Black and White

“Shades of grey wherever I go; The more I find out the less that I know; Black and white is how it should be; But shades of grey are the colors I see.”  ~Billy Joel, (William Martin Joel) American singer, song-writer, composer (b 1949)

“Jason!?” His mother’s voice could be heard all the way from the kitchen. It wasn’t just the volume and pitch of her voice that he found disconcerting; it was the way in which she inflected his name upward that gave him pause and concern. “JAAY-SON??” her voice came again. “What are you watching?”

Jason was in the family room watching the big screen TV his dad had purchased just so he could watch football and basketball games. His Dad was working late tonight and the 55^th Grammys were on so Jason intended to make full use of this wonderful piece of technology, particularly the surround sound.

“JASON?” His mom’s voice was closer now. He quickly turned the volume to, what he thought was, an acceptable level. Checking the screen he was relieved to see that Adele was on screen. She was wearing a simple black dress. Mom couldn’t object to that, could she? Thankfully, Nicki Minaj and the guy in the Pope outfit were gone. That would have set his mom off in an instant.

His mom whisked into the room. “What are you watching?” she asked, hands fisted on hips. “Just a TV show,” Jason replied lamely. “What TV show?” she persisted. “Just the Grammys,” he said, looking away from her and at the screen.

To his horror, Adele was gone and Lady Gaga had appeared, replete with a low-cut black dress, black fish-net veil, and a gold scepter. It was too late to change the channel by punching the Discovery Channel preset.

“Let me see what you’re watching,” his mother demanded, coming face to face with “the Gaga.”  She stood there staring at the screen. Jason fantasized for a moment that Lady Gaga was staring back at her.

In an instant, his Mom snatched the remote from his hand. A moment later the screen went black and the electronic hum died. “You aren’t watching that trash in my house!” she scolded, tossing the remote onto the couch.

“What do you expect me to do?” he whined. “My homework is all done.”

His mom stared at him for a moment. “Go upstairs and play your video games,” she said finally.

In the early “Westerns” one could always tell the “good guys” from the “bad guys.” Black hats and white hats aside, the good guys were always clean-shaven and well dressed. The bad guys, for the most part, were ill-groomed, slovenly and ill-mannered. This created an over-simplified and stereotypical view of the world.

There are many who still apply this stereotypical approach. We create or adopt our definition of what is good and what is bad. If something or someone fits the “Good” definition it/they are considered acceptable. If our “Good” definition doesn’t fit however, then the person, cause, or thing is deemed “Bad” and we demonize it.  For example, some of the early leaders of the Christian church deemed that women were the source of sin in the world. Therefore, women, as a group, were deemed bad.

As Christian Stewards we are called to view the world in a very different way. None of God’s creation is inherently bad. All of creation is, in fact, a gift. God created Agnes Gonxha Bojaxhiu (Mother Teresa) and God created Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta (Lady Gaga). Just as Mother Teresa’s “gifts/talents” are products of a loving Creator so are Lady Gaga’s “gifts/talents” products of that same loving Creator. 

The Grammys display to the world much of the great musical talent God has created. No one can argue that Christina Aguilera doesn’t have a great voice, for instance, although there may be other aspects of her lifestyle which are disconcerting.

In this respect, Jason’s Mom missed an opportunity. Rather than dismissing the Grammys as “trash,” this could have been a chance to sit with her son and watch the awards together. In this way she could have pointed out those things which were good, and those things which were questionable or inappropriate.

We too are called, at all times, to point out the goodness of God’s creation, rather than demonize it.

God doesn’t make junk. We make junk out of what God creates.

Dear God: Remind me to first look for your presence in all things.

“May your neighbors respect you, trouble neglect you, angels protect you and heaven accept you” ~Drake

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM 90SS!

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
 

Going Postal

“Great works are often born on a street corner or in a restaurant's revolving door.” ~Albert Camus, French author, journalist and philosopher (1913-1960)

The USPS Office at the corner of Washington Boulevard and 10^th Avenue is located in the center of an ancient strip mall. Its very appearance made me distinctly uncomfortable.

My supervisor had directed me here because “it is never busy.” Now I could see why. At this point, it didn’t matter where it was or what it looked like. My 12-year-old pickup was laden with mismatched pasteboard boxes filled with stuffed #10 envelopes.   The 1100-piece Christmas mailing had to go out “pronto.” Here I was, so here it would be dropped off.

Staring at the boxes for a moment, I decided the best course of action was to go inside first and find out what I needed to do. I didn’t relish the idea of schlepping the boxes inside then putting all these envelopes down a mail chute handful by handful. So I carefully locked the truck with a sigh and headed inside.

When I entered the lobby, to my surprise, there were only two people in line.  In suburban post offices during the Christmas season, it would not have been unusual to encounter a line of 10 to 20 people. My brief euphoria dissipated, however, when I realized that the sole postal clerk appeared to be behind bullet-proof glass.

Stepping into line, I mentally rehearsed the question(s) I would asked when it was finally my turn. In this moment of “unawareness,” a voice from behind me startled me. “Excuse me sir, can I help you?” Turning, I found myself facing a young, diminutive African-American woman. Her blue postal uniform appeared at least a size too large. “Excuse me?” I asked. “Can I help you?” she responded again with a smile.

I quickly, though not very succinctly, explained what I was trying to accomplish. “So do you just want me to bring the boxes to the counter or do you want me to put the envelopes down the mail chute?”

“You can just bring them to that door over there,” she said pointing in the direction of a nearby door which led into the back. “Can I get you a cart?” Her last question surprised me. My experience with governmental bureaucracy has jaded me over the years. During my past encounters, it always seemed I was standing in the wrong line, had not filled out the necessary form, or had filled out the wrong form. Her proactive response had caught me unawares. “I’ll get you a cart,” she said disappearing into the back before I could respond.

The young woman returned in moments. “Do you want me to go out and bring your boxes in for you?” Again, I was surprised. “No, that’s OK,” I stammered. “I can do it.”

Hastening to my truck, I quickly loaded the boxes into the cart. Relocking the truck, I headed back across the parking lot and into the building. The young woman had just finished helping another customer as I entered. She smiled and took control of the cart. “Would you like your boxes back?” For the third time I was surprised.

“No, that’s OK. There are more where those came from.” She smiled one last time, turned and disappeared into the back room.

As I left the Post Office and head back to my truck, the day seemed brighter somehow.

All too often, our lives are conditioned by the way in which we are treated by others. Our days are marred by freeway encounters and harsh words exchanged between family members, fellow employees, and sometimes complete strangers.

As a result, we tend to focus on avoidance rather than commitment. When people recount uncomfortable incidents in their lives, they often emphasize their own lack of blame. Expressions like: “I didn’t do anything wrong” or “I don’t know what his problem was” are common.

In a world where avoidance becomes the primary objective, we often lose sight of our own tremendous capacity to do good and to have a positive influence on the lives of others. Just as evil often begets evil, so too does good often beget good.

During the Christmas season, in a Post Office, I readily expected to be treated badly, or at best indifferently. That expectation jaded any encounter I might have had. On the other hand, the helpful cheery little postal clerk, who undoubtedly was overworked, broke a potentially bad cycle.

As stewards of our relationships with others, we are not called to avoid confrontations; rather we are called to break cycles of negativity by our capacity to do good. We are not called to be blameless bystanders; rather we are called to be fearless do-gooders. Be of good cheer!

Dear God: Show me how I can make a difference in the world.

“A tree is known by its fruit; a man or women by their deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.” ~Saint Basil, Greek Bishop of Caesarea Mazaca in Cappadocia, Asia (329-379)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Efficiently Ineffective

“Technology…the knack of so arranging the world that we don’t have to experience it.” ~Max Frisch, Swiss playwright and novelist  (1911-1991)

The traffic signal glowed red as I coasted to a stop. South bound on Western Avenue, I was facing the Interstate 10 overpass.  Cars were lining up to turn onto the down ramps, but I was headed on into south/central LA.  It was daylight, though the sun had yet to make its appearance.

Glancing to my left, I noticed a large shiny black SUV idling next to me. The female driver had just finished applying an extra layer of lip gloss. She checked her image in the visor mirror then flipped it back into position. Retrieving her cell phone, she absentmindedly thumbed through her emails, occasionally glancing nervously at the traffic signal. During this flurry of activity she remained expressionless.

In the back seat sat two school-aged children, both well-dressed. They were staring at the corner of the SUV roof. It was easy to deduce that the vehicle was equipped with a video screen, and they were watching a recorded cartoon or a children’s show. Neither smiled nor even seemed to blink.

Movement to my right captured my attention. Turning, I caught sight of an old Schwinn bicycle coasting to a stop on the sidewalk. Seated on the bike was grandfatherly-looking black man, his tight curly hair peppered with gray. I couldn’t help but notice the bright glittery pink hand bag clamped in the spring loaded carrier over the back wheel of the bike.

Seated on the crossbar, in front of the old gentleman, was a young girl. It was obvious she was his granddaughter. The granddaughter was dressed in a worn, but impeccably clean, blue and white checked skirt of the Catholic School uniform variety. A pink book bag, which matched the purse, was carefully slung over her shoulder. She rode the crossbar sidesaddle, holding onto the center of the handlebars with both hands. This did not prevent her from carrying on an animated conversation with the man I supposed to be her grandfather.

I mused for a moment over what their circumstances might be. Particularly the circumstances that necessitated her grandfather taking her to school on an old bicycle. It didn’t seem to matter though, as they laughed and chatted to one another.

The sound of a horn brought me out of my moment of contemplation. The light had changed to green and as I pulled through the intersection I watched the “SUV Family” scoot away and disappear down a ramp to the eastbound 10, the two children still staring into oblivion.

I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw the grandfather begin to pedal the bike along the sidewalk arduously, but with great care, the two of them still chatting away.

No, I will never know the circumstances of those two families. But from all appearances, the grandfather and his granddaughter were far better off.

Just because we are living efficiently, it doesn’t mean we are living our lives effectively. We have been blessed with a great many wonderful conveniences which make our lives easier. Nicer cars, phones with cutting-edge technology, more efficient appliances all help to make our lives easier, but are they making our lives better? How can it be, with all the time-saving devices in the world today, we consistently seem to have less time for one another?

Author Fr. Richard Leonard once identified “technology” as one of the “7 Addictions.” The more we have, the more we seem to need. Like any other addiction, it provides us with a false sense of security. This does not mean that technology is inherently bad. But at the end of the day, “who owns who?”

When things go horribly wrong, as they did last week in a school in a sleepy town in Connecticut, we turn to human relationships for solace, not to technology.

I am not suggesting that life circumstances which require a man to take his granddaughter to school on a secondhand bicycle are a good thing.  And yet, stripped of technological conveniences, unable to call her, text her, or email her, he could still share his life with her. That relationship is priceless.

Dear God: Remind me always that there is a difference between sending a message and having a conversation.

“The drive toward complex technical achievement offers a clue as to why the U.S. is good at space gadgetry and bad at slum problems.” ~John Kenneth Galbraith, Canadian-American economist (1908-2006)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by Deacon James E. Carper, Director of Marketing and Development at Holy Name of Jesus School in south/central Los Angeles. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Holyday Celebration

“Beware the barrenness of a busy life.” ~Socrates, Greek philosopher (BC 469–399)

Mary Elizabeth was the first to notice. It was hard not to. The glowing form was unmistakable. The question was what to do about it. She knew the Associate, Father John, was probably in the confessional. Arriving at the “large black box,” she knocked quietly, but insistently. “Father John, Father John!” she said in an escalating stage whisper. “Come quickly!”

Father John, a gaunt, young priest in wire-rimmed glasses appeared at the door of the confessional. “What is it, Mary Elizabeth? I was doing my morning prayer.” “Come quickly!” she said again. “You have to see this.”

Father John followed Mary Elizabeth across the narthex and into the sanctuary. “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing at the center aisle. As he stared at the sight before him, Father John’s eyes widened. There before him, moving slowly down the long center aisle of St. Bartholomew’s, was the glowing form of a person, its arms were outstretched, palms up. It only took a moment for Father John to recognize the figure of Christ.

Mary Elizabeth was shaking his arm. “What do we do, Father?” Father John took a last quick look and, leaving Mary Elizabeth behind, turned and bolted out the side door of the church into the parking lot. He was headed for the Rectory and the pastor’s office.  

Father Matthew was seated quietly at his desk, reading the morning paper when Father John burst into his office. Father Matthew looked up at him over the top of his glasses. “Aren’t you suppose to be hearing confessions right now?” he asked, looking back at his paper.

“You are not going to believe this!” Father John blurted out. “Oh, not much surprises me anymore,” replied Father Matthew calmly, still looking at his paper. “Well this just might,” retorted an exasperated Father John.

He quickly recounted his story to the Pastor. Father Matthew’s only response was, “Are you sure?” Father John finished with a flourish, “Father Matthew, Jesus Christ himself is walking down the center aisle of our church. WHAT DO WE DO?”

Father Mathew jumped to his feet, dropping his paper and losing his glasses in the process. “Go to your office, Father John!” “What?” Father John asked. “I said go to your office. Undoubtedly, after Jesus finishes in the church he will come here.” “And when he does make sure of one thing and one thing only…”

Father Matthew paused for a moment at if to emphasize the gravity of his words: “LOOK BUSY!”

Our modern society has come to equate “busyness” with value. If I am busy doing something, I must be of value. This false sense of worth has been exacerbated by the recent employment crisis in our country. If I’m working (busy), I am of value. Father Matthew wanted to look busy for the Lord. To show there was merit in his being in the position he was in, that he was worthy or deserving.

What he failed to realize was that God loves us without qualification, whether we are extremely busy or at rest.  We are all truly equal in God’s eyes.

During the Christmas Season, we prepare for the “Second Coming” by celebrating the first. Unfortunately, we often find ourselves so busy “doing Christmas” that we neglect to actually celebrate it.  In modern times, “celebrate” has come to mean, to “party,” often to the point of inebriation. It is easy to forget that the celebration of a religious holiday, Christian or otherwise, is, in and of itself a preparation.

As good stewards of our time on earth, we are called to take time to celebrate. Celebration literally means “to observe with ceremonies of respect, festivity, or rejoicing.” Celebrating Christmas (or Easter or Passover) is not so much the event itself (the holiday), but the preparation for the bigger event – the coming of the Messiah.

This year, take some time to make “the holiday” a Holy Day.

 Dear God: May I never be too busy to spend time with you.

“It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The questions is: What are we busy about?” ~Henry David Thoreau, American author, poet, philosopher, abolitionist, naturalist, tax resister, development critic, surveyor, historian, and leading transcendentalist (1817–1862)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Advent-tageous

“All things are ready, if our mind be so.”  ~William Shakespeare, English poet and playwright (1564-1616)

The closet disappeared into the darkness beneath the stairs. Its appearance was deceptive to say the least. A short single rod across the opening, filled with winter coats, made it look as if it were simply a shallow, hall coat closet.

Once the coats were pushed aside however, it revealed an enclosure which sloped down following the underside the stairs then turning right disappearing out of sight. Parting the clothes and peering in always reminded me of the days I read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to my then 8-year old daughter, Angela.

Those memories quickly dissipated with the realization that I was there to clean and not to reminisce. On several occasions I had mustered the courage to begin this cleaning project. Unfortunately I never got much beyond sorting the clothes hung on the wooden dowel, reluctantly taking a few to the Salvation Army, then returning the remainder to the spot where they had previously hung.

Today I was resolute. Today I would finish the cleaning job that had so often frustrated me. Laying aside the coats and jackets, I clicked on the flash light and headed in for the first layer of boxes. One-by-one I opened each box, carefully examining the contents. Some I resealed and accurately labeled. Others were set aside in a tentative donation pile for approval by my wife Teresa. The third and smallest group was held out for possible use.

The project was going unusually well. Three-quarters of the way into the closet however, I stumbled upon a nondescript, almost unmarked box. It was sealed with reinforced packing tape which the unknown manufacturer had placed there some time in the past. The only thing decipherable on the box was a series of numbers (2 2 94). Showing the box to Teresa, I asked if she recognized it. She did not.

Pulling the box cutter from my hip pocket, I carefully sliced the packing tape. Pulling open the lid, we discovered a series of foil packets. They resembled the food and water packets that backpackers take on extended outings. It was then that we realized what this was.

Shortly after the Northridge earthquake in January, 1994, we decided we would never be caught unprepared for an earthquake again. Living seventeen miles from the epicenter was enough of a wakeup call for anybody. So, to this end, we purchased an over-priced survival kit of dried food, water, and supplies and had carefully stored it under the stairs. 2.2.94 was the date we had purchased it, making it nearly 20 years old.

“Think this stuff is any good?” I asked Teresa. “I have the perfect place for this box,” she replied. Taking the box from my hands, she headed out the back door in the direction of the garbage cans.

The willingness to be prepared always seems to be in direct proportion to the proximity of the disaster for which we are preparing. In other words, two weeks after our experience of the Northridge earthquake, we were nearly desperate to assure ourselves we would be prepared for the next seismic event. Nineteen years later, however, it didn’t seem like such a big deal.

As stewards of the life God has given us we are not only called to live our lives well, but to also be well prepared for the end of our lives as well. Life is many things, but Thomas Merton reminded us that living our life well means spiritually preparing ourselves for death.

One way to approach this is to live each day well. It is easy to get mired in activity and the relentless urge to be busy; to be task-oriented. For some, life’s happiness is measured by completing everything on our “to do” list. But living a life filled with activity does not necessarily mean we are living life to its fullest.

We are entering the season of Advent. Advent means “coming.” When we know something is coming, if we are conscientious, we prepare for it. Take some time this Advent season to prepare for the coming of Christ spiritually.

Life’s earthquakes will come, as will those great moments of joy. Their advent is upon us. Be prepared.

Dear God: Help me to live in the moment while learning from the past and preparing for the future.

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” ~Mark Twain, American humorist, writer and lecturer (1835-1910)
©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Hope-more-ness

“Where hope would otherwise become hopelessness, it becomes faith.” ~Robert Brault, American free-lance writer

It was February, a cold, winter’s night in Dayton. That winter, Stephen had been living under the old abandoned railroad bridge over South Patterson Boulevard near Veterans Park. It had been owned by the Norfolk Southern Railroad Company but it had been out of use for decades. The city was planning on tearing it down.

It was Stephen’s only shelter. He was hungry and cold. It was 20 degrees and had started snowing an hour or so earlier. He felt afraid, useless, and as if his life had just “run out of road.” The thoughts of suicide had been growing in him for some time. Maybe he was like this old train trestle the city was going to tear down. Maybe he had outlived his usefulness and it was time to just be done away with.

As he was considering the possible ways in which he could end his life and his misery, Stephen heard someone crying on the bridge platform above. He scrambled up the side of the bridge embankment. Reaching the top he discovered a young woman.   

Her only possessions were the clothes she wore.  She had a strange cherub-like face. Her name was Vangelis, a very strange name. Vangelis told Stephen she too was contemplating suicide.

Stephen invited her to come down to the sheltering area under the bridge. They spent the night around a barrel fire, talking about their addictions and a higher power they both sensed but could not grasp. They shared their experience, strength, and hope with one another.

Stephen awoke the next morning leaning against a stone bridge pillar, his body cold and stiff, but his spirits lifted. Vangelis, however, was gone. He never saw her again after that night. But for some unexplainable reason he was no longer afraid of being homeless and living under a bridge.

Do you believe in angels? I do! Not the ones of the Italian Renaissance variety who flutter in on gossamer wings and wear designer gowns. I mean real angels. Those beings who show up in our lives without explanation and seemingly at exactly the right moment. Who says they need harps, halos, and designer clothes?

An angel is any being who acts as God’s messenger. And I can think of no greater message to share than our own experiences of hope. Hope is faith, but it is more than that. It is faith reaching out its hand into the darkness, whether that darkness be addiction, loneliness, despair, or the constant pressure of daily life.

As stewards of the world we are given, we are called to be God’s angels. When someone is reaching out in hope, we need to reach back in faith.

This Thanksgiving, make it your calling to be an angel to someone. Share with them your experience, strength and hope. Fulfill some of their basic needs: food, comfort, companionship.

The world needs hope and a lot more angels.

Dear God: Help me to share my experience, strength and hope.

“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.” ~Anne Lamott, American novelist and non-fiction writer (b1954)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by Deacon James E. Carper, Director of Marketing and Development at Holy Name of Jesus School in south/central Los Angeles. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Coincidence? I think not!

“It was amazing how you could get so far from where you'd planned, and yet find it was exactly were you needed to be.” Sarah Dessen, American writer (b1970)

A series of remarkable events led me to this moment in time. Some would call it coincidence, but the series of “happenings” seemed too intentional to be coincidence.

It was Wednesday morning and I was seated in the Deacon’s Chair next to the Pastor, Father Paul, who was presiding at the Mass. I had met Father Paul 2-3 years earlier when he had sought my advice on introducing stewardship to his parish.

His parish, Holy Name of Jesus Church, is a heavily-interracial parish in south/central Los Angeles at the corner of Jefferson and Arlington. I was assisting at the Mass for the 6^th through 8^th graders from the elementary school attached to the parish.

We had just sat down following the opening rite. I cast a quick glance at Father Paul to make sure he was settled. It was then that my eye fell upon the huge stained glass window overlooking the altar from a side apse. The image of St. Peter Claver compassionately staring down at a slave he was blessing triggered a recollection of the events of the past two and a half weeks.

Less than three weeks earlier, I received a kind but hurried call advising me that once again I had been the first runner-up to a job I thought was perfect for me. Fueled by frustration, I quickly jumped back onto the Web and resumed my job search.

Almost immediately I found a job opening at a church whose name was familiar, though at the time I didn’t realize why. Quickly I assembled the requisite documents and emailed them off. In less than a day, I received a return call from “Cathy.”

After asking some basic informational questions, she unexpectedly asked,  “Can you meet with me tomorrow.” My hopes sank for a moment. I had an important meeting already scheduled for the next day. “Where would you like to meet me?” I asked guardedly. “Well, I live in Pasadena, “she began. This time my heart leapt, because my meeting was in Pasadena. Our meeting was quickly arranged at a coffee shop just two blocks from the location of my other meeting.

The interview was for a position as a Director of Marketing and Development for an inner-city Catholic Elementary school. 95% of their graduates go on to college.  The intent is to attract more students, but to do so they need to raise the money to subsidize the school as well as other necessary expenses and improvements.

Cathy and I hit it off immediately. Oddly, we could not quite determine how my documents made it to Cathy in the first place, since it appeared I applied to a job web posting that did not exist. Just a coincidence we thought. 

After about an hour, Cathy announced she was going to recommend me to the next interview level. To my shock, one of the two interviewers in the next round was another person I knew – Julie.

Friday of the same week, I had the next interview, and by the end of the week in which I had applied, I managed to satisfactorily complete all but one of the required interviews. On Tuesday of the following week, I attended my final interview with Father Paul and the Principal, Marva. And I discovered at the interview that President of the Parents Advisory Board was also an acquaintance – Audrey.

The job offer was made on Wednesday, I accepted on Thursday, and I started work the following Tuesday.

On my first day, each class took a turn coming to visit me to welcome me. Each class brought hand-crafted cards. The outside doors of their classrooms displayed “Welcome, Deacon Jim” signs. I knew I was where I belonged.

A day later, I was serving at my first school Mass, and there was St Peter Claver watching over me. Why is that special you might ask? Well, he’s the Patron Saint of my home parish… Obviously he was checking in to make sure I was OK. Just a coincidence?

We are often quick to exclaim: “Wow, what a coincidence!” I have a friend, Mary, who always says: “Coincidence? I think not.” It’s her mantra, in fact.

For some reason, we are more willing to believe the world operates on some kind of chancy randomness –a series of cosmic rolls of the dice – rather than the more obvious conclusion that there is an ongoing intelligent design at work. carefully guided by a supreme power. There is a plan, and we are very much a part of that plan! 

By moving forward with faith that God has a plan in operation, we can often move from one encounter to the next almost effortlessly.  As stewards of this life God has given us, we come to accept the reasons for things are rarely readily-apparent, but the opportunities abound if we open our eyes to them. 

This does not mean we wait around for an inspiration or divine intervention.  Rather, we are called to make the best beginning we can.  The more we do, driven by love and not ego, the more we sense a direction. 

When we go with God’s flow, things just seem to happen miraculously. When, on the other hand, we think we have a better way…when we insist on having things our way, the green lights and blue skies sometimes fade and are replaced by blank walls and dead ends.

The Lord is making miracles all the time.  You are one of them. 

Dear God: Help me to live the life you have planned for me. 

“We aren’t just thrown on this earth like dice tossed across a table. We are lovingly placed here for a purpose. ~Charles Swindoll, American evangelical Christian pastor, author, educator and radio preacher (b1934)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Coming Alive!

“It’s faith in something and enthusiasm for something that makes a life worth living.” ~Oliver Wendell Holmes, American physician, poet, writer, humorist and Harvard professor (1809-1894)

(Adapted from a story told by Annie Griffiths, photographer for National Geographic)

Annie was looking out her bedroom window as the sun poked its head over eastern horizon. The tendrils of light it produced crept out over the plains. The day was perfect. It would be perfect for the pictures she intended to shoot today.

Still at the window, Annie was finishing her coffee when she heard a rumbling sound. At first it sounded like morning thunder, but it was too rhythmic and it was getting progressively louder.  She leaned out her window so she could look directly in the direction of the sound. Then she saw source of the amazing sound.

Over the crest of distant rise came a herd of perhaps twenty beautiful horses. Though they were coming at a full canter they seemed to glide effortlessly over the ground.

An instant later Annie grabbed her camera bag from the Queen Anne chair in her room. She shot down the stairs and out the door into the morning sunlight. She was headed for the pasture gate. Somehow she instinctively knew that’s where they were headed as well.

Arriving at the gate she slid the camera body from its bag and with smooth, practiced precision she twisted the appropriate lens into place. Annie quickly turned in the direction of the oncoming thunder of hooves and an instant later the herd cleared the brow of the last hill.

With effortless skill she began clicking off pictures in rapid succession. Turning and firing, turning and firing. She could have easily been in the gunfight at the OK Corral, instinctively turning, finding another perfectly composed image, then squeezing off a deadly accurate shot to capture it.

Finally, the horses came to a stop around the edges of the fence. Annie clicked off a few more pictures and then relaxed. Then a strange sensation came over her as if someone were watching her. She turned around. There, leaning against a fence, were four cowboys who had watched her photographic frenzy with mild amusement. One or two of them touched the brim of their hats. “Morning Ma’am,” they each said almost simultaneously.

Annie nodded and smiled back. Then the strange sensation returned. Though she had instinctively grabbed her camera bag, in her hurry to be at the right place at the right time, she had overlooked one other thing.

It was then that Annie realized she had forgotten to dress and was standing there in her underwear!

The great churchman and civil rights leader, Rev. Howard Thurman once said: “Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

When it comes to being stewards of our gifts of talent, each of us is uniquely gifted to help save the world. Each of us is truly one of a kind. This means we are vested with the responsibility to take the time to discern those talents and cultivate them.

Unfortunately, we often limit ourselves to “what is available.” We volunteer out of a sense of responsibility to our church, our community or some organization, and only when the opportunity presents itself, rather than out of a passionate response to the wonderful gift God has made of us.

Conversely, those of us who go looking for volunteers, usually solicit those who have the time, rather those who have the talent. We should be recruiting those who will “come alive” within a given ministry or volunteer opportunity.  People driven by the passion of doing what they love have an uncanny way of making the time for it.

Early in my career as a Deacon, a parishioner asked me to intercede with the Pastor regarding a new ministry he wanted to start. I dutifully made an appointment with the Pastor and started to make my case. Father smiled patiently and put up his hand. “I’ve already spoken with him,” he said. “If he really had the passion to start that ministry, he wouldn’t need to ask you to talk to me. If someone is truly passionate nothing will stop him.”

The world does need people who have come alive. Be passionate. Be so passionate, in fact, that you forget to put your pants on.

Dear Lord: Help me to come alive.

“Chase down your passion like it's the last bus of the night.” ~ Glade Byron Addams

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Depth of Character

“Life just seems so full of connections. Most of the time we don’t even pay attention to the depth of life. We only see flat surfaces.” ~ author unknown

 Nathan always arrived at the coffee emporium early.  There was a special spot, an inset in the wall, which created a kind of three-sided cubicle. And with an outlet nearby it was perfect. 

 

Every morning Nathan would slide one of the single tables into place, hook up his laptop, electronic notebook and Smartphone, order a double skinny latte, into which he poured three packs of sugar, then hunker down for the next three plus hours. The place even had free Wi-Fi.  In went his ear buds, and the world and its problems disappeared into oblivion.

Charlie, 70 years old and a widower, came to the coffee emporium everyday to read his newspaper. He could make coffee and read the paper at home, but the big old house was just too quiet now that Madeline was gone. He missed Maddy, and the bustle of the coffee shop took his mind off his loneliness.

For some time now he had been observing Nathan. The boy never seemed to talk to anyone. Heck, he never seemed to even look up from whatever it was he was doing! Charlie, on the other hand, talked to everyone. The “coffee girls” all knew him by name as well as did a number of the patrons.

Nathan noticed that the old guy in the cardigan sweater, seated at the small table by the window, seemed to be watching him.   He wondered who the old dude was. “He reads a newspaper for God’s sake!” he thought. “Who even does that anymore??? I can read any one of 100 papers from around the world anytime I want. Sheesh!”

To his surprise Nathan realized the “old guy” had risen from his seat and appeared to be coming toward. “Ahhh man, I hope he doesn’t come over here,” thought Nathan. “WHAT A DRAG!”

Charlie stopped in front of the young man’s table and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Charlie” he said, but the young man just stared at him. Then he realized Nathan still had “those things” in his ears. “Hi! I’m Charlie!” he said louder, extending his hand more emphatically.

Nathan plucked out his ear buds. “Nathan,” he responded. “Whaddya want?”

“Nothing, really; it’s just that I see you in here all the time and I thought I’d introduce myself.”

“Yeah, OK,” Nathan replied slowly replacing his ear buds. Then he stopped. “Why do you read a newspaper?” he asked pointedly. Charlie blinked in surprise. “Well,” he began, “every morning I check the Obituaries in section D and if my name’s not listed I figure I’m going to have a good day.”

Nathan didn’t get the joke, but Charlie took the opening. “Why do you hunker back here in the corner by yourself?” he asked with a genuine note of concern. “I’m multi-tasking,” Nathan replied curtly. Charlie thought for a moment. “Is that sort of doing a lot of different things all at once without paying attention to any one thing?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Nathan scowled, sticking one ear bud back in place.

“Would you like to borrow my paper?” Charlie asked.  “Seriously?” Nathan barked. “What would I want your newspaper for?”  “Maybe you’d like to check the weather?” Charlie offered.

“I can check the CURRENT weather anytime I need to…  In fact, I can check just about anything I want right from here…  See? Or anytime any place for that matter!”

“No need to get your boxers in a bunch,” Charlie answered calmly. “Just thought I’d make some conversation.” He started to turn back toward his table.

Nathan thought for a moment. “Wait a minute, come back a second.” Charlie turned to face him again. “Why did you really come over here?” Nathan asked pointedly.

“Truth be told?” Charlie began. “I never see you talking to anyone. You always seem distant, lonely.  I know how that feels.  I never see anybody sitting with you so I thought you might like someone to talk to for awhile.  But if you’re busy multi-whatevering,  I understand.”

Nathan’s screen had timed out and gone blank. It reminded him how empty he felt when he wasn’t busy filling the void in his life with electronic interference.  He closed the lid on the laptop and pulled out the one remaining ear bud. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?” Nathan said with a sigh of what seemed like relief.

“First, let me buy you a cup of coffee,” Charlie replied with a smile. “You drink one of those Latte things don’t you?”

Contrary to popular belief, “we are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” (Pierre Teilhard de Chardin). But there is much in our lives which distracts us from “being” the spiritual beings we really are.

The electronic devices which make our communication so simple and efficient are a great gift, but they can also become a dangerous narcotic. While they allow us to do many things at once, they can also cause us to be inattentive to more than one thing at once. (And perhaps, even inconsiderate of more than one person at once.)  So much so that we can become inattentive to our lives and the lives of others. We find ourselves skittering along the surface of life rather than diving into it, plumbing its depths.

In order to live deeply, we must acknowledge that our life is “grace-filled.”  There is often much love and wisdom in the world resident in people like Charlie. Do we take the time to see the grace in others and share the grace within ourselves?

We must also come to the realization that no matter how much we have or how much we accomplish, power, prestige and possessions will never give us the satisfaction we desire.  Ego is an insatiable beast. It tortures us by only giving us glimpses of happiness.

If we are to become stewards of our own lives, we must, like Nathan, be willing to change. We must embark intentionally on our own journey of faith. This will mean taking time daily to plumb the depths of our spirituality and bring our new found realizations into our everyday life.  The first step is to be willing to take the first step. Like Charlie, there are many spirit guides out there, waiting and wanting to help.

Dear God: Remind me that life is sometimes like a glass of chocolate milk. The sweet stuff is often at the bottom.

“It is easier to perceive error than to find truth, for the former lies on the surface and is easily seen, while the latter lies in the depth, where few are willing to search for it.” ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German playwright, poet, novelist and dramatist (1749-1832).

Connect with me: www.linkedin.com/pub/deacon-jim-carper/4/3b1/901 Twitter: @DeaconJimCarper

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by Deacon James E. Carper of Simi Valley, California. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Doin God's Work

“God is a good worker but loves to be helped.” ~ Basque Proverb

It had been a “rollercoaster ride” of a day. Fridays were always hectic. But this one had gotten off to a less than auspicious start. Out of work, and looking for a job for the past six months, I had finally made it to the “final three.” Interviews for the top three candidates had been held on the previous Thursday.

Leaving the building afterwards, I felt I had nailed the interview. But after waiting tensely for over a week, the call came that morning as I was leaving the house. “We so much enjoyed interviewing you, but we found a candidate whose skills were more closely aligned with what we were looking for,” said the chirpy voice.

I thanked her graciously, clicked off, and headed for my parish to serve at morning Mass ­– still unemployed. Fridays are my day to give the homily and this Friday was no different.

As I was greeting in the narthex after Mass, a group of teenage voices started to sing a familiar tune. I turned to find 20-plus teenagers singing Happy Birthday… to me! My birthday had been earlier in the week, but it didn’t matter; here they were singing to me.
Afterwards, I ducked into the sacristy.

Removing my vestments and slipping into my jacket, I headed out the door to my little, old, pickup truck. Fridays are also the day I do a prayer service and visit with residents at the senior care center near the parish.

My cell phone blinged as I was climbing into the truck. Quickly checking the screen, I instantly recognized the name of the sender. Her Dad, an old friend of mine, had died in the spring.

Clicking open the email, I read a heartfelt text thanking me for a blog post I had sent at 5:00 am that morning: “Your writing reminded me that I need to remember the great times we had while he was here” it read. 

Tossing the phone onto the passenger’s seat, I pulled my keys from my pocket. The truck reluctantly came to life as I turned the key in the ignition. I rolled out of the parking lot and headed for the senior facility.

Once there, I conducted a Communion service. One of the attendees came with her dog. She wasn’t Catholic, but she likes to participate. I blessed her (and her dog) anyway.

During my room-to room-visits, a man shared with me that he had been diagnosed with cancer and probably had less than four months to live. I sat and listened to him as he talked about his life.

At 11:15 am, my rounds completed, I was sitting in the activities coordinator’s office. Flo asked how things were going. I quickly recapped the events of the day including the early morning phone call. “I just wish I could find a job” I concluded. 

“Deacon Jim,” she replied with a smile, “Sounds to me like you are employed. You’re just not getting paid for it.”

Someone once wrote that “if you want to make God smile, tell him your plans.” Many of us go through life allowing our work, our occupations, our careers to define who we are. In doing so, we surrender ourselves to the whims of the world. We may even go so far as to say we are looking for “meaningful work.”

But, when those jobs go away, we can be left wondering who we are and doubting our self worth. Careers are a slippery slope because, sooner or later, they end. And whatever gratification they provide, ends with them.

As Christian stewards we hold a different view. God created each of us with a unique combination of gifts to be used to better the world. We are called to identify, cultivate, and utilize those gifts.

Careers can temporarily fulfill our egos, but doing God’s work can fill our hearts and our spirits. Doing what God created us to do rarely fails to give us satisfaction and a sense of purpose.

Certainly, jobs are necessary to provide material sustenance, but sustaining our spirits is even more important. God doesn’t pay us in cash though we often wish he would, but you can’t beat his retirement plan!

Dear God: Thy will be done – even when I don’t like the job description.
 

“All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, American essayist, lecturer, and poet (1803-1882)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by Deacon James E. Carper of Simi Valley, California. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.