Classic Honeymooners Golf Scene
It's Wednesday, we've made it half way through the week, it's time to kick back and enjoy a laugh from the Honeymooners.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Miscellaneous Musings, Monday, May 9, 2011
I Gotta Be Me
The other day a co-worker asked me, if it were possible, what three things I’d change about my life. I gave some sort of flippant reply, thinking it one of those silly, “what if” kind of questions that people come up with, mostly to kill time. I thought no more about it.
Until, that is, a few hours later. I realized that, as I’ve gotten a little older, [ Ed Note: The author adamantly refuses to clarify this statement is specific terms, so the accuracy of “a little older” can’t be verified for truthfulness] every couple of years I’ve stopped to look back over my life, trying to gain perspective on the direction life has taken me. [Ed Note: We know for a fact that the author is nearly neurotic about this and does it on a daily basis.] Ahem, as I was saying, on occasion, I do review the events of my life. And there are times when I’ve wished thing might have been different. [Ed Note: He’s quite neurotic about this also.] [Author’s Note: You can’t possibly know that, so mind your own damned business! Please!]
Anyway, on these occasions, I sometimes imagine how much better things would have been if, say, I’d been born into a wealthy, highly influential family, in a different place, [Ed Note: London, New York, Paris . . .], [Author’s Note: NOT Paris, now please, BUTT OUT!] chosen a different career, and on and on.
On the other hand, in recent years, I’ve spent time pondering the works of two saints, Benedict and Ignatius, and come to see that, in reality, my life is in God’s hands, and always has been. Things may not have been always ideal in every aspect, but in ways I don’t yet understand, it’s been perfect for me. In truth, I’m grateful for the experiences I’ve had and the life I’ve lived. I have my own unique perspective on the world and have made, done both good and bad.
The answer to my friend’s question, then, is twofold. There are things I wish I’d done differently. There are many times when I could have been wiser, more mature, kinder, more compassionate, simply better. I don’t think there are many among us who wouldn’t say that. There are hurts I wish could have been avoided. I wish my father had lived just a few years longer, enough to see that I did, finally, fulfill his wish that I become a CPA, to my own great astonishment. Yet, there have been good times too, times when I acted maturely, wisely, compassionately. There have been times of accomplishment, achievement, joy.
Thinking it over, I’m not sure it’s good to wish for great changes in the way we’ve lived our lives and to wish it all magically to be transformed into some vague ideal existence. Sometimes, when I think about making such changes, I’ve realized that if things had been very different, I wouldn’t be who I am. For better or worse, I wouldn’t be me. I have to trust that somehow, God is able to work for good through all of the chaos and confusion of my life. I believe that, when God made me, he knew what He was doing. I marvel that he went ahead and made me anyway. So, I’ll take what I’ve been given, acknowledge the past, my own weakness, and look forward to doing better in the future. There’s nothing I’d change.
Oh, except maybe one thing. I might try to find a new editor. [Ed note: be my guest!]
The other day a co-worker asked me, if it were possible, what three things I’d change about my life. I gave some sort of flippant reply, thinking it one of those silly, “what if” kind of questions that people come up with, mostly to kill time. I thought no more about it.
Until, that is, a few hours later. I realized that, as I’ve gotten a little older, [ Ed Note: The author adamantly refuses to clarify this statement is specific terms, so the accuracy of “a little older” can’t be verified for truthfulness] every couple of years I’ve stopped to look back over my life, trying to gain perspective on the direction life has taken me. [Ed Note: We know for a fact that the author is nearly neurotic about this and does it on a daily basis.] Ahem, as I was saying, on occasion, I do review the events of my life. And there are times when I’ve wished thing might have been different. [Ed Note: He’s quite neurotic about this also.] [Author’s Note: You can’t possibly know that, so mind your own damned business! Please!]
Anyway, on these occasions, I sometimes imagine how much better things would have been if, say, I’d been born into a wealthy, highly influential family, in a different place, [Ed Note: London, New York, Paris . . .], [Author’s Note: NOT Paris, now please, BUTT OUT!] chosen a different career, and on and on.
On the other hand, in recent years, I’ve spent time pondering the works of two saints, Benedict and Ignatius, and come to see that, in reality, my life is in God’s hands, and always has been. Things may not have been always ideal in every aspect, but in ways I don’t yet understand, it’s been perfect for me. In truth, I’m grateful for the experiences I’ve had and the life I’ve lived. I have my own unique perspective on the world and have made, done both good and bad.
The answer to my friend’s question, then, is twofold. There are things I wish I’d done differently. There are many times when I could have been wiser, more mature, kinder, more compassionate, simply better. I don’t think there are many among us who wouldn’t say that. There are hurts I wish could have been avoided. I wish my father had lived just a few years longer, enough to see that I did, finally, fulfill his wish that I become a CPA, to my own great astonishment. Yet, there have been good times too, times when I acted maturely, wisely, compassionately. There have been times of accomplishment, achievement, joy.
Thinking it over, I’m not sure it’s good to wish for great changes in the way we’ve lived our lives and to wish it all magically to be transformed into some vague ideal existence. Sometimes, when I think about making such changes, I’ve realized that if things had been very different, I wouldn’t be who I am. For better or worse, I wouldn’t be me. I have to trust that somehow, God is able to work for good through all of the chaos and confusion of my life. I believe that, when God made me, he knew what He was doing. I marvel that he went ahead and made me anyway. So, I’ll take what I’ve been given, acknowledge the past, my own weakness, and look forward to doing better in the future. There’s nothing I’d change.
Oh, except maybe one thing. I might try to find a new editor. [Ed note: be my guest!]
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Early Church Fathers, Sunday, May 8, 2011
Since therefore we have such proofs, it is not necessary to seek the truth among others which it is easy to obtain from the Church; since the apostles, like a rich man [depositing his money] in a bank, lodged in her hands most copiously all things pertaining to the truth: so that every man, whosoever will, can draw from her the water of life. For she is the entrance to life; all others are thieves and robbers. On this account we are bound to avoid them, but to make choice of the things pertaining to the Church with the utmost diligence, and to lay hold of the tradition of the truth. For how stands the case? Suppose there should arise a dispute relative to some important question among us. Should we not have recourse to the most ancient churches with which the apostles held constant intercourse, and learn from them what is certain and clear in regard to the present question? For how should it be if the apostles themselves had not left us writings? Would it not be necessary [in that case] to follow the course of the tradition which they handed down to those to whom they did commit the churches? (St Ireneaus, Against Heresies).
Friday, May 6, 2011
Founders Friday, Friday, May 6, 2011
Image via WikipediaBenjamin Franklin, Positions to be Examined, April 4, 1769
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Miscellaneous Musings, Monday, May 2, 2011
The Cowardly Disciples
It’s hard to get through any Easter season without reading a comment, or hearing a word in a homily, about the cowardice displayed by the disciples at the time of Jesus arrest. It’s a point often mentioned but, I’ve noticed, not often elaborated on. Why were the disciples suddenly so afraid that they would desert someone so important in their lives? Someone they knew could be the Messiah? And, if they ran when the crunch came, what do we have to look forward to in the difficulties we, as Christians, face today?
I started thinking about not cowardice, but courage. I tried to think if I had seen any acts of real courage in my life? I honestly couldn’t think of any examples of what we typically think of as courage, someone facing real danger for a good cause or reason, bravely, despite the consequences. I was thinking strictly in terms of valor. Then, on Saturday evening at Mass, I noticed the young deacon who will receive priestly ordination in June.
I realized I was in the living presence of someone displaying real courage, defying conventional wisdom and all our society values and approves in the service of his deepest beliefs. Some would say he was throwing his life away for nothing. But he has something they don’t; he has something true to live for. I think that’s a display of true courage. It’s not just a reflexive act, done in a moment of crisis, it’s an oblation of self to God, for God’s will. What could be more genuinely courageous?
Perhaps the most courageous man I’ve known though was my own father. He had little education, but like most Scots, a great deal of talent and ingenuity. He came to America looking for a better life and found it. He worked 30 years in a Detroit stamping factory as a die maker. It was dirty, dangerous, sweaty work. He would go to work every day, even into his 60’s, in the dead of the Michigan winter or heat of summer. In the summer the temperatures would reach 120 degrees or more inside that factory. He never took a “sick day” or even much vacation. He did it to provide a living for our family and so I could eventually receive an education and become a CPA. I never wanted to be an accountant, couldn’t imagine such a thing, but that’s what he wanted for me. He didn’t live to see it. He was a true hero, a truly courageous disciple.
I realized that accusing those disciples of cowardice is to make a false accusation. Yes, they took flight at first, but they stopped, Jesus caught up with them, as he does with all of us. True, he “upbraided them for their hardness of heart,” but then he breathed on them, just as God breathed life on the first man, Adam, and offered them new life. They had the courage to stop and listen. The result was that all but St John gained the martyr’s crown. That wasn’t cowardice, it was another example of true courage.
I realized they weren’t cowardly disciples after all.
It’s hard to get through any Easter season without reading a comment, or hearing a word in a homily, about the cowardice displayed by the disciples at the time of Jesus arrest. It’s a point often mentioned but, I’ve noticed, not often elaborated on. Why were the disciples suddenly so afraid that they would desert someone so important in their lives? Someone they knew could be the Messiah? And, if they ran when the crunch came, what do we have to look forward to in the difficulties we, as Christians, face today?
I started thinking about not cowardice, but courage. I tried to think if I had seen any acts of real courage in my life? I honestly couldn’t think of any examples of what we typically think of as courage, someone facing real danger for a good cause or reason, bravely, despite the consequences. I was thinking strictly in terms of valor. Then, on Saturday evening at Mass, I noticed the young deacon who will receive priestly ordination in June.
I realized I was in the living presence of someone displaying real courage, defying conventional wisdom and all our society values and approves in the service of his deepest beliefs. Some would say he was throwing his life away for nothing. But he has something they don’t; he has something true to live for. I think that’s a display of true courage. It’s not just a reflexive act, done in a moment of crisis, it’s an oblation of self to God, for God’s will. What could be more genuinely courageous?
Perhaps the most courageous man I’ve known though was my own father. He had little education, but like most Scots, a great deal of talent and ingenuity. He came to America looking for a better life and found it. He worked 30 years in a Detroit stamping factory as a die maker. It was dirty, dangerous, sweaty work. He would go to work every day, even into his 60’s, in the dead of the Michigan winter or heat of summer. In the summer the temperatures would reach 120 degrees or more inside that factory. He never took a “sick day” or even much vacation. He did it to provide a living for our family and so I could eventually receive an education and become a CPA. I never wanted to be an accountant, couldn’t imagine such a thing, but that’s what he wanted for me. He didn’t live to see it. He was a true hero, a truly courageous disciple.
I realized that accusing those disciples of cowardice is to make a false accusation. Yes, they took flight at first, but they stopped, Jesus caught up with them, as he does with all of us. True, he “upbraided them for their hardness of heart,” but then he breathed on them, just as God breathed life on the first man, Adam, and offered them new life. They had the courage to stop and listen. The result was that all but St John gained the martyr’s crown. That wasn’t cowardice, it was another example of true courage.
I realized they weren’t cowardly disciples after all.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The Desert Fathers, Sunday, May 1, 2011
Image via WikipediaChrist is Risen, and you (Hades) are annihilated! Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down! Christ is Risen and the angels rejoice! Christ is Risen, and life is liberated! Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead; for Christ having risen from the dead is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep… Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Saviour has set us free.
St. Cyril of Alexandria
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