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.

The Going-Away Party

Maxwell had killed his sister. It was a pretty efficient murder at that; and Sir Maxwell Stewart prided himself on efficiency, whether it was with closing a business deal or doing away with nosy siblings. Although, the business deals were a significantly more common occurrence than the occasions that required the snuffing of relatives.

It had been efficient because she had consumed enough wine at his going away party that she did not feel the slight pin-prick of a syringe as it injected its lethal payload of insulin. Maxwell was a diabetic and his sister was not. The overdose had quietly put her to sleep on the sofa of the mansion's parlor. It did not take much.

The silent killing was also an excellent method of murder because it left no crime scene clues, should the body ever be found. There were no lacerations, no stab wounds, no bullet holes, no broken bones, or anything else of the gory and ghastly sort typically associated with the dark deed. She was indeed very old and by all appearances, it would seem that her poor, ailing heart had simply given out and her soul had flown to the heights of that holy Paradise.

Maxwell knew that it was her blood sugar, not her heart, that gave out, and that her soul was actually rotting in the circle of Hell reserved exclusively for prying, gossipy nannies. She had invented this grand conspiracy theory that his business empire was somehow built on lies and cheating, all claims were woefully unsubstantiated, of course. Doubtless she had concocted this inconceivable foolishness to tarnish his sterling reputation and ruin his going-away party. Maxwell had tolerated his sister's ignorance on a variety of other subjects, but it seemed to him hardly fair that he should suffer her vague fantasies of corruption and sleight-of-hand dealings when his good name was at stake.

However, his reputation was the furthest thing from his mind when this cake knife in his chest was the closest thing to his heart. James Ironsides, his American business rival, had put it there. Just like his business manners, Ironsides had no tact: no silent poisons or macabre premeditation. He just walks right up to you and plunges the cake knife unpretentiously into your chest. He did not even have the decency to wipe the icing from the blade.

Anyhow, things were beginning to feel very cold for Sir Maxwell. He could not tell if it was the two feet of snow in which he was lying or the icy caress of death stealing over him. Whichever the case, he was alone. Ironsides had not even had the decorum to gloat over his dying form. He could have at least thanked him for inviting him to the party, yes, thank you it truly is marvelous, is this wine a special vintage? of course, most excellent, are you finished with that cake knife? here Maxwell, let me pin this thank you note to your blazer with this cake knife, comfortable? well, I must be going, lovely party, let's do this again sometime.

But it was not so, and Maxwell felt the chill of his fate long before he arrived at that frozen circle of Hell reserved exclusively for dishonest, sibling-murdering businessmen.

Fight to the Death

A few days ago, I watch the 2012 film, "The Grey", starring Liam Neeson and directed by Joe Carnahan ("The A-Team"). It's the story of a former special forces soldier, now working for oil pipeline company in Alaska/Canada, whose plane crashes in that region leaving only him and a few others as survivors. Together, they must brave the cold, the hunger, and the pack of nearby ravenous wolves that seek to pick the off, one at a time. A quick glance at the synopsis might not interest you immensely (it didn't interest me), but upon seeing the film, it felt more like a horror-thriller film than a boring "Cast Away" survival film. It was a very frightening film, but one, I believe, that offers a happy, through realistic ending with an emotional soundtrack and stunning snow-capped, evergreen visuals to match.

I do not usually cry during films (why should I? I'm a man). I used to just get caught up in the moment of "wow, this is an awesome scene!" and that was the extent of my excitement. But there are a few elements of cinema that, if properly portrayed, bring free-flowing tears to my eyes. One element of which is the notion of fighting to the death. I will not explain exactly how this relates to "The Grey", because I hope that this post will convince you to see an amazing film without giving any revealing details.

A number of films exist in which the "fight to the death" theme exists. A few that spring to mind include "The Lord of the Rings", "Henry V", "Gladiator", "Cinderella Man", and, though no actual fighting occurs, "The Passion of the Christ". It is a concept that is nonexistent in our society because we are so obsessed with immortality and preserving our own lives. The American culture is obsessed with extending life by whatever means necessary. Acceptance of death is considered a disastrous defeat. No matter what the challenge, there is always the hope that there will be a way that we can defeat the threat and still live at the end of it. There has to be a way that we can achieve a "happily ever after" ending where everyone lives, right?

Death comes for us all. Ready or not, it comes for us. People are afraid of death because they do not know what they will find on the other side. It is not a welcome event because if we have lived our whole lives the way we wanted to and not the way we ought to have, then we make a gamble. The unknown of death, whether it be Heaven, Hell, or just oblivion is terrifying to the one without a clean conscience.

When Death does come for us, there is no more running, no more hiding. We have been caught out in the open, ragged and exhausted from our frantic flight and the end is inevitable. What more worthy thing can we do? The film "Gladiator" suggests "Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back".

The only thing we can do is gird our loins and face our darkest terror with courage and resolve. While other men will despair or beg for mercy, a man of true-spirit gathers himself up and stands his ground, despite the challenge ahead. Sometimes, we are afforded a moment of reflection. All options run through our head, and our vain hope that we could make it out of this grim circumstance alive is forever on our thoughts. But after breathing deeply and turning our eyes to our ultimate fate, we realize that there is only one thing to do. At this point, success and failure are irrelevant: our focus has to be on completing the task at hand, mustering all forces of body and soul for this one purpose.

Then comes the moment of clarity. All of the struggle and confusion of this world melts away and there is only one thing that remains: the purpose. It is finally apparent that everything that has happened to you, everything you have endured, everything that has filled you with joy and sadness in your entire life was given to you to prepare you for this moment. Now, what will you do with this precious gift of a single moment? The passengers of United Flight 93 on September 11 knew. There would be no returning from that flight, but they saw past the despair at the end of their own lives. Instead, they held onto the most critical thing to do at that moment, and if they did not do it, who would?

"Dirty Old Dog"

Is it so hard to find something nice to say,
About a dirty old dog, that's had his day?
Now he mopes 'n lopes around the home,
Unwilling to play fetch or chew on a bone.
Barking at nothing, or napping all 'morn,
With fur all matted, needing to be shorn.
Pooping inside and peeing around,
That noisy house, though he can't hear a sound.

But I remember when he was just a pup,
When I taught him to sit and to speak up.
He knew how to "shake" and beg by my chair,
My dinner with him, I would always share.
He was smart as a whip and as fast as a dart,
We're the best of friends and never apart.
So I guess it's not hard to find something nice to say,
About that dirty old dog, that always made my day.

© 2012 The King's Coffee, All Rights Reserved.