The Heart of the Matter

This year's Conference on World Affairs

The other day the weather was so fine that I took a few minutes on my front porch.  Being in this part of Boulder, almost always a very engaging encounter happens even during a few minutes of sitting on my front porch.  So, along comes a very erudite parishioner who had just days before successfully defended his doctoral thesis.  Later that same day he attended an event called "Evangelical Atheism," put on by the University's Conference on World Affairs. 

He expected that there would have been a more academic understanding of "evangelization", meaning "spreading the good news."  He thought the speakers would talk about what they perceived to be the good news of throwing off the shackles of religion and the importance of proselytizing so others might get free.

Instead, it became a series of presenters and audience bashing or mocking "religious people" who had done some dastardly deed, or said some absurd, hurtful thing, or, well, one thing after another about so-called religious hypocrites.  No one spoke about God, or not believing in God, or why atheism is the way to go, or anything germane to the question of God.  It was all about anger against some religious people.

There is a very important imperative here for religious people.  It's not only what we say about our faith that wins people over to believing in God.  It is also the integrity of living what we believers say we believe that wins people to God.  Likewise, it is our failures to live up to our beliefs that throws a stumbling block in front of doubters or non-believers.  If you'd like a serious look at what evangelization really is, check out this apostolic exhortation (click here) by Pope Paul VI, written back in 1975, but still packed with meaning today as much as ever.

Some things that need to be avoided at all costs

Last summer while I was sitting on my front porch I met a lady who was deeply troubled.  The word that came to my mind was "possessed."  Today I was visited by the very same lady who told me what happened to her since we met last summer.  She is now very well, and the priest I had encouraged her to go see was very helpful to her.  Without going into the details, I can say the following:

Be aware that there are certain doorways to danger that should be avoided at all costs.  These doorways allow evil spirits into one's soul and can create havoc that can be avoided.  How?  By steering clear of such things as: Seances, Ouija Boards, Tarot Cards, Fortune Tellers, and the like.

Do you remember the story in the First Book of Samuel in the Old Testament about King Saul going to see the witch of Endor, asking her to conjure up the dead prophet Samuel?  It's one of the saddest stories of the Old Testament.  But the very fact that the witch of Endor was able to conjure up Samuel tells us that there are things we should not get into.  It wound up being the death of Saul.  So, steer clear of these kinds of things; and if you have gotten into any of them go to confession.

Jabba

I think my favorite place on earth is my front porch.  When I have some free time, and when the weather is good, which is almost all the time, I take my dog, Jabba, out on the front porch and "set a spell."  Inevitably someone comes walking along, and Jabba is an immediate eye-catcher and a draw. 

Her instinctive reaction is to like people.  Very occasionally she reacts with disinterest or apprehension.  She's like a barometer detecting the inner atmosphere of the approaching person.  Overwhelmingly, she reacts with joy at whoever comes by.  Yesterday she reacted with joy at someone who came to the porch for a cup of coffee.  He is invested in helping our parish become a brighter beacon of light shining in the darkness.  He's one of those rare people who doesn't just tell you what "you" ought to do, or what "they" ought to do.  No, he is the kind of man who takes the bull by the horns and makes things happen. 

Anyway, Jabba liked him a lot.

Socks

"Socks."  That's what I call him.  He's the Albanian who needed a pair of socks before he went to the hospital in despair and with badly swollen feet.  Down on his luck, so oppressed by depression that he's been on disability for much of his life in America.  He grew up in a town in Albania not too far from the town that Mother Teresa came from.  Usually when beggars come by they seem, if one can be judgmental for a moment, like scam artists.  The Lord doesn't want us to sit in judgment of others, I know, but that sentiment pops up a number of times.  "Socks," however, seems like a different kind of hard luck story.  I told him, "Perhaps Mother Teresa sent you here."  (So: Mother Teresa, if that is so, then please intercede for Socks.)  After Socks got out of the hospital he met and introduced me to a lady who describes herself as an "Episcopalian Buddhist who sings in a Lutheran choir."  Very Boulder.  I've run into such folks before.  She says she was impelled by "desung" to help him.  "Desung" is a Buddhist call to assist in situations where the well-being of individuals, groups and the community as a whole is disturbed.  So Socks introduced me, through his new friend, to a whole new world of "desung," of people who actually do what Jesus told us to do: care for the poor; and who's poorer that someone suffering from mental distress as Socks does?  Or, in the words of Jesus, "When you throw a party, don't invite your relatives and friends.  They can repay you.  Rather, invite those who cannot repay you.  And your heavenly Father will repay you in the resurrection of the just."  This reminds me not only to care for the poor, but also to encourage all of us to be grateful for our mental health.  So often we take it for granted. 

What a view on the world

My house faces north, in downtown Boulder, and the front of the house has a front porch.  It's an absolutely fascinating place.  There is always something interesting happening on my street.  College students come by and, seeing me, stop and visit and frequently enough wind up going to confession.  Beggars come by and tell the most unbelievable stories; some are so skilled at creating their pitch for money that you just have to give them a few bucks because of their creativity for making up such a story, or if the story is true, it is worthy of help.  Mexicans coming for some church event pour into the neighborhood, otherwise a very lily white part of downtown, and fill the air with Latino music, garrulous families with oodles of children, and cart-carrying entrepreneurs selling corn on the cob on a stick dipped in sugar, and some other sweet stuff that's too sweet for me.  They sure bring a different slice of life, and a lot of children, to our very vibrant Boulder.  Recently a man from Albania came by.  He had left Albania 20 years ago during the Balkan breakup.  He and his brother escaped by attempting to swim from the Albanian coast to the Italian coast.  While he actually made it to Italy, his brother drowned in the sea.  He didn't ask for money.  All he wanted was a pair of socks.  His feet were badly swollen and he was going to the hospital but he was embarrassed for the hospital people to see his socks. I gave him a gray pair of socks.  Also there's Lucy who comes by on her way to morning Mass.  She's a substitute teacher in the public school system.  She's always attempting to give me a woman's insight into, well, just about everything.  She sure makes a day start off right.