SpiritMatters Monthly December 2010

Of the things that are, that have been,

And that future years shall see,

Ever more and ever more!

Contrary to popular belief,

Christmas Trees are not an ancient tradition. If you asked the average person on the street where the tradition of Christmas Trees came from, he or she would probably tell you that it was an ancient pagan custom that Christians adopted. Unfortunately, there isn’t any evidence to support this theory. While it is known that ancient pagans brought branches of evergreen and mistletoe into their homes during the winter season, the earliest evidence we have of anything even resembling a Christmas Tree dates from around the mid 1400s, and even then the practice was restricted to a few places in Estonia and Northern Germany. The modern popularity of Christmas Trees, particularly among English-speaking Christians, can largely and reliably be dated to one event:

In December of 1848 a drawing was printed in the Illustrated London News that depicted Queen Victoria and her husband Prince Albert standing around a decorated fir tree with the royal family (Prince Albert was German and therefore familiar with the Christmas Tree traditions of his homeland). The English nobility immediately latched on to the tradition and by the end of the 19^th century having a Christmas Tree was quite common, both in England and America. While it is true that we don’t know the exact date of Christ’s birth, we do know that Christians have been celebrating the event on December 25^th since before the year 355AD. That’s at least 1,655 Christmases! Over all those years the traditions surrounding the holiday have changed and developed as each new generation of Christians brings to the observance their own customs, rituals and beliefs. Some customs were brought by pagan converts (mistletoe), some were brought by ethnic groups (German Christmas Trees) and other we can trace to specific individuals (St. Francis of Assisi is responsible for creating the first Nativity Scene or Crèche).

We are now in the midst of the holiday season, a time of the year when for most of us tradition plays a larger role than during most of the rest of the year. Tradition is a funny thing: it shapes us while we shape it. Tradition is a living thing, and like most living things, it evolves and changes over time. We live in relationship with tradition, much like we live in relationship with other people in our lives: healthy relationships involve give and take; they involve listening and challenging; most importantly they involve mutual respect and not coercion. We may not always understand a tradition, but that is no reason to dismiss it. Healthy traditions allow us to be uniquely who we are, while at the same time challenging us to be a part of something larger, older and greater.

Tradition has a way of forcing us to encounter people that we would otherwise have no hope of meeting in our daily lives. It is through tradition that we encounter individuals that died hundreds, even thousands of years before us. By observing the same (or similar) rituals and practices, we are in a sense linked to our ancestors and they speak to us through the tradition. Our observance of different traditions connects us to people in far off foreign lands, at different times and in different places. It is also by tradition that we leave a legacy to those who will come after us. Tradition is that bizarre place where past, present, and future come together.

The Victorians adopted a tradition that was not their own (the German Christmas Trees), because in it they saw something of great beauty and value that enhanced their own celebration of Christmas, and by adopting the practice, they in turn have shaped our tradition. I love the fact that our modern holiday celebrations are such a hodgepodge of different traditions from different cultures. For me, the fact that our traditions are continuing to grow and develop are proof that God isn’t done with us yet.

SpiritMatters Monthly November 2010

So one elephant having a trunk was odd; but all elephants having trunks looked like a plot.

 

-G.K. Chesterton

 

I often say that New York is the biggest small town you will ever live in. In a city of roughly 8 million people you would think that the chances of randomly running into someone you know would be pretty unlikely, and yet it’s the sort of thing that happens to me all the time. I step on a subway train and there stands a friend that I haven’t seen in months; Walking down the street I often run into acquaintances from other parts of town, other cities and even other states. You can call it coincidence, you can call it serendipity, but to me it feels more like a plot. Why on earth with all the millions of possibilities out there should I regularly find myself in the right place at the right time? I know that I often think about the world as if it were ruled by complete chance, and yet my experience frequently proves otherwise.

 

Many of us have probably asked the question: “Why do bad things happen to good people?” but I wonder how many of us ask “Why do good things happen to good people?” If the universe were ruled by the laws of chance and probability then one outcome would seem just as likely as the other, but if we really look closely at life we will probably find that the good things happen more frequently. Why is it then that we spend so much time talking about the bad things in life? Maybe the bad things are so noticeable to us precisely because they are a departure from the norm. Good things happen with such regularity that eventually we begin to overlook them. I’m not talking about big miracles like winning the lottery or having a baby. I’m talking about the little everyday things that we take for granted: having enough food to eat, having friends that love and care for us, or getting over the flu. These things happen so regularly that we fail to notice them until they don’t happen. If we stopped focusing on the bad things in our life, or on the things that we don’t have and instead looked to the multitude of blessings that we often ignore, how much happier would our lives be?

 

We are headed into the holiday season and already advertisers are bombarding us with messages reminding us of what we don’t have or trying to convince us that we need precisely what they are trying to sell. This may be a burden of the holiday season that we have to live with, but we don’t have to accept it uncritically. Thanksgiving is a perfect time to remind ourselves, on the day before the madness of the holiday rush begins, of the ways in which we are already blessed. We can give thanks, not just for the food before us, but for the many good things which we regularly overlook. We just might discover that we already have more than we need. The giving that comes as a part of the holiday season can be a true joy if the gifts are our response to the abundance of blessings in our lives and not just another chore that we “need” to do. If you look at your life closely you may just discover a multitude of little blessings, graces or “coincidences” that individually can be explained away or ignored, but collectively are far more significant. I am always intrigued when watching artists at work. Some brush strokes seem totally bizarre and pointless until the painting is finished and you realize how important that one splash of red or dot of white is to the overall painting. May we prepare for this holiday season by taking the time to give thanks for all the little good things in our lives: those little moments of grace which by the laws of chance and probability didn’t have to happen, but did anyways. Let us give thanks for all those little brush strokes that remind us, even for a moment, that there is an artist at work.

 Blessings,

Fr. Kevin

SpiritMatters Monthly October 2010

I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.

 

Where do you turn when it seems that the world has turned on you? Most of us have some sort of support network that we rely upon to get us through tough times. We depend upon family and friends to nurture, comfort and protect us when we are weak and struggling. It is a blessing to have people in our life that love us and support us, but there are times though that no matter how strong a support system we have, it just doesn’t seem to be enough. Regardless of how functional our family is or how dependable our friends are, we should never forget that they are all human and capable of failure from time to time. It isn’t always possible to know what another person is feeling, and even if we know someone is hurting we don’t always know how to respond. We can’t always count on other people to save us; sometimes we need a force more powerful.

 

I often hear people talk about faith and religion as if they were primarily concerned with one’s views or beliefs about the afterlife. Many people think of faith and religion as hobbies for those that are naturally interested in such things, or as preoccupations of the superstitious; we may be respectful of someone’s faith in an effort to be polite and civil, but I wonder if we don’t often undervalue how truly powerful a force it can be in their life. Faith isn’t just about heaven and hell; for some people its primary benefits are how it allows them to live in this life, not the next. Perhaps the most remarkable thing about faith is not that it has the power to save you from some eternal hell, but that it has the power to save you from a hell that you may already be living in.

 

 

Despair and loneliness can be terrifying feelings. If you have ever felt that your world has been turned upside down or questioned if you will ever know happiness or peace again, then you know what I am talking about. The rash of suicides in the news lately are a sobering reminder of just how deadly despair can be. Let’s face it, the world we live in isn’t always a friendly place. When the world seems cruel and unforgiving it is helpful to have a sense of love and forgiveness that comes from beyond this world. One of the great benefits of a healthy faith is that it can equip us to overcome loneliness and despair. Faith can give us the strength and confidence to keep going even in the face of adversity. Faith gives us the hope that things will get better and that our future is never as bleak as it sometimes seems. Faith can give us the courage, as the gospel hymn goes: “to hold on just a little while longer.”

Life throws mountains in front of us all the time: embarrassment, pain, disappointment, rejection. There are times when we may want to quit because we think we will never overcome it. It is in those times when even a tiny amount of faith can give us the power to hold on until either the mountain moves or until we have the strength to climb it; either way a tiny amount of faith can sustain us, when the rest of the world lets us down.

Don’t underestimate the power of your faith. Look back on your life and think of times when it may have been the only thing that sustained you. When we talk about someone’s faith or religion, we’re not just talking about where they go on Friday night or Sunday morning, we’re talking about something that just might be a fundamental part of their existence. Whether or not we think someone’s faith has the power to save them in the next world, we should always consider how it may have already saved them in this one.

Blessings,

Fr. Kevin

SpiritMatters Monthly September 2010

From Ghoulies and Ghosties,

And Long-Leggedy Beasties,

And things that go Bump in the Night,

Good Lord, Deliver us.

 

The earth doesn’t spin perfectly around the sun; it wobbles. Sometimes the Northern Hemisphere is pointed toward the sun, sometimes the Southern. Our seasons of spring, summer, fall and winter are the direct result of this cosmic hokey pokey that our planet does on its annual dance around the sun. The September equinox marks a transition and for those of us in the Northern hemisphere, it means that our days will be getting increasingly shorter for the next few months. As much as I love the fall with its cooler temperatures and beautiful color, I must admit that I find the decreasing daylight to be a bit of a bummer. In the ancient and medieval world, losing daylight was far a far more threatening reality than it is to us. With electricity and artificial light we are able to control our environment in ways that people a few generations ago could never have imagined, but without such conveniences the fall can appear much more sinister indeed: Increasing cold, increasing disease, and increasing crime as the long, dark night provides cover for all manner of illicit activity. We often fear things that lurk in the shadows: the unseen and unexpected creatures and villains that leap out at us unexpectedly. It is no accident that a festival like Halloween comes at such a time in the year when it seems like the darkness has the upper hand; when the night is longer and we can see less of what is going on around us. But while we spend so much time worrying about things that we cannot see, faith is there to remind us that not every invisible force is a foe: in fact, we are told that in the realm of the unseen there are more powerful creatures fighting for us than against us.

 

A few days after the official transition from summer to fall (the autumnal equinox or September 23) comes a feast that at one time was of great importance and a holy day of obligation: the Feast of Saint Michael the Archangel. This festival is sometimes referred to as Michaelmass or the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels, and it celebrates a figure that is referred to in the Hebrew, Christian and Islamic Scriptures. Michael’s image is easily recognizable as he is traditionally depicted much differently than any other angel: we usually see Michael armored for battle with a sword in one hand and a serpent under his foot. This is no blushing cherub with a halo; this is a soldier and it’s for this reason that Michael is the patron of police officers and members of the armed services, but Michael is meant to be more than just a medal worn around the neck for good luck. Michael should remind us that in the midst of our daily anxieties, when we are worried about all the things lurking in shadows that seem bent of destroying us, that there are also forces working to protect us as well and often they are equally unseen. While in art we often see angels depicted as being bright, glorious and a bit showy, making dramatic announcements or blowing a trumpet; the reality seems to be that more often than not angels work behind the scenes with little or no credit.

 

Perhaps the Feast of Saint Michael comes at a very opportune time for those of us in this part of the world. As the night gets longer we can choose to become increasingly afraid of every bump in the night; terrified of the dangers that are hiding just beyond our sight; or we can go to sleep and rest easy, believing that regardless of what may be trying to get us, there is a force far more powerful that is determined to save us.

Blessings,

Fr. Kevin

SpiritMatters Monthly July 2010

Martha, Martha

 

I am very busy these days. I have more work to do with less help and less time. I have too much paperwork; too many appointments and too many meetings to go to. When I get home there is housework to do, yard work to do, social and family obligations, church services, etc. I could continue to go on about how busy I am but you probably wouldn’t have time to read it, because you’re busy too. It’s a funny little irony that while talking about how busy we are sometimes makes us feel special; it actually proves that we are just like everyone else. The fact is that we all have busy lives, but nonetheless our “busy-ness” is one of the first excuses we all (myself included) grab for whenever we are trying to justify why we didn’t do something: I was just too busy; there aren’t enough hours in the day; I didn’t have the time… Let’s face it, being too busy is a tired excuse and we should put it to rest. Being busy has nothing to do with our modern world either: humans have more free time now than at any previous point in our history. Why then are we all so task-oriented? Perhaps it’s because being task-oriented is sometimes easier than being people oriented. Our jobs and chores demand our time and skill, but little else: “busy work” does not place the same emotional demands on us that “people work” does. It can be very easy, especially when working in the healthcare or service industries, to see other people as more occasions for work, and not as human beings with emotional and spiritual needs just like you and me. It can be convenient to make people into objects: to turn them into numbers, or DRGs or food trays, but doing so not only cheats them of the respect they deserve, it also cheats us of the rewards that come with knowing and serving other people. No matter how much time and emotion you put into your work, it will never love you back and it will never thank you. Only people can do that.

 

There is a familiar story in the Gospel of Luke which has Jesus visiting the home of two sisters: Martha and Mary. While Mary was content to sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to him, Martha was totally preoccupied with all of the various chores associated with house guests. When Martha complained to Jesus that her sister wasn’t helping her he responded by saying: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” I think we all have a tendency to become worried and distracted by the many tasks in our lives. Our “busy-ness” pulls us further and further away from being present with and to our fellow human beings. Mary chooses the better part because she chooses to be in the moment with Jesus, fully present to him. Mary doesn’t see this visitor as merely another mouth to feed or more work to be done, she sees him as a blessing in her life that deserves her full attention. While so much of what we work for in life ultimately proves to be momentary and fleeting, the time that we spend with others is never wasted, because those memories and experiences can never be taken from us.

We all have work to do, some of it very important and necessary work indeed, but our work should draw us closer to the people in our lives and the people we serve; it shouldn’t distract us from them. I will probably continue to be busy for the foreseeable future; so will you. But being busy is much more tolerable when you are constantly reminded of who and what you are working for. The work we do has so much more meaning when it has a human face.

Blessings,

Fr. Kevin

 

SpiritMatters Monthly June 2010

A child said “What is the grass?” fetching it to me with full hands;

How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

 

A few years back there was a trend in this country of grocers selling ‘corn-fed beef’ as a premium item. A couple high-end retail outlets sprang up to distribute this supposedly superior meat to those willing to pay for it. While corn-fed beef is still available and quite prevalent in many supermarkets it is no longer as prized as it once was and now ‘grass-fed beef’ is considered the preferred choice. Why did this trend shift? The answer is surprisingly simple:

 

Have you ever seen a cow shuck corn?

 

The answer is obviously ‘No,’ because cows aren’t naturally designed to eat corn. Cows are designed to eat grass. Corn actually makes cows sick and feedlots compensate by giving their cows antibiotics and other drugs. The organic food movement has brought attention to the negative effects that our attempts at “improving” much of our food have had on our health and the health of our environment. In our struggle to find a better cow feed we overlooked the solution that was right under our feet: grass.

 

In the 1300s a Franciscan friar by the name of William of Ockham proposed that the simplest solution is usually the best one. Scientists refer to this as Ockham’s Razor. We humans have a tendency to complicate things more than necessary: not just with our food, but in our daily life and work. We make our lives harder than they need to be. Maybe we are restless or ambitious; maybe we are so distracted by our own complex lives that we fail to see the beauty in simplicity. Humans are extremely smart, and yet we constantly find ourselves outwitted by nature.

 

Manhattan is a complex world of new experiences and pleasures and one can find just about every conceivable sort of entertainment on that island, but pick any sunny June day and what do you find hundreds of thousands of New York City residents looking for?: a patch of grass. Whether it’s the Sheep Meadow in Central Park or the Christopher Street Pier, people flock to find a temporary spot on the grass. We may not always think about it, but it is amazing how restorative living grass can be when we spend so much of our lives on dead concrete.

 

Walt Whitman was fascinated with grass. He looked at grass and saw not just a simple plant, but a sign that the earth was alive. In his poem “Song of Myself” Walt writes:

 

What do you think has become of the young and old men?

And what do you think has become of the women and children?

 

They are alive and well somewhere,

The smallest sprout shows there really is no death,

And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,

And ceased the moment life appeared.

 

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,

And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

 

This summer as we are moving the lawn, sunbathing, playing sports or picnicking, may we see beneath our feet a sign of our world’s life and our creator’s power…and may we be fed by it.

Blessings,

Fr. Kevin

SpiritMatters Monthly May 2010

This mystery of Love be sung,

In every age, by every tongue.

 

Every year at 5a.m. on May the 1^st a very unique tradition takes place in the University town of Oxford, England. That morning, known as May Morning, the choir from the chapel of Magdalen College (pronounced “Maudlin”) climbs to the top of its medieval bell tower and sings a hymn to the rising sun. This tradition dates back at least 500 years and is now the occasion for great revelry and festivities in the street below Magdalen College tower.

 

 Not many colleges or universities can point to traditions that are over 500 years old, but every school has traditions that it clings to with an almost religious zeal. So often the world thinks of young people as being anti-establishment or anti-tradition, but take a walk on any college campus and you are sure to find scores of young adults eagerly participating in traditions that range from the mundane to the bizarre. In New Haven, Connecticut there is a statue in the middle of Yale University’s old campus with a golden toe, polished by being constantly rubbed by students for good luck; at Dartmouth University the winter’s first snowfall each year is celebrated by a snowball fight on the college green; this year almost every college and high school commencement ceremony will begin with the familiar tune “Pomp and Circumstance.” When life is filled with change and turmoil, as the lives of many young adults are, it can be very reassuring to have something stable and dependable to hold on to. Perhaps it is for this reason that it is common to refer to our school as our “alma mater,” which is Latin for “nourishing mother.”

 

Our schools, like our mothers, should protect us, build us up, and give us the skills we need to survive in a tumultuous and changing world. We also refer to “mother church” for much the same reason: because it is there as a reliable source of love and encouragement when the rest of the world is more fickle with its affections. Our mothers’ are responsible for teaching us many of the traditions that we turn to for comfort later in life. Whether our traditions are taught to us by mother school, mother church, or our real mother, they are our connection to the past and our legacy to the future. The Church remembers three special mothers this month: Mary, Elizabeth and Monica. For catholics, the month of May is dedicated to the Virgin Mary (arguably the most famous mother of all) and the Feast of the Visitation recalls her visit to the home of her cousin Elizabeth, who was soon to become a mother herself. One wonders what traditions and what elements of character these two women transmitted to their sons. We often talk about the “fathers” of the Church, people like Saint Augustine of Hippo, who spilt ink and sometimes blood defending the faith, but the fact that Augustine was a Christian at all is directly the result of the persistence of his mother Monica. Receiving out faith at the hands of our mothers is not just a Christian phenomenon either: in the Jewish tradition, one is considered Jewish if they are born to a Jewish mother. Like our traditions, our mothers connect us to the past and give birth to our future; they are a reminder that we are not floating alone in some soulless cosmos, but are connected physically, emotionally and spiritually to the world around us. The Magdalen College choir sings an ancient song on May Morning, which gives thanks to the Holy Trinity for the gift of the Eucharist, which in Christian theology fills us with God’s life; may we too give thanks this May for the sources of life and love in our own lives.

Blessings,

Fr. Kevin