Translating a World on the Edge

Young people are often asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Many answer with a plan to follow in the footsteps of a person who is well-known –a popular singer or musician, a sports hero, a movie star, etc. As a general rule, when we’re young we say we want to Be Someone.  Many times that means Someone Famous. These are the dreams of children, but often a child’s dream doesn’t come true.

These unattained dreams are what Robert Burns refers to in this line from his poem “To a Mouse:” “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley.” (The best laid schemes of mice and men / Often go awry.)

We can’t control everything in our lives, or everything about who we are, much as we’d like to think so. There is no fast car to take us to our dream–no free ride. But there is also no certainty that even if we have the talent, even if we put in the work, that we will obtain our dream of notoriety. There are many singers, musicians, athletes, and actors who are as talented and hard-working, or even <em>more</em> talented and hard-working, that those ones who actually become famous. So why don’t those talented people ‘make it?’

Let’s consider that ‘making it’ may not the reason God gives us talents. His plan is not one of ‘Mice and Men.’ It is far more reaching and complicated than that. We are advised by scripture to use our talents, not hide them; but that doesn’t mean God is ready with a contract in hand for a movie deal, a hit recording, or a football championship. God does not give us talents for our personal notoriety, though some may attain personal fame. But our talents–those things we love to do, or feel called to do–are given to us as personal expressions and as joyful gifts for reaching out to others.

When we follow a person on Twitter, it’s because we either admire him or her, or because we’re curious. We may not be a fan, yet; but we want to see what makes this person tick, how he or she goes about things, even what he has to offer us in return. If we like what we see, we’re enthusiastic. We’re devoted. We are a Fan.

Are we true fans of Jesus? Do we attempt to shadow His goodness?
Shadowing Jesus isn’t about showing up for the church committees we may serve on. Following Him isn’t about putting in an appearance at Mass on Sunday. Following Jesus is personal: Jesus and me.

My path to growth is taken as a child of God. This path involves others, but if it doesn’t begin with me, it is a fruitless and futile effort. Once we have that personal beginning, we will naturally reach out to others.

On our new path, we attempt to emulate–to be like Jesus. In the beginning of our imitation of Him, we discover the stirring of a fact we may not have realized: we are already His. We are made in His image. We are made to be good.

And He wants us. He wants us to freely choose Him. But we have the ability to say yes or no. On our path of following Him, when He turns to us and asks us to be a reflection of His goodness, how many times have we said, no? I would suggest many.

However, each step we take with Him, each communicative step, each conversation with our God—whether positive or negative on our part, is a step to growth. Because God will never leave us, though we may leave Him, time and time again.

The trick is never to give up on the following. To learn what makes Him tick. How He goes about things. We have to understand what He offers us in return.

Outward discipleship can be an off and on thing, like pulling petals off a daisy in a reversed child’s game: I love Him. I don’t love Him. I love Him. I don’t Love Him. After all, we are flawed and fragile.

But God is perfect. God is always. His grace through the Holy Spirit is forever present. We have to choose, and sometimes re-choose it; nevertheless, our genuine path as Human Beings is to continue to follow Truth in our walk with Jesus.

This Catholics Come Home “Epic” TV commercial emphasizes the history, beauty, spirituality and accomplishments of the Catholic Church over her 2,000-year history. It illustrates how the universal Church is comprised of all races, ages, cultures and socioeconomic levels. It combines important factual information with breathtaking imagery and is an invitation for fallen away Catholics to consider coming back to the Church.– Catholic365.com

If we’re honest, we’ll admit that we’re always looking for something more than what we have, even if we seem to have a lot. It may be something we can’t quite put a finger on, but we feel its lack and a certain craving for it inside us. Could that thing we’re looking for be God? The Good News is, God is looking for us.

God is truly seeking you. He has made Himself flesh for you because He is madly in love with you. And if you’re longing for Him in return, you will find Him right here on Earth. You will find him in the person sitting, sleeping, or working next to you, and in the myriad of other people you meet in life.

The Hound of Heaven is a 182-line poem written by English poet Francis Thompson (1859-1907). In the poem, the speaker is running from God, as do many of us who get caught up in the world. But God pursues him. The speaker is aware of God’s love for him, but he continues to run, thinking that if he turns to God, he will have to give up the worldly pleasures he holds to.

The name is strange. It startles one at first. It is so bold, so new, so fearless. It does not attract, rather the reverse. But when one reads the poem this strangeness disappears. The meaning is understood. As the hound follows the hare, never ceasing in its running, ever drawing nearer in the chase, with unhurrying and imperturbed pace, so does God follow the fleeing soul by His Divine grace. And though in sin or in human love, away from God it seeks to hide itself, Divine grace follows after, unwearyingly follows ever after, till the soul feels its pressure forcing it to turn to Him alone in that never ending pursuit.– The Neumann Press Book of Verse, 1988

God loves us and so He seeks us. If we run from Him, it’s because we don’t really know Him. We cannot love someone we don’t know. Neither can we love someone we know little about. Trying to get to know God is on our shoulders. He is there, always, loving us. He is waiting.

Beginning something new and unknown is often frightening. We’re like a child learning to ride a bicycle for the first time, We fear the results. We fear the fall.

Starting something new may cause us to doubt ourselves. We may not know how to go about it, or exactly what we’re doing. But not knowing what we’re doing isn’t always a bad thing. Especially if you’re trusting in someone who does, someone like Jesus.

The trick in beginning anything is not to lose faith. We have to keep our eyes on the prize. And if we need help, ask for it. And who better to ask than Jesus?

So let’s get our feet wet. Let’s try–and expect success. Because in our souls, we possess the only real model, and we are made in His image. He will not let us drown. So when Jesus calls our Love into action by asking for something we’ve never tried before, what will we do?

Scripture tells us in this example: “After feeding the 5000, Jesus sends his disciples ahead of him in a boat to cross the Sea of Galilee. A storm comes up and the disciples are afraid, so Jesus comes to them, walking on the water. The disciples think they are seeing a ghost. Jesus says, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

Peter says, “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.” So Jesus invites Peter to come.

In good Catholic fiction, characters live in a broken world, like ours today, and they are fallible people, as we are. What’s important though, is the absolute truth that God’s grace breaks into this reality. God is now, and always will be, present to the characters in Catholic Fiction—just as He is in real life for us.

There are plenty of sinners in my novel, A Hunger in the Heart. I’d like to tell you about one of them today, and to point out that God never leaves this character alone, even in her sinfulness—just as he never leaves you and I alone.

Sarah Neal Bridgeman is an alcoholic, a vindictive mother and wife. This is a woman who’s lost a lot. And because she’s somewhat narcissistic, she can’t handle that loss. She’d like to, but she just can’t let go of her own self-importance and prejudices. Yet, she doesn’t let God go either.

Her greatest loss is in the deficiency of the perfect husband she used to have. Sarah Neal wants him to be like he was. She prays for it. She surrounds herself with symbols of God. She wears a crucifix around her neck and hangs one in every room of her house. But Sarah Neal is a person, like many of us, who wants to blame someone else for her sorrows.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t blame God. She never says, “Why did God do this to me! Instead, she blames the soldier her husband saved in the war. She even blames her alcoholism on this soldier.

And her drinking affects everyone around her, especially her son, Coleman. Her sin changes her, just as sin changes us. God still loves her, but she can’t love him as she ought to, because whiskey has become her primary love. Addictions do that. They take over our lives.

God’s grace is available to Sarah Neal, as it is for all of us. He waits for us to take it. The problem is, until we see ourselves as the sinner—-until we notice we’re the only one in the room responsible for our sins—-we can’t recognize that Grace so we don’t reach for it. And just like Sarah Neal, if we don’t recognize and reach for grace, how can we use it in our lives?

In real life, if we take a truthful look at ourselves, we will see our sins and how they affect others. That truthful look at ourselves can cause us to change our behaviors and return to the God who loves us, who waits for us with open arms.

How many people in today’s world would you call ‘damaged?’ Or does life itself just pre-conclude that by the time you leave it you’ll have been damaged in some way?

Life is difficult. For many, it is sometimes dangerous. It doesn’t seem like a gift, but something to get through. Of course, that’s a depressing view–but many people, especially some children, hold it.

Countless children are born into circumstances they did not create, and under circumstances that cause them great pain. Others have been taught to have no faith in anything except themselves, a ‘self’ that is blemished and marred: Trust no one. Somebody’s always out to get you. Take what you can before it’s taken from you. Grab. Steal. Even kill.

None of us choose the circumstances of our birth, but some appear to be luckier than others—I’m not talking about the amenities money can provide–I’m talking about strong families who support their children. Yes they make mistakes, but they confirm their children as being valuable, and patiently direct them onto non-destructive paths.

I’m talking about one father per family, not a father of ten by ten different women. Appalling? Yes. Yet those young lives are no less valuable in the eyes of God than are the more fortunate children. But how can they know this when their parents slap God in the face with their own selfishly stupid behavior?
There is no all-encompassing solution to changing this. More parental responsibility would go a long way, with fathers who not only see life as a gift, but their child and his mother as a gift, rather than a notch on his belt of so-called, ‘baby mamas.’

Every parent is human and often makes poor decisions. There’s no getting around that fact. And sometimes it takes tragedy to see what our mistakes as parents have been. When that happens, we can either fall apart or try to rectify it however we can.

Because life IS a difficult journey for each and every one of us; no matter our parents, no matter our circumstances.

Maybe we don’t honor our children. Maybe they don’t honor us. In the frustrations of life, we say things we don’t mean. Sometimes we even forget HOW to love them.

But we can get that back –in little steps, one foot in front of the other without giving up–and all the while thinking of ourselves and our children not as victims, but as victors, the way God wants them to be.

You may need a Kleenex for this next video about reconciliation between a Father and his son.

Is there any parent here who cannnot identify with this picture? —The hands over the ears when you’re trying to get a point across to your child?

So what do you do? Well–after you’ve yanked away his hands–I would bet that you’re speaking a bit louder to him. In fact, you might even be shouting!

We’ve talked about God’s speaking silently to our hearts, giving us gentle direction, or confidence, or leading us softly where we need to be. But there are times when God does not speak softly. He SHOUTS!

And during these times, His voice is demanding. What He desires to communicate to us may be what we NEED to hear, but what we don’t WANT to hear. Like the boy in the picture, we put our hands over our ears, too, because what God wants from us may require us to change something we’ve grown accustomed to, something not very good for us.

How many times do we close our ears to His voice pounding inside us––or should I say warning us?––to do what we ought to do?

God is SHOUTING then, in order to shine out some action on our part—some change in our behavior.
The actions or events that come to us then, may be ones we wouldn’t chose ourselves because they’ve ultimately been caused by our own sinful behavior.We may even have to suffer a loss, or humiliation before we will change our sinful ways. God allows our suffering. And His allowing it is a loving action. Of course we can choose not to listen. God never takes away our free will.But during these times, God is SHOUTING.

There are also times when WE cry out TO GOD. He is our parent, after all; our Father. This is not quiet prayer. This is prayer of need, maybe out of sorrow, or fear, or defeat. We NEED God. We don’t want Him to leave us alone. We let Him know it. We ask. We knock. We SHOUT.
God is listening to both our prayers–the quiet ones, and the loud ones.

But are we listening to Him and His will for us? Or do we cover our ears like an impudent child? If we want to know God’s will for us, then we have to be open to PRAYER. We NEED to pray.

In my novel, “A Hunger in the Heart,” the main character, a boy named Coleman, looks at his mother Sarah Neal, who is an alcoholic with a crucifix hung around her neck and a rosary in her hand. And the boy sees a hypocrite.
“How can you pray?” he asks her. She looks back at him and says, “Because I’m a sinner, Coleman. If I wasn’t sinner I wouldn’t need to pray, would I?”

She’s not completely correct about that, but at this point, all she’s thinking about is sorrow for her sinfulness. God is present to Sarah Neal, just as God is always present to us. And in prayer we make ourselves present to HIM. We acknowledge God’s presence. And this is just what He wants us to do—acknowledge Him, reach out to Him. Right here. Right now. No matter the circumstance.

For some of us prayer takes a humility we haven’t been willing to give. It takes the acceptance that despite the current hype that we ought to be totally independent, we know somewhere deep inside us that we can’t go it alone. We need another’s hand.

When we pray God is listening. We can tell him anything without worry because He loves us. In fact, He’s madly in love with us.