The Parable of the Uncooperative Cupboard

A couple moved into their new home and everything seemed perfect. They were excited to make the place truly their own, and within a matter of weeks, it felt like home. Their pictures hung on the walls, favorite books lined the shelves, and as the old saying goes, there was "a place for everything, and everything in its place."

But there was a little problem. One of the cupboard doors in the kitchen refused to stay shut and flush like all of the others. The husband tried all sorts of remedies to fix it but nothing he did seemed to work. Every time he would walk in the kitchen, all he could think about was the door that just wouldn't quite shut. It began to drive him crazy and he found himself thinking about the cupboard door even when he wasn't home!

But one day, in the midst of obsessing over the singular flaw in their new home, his wife put a calming hand on his shoulder and got his attention.

"Sweetie, look at all of the other ones," she said.

When he took a step back and looked around the kitchen in its entirety, he saw that it was filled with cupboards that were beautiful, just right, perfect in every way. He smiled, and thought to himself, "What a wonderful new home. Why waste my time worrying over one little cupboard door that won't shut perfectly? Better to keep in mind what a blessing the whole place is."

Fortitude

"Enduring courage; strength of character in bearing pain with patience or in meeting danger undauntedly."

Strength. Not only of body, but of will and spirit and mind. Guts, gusto, what have you. I feel as though fortitude appears in my own life in brief, momentary flashes and then it too often seems to vanish into thin air. How to hold on to it is still a mystery to me.

"Enduring courage." It's not uncommon to wonder how one's courage can endure in such a frightening and brutal world. How can one persistently stand up for good in a world filled with poverty, hatred, violence and despair? Wars never cease so long as man is filled with pride and greed. Each new conflict, each death, each dashed dream can seem like another nail in courage's coffin.

We can only hope to live the virtue of fortitude if it is nourished by faith. Faith complements and indeed fuels fortitude. Such a virtue of strength amidst pain and suffering must be held in the highest esteem. Standing firm for our Lord and his Gospel of life, rooted in the truth of his resurrection and his promise to prepare a place for us, we can live in fortitude. As Scripture says, "God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it" (1 Corinthians 10:13). We can be filled with fortitude - enduring courage and meeting danger undauntedly - for that fortitude is the very presence of God himself in our hearts, filling us with his own courage and strength!

O Heavenly Father, grant unto me your steadfast endurance - the patient fortitude you displayed at Gethsemane. Amen.

“Arm yourself with prayer rather than a sword; wear humility rather than fine clothes.”
                            — St. Dominic

"The Glorious Duty of Man"

My little children, reflect on these words: the Christian's treasure is not on earth but in heaven. Our thoughts, then, ought to be directed to where our treasure is. This is the glorious duty of man: to pray and to love. If you pray and love, that is where a man's happiness lies.

Prayer is nothing else but union with God. When one has a heart that is pure and united with God, he is given a kind of serenity and sweetness that makes him ecstatic, a light that surrounds him with marvelous brightness. In this intimate union, God and the soul are fused together like two bits of wax that no one can ever pull apart. This union of God with a tiny creature is a lovely thing. It is a happiness beyond understanding.

We had become unworthy to pray, but God in his goodness allowed us to speak with him. Our prayer is incense that gives him the greatest pleasure.

My little children, your hearts are small, but prayer stretches them and makes them capable of loving God. Through prayer we receive a foretaste of heaven and something of paradise comes down upon us. Prayer never leaves us without sweetness. It is honey that flows into the soul and makes all things sweet. When we pray properly, sorrows disappear like snow before the sun.

                                                                           - St. John Vianney (1786-1859)

The Parable of the Lost Starfish

There was once a starfish who lived by herself on the shore, and before long she couldn't remember ever having been elsewhere. This was her home - this was the world she knew. But something was never quite right for the starfish. She felt empty, unfulfilled, out of place, and it filled her with a deep sadness. She watched as birds flew blissfully around the shoreline and the trees swayed to and fro in the gentle breeze. Why were they so happy? Why couldn't she be more like them?

One day, the starfish began to hear the surging voice of the nearby ocean more clearly, more steadily than ever before. Soon she could swear that she heard it speak to her, saying, "Come home! Come home!"

"Come home?" she thought. "What could that possibly mean? I am home, aren't I? This shore is my home - there's no other place for me."

"No it isn't," the Sea replied. "You were never meant to stay out there."

"But I can't go into the sea! It's big and terrifying and mysterious!" said the starfish.

"That might be what things look like from out there, where your life is so small and so rigid," replied the Sea, "but in my midst you will find unending joy, adventure, and family like you cannot imagine. You are alone out there, aren't you?"

Saddened, the starfish admitted her loneliness. But, still fearful of such an unimaginable change, she said, "I'm too afraid! If you really are where I belong, why don't you just grab hold of me and draw me in?"

"Because," said the Sea, "I made you to be free, to choose your destiny. I offer you everything you could ever want out here, away from the rigid land. But you have to desire to come along. Will you come home now, my precious one?"

The starfish, still fearful but filled with a new strength and trust in the loving Sea, stretched and strained with all her might toward the vast frontier. As soon as she did, the waves met and embraced her completely, carrying her joyfully into the depths of the home in which she was always meant to dwell.

A Prayer at the Sea

My Lord, I stand upon the shore in a state of awe. I never gaze into the sea-filled horizon without the same feeling coming over me. This mystery I behold reminds me of You. The sea, like you, is so very immense, so grand, so boundless. It fills me with joy as well as peace and tranquility - a bit like You do. But so do am I touched by a twinge of apprehension, even fear, for before such majesty I sense my own frailty and weakness, not to mention my small stature in the grand scheme of things. What am I next to such grandeur? What am I in the midst of the swelling, surging deep that day and night speaks one word to the rocky shore? Your Word, like the ceaseless waves, laps against the hard hearts of men over and over again until they cannot ignore Your presence any longer. You never give up, no matter how much I fortify the stony wall I've built to hold You back. You never leave me, never draw back or retreat to some far away land. No, Lord. You who contain so much power and might come most often in the soft and gentle caress of a summer tide. I pray You will open my heart to receive You into every corner of my being. Wash over and through me, Father, and may I never again be dry. Amen.

"The Last Things" pt. 2

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest" - Mt. 11:28

As I mentioned last week citing von Balthasar's observations on the matter, Christ himself is the "eschata" - the "last things" of the creature. He comes from the Eternal Father as a man, in time at a particular moment of human history. But he does not emerge from within it as we do. He comes in from the outside. God becomes part of His own creation. How often do any of us believers actually sit back and think about how incredible that is?

This God-Man then transforms everything we experience as human beings by mysteriously incorporating it all into himself: birth, growing up, learning, suffering, friendship, work, eating, sleeping, even death. There is no longer any corner of the human condition with which God, in the Person of Christ, is not intimately familiar. He is everywhere we are and he calls to us with love, encouragement, and grace around every turn.

But God respects our freedom implicitly, far more than we respect it or anyone else's! He, unlike us, will not (cannot) ever force or coerce anyone to choose the good. He is love itself, and real love is never forced. And so, the "final destination" is entirely tied to one's relation to Christ. If I choose him, it is called heaven. If I reject him, that is called hell. If I still have baggage which must be left at his door before going inside, it is called "purgatory", the process of abandoning every last obstacle. And as he gazes deeply into my very being, I cannot hide who I am, who I have made myself to be in life. That is what "judgement" truly is.

These "Four Last Things" are not distinct categories or separate experiences. They are my ultimate encounter with God, who is Reality Himself!