The Dangers of God's Grace

Since middle-school, I had been very fond of swimming, particularly racing. I prided myself on being the fastest free-style and backstroke swimmer on the team, and winning first place in races was a common occurrence. One meet, however, the coaches had signed me up for my usual free-style and backstroke events, but also on my list of race events was the butterfly stroke race. This was a problem: I had never swam butterfly.

Sure, we had done some practice with it, but I never possessed the proper coordination to make it more than a few meters before I was doggie-paddling. I approached the starting blocks, shaken with fear of not only losing the race, but possibly not even finishing. Silently, I prayed to God that I should at least finish the race, let alone not drown in my attempt.

I not only finished, but I earned first place. It's difficult to convince anyone that the occurrence of this result was a miracle, but to me, it's profoundly clear that it was. Whatever grace I received was accompanied by the unsettling fear of failure before and a consequently very sore and worn-out body afterwards. In this instance, God's grace had been a painful experience.

"The Calling of the Apostles Peter and Andrew"
by Duccio di Buoninsegna

Today's gospel provides Luke's account of the first meeting between Christ and Peter. A few weeks ago, I published a post on the struggle with habitual sin and proper contrition for them, and I cited the example of Peter's initial encounter with Christ in the gospel of Luke. They meet on the shores of the Sea of Galilee and Christ instructs Peter to cast out to open water and lower his nets. Peter, having caught nothing at night, remained doubtful with the success of this course of action, but he acquiesced anyway. Once the nets had been lowered, the catch of fish was so great that their nets began to tear and even with the help of a second boat, they were both in danger of sinking.

First, receiving God's grace only takes a simple "yes". Peter's dubious "yes" led to an incredible catch of fish. Mary's simple, yet perfect "yes" opened her to the conception of the very Son of God. On the mountain, the young boy's "yes" to providing the few loaves and the fishes he possessed led to the feeding of five thousand people with some to spare. Our gifts may be small, but in cooperation with God, miracles become possible. Most people have heard of this aspect of God's grace (or have experienced it for themselves). It is definitely a wonderful blessing to realize this and acknowledge it in our lives.

However, what you don't hear is that sometimes, God's grace may nearly kill us with its intensity. In the today's second reading, Paul refers to his conversion story of being cast off his horse simply at the sound of Christ's voice, and in the Gospel, Peter and his fellow fishermen nearly drowned as a result of an incredible catch of fish. In both circumstances, God's grace manifested itself in violent, threatening ways. These accounts challenge a common notion that God's grace is always quiet or subtle because sometimes, the furious power of God's grace comes to us in these "life(style)-threatening" situations.

Focusing on the Gospel account, the fishermen's nets were tearing, the boat was capsizing, and the human help of the second boat could not even alleviate the sheer enormity of God's grace. Similarly when we encounter His grace, the nets of our vices will be torn through and our lives, it seems, will be in danger of sinking and drowning. The manner in which we have allowed ourselves to just "float" through life will be shaken to such a degree that in order to be set right, we will be confronted with the reality of that very real danger of death to our lifestyles, If we're open to it, God's dangerous graces will "kill us", but our death will be a "death to self" and our rebirth will be in His divine love. Our sins and depravities will be put to death and all that will remain is our charity. 

"The Conversion of St. Paul" by Francesco Mazzola

So why is God's grace sometimes so violent in this fashion? Grace must necessarily purify us. In today's first reading, Isaiah had a hot coal placed on his mouth. In the second reading, St. Paul was cast from his horse and blinded. In the Gospel, Peter's physical strength fails him and even with the help of his companions, he is filled with fear of a drowning death. Each of these men were flawed and each received the cleansing gift of God's grace. However, just as Purgatory prepares us to see God face to face by a painful purification, God's grace to these sinful men is so great that in their fallen nature, they perceive it to be painful. To eyes that have never seen the sunlight, even the slightest ray of sunshine is blindingly painful, but once the eyes become accustomed to the goodness of the illumination around them, they rejoice at that purifying grace which was once excruciating.

How often do we allow ourselves to experience this fearful level of grace in our lives? Do we shirk away from it for fear of braving the danger to our lifestyles? There is a significant amount of dying-to-oneself that we all need to do in our lives, and if we avoid this death, we will always be devoid of God's greatest graces and blessings. But if we are open to that painfully purifying grace in our daily lives, we are given a blessed opportunity to suffer with the Suffering Servant, the Crucified Christ.

The Lost World of Children

"BOYS! Look away!" my mother said, sternly.

Immediately, I obediently scrunched my eyes shut and turned my face to my skinny, boyish legs. I wasn't missing anything important, my mom would always tell me. Sometimes, I would become curious and try to catch a glimpse, but Mom would have none of it. She made sure that each of the boys had their eyes shut and faces turned away.

A brief moment later, the passionate kiss between the film's main characters had ended, and I was allowed to resume watching.

A kiss? Seriously? Were you home-schooled or something? That's nothing compared to the other stuff out there!

Yes, it was just a mildly zealous kiss between a man and a woman, but I thank God every day for the first woman who taught me to value affection and guard my heart. It's true, I have not always been good at it. I have never stopped trying though, hoping one day to return to that childlike innocence.

Can one reclaim that innocence that we sacrifice over age and experience? In Genesis, Adam and Eve ate of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. They did so willingly because their pride directed them to challenge the only restriction that God placed upon them.* So after their sin, could Adam and Eve re-enter the Garden of Eden? Could they return to the paradise of blissful innocence? No, they could not, and because of original sin, neither can we. There is no going back, and what is gone is gone now for good.

Last weekend at Mass was Scout's week, and before the Final Blessing, the pastor distributed a good Christian award to 15 young Cub Scouts for completing the merit requirements. The boys, no older than 10 years old, processed from their pew towards the front to the side of the sanctuary, but as they did, I noticed that the last boy was wearing jeans that had the pant hem ending awkwardly right above is skinny ankles. No doubt, the poor kid was beginning to hit his growth spurt. And at that instant, my heart wept for him.

In his innocence, he was oblivious to what lay ahead of him. He has no idea that in a short time, his boyish heart will be violated and assaulted by a cruel society, intent on stealing that precious gift. It will be gone forever, and if he values virtue, he will weep for this loss as I do. In that moment, I made a quiet, but urgent prayer for the safety of their hearts, now and in the future. I prayed that they might desire to become virtuous and upstanding men and that this award might be the first step in that direction.

And it's not just for boys that I worry about: I worry for the girls. They will be abused, objectified and disrespected to a degree lower than animals. Any semblance of integrity will be challenged and lost in the hormone-driven high school and college years by the "skin race", an escalation of how much they can bare for a boy's hungry eyes. A frightening thing is that most girls never realize this, but the most disturbing thing is that even if they realize it, they may never have the courage to reclaim their dignity and restore their innocence.

However, I do not believe all is lost with the departure of childlike innocence. St. John in the Book of Revelations writes:

"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling of God is with men. He will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away." And he who sat upon the throne said, "Behold, I make all things new." (Revelation 21:3-5).

Christ has taken what was, and he has fulfilled it and glorified it. He took a human body, made filthy and a vehicle for immorality by Man, and glorified it in the Resurrection. He took on a human heart, made bitter and selfish by Man’s sin, and glorified it, making it an eternal model of perfect charity. Christ makes these things, and all things new and better. Therefore, it is Christ who has made our innocence new.

With that statement, two things are important to realize. First, this is not something we can do alone, for Christ works on this through us. This innocence is a unmerited gift that God gives to those who are open to receiving it. Therefore, its attainment is not directly related to any effort that I make to achieve it; rather, my effort to remain in God’s holy grace and foster a real relationship with Christ is what will open me to this gift.

Second, because our childlike innocence is made new and glorified by our struggle, it is better than the innocence of the child. Just as the resurrected body is more perfect than our sinful body, the glorified innocence renewed by Christ is more perfect than that given to Adam and Eve in Eden. This is because we have chosen it for ourselves and the longevity of this resolution, through struggle and toil, confirms this choice with greater glory and rewards, both temporal and eternal.

It will always be a challenge to every man, young or old, to seek and find that holy innocence renewed by Christ, but once discovered, it will chase away our fears, replaced by a lasting peace that we will carry with us  until our deaths and into Eternal Glory.

Schedule Killed the Action/Adventure Star

I use Google Calendar every day. It's incredibly handy and helpful, and all my appointments and events are on there. With alerts, I can be reminded of events that I might otherwise forget. I have separate calendars for my different kinds of events (birthdays, fitness training, etc.) The plethora of different views allows me to see my schedule in any way I might (or might never) want.

I hate Google Calendar. And any kind of calendar/schedule-maker that is easy to use. If it's easy to use, people will use it, and with calendars and schedule-makers, that just won't do.

The Face of Boredom

When you have a schedule, you subtly believe you know what is going to happen during your day. You set the events of your day and you move from one appointment to the next, one task to the next, and one pre-planned moment to the next. It's true that society could hardly function without schedules, but it's just a cultural symptom of our obsession with productivity and efficiency.

This is bad for two reasons: First, because your day is "planned", nothing new or exciting can happen. You know the sequence of events (in fact, you have determined most of them). You become the ultimate master of your own destiny and therefore, there are no surprises.

Second reason: how mind-numbingly boring is that? The chief problem afflicting our culture today is not poverty, hunger, or filthy interstate rest stops... it's boredom. When we use a schedule to line up every minute detail of their days, weeks, years, and lives, we perpetuate this heinous evil and rob ourselves of engaging stimulation.

Maybe each day feels the same because they ARE the same.
"Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today."

For most people with schedules, each day feels exactly the same. It's like you know what's going to happen tomorrow. In corporate America, a select few people have truly exciting jobs, but for the rest of us, it can be a drudge. If you're expecting  the same unexciting day as yesterday, what are you looking forward to? Tomorrow will come and go, and you might ask yourself why do you really care?

Maybe we like schedules to feel in control of our lives. In an effort to be certain of as many things as possible, we plan our lives as a sequence of calender events and appointment invites. It's like giving someone a wrapped gift that you picked out. They may have no idea what's inside, but you do. For that reason, there is no surprise for you. Imagine always giving people wrapped gifts and never receiving one yourself.

What is this ultimately taking a toll on? Reliance on schedules negatively affects our ability to be spontaneous and adventurous that romantically invaluable skill. Imagination is the heart and soul of spontaneity. A common error is to believe that one must be erratic or impulsive to be spontaneous. However, it is imagination that gives the human soul the agility to be spontaneous. But there are few things that kill imagination, and consequently spontaneity, more than pre-planning your life and relying on rigid structures. Consequently, we become slaves to our schedules, both self-imposed and imposed from the outside.

Spontaneity also has a profound influence on one's courage. When an unexpected opportunity or challenge arrives, our ability to rise to it will be diminished, just because it does not fit into whatever we expected. Life is meant for action, and courage is what enables us to take appropriate action in any circumstance. Without courage, we miss out on life's rewards. Life is not always pre-canned or predetermined, and the most critical moments in life are usually those ones that are not planned or expected. Most of us don't need to chase after tanks on horseback or stop an alien invasion or escape from an island of genetically-engineer dinosaurs to satisfy our spirit of adventure and test our courage (if you do, you might be a fictional character), but that courage and adventurousness needs to be reclaimed.

Seize the moment. Push yourself to heroics. Do not settle for blindly following the established order, and do not be afraid to throw the schedule out and blaze your own trail!

I'll bet Indiana Jones didn't schedule this... and he turned out just fine.