Deacon Dan Wright

To Be Who God Has Made Us to Be

All things are in the hands of the Lord, as the reading from Samuel in the Morning Prayer today reminds us.  I reflect on this briefly today after having a busy night—family responsibility, as well as work taken home, is part of being a deacon.   Today required a little more of me.

The diaconate is really a very different kind of ordained ministry in that in most cases it involves a job during the day and family to care for and to participate with in life.   Often life, my family and work, calls me to participate in ways that I don’t always anticipate but that I meet with readiness.

I’m quite thankful for my family.  They offer me exactly what I need in order to do what I do at the parish and at school.  They offer the balance I need and thus I am able to keep things in the proper perspective.  Our life is in the hands of the Lord: God has made us to be who we are.   God gives us what we have so that we might consecrate it and sanctify it as his instruments.  

God asks us to take responsibility in what he has given us.  He asks us to take ownership and identify with the life we have.  Life is not given to us to run away from or to hide from its difficulties and challenges.  God asks us to face it head on with faith.  God urges us to meet difficult situations—and perhaps difficult people—with strength, with love, with unfailing faith.

…the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, and he has set the world upon them.  He will guard the footsteps of his faithful ones… (from 1 Sam. 2)

Let us go forth this day to be who he has made us be, and let us do it with faith.

Words from the Night

 I cry aloud to God,
   aloud to God, that he may hear me. 
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
   in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
   my soul refuses to be comforted.    Psalm 77: 1-2

The morning prayer of the Church begins today by calling to mind one who cried aloud to God throughout the night without ceasing.  It serves to remind us that we have a place to turn in the day of distress.  Although appearances and all evidence of the senses may seem to scream out that we are alone, our faith urges us to turn to God.

In all honesty it would be rare for most of us to spend an entire night in prayer crying out.  Usually at the end of my day sleep comes with little effort.  Truly no sane person would want such troubled sleep that he or she felt forced to cry to God for comfort in the soul.  However, we should consider that there are in fact many people whose lives bear such difficulty that sleep does not come easy and perhaps they spend the night calling out for help.

Several years ago I went on a retreat given by an elderly priest who had a knack for storytelling.  One of stories I remember best was his telling about how as a teenage boy, living on a farm in Texas during the bad years of the Great Depression, he was awakened one night by the sound of his father whom he discovered on his knees in the living room praying for his family.

Situations so severe that they have the power to cause a person to spend the night awake are real.  I think such people numerous and all around us. When I consider the places in the world where trouble abounds it tends to be somewhat mind boggling.  Considering the war, violence, disease, hunger, and poverty that exists—often in our own cities—there seems to be plenty to warrant crying aloud to God.

Years ago, before my conversion, I recall that a congregation I attended held an all-night prayer vigil from time to time.  I first remember attending one such gathering when I was just a young boy.  It left me with a strong impression, though the kinds of things that were preached about that evening (there was preaching in addition to prayer) had more to do with saving souls than meeting the corporal needs of humanity.

Occasionally I have known of Catholic parishes that will have a night of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.  Whenever we get an opportunity to spend a significant portion of the evening in prayer, we may find that it carries a blessing.  It’s our opportunity to spend a little time awake with the Lord.  

What should be on our minds and hearts any time we pray or any time that we have occasion to reflect deeply?   In addition to our personal needs and the needs of those closest to us, we should consider the needs of those who suffer most in this world.  Especially we ought to pray for those who yearn for peace.  Peace will bring healing to a multitude of pains, and reaching out to make it happen may just heal us in the process.

However, regardless of what our concern might be, whether we have a concern for the world that all of us share, whether it is our families, our ability to provide for those who depend on us, or any other need-- personal or otherwise, we may bring our concerns to God.  If only we possess a minuscule portion of faith, or even less I think, and in sincerity voice our concern to God, we will see results.  I cry aloud to God that he may hear me, indeed I cry aloud to God. 

Secondary Drowning

This week I have actually been preparing myself to blog this summer on topics other than autism and disability--I still have the intention of writing on scripture and spirituality this summer; however, another story caught my eye--one that had a tragic ending. 

I'm including this on ddw.org for a couple reasons: first, I want to create awareness this summer of something that many, if not most of us, may not have been aware.  Secondly, I believe as Christians we share a spiritual good when we pray for the dead and for their family members who mourn.

I don't know that it really has much of anything to do with the story that the little boy had autism--it's just that those of us who are parents of autistic children share a special connection that goes as deep as the heart.  It only reminds me of all the times through the passing of summers that I've watched my Dominic splashing around at the pool.  I know that kids with autism have to be watched--protected--more than typically developing kids.  Sometimes, watching doesn't help.  I guess that's why I always ask for the guardian angels to be near:

As Cassandra Jackson watched her 10-year-old son Johnny splash around in their neighborhood pool last week, she had no reason to believe anything was wrong -- let alone that her son was slowly drowning.

"He seemed to be fine," Jackson, 41, told ABCNEWS.com from her home in Goose Creek, S.C. "I noticed nothing out of the ordinary, other than him taking a little bit of water in and coughing and then calming down."

Jackson estimated that Johnny had been in the pool for 45 minutes and had been wearing floatation devices on each arm, in addition to being monitored by an adult in the pool, as well as herself and a friend watching from pool chairs nearby.

But less than two hours after getting out of the pool, Johnny had defecated in his pants twice and was complaining of being tired.

After being bathed and dressing himself, Johnny walked to his bed unaided, leading his mother to believe that he was simply tired from playing in the water.

But shortly after leaving him to nap, Jackson discovered her son unconscious and his face covered in a foam-like substance.

"My friend went back into the room where Johnny was sleeping and noticed what appeared to be cotton balls stuffed in his nose," Jackson said of what turned out to be the foam from his nose and mouth. "She asked if I put them there and I said no -- I went in and saw him and screamed for help.

"I rolled him over and his body was very limp and I realized he'd soiled himself again and was very purplish-blue looking," said Jackson, who then called 9-1-1. "His tongue was really swollen, too."

Johnny suffered from cardiac arrest on the way to the hospital, his mother said, and was pronounced dead upon arrival.

Berkeley County Coroner Glenn Rhoad examined Johnny's body after the incident and told ABCNEWS.com that the preliminary autopsy showed the cause of death was asphyxiation due to drowning. Rhoad added that the boy had a lot of water in his lungs.

While Johnny had been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder and autism, there is no reason to believe that either condition had anything to do with his death, the coroner said.

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Johnny, sleep in peace.  May the Lord Jesus who loved little children hold you forever in his arms.

Catholic Parish Bans Autistic Child

After a month-long break from blogging to finish up school year work and prepare for my summer break, I anticipated that would return with something on a more uplifting note.  As I read the story posted below, my emotions ranged from deep sadness to outrage.  The words of Jesus from Sunday's gospel echoed in soul, "Not all who say to me 'Lord, Lord' will enter the kingdom of heaven."

Among the many things to find truly appalling in the story, the fact that the child's mom was issued a citation on Mother's Day for taking him to Mass stands out.  Tears should pour from heaven.

BERTHA, Minn. -- Carol Race thinks it's important for her 13-year-old son to be in church on Sundays for Catholic Mass.

Leaders of the Church of St. Joseph once felt the same way, but not anymore. They say Race's autistic son Adam is disruptive and his erratic behavior threatens the safety of other parishioners.

The northern Minnesota church has obtained a restraining order to keep Adam away, an action that has been deeply hurtful to the Race family and has brought them support from parents of other autistic children.

"My son is not dangerous," Carol Race said. The church's action is "about a certain community's fears of him. Fears of danger versus actual danger," she said.

In court papers, church leaders say the danger is real. The Rev. Daniel Walz wrote in his petition for the restraining order that Adam--who already is more than 6 feet tall and weighs more than 225 pounds--has hit a child, has nearly knocked over elderly parishioners while bolting from his pew, has spit at people and has urinated in the church.

"His behavior at Mass is extremely disruptive and dangerous," wrote Walz. "Adam is 13 and growing, so his behaviors grow increasingly difficult for his parents to manage."

Carol Race said Walz's claims are exaggerated.

"He's never actually injured anyone," she said. "He's never knocked down anyone. He's never urinated on anyone or spit on anyone."

Carol Race was cited for attending church May 11 in violation of the restraining order, and faces a hearing Monday. She says she can't afford a lawyer and will defend herself in court. A lay mediator is scheduled to meet with her and church board members on Wednesday.

Autism is a developmental disorder that affects a person's ability to communicate and interact with others. It is more severe in some people than others. Adam has limited verbal skills.

Walz did not return calls seeking comment, but Jane Marrin, who works for the Diocese of St. Cloud and is acting as a spokeswoman for the parish, said the church board tried working with the Races to find "reasonable accommodations." That included offering a video feed of Mass that could be watched in the church basement.

The family refused all suggestions, she said.

"It's a difficult issue," Marrin said. "There are no easy answers."

Carol Race dismissed the church's suggestion that Adam watch a video feed in the church basement, saying that "does not have the same status as attending Mass. Otherwise we could all just sit home and watch it on TV and not bother to come in."

"It's considered a sin in the Catholic church not to attend Mass on Sundays and every holy day of obligation," she said. "And that's what this is about. I'm just trying to fulfill my obligations."

Adam is one of five children. The family's home in nearby Eagle Bend has separate study rooms so the other children can read books and use crayons that Adam could otherwise destroy.

Carol said Adam has two favorite spots in the house, the prayer room and the kitchen table. "He likes to eat," she said, laughing.

Adam is prone to anxiety attacks. Carol said some of those outbursts force members of the family to sit on him to calm him down, or restrain his hands and feet with a strip of felt.

In his court petition, Walz said that after one service Adam got into another family's car, started it and revved up the engine while there were people in front of the vehicle.

"Adam's continued presence on parish grounds not only endangers the parishioners, it is disruptive to the devout celebration of the Eucharist," Walz wrote. "I have repeatedly asked John and Carol to keep Adam from church; they have refused to do so.

"In fact, Carol told our parish council that she would have to be dragged from church in handcuffs if I tried to keep Adam from attending Mass," he wrote.

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There is a lot more that can be done in the way of offering support than forcing a kid to watch Mass on a video from the basement.  Forcing someone to sit in the basement is not a reasonable accommodation by any stretch of the imagination--It's discrimination.

As someone who works daily with autistic teenagers, and as the parent of an autistic child, I have several questions.  Has the diocese, consulted an autism expert, or has anyone done as little as having contacted the school to discuss what support they use in the classroom?  Did they consider paying a trained person to sit with him (there are people who do this--I know several)?  Has anything been done to educate parishioners about autism?

As my wife was leaving for work this morning I could sense her sadness over having learned about the story.  I told her, "Look at it like this, it's another diocese--not us."  She was quick to correct me, "No, it is us.  This hurts the whole Church."  Indeed, when this kind of thing happens it not only hurts the family who must suffer through the ordeal of not being understood--not loved--and not accepted.  It also hurts their parish, their diocese, and when it makes the news it hurts us all.  On a spiritual level it hurts us regardless of whether it is news or not.  It is a situation that cries out for justice.

I think it is interesting to juxtapose this story with the fact that in 1941 young Joseph Ratzinger had a 14-year-old cousin--a few months younger than he was--who had Down Syndrome.  The cousin was taken away by Nazi authorities and presumably killed under Hitler's euthanasia program for the disabled. I know what John Paul II had to say about people with cognitive disabilities.  In light of the incident with his cousin, I'd like to see Pope Benedict also say something.

In the past, at the masses where I do not serve at the altar, my wife and I have chosen to sit in the back of the church with our children, including our autistic son--I think from now on we'll sit in the front.

 

Taking Time to Stop During Fall

There's something about the fall season, something a little hard to pinpoint exactly, that makes it my favorite season. 

There is something in the coolness of the air that initially always seems to sweep me back in time at least 25 years.  I will never completely understand it, but every year the onset of the fall season has the effect of transporting me through time.

Thus, for me and perhaps for many others, the season is a time to take a momentary pause: it's a good time to recollect.  The Thanksgiving holiday certainly gives us an opportunity to take a break before winter sets in, along with the busy commercial Christmas season, which for many has begun already.

Often I've heard that Advent is a good time to slow down.  Though honestly I've always run into a little trouble slowing down during December.  However, this year I've got it in my mind to do something besides letting myself get caught up in the rush--the remainder of fall and the beginning of Advent give the perfect opportunity to recollect on what is most important in life, and to make plans for what is ahead.

It's too fast, it seems, that life gets away from us.  Too fast that our families, our children, and our friends go on their way.  Sure, it's inevitable that time rushes on.  However, we can always slow down, even perhaps we may stop for awhile on the journey. 

When we want to hear what God has to say to us we have to be prepared to take time and listen.  Sometimes we have have to stop completely.  I believe that we should never underestimate the importance of pausing to see where we are in life.  It makes us appreciate where we have been, and it helps to better determine where it is that we want to go.

I'm including one of my photos.  I shot it Friday after Thanksgiving--it seems to encapsulate what I want to say.  When we take the time to recollect what is most important it's hard not to let the people in our lives figure prominently.  As a believer in answered prayer I think of the people in my life as having been the biggest source of God's love, and positive change, that I have ever known.

I'll be keeping these things in mind as I go back to work tomorrow morning, and as I prepare for Advent, and in some respects as I prepare for the rest of my life.  Nothing moves me spiritually like the season of Advent--even more than Lent, Advent has always had a profound effect on me.  During this time of year we are perfectly situated to look back on what was, to pause, and then to move ahead with life. 

The Invitation: a Message in a Web

Call me indulgent.  I really don't mind so much.  When it comes to being a parent a little indulgence goes a long way.  From my youngest son Dominic, who is autistic, I have learned to be indulgent to extremes--I have learned to watch him closely--to observe his mannerisms and idiosyncrasies--and to learn about God from him.

Dominic has a love for the things of nature.  I actually can't quite express it such a way to do him justice.  He finds the little things of creation and studies them; you might say he cherishes creation in a way peculiar to himself.  From the farthest objects in the cosmos, to the raccoon living under my shed, Dominic has learned to express love and fascination.  I find myself indulging and nurturing this in him more and more.  Along the way I share in his loves; I come to appreciate the things he appreciates.

Around my house we have come to respect practically every living thing, such was also the case when Dominic discovered a magnificent and quite large example of Argiope Aurantia living in the ivy at the front of my house.  Many people would have grabbed the bug spray right away.  However, Dominic had already named our new pet.  "I think we'll call her Taylor," he told me.  At that I realized we were the proud owners of new resident outside our home: Taylor the wonderful writing spider.

After Dominic, dad, mom, brother and sister, made several daily visits to the ivy Taylor eventually moved her web so that she would be closer to us--it only took her overnight to make the long journey around the side of the house to spin a web near the front window--it was a better place to trap bugs, we reasoned, and so Taylor lived near the window for a couple weeks, getting her daily visits from Dominic and the rest of us.  I even warned the fellow who mowed the yard about our special guest.

We took our care not to disturb her, or to get too close.  We simply stopped each day for a moment's admiration.  "Everything has its purpose" I'd tell the kids, "we can learn quite a bit from nature."

It was coincidental to the spider's arrival that Dominic began asking a lot of Jesus questions--sure, he's had religious education, but he hadn't really gotten into a lot of spontaneous questioning.  My wife was taking care of most of the answers, which I reckoned came right out of her traditional Catholic upbringing.  I was thinking about how I would have answered from my Evangelical upbringing, and how "You go to heaven by being good" wouldn't have been a part of those answers for me 20 years ago.  I was thinking more about how you invite Jesus in--sort of the way that we were inviting the spider without really knowing it so much.  Of course being good has everything to do with it: being good is how we imitate God.

In addition to Dominic's questions my daughter has also been talking a bit more about the faith.  She said a kid asked her if she "knew Jesus."  She answered that she certainly knows who he is but hadn't met him personally.  Quite honest for her I thought.  Give her time.   She'll find a way to refine that answer.  When you invite Jesus just a little, he will show up at your door.  It's just the way that nature works, and there's nothing that can be closer to nature than its Creator.  It's easy to see the good in things when you look for it.

Every invitation in life gets a response--whether from nature or from God--so there really should have been no big surprise this morning when I opened the door to leave the house for Mass and there was Taylor staring me right in the face.  You should have heard me scream.  I suppose there is a lesson in all of this, even a very biblical lesson--I'll leave it to you and your comments.

First Communion

Forgive my absence from the blog for the past few days.  The last weekend was a busy one for my family.  There was a lot of getting ready.  Dominic, my youngest son, made his First Communion Sunday morning.

First Communions at my parish, like at every parish, are a big deal.  We have them at the regular Masses, though over the course of two weekends.  It takes a lot for 250 second graders and families to squeeze all the special ceremony into the Mass with less than two hours between Masses at a parish of 4000 families.  Nevertheless, we do it every year and it works out fine.  Actually, it's a great witness to many family members, some of whom are not Catholic, who may be visiting our parish for the first time.

Regular readers know that my youngest son has autism.  It was a job to get him ready and I could never say thank you enough to his three religious education teachers.  Still I was nervous about everything happening right, so half way though the liturgy when Dominic decided to tell me that he was "allergic" to the host I knew that I'd better pray hard.  Here was the deacon and family next to the front row doing some major whispering to Dominic about his "not" having bread allergies.  "It's the Body of Jesus," I told him "no one is allergic to Jesus."  Finally, in a humorous sort of way, I told him that if didn't eat it he would die and then I turned it over to God.  Really, I did some of my most desperate praying at that moment while my boy sat there saying "hosts taste yucky."  Father had joked with me before Mass that root beer intinction was not an option.

Then the time came for communion.  We stepped out into the aisle.  Dominic first--I wanted to whisper to Father, "break a small piece for him," but I didn't.  Dominic got one of the triangles off the big host, which evidently sparked an interest.  Now comes the funny part--there was not a thing I could do about either--Dominic broke his host and handed a piece to mom, "here you go mom, he said," and then he broke a piece for me and all three of us had our small bland-tasting piece of the precious Body of Christ.  I was never so relieved in all my life to see him eat it.  Never mind the chalice.  I figured I wasn't that lucky.  We just herded him right past it.  When we got back to our pew the first thing Dominic said was, "At what time will I receive communion next week?" 

I was reflecting on my way home from work this afternoon about God being present with us Sunday.  There was never a chance that Dominic wouldn't receive his First Communion.  However, only a day later could I clearly hear God at Mass saying, "Settle down dad.  I'm in charge here!" 

Ice/Snow Day

It's not too often that we get an ice or snow day in central Texas, but when we do it's enough to shut things down--schools, roads, businesses.  It only takes a minuscule amount of frozen precipitation to make Texas roads impassable.  Well, at least that's how it seems.  Truthfully we rarely ever drive on ice, so when the opportunity presents itself things can get messy.

Thus, in addition to yesterday's MLK holiday, I've had an extra day added to my time off.  If the ice keeps falling, there may be yet another day to be home with the kids.  With all the fun of sliding down small hills on boogie boards made for surf, laundry baskets, and pool toys, I've hardly been able to get anywhere near a computer to do any blogging.

However, keep watching...Surely I'll find time somewhere...

Musings on the Morning of Christmas Eve

This morning I had the early Mass.  At St. Thomas More there are eleven Masses scheduled altogether today, though I'm a little uncertain about the exactness of that number.  It's one of those things that comes with being at an immensely large parish during the holiday season.  So, I had the 5 p.m. Mass yesterday evening and the  7 a.m. this morning.  That ought to do it, right?  Well, you've got add into the equation that today we celebrate both the fourth Sunday of Advent and then later this afternoon we'll get to the Christmas Vigil.  Yes, I still need to return this afternoon for two more liturgies (and there are several other liturgies as well).  It's enough to keep three priests and four deacons, and one liturgical coordinator busy all day.

But not so right now.  I'm taking a welcome moment to do something I haven't had much time for lately... Yes, the blog.  I must admit there's been something of a slow down from where I was when I started this thing way back in June.  It doesn't seem all that long now.  It's been a good six months of blogging and I anticipate many more to come, especially when I encounter quiet moments when I can relax and put my spiritual self into it.  Right now, I'm being as about spiritual as my soul will allow.  All the shopping is done, I'm settled back with a cup of chocolate-flavored coffee, and I'm enjoying the moment while I get ready to face the parking lot and the crowds at the parish this afternoon.

Winter has come late to central Texas, but finally it has arrived with chilly nonstop raining.  It's rained for past 20 hours now with the temperature holding at around 40.  Good thing we don't get snow very often in this part of the state!  I have a fire in the fireplace and the sound of televised Christmas music and children playing comes from the next room.  I take a moment to think back on the past when in my youth Christmas stood out as the one occasion, year after year, that I remember most.  I suppose the reason that Christmas stands out so well in my memories is because it is the event that brings people together.  And what better way is there to truly celebrate the coming of our salvation than by coming together to be with the ones you love?  For me, being with my wife and children fulfills the meaning of the season.  Certainly, I appreciate their allowing me to get away for a short while to serve the parish today.

Thus far, there have been plentiful blessings this year to balance out whatever difficulties I've faced.  I take Christmas as a moment to celebrate blessing.  I always celebrate my blessings with the ones I love, which also includes taking this moment to share with whomever might think of logging on to deacondanwright.org today--but hey, as Catholics we have this entire wonderful season of Christmas.  It won't be all gone day after tomorrow--I'll have other Christmas messages to share with you later this week I'm sure.  Our challenge, as Christians throughout the year, is to keep the blessings flowing.

As we head into Christmas--later today and this evening--I'll keep you in my prayers.  It's my tradition to stay at home and watch the Midnight Mass televised from Rome.  Many years before I became Catholic, when I was about 19 I remember watching the Mass from Rome with my mother.  It was celebrated by our great pope John Paul--the first Christmas of his pontificate.  I recall the conversation that my mother and I had that night as we were blessed by the pope's message and the beauty of the images from the Vatican.  It was at that time, I believe, that mother and I opened our hearts to the message of the Catholic faith.  I look back on it now as a miracle of faith--though certainly sublime.  John Paul had that kind of charisma; it was a time of blessing indeed.  However, the time for blessing is far from over.

May the blessing in your life continue in this Christmas season and beyond.  Wherever you are, family, friends, near and far... I pray that you have a most blessed Christmas season.  May it be bright and full of the joy and love that we find in Christ and in one another.