Last night I was talking to a friend about various topics. One of them was his desire to take train trip to New Mexico to visit acquaintances at the Servants of the Paraclete. He jokingly said that if he died before he was able to make the trip, I should go without him. I told him that if he were cremated that I could take his ashes with me. he assured me that wouldn’t happen since he would not be cremated. I told him that I would have to go alone because I was not having him accompany me in a casket. This lead to a conversation about burial methods which then reminded me of my father.
Ten years ago this week my father died. A lifelong smoker, he succumbed, predictably, to lung cancer. I was living in South Carolina at the time and, knowing that he was dying, I was visiting for the weekend every couple of weeks. I arrived home for this weekend and he died that Sunday evening. Of course, I stayed with my Mom to help with arrangements.
My father had requested cremation. Actually, he was the first person that I knew who was going to be cremated so this was a brand new experience and I would be involved in all of the preparations. My father’s remains would be cremated, he would be buried in a private ceremony and then we would have a memorial Mass the following week.
He died at home so the funeral director came to the house to take his body. We fully realized that this was the last time that we would see him, so we made certain to say our goodbyes that morning. The next time we saw him, he would have “returned to dust.”
As the week progressed I was in contact with the funeral director about dates, times and other details. As we discussed arrangements it occurred to me that one day that week, my father would be transferred from the funeral home to the crematorium and then, unceremoniously, be placed in the crematorium chamber.
It disturbed me that Dad would essentially be “alone” as his mortal remains were reduced to ash. So I found out what time the cremation was to take place and asked if I would be able to attend. I was told that I could.
I did not tell anybody that I was doing this. I’m not sure why but I thought it might upset my Mom. Anyway, at the assigned time I arrived at the crematorium which was actually attached to another funeral home. I was brought to the back of the building and led outside where the crematorium chamber was located. The chamber was actually built into a large garage that was attached to the funeral home. The doors were all open and my father’s body was on a gurney in front of the chamber. There was a curtain drawn at the head of the gurney which was just inside of the garage door. If the curtain was not there, the gurney and the chamber would have been totally visible to anyone passing by. I was amazed at how exposed the whole scene was to the rest of ther world.
There was a kind of industrial feel to the whole setting, as if some sort of forging or smelting process was about to occur. The chamber had already been pre-fired and and was ready to receive my Dad’s remains.
I asked the funeral director if I could have a few minutes alone with my father. He drew back the sheet covering the body and left me there with him. I truly don’t remember what I thought or what I might have said at that point. But I really wasn’t there to make some final statement, assuage some residual guilt or settle some final score. I was there because I did not want my Dad to be alone.
I was well aware that his spirit had moved on and this body was an empty shell but still, this was my father. I was his oldest child and as this final scene played out, I felt a responsibility to be both a companion and a witness. In a few moments he would cease to be in the form in which we had recognized him all of our lives. There was a finality about that that seemed on par with his death a few days before. Someone needed to be there. I needed to be there.
After a few minutes, I stepped around the curtain and told the attendant that I was finished. They then opened the door to the chamber and slid my father’s body in. I believe it was in some sort of container but I really don’t remember. Then the attendant turned some throttles or dials and the valves of flame roared into action as the incineration process commenced. I hung around for a little while until I sensed that it was okay to leave.
I’m not sure how to express this, but in some strange way I felt like I reached a level of adulthood that I had not allowed myself before this. It was as if I was not truly a man before but now, by standing vigil as my father passed with real finality from this mortal world, I had qualified somehow for a position that I hadn’t warranted until now. There was something intimate about this moment, perhaps the most intimate time I had ever spent with my father…and he really wasn’t even there.
I have no regrets about my relationship with my father. He was who he was and I completely accept that. I do feel like I knew him better than he knew me. Maybe that’s why I needed to be there. To introduce myself in another way to him. To show him that I could be there when he needed me just like he was there when I needed him. Whatever the reason, I was there. I think he would have appreciated that.
I just finished reading a book by Peter Gomes titled “The Scandalous Gospel of Jesus.” The concluding chapter was about the hope that the gospel of Christ provides. But the view of hope presented by Dr. Gomes, who is minister of Harvard University’s Memorial Church, is unflinchingly pragmatic and recognizes the challenges of living a life that is truly based on the teachings of Christ.
Dr. Gomes quotes St. Paul from Romans 5:
“…we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts, through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”
In other words, suffering for the sake of the gospel leads to hope, and hope in God will not disappoint.
What strikes me about this reading is the realistic manner in which it portrays the lives of those who believe and attempt to truly live the gospel. Following this path will be challenging and will come with its share of frustrations and pain along the way. Jesus told us no differently. But hope sustains us.
And Dr. Gomes goes on to write a paragraph that struck me as about as true a statement about hope and my experience of it that I have ever read. He says:
“Dietrich Bonhoeffer once warned against cheap grace, and I warn now against cheap hope. Hope is not merely the optimistic view that somehow everything will turn out all right in the end if everyone just does as we do. Hope is the more rugged, the more muscular view that even if things don’t turn out all right and aren’t all right, we endure through and beyond the times that disappoint or threaten to destroy us. Something of the quality of that kind of hope is found when the psalmist asks, ‘Why are you cast down, O my soul? Why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.’
“Muscular hope such as that of which St. Paul speaks to the Romans comes with a price, and usually suffering and privation are involved. This kind of hope requires work, effort, and expenditure without the assurance of an easy or ready return. It is from character that hope is produced. This is where the old aphorism comes from that says, “Show me what you hope for, and I will know who you are.’ “
Muscular hope. I will add that term to my list of favorite spiritual encouragements. At some point I will remind myself that a situation calls for muscular hope.
Immediately after completing the book. I laid it down and picked up my Bible. I had been concentrating on some spiritual reading and hadn’t read the scriptures in quite a few days. I looked at the Good Book and decided to play a bit of scriptural roulette so I inserted my thumb between some pages that I knew would locate me somewhere in the New Testament. As I opened the Bible to see what inspiration might await me, my eyes were drawn to a section that was highlighted in yellow. The section read:
“…we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts, through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”
What are the odds?
Om election day I was on the phone talking to an associate of mine. The conversation started out as business but eventually segued to religion and politics. Right away all of the warning bells went off. “Danger! Danger! Stay away from these topics.”
The person I was speaking to knows that I am pro-life and wanted to talk about how I would vote and why. I told him that I would prefer not to discuss this. He kept pressing and, to make a long story short, we eventually ended up touching on religion, the Catholic Church, John McCain, Sarah Palin and Barack Obama.
I should have kept my mouth shut.
I am not a good debater. It doesn’t make any difference how strongly I feel about something or how much I really know about a topic. When engaging in an exchange with someone that feels strongly about their position and expects me to defend mine I am simply useless. My thoughts get all jumbled. My facts are never in order. My heart is always way more informed than my head.
“Terry, I just don’t know how you can respect and obey a Church with pedophile priests that were protected by their superiors. A Church responsible for slaughtering countless human beings considered pagans during the Crusades or an inquisition. A Church that stakes its beliefs on books that were written hundreds of years after the actual events that allegedley took place.”
“Terry, how can you vote for a man that will continue the failed policies of the past 8 years. Who, in his heart, is likely pro-choice? How can you vote for a man that chose Sarah Palin as his running mate?”
Yadda, yadda, yadda…
I hate arguing religion and politics. I’ve always felt that you might as well just stand across the room from your opponent and run at each other head first. That’s about the feeling you will have at the end of one of these discussions.
I am neither a theologian, an intellectual or a political pundit. I know what I believe and I believe these things strongly. But I felt that I had somehow failed my Church and my faith. I am utterly inadequate when it comes to articulating spiritual, religious or political perspectives.
I’ve been alive for 55 years. I’ve read, I’ve listened, I’ve prayed, I’ve sinned, I’ve confessed, I’ve hurt and I’ve been healed. I’ve experienced the presence of Jesus in my life in real and tangible ways. He’s there. I know him. I love him. I believe in him.
The politics? I don’t want to talk about it.
Why do I believe what I believe? Because I do. I just do. This is my Faith, my Rock, my Foundation. I believe that the Roman Catholic Church is the one true church of God, the Bride of Christ. I believe in the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. I believe in the Resurrection of Christ and the promise of new life in Him. I believe. I just do.
That’s the best I have. If someone demands a substantive argument from me, all I have to offer is that “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.” Faith is the substance of my argument. Faith is my defense of my faith.
This may seem like a weird thing to post about on a Catholic blog but I find myself thinking a lot about my relationship with God in light of the Phillies’ World Series victory this week.
I grew up 3 miles outside of the Philadelphia city limits. My parents are from the West Oak Lane section of the city. My maternal grandparents were Irish immigrants but my paternal grandparents were hardcore South Philly Irish.
Philadelphia is a city with a chip on its shoulder and a massive persecution complex. It is just 90 minutes from New York and about a two and a half hour drive to Washington D.C. It is the older sibling that has become dwarfed by the personas and accomplishments of its younger sister cities. New York is bigger and tougher, D.C. is smarter and better-looking. Over the years it has developed a reputation as a city that can do nothing right.
The populace lives and dies with its sports teams. In some strange metaphysical way, the city has developed a collective psyche that is inextricably connected with the accomplishments and failures of the organizations that represent it in professional athletics. And year after year after year after year the sports teams find a way to break the hearts of millions of people that just want something to feel good about.
Well they finally do. The Phillies are world champions and today, with a planned championship parade, over a million people will define themselves as winners by virtue of the accomplishments of a baseball team.
So, what does this have to do with God? Well, after a while, you really started to get a sense that God really didn’t care very much for Philadelphia. And not only didn’t he care, he toyed with the place like masochistic tyrant promising to provide abundantly for his citizens then denying them sustenance.
Philadelphia, a city with an enormous Catholic population, developed an “att-ee-tood” that said, “I think God hates us.”
Seriously. I kid you not. Other cities may have less going for them but no one suffered through more disappointments than Philadelphians. “Why us?”
Eventually, it gets personal. “Why me?”
It gets so bad that, when things appear that they might actually go right, you don’t know how to handle it. You get superstitious. You begin to think that if a team doesn’t win or something goes crazy wrong, it is somehow your fault.
Then it happens. You win. We win. Now what? Do you go crazy with joy and take to the streets and demonstrate your happiness through acts of wanton destruction? Or do you seek a way to express joy mixed with gratitude?
I grew up wondering, “Why does this happen to us?” Eventually, it became “Why does this happen to me?” And now, when things seem like they may be on the verge of actually working out in my personal life, I’m not sure how to handle it.
As my friend Owen said in a comment, “What if it does work?” Then what? What if the perception and the lifelong sense that things will never work out gets turned on its head.
Like Philadelphia, I’ll try and be happy without causing any problems. But I also want to rehabilitate that deeply ingrained notion that God has it in for me. He didn’t have it in for Philly and he has never had it in for me. But after a while, you start to believe things that really aren’t true.
I have a very immature view of the Creator of the Universe and his Redeemer Son. I regularly confuse the vagaries of this world with the flawless and loving plan that God has for us. We have already won. I have already won.
An entire city feels redeemed by the wood of baseball bats and a hard-hitting team. An entire world has been redeemed by the wood of the Cross and a hard-loving God.
Like most people, I feel like I am living in an economic war zone, in a village under constant shelling ever fearful that the next barrage scores a direct hit on my residence. I don’t even have much stock but I look at the Dow like I am guarding millions in assets. Actually I am worried about the ripple effect where the person with millions loses and then fires the person with thousands who then dumps stock in a company that is the client of one of my clients who then turns around and cancels their contract with us.
Frankly, it has been pretty nerve wracking. We had a major disruption in lead flow last week which we were able to fix but which really shook me up and made me realize that I am not as rock solid in my faith and confidence in the Lord as I should be or would like to be.
I was delivered from a situation that was really adversely affecting me physically and emotionally. Now I feel like I am out of the frying pan and into the fire relative to job security. What kind of faith is that? Where is the trust that I purport to have in a loving God that cares about me as if I were his only child? Is the only way he can prove to me that he cares by making sure that I am financially secure and without worry?
I know that I need to expand my palette of faith to include broader definitions of “take care of.” Christ has already “taken care of me” by his sacrifice of redemption. That is ultimately where my confidence should be…in the promise of Heaven. But in the meantime, there is that small matter of living life.
I am trying very hard to let go of my fears, to surrender all to the Lord. It ain’t easy. I keep asking myself the same questions over and over.
What happens if this doesn’t work?
How will I pay my bills?
How will I keep my daughter in Catholic school?
How will I ever retire?
And the list goes on.
More than anything I want to call out that big “YES” to the Lord. The one that affirms, “I am with you no matter what.” I don’t want to begin walking on the water and then sink amid the waves as my doubts and fears consume me. But I have been conditioned to think that way and I am working hard to “unlearn” these thought patterns.
When you get right down to it, poverty is not my greatest fear. Fear is my greatest fear.
I have been thinking a great deal about the upcoming election. Like so many, I too, am discouraged, angry and disillusioned by the policies and practices of the current administration. Advancing a murky and questionable agenda in the name of national security combined with an economy that is disintegrating would make most thoughtful and rational individuals demand change. And in spite of protests to the contrary by McCain and Palin, the only agent of change in this election would seem to be Barack Obama.
Except that there is one thing that wouldn’t change… abortion on demand.
For the first time in my life, I have been studying the issues. More important, I have been reading a great deal about the Catholic Church’s stand on voting with regard to pro-choice candidates. And while I must admit that I have read nothing that crystallizes the Church’s position and provides unmistakable guidance in this matter, neither have I found anything that persuades me that it is appropriate to deviate from a hard-line pro-life stance in this election.
What is truly, truly disturbing to me is that many good, solid, unwavering pro-life Catholics that I know and love are taking solid positions in favor of Obama and, in some cases, have assumed an activist’s role for his election. They are justifying this position by virtue of:
- Their disgust with the Bush administration
- Their belief that the Church’s published teachings on abortion and voting policies allows individual Catholics to make a decision based on conscience.
In fact, on the website RomanCatholicsforObama.com, the editors have extensively quoted a statement by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishop’s titled “Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship” as justification for casting a vote for Obama in spite of his pro-choice stance. They highlight two specific statements:
- “…a voter should not use a candidate’s opposition to an intrinsic evil to justify indifference or inattentiveness to other important moral issues involving human life and dignity.
- There may be times when a Catholic who rejects a candidate’s unacceptable position may decide to vote for that candidate for other morally grave reasons.
In other words, in the view of this group, the U.S. Catholic Church has left the door open to vote for a pro-choice candidate because there may be “morally grave reasons” that offset or mitigate the candidate’s position on abortion. However, a closer reading of the Bishops’ statement includes the following:
“Voting in this way would be permissible only for truly grave moral reasons, not to advance narrow interests or partisan preferences or to ignore a fundamental moral evil.”
And this:
“In the end, this is a decision to be made by each Catholic guided by a conscience formed by Catholic moral teaching.”
Critical to making a decision regarding voting is to have a clear understanding of Catholic teaching and the definitions of “fundamental moral evil” and intrinsic evil.”
Another reference on the RomanCatholicsforObama website is to a letter by the Archbishop of Denver. Visitors are encouraged to read the letter and I, also, encourage reading the letter. In some strange way, it appears that the Catholics managing this site are interpreting the Archbishop’s letter to be a rationale for voting for a pro-choice candidate. The only justification that the Archbishop provides for this type of vote is if there is a “proportionate reason.” And the definition of “proportionate reason?”
“It’s the kind of reason we will be able to explain, with a clean heart, to the victims of abortion when we meet them face to face in the next life — which we most certainly will. If we’re confident that these victims will accept our motives as something more than an alibi, then we can proceed.”
That is an extremely lofty and difficult standard to meet. It means that, without hesitation and with a completely clear conscience, we will be able to present potential conditions or dramatic circumstances that would be more serious than the killing of over 1 million persons per year in this country. Yet, the Catholics for Obama would have you believe that that standard has already been met.
I am deeply concerned that many are allowing their distaste for a failed administration to cloud their judgement when it comes to the abortion issue. And I can’t imagine anything that would give Satan more pleasure than watching truth and morality compromised by fear and frustration.
I cannot vote for Barack Obama. I’m sure that he is a decent man and I would be truly satisfied to see a qualified and like-minded African-American reach the nation’s highest office in my lifetime. It appears likely that this will happen but it will not be satisfying. I sincerely believe that doing the right and moral thing may cause further problems and, perhaps, even result in a catastrophe. But to follow in the footsteps of Jesus and make the decisions that are based on Christian truth will likely not bode well for our circumstances in this life.
Perhaps the desire to avoid Calvary and the unwillingness to take up the cross are factors in the decision to to relegate the fate of the unborn to a balance sheet of political issues. In extreme circumstances, choosing life above all other factors may result in death. At the very least it may require accepting political policies that are distasteful and maybe even abhorent. If that is the consequence of choosing life then so be it. I will make my decision with a clear conscience and leave the rest in the hands of the Lord. My faith demands it.
The title of this post is a play on Quincy Jones’ classic album “Back on the Block.” Not that I am anywhere as cool as QJ but I can never resist a play on words.
My fraternity reunion was a genuinely good time. It was wonderful to see so many old friends and relive the college days. Equally enjoyable was seeing everyone as an older version of themselves. Frankly, I was surprised at how little most of us had changed. Sure we were older, grayer, balder and heavier but for the most part, each was readily identifiable as the person remembered. Thirty years is a long time…and no time at all.
I am disappointed that a few of my Catholic blogging friends have ceased maintaining an active blog. I will miss the opportunity to read their insights and observations about this Catholic journey we share. Regardless, I will continue to post even if no one reads because I find the experience truly helpful.
I actually have a couple of issues that I want to address but I think it best to get my thoughts together and isolate them in separate posts.They have to do with the economy and the election. Needless to say these are headache inducing subjects. I’ll get some Excedrin ready and then start writing.
Tonight I will be attending a reunion of the fraternity in which I was a member in college. Since I graduated a lifetime ago, in 1975, their will be many classmates and wives whom I have not seen in over 30 years. I am anticipating this event with a great deal of excitement and more than a little bit of dread.
I was a member of a business fraternity while I attended college. It was a great group of guys and while it was a professional, not a social, fraternity, we managed to have a lot of really good times. I have a lot of fond memories…and a lot of painful ones also.
It was during my junior year in college that my anxiety disorder started to manifest itself aggressively. At one point during a summer break, I was actually hospitalized for three weeks in what was then well known as a “mental hospital.” I have always appreciated the understanding and support I received from my friends at that time. It is also an embarrassing episode and not quite the way that I would want to be remembered.
Since then, I have lost regular contact with all of these men except for periodic emails about special events like grandchildren and weddings. It has been about 5 years since I saw any of them at all and that was just a few at a non-fraternity member’s birthday party. Since graduation I have been on a roller coaster of ups, downs, successes, failures, satisfactions and disappointments…much like others, I guess. But I know that many have gone on to great success with doctors, professors, lawyers and business executives among the more than 100 attendees of the reunion. Of course, I am nervous since I have no such resume to present.
But I do have a marriage that’s lasted 28 years. I have three beautiful children whom I have been able to feed, clothe and shelter ( with the help of God) for all this time. But most important, I have developed a faith relationship with Christ that I treasure above all things. With his help, I have weathered many storms and been raised from near despair to joyful hope. I have cultivated a relationship with the Mother of God through the gift of the rosary. I continue to seek Him and stumble along in the process with a hopefully deepening faith in His love and the triumphant Resurrection that is ahead.
I am blessed.
Since graduation, one of the alumni has become a deacon and another a priest. Still another writes regularly for the Archdiocesan newspaper in Philadelphia. We will begin the reunion with a Mass at our Catholic alma mater. Most of the attendees will be present at the Mass. I find the circumstances of the reunion deeply satisfying and gratifying. For whatever successes and accomplishments can be published and trumpted, the ultimate and most important achievement is the bond which I am sure that many of us share without announcing it…faith in Christ, love for his Catholic Church and hope for the grand reunion that awaits us in Heaven.
I am sitting at this moment in a hotel room in Las Vegas. We are leaving in the morning but I really wanted to write this post before I left.
This morning I attended Mass at the Guardian Angel Cathedral. The church sits about 75 yards off the Las Vegas strip about a block above the Wynn Hotel and Casino. It is right in the midst of the glitz and degeneracy of “Sin City.” I couldn’t help but think that this is where Jesus was…in the midst of sinners.
After Mass, I went across the street to a souvenir store to pick up some trinkets for the family. I then walked up the strip towards some hotels since that is the only place you can get a cab. Strewn along the sidewalks are discarded pages from ad booklets promoting strip clubs and massage parlors. Men try and hand these ads to you as you walk by and many end up tossed on the ground. Families are walking along these streets with mobile billboards announcing “Girls, Girls, Girls!”
The hotel and casino complexes are magnificent monuments to the genius and imagination of man applied to the pursuit of other men’s dollars and souls. The place is breathtaking and appalling at the same time. The whole time I was here I found myself wanting to see every bit of it and escape it at the same time. I probably sound like a prudish fuddy-duddy but I have felt very uncomfortable here. There are great restaurants, tons of first-class entertainment and much that is on the up-and-up to be enjoyed. Yet, somehow, it has all seemed a bit obscene. But, truth be told, I told my wife that we should come here some time, just so she could have the opportunity to see it for herself.
I believe I’m in the midst of a moral conundrum.
In Jesus’ time, his presence appealed to thousands who needed healing of body and soul. Sinners knew they were sinners and sought to repent and be forgiven. Perhaps I am giving little credit to the ‘better angels of our nature” but I wonder how many have even the slightest desire to repent or be forgiven. It seems that there is little concept of sin and little tolerance for those who identify sin.
I thought that the Guardian Angel Cathedral was an appropriate title for the main church in this spectacularly decadent place. Every man, woman and child needed guarding by a messenger from God.
May our guardian angels lead us safely through the desert of sin and bring us safely into the oasis of the Kingdom.
I had dinner the other evening with a former associate of mine. He is a copywriter at the agency which I just left. As much as I despised working there, I enjoyed my conversations with this man. (Let’s call him Damon).
Within minutes after we sat down, Damon had asked me, “Well, tell me what’s going on with you spiritually, philosophically, metaphysically…whatever.” Damon and I had a few “heavy” conversations while we worked together and he knows that I am very Catholic in my thinking and I know that he is more inclined towards Buddhist thought or a perspective that sees all things as one and God and the “seen” and “unseen” as collaborative and inseparable. Essentially, he is a seeker.
Our conversation edged towards politics and, of course, we are on opposite sides of the political spectrum. When the topic of abortion was broached I tensed because I do not like to get into “debates” about abortion. I feel that, no matter how strong the case, no one wins. A good debater can make mincemeat out of anyone, no matter who is right. Unfortunately, the abortion issue tends to bring out the worst in both sides and I think that the “culture war” that surrounds this issue has made it virtually impossible to have a dialogue that would move us towards an understanding that results in an appreciation for, and the preservation of, life.
Damon assured me that he wasn’t looking for a debate but that he sincerely wanted to hear what my view of the subject was. That being said, I really wanted to represent my perspective in a way that went beyond the basic truth that life begins at conception and that all human life is sacred (a belief that I did make clear that I strongly held). I also wanted to talk to Damon where he was, in a way that stated both what I believe and why I believe it. So I said a brief prayer and asked the Lord to give me the grace to articulate my beliefs so that my conviction about the sanctity of life had a basis in what could be called Truth.
“Here’s how I see it Damon. St. John the Evangelist tells us that ‘God is love.’ Later, St. Paul presents us with the characteristics of love. He tells us what love is and what it is not. So he is really telling us what God is (patient, kind, enduring, etc.) and is not (jealous, boastful, proud, etc.) Love is about the other, not about oneself. There is a scenario that I have invented that might put this in perspective. I believe that God is eternal, no beginning and no end. But, if he did have a beginning here is what I believe it may have looked like.”
“In that instant that God the Father came into being, the love that he was instantaneously gave being to God the Son. And also, simultaneously, the love that the two shared gave being to the Holy Spirit and the unity of the Trinity. And the love that is shared in this unity is so infinitely great that it can not help but share its existence in an act of absolutely selfless creation. And that creation is the soul of man. God is love. And he loves so much that we were created because God’s essence and nature is to share and to create…to love. The flow of love and creative energy from God is always outward, away from. Our response should also be outward, away from. So it is returned to God and shared with others. And creation results.”
“We are made in the image and likeness of God. He has gifted us with the ability to share in his creative love. Sexual union is the most wondrous way that we share in that creative love. But we are fallen creatures and the process by which we share God’s creative love has been hindered and confused by sin. So the joy we should experience in our shared creativity is not always as pure and beautiful as it could be. Poverty, illness, violence and the general messiness of life can make the act of bringing new life into the world difficult and challenging. Nonetheless, sharing in creation is reflective of the love that God has for us and calls us to share.”
“If we are to share in that creative love, we too, must be selfless, always giving and creating by our love. If we are acting in the image and likeness of God and resisting his call to participate in his creative love, we are not acting in love. We are being selfish, not selfless.”
“And that is why I believe that abortion is so wrong. God calls each of us to be perfect. Perfection is the selfless act of love. Christ showed us what selfless love is by surrendering to death on a cross for our salvation. Abortion is selfish in its denial of life to another. Abortion resists the call to love and perfection. Our life, our existence is the result of God’s selfless love. Each of us is called to that same selflessness. We cannot deny life to another and call that a ‘right.’ It is the antithesis of love. It is ‘off the mark.’ It is sin.”
Damon responded, “I really like the image that you present of God constantly flowing outwards… always expanding. Like the Universe continues to expand. It continues outward and away from a point of beginning. I like that thought, that concept. I’ll have to think about that. The expansiveness of the Creator.”
I took a shot and if that is what Damon came away with, then I’ll take it. We talked and listened. No arguing, no “gotchas.” And if I was able to plant a seed in a person who approaches issues from an intellectual perspective by presenting my views on abortion from a spiritual and intellectual perspective, then I’m good with that. It was my statement for life. It’s what I have and what I offered at that moment. I can only hope that my prayer for grace was answered and that I made God smile.
