Monday, April 24, 2017

We Need a Few More Optimists

Like you, I did a lot of traveling over Easter break.

They call it “rubbernecking.” That’s what we instinctually do when we’re driving in a car and pass by an accident. We strain our necks trying to peer out and catch sight of the victims of the crash.

I think we see many analogous versions of rubbernecking all around us. What is the attraction of so many of the “reality shows” that are on TV today? Why does the Jerry Springer show get good ratings? I went on line to see the story line of some recent Springer episodes: “Lipstick Lesbians,” “I Slept with your Brother’s Boyfriend,” “Your Husband Knocked Me Up,” and “Out of Control Catfights.” Why do we watch these shows? Why do we care about the lives of pathetic people living wrecked lives? Psychologists say it’s partly because we enjoy feeling superior to others. When we watch “humilitainment,” as one person called it, we feel better about ourselves at the expense of someone else.

The problem is when there’s a car accident, and when drivers-by rubberneck, the police will tell you that there are often more wrecks, as people aren’t paying attention to where they are driving.

And there’s a parable in there somewhere, I think. When we become fascinated by the misery of others, when we focus on what is wrong about someone else’s life, it’s easy to lose sight of where we are going. And when we are swamped by the wreckage of other people’s lives, when we become accustomed to what is twisted and sad, it’s too easy for us to define deviancy down, too easy to set low bars for ourselves about what is right and good.

In contrast, Scripture tells us that “ whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. (Phillipians 4:8)

I will be honest with you. I find that verse challenging. I have a tendency to go right to the negative. My kids will tell you if we’re watching TV, I often make cutting remarks about people, disputing the claims they’re making, ridiculing their motives. I need-all of us, I think, need—to be in the presence of optimists, people that see the good in others despite their flaws, people who help us focus on what is beautiful and not what is ugly.

Our world needs a few more optimists. I think that’s true of high schools, too, especially at this time of year as we become stressed about A.P exams, final exams, failing, or making a team. When we’re too busy or tired, it’s easy to become cranky, self-centered, mean-spirited, ugly with each other. Let’s work to be the opposite. Let’s go out of way to compliment, to thank, to congratulate, to become people that dwell on what's honorable, pure or excellent in others.

I'll be praying for you these next couple of weeks. The year is almost over. Work hard.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

He is Alive!

Happy Easter, 2017!

Growing up in our house, music was always an important way we celebrated Easter. My father would wake us up with "He is alive!" from the album "Celebrate Life," and for the rest of the day, the music would be blaring an eclectic mix of music both contemporary and ancient, reminding us of the joy of Christ's resurrection. Both as a way of remembering Dad and celebrating Easter, I've compiled a list of some of his favorites for Easter--and truth be told, some of my favorites as well.

 So here's what we woke up to every Easter morning as kids:

 

This next glorious hymn, "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling", written by Charles Wesley in 1747, makes me choke up every time we sing the last stanza in Church.

The last verse reads: "Finish, then, Thy new creation; Pure and spotless let us be. Let us see Thy great salvation, Perfectly restored in Thee; Changed from glory into glory, Till in heaven we take our place, Till we cast our crowns before Thee, Lost in wonder, love, and praise."

 

When I was younger, I played in a contemporary Christian music group called "Canticle". This version of "He is Alive" by Don Francisco was one we played frequently during Easter time:

 

Rather simply play the near entirety of Handel's Messiah, here's two pieces that are "must listen to" pieces every Easter:

First, "The Trumpet Shall Sound," beginning with the magnificent proclamation "Behold, I shall tell you a mystery!"



And of course, the Hallelujah Chorus:



If we don't sing "Jesus Christ has Risen Today!" at Mass every Sunday during the Easter season, I feel cheated:

 

And finally, this beautiful song, recorded at Sacred Heart Catholic Church on the Mobile Bay as part of the "Vigil Project." The song is called "I Have Seen the Lord."


He is risen up again! 

Monday, March 13, 2017

Calling us home!

This is my talk to students on the second Monday of Lent, St. Michael Catholic High School, March 13, 2017

“The measure by which you measure will be measured out for you.” (Luke 6:38)


This is from the gospel reading today.

I wonder if we realize what we’re praying for each time we recite the “Our Father” : “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. “ What are we asking God to do? To forgive us to the extent that we forgive others! To treat us exactly the same. Ouch. I wonder if we really want God to do that.

There’s a story of an older man who dies and meets St. Peter at the pearly gates of heaven. St. Peter has the man’s resume in front of him, and he’s looking it over. “To get in”, Peter tells the man, you have to have accumulated 1000 points over the course of your life. State your case” “OK,”  the man thinks, “I’ve been pretty good, I think I can reach that standard,” so he says to Peter, “Well, I’ve been a faithful husband to my wife for over 50 years.”  “Excellent, “ says St. Peter. “That’s one point.” The man gulps--one point? “Uh, I’ve been a good father to my children, provided for them well, raised them in the faith.”  “Yes you have,” Peter says, “I can see that here in your resume. Another point. “ Panicked now, the man says “I’ve been a faithful Catholic all my life. I’ve kept the Sunday obligation, tithed to my church, supported the Church in its various ministries.”  Peter says, “Yes, you’ve been quite admirable in this regard. Another point. “ “Three points?” the man says in utter despair. “A good husband, good father, faithful Catholic, and all I have is 3 lousy points? It's impossible to get in, then, unless God decides to let us pass."  As soon as he says this, the pearly gates swing open wide. “997 points,” St. Peter says. “Welcome, good and faithful servant.”

God is merciful. God forgives. Fortunately, the dominant image of God the Father from the New Testament  is not one of a judge who metes out justice, giving us what we deserve, but the Father who stands on his porch, waiting for his prodigal son to return home, and upon seeing him, runs to greet him and then throws a big party for him!

But most of us, I believe, have a different view of things. It’s like our lives are a cosmic see-saw, with good on one side and bad on the other. If we die, the see-saw better be weighted down on the good side, in which case we’re going to heaven. If it’s weighted on the bad side, we’re going to hell. It’s as if God is a giant Santa Claus, “making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.”

But this is actually a heresy--it’s called Pelagianism--because it suggests that we ourselves are responsible for our salvation--that we can “earn” it by being good. We can’t. Only God’s grace can save us. Only God’s mercy can save us.

But that is very good news, because God is merciful. No matter who we are, no matter what we’ve done, God forgives us. Whatever sins weigh us down, if we ask God for forgiveness, he forgives us completely. Completely! He doesn’t just drag it to the trash can of our computer drive, where it can be retrieved if we open up our trash. It’s erased, and gone for-ever. FOR--EV--ER (for those of you who have seen Sandlot).

So that’s the good news of Lent. It's very good news! Maybe you've done something you're not proud of. Sin shames us, eating a way a bit of our self-respect, each and every time we do it. But God stands on the porch, scanning the horizons like a hopeful Father,  hoping that you will return to him. He's ready to run down the driveway to welcome us home. 

May God give all of us the grace this Lent to journey back to him.