We should save the deathbed conversion scenes for the movies.  It is highly unlikely that, with tubes protruding from our nostrils, under the influence of a vast array of drugs, and surrounded by a team of medical professionals, we will have the wherewithal to finally and definitively commend our lives to the Lord.  All of this is possible but highly unlikely!  We can instead play the long game by rising from our beds each morning, allowing our knees to touch the ground, and saying with great confidence, “Jesus, I trust in you!”  As the day unfolds we can carve out time, in the bathroom at work, or on a hiking trail on the way back from school, or on the back porch before everyone gets home, to check in with the Lord, and then enjoy some quiet time with a religious icon, a chapter of our favorite gospel, a rosary, or an examen before going to bed.  Such a gradual path of conversion is not only more realistic but is sure to unlock the hidden spiritual juices that fuel our ongoing transformation.  We shall, indeed, spend a lifetime of handing over our spirit to the Lord as everywhere and everything becomes the blessed deathbed of our salvation (Lk 23:46).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Sometimes it’s a good idea to take the slow road.  To pay attention to the details.  To consider the deeper meanings of things.  To get out of the bubble.  To try something new.  To find our center.  To remember the big picture.  To relax.  To enjoy the journey.  To breathe deeply.  To smile.  To be open to the possibilities.  To release the past.  To listen to our desires.  To feel our feelings.  To savor the moment.  To trust the process.  To relinquish control.  To smell the flowers.  To take things one step at a time.  To live one day at a time.  To be patient with others.  To accept the things we cannot change.  To practice gratitude.  To be ourselves.  To laugh.  To cry.  To hope.  To dream.  To pray with a sincere heart.  To say what we mean and mean what we say.  To promote peace in the world.  To give and receive love.  To let grace abound.  To say “thank you.”  To be gentle and kind.  To just keep doing the next right thing.  To play.  To dance.  To quietly rejoice in everyday miracles.  To trust that all shall be well.  To believe that it’s all grace and has been all along.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Good for you!  Good night!  Good job!  We use the word “good” in a variety of ways throughout a given day.  Sometimes it’s just a throw-away word, “I’m doing pretty good,” while other times it’s purely utilitarian, “It’s not good for me!”  The Christian tradition, nevertheless, invites us to a more critical reflection: the Good Samaritan, for instance, takes a detour in order to help the man beaten up on the side of the road; the Good Shepherd lays down his life for his sheep; the Good News is preached unto martyrdom; Good Friday commemorates the suffering and death that bore our salvation; and, from the beginning, in the garden, knowledge of what is good is only ever paired with the weight of having to reject what is evil. The enduring good of this life is not some thing, a commodity, but rather a sacrificial action.  We must learn to go beyond the comfort of symbolic goods and take a spiritual risk on the one who is goodness itself (Mk 10:18).  In doing so, we shall taste and see the goodness of the Lord (Ps 34:8) and celebrate the fact that everything is actually good and has been so all along (Gen 1:31).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

To many people these days, worship seems like an outdated concept.  As religious beings, however, worship is inescapable.  We human persons are constantly burdened with the awful weight of having to decide what is worth most to us, the root meaning of wor(th)-ship.  If we go the postmodern route of claiming to worship nothing, we are definitely, albeit unconsciously, worshipping ourselves.  If we pridefully acknowledge objects of worship, even religious ones, that are not the eternal ground of being and infinite horizon, the living God, we immediately fall into idolatry.  The good news is that the Lord is patient with us and loves us and quietly draws us along the path of Jesus whose relationship with his heavnely Father was worth more than everything else in his life.  We shall thus learn the art of worshipping well as we gaze with grateful hearts upon the stars of night, as tears stream down our faces in an unexpected and humble moment of reconciliation, and as blood courses through our veins at the sight of an injustice.  In this way, the Lord will emerge as the meaning of everything, and the act of worship will be synonymous with our authentic human living.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.