Seek and Find

Posted on May 18, 2012 by

The other night my niece and I were busy looking at one of those search and find books.  It was an animal version of Where’s Waldo.  The kind where there are pictures of various animals hidden in a cutesy animal scene.  We looked for 10 manatees, 7 macaws, 9 sea urchins.  When compared to the animals in the typical Minnesota backyard they were very different.  Which made me wonder if small children in Austrailia see pictures of black bears, whitetail deer and skunks and think what strange and wonderful creatures exist on the other side of the world.

As we turned the page we came to a particularly challenging image containing a bunch of birds, worms and 10 small snails.  We searched for a while counting and recounting the snails on the page.  Every time we counted we would find nine, but one measly snail eluded the both of us.  The worms were found with ease, the sparrows no problem, but the blasted snails did want to be found.  First my niece would count how many were found and then I would go back and confirm only nine snails.

After what seemed like an hour of searching (reality showed more like 10 minutes) the last snail still avoided being spotted.  I became obsessed with finding that last blasted snail.  All else in my life ceased to exist and all I was looking for was a round shelled mollusk hiding somewhere in a lovely English garden scene.  Still no luck.  My niece’s attention was starting to wane and she had moved on to the next animal in the line up which she found no problem.  I on the other hand still scanned for the snail.  My dog started to scratch at the door in an attempt to let me know she had to go out side.  I ignored her, finding the snail was more interesting.  I glanced up momentarily from the book to see my dogs sweet brown eyes looking back at me.  I decided that after I found the snail I would let her out.  My dog didn’t care if I found the snail or not, she wanted to go outside and outside now.  She walked back over to the door and continued to swat at it in an effort to gain my attention.

My dog’s attention gaining attempts failed, I was still too focused on that last snail to care about the condition of her bladder.  She could wait until I finished my search for the snail.  Meanwhile, my niece had finished finding all the other animals on the page and she was now wanting me to turn to the next page.  Despite my best efforts to tell her we needed to find the last snail she told me it was no big deal and we should turn the page. I finally agreed and turned the page.  The dog was let out to water the lawn and peace returned to the upstairs of my house.

There are times in all of our lives where we start to focus in on the small things that in reality aren’t all that important.  We start to fixate on the little thing others do to annoy us while forgetting about all they do to make us happy.  It is important to realize what issues are worth fixating on and what issues can be ignored.  Sometimes finding a new lesson in life is much more important than finding that tenth snail.  Just ask my dog.

How can you saw no to these eyes?

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What’s Good For the Goose…

Posted on May 7, 2012 by

Sums up my feelings for Geese

I’ve always had a sordid relationship with geese.  They don’t like me and I don’t like them.  It stated many years ago when I was a younger and I would walk along the banks of ponds and lakes in search of frogs and other aquatic life that interests young boys.  One fine spring day as I walked through the tall grass, I stumbled a mother goose sitting on her nest.  The goose fearing me a predator spread it’s wings, stuck out it’s little goose tongue, hissed, and then proceeded to chase me as fast as a goose can run all the way across the lawn.  From that moment on I have had a hate/hate relationship with the dreaded Canadian goose.

However, I will admit that I love ducks.  They are so well behaved.  When you walk up to a pond that a flock of ducks call home they are more than willing to get out of your way as your approach the waters edge. The ducks will quickly move to the water and give you an apologetic quack.  It is as if they are saying sorry for being on land and taking up the space you were wishing to occupy.

I was contemplating my relationship with geese and ducks the other as day as I was out riding my bike. I rounded a corner and spied a pair of geese standing next to a marshy area near the road.  The closer I got to the geese it became apparent they were not going to get out of my way.  The old mother goose stood her ground, and despite my being many times her size and riding a shiny bike, her tongue came out and she hissed at me.

I coasted by the hissing goose and my blood pressure began to rise.  My hatred of the flying sky carp returning to the forefront of my brain.  After passing,I glanced back and saw the goose still standing next to the road tongue sticking out and wings flapping.  I contemplated turning around and giving the goose a piece of my mind, but thought better of it and returned to my bike ride.  My blood pressure slowly returned to normal and I started musing about my relationship with the goose.  I looked at it from all angles and started to realize that my hatred of these birds might be misplaced.

I mean here was an animal that despite seeing a man clad in spandex balancing precariously on two skinny tires, decided to hold her ground and hiss at me.  Telling me that I don’t belong in the marsh and that it is time for me to move on.  She didn’t back down despite the threat I posed (and I look pretty threatening in spandex).  I then thought back to all the other geese attacks I had been subjected to in my life (and there have been a lot), every single time the goose wouldn’t yield despite the threat.

My hatred of the goose slowly started to become admiration.  I began to realize that I shouldn’t hate the goose, but rather admire them for their determination to stand firm when under attack.  I need to be more like the goose in my own life and less like the duck.  If people come at me for my beliefs I need to stick out my tongue, hiss, and flap my wings.  Well not really, but I do need to  stand firm and defend my beliefs no matter the threat.  Sometimes life’s littles lesson come from some pretty unusual places.

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Everyday I’m Shuffling

Posted on April 27, 2012 by

I was listening to my iPod the other day and had a momentary flash of genius.  Well all of my thoughts border on genius so I guess I could just say that I had a thought.  I had set my iPod to shuffle and was listening to my favorite songs scroll slowly by as I worked on my computer.  I listened to a few songs by Nirvana, then Ray Charles, a couple of classical tunes and then some weird European dub step thing (it was a late night purchase from ITunes).

As these songs were played in random fashion I couldn’t help but notice something.  As soon as one song would start, no matter how much I liked it, I couldn’t wait to see what was next.  I was constantly hitting the fast forward button in hopes a better song would come on.  Even when Ray Charles “What I’d Say” began to play, which in my book is a fantastic song I wanted to hit the next button.  Before good ole Ray got to chorus I was already listening to next song.

A few hours of the listening and forwarding game I turned off the iPod and headed back to my life.  As I adjusted back to life sans the soundtrack I started to ponder the little event I had just undergone.  Not that listening to music and working on the computer is an event in my house, but for some reason it provided some much needed fodder for my brain.

My brain feasted upon this new scenario as the arms of the clock raced around the face.  I had alway fancied myself as one who was fairly patient.  In my youth I had spent time in a room watching paint dry.  I wanted to see if I could tell a difference between wet paint and dry paint.  Turns out you can, but the process of watching it dry isn’t as fun as it sounds.  My little escapade with the iPod made me realize that I might not be as patient as I originally thought I was.

We have become conditioned to always be looking towards the future, towards what is new exciting and fresh.  Many times we spend so much time focussing on what is coming up around the bend we forget to enjoy what we have at the present.  More often than not it is during these periods of reflection on our current state we come to realize what it is God desires for us.

Take a moment in your life to reflect on what it is God is trying to tell you and you might be surprised at what He is trying to say.  Enjoy the moment and maybe someday you, like me, may come to realize that patience may be a virtue, but so is not hitting the fast forward button on your iPod.

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Big Annoucnement

Posted on April 19, 2012 by

Allow me to take a moment to depart from my usual witty and very deep insights in to life and religion to make a quick announcement.  I would to announce that I have completed my first novel and that it is slated to be published sometime this spring.  I don’t have an exact date on when it will be released, but it is coming.

The book is about a missionary who finds himself on a potato farm in Northern Minnesota instead of on a far off tropical island where he originally thought he was going.  The main character Sam finds himself getting into all sorts of trouble with the locals and the farm’s priests as he goes about his work as a missionary.  It is a book about finding your faith and offers a unique look at the Catholic faith and at life.

I will make the formal announcement when the book is slated to be officially released when I receive the information from the publisher.  All I have to offer right now is a sneak peak at the cover (well at least the ebook cover).  It is hot off the presses so you might need to wear gloves when you handle this thing.

Keep a slot open on your summer reading schedules for “The Offensive Catholic” due out sometime this spring.

 

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Racing towards Humility

Posted on April 13, 2012 by

Confessing ones sins to another takes an act of humility. It is an extremely humbling act to sit in the presence of another human being and confess all of ones faults and shortcomings, but it through this act of humility that God prepares one to receive his Son. Pope Benedict has stated numerous times that God enters into one who is heart is humble.

Often times we get hung up on the act of confession and not what is given during the sacrament. Our pride gets in the way, we do not desire to humble ourselves before God and a priest and confess all the wrongs we have done. But it through this act that God pours out His mercy and love upon us. To hear the words that your sins are absolved and forgiven is an incredibly powerful statement.

Preparing for a confession is similar to a runner preparing for a race. If the runner focuses only the race and not the finish it would be doubtful the runner would ever toe the starting line. During the race the runner puts themselves through all sort of physical and mental discomfort in order to achieve the finish line. Many times during the race they want to quit, just stop running no one will know after all it is just some little small town race, but for some reason they keep going they keep putting one foot in front of the other despite the burning lungs, legs, arms. They do this to achieve the glory of the finish line. The finish line is the end of race and once the line is crossed the pain eases up legs stop burning, but once the line is crossed the person is forever changed. They have accomplished something, pushed themselves to achieve that finish.

Confession works in much the same way. We can either get hung up on the act of confessing or we can focus on the forgiveness and grace given at the end. If we focus on the act of confessing and forget about the forgiveness it is easy to not want to go. In those time were we are focusing on the act, think of the runner. Think not of the act, but rather the grace and forgiveness given. Think of the finish line and you will start the race.

Once the finish line has been reached, the race is not over. The runner now has to enter into the recovery phase of training. Time needs to pass to allow the body to fully recover from the toll taken by the race. Just as the runner needs a recovery, the sinner needs to make amends for committing the sins. Time needs to pass and penance needs to be performed in order for the soul to heal from the sins committed. There are lasting repercussions from sins, but let those repercussion serve as a reminder of what you did and what you received from God. Just as a set of sore legs allows a runner to remember the race days later, the lasting repercussions of sins allow the sinner the opportunity to remember the grace of forgiveness given by God at confession.

Confession like racing is a humbling act. Both require a hard examination of your life. Racing forces you to publicly show what your training has given you. Days missed will show and you will not be able to achieve the goal you want. It is during a race you are forced to realize your shortcomings as a runner. Confession acts in much the same mannor. It will show you all of the shortcomings in your life, were you have failed God and offended Him. The beautiful part of confession is that no matter what you have done God will forgive you and still give you His mercy. All you have to do is ask.

Do not let the act of confession prevent you from obtaining the forgiveness offered by God. Focus on this forgiveness and the pain/fear presented by the act will subside. Enter the confessional as humbly and as honestly as you can and God will bestow upon you an unbelievable amount of mercy. For God enters into the man with a humble heart and it is through the Sacrament of Reconciliation that we shed the weight of our sins and are filled with a deeper desire and love of God. Enter into the confessional, toe that starting line, and one day, by the grace of God you will find yourself crossing the finish line surrounded and filled with the love God has to offer.

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My Story

Posted on March 29, 2012 by

 I originally wrote this for my parish’s bulletin last year.  With Easter approaching I feel it appropriate for me to post it here.

My journey to the Catholic Faith has been one full of false starts, wrong turns, dead ends, and finally a seat in a classroom every Tuesday night for the past 4 months. When I first walked in to speak with Father Wehmann about taking RCIA classes I was tempted to see if there was a test I could take instead of taking the classes. Growing up the son of a Lutheran pastor I spent the better part of my youth surrounded by the church and as a result I felt I had a pretty good handle on what religion was all about. Thankfully there is no test that one can take in order to become Catholic, the journey that God puts you on when you make the decision to convert will far exceed anything you can ever image.

During the past few months God has placed many obstacles in my path to the faith. These obstacles started out as the ones most people struggle with, closed communion, transubstantiation, confession. I was struggling with the typical problems many people have with the faith. I was doing my due diligence in trying to come to an understanding of each of my struggles. I was reading the Catechism and Papal Encyclicals, praying and meditating on my struggles and each day I would come a little closer a better understanding of what I was struggling with. God was bringing into the faith slowly but surely.

As I began to release some of my struggles, things that I once thought impossible were suddenly not only possible but they were happening on a daily basis. When my wife and I were married we were told to pray together. At the time I was told this I thought to myself I have no idea how I am to pray with my wife. We both believed in God when we were married, we just did it privately. The thought of praying together was something that both of us found to be slightly embarrassing. It was simply too personal. I viewed a strong prayer life with my wife as something that was impossible. Well I have learned that with God all things are possible including praying with your wife. This once impossible task is now taking place on a daily basis and a result my marriage is now stronger.

My journey to the faith was going along wonderfully, I was seeing the impossible become possible. I was seeing the grace of God for the first time in a long time and then on January 22 God placed something on my path that would shake my beliefs to the core. It was on this day that my brother in law was killed in a snowmobile accident. It was because of his death I began to seriously question my belief in God once again. It seems that every time in my life I get close to God, tragedy strikes. When I was confirmed, my parents divorced and now when I am on the verge of conversion, my brother in law is tragically killed. I was struggling with this issue as I drove myself home from the hospital and as I struggled with this issue I heard a voice say to me “Are you not glad I am with you?”. It was a voice that came out of nowhere and it left as quickly as it came, but it was one that has forever changed me.

After the voice faded in my head, I realized that I was truly glad that God was with me during this time of loss. Before my brother in laws death I always viewed a strong faith in God as a type of shield that would protect you from tragedy. I have since learned that a strong faith in God does not offer a shield against tragedy, but what it does offer is God’s healing graces when tragedy does strike. God does not prevent tragedies from happening, but God does offer a shoulder to cry on and words of consolation when it does.

My journey to the faith had been a long and winding road and I know that my journey towards a deeper understanding of God will continue to be full of twist and turns, false starts, and dead ends, but I also know that I no longer walk down this path alone. I walk down the path surrounded by God and his graces. I am sure I will continue to struggle with some of the teachings of the church, but it in those moments of deep struggle that I know I will also find a better understanding of the faith and of God. I now know that God will not always give you what you want, but he will always give you what you need. I am incredibly thankful for the RCIA program here at St. Bridget, it is through this program that I have started to come to my deeper understanding of God and as a result my life has been enriched beyond what I have thought to be possible. If my belief in God can be so dramatically changed in 4 months, I cannot wait to see what happens to my faith over the rest of my life.

The Theotokos of Vladimir, one of the most ven...

The Theotokos of Vladimir, one of the most venerated of Orthodox Christian icons of the Virgin Mary. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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My Sword and My Shield

Posted on March 22, 2012 by

When I was a little boy, many years ago, I had a plastic sword and shield set.  The kind molded from cheap gray plastic and sold at toy stores all across the country.  The shield had thin plastic straps that would end up cutting your arm as you ran around backyards slaying dragons.

On warm summer days, my friends and I would run around the neighborhood valiantly defending our castles against the approaching hoards.  We would take our large plastic swords and clash them together with loud thwaps.  The battle cries that would fly from our mouths sounded tough to our prepubescent minds, but looking back from the perch of old age I’m sure they sounded more like screams of terror.  When our swords would break and inevitable they would, we would grab large sticks from the trees and these became our weapons.  In all the times we played knights, everyone would always carry a sword, but not everyone would carry a shield.  The sword is mightier than the shield we thought.

I remember one time stalking the large dragon (cedar bush) in front of the neighbors house.  This dragon was the size of a Volkswagen Beetle and meaner than a junkyard dog.  We had tried many times to take care of this threat, but each time we failed.  It was too tough for our girly little boy arms.

We decided it was time to develop a plan of attack that would work.  My friends and I sat around the round table drinking mead and planing our attack on the evil dragon.  Actually, we sat on my Mom’s deck drinking Kool-Aid and eating cookies, but I digress.  A plan was finally sketched out in the sand and we drained the last of our drinks and with Kool-Aid mustaches  set about to put the plan in to action.

the kool-aid Dragon

the kool-aid Dragon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The plan was a simple one, my friends would attack from the left and the right to soften the dragon up and I would approach from the front and deal it the death blow.  We slowly walked around to the front of the house.  Swords raised, sweat dripping from our brows as we walked.  My friend emitted a battle scream and thrust his sword into the dragon.  It disappeared into the thick under coat of the bush.  Without his sword he was powerless and retreated.  Time for the right flank, another battle scream and another sword gone.  The dragon had managed to defend both brutal assaults.  I nervously approached sword held high, red Kool-Aid mustache war paint on my face.  The sword was thrust head first into the dragon only to disappear like the rest.

We pulled back, our weapons gone trapped inside the belly of the dragon. All of our planning had failed. The dragon still lived.  After retreating to a safe distance we discussed the battle.  We watched the bush (dragon) blowing in the breeze.  It was decided that we had mortally wounded the creature and just needed to go back and retrieve our weapons.

The weapons were lodged deep into the bush we discovered.  I reached in to grab my sword and the branches of the bush left large scratches on my arm.  My friend tried to grab his and the same scratches appeared on his arm.  ”How are we going to get our swords back?” my friend said rubbing the scratches on his arm.  The answer to our problems hanging on my left arm. The worthless shield I had carried into battle suddenly became valuable.  I held it up and pushed back the branches of the bush.  Behind the safety of the shield I reached in and retrieved the swords.  I handed them back to my valiant battle compatriots and we headed inside to watch cartoons and celebrate our victory.

God gives each one of a sword and shield when go out to spread the Word.  Many of us prefer to use the sword, going on the offensive with those who do not believe in the Word. We try to get others to submit to the Word of God no matter what.  When spreading the Word, we need to remember what hangs in our left hand.  The shield God has provided each and every one of us.  He will defend us in battle, placing us under the protection of his wing.  Sometimes the best offense is the best defense.

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