Riches

I have been given such beautiful friends. My heart feels squeezed to think of them. I especially love my friends Tony Seda and Tim Baldwin. Tony talks more, he is "louder" with his faith, he speaks with fire and passion and the man has suffered so much and it has turned him into gold. I don't know Tim as well, but this is because he is quieter. He is simple and has a great heart, his quietness is a perfect complement to Tony's personality. Together the two are beautiful. They have not gotten to know me in the normal way, we've spent very little time together in each other's presence. And yet they extend to me the love of Christ without any reserve. I feel completely comfortable with them. I cannot go on in many words about them because...I just don't want to. I just want to appreciate them, and what God has made of them. They are true men. They are hidden saints. Blessed be He for what He has done in them; they have done nothing on their own!
I have been given my parents, whose generosity knows no bounds, who are so cool about the toughest stuff, and this is such a turn-around from when I was a kid. The compassion and faith of my parents threatens to bring tears to my eyes. I love them. Blessed be He for what He has done in them; they have done nothing on their own!
I have been given my grandmother. Her faith is constant, her prayers are constant. I know her now not only as Gramma but as the woman she is. I am so grateful that in this the sunset of her life I have been granted to know her not as a child knows but as an adult knows. Her faith is simple and quiet. Her natural impulse is to pray for others. She delights in simple things. She speaks French. Blessed be He, for what He has done in her; she has done nothing on her own!
I have been given Theresa. Her sense of humor is a paragon of wit. Her mind is sharp as a razor and her faith is of iron. She loves being Catholic. She is so much like me, we think in very similar ways. Though our friendship is new, it is precious. Our minds are like two instruments tuned to one another. Her family is beautiful. They sing together. They love the Lord, and they love each other. Blessed be He for what He has done in them; they have done nothing on their own!
I have been given Lisa. Of her my heart could sing. Her simplicity dazzles me. She is like a child in all that she does, and yet her great maturity makes her the most striking woman. Her faith is powerful, her love as of fire. We are so different. I am always excited to be with her. She always impresses me with something new. Sometimes, I feel I can only stand in awe of her. Blessed be He, for what He has done in her; she has done nothing on her own!
These are the friends who have been most active in my life in the past month. I love all of my friends with fervor. These ones stand on my heart in this moment. For whoever is reading this, know that in a true friend, you will see the love of Christ. It is so beautiful that it makes your heart burn. I'm big on being physical, so I will say my chest actually feels tingly, tight, and hot when I experience this love so freely offered. Do I wish to see the love of my Lord? Do I wish to know even a tiny facet of His love? Let me see Him reflected in my friends. The only prayer worth making for myself in this moment is that my heart would be seared by such love and that with my whole being I would turn to Him. Let my whole being be His, for how far I am from Him! How little I truly desire His will! Truly...I am a rich man.

The Clone Wars

A friend asked me a great question today. "As a dedicated Star Wars fan, do you think the new animated Clone Wars movie is good, or do you think this falls more into the category of the Star Wars Christmas special?" My answer was long enough to blog about.

I am wicked excited about the movie, even though it is animated. I have never seen the Christmas special all the way through, but from what I've heard, and seen, it really really is crap. Now I know the Christmas special was designed to keep up interest between episodes IV and V. That was its only purpose. The Clone Wars movie has much more foundation, and here's why:

1. The Clone Wars is a topic that every Star Wars fan has wondered about ever since it was cryptically mentioned on May 25, 1977 (the release date for episode IV), when Princess Leia's hologram said to Obi-Wan Kenobi "Years ago you fought with my father in the Clone Wars." What are these mysterious "clone wars"? How to they affect the story of Star Wars? The rise of the Empire? The fall of the Jedi? So its a really hot topic.

2. Since Episode II came out, there has been much merchandising which capitalizes from the Clone Wars. There are many comics. There are many novels. The characters of Boba and Jango Fett have been really played up, especially by author Karen Traviss. There are games. And, there was a cartoon series aired on Cartoon Network a few years back which covered the period of the Clone Wars. It was done by the same animator who did Dexter's Laboratory. It was like a series of twenty 10 minute shorts, or something like that. Its these cartoons that the animated movie is based on. The animation isn't intended to reflect real life, if you look you'll notice it looks like a CGI cartoon; its based from the cartoon's style of animation.

3. CGI and special effects technology are mind boggling today. Movies are phenomenal. I'd go see it just for the CGI.

4. It develops the character of Anakin Skywalker. Star Wars, as Lucas himself admits, is Anakin's story. So anything which shows him in detail is attractive.

So with all that, there is a much larger fan base for the Clone wars and it stands on its own as a story which fits into the whole saga, rather than simply trying to say "so, while you're waiting for Empire Strikes Back, here's what is going on in Luke's life!" That is why the Clone Wars movie is going to rock and the Christmas special flopped like a pancake.

House of Cards

A thought crossed my mind which scared me. The thought that perhaps all this change which is going on in me is not permanent. Perhaps it is all just the result of emotional turmoil from the situation I am going through. A rock has been thrown into my pond and the mud is all stirred up on the bottom. Will it all just settle down, covering the rock, and everything looks the same? Is this change for real, or does it have all the integrity and permanence of a house of cards? I told God that I would be willing to go through anything if it meant that the lessons I've learned, the faith I've gained, the trust I've placed in Him, would not disappear like the morning mist. I consider these things more precious than anything in my life. I pray that I would be really a new Shawn. That people would look at me and see a difference, see the change, the joy, the confidence. I never want to be the way I was again. Let this growth be etched upon my heart, never to be defaced.

Do not underestimate the Force.

I just thought of something which I wanted to post up here. One of the interesting things about the Force in Star Wars, is that really what it boils down to is the human soul. Imagine the intricacies of the human soul; love, hate, hurt, desire. The Force takes those things, and asks the question, “What if we had absolute power to act on those things? What if I had the power to bend someone to my will with a simple wave of my hand? What if I had the power to keep a mortally wounded friend alive purely by the force of my will? What if I had the power to break those who hurt me? Who opposed me? To reach out with my mind and crush away their life? It’s a question of the soul, but imagines “what if we had the power…” I thank God we don’t have that power. We would be gods, and therefore, would be demons.

A Knight of Christ

Recent experiences are certainly teaching me about the value of the cross, and offering up suffering. I feel I am growing closer to Christ in this period of trial, though I pray I would not turn back to my former lack of devotion and unbelief once everything clears up. Yesterday a good friend gave me something very precious to her, the brown scapular. I am still learning about it. Here is a good link to an article on EWTN about it.

http://www.ewtn.com/library/Prayer/zbrwnscap.HTM

I'm beginning to think that the crusader scapular is a devotion to which my heart is specially molded. The devotion is Carmelite; one of my best friends is deeply formed by Carmelite spirituality and she wears it, as does my friend Kim now. John of the Cross and Theresa of Avila, Therese of Lisieux, and several other Carmelite saints are all somehow involved in my spiritual journey. Through this scapular I feel a special communion with these great saints and doctors of the Church.
The devotion is Marian. This is huge. My spiritual life began in earnest with the Rosary. The Blessed Mother brought my dad back to the Faith and preserves my family in it. She is beautiful, and I am loathe to admit that in my heart some hesitation still exists to fully abandon myself into her matronly arms. A good friend from home once said to me, "As you grow in your relationship with Jesus and Mary, you realize that there is no difference." Now before all my beloved protestant friends freak out, no, this is not a canonization of Mary as the 4th member of a Holy Quaternity. What it means is that her beautiful, perfectly created and preserved human soul (and body, too, b/c of the Assumption), is in such union with Christ that to speak to one is to automatically be drawn to the other. Mary draws us lovingly and tenderly to Our Lord, saying "Do whatever He tells you." (John 2:5) She helps us to stand at the foot of the Cross, as she did. And Our Lord in turn says to us, "Behold your mother." (John 19:27) I don't know what I'd do without her love, so graciously given to us by Christ to lead us to him. She is Mother of all Christians. I pray that by devotion to this scapular, I may truly, in a concrete way, be united with her. That my hesitation would cease and that I would finally open my heart to the streams of grace which pour down from Heaven from Our Lord.

The scapular itches slightly. It is supposed to. Its not at all annoying, I just have to reach up every once in a while to adjust it, and every time I do, I am reminded.

But this scapular isn't your average scapular. Its tricked out with the Crusader Cross. It is a simple gold colored cross with little flanges on the ends, woven into the fabric. This tradition hearkens back to the Crusades. The Crusades started simply with the idea of armed pilgrimage. In the Middle Ages, it was extremely dangerous for a traveler to attempt the long and arduous journey from the Christian West to the Holy Land. Thugs and robbers abounded. Islam encroached (no, I am not pegging the Muslims, but history does show much aggression between them and and Christendom, on both sides). If you wanted to get to the Holy Land in one piece, you'd best be packing a well victualed caravan and some serious medieval heat. It soon developed into full scale attempts on the part of Christendom to liberate the Holy Land from Islamic control and open it up to the faithful. The first Crusade began as a call for aid by Byzantine Emperor Alexius I Comnenus to defend the East from Turkish incursion. It resulted in the capture of Jerusalem. It was the only "successful" crusade, in that it established Christian control in the Holy Land. All the other ones after that tanked in variously spectacular ways. The worst was probably the 4th Crusade, when all the Latins decided "Hey everybody, lets change direction and sack Constantinople instead! Waaahhhg!" Yeah, good job Latin West, you know the East is still p/o'ed about that right? But I digress.

When a knight or a peasant responded to the call to go on Crusade, he was given a Cross of rough fabric and it was sewn onto his garment. In this way the soldier literally "took the Cross" of Christ. Crusade was arduous, difficult, and many died of disease before even seeing combat. It was truly considered a penance and a trial to take up the Cross for Christ to defend his people. That is why the Church attached indulgences to it. For me, I find it very appealing to my masculinity. A soldier of Christ. By taking up the Cross, I can unite my sufferings to Christ's and bring redemption and grace to the world. I can respond to the call of my Lord to take up my Cross and follow him. It feels like a sacred duty, what it really means to be human, but especially, because of the soldier aspect, to be a Christian man. That I am a soldier in the Army of Our Lord, bearing His standard upon my breast. And that I am marked with the mantle of Our Lady, and she goes with me in my journey, my quest. Its all very chivalrous, but I think there's something right and good and holy about that.

Old Rugged Cross

A hymn I find inspiring. Have I mentioned I am a sucker for Protestant hymn tradition?

1.      On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,

        the emblem of suffering and shame;

        and I love that old cross where the dearest and best

        for a world of lost sinners was slain.

Refrain:

        So I'll cherish the old rugged cross,

        till my trophies at last I lay down;

        I will cling to the old rugged cross,

        and exchange it some day for a crown.

2.      O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,

        has a wondrous attraction for me;

        for the dear Lamb of God left his glory above

        to bear it to dark Calvary.

        (Refrain)

3.      In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,

        a wondrous beauty I see,

        for 'twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,

        to pardon and sanctify me.

        (Refrain)

4.      To that old rugged cross I will ever be true,

        its shame and reproach gladly bear;

        then he'll call me some day to my home far away,

        where his glory forever I'll share.

        (Refrain)

Joy and Sorrow

Something happened today, and even now I am in tears. Really, I am crying out loud, there is snot running down my face and my throat is dry. And yet...it is in this moment that I realize how far I have come...I only hope that my words can describe what it is I mean, because in all my life I have wished that I could express myself, really express myself. I will not say what has happened, though the reader is free to guess, simply because I am too ashamed. With all the feelings I have within me, shame is not an insignificant one.
I feel that I truly realize the meaning of "God chastises the one's whom he loves." Never before in my life have I understood this in my heart, I always felt something twisted like "If things are going well, it must be that God isn't chastizing me, and therefore doesn't love me." Or, when things are going bad, it was "God is punishing me for my sins." The implication there-in was that God was angry and vindictive, simply trading hurt for hurt, as I have done, many times. And this, I see now, has nothing to do with Our Father in Heaven. It is truly, in all its crappiness, a moment of grace for me, and the deepest prayer of my heart is that this experience would not leave me unchanged. It is the greatest fear of my heart...I feel the tightness in my chest at the mere thought of it, that I, once I begin to feel better, will go back to my former self. That I will be left unchanged, and that all of this would have been for nothing. But even so, my fear is not of useless suffering (though that would truly be awful), but that of truly remaining unchanged. Holiness, and maturity of the soul, are the only things which really matter in this life. It is the essence of what it is to be human; to be like Christ. In holiness and maturity we learn love, we learn sacrifice, we learn self control; all of these things make us fitting citizens for heaven. Blessed be He that He has not spared me these lessons! Pray that He may never spare me these lessons, but that His dealings with me would always be tempered by His Mercy! My Jesus, let me not go unchanged, I beg this of you. It seems for my whole life, I have longed for some sort of milestone. Some sort of conversion experience, or defining moment. Could it be that at last it has arrived, in all its bitterness? And yet, AND YET, and this is the astounding, amazingly funny part, because my faith has told me this all these years and still I have not believed, it is this bitterness that the greatest blessings can come! As my dear friend Anja has said before, "Cling to the rugged wood of the cross, and in its shadow you will find sweetness and honey." (God bless her!) Hope...that is something I feel...not despair. Not the familiar cloud of self loathing and fear of all the worst things that could happen, the familiar down-ward spiral of negative thoughts which land in the ultimate, seemingly inevitable conclusion of a life of misery ended with damnation. How strange, that in my life, when things were best, I felt at my worst, and now, at their worst, I realize that indeed, the grace of my Lord is with Me, that his name is Faithful and True.

Living at the mercy of the needle...

At the behest of my new friend Lisa, I have decided to give blogging a shot. I originally thought I would write some long extended musing simply about the nature of blogging, but when I got into my car to drive home from Lititz I was struck with an all too familiar situation. My gas needle. Every morning, indeed, everytime I get into my car, I observe its little position. I look nervously between it and my tripometer reading, hoping that this time around, my car is getting unusually good mileage. I have a little system in my head; if the tripometer reaches 150 miles by the time the needle reaches halfway, then I am pleased. I try and divide my tank into fractions by the lines on the meter. I am constantly doing this little math. But this is not all! My needle likes to play tricks with me! Foolish thing that it is...it will stay hovering around a given line for a day, maybe two, doing its little dance with the waves in my tank. Uphill always means a fuller tank. Downhill means empty. How I wish I could drive uphill most of the time...but on average, it will stay around whatever level its at. Just when I begin to get comfortable, and expect that it is dropping at a steady, efficient rate, BAM! I turn on my car, and there is my needle, hovering an 8th of a tank below the point it was when I turned the car off. Laughing at me. "You thought I was 3 quarters full? Haha! Just kidding!" Horrible images of a slight hole in my gas tank, soft tires, and weight in my trunk plague me. All because of the price of gas. All because of my lack of funds. I find myself cursing my car's poor mileage, and feeling fear that my car may not even get 20 miles to the gallon. I suppress a shudder. I must remind myself that I have been given much, indeed, the CAR was given to me. I once asked a wise man what would happen to me if gas went to 5 or 6 dollars a gallon. He said to me, "You? You are going to trust that no matter what, God is going to provide you with everything you need to do his will." I know that this truth should put an end to my little game with the needle. But it is difficult. And the needle just keeps dropping.