Deacon Dan Wright

On Giving Praise

St. Paul teaches us that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. I have always taken comfort in this knowledge, but recently in my life I have felt compelled to take the notion of calling on the name of the Lord to a greater degree of intensity.

It is not enough, sometimes it seems, just that we call on him. Often we must cry out with all our being. Something I’ve learned over the years is that when, in the sincerest depths of our hearts, we cry out in praise to God our voices participate reciprocally while being called by the Lord himself to raise our song to him.

The praise of God enters our lives, like a good medicine for the soul, and reaches to the depths of our being to heal those places that only God knows—sometimes what we need is too deep for our words; sometimes it is deeper than our conceptualization. Nevertheless, the deepest unspoken, perhaps unspeakable, groaning has to do with us intimately. We feel it precisely because we can respond.  Otherwise, God would not call to us so that his Son’s irresistible words would go unheard. We hear, and thus we believe. We lift our voices and our souls, and we respond with praise.

Praising God can take many forms. Singing along with the psalmist in our daily Morning or Evening Prayer; or perhaps we make our praise heard by losing ourselves in the ecstasy of repeatedly calling on the Mother of God to intercede to her Son on our behalf. Hail Mary full of Grace... We should never, ever, doubt the efficacy of the help of Our Lady.

The Lord has called us into relationship with him and with others; indeed, he has called us into relationship with the hosts of heaven and the saints, least to greatest, in order that we might lift our voices as one to praise the Father—the Father of all, holy, ineffable, unimaginable, glorious, Father.  We call out, no cry out, ours among myriad voices reaching high like incense burning and the sweet smelling savor that reaches the nostrils of God.

Today we celebrate a saint whom the gospel tells us heard and responded to a simple, but completely irresistible voice. Your words O Lord are Spirit and life! You have sent to us messengers of the Good News and that message still goes out.

Still, your messengers, your angels, prophets, apostles, preachers call out, “Come, follow…” Still, we hear, we come, we follow and we respond with heartfelt praise to the one who lifts our souls to the brilliant lights of highest heaven. The one who loves us affirms us far beyond what the praises and affirmations of this life may bring. God lifts us eternally, and it happens so subtly, so simply, so easily with just a few simple words—come, follow.

Yes, I’ve learned to offer praise to my God. I’ve learned of the love that he has for me and the love that his saints share. I’ve learned of our Holy Mother’s love too because she hears and follows and offers praise. Sometimes it just all seems to come together. Our holiness, our ability to respond was born of a woman, and like the mingling of water and wine his divinity flows in our humanity. Thus we confess him as LORD. Thus, we share—we all share something special, something deep, something unnameable, and something saving.

On Preparing for the Next Coming

As I looked over the readings I was musing on something that seemed a little strange to me. Each year as we prepare for Advent we tend to think of the season getting us ready for Christmas, for the feast of our Lord’s nativity. However, the current readings, rather than being aimed at the historical event of the Lord’s birth, seem to be pointing us toward a future event, toward the last things.

I suppose that in our yearly preparations for the arrival of the infant Jesus at Christmas we ought to pause and consider that we also, in a much more real way, await the coming of the Lord into our world to bring final peace and fulfillment.

Though we wait for the Second Coming we have eternal hope present with us now. However, I do have to say that I really like the imagery that scripture paints for us at this time of year. The readings tend to portray a shadowy picture of the days that lead up to the end of all things, which of course goes nicely with our darker, overcast days of the season in the northern hemisphere—even in Texas. I like the imagery because it has the power to inspire a feeling. The dying of the summer coincides with images of the dying of the world, but we are reminded always of the coming of an eternal springtime.

Something I pondered or considered several years ago is the spiritual phenomenon of Jesus “breaking in” to our world, to our time, from the time of completion. I gained a great deal of comfort from the idea, which seemed rather novel to me then.

At least in terms of interpretation, I discovered a way of understanding in which the Lord always breaks into our times and our lives from the end time, that is, from the time when his work has reached fulfillment. Certainly, personal fulfillment, peace, completion, and ultimate healing—those things that we long for in God’s kingdom of heaven—are also part of knowing the Son of God in a personal and present way in our lives now.

Thus, the season prepares us for a long awaited birth—a First Coming. Likewise, it prepares us for the Second Coming. I suppose we might say that it also prepares us for our personal finality, which is yet another coming of Christ, but more importantly perhaps, the season offers us the hope of God with us, Emanuel, who continually breaks into our times with the hope of eternal life.

On Giving Completely

The past week came as a welcome retreat from most of the things I typically find filling my days. It gave me the opportunity to completely give myself to that which I enjoy most in life—spending time with my family, and thus I now find the opportunity to reflect on the deeper meaning of these words "completely give myself."

The readings for today, the message for us as we finish this last week of the liturgical year before heading into Advent, serves to prepare us for that which lies ahead of us. The readings also serve to teach us something about the meaning of giving ourselves, giving completely, wholly, and entirely.

I can’t pretend to be an expert on the Book of Revelation or to have special insight into any hidden or prophetic meaning in today’s passage. However, for many years Revelation intrigued me. Before my conversion to the Catholic faith I believed that Revelation foretold an end of time that was near to all of us. Of course, this was a commonly held notion within many Pentecostal and Evangelical circles. The doctrine of the rapture and the idea of the end being near still remains as a main feature in evangelicalism, as the “Left Behind” series attests. Certainly I know this much: we will all someday face finality.  Indeed, we will all will face a last day and be taken from this life.  Undoubtedly the way that we have lived will reach beyond the short years we spent toiling upon earth.  Indeed the glad songs of heaven wait for us.

Furthermore, what I have found as a Catholic reading scripture in the context of the Church teaching is that Revelation, while certainly witnessing to the final glory of Christ Jesus, and indeed witnessing to last things, very often lends itself a practical interpretation as well, that is, an interpretation that informs us on our daily living amid our everyday lives.

What I can say about the symbolic group mentioned in today’s passage, about the 144,000, is that they gave themselves completely to both the liturgy of heaven and to the work of holiness while on earth; they poured forth their hearts, even their entire being in the worship of the almighty and to the attainment of holiness.

For me it makes little sense to attempt to understand something such as we are told of in today’s reading from Revelation without also seeing it paralleled in life. The 144,000 are sanctified in heaven because they were sanctified on earth. They give themselves wholly to the heavenly liturgy because they gave themselves wholly to worship while on earth. Thus, the passage serves to teach us, that to belong to this group, whom I believe stands for the entire communio sanctorum, we must somehow, in this life, begin to approach being able to give completely.

Truthfully, I have to admit that the act of giving completely is not something that comes easily. It is something that takes time and prayer, and often coming to the realization of the meaning of complete and total giving will reveal surprising dimensions within our lives. It is something that we must continually seek God about before we begin even slightly to approximate what God has planned in his will for us. In seeking the will of God we banish fear, looking always to the ultimate sacrifice in which Jesus gives his life because he understands that it is the only way to make atonement for humanity.

In my last blog post, which was now a week ago (yes, I imposed a break—a holiday—on myself), I recalled a journey I made several years ago and how my grandparents purchased a bus ticket for me to return home. What I was thinking of as I wrote the piece was how the poor widow, recalled in today’s gospel, gave completely of herself. She gave all that she had though it was only a small amount. Undoubtedly, we too are being called upon, in the context of what is required of us as Christians, to give similarly. The great mystery in giving of ourselves lies in the relativity of what is required of us in terms of what we have to give.  Are we truly giving our all?

In reflecting upon giving, both in giving of our financial resources and giving of ourselves in other ways, it becomes apparent that something mysterious, which meets between heaven and earth, occurs in our lives. It is something that we grow into and that grows in our lives. As the ability to give of ourselves grows, holiness grows in us as well, and thus we imitate the saints in heaven who were found with no deceit on their lips, whose lives are presented blameless to the one who rules in heaven eternally.

As we finish up the liturgical year, a good thing to consider is what God is asking of us. What are we willing to do more, to give in order that we might better imitate the one who came into the world to give his life as a gift for us that we might ultimately be counted among those who are found to be holy? Only heaven knows what we ultimately must give to be counted among the saints in the heavenly liturgy. We know not the hour when the Master will return, nor do we know the moment when our souls will be required of us.

Giving Thanks

As we approach Thanksgiving here in the US, the thought of what we have to be thankful for is something that many people meditate upon during this time of year.  I noticed in my youngest son's materials that he brought home from school there was a list of the things in life that he is most thankful for.  I was happy to find that his list was populted by people rather than stuff. This last Sunday as I listened to the homily I was reminded that Eucharist means thanksgiving.  "What better way is there," the priest asked, "than to show our thanks for one another than in Eucharist and in letting Eucharist be in our lives for others?"

Certainly, in my life I have received many wonderful blessings--a beatiful and loving family being chief among all the things in life for which I offer thanks.  As I look back over the past it only serves to magnify the quality of this blessing.  I need not look back more than 17 years to remember a Thanksgiving Day that I spent alone.  It seems to be a 17 years that has passed quickly in some respects.  A great deal has changed since then.

In many poeple's lives the blessing may appear to be absent.  They may find themselves in circumstances similar to what I remember during the time in my life before I married.  It was a time in between college and grad school.  I was doing menial labor at a restaurant, but trying to keep my spirits high.  It wasn't a time at all that I felt hopeless, but I do remember the idea crossing my mind that somehow blessing had managed to be absent from my life and often it appeared the opposite had somehow come about.

During this time in my life I recall that on one chilly north Texas evening after a night of carousing I convinced a friend to go on a road trip.  We drove north four hours, conversing the whole way and finally arriving in Oklahoma City to find the temperature a full 30 degrees cooler, which wasn't good given I had failed to bring a coat along.  At 6 a.m. my friend dropped me off at the house of my biological grandparents, whom I hadn't seen in at least 10 years and whom I had always known only as an aunt and uncle, having been raised by my grandmother's sister.  My friend let me out in the cold twilight and bid farewell.  I was hopeful that someone was home.

After several minutes waiting at the door my elderly grandmother came to the door and mistook me for her youngest son.  "William," she said, "where's your coat?  You're going to freeze" 

I replied "No, it's not William, it's Danny Wright."  She opened the door and I explained quickly that a friend and I had driven up from the Dallas area and he had gone back.  She let me in and let my grandfather know that they had a visitor.  That day my grandparents had it in their minds to be Eucharist for me, though they didn't think of it that way.

After reading the bible aloud to one another, my grandmother and grandfather made breakfast and allowed me to make use of their phone to call my boss at the restaurant and attempt to explain my litte geographical mishap. Somehow he must have sensed I was at a place where I needed to be, so he told me not to worry but just to be back the next day. My grandparents and I spent the entire day talking, looking at photo albums and catching up on family history.  This was also the occasion of my meeting my biological mother, introduced to me as such for the first time.  There were a lot of tears that day, and one of the things that I asked sincerely was why my life seemed to lack blessing--funny though, there wasn't an absence of blessing but rather blessing was overflowing.

My life changed dramatically that day 17 years ago.  I let three people know that I needed the help of their prayers.  I was alone in life and a long-time relationship had come to an unfriendly end.  I was finding my solace in unhealthy ways, which of course should be obvious given the road trip mishap. 

My grandparents gave me a rough feeling wool jacket from the shed that smelled a little like kerosene, and being poor people they gave much more--they bought me a bus ticket to return home.  I left having gained a great deal.

I remember explaining the entire thing the next day to my employer, who himself was a devout man.  I couldn't hold back the tears.  I think he too knew that I needed prayers--he kept me on at the restaurant for several months and always encouraged my abilities and dreams.  "Rise above it" he used to tell me.  It was during this time in my life that I went searching for answers in faith.  My employer became a good friend and whether he knew it or not, he too offered Eucharist.  I told him one day that I had gone to visit a church and hadn't felt welcomed at all.  He said, "Well you obviously went to the wrong church."  Many people might have given me a "well that's church for you" comeback.

I feel now that the saga that began with my midnight ethanol-fueled journey to find a blessing--though I might have thought I was going out to seek the reason for my curse--is still continuing.  Occasionally I'm tempted to think that the curse is still hanging on, but I know that regardless of life's difficulties the greater blessing is not far away.  It's just that I have to keep on letting people who know how to be Eucharist be aware that I still need their prayers.

It all comes full circle in the end.  The Lord whispers in the recesses of my being "I will not abandon you.  I need you to be Eucharist--I want you to do what it takes to let someone be thankful for their blessings."

Friday at Three O'Clock

Throughout my life I have deeply believed that God personally knows me.  I've believed that God knows and loves me intimately.  I was taught from an early age the Lord knows the number of the hairs of my head.  He created me, fashioned me, and he continually sustains me.  My relationship with God is one where he is my best friend, the guy that protects me from the neighborhood bully.

Trusting can sometimes be the hardest lesson for us to learn.  God wants us to trust him.  Somehow we have to get it that God has in mind what is best for us.  He's watching out for us.  Our enemies will not prevail!

Recently I've seen a lot of prayers answered in my life.  I waited, trusted, but I never forgot and I never ceased to believe that in God's sweet time--and I mean that reverently and sincerely--that his will would come to pass, and thus it has and it continues to come to pass, again and again.

Something I've been interested in communicating for a long time is idea of trust in faith.  Scripture teaches us that God knows our needs before a word is ever on our lips.  Faith trusts in the knowledge that God knows...God knows our struggles, our pain, our deepest longings and our hidden hurts.

I've taken a lifetime to come to a place where I simply say "Thy will be done," and then know, undoubtedly, that heaven sings a great praise--yes the hosts of angels sing--because faith is still alive and faith is still making the power of God present.  All along what I wanted, what I needed, all the time what I sought so unsucessfully to satisfy before coming to God, was that which can only be filled by trust, by faith, by simply saying "Thy will be done" and as a result feeling the power of heaven--the winds of the Spirit blow through me.

Now, about the title for this piece.  It's really about trusting, about love and mercy, about you and I, about everyone we know coming together and saying just a little prayer of thanks for the greatest love ever shared.  Yes, it is mercy that God pours out.  He fills us to overflowing with blessings unimaginable and inspires songs in our souls that human minds can scarcely imagine, much less that tongues can tell.  God lifts us into the spiritual ecstacy of contemplation to tell us "don't worry about a thing...it's all going to be fine."

Today at three remember to say a little prayer, an Our Father or a Hail Mary or maybe one of your own.  Do it out of the love and appreciation that comes from knowing Jesus as your friend and companion.  Say it in thankgiving or say it in need--it matters little, just say it.  Say it for a friend, for healing, for peace, for intervention, for a child, a parent, a spouse, reconciliation, intercession...O God come to our aid; Lord make haste to help us.

Evangelization Hollywood Style

I suppose that seeing is believing, at least this appears to be part of the rationale and timing for an upcoming December release:

(The Catholic Register) – The latest film in Hollywood’s fascination with Christ is about to hit the theatres. “The Nativity Story” will be released in early December just in time for the Christmas season.

Alliance Atlantis and New Line Cinema, which produced “The Lord of the Rings,” have teamed up with the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada (EFC) to promote the film. Canadian church leaders were invited to preview the film at private screenings across the country in late October and early November.

While nobody approached Canada’s Catholic bishops to promote the film, several Catholics have been invited to the EFC prescreening events.

Archbishop James Weisgerber of Winnipeg, the only Canadian bishop who had viewed the film as of last week, said he will not be promoting the film in any official way in his archdiocese.

But, Archbishop Weisgerber said, the film itself is delightful.

And here I was thinking all I had to look forward to was Charlotte's Web!

Get the whole story here

Robolab Goes National

For the past couple years my two older children who attend Catholic school have had the opportunity to participate in a extracurricular technology project called "Robolab."  Being an educator myself I couldn't let it pass, just as a mention, when I found this article on CNS.  I had no idea they were doing the same thing as far away as Vermont.

BARRE, Vt. (CNS) -- John McHugh, a fourth-grader at St. Monica School in Barre, would like to see robots used as police officers.

"They could have rockets on the bottom of their feet and fly around town looking for people who are being attacked by criminals and come down and arrest them," he said. "It'd be a big help."

Classmate Ricky Gariboldi would like to have a robot clean his room and do his homework.

Now, if I could only get my 7th grader to build a robot that'll clean his room and do his homework...

Saturday Bound, Well Maybe Not...

As I promised in my last post, the blogging continues. As I write this, late Sunday evening I look forward to the coming week. I anticipate the ending—at least for a couple months—of a big responsibility that has been hanging over my head for some time. Yes, it will be January before I need think about the new state-mandated testing again. Finally, I hope, I can settle in once again to concentrate on something other than assessments and deadlines.

While I’m certainly not opposed to the administrative aspect of my work, I can most confidently say that it is not my favorite thing to do. Like most people I prefer being involved with activities that don’t leave me longing for the weekend or even for the end of the day. There’s something special about being able to live in the moment and to savor the time that is now. Surely, the days pass quickly enough without our hurrying them along.

As I was reading the scripture passages for the Mass on the Memorial of Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini, it occurred to me that Paul’s instructions to Titus on the selection of presbyters and bishops must have seemed a little like administrative duty. In comparison to the work of preaching, healing, and being a minister of mercy, I suppose that there were aspects of being an apostle that seemed a little more mundane.

In my adult life I have met people who have been unable to live in the moment—perhaps I was one of them at one time. There’s an interesting phenomenon that I believe has a great deal to do with how we live out our lives and how we experience our contact with God, and that ultimately has to do with our satisfaction with life overall. It has to do with being able to accept that whatever is going on is God’s will and that our role in it all is often to wait patiently.

There is something about not being able to wait that is kin to not being able to be alone. I remember in my college years I was terrible at being alone. I dreaded each moment that I had to spend by myself. I knew others who also experienced similar feelings. It is my opinion that not being able to wait, not being comfortable with the moment, with who we are alone, often is what leads to a destructive lifestyle for many people.

Now, here’s where I’m going to begin reflecting about 12-Step spirituality. However, before I start any speculation about myself—whether or not I am personally in recovery—let me say that all of us are in recovery from something, and I discovered long ago that giving up abusive drinking, smoking, overeating, etc. is just the surface stuff of recovery. The real work lies beneath the things that are only symptoms of a much greater longing. There’s something that all of us have in common—it’s a desire as deep as our human soul; there’s something in us all that’s waiting to be fulfilled, which seems to wait perpetually.

Beginning to realize and name the existence of our ultimate need will serve us in finally being able to satisfactorily fulfill the longing and emptiness that lies in the heart of each of us. If anyone can say that he or she has no need this great, I suspect that there hasn’t been sufficient reflection on the matter.  There is still the need to engage the idea of recovery.

Ultimately being able to make it through a workday without longing for quitting time, or being able to live for something other than the weekend, is about being at peace. Peace is the key to what many people think of as recovery—for me it’s just about peace. Sure, I realize the need for recovery. Life is such that it inevitably leaves us with a wound of some kind. We have to find a way in the midst of it all, rather than at the end, to realize that in the moment there is cause for joy.

Blogging Update: Buried Somewhere Underneath a Pile of Paper

Not to worry, I anticipate that very soon--likely this weekend--I'll be able to resume a regular blogging schedule.  Before ever entering the field of special education I knew of the paperwork and administrative duties that would come with it.  This past month has seen a mountain of paper and other school-related work pass my way.

Actually, I'm involved in a pilot program for a new state-mandated test designed for the most significantly disabled students.  It has been a learning intensive process, and I don't anticipate it to let up until the end of next week.  Perhaps then I'll even have some thoughts to share with you on something as mundane as NCLB.

I am mindful of the directions that you, my faithful readers, would like for me to go with my writing.  I'll certainly try not to disappoint you.  I believe that God is speaking to me about sharing a dimension of spirituality with you that I have not yet shared but that I have at least hinted at.  So, regardless of the other directions that life tends to push and pull, I cannot for long ignore this call I have to share my inner spiritual life with the world. 

This past weekend I spent a short amount of time at a retreat on the writings of Henri Nouwen.  How could one not help but be blessed by Nouwen, and certainly I was moved within to deal with my greatest struggles.  Again, special education and the burdens that it carries--even teaching in general--was heavily on my mind.

During the retreat I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with one of my fellow deacons--George--from the far other end of my diocese.  I shared with George my personal struggle of getting caught up with the difficulties that go along with being an elementary educator.  George helped me to remember that the foremost reason I chose special education was to make it be my ministry to those whom I felt needed love, kindness, understanding, charity, and above all else good old fashioned Catholic mercy.  "If it ever stops being a ministry first," he said, "find something else to do."

I was able to return to work this week with a renewed confidence that God was blessing my work, blessing the kids I serve, and blessing my co-workers.  I continue to pray for that blessing all around.

Later on in the blogging week I hope to begin uncovering the themes of receiving love and living forgiveness.  I feel somewhat qualified to delve into 12-Step spirituality as well, though I may challenge what you think or believe about 12-Step programs--though not to invalidate them in any way.  I believe that they are indeed a gift from God.

I leave you with a video I found on Ballastexistenz.  It says something to us about the dignity we afford others of being persons.  I try to teach that while there may be glaring inequalities in life, the amount of dignity that God gives us as persons is not one of them.

Good Enough to Be Loved

As I read the first reading for today from Philippians, the thought that came to my mind most immediately was, “Ah, one of my favorite passages from scripture.” It could be that I might say much about this. Certainly I recall several years ago pouring over its depth and meaning. For years I’ve used this passage in explaining that we, like Christ, are to empty or humble ourselves in service to others.

However, there’s something else I’m being led to do with it now. It has to do with being on the receiving end of love rather than on the giving end.

It’s where the Spirit is taking me these days—I hear it clearly spoken. The true challenge in life is not so much being able to love. No, really loving is easy enough: I’ve been doing it all my life. Loving God and loving others comes natural for most of us. It’s easy to let the heart be moved to pour out feelings of love. Even our actions of love—mercy and charity—often come natural to us. Just look at the loving things that a good parent will do for his or her child.

Contrary to it all, what is really difficult when it comes to love, the true challenge in life, is accepting ourselves as the loved and cherished one of God. If I may bare my heart to you, I must admit that loving myself has not always been easy for me. I may say more in days to come.

Perhaps the difficulty has to do with our image or perception of God. I had to go through a chapter in my life where I was forced to forget everything I knew and believed about God. Is God a punisher? A judge? Cold and distant? While I knew God as personal for many years, I also knew God as intolerant toward sin. Somehow that got translated in my mind to God's being intolerant toward failure.

It didn’t necessarily have to do with sin either. By the time I had reached 30 I reckoned that my relative success in the world, or lack thereof, had to do with personal mistakes. I did not blame God though, I blamed myself entirely for everything I perceived as a failure. Be it interpersonal difficulties, relationships in love, or the lack foresight in choosing a college major. I blamed myself and honestly when I looked in the mirror I saw a stranger. But somehow, somewhere, I knew there was something in me worthy of love, worthy of a family and friends.

It’s been slow coming to a place where I can begin to work through knowing that God loves me unconditionally, and that my receiving this love is “just because.” What a great way to express grace—just because. Please don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I haven’t been able to like myself or even accept that God loves me. Some people might tell you that I have liked myself a little too much. Nevertheless, I accepted God’s unconditional love long ago, but now where I am, and what I’d like to look into deeper is how much I realize that love in my daily living. I think it’s the true test.

Right now I think there’s something spiritually just beginning. Something new is taking place. We truly accept Jesus poured out on humanity when we can accept ourselves as loved, and in turn love ourselves despite our failings.  It goes beyond the past, present, and future.  It goes beyond what others think about us or what we think about ourselves.  Most of us want God to transform us into the image that he is.  It starts with letting God love us by loving ourselves.