Sex and money and happiness...

Say it ain't so!

Another link to a story that turns the media driven stereotypes upside down.

The Democrats are actually the party of the rich. Conservatives are more generous with thier own money than liberals. Americans as a whole give more to the needy than Europeans. And the best sex is reported by...

Married, religious women, especially conservative Protestants...

More on happiness...

CNN takes on a story about happiness and among the happiest people are, you guessed it, the religious...

Oh, and the survey says more things have little effect on happiness. But Jesus could have told you that, oh say, 20 plus centuries ago.

Global youth happiness survey...

See the bottom of the first page of this interesting story about young people and happiness.

Who are the happiest? Read the story and find out!

Thoughts after the road...

Beautiful drive back from LaCrosse yesterday with plenty of sunshine, unseasonably warm weather, and little traffic now that the tourists have gone away for a while. The photo on the left is "Grandad Bluff" which is directly to the east of downtown LaCrosse, and the right is a view of downtown. The road back looks a lot like the bluffs you see on the left and only stops being that scenic at Red Wing, MN, on the edge of the Twin Cities Metro.

But that's not the story, the quiet is.

I normally have the radio on for the journey but this time decided not to use it at all but rather be alone with my thoughts as the miles passed. It worked out for the most part, at least for a while, and then the craving for the noise, the stimulation, set it. "Just push the button and find out what the Packer's score is..." "How about some music?" All these thoughts going through my head and I realized how much of a noise junkie I really was.

Silence can be frightening because there's no place to hide, nothing but you and your thoughts, and then what? I realized that much of what I consider "thought" may in fact be noise, outside stimuli that have been put into my head and which I think are my own thoughts. There are parts of me that may not be me at all but rather artificial constructs that have grown in place to the point where I assume they are, in fact, real.

Ouch, or rather yikes!

Stuff on the night before the road...

Tomorrow morning the road beckons again and there may be some snow. We've been blessed here these past weeks with very little snow and even a few peaks at sunshine. Next week it should get to be around 50 f which is very warm for this time of year. I remember Thanksgiving Days when we couldn't travel because of the snow.


The work continues at St. Elias as the Nativity Fast begins and end of year plans (that means stewardship drives) come in to play. It's actually good to be busy because it keeps my mind off from the encroaching darkness outside. The sun sets around 5 PM now and we're getting pretty close to the time when we drive to work and back in twilight.


The truth be told I'd kind of like 2006 to be over. It's not been the happiest year personally with death being the main culprit and a kind of fatigue the other. I could use a few days in LasVegas right now which is strange because casinos bore the life out of me. But the warm dry air is a tonic. I'll put up with the general nouveau riche sleaze of Vegas baby just to get a dose of a cool summer night when the winter sets in here.


The next week will be Liturgy central with three planned on Monday night for the Presentation, Wednesday for our local pan Orthodox Thanksgiving Divine Liturgy and Sunday. This may sound strange but sometimes the Liturgy is the only place I can get some rest! It's very peaceful to be tuned into the flow of those ancient rythms.


The fast, of course, is just starting and I'm actually looking forward to it. I'm grateful for the chance to get things back in order, take care of unfinished business, and prepare myself for Christmas. What a wonderful gift to have, these special times when the Church calls for a renewed closeness to God and greater diligence in faith. The neat thing is that when hearts, including mine, turn away from the world and towards God they're actually happier and although I know its going to be a struggle I already have a sense, like other fasts, that it will be worth it. On the practical side its nice to feel like I'm truly celebrating the season and with grace may be able to avoid the gluttony hangovers that seems to have become part of this time. But the fast is young and I am a sinner so we'll see.


BTW, I have a little black book now so I can remember prayer requests and if you would like to be in it you can just write at info@stelias-lacrosse.org . I'm no great saint, not even a little one for that matter, but I'll do what I can.

Interesting, very interesting...

A link to an upcoming book documenting philanthropy in the US.

The Thrill of the Chaste...

Here's a link to the www site of "The Thrill of the Chaste" a new book by a 30 something woman who converted both to Christian faith and a life of chastity and now speaks of her experiences as a refugee from the "Sex and the City" mentality.

As has been mentioned before in this blog there is always a certain amount of pain in speaking to the world about the health, life, and peace that comes from practicing a Christian sexual morality, a morality with both high standards and a place for self correction when sin fails the high calling. The pain comes from knowing there will be many people, not sleazes or whores, but people looking for meaning and love and touch and togetherness who will, in thier need, buy in to a values system that will hurt them and sometimes even take thier life. There are many of us who, by grace or just dumb luck, emerged on the other side in relative safety but many more who will still only come to see the value of the Christian sexual vision by virtue of traveling through some very dark valleys.

Read the book.

See the post below this one...

A new study suggests religiously observant older people are healthier then thier non observant counterparts.

As I remember, Elton John is about to turn 60...

More signs of the times...

Elton John, nearing 60, and presumably in an activitist mood has called for banning organized religion and then for a conclave of the leaders of these banned religions to get together to address the world's problems. In addition he has blamed the Pope and the Catholic Church for AIDS and the death of his friends (apparently the Pope is running around the world forcing people to have sex with each other).

Of course, the first thing many critics will do is dismember the obvious illogic of this and expose Sir Elton's intellectual shortcomings. After all he's just one of a long list of entertainment celebrities who've bought into their own publicity and confused fame with depth.

But two things should be noted. First, there are more people than we know who share his thoughts despite thier obvious shallowness. Second, for Sir Elton and others to be able to believe and speak these things reveals a kind of something, or lack of it, in thier hearts which provides a rationale for irrationality. He himself may not even know what strange fire is burning inside.

But it's precisely for that dark and hidden recess in our souls, even the one that spews angry words to heaven, that Christ came and while there is life there is always hope, for you, me, and the "rocket man".

Signs of the times...

Went across the street from where I work to a Target store and saw a young man curled up in one of those 70's vintage wicker basket chairs with a sleeping bag around him.

Homeless? No. Just waiting for Friday so he can be the first in line to get one of this store's allotment of 8 PlayStation 3's.

Don't know whether to laugh, or cry, or shake my head in disbelief. Maybe God wants him to be the first person I pray for in Nativity Lent.

Church marketing sucks...

The www site for Church Marketing Sucks, a group of passionate Christians looking for something better and a MUST READ for anyone in the Church.

The numbers game...

Invariably when a Priest is asked about his parish people say "And how many members does your parish have?"

Now people aren't looking for nuance in this, thoughts about faithfulness, the stage of life a parish is in, or the historical development of things. They want a number and the higher the better. Everything hangs on the number.

If the number is low it must be about the Priest not measuring up or the parish being dysfunctional or some other dark secret that keeps it from being higher. When Priests talk to Priests the issue is the same and even when we offer the nuances and they are listened to with the appropriate and well practiced techniques the one speaking and those listening know that only the number matters. The rest is small talk.

And there is a certain truth in numbers. Numerical growth is normal in the church and when it is not happening there really does need to be an analysis of the situation. Sometimes the answer is simple and there are conflicts or attitudes that have driven people away or closed the doors to people coming in. Language still is one of the largest and it remains an amazing fact that so many Orthodox parishes, even those that have been in this country for decades, still cling to languages and customs that they never use outside the walls of the Church. But there are more and sometimes its not about desire or struggles or ethnicity but about lack of support and direction for growth, the failure to plan that means the Parish has planned, sometimes without knowing it, to fail. Some parishes, too, need to die but no one has the desire to say that let alone act on it. Its never as simple, despite our wish, as the number.

Numerical success, too, has to be examined. Is it an accident of immigration where a large community of people was already present and the church simply filled? Has it been about the movement of converts from other Christian communities into the life of the Church? Is it a generational thing, a burst of fertility from years past that has now come to fruition? Success numbers are complex too and may not actually reflect a vital congregation but one that fate, rather than ministry, has favored with the numbers that shape our idea of success.

A few points here, for a digression regarding the growth of Orthodoxy.

First certain areas of Orthodoxy in the United States have experienced growth but the context has to be examined. Orthodoxy, when placed against its own context of ethnic isolation in this country is experiencing a growth and flowering, but when placed in the larger Christian context of this culture is still a minor player. We speak, for example, of the growth of 200 plus new parishes in the Antiochian Archdiocese in the past few decades which is admirable given the ethos of American Orthodoxy but miniscule in comparison to say, the Assemblies of God, who will probably put up 200 new parishes this year alone. Our will to evangelize and build is still in its infancy.

Second we have to understand that we still are not doing a substantial job of reaching the unchurched. So much of our "growth" is really a reshuffling of the deck as other Christians leave thier churches for ours. While that, from our point of view (and thiers) is a movement from something less to something more it hardly marks an actual growth in the Kingdom. We're just swapping folks around and frankly there are Orthodox who have left the Church for other Christian communities as well. There are few, to my knowledge, models where hard core unchurched are being brought in from the streets into the communicant life of the Church.

And although we have taken great strides, for us, in relearning and remphasizing evangelism and growth in our parishes and clergy we are still a long ways from recovering the Orthodox vision of proclaiming the Gospel in word and deed as an integral part of what it means to be a normal Parish and parishoner. Imagine where our churches would be if half the energy spent on festivals was spent on evangelism?

Where should this lead?

Perhaps the hope should be that one day numbers will matter as they truly should, within the actual history and life of the parish and as a tool to help us direct the life and ministry of our churches. Not numbers for the raw impact and idea that a lot means things are going well, but numbers that tell us where we are strong, where we are not so strong, and where God still wants us to change and become what He desires us to be.

In the end, after all, its the "why" of the numbers, that middle place between worshipping them as indicators of success and ignoring them in the pretense of piety, that matters most of all.

More thoughts on hypocrisy...

An interesting article from First Things regarding hypocrisy.

Oh Lord, kumbaya...

A little history on the song of a million Bible camp fires.

Some wisdom from St. John...

For whatever is born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world - our faith. Who is he who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?

1 John 5:4-5

Some thoughts...

The sun is shining this morning but they say that rain and snow are on the way. So I'll take advantage of the moments to write a bit about the days past and those to come.

On the longest scale of things I remain, like Christianity, optimistic. The shining city of God with the beauty and purity of a bride remains within my sight and the political junkie riding the emotional roller coaster with every newscast has long ago slipped away into the night. I slept well on November 7th and last night as well.

I'm not naive or locked in some pious delusion. I read the papers and know it's a troubled world. I'm tempted sometimes, like everyone else, to seek refuge, to hide away, to go to some far away place where the world can't get at me but I know it's no use. I feel bombarded sometimes and sometimes I even envy those who are already asleep in the Lord. But that never makes what is here and now less then what it is and somehow I and we have been providentially ordered to be in this time and place.

I know, too, that the world has always been troubled. It is our lot since the first broken day of exile from Eden and only the technology, and not the human propensities, have changed. The Romans would have used tanks if they had them and the Babylonians would've have had porno movies in hotels if they could. The biggest difference, I suppose, is that in our modern media age we are force fed a bigger portion of it all and find less and less of what is good and right and pure in the cultural hog wallow.

As the larger and superficial supports in this society that have propped our vision of the world up in at least some lip service sort of way are weakening and collapsing I wonder if God is asking us a simple but profound question in all of this. "Do you believe in me?"

Sometimes all the passing things in which we have placed our hope need to be taken away, or at least threatened, before we see what matters most. And in thier departure we see ourselves as we really are and whether what we claim to believe really matters or was all just fluff.

The ascetics knew this, those holy people of long ago who left the world to pursue God. And perhaps this time, this epoch of history, is a time of asceticism for the Church, a time when God is making for us the choice the desert fathers and mothers made for themselves, and bringing us into the wilderness so we, stripped of everything else, have only God and in realizing that come to understand that we have everything we need, aways did.

Just a thought from a sinner pondering things to vast for him to understand.

Thoughts on the day gone by...

For the past day, and for many more to come we will hear pundits and pollsters, spin doctors and bureaucrats, politicians and columnists, experts and insiders, winners and losers, and a million more voices on every little piece of everything.

They don't matter.

What is God saying in all of this?

That's what matters.

A little wisdom from Dennis Prager...

Thoughts on hypocrisy...

In a few hours...

In a few hours we here in the United States will know who we're referring to when we pray for the "President of the Unted States, all civil authorities, and our Armed Forces everywhere..."

And pray we will even as St. Paul admonished his fellow believers to do for people as dark, pagan, and corrupt, as the Roman aristocracy. We do this because we only see moments but God sees the whole span of history and so we believe.

Only those who have forgotten that our national motto is "In God We Trust" will succumb to fear today.

Legends of the fall...

I'm suspicious of the timing, of course, but the news of the possible involvement of Rev. Ted Haggard, pastor of a large evangelical church in Colorado and a leader in the National Association of Evangelicals, with a male prostitute has been front and center in the news.

The media love this stuff and a lot of readers/listeners/watchers do as well. If a prominent person seeking to speak out on moral issues falls (and there is no final word yet on whether or to what extent this may have happened) it allows people to justify themselves and avoid answering the questions posed by those speaking out about the moral decay of our culture. If every accusation provided to date is 100% true how would that affect the truth of the problems associated with the "do everyone you want" sexual mores of this society? Would it make the disease and death go away? Would the broken homes vanish? Would it mean that somehow the attitgude and actions which are making this all a reality are now okay? Or would it mean that one more person, one more family, and a whole congregation are added to the long and growing list of those broken by the sexual sickness of our times and, in effect, prove the point at a terrible cost?

Of course those of us who are serving in ministry are painfully aware of the nature of these times. We bathe in the same cultural waters as everyone else and wearing a collar is hardly a protection from the darkness. We are humans and we make mistakes, sometimes terrible ones. Our hearts are broken when we see one of us fall and we pray to God that it won't happen to us and sometimes just hang on by our fingernails in the face of it all. We know that the standards in these things are at a different level for us and a plumber or business man accused of seeking out gay sex wouldn't even merit a single line of newspaper copy while the mere innuendo of clergy scandal ends up above the fold on the front page. We know there are people who delight in exposing us and relish the idea of tripping us up. And its all complicated by the reality that deep inside, behind the faces we present on Sunday morning, are the common struggles of all Christians against the darts of the Evil One and the power of our own brokenness.

My prayers go out to Pastor Haggard, his family, and his parish, and doubly so if these accusations are in fact not a political stunt and have some merit. I hope yours do too because there will be suffering either way and perhaps a long road home if they are true. How we treat this man, this pastor, in the coming months will reveal the reality of who we are and the Gospel we proclaim. How we treat his accuser will as well.

Next Sunday's Sermon in Advance...

In a few days millions of Americans will travel to their local polling place and vote for those they wish to lead them in these times. Orthodox Christians, too, will join their friends and neighbors, as they should, and make decisions with an impact that can reach forward for generations.

But for too long there seems to have been a silence from those who are trusted to teach the faith as to how to approach our role as citizens and live as Orthodox Christians in the civil environment. In this silence we have abdicated the development of attitudes about politics and the political aspects of culture to the whims of popular culture and their septic mouthpieces in the media, and not by our faith. The result has been a decided lack of understanding about how our Orthodox faith, a faith which claims to touch all of who we are, speaks to the political life.

And perhaps there is where we should start, the idea that Orthodoxy is not simply an addition to life or an accessory but a unified vision, a participation in a reality that touches all of who we are and reaches out to transform the culture as well. We have too often created neat little compartments in our lives, with names like politics, business, religion, and family, and put a wall between them as if they are unconnected from each other. But to be Orthodox is to have all those neat little compartments demolished in favor of a life where all is directed towards Christ and the reality of who he is transforms those parts into a new kind of wholeness. To refuse to talk about faith and politics is to say there are areas in our lives that are off limits to the power of the Gospel, that what we seek to know, proclaim, and live is only for certain small parts of us and not the whole, and that is a small and powerless Gospel.

As Orthodox Christians we live in the hope of a day, we seek the transformation of our selves and the world in the knowledge that all things will be changed. We believe that one day the humble Jesus who came to us as a child in Bethlehem will return as King of Kings and rule the world with perfect justice, peace, and harmony. We believe that one day the government, as the prophet Isaiah said will be “on his shoulders” and our Creed affirms that Jesus will be the one to “judge the living and the dead” the ruler of a Kingdom that will never end, one that even now exists wherever hearts are turned towards him and people worship in spirit and truth. We understand that this rule will be one in which even the natural order itself will be returned to its pristine state and the lion will lay down with the lamb and people will turn their hearts to God and each other and reshape weapons into peaceful implements of agriculture.

Until then we understand that civil government has been given by God to ensure, as best as is possible with fallen humans, the good of all, the restraint of evil, the stewardship of the earth, and as our Founding Fathers would say “the general welfare”. We are called, as Orthodox Christians, to render honor to the state and its officials and live by the laws of whatever land we find ourselves to the extent they do not conflict with the higher moral law of God. We are called, as well, to participate on those same terms in the greater civil life of our country as we can.

In that light we also understand that there is no one form of civil government that can lay exclusive claim to encompassing the fullness of the Kingdom of God. There are better or worse forms, and even evil ones, but they all are shadows and are good only to the extent they reflect the perfect Kingdom of God. We also understand that nations are not permanent entities, but human constructs necessary for civil order but not an end in themselves. Our passports as Orthodox Christians, come from many countries, but our final hope is still in that heavenly country, the new Jerusalem.

So knowing this how do we live and act as Orthodox Christians within the political processes of our times? Here are some practical thoughts.

First and foremost the greatest political act of all is to know and live our faith in the world. Too many Orthodox simply do not know the essentials of their faith or practice them on a continual basis. We are people who have often drunk too deeply at the wells of our culture and occasionally sipped the living waters of Christ and we cannot know what is good and right if we have not sought it out ourselves and the world will not see it if they have no examples to observe. Imagine how different the world would be if just the Orthodox actually practiced Orthodoxy!

We also need to understand that what matters is not so much power or the attaching of ourselves to a single person or party but a commitment to unchanging truths and values.
Political structures change, truth does not, and our involvement in the political process should first and foremost reflect our witness to truth. If we believe that the Christian vision is the first and best destiny for humanity it is to that vision we must be true and understand that political structures are means and not ends. We are to be salt and light seeking the best we can in a world of imperfect structures and people.

Our Orthodox faith also gives us the hope of the Kingdom that is with us and that which is to come and so we have, despite the often chaotic nature of the world, an unchanging hope that should color all we do as Christians in the political world. If one only has this day, this election, or the current politics to provide meaning for their lives a descent into bitterness, anger, and violence will almost always result in the hopeless void that occurs when an election is lost or a process fails. But we have an eternal hope and our welfare can be affected by, but is not forever dependent on, the changing political world. We always keep eternity in mind and if we truly believe that one day Christ will rule with perfection then the anxieties of any given time lose their ability to terrorize us.

Yet we should also be cautious about as people used to say “Being so heavenly minded as to be no earthly good…” It is no act of piety to see the pain and struggles of the world and do nothing, or as some who claim Christianity do even rejoice in the sufferings as some sign of Christ’s return. We must be involved in the world as a sacred duty to serve and heal and witness and call the world to something better. If we do not our Lord will ask us, some day, why we failed to be who we were meant to be and claiming a pious detachment won’t count as an answer to the one who has said “as you have done this to the least of these my brethren you have done it to me…”

So what do we value as Orthodox Christians called to be witnesses in the political arena?

We understand that government should reflect, as best as is possible, the desire of God for the human good, the restraint of evil, the welfare of all, the care of the earth, and the pursuit of justice. In that light we are called to involve ourselves to transform all government forms and structures to those ideals.

We value all of human life from natural conception to natural death and even beyond and have always seen abortion, war, degradation, murder, and the desire of the strong to be predators on the weak as grave moral errors. People are never to be means to an end, are never disposable, and always have a dignity by virtue of being God’s creation.

We see the Earth not as a thing to be exploited but as a gift to be managed. We are all tenants and responsible to preserve and maintain what God has given us to the greatest extent possible.

We desire justice, to see evil restrained, the good promoted, and the power of law used for the greater good and without partiality. We see wealth as a divine call to charity and great power as a call to responsibility.

Our hope is always, first and foremost, for peace and we are called to engage in the destructive use of force always and only as the final option and then and only then with good reason and with mercy always in mind.

We believe morality ensures the well-being of society and that there is a natural order of family that allows for health, stability, and the well being of children. Orthodoxy, despite its accommodation of some divorce as a necessity in a fallen world, affirms only the union of one man and one woman for one lifetime or chastity in singleness as that arrangement desired by God, beneficial to the order of society, and promoting physical health. Orthodoxy would stand against any attempt to experiment with or transform this arrangement as inconsistent with the divine and natural law and the greater good.

Finally we believe that our first and foremost allegiance is to Jesus Christ and that all of our involvement in every part of our culture must be for the purpose of His glory, the salvation of our souls, and the transformation of the world. Power is for service, the ability to rule for the benefit of all, and our involvement in the world as the desire to enter the imperfect and call it to greater things.

That being said I simply ask you to pray always for our leaders, as we do in every liturgy, regardless of their party or whether they reflect your values. I encourage you to be involved as you can in the processes of our civil society with an informed Orthodox Christian mind and the heart of Christ. I ask you to stand, even as imperfect people, for those things that are always good, right, holy and perfect, not in the expectation of never ending success but because it is the good, right, holy, and perfect thing to do.

And in all things may God be glorified.

Some welcome news...

British scientists have created functioning liver cells from stem cells taken from umbilical cord blood. Once again the cures are to be found in science that respects life at all stages.

And therein lies a point. The promise of "embryonic" stem cells has been touted over and over again even though to date I am not aware of a single illness that has been helped, let alone cured, by thier use and there are already documented deadly side affects like cancers. Meanwhile people are being helped on a daily basis by the use of adult stem cells (bone marrow transplants) with other treatments already under way and further research showing real hope.

If this was actually about science the money, the research, and the flow of inquiry would have long ago left the moribund world of embryonic stem cell research to focus on that which has already proved itself, namely umbilical and adult stem cells. But it's not about that at all. There are political elites who fear the humanity of the embryo and fetus because it challenges their world view on so many levels. Many elites in science believe only in science, it is thier religion, and they wish to practice it without moral constraints put on them by people they feel are thier inferiors, especially those who continue to embrace traditional and orthodox faiths.

How ironic that actual science is arguing for morality and against scientists! But why should that be suprising to those who seek the Creator?

A little thought...

Satan always uses just enough worm to cover the hook...

Something to look into...

A few days ago an Orthodox Christian at another parish was speaking about the murder of an Iraqi Christian Priest at the hands of Islamic radicals and wondered why this story hadn't made the major news outlets.

There are a number of reasons, some of which may be as basic as a fear among reporters over antagonizing people who really will cause mayhem and death if they feel insulted, for this lack of coverage but there are sources that do cover the news of the jihad (holy war) that is currently underway in many locations around the world and victimizing people of many religions, including Islam.

Perhaps the best is JihadWatch.org, whose director, Robert Spencer is a scholarly and courageous man committed to providing news, information, and insight on this very real but very under-covered and under-explored aspect of our times. Some caveats, though, are in order.

First while Mr. Spencer himself is very much committed to being scholarly and fair some of those who post comments can be thoughtless. Whatever jihad may mean for the rest of the world "*&%$ the Muslims.." and comments like it are never helpful and frankly give ammunition to those hate.

Second, because the sight focuses exclusively on jihad, the issues behind it, news of it, and examination of its sources one can get overwhelmed and microfocused on this aspect of Islam, which is real, but not the whole of Islam or the whole of Islamic reality. Mr. Spencer, I believe would be the first to admit that but again readers need to take that in to consideration.

Finally be prepared to have some very bright lights shown on the Islamic world and the role of Islam in the history of the world and how this affects the present. For many centuries the Islamic world, and indeed Islam itself, has lived in the West in a shadowy world of scholars and historians and the "laity" as it were have had little knowledge or insight into it all. A visit to JihadWatch.org will change all of that. You may be suprised at what you learn, angry at what has been covered up, and thankful for what you have, sometimes all at the same time.

Above all visit the site and others with the idea of learning, becoming aware, and using what you have come to know to make the world a better place. Knowledge is power.

Some wisdom from David Warren...

On the recovery of joy...

A blessed moment...

It's true that as a general rule people shouldn't base thier faith on mystic or emotional experiences. The potential for instability and deception is high and the desire for the experience itself can become a kind of addiction. There are millions of Christians who wander from parish to parish, from one "move of the spirit" to another, like spiritual frat boys seeking the perpetual buzz. When the thrill is gone little is left.

Yet submitted for your inspection is this past Sunday morning.

I woke from a pleasant sleep with a profound sense of the presence of God, a very sweet and restful thing, that brought me to tears. Heaven and earth seemed to be very close and there was a bouyancy in things that followed me all the way through Divine Liturgy and continues today. It's different then just feeling good (which has much to recommend it) because it feels holy as well.

Now I can only guess as to why this happened. But I'll try not to take it for granted. Spiritual and emotional dryness is an occupational hazard in ministry and moments like this are often hard to come by. And perhaps there is no purpose in this at all, just God blessing for its own sake and quite frankly over-analyzing it all would only ruin it. After all the best post mortems require something to die and I want to hang on to this for a while.

But one thing is certain. Even though the substance of faith doesn't lie in the journey from one ecstasy to another my prayer is that others who seek to follow Christ would have, at least once, a precious morning like this last Sunday when it felt like this world and the next had only a step between them and all of life was near to its Source.

Because its true when Jesus said "Come unto me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest..."

What can't be taught...

Saturday morning I'll be on the road again. Two days to take care of things and then back home.

I wish it wasn't this way, but the budget numbers don't lie. We've given somewhere just above half of what we need to survive as a parish and by the end of the year the trend should be confirmed. If I had come to live in LaCrosse would there have been enough to keep food on the table or would I be calling the Bishop even now asking for someplace, anyplace, so that my wife and I don't have to eat ramen noodles?

The people of St. Elias are good people, in fact very good people, who have had to endure thier parish being started, abandoned, restarted, and held together by the mighty efforts of a few. Those who desire convenience or need to be carried by others have long since faded away. Being a small parish, like being a family, is sometimes hard work and not for the timid.

So what we have on Sunday morning are the survivors and a few who, swimming against the tide, have made it to our shores. Again, good people all but probably very tired. Only a kind of love keeps them from going down the street to the more glamorous churches with beautiful facilities, hip music, and a ton of programs. My guess is that some of them are also just hanging on.

But I am waiting.

Because everything in the life of the church can be taught except for one thing. There is an intangible move of the Holy Spirit that cannot be finessed, coerced, or manipulated, a move that can only be caught and is essential if tiny churches are ever going to break out to become self-sustaining and then vibrant. If God does not stir hearts then all the programs and appeals and sermons in the world will mean nothing.

If just for one moment the Holy Spirit can find a crack in the accumulated debris of self-doubt, sadness, loss, futility, and struggle that cover the souls of these people and touch the tender part of them that still desires to hope and believe and want something better the world can change. If but for one moment they can have the eyes of faith and see themselves as God sees them and want to be what God wants them to be a fire will start and hell itself will not be able to put it out.

Oh God please...

And until then I will wait.

A little stem cell wisdom from Michael J Embryo...

An interesting response to the controversial Michael J. Fox political ads...

A little wisdom from Cal Thomas...

On the new "minority" status of married couples.

I was in the Assembly of God once...

A Pew Forum survey of the growth of the Pentecostal / Charismatic movements discovered while reading GetReligion.org .

Bottom line? Pentecostal / Charismatic Christianity will remain a challenge for Orthodoxy to the extent we do not recover the biblical and personal nature of our Faith.

I presume there is a plan...

October 27th may be a very hard day.

It would have been my brother Paul's birthday, his 45th, but its been changed into just another painful milestone as we ponder his death and our loss.

I was in my car driving home when I heard that he had died. I had planned to go home, get the keys to St. George Church, and spend some time there in prayer for him (I only knew at the time that there had been an incident and the paramedics were with him). But time had run out. When I called from my car to check on things and all my mother could say was "Paul is with the Lord, and I need to be with his wife..." Then everything faded to black.

Since that time I have been mostly numb, focused on doing the right thing and helping where I could. There are moments, of course, but the whole thing still seems like an illusion. This Friday will remind us all, again, that it isn't so and nothing will be the same again.

And I will light a candle somewhere for him and for me. For Paul it's a sign of the light of Christ which never fades and a kind of existence we can only imagine, a freedom and rest from the struggle that marks this broken world. For me it is a light of hope, that somehow, somewhere this all makes some kind of sense.

I presume there is a plan to this all, that somehow in the eternal scheme of things this must happen and that its effects, so terrible and painful for us, are even now working out some greater but invisible good. But as to the specifics I remain totally and utterly without a clue and probably will for the rest of my life. There's not much I can do about that as I am me and God is God and there are things I will only know when I myself follow my brother.

Until then a candle will have to do.

Welcome news from the Islamic world...

An open letter from senior and prominent Islamic leaders across the world in response to Pope Benedict proclaiming, among other things, the incompatability of terrorism with Islam.

Worth the reading.

Not showing up is not an option...

There is a part of me that hates politics and what has become of the political system in the United States. But I also know that its not holy, or right, or good, to pretend to be above it all and not try to transform even a broken system with whatever goodness is at our command.

There is no political party that encapsulates the Christian vision of a just society, sadly often the Church itself fails to do that. Every politician will be a mixture of things good and bad as we all are and history fluctuates which means nothing human is forever written in stone. We will always be faced with imperfect choices but to not seek to be salt and light because of it is sin.

All across the political spectrum there are people who have good ideas, good positions, and even if they don't have everything we may want they will have some and perhaps more than thier opposition. We must, as people with Christian values, seek these people out and support them wherever we find them. Even if we are distressed at the shape of things we must still make every moral effort we can to make things better. Being sullen, angry, and uninvolved is not an option.

So vote, not as a beholden to one party or person, but as a thoughtful Christian soul seeking to bring out the best in this country even if the best is only a little nudge in the right direction. To despair and withdraw only ensures the triumph of lesser things.

We are not our sins...

Part of the attraction of Orthodoxy, and why I remain Orthodox, lies in the very real and practical wisdom that flows through this faith like gold threads in a larger and beautiful tapestry. To the unaware all there is ritual and esoteric quotes and a strange attraction to beauty for its own sake that seems so out of sync in a culture which values function above all. But within is wisdom for the very real world of hard choices and human struggle.

These past days have focused my mind on that interweaving of faith, scripture, canon, council, liturgy and thought that is the Tradition and the anthropology of it all as it addresses the way we see ourselves, how we proclaim our identities to the world.

The spokesman for ex-congressman Foley stated what many feel when he identified his client as a gay man and an alcoholic. I'm sure some of it was to garner sympathy for a person disgraced by sending sexual messages to teenage boys, but within this lies a mania of our culture, the identifying of ourselves by our struggles, labeling ourselves by our sins.

To this the Orthodox Tradition points us in a radically different direction because it calls us to see ourselves as we were meant to be by God, not a wildly fluctuating mass of pathologies and misdirected passions but children of God designed for communion, even union, with our Creator. While we certainly acknowledge we sin, and sometimes often and with intent, we are never allowed in Orthodoxy to let those dark parts of us define us and doing that is in itself a kind of darkness. We identify our sins not because they define who we are but because we know what we should be and see our sins as things we must face and overcome to be what we truly are.

Orthodoxy is puzzled when someone would say "I am a gay man" as if that is the center or the focus of identity. There is no such thing as a fornicator among us, or a liar, or a violent man but rather a collection of people struggling to be as we are supposed to be who in our struggles have to face and put to flight enemies within us seeking to destroy the image of God even as we seek its restoration within us and the whole world. Our sins are that which is inauthentic within us, that which is contrary to God's design, that which diverts us and keeps us from fulfilling the destiny implanted in us when God breathed a unique kind of life into us at the dawn of time.

Our sins are never who we are or were meant to be unless we make that choice and its only when we finally and completely give in that we are lost. Until then there is hope.

Some wisdom from "Again" Magazine...

On the nature of ministry...

Moral people and politics...

The elections are in earnest here in the United States and it looks, for now, that the Republicans may be swept from power in one or both houses of Congress.

When the tally is done the winners will claim a mandate, the losers will lick thier wounds and vow to fight on but the truth is that little will change. "But can't you see the scandals of the Republicans...?" some will say and I will answer, "Of course I can and I'll even vouch for the fact that a party that swept in to power promising to change the status quo has done nothing of the sort and frankly has become the very kind of people they complained about when they were the minority"

And amid all the talk of a "new era for the American people" and the "restoration of the integrity of government" that will flow from Democrats provided they win in November one thing is certain. When they held power they had episodes of corruption and mismanagement that were every bit as bad as anything they pointed out in the Republicans. And after a brief honeymoon where wonderful statements will be made they, too, will return to business as usual except, of course, it will be thier constituencies gaining from the ear marks and back room dealings.

The truth in these things is simple. There will not be a better politics until there are better people.

Toadyism, in dealings, corruption, greed, lust, pride, all are part of human government regardless of its shape and probably always will be. Place people in those positions without a sense of transcendent morals, without a structure for knowing truth and practicing decency and the result will always be the same. A mere change of faces in the halls of power will make not a single difference.

Sadly the one institution with the power to transform people has failed the mark. Either we in the Church have retreated into the pretense of a holy isolation, caved in to our culture's various pathologies and baptized them, or chosen to play the political game and lose ourselves in the process. Our preachers have gone wobbly in the knees, our teachers love the approval of the tweed jacketed more than God, and our leaders desire to rub shoulders with the powerful more than walking with the Crucified.

The good thing in all of this is one day it will get so bad the Church, or what's left of it, will emerge from its addictive daze and begin, again, to be what she was meant to be in the world, real salt, real light, savory and pungent, a yeast whose life transforms what it touches and a mustard seed that grows into a tree of shelter.

If you go to church regularly and don't recognize those images you'll understand why things are the way they are.

Shadows fall...

For most of my life, as I can remember, dysthymia has been my companion, a shadow falling.

Many who know me would be surprised to hear that, those who know me well are not. Over the years I have become skilled in living with shadows, a skill developed in years of experience matching depression move for move, thrust, parry, retreat, and attack. I can smile when I need to, engage when I must, and you'd never know. Only those who see me in an unguarded time are aware of it. Until now.

There are many different kinds of depression and many causes and thankfully most will never have more than an occasional bout of the blues once in a while. Dysthymia is a chronic low grade depression that presents itself in my life in somewhat predictable fashion (usually at the end of summer, around Nativity, and sometimes in early spring) and sometimes just appears. Years of practice have allowed me to know when I am sliding in to what I call a "trough" and the feelings of loss, frustration, and hopelessness of one kind or another begin to emerge. It's hard to sleep but the hardest thing is the feeling of being abandoned by God, the cruelest trick of all because it strikes at my very heart.

This is such a time.

But I'm not asking for pity. I have no idea why, outside of the medical facts, this is happening to me but I've long ago stopped asking the questions as anything other than a symptom. I rarely ever speak of it because I don't want people to see me as my condition, don't want to have to constantly explain things, don't need to have people define me as that "depressed" guy. I refuse to allow this thing, this illness, this struggle, to become me.

And that's why I'm breaking the silence.

I was cautioned by the well meaning to avoid talking about this. What would people think of a Priest who is damaged, somehow less than perfect? How would they handle my secret? What would they do when they discovered there are moments when I am weak? How would they cope with knowing there's a soft spot under my black shirted armor?

But something else matters more.

In the Church right now are many more like me, people who have lived with this quiet pain, these shadows falling, for decades. They have endured. They have cried alone in bed late at night. They have encountered countless well wishers who don't understand. They have moments of profound aloneness, days when they feel God has abandoned them and salvation is lost. They've been shamed into silence by the nature of thier struggle and wonder what it must be like to be a normal person.

In this moment when I feel the night settling in and know the fight is on all I wish to say is "Do not be afraid..." Your mind will tell you that God has left but it is not so. The dark will seem like forever but the weeping of the night does pass. A part of you will wish for death but you must not succumb. Fight for this day, for this minute if you have to. A little while is all you need, one moment to get some help, to take those damned pills, to run for whatever light you see even if the devil himself is trying to pull you down. Go to Liturgy even if every part of you wants to stay at home in bed. Let His precious Body and Blood work it's silent graces. Weep if you must, but never surrender to the fictions in your mind. When morning comes, and morning is more precious to us, rejoice and let God's sun warm your face and dry your tears.

And know that you are not alone.

A Visual Journey through the Orthodox Church...

Just the gears I need...

This past Saturday was the usual trip to LaCrosse and St. Elias, with a twist.

Coming in to LaCrosse and traveling over the Mississippi river I attempted to downshift and discovered that 4th gear was missing, gone, not there, vanished. Turns out 2nd and reverse were also missing which made for quite a scene when I later backed my car out of a hotel parking lot using my foot for a motor (sort of like Fred Flinstone).

Now my car, which usually has been remarkably reliable, had some transmission problems which the dealer fixed and were, thank God, covered by the warranty. But this was new and visions of my being stuck somewhere out in the country with an immovable hunk of metal under me caused a certain amount of concern.

What to do?

There was no way to drive it back to the dealer before closing and it was too much of a trip to have someone pick me up. So the die was cast and all interested parties back home were informed of the situation and preapred to pick me up when I returned on Sunday. As to the car, who knows?

Sprinkled with holy water and blessed by the prayers of the faithful of St. Elias the adventure home began after Liturgy. First challenge, climbing the bluffs to the prairies above, then getting to Rochester, and then making it to the dealer where my wife would be waiting so I could leave the car and get home.

Needless to say it was a prayerful trip with XM radio football scores to fill in the gaps. It turned out to be a minor part that could be fixed in less than an hour.

A day of two later it occurred to me, broken as the car was I had been given all the gears I needed to make it safely home.

I'm still working out the lesson for me in all of that.

The light shines...

In the furnace of these times lesser things are being burned away and a pure focus is emerging.

It's not about a desire for, or a glee at, the shape of things. I look at the world and feel mostly sadness and a certain sense of having the normalcy of the world taken from me by the winds of culture. Rather something is happening, a change is coming, and glimpses of it are already present.

The times are rousing me from my sleepy state, that sense of just flowing with things in the space between awake and dreams. I am more alert, more aware, more alive, then I have been in a long time. To use a biblical image the scales are falling off my eyes and vision is beginning to return.

I'm seeing the world more clearly in this time when all seems to be shadows, but more importantly I am starting to see Jesus with greater clarity as well. He stands out more as the darkness seems to grow and glows with a fiery intensity as night falls. It something I missed when my delusions led me to believe that all was well or at least tolerable.

Now I'm certainly no saint. My life is cancerous with sin in ways I don't even know. But I'm beginning, just beginning to see, and what it is I'm coming to know is deep and real and beautiful and right. If I can have just a taste of it I will leave this world a happy man and there is a radiance in it all that cuts through this gray rainy day with the light of a million suns.

As a child I remember the bible camp that filled our summers and the chapel on the grounds with the words on the wall that said "We would see Jesus..." Can it be that after all those decades I finally am? And what I'm starting to see, even in fragments, is so amazing that I can only begin to wonder at it all and barely stand in the face of it.

The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has never overpowered it...

Some wisdom from George Washington...

And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure – reason and experience both forbid us to expect that National morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle.

– George Washington, Farewell Address, Sept. 19, 1796

On the one month anniversary...

On the one month anniversary of my brother Paul's falling asleep in the Lord a copy of the eulogy...

I find myself, with all of us gathered here, in a sad, strange, disconcerting, yet holy and profound place.
I am speaking at my brother’s funeral with the task of trying to capture in small and inadequate words the whole of a life. Thoughts have become elusive in mourning and there are pictures and images and flashes of him circling just outside my grasp. Words fail. How to speak? What to say? What could do justice to this moment? To him?

Yet for the sake of love I will read on.

Paul came in to life too early and left the same way but how remarkably different and better we are because of it all. While for most of us it is the nature of things to live out our lives in a kind of anonymity his was pregnant with good things. Family, friends, faith, love, laughter, some crazy times, and a natural kind of attractiveness that drew people to him and made him the captain of the team on and off the court.

Those of you who only knew Paul as an adult, as an athlete, a project manager, your friend at the campfire, or the tall guy in front of you at church may find it strange to believe he was a preemie when he arrived in the fall of 1961. He was our tiny little brother and we called him "Pauly Mouse" because of his size and quiet demeanor. Our Pauly was a well liked kid, and even as his grade school classmates chose him for a School Safety Patrol trip to Washington DC he was not the first one you’d pick when choosing up sides for neighborhood football games. But something happened about the time we moved to Minnesota in 1975 and while the boyish good looks stayed on he stopped being the size of a kicker and started being the size of a tight end. Our Pauly Mouse became Pauly Moose.

Yet whatever size package he was, he remained a favorite. There was a natural charm and grace that allowed him to easily make friends and keep them as the years moved on. Neighbors from his earliest years as a child in Wausau have called this past week with fond memories and high school buddies who turned into golf partners and compatriots are gathered here. The loss that family, friends, co-workers, and brothers and sisters in Christ feel in this time is real because the attachment was as well.

As a child Paul won a plaque in Sunday School that quoted the scripture "Be ye kind one to another…" It was his favorite, not, as we found out because of the quality of the plaque itself but because he thought, even as a child, that being kind was a good idea. He was a kid in a popular crowd in high school, but it never changed him. He was strong but never a bully. He experienced success in the rough and tumble of corporate life but never succumbed to the predatorial desire to win and take all. What tales could we tell of kindness, of decency, of considerations given in his unsung way. How the child’s thought shaped the man. Some day we’ll sit by a fire, like he used to, and tell the stories and laugh, and cry, and realize that the recollections of these things bless us still.

Yes there were times of sadness and anger and loss and frustration and hurt. No one lives beyond the sad domains of life. But more and above there was an abiding presence of good will, of quiet steadiness, of good humor, of simple yet profound faith, and easy companionship that mark our experience of Paul. Paul was our calm center, our quiet champion, a natural born dad, and all around good guy. In a world of untruths we who knew him could easily and without contradiction say he was a decent man. A high compliment in these times.

Two things yet need to be said.

First on behalf of all the Chagnon family we wish to express our deep gratitude to Jeanine. From that little apartment in Minneapolis and everything that has been to this moment and beyond you gave our brother the greatest human gift of all, a life of love and happiness beyond measure. It is the nature of things that a man and woman should leave their families, the gift of each to the other, and be joined together by God and become something new and more. In the crucible of this time we have seen a depth, grace, and beauty in you in the face of crushing events and we are reminded again why he loved you so and how much we are in your debt for the love you returned.

In the same manner we see that love and faith you shared continue on in Lindsay, Alyssa, and Danny. A man as good as Paul deserves to have his life continue for generations and although you are very much your own personalities we are deeply comforted to know that some of him will live on, and live on well, in each of you. A part of the sadness of this time is the thought of those lost days yet to come, the events that mark the celebrations of life and from which it appears Paul will be absent. But you carry him literally inside you, in how you look, how you feel, how you believe, how you think, how you care, and in your very soul. The years will take you away from this moment and him from your sight but in truth he will never be far away from you. He will always be as close as a thought, as near as a prayer, and you will see his face in your children as we see his in you. And there will be comfort.

And finally we need to be reminded that these few, short, and inadequate words are by no means the end of the story. In the summer of 1967, in a cramped cabin where we spent parts of our summer as bible camp workers, an incredible transformation began when a young boy named Paul placed his life in the hands of his Savior. That moment has permeated everything from that time on, touched his life with joy at the faith and baptisms of his children, gave him grace to face the hard times, nourished the life within, and allowed him to live strong to the end. Even now it fills this room with an incredible sweetness and peace that defies the pain of this day.

It also means Paul’s story is not finished, and in fact will never be finished. Greater and more beautiful chapters are being written even as we speak and the tale of his life continues just out of our sight but as real, even more real, than anything we can imagine. This small chapter is closed and tucked away in our hearts but by eternity’s reckoning in just a short while we will come to know the rest.

So to all of you in your remaining days love God, live well, embrace faith, choose joy, take care of those you love, strive for Christ’s "well done" and cherish each fleeting moment. It all matters. And as you do the memories stirred in these moments, and all of Paul that has touched your life, will transcend time and space and perhaps, even for a moment, touch the very doors of heaven.

Rest now Pauly, and we’ll see you in the morning.

Recipe for a school shooter...

Take one person, marinade for years in a culture of entitlement, consumption, and violence.

Remove transcendent moral values.

Add emotional instability.

Let simmer until ready...

If the people will lead...

Occasionally on my travels I'll listen to the news, but not much anymore because it grows more and more like an excercise in futility with truth as the first casualty.

But the news seems to be teaching one thing. The generation leading us now is a generation of style over substance, emotion over intellect, and selfishness over the common good. They are locked in a permanent childhood and have yet to, and probably never will, transcend themselves. And we're stuck with them.

Until the time the generation that came of age in the 60's passes this Earth and sanity returns we cannot depend on them to morally or spiritually lead us and should not trust thier opinions on anything of substance, and a lot of other stuff as well. The best, perhaps, we can do is pray they will not do so much damage that the years of repair will seem overwhelming.

For now we have to begin to build a new order of life rooted in the very things the hippies turned senators reject, the idea of transcendent truth and unchanging goodness. It will be hard at first because the amoral but powerful have no problem with using force to achieve thier ends when people refuse to bow to thier gods. We'll have to be second class citizens for a while, absorb thier fury, and quietly build behind the scenes and wait.

The demographics are on our side. And so is truth. Already we see the absurdity of a philosophy (if it can be called that) rooted only in the satisfaction of urges. As time goes on the disastrous results we already see will become more acute and the emptiness of people's lives will bear stark witness to the failure of an idea.

When that time comes, and it appears to be soon, there will be something there, deeply defined and already in practice to breathe new life into the corpse of our culture. And it will be beyond mere politics or economics or any of the ways power is manipulated, even thought it will transform them all, because it will be a revolution of the spirit, a reconnection with the wisdom of faith over time, a change in the very heart of people and not just thier environment.

Already every painful headline shouts out the death of an old way of being and a call to something, to Someone who will make all things new.

Take a minute to turn off your TV and you'll understand.

An awkward time...

Occasionally I will get a person or two coming in to my office to talk about the recent loss of my brother. Invariably it's a very awkward conversation.

First there's the initial expression of condolences and a pause followed by whatever seems to be on the top of the comforter's head about death. They had an uncle who died just like my brother, they may say, or they want a detailed report on all of the events. I stare blankly ahead, thank them for thier thoughts and just wait for the spool to unwind.

They mean well but what can they really say? It's the tragic part of dying suddenly and young, the loss of the usual comforting words. They want to help, to make it all go away, but how? It's done, there is no going back and nothing of what brought us to this point can be changed.

Yet the awkward words, the tales of how death touched them, or the need to know all the small details has within its rough shell a seed of good will, of kinship in the face of the mystery of death, and a desire for connection. Even the most eloquent among us are left stammering at the reality of it all so why expect more from the regular folks?

So please don't be disappointed if I don't react to your words in any way you think I should, or in any way at all. Truthfully I've heard it all before so the words themselves are meaningless, the voice of Charlie Brown's teacher. But I will remember that you thought enough to drop in, and that is what matters most. It's so precious to me that I'll even try to pay attention to the story of how your cousin died so you'll know that beyond the words I'm trying to share something with you as well.

Knowledge from adversity...

Whenever you manage to get the carrot there will always be another, on a longer stick.

Count on it.

The new campus rebels...

An article from Terry Mattingly about a campus rebellion still mostly under the radar; young women, Christian and others, speaking out against the party til you puke then hook up realities of college life.

It's well worth the reading.

Some wisdom from David Warren...

Here

Sometimes I wonder...

Everyone has a thing or two that make them wonder.

Recently, and that means within the past few years, something has stuck in my thoughts like a missed fish bone. Something about the finite nature of humanity and the infinity of God.

The world has always been a kind of insanity and the present is certainly no less than the past. Its what you get when limited beings, and the longer I live the more limited people (myself included) seem, are in charge of anything. In the cosmic state of things we are, even the best of us, amoebas swimming about in a sea of emotion, sin, illogic, and animal instincts while charged with the task of caring for this blue dot in space and finding a way to share a common existence.

Frankly, we've screwed it up and the whole of human history is a chain of mistakes strung together with a moment or two of where the soulish beauty of our design shines through. All the poetry on the exalted state of man is a dream at best, a dream that tortures us with the reality of our actual state, and a deceit at worst.

And God knows it.

The Psalmist says of God "He knows our frame, he remembers that we are dust..." (Psalm 103). And it is there that I wonder about things.

I wonder why we humans, who are the scourge of this planet and so very mortal and limited, have been allowed to sink this far this fast. Our leaders and all who follow seem demented on a primal level. We are violent and brutish and given to things that even the animals, who are often our moral superiors, cannot comprehend. What kind of being decapitates another on television or builds a bomb capable of snuffing out all existence?

And I wonder why God doesn't stop all of this, an act requiring a twitch of his will. We need to be protected from ourselves, from the cesspool of our imaginations and the will to evil that pervades our lives. We tiny, finite, beings, so small and yet so filled with darkness are helpless in the face of ourselves. Why does God not choose to keep us from that in the same way a humane person seeks to ease the suffering of an incomprehending animal?

They say it is all about choice and freedom, the desire of God to be in loving relationship with beings capable of deciding for that union. But when is it enough? When will this power, this freedom, have done so much damage that God has to intervene in the same way a parent tries to keep thier addled child from continuously pulling the boiling water on the stove over thier head?

Sometimes I wonder.

There is a place...

There is a place, when your journeys take you into northern Minnesota, where it feels like you've really made the break with the ant hill world of cities and arrived safely on a shore beautiful and foreign because it is so unlike the world you inhabit for most of your days.

Its not a geographical marker, like a dot on the map, but rather a moment when you realize the quality of things have changed, that which is around you and that which is in your heart and soul. Perhaps its putting the suburban mess in your rear view mirror. Maybe its just passing through a small town in that sweet place between farm and lake. A bird in the sky may mark the spot, but so may the first real clump of flaming birches. You just know it when you feel it.

And when we arrive there are moments when time seems to stop and all we know is the sun and sky and the sound of the water and the wind blowing through the trees. A silence is there even if we are surrounded by people, a silence inside rooted in all things properly alligned. It is like a moment of Eden.

What pushes us to leave such a place, to abandon such a state for something we know deep inside is less? The whirling world where all is competition and the beginnings of ulcers. What drags us from the simplicity, the silence, the sounds of wind and water, the voices of children, and the calls of birds unanswered?

Perhaps the angel of that first Eden, the one with a flaming sword guarding its gates and keeping the guilty away from paradise, is also within us. So we feel compelled, by some force, to leave the beautiful, the sublime, the holy, and those moments when all things seem one for the world of cars and sirens and mindless scurrying, and things for the sake of things.

And we hardly ever ask why.

A little wisdom from Mark Shea...

Can be found here.

The strongest man inthe world...

It just may be possible that in a world where politicians and clerics seem engaged in a perverse contest to see who can bow the lowest before the latest self appointed Sultan the strongest man in the world could be the one in a white cassock and armed only with faith, conviction, and a keen intellect.

Love him, hate him, or somewhere in between, one thing is certain. Pope Benedict has more courage than any leader in the western world at the moment, more than spineless western politicians deluded with utopian political correctness, and certainly more than any of the screaming fanatics burning his effigy.

How I wish we had his like among the Orthodox!

On the shady side...

It was good to take the "shady side" on the way back from LaCrosse this past Sunday.

Let me explain.

There are three major ways back to St. Paul from LaCrosse. The first is the open road on the open prairie, interestate 90 and highway 52. It's fast but in the late afternoon the sun beats down mercilessly on the left side of your face and rolling down your window only makes a small difference. On the Wisconsin side there is highway 35 which snakes along the Mississippi river and is astoundingly scenic, a road with twists and turns and small towns clinging to the sides of the bluffs. Between them is highway 61. It, too follows the river on the Minnesota side but it doesn't have as many twists and turns. Best of all, on a hot fall day it offers the cool mottled sunshine of a mountain valley as it meanders under the bluffs on its way north.

Sometimes people think all the driving bothers me but, in truth, I enjoy the time in my car. There is a peace there, the sense that the world can only come in as far as I let it. I often turn my XM radio on to channel 14, "Bluegrass Junction", and spend a few hours drifting with the music through the valleys and small towns.
Once in a while I listen to baseball, the one game that just can't be rushed yet remains full of poetry and drama.

I suspect that refuge is in short supply these days. We've created a world where words and images are being constantly dropped on us, a never ending blitz of pandering chasing exhibition that at its best leaves us exhausted. We've become caught somewhere between our inability to live without it all and our deep yearning for a moment of peace and quiet. Even when we go on vacation we bring a laptop along.

It would be interesting to see what would happen if everyone in the world would simply take a day off from it all. Turn off the TV, unplug the computer, leave the cell phone at home and the car in the garage. Listen only to beautiful music, or better yet just the sounds that nature provides. Perhaps read a book, not a stupid trashy one but something classic, something that makes you think.

Either we would probably all go nuts or a revolution of the best kind would break out in a planetary scale.

A funeral...

There was an enormous visitation and funeral for my brother Paul.

The ironic thing is the younger you are the more folks there are who know you, remember you, or simply are alive to attend your funeral. Whole high school gymnasiums are full for victims of tragic teenage car crashes and grand old people who lived long and done much are sometimes attended by only those who've been hired to carry the pall.

My brother was somewhere in between.

We're grateful for it all, that wave of care and support and kind words and fond memories that washed over us again and again. Even though standing under it exhausted us it left an indelible imprint on us, an image that we can draw on again and again when the harder times, the questioning times, come.

And they will.

I suspect that one day it will hit me, the randomness of it all, how unfair it seemed, the struggle of what lies ahead for his wife and children. And God and I will talk. Actually we'll argue, or rather I will. I will shout and cry and pound my feet on the floor because I am finite in the face of infinity. I will lose the battle, I certainly hope to, but I will make my stand anyway.

Until that time I will rest and try to get my soul untangled from it all. People are counting on me and that gives me a framework from which I can hang the threads of my life. I plan to take the weekend after next off and a quiet lake, a mandolin, and the cool fall winds will be restorative.

I suspect, too, that my own life will change in all of this. Not simply the obvious loss but rather the trajectory of things will be different. I want to write more. I have new responsibilities. Old ideas about what I wanted to be when I grew up have an increased urgency. What it means to be part of my family has changed.

Death takes away and adds in a curious arithmetic.

Something about time...

The thing about time is when you're in any moment time appears to be moving at a variety of speeds rooted in a host of variables. But when you look back time always seems to be going fast.