A Song of Late October

A Song of Late October.

Upon the sun’s descending leave,
A hoot rings in October eve.
And out, against a lively breeze,
I venture through the fired trees.

Howls building from the south,
Issued from a hungry mouth,
Kindle daring mixed with fear:
The season of mystery is here.

Day by day, the rising tide
of color, cold, and fancy hide
anticipation for the night
of costume, candy, pumpkin light.

*    *    *

Howls fading from the north,
Old Man Winter plodding forth,
Trading chills for milder winds—
The season of thanks begins!

Loneliness: The Millennial's Plague

Loneliness is the virus that is killing our generation.

The online connections we can make, while they help us stay in touch, have also hyper-exposed us to one another.

We can have a 2-minute conversation with a stranger and gain access to a library of their likes and dislikes merely by friending them on Facebook.

After setting up a date, we can go ahead and find out everything we would've learned on that date. Rather than hearing it from the person, studying their face and looking into their eyes--connecting like real human beings, in other words--we can find out everything we think we need to know online. And then we wonder why we're so awkward with each other.

This is not another anti-Facebook rant. FB is not the enemy, but merely a piece of technology, a tool. It can be used for good or bad.

The enemy is much deeper and more sophisticated. The enemy wants us to feel disconnected, inadequate, lonely.

The enemy wants to make us forget that we are loved.

I have felt the signature emotion of our generation. It is a deep longing, buried so as to be almost invisible to us, in the back of our hearts. Its calls echo up to our minds and manifest themselves through our desperate measures in search of connection.

The longing burns like an inferno within us, and we long for connection, communion. But we aren't looking for it in the right places.

Consider the picture above. Yes, it's funny, but think about what it implies: that guy is miserable unless he can turn someone on. If we think that way, then we truly will be "forever alone," whether we find someone or not. The egotistical joys of pleasure are fleeting, and leave us feeling worse in the long run.

We think that romance will quench the fire. We look for a date. Sometimes we get absolutely desperate. We try. Sometimes we fail.

And we might find someone, even the right person, but we soon wake up and realize that, despite the ring on our finger, we are still the same. Life goes on. Turns out Marriage, wonderful as it is, doesn't complete our happiness like we thought it would. And that fire still burns.

We turn to friendships, sometimes. They help. They give us a true connection like Marriage, and they are an essential part of life, but they still do not complete us.

And so that feeling remains. You know it well. It's the one that somehow, time and again, gets you to scroll down that Newsfeed, looking...for what? The moment you stop, you realize that the Newsfeed is an infinite void that promises something, but never really delivers.

There is a deep emptiness within every individual. We are tricked into thinking it's our job to fill this emptiness, but we are running against a brick wall if we try. This space can only be filled. We cannot fulfill ourselves.

I believe in a personal God. God is personal because He is a person, He knows you as a person, and is open to relating to you that way. And there is nothing and no one in the universe powerful enough and big enough to fill that emptiness that burns inside you except for Him.

He made the space infinitely large so that He could fill it, complete our personalities with supernatural Love. Nothing else is going to cure our loneliness.

So how do we start to cultivate this relationship, if the loneliness we face has been weighing us down lately?

The answer is the opposite of what you would expect: go off alone for a while. Take a walk every day for a week or month, visiting public places and secluded natural hideaways. Eat a meal alone without reading or playing with a smartphone. And then, when your distractions and self-consciousness have melted away, you will start reaching for Him. You see, God is always there, but sometimes we shut Him out and the only way to get ourselves seeing Him again is to go back to the basics.

"You will seek me and you will find me," says The LORD, "when you seek me with all of your heart."

~ Jeremiah 29:13

Hail, Holy Queen

Hail, Holy Queen

Hail, Holy Queen, of mercy’s longed-for sweetness mother,
Hail to the living hope that soothes us like no other.

To thee we bring our anguish, as our fallen temple sighs,
To thee we open careworn hearts and focus bloodshot eyes.

Turn then, Blessed Mother, through your graceful intercession,
The eyes of mercy toward us as we offer this confession

To the One Who knew our fall and rise before the world was new,
The living God of Abraham Who came to life in you.

O clemens, O pia,
O dulcis Virgo Maria.

Amen

On the Feast of Saint John

On the Feast of Saint John

If ever kindly voice or act
Hath helped a stinging pain subtract,
And love to flower in its place,
Then know, I pray, its Source was grace.

The gnarled, hardened roots of pride
Have halted men of hopeful stride
Who dared to labor and to love,
But gazed inside and not above.

Oh! What suffering may cease
The day I say "I must decrease."
Oh! What springs erupt of peace
The day I say, "He must increase."

Why are you a Christian?

Today we echo Michael Scott's question to Toby on The Office, "Why are you the way that you are?"

If someone were to ask you why you are a Christian, what would you say?

If you are a Christian, you might be rather paradoxically dumbstruck in your attempt to answer. Do not feel bad; like me, you just haven't approached the question in a while. But now that you have been reminded of it, you have a duty to furnish an adequate and genuine response: "Always be ready to give a reason for the hope that is in you," as 1 Peter 3:15 says.

What follows is my reason.

God is present; His presence is as real to me as my own personality. My personality cannot be seen directly, touched or physically sensed in any way. But its effects are obvious to all who spend any measure of time with me.

God is the same way; the Father is not physically present (with the exception of Sacraments, which are a more complicated issue and require a deeper discussion). However, to say that God cannot exist because He cannot be physically accounted for is absurd. Surely we do not hold all things to such a careful standard as some seem to hold God.

The average atheist will discard God as a fairy tale because He is not an empirically verifiable reality. But the same atheist will then appeal to the ideal of Human Rights (quite rightly) in order to decry genocide in Africa. Where are human rights? What energy or matter comprises them? Can we find them if we search really, really hard?

Of course not. Neither can we find God. Like a pen pal on the other side of the world, God is there, communicating with us, even though we don't see His face. The cool part is that once we commit to a relationship with Him, God's presence invades our life more clearly than before, infusing our moments of sorrow with power and strength, and our moments of joy with perspective. That is precisely what happened to me when, in high school, I traded in my outmoded model of passive faith for a dynamic, searching love of Jesus Christ.

I am a Christian because I can feel God's presence, and believing in Jesus has only made God clearer to me. I am honored to say that Jesus is the Lord and Savior of the human race. I thank Him for the life he gives me, and the opportunity to praise him.

Jesus loves you! Reach out to him, and you will realize that, all your life, he has been reaching out to you.

Sincerely,
Joezilla

From Idolatry to Adoration

Today the Lord led me to an important moment of conversion which restored a peace of mind, heart, and body that I haven't known in a very long time. The funny thing is that I had been seeking such peace quite assiduously. Searching in all the wrong places, though, I had come up empty-handed--not to mention rather high-strung and stressed. Now I do not lead a very trying existence. So when I find myself in such a state of mind, it means something must be done. But the wrong antidote will not cure a poison, no matter how much you take. Thankfully, the Divine Pharmacist provided me with the perfect tonic.

I am a Minister of Care at a local hospital, which means I visit the patients and give them Holy Communion. Lately I have fallen short in meeting my monthly and quite minimal time commitment. But, as sometimes happens in the spiritual life of any religious person, duty led to devotion.

Praying the night before for inspiration and grace sufficient to the task, I was struck as never before by the serious privilege it is to carry Christ's body and blood to those who desire him. The thought struck me--as I walk the halls of the hospital, I'm carrying God in my pocket!

*          *          *

There is a legitimate strain in contemporary Christian thought that emphasizes God's transcendence, which puts a particular stress on our complete inability to grasp the nature of God. It is, as I say, legitimate because we are all too quick to remake God as we desire. To box God in like this is to cripple our spiritual lives. Ritual becomes stale and loses its sense of communal significance, "ever ancient and ever new;" prayer becomes manipulation of a god we have crafted ourselves. The illusion of controlling God grows old rather quickly, and we find ourselves praying less and less.

Recognizing the fact that God is transcendent frees us from the fool's notion that we can control God, and injects the mystery that is a necessary part of true love. Couple that with the recognition that God is Good, and--spiritually speaking--we start cooking with gas. An uncontrollable but supremely good Father is a great person to lean on, to talk to all day, and most importantly to trust. When we hand over the keys to God, things get interesting...and better.

What does all this have to do with carrying God in your pocket? Simply this: amidst all the good advice about not boxing God in, it is tempting to scoff at the notion of the Eucharist. "God in your pocket? Hah! Who do you think you are? You think that a puny human ritual can cram God, in all His transcendence, down into a coin-sized wafer?" (Apparently the part of The Skeptic is played tonight by the Incredible Hulk.)

But our Christian skeptic is making a serious theological error. "Is God truly transcendent?" we might ask him. "If so, then what better way to transcend our notions of divinity than by shrinking down to a wafer and offering Himself to us as food?"

I accept the notion of the Eucharist because my Church teaches its validity. But I consider it reasonable because of its strangeness. Who would dream up such an idea, and why? The Apostles and early Christians literally risked life and limb to pass this tradition down to us. And I totally buy it.

So, carrying God in my pocket today, as I have done so many times in the past, I felt more than ever the "peace that surpasses all understanding." It took hold of me like never before. I constantly must remind myself in this ministry that it's not about me, and that what I "get" out of the experience neither measures nor affects the grace of the Sacrament for those receiving it. But today, God reached me from the other side of the Eucharist.

All those months--years, perhaps?--I had turned to various idols looking for self-made deliverance from self-made problems: health, relationships, money, experiences. But Ecclesiastes is right--all is truly vanity, at least without God. Pope Francis puts it well in his new encyclical:

Once man has lost the fundamental orientation which unifies his existence, he breaks down into the multiplicity of his desires; in refusing to await the time of promise, his life-story disintegrates into a myriad of unconnected instants. Idolatry, then, is always polytheism, an aimless passing from one lord to another. Idolatry does not offer a journey but rather a plethora of paths leading nowhere and forming a vast labyrinth.

Best wishes to you, Dear Reader, as we strive together to recover and retain the epicenter of our existence, Christ Jesus. See you at Communion.

Sincerely,
Joezilla

The 100-Year-Old Tweet

In the 1920s, saxophonist Frankie Trumbauer was the cat’s meow.  Along with other early jazz musicians like the awesomely-named Bix Beiderbecke, Trumbauer enjoyed a brief stint of popularity that earned him a permanent place in jazz history.  His most notable tune, “Singin’ the Blues,” has recently captivated my attention in an inexplicable way.  I strongly suggest you listen to the song (by clicking here) while reading this post.  Not only will it set the tone and give more meaning to my meandering musings, but it will also get your toe tapping.

While Trumbauer’s music may sound lovably quaint and vaguely predictable to our modern ears—which have soaked in a musical atmosphere that is both more developed and less refined than that of the 1920s—it was rather edgy in its time.

As a fan of early jazz, I often wonder about the musicians that wrote and performed this bouncy and light-hearted music, and the young people who absorbed it as the “cool” music of their day.  Working with such old audio, it is difficult to imagine that this was all real.  The grainy recordings, with their muted articulations, poor balance, and general “over-the-phone” impression, seem to me the faint and fading transmissions of a distant and alien people—no less vivid and human than I am—but sadly unable to convey that humanity fully on account of impotent technology.

However, there is a bright side to this heretofore melancholy discussion, and that is simply this: We’re talking about music, and music can be resurrected like the Phoenix by any interested musician.  And that is perhaps the greatest way to forge a connection with these long lost musicians and listeners that I’ve been referring to.  Play the music again, here, now.

Today I was transcribing (i.e. listening to and figuring out the notes to a song) Trumbauer’s “Singin’ the Blues” on alto saxophone.  After blowing through Trumbauer’s first chorus, I was grinning with delight to be playing such outrageously outdated music in the 21st century.  But in truth, music is never outdated—as long as someone is still playing it.  As long as it resonates in someone’s heart and echoes back in their humming, strumming, blowing, or plunking, the sound gap has been bridged, the era barrier toppled.  A connection has been made across time, and the experience and energy of our ancestors is retweeted for a new generation.

The word “tradition” comes from the Latin verb trado which, devoid of any connotations, literally means “to hand over.”  Tradition is precisely that, the handing over of some treasured knowledge, wisdom, or practice to those who come after.  Obviously, not everything can be handed down from one generation to the next.  Rod Stewart (whom, trust me, you do not want to Google image-search) wisely reminds us in “Forever Young,”

And when you finally fly away, I’ll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime, no one can ever tell.

Nonetheless, it is the duty of every person to hand down to their successors all that they needed to survive and thrive, and hopefully whatever they learned along the way—for by way of persistent regret or contented nostalgia, the most important lessons of life have a way of sticking with us to the end.

Christians know all about tradition.  Catholics even like to capitalize the word, and they are wise to do so.  Tradition (thus capitalized) refers not merely to teachings that are written in books or spoken by sages; Tradition is the entire life of the Church, the acts of liturgy, the works of service, and the mysterious but unmistakable presence and personality of Christ that remains in the heart of every genuine Christian.

Think about this: how is it that most anyone who believes in Christ can, with little difficulty, answer the question “What would Jesus do” in a given situation?  The answer is that we have been taught who Jesus was, how he acted, what his presence was like, by our elders.  And where did our elders receive this precious information?  From their elders.  If we continue the inquiry, the chain continues backward through history until we bump into the Apostles, hastily preaching the Good News to anyone who would listen, and finally we reach Christ himself—the source and ever-present life of our Church.

Open up the Bible to the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12), and go live one of those out today.  Put that written word into practice.  Retweet the love of Christ through your own actions.  Those who come after you will appreciate it.