Pins

"Sometimes I get tired of pins and needles

Facades are a fire on the skin,

I'm growing fond of broken people,

As I see that I am one of them."

As much as this song has been on my heart and mind for the past couple months I have failed to write anything about it. This semester has been draining, my faith feels fragile and downright broken for the most part. I have stress coming at me from every direction, RA duties, classes, research, graduate school applications, being present to my best friends, all of these things have taken all that I am and ripped me apart in fifty different directions. At times I feel like I'm wearing masks, sometimes I'm the researcher that has everything together, other times I'm the friend who has been lacking in virtue and investing in the people I love like I would like to. God and I have a very touch-and-go relationship at best, sometimes it seems good, other times it feels faked and forced. All of these facades that I have been spending all this semester focusing on and building up are beginning to confront me and I'm feeling backed into a corner.

In high school my youth minister who I owe a lot of personal growth to, Billie Sue, would quote the bible verse that she tried to live her life by. Often, Billie Sue would bring up Micah 6:8, "You have been told, O man, what is good, and what the LORD requires of you: Only to do the right and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God." That, she emphasized over and over again, was the true key to happiness. The last part of that verse is what sticks out to me, walk humbly with your God. Throughout the semester I really feel God has been trying to lead me to humility, in small and big things. It's been in this tearing down process that I've been brought closer to what true humility looks like than I think I ever have been before. The more I've been brought low, the more I've realized how much virtue I lack and, as funny as it sounds, I've realized how the humility that I was so sure I possessed was nothing more than an elaborate schema that I created in order to make me feel somewhat better about myself. 

This false humility that I had allowed myself to believe in for so long really makes me realize how broken I really am. The song, "Pins and Needles" by MuteMath (as quoted above) hits on the point that in order to really love, we have to be aware of the fact that the people we are loving are imperfect and that, we too, are broken and imperfect. What it always comes back to for me and my faith walk is no matter what it is God is showing me or leading me through, it's all about love. This dirt that has come to encrust my existence, my lack of virtue, my sin, my stress, all is supposed to help me see that I am human, I am imperfect, and I can only truly love through and in God. How do I do that? I need to acknowledge my broken state before my God and allow Him to see into what my experience is instead of trying to hide it from Him. It is then, in humility and acknowledging who I truly am, that God can really begin to transform me. I am a broken person, and it is time I stop pretending that I'm not.

Subjection

"But I who am more inclined to go back, than to go forward, continue not always in one state, for I am changed, seven different times. But it quickly becomes better when it pleases Thee, and Thou stretchest out Thy helping hand: for Thou alone without man's aid can assist me and so strengthen me, that my countenance shall be more diversely changed: but my heart be converted and find its rest in Thee alone.

He who would be too secure in time of peace will often be found too much dejected in time of war. If you could always continue to be humble and little in your own eyes, and keep your spirit in due order and subjection, you would not fall so easily into danger and offense. It is good counsel that, when you have conceived the spirit of fervor, you should meditate how it will be when the light shall be withdrawn." -Imitation

The time of year has come to renew my total consecration to our Lady. The novena is meant to make those who would be consecrated reflect upon themselves and try to understand how to grow closer to God. This quote above is part of the first twelve preliminary days and it truly knocked me senseless when I read it.

I am a weak and fallen human being, I lack virtue, I sin often, I have not been perfected in the school of love. This is my reality, and the simple fact is God holds the key to bringing me into Himself through grace and love. What it ultimately comes down to is humility, acknowledging your brokenness before God and acknowledging that you can do nothing aside from Him. He is the One Who can change who we are. He is the One Who can transform us into what we were meant to be. It is only the humble soul that can truly subjugate his own passions and will to his soul, because the humble soul has subjugated himself to his Creator. There are times of religious fervor and zeal, when the faith walk is exciting and worthwhile and rewarding because of all the consolation, but that cannot be it. Hence the imitation book emphasizes during those times of consolation to consider what it will be like once the light is withdrawn. This all echos the message of humility, we do not control when we receive consolation, God does. It is imperative for us to cooperate with His grace and place ourselves at His feet and recognize how truly inconsistent we are and ask that He transforms us into what we were created to be.

We can find our rest in Christ alone, yet because of our weak and fallen nature we seek our meaning in other, lesser things. I'm reminded of David Crowder's song, "How Great." He starts off by singing, "I'm so bored of little gods while standing on the edge of something large, while standing here so close to You, we could be consumed." He goes on to sing about giving everything up, laying it all down and falling face-first before God much like Moses. He implores Christ to rid his heart of all he hides. It then turns into a reflection of how great the love of God is compared with how feeble our love is. So, here I stand, and I'm tired of the little gods that I've wasted so much of my existence pursuing, I want to be consumed, I want to be changed, I want to be made new. It's in that moment when we become aware of our humanity and own our sinfulness that we can stand before God and simply be swept up in His mercy, and begin the transforming process of the conversion of life.

Shattering

"One of the keys to real religious experience is the shattering realization that no matter how hateful we are to ourselves, we are not hateful to God. This realization helps us to understand the difference between our love and His. Our love is a need, His is a gift. We need to see good in ourselves in order to love ourselves. He does not. He loves us not because we are good, but because He is... The free and confident access of a soul that stands face to face with God and understand His mercy and is not consumed with self-hatred because of sins which, it knows, have already been consumed by His mercy--this is the parrhesia  which is ours since the 'goodness and kindness of God our Savior appeared.'" -Thomas Merton

In this passage Merton talks about God's infinite love and mercy in a way that I have not heard before. Merton notes that we need to see some good in ourselves to be able to love ourselves, God does not. God loves us in spite of our sin and wretchedness. His mercy envelops our sin and consumes it. I am reminded of the lyrics of Wholly Yours, "But the harder I try, the more clearly can I feel the depth of our fall and the weight of it all." The sin we find ourselves in not only reminds us of how weak we are, but it allows us to intimately feel the love of God.

Jesus says in Luke 7:47, "the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little." The depths of my fallen humanity have forced me to see my own hatefulness, but that seems to be where my reflection ends. It should also illuminate to me the immensity of the Divine Love. The depth of our fall should not simply point out how weak and sinful we are, because if that was it who would want to be a Christian? The weight of it all is not only found in how depraved we are, but in how immense God's love is. St. Paul understood this paradox of our hatefulness and His love. He wrote in his letter to the Romans, "But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us." Why else would the Church proclaim that the fall was the felix culpa, the happy fault, if it did not bring us ultimately into the depths of God's love?

Merton also talks about the soul that truly understands the mercy and depth of God's love and is not consumed with self-hatred can truly partake in the parrhesia, that is, free speech. In the original state, Adam talked to God without fear and, in some sense, almost as an equal. God wants us to partake in this freedom of speech with Him. Rob Bell said once, "God can handle what you're thinking. God can handle how you're feeling. God can handle what you're saying. Prayer, if it's anything, is truth. It's being honest with your Maker." So, here we stand, broken, in need of God's hand. Only the soul who really understands God's infinite mercy and how it consumes all of our guilt that can cast aside the temptation to let guilt come between us and our relationship with God. He wishes to be united to us, He wishes to help make us like Himself, but if we continue to wallow in our shameful existence then how can we ever come to love? This life is a battle between the "old self" and the "new self" that God wishes to transform us into, far too often the "old self" continues to impose its guilt on us. We have to own the fact that despite our hatefulness, we are not hateful to Him.

Victory

"O, death, where is your sting?

O, hell, where is your victory?

O, Church, come stand in the light!

OUR GOD IS NOT DEAD!

HE'S ALIVE! HE'S ALIVE!"

The song "Christ is Risen" by Matt Maher has been on my heart a lot lately. The lyrics are based off of 1 Corinthians 15:55, "Death is swallowed up in victory, where, o death, is your victory? Where, o death, is your sting?" Christ is risen from the dead, in His passion and death He united Himself to us. Sin holds no power over us, but more often than not it seems that sin is more of my reality than grace is. The key, I suppose, to true holiness and, by default, to true happiness is found in the cross. It is in denying ourselves radically and truly practicing the art of growing in virtue that sin and death no longer hold sway over us. Christ has risen from the dead, trampling over death by death, but in order to partake in the fruit of Christ's death, we too must partake in His death. This must take root in our souls and change our very lives.

God Himself is extending His arms out to reach for us, we must reach back in the same fashion. Just as He reached out His arms on the cross, so must we reach out our arms on our crosses and crucify that which is within us that keeps us from Him. Saint Paul says in his letter to the Galatians, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live but He lives within me." Let that be my reality. His death must become the death of me, because it is only in dying that we truly discover what life is. In uniting ourselves with the cross we can too revel in the glory of resurrection. This is Christianity, not some abstract theological concept, no, it is what is meant to touch the very center of our existence and transform it into something greater. Our God is not dead, He's alive, He's alive! 

Detached

I am called to be detached from everything. My friendships, my things, my family, even my expectations of prayer I need to let go of altogether. If there is one thing that I am certain of it is this: my heart needs to be firmly rooted in my God and nothing else. In order to grow and be made perfect I need to let go of all that I allow to capture my heart. Jesus says in the gospel that we are to be perfect. He says to the rich young man, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me (Matthew 19:21)." Jesus said to go and give all you have and in order to do that we need to be truly detached.

 

Nothing can separate us from the love of Jesus Christ except those things that we choose to latch on to. Christ came so that we may have life and have it more abundantly but how many times do we just settle for the things we hold on to? The apostles left all they knew on the shores the day Jesus called them to cast aside their nets and follow Him. Luke's gospel confirms that the apostles, "left everything and followed him." They left behind all of it, the good, the bad, the triumphs, the sorrows and followed Him. God alone suffices and if we cannot detach ourselves from the things that we hold so dear we have absolutely no right to call ourselves Christians. If we cannot drop all that God has given us the instant He calls us to something new then we can be certain that the only reason we loved God, if indeed it can be called love, is for His gifts. I'm tired of seeking the gifts, I want to be detached to fall truly in love with the Giver. Christ, be the center of my life.

Alone

"For You alone are Father, and You alone are good,

And You alone are Savior, and You alone are God...

I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive,

I'm alive, I'm alive..." -David Crowder

There is something glorious about realizing and proclaiming that here, now, at this precise moment in time I am alive. I think that this awe-inspiring good  is far too often overlooked. This is it, the starting of my Senior year of college and once again God has placed me in St. Joseph hall. Sick twisted joke? Or Divine providence calling me back to Himself? The fruit of this year will show the answer to that, one way or another. 

In reality, the relationships that I cherished as keys to my relationship with God actually became a hinderance last year. The simple fact of the matter is that God is calling me out of my save zone and challenging me once again by asking me, "Are you here for the community, or are you here for the God of the community?" This question has continually popped up through my faith walk and once again I'm just now coming to realizing that praying with the community, and talking about God with the community is not the same thing as being in relationship with the God of the community. My relationships with my brothers are always going to hold a special place in my heart, but right now, at this moment in time, I'm alive. Just as I want to proclaim that from the rooftops to my God as a song of praise, God wants to proclaim that exact same phrase to me even more than I could even imagine wanting to exclaim it to Him. This is it, this is God shouting out to me that He is alive and He is doing wondrous things in me, and if it took me being dragged from my group of friends and being shoved back into the Joe as an RA, then amen, so be it.

Tonight

This past week has been bizarre. I've been home alone at the McGown's, which I am so thankful for, but it was still quite strange to just be living at their house and not having any of them here. Today I just had this resounding desire to be at home, I don't know why, but it weighed heavy on my heart all day. I think in part it was spurned on by talking with Stacy last night on the drive to O'Malley's. Talking with her and reminiscing about my time in Life Teen at St. Tim's just did something to me. I don't know, it's weird.

I bought the Black Eyed Peas song, "I Gotta Feeling" and the bridge just goes, "I got a feeling that tonight's going to be a good night, that tonight's going to be a good good night." That's all that it says and like it just sunk in with me and resonated with something that Billie Sue had told me a couple years ago. She told me one afternoon, "Well, we can't change everything around us, but we can change our perceptions of everything around us." This song by the Black Eyed Peas, aside from the materialistic side of it, kind of brushes on this idea. I need to change my perception of everything to make things seem lighter for me.