On Planning and Providence

A few weeks ago, I noticed two tasks fell due on the same day: my tax preparer's request for my documents, and the A.D. Times' request for an article. To provide maximum bandwidth for both tasks, I decided to address one sooner than the other. 

My taxes won out because of this verse: “Let me fall into the hand of the Lord, whose mercy is very great, rather than into the hands of men” (1 Chronicles 21:13). Those who failed to receive this article would be more forgiving than Uncle Sam’s great-grandchildren. But then the verse inspired the article.

 

The above citation was King David’s response to the prophet Gad, who presented David three options of divine punishment for the census he had ordered. The king chose “the Lord’s own sword,” a three-day sweeping plague, over three years of famine or three months of his enemies’ pursuit.

 

What was the big deal over a census? Same as ever: leaders want to figure out the money and militia they can extract from their citizens. In the appropriately named Book of Numbers, the Lord Himself ordered Moses to count the Israelites for those very purposes.

 

In place of the firstborn of all Israel, the Lord took as tribute the priestly tribe of Levi, who were exempted from military service and therefore also from that census. Through Moses, the Lord directed the firstborn to give the Levites a quantity of shekels as a sacrificial offering for their redemption, and, practically speaking, as part of the Levites’ sustenance.

 

The chain of charges continues: To obtain everything necessary for its budget (salaries, utilities, goods and services, etc.), our diocese assigns a fair standard percentage from the parishes, which in turn do what they can to provide for their own needs in addition to the above assessment.

 

The Diocese requires from parishes annual spiritual and fiscal reports to guide future plans. The recent “Disciple-Maker Index” intends to help parishes and individual disciples consider how we are doing by the important metric of what we are doing.

 

Did the Lord order these censuses? If not, will we lose a third of our faithful in punishment? As it is, surveys estimate only a third of self-identified Catholics attend Mass and/or believe in the Eucharistic Presence of Christ offered therein.

 

Here we are following a maxim of Saint Teresa of Avila: “The bread of self-knowledge should be eaten with every meal,” which has this modern parallel: “The room for improvement should be the largest room in the house.”

 

With due respect to David’s doings and resultant prophecies, I do not deem assessments to defy divine providence. It is awesome to think how much and how long God has trusted us to continue the Incarnation and Paschal Mystery in the world.

 

Our modern efforts to plan things aren’t so modern after all. We still would rather fall by the hand of the Lord, whose requirements are matched, if not surpassed, by His graces.

Fruitfulness in Home and Church

We have mentioned before that this is the “Springtime of the Church,” what with First Holy Communions, Baptisms and Confirmations, and soon, Ordinations. Next week, Bishop Barres will ordain two men to the Diaconate: Brendon Laroche and Jared Zambelli. In June, he will ordain four men to the Priesthood: James Harper (from HGA), Daniel Kravatz, Kevin Lonergan, and Mark Searles. We pray that the Church will experience continued fruitfulness in every respect.

The theme of fruitfulness is apt for our reflection today (Sunday readings here). Americans are celebrating Mothers Day. Mothers cooperate most intimately in the generation and development of human beings. They are often the first to teach prayers, to drag children to Mass, and otherwise to give example of humanity and holiness. They can be a child’s most reliable seamstress, boo-boo kisser, and constructive critic. The image of a shepherd’s recognizable voice certainly applies to the Mom who calls for the kids to come in for dinner (or, perhaps, who texts them to come downstairs for it). Many a mother has wept for and pleaded with a child who has strayed from the faith or from the family. Mothers tend to want abundant life for their children, in imitation of the desire Jesus expressed for His brothers and sisters: “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” (Jn 10:10). Mothers (and fathers) understandably want their children to prosper in every imaginable way.

When it comes to spiritual, particularly vocational fruitfulness, I can’t help but wonder if, in many cases, parents don’t consider, much less endorse, the priesthood and consecrated life for their children—at least not for long, before other ideas smack it down. My guess is that the prospect of grandchildren has the most appeal, although some might prefer their kids to have a more lucrative career or something else. I’ll bet that some parents could have a deep-seated, fearful aversion to the idea that “one of my children should become a priest/nun.” The reasons for such an aversion are worth exploring, but that’s a post for another day.

I can speak only for myself and, I trust, for my family. My late father didn’t often share tender sentiments, but he was visibly proud of me and honored the path I took. Any legitimate, moral occupation that suited me was fine by him. My mother put all her eggs in one basket, and she couldn’t be happier; in any case, she would rather not get in God’s way when it came to my life. In a manner of speaking, she gets to have many grandchildren, and doesn’t have to change any of their diapers. With understandable bias, I consider my parents’ attitude toward my vocation as one that should be normative for parents, whatever vocation their children choose.

A good parent is a good shepherd who takes cues from Jesus and the Church—from the wisdom of His teachings, from the fidelity of her saints. Good parents strive to place their gifts and faults, their strengths and limitations, at the service of the Lord and their children. They are interested in what their children want and need: whatever pertains to their health, their safety, and their salvation. We pray that our children will stay close to their families and to the Church, to learn the Lord’s loving intentions for their lives, so that they may freely and joyfully cooperate in those intentions each day.

The Stuff of Saints, Part the First

In an earlier post, patient reader (or should I call you Theophilus?), I mentioned that, on Monday the 28th, I would be speaking to young adults on the subject of "Becoming a Saint in the 21st Century." Only since Monday did I recognize that Friday is "All Saints Day." The topic of presentation was apropos of the upcoming Holy Day, so the timing is Godly!

(The Diocese of Allentown had something to do with it, I grant. The Diocese works for God...though, in a certain sense, God works for the Diocese!)

I broke the topic into two major segments: "Becoming a Saint" and "In the 21st Century," and I began with the latter. Everyone in the room was a resident of the 21st century for the same amount of time, which is more than I could say for some of the venues I work (e.g. our elementary school)!

The most important things I noted about being a resident in the 21st century were:

• Technology, as evidenced by the "smartphone." The sheer inescapability of it, the overwhelmingness, the thrill, the headaches of it! The instant access to information, true or false, helpful or baneful. The ability to connect with people through social media (or, perhaps, the ability to fabricate a profile by which one can "interact" with a similarly-fabricated profile).
• The importance of education, for purposes beyond the mere content, and the pressure to continue education beyond the high school and undergraduate levels.
• Openness to new ideas: "searching," viz. experimenting with and "sharing" philosophies, religions, relationships, in the hopes of furthering self-discovery.
• Mobility, local, social, occupational, et-ceteral.
• Fluidity that extends even to ideas, even to the point that what one person holds as true, another may not, without recrimination or scrutiny, which derives in part from
• Relativism, the idea that any idea (especially my idea) is as valid as others. Substitute "faith/religious practice" if you wish.

What to do, in this marketplace of ideas? Is there a manual? Is there any sort of standardization to us "seekers"? Catholicism and Orthodoxy persist in positing a human nature that is universal, with its faculties of intellect and will that God made to understand truth and pursue goodness. We aren't actualized unless we are intent on understanding truth and pursuing goodness.

There is a big emphasis today on uniqueness. Cherished Catholic figures have relevant quotations:

• "Be who you are and be that well." (St. Francis deSales)
• "Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire." (St. Catharine of Siena)
• “To lift up the hands in prayer gives God glory, but a man with a dungfork in his hand, a woman with a slop pail, give Him glory, too. God is so great that all things give Him glory if you mean that they should." (Gerard Manley Hopkins), whose entire poetic corpus is relevant. Special emphasis on "As Kingfishers Draw Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame," which I quoted in the talk. Hopkins reflected the post-Scholastic philosophical stress on the individuality, or "this-ness," of each created entity.

As for becoming a saint, I don't know if everyone gathered that evening had aspirations for sanctity. Sometimes I don't know if I do. The aggregate of saints, canonized and not, speaks to us about the desire for God that is written on the human heart. You may also call it the desire for self-transcendence--with which conscientious human persons of any or no religious persuasion will identify, though perhaps with a little bit of help.

It is crucial to admit the existence and relevance of anything outside of the self. The failure to do so may well epitomize the human condition. Recovering addicts speak of a God in terms of a "higher power," but is there an "other" power? Note that the Hebrew word for holy, qadosh, at its heart means "other." When the angels were declaring the thrice-holiness of God (cf. Is 6:3), they cried out, "Qadosh, Qadosh, Qadosh!" "Other, Other, Other!" To be holy, then, is to be set apart...unique!

Since this talk was intended for Catholic Christians of this or any century, we needed to cite certain transcendent characteristics of holiness:

Obedience to the Commandments. Stipulated by the Lord as a proof of one's love for Him (cf. Jn 14:15). Nobody likes to be told what to do and what to avoid, so maybe it would mollify us to hear the commandments described as "enshrinements of positive conduct that fosters a well-ordered society, a communion of persons like unto the Trinity."

Virtues: Stable dispositions to choose the good amid the various circumstances of life. Temperance, patience, kindness, humility, diligence, chastity, and charity: these are seven contraries to the “deadly sins."

Prayer: traditionally understood as “lifting heart and mind to God” (St. John Chrysostom). St. Teresa of Avila: “a friendly way of dealing, in which we find ourselves talking in private, with Him whom we know loves us." Dr. Ralph Martin recently defined prayer as “paying attention to God." Referring everyone and everything in our lives to God—in real time, when possible (and when isn’t it?). This, however, doesn’t preclude fixed, regular “sessions” of prayer, in which we engage the Lord through the Liturgy, the Scriptures, the Rosary, worthy reading, the events of the day, etc.

More later.

"21st Century Saints," First Draft

I will be speaking to young adults in our diocese later this month as part of a "Theology on Tap: Octoberfest" series. This is a new venture for me. For two years I was a high school chaplain and teacher. Perhaps the students, staff, fellow teachers, and administrators would have a better estimation of my efforts, but I considered the assignment successful insofar as I completed it without committing any crimes.

There are differences between high school students and "young adults" in their early 20s to mid-30s. While many high school students are forced to attend religious programs, young adults get to choose to do so. Young adults have had more time to define their personal talents and areas of interest, so they will tend to invest themselves more deeply in their chosen activities. When religious formation is worthy of a young person's time--now this is something special!

I say this in light of a recent Facebook status of a young woman who was a senior when I was the chaplain. She was feeling the dread deficit of activities in Berks County for a professional her age. As far as I know she still adheres to her Catholic faith, but finds nothing in common with her parish. There is a huge gap between high schoolers and parents of young children, and she is in it for a few more years! She didn't want married people or older people to post any comments, because we "don't get it." I didn't read that caveat before making a pitch for the Theology on Tap series; but I figured that she was looking for answers, so there was one that she could take or leave.

Because of the paucity of worthy faith-based gatherings, and out of respect for the relative few young adults who profess to be Catholic in this atmosphere, I accepted the kind invitation of the Diocese to speak at this event. If there's any way to support those twenty and thirty-somethings who make no secret of appreciating their faith, I'm game!

The assigned topic is, "Becoming a Saint in the 21st Century." I was not strong-armed into the topic, you must know. For all I remember, I may have told the regional youth ministry coordinator to "surprise me." Today I ran into the diocesan coordinator at a meeting, where I asked her, "Are you sure you want me to do this one?"

An inveterate over-thinker, I have concluded that I am neither a saint nor a resident of the 21st century. Well, as for the latter, I am typing on a laptop computer while this is playing in the background:

so perhaps I do qualify as a 21st century resident. But I also read the print version of the daily newspaper, read books, and I have watched most of the Monty Python corpus and both Fletch movies.

But "saint" is, for me, a dubious distinction, so far.

Perhaps that is part of the point: what is to say that people who want to know, love, and serve God can't maintain some familiarity with certain things of this world? Who says they can't address current topics with fresh, even "irreverent" language?

I'm not incredibly much older than my target audience, but I this is how (I fear) my approach will seem to them:

Who will free me from this blasted self-consciousness? Only God, and not without my cooperation. This concern, I grant, is a real waste of time and energy. I will be the best representative of Christ I can be to these people, yet thoroughly in my own skin.

Some ideas are percolating. Heavy on the Hopkins...heavy on the humor...

Beloved readership: Do you have any suggestions for this topic of "Becoming a Saint in the 21st Century"? Feel free to leave them below.