It's Your Call

Life is ultimately the individual’s journey to God. When all its secondary elements—its vain glories and tempting ambitions, even its legitimate obligations and sacred promises—are swept aside, the primal structure of life is dictated by our response to the divine Source from whence we came.

It is with this fact in mind (which has been taught to me by my faith, my earthly mentors, and my own life experience) that I offer this piece of practical advice:

Whenever you find yourself weighed down by negative emotions to the point that they may be hindering your ability to thrive, you must return to the source waters of your identity and go for a swim. Reflect on who you are at your deepest level, what fires your heart and to what and where you feel called to end up. Our vocation is the set of roles and responsibilities that bring forth our truest character, our strongest personality, and our deepest fulfillment. It is the call that, if discerned and followed, will lead us to God.

Thus, at heart, we must often remind ourselves that we are simply men and women in search of our vocation.

There is no shame in exploring this idea, following leads and taking chances to discover where the true path lies. What we might be tempted to see as failure is merely another step on the right path. In fact, the only shame would be to look back at the end of an unfulfilled life and realize the number of opportunities squandered. Instead, let us choose a life marked by the daring choice to find our vocation.

Discernibly,
Joezilla

The Roxbury Question

Occasionally my mind and heart will be assaulted by a very specific and very philosophical question. This week's question was the same one that Will Ferrell and Chris Kattan used to jerk their heads to, namely, "What is love?"

In all seriousness, the concept of "romantic love" is something we all have a general concept of, but do we really understand what it is or where it comes from?  Such was my intention when I began pondering the question.  With the disclaimer that love is somewhat of a mystery and cannot be fully explained, I offer my conclusions below...

Romantic Love is the concept that encapsulates the experience of a man and a woman who intentionally share a one-on-one bond.

In order to be a romantic relationship, it is a friendship augmented by two things:

1.  Some degree of physical attraction.
2.  An emotional attachment (not a dependency, though).

Avoid this feeling at all costs! A romantic relationship needs to consist of two complete people who are happy on their own and content with who they are. Looking for another person to fill a hole in your heart is a recipe for disaster, and is a sure sign that you need to do some soul-work on yourself. Everyone is at this stage at some point in their life. If that's you right now, take an extended period of time (a few months, perhaps) to focus on your relationship to yourself and to God. Become totally happy with yourself, and content being alone. Then you will be ready to start looking.

Thus, the ideal romantic partner has to have the qualities you would find in any good friend—i.e. shared values, good rapport with you, and availability; they must be both attractive and attracted to you; and they must admire you enough to relish the prospect of spending lots of time in your company.

Lest this seem to over-intellectualize the concept of Love, it should be emphasized that discerning all of this is best done by someone who is in touch with their own emotions, brave enough to explore other people's feelings, and willing to accept reality as it comes.  If your life seems to lack romance, work on these three things and be patient.  The right person is out there, don't worry!

Love in its highest form is self-sacrifice and self-giving love for another person; but this expression of love is a long-term phenomenon (that, it should be noted, is present in non-romantic contexts, as well—such as a parent to a child).  One commits to such self-offering at a wedding, but the sacrifice itself takes an entire lifetime.

Question:  How do we know who is the right person to make such an offer to in Marriage?

Answer:  To someone whom we trust to make the same offering in return.

To the best of my knowledge, following what I've discussed here will lead you to find that person, who is right for you (and vice versa).

Have fun out there!
Joezilla

Mary Magdalene, Relics, and the Historicity of Christian Claims

CHRISTIANITY IS A HISTORICAL RELIGION—more so than any other religion, in fact. Christian faith centers on the intersection of supernatural reality and human history: God became a human being at a certain time and place—Jesus of Nazareth—who was killed and rose from the dead. Belief in Jesus, and a relationship with Him, can gain us eternal life. There is no myth here; the central truths of Christianity are stark, simple, and shocking. And make no mistake: Christians must have faith in such doctrines in order to truly be Christians. The first known theologian (and in my opinion the best), St. Paul, put it well in 1 Corinthians, speaking about Jesus’ Resurrection: "If Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith" (1 Cor. 15:14, NIV).

It is this very historicity that came to mind when my Mom notified me about a unique opportunity: for a limited time, a relic of Mary Magdalene (purported to be a leg bone) was being displayed at various parishes near our home. I consulted the website describing this "relic tour," and read a fascinating account of the relic’s history.

The story, which you can read by clicking here, spans the centuries from the time of Christ to the present day. It is filled with unexpected twists of fate and chance discoveries; in other words, it is a completely plausible story.



A marker discovered with Mary Magdalene's remains, which reads: "Here rests the body of Mary Magdalene."


A good story, to be sure…but is it true? Reading this account reminded me of another story I’d heard about a famous saint. Legend has it that St. Peter, sneaking away from Rome at night during a particularly nasty period of government persecution, met Jesus on the road. "Lord, where are you going?" Peter asked. "To Rome, to be persecuted," was the master’s reply. Realizing the error of his way (as Peter and the rest of us so often must do!), the first pope turned on his heels and headed back to Rome, where he was eventually martyred.

I was told that this story "comes from tradition," a phrase which, despite years of theological study, I have never learned the precise meaning of. I believe this may mean that the story first appeared in a non-canonical writing (i.e. a piece of writing about Jesus or the apostles that was not accepted by the Church as divinely-inspired). Some non-canonical writings are absolutely crazy—consult The Gospel of Thomas if you need convincing. But others, such as the Didache—a sort of handbook of early Christian teachings—is relatively innocuous in its ideas. Thus, although uninspired, some non-canonical writings may still contain elements of truth or wisdom. Perhaps such a piece provides the source of the Peter story above.

But the question remains: are these stories true? We must recognize two facts. First: we will never know. We cannot travel back in time to verify them. But secondly, and more importantly: our faith does not stand or fall on the truth of these stories. Like the Marian apparitions or the Divine Mercy visions of St. Faustina, they are historical claims above and beyond the revelation we are "required" believe in. Faithful Catholics can receive insight, consolation, and grace from devotion to such things (and often do), but said devotion is not a requirement of Catholic faith.

But these stories teach us something important, whether they are true or not. They remind us that these people were real historical figures who lived actual lives and played actual roles in developing the faith we now share with them. Mary Magdalene went somewhere after the Ascension; who is to say she didn’t board a boat with Lazarus, the man born blind, and Jesus’ aunt Mary? I’m being completely serious. We simply don’t know, but we do know that she did something—and considering that the Gospel of John says that Mary Magdalene was the first to encounter the risen Lord, I am inclined to think that she played a dynamic role in the Church wherever she went. If the "real" story is not what is printed on the website linked to above, I’d bet dollars to donuts it’s just as good—or even better.

Lest anyone fall into the contemporary trap of assuming that the more skeptical answers are the more plausible ones, I will offer this final thought. One of my best friends once told me about the supposed origins of Christianity in India. The story goes that St. "Doubting" Thomas (who, we must assume, grew into a mature and inspiring faith) traveled to India and spread the good news of Jesus to the people there. When I heard this story, I must confess, I wondered in the back of my mind (with the intellectual pride epidemic in our age) whether such a tale could really be true. After all, I wondered, how would a poor Jewish man in Jerusalem make it all the way to India? Knowing next to nothing about St. Thomas, though, I accepted it as a possibility.

It was only tonight that I discovered, while reading up on the history of the early Christian period, that there was a commonly used trade route connecting the Holy Land with India. Given that, the journey of St. Thomas from Jerusalem to India would be entirely plausible—and, given the existence of the story my friend told me, even likely. I stand corrected, humbled, surprised, and happy—a common stance when doing Theology.

Slowly but surely, I am learning that Truth is stranger than fiction.

Faithfully,
Joezilla

Hidden In Plain Sight

Today I woke up early.  Very early.  We’re talking three-hours-of-sleep early.  I had to attend a religious education workshop at a local church, but a driveway full of snow required a slight adjustment of wake-up time.  The early morning shoveling, however, proved quite invigorating, and I enjoyed a busy but generally alert and comfortable day.  The three hours of sleep had not caught up with me…yet.

At midnight I went to adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, which always proves to be a peaceful time of fulfilling fellowship with God.  After about half an hour, though, I was overcome by an overpowering tiredness that put me to sleep like chloroform, the tolerant sort of sleep that doesn’t mind a bent neck or slouching posture.  I was out like a light.

I was awakened by someone else entering the adoration chapel, but only for a moment.  Soon, I was back asleep.  That’s when I had the dream…

I dreamt of a great crowd of people, which I was a part of, walking in a building, maybe a hallway.  We were all walking to various destinations, perhaps a bit hurried.  There was something we weren’t noticing.

I think I woke up at this point, noted the strange something that we’d all missed in my dream, and went back to sleep.  I started dreaming the same sort of dream.

I became gradually aware that each person in this crowd was going about the business of their own day.  But I was acutely aware this time of our utter failure to notice something big and obvious that was almost hanging right by us.  We were walking right by it, oblivious, simply going about our daily routines.  But there was still something there.

I woke up once more.  This time I was well aware of the riddle of the dream—and, for some unknown reason, intensely interested in discovering what this missing something was.  Still deliriously tired, I decided to dip back into the subconscious world for a final time, resolved to learn what that missing something was.

I was back.  We were still walking right by it, unaware of its presence.  Then I realized--this was the presence of God in our lives.  We were going through our days largely oblivious to the most obvious, most important part of our experience--God, the Creator, Sustainer, and Savior of the world.  It is Him we need most, and on Whom we most rely, and yet we pass the majority of our lives forgetful of His intimate presence in our hearts, minds, and souls.

Even though I am still extremely tired, barely able to stay awake as I type this, the magnitude of this experience transcends the capabilities of the written word, resulting in an account that is inherently inadequate.  Nonetheless, I write it down as both a reference point for myself (in hopes that this will remind me of the actual experience, which was a powerful spiritual reminder) and as a potential source of inspiration for any readers who may or may not exist out there.

St. Ignatius of Loyola crafted a spiritual exercise known as the Examen, which is a deliberate, meditative review of one’s day.  The purpose of the meditation is to discover how God was working in one’s life on any given day.  Positive experiences, known as consolations, are obviously portals for God’s grace to enter into our lives.  However, negative experiences or desolations, are also possible entry points for grace.  Learning to find God in both the positive and the negative, then, is the art of the Examen.  The prayer continues with a petition to God for forgiveness of one’s sins in the day, and a resolution to live the future in accordance with God’s will.

Prayers like the Examen are quite useful.  They can reorient our perspectives to find God in all things, both good and bad.  He is, after all, everywhere.  And how often do we go about our business day to day, completely unaware of His presence?  How often are we one of those people from my dream, walking through a hallway unaware of the hidden-in-plain-sight presence of God—life-giving, life-sustaining, life-transforming?  It’s the ultimate act of ungratefulness to forget our God.  But He still loves us.  He even still reaches out to us.  That is an amazing fact—proven time and again to those who seek His face—and it is a fact which should give us hope.  In spite of our fallen nature, which entices us to turn from God again and again, He loves us and reaches out to us.  Let’s try our best today not to forget Him.

Final note: As stated above, there was something surreal about this whole affair, to the point that I classify it less as an inspiring dream and more as a straight-up spiritual experience.  Rarely are we able to revisit dreams to fulfill a certain intention; more rarely still do dreams present us with such an obvious question or riddle, much less a clear solution.  I hope that the weight of this experience comes through in the words I have written.  If not, have faith that God works in very real ways, as He did with me tonight—and be receptive to what He’s trying to tell you today.

God bless,

Joezilla

From Worry to Righteousness

In the 6th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (6:25-34) and the 12th of Luke's (12:22-34), Jesus speaks a monologue that, if taken seriously, can fundamentally change the nature and feel of our experience. It is in these passages that we can truly see that Christ calls his followers to more than mere belief and practice—he requires single-minded devotion that, if adopted, leads down only one road: the path of an exceptional life. This word “exceptional” is not to be taken lightly, because within it lies the paradox and the point of Christian life in this world.

Christ calls us to live exceptional lives. We should not take “exceptional” merely to mean “exceedingly good;” on the contrary, we must understand “exceptional” to mean, as the Doubleday Dictionary will testify: “unusual or uncommon, esp. in a superior way.” An exceptional life is more than an atypical life—it is a life which generally ignores conventions and precedents, breaking some and following others, merely because it is not guided by such petty things. It is a life that is wondered at by most, frowned upon by many, applauded by few, and truly understood by even fewer. It is an enigmatic existence. For some, it is too revolutionary; for others, not revolutionary enough. But revolution in this sense is not its end, nor its means, nor its concern. Some might admire such dismissal of societal norms for the sheer audacity of it all, but those who truly understand exceptionalism see that outside reactions are totally irrelevant to the follower of Christ. The exceptional human being is more like Henry David Thoreau, in happy solitude at Walden Pond, than like the flashy Vietnam protester yelling in the streets. “It was never between you and them, anyway—it was between you and God.” (Mother Teresa)

Christian exceptionalism is not childish rebellion or self-righteous protest; on the contrary, it is a quiet and peaceful resolution to follow the precepts of a higher reality, a Truth that has been revealed, and that makes every other affair in this world seem charmingly unimportant by comparison. So what does this sort of person look like? One might play upon the outskirts of truth by recalling what Tony Bennett once said in an interview: that he had always tried to make his voice sound unique. He knew that if he tried to sing like everyone else, he would end up just another nameless member of a chorus somewhere. But by cultivating a unique and personal sound, he has become one of the most popular and long-lived entertainers of the 20th century—his music spanning decades and eras, and continuing to this day.

Now this example is not meant to idealize the goal of worldly success or glory, but of maximizing one’s potential effectiveness in a given area. As Bennett did with singing, the Christian must do with life. And a key part of an effective life is obeying a higher order of reality than that of this world, and that necessarily makes our lives exceptional. The time comes for everyone to step out of the chorus and sing solo.

Society tells us to seek money and worldly success; Scripture tells us to despise it (Mt. 6:24). Society has “liberated” us to follow our passions; Scripture tells us to crucify these passions (Gal. 5:24). Society tells us that what we see is all there is to believe; Scripture tells us that what we don’t see is all that is worth believing in (2 Cor. 4:18).

If we hear the Truth and honestly accept it, we must base our lives upon it. And that may put us in situations that are uncomfortable—but if we remember that it is the eternal which we desire, not the temporal, then any momentary discomfort will seem far less dire (2 Cor. 4:17).

This brings us back to that 1st passage mentioned at the beginning, in which Jesus tells us not to worry about tomorrow, about our worldly concerns and temporal endeavors. Stop and think about how often you actually live like that. The 10 Commandments we can mostly handle; the Beatitudes are tough, but doable in theory; but this—this is something entirely different. Jesus is not just calling us to reform our behavior toward higher ideals, he is now directing us to change our basic attitudes. Jesus is calling for a fundamental conversion of our philosophy of life: a turning from tension to ease, from anxiety to gratitude, from worry to righteousness. What could be more counter-cultural than that, and what could be more difficult?

Everyone worries about something, it seems. But Christ’s admonishment on the Mount blows our worry out of the water of consciousness by showing us that incessant worry is a form of idolatry; if something other than God and His righteousness dominates our thoughts on a given day, we are placing an idol on a pedestal above the cross. That is why Jesus refers to the worrywarts as “you of little faith.” Not only do they lack the faith that God will deliver them from their troubles, but they also lack the devotion to think of God (and, thus, His compassion and power) on a regular basis. Such moment-to-moment consideration of God would be enough to obliterate any worry.

Perhaps the most appealing part of this monologue, though, it its practical sense. As humans, we have struggled, probably since our caveman days, with worry. We have strained against the door of uncertainty, trying with every ounce of our being to get through it and discover how our problems turn out. Jesus is essentially telling us that this door is opened and closed by only One, Who alone knows what is best, and actually wants this for each one of us. So there’s no need to strain. We can stand calmly and enjoy our surroundings, catch our breath, patiently waiting for the door to be opened. Then we can step inside and enjoy the present moment, the quiet joy of watching the will of God unfold.

Weather or Not

I can definitely see the sun today.

What on earth am I talking about, you ask (if, indeed, there is anyone reading this to ask)? Simply this: my life right now feels like a clear day, in which I can see far ahead down the road.

And the future looks bright. Now beginning my second year of grad school, I will be applying for jobs in mere months. It occurred to me today that in less than a year I will likely know where my first full-time job will be. In other words, I will soon be approaching one of the biggest milestones I've ever reached. Best of all, I am confident that however it ends up, the outcome will be favorable and graced.

Like I said, it's a sunny day right now.

But not everyone can feel the sun's rays. We've all had times in our lives when things don't seem so clear, so happily secure. Negativity and bad breaks sometimes add up to the point that we doubt ourselves, our authenticity, and our purpose. These blue-grey days are tough to endure, because they sap us of our energy. Bereft of a dynamic spirit, we are tempted to despair. The human machine, being imperfect, sometimes weighs our spirit down in this way. But our spirit was meant to fly, and to take this mortal coil along for the trip. So when we get down, we need to turn to God to lift us up again. And He will, because He's always there--even when we aren't aware of Him.

Anyone who feels like their life lacks direction or purpose, take heart. You're in the middle of a cloudy day, that's all. Once the weather clears up, you'll see that the sun was up there the whole time. God's watching over you, even though you can't always feel His presence. Just keep doing your best, and things are going to clear up! How do I know? Because I've seen the sun. And once you've seen the sun, you can't get fooled by cloudy days.

Warmly,
Joezilla

Simply Entertaining

Sometimes it’s good to keep it simple. In the days of jaw-dropping, mega-budget, knock-your-socks-off, blow-you-away, over-hyphenate-your-phrases blockbusters like The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises (and in light of their impressive success at the box office), I was starting to wonder if every action film would now be an attempt to top those which preceded it (a feat that Avengers essentially accomplished, and Rises definitely tried to accomplish). After all, this trend had been building for the better part of a decade—look no further than the climax of Pirates of the Caribbean 3, which featured Jack Sparrow dueling a man with a computer-animated octopus head on the mast of a ship that is simultaneously caught in a whirlpool and being attacked by both another ship and a mythical sea beast. And, oh yeah, it’s raining. Is that a run-on sentence? Yes, but only because it describes a run-on scene.

The Avengers would seem the epitome of such excessive filmmaking, but it manages to dodge this bullet (so to speak) with an ensemble of likable characters, the wittiest script since True Grit, and, amidst its super-sized muscles and explosions, a clear purpose and objective in every scene. The viewer’s questions are rarely left unanswered, and every piece of action serves some purpose in telling the story. You can call The Avengers excessive, if you want. But it’s excessive like a good buffet, which is to say extremely satisfying and quite fulfilling every now and then.

But not every movie can be The Avengers. And as Dark Knight Rises demonstrated, in the arena of summer blockbusters, there’s only room for one impending nuclear threat. If audiences are routinely presented with nuclear bombs aimed at Manhattan, the whole prospect will just become sort of blasé. And that, we can agree, is a bad thing—both for movies and national security.

But the fact is, not every action movie can top its predecessors. When makers of such films attempt to “keep up with the Joneses,” the result is a very stale crop of movies. And is there anything worse than being bored by an action movie?

In the aftermath of Avengers and Rises, then, it would seem that the ironic goal of the next big action movie would have to be minimalism. Enter The Bourne Legacy, starring Jeremy Renner (a.k.a. Hawkeye from The Avengers). Legacy is just what the PG-13 action genre needed right now—a simple and direct story that is modest in plot, scale, and action.

The story of Bourne Legacy is very simple: the government is trying to track Renner down, so he has to escape. Along for the ride is the beautiful and apparently ageless Rachel Weisz, who spends 90% of the film gaping like a deer in headlights—but in a very appealing way.

The plot also seems less serious, less seething with anti-waterboarding rage, than its predecessors. Of course, the sinister government officials (a trademark of the Bourne series) are still there, gravely staring at giant video-walls as they always do. But the whole affair seems less like it’s trying to tell us something serious, and more like it’s just trying to give us a fun time. And generally, that’s what we want in a movie.

The scale of Bourne Legacy is simple, as well. Going against the globe-trotting grain of recent films (such as Mission: Impossible 4, another excellent action film co-starring Renner…hmm, noticing a pattern here?), Legacy features only one plane ride. The bulk of the action takes place in Manila, a suitably dusty urban setting for the rooftop gymnastics, fast-paced car-chases, and perfectly-calculated arrivals that are another trademark of the Bourne movies. But the setting is relatively understated.

Most important of all, though, the action is simple. Basically, this movie is the anti-Pirates 3. Its climax is a motorcycle chase. No nukes aimed at the Big Apple. No world-devouring alien approaching from a black hole. Just a bad guy, a good guy, and a pretty woman, weaving through crowded traffic on cycles. It’s a scene that could have appeared on the big screen fifty years ago, and it’s just as effective now as it was then.

It’s nice to see that we haven’t completely lost our ability to enjoy the simple things in life.

Happily,
Joezilla

P.S.: How wonderful it is to see a chaste romance in a Hollywood movie! Once again, Bourne Legacy manages to deliver the goods without overdoing it. Let’s hope this is a trend that catches on. Keep praying, though… ;)