Brutally Honest

“I don’t believe in miracles, but in your case, I may have to rethink that.”

Via Fr. Longenecker, a story of faith and the miraculous:

Mr. Clyde King, the steady sacristan at my parish here in northern California approached me one day after Mass last year, asking if perhaps I could fill in for him for about ten days. He might be going out of town, though this was not yet assured; he wanted to line someone up, with plenty of notice, just in case. 

He was planning, or rather hoping, to go to Lourdes; he has been battling melanoma since 2009. He had had one surgery to remove a tumor from his left temple, and another one in late 2010 to remove three more tumors just beneath his jaw line.  Aside from that procedure, which excised a portion of his neck along with the cancer, no one would have any reason to suspect he’d had a brush with a life-threatening illness. He looked sturdy and walked strong. His vigor was such that I was surprised to learn he was over sixty-five. And for the moment, all the melanoma had been removed. 

Still, he put in an application to join an annual pilgrimage sponsored by the Knights of Malta, who take malades – pilgrims who are sick enough to qualify but well enough to travel. Not every applicant, of course, can be accommodated, and he was put on the waiting list. He responded with equanimity, saying simply that Mary will decide who ends up going.

Soon afterwards, the radiologist called and somberly informed him that a routine follow up PET scan revealed the presence of yet another and severe (stage 4 melanoma) tumor – this time in his chest, on the right side of his windpipe. Both surgery and treatment would be required.  

With no knowledge of that dispiriting medical development, the pilgrimage organizers then notified him – approximately a week before the pilgrimage to Lourdes was set to begin – that a space had opened up. It was time to pack.

So off he went – hopefully, yet calmly disposed to accept the eventual outcome. He participated in all the usual activities in Lourdes, including Masses and immersion in the baths. He was fully committed to the spirit of the pilgrimage, but to be frank, wasn’t quite comfortable with the protocol of having to remain in a cart while going from point A to point B, since he was quite capable of walking on his own.  

He submitted to all that the itinerary entailed, however, and used later moments of free time to walk the stations of the cross on the hill above town, or return to the Grotto in the quiet of the evening.  

While he was in Lourdes, his doctor – quite concerned about the results of yet another test taken just before he left – contacted his wife in order to set up a new appointment as soon as possible. He was set to return on a Wednesday. So without her husband’s knowledge, she scheduled an appointment for Thursday. More tests were taken that day.

The results came back the following Monday – and the doctor was utterly nonplussed to discover that all signs of the melanoma had disappeared. His regular oncologist would later tell him:  “I don’t believe in miracles, but in your case, I may have to rethink that.”

There's more and it's awe inspiring and hope-filled.

Our Lady of Lourdes, turn to your Son Jesus on behalf of my wife and ask Him, as I do, to heal her and to embrace her fully with His loving presence, granting her hope, assurance, comfort and peace.

A window to The Divine

I don't know who said it and I trust that one of you will be able to tell me but I think it true, there is music that opens a window to The Divine and right now where I'm sitting, I need that window open wide.

Beautifully done. Thank you Gerard.

Breast cancer sucks, life does not

Not long ago, I wrote:

I've been thinking about something of late, thinking likely prompted by my advancing years...

I'd like to know why the Good Lord created me.  And I'd like to know if I'm on the path necessary to fulfill that why once answered.  Being the cynic that I am and too often too hard on myself, I'm thinking I'm not even close.

So the one thing I'd like for Christmas is a neon sign engraved by the hand of God telling me my purpose in life...

A second gift, as important to me, would be knowing that I've been used by God to actually direct my sons, and influence my wife, in fulfilling their own purposes...

Not wanting much am I? 

As regular readers are aware, on Monday we received word that my beloved bride has breast cancer.  We continue to process what it all means and what it is we're facing.  The unknown still so much larger than the known.

But there is something I think I'm becoming clearer about as each day passes.

I now have purpose.  I now have a mission.  It's one I accept with lots of fear and anxiety but with more resoluteness and determination.

I will help my wife through this.  I will do what is necessary to carry her through to victory over this dreaded disease.  She will defeat it and I will do all in my power to help her do so.

And we will not be alone.  

Your prayers that we so covet will carry us.  God's presence and His power will sustain us.

Yes, two months ago nearly to the day, I sought clarity in purpose.  

Today, I can't think of anything that is clearer.

Lord, empty me of me, fill me with You, show me how to fulfill this purpose.  

Amen.

"We must not be afraid to entrust him with the burden we are carrying"

Pope Benedict speaks to those facing tough times:

The cry of Christ on the cross should remind everyone that God always hears their prayers, even when he seems distant, Pope Benedict XVI said Feb. 8.

“Let us bring to God our daily crosses, in the certainty that he is present and listens to us,” he said at the Wednesday general audience, held with several thousand people in Paul VI Hall.

Pope Benedict made his remarks as part of his ongoing series of weekly reflections on prayer. Today he focused on the prayerful cry of Jesus Christ during his final agony on the cross on Good Friday – “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

“This cry comes after a three-hour period when there was darkness over the whole land,” noted the Pope, dwelling upon the accounts given in the Gospels of Sts. Mark and Matthew.

“Darkness is an ambivalent symbol in the Bible – while it is frequently a sign of the power of evil, it can also serve to express a mysterious divine presence,” he said.

“Just as Moses was covered in the dark cloud when God appeared to him on the mountain, so Jesus on Calvary is wrapped in darkness.”

So “what is the meaning of Jesus’ prayer?” asked the Pope.

He replied, “the words Jesus addresses to the Father are the beginning of Psalm 22, in which the psalmist expresses the tension between, on the one hand, being left alone and, on the other, the certain knowledge of God’s presence amongst his people.”

The psalmist, he explained, “speaks of a ‘cry’ to express all the suffering of his prayer before the apparently absent God. At moments of anguish prayer becomes a cry.”

Pope Benedict said that the same thing should also happen “in our own relationship with the Lord.” When people are faced with “difficult and painful situations, when it seems that God does not hear, we must not be afraid to entrust him with the burden we are carrying in our hearts, we must not be afraid to cry out to him in our suffering.”

The Pope pointed to Christ on the cross, who “at the moment of ultimate rejection by man, at the moment of abandonment,” is still “aware that God the Father is present even at the instant in which he is experiencing the human drama of death.”

But even if people are convinced of God’s presence, a question still remains in many hearts, the Pope said. “How is it possible that such a powerful God does not intervene to save his Son from this terrible trial?”

He replied that it is important to understand that “the prayer of Jesus is not the cry of a person who meets death with desperation, nor that of a person who knows he has been abandoned.”

Instead, by appropriating Psalm 22 to himself – the psalm of the suffering people of Israel – Jesus “takes upon himself not only the suffering of his people, but also that of all men and women oppressed by evil.”

He subsequently takes that “to the heart of God in the certainty that his cry will be heard in the resurrection,” so that “his is a suffering in communion with us and for us, it derives from love and carries within itself redemption and the victory of love.”

Therefore, just as “the people at the foot of Jesus’ cross were unable to understand” his cry, so “we likewise find ourselves, ever and anew, facing the ‘today’ of suffering, the silence of God,” the Pope said. But we also “find ourselves facing the ‘today’ of the resurrection, of the response of God who took our sufferings upon himself, to carry them with us and give us the certain hope that they will be overcome.”

Pope Benedict explained that the “prayer of the dying Jesus teaches us to pray with confidence for all our brothers and sisters who are suffering, that they too may know the love of God who never abandons them.”

Father, let your love reign, especially in the hearts of those facing darkness.

Ductal carcinoma (UPDATED)

Not the words you want to hear.

Especially not the words you want to hear when the person talking is directing those words at someone who's been the love of your life for more than 30 years.

Today, she and I heard those words and many more, most of them foreign, many of them frightening.

There are lots of things going through my mind tonight and most of them I'll not share, not just yet.  What I will do is ask for two specific prayers from those of you who pray regularly (and hell, even from those who don't).

I ask that you pray for my bride's well being most obviously, physical particularly but also spiritual.  And I ask that you pray I'll be the husband that she needs in the coming days, weeks and months.

We're told that we've caught this early.  We're told that beating it is more than just possible, that it's even likely.  We're also told that there's more to know and that the hope is we'll know more about what we don't know in the next few days, all of which will aid in determining how best to fight it.

And fight it we will, with every fibre of our being.

Thank you for your prayers.

UPDATE: From my youngest son's Facebook page to his mom's heart... and my own:

All i kept thinking was "please say negative, please say negative" as we waited for the doctor to return. We passed the time with nervous laughter, huddled in a small room, together, as a family. Never had 10 minutes felt so long, as each second ticked by with what felt like an eternity. Finally the doctor entered the room, hesitantly, as he noticed the army of supporters waiting to hear the results.

"Let's get right to it," he said, looking Mom in the eye,"The biopsy came back positive for Ductal Carcinoma." Shock, anger, disbelief: all of these words describe the terrible feeling that started in my head and slowly seeped through the rest of my body. I glanced over at my brother. All color had left his face, and it held the same look of disbelief. I couldn't even look at Dad. I didn't have to. I already knew what he was feeling, and i couldn't bear to see the most influential man in my life at his weakest moment.

Mom was stoic through it all, not flinching one time. She maintained the strength that I couldn't. The most important woman in my life was just told she had cancer, and she didn't look scared, not even for a second. You know why? Because she's strong. She's courageous. She's a fighter, and she knows she can beat this. She knows WE can beat this. We WILL beat it, and when all is said and done, it will just strengthen the already unbreakable bond that i call my family.

I love you Mom, we're all right here by your side.

When should you not mind being flipped off?

When Glenn Reynolds is flippin' an Instabirdie:

No road rage after that flip. Just gratitude.

Thanks again Glenn.

Can you love coffee but hate the coffee bean? (UPDATED)

Can you love toothpaste but hate the toothpaste tube?  How about loving your HDTV but hating 1080p?   Or loving light while hating electricity?

Those are the questions that come to mind as I attempt to understand the mindset put forth by a young man named Jefferson Bethke who actually says a lot of good things in what follows but who also says more than his share of things that fall well short of the mark.

Mr. Bethke's video has garnered over 11 million views since being posted less than a week ago and it's the talk of the religious blogosphere.  I was surprised to hear Father Mike mention it during the homily this morning.

I first saw it when my young nephew Zach posted it on his Facebook wall, a posting that garnered quite a number of Likes.  I myself like good portions of it.  But other parts are simply... well... shallowly expressed.  I felt the need to convey something to that effect to Zach, a rising high school baseball star who has an excellent shot at playing college ball, and so I left the following reply on his wall:

Love this Zach... seriously good stuff... I liken the poet to [a] pitcher I know... he throws lots of strikes, his heart is in the game and he knows a thing or two about pitching... if there's one beef I have with it, is this one idea that he hates religion but loves Christ... it's a little like the pitcher I know who loves to pitch but hates the strike zone... doesn't compute from over my way... without that strike zone, the pitcher can't pitch, without that strike zone, the pitcher can't engage the game he loves so much from his heart... the strike zone makes the pitcher... and religion is what brought us Christ... and if I can take this a bit further (and haven't lost you yet), where would this pitcher be without good coaching? Where would this pitcher be if someone hadn't taught him the game? The coaches and the rules that make up the game of baseball... they're essential... without coaching, without a set of rules, there is no game and that pitcher again can't engage the love of his heart... our apostolic faith, taught us over the ages first by Christ's disciples and then the apostles they appointed, are essential to our understanding of who Christ is... so baseball absent a strike zone, coaches and the rules that make up the game is what? It's whatever someone decides to make it... and how much fun would that game be? Religion, and particularly and especially our Catholic faith, brought us Christ... and without religion, Christ would be whatever someone decided Christ ought to be... Yea, I love what your poet has to say... the dude threw some wicked and much needed strikes... but hating religion means he's stuck in triple A ball... the only way he's going to make it the show, is to embrace religion and in my less than humble view, that's embrace our Catholic faith... love you man... and I'm confident that you're well on your way to the show. 

Zach did Like that in response but we've not had a chance to talk about it further... and frankly, probably won't.  We don't typically have these kinds of conversations.

But conversations are being had by others as a result of Jefferson's video and I see that as a very good thing.  

Father Mike was quick to trumpet that though there were good things to see, there were bad things that needed countering and he took the time to mention the counter of wisdom put together by a young man who attends our Church.  Ryan's a freshman at college, a young man I've seen but not met, and his video response follows.  It may not be as stylish as Mr. Bethke's offering, it may not have the production value, but I'm of the belief that it more than makes up for those shortcomings with substance:

Job well done.

Ryan lists in his notes at YouTube two links I assume were inspiring to him as he put this together.  One is to Marc Barnes piece at Bad Catholic, seriously insightful and filled with wisdom, and the other to a video posted at MakeAFriar.Com.

Others posting on this who are in my blogroll include:

St. Blogustine

Frank Weathers

Brandon Vogt at Thin Veil

The Anchoress

UPDATE: Anya in the comments liked this one... and I do too:

"Faith is not the resignation of reason"

The culture desires our embrace of faith to be that which is dependent upon our pushing away notions of reason.

Pope Benedict XVI is, as you might expect, countering that perspective:

Faith is not the resignation of reason in view of the limits of our knowledge; it is not a retreat into the irrational in view of the dangers of a merely instrumental reason. Faith is not the expression of weariness and flight but is courage to exist and an awakening to the greatness and breadth of what is real.

Faith is an act of affirmation; it is based on the power of a new Yes, which becomes possible for man when he is touched by God. It seems to me important, precisely amid the rising resentment against technical rationality, to emphasize clearly the essential reasonableness of faith. In a criticism of the modern period, which has long been going on, one must not reproach its confidence in reason as such, but only the narrowing of the concept of reason, which has opened the door to irrational ideologies. The mysterium, as faith sees it, is not the irrational but rather the uttermost depths of the divine reason, which our weak eyes are no longer able to penetrate. It is the creative reason, the power of the divine knowledge that imparts meaning. It is only from this beginning that one can correctly understand the mystery of Christ, in which reason can then be seen to be the same as love.

That from The Anchoress naturally and she includes an additional paragraph so please go and read the rest.

Too many of us are quick to fall back on this notion that what we believe as Christians is blindly believed, that it just is, that our beliefs are arrived at by faith and so there's no rational explanation for them.

It's a huge mistake.

I want to arrive at a place where I can counter that which goes against my core beliefs from a perspective of reason, of critical thinking, of what ought to be clearly seen as rational thought, not because it makes me look better or smarter but because it might be the impetus by which someone else embraces the faith.

I think that place exists within the boundaries of Catholicism.

I want to find and live in that place.

Lord help me get there.

“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown”

“And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:

“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”

And he replied:
“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”

So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night....”

To my loyal reader and those who drive by, let's trod gladly into the night this next year together, finding the Hand of God anew or clinging to Him already found.

Thanks to all of you.

God's blessings and peace from the Brutally Honest household to yours.

Happy New Year!

With thanks to Rocco Palmer for the poetic reference.

All I want for Christmas is... a third eye that sees

I'm wearing reading glasses more regularly these days.  A necessity given the declining state of my eyes.  It's been going on now for some years and I guess it's the inevitable consequence of age.  Oddly enough, my right eye is weaker than my left so it's a bit of a challenge in getting functional glasses but they're out there and they work great.

It's my third eye however that I should pay much more attention to.  Joe at Two Catholic Men and a Blog explains:

Anyone, animals included, use the first and the second eyes to see with.  The first is simple data gathering.  There is a wall there.  There is light coming in through the cracks in the wall.  The second eye reasons.  The wall is old and must be broken to be letting in the light.  The third eye however is used only by humans.  We go beyond reason just as reason goes beyond data gathering.  The third eye will look at the same crack in the wall and see along it.  It will see the hole reveals a world outside.  That the light is coming from the sun (which cannot be seen directly via the crack) and that it indicates a way out of the room.  There is more here than what meets the eye.

This third eye is how the heart sees.  It is also referred to as seeing by faith.  Animals do not understand a book, for example.  The dog sees the page.  It sees the markings on the page.  However it does not understand that the markings point beyond themselves to concepts beyond the print.  Only human beings can make the leap from a thing to what that thing symbolizes, to what it points to.

To a materialist, science is the limit of what can be seen.  The second eye, while very powerful for understanding and connecting the physical universe, is not sufficient to understand what cannot be seen by it.  To a materialist, a marriage is a simple pair bonding wholly explained by physical interactions, hormones and mutual advantage.  There is no more because the second eye can see no more.  On the other hand, the third eye can see that a marriage points to something beyond itself.  It is a sign of the love of God in the Trinity.  It understands that a man and a woman are created to be united as one in marriage, expressed in part by the physical, but the ultimate meaning of the marriage dwarfs the mere physical.

Good stuff.  Joe's blogging partner Ben goes a little deeper on his own related post:

We all have a secular eye and a spiritual eye. Many Catholics end up with a weak spiritual eye because they don’t know or exercise their faith.

What happens if we have one weak eye? There is lack of focus; we cannot see reality clearly. This can explain how those who are highly educated in secular things can lack spiritual common sense. We can even be educated out of our faith as the secular eye gets stronger and stronger, while the spiritual eye is ignored and grows weaker and weaker (no exercise).

Once we find that reality seems unclear, what can we do? We can either exercise the weak eye and build its strength or close it entirely and forget it. Too many Catholics opt to close the weak eye because this is the easiest way to maintain focus, the path of least resistance, the wide road. 

Ben goes on to suggest a New Year's resolution geared toward strengthening the spiritual eye.

Amen.  

Hearten to it people.