Loneliness or Solitude?

The spiritual journey is one of both loneliness and solitude. We have to dwell in this place of silence to find God, whether that be in prayer, taking a walk or just taking a break.

Loneliness is about fear. Fear that we are alone, that no one cares, that no one will ease our pain. But we can find God in our loneliness. His grace and love meets us there. He gives us strength, power, and confidence when we have none, and turn our will over to him.

Solitude is a sense of peace we feel when we know who we are in God and we know we are being held and acting in his will. Paradoxically, our nothingness becomes his everything, and we come to know ourselves as his Beloved.

I reflected on these ideas the past two days after reading about Jared Loughner, the accused shooter in Tuscon, Arizona. Jared saw himself as a nihlist, someone who believed that life had no purpose. The world had no meaning for him. His life had no meaning. Yet everyday he woke up and found himself to be alive. He must have felt his life to be a daily curse. If I am given the gift of life each day, but I am convinced that my life has no meaning, then the logical conclusion, as Loughner seemed to have made, was that we should want to die.

As an expert marksman, Loughner had the skill and tools to destroy life. And so he did.

This is the paradox of the spiritual life. God wants to meet us in our loneliness and despair, but we have to invite him in to help us. Loughner found rightly that the external world could not satisfy him, and it seems he was unhappy with this answer. He was struggling for more, but the devil turned his heart toward destruction and physical violence instead of surrender.

Fr. Sertillanges, a Dominican preacher, says, "Suffering is an extreme remedy which either cures the evil or makes it worse, which strengthens or kills." He continues, saying, "Unhappy is he who carries the cross of Jesus but who is not with Jesus."

I pray for Loughner and for men and women like him who are living a life of suffering and despair. I pray that they listen and surrender their hearts to a God who wants to hold them in their loneliness, ease their pain, and invite them into the peace of solitude.

Who is My Neighbor?

Housing Opportunities for Women (HOW) has provided housing for homeless women in Rogers Park since 1983. The goal is to provide women housing as soon as possible to get them off the streets and then offer “wrap-around” support services to help them move forward in their life (e.g. mentally, financially, emotionally).

HOW’s philosophy of housing homeless women reminds me of the parable of the Good Samaritan that Jesus tells us in Luke 10:25. In the parable, the Samaritan man is the one who stops to help a man who is attacked by robbers on the road to Jericho, and he attends to his needs by putting him up in an inn to rest and heal from his injuries. Key to Jesus’ call to love our neighbor in this parable, is the giving of hospitality - - especially giving hospitality to those who have been abandoned.

In the parable, the Samaritan man takes out two denarii and gives them to the innkeeper, saying, “Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.” At HOW, the women served typically stay in their program for an average 4-5 years. In this context I think about the parable and wonder how Jesus’ audience at the time would have reacted if the Samaritan would have agreed to care for the injured man for this period of time. They probably would have laughed. The parable was challenging enough for them already.

On the other hand, most of the time when Jesus physically healed someone he was doing more than attending to their physical needs, he was healing them spiritually and forgiving their sins. While outwardly their injury or disability was visibly obvious, Jesus cared more about the condition of their hearts, and I think this is true of HOW.
Building on the initial impact HOW has made with homeless women in Rogers Park, HOW decided ten years ago to get involved in Partners for Rogers Park (PRP), which is a coalition of a dozen community organizations. The coalition began to try to make the community safe from crime, drugs, violence, and to create a community plan and promote affordable housing in the neighborhood.

Thinking of Jesus’ ministry again, one thing that was always apparent was that as he went from town to town preaching, teaching, and healing, the Scribes and Pharisees were always at his heals criticizing and challenging him. “You can’t do that. What gives you the right to do that? Who are you, and under what authority do you do these things?”

Similarly, I was surprised to learn that PRP has had problems with its own brand of Pharisees: Bloggers. It seems these bloggers have used the Internet as a way to criticize and challenge the progress being made in Rogers Park. I guess it all goes to show that human nature hasn’t changed that much over the last 2000 years.

Help the Homeless!

"Streetwise, get your Streetwise here! It's got my story in it, but if you don't like it you can tack it on the wall and throw darts at it."

That's the pitch I heard recently one afternoon I was walked through my neighborhood. The Streetwise vendor, Gregg Cole, was assuming he regular post outside Potbelly Sandwiches. After hearing his remark, I decided to turn around, get off my bike and have a word with him.

I said, "That's great that your story is in Streetwise, but don't say the part about 'throwing darts at it if you don't like it." And Gregg said, "People think it's funny."

Pausing, I added, "Your story is important. Don't deflate it. Let them decide if they like it after they read it. By adding your comment about 'throwing darts' at the story, you're creating doubt in their minds whether the story is any good, and whether they should waste their time buying your magazine."

"I see what you mean," Gregg said. "I'll try it without that line and see what happens. Thanks. Here, let me give you a free copy of the magazine. Read it and tell me what you think."

"Thanks Gregg, have a great day. God bless you!"

REFLECTION

This story reinforces for me the saddest part of homelessness: the loss of a person's dignity. On the one hand this man is being vulnerable on the street, selling his story to make a living and stay off the streets, and on the other hand he has doubts about whether his story is any good. Why would someone want to buy or hear my story? I'm homeless. I have little value to society. Some people don't even see me. I have no status, few belongings, and call myself homeless, rather than "Gregg."

I've never been homeless before, and I can only imagine how humiliating the experience is. I think we need to challenge ourselves each day when we see a homeless man or women and look them in the eye and ask them their name. They deserve to be noticed, treated with dignity, and to receive our daily prayers. Give them money when you can, but take a moment to engage them in a short conversation and let them know they are beloved children of God who deserve our attention.

The Hope for Miracles and Resurrection

Two stories in the news struck me this week. One of a hiker lost in the wilderness of Colorado and the other of the 33 Chilean miners rescued after being trapped underground for two months. One was lost, and the others were found.

On the one hand, you could say that these two stories are metaphorical, but they are the actual stories of actual people's lives. People who were trapped, lost, and powerless to find their way home. They had to depend on someone else's help and the grace of God to find their way home.

The whereabouts of hiker, James Nelson, is still unknown as rescue workers called off a four day search for him in the Holy Cross Wilderness near Vail Colorado. Nelson was an experienced hiker, hiking alone along 25-mile stretch of wilderness over 5 days. No one has heard from him since October 3rd and no trace was found of him on the nearby trails.

At the conclusion of the search for Nelson, his family, friends and fiancé stopped to look and reflect while on the deck at Vail's Adventure Ridge Tuesday, which overlooks the Holy Cross Wilderness where Nelson disappeared. You can only imagine the sense of loss and grief they must have felt in saying goodbye.

In contrast, the 33 miners were trapped underground, yet in community. For two months friends and family were able to shuttle notes back and forth to the miners, but there was no guarantee that the miners would be rescued and brought back alive. Where did they find their hope? I'm not sure I could have lived underground for two months.

I am told that on the backs of their jackets they had written a quote from Psalm 95:4, "In whose hand are the depths of the earth." They trusted that they were in the safety of God's hands despite their dire circumstances. What amazing faith!

Witnessing these events for some reason made me think of Luke 16:30, when Lazarus says to father Abraham, "If someone from the dead goes to them (my brothers), they will repent." What Lazarus means in this passage, I think, is that if someone who is resurrected from the dead bears witness to his five brothers, then they will repent and will not also be tormented in Hell as he is.

We may not all ever spend 2 months in a mine shaft, but we all have times when we are trapped in dark, desert-like situations where we can't see a way out. Christ is our hope. We know he has walked this road before us and has been resurrected so we hope in faith for that same resurrection.

The common thread it seems in the story of the 33 miners and of James Nelson is that they were all faithful Christians in desperate circumstances. As such, we can infer that their faith sustained them in their trails, but we can only imagine the anguish they felt at the time.

I pray in gratitude for the resurrection and new life that the miners and their families have received as a result of this experience. I pray that there lives and their faith can be a witness to others. And I pray James and his family that they are able to see God's guiding hand in their apparent loss. Amen.

What is Truth?

“For this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me,” said Jesus.” To which, Pontius Pilate asked, “What is truth?” (John 18:38). What is truth? The New Testament shows that Jesus came to testify to the truth that we are all beloved sons and daughters, to testify to the truth and reality of the social injustices going on in his time, and to testify to the truth of the freedom, healing, forgiveness, and mercy available to us if we choose to radically love our neighbors and God the Father as he did.

In his book, “Where is God?” John Sobrino says that if we hear and respond to the truth, it leads to a conversion. This is consistent with Jesus’ message of, “Those with ears to hear should hear (Mark 4:9)”. Jesus’ message and ministry were about conversion and transformation, not maintenance of the status quo. He was radical in the eyes of the people of his time. Sobrino notes that reality challenges us to see the truth (e.g. “with eyes to see”) of what’s going on in society and the world and react out of mercy.

Jesus’ call to conversion was a call for people to see the reality of what was going on in the world: the social injustices, economic injustices, cultural injustices, and political injustices. He told parables like the Good Samaritan that turned people’s expectations of cultural norms upside down, and he shared table fellowship with the outcast and downtrodden in his society. But why didn’t others see the world the way he saw it? Sobrino points out that the truth and how we see it is based on our cultural narrative and the group of people in power who are driving that cultural narrative in politics, society, and the media.

As Jesus experienced, blindness to truth often occurs because people are acting out of their head and not their heart. People in society both then and now are often trying to preserve their power, position, and possessions. In Roman times the poor, downtrodden, and widows had no status, and the Jews were captives in their own country. That was the cultural narrative the Romans and the Jewish leaders saw when they encountered Jesus. They saw him as dangerous because he was threatened to overthrow the current power structure.

Circling back to Jesus and Pilate’s original conversation in the praetorium, I would offer that that each of them was seeing different versions of the truth. Jesus’ vision of the truth was radical while Pilate’s was traditional (as defined by Peter Henriot). Pilate, as the authority holding power, defined (along with the Jewish leaders) what the “truth” was and were guilty of culpable blindness because they did not want to see the truth of “reality” that was right in front of them. Power was more important to them than truth.

In the words of Jack Nicholson from the movie, A Few Good Men, the Roman and Jewish leaders of the time, “couldn’t handle the truth,” that Jesus was talking about, and I think the same is true today. If the veil of injustice in our world was lifted tomorrow, our hearts would all break in sorrow for all of the poverty and suffering that exists.

A Slice of Life on the Red Line

It’s 8:30 AM the Friday before Labor Day weekend. Young and old, black and white get on the train at Jarvis. A black man wearing a business suit gets on at Morse. At Loyola there’s a white women with a stroller, and a black woman on her cell phone. A young girl texts a friend. A man in torn jeans calls but there is no answer. He’s holding a note pad and a large dictionary.

I also was holding a note pad that day. I observed who got on and who got off the Red Line at each stop from Howard to 95th Street and back again. It took about 3 hours all told. I saw the neighborhoods change as the passengers changed - - in dress, skin color, and temperment. I saw people moving in the world together, yet silently sitting in their own silent worlds while en route to their own private destinations. The only break in the library-like silence of the train was the occasional giggle of little children who didn’t know any better.

At Bryn Mawr a black boy waves to another passenger and makes them laugh. while other riders talk on the phone, text their friends, and listen to their iPods. At Berwyn, the boys’ mother holds her phone up to her son’s ear to have him join her conversation with a friend. When the child departs with his mother at Lawerence, he waves goodbye.

The diversity of the passengers is apparent at Lawerence as white, black and Hispanic board the train. At Jackson, the same diversity is visible amidst the sounds of a street performer who sings hip hop as the doors are closing. At Grand and Roosevelt, two Asian men board the train, and an Indian man boards at Garfield Park.

On the north side, passengers are largely white, wearing jeans or shorts. A girl sits next to me reading her eBook while holding a cup of coffee in her other hand. Several white men on the train choose to stand near the doors even though there are seats available.

On the south side, black passengers follow social norms that are less formal. Many nod off and sleep, some eat their breakfast, talk audibly on their cell phones, or put their feet up on a nearby seat while singing along with their MP3 player.
The racial divide on the morning train is obvious at Jackson, Monroe, and Chicago. Black men and women exit and white men and women get on. Also, white men exit at 35th street for the Sox game, and at the Addison stop for the Cub game.

No one boards the train at Granville and Argyle on the north side or 63rd, 69th, and 87th on the south side. At 79th street I realize for the first time that I am the only white person on the train car. For a moment I feel fearful. Then I smell pickles and see a woman behind me grab an onion ring from her Burger King sack and I realize I’m just part of the fabric of a diverse tapestry of people who ride the Red Line on the way to somewhere each day.

The Challenges of our Consumer Culture

Our consumer culture in America thrives each day because marketers and advertisers convince us that their product or service will fulfill a real or suggested need we have. Their pitch is that by buying this product or that, we will feel better, be happier, look younger, live longer, save time, save money, live better lives, or will simply differentiate ourselves from our neighbors. Do we buy stuff because we need it, because we want it, or because it makes us feel good? The answer is often one or more of the above.

John Kavanaugh, author of “Following Christ in a Consumer Society”, suggests that our consumer culture in America has become a method of self expression. Our buying behavior has become an expression of our thoughts, feelings, and even our identity. We see ourselves in the personae described in a specific brand. We buy the brand, and we become that brand or personae. We’re the Pepsi generation, who’s stuck on Band-Aid, is like Mike, and deserves a break today at McDonalds.

Meanwhile we do also have interior, spiritual lives that compete with the outside world to tell us who we really are. This voice doesn’t come from a radio or television ad, but from our Creator. In our consumer culture where our identities are often defined by what we wear, what we drive, and what we drink, our inner voice is often drowned out or simply ignored. We act on our feelings to buy goods and services each day, but we don’t feel safe expressing our interior feelings to friends, families, or to our community. Being reflective or contemplative doesn’t have a place in consumer culture unless it involves buying a bible, a self help book, or a yoga mat. There is no call or space in our culture to be quiet, vulnerable, and meek (as Jesus talks about in the Beatitudes). Instead we’re called to be busy, strong, and continuously gratified by external messages from movies, music, and smart phones.

The truth is, I believe, that marketers and advertisers have been more clever and successful at calling us to fulfill our interior desires with external stimuli than the Church has been at convincing us that the way to a fulfilling interior life is through prayer and reflection. In our culture very few people are proclaiming the benefits of a deep, peaceful prayer life and even fewer are listening. Why? I think our culture doesn’t know what to do with it. What are the outward fruits or benefits will I gain by spending/wasting time in prayer? Why would I want to spend an hour of quiet time reflecting on my mother or father wound and listening for the voice of a God I can’t see? What good is that going to do? It’s more productive to just grab a beer, watch a movie, and forget about it.

When we live in alignment with our consumer culture of keeping up with the Jones’, however, we are living a lie. We are not being the authentic selves God made us to be. Jesus says the Lord wants to take care of all of our day-to-day needs, “Do not worry about your life … look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more important than they? … So do not worry and say, “What are we to eat? Or What are we to wear? Your heavenly Father knows what you need … Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.” (Matthew 6:25- 34)

To cope with the disconnect with our interior lives that comes from our consumer culture, Roger Betsworth says in his book, “Social Ethics”, we often construct Cover Stories to help us find a sense of affirmation and safety. Real Story: “How can I work at McDonald’s during the day and read Martha’s Stewart’s “Living” at night, and still feel good about myself? Cover Story: Well, this job is only temporary until I finish school, so it’s okay for me to fantasize about what my first house might look like.” Cover Stories protect us from the truth and pain of who we really are.

In summary, you could say that in our society, consumerism is the Cover Story that most Americans buy into on a daily basis. First, consumerism is a part of the cultural narrative of how we Americans look at the world, and, second, it is part of the story we try to maintain everyday about our identities. “I am this type of person in our society because I can afford these things. It’s not really who I am, but I work every day to maintain this story and standard of living because people would reject me if I didn’t. I would never let people know how wounded and fearful a person I really am. Without all these possessions I would feel naked and alone.”