Observations From a Hospital Room

1. Hospital time is not the same as time everywhere else on earth. 60 seconds do not make a minute, and, "Oh, about 15 minutes," actually could mean any amount of time between 37 seconds to 2 hours, 49 minutes (give or take).

2. I wonder if there is a reason the hospital room toilet seat looks like the silhouette of a cartoonish clown face:

3. There are certain people, not many, but some, who cannot get beyond themselves and their own feelings to offer real support. They turn the whole situation around so that you end up comforting and supporting them through your difficulties. I wish there were a way to tell those people to bug off.

4. It's really, really, really important to remember the power of choice. For example, I wailed in a previous post about how my family has not eaten a meal at home together in 22 days. It begins to feel like we have to be at the hospital with Nathaniel. The fact is, we don't. A nurse told Lesley that she had to inform a married couple that their child had a severe illness, and would be in the ICU for at least 2 weeks. The nurse said that married couple then went on vacation for 2 weeks. They left contact numbers where they could be reached, but were out of state for the majority of their child's hospitalization. The fact is, we're at the hospital so much because we choose to take on that responsibility. I don't think anybody would consider us bad parents if we decided just "to take a night off" so that we could both be home together for a night. Nathaniel is important enough for us to make those sacrifices. Knowing it is my choice actually does make it easier to carry the burden.

5. In the hospital, boredom makes even the worst movies tolerable:

6. It was a really, really good idea to put a Wii in every room.

7. People do one of two things on elevators: 1) completely ignore you, or 2) talk to you as if you've been friends for years. (I'm not sure there is a middle ground between those two extremes.)

8. It's a lot easier to say that you believe God is taking care of you than to really, deep down, believe He is.

9. In those fleeting moments when you experience that deep down belief that God is taking care of you, there is "peace that surpasses understanding."

10. Staying overnight at the hospital with a loved one who is sick allows one to take a vacation from the reality of one's own powerlessness over the situation.

11. Hospital food really isn't that bad.

12. Sick people have touched the elevator buttons, too.

That's it for now. I may have more observations later. It looks like we may still be here for a while.

I Wonder If We're Capable of Making Any Other Type

Jacob at 1 week old:

Caitlin at about 6 weeks:

Nathaniel at 2 weeks:

A Gutteral Howl

I lost it the other night.

We had been told that Nathaniel would be able to come home with us on Thursday, 7/19. He had been recovering from the pneumonia that had wracked his little body since Thursday, 7/7, when his lung collapsed. They had reinflated the lung, but by Wednesday, 7/13, he had not made any progress in being able to wean down from the breathing machine.

They also noted that he had been losing blood due to natural attrition. Blood cells die after a period of time. He was not making enough blood cells to keep up with what is lost due to the natural blood cell life cycle.

They started a round of steroid treatments on Thursday, 7/14, that were to "kick start" his breathing and blood production. It worked. On Sunday, 7/17, the doctors told us that his breathing was sufficient to pull the breathing tube. His blood production picked up. Tuesday, 7/19, they told us he was looking so good that he would be able to go home on Thursday, 7/21.

Wednesday morning, 7/20, he developed an inguinal hernia. We were told no problem, fairly common in infants, docs had to deal with these all the time in newborns. He will be scheduled for surgery in 2 weeks. Hemophilia doc told us he would receive factor 8 (the blood clotting factor his little body doesn't make) infusions for 7 days prior to the surgery, and there wouldn't be any complications. We could still take him home.

On Wednesday afternoon, he spiked a fever. They took blood draws and realized he had a bacterial infection in his blood. The bacterial infection was caused by having been pricked, poked and IV'd so much that a bacteria got in. It is unrelated to the hemophilia, the pneumonia, and the hernia. The doctors came in around 9:00pm to tell Lesley what they had found, and to inform her that the treatment would be a minimum 7 day round of antibiotics given IV, which means that we would not be taking him home on Thursday. Lesley called me to tell me, because I was home with Jacob and Caitlin. We told each other that we loved each other and that we would make it through this, no matter what. We hung up.

Then I lost it.

My heart screamed at God. Inside, I was screaming things that I will never repeat in polite company. Anger. Frustration. Exhaustion. Loneliness. It all came out. A gutteral howl of pain.

About 1:00 in the morning, I wept myself to sleep.

The anger is still there. Deep down inside, I still feel it. I'm trying not to take it out on people, like lightening strikes. I find myself feeling angry everytime I pull into the hospital parking lot. I find myself wanting to blame people, the doctor who did the circumcision, the urologist who sent us home that first Sunday, the ER physicians who were trying to save his life but didn't even recognize that he needed blood, the doctors and nurses at the PICU, who have been nothing but excellent and supportive, but allowed my son to get an infection.

I find myself getting angry at the wonderful family and friends who want to support us. I want to howl, "LEAVE ME ALONE!!! You cannot possibly understand what this is like." I find myself wanting to howl at people who want to say comforting things that only sound hollow to me.

I'm just angry.

Is this grief?

I've lost the last 22 days of having my family together. I appreciate people trying to comfort me by telling me that my family is together in my heart. Bullshit. I want my family together in my home. My wife and I have not slept in the same house for 22 nights. We have not eaten supper together as a family for 22 days. We have not prayed together as a family for 22 days. We have not chilled in the living room watching Strawberry Shortcake while Jacob plays basketball on the fireplace for 22 days. I go 36 to 48 hours regularly without seeing my beautiful Jacob or Caitlin.

I'm tired. And I'm angry.

And right now, that's the best I can be.

Harry Potter: How the Movie Missed It

Spoiler Alert: if you haven't read the Harry Potter books or seen the last of the movies, I'll give away the endinng.

I'd like to begin by saying I love the Harry Potter series, the movies and the books.

I have to say, though, that I felt disappointed in the last movie. I felt they really missed the point. I don't really blame them. I think it's easy to get so focused on the idea that either Voldemort or Harry was going to need to die, that the true point was easily missed.

This is my disappointment.

At the end of the 7th book, Harry walks into the dark forest to sacrifice himself willingly and deliberately for his friends. Voldemort then has Hagrid carry the body out, where the final confrontation takes place. Before the final fight seen, Voldemort attempts to silence the crowds several times with a silencing charm, but for some reason, the charm just doesn't hold. Voldemort attempts to torture Neville Longbottom for his loyalty to Harry, but cannot harm him, even when he sets the sorting hat on fire on top of Neville's head.

Why were Voldemort's charms unable to hold the crowd or harm Neville?

Harry knows. Harry's mother sacrificed herself out of love for Harry, thus providing him with the protection that kept Voldemort from being able to harm him as an infant. Harry's willing and deliberate self-sacrifice out of love for his friends provided them the same protection. Because Harry died out of love for his friends, Voldemort's power was broken.

Ultimately, it became irrelevant whether Voldemort died or not. He could no longer harm those for whom Harry died. I wish this had been brought out in the film.

The Dark Lord's power was not broken because he died. The Dark Lord's power was broken because Harry died...for his friends...out of love.

I really wish that had been reflected in the movie.

I Believe God is Good

I'm not one of those Polly Anna a-holes who believes "everything happens for a reason." People like to say, God is letting this happen for a reason. If you believe that, please keep it to yourself. In the state I'm in right now, I might just punch you in the face.

People say, "Everything happens for a reason," in a feeble attempt to ascribe to God the crap that happens to them in their lives so they can feel better about getting crapped on by life. I don't really want to be the disciple of a God who gives little kids hemophilia and nearly causes them to bleed to death.

No. Sometimes, shit just happens.

So what do I believe about the goodness of God?

I believe that God knows everything, and since he knows everything, he is able to put things into place that make us able to get through anything, "without men's every discovering, from beginning to end, the work which God has done" (Ecclesiastes 3:11b).

For example, the night we had to rush Nathaniel to the hospital, Lesley was completely exhausted, but "something" inside of her kept nudging her to keep her from falling asleep.

For example, Lesley and I found out that the team leader of the transport team (who was the first to recognize that Nathaniel needed blood) was the most experienced, most qualified, and most respected member of the entire transport staff.

For example, years ago, Lesley was taken by her family to a general practictioner, who eventually became our children's doctor. He will be Nathaniel's primary care doctor, too. This family doctor, our family doctor, has hemophilia.

For example, God has surrounded me and Lesley with family, friends, coworkers, club brothers, and a host of other people who offer so much support and kindness to us.

God didn't want Nathaniel to get hemophilia. God didn't want Nathaniel to bleed almost to death literally. God didn't want Nathaniel to get pneumonia. If you have to ascribe a reason for Nathaniel's illness, then the reason is original sin. All of these are the result of that original sin that separates all humanity from God. If we were in perfect union with God, Nathaniel would not be sick.

Nathaniel's illness is a result of the original sin. All of the good things we have experienced since finding out about Nathaniel's illness are gifts from God to help us through Nathaniel's illness. God was at work, even years ago when Lesley was still a child, putting things in place that will help see us through this. That's the goodness of God.

God cannot take away the cross. Suffering in this life is the result of original sin. So what He did instead was even more wonderful. He made the cross, suffering, our doorway to unity with Him, where there will be no more suffering. And he puts those people in place, the women of Jerusalem who comfort us, the Simon of Cyrene's who help us carry the burdens, and the Roman centurion's and the good thieves who tell us that they believe in us, to help us through the cross to the resurrection that awaits us on the other side.

It's Good Friday right now. It's hard. It's very hard.

I'm comforted by two things:

I am not alone. God is there, and so are those whom He has placed.

And I know Easter Sunday is coming.

In Sickness and In Health

Jacob can be so funny.

Last night he was eating some waffles as a mid-evening snack (I am in the running for the Father-Of-The-Year award, and I'm pretty sure it's determined by the vote of the children?). Mouthful of waffle, he looks up at me and says, "Dad, I just don't know very much about you and mom's wedding."

I said, "Well, you were there. Don't you remember it?" He was nine months old.

"No, not really," he said, "maybe a little bit but not very much".

"I think we have a DVD around here somewhere of our wedding. Do you want to watch it?" I asked.

"I think I'd like that," he said, wrinkling his brow, thinking about it deeply. So we dug around until we found the DVD Lesley's aunt made for us, and watched it before bedtime last night.

I had forgotten that on our wedding day, I was sick. I had one of the worst cold's of my life. My voice was scratchy and crackly. I had difficulty breathing. Lesley gave it to me as an early wedding present.

It occurred to me as I watched myself say those words, "I promise to be true to you in sickness and in health," that the wedding vows really don't stipulate specifically who is sick.

I think often we hear those words (or speak those words) and interpret them to mean that we will care for our spouses whether whether they are sick or healthy. We are called to be just as true to them when we are the sick ones. What if it were Lesley's mother or father, or my mother? My vow is no less in force.

I'm sitting in the hospital room with Nathaniel, who is up and down. I am called to love my wife through his sickness, too.

I'm not sure exactly what that means right now, because I don't know how Lesley is going to need to be loved through Nathaniel's illness.

Isn't that part of the adventure? What an act of faith! Lesley believed me when I told her I would love and honor her all the days of my life. It's a good thing she didn't know on that day that I don't have the slightest clue how to do that. The other fact is, I'm very lucky, because Lesley is pretty good at letting me know how.

Ultimately, marriage is the beginning of the grand adventure. When husband and wife pledge those vows that day, they don't know what the future is going to bring. There's absolutely no way that I could have predicted having a child be as sick as Nathaniel is. But that's ok. My promise holds, and so does Lesley's. We will be true to each other, love and honor each other, in good times and in bad, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, all the days of our lives. We will teach each other how to love each other for the rest of our lives, and through anything that this beautiful, funny life might throw at us.

And that's very comforting to me.

The Whole Story

This is more for my benefit than anyone else's. I've often found writing things out to be therapeutic.

Day 1: Thursday, June 30, 2011
Lesley said she had been having contractions nearly all afternoon, but didn't make a big deal of them. She actually saw our Ob/Gyn (who coincidentally is the wife of the doctor who would circumcise Nathaniel a few days later). Lesley told me that the Ob/Gyn was going to check on any dilation in the cervix, but stated that the cervix hadn't dropped at all, and so didn't bother.

After the appointment with the Ob/Gyn, Lesley and I went to pick up the kids. We went home, changed clothes, and took the Jacob to his swimming lesson. Before the swimming lesson, we ate supper at the Pizza Haus on McCarty. Swimming lessons over, we went home, gave the kids baths, and got ready for bed.

First I put Jacob down to bed. He goes to sleep by himself, but I usually lay with him for 5 or 10 minutes before letting him drift off. We small talk about the day and whatever is on his mind.

While I'm laying down with Jacob, Lesley usually lays down with Caitlin, doing the same. Girl talk and lots of giggling come from Caitlin's room. I went to bed and fell asleep by about 9:45pm. Lesley came in and I felt her get in bed with me about 10:10. 10:15, she rolls over at taps me on the shoulder, "Honey?"

"Yeah," I respond.

"My water just broke."

Race was on. Lesley got up and got herself and her stuff together. I went and got Jacob out of bed. I told him that we needed to go the hospital because Baby Squirt was about to be born. Jacob asked what was going to happen. I told him that Mima and Papa were going to meet us at the hospital and be with him and Caitlin, while Daddy and Mommy brought Baby Squirt into the world. He started rocking back and forth in his car seat, squeezing his hands into fists and kicking his legs. "I'm so excited," he said, "I get to see Mima and Papa."

Caitlin slept through it.

We got the hospital and Mima and Papa arrived. My mom, whom the kids call Mammy, came, too. They took Jacob and Caitlin out into the waiting room.

Lesley's Ob/Gyn came in, shocked that we were there since Lesley had just seen her earlier that day. The doc asked if we were ready to have a baby. I said, "Ready or not, here we go." Lesley asked if we could wait until July 1. The doctor just stared at her. Lesley explained that one of her best friends' birthday is July 1, and she would like to wait, if she could, so that the baby would be born on her friend's birthday. I explained that Lesley just really wanted the child's birthstone to be a ruby. Lesley stated this was an added benefit, but not her primary motivation. Well, the docs and nurses took their time, and eventually came and got Lesley to take her to the Operating Room.

I eventually got called into the operating room, where they had Lesley laid out like Jesus on the Cross, arms out stretched. They hung a curtain up across her mid-section. At 12:01, they asked, "Would dad like to tell everyone the sex?" I figured this meant they already had the kid extricated from Lesley's innards.

Nope.

I peaked over the curtain and the kids was shoulder deep in my wife. I got to see something that was slightly traumatizing, my child being pulled out of my wife. I quickly shouted, "It's a boy," and sat back down before I fainted.

Nathaniel was born at 12:01 am, July 1, 2011. By all outward appearances, he seemd perfect. When they took him to the nursery, I followed him as they stitched Lesley back up. In the nursery, the doctor and the nurse did the preliminary examination. "Perfect," the nurse stated. "Crap," I responded, "If he's already perfect, he's got nowhere to go but down." I was joking when I said that. Now it seems strangely prescient.

We finally got back to the room around 1:30 in the morning. Lesley's mom and dad took our kids with them to their house. My mom went home. Everything was awesome.

Caitlin slept through it.

Day 2: Friday, July 1, 2011
Nathaniel was perfect. We had a few visitors. People were very kind to wait to visit after Lesley had just had major surgery and needed rest. Uneventful, perfect first day with our son.

Day 3: Saturday, July 2, 2011. Started out wondefully.

Jacob and Caitlin and I spent the morning at the hospital. Around lunch time I took them out to get them something to eat and let them blow off some of their young, restless energy. While I was gone, about 12:15, the doctor came to get little Nathaniel for his cirumcision. About 45 minutes go by, and Lesley asked the nurse how things went. "The doctor will be coming to see you in a bit," was the only response she received. Of course, that set her mother's intuition into high gear.

1:30, still no response from the nurses.

2:30, no response.

About 3:00, Lesley goes into the nursery, and demands to be told what's going on. The doctor informed her that he had circumcised Nathaniel, but wasn't able to get him to stop bleeding from the circumcision site. They had decided to call the Women's and Children's Hospital in Columbia, and have him transported there where there would be pediatric specialists who would be able to manage the situation more competently than the they could.

Lesley called me. I had just returned and was pulling into the St. Mary's parking garage when the phone started ringing. She told me what was going on. We called, once again, her parents to come and get our children.

Lesley demanded that she should be discharged so that she could go with Nathaniel to the hospital in Columbia. They discharged her. However, the transport from Columbia would not allow her to ride in the ambulance with Nathaniel, so Lesley and I followed in the van, sometimes at speeds around 100 mph, in order to be there when they took him off.

They took him to the Emergency Room rather than the pediatric unit. A urologist arrived, who I have come to distrust inherently. She put stitches into his penis where the circumcision site was, and the initial evaluation showed that the doctor who did the circumcision had knicked a vascular gland. Because the head of the penis is such a vascular area, it caused excessive amounts of bleeding. The uroligist was ready to discharge us that evening.

Providence intervened. (That happens a lot during this story.) Lesley had tested Group B Strep positive, and the normal treatment for children who are born to mothers who are GBS positive is to observe them for a full 48 hours after birth. Well, because 48 hours would not be up until 12:01 am, July 3, they decided to keep him over night. They continued to repack the gauze, but never gave him a transfusion. They said they had slowed the bleeding to the point where it was no longer a threat to him. They sent us to a floor on the pediatric unit where we spent a very peaceful evening.

Day 4: Sunday, July 3, 2011

The morning was uneventful. We were told about 10:30 that Nathaniel would be discharged and we could take him home about noon. Noon came and went, and there we sat. The nurses continued primary care of him, but taught Lesley and I how to apply the vaseline seal and wrap him in the diaper to minimize the ongoing bleeding. Finally, at 3:30 in the afternoon, we walked out of the Children's hospital.

We arrived at Lesley's mom and dad's house to pick up Jacob and Caitlin. We changed Nathaniel's diaper about 4:30. There was some blood, but we were told to expect that. Mima held him after the diaper change. About 5:00, we decided to head home. When Lesley took him from her mother, Nathaniel had bled through his diaper, clothes, and basically covered the front of Mima's shirt with blood.

We didn't know what to make of it. My guess was that he peed, and because there was some blood, his pee had turned red because of the blood. Nathaniel's color was still good. He was still responsive. We changed his diaper, packed the vaseline gauze the way were told, and went home.

About 7:30, another diaper change. More blood. We packed the vaseline gauze the way were taught.

About 10:30, another diaper change. More blood. Except now Nathaniel was feeling cold to the touch and looking a little pale. We packed the vaseline gauze, put warmer clothes on him, and wrapped him tight in a warm blanket. Jacob was mis behaving pretty badly, so he had to go to be by himself that night. No daddy to lay there with him. Instead, I laid down with Caitlin and Lesley, who was totally, physically exhausted, laid down with Nathaniel.

I fell asleep in Caitlin's room with her.

Lesley, despite being totally exhausted, just couldn't seem to fall asleep. Another moment of divine meddling.

At midnight, Lesley came and woke me. "Will you come and look at Nate?" she asked, "Something's wrong." I went and looked at him.

Terror.

I've been with people as they were dying. I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that my son was dying. His skin had turned snow white. His breaths were shallow and rattling. He was non-responsive, even to a pinch, and his eyes seemed to role into the back of his head when I would force them open. I knew my son was dying.

We called the emergency number we had been given for Women's and Children's Hospital. The nurse who I spoke to the first time told me to call the pediatric unit, and gave me the number. So I called that number, and got an automated answering machine. I cursed, and called the emergency number again. A different nurse spoke to me this time and I described Nathaniel's condition. She only confirmed what I already knew. We needed to get to the ER as quickly as possible.

I told Lesley to call her parents to come to the house to take care of Jacob and Caitlin and to get her things together. While she did this, I took Nathaniel into the bathroom and baptized him. I didn't want Lesley to know that I knew our son was dying, so I didn't tell her what I was doing. When we came out of the bathroom, Lesley asked what I was doing in there. I told her, "I baptized him." I gave him to her to hold at that moment. (For my reasoning behind having his mother hold him, see my blog below, Song of Songs 8:6.)

Lesley nearly fell down she began crying so hard. Lesley's parents arrived shortly after. Lesley asked if we should put him in his car seat. I said, "No, you hold him." Again, see my earlier post about that.

We rushed to the hospital, again, I was driving easily close to a 100 mph to get there. We arrived and the receptionist began walking us through the process of registering. At that point, a nurse peaked through and saw Nathaniel. She walked out, felt him, searched for his pulse, and said, very calmly, "We can finish this later, you come with me."

We went to the ER and within 15 seconds there were about 20 medical people gathered around our son. One of the nurses stepped back to us and asked us if we would like them to call pastoral care.

I cannot describe in words the stress of that night. I'm not even going to try.

I will say this, the normal body temperature is 98.6 degrees. Fatal body temperature usually is considered around 86 degrees (that' when the brain starts shutting down). Nathaniel's was 90 degrees. A hemoglobin count measures the number of hemoglobin proteins in your body that carry oxygen. A normal count will be above 10. 6-8 is considered critical. Less than 6 is considered fatal. Nathaniel's was 3.9. Hematicrit measures the amount of oxygen actually in your blood. A normal range is 31-55. 31-26 is considered critical. Less than 26 is considered fatal. Nathaniel's was 10.

By the numbers, Nathaniel should be dead.

Eventually, the transport arrived. The leader of the transport team, Louise, whom they called, "Weezie," took 1 look at Nathaniel, and in a kind of a "Well, duh," tone said, "This kid needs blood."

They gave him a transfusion of 25 cc's of O negative blood there at St. Mary's. It was like magic. His color turned pink. His eyes opened and he looked around with a "What the hell's going on now?" kind of look. He became responsive to pain.

They wrapped him in cellophane (I kid you not) to preserve his body heat, the little he had. His temperature at the ER was 90 degrees. We were rushed to pediatric ICU at Women's and children's, and arrived there right about 12 hours from the time we were discharged.

They gave him another 25 cc's of blood (which is the appropriate "unit" of blood for a baby of his weight). They continued to work on him until about 5:30 in the morning. They finally turned to us and said, "He's going to make it." I immediately offered, from the deepest part of my being, a prayer of thanks to God for sparing my son, and sparing me the sacrifice I thought he was calling me to make (blog: A Father's Love).

Day 5: Monday, July 4, 2011.

Lesley and I slept for about 2 hours. We awoke to find him receiving another 25 cc's of blood. He was intubated at this time. The doctor's stated that all indicators pointed to the fact that he had a blood disorder, possibly hemophilia.

We spent a lot of time that day praying, watching, waiting, doing nothing.

It was about 7:00 pm that evening when the Pediatric Resident physician came and confirmed to us that Nathaniel did have hemophilia.

He asked if we had any questions.

I couldn't help but laugh. Questions. Where do I start? Maybe with, "Why the hell did you people discharge him on Sunday when you knew that his blood count was off and there were some screwy numbers in his indicators?"

I sat there stunned.

Day 6: Tuesday July 5, 2011

Nathaniel received his first infusion of "Factor 8", the clotting factor that his little body does not make.

When a healthy person gets a cut, a series of dominoes get knocked over. Each of those dominoes is called a "Factor". When they have all fallen, the blood clots, a scab forms, and the person stops bleeding and has a protective, natural "bandaid" over the wound.

Nathaniel's body does not produce (or if less severe does not produce enough) of the 8th of those dominoes. That means when he gets a cut or a bruise or a high impact injury, the clotting process starts. When it reaches the 8th domino, however, the process stops, because he is missing Factor 8. Nathaniel's hemophilia does not cause him to bleed faster than anyone else, but because his blood does not clot to form the scab, he doesn't stop bleeding. As the events of Saturday and Sunday attest, he will eventually bleed out and die, unless some kind of intervention is provided.

The wonder of science is that they have been able to isolate each of the dominoes, each of the factors, and can give Nathaniel infusions of the specific factor his body is missing, which in turn allows the process to continue.

This day was pretty uneventful. Adjusting to the knowledge that Nathaniel has hemophilia was easier for me than it was for Lesley. My attitude was, now that we know, we can plan. It was the not knowing that was so painful to me. I knew, even before the hemophilia specialists told us in our first visit, that it would be important to help Nathaniel lead as normal a life as any other child. Protecting him in a bubble would only hurt him worse than the hemophilia in the long run. I made a lot of jokes about him not being able to ride a motorcycle, get tattoos or body piercings someday. Lesley took to those ideas fairly easily.

We met the hemotologist with whom we will be working through the Hemophilia Treatment Center, heard about the different types of hemophilia and different severity levels. We learned that it would be a month before they would run tests to determine Nathaniel's severity level, because he had the transfusions. It's necessary to make sure that he has processed the blood that is not his and it is out of his system before running tests. If we're going to know the severity of his blood disorder, we have to make sure that we're testing his blood.

Day 7: Wednesday, July 6, 2011

More adjustment and learning. Pretty uneventful. The doctor was even discussing the possibility of moving Nathaniel to the regular pediatric unit the next morning.

Day 8: Thursday, July 7, 2011

Early in the morning, before dawn, Nathaniel started to struggle. His blood oxygen saturation number was dropping regularly. It would drop; the nurses would come in, and give him a higher percentage of oxygen in his air. He would improve for a little bit, then it would drop again and the cycle would repeat.

They decided mid-morning to give him a a stronger air support, so they put him on what was called a high flow with a long pronged cpap. It helped. For a while. The cycle continued, and pretty soon he was up again to receiving 100% oxygen through the cpap. The doctor came in around noon to tell us that Nathaniel had developed a bad pneumonia, and that his right lung had collapsed. The collapse of his lung had created a vacuum in his chest, which caused his heart to shift to the right side of his chest, rather than center left. The doctor also explained that Nathaniel's heart rate, due to the stress of breathing and the shift, had spiked several times, which led to the fear that he may have a cranial hemorrhage, or bleeding on the brain. This is common in severe cases of hemophilia when the hemophiliac is under high physical stress, as Nathaniel was.

Worried sick.

The doctor said that they were going to reintubate him with a tracheal tube into his lungs, and that they would begin a process that would take several days of sucking out the mucus and fluid (affectionately known as gunk) and reinflating his right lung. The doctor said that by reinflating the lung, the heart would move back into the correct position.

When the process was over of reintubation and the first gunk extraction, they did both a head ultrasound and a chest ultrasound. The chest ultrasound came back fairly quickly. Strong heart, no internal bleeding. It would be ok once the lung was reinflated.

Lesley's parents were there, and we played cards in a feeble attempt to get our minds off the possibilities. Finally, around 7:00 pm, the doctor came in and told us that there was no bleeding in the brain. Thank you, God, again.

We went to bed that night knowing that, IF NATHANIEL SURVIVED THE PNEUMONIA, there would be no permanent brain or cardial damage.

Day 9: Friday, July 8, 2011
More watching and waiting and learning. Learning about hemophilia. Watching Nathaniel's progress in very small increments to a healthier lung. And waiting for his little body to do what they wanted it to do.

And here we are, at the end of day 10, Saturday, July 9, 2011. And we are still waiting and watching. This is the mode we will be in for the forseeable future. Nathaniel has to determine the progress at this point. He is out of the woods. He is not currently in danger of death, but that doesn't mean that he won't be if the pneumonia strikes back. His lung is looking for more clear each day. We saw an X-ray of his chest, and his heart has moved back to the center left position. Please no political jokes about that.

It is a miracle that Nathaniel is even still alive. I know that it is due to all the prayer warriors out there who have been storming heaven on our behalf. The doctors and nurses at Women's and Children's have been so kind to us. They keep saying, "Now I know there are other places you'd rather be."

I respond, "Maybe, but I would rather NOT be at my son's funeral."

Anyway, there's the whole story. Thanks, it helps getting it off of my chest.

A Father's Love

I hope that no one took my words wrong in my previous post, believing that I was suggestng that as a father, I am not bonded to my children, or worse, that a father does not love his children. Nothing could be further from the Truth.

The Truth is, I cannot love my children the same way as their mother. But I'm not supposed to.

If a father's love and a mother's love were the same, then God would not have "created them male and female." We would all be the same gender. No, instead God created us "in his image, male and female he created" us. The father plays an essential, complimentary, and no less important role to the mother.

As a father, I will always be the outsider, the other in the trinity of the divine institution of the family, Father, Mother, Child. That's because God is the Other. The father is the image of God the Transcendent, who is outside of us, watching over us, protecting us, looking at the big picture.

A mother, on the other hand, is the image of God the Intimate, who comforts us, holds us, is within us, and nourishes us.

In the events that took place this last Sunday evening with Nathaniel, as a father, I had a very important role to play. As I held my son under the baptismal waters, I was Abraham sacrificially giving my son back to God. (Thank God, like Abraham, God spared me that sacrifiice.) As I drove to the hospital, as Lesley was holding my son (and I believe holding his soul bound to hers), I was praying, "Lord, into your hands I commend his spirit." Because I am father, I am the one called to give him up in sacrifice, or at least be prepared to.

Please don't take these words in the sense that I did not want my son to live. King David prayed through fasting and sacrifice for the life of his son. The child died anyway. King David rose from his prayer, bathed, and ate. When asked why he acted this way, he replied that God had seen fit not to answer his prayer, so what more should he do? This seems callous, but it's actually an image of a father who accepted the will of almighty God. That is my love as a father: to always be willing to obey God even to the point of sacrificing that which I hold most precious to me. Joseph, the husband of Mary, sacrificed his ancestral home, his livelihood, his own security for the sake of Jesus.

Another role I have as a father is to sacrifice myself for my wife, so that Lesley can fulfill her very special role of being the image of God the Intimate. What I wrote earlier was a celebration of that special vocation of hers as Mother. If I approach her relationship with jealousy over her place in my children's lives, I poison myself, my relationship with her, and my relationship with my children. So instead I celebrate her intimate, nourishing, life-gving bond with our children.

In the same token, Lesley should and does sacrifice herself for me so that I can perform my role as a father in the image of God the Transcendant. And believe me, she celebrates my transcendant, protective, life-giving role in our children's lives.

In the whole thing that went down Sunday night, Lesley and I each did our part as the image of God to which we are called by our vocation in marriage, equally, complimentarily, generously, stressfully, and most importantly, faithfully.

Song of Songs 8:6

A hemoglobin count measures the number of hemoglobin proteins in your blood that carry oxygen. Normally, a hemoglobin count of 6 means death. On Sunday night when we arrived at the ER, Nathaniel's was 3.9.

His body temperature was 90 degrees.

The doctors told us that bascially he had bled out so much that the only parts of his body that had oxygenated blood were his brain, his lungs and his heart.

When I was a priest, I was with people when they died. I know what death looks like. When Lesley came and got me on Sunday night and asked me to look at Nathaniel, I knew he was dying. I knew it with as much conviction as I know that I'm sitting here typing this. I honestly believed he would not survive the ride the 5 miles from our house to the emergency room.

We called Lesley's parents to come and watch our children, and Lesley began to prepare things to take to the hospital. While she was doing that, I took Nathaniel into the bathroom, and I baptized him. When I came out, I gave him to his mother to hold him.

Lesley's parents arrived. As we were getting into the car, Lesley asked if she should put him in his car seat. I said, "No, you hold him." She held him all the way to the hospital.

In my heart, I know that is what is saved his life.

Song of Songs 8:6

Set me as a seal on your heart,
as a seal on your arm;
For stern as death is love,
relentless as the nether world is devotion;
its flames are a blazing fire.

There is a bond that exists between a mother and her child, a love that grows between them and within them just as real as the body that grows in the mother's womb. This bond of love is strong as death, relentless as the netherworld.

I think Lesley, by holding her son, kept his soul in this world.

The love that a mother and her child have for each other is a spiritual reality. It cannot be comprehended cognitively. It cannot be touched or understood empirically. It can't even be felt emotionally. It is a spiritual reality, too deep for our feeble human senses to comphrehend.

I believe that Nathaniel could see the Angel of Death beckoning him on Sunday night. I also believe that between them was a force, stern as death, just as powerful, that kept Nathaniel from heeding that call, Lesley's love for him and his for her.

My son is alive because of his mother's love.

Why Glenn Beck Is Always Right

I’ve been listening to a lot of talk radio lately, liberal and conservative. I’ve decided that “talk” radio is actually a misnomer. I think “shout” radio would be a much better name. Anyway, the trip from Jefferson City to Columbia and back again provides ample time to hear what people have to shout about.

It always amazes me when I hear the pundits, liberal and conservative, defending their positions against callers and guests who would challenge the agendas they promote on their shows. They’re never defeated in an argument. They never concede a point. Glenn Beck is always right. So is Sean Hannity. And all the conservatives on 93.9 The Eagle. But equally so are Joy Behar, Rosie O’Donnell, and all the liberals who display their wears on 89.9 KOPN. They’re never wrong. Ever.

What I’ve found is a microcosm of our government. We’ve got the conservatives, the liberals, and those fewer and fewer in the middle. We’ve got gridlock threatening “government shutdown.” We’ve got absolutely nothing getting accomplished (which admittedly, I normally prefer as the government’s modus operandi, but with the fiscal crisis in which our country is currently, inaction does not bode well at this time). Why is there so much gridlock, not just in the government, but on talk radio? Why aren’t these pundits ever wrong?

I decided to listen more carefully, not to the subject matter of the argument, but to the actual manner of argument. I made an interesting discovery.

A presupposition is defined by 2 main characteristics. 1) A presupposition is something that you assume to be true, but that cannot be proven by tangible, observable data. 2) A presupposition is the foundation upon which you build your arguments.

Why is it important to understand what a presupposition is? Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Joy Behar, Katie Couric, and all the other pundits out there, conservative and liberal, argue from presuppositions. They do not allow their presuppositions to be challenged, and because they do not allow their presuppositions to be challenged, they cannot lose an argument.

This is the way it works.

I accuse you of hitting your spouse. You say, “I don’t hit my spouse.” I say, “Well, when did you stop hitting your spouse.” You start to say that you have never hit your spouse, but I interrupt you and demand that you answer a simple question, “When did you stop hitting your spouse? Answer the question. Give me a date.” You continue to attempt to inform me that you have never hit your spouse, but I continue to interrupt you, “Look, it’s a simple question. When did you stop hitting your spouse? Either you’ve stopped hitting your spouse, or you haven’t. I’ll make it even simpler, have you stopped hitting your spouse? Yes or no.” Now you can’t answer, so I call you a spouse abuser and refuse to talk to you further because I don’t waste my time talking to people who abuse their spouses.

My presupposition is that you hit your spouse, and I do not allow you to challenge my presupposition. During the course of the argument, I only ask questions that, no matter what answer you give, require you to accept my basic presupposition. You cannot win that argument against me.

That’s why Glenn Beck is always right. That’s why Joy Behar is always right. That’s why Bill O’Reilly never loses and argument. That’s why Rosie O’Donnell cannot lose an argument. They all argue in such a way that they force those with whom they argue to accept their basic presuppositions, without ever allowing their presuppositions to be challenged.

On a practical level, why is this important?

Our presuppositions form the basis of how we interpret our experiences on a fundamental, moral level. They guide our beliefs about what is right and what is wrong. For example, if your fundamental belief is that one is personally responsible for him or herself under all circumstances, the concept of the government providing health care will be repugnant to you. If, however, you believe that society has a responsibility to assist those who, for whatever reason, cannot provide for themselves, then you would believe that the government has not only the right, but the obligation to provide healthcare for those whom it governs. Another example: if you believe that one’s gender is an essential element in one’s personhood, then you would reason that marriage should be defined as only existing between a man and a woman, because only in that complementarity of the genders can a true marriage bond exist. If you believe, on the other hand, that one’s gender is inconsequential to the person’s fundamental identity, then you would believe that marriage can be defined as existing between any two people, no matter what their gender happens to be.

These core beliefs are presuppositions. They cannot be proven by tangible, observable date. They form the foundation of a line of argument that governs our actions and thoughts.

Our presuppositions govern our actions on a very practical level. The problem comes when we, like those pundits in the media, refuse to allow our presuppositions to be challenged. They are fundamental beliefs to us. We don’t like having them challenged. Just because they are beliefs, though, does not mean that they are correct.

I see bumper stickers that say, “Question Authority.” I hear it talked about, how we should “fight the power.” I rarely hear anyone talk about questioning the self. Are we as willing to put our own beliefs under the scalpel as we are everyone else’s?
One way of doing this is to find a basic presupposition we hold, and carry it out to its logical conclusion. If the line of reasoning leads to chaos, the chance is that our basic presupposition or belief is incorrect. For example, a presupposition that I’ve heard over and over is, “The government cannot legislate morality.” This is normally stated in more libertarian circles regarding illegal drugs, prostitution, the adult sex industry and other types of similar activities. The government should stay out of people’s personal lives. It cannot legislate morality.

Let’s follow that out. Morality is that system or code which tells me what I ought to do and what I ought not to do. If something is moral, it is something that I ought to do. If something is immoral, then it is something that I ought not to do. So to say that the government cannot legislate morality is to say that the government cannot tell me that there are things that I ought to do, and things that I ought not to do.

Well, the government tells me that I ought not to drive over 70 miles per hour. By legislating that, it has become an issue of morality. Someone decided for me that I should not ride my motorcycle 98 miles per hour up highway 63. I have personal health insurance. I wear a helmet. I have enough life insurance that my wife and children would be very comfortable if I were to die. It’s my life. Who is the government to tell me that I ought not to do this?

What’s more, there are certain people that I think would be just better off dead. Or at least, I would be better off if they were dead. Who is the government to tell me that killing people is something I ought not to do? If someone gets mad at me for killing his cousin, who’s the government to say that dude shouldn’t come to kill me? After all, the government cannot legislate morality.

The fact is that any act of legislation is ultimately a legislation of morality. The government is telling me that there are things that I ought to do (pay taxes, drive a certain speed) and things that I ought not to do (drive without insurance, yell, “Fire!” in a crowded movie theater). So the basic presupposition, “The government cannot legislate morality,” is an erroneous belief. If it were to be fully implemented, there would be chaos. The question then is not, “Can the government legislate morality?” but rather, “Since every act of legislation is a moral matter, what should be the moral standard by which the government legislates?”

The bottom line is this. If we are to ever get anywhere in this mixed up government, religion, you name it, we need to be willing to have our fundamental beliefs, those pesky presuppositions, questioned.

I believe in truth. Not my presuppositions. If my presuppositions are true, then carried out logically they will lead to harmony, (true) diversity, peace, and joy. You will know a tree by its fruits. If my presuppositions are erroneous, I would want someone to correct them, because what is not true will only lead to chaos and self-defeat. So from now on, I invite you with me, before we decide to dismiss Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Joy Behar, Rosie O’Donnell, Pope Benedict, Bill Maher, Sarah Palin, Barack Obama or whoever we find irritates us the most, to question the self. I’ll question my own presuppositions. You question yours. Let’s see whose presuppositions lead to the greater good. It might not be mine, but it might not be yours either.

Selling Indulgences and Buying Ministry

Allow me to set the stage.

Sin brings punishment (actually sin is its own punishment). Jesus Christ paid the ultimate price for our sins, and gave us the grace of forgiveness. In doing penitential acts like fasting, prayer and almsgiving, we unite our sufferings to the suffering of Christ, and therefore “in [our] flesh [we are] filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ…” (Colossians 1:24). Christ’s suffering was complete to win us salvation. I cannot receive the grace from this sacrifice of his suffering, however, if I am not united to it. What is lacking in the suffering of Christ is my union with him. Sin breaks that union. Penance is an act in which we ask that our unity with him be restored. In Catholic teaching, “indulgence” is the word that we use to designate the grace that I receive from doing an act of penance. An “indulgence” is a fancy word for the grace of forgiveness that I receive when I have done penance for my sin. Penance can take many forms.

St. Paul describes that within the unity of the Church, when one member suffers, the entire body suffers with it, and when one is honored, the whole body is honored (1 Corinthians 12:26). There is a sharing of grace and suffering. This means that one member of the Church can do penance for another. This does not exonerate another from doing his or her own penitential act of prayer, fasting or almsgiving. If I sin, I have to ask for forgiveness. It is a recognition, however, that we can benefit from others’ prayers. We all share in the suffering of one member’s sin, so we can all share in the honor of one member’s penance.

Ok. So penance is my way of asking Jesus to bring me back into unity with him, thereby washing away (the indulgence) the punishment of sin, which is the disunion my sin created.

In the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance, such acts of penance were done by different means, like participating in building a church, making a pilgrimage to a holy site, or fasting. When one performed a penitential act of fasting or prayer or almsgiving, the grace of reunion with the Lord was recognized. So how did it come about that indulgences, that grace of reunion, were sold?

There was this thing that was becoming widespread during this period of history called money. Prior to this period of history, most commerce was done through a barter system. If I wanted my hut’s roof thatched, I would barter my trade, perhaps metal working, with a thatcher, and we would trade our labor. With the advent of money, goods and services were no longer bartered. This affected almsgiving, as well. In the Middle Ages, almsgiving was not necessarily the giving of money. Usually when people brought their tithe to Church or gave to the poor, they gave produce or livestock. Perhaps a metal worker would make a plow and donate the plow to the local monastery so the monks could work the land to raise their own crops. A thatcher could donate the material and work of putting a roof on a church building or parsonage. With the increase of money, people could pay for goods and services. Money began to equal the good or service for which a person paid. A certain amount of money equaled a certain amount of goods. A certain amount of money equaled a certain amount of labor.

So this is where indulgences got twisted. If I’m a rich man in 14th century Europe and I commit a sin, I don’t need to do the act of penance myself. I can pay someone else to do it for me. I’m not necessarily doing the act of penance, but because of the unity within the Church, I can benefit from another doing it. The act is being done, the benefit of the grace is received. My money equaled the other’s act, so I “bought the indulgence”.

That’s why you would often see things like a “180 day indulgence.” That did not mean that if I paid the amount, I got 180 days off my “sentence of punishment” (which is what it came to mean over time). 180 days indulgence meant that I paid the amount to have someone do the act, work on a Cathedral, go on a pilgrimage, fast, for 180 days. Then, because money equaled labor, I got the grace as if I had done it.

Like I said, the concept of doing penance as a means of asking to be reunited to Christ got twisted with the advent of money. Little known to most people, the Church had taken steps to correct these practices in the Council of Toledo nearly 40 years prior to Martin Luther nailing his complaints to the cathedral door. The corrections had not spread to the areas of Germany, northern France, nor the Netherlands yet.

So that’s how the selling of indulgences became a practice. Money equaled action, and so by paying the money, I didn’t actually have to do the act.

How is this related as I suggest in the title to “Buying Our Ministries”? I think we can begin to fall into the same trap as those in the Middle Ages. There are many services out there of which we as Christians can be a part. These services need monetary donations, no doubt. These services need, just as much, volunteers to work in them. It can be a very easy thing to throw money at these services and call it a “ministry.” I think this is done in good conscience. I don’t think anyone is trying to get out of ministry. As a matter of fact, I think it is because we are overcommitted that we begin to supplant ministry with money.

This is the way I see it happening:

Christian (that’s the name of our hypothetical and faith-filled friend) has a family, and of course this is his first commitment to ministry. Working to feed his children, provide a roof over their head, and kissing their boo-boos, is as much feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, and comforting the afflicted as working in a soup kitchen. On top of this, he has a job. He goes to his home Church at least 2 times per week, and belongs to a prayer group because he knows that this small group of fellowship is also necessary for his spiritual growth. He volunteers to help with parish activities like chili suppers, pancake breakfasts, and other activities that come up. He’s thinking about a run for the church council position that’s opening up later this year. He also goes to the prison once a month to help his pastor with services. He’s involved.

So when Christian’s approached about volunteering once a month at the local food pantry or homeless shelter, he realizes he just doesn’t have time. Christian decides instead, that he’s going to donate $100.00 and let that be it. What’s the problem here? I don’t think there is one, until Christian begins to think donating the Franklin equals doing ministry. What Christian is doing is offering a tithe in almsgiving, which is also a penitential act. But it’s not ministry. Tithing and almsgiving are necessary; we are called to do them by our Lord. Tithing and almsgiving are not ministry.

This is the catch. It’s very easy to become complacent in our Christian lives. It’s very easy to say, “I’m too busy to volunteer at…” It’s very easy to think, “Someone else will shovel the snow out of my elderly neighbor’s driveway.” It’s also very easy to say, “I gave $100.00 to the Samaritan Center.” Jesus didn’t call us to do what’s easy. Jesus didn’t call us to stay in our comfort zone. Donating $100.00 to the local soup kitchen is necessary. It’s a tithe, an act of almsgiving, and goodness knows they need it. It’s not the same thing as pouring a bowl of soup while looking into a homeless man’s eyes. Giving money to St. Jude Children’s Hospital is necessary for our spiritual benefit (tithing) and for their work. It’s not the same thing as volunteering at the hospital to visit the sick or a local nursing home to visit an elderly person who has no one else who visits.

It’s important that we not begin to think that we can “do ministry” by offering a donation. Let’s keep that line clear. Both are necessary. We are called to tithe. We are called to give alms so that others can have food, clothing, shelter, medical care. We are also called to get out of our comfort zones so that we can be the one who feeds, shelters, clothes, and comforts our Lord in the least of these, his brothers.

Faith and Service

The thing that is most important to remember about the request posed by the disciples in today's gospel is this: FAITH FOR A DISCIPLE OF CHRIST IS A LIVING RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD.

I'm tempted in this reflection to start this next paragraph with the words, "Faith is not...", and then list all of the things that easily get confused with faith. I've decided not to go there. It's simple really: Faith is our living relationship with God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

If we have this understanding of faith, a lot of things begin to make sense. This is why faith is a gift. We cannot earn this relationship with God, because God is so far beyond us that we cannot bridge the distance. God must cross the distance and initiate this relationship with us. God has done this. Time and time again, God has done this. The relationship that we have with Father, Son and Holy Spirit is gift. Faith is a gift.

Think about Abraham for a second, "For what does the scripture say, 'Abraham had faith, and it was credited to him as righteousness." (Romans 4:3). Abraham had a living relationship with God. They walked and talked together, and this relationship with God, that God invited Abraham to know him intimately, and they spent time together, was what made Abraham righteous. God bridged the distance, and Abraham showed up.

For the Christian, this gift of relationship with God comes through Jesus. Jesus is the way for us to enter that relationship. He is the total revelation of God. So while God bridges the gap to all humanity, one can only enter into the deepest relationship with him, to know him fully, through Jesus.

So the disciples request, "Increase our faith." What they're really asking, although it's unlikely that they knew this at the time, is for Jesus to bring them into a deeper relationship with himself, and ultimately with the fullness of the Trinitarian God.

Jesus's response is unique to Luke. This request is recorded several times throughout all the gospels. But this particular response is unique to Luke. And what is the response:

Be of service to one another. Jesus speaks of the servant who comes in from the field after working all day, and then has to serve more when the master requests his work. This is our role, service to one another. Jesus tells the disciples (us) that if our faith is to be increased, that we should enter into the role of servant.

He adds something very hard, though: Do not ask for anything in return. Serve unselfishly because that is who you are as my disciple. Do not expect any reward, extra pay, "overtime." He might as well have said, "You are my disciples. I expect you to serve." Oh wait, he did: "This is how all will know that you are my disciples, that you love one another." (John 13:35). And when the service is done, we say, "We only did what Jesus asked us to do."

Christian faith is increased through service. Here's the trick, we don't need to look at national unrest or international catastrophes to find challenges to faith. We don't need to look at personal tragedies, like the loss of a job or the foreclosure of a home. No. To find challenges to faith we need only to look at the mundane, more subtle, more insidious challenges that we face everyday, and usually when things are at their best. I'm a firm believer that people have the deepest faith when they are faced with hardship. At least, that's when they pray the most.

It is the times when things are going well that we become complacent in our faith. "Everything's going great, God, so I don't really need you right now." If faith is a living relationship with God, it is not based on need or convenience. So, how do we increase our faith when everything is going well?

Service.

I saw an example of that today at the St. Andrew Parish fall festival in Holts Summit. I spent 4 hours in the kitchen making mashed potatoes. Everyone working in the kitchen was volunteering, as well as everyone serving the food and working the games outside. They were serving any who came for a meal. And everyone of them did it with a smile. They increased my faith by their service, and I joined in with the friendship and the laughter and the fellowship and the service and the faith building.

Here's my challenge, find a service project. If you want to deepen your faith and experience a relationship with Jesus that is alive and powerful, find a way to serve "the least of these." And don't go all wimpy by saying, "My family will be my service project."

I believe that service should first and foremost start in the family. But it's a cop-out if that's all you do. How about this, find a project for your family to do together. Volunteer at the Samaritan Center or Salvation Army. Volunteer at your Church. Get involved in Cursillo, Christ Renews His Parish, TEC, highway clean up, United Way, ... the list goes on and on. Look outside your normal circle of influence. The possibilities to be of service are really endless.

Serve, and do it as a Christian. Pray before you start; pray when you're done. Offer it as a living sacrifice to God the Father. Pause several times during the activity to bring to mind that you are serving because you are a disciple of Christ.

I'm going to find one. Let's hold each other accountable to be of Christian service. I promise, it will deepen your faith.

I'm posting the link to this reflection on my facebook page. If you want to join me as an accountability partner for service, comment on this link in facebook. Join me in Christian service. Let's take the Lord at his word. Let's deepen our faith through service. Let's do what he says to do so that our relationship with him will be alive in the Spirit who binds us together.

Are you with me?

Some Thoughts on Prayer and my GPS

We read things like this in the Gospel according to Luke: "And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives, and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish? Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg? If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in Heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?" Luke 11: 9-13.

When we read things like this, sometimes we can't help but think: "Yeah, right." For example, Lesley and I have been praying nearly two years that our house would sell. Ask and you will receive? How many unanswered prayers are out there. Desperate mothers praying for their children who are lost in the world of drugs and alcohol? People praying for a miracle to heal them from cancer? And in these economic times, how many unanswered prayers are out there for work?

How, then, do we understand these words?

The apostle James, gives us some insight: "You ask, but do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions." James 4:3. I have to admit, with Lesley and I and the house situation, we have been looking for a house that is within the credit range that we can afford, but that is much more house than we need. There's a great line in the movie "Shadowlands." The movie is about C.S. Lewis and his wife, who died of cancer. A friend of C.S. Lewis is talking to him about turning to God in prayer, and Anthony Hopkins, who plays C.S. Lewis, responds, "We do not pray to change God's mind, but our own."

There's another way to think about this. Allow me to be so bold as to paraphrase Jesus. "Which of you would give your son a venomous snake, if he asks for one?" Sometimes we don't give our children what they ask for because we know it wouldn't be good for them. They're asking for the wrong thing. Sometimes, God doesn't answer our prayers just as we pray them because we're praying for something that ultimately would be bad for us. God knows what is best. If we can hold on to our faith, we believe that God will answer our prayers in a way that is better than anything we could possibly wish for ourselves.

I'd like to put this discussion in a larger context. This thought came to me several years ago, and I've found it to be more and more true since then. I think God's answer to prayers is something like using a GPS. God knows the destination and the route. We're asking for directions, even when we don't quite know what the destination is. We have an idea. I know that Lesley and I want to provide an appropriate home for our children to grow up that will allow us to provide for them a Catholic education and an occasional vacation. God knows exactly where that place is. So I pray, listening for directions for God to position us in a place where He will be glorified in our family life. God doesn't give me the entire route at once. He gives me turn by turn directions. I have to listen for those directions, step by step.

Lesley and I were going to look at an open house one day, and we plugged the address in to our GPS. The GPS led us to the 179 and Missouri Blvd interchange that's closed down. We couldn't take the directions the GPS gave. That happens with God's directions, too, although it's usually not that we can't do what God asks. We just don't. (That's called sin.) If we're faithful, however, and return to listening to God, He says like that GPS system, "You are now off course. Recalculating route." And God gives us turn by turn directions to get us back to the right place.

Prayer then, becomes asking for directions, not asking for things. Instead of praying, "Lord, heal my loved one." We begin to pray, "Lord, show me how to bring Your healing to my loved one." Very different. My prayer has changed. Instead of praying, "Lord, give us a house." I've started praying, "Lord, lead us to the house that you want us to have, and lead the one to this house whom you want to buy it." Very different prayers.

Ultimately, Jesus gives the answer in the gospel. "If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in Heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask?" What we should be praying for is the Holy Spirit. "Seek ye first the kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added." Matthew 6:33. If we seek the Holy Spirit, pray for the Holy spirit, and listen for the Holy Spirit, every other prayer will be answered, although it may be in ways we didn't expect.

GPS: God's Positioning Spirit.

Mary and Martha

St. Augustine used the story of Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42) as an example of how the contemplative life was superior to the active life. Well, I don't want to take on St. Augustine, but I have often thought that this interpretation is one way to look at it.

I think another way to see this story is that Mary and Martha are actually two sides of one person. I'm not saying that Mary and Martha are make believe characters that are symbolic. I believe that they were two, very real sisters. I believe that their juxtaposition, however, demonstrates a dual reality that exists in all of us.

Martha was so busy serving the Lord, that she forgot to listen to him.

How many of us have done that? We get so busy serving the Lord in our work, family, church, community, that we forget to take time to just sit still at his feet and hear him speak to us. We take St. Paul's injunction to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians 5:17) as an excuse to never sit down with scripture, meditation, spiritual reading, and make time to listen to the Lord. We say that we "pray at every moment of the day even when we're doing other things." We should be doing that, but let me ask you this. If every time you wanted to have a serious, heart-to-heart conversation with someone you love, that person said, "Sure, we can talk while I'm at work (or doing laundry or fixing supper or watching TV or ministering or fill in the blank with any other activity), how that would that make you feel?

Jesus wants to speak to our hearts. He wants us to set aside the activity, even the ministry activities in which we participate, to have some time to just sit with him, at his feet.

Here's what Mary knew that Martha didn't. Jesus was a cool guest. When it was time to help fix supper, he would have said, "Hey, what can I do to help?" When it was time to clean up afterwards, he would have said, "Here, let me bring the dishes to the sink for you." When it was time to be involved in the activity, he would have been there, hands on, side by side with Mary and Martha. It wasn't time. It was time for Martha to set aside her active service of the Lord to be still in his presence for a while.

Jesus wants to spend time with us. The Lord of the Universe wants to be with us. Can you imagine that? We are important enough to him that he emptied himself to be with us. Is he important enough to us to set aside time to be with him, to have our attention solely focused on him, for just a little while each day?

The Good Samaritan

Somehow, for some people, "the man going from Jerusalem to Jericho" has been thought of as a Jewish man. Scriptures give us no indication, however, that the man sat upon by robbers was Jewish. Instead, he is just "a man." He could have been Roman, Greek, Egyptian, or any other ethnicity. Jesus begins right away to challenge us in this story. He completely ignores any divisions that may occur, and rather presents a human being in need of help.

Another thing I think unfortunate is that the priest and the levite who pass by the man have been impuned with cowardice. It's often explained that perhaps they were afraid that they, too, would be harmed if they helped this man. That may be, but it surprises me that it is so rarely mentioned that the priest and levite were actually following the Jewish law.

The man was beaten and left for dead. There must have been blood on the man. If they had helped the man, they would have violated the Jewish law concerning contact with blood, and would have themselves become ritually unclean. With this, they would have been ostracized from their communities and unable even to enter the temple or synagogues until they had completed the ceremonial purification acts, which as described in Jewish law, took an extended period of time.

They didn't help the man because they were obeying the law: a fact that would not have been missed by the "scholar of the law" to whom Jesus told this story.

It took someone who was already ostracized, a Samaritan, to ignore the "legal" consequences of contact with blood and to obey the more important law of God, "to love your neighbor as yourself." How often have we not helped someone who was in need because of fear thar we ourselves would be ostracized by others? I wonder if I have walked by on the other side of the road because I'm afraid of what others may think. When have we not done the right thing, because doing the right thing might mean being made fun of, losing status, or losing a friend? Or how often have we not helped others in need because we consider ourselves to be holy, and do not want to be "defiled" or made "unclean"?

We are called to love our neighbor as ourself. Jesus does not make a distinction about whom our neighbor is, any human being in need is our neighbor. Jesus does not make a distinction about what the need is, any person who is suffering. Jesus does not care about how righteous we think we are, the law of love is the supreme law. Jesus, the Son of God, who was eternally perfect and holy, emptied himself, took the form of a slave, and died on a cross in order to help us.

Now he gives us a very simple command, "Go, and do likewise."

The Pilgrim Church

Deacon Ramsay (St. Andrew Parish, Holts Summit) in his homily last night used this wonderful image (that he credited to his wife) of the Church as a caravan. There are those billions who have gone before us, untold numbers who will come after us, and here we are at our time and place in this great parade, or caravan. We rely on each other in fellowship, and follow the path that has been tread by so many before us, following Jesus Christ. With this image, one cannot help but think of the ancient Israelites in the wilderness.

They were brought from the land of Egypt through the waters of the Red Sea into their own pilgrimage, and moved as a great caravan across the wilderness. We were brought from our slavery to sin and anguish through the waters of Baptism into this caravan of the Church, and we move toward the Promised Land, which is far better than the land promised to the Israelites. When we reach our Promised Land, "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away." Revelation 21:4. Truly, "if for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all men most to be pitied." 1 Corinthians 15:19. That would be like the Israelites hoping that the wilderness would provide all that they needed to be happy.

There's the key!

That would be like the Israelites hoping that THE WILDERNESS would provide all that they needed to be happy...

...Rather than relying on God to provide what they needed.

How often are we hurt because we want THIS LIFE, which is our wilderness, to provide our happiness, rather than relying on God? So many things have converged on me. At our meeting for Road Riders for Jesus, and in several other areas, Pastor Gary Berhns, the pastor of Christian Fellowship here in Jefferson City, MO, has challenged me to think about why it is so difficult to trust in God. This is my response...because too often I simply forget, and put my trust in the wilderness.

But what a lesson in the pilgrim caravan of the ancient Israelites. "There is no food." "There is no water." "We don't have meat." God provided it all, not the wilderness. They wanted their needs met, and looked in all the wrong places, rather than trusting that God would provide. How often have I wanted my needs met, and looked to people, places and things of this earth to meet my needs! And how often have I been disappointed in this?

Every time I turn my gaze from my God and expect a person, place, or thing here on this earth to meet my needs, I am disappointed. "If for this life only we have hoped in Christ..."

But, really, honestly, in this great caravan of the Church, we stand on the mountain overlooking the Jordan to the promised land (Deuteronomy 34:1-3). We are at the cusp. Our lives, really, are so very short compared to the span of time of the world, and even less compared to God's eternity. We are so close to the end of our pilgrimage. And on this mountain top, I have seen glimpses of the promised land. And I look through the prisms of the signs of the sacraments of my Church, and I receive food for the journey in the fellowship of the caravan, every time we gather to receive the food that Christ himself provided in the wilderness (John 6).

And I am grateful, Lord, at how wonderfully you have provided for me. You have already given all that I need before I even ask (Matthew 6:8). All the people, places and things in my life are gifts from you to nourish me in this pilgrimage. Help me, Lord, to be for others, what you have allowed them to be for me. And thank you, Lord. Thank you for allowing me to walk this pilgrim journey with you. Thank you.

Pentecost Sunday

This is the holy day that brings to a close the Easter Season; the day we celebrate the presence of the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit that drove those 11 scared men out of that locked upper room into the streets of Jerusalem, preaching to all the world in each person's language (Acts 2:1-11) is still driving the Church throughout the world today. That same Holy Spirit is inspring the Church to proclaim today in every language the gospel of Jesus Christ. This is the reversal of the curse of the Tower of Babel. A people once divided has now become one again.

Isn't this what we pray for in every Eucharistic Prayer? In the Spirit and in the sharing of the one bread and one cup, that we may all be one.

Evangelization takes on a level of reconciliation then. This is the gift of the Holy Spirit as it is given in John's gospel, "He breathed on them, saying, "Receive the Holy Spirit, whose sins you forgive are forgiven; whose sins you retain are retained." The Holy Spirit is given to the Church for evangelization and reconciliation. In unity and fellowship, we proclaim the message of Christ. As a matter fact, the unity of our fellowship, the love we show one another, can be as powerful a witness as anything we preach. "See how they love one another," was the comment that so many pagans made in the time of Tertullian, the 3rd century bishop.

The Holy Spirit was given to equip the Church to empower the Church to complete it's mission of making disciples of all the world. But the Holy Spirit is also given to each of us individually. It is a restoration of that gift of creation. Adam did not become a living man until the Holy Spirit was breathed into him at that moment of creation (Genesis 2:7). That original unity with God, for which we were created in the first place, is restored.

We have the Spirit of God living within us when we accept Jesus Christ as our Lord. These aren't just words. God has invited us into a living relationship with him so intimate that he comes to dwell within our very being. The Holy Spirit lives within us, and guides us (John 14:26). My favorite image of the Holy Spirit within us is that the Holy Spirit is like a tuning fork, and we are the instruments. The Holy Spirit resonates within us at all times. When we make time in prayer to listen to the Holy Spirit, there is harmony in our lives, serenity, "the peace that surpasses understanding" (Phillipians 4:7). When we are not in union with the Spirit of God that indwells our hearts, there is dissonance, a troubled conscience, fear, hatred, anger, hopelessness.

Being in union with the Spirit means the original unity for which we were created is restored, but it also means the original unity we were to have with each other is restored as well. This is what Paul refers to in using the image of the body (1 Corinthians 12: 12, 13). We are all one in the Spirit, "So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any incentive of love, ANY PARTICIPATION IN THE SPIRIT, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the love, being in full accord and of one mind" (Phillipians 2:1, 2). Imagine an orchestra in which every person's instrument is out of tune and every individual member is playing his own song.

If each of us makes a point to listen to that Holy Spirit, while each of us may have a different instrument and be playing different notes, we will all be in tune with each other and the differences between us will create an amazing harmony in the world. "Let us make a joyful noice unto the Lord" (Psalm 95:1, Psalm 100:1). Or, as Paul puts it, let us be one body with many parts.

The Holy Spirit makes it possible to have peace when there is suffering, love when there is hatred, courage when there is fear, hope when there is darkness, and forgiveness when there is betrayal. The Holy Spirit is the Presence of God in the world, in our Church, and in our hearts.

"Come, Holy Spirit. Fill the hearts of your faithful. Enkindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit, Lord, and we shal be created. And you will renew the face of the earth.

"O God, who buy the light of the Holy Spirit instructs the hearts of the faithful, grant that by that same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever rejoice in His consolations, through Christ our Lord."

AMEN!!!

The Holy Spirit's Coming: Let's Get Ready

The Church is nearing the feast of Pentecost. We can tell because the readings for each Sunday are becoming more explicit in their mention of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is preparing to leave his disciples to return to his father. This great discourse in John's gospel that we've been meditating on for the last several weeks is leading us now to focus our reflection on the presence of the Holy Spirit.

In today's gospel, we hear the promise of Jesus to his 11 disciples (Judas had left by now). "The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I told you" (John 14:26). This promise takes on two layers of reality in the Church, or two levels of interaction. First, we cannot forget the context in which Jesus is saying these words. He is speaking directly to the 11 here, not to the entire community of disciples. These are his final words to those who would be leading his Church once he ascends to the Father.

These 11 were given this teaching authority. It's throughout the gospels. Jesus gave the authority to teach to these disciples whom he called (Mark 3:13-19). He sent them out over and over again as his representatives, in his person (In Persona Christi). They are the ones especially endowed with the gift to teach his message without error. These readings that we are hearing are the foundation for the teaching of the infallibility of the Pope and College of Bishops. The Apostles were given the authority to teach infallibly the message of our Lord. We see this acted out in a very real way in the first reading today from the Acts of the Apostles. The reading today is an edited version of the story we've been hearing in the daily readings for Mass throughout this week.

The argument arose in the early Church about whether the Gentile converts had to be circumcised and follow the Mosaic law in order to be Christian. As you can imagine, the Gentiles weren't crazy about this idea! The Apostles came together, and through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, gave the teaching that Gentile Christians only had to abstain from illicit marriage, not eat meat that had been sacrficed to idols, and avoid eating meat with blood in it.

The authority of the apostles was handed on to those who would come after them. There is passage after passage in the letters of Paul and James and Peter that describe the passing on of full Apostolic Authority to the Successors of the Apostles, including the authority to teach infallibly. This infallibility must be properly understood, however.

It's actually a misnomer to call it the "Infallibility of the Pope and College of Bishops." It is not the pope and college of bishops who are infallible. It is the teaching they offer that is infallible. The teaching is what is without error, not the teachers. The second thing to remember is that this gift of infallibility is contained to teachings of faith and morality. This why the Galileo debaucle happened. The pope and bishops attempted to impose their teaching on a matter of science. That's outside of their realm of infallibility, and it was proven. We see, however, throughout the history of the Church, that no matter how corrupt the pope or hierarchy may have been, we've never seen them pronounce a teaching of heresy. This is how we account for terrible things like the priest sex abuse scandal. The movement of these priests was not a matter of faith or morality, but an administrative decision. The pope and college of bishops can be in error adminstratively and scientifically. When acting in concert with one another, however, as the Successors of the Apostles, their teachings in matters of faith and morality are infallible.

This is the first level of this gospel reading: the authority of the Apostles (and their Successors) to teach infallibly.

The second layer is this: the promise and gift of the Holy Spirit is given to each of us individually, to guide us in our own private lives. You are temple of the Holy Spirit. Ultimately the presence of the Holy Spirit is a return to the original order of creation, when the Spirit of God was breathed into the first man, and brought him to life. More on this on Pentecost Sunday.

The Holy Spirit is coming! Actually, the Holy Spirit is already with us. We're going to begin a series over the next few Sundays reflecting on the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives. It is very important, however, not to lose the importance of the role of the Holy Spirit in the Church. We follow the teachings of faith and morality of the Pope and the College of Bishops. Preparing for the Holy Spirit's presence in our personal lives means also recognizing the power of the Holy Spirit in those who lead us in faith.

Suffering in the Kingdom of God

The Dalai Lama, in his book The Art of Happiness makes a very interesting comment. He says so many people, when suffering comes, ask the question, “Why me?” A better question, the Dalai Lama says, would be to ask, “Why not me? What great thing have I done that I deserve not to suffer?”

Here’s the fact: Jesus Christ, the only human being that has ever existed who was perfect by his own merit, suffered…and died…on a cross. What makes me think, when suffering comes, that I deserve anything less than He? St. Paul “strengthened the spirits of the disciples and exhorted them to persevere in the faith, saying ‘It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22).

Suffering comes to us. In this life, it is unavoidable. We suffer because of that original sin, which is passed on to us, and separates us from God. That original sin is the source of all suffering. So many times people ask, “If God is all-powerful, why does he allow suffering?” And, frankly, it’s offensive to me when people ascribe to God the cause of suffering. That happens in a lot of ways. The fact is that we suffer because we are separated from God, and that was not by God’s doing. Humanity as a whole chose to be separated from God, a choice that is symbolized in the story of Adam and Eve and that forbidden fruit. We, as a whole, have chosen not to obey God’s word of life to us. Suffering is the consequence of that separation from Him.

Here’s the good news. Our God did not and does not leave us in our suffering. Instead, through Jesus Christ’s suffering and death, God transformed what was the consequence of our separation from Him into the doorway through which we are united to him eternally in bliss. “I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, God’s dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them as their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away.’ The One who sat on the throne, said, ‘Behold, I make all things new’” (Revelation 21: 3-5).

“It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.” Why? First of all, because it’s unavoidable. Suffering comes whether we want it to or not. It’s the consequence of humanity’s choice to separate ourselves from God. Some might think, “I’ve never wanted to be separated from God.” Honestly, which one of us has never sinned?

But secondly, because it is through suffering that we are united to Jesus on the cross. When we unite our pain and suffering to the suffering of Christ, then we go through the suffering and deaths that we experience in life and are raised with him. “The saying is sure: If we have died with him, we shall also live with him” (2 Timothy 2:11).

How do we do that? The 100 billion dollar question, isn’t it? I know saying the answer is a lot hard than doing the answer,

We unite our suffering to the suffering of Christ first by the grace of acceptance. We accept that in this life, we are going to suffer. I think that a lot of sin that we commit is committed because we are trying to avoid suffering in some way. We lie because we see the suffering the consequences of telling the truth. We gossip because if we don’t, we might suffer by not being included with the ones who doing the gossiping. We hold on to resentments because we have suffered, and it makes us feel a little bit better to hate the ones who have caused us pain. I think it’s natural to avoid suffering. Some suffering cannot be avoided. I think the hardship of being faithful is a source of a lot of our unfaithfulness. When we make the commitment to prayer, how often do we hit the snooze button? How often have we missed church on vacation because making time to worship with the community would interfere with our good time? There's a grace that comes with spiritual maturity: the grace of acceptance of suffering, the grace of meeting life's on life's terms, not on ours.

In this, I’m not saying that if we get sick, we should say, “Oh, well, I can’t avoid it so I’m just going to lay here at let the sickness get worse.” That would be dumb.

When we get a headache, we can say, “I’m going to take aspirin to get rid of this, but until it goes away, I’m going to accept it and not let it make me grumpy towards my family.” My grandfather was recently diagnosed with cancer. His attitude is one of total acceptance, even while undergoing treatment. “This isn’t going to kill me,” he said, “and if it does, my number’s up. What can I do?” He’s undergoing treatment for it, and understands that the treatment is going to hurt. He has accepted this, too. If only we can accept that we are going to suffer, I think the suffering gets a little easier to bear because we stop fighting the suffering.

After we accept in grace that suffering exists, we can make a conscious decision to love in our suffering as Christ loved. Like I said, I may take aspirin to get rid of a headache, or chemo to try and get rid of cancer. While I’m waiting for my suffering to end, I will act in love toward those around me, rather than taking my suffering out on them. I will love as Christ loved on the cross, when he prayed for those who nailed him there.

And we can say a prayer in our suffering. “Lord, I really want our home to sell, so that I can provide a more appropriate place for my growing family. It’s not. Help me to endure with patience this situation over which I have no power, and unite it to your suffering for the good of my family.” Our suffering can become a prayer in itself, when we consciously make it so.

Our suffering, which was originally the result of our separation from God, can be the doorway by which we are more fully united with Him in His Kingdom. I know “the saying is sure: if we have died with him; we also shall live with him.” And “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away.” He has made all things, including our suffering, new.

Enjoying the Ride Called Life

Check out Pastor Ron's new blog "Enjoying the Ride Called Life."

Good stuff.

You can get to it over at the links section.