Comfort, Questions, Joy and the Big Lie

Chapter 33: Comfortably Comfortable

Pink Floyd had a song back around 1980 called "Comfortably Numb." It was on an album called "The Wall" that was about a psychological retreat from reality and the pain it brings. In "Comfortably Numb," the singer slips gradually into a state of unfeeling. "You are receding," the lyrics go. "You lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying." And the refrain: "I have become comfortably numb."

Have you ever wished you could just let go of the world and all the stress, the pain, the agony and expectations? Just slip into a cocoon for awhile? Surely we all have at one time or another.

At the very least, we like to get comfortable. As much as we can arrange for it. We see advertising touting comfort. Everything from shoes to cars to homes and furniture, it's all about comfort. We talk about our "comfort zones" and how we should occasionally step outside of those areas in which we feel at ease -- perhaps physical zones, but perhaps in terms of taking on new projects, learning new skills, trying new experiences, reaching out to people we may not feel particularly comfortable with? Yes, that.

Then comes a question: Is comfort good for us? Remember the "if it feels good, do it" 1980s? And today, we have televangelists (still) who preach what is sometimes called "The Gospel of Prosperity." You know what I mean, the ones who tell you if you just make one more donation to their organization, that God will finally bestow  on you the blessings He wants to give you? The ones who say you can tell whether you are "right with God" by how well off and comfortable you are. New car, fancy house, great job with a fat bank account? You must be doing something right, they say.

What does Jesus have to say about comfort? Turns out he didn't say much about comfort at all. He did have a lot to say about getting uncomfortable, about denying ourselves. Not a popular concept, not even today. When I say something about self-denial to people, I inevitably get this strange look. "Why would you want to do that?" they ask.

Well, that's because we aren't really supposed to get comfortable on this Earth. Comfort is a relative thing, and it's a word that has many meanings. But generally, Jesus wanted people to get outside their comfort zones, as we would say today. To try things that stretched their sensibilities. Like dining with sinneres, or going out on a mission to spread his message in places where the people might not be so friendly, or believing they, too, could walk on water or know what to say without preparing themselves ahead of time.

The author of "Rediscover Jesus" says we are not supposed to get comfortable here on Earth because we are just passing through. We are here for just a short time, in the big scheme of things. That's n ot morbid, it's just the way it is.

And self-denial, he points out, is a great life skill. It's the only way to have a successful marriage, successful friendships and other relationships, to succeed at work, to be a good parent, to manage your personal finances. All by delaying gratification -- ie self-denial.

You can start small and build up. There's a cumulative effect. It helps us cut to the chase and opens us to the grace we need to overcome sinfulness and power through adversity.

Point to ponder: Being too comfortable, too often, makes us weak in mind, body and spirit.

Verse: "If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross, and follow me." Matthew 16:24

What is one way you can deny yourself today:

That's a question you can ask of yourself every day. Perhaps every hour.

I can deny myself snacks I don't need -- but not nourishment my body needs.

I can say no to wasting time.

And I can deny myself by saying "yes" to something I don't really want to do. Like doing one more load of laundry, or getting the dishes out of the way immediately after dinner.

I can deny myself by jumping out of bed and showering before I drink my coffee, when I"d much rather sit in bed and read while I drink my coffee.

I can deny myself (or delay gratification) by staying away from stores where I'm tempted to buy things I don't really need. I can spend a day off organizing household papers and clearing clutter instead of watching a movie or just surfing the web.

See how easy it is? Can you get comfortable outside your own comfort zone?

Chapter 34: Two Wrestling Questions

"You can't always get what you want," sang Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones. "But if you try sometime, you might just find you get what you need." Wise words from a rock and roll star.

The author points out that unless you ask the right questions, you'll never get the right answers. Sort of like "be careful what you pray for." What do you really want out of life?

Do you know? This reminds me of a bookmark I found many years ago. It has a prayer on it about never getting what you ask for, and yet in the end, getting everything you need and finding yourself a man (or woman) most richly blessed because of it.

What do I want? I used to think I wanted a bigger house (never enough room, never enough storage at my house) but now, I think I just want more storage space. And less furniture, less stuff to have to take care of.

I think what I want is more time. More time to spend in nature, more time to sit and read. More time to learn new things. More time to practice what I enjoy most (writing and making music among them). More time to be contemplative, to think, to muse and ponder.

And then there's another whole question: What does God want?
delayed
I have a couple of coffee mugs that I am especially fond of. One is white with blue morning glories swirling around it. It says "A simple life is its own reward." I knew that was special even before I had contemplated what it means. Back when I was still accumulating stuff. It was a gift from a student in a religious ed class I taught, I believe she was one of my fifth-graders. Now I believe that's not only true, but really important. You wouldn't know it by following what I do, though. My life is not yet simplified. But I know where I need to head.

The other has pink rose-like flowers. It has a whole prayer on it that boils down to this: Lord, let me live one day at a time, ... doing your will and not my own (that's paraphrased) with my heart set on eternity.

So what does God really want? The answer is kind of astounding. God wants us to be filled with complete joy. He wants to share his joy with us, completely. And we spend a good part of our lives on Earth rejecting that love, avoiding it, why?

Pink Floyd's lead singer, Roger Waters, left the band and struck out on a solo career. One of the songs he sang as a solo act (well, with his own new band, not Pink Floyd) included this lyric: What God wants, God gets.

Does he? I'm not so sure. If he wants all of us to live lives that will allow us to share in his complete joy, he's not getting everything he wants because we are not a compliant bunch of people.

And it's not that God just withholds this joy until we do as he says. No, it's we who refuse to open ourselves in a way that would allow us to accept that joy. We have filled our hearts with so much hatred, bias, prejudice, selfishness, jealousy, greed, sloth, pride and dishonesty, we are not capable of experiencing God's complete joy. We have to shed all those things, and in order to do that, we have to tune into God's bandwidth, to focus on him and stop being distracted by worldly things.

The funny thing is, none of those things we refuse to let go of bring us any closer to the joy we want. Because we do, right? We want to be filled with God's complete joy, but we look for it in all the wrong places.

Verse: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace." Romans 15:13

Isn't that a beautiful Scripture passage?

Does getting what you want bring you lasting happiness?

There's a loaded question. I would change it, if it was up to me, to say "Does getting what you THINK YOU want bring you lasting happiness.

It's funny, I can remember all the way back to childhood. I would always be sure if I just got one more doll, one more toy, whatever the newest popular toy (as seen on television) happened to be, if I could just have it, I'd be so happy. I'd never want anything else. Ever.

But I quickly learned how each time I got something I wanted (and  it didn't happen every day, believe me), it never lived up to that promise.

I remember begging my father one year when I was a teenager for a $10 pair of jeans that was in the local mall in a popular boutique. I begged for weeks before I finally got them. And  you know what? It was just another pair of pants. Those jeans didn't make me more popular at school, didn't make me feel beautiful or glamorous, nada. Just a pair of pants. I still have those pants, believe it or not. I can still wear them, in fact. But I don't.

And another time, when I was much younger, there was a little tiny plastic doll that I wanted beyond all reasonable wanting. It looked like so much fun on TV when the little children who were actors in the commercials would play with them. I slipped one into my pocket at the grocery store one day, never got caught, and never enjoyed a single minute with it.

But on the other hand, in the years after my husband and I were married, after our two sons arrived on the scene, we decided we wanted to belong to a church. We shopped around, and myself, I hadn't been to a Catholic Mass in a lot of years (since fourth grade, really) and never really considered that it was possible to go back. But no other church we attended did anything for me. Long story short, we attended a funeral for a Catholic member of his family, and we were hooked. I wanted to be Catholic again even more than I had wanted those pants or that toy, and it took us two years to get through all the classes and paperwork and whatnot it took to get there. And this goal, it's meant more to us than just about anything. It has literally changed my life and who I am, all for the better.

So I guess it really is a matter of asking the right questions, asking for the right things.

Chapter 35: Complete Joy

Can we find complete joy in a throwaway, disposable world? Can we be satisfied with a pale shadow of the real deal?

Nah. If we could find lasting happiness, joy and meaning in trinkets and empty promises, we'd all be drowning in joy.

And yet, I've not only experienced for myself but seen and heard others express the same realization: That we all have this empty pit inside that yearns for something that seems unattainable until we find Jesus and get acquainted. We are created for this, and indeed, are hardwired to yearn for God's love.

But there's a catch, sort of. No, God isn't teasing us with something that we have to jump through hoops to get. God just wants us to have it. Same way parents want their children to be happy. But we can't experience it until we are ready. And we aren't ready until we have denied ourselves things that rob us of happiness. Until we give up feeling angry, bitter, jealous, proud, hateful or holding grudges. Until we stop thinking of ourselves all the time and put the needs of others ahead of our own. Until we can develop an attitude of gratitude for what we have instead of resentment over what we don't have but think we need. That's when happiness and joy begin to fill the empty places in our hearts.

Verse: A joyful heart is life itself, and rejoicing lengthens one's life span." Sirach 30:22

What really brings you joy?

Right now, what brings me joy is when I can help someone else feel better, by giving them something as simple as a drink or a meal, a pair of socks or a warm sweater. When I learn something new. People can bring me joy just by being friendly. Kindness brings me joy, whether given or received. And sometimes, yes, comfort brings me a sort of joy. But not an overload of comfort. Just a little bit.

And I love this little prayer the author includes at the end of a tiny chapter:
Jesus, let me get out of the way so you can fill me with complete joy.

Chapter 36: The Biggest Lie

OK, that's an ominous sounding title.

So what is this "biggest lie"? Is it about being persecuted or about hypocrisy among Christians? Is it the damage done by intolerant people (including Christians) who portray Jesus as a dictator, stern and unforgiving? What is it?

The author writes that it's actually something we tell ourselves, that holiness is not possible.

He writes that we believe holiness is possible for our grandmothers or Medieval saints, but not for ourselves. I hadn't ever thought of holiness that way, but OK. I'll keep reading.

I can, however, see his point about this mis-belief sucking the life out of Christians. It's like being denied the prize. Every. Single. Time.

In church around Easter, we sing "Out of Darkness." This song tells us holiness is possible. We are a "holy nation, royal priesthood, walking in God's marvelous light." Sure sounds like holiness to me.

Are we confusing holiness with perfection? Perfection is not possible while we live on this Earth. But holiness? Sure.

In fact, in my various studies with groups of fellow Catholics, we've talked about being holy men and women, we've talked about how the saints were imperfect people just like us. Burt they are holy men and women, and we are too.

When did you stop believing holiness was possible for you?

Well, I don't think I stopped, once I figured out what it meant. It means that even though I both make mistakes and sometimes deliberately do or say things I know are wrong, for whatever reason (usually fear of something), I can still be a holy person by starting over and living my life going forward in a better way. By being more tolerant, more forgiving, more caring. I am my own harshest critic, yet I do try to be one of the "good guys" in my daily life.

I probably did think holiness was impossible for me when I was younger, when I was not anchored in a church, and particularly not in the Catholic Church. I also thought I could never achieve anything else in life, that I was a failure before I get out of the starting gate. I heard lots of people preaching at me, but never heard anything helpful.

And I am grateful now for all the opportunities that did arise for me, and grateful I was able to open the door and take advantage of some of them.

And so whenever I am able to live my beliefs, to touch someone else's life in a positive way, that's a holy moment. I don't talk about my beliefs a lot (except in this blog, or with certain people) but I do try to live my beliefs, to practice what I don't preach. I try to be honest, to be respectful of others, to listen and to be generous with my time and talents and treasures, to feed the hungry and give drink tot he thirsty, to comfort the imprisoned (which I believe involves more than literally being incarcerated) and clothe the naked.

But then there are all the things I fail to do: I don't always reach out when I should, I don't always visit people I should visit. I do get impatient and sometimes I don't want to forgive. I struggle not to be greedy or indifferent, at times. I'm not a saint but I can have my holy moments, when I fulfill in some small way what God wants of me.

The trick is to keep those failings from negating (in my own mind) the good things I do. I say this because if God will forgive me all those failings, if I can convince myself that he really does forgive me, then I owe it to others to try to do the same. Sort of like paying it forward. I went to a church pancake breakfast once, and I was standing in line to pay for my ticket, and when it was my turn at the table, the woman who was selling tickets told me the person in front of me had paid for my meal. I was flabbergasted. I did not know that person who had stood ahead of me in line.

And so the only thing to do was to pay for the person behind me. Pass it along, so to speak. If God forgives me, if he has not given up on me yet, then I owe it to him and to myself to keep trying.

It's been a busy Lent this year, and I am grateful for this obligation to myself and to Rose, to write these reflections down. Because it's likely I would put it off on my own until it was too late. It's now Holy Week, and Easter is imminent, pregnant with all the joy and celebration it promises us on Easter morning.

Miracles, Radical Love and ... the Main Event!

Personal Reflections

Chapter 19:
Have you ever wondered why God made himself manifest through miracles throughout the Old Testament days -- manna in the desert, the burning bush, speaking directly to the prophets, Jonah swallowed by a whale and surviving the ordeal? And Jesus during his time on Earth with us healing the sick, raising the dead, feeding the hungry by multiplying fishes and loaves, walking on water, calming the storm, turning water into wine?

Why don't we have miracles today to help us believe?

This chapter suggests that miracles are happening but we don't necessarily recognize them. I have thought that same thing for a long time now. It was easier back then, not so much because the miracles were so blatant, but because there was always someone around whom those miracles centered. And perhaps people were less cynical then? They certainly did not have as much scientific knowledge then.

We like to explain everything using our own knowledge and research. We've seen a lot of scams, con artists and deluded leaders, too. So it's good that we are not so naive as to fall for every con artist's line.

But miracles? They happen. People are healed with no good medical explanation. We make mistakes that could easily be fatal (like pulling in front of another vehicle on the road because we didn't see them coming, or because we misjudged their speed), yet somehow we remain unscathed. Our guardian angels on the job?

Whose prayer can you be the answer to today? 

We've all heard that God uses us to answer prayers. We've all had our prayers answered by someone else, in unexpected ways. We can do this in very ordinary ways, actually. By paying attention to others, to their needs and their pain, by getting outside of ourselves for once and reaching out, maybe even simply by smiling or holding a door for someone.

Visiting the sick, homebound or imprisoned, feeding the hungry, offering someone a ride to an appointment, stopping to help someone whose car is broken down (or just calling for help), taking a colleague out for coffee or lunch or just lending a shoulder and listening. All are ways to answer prayers or create small miracles for others.

And if we pay attention, we will begin to see miracles everywhere, every day. What a great change to make in our attitudes!

"The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do, in fact, will do greater works than these." John 14:12

Chapter 20:

Radical love? What is that? My perception and understanding of love is constantly changing. When I was young, love meant parents who provided for my needs and encouraged me, friends who would spend time with me and for the most part, as a child love involves more receiving than giving. Children are needy.

Later, love meant something more romantic, and it was often painful. Unrequited love is one of the great dramas of adolescence and young adulthood. It's a burning awareness of someone else (who may not even know you exist) and yet it's still a self-centered kind of love.

But becoming a parent means a radical shift into being the provider rather than the providee, and even those who do not become parents often have pets, or they may enter a profession that is more of a care-giving nature than the other way around. Adulthood usually involves some kind of shift like this.

But even this isn't enough. As my children became adults and gradually (finally) moved out of the house for good, I became even more aware of the needs of others and of the opportunities for me to help some of them. Having low self-esteem can get in the way of helping others, because you don't feel worthy of doing for someone else. Sadly, it is in that sense a self-centered state of mind, too, even though it's a negative kind of selfishness.

There's a lot of Scripture that talks about love.

Last Sunday we heard about the prodigal son who was so self-centered, he demanded his inheritance early, ran off and squandered every penny of it, then came back home to beg for a lowly job so he could survive. But his father had a better sense of love and so he pulled out all the stops to celebrate his lost son's return home, much to the chagrin of his other son who had stayed home and done what was right.

That's a kind of radical love on the part of the father. Not all fathers would be so overjoyed to see a son come home begging after squandering money he didn't earn or deserve.

But John 15:13 suggests an even more radical idea: "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."

And that's what Jesus did when he died on the cross. As God, he didn't have to go endure that agony. But he did.

Read I Corinthians 13:4-8 for more specifics on radical, unconditional love.

What are you laying down your life for?

That's an interesting way to phrase a question. I probably would have thought about WHO I am laying down my life for. But we make decisions all the time about our priorities in life. Am I laying down my life for work -- a career -- so I can have more power, buy a bigger house to live in, make others jealous, perhaps elevate ourselves in hopes someone will admire us or look up to us?

Or are we laying down our lives by way of sharing what we have with others who have less? Are we giving of our time, support, resources to help raise up others instead of benefiting ourselves? Do we trust God enough to do that, secure in our belief that our heavenly Father will not allow us to fail, that he will provide other people who will provide somehow for our needs? Or do we not care, as long as we are making someone else's life easier?

Radical love can enable us to do radical things. Some people choose radical bad things to do, as have many famous dictators, kings and evil men throughout history. Others have chosen radical good, even in our own lifetimes. Think of people like Mother Teresa of Calcutta aka Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, who devoted her life to helping the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, India. Or throughout history, those who have given their lives to the Church -- the unsung heroes as well as the well known saints. And speaking of unsung heroes, they are among us everywhere, quietly spreading love and healing.

What are you laying down your life for?

Chapter 21:

The main event? The Resurrection, Jesus executed by the Romans, at the urging of the Jewish people in Jerusalem, yet three days later, an empty tomb. This chapter shares a story by a journalist who was an atheist three decades or more ago, whose wife became a Christian. This journalist used his reporting and investigative skills to try to discredit the resurrection and save his marriage, for he did not believe he could remain married to a Christian. But he was unable to discredit it; in fact, he came to the conclusion after examining all the available evidence (in Scripture and in the historic records) that it would take greater faith to maintain his atheism than it would take to accept the resurrection as truth and become a believer!

This former atheist was at the time he set this account into writing celebrating his 30th Easter as a Christian. It wasn't just his research that turned him. He saw changes in his wife, in her behavior and attitudes. The more he looked into it, the more he realized he couldn't continue to argue against the existence of God. He still cannot prove that God is real but he found enough evidence to change his own heart, which is not what he had set out to do.

God wants to resurrect you in some specific way. What area of your life needs resurrection right now?

I want to turn that around, to ask what area of my life DOESN'T need resurrection right now? But that's a cop-out.

However, I don't think I can figure it out on my own. This is something I will have to spend some time figuring out in prayer. Or just allowing it to unfold by handing over more of my days to God and see where it leads.

Susan

To answer the invitation?

New Beginnings, Getting to Know Jesus and an Invitation
So many new beginnings in the cycles and routines of our lives: Each morning as  I shower and prepare for the day ahead is a new beginning. Each Monday marks a new beginning as the week stretches ahead of me. Each season (winter, spring, summer and fall) is a new beginning. Each liturgical season of the Church is a new beginning, starting with Advent, then Christmas, Lent and Easter, interspersed with what we call Ordinary Time, which is not what you would think. It's hardly ordinary in the sense of plain old regular nothing-special-about-it time. But it's marked off by ordinal numbers, week by week.

And more than any other season, Lent is a time to reflect on new beginnings. Remembering, reflecting and rethinking is what Lent is all about. Remembering our past. Reflecting on how we're doing, what we did well and what we might do better. Rethinking how we will handle our tomorrows.

Since each chapter has a question at the end, that's a good way to reflect each week.

In what area of your life is God inviting you to experience a new beginning?

That is easy. God has been after me for a couple of years now to embrace new experiences, actually, to embrace a new direction in life.

Two years ago my parish offered a Lenten prayer walk that focused on looking at life in Third World countries. It was an incredible eye-opener.

We've had a sister parish relationship with Our Lady of Mercy in Managua, Nicaragua for more than 2 decades. I've know about it, I've met the pastor when he has visited us. I've paid attention to the presentations from the pilgrimage made by members of our own parish every other year. But never did I feel moved by them to do anything (other than donate money) until last year.

We, Rose and I, reflected on the information last year, a year after the prayer walk: the stations that made up that prayer walk, which was all provided by Catholic Relief Services. I have not stopped thinking about this since.

For the past two years I have increasingly felt tugged to do something. I can't leave my job or take a sabbatical, because I can't afford to do without the income, and I'm not sure they'd let me come back if they had to do without me for an extended period of time.

But we have people here in my own community who live in wretched Thrid-World-like conditions -- the homeless. They are dirty, they don't smell good and some of them are crazy, even scary. I wanted to help but I didn't want to hand out money to panhandlers who may or may not actually be homeless, who might be scam artists or drug addicts. So I kept rationalizing and ignoring them, turning my head the other way so I would not have to make eye contact. I continued to give money to the sisters here who devote their lives to working with the poor and homeless, and I waited.

Last winter, a friend of mine who had been talking for some time about wanting to help the homeless started to collect used clothing to distribute, not through regular channels, but just ride around and give things to homeless people on the streets. Not money. Just clothing and maybe some food.

From that humble idea came an organization that began, thanks to another friend who worked with the founder, weekly "distribution runs" on a somewhat fluid but regular route around Salisbury. I began riding with him occasionally as a volunteer, and it has changed my life and my views completely.

I've met and talked with several homeless people. One lives behind my workplace in the woods with her service dog. She is turned away from shelters because of the dog, even though she has a legitimate service dog license. I've hugged grateful people who had tears in their eyes when we gave them a warm coat and a cup of chili or bean soup.

Our group is now a registered 501(c)(3) charity called From Roots To Wings. Our mission is, for the present, to distribute clothing, food, portable snacks, toiletries and other necessities to people each week. No questions asked. No judgments about whether they deserve what we are giving them. Just giving -- but never money.

Our future mission is to establish a "housing first" project in which storage pods are transformed into permanent but basic housing for the homeless, again, no questions asked. From there, we hope to engage them with services that will hep them get back on their feet to whatever extent they are capable. It's a very long-term mission.

So yes, God is calling me to a new beginning in how I spend my time and efforts to make our community better, and to make life better for those who have the least in our community.

How well do I really know Jesus?

Chapter 2 asks the reader to write down everything you know about Jesus. I wrote, quickly: God, man, teacher, Jewish, loving, born to Mary (a virgin), birthday celebrated as Christmas, source of Christian faith, high priest, humble man, homeless itinerant, forgiving, healer, miracle worker, able to raise the dead and cast out demons, walks on water, peaceful, slow to anger, with me all the time.

I sometimes imagine him sitting beside me or just having a conversation with me. I try to imagine what he would say, how he would answer my questions, what advice he would give me. It's as real as it's going to get until I leave this earthly realm. My prayer life, my formal, contemplative prayer life, is lacking because it's hard to slow down, hard to find quiet time alone. But what is lacking there is made up for at least in part by the fact that I can feel his presence with me all the time.

Today's homily (Feb. 21), well, one of the two homilies I heard this morning anyhow, was about not living in fear, no matter what dire fate you are told awaits. That we should not fear anything that's simply Earthly in nature. The other homily talked about how we should welcome and embrace death, but not seek it, only to accept it in God's time.

I feel I know Jesus -- on a scale of 1-10 -- at maybe a 4, because of that presence, and because I try to act on what I feel called to, in some fashion, ie I try to do what I am being told to do.

What area of your life will benefit most from accepting God's invitation to rediscover Jesus?

That's a complex question. And the honest answer is: I have no idea. How could I know? Maybe my self-esteem? My confidence? My ability to respond to my call? My ability to help others?

That's something that will be revealed as we go.

What does it all mean?

As Lent 2014 comes to an end and the joy of Easter approaches, our journey has led us to reflect on some of our weaknesses and habits that would be better left behind.

Fear, denial and avoidance are never productive, even when it might seem that way. When we fear failure, or success, we sabotage our own dreams and efforts. When we procrastinate, we put off the inevitable, and prevent ourselves from putting our best effort forward in the rush to just get it done at the last minute. When we please people at the expense of pleasing God, we have gotten off track. Criticizing others is a lame attempt to dispel self-doubt, and negative self-talk convinces us to aim low.

As the apostles were drawn unwittingly into the drama of Christ's passion and crucifixion, they had their moments of self-doubt, of criticizing one another and, at times, themselves. They experienced fear, they denied Christ himself, they got off track and tried to please themselves or make themselves look better in the eyes of humans, forgetting the radical lessons Jesus had taught them in their 3-year journey together.

What did Jesus do? He loved them all anyway. He gently (most of the time) steered them back where they needed to be. He offered them glimpses of his own glory, and God on occasion made the relationship between himself and his son manifest for all who had eyes to see.

He sent his disciples off to preach, telling them not to take anything at all with them, to shake off the dust of places where they were not accepted and keep going. He told them it was OK to accept what they were offered by the people they ministered to, that they were deserving, but also that they should accept what came their way.

Jesus often told his followers not to be afraid, that he would be with them until the end.

Lent is, in my opinion, the most beautiful of liturgical seasons, because of its simplicity, its severity even, but also because it takes us back to basics, to be humble of heart and to reflect on our lives, our actions, our words and on how our actions and words affect those around us. In one more week, we will celebrate Palm Sunday and then, ready or not, be flung headlong into Holy Week, when we will, in our own way, enter into the passion of Christ ourselves before celebrating the joy of Easter, of resurrection and new life.

Without our own journey into the desert of Lent, the joy of Easter would be lost in the busy-ness of everyday life.

Lent reminds us to think of others, to know that as special as we may be, we are given what we have to share with others, and the greatest riches are found in learning to be poor in spirit and to serve one another as members of a community of faith, to reach out and touch one another as we are able.

May the peace of Christ be with you.

Don't Wait

What would you do if Jesus appeared before you right now and said, "Follow me?"  Would you jump up and run after him, like Matthew the tax collector?  Or would you respond like this slacker, who said,  "Master, I am ready to follow you.  But first excuse me while I get things straightened out at home."  (Luke 9:61)

Procrastination can be a difficult challenge for many people.  A piece of practical advice I give my clients is one I often use myself.  If you have a particularly onerous task to do, set a timer for 15 minutes, with the promise you can stop once the timer goes off.  Then begin the task.  More often than not, once the fifteen minutes is up, you won't have a problem finishing what you started.

But cleaning the closet isn't quite the same as responding to God's call to discipleship.  For one thing, you will eventually get that closet done.  But, once you start being a disciple, it's just the opposite. You'll never finish what you started.

What's your favorite way to procrastinate?  Are you  a thrill-seeker, waiting for the rush that comes from waiting until the last minute?  Or do you just refuse to make a decision, thinking that absolves you from how events turn out?  Maybe you are plagued by fears of failure and worries about what others might think of you.  Maybe it's easier to let others think you simply lack the effort, rather than the ability.

Procrastination, simply put, is the act of delaying or postponing something.  Jesus confronted it with compassion many times during his ministry.  Whatever your procrastination style, I think Jesus has an answer for you:

If you're a thrill-seeker type, he would say, "As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me.  Night is coming, when no one can work." (John 9:4)  So ask God for a spirit of industry.

If you're afraid of failure, he would say, "Don't be afraid, little flock.  It gives your Father great happiness to give you the kingdom."  (Luke 12:32)  So ask God for a spirit of faith.

If you're indecisive, he would say, "You can't put God's kingdom off till tomorrow.  Seize the day." (Luke 9:62) So ask God for a spirit of courage.

Then, with faith, courage and industry, let us begin.  Because God doesn't want us to put off doing good for others.

Pax et Bonum,
Rose

Are You ANTsy Like Me?

The other day I was sitting on the couch with my husband John, reading a book.  He was, I thought, doing the same.  Suddenly, from his direction, I hear him say, "uh-huh."  I glance over to see he is nodding.  Just then, he gives a thumbs-up sign.  "John, who are you talking to over there," I ask. He responds, naturally, "Myself."

Talking to ourselves is natural.  We do it all the time, although not usually in a manner that others will notice.  I suppose, however, in the comfort of your own home you might not mind engaging in a more animated conversation with yourself.   That's certainly the case with John.  He debates politics with himself, problem solves plumbing problems and such out loud, chuckles at punchlines to private jokes, amazes himself with some inner revelation with an emphatic "Wow!"

I've grown used to these disconcerting one-sided dialogues, and comforted by the fact he swears he is only talking to himself!  Also, I've noticed, his thoughts are mostly positive.

Unlike me.  According to research we have about 50,000 thoughts a day.  Most of these are automatic.  Most of mine are negative.   They scurry around in my brain like an industrious colony of ants carrying little crumbs of misinformation I too often mistake as the truth.  You might say I suffer from ANTs:  Automatic Negative Thought syndrome.

Not that I don't have good reasons for bad thoughts, what with my background.  But what I've learned over the years is that "the war for a positive mind is fought on the battlefield of focus."  It's up to me to choose where I'll put my focus.  Will I put it on the ants?  Or will I put it on the truth?

Pilate asked Jesus once, "What is truth?"  Not realizing, I suppose, he was actually talking to the Truth.  Because truth is not an "it."  It's a living reality.  A warm, loving reality that wishes to befriend us, to walk by our sides, and encourage us.  If I talked to Jesus the way I talk to myself sometimes, I don't think I'd be his friend for long.  But he is my friend.  He only has words of comfort and encouragement for me.

You know, just to clarify...John doesn't only to himself.  He talks to me, too.  In fact, John has talked me out of the ant colony more than a few times during the course of our marriage.   Once, when going through a particularly pernicious depression, he had me read Norman Vincent Peale pamphlets every day.  Which, you know, is a grueling task when you're depressed.  But I stuck with it.  I knew I was turning the corner when I joked one day, "John, I must be the most positive thinking major depressive in America!"

Fortunately, that ant colony in my brain is only the fraction of the size it used to be.  I am grateful, indeed, for the pest controllers God has put in my life to help me get rid of them:  John, Norman Vincent Peale, the Bible, my friends.  And, of course, my best friend...Jesus.  Without him, I don't know where I'd be today.  Probably buried in an anthill!

Pax et Bonum,
Rose

Failure: There are Worse Things to Fear

The fear of failure has been on my mind a lot recently since I decided to start a new business.  I haven't stopped my old business.  I just added something on, something I think could generate some additional passive income for me and my husband as we move towards retirement.

It is very daunting to start a new business at 57 years of age.  I try to tell myself many people have made their fortunes later in life.  Colonel Sanders started Kentucky Fried Chicken when he was 65, for instance.  Grandma Moses first art exhibition was held in a drugstore when she was 78 years old.

When I hear stories like that, I am very inspired.  I think to myself, "Gee, maybe I should wait until I'm 65!  Or even 78!"  Seriously.  I do think that.  Because starting a business at 57 is a lot of work, and I'm already tired.  Maybe by 65 I'll be rested up enough to really give it a go.

Honestly, though, I don't think I'm afraid of failure nearly as much as success.  Success could be even more daunting.  I could have more responsibilities and a super busy lifestyle, and a whole new set of problems.  How would I handle more money than I need?.  Do I want new, time consuming challenges to dominate my life?  Do I really need my life to be rich, rewarding and full of meaning?

Seriously, these crazy thoughts go through my head all the time.  My only comfort is knowing the future of my new business really doesn't matter..  What if I fail?  The opinion of only one person matters to me, and I know he doesn't care.  I know already what he would say to me. To paraphrase Matthew's gospel, "Don't lose your priceless soul for few lousy, extra bucks."

And if I succeed?

I recently read the story of a man who died.  Before he was resuscitated, he had a harrowing experience of being dragged into hell by beastly spirits.  Then, as a last ditch effort, this lifelong atheist called out to God.  Immediately, Jesus and his angels came.  They spoke for awhile, reviewing his life up until that moment.  Now, as it happened, this man was a very successful business man.  What amazed him was that neither Jesus nor the angels were impressed by his worldly acumen.  In fact, the only experience in his entire life that impressed them was a moment when he was a child of ten.  His sister was in her bedroom, crying.  He walked in, climbed on her bed, and wrapped his arms around her.  He stayed there until she calmed down.

 The rest of his accomplishments, apart from this, were so much chopped liver.

Pax et Bonum,
Rose

Love has Come for Us All

Years ago, I used to hang out at All Saints Convent in Catonsville, Maryland.  The Convent had a beautiful scriptorium full of holy cards that were hand painted by the sisters.  Each card had a picture and a saying.  It may be a scripture, or something wise and uplifting said by a holy person.

One card in particular stood out to me.  In it a little boy is kneeling on the ground.  He seems to be gathering flowers into a little bouquet.  From the message, you can read his intent:  "Go; nothing is better for the soul than to make another soul less sad."  

As a dysthymic, I am well acquainted with the problem of negative thinking.  My mind can be a weed patch overgrown with negative thoughts, rather than a garden blooming with flowers of peace, love and joy.  I also know, as an introvert, that the worst possible thing I can do for myself is to try to weed my own patch.  To paraphrase Jesus' warning about not sweeping the house clean just so it can be possessed by seven more devils, I've learned that if I tear up one weedy thought hastily and without care, ten more are likely to grab its place.

Over the years, however, I have discovered two important tools to help free me from the tyranny of the mind bent on its own destruction.  One is Adoration.

Adoration, or sitting quietly before the Blessed Sacrament, first and foremost offers me the opportunity to know I am not alone with my thoughts, no matter how painful they may be.  Just as Jesus asked his disciples to watch with him during his hour of suffering, in Adoration, he is watching with me.

In addition, it allows me the chance to let negative thoughts simply come and go.  I've used different visuals to help me in that process, one for each of the four seasons:  

• In the winter, my thoughts are snowflakes that disappear in a roaring campfire
• In the spring, my thoughts are bits of pollen carried away by birds, bees and butterflies to far distant fields where they can't bother me.
• In the summer, they are ripe dandelions, sending their fluff up into the air and away, away.
• In the fall, they are dry, brown leaves falling to earth, becoming one with it as they decay.

Each of these images helps me to remember how impermanent are my thoughts.  It gives me a moment to realize I can live without them.  I don't have to worry, be angry, obsess, daydream, live in the future, live in the past.

Lastly, it teaches me that in the absences of my self-absorbed thoughts, I can open myself to God's thoughts for me.

I've alluded already to the other tool.  Get the hell out of dodge, to paraphrase Pascal.  In other words, service.  Go weed someone else's patch.  Comfort the sick.  Visit the prisoner.  Clothe the naked.  Feed the poor.  

For one blessed second, forget yourself and preach the good news.  God is Love.  Love has come for us all.  

When you preach that message, whether in deeds or in words, you help others let go of the worst negative thought any one of us can ever think:  "No one cares for me."   

Instead, they'll say, "Thanks for thinking of me."  

Pax et Bonum,

Rose

Self Doubt

I think of self-doubt being like the Chinese finger trap.  Although in my imagination, it’s my feet caught in the trap, not my fingers.  In reality, it’s actually my mind caught in the trap of action-paralyzing thoughts.

Can I trust myself?  Will I follow through?  Am I for real?  Do I really mean it?  Can I do it?

Questions like these can keep me from taking a single step towards my goals, whatever they might be.  But look what happens when I simply change a question into a statement:

I can trust myself.

I will follow through.

I am for real.

I really mean it.

I can do it.

I suddenly feel more self-empowered.  I believe in myself, even if only an eensy-teensy bit.  Say, who is that Wonder Woman in the mirror, I find myself asking.

I wonder if believing in yourself is one of the lessons Jesus hoped his disciples would learn when he told them the parable of the ten talents:

 “It’s also like a man going off on an extended trip. He called his servants together and delegated responsibilities. To one he gave five thousand dollars, to another two thousand, to a third one thousand, depending on their abilities. Then he left. Right off, the first servant went to work and doubled his master’s investment. The second did the same. But the man with the single thousand dug a hole and carefully buried his master’s money.

 “After a long absence, the master of those three servants came back and settled up with them. The one given five thousand dollars showed him how he had doubled his investment. His master commended him: ‘Good work! You did your job well. From now on be my partner.’

 “The servant with the two thousand showed how he also had doubled his master’s investment. His master commended him: ‘Good work! You did your job well. From now on be my partner.’

“The servant given one thousand said, ‘Master, I know you have high standards and hate careless ways, that you demand the best and make no allowances for error. I was afraid I might disappoint you, so I found a good hiding place and secured your money. Here it is, safe and sound down to the last cent.’

“The master was furious. ‘That’s a terrible way to live! It’s criminal to live cautiously like that! If you knew I was after the best, why did you do less than the least? The least you could have done would have been to invest the sum with the bankers, where at least I would have gotten a little interest.

 “‘Take the thousand and give it to the one who risked the most. And get rid of this “play-it-safe” who won’t go out on a limb. Throw him out into utter darkness.’

Fortunately, I don’t identify with the play-it-safe guy.  On the other hand, I don’t see myself as  a shrewd and talented investor in the Game of Life.  I guess I’m somewhere in between.  But I am reassured that Jesus likes the person who takes a risk, who goes out on a limb, the one who is scared he will fail, and maybe just as afraid he’ll succeed. 

I guess it’s normal to be all over the map, right?  One day you’re applying all your skill to realizing the kingdom of God.  Another day you’re searching for the lucky slot machine that’ll make having to trust God for your daily bread a thing of the past.  Another, you’re playing Words With Friends on your Boyfriend (my husband John’s nickname for my phone) all day, wishing God would just get back from that damn business trip.  Then you’re back to “thy kingdom come!” 

Well, no matter where you are on the cycle this Lent, remember that God believes in you.  Just like this little girl believes in herself.

Pax et Bonum,

Rose

Seven Pages a Day: And They Said It Couldn’t Be Done

Well, I did it! I finished the New Testament in 40 days. Actually, I finished a few days early, which—as you’ll see—turned out to be a good thing.

Today is the last day of Lent. The Triduum begins tomorrow evening. The next three days are the most sacred days in the Christian calendar. It begins with the celebration of the Last Supper and Institution of the Holy Eucharist. It continues with Good Friday—good because of Christ’s atoning death—and culminates on Easter with the marvelous resurrection of our Savior, which is the foretaste of our own glorification.

I chose to read Revelation last because, well, it’s the last book of the New Testament. Wow. It was like reading a mini-version of The Lord of the Rings. I LOVED it! If you don’t know, Revelation was written by John while he was exiled on the Island of Patmos. It records a series of visions experienced by John. A lot of people have racked their brains trying to figure out to what or whom each of the symbols refers. It’s hard to say. Some are obviously relevant to the time in which John lived. But given the plot of the book is the universal and timeless battle between good and evil, it’s hard to tell.

Personally, I think Revelation can be fulfilled again and again. It probably will be until the end of time, when “(t)here will be no more night” and “(we) will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give (us) light. And (we) will reign for ever and ever.” (Rev. 22:5) with Christ, “the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End (Rev. 22:13).” To that I say, “So be it! Lord Jesus, come!” (Rev. 22:20).

I also think Revelation, with its call to keep faith until that day comes, speaks to our personal Armageddon—the last battle before the day of judgment. In that sense, we are all living in the end times, because when we die…well, that’s the end of time for us! Armageddons come in all shapes and sizes, too. But they all give us the opportunity to “go on doing good (Rev. 20: 11).”

John and I have been facing one of these Armageddons since vacation last week. First, we both broke our phones, which plunged us deep into the bowels of Cricket Phone Hell. After emerging victorious from there, brandishing new phones like shining swords, we were confronted with a mouse infestation in our kitchen. Ugh. John bought mousetraps. I sought wisdom on mouse control from my peeps on Facebook. Spot, our cat, continued grooming herself.  Not a mouser bone in her body.  We’re doing everything to make our home uninviting to them without having to kill them.  It’s not the easiest route. 

Still in the midst of this battle, we were confronted with another attack from the dark side. Halfway through the rinse cycle, the washer died. Of course, that was the load that had all our underwear. John found out it couldn’t be fixed, which meant another $$ ding we weren’t expecting. Plus, I had the pleasure of dragging out every last piece of clothing from the washer, ringing it out and throwing it in the dryer. This activity distracted me from the sound of water running in my office, which turned out to be coming from a broken toilet.

And yet, somehow, through it all we kept our peace.  Did reading the New Testament in 40 days  help?  I like to think so.  It was a reminder that when I set my mind to it, I can do just about anything and face about any trial.  Because with God, nothing is impossible.

Have a blessed and holy Easter. 

Seven Pages a Day: Living the Dream

Let me tell you the best way to read fairy tales:  snuggled under a blanket on an overstuffed couch with your favorite wiggleworm tucked under your arm. 

Let me tell you the worst way to read the Gospel of John:  in a metal trailer with the acoustics of Carnegie hall, walls the consistency of typing paper, an adorable three year old (my third cousin and favorite wiggleworm, Ivan) and an entirely edible 11month old (his little sister, Emma). 

But I did it!  I read my seven pages a day while visiting my cousins on Rosebud Reservation.  Granted, the words rattled off the page and around in my head like pebbles in a tin can.  Therefore, comprehension, like visibility in a blizzard, was low.  Memory retention was not much better…about as good as a woman deep into menopause.

Most of the time has been spent with my most excellent second cousins, Lucero and Jonathan, and Lucero’s husband Geo (cousin-in-law?) and their two aforementioned children.  Sadly, their other brother Alex, who is working in Alaska, couldn’t join us.  Lucero, Jonathan and Alex are the kids of my first cousin, Shawn and her husband Al, who is…aww, heck, forget.  We’re all just family.

Lucero works for Teach for America.  Teach For America (TFA) is an American non-profit organization that aims to eliminate educational inequity by enlisting recent college graduates and professionals to teach for two or more years in low-income communities throughout the United States.  She teaches fourth grade at St. Francis Mission School in St. Francis, SD.  St. Francis Mission is a ministry of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits) among the 20,000 Lakota (Sioux) people on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in south-central South Dakota.

Lucero leaves for school between 7 and 8am.  During the day, while Lucero teaches, her husband and brother take care of the children.  I feel like I’ve been in a Language Immersion intensive all week, because Jonathan and Geo (who is from the Honduras) both speak Spanish and English to Ivan and Emma.  Last fall I took a seven week beginners Spanish class.  I’m happy to say most of the time I was able to follow some of the simpler conversations. 

While they care for the kids, both Geo and Jonathan find time to fix tasty meals of fried bread and eggs, pancakes with fried apples, fried steak and vegetables, rice and refried beans.  At some point in the day, we were taken on walks with their feisty pup, Oso (Spanish for Bear, because he looked like a bear as a baby) to tour the small town of St. Francis.  At other points we were taken on walks with Geo and their two legged feisty pup, Ivan, to the jungle gym.  This is affectionately called “Mas” for “more” by Ivan and family, because Ivan always wants “mas, mas!” 

Somehow, breakfast and lunch have appeared amidst all this activity, and then it’s time for dinner.  An exhausted Lucero arrives home around 7pm after a day of working with her youngsters.  She unwinds just long enough to eat and play with her much-loved children before we all think it’s about time to pass out.  This is Lucero’s routine except for the few nights she goes to school at the Sinte Gleska University.

Even in the midst of all this hustle and bustle, Jonathan has been a generous host.  He took the time to arrange tours of the Buechel Memorial Lakota Museum in St. Francis (named for Jesuit priest Fr. Buechel).  The Museum's purpose is to show the enduring respect for the traditions, culture, and history of the Lakota of the Rosebud Reservation. Named after Father Eugene Buechel, S.J., a noted missionary, linguist, and ethnologist who came to St. Francis Mission in 1902, the museum contains many unique artifacts, images, and documents.

We also toured St. Charles Borromeo Church.  It’s a beautiful lavender structure built in 1921, following a fire that destroyed it in 1916.   It blends traditional Lakota artwork with the story of Christ told through leaded stained glass windows and the Stations of the Cross.

Jonathan also played tour director, guiding us through South Dakota to Pine Ridge in Pine Ridge Reservation and on to within spitting distance of the Black Hills.  We also walked along the edges of the breathtaking badlands.

In Pine Ridge, we visited Higher Grounds, a coffee house there that would rival any in Chicago, before going to White Clay, where we bought a quilt made by the women of Pine Ridge.   After that we visited the Heritage Center, located on the property of the Red Cloud Indian School.  This center is managed by the Jesuits, as well.  It seeks to strengthen cultural pride and celebrate, as well as preserve, the local Lakota cultural artistic and tradition. 

Then we went to Wounded Knee, a piece of American history that still breaks my heart.  The museum was closed, but we were able to climb the hill to the cemetery and view the mass grave where the Indians were tossed after the massacre.  Frankly, I was glad the museum was closed.  It seemed more fitting to simply mourn the horror of what had happened there.

On Thursday, our last day here, we talked Lucero into calling in “sick” to work so we can spend the day together and have a picnic in the Niobrara Wildlife Refuge.  Of course, it rained.  Lucero, John, and Jonathan made us apple pancakes for breakfast instead while I worked on my blog and Geo played with Emma.   Ivan played with a musical toy, which got a sick to the stomach.   I was required to fix it.  This led to Ivan’s first lesson in clearing chakras.  Oso sat at my feet eating…hey, Oso! Stop that!  No!  No paper!  Oh well, too late.

Later that afternoon we were able to visit the NWR.  I have never seen Prairie dogs before.  Boy, were they adorable!  We also got to drive right through a small herd of buffalo.  What gentle creatures. 

Geo, Lucero and Jonathan have shared with us this week their dreams of buying a farm on the east coast in a few years.  They plan to raise their own organic vegetables and start a restaurant.  Other possibilities are all a part of this dream—gardens for meditation, flower essences, essential oils and herbs, a bed and breakfast, a place to raise their children that is as close to off the grid as this country will allow anymore.   Jonathan tells me of their love for family, the importance of maintaining connections to the generations behind and beyond.  I watch Geo during these conversations, often silent because of the language barrier between us, and consider the sacrifices he has made in leaving his family behind in the Hondoras.  I am amazed  by his love for and dedication to his new, little family here in North America. 

Maybe they wouldn’t agree, but I think they have already begun to live their dream.  In order to survive a family must be generous, welcoming, hardworking, sacrificial, and forgiving.  I saw all these qualities and so many more in the day-to-day activities of my cousins—my little bit of extended family.  It is humbling and inspiring to me, especially when I consider what a shambles my own "family of origin" is in—held together in my heart right now by nothing more than grit and prayer. 

Was Jesus feeling the same sadness for lost family the last night of his life, when he prayed for the disciples that he was about to leave, and for all those who would believe in him in the future (John 17)? He probably saw the same thing happening to the family he sought to create in his three short years of ministry.  There would be disastrous betrayals that would cause irreparable loss as well as enduring commitments that would continue to draw people together in spite of themselves. 

He would pray for them all to be one in the Spirit of Love, which is God.  He would ask that they love one another, which is the gospel.  It was his dream, his most precious dream.  I’m happy to report it’s alive and well, and living in a little trailer in St. Francis, South Dakota. 

Well, that’s it for the Gospel of John.  I’d say more if I could, but I’ve been too busy this week.  Gotta go now. We’re off for another adventure…one more before I go.

Seven Pages a Day: Chock Full O'Wisdom

Hello, faithful readers! Well, here we are a mere week and a few from Palm Sunday. Where did this Lent fly? I’ve managed to read nine more letters, on which I’ve reported below.

This will probably be my last blog for at least a week. This Sunday my husband John and I will be traveling to South Dakota to visit my cousin Lucero and her family. She is living and teaching on the Rosebud Reservation as a volunteer for Teach for America. I’m so proud of her!

We’re very excited about the trip, but I am a little worried about how well I’ll be able to keep up with my Lenten commitment to read the entire New Testament by Holy Thursday. Fortunately, I only have three books left: Acts, Revelations and the Gospel of John. I’m having a hard time deciding which one to read next. Maybe I’ll flip a coin. Wait, I’d need a three-headed coin for that. Well, I’ll figure it out.

Meanwhile...

1^stTimothy: This is one of three letters grouped together as the Pastoral Epistles, along with 2^nd Timothy and Titus. They are so called because they are addressed to Timothy and Titus, two young men ordained as pastors to the early churches. I may have been more charmed if one of the pastors was a woman.  Reading any one of these letters will work just as well as Ambien.

Philemon: This is a brief but touching letter in which Paul pleads on the behalf of Philemon’s runaway slave, Onesimus, turned Paul’s spiritual son. It is very tender, and has much to say about the power of forgiveness.

Hebrews: This book starts out like the notes from that really boring Christian Theology 101 class you took in Freshman year of College from the 1000 year old professor whose unruly nose hair both fascinated and repulsed you. But then you hit Chapter 11 and you are wowed. Here the author describes with ecstatic eloquence the heroes (uh, more heroines, please!) of faith we are called to emulate. Chapter 11 helps to make more sense out of Chapter 12—if our forebears suffered for the gift of faith, then who do we think we are to escape a similar fate? But then it’s back to more advice on the daily grind. Ho hum.

James: This letter bounces around a bit, discussing a number of issues germane to living a deeply spiritual life. James writes well, borrowing from nature to create lively metaphors and similes. Its wholesome air is summed up in one of my all-time favorite verses: “Every good gift and every perfect present comes from heaven; it comes down from God, the Creator of the heavenly lights, who does not change or cause darkness by turning” (Jas. 1:17)

1^stPeter, 2^nd Peter, Jude: These three letters are worth reading together as they seem to dovetail each other. The first dovetails the second in name (but not necessarily in authorship); the second dovetails the third in its concern regarding false teachers. Jude has quite the jaundiced eye regarding false teachers.

In summary what can I say about these nine letters?  Well, they are chock full of wisdom, faith and good advice.  Nonetheless, a part of me is tempted to sing along with Peggy Lee “Is That All There Is?”   There is so much more I want to know.  These brief letters and gospels just whet the appetite.  Guess I'll have to wait for heaven, where we can all sit around the campfire and hear the rest.