Sunday, March 24, 2013

Turn It Over!


“All of you will have your faith shaken…” ~Mark 14:27

During the last 24 hours of his physical life on earth, Jesus had many encounters with many different people. We will also meet a lot of people and do a lot of things this coming week.

As we enter Holy Week, we might find it helpful to ask ourselves, “Where will I meet Christ this week? Will I encounter Christ at a quiet reflective dinner with friends, or will I meet him when a close friend or coworker betrays my trust?

Perhaps I will meet Christ while praying in a quiet garden or some other contemplative place; Or perhaps when I am confronted by angry, judgmental people. 

Will I encounter Christ when I am judged by others because of my race, nationality, religion, age, sexual orientation, opinions, physical appearance or even the way I dress? Will I realize Christ’s presence whether people are cheering with me or jeering at me?

Will I meet Christ in the friend who tells me what I don’t want to hear, but need to hear? Or will I hope to find Christ in the person who only tells me what I want to hear for their own personal benefit?

Will I find him when I am with my family and friends, or when I am abandoned by all of them?

At the end of the week, will I drag my cross, laden with problems, resentments, disappointments, failures, personal tragedies, shame and unhappiness, to the top of a hill, and find that the only person there willing to help is Christ?

In that moment, in that encounter, he will smile and say, “Let me take that from you. I can handle it.”

Have a Blessed Holy Week.

“I got this Jesus tattoo on my wrist when I was 18 because I know that it’s always going to be part of me. When I’m playing, it’s staring right back at me, saying, ‘Remember where you came from.’” ~Katy Perry, American recording artist, songwriter, and actress (b 1984)

©2013 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Wake Up Call!


“We have no scar to show for happiness.” ~Chuck Palahniuk, American novelist and free-lance journalist (b. 1962)

Nicholas had lost all sense of purpose. He was a full-blown participant in the proverbial rat-race of life – and the rats were winning. The nice car, the beautiful home in the upscale neighborhood (with the “appropriate” address), the corner office with his name on the door, and all the other trappings of a successful lifestyle had only left him wanting more.

None of it brought him the satisfaction he desired. Nicholas wondered if it had ever brought him any satisfaction. “It’s like drugs,” he thought. “The more I have the more I need.”

Lately, even his wife and kids had become an annoyance. The only satisfaction he found was from his computer. He spent hours in social media sites. When he wasn’t posting, blogging, or tweeting he found himself straying into sites where he knew he shouldn’t be. It had started out innocently enough, but it had been gradually escalating.

Of late, Melissa, Nick’s wife, had been complaining that he hadn’t been spending enough time with her and their two daughters. “You’re never home,” she observed one evening. “And when you are home, you’re camped out in front of that computer of yours. I’m beginning to wonder if you have an on-line girlfriend or something.” Her last comment made Nicholas shudder because he’d recently been wondering about those kinds of sites as well.

At a friend’s suggestion, Nicholas begun seeing a counselor. Dr. Samuel was older than dirt, or so it seemed to Nicholas. The old man rarely spoke. Rather, he simply sat in his ancient leather chair, a yellow legal pad in his lap and a blue Bic pen in his hand, nodding slowly.

When he did speak it was only to ask a question. “Why do you think that is?” he would ask. Or, “Why do you think you feel that way?” And with each answer he would simply nod. It was becoming irritating!

Today was Nicholas’ fourth session with Dr. Samuel and he was not going to let him get away with just nodding for an hour. Nicholas was going to get to the bottom of what was wrong with his life. He needed to fix whatever was broken!

Nicholas was seated on the couch next to the box of tissues which always seemed to be there. Dr. Samuel settled himself into his chair. He made a quick notation on the tablet, then peered over his wire-rimmed glasses at Nicholas. “So Nick, how’s your week going so far?” (“He always starts this way,” Nicholas thought to himself).

For the next 45 minutes, he regaled the Doctor with every slight he had suffered and every irritation he had endured. “What’s the point?” he concluded. “I’m never going to be happy.”  There was a long moment of deafening silence. “Why do you say that?” replied the old doctor finally.

Nicholas exploded! “What the hell am I paying you for? I can get a recording of your voice for all the good your doing me and for a lot less money! If you’re really a counselor, you need to start counseling or I’m outa here!”

Dr. Samuel waited patiently for Nicholas to finish his diatribe. He set his tablet and pen aside and folded his old, leathery hands in his lap. “Nick, there is a big difference between advice and counseling.  Advice means telling you what you should do. Counseling is helping you find out why you are who you are. I’m a counselor, not an advisor. That’s why you pay me what you pay me.  To counsel you.”

Silence returned, except for the “tock, tock, tock” of old pendulum clock on the wall. Dr. Samuel’s could tell his answer had not satisfied Nicholas in the least. “If it’s advice you want, I’ll give you some advice. Is that what want?” After a long pause Nicholas nodded assent.
Dr. Samuels paused and wet his lips. “You need to wake up. You are asleep and you need to wake up, before death wakes you up.”

With that the wise old man picked up his tablet and pen. “Now, shall we continue?”

There is a difference living successfully and a successful life. Most of us measure success by upward mobility and the acquisition of possessions. If I am progressing socially upward and can purchase the things I want, then I should be happy.  When we rely on possessions and status to make us happy, however, the only way we can continue to be happy is by continuing to raise our status and/or by buying more and better things.

Possessions are not the problem though. But for some of us, they are the symptom of a much deeper problem. Happiness does not come from getting what we want, but from wanting what we have.

Many of us go through life suffering from a kind of spiritual death. Often it takes an encounter with physical death to remind us that all glory is fleeting and all possessions eventually turn to dust. Joy comes from within and is always within our immediate grasp.

This was the “advice” Dr. Samuel gave Nicholas. Wake up to the joy within you. Otherwise, you won’t realize what is really important until you face physical death.

Dear God: Help me to wake up – now!

“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”  ~Albert Camus, French author, journalist and philosopher (1913-1960)

©2013 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Certain Doubt


"You can only apprehend the Infinite by a faculty that is superior to reason." ~ Plotinus, Mafor philosopher of the ancient world (204/50-270 CE)

“That just can’t be true!” Elias rocked back in his seat and folded his arms in disbelief. His college biology professor, Dr Hosea, peered at him over his dark, horn-rimmed glasses. “Why can’t it be true?” the wizen old professor asked. “This is the 21st century!” Elias shot back. “How can you say we don’t know where babies come from?”

Dr. Hosea smiled to himself. “I never said we didn’t know where babies come from. I said, we didn’t know what caused them to be born.” The professor secretly liked his sometimes impulsive student. His agile mind and quick-wittedness reminded Dr. Hosea of when he was a young biology student. But the boy’s edginess could also be irritating at times.

He scanned the rest of the class. “It’s two o’clock. We’ll resume again on Thursday,” he announced. “Don’t forget that your projects are due. Elias, could you stop on your way out?”

Elias slung his backpack over his shoulder and sauntered up to Dr. Hosea. “What’s up, Professor?” he asked casually. “Mostly everything,” the professor replied as he placed his notes in his briefcase. Elias didn’t get the joke.

The professor snapped his briefcase shut and set it upright on the desk. “Elias, you are a bright young man and will probably make a pretty good research scientist someday.” This sudden observation by “the Prof” caught Elias off-guard. “But to accomplish that, you need to work on your thinking processes; otherwise you will be perennially frustrated.”

The young man tried to interject a comment but Dr. Hosea pressed on. “All of us are aware from whence babies come. We also know that the birthing process is caused by a hormone which is released into the mother’s system which triggers labor. What we don’t know is how the brain knows when to tell the body to excrete the hormone. In other words, how does the brain know the baby is ready to be born?”

“Well, thanks for that clarification,” Elias responded as he adjusted his backpack and headed for the door.

“That’s not my point.” Dr. Hosea said quickly, stopping Elias with his words. Elias turned to face the old man once more. “What is the point?” he asked impatiently.

“The point is, if you are going to be a first-rate researcher, you are going to have to learn to embrace uncertainty.” There was a glint in the old man’s eye. “Seriously?” Elias shot back. “Science is about certainty, not uncertainty!”

Au contraire, it is uncertainty which keeps us in business. The more unanswered questions we have, the better off we are. Uncertainty is not our enemy; it is our ally. If you are going to be a great researcher, you must learn not only to embrace uncertainty, but to welcome it.”

Elias wondered if he had unwittingly stumbled into Philosophy 101. Maybe his old professor had finally gone “round the bend,” mentally speaking. “I thought it was the scientist’s job to eliminate questions and uncertainty. If I am to embrace them as you say, what do I rely on?”

Without a word Dr. Hosea picked up his battered old briefcase and headed for the door. At the doorway, he stopped and turned to face Elias. “What do you rely on when you have more questions than answers? Faith, my boy! Rely on faith!” With that, he disappeared out the door, leaving behind a perplexed Elias wondering what he meant.

The Letter to the Hebrews describes faith as “the evidence of things unseen” (Hebrews 11:1). Science and religion are often seen as being at odds with one another. Science relies on what can be proven, measured, tested and observed. Faith, on the other hand, relies on none of these things.

We can offer explanations of why we have faith in an unseen entity we refer to as “God,” but empirical proof of this entity is sparse, if not non-existent. As the writer of Hebrews puts it, our evidence that God exists is our faith in this unseen God.

Ironically, those of us who have faith in a supreme being often don’t seem to tolerate uncertainty very well. When unanswered questions arise, we are quick to employ literal interpretations of scripture or church law. Historically, the result of this approach has been the justification of atrocities such as slavery and the subjugation of women.

Science, on the other hand, approaches unanswered questions with relish. They are seen as opportunities to grow, rather than distractions which must be quickly dispatched.

Uncertainty is not a threat to faith. Christians, like scientists should also see questions and uncertainty as opportunities for growth – as a means of deepening our faith.

Dr. Hosea’s response to Elias is prophetic. “The more unanswered questions we have, the better off we are. Uncertainty is not our enemy, it is our ally. If [we] are going to be a [great Christian we] must learn, not only to embrace uncertainty, but to welcome it.”

Dear God: Help me to be satisfied with the things I know and the things I don’t know.

“In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't.” ~Blaise Pascal, French mathematician, physicist, inventor, writer and Christian philosopher (1623-1662)

©2013 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Gifted and Called


The human contribution is the essential ingredient. It is only in the giving of oneself to others that we truly live. ~ Ethel Percy Andrus, long-time educator and the first woman high school principal in California (1884-1967)

Brother Bartholomew was finishing his lecture on reconciliation when he noticed Peter John, staring out the window. The sun, which shone through the window, gave his face an angelic quality. But Peter John DeAngelo was anything but angelic.

“Can you recite an act of contrition, Peter John?” he asked sharply. Peter John looked at Brother Bartholomew for a moment. “I wasn't aware there was a play named ‘Contrition,’” he responded, gazing out the window once more.

The class giggled, but Brother Bartholomew silenced them with a look. “Have you heard anything I've said today, young man?” This time Peter John didn't bother to look away from the window. “How is an ‘act of contrition’ or ‘reconciliation’ or anything else you've said today going to help me be successful? It all sounds like a bunch of hocus pocus to me.”

Brother Bartholomew’s bushy gray eyebrows arched sharply at this last comment. “Come with me!” he snapped motioning toward the door. “We’ll see if a visit to Mr. Chuska’s office will get your attention.”

This wasn't the first time Peter John had spent an afternoon in the Principal’s office. Unfortunately he had become a fixture there of late. He seemed almost manic-depressive. At times he could be extremely creative and insightful, but at other times he was bored, unmotivated, and even snarky.

His trips to the principal’s office had become more frequent recently, however, and Mr. Chuska was considering a two day suspension if things didn’t straighten out soon.

Father Dolan appeared in the outer doorway. Father Patrick Dolan was a spry cleric in his early 60’s. He was effervescently happy and perennially positive. Bidding a cheery “good afternoon,” to Miss Wickham, the secretary, he headed straight for Mr. Chuska’s open door.

Catching sight of Peter John, he paused for a moment in front of the boy. “Have you taken up residence here?” he asked with a broad smile. Peter John responded by fiddling with his hands. “You spend much more time here, they’ll be given’ you a desk and puttin’ ya to work.” Still no response. Father Dolan paused another moment, then continued to the Principal’s office.

“Anthony Chuska! As I live and breathe!” Father Dolan nearly shouted as he entered. Mr. Chuska didn’t even look up. “What do you want, Patrick?” he replied. “Now is that any way to greet your chaplain?” Dolan chirped.

Mr. Chuska looked up from his work. Pushing his glasses into place and crossing his hands over the papers in front of him, he stared at Father Dolan. “I am very busy; how can I help you today?” he said with a forced smile.

“That’s much better Anthony. I’m glad you asked. I need a volunteer or two to help me in the sacristy for about an hour.”

“Sorry, Patrick,” Mr. Chuska responded, returning to his work. “It’s the end of the semester and most of the students are full up on service hours.” “What about the fine young man in the front office?” Dolan fired back quickly. “Who, you mean DeAngelo?” “I’m filling out the paperwork to suspend him for two days right now.”

“Why don’t you let me save you the trouble of suspending the boy and let him work for me for a couple-a-hours instead? You can always suspend him tomorrow, if ya like.”

Mr. Chuska stopped writing and thought for a moment. He looked up and steepling his hands he smiled insincerely. “OK, Patrick, he’s all yours; but if he doesn't straighten out, it may end up being a lot more than a two-day suspension.” He spoke this last phrase loudly enough for Peter John to hear.

“Thank you, Anthony!” Father Patrick said with a grin and out the door he went before Mr. Chuska could respond.

Father Patrick returned to the front office. “Mr. DeAngelo?” he said with a grin. “I need an assistant this afternoon and you’re just the man for the job!” “What do I have to do?” Peter John asked. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’ll show you when you get there, and you can decide for yourself.”

Peter John and two other boys who had been dubbed “disciplinary problems” helped Father Patrick in the Church, Sacristy, and Parish Office every other Friday for the rest of their time in school. Peter John went on to graduate with honors and later graduated from college.

Years later, at a class reunion, Miss Wickham asked Peter John what it was that Father Patrick did that seemed to turn troubled students around. Peter John looked at her thoughtfully. “Most people in school tell you what they think you need to know. Father asked us what we thought and what we wanted to know.”

I have often thought that the term “volunteer” should be stricken from church vocabulary.  The word “volunteer” implies a very one-sided relationship. It suggests that the impetus for sharing one’s gifts of time and talent rests solely with the person who possesses those gifts. But It is really a two sided relationship. Jesus called His disciples, and we too have a responsibility to call (invite) others into service.

Calling people into service accomplishes two very important things. It is both a way of recognizing the value of others and a way of validating their gifts for them. It is also a very effective way of developing more helpers for parish projects and ministries.

The Father Patricks of the world know that it is not about relying on the same people over and over again. There are many “diamonds in the rough.” It is about calling people forth – calling them into service, even when they seem to be the most unlikely candidates.

Dear God: Help me to be like Jesus and to look for help from the most unlikely people.

“There are two ways of spreading light - to be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it.”  ~Edith Wharton, Pulitzer Prize-winning American novelist, short story writer, and designer (1862-1937)

©2013 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.