Heart's Content

It has been a year since my wife and I took our first ever vacation without our children. Not only does the trip's anniversary bring back a flood of memories of St. John's, NL, my wife recently finished a painting of the harbour. We now have a constant reminder of our fantastic trip to the most easterly part of our continent.

Painting of St. John's harbour (copyright, all rights reserved)

As we reminisce, the names of some Newfoundland towns and fishing villages come to mind. I love how things get their names in NL; there's always a story. And if you look past the embellishment of the story teller, they are pretty practical names. St John's is named after St. John the Baptist. Mistaken Point saw lots of shipwrecks because sailors mistook it for the main point around a peninsula, and by the time they realized their mistake it was often too late.

Our drive up one of the many picturesque coastlines of Newfoundland took us through three towns named Heart's Desire, Heart's Delight and Heart's Content. They were quaint little fishing villages along the rugged coast that clearly indicates why the island part of the province is called The Rock

As we drove through these villages, I started thinking that names are more than just cute or quaint, they have a theological meaning. The heart is the symbol of love, and our sojourn through these towns took us on a journey through the stages or distinctions love in Greek—eros, philia and agape.*

First we pass through Heart's Desire. Eros is the passionate or physical love. I think that's usually the first stage of love, an emotional response more than a conscious decision to love the other.

A little farther up the coast we pass through Heart's Delight. Philia is more of a friendly or familial love. Because it requires loyalty and virtue, I place this as a higher form of love than eros. We need to know the beloved before we are able to offer philial love and therefore requires a conscious decision to love the other.

Our journey of love ends with Heart's Content—agape—where we find unconditional love, a more spiritual love. Our hearts' are content; they are no longer restless because they can rest in the infinite and unconditional love of God that St. Paul describes in 1 Cor 13. The will of the lover and beloved are unified, and we can find true peace and contentment.

May our journeys of life always end in Heart's Content.


*I purposely omit storge because of it's application is almost exclusively meant for familial relationships and, well, there are only three towns.

What's in your blind spot?

I didn't plan on writing about about the walk to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35), but it's been niggling at my brain, and there's only one way to get rid of a niggle. Well, there are probably lots of ways. I don't know; I'm not a niggle expert. But I'll write about it to get rid of it.

Don't get me wrong. The story is a powerful one, and it has personal significance because of a retreat I was on years ago. The homily on Sunday was a good one. But I had the attitude, "Oh, this story," and did not really listen intently or meditate on it.

Then came the niggle.

As I thought about it more, I realized the disciples on their way to Emmaus had a spiritual blind spot. There Jesus was, right in front of them, talking to them, explaining how the scriptures were fulfilled in him and his resurrection, but they didn't recognize him.

Blind spots are a fact of our daily lives. I remember discovering my visual blind spot in science class experiment. Thankfully we can move our heads to easily resolve the problem.

We have lots of blind spots when we drive. Again, moving the ol' noggin alleviates the problem. Now we have all sorts of technology to reveal things hidden in our blind spots —back up beepers, back up cameras, blind spot sensors on our side mirrors, back seat drivers, etc.

We all have psychological, emotional and spiritual blind spots. Some we are not aware of. Others we create ourselves to avoid a reality we are not prepared to face.

Just as it took a little help from Jesus for the disciples to recognize him as the risen Christ, we need a little special help to recognize (or face) our own spiritual blind spots. And the help comes from the Holy Spirit, the one Jesus promised he would send when he returned to the Father (cf John 14:26).

We also have been given pillars of our faith to help reveal those things that might otherwise remain hidden: sacred scripture, sacred tradition and the teaching authority of the Church. Guess who ties all those together? The Holy Spirit.

Every week, Jesus reveals himself to us just as he did to the disciples, in the breaking of the bread. Plus we have the other six sacraments where we have a real, personal, physical encounter with God's love and grace. His light reveals things that were previously hidden (cf Mark 4:22).

Holy Spirit, lovingly reveal those things that are hidden in our blind spots so we may know and love you with the Father and Son.

There. Take that you niggle.

What are our spiritual blind spots, and how do you deal with them?

Death and taxes and...

I can't believe I just created a blog title with "taxes" in it. What have I become?

Well, it is that season in North America. Taxes are due at the end of the month, and for my American readers, you're really down to the wire.

The ol' cliche has been running through my mind. A quote attributed to Ben Franklin says, "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes." I'm not an historian, so I'm trusting the internet to source this one.

This is not only tax season; it's the season of lent. And our readings at Mass the last few weeks have indicated maybe Ben missed something on his list of certainties. Jesus healing the blind man, His encounter with the woman at the well and especially raising Lazars from the dead point to one core certainty—one we will see even more powerfully in the Triduum—eternal life through Jesus.

"I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die." –John 11:25

So, as Good Friday approaches and we give to Caesar that which is Caesar's (cf Mark 12:17), let's keep in mind there's something more important after that—eternal life with our beloved Saviour.

Have a blessed Holy Week!

Do I have to?

I knew it was going to happen. I did it. My wife did it. I'm pretty sure you did it.

It was only a mater of time before one of our kids uttered the question some innocent Sunday morning. "Do I have to go to church?"

It actually happened some time ago with our oldest, now 11 years old. And yes, I felt like a bit of a failure as a parent. "How could my little baby say such a thing? What have I done to deserve this?" I got over it quickly. But when our four year old muttered the phrase recently, it kinda surprised me. How could she be so weak-willed to bow to the negative peer-pressure of her older sister? Monkey see, monkey do.

It surprised me also because she loves to sing at Mass, and participates well. Usually. Sometimes. Some weeks. She prays the Creed, so I'll take that as a sign that God's grace is at work.

From the first time the dreaded, "Do I have to?" came from the mouths of our children, I have deflected the complaint instead of meeting the conflict head on. I use language like, "We get to go to Church," instead of we have to go. It helps avoid much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Some of the sarcasm is lost on little ones, but I'll groan, "Oh no. The Creator of Universe loves me so much He died for me, and I have to spend an hour accepting His love and say, 'Thanks Jesus. Love ya too,' in my own wounded way." Then the eyes roll, so I know it hit home with the eldest.

Our Sunday obligation is too often misunderstood. We tend to see it as a rule we can rebel against. But really, it's a privilege that, as St. Paul expressed, is so tremendous our hearts, minds, souls—our very beings—compel us to act in some way (cf. 2 Cor 5:14). If we don't express our love and celebrate the day of the resurrection, something inside us will burst. If we don't celebrate the joy of the Spirit, the rocks will cry out on our behalf (cf. Luke 19:40).

I'm pretty sure it wasn't some rule that compelled the disciples to go back out preaching Jesus raised from the dead after getting beaten and thrown into prison, multiple times (cf almost all of the Acts of the Apostles).

I'm pretty sure the conversation did not go like this:

Thomas: Hey guys. This whole getting beaten thing sucks. Why don't we just call it quits. Jesus would never know.
James: And the prison food is not even close to Mom's cooking.
John: Maybe we can just say that Jesus was a really good guy. Maybe even a prophet.
Matthew: Yeah, people would buy that. At least it would be less painful for us.
Peter: But Jesus said we have have to. Ugh. So, I guess we have to. At least once a week for an hour.
Andrew: But I have to park my camel so far away, it's just horrible.

It's not fear or some sense of following rules that gets us to Mass on Sunday. It is (or at least should be) our love of Christ and our desire to grow in holiness, to grow closer to Him, to be with Him for eternity.

How are you, as a parent, modeling your Sunday obligation? Do you see it as a chore and find yourself thinking, "Move it along padre, the game starts in 10." Or do you present it as a joyful celebration in which we get to participate. Remember, your children are likely to follow your lead. Choose wisely. Act accordingly.

Lenten triple threat

Every young basketball player is taught the triple threat position—an offensive position in which you are prepared to do one of three things: pass, dribble/drive or shoot. It gives you and your team the best chance to score a basket.

I'm not sure if other sports use the same terminology, but the same principle applies for several team sports like hockey, soccer, lacrosse, etc. My soccer-playing son is learning he can no longer kick the ball and outrun everyone else to the other end and score. It's a lot easier to score when your team has the ball. And the best way to make that happen is to always be ready to dribble, pass or shoot, depending on the situation.

Lent is fast approaching, and it's time to think about or lenten triple threat: prayer, fasting and almsgiving.

With the end goal of growing in holiness in mind (and ultimately Heaven), our lenten triple threat will help us get ready to celebrate the resurrection at Easter.

Prayer focuses our minds and hearts on God. It helps us realize we are part of a team (a.k.a. the communion of saints), and listening to our coach and supporting that team is how we can all grow in holiness, both indivudually and together.

Fasting helps us realize there are more important things (or a more important person) then our earthly possessions. A little sacrifice goes a long way in helping us understand the difference between wants and needs. We need sustenance. We want over-indulgance. We need God. We want a lot of other things, toys and electronic gadgets. Learning a little discipline, self-control and sacrifice (with the help of a little thing called grace) helps us appreciate the difference and put things in perspective.

Almsgiving helps us just as much as it helps other. We realize our interdependence as a community—we rely on God, others rely on us and we rely on others. We all must play our part responsibly in our interconnected web if we are to achieve our goal of holiness.

One great thing that makes our lenten triple threat better than any sports triple threat is the fact we aren't limited to one option at any given time. We can, and should, practice all three together.

What spiritual practices are part of your lenten triple threat this year?

Not-so-ordinary time

Green is the colour
Ordinary time is is the game
We're all together
And praying is our aim

For those of you familiar with the tune for which I changed the lyrics, you're most welcome for getting that stuck in your head until lent. For those of you not familiar with the song, take a listen. You're welcome too.

The Catholic Church's liturgical year is officially in ordinary time. It's time to get out the green. A parish priest once stated that green is appropriate for ordinary time because in nature, green represents growth. Springtime comes, everything turns green, grows and flourishes. So too should our faith—minus the turning green part.

Ordinary time is when we follow the progression of Jesus's ministry toward its ultimate goal of the resurrection. We get a glimpse, through the Gospel writers, into the ordinary, everyday life of Jesus, his followers and his ministry.

Hold it a minute. Jesus and ordinary don't really fit. I don't know about your life, but miraculous healings, turning water into wine, preaching to crowds numbering in the thousands that just won't leave you alone, feeding said thousands with a paltry snack, raising people from the dead, and walking on water are not ordinary occurrences in my neck of the woods. Well, maybe the walking on water part is, but there is two feet of ice on top of the water when we do it.

These are pretty extraordinary things, performed by an extraordinary person. And the beauty of the incarnation is that these incredibly extraordinary things have become our shared reality. Not only that, we are called to live the extraordinary through the gift of the Holy Spirit. Not only that, we are called adopted sons and daughters of God through Christ (cf Rom 8:14). Extraordinary!

Ordinary time isn't just filler between Christmas and Lent, or Easter and Advent. It's a time for us to answer what Blessed Pope John Paul II called our universal call to holiness. It's a time to use the ordinary events of life as chances to grow in our faith. It's a time to turn ordinary circumstances into extraordinary opportunities for holiness and service.

As Catholics, there's not much ordinary about ordinary time.

Restless

I'm feeling a little restless. OK, a lot restless. OK, a little stir-crazy.

The temperature this morning was -45C with the windchill (someone at work said that we were colder than Mars). This is after a December that saw an average temperature of -20C. At these extreme temperatures I don't leave the house more than I have to. I recognize writing this perpetuates every stereotype about the frigid Great White North, but it's not usually this cold for this long. Sure, we can brag, "That's what makes us prairie folk tough." But who really wants to be able to brag about freezing your extremities in nanoseconds?

The cold weather is keeping the kids inside too. Have I ever mentioned our kids are loud? I know, all kids are loud. I'm talking born without a volume control permanently stuck on 10 louder than a 747 and Pearl Jam concert in a gymnasium kinda loud. Oh, how I long for the children to play outside!

We affectionately call this restless feeling cabin fever, and it usually hits in February or March, near the end of a long winter. Being cooped-up so long so early has me feeling restless—I want to get out and enjoy the snow, go skating, point the toboggan downhill and go for a ride, even just go for a walk down by the river.

We know there are links to cabin fever, or seasonal affective disorder, and vitamin D. For some reason, our body cannot absorb enough vitamin D from the sun through 17 layers of thermal polyester, wool and Gore-Tex. Light therapy can also help clear up those winter blues. There are special lights—I swear I am not making this up—that can help just by spending time each day in front of them.

My restlessness has St. Augustine's famous quote, "Our hearts are restless until they rest in you," running through my mind. As I endure my physical restlessness, I ponder my soul's restlessness too.

The first thing that comes to mind is a question: is my soul restless for God? If it's not, that might indicate a problem, possibly spiritual aridity or worse, indifference. If it is, that is a good thing. Just like my cabin fever indicates I long for some outdoor activity in my life, my spiritual restlessness indicates I need some more spiritual activity in my life. It lets me know I need more God, more of His love, more of His grace, more of His mercy and forgiveness in my life. It reminds me I must continuously strive for holiness.

Just like the right nutrients, like vitamin D, can help seasonal restlessness, the right nutrients, like Jesus in the sacraments—especially Eucharist—go a long way to eliminate the spiritual blues.

Just like spending time in front of a special light can help alleviate symptoms, spending time basking in the light of Christ (aka prayer) can lift one's spirits and strengthen one's resolve.

Even though I may not be able to feed my physical restlessness with some outdoor activity longer than a 15 second dash to the car, I know I can take care of my spiritual restlessness by spending some time feeding my relationship with God.

May our souls find rest in Him!

Protecting innocence is of utmost importance

Katie innocently snuggled up to her grandfather in his hospital bed. She was oblivious to the concerned faces of everyone else in the room. She was old enough to understand, but she is severely autistic, and couldn't intellectually grasp the gravity of her grandfather's sever stroke. All she knew was grandpa needed a hug; he needed love and compassion.

Catholic journalist, best-selling author and speaker Michael Coren tugged the audience's collective heartstrings with the story of his niece's innocent love for her grandfather—love that he credits as a turning point in his father's recovery—recently in Saskatoon, Sask. He punctuated the emotional story with the contrasting world-view that many think "people like Katie" shouldn't be alive; they should be aborted instead of becoming a burden to parents and society.

Coren made it abundantly clear that intellectual and factual arguments need to accompany the personal, and often emotional, debate about an unborn baby's right to life. "It's not about religion. It's about science and about morality,"he said. "Life begins at conception. It's a scientific fact. Abortion is objectively terrible. It's killing millions of tiny human beings in what should be the safest place on earth—the womb."

According to Coren, there are three groups of people who are victims of abortion more than any other: the disabled, particularly those with down syndrome; people of brown or black skinned ethnicity; and women.

In our world, where the value of a human being is too often connected to one's economic contribution, it is tragically not surprising the intellectually or physically disabled are increasingly denied the right to be born.

The last two groups are often combined in countries or cultures where girls have lower social standing than boys. China and India, the world's most populace countries, are examples. China's one child policy  has left a generation of men unable to find a spouse because girls are often selectively aborted or abandoned at birth.

The fact girls are selectively aborted in great numbers makes it personal for those female pro-choice advocates who fight in the name of women's rights. Coren stated that making it personal is a necessary component of the equation for people to understand abortion is something more than an abstract concept for the enlightened; it's cruelly ending the life of an innocent unborn child.

Coren is unabashedly bold about standing up for what is right, for the right of the unborn to live. He stated that in comparison, all social causes—health care, education, welfare—pale in comparison. "It's the issue that matters most."

Learn more about Michael Coren
Book Michael Coren for a speaking engagement

What are you waiting for?

Her heart started beating faster as he walked down the aisle in her direction. "Don't make eye contact and he'll leave you alone," she thought.

He reached out her hand toward her. Me?

His gesture was obvious. Yes. You.

It was the first week of advent; my wife was eight-and-a-half months pregnant with our first child. The priest was notorious for randomly selecting people to answer questions or be part of his demonstrations. He kept us all on our toes.

As the two of them stood in front of the children who were about to be sent to children's liturgy, the priest used his very pregnant, very nervous guest as an example of someone waiting for something.

"What's she waiting for?" he asked the children.

The chorus of little voices responded, "She's going to have a baby."

"How can you tell?" was the follow-up, or set-up.

"Because she's fat," chimed in one innocent little voice, getting a hearty laugh from the congregation.

Two weeks later, the priest walked down the same aisle. This time to select a sleeping baby as his volunteer. He reminded everyone of the pregnant lady a couple weeks earlier and proudly held up our sweet little peanut—the wait was over, the joy realized, the hope fulfilled.

As new parents, we had no idea what was ahead. Sure, we read the books, we took the classes, we felt prepared. But any parent will tell you, that doesn't really get you ready. What lies ahead is unique for each parent, or each family. You have to experience and learn things in due time to grow into your role as parents.

So too goes the season of advent. It's a time to prepare for Christ to come—to remember His birth and to wait for Him to come again with hope. We can (and should) pray, read, go to Mass, serve in joyful anticipation. But the true preparation comes with the experience of advent, the experience of Christ and His saving love, the experience of His birth in your life every day. No book, can prepare you for the change Jesus wants to make in your life.

Just as a birth needs to take place for an expectant mother's anticipation, joy and hope to be fulfilled, the birth of the Christ child—literally and figuratively—needs to take place in each of us for the anticipation of advent to be fulfilled.

The question we each should answer is, "What are you waiting for this advent?" Are you merely waiting for the hustle and bustle of the season to be over? Are you waiting to experience the same thing you have for the past several years? Are you waiting for food and drink? Are you waiting for family and friends? Are you waiting for Jesus to be born anew in your life and to experience life like never before?

What lies beyond advent is a unique journey for each of us. May we prepare well, and experience life to its fullest.

40 reasons turning 40 is a sweet deal

Technically it's middle-age, and that term comes with baggage. But I consider turning 40 to be the sweetspot of life. So, in no particular order, here are 40 reasons I'm celebrating my 40th this week (and a hint on what I'm celebrating with).

1. I don't have to buy the cheapest beer or bottle of booze in the aisle anymore.
2. I can still eat Kraft Dinner (mac and cheese for you non-Canadians), but it's now a choice, not a necessity.
3. My kids are getting old enough to do things around the house and yard I hate doing.
4. My kids are still young enough that "Because I said is so" is a perfectly acceptable answer (most of the time).
5. On the continuum of starting and ending life wearing diapers, I'm the farthest from either end that I'll ever be.
6. It's OK if I don't have my ID when I go out for drinks.
7. If I do get asked for ID, it's a story to share with friends for months.
8. I'm still way to young to even consider the senior's discount.
9. I'm old enough to remember the good 'ol days.
10. I'm young enough to not refer to the past as the good 'ol days.
11. I don't have to worry about memory problems yet.
12. I know what a rotary phone is so I appreciate my iPhone way more.
13. I appreciate my laptop isn't the size of a suitcase.
14. I don't have to worry about memory problems yet.
15. I've seen and experienced enough pain in life to know I've got it good.
16. I've seen and experienced enough joy and happiness in life to know I'm blessed.
17. I'm young enough it's still OK if neighbourhood kids walk on my lawn.
18. I'm old enough that if I do tell kids to get off my lawn, they don't think it's too weird.
19. Grey is the new black (or brown, or red, or blonde) when it comes to hair.
20. I know "rad" is still the best word to describe something that's cool.
21. I have skillz to use a record player, an 8-track player, cassette player, CD player, iPod and Songza.
22. I remember when "crossover" vehicles where called station wagons, and we got to ride/play in the back of a wood-panelled one.
23. I have experienced an arcade, Atari, Intellivision, Coleco, many iterations of Playstation, Wii and online games.
24. I've been around long enough to not over-react when Netflix takes more than eight seconds to load a movie because I appreciate I don't have to drive to a store to rent a movie.
25. I'm thankful I no longer have to "be kind and rewind" after watching a movie.
26. My mini-van full of kids and a beautiful wife beats a convertible roadster mid-life crisis vehicle—hands down.
27. I remember the feeling of the wind going through my hair while riding my bike, but I realize the move to helmets is pretty darn smart.
28. I still have lots of hair for the wind to blow through if it weren't under a bike helmet.
29. It's still my choice if the kids beat me playing any sport.
30. If I reflect on what I've done in my life, taking a peak at the kids sleeping is the only answer I need to bring a smile to my face.
31. I can get down on the floor to play with the kids and still get up without throwing something out of alignment, spraining, straining or cracking something, or making a loud grunting-groaning noise.
32. Over the years, I've amassed a collection of tools large enough that I no longer have to run to the hardware store for every project. Hmm, now that I write that, I need to think of more excuses reasons to get more tools.
33. I get to go to cartoon movies without creeping out parents—as long as I go with my kids.
34. I appreciate how much better a 50" plasma HDTV is than a 12" black-and-white TV with rabbit ears and a dial to change the channel.
35. Moving back to my mom's every summer to save money for university is a distant memory. Score one for independence!
36. I am in the top 0.21% of the world's richest people according to the Global Rich List. Wow! That's eye-opening.
37. I've been driving my own car for longer than I wasn't able to drive (legally). Score another one for independence!
38. I get to pick where we go for summer vacations and road trips. Walley World in 2014! Holiday ro-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oad. Holiday ro-o-o-o-o-o-oad.
39. I still have the stamina to tie-one-on for a big celebration—like, say a 40th birthday party—and be able to get up early when one of my little human alarm clocks wakes the whole household.
40. After 40 years of messing up, Jesus still loves and forgives me.

So there it is. Like fine wine, a single malt scotch, and good cheese, I'm getting better with age. What are some things you appreciate about your sweetspot of life?