away from "home". As it was, I had not home. We'd lost our home the summer, so really, I had no permanent address. The homesickness of my friends was mystifying to me.

During those years, I rarely attended Mass, and if I did, I was in tears, so just didn't go as I didn't know how to handle my own emotions or why they were happening.

I spent a semester in Mexico during my Junior year, and exactly a month after I returned, Dad passed away.  It was a devastating event especially because I couldn't talk to anyone. There were those who offered open doors, but I ran away from them.  The VP of the college himself offered his shoulder and his time, but I lied and told him I was fine. I couldn't speak.  Yet I'd stop in on occasion to "chat", and he'd try, clearly mystified that I wouldn't speak of my very obvious  grief. If I felt the tears coming on I'd quickly make an excuse and flee his office.    

I could not speak.  I wanted to, but couldn't.  It took months.  

And throughout my question was...where was God?

I learned in a very heretical class just after Dad's passing that "God is not omnipotent".  It destroyed me.  There I was, faced with one of the biggest questions of my life:  "Where is God in all of this?"  

And through that class was given the answer, "He can't help you. God doesn't really care. He doesn't have time."

As it was, at that point, I had no home, I hated my family (what little I had left), I didn't feel connected to anyone or anything, and I missed my Dad, whom, by the way, I hadn't seen at all since high school graduation and would never see again. 

Is it any wonder that I looked then to New Age and the Occult?  For they also have gods who don't care, but at least those gods can be manipulated...in theory, anyway.  

At the time, I worked in Campus Security and when it was my job to lock the chapel, I would genuflect even though I didn't know why. Something called me to wait, to remain, there in the warmth, there in the light of the tabernacle candle. Because He was the ONLY one who knew my suffering.

And yet I fled from the light, however flickering, however warm.  I was lost. 

Read Chapter Two

Social Media, Canon Law, and Attacking Clergy

Charity is not a mere suggestion for Catholics (or anyone else for that matter), but for EVERYONE. And to be clear, in this context I'm not speaking in terms of giving stuff to the disenfranchised, but rather, the command to LOVE.  To be charitable towards others. To respect in them the dignity God gave them, and, in the case of the Ordained (Clergy), we are to hold a particular respect for the OFFICE they hold in obeisance to GOD. 

That is not to say we cannot be critical of certain actions, but we must ALWAYS remember in our criticisms to remember charity and to have respect for the office of those people we may be criticizing.  And we must take care in how we go about our criticisms;  perhaps it's best, maybe, to not shred a priest or bishop on a blog or in a newspaper article and instead go directly to the source?   After all...that IS our obligation and right under Canon Law.  

But we do NOT have the right to ridicule those who hold those offices. As an example, a few weeks ago I referred to a certain dissident Priest as "a Tool".  Meaning, "a tool of Satan".  I did it in conversation, and I hold that he's still a "tool" of the group that is using him and his office to advance a dissident agenda.  However, there is a HUGE difference between the latter and the former;  the first was a personal attack that was a judgment upon him. The second addresses an objective action.  I apologize, therefore for my slander, but I won't apologize for addressing the truth of how he and his office is being used for Satanic means. 

It's easy to spout off and we tend to do so in a knee-jerk manner.  It's harder, though, to look at the actual issue and realize that there is a person with real dignity who holds an office to which he was called by God, whether we understand why or not.  And sometimes the person holding that office is a puppet of some lay group. Sometimes maybe he's just not too bright, or maybe was badly formed. It doesn't matter what is the cause of his very public errors; what DOES matter is how we are called to handle those errors, and public slander and libel and the like is NEVER the proper way to go about it.  

A Bishop's Experience With Internet Criticism

Many have already read the interview with Archbishop Chaput who commented on the hate mail he's received ever since he's been connected online.  In his honesty, he ALSO stated that the mail from the left has contained the most profanity, the mail from the right, those people whom one would think would be most supportive of a Bishop of his intestinal fortitude and holiness, has instead been the most vitriolic.  

Here are His Excellency's exact words, (linked above): 

"Some of the worst emails I get are from Catholic conservatives who think I should excommunicate and refuse communion to Gov. Bill Ritter Jr. of Colorado and to former-Sen. [and now Secretary of the Interior] Ken Salazar of Colorado, and why aren’t you doing this? I mean, just awful kind of stuff that they write. Sometimes, I must admit, that when I write back, I’m not as friendly as I should be. But I try not to be mean."

And then, reflecting on the difference between e-mail from liberals and conservatives, he said:

"The left mail I get will use terrible words but be less vitriolic. They use the F-word and things like that, call me names like that. But the right is meaner, but they’re not as foul."

As a blogger, I've noticed the same things. There are certain blogs I won't read anymore because of the way they attack priests and bishops with impunity - or anyone else who happens to share a different view (which in many cases is a legitimate non-heretical opinion from a fellow Catholic in good standing). There are certain blogs I read, but at which I rarely or never comment;  not because of the author, but because of the commenters who claim to be solid Catholics in spite of the hatred and accusation they spew into every corner of cyberspace.

It is not that I haven't been guilty of doing the same thing. I have been, clearly, and for that, I sincerely apologize.

I'm glad Archbishop Chaput has spoken out on this issue, and I hope his words are taken to heart by the very people who most need to hear that message, but somehow, I doubt it. It seems like those who do the most damage to the Mystical Body of Christ don't take hints very well and apply the barb to everyone else but themselves.

Thus, I'm not expecting that those offensive bloggers, Catholic newspaper columnists from secular and Catholic newspapers alike will change their attitude any time soon.

Maybe it's time to recall, that, especially in the case of our clergy, we as Catholics are OBLIGATED to respect the office of the Priest or Bishop, and obviously, that of the Pope and every other ordained Ecclesial Office.  

Consider the words of Canon 1369: 

A person who in a public show or speech, in published writing, or in other uses of the instruments of social communication utters blasphemy, gravely injures good morals, expresses insults, or excites hatred or contempt against religion or the Church is to be punished with a just penalty. 

This is any person. Let's focus on bloggers since this is the proper venue.  Let's also look at other social media such as Twitter or Plurk or other similar venues;  the reality is that what we say and how we say it affects others.  If I am critical of the actions of a Bishop and sarcastically call him to account in a public internet venue, what I'm doing is exciting hatred or contempt in others, whether they are Catholic or not.  And in exciting that hatred or contempt, that would also mean that this would spread to the same effect against religion and the Church. 

I could come up with a LOT of examples of this:  An Actor portraying a role in an anti-Catholic play would fall under this canon. So would a newspaper columnist who spouts off the old-hat inaccuracies and lies about the Crusades and Galileo and the Inquisition. An average Catholic who publicly slanders the Pope in a Letter to the Editor in a local newspaper or diocesan paper.  An average Catholic who twists Church teaching on faith and morals to try to justify their own behavior and writes about it in a publication or calls a conference for that very purpose.  Need I go on?  I could....

What we do and what we say MATTERS to others, whether they are currently Catholic or not. When they look at us, how do we reflect the Church?  If we're running around spewing a bunch of vile insults against certain Priests or Bishops, others look at that and are put off, perhaps affecting their ability to trust in the holiness and the authority of the Church established by Christ. 

We WILL answer for those souls at our Particular Judgment!  If we are the ones who chased someone away from Holy Mother Church, we are placing our very souls in jeopardy.  It is we who have been given so much that have the greater duty to spread the Gospel message with charity and truth.  And it IS possible to be truthful without being vitriolic and rude. Remember what Isaiah said about the Messiah to come:  He would not break a bruised reed or quench a smoking wick.  

THAT'S our example to follow. 

Personally...I'm cringing. I KNOW I've acted contrary to this Canon.  How 'bout YOU? 

But wait!  There's MORE! 

According to Can. 1371:  

The following are to be punished with a just penalty: 

section 1:  in addition to the case mentioned in can 1364.1* a person who teaches a doctrine condemned by the Roman Pontiff or an ecumenical council or who obstinately rejects the doctrine mentioned in can. 750.2** or in can. 752*** and who does not retract after having been admonished by the Apostolic See or an ordinary; 

section 2: a person who otherwise does not obey a legitimate precept or prohibition of the Apostolic See, an ordinary, or a superior and who persists in disobedience after a warning. 

(See below for Canons marked with *, **, or ***) 

We've had a recent example of this in the news out of the Diocese of Madison; a woman was dismissed by the Bishop because of her refusal to recant her thesis.  As you can read for yourself, the above Canon gives the Bishop (i.e. the Ordinary) the right to ask her to recant, and because she remained obstinate, he was correct in his action to fire her.  Basically, if it ain't Catholic and if you persist in holding to views that aren't Catholic and you happen to work in a church that requires your obedience, you can be dismissed.  Period.  The Church is not about YOU.  It's about God. And if there is a cancer present in the Body, it must be removed. If a warning (i.e. an antibiotic or chemo treatment) is sufficient, well, then all is well. Otherwise, the Bishop gets to apply the scalpel.  Deal with it.  

Unfortunately that's not the only example, but I'll go no further and I won't link to the situation as it really isn't necessary. 

There's another Canon, however we also must consider, because it's ANOTHER thing we see a lot of at least in our local diocese.  

Canon 1373:

A person who publicly incites among subjects animosities or hatred against the Apostolic See or an ordinary because of some act of power or ecclesiastical ministry or provokes subjects to disobey them is to be punished by an interdict or other just penalties. 

Yup.  Have seen a few such examples.  I've seen such disobedience provoked by both lay people and clergy, here and abroad, and recently.  And they tend to do this in the public press, via blogging and personal websites, published literature for various dissident organizations, etc,  as well as in the secular media.  Anything that incites hatred against the Church seems to make it into print and visual media. 

We ALL need to be on notice, and especially those to whom this canon applies! Thus, they who offend against the Church have no right to whine and complain when they're busted and are given said penalties, which can be a range of things.  

People, especially fellow bloggers, we need to take care with our words and positions. It is not that we cannot comment on current events, or share our opinions. But we need to remember that even if we don't personally like a Priest or a Bishop, we DO need to respect the office and tender our words according to what is owed for that reason.  Yes, we all know that the road to Hell is paved with the skulls of Bishops (according to St. John Chrysostom), but do we really want our own skulls parked right there next to them on that roadway to eternal condemnation? 

Something to consider the next time we put our fingers to the keyboard. 

I have ONE other thing to say: 

The reality is that we are used to American Civil Law in our "democratic" society. Under Civil Law, the State considers that we have rights because the law gives them to us.  We can summarize the basic premise by saying that I have a right, which means YOU have a duty.  

In Canon Law, it is just the opposite; I have a right BECAUSE I have a duty. 

Canon law is an ordering of society in order that holiness and salvation can be achieved.  That order is imperative. The law isn't there just to be there; it's there to help us reach to God. It's there because we are fallen creatures and were structures not in place, there would be the same chaos American society is headed for  in our socialist/communist regime.  

So as you read these canons, don't complain that it's complicated. READ them.  It's common sense, really. And if you love God, if you TRULY love God, then you'll love His representatives on earth, and you will treat them with the same proper regard owed to anyone in the dignity of such an office.  It doesn't mean you have to like them or agree with them personally. It means you respect the Office, the Title, because you respect God. And it is that very duty by virtue of your baptism that gives you any other Ecclesial right within the Catholic Church.  

See you in the Confession line.  

--------------------------------  

NOTATIONS:  

* Canon 1364.1 cites apostate from the faith, heretic, schismatic incurs latae sententiae excommunication

** Canon 750 

§1. A person must believe with divine and Catholic faith all those things contained in the word of God, written or handed on, that is, in the one deposit of faith entrusted to the Church, and at the same time proposed as divinely revealed either by the solemn magisterium of the Church or by its ordinary and universal magisterium which is manifested by the common adherence of the Christian faithful under the leadership of the sacred magisterium; therefore all are bound to avoid any doctrines whatsoever contrary to them.

§2. Each and every thing which is proposed definitively by the magisterium of the Church concerning the doctrine of faith and morals, that is, each and every thing which is required to safeguard reverently and to expound faithfully the same deposit of faith, is also to be firm-ly embraced and retained; therefore, one who rejects those propositions which are to be held definitively is opposed to the doctrine of the Catholic Church.

*** Canon 752 

Although not an assent of faith, a religious submission of the intellect and will must be given to a doctrine which the Supreme Pontiff or the college of bishops declares concerning faith or morals when they exercise the authentic magisterium, even if they do not intend to proclaim it by definitive act; therefore, the Christian faithful are to take care to avoid those things which do not agree with it.

ENTIRE CODE OF CANON LAW AT VATICAN WEBSITE

Kiss of Death

I've been thinking a lot lately about Judas, and how much I resemble him.  I recently watched The Passion of the Christ again, and the scene that stood out to me this time was near the beginning.  There is something in the way he furtively leaves the Last Supper and goes to receive his payment for betrayal. 

There is something in the way the money bag flies through the air; and as Judas desperately and clumsily reaches out to catch the

 offhand throw, the money falls at his feet and scatters.  He is helpless to stop it.  He looks up at the crowd that stares back at him dispassionately and with an air of condescension, then with an attitude of desperate greed Judas drops to the ground to quickly gather up the silver he was paid for the blood of Christ who had ordained him that very evening.

He looks up at the soldiers, and the fear in his eyes cannot be mistaken. It seems he is already regretting his act.  And yet, he goes into the Garden, and there finds Jesus waiting for him. The man he had followed, the man who had washed his feet, even knowing of the betrayal to come.  The One who had shown him ONLY love...and gave him the free will to do what he set out to do. 

Then, when Judas returns to the Garden with the soldiers, how does the betrayal occur?  Through a kiss. An expression of love. 

How many times have I expressed love to Christ while bearing hatred in my heart in some way?

How many times have I begged Jesus for His love, while I pondered my next sin, my very betrayal of His own love?  

Judas flees, realizing what he's done.  The movie shows his torment and ultimate demise; suicide. 

Yes, he sinned in his betrayal, but that sin was forgivable.  He could have come to the Cross.  He could have come to Christ an any time and made his repentance clear.  He could have been forgiven.  

Just as I've been forgiven, over and over, for my many betrayals.  

Because, every time I sin, I  give Christ the same kiss of death.  The very same. 

We look to Peter, whose love, as beloved John Paul II pointed out, set him up for failure. It was in how Peter followed Christ to his scourging that put him in the position to be confronted, and where he denied him.  Three times.  

Judas denied Christ only ONCE; when he betrayed him. The betrayal was a single, seamless act.   Peter denied him THREE times.

Yet their stories are very different.  Peter continued to follow Christ.  He truly loved Him and could not stay away.  He repented of his denial.  When Our Lord appeared a few days later on the sea shore, Peter was so excited that he didn't wait for the boat to pull up...he leapt overboard and SWAM to Jesus, where he was given three chances to overcome his three denials.

Our God is a God of Mercy.  Infinite mercy. 

Judas, though, betrayed Christ, ran away...and stayed away.  It was his rejection of God's love that lead him into such complete despair that he saw no other way out than suicide.  

How many times have I rejected God's love?  In choosing to sin, not only have I betrayed Him, but I've rejected Him. 

How many times has Our Lord come after me, in spite of and because of the fact that He was nailed to the Cross on my behalf?  

How many times have I been tempted to avoid Confession because I've thought my sins were greater than God's own mercy?  

How many times have I turned my back on Jesus because Mercy was inconvenient to my Pride?

Judas was the first to leave Mass right in the middle, and completely missed the consecration which took place as Christ died upon the Cross.   Judas left right after his own ordination, only to bring destruction when he returned.  And ultimately, he missed the biggest moment of all. 

Judas did repent, but he repented to the wrong authority; rather than going to Christ, the one whom He'd wronged, God himself whom he betrayed, he tried to give back the tangible evidence of his sin.  

How many times have I tried to undo my own wrong only to make things worse?

How many times have those efforts been rejected because the ones in whom I sought comfort were the same ones who led me into sin to begin with?

How many times have I looked to myself for salvation, thinking I could fix things on my own?

Had Judas gone to Jesus, Our Lord would have taken him back, and although He would not have "undone" the damage, he would have helped Judas to carry that cross he'd so willingly embraced.  What was done was done, but Jesus understands everything. 

He asks only one thing; humility.  That in our sin, we recognize our sin, repent of it, and embrace the effects of that sin.  None of us is immune.  

This year, I'm trying to recognize each time I kiss Jesus in an act of betrayal, and have found even this short project to be maybe a little more than I can bear.  Yet it has been such a blessing, reminding me that whenever God reveals sin, He also reveals His Mercy. 

Lately I've been fleeing His mercy, realizing my own lack of repentance, my own failings.  Yet Our Lord has come after me, refusing to let me go. I've been astonished at His guidance, unable to deny what He has done.  

And yet, I look at Judas, and I see myself. If not in reality, then at least in the danger that has tempted me. To betray Christ, to run away, and even to be lost forever. I can understand why Judas did what he did; why he died at the end of a rope.  I've known that temptation as well and have been spared it only by the grace of God.  

Death is not what Our Lord wills.  He did not will for Judas to despair. He did not will for Judas to betray Him. The reality was that Judas did these things all on his own.  Jesus suffered greatly on account of Judas, whom He loved dearly.

It was Judas who rejected Jesus; not the other way around.  It was Judas who ran away and gave in to despair. He refused God's mercy.  

The reality is that the kiss Judas gave to Jesus was a betrayal not of Christ alone, but of himself.  He died in that moment, and he knew it. It was that very misuse of an act and symbol of love that truly revealed the state of Judas's soul. And if he could so warp love, how, in his mind, could he come back? 

Through Christ, and Christ alone.  For Jesus went willingly to his Passion and death.  He went, and would have taken Judas with Him, but instead, Judas refused the uncondemning gaze of Jesus whose last words to him were, 

"Would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?"  

A statement, a question...not a condemnation. 

Jesus, I trust in Thee. 

A Little Levity

I've been going through a very rough period this year, a lot of stuff going on and really, no end in sight.  Even some people at the parish where I work have noted that I seemed down. I used the excuse that I was just recovering from bronchitis, but that excuse can only go so far (and it was only partially true at the time!).  

But all is well, I don't want anyone to worry; we all have times in our life that seem crushing, and yes, we have to deal with them, and they come and go and I'm grateful to have friends who notice and who care and have expressed that they're available to talk if I need them.  

All that said, tonight I want to write about something a little more fun, and hopefully inspire some discussion in the combox.  Because it's something we've all experienced!  

That's right...embarrassing moments!  And so, tonight, I'm going to share with you one of Adoro's Embarrassing Moments. I may link to the others I've written about, if I can find them!  

GIVE ME BACK MY FAX!  

Intrigued?  Here's the story: 

Back when I was working as a Claims Investigator, I had a really stinky claim that we HAD to pay even though it had fraud all over it and I even had the smoking gun. But it was out of Arizona that has terrible terrible laws that basically forces the company to pay fraudulent claims.  Well, the "stolen" car showed up, the NICB (National Insurance Crime Bureau) helped to ID the VIN, and I got the call to look at it, document it, and take it to our storage area for salvage sale.  

We'd paid off the title on this leased vehicle a few weeks before, but hadn't yet received the Lien card, so the fact that the car was recovered just then was a bit problematic. 

As it was,  a lot of problems surrounded the payment of this claim to the lien holder, and even when it was recovered, the guy at the tow yard couldn't seem to get it through his head that the PLATE did not match the car (being "stolen") and so when I had to call to deal with some tow yard issues, he could never find it and insisted it wasn't there!  Even though I'd seen it, the NICB had seen it, the Auto Theft unit had seen it and towed it there...this dufus INSISTED that the car wasn't there!  

And so it went, problems like that ongoing. 

Well, we were told we'd have to produce the title in order to get the car out of storage and take it to our own free storage until it could be sold. 

So I called the lien holder. As it turned out, they claimed they hadn't received payment. I provided proof.  Honda, after doing some research, realized that they'd applied the payment to another account, and at least were able finally to apply it correctly to the fraudulent customer's account instead. 

But they STILL refused to send the Lien Card! 

As it turned out, they wanted documentation from my total loss workup, wanting the car's actual mileage and condition, etc.  I couldn't provide that because, at the time we settled the claim, the car was still missing in action.  I had to estimate mileage and condition based on what the customer reported and average condition for a car of that year and mileage.  

They wanted hard evidence, so in effect, they were asking me to create and falsify a document. 

I refused, my Manager agreed. 

I explained that without even a "Guarantee of Lien Release" I could not even MOVE the car from this expensive police impound yard, and each day, charges were mounting. 

They didn't care...they wanted the false document. 

This is the good part: 

So I wrote a very terse letter explaining our position and their obligations, as well as the consequences to THEM for not providing what we needed. In effect, the letter stated that as long as they would not send the lien card, the car still belonged to them and thus we were not responsible for charges. I provided the name of the tow yard, phone, address, etc. and told them the current charges  and MN law pertaining to when the yard could assume title for themselves. 

I took the letter to my Manager to be reviewed, he made a few changes so I took it back to my desk and edited the letter per his suggestions.  I hit "PRINT" and went to the printer to pick up the copy. That evening I was in a rush, it was nearing the end of the day and I was SWAMPED, this problem on top of it all.  

I still had the edited version in hand so that I could compare the hard copy before I sent it in case I'd missed something.  After comparing the two, I crossed the office and went to the fax machine, wrote up a cover sheet to the rep I'd been dealing with at Honda, placed the paper on the scanner, and sent the fax. 

As the last flash of paper passed into the machine and I heard the tones indicating that it was transmitting to Honda, I glanced down smugly at the paper in my hand, realizing that this was the end; either they would have to acquiesce to my request for the Lien card or realizing we would do nothing more and the stupid car was their responsibility.  

And then it hit me.  The paper in my hand was the edited version that I'd just printed off. 

In horror, I stared at the fax machine which was then spitting out the two pages it had scanned...the cover sheet...and the letter. 

The very  business-snotty letter I'd just sent was not the proofed and approved copy;  it was the one with my Manager's editing marks and suggestions. 

And it had already been received at Honda. 

All smugness left me.  I quickly re-faxed the letter, the correct one, hoping mightily that maybe someone at Honda would lose the letter. 

But I have a feeling it's likely framed and hanging on a wall there somewhere, and honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't been posted to the Internet....

Yes...it was THAT BAD....

Business-snotty FAIL! 

Other published tales of Embarrassing Moments of Adoro's Life:

BAD COP!  NO DONUT!

Slip of the Day

Embarrassing Moment in the Life of Adoro

Valid and Invalid, Licit vs Illicit in Canon Law

I'm working on studying for my Canon Law exam, and as a result, a friend and I had a discussion yesterday on the difference between Valid/Invalid, Licit/Illicit. She wasn't real clear on the concept, and I wasn't clear in explaining it, which lead me to believe, of course, that I also wasn't clear in my understanding!  I tried to look at it through a common and timely issue; that of the SSPX.  

But, alas, that scenario is too complicated and I'd rather not "reason" something through when I haven't had enough of Canon Law to do so with any REAL intelligence.  And, really, there's a lot of people out there on all sides who are well-read but not authoritatively versed in Canon Law even though they are pretending to be so.  Their pontificating is quite off-putting and confusing. Thus, as a disclaimer, I will NOT discuss the SSPX with regard to this topic.  

I took some time to think about the terms, though, pondering it through, taking also into consideration what our professor taught us in his notes and lecture. 

Validity versus Invalidity is a question of whether Jesus is actually present in that act, or especially (in my mind), a Sacrament.  Something that is Valid has all the juridic effects (i.e. all the effects of the law), while an Invalid act does NOT have the juridic effects.   

Licit versus Illicit doesn't leave us the question of whether Jesus is there or not; rather, the question becomes: is Jesus there and pleased, or is He MAD?   An act that is licit is done according to the norm of the law (ie the GIRM, Redemptionis Sacramentum, etc.) or whether it is NOT done according to the law.   Thus, an act can be illicit but still retain validity.  That would be a way of saying that Jesus is present but very upset! 

I was trying to think of a way to explain this in other terms, and so, the following is what I came up with this morning while I was brushing my teeth:

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Let's say that you are a child and you pretty much have standing permission, within certain defined and obvious parameters, to ride your bike to the corner store every day after school and get a candy bar or bag of chips or a pop or something.  And you have to take your little brother and little sister with you because they are your willing responsibility and how you make your allowance.  This is routine, you're in charge of them and that's part of the understanding.  

And as you ride with them down the sidewalk to the store, you wave at Harry the Barber who is reading the newspaper next to his barber pole, and you pass Mrs. Green at the vegetable stand a few more doors down, and they all know you and know that it's OK for you to be doing this.  They know your Mom, you see, and because this town is kind of a big family, they're also looking out for you.   And because of this, they also know that this trip to the store is a valid act, done with the Mother's blessing and permission, which, in effect, means that she is present with you on these trips.  

Now, if they saw you driving Mom's car down the road with baby sister on the hood at 3 am, they would ALSO know that this is VERY invalid and they'd be calling your Mom because this is CLEARLY outside of the boundaries and there's NO WAY this would have her blessing! 

Now, as far as Licit/Illicit goes, let's say that you got home from school and just before you left to take your daily trip to the store, you got a call from your Mother, who said that you should wait because she didn't want you to take your little sister that day.  She wanted you to wait until she got home from work because of something to do with your little sister. 

But, instead of being obedient to that command, you copped an attitude, got on your bikes, and all three went to the store as usual.  Now, Harry the Barber and Mrs. Green the vegetable lady wouldn't know the difference, and would wave as they always do. 

And, in fact, that ride to the store would have all the same juridic effects as that of every other day; it would in fact, be taking place.  You would in fact be paying actual money for your actual snack, and your act would be witnessed by others.  And so, in effect, your Mother would still be with you because this is a normal function of your day, except for one thing....the fact that you are doing it as usual on that day is in DIRECT DISOBEDIENCE to a particular law or directive laid down by your Mother, which renders that trip to the store ILLICIT.  

In other words...Jesus is there but He. Is. MAD!  And, my son....YOU ARE SOOOO GROUNDED!  

So, we could say that the just penalty of the the betrayal of the Mother's trust is Excommunication, which you have enacted of your own accord. Because, in fact, your baby sister was supposed to be going to the doctor for an important diagnoses and because you took her away from her mother she missed her appointment and is going to become very, very sick...because of YOUR disobedience.  So...firstly, listen to your Mother! 

So, you're grounded (excommunicated), and certain things need to be in play in order for you to be able to act in the same capacity. You have to admit that what you have done is wrong, you have to apologize for that wrong, and that you understand the effect of your action.  (there's actually more to this so don't take this paragraph to be canonical...and it's not on this test, anyway.)    

 

DISCLAIMER:  The above (hopefully fictional) scenario is NOT meant to parody ANYTHING in real life, but only explain things in entertaining terms which maybe I'll remember when I'll take the test. If my understanding is flawed, please tell me so before I take the test! And suggest changes to the scenario that would make the example proper.  

Impossible

Today while at work, I ran into a friend who had come in for an hour of Adoration. It was great to see her so we chatted a bit. She is one of the people in my life who knows I'm discerning and is very supportive of this quest. 

During our conversation I asked her to pray for my very impossible situation; I confessed to her that I don't know what's going to happen this summer.

At work, we're down to 10 hours per week, and, as it is, I can't pay my bills on what I'm making full time! It doesn't help that my mortgage went up yet again, that everything else is going up, and of course, the large car bill from January isn't going to be anywhere close to being paid off any time soon. 

And, the great irony;  here God gives me a job that basically gives me 6 weeks of the summer "off", which, I was hoping, would allow me to visit a community or two.  The reality is, though, that I have to find another job that will give me at least 30 hours per week (assuming the same or similar pay scale), or, quite literally I'll be declaring bankruptcy. 

I know without a doubt that God lead me to my current position and wants me there, and I've found something interesting about working in a parish; I've gotten attached. The people that I've met there are amazing and I can't IMAGINE not knowing them. If I leave this job, I'll feel like I'm leaving them. And given that I live so far away from my work, I likely wouldn't often go there after leaving the position. 

So it's a dilemma. I am keeping my eyes open for another full-time job, as guilty as it makes me feel, because the reality is that I can't live on what I'm making and I certainly can't pay down any debt in this way...if anything, debt is getting higher, steadily higher.  And even temp jobs can be challenging; long term temp jobs may actually not work out espcially considering I'll have well-defined end and start days at my current job, as well as the 10 hour per week obligation.  And at the other extreme, temp jobs can be very brief with long hiatuses in between...so...not real lucrative.  

As I was explaining these things to my friend, she pointed out the Solemnity today, Mary's reaction when told she would bear the messiah. How could this be? It's impossible!

But NOTHING is impossible for God. Sometimes he brings us to impossibility so that His glory can be revealed. 

It may very well be that God wills financial disaster for me, because it might bring about a greater good. It may very well be that He has another plan which will go into effect at the very last moment. 

In fact, that's what happened when I got the call to interview for my current position; I was at the end of my rope, I was about to pick up the phone and call my mortgage company and say I couldn't make my next payment, in hopes of some kind of options.  Instead, I was called, and subsequently hired.  Just at the last moment. 

So for now, all I can do is hope, and pray, knowing that if I am truly called to religious life, somehow God will send me on my visit where and when HE deems, and He will likewise show me how to deal with all my financial obligations at the same time. 

When I look at my life, I see nothing but a mountain of impossibility, completely insurmountable.  The only thing that keeps me from outright panic is, quite honestly, just not thinking about it.  As the bills come, I pay them if I can. If I can't pay them, I figure out what can wait and what can't.  And so far, I'm above water.  For now. 

And really...that's better than what a lot of people can say right now. 

Most of all, right now, though, I'm grateful to my dear friend for reminding me that our God is a God of impossibilities, and if He can be born of a virgin then my current problems are nothing but chaff on a breezy day. 

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Annunciation

Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. Behold you shall conceive and bear a son and he will be called the Son of the Most High.

I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done unto me according to thy word.

The words of the angel, words of comfort to a young girl who didn't know what to make of both his greeting and very appearance: "Do not be afraid."

He announced to Mary her role in salvation history, and with great compassion as well as great hope; it is said that all of Heaven held their breath in anticipation, awaiting her response. She had free will, and could have refused such a gift. But through Mary's yes, through her unconditional fiat, she brought salvation into the world in the person of her Son.

Mary's "yes" overturned Eve's "no" and effected the beginning of the reconciliation of man to God.  Her complete and willful obedience was in answer to Eve's complete and willful disobedience. 

We honor her today and are called to ponder in our own hearts this great and joyful mystery. 

Although I have been praying the Sorrowful Mysteries for most of lent, today I will suspend that discipline and pray the Annunciation, over and over again, focusing on that moment in time, that moment of complete surrender and complete trust in God. 

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee!  Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. 

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.  

Amen.