Celebrating the Strangest Things by Fr. Don Hying

This week, the strangest thing will occur. Millions of Christians throughout the world will gather to honor the humiliation, torture and crucifixion of Jesus Christ. In a global culture that usually celebrates power, strength and beauty, this public reverence of something so horrific is always a little shocking. Could it be that what so many people find absolutely compelling about the Passion narrative is the vulnerability of God?

In the Christ event, God leaves the safety and glory of heaven, in a sense, and embraces the limitations of our human condition, coming to know, in the flesh, both the glory and the tragedy of our nature without ever sinning. In the last week of his life, Jesus completely hands himself over to us. In the foot washing and the Eucharist, in the scourging and the crucifixion, the Son of God loves us completely, without restrictions, conditions or limits. Whether we accept, reject or ignore this Divine Love, Jesus does not change his stance towards us.

In Roman and Greek mythology, the gods are always scheming to manipulate humanity to serve their often-selfish ends and ego-driven schemes. In Christ, we encounter the startling subversion of this oppressive game. God serves us! In total humility, availability, vulnerability and mercy, God has come to love, forgive and save us. The weakness of the cross, the simplicity of the Eucharist, the shock of the foot washing, the love that seeks to embrace a traitor, a thief and a coward is so far beyond the competition of power politics, the whirl of social hubris and the grasp of worldly striving, that it takes our breath away. No wonder that kings will stand speechless in the presence of the Suffering Servant, as Isaiah proclaims.

If God could become that poor, vulnerable and humble to love me, then how can I ever stand on my self-importance? This week we celebrate the strangest things - weakness becomes strength, love conquers fear, wretched despair gives way to resurrected hope and never-ending death is swallowed up by eternal life - and it’s all because a naked criminal was thrown down on a cross 2000 years ago and he embraced it as if it were his marriage bed.

Fr. Don's post originally appeared on the Archdiocese of Milwaukee website.

picture source: Vatican website/Stations of the Cross

Pity for Judas

Wednesday of Holy Week is known as Spy Wednesday when we remember the betrayal of Jesus by one who had been his disciple and friend. I offer this revised re-post from Spy Wednesday, 2010.





















Had Judas given more forethought
to the misery he'd cause
by his selfish kiss of betrayal
would he have taken time to pause?

Would he have run back to the garden
and try to save the Lord
lanced the soldier's ear
like Peter with his sword?

Would he have tried to hide the Lord
safely tucked away
in some small room he'd known about
where he could quietly stay?

Would he have stood faithfully by His side
saying "Crucify me as well!"
unable to leave the one
who was destined to save him from hell?

Poor, poor Judas,
why did you turn awry
and forget to glance upon our Lord
with love and sorrow in your eye?

Why didn't you beg for forgiveness
and admit your evil act,
could you too, have had a chance for peace,
in our Savior's loving pact?

Instead you let despair
hang you from a tree
soul forever lost
name darkened through history.

Poor, poor Judas
I want to learn from you
the lesson we must all accept
and share with others, too.

God will always love us
His mercy never ends
if we but say we're sorry
and work to make amends.

The Fourth Station

Yesterday I had a choice. I could stay home and help my family paint the staircase and kitchen walls, partaking in a little spring cleaning and spiffing up of the house for my son's upcoming Confirmation party, or I could sneak away to the Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist for the Ordination to the Transitional Diaconate of five worthy young men. Well, just try to keep me away from Church, especially when it allows me the opportunity to pray for men who are on the journey to priesthood! I am so grateful that I chose the latter because if I hadn't been there, I would have missed an impromptu resemblance to the Fourth Station of the Cross.

Yesterday's beautiful Ordination Mass saw five fine young men take one step closer on their journey to the cross, the complete and total laying down of their lives for the Lord and His Church. At that Mass, hundreds of people welcomed Yamid Jose Blanco, Juan Manuel Comacho, Brad Alan Krawczyk, Ryan Joseph Preuss, and Hans Flondor of the Conventual Franciscan order, to the transitional diaconate and their final year of study and preparation for the priesthood.

Yamid is originally from Columbia, South America and his family traveled a great distance to be with him on this most special and important date. At the ordination Mass, the mothers of those receiving the Sacrament are asked to carry the gifts to the altar. After presenting the gifts, the mothers each had an opportunity to embrace their sons before once again taking their seats. From my vantage point far in the back of the church, I could sense that something was slightly amiss from the plan, things seemed to be taking longer than they should. As I strained to catch a better look I saw a touching moment of deep holiness that brought tears to my eyes and I'm sure to the eyes of many others who witnessed that scene. Long after all of the other mothers had taken their seats, one remained standing. Yamid's mother lingered, embracing her son while Archbishop Listecki patiently and lovingly looked on.

On Jesus' long and tortuous walk to his death, that same scene played out. Mary, after many years of only seeing her beloved son from a crowded and distant vantage point, who was often denied the close contact with her son to which she was so accustomed from His days of youth, was finally standing right in front of Him. Here at the Fourth Station, she could only embrace Him with her eyes, but oh, how her arms and heart must have ached to physically embrace him, to hold him up if only for a moment, to take some of his pain away. It was her moment of complete misery, to love Him so much but to have no choice other than to let Him go.

And here was Yamid's mother, at last after many years apart, able to reach out and hold her son. She knows that from now on, with each day that draws him closer to the priesthood, she will only see him from a crowded and distant vantage point. But at this moment when she met her son at the altar, her heart bursting with pride and joy and sorrow and love and every possible human emotion that a mother can have for her son, she held him long and close, knowing that beyond this Fourth Station he will be out of her hands and his life will no longer belong to her, but to God alone.

(picture source: The Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist, Milwaukee)

Soar

face to the ground searching for glass
wanting to bury my head right in that sand

nose in a book searching for God
hiding myself behind the pages

fingers striking the keyboard
writing thoughts with intentionality

how I want to remain hidden
a faceless spirit, a soundless voice
revealing myself
in letters and words alone

alas it cannot be
for I am made to trudge along
in this body- the humble container
for the spirit that longs
to soar beyond facial
expressions and physical
movement

so I will continue on
following His plan
for my life-both in body and spirit
until that glorious day
when I can finally leave the physical
behind to decay in the earth
from which it was made

and my spirit will finally be free
to fly with the angels

God of Wonders, God of Life

Regular readers will know that I have committed myself to offering all of my Lenten prayer, fasting and almsgiving to the pro-life cause this year in the hopes that my meager efforts might save a life, and our God of wonders might just have given me that opportunity today.

Last weekend when I busy promoting Roses for Our Lady at the pro-life spaghetti dinner to benefit the Women's Support Center here in Milwaukee, I had the good pleasure of meeting Mary Gilpin, the director of the Women's Support Center. She gave me a stack of her business cards to share with my clients at the WIC Clinic.

When Sharonda came in with her son Demetrius (not their real names, of course!), we had a lovely visit. This was the last time that Demetrius would come to the WIC Clinic for benefits since he would soon be five years old and WIC benefits end at that time. Demetrius was just a pure joy, smiling constantly and playing quietly while Sharonda and I talked about his health and eating habits. As the appointment was ending, I asked Sharonda if she had any other concerns today. She said, "Yes, actually, I do. I might be pregnant."

She went on to tell me that she has five children, Demetrius is her youngest (four sons, one daughter-just like me!) After he was born she had her tubes tied feeling that her time for having more children was over. She has not had a pregnancy test yet because her doctor told her it would be too early to tell for sure, but the worry is that because of her tubal ligation, this pregnancy may be ectopic, a danger to both mom and baby. She is praying that if she truly is pregnant that her baby will be in the uterus where he belongs and thus allow her to happily welcome another little one into her life, expected or not. But, her doctor advises abortion if baby would truly settle in her fallopian tubes.

In looking at WebMD to find out more about ectopic pregnancies I learned:

"Although there have been a few reported cases of women giving birth by cesarean section to live infants that were located outside the uterus, this is extremely rare. The chance of carrying an ectopic pregnancy to full term is so remote, and the risk to the woman so great, that it can never be recommended. It would be ideal if an ectopic pregnancy in the Fallopian tube could be saved by surgery to relocate it into the uterus. This concept has yet to become accepted as a successful procedure."

And with further snooping around the internet I found this story about a miracle baby that did survive an ectopic pregancy. This line left me gaping in amazement-the odds of delivering a full-term baby from an ectopic pregnancy is one million to one.

I asked Sharonda if I could share a resource with her, a place that could give her help, support and guidance regardless of the result of this possible pregnancy, and Sharonda very gratefully took a card for the Women's Resource Center and told me that she will be giving them a call.

Please join me in prayer for Sharonda...

God of wonders, God of life,

hold Sharonda and every expectant mother in your arms with the warm embrace that only Your love can provide. Offer her the reassurance of knowing that the risks and difficulties that come with motherhood are always more than incredibly worth it and that Your love will help her to overcome each and every trial which comes her way. Bring every bud of life growing within your daughters to full fruition. Be with the doctors who assist women in high-risk pregnancies,help them to use any and all medical advances that will save those precious babies whose early lives are at risk. Lord, you know that I am not an expert in medical care and can rarely find the right words to comfort others, but I thank you for the opportunity you gave me to share a pro-life resource with a woman in need. Sharonda and her little one are in Your hands Lord, do with them as You will. I trust in your mercy. I trust in your love.

Amen.

Having Too Much Fun

"Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush." Doug Larson




















In April my thoughts always turn to my dad as this was his birthday month. (Truthfully, my thoughts are frequently turned towards the memory of my dad no matter the month!) One of my favorite childhood memories was watching him sit down at the end of a long day, not at the kitchen table writing out checks to the missions with the polkas blaring as he usually did, but instead, sitting in the living room watching one of his two favorite television shows- All in the Family or Hogan's Heroes. He would never watch anything else. I can just picture him with his hand on the side of his face and tears rolling down his cheeks because he would be laughing so hard at the antics on those shows.

You could say that my dad was ahead of his time as far as sedentary activity was concerned. We were always restricted in our television viewing; we were never allowed to watch it during the day, that time was strictly for work or play and he himself abided by this rule. Today when I am at work, I am forever reminding young parents to limit the amount of time that they allow their children to watch TV and encourage them to provide plenty of opportunities for physical activity instead.

So there I was the other day, living in exact opposition to the advice I give, all cozied up on the sofa in front of the set wrapped in nostalgia as I happened to catch an All in the Family re-run on TV. In this particular episode, Mike and Gloria were expecting their first baby and they had invited Archie and Edith to spend Thanksgiving with them. Everyone was in an uproar (they were always in an uproar on that show) because Mike the "Meathead" atheist was adamant in his refusal to have the baby baptized and Archie was extremely upset about Mike's decision. The "Dingbat" Edith chimed in with a very interesting statement in support of Archie's request that his grandson be raised in the Christian faith. She said, "Children should go to church when they're little because when they're older they are having too much fun to be religious."

Her statement made me think that maybe "Dingbat" wasn't such a bad name for her after all. For even though I am no longer so young myself, I am having more fun now being "religious" than I ever did in the "fun" and reckless days of my youth! I can't fathom anything that is better or more pleasurable than silently kneeling in front of my Eucharistic Lord in adoration, or belting out one of my favorite hymns at Mass, or praising Him with my entire being in the glories of His nature. Watching my children finger their rosary beads as they pray is a great delight. Listening to someone who is hurting share their suffering and knowing that my presence and prayers give them comfort in some way brings me much joy. The sight of my family filling the pew at church is one of the greatest beauties I know. To abandon myself in the pages of a spiritual book brings peace and inspiration beyond my wildest imaginings, and perhaps, best of all, discovering a new friend whose faith is similar to my own gives me a thrill beyond compare!

Sure we have our troubles, our slushy shoes-there's never enough money, the aches and pains in our bodies constantly remind us of our fragile humanity, our sins may be forever before us glaring out for the world to see; but living with those troubles in the light of faith is far more enjoyable than living with those troubles in the darkness of doubt.

"Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother." Kahlil Gibran

So I will embrace my faith and live it to the hilt. I will enjoy every second of this precious life that God has chosen to bless me with and I will never know the pain of loneliness that comes from not being religious. I will retain a childlike spirit and go to church and for me that is fun! Can you hear me whistling with my shoe full of slush? It's spring!!!

Opening Our Weakness

Since I am so often inspired, challenged and moved by the words of one of my dearest friends, Fr. Don Hying, the Rector of St. Francis de Sales Seminary, I have asked him to become a regular contributor to Imprisoned in my Bones. Because he is a man who always says yes, thereby modeling the generosity of Christ, he will be sharing his wonderful writings here more frequently. He regularly writes a column for the Seminary supporters called "New Heart, New Spirit" and what follows is his most recent edition:

In the Office of Readings for Monday of the Third Week of Lent, Saint Basil the Great writes: “Boasting of God is perfect and complete when we take no pride in our own righteousness but acknowledge that we are utterly lacking in true righteousness and have been made righteous only by faith in Christ.”

Every time I make my commitments for Lent, I know that I am setting myself up for failure! Sooner or later, I am not going to perfectly fulfill my zealous promises on Ash Wednesday to pray, fast and give alms with greater generosity and depth. The penance of Lent seems to open up our weakness on purpose, to encourage us to both embrace a spiritual ideal that is beyond our grasp and to console us when we fail along the way. Wouldn’t it be easier to just set our sights lower, so that we would fall closer to the ground?

In his quote, St. Basil reminds us that we need to radically get in touch with our sinfulness and weakness, to experience the collapse of our self-sufficiency, to feel the pain of our moral failures, to taste the bitterness of plans defeated, so that we can come more fully to faith in Christ as the One who loves, redeems, forgives and clothes in righteousness.

What can be said of Lent can probably be said of seminary formation as well. A man preparing for the priesthood is challenged on so many levels to grow and be formed anew in Christ. The seminary will call him to allow these years of intense preparation to mold and shape his intellect, prayer, manners, morals, sexuality, punctuality, management skills, ability to communicate, emotions and thoughts. This process is a tall order and no one does it perfectly.

Precisely where seminary ideals and human weakness intersect can be found the mercy of God! Knowing both our strengths and weaknesses well, we can thank God for the gifts we have received and humbly rely on Him in our imperfections. God always chooses earthen vessels to accomplish His will in this world. Both Lent and the seminary call us to shoot for the stars, in terms of sanctity, but also remind us that only the grace, mercy and righteousness of Christ can actually carry us to that sacred place Jesus calls the Kingdom of God.

Once we get what Basil is talking about, our life can become a balance of self-acceptance and self-challenge, always striving for a deeper embrace of the devout life, yet knowing that we will continue to sin. Is this steady climb of rising and falling not an extension of Jesus’ journey to Calvary, a place of death, but ultimately the strange and wonderful spot of final victory?