A life in Christ is non-violence activism

I attended an interesting "Peace and Justice" talk last night given by the well-known peace activist Jesuit Priest Father John Dear.

Father John is an engaging and thought-provoking priest. His passion for non-violent action to fight war, poverty and hunger is compelling and sincere.

Yet, as decent and faith-based as his argument is -- it is also fatally flawed. For some reason that I do not understand, Father John chooses not make Jesus the center of his argument. Though he speaks of Jesus often, when it comes times to making the pitch -- Father John instead pitches action steeped in human behavior, not action based in a Christ-like life. Maybe that's because many of his followers are well-meaning, ardent secularists to whom a faith-based argument may have limited effectiveness or be lost altogether.

Yet, without the embrace of Christ and His message of humility, compassion, and love, "non-violent" action is doomed to erosion, corruption and/or perversion.

In Christ, we find the truest form of goodness. And it is only through Him that we find the best defense against the all-too-human frailties of selfishness, ego and greed -- the origins of war and poverty.

No matter how big the victory of non-violent activism, if it based in human behavior, and not in Christ, then the victory will invariably fall victim to human frailties. A short glance back in human history affirms this.

And maybe this is the real point -- when we sincerely live a life in Christ, then the evils of humanity fall away. The effect is self-perpetuating (like pebbles in a pond.) It is a powerful starting point, it is the only path to lasting peace, and it is only available through the Grace of God.

Nonetheless, many thanks to Father John Dear for his work, passion and sincerity.

Strange Brew

This journey of ours, the one here on earth, does not always make sense to me.

As is characteristic of women of my generation (Gen X), I've firmly believed that I am the maker of my own destiny. And, for most part, this belief has delivered as promised.

Thus, one of the hardest things to adapt to, as a returning Catholic, is that it's not entirely up to me. God's got a plan. My biggest role is to pay attention with a faithful heart.

Some people might say this is finding your "calling."

Or rather, our calling finds us.

Tonight, it feels like a calling paid visit to me. Nothing extravagant happened, just a impromptu meeting on my front porch with a very spiritual Catholic woman who will join me soon in fellowship at the Cathedral Women's group. Yet, our meeting shook deeply. Like this furthered my sense of purpose in becoming an actively giving Catholic, like this is the direction God has chosen for me, like this is the highest and best use of my God-given skills.

Anyways, as I said, this doesn't all make sense to me. This path seems to be choosing me more than the other way around, which is not what I am used to.

And all I can do is pray, listen and act.

Toxicity needs a rest; Charity needs a renaissance

It's disheartening to watch anything involving Pres. Obama these days.

Instead of seeing civil expressions of support or discontent about his policies, we see instead a rabid, inflexible hatred on one side...and a meek, disorganized response on the other. (Former Pres. Bush endured a similar political environment, though his responses might not be characterized as meek.)

In today's political climate, lots of folks are getting riled up, but nothing is getting done. And there's a lot to do...and a lot we need to do right now. A short list could easily include dealing with: climate change,the deficit, energy independence, health care, clean air, clean water, social security, a poorly recovering economy, and two wars that are an awfully long way from home.

I was encouraged then, during this toxic American political/social/economic season, to read Pope Benedict XVI's Caritas in Veritate (Charity in Truth.) The Pope unapologetically urges us to reach back to our Christian roots and live in charity. To face unpleasant truths and address them with generosity, justice and love. To work not for ourselves so much as for the common good.

After forty-some-odd years of abject "individualism," these are not easy words for your average American to swallow. Charity as a way of life? Sharing personal wealth (counted in either time, money or emotion) with those who've not earned it.? Taking less than my fair share of the American pie? Blasphemy! Communism!

Yet, what are the options? To continue to march angrily (or passively) past the problems of the present is akin to riding your children's best horse straight to Hades. I bet that's one thing everyone agrees upon: We really don't want to go there.

Christ shared the answer with us long ago. Pope Benedict XVI eloquently reminds us again in Caritas in Veritate. Experience teaches us that charity is a better way to live our lives, and thus our politics. And, of course, charity begins at home, and in one's heart.

May peace and charity finds thier way to all of us.

The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

I was tempted to use a pseudonym but either you know her or you don't.

And if you know her, a pseudonym wouldn't matter. You'd recognize her anywhere.

Her name is Dawn. For reasons not known to me, Dawn is in a wheel chair. A visit to the Cathedral wouldn't be complete without seeing Dawn and her service dog Gizmo whizzing around, socializing, helping people.

Until today, I pitied Dawn. Her plight is not enviable. She's permanently wheel chair bound. No family nearby. No college. No prospects for a job in today's economic climate. She lives on a dime.

But Dawn does not pity herself.

After Mass, I had a chance to get to know her for the first time. Her struggles are real yet Dawn has chosen to embrace her opportunities rather than wallow in helplessness. She's a certified Sunday School teacher. She's an active member of the women's society...and get this: she drives her wheelchair (Gizmo in tow) to and from the Cathedral -- year round, rain or snow, day or night -- several times a week. This is no small feat. Dawn lives more than two miles away, in the downtown area, and must cross several wide busy streets along her journey. And where we live, it's gets pretty darn cold and snowy in the winter.

In fact, Dawn has a "take no prisoners" approach to wheelchair travel. She's not self-conscious about her disability. She's not afraid to own the sidewalk she traverses. I shudder to think of the verbal lashings she gives out to those who drive inconsiderately. I get the sense that Dawn's travel autonomy is a point of personal pride for her -- one of the few things she can lay full claim to.

Even so, I will start praying today for her safe travels and also pray that she has decades of travel ahead.

Dawn was simply not dealt the best in life, yet she makes the best of it in a truly Christian manner. I hope, pray when the time comes when Dawn will need more help (and it will come) that I and my fellow parishioners will be Christian enough to help her as she has helped herself and helped others.

Amen.

BTW -- Gizmo is a wonderful and devoted dog full of character, not so unlike Dawn.