I know a lot of people who have a beef with the commercialization of Christmas. Every holiday season we're inundated with images of a jolly old chap selling us Coca-Cola, every product imaginable, as well as an array of toys that defies my imagination. To some extent I expect it at Christmas these days. And if the birth of Christ is open game, I shouldn't be surprised by the sickeningly sweet shades of pink and red that are washing over the local stores. Not that they're just starting to spread. Most retail outlets had at least one Valentine's Day aisle while Christmas shopping was still in full force. It feels like a slow-spread disease, the symptoms of which are forced displays of affection, a blindness to any colour not in the family of red or pink, and high blood sugars from excessive chocolate consumption. While I'm sure a lot of folks aren't just making displays of affection for Valentine's Day and are daily making their significant others feel beloved, I wonder why it feels like the message is to absolutely spoil your partner or spouse for the one day, but not to focus on the other 364 days. Even if you are a spontaneous person who spoils your loved ones in unexpected ways and on any day, the expectations behind this singular day are so huge, how can even the most loving person manage to keep up? It seems, according to the media and consumer stores, that I'm supposed to be expecting spa packages, special meals, cards, gifts, special mementos and so much more from my husband. Apparently all that is required of me is that I show up to be loved, maybe get him a card, and watch some hockey. I feel like something's been lost in translation.
St. Valentine must be rolling his eyes up in Heaven. Here a was a man, a priest, who gave his life to God and to God's Church every day of his life up until the moment he was brutally martyred. He was a man of daily charity to those who relied on him to give them the Sacraments. St. Valentine is associated with romantic love because he risked his life to help couples celebrate the Sacrament of Marriage at a time when Christianity was prohibited in the Roman Empire. At any point he could have given up his clandestine works of devotion to his flock, but he continued on until he was arrested and martyred. To me, this seems so much at odds with the current incarnation of his feast day. Here's a man, a beautiful image of sacrificial love, whose feast day is being used for indulgence, selfish expectations, and excess. The couples for whom he risked his life to witness the Sacrament of their Marriage, must be up there in Heaven rolling their eyes too. They had to gather in secret locations away from the eyes of the Roman law to sanctify their union. I'm pretty sure the idea of chocolates and spa treatments seem empty next to the freedom to celebrate their faith in peace. I may be speaking out of turn, but I'm pretty sure these couples would be at Mass on February 14th, giving thanks to God for the priest who gave everything to God and to them.
All of this leads me to reflect that if we're going to set St. Valentine's day apart as a special day, it shouldn't be a day to celebrate saccharine emotional displays. It should be a day to emulate that sacrificial love that St. Valentine lived unto his own death. And like St. Valentine, it shouldn't just be on one day, it should be the act of every day. While I think it's always great to remind people around us that we love them, I think we should go well past just saying it, and prove it year round, by devoting small duties and prayers to ease their path and bring them closer to God. Through the daily administering of his duties, St. Valentine brought Christ to those around him. This St. Valentine's Day, perhaps what we could do for those we loved would be to pray for them, offer Mass, and instead of handing over our money to the stores for the sake of trinkets and foods, give our loved ones the gift of ourselves. Maybe that means sitting down and taking extra time to listen to them, or pray with them, or even letting them go and take a nap when they get home after a long day. All the things that society tells us will express our love will only last a day or two. The flowers will wilt, the chocolates will be eaten, the cards will find their way into the recycling, but the gift of yourself will build up your relationship in a truly lasting way that could snowball and improve your relationship for the rest of your lives together.
Showing posts with label Saints. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saints. Show all posts
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
Wednesday, 7 November 2012
Post-Election Hangover
I'm not an American, but like many other Canadians, I found myself glued to the screen until late in the night watching CNN call state after state (don't get me started on calling a state before any ballots have been counted) for one candidate or another. As an informed citizen of the world, I had my own little opinions as to who the best candidate would be, and how the next 4 years would look in the ole US of A. At the end of the day it doesn't matter whether I was with Obama or Romney. First of all, I couldn't vote, and secondly, the election is over and the results are in.
I'm left this evening reflecting on the honest truth that if I had been in the US, I'm not sure who would have gotten my vote. As in Canada, we always seem to be voting for the lesser of two (or in our case several) evils. When we pin our hopes on human beings and proclaim their policy to be divine, we're bound to run into troubles. The fact is that after all these years, I've given up on the idea of a Philosopher King (sorry Plato. What a tease). There is no human being who can act in all ways perfectly according to how I believe God would act. There are elements that we cling to, and find enough of an anchor of faithfulness to morality that we'll wear a pin, put a sign up on our lawn, and even debate vigorously for our candidate in the streets. I find it tough to get so engaged in any one politician. I see positive and negative policies on all sides. Social justice, right to life, healthcare, education, all of it. No one candidate has it %100 right. So we wake up on election day to a close split and a promise to work together and go back to campaigning when the dawn breaks. There is no Philosopher King, just a collection of people as broken as we are struggling to figure out what's right, what's important, and what will get them or their party elected in another 4 years (or often less if you're Canadian).
I guess I'm a little disillusioned with the obsession with politics. Don't get me wrong, I believe strongly in civic involvement, and have never missed an opportunity to cast my ballot after careful consideration. I do not, however, act like the Apocalypse is upon us when my candidate isn't elected, nor do I thank Sweet Jesus like it's some kind of deus ex machina when I pick the winning team. Rather, I think what we could all consider doing is saying a prayer for whomever finds themselves holding the balance of power, that they would use it carefully, rightly, and with deep charity for the people who entrusted them with the guidance of their nation, state or province, town, or municipality.
At the end of the day, politicians will create their policies, fund their projects, cut this that or the other thing, and do their best to do what they promised to do in election speeches. So what are we left with? How do we change the world, like so many politicians promised us over the years? My thought is that all we can do is start with ourselves. If we want the world to be more Christian, we need to look inside our hearts and figure out what that really means, and then be Christian. Not halfway Christian when it's convenient, but Christian with our whole heart, mind, soul, and strength. That kind of Christianity doesn't offend people, because real, authentic Christianity is by its very nature a daily expression of love and charity, but done in humility. It is the act of being unafraid to speak the truth, but being able to do so with kindness, love, and gentleness. That kind of love attracts people. It doesn't lead people to call us extremists. That kind of love sets others ablaze with love. It inspires other people to look deeper into themselves, to re-evaluate who they are in the world.
Don't believe me? Look at Mother Theresa. Every time you see a video of her tending to the poor, sick, and helpless, don't you feel a little accusation in your own heart, and a call to be more than who you are today? Now, I know that you and I are no Mother Theresa, but that doesn't mean we can't inspire someone today, and change our world a little bit at a time. Imagine if we all embraced the true call of our faith, how simply being who Christ called us to be could really change the world. Politics can only take us so far, and often not that far at all. If we want to see the poor fed, the naked clothed, widows and orphans taken care of, and people in crisis supported, we are the ones who need to step up, organise, fundraise and finally share our own wealth as we can to make sure no one is left feeling forgotten. There are no Philosopher Kings. My only King is the King of Kings, Jesus Christ. He's the model I want to follow, He's the one who will work with me and through me to bring about real change.
The vote is cast. The election is over. Time for the rest of us to get to work.
I'm left this evening reflecting on the honest truth that if I had been in the US, I'm not sure who would have gotten my vote. As in Canada, we always seem to be voting for the lesser of two (or in our case several) evils. When we pin our hopes on human beings and proclaim their policy to be divine, we're bound to run into troubles. The fact is that after all these years, I've given up on the idea of a Philosopher King (sorry Plato. What a tease). There is no human being who can act in all ways perfectly according to how I believe God would act. There are elements that we cling to, and find enough of an anchor of faithfulness to morality that we'll wear a pin, put a sign up on our lawn, and even debate vigorously for our candidate in the streets. I find it tough to get so engaged in any one politician. I see positive and negative policies on all sides. Social justice, right to life, healthcare, education, all of it. No one candidate has it %100 right. So we wake up on election day to a close split and a promise to work together and go back to campaigning when the dawn breaks. There is no Philosopher King, just a collection of people as broken as we are struggling to figure out what's right, what's important, and what will get them or their party elected in another 4 years (or often less if you're Canadian).
I guess I'm a little disillusioned with the obsession with politics. Don't get me wrong, I believe strongly in civic involvement, and have never missed an opportunity to cast my ballot after careful consideration. I do not, however, act like the Apocalypse is upon us when my candidate isn't elected, nor do I thank Sweet Jesus like it's some kind of deus ex machina when I pick the winning team. Rather, I think what we could all consider doing is saying a prayer for whomever finds themselves holding the balance of power, that they would use it carefully, rightly, and with deep charity for the people who entrusted them with the guidance of their nation, state or province, town, or municipality.
At the end of the day, politicians will create their policies, fund their projects, cut this that or the other thing, and do their best to do what they promised to do in election speeches. So what are we left with? How do we change the world, like so many politicians promised us over the years? My thought is that all we can do is start with ourselves. If we want the world to be more Christian, we need to look inside our hearts and figure out what that really means, and then be Christian. Not halfway Christian when it's convenient, but Christian with our whole heart, mind, soul, and strength. That kind of Christianity doesn't offend people, because real, authentic Christianity is by its very nature a daily expression of love and charity, but done in humility. It is the act of being unafraid to speak the truth, but being able to do so with kindness, love, and gentleness. That kind of love attracts people. It doesn't lead people to call us extremists. That kind of love sets others ablaze with love. It inspires other people to look deeper into themselves, to re-evaluate who they are in the world.
Don't believe me? Look at Mother Theresa. Every time you see a video of her tending to the poor, sick, and helpless, don't you feel a little accusation in your own heart, and a call to be more than who you are today? Now, I know that you and I are no Mother Theresa, but that doesn't mean we can't inspire someone today, and change our world a little bit at a time. Imagine if we all embraced the true call of our faith, how simply being who Christ called us to be could really change the world. Politics can only take us so far, and often not that far at all. If we want to see the poor fed, the naked clothed, widows and orphans taken care of, and people in crisis supported, we are the ones who need to step up, organise, fundraise and finally share our own wealth as we can to make sure no one is left feeling forgotten. There are no Philosopher Kings. My only King is the King of Kings, Jesus Christ. He's the model I want to follow, He's the one who will work with me and through me to bring about real change.
The vote is cast. The election is over. Time for the rest of us to get to work.
Saturday, 3 November 2012
Santo Subito!
For those of you who remember and loved Pope John Paul II, the words "Santo Subito!" are as much a part of your psyche as "JP II, we love you!". Both phrases come from very different points of his life. The latter I first heard when I attending World Youth Day in Rome in the year 2000. Hundreds of thousands of English speaking pilgrims shouted out our love for our friend, Pope John Paul II. Yes, he was our Pope. The only Pope in my life time at that point.
What was it about him that we loved, that I loved? I can give a million reasons, all of them good. I read his books, and could feel the hope and love that he infused into every moment of his life wash over me. I saw how human he was. When I was old enough to care about who the Pope was, he was an old man, falling apart before my eyes. He was dying every day on the world stage, but somehow managed to effortlessly hold on to his dignity. He showed all of us that dignity doesn't come from human esteem, but from the God who created each of us and continues to give us life each day. I loved him for who he was in history. For the bravery of his faith during the second world war, his faith in the face of a darkness so deep it swallowed up the lives of countless people, including some of his dearest friends. He came out of that evil time with great conviction, compassion and most of all love. He took the character his experiences built up in himself and used it on the world stage to stand up to evil, and stood up to communism in his beloved Poland. When he was elected Pope, he became a symbol of hope for his polish countrymen and women who were struggling again under the weight of oppression at the hand of communism. These are good reasons. But they only scratch the surface of why I loved him.
When I look at videos of John Paul II on YouTube, I feel it right away. I love this man like a member of my own family. Like a friend I've know my whole life. And why is that? Because I can feel when I see him that he loved me too. As a young girl I was lucky enough to go to World Youth Day twice before he passed away. World Youth Day is a youth festival instituted by the Pope to bring young Catholics together to encourage each other, grow in faith, and sit at the foot of Peter to hear in a way that made sense to us the Gospel of Christ. We came together, many of us there just there for a trip, and left on fire with love for Christ. So how does this man in his 80s connect to my youthful experience of faith? By far, the most exciting part of WYD, in both Rome and Toronto, was hearing the Pope speak. He loved young people, and understood how to talk to us. He didn't baby us, or dumb down the message of Christ. He challenged us, he told us we were called, he reminded us that God loved us. He said that he loved us and felt young when he was with us. This was no pandering of an ancient Church desperately grasping at the young in hopes of staying just viable enough to make it through another decade. This was a man who loved God so much, that he wanted to share his faith with us so we could find the joy he had. He knew that with that faith and joy, we could go back into the world and stay strong while being inundated with messages of immorality, consumerism, and death. He could see the challenges our generation faced, and prayed for us and loved us in it all. If you caught eyes with him as he drove by you, you felt like he was looking into your soul. People I know that actually got to meet him and chat with him each tell stories of how he would take great interest in details of their lives, and would share with them kindness and humour. He wasn't an unapproachable man in love with his own title. He was your friend, your confidant, and your greatest supporter. For me, he was an image of how I imagine Jesus was when he walked on the earth two millenia ago. He was what every true Vicar of Christ should be, someone who will love you unconditionally, tell you "Be not afraid", and then show you how to come closer to God.
So when he passed away, young people from around the world who had been drawn to him joined together with an aching cry of loss. Our friend was no longer here. But we also know that our beloved friend was with God, surely welcomed him with open arms into the Kingdom he has shared with so much passion. We took our tears and turned them into joyful shouts of "Santo Subito!", "A Saint Soon!" (sounds better in Italian). We wanted to Church to recognise formally what we already knew, that in our lifetime we had known a Saint. Already our beloved Pope is Blessed, so now we're waiting patiently for the requirements to be fulfilled so that the whole Church will join us in rejoicing in God's grace as witness in the life of a mere human who became a earthly image of Christ.
So my prayers rise up with the cry of my soul of "JP II, we love you!" and my voice shouts out "Santo Subito!" in gratitude for the man who became my friend without even knowing my name. His witness of holiness left a stamp on my heart that inspires me every day to be who God is calling me some day, so that I can open my heart up enough to make my very life an act of praise.
What was it about him that we loved, that I loved? I can give a million reasons, all of them good. I read his books, and could feel the hope and love that he infused into every moment of his life wash over me. I saw how human he was. When I was old enough to care about who the Pope was, he was an old man, falling apart before my eyes. He was dying every day on the world stage, but somehow managed to effortlessly hold on to his dignity. He showed all of us that dignity doesn't come from human esteem, but from the God who created each of us and continues to give us life each day. I loved him for who he was in history. For the bravery of his faith during the second world war, his faith in the face of a darkness so deep it swallowed up the lives of countless people, including some of his dearest friends. He came out of that evil time with great conviction, compassion and most of all love. He took the character his experiences built up in himself and used it on the world stage to stand up to evil, and stood up to communism in his beloved Poland. When he was elected Pope, he became a symbol of hope for his polish countrymen and women who were struggling again under the weight of oppression at the hand of communism. These are good reasons. But they only scratch the surface of why I loved him.
When I look at videos of John Paul II on YouTube, I feel it right away. I love this man like a member of my own family. Like a friend I've know my whole life. And why is that? Because I can feel when I see him that he loved me too. As a young girl I was lucky enough to go to World Youth Day twice before he passed away. World Youth Day is a youth festival instituted by the Pope to bring young Catholics together to encourage each other, grow in faith, and sit at the foot of Peter to hear in a way that made sense to us the Gospel of Christ. We came together, many of us there just there for a trip, and left on fire with love for Christ. So how does this man in his 80s connect to my youthful experience of faith? By far, the most exciting part of WYD, in both Rome and Toronto, was hearing the Pope speak. He loved young people, and understood how to talk to us. He didn't baby us, or dumb down the message of Christ. He challenged us, he told us we were called, he reminded us that God loved us. He said that he loved us and felt young when he was with us. This was no pandering of an ancient Church desperately grasping at the young in hopes of staying just viable enough to make it through another decade. This was a man who loved God so much, that he wanted to share his faith with us so we could find the joy he had. He knew that with that faith and joy, we could go back into the world and stay strong while being inundated with messages of immorality, consumerism, and death. He could see the challenges our generation faced, and prayed for us and loved us in it all. If you caught eyes with him as he drove by you, you felt like he was looking into your soul. People I know that actually got to meet him and chat with him each tell stories of how he would take great interest in details of their lives, and would share with them kindness and humour. He wasn't an unapproachable man in love with his own title. He was your friend, your confidant, and your greatest supporter. For me, he was an image of how I imagine Jesus was when he walked on the earth two millenia ago. He was what every true Vicar of Christ should be, someone who will love you unconditionally, tell you "Be not afraid", and then show you how to come closer to God.
So when he passed away, young people from around the world who had been drawn to him joined together with an aching cry of loss. Our friend was no longer here. But we also know that our beloved friend was with God, surely welcomed him with open arms into the Kingdom he has shared with so much passion. We took our tears and turned them into joyful shouts of "Santo Subito!", "A Saint Soon!" (sounds better in Italian). We wanted to Church to recognise formally what we already knew, that in our lifetime we had known a Saint. Already our beloved Pope is Blessed, so now we're waiting patiently for the requirements to be fulfilled so that the whole Church will join us in rejoicing in God's grace as witness in the life of a mere human who became a earthly image of Christ.
So my prayers rise up with the cry of my soul of "JP II, we love you!" and my voice shouts out "Santo Subito!" in gratitude for the man who became my friend without even knowing my name. His witness of holiness left a stamp on my heart that inspires me every day to be who God is calling me some day, so that I can open my heart up enough to make my very life an act of praise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)