Children often have problems with generalization and conceptualization. For example, when I was very young I was told that Jesus lived in the tabernacle. Fine I thought, then that must mean there is furniture and stuff in there. So when the priest opened the tabernacle up on the high altar, I earnestly looked for the furniture and perhaps the little stair case going to a second floor, much like my sister’s dollhouse was set up.
But then the Nuns threw me for a loop in Sunday School when they asked “Where is God?” And then they supplied the answer, “Everywhere.” But wait a minute, I thought they said he lived in the tabernacle. And thus I could not generalize and specify very well with my 6 year old brain.
As for conceptualization, I remember being told by my mother that we were going to join my Father (who was in Vietnam at the time) for a two week vacation in Hawaii. She showed me the location of the Island chain on a globe in our house and I was immediately anxious. “How could we all fit on those little islands? They looked so tiny, and I could not conceptualize the notion of scale. I was truly shocked when my mother told me that not only could we all fit on those islands, but so could thousands of other people and also that our airplane could land on these seemingly tiny islands with room to spare. But for a seven year old brain this was all very implausible and I remained nervous about going to these little islands.
Yet another struggle I had was when I was told were going to move from Chicago to Florida. I asked my mother, “How will God be able to find me if we move?” I was actually quite concerned that even if He could find me, He might not want to walk that far to see me. I guess you might say I thought of God in a very localized way, a kind of local deity. Mother of course tried to reassure me but I wasn’t so sure.
I thought of that when I saw the video below. It is of a young boy who moves with his parents to a new house, somewhat near Christmas time. And he is obviously concerned to let Santa know his change of address so that the presents will be properly delivered. It’s quite cute really and a reminder of my earlier years with a more primitive brain.
Spiritually, though we likely move beyond the materially heretical notion of God as a “local deity” who might not want to walk so far to see us, it is still possible that we struggle at times with the notion that God has somehow forgotten, or forsaken us. When times get rough we may wonder where he is. In the video, “Santa” (a name which means “Holy one”) can represent God. And sometimes we need others, such as this young boy’s parents in the commercial, to help reassure us that God, the Holy One, is not far, has not forgotten and is well aware of our every move.
When God seems far or forgetful, it is good to have the Church and others in our life to remind us that God is more present to us that we are to ourselves, more knowing of us than we know ourselves.
A young monk went to the Abbot and said, “What am I to do about the distance I feel from God?” And the Abbot said, “Understand that it isn’t there.” “Does that mean that God and I are one?” Asked the monk. “Not one, not two.” Said the Abbot. “How can that be?” said the monk. The Abbot answered: “The ocean and its wave, the singer and his song…not one, not two.”
Enjoy this video and remember the word of the Lord, I will never forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands (Is 49:16)
I was asked by the Young Adult group in my parish to address some ads on our local buses and subway trains here in Washington. The members of the Young adult group found the ads offensive and troubling, especially since they were aimed at kids. The ads are posted by the American “Humanist” Association (AHA) and are indeed aimed at kids and teenagers. The focus of the message is “Kids without God: You’re not the only one.” I have altered the ad at the upper right of this post to avoid listing its website but as you can see God is represented by a seeming angry and/or accusing finger and a bemused teenager who says “I’m getting a bit old for imaginary friends.”
OK, so lets start with the necessary disclaimer. This is America and an folks are free to post billboards and promote ideas, even unpleasant or obnoxious ones. That said, I wonder if Christians would get away with the kind of demeaning and dismissive tone evident in these bill boards by the AHA.
Consider, first of all the timing of these ads, Christmas. Just about every year, the AHA runs its ads right during the Holy Season of Christmas and Chanukah. I would argue that this amounts to an intentional form of rudeness that the secular media would never accept in return from Christians.
Think, for example if, on “Earth day” (usually happens in April) Christians were to announce that, as far as we were concerned this had become an annoying celebration of the secularists, druids and others. And therefore we sought to ridicule their holiday by burning leaves, throwing trash around in public, or on our property, or turning all our lights on in protest. Perhaps too we might engage in personal ridicule on earth day, scoffing at them, calling them “tree huggers” and erecting posters encouraging people to kick a tree instead. It is unlikely we would be ignored by the media if we acted thus, on their special day, and ridiculed “Earth Day” and those who celebrate it. Rather we would be excoriated by the press and others for this.
And yet, many secularists and atheists rudely ridicule, mock and seek to put an end to our observance of Christmas. I am willing to engage secularists and atheists on matters of my faith, and I have done so on this blog. But acting, as many of them do, at the times of our sacred feasts is just plain rude, it is shameful behavior.
Next, note the ridiculing nature of the poster at the above right. The slogan equates faith in God with being childish and immature, as if faith in God were no different than “believing” in Santa Claus or some other imaginary friend, as little children do, who don’t know any better.
This dismissal of the belief in God as childish is insulting to the billions of people on this planet who DO believe in God. Belief in God is not childish, and God is not an “imaginary friend” for those of us who believe. I did have imaginary friends as a child, and I know the difference between what they where, and who God actually is. I am not stupid, and others who believe are not stupid, or childish, or immature.
I and others who believe, do so by the gift of faith and also because of the manifold evidence of God’s works and presence in our lives. I live in a world, that to my observation has obviously been designed and thus presents strong evidence of having a designer, that obviously has existence and thus has a source of that existence. Further, when I pray I am heard. I talk to the Lord every day, and I hear from him every day. I know and experience his presence in the depths of my soul, in deep contemplative experience, and in my daily life. And the Lord Jesus Christ is changing my life. His word and plan for my make sense to me, and have summoned me to a magnificent and joyful life. His gospel is a prophetic interpretation of reality that has have ordered my life and given meaning and explanations that comport with my lived experience. I have tested God’s promises and teachings in the laboratory of my own life and found them to be true.
Now an atheist or secularist is free to question me on any of this, and I understand that they doubt my experience or would what to explain it away. But the disrespectful nature of this AHA ad is rude and insulting. It presumes that I and others who believe are merely to be regarded as simpletons, clinging to childish notions and fairy tales. I am doing nothing of the sort. I am no fool, I am not a child, and God is not “an imaginary friend” to me. My life of faith is rooted in real experience and the manifold evidence of having tested God’s word, having found it true and wise, and seeing my life changed by God. I also have the lived experience of thousands of other acquaintances who believe, who know and encounter the Lord in their lives and experience his powerful presence.
There is also the lived experiences of billions of others, currently on this planet and those who have gone before who testify to the existence, presence and power of God in their lives.
Ridiculing all of us as simpletons, and implying that the ancient Catholic, Christian and Jewish faith amounts to no more than have “an imaginary friend is not only insulting and rude, it is uninformed. The intellectual, spiritual, liturgical, Scriptural and artistic legacy of the Judeo-Christian faith is both rich, and rooted in careful thought and balance. I would also add to this the many other great religious traditions on this planet. And while I do not agree with many of their fundamental tenants, the great contribution of these faith traditions to civilization and culture cannot be denied and should be respected.
Dismissing this great and rich tradition of faith and more than implying it is childish comes across as boorish, bigoted and unschooled.
Further the “pointed finger” supposedly representing God is also cartoonish, unbalanced and disrespectful to the great religious tradition. It is true that God does confront injustice, wrong-doing and sin in the Holy Scriptures I revere. But it is also true that those same scriptures teach and reveal that God creates everything in Love and provides for his children and creation. He is merciful and forgiving. He respects human freedom and summons us to follow him freely, not under compulsion. In his love he entered our world and joined his sufferings to ours, and repaired the ancient breach, reaching out a saving hand (not just a pointed finger) to all who take hold of it. The God I know and have personally met, loves immensely, and when he does seek to correct me, I experience it as an act of love just as the Scriptures assert (e.g. Hebrews 12). God has a passion to set things right in and for those whom he loves. Here too, the cartoonish simplification of God by the AHA is inaccurate and unschooled.
To summarize, the bill board, ad campaign of the American Humanist Association comes off as rude, boorish and bigoted. It steeps its message in a ridiculing notion and implication that billions of believers throughout this world and many more stretch back into time are nothing more than children who believe in an “imaginary friend.” The utter lack of respect for the rich cultural tapestry, careful intellectual tradition, and lived experience of billions of believers in this ad shows the AHA is little more than uniformed an unschooled in the traditions and faith they try to criticize. The timing, tactics and content of this bill board by the AHA show them to be far from the humanitarian principles they claim to promote.
There is nothing humanist or humanitarian in their ad at all. It is plain and simple, “Rude,” just plain rude.
The Gospel of December 19th features the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth and the conception of John the Baptist. And while there are certainly many teachings to be drawn from this passage, there is perhaps some value to focus for a moment on the imposition of silence made upon Zechariah. This aspect of the story maybe a particular value since we live in time marked By a lack of reflection and silence, and of often stridently expressed opinions and opposition to the hidden things of God.
The Gospel opens with a description of Zechariah and Elizabeth being devout observers of the Law, and with the observation that they have reached their later years without having children. Zechariah, in his priestly ministry, is selected to enter the Temple and offer incense at the designated hour. Within he encounters the Archangel Gabriel who announces the birth of John the Baptist. Zechariah wonders
How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years.
In this he is rebuked by Gabriel for his lack of faith and told,
You will be silent and unable to talk until the day these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled at their proper time. (Luke 1:19)
This rebuke causes some wonderment on our part. For it would seem that Zechariah’s response is not unlike that of the Blessed Mother who said, How will this be, since I know not man? (Lk 1:34). In our puzzlement we must remember that we have before us only a written text. We cannot hear the tone of voice that was used, or see other clues that indicate the attitude of Zechariah as he wonders how this can be. There must have been differences, for Mary’s question brings reassurance from Gabriel, Zechariah’s question draws rebuke.
Whatever the reason, let us ponder the the punishment declared by the Archangel.
In the first place, it seems that err if we regard the action merely as a punitive. Rather, we ought also to see it as a kind of remedy. In effect The Archangel draws of Zechariah into a kind of holy silence before the great mystery of the conception of John the Baptist. This silence will give him time to reflect and ponder, without speaking.
There is a human tendency to be analytical. Our intellect is central to our glory, and we have well used it to master nature, and unlock many aspects of the created world. And yet, glorious though our intellect is, it is also something over which we tend to stumble. There is a time simply to become quiet and ponder in reverent silence the fact that there are many mysteries beyond our ability to analyze or dissect.
For many, who think merely in the flesh, mysteries are something to be solved, something to be conquered. We moderns especially, presume that anything we do not currently understand, anything currently mysterious, we will one day fully understand, it is just a matter of time.
But the Christian tradition speaks more cautiously, about mystery. Mystery is something requires reverence. Mysteries are often something meant to be appreciated and respected, not merely to be set upon in order to be solved or unraveled. This is especially true with mysteries related to God, and to some extent human person.
Consider for example the mystery of your own person. You know much about yourself, but much lies hidden. Many things about us defy simple analysis, or categorization. In the face of this mystery, silence and reverence are essential. And while are insights about our inner self grow deeper with the passing years, we can never say we have conquered the mystery of our very self. Scripture says,
More tortuous than all else is the human heart, and beyond cure. Who can understand it? “I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind (Jer 17:9-10),
And if we are to have this reverence for our very self, we must also have it for one another. We must reverence the mystery of one another, never demanding insistently to know things which are not ours to know. And we must never arrogantly presume that we have someone “figured out.” To claim this trivializes the human person.
A fortiori – If reverence and a holy silence is appropriate before human mysteries, how much more reverent must our attitude be toward the mysteries of God and his ways. Scripture in many places commands us to a kind of holy silence before the mystery of God:
Silence, all people, in the presence of the LORD, who stirs forth from his holy dwelling. (Zechariah 2:17)
Be silent before the Sovereign LORD, for the day of the LORD is near. (Zephaniah 1:7)
Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. (Psalm 46:10)
Then Job answered the Lord:“I am unworthy—how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer—twice, but I will say no more.” (Job 40:4-6)
And thus we see in today’s Gospel, how Zechariah has imposed upon him the kind of holy silence, that he might reflect more deeply and reverently on the mysteries of God. He is not to speak, he is to be still, silent before the Lord who stirs from His holy dwelling. Words reduce and seek to capture mystery. Zechariah is to ponder in reverent silence. Not one word will he utter until it all comes true.
Zechariah also manifests another common human tendency, the tendency to scoff at things we do not understand. Rather than to draw back and seek to learn in holy silence and docility, we scoff at how unlikely or uncertain things are. Since we cannot understand it, it cannot possibly be. Never mind that with God all things are possible, or that even our sciences have shown us things which we never dreamed possible, discoveries of processes in nature that baffle the mind.
Yes, there is a time to speak, a time to ask, and a time to open our mouth in teaching. But there is also a time to sit quietly, to listen, to learn, ponder in silence. There is a time to reverence mystery in quiet, wordless admiration. There is a time to humbly except that there are many things beyond my ability to know or understand.
In this reverent silence there comes forth kind of holy wisdom, a wisdom that is not easily reduced to words. It is the wisdom that appreciates that the acceptance of mystery, is itself insight. It is a silence that opens us upward and outward away from the more tiny world of things we have “figured out.”
And thus Zechariah is reduced by the angel to silence, a holy and reflective silence before the mysterious and merciful work of God.
And what of us who are approaching the mystery of the incarnation, and who live in a world steeped in mystery? Do we scoff and what we do not understand? Do we rush to open our mouth in doubt or ridicule, or do silently ponder and listen, seeking to be taught? Do we accept that humility both opens the door to wisdom and is a kind of wisdom itself?
Find silence before Christmas: God stirs from His holy dwelling.
As the feast of Christmas approaches some reflection on the Motherhood of Mary seems appropriate. As mother to Jesus she has carried him in her womb some nine months now, and the time approaches when she will give birth to him, will show him to the world. In this, she is not only his mother, but also his first evangelizer, holding up Christ for the world to see.
As mother to Christ she has the role of nurturing his human nature and caring for him in the most tender and intimate of ways. How magnificent and yet how human her motherhood is. Two strophes from music come to mind which illustrate the glory and the tenderness of Mary as Mother of God. The first is from a rather ancient source (the translation is my own):
Alpha et O (Alpha and Omega) Matris in Gremio (is sitting in mommy’s lap)
– From the Hymn In Dulci Jublio
Angels and Archangels may have gathered there;
Cherubim and Seraphim thronged the Air.
But only his mother in her maiden bliss;
Worshiped the beloved with a kiss.
– From the hymn “Ere the Bleak Mid Winter” by Christina Rosetti (ca 1872)
Yes, here is the mystery and the majesty of the Motherhood of Mary in all its humanness, and tender love.
And Mary is our Mother too. I am a witness of how she has helped by her prayer and intercession to nourish and care for Christ in me, drawing my infant faith in Jesus to a mature and adult faith. At an earlier time in my life when I struggled, rebellious against what I saw as an authoritarian Church and God (I was wrong), it was Mary and her tender motherhood who provided a way back for me. She, like she had done at Bethlehem and Cana, held Christ up for me to see. She clarified his role and both God and Man, Savior and Brother.
And in being a mother to me, she, who is also an image of the Church, showed also to me the Church as a tender, teaching and nourishing Mother.
Yes, Mary, Mother Mary. Mother to Jesus, and my Mother too. For she who gave birth to the head, also gave birth to the Body. I am by Baptism a member of the Body of Christ, and so she who is mother to Christ the Head, is also mother to me, a member of Christ’s body. And my love for her has deepened my love and reverence for Christ and also for the Church of which Mary is a beautiful symbol.
Blessed Isaac of Stella (Abbot) wrote this beautiful reflection:
The whole Christ and the unique Christ—the body and the head—are one: one because born of the same God in heaven, and of the same mother on earth. They are many sons, yet one Son. Head and members are one Son, yet many sons; in the same way, Mary and the Church are one mother, yet more than one mother; one virgin, yet more than one virgin.
Both [The Church and Mary] are mothers, both are virgins. Each conceives of the same Spirit, without concupiscence. Each gives birth to a child of God the Father…
In the inspired Scriptures, what is said in a universal sense of the virgin mother, the Church, is understood in an individual sense of the Virgin Mary, and what is said in a particular sense of the virgin mother Mary is rightly understood in a general sense of the virgin mother, the Church. When either is spoken of, the meaning can be understood of both, almost without qualification….
Christ dwelt for nine months in the tabernacle of Mary’s womb. He dwells until the end of the ages in the tabernacle of the Church’s faith. He will dwell for ever in the knowledge and love of each faithful soul.
From a sermon by Blessed Isaac of Stella, abbot
(Sermo 51: PL 194, 1862-1863, 1865)
Mary is more than a Christmas ornament. She is Mother of God, Mother of Jesus and therefore our mother too. Let her give you a mother’s care this Christmas. For, in giving birth to Christ the Head, she also gives birth to His Body, the Church, and that includes you and me. In nurturing and holding Christ, she also holds you and me. In singing him a lullaby she also sings to us. And, as a Cana when she urged him to work his first miracle and begin his saving work, so does she urge us also to step out and witness to the power and majesty of Jesus her Son and our Lord and Head.
Let Mary show you a mother’s love this Christmas.
Here’s a little video I put together. The words to the song begin:
I saw a Maiden sitting
and singing unto her child, a little Lording
Lu-lay lu-lay my dear son, my sweetie
Lu-lay lu-lay My dear heart
My own dear darling
As Christmas approaches, we might ponder the holy that the Holy Family were making a journey, not to some shopping mall, but South to Bethlehem. In the brief reflection that follows, I take liberties and combine imagination with known facts and the cultural context of the time. But in your mind’s eye see a couple setting forth from a tiny village called Nazareth, a town so small (barely 300 souls) that there was not even a road going to it, just a foot path. Perhaps they headed south for Hazor to connect with the Via Maris. We do not know for sure the route they took.
Yes, consider, that even now in this week before the birth, some 2000 years ago, they would be making this difficult journey well into Mother Mary’s ninth month of pregnancy. Mary with Jesus, resting in utero, just beneath her heart. She, with Joseph is walking some seventy miles south through very hilly terrain. These were not small hills. They were more on the scale of the Appalachian Mountains here in Eastern America. (see photo above right taking along the Via Maris near Megido)
The census has been called, and the timing could not be worse. It is certain that they will be away from home for this birth of enormous importance.
Many artists picture of her riding on a donkey. I have my doubts that this was the case. She and Joseph are among the working poor, and is doubtful they could have afforded such a costly beast of burden. I wonder too, if a woman so late in pregnancy, could really ride a donkey. It is possible that Joseph had some sort of wagon for her to ride in. But I suppose quite frankly, she probably walked.
These were hardy people, these ancient Israelites. They were used to make it to long journeys back-and-forth Along the Via Maris, or perhaps along the King’s Highway further West. Either way, lots of hills, lots of steep inclines.
Clearly, great anxiety and concerns accompany them as they headed south. There was nothing sentimental about the first Christmas, it was marked by great hardships, hardships that prefigured the cross.
Ancient travel was not just difficult, it was dangerous. Robbers and other criminals lurked along the traveled paths seeking vulnerable targets. Surely a man accompanying a pregnant woman to be a vulnerable target. And though Scripture mentions no such robbery or assault, neither Joseph or Mary knew this, setting out.
The Scriptures are silent, if any friends accompanied them. But given the dangers, it is unthinkable that people traveled these routes alone, or even in pairs. Rather, people traveled in groups for safety. Yet, it seems likely that Joseph and Mary would have struggled to keep up with the group, given Mary’s condition.
Yet another source of anxiety must have centered on lodging in Bethlehem just ahead. Those were not days of Orbitz, or easy reservations. One set out not knowing precisely the arrangements that would be had.
But onward they go. Perhaps stopping here and there to rest with the group. It was not easy. It was arid, and the terrain was rocky, and hilly. Carrying water along was critical but heavy, as were the other essentials of clothes, basic food and a cloak in which to sleep on the chilly evening. Even if the day is hot, the temperature drops rapidly in the arid climate of the Middle East. Joseph carries a walking stick, not to lean, but for defense.
Most of us moderns can barely walk a mile, even on flat terrain. But, as we have noted, these were hardy people, accustomed to hardship, and difficulty.
Spend some time praying and journeying with the Holy Family these next days. They journey for us. Walk with them, pray and ponder what lies ahead. Christ is near, even at the gates.
This video contains further reflections, some of them different from my own, but much of what we must do on these spiritual journeys is speculative.
I had no idea, on Thursday night, when I posted on my sister Mary Anne, on her struggle with mental illness, and also that of my parents to speak to her dignity, and her needs, that a terrible act of violence would unfold on Friday morning (see that post HERE). And while all the facts are not before us, it would seem that, mental illness, and how we as a society deal with the mentally ill, is central to the tragedy that unfolded in Connecticut.
I want to speak to you, in a personal way, as someone who has experienced in his own family the devastating impact of mental illness. I want to write of the struggle to deal with it in a way that respects the dignity of the mentally ill and also the need to protect the common good.
As for my sister Mary Anne and of her 30 year struggle with mental illness, I wrote last week. She had moments of great lucidity, and peace. But these moments were often punctuated by deep troubles, wherein she heard “the voices” who instructed her to do terrible things, acts of violence, acts that harmed her and others. In these, “dark moments” she perpetrated acts of violence, breaking into stores, engaging, not only in shoplifting, but also, it attempted armed robbery, breaking and entering, and other, almost pointless destruction of property. Many times she turned on herself, several times slashing her wrists, taking overdoses, trying to jump to her death. Once, she accosted my mother with a long carving knife. Another time, she successfully stabbed my mother, wounding her seriously in the middle of the night, while she slept. My sister also, set fires, and would ultimately die in a fire that she kindled.
And yet in all of this, my sister Mary Anne, had many lucid moments, wherein she was gentle, kind, helpful and deeply concerned for the well-being of all of us. She was a beautiful human being who struggled mightily to keep her mental health, in the face of a horrible affliction that often overtook her. She loved God, and like all of us, sought his face and the serenity and healing that only God can give.
In all of this, my parents too were engaged in a great battle. It was not a battle that was not easily defined. It was a battle that sought to protect my sisters rights, and her dignity. But it was also a battle that sought to protect the common good, which my parents rightly thought was threatened by my sister’s instability.
Early in my sister’s struggle with mental illness, she was confined to the rather protected environment of mental hospitals. That said, men of these places were not pleasant. And my parents, expended many personal resources, and money to ensure that my sister was in the best of possible environments. But honestly, the protected environment of a mental hospital was best for her, that is where she an others were best protected.
Somewhere, in the late 1970s, as I recall, the ACLU, and other interest groups, sued the federal government, claiming that many were being unjustly detained in mental hospitals. Having lost a series of suits, the government largely emptied the mental hospitals, resulting in a great exodus of the seriously mentally ill into our streets.
As most of you know, the “homelessness” problem, in our large cities, was deeply rooted in mental illness. Who of us have encountered homeless persons have seen the depths of their pain and understand that they struggle with mental illness, and also addiction. I know the mental hospitals prior to 1975 were not wonderful, or well-run, but I have grave concerns that we overreacted and severed many people from the necessary, and protected environment that they most needed.
My sister, was among those who were ushered out of mental hospitals, and placed into group homes settings and other less protected environments. Ultimately, this led to the death of my sister, and of great pain for many others.
In the years following her dismissal from the mental hospital system, my sister bounced back and forth through many different group homes. She often ran off, and in her difficult moments and became involved in many incidents that harmed her and others.
In all this, my parents engaged in an ongoing battle, to have her reconsidered for commitment to the more protected environment of the secured mental hospital. Repeatedly, they were denied. Frankly, with the jurisprudence of the time, these mental health officials had little to go on. The emphasis was on the rights of the mentally ill to be emancipated, and their own safety, and the safety of the community seemed to be quite secondary.
Having proved incapable of stably navigating the group home system my sister was NOT placed back into the mental hospital system, but in fact, was further disconnected from mental health services. She was assigned “Section 8 housing,” and merely given access to daycare facilities.
My parents protested this low level of care, indicating her history of violence and other antisocial acts when she went into crisis. But my sister was a 30-year-old woman, and the state mental health officials indicated that she had rights. And while my parents concerned were legitimate, the officials indicated there was little they could do.
Having been assigned a Section 8 apartment, my sister would be dead within one month. Sure enough, without careful supervision she went off her medicines. She began to act out, breaking into a local convenience store, and committing various other acts of vandalism. The neighbors spoke of her as “strange” and of standing out on her porch late at night speaking out an singing odd songs. Having been arrested on several occasions she was returned to her apartment.
My parents requested her immediate committal, but she protested, and the police indicated that court procedures would have to be followed. A final brief conference with my parents, the police, and my sister ended with a very unreasonable solution: an unstable and very angry young woman was left alone in her own apartment, insisting that police and parents leave her alone. In all this there was no legal recourse. And so my parents, and the police left.
With in one hour, a fire erupted in my sister’s apartment, a fire the investigators had be set, and in which she tragically died. Mary Anne had a history of setting fires when she heard the voices. Twenty-five other families were left without a home that night and many lives were altered.
Please understand, mental illness is a complicated. It remains true that the mentally ill, and mentally incompetent do not lose their rights or dignity. But among those rights and dignities are the need for them to be protected. Many of them struggle with very fragile mental health. The distinction between lucidity and insanity are very fine lines. Simply missing a dose of medicine, or lacking a basic support structure can send them over the edge.
I still weep for my sister, even now as I write this. She was a good woman, a woman who loved God, a woman who loved us, but a woman who struggled mightily to keep her sanity. She was a woman who heard voices, who was a assailed with demonic oppression. She wanted to be well. She deserved better than to die in an apartment alone, surrounded by flames. She died weeping. Many others also suffered that night, those who lost their homes, and my parents who lost their only daughter. Yes, so many suffered.
Could this have been prevented? I think so.
As we grieve the loss of so many in Connecticut, we do not know all the details. But it seems increasingly clear that Adam, who committed these acts, was a deeply troubled young man. It is perhaps easy for us to think of him only as “a monster.” But perhaps the reality is more complex than that. I will not say more of the Connecticut case, we do not know the details. I ask only your prayers for those who have suffered, including Adam and his family.
Among the things that we need to consider as we assess this terrible tragedy, is how we deal with the mentally ill. In saying this, I do not deny that there are legitimate concerns related to guns, violent video games, and other deep wounds in our families, including divorce and a culture gone awry. But among the reflections should be a consideration of mental illness, and the mentally ill. They are not unambiguously evil people. They, like my sister, struggle to find moments of sanity in a mental landscape often assailed by voices, and innumerable psychopathic episodes that disconnect them chronically or episodically from that precious thing we call reality, and good mental health.
People suffer from, and even die from mental illness daily. Finding a way to balance their civil rights, and their need to live in contact with others, must be balanced with the common good, with the need for all of us to live safely. I know, that we did not get the balance right with my sister, Mary Anne. She deserved better than to die alone in an apartment surrounded by flames. And the twenty-five other families, who lost a home that night, also deserved better.
We need to pray and work consistently for a proper solutions for the mentally ill, a solution that respects their individual rights, needs, and dignity and balances these with the needs of the common good, and wider society. May all who suffer from mental illness, and all who suffer with the mentally ill, be blessed encouraged by our God who alone can wipe every tear from our eyes.
One of the great mysteries to to believer and non-believer alike is the mystery of evil and suffering. If there is a God who is omnipotent and omniscient how can he tolerate evil, injustice, and suffering of the innocent? Where was God yesterday when the shootings in Connecticut occurred? Where is God when a young girl is raped, when genocide is committed, when evil men hatch their plots? Why Did God even conceive the evil ones, and let them be born?
The problem of evil cannot be simply answered. It is a mystery. It’s purpose and why God permits it are caught up in our limited vision and understanding. The scriptures say how “all things work together for the good of those who love and trust the Lord and are called according to his purposes.” But how this is so is difficult for us to see in many circumstances.
Anyone who have ever suffered tragic and senseless loss or observed the disproportionate suffering that some must endure cannot help but ask, why? And the answers aren’t all that satisfying to many for suffering is ultimately mysterious in many ways.
I have some respect for those who struggle to believe in the wake of tragedy. I do not share their struggle but I understand and respect its depths and the dignity of the question. At the end of the trail of questions, often asked in anguish, is God who has not chosen to supply simple answers. Perhaps if he were our simple minds could not comprehend them anyway. We are left simply to decide, often in the face of great evil and puzzling suffering, that God exists or not.
As in the days of Job, we cry out for answers but little is forthcoming. In the Book of Job, God speaks from a whirlwind and He questions Job’s ability to even ask the right questions, let alone venture and answer to the problem and presence of evil and suffering. If He were to explain, it seems all that we would hear would be thunder. In the end he is God and we are not. This must be enough and we must look to the reward that awaits the faithful with trust.
Perhaps the most perplexing aspect of suffering is its uneven distribution. In America we suffer little in comparison to many other parts of the world. Further, even here, some skate through life strong and sleek, wealthy and well fed. Others endure suffering, crippling disease, inexplicable and sudden losses, financial setbacks, and burdens.
It is a true fact that a lot of our suffering comes from bad choices, substance abuse and lack of self-control. But some suffering seems unrelated to any of this.
And the most difficult suffering to accept is that caused on the innocent by third parties who seem to suffer no penalty. Parents who mistreat or neglect their children, the poor who are exploited and used, caught in schemes others have made, perhaps it is corrupt governments, perhaps unscrupulous industries, or crazed killers.
Suffering is hard to explain or accept simply. I think this just has to be admitted. Simple slogans and quick answers are seldom sufficient in the face of great evil and suffering. Perhaps when interacting with an atheist of this third kind, sympathy, understanding and a call to humility goes farther than forceful rebuttal.
A respectful exposition of the Christian understanding of evil might include some of the following points. Note, these are not explanations per se (for suffering is a great mystery) and they are humble for they admit of their own limits.
The Scriptures teach that God created a world that was as a paradise. Though we only get a brief glimpse of it, it seems clear that death and suffering were not part of the garden.
But even there the serpent coiled from the branch of a tree called the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and EVIL. So even in paradise the mystery of evil lurked in minimal form.
In a way the tree and the serpent had to be there. For we were made to love. And love requires freedom and freedom requires choices. The Yes of love must permit of the No of sin. In our rebellious “no” both we and the world unraveled, death and chaos entered in. Paradise was lost and a far more hostile and unpredictable world remained. From this fact came all of the suffering and evil we endure. Our sins alone cause an enormous amount of suffering on this earth, by my reckoning that vast majority of it. Of the suffering caused by natural phenomenon this too is linked to sin, Original Sin, wherein we preferred to reign in a hellish imitation rather than serve in the real paradise.
This link of evil and suffering to human freedom also explains God’s usual non-intervention in evil matters. Were God to do so routinely, it would make an abstraction of human freedom and thus removes a central pillar of love. But here too there is mystery for the scriptures frequently recount how God does intervene to put an end to evil plots, to turn back wars, shorten famines and plagues. Why does he sometimes intervene and sometimes not? Why do prayers of deliverance sometimes get answered and sometimes not? Here too there is a mystery of providence.
The lengthiest Biblical treatise on suffering is the Book of Job and there God shows an almost shocking lack of sympathy for Job’s questions and sets a lengthy foundation for the conclusion that the mind of man is simply incapable of seeing into the depths of this problem. God saw fit that Job’s faith be tested and strengthened. But in the end Job is restored and re-established with even greater blessings in a kind of foretaste of what is meant by heaven.
The First Letter of Peter also explains suffering in this way: In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 1:6-7) In other words, our sufferings purify and prepare us to meet God.
Does this mean that those who suffer more need more purification? Not necessarily. It could also mean that a greater glory is waiting for them. For the Scriptures teach Therefore, we are not discouraged; rather, although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison(2 Cor 4:16-17) Hence suffering “produces” glory in the world to come. With this insight, those who suffer more, but with faith, will have greater glory in the world to come.
Regarding the apparent injustice of uneven suffering it will be noted that the Scriptures teach of a great reversal wherein many who are last shall be first (Mat 20:16), where the mighty will be cast down and the lowly exulted, where the rich will go away empty and poor be filled. (Luke 1:52-53) In this sense it is not necessarily an blessing to rich and well fed, unaccustomed to any suffering. For in the great reversal the first will be last. The only chance the rich and well healed have to avoid this is to be generous and kind to the poor and those who suffer (1 Tim:6:17-18).
Finally, as to God’s apparent insensitivity to suffering, we can only point to Christ who did not exempt himself from the suffering we chose by leaving Eden. He suffered mightily and unjustly but also showed that this would be a way home to paradise.
To these points I am sure you will add. But be careful with the problem of evil and suffering. It has mysterious dimensions which must be respected. Simple answers may not help those who struggle with the problem of suffering and evil. Understanding and an exposition that shows forth the Christian struggle to come to grips with this may be the best way. The “answer” of scripture requires faith but the answer appeals to reason, and calls us to humility before a great mystery of which we see only a little. The appeal to humility before a mystery may command greater respect from an atheist of this sort than pat answers which may tend to alienate.
My Father died a little over five years ago, and except for essential papers related to his estate, I simply boxed up most of his papers and stored them in the attic of my rectory for future attention. At long last I am sorting through those papers. Among his effects were also many papers of my mother, who died some seven years ago.
I must say that there are many moving things I discovered, as I read through their papers and I was reminded that many of us never really know the pain and grief that some others bear. I particular I was struck at the poignant file that was simply labeled, “Mary Anne.” (Picture of all of them at right)
My sister Mary Anne was tragically afflicted with mental illness from her earliest days. My parents knew there was trouble early on when she did not speak a word till she was well past two, and then only at home. She had a pathological shyness that led her to shut down in the presence of others outside the home. By six years of age, the counselor at her elementary school spoke of her as “disturbed” and insisted on psychiatric care.
Discretion and brevity limit what I intend to share. But she was deeply troubled, by age 13 she had to be hospitalized and spent the remainder of her life in 15 different mental hospitals and 6 different group homes. She was often able to visit with us, and even stay over on weekend passes. She had stretches where she was stable. But soon “the voices” returned, as did the dreams that afflicted her. Her psychotic episodes often led to running away, outbursts of violence, and suicidal attempts.
Through all of this my parents fought very hard for her, and to be sure she go the care she needed. This often led them to various courts and generated quite a correspondence with insurance companies and mental health officials of the State and private hospitals where she was confined. Indeed, in her life my parents made many sacrifices for Mary Anne, financial and personal, to ensure her care. At one point in the early 1970s, aware that Mary Anne felt isolated in the house with three brothers and wanted a sister, they went so far as to seek to adopt a baby girl, filing papers and coming very close, but the plan fell through. The baby sister we never had.
Maryanne died in a fire in the winter of 1991 at the age of 30. She likely had a hand in that fire, and had often set fires before when the voices told her to. I could see the pain on her face as her body lay in the casket. And I wept when I saw her. The funeral director explained there was little he could do since her skin had been singed in the fire. She had clearly been crying when she died. A grief observed.
Of her, my father wrote this on the frontispiece of her file that I discovered:
Mary Anne Pope was our first child.
She led a tortured existence during a short life
and fought hard against great odds.
We remember her for her courage.
And as I read my own parents’ touching recollections of Mary Anne I could not help but moved too by their own pain. Such a heavy grief punctuates each page. I give them great credit for the fact that they insulated the rest of us, their three boys, from most of the dreadful details of poor Mary Anne’s struggle. They kept their pain largely to themselves and stayed available to us. It is true their were episodes we had to know about, but as a young boy and teenager I saw in my parents only strength and stability when it came to this matter. I saw my father’s grief and pain for the first time, as he wept, standing there at the funeral home looking at my sister. A grief observed.
After my sister’s death, my mother’s grief grew steadily worse and it caused her struggle with alcohol to worsen as well, to the point that she became increasingly incapacitated. Her life ended tragically and suddenly on a cold February day. My father had looked away only for a moment, gone to the kitchen to make a sandwich, and mom wandered out into a snowstorm. Incapacitated by alcohol, and disoriented, she died of hypothermia. We found her body only after three days of searching when the snow melted a bit. She had died almost a mile away, near the edge of the woods. A grief observed.
My father never quite forgave himself for letting her slip away. The open front door, a first sign of trouble. The searching on a dark frigid and stormy night, and the steady awareness, “She’s gone.” Those memories haunted him. In the months that followed he often wondered how he could go on when half of him was gone. He too was gone within two years. His congestive heart failure worsened and he died of a literal broken heart, and a figurative one as well in 2007. A grief observed.
All these thoughts sweep over me as I look through this file “Mary Anne.” I pray, dear reader, that I have not lingered too long for you on these personal matters. But the truth is, all of us carry grief, and perhaps this story will help you with your own, which I pray is not too heavy.
There is an old spiritual that says, Nobody knows the trouble I seen….Nobody but Jesus. And it is a mighty good thing that he does know. Sometimes the grief is too heavy even to share, even to put into words. But Jesus knows all about our trouble. There is a beautiful line in the Book of Revelation which refers to those who have died in the Lord and says of Jesus and them He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” (Rev 21:4-5)
And for my brave parents and courageous sister, who all died in the Lord, but who died with grief, I pray this text has already been fulfilled, and they enjoy now that everything is new. A grief observed no longer.
Requiescant in pace
This second video I made on what would have been my parents 50th anniversary. I picked the song “Cold enough to snow,” since it spoke to my Father’s grief in losing mom on that snowy night.
