What does it mean to take the longview?  Pop psychologists and armchair mystics will say that it means “to not sweat the small stuff” or “to live in the moment.”  While such advice can be appealing in a fast-paced modern society, it will cause us to simply bulldoze our way through life in a perpetual cycle of denial and indulgence.  To take the longview must mean something deeper, namely, to see all the way to the end of things, not despite, but precisely through the things themselves.  These flowers, sitting here on my kitchen table, signify the miracle of beauty.  This daily task of washing the dishes reminds me of my creatureliness and the gift of life.  Even the pressure and stress of my workplace point to the human vocation to conversion and transcendence.  Let’s turn to Jesus, who is, in fact, the end of all things (Jn 19:30, Rev 22:13).  Let’s learn to be attentive to Jesus in all that we say, think and do (Lk 8:21).  Let’s take the longview with Jesus and never look back (Lk 9:62).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

The key to encountering resurrected life is simply doing the next right thing.  The anointed one had not laid waste to his enemies, nor had he restored the glory of former days.  In fact, he apparently could not even save himself.  Nevertheless, the women gathered spices and went to his tomb anyway.  They did not get stuck in their grief or paralyzed by fear because of their willingness to approach and in fact anoint the darkness – it was simply the next right thing. During this season of resurrection, let’s refuse to wallow in our own suffering or be victimized by another’s.  Let’s dig deep and make a habit of doing the next right thing.  We shall discover, like the women, that resurrected life is our constant vocation and destiny.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica!

The word “resentment” literally means to feel something again and again and again.  This emotional merry-go-round has a negative connotation and can consume us in an instant.  Perhaps we feel resentful toward a family member who received a greater share of the inheritance, or a business partner who made a deal behind our backs, or the person who carelessly cut us off in traffic.  Whatever the case may be, we need to find a way to exit this suffocating pattern of anger and pain before we lose ourselves!  When we look within, we will discover that we are scared of being vulnerable and that we simply clasp onto negative emotions because they give us a sense of control.  As time goes on, however, we can gradually surrender this compulsive behavior and begin to trust at that deep level of the spirit.  Our beloved will eventually appear, and we will know what it’s like to feel loved again and again and again and forever (Song 3:4). 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

“Whose feet will you wash?”  This was the stinging question that a bishop posed to hermits scattered across the countryside in his diocese.  They explained that they were doing battle with the devil by day and having mystical visions by night, but despite their obvious passion and religious fervor, these men seemed to be missing the mark in the Christian life.  The bishop eventually gathered them into monastic communities where they could experience the weight of other people in real time and thus grow closer to the Lord.  It can be easy to rationalize a modern hermetic lifestyle where our status, finances, personality, geography, or piety have us living at a distance from everyone else, yet such untouchableness means that our hearts shrivel and our spiritual lives atrophy along the slow path of death-by-hallucination.  Let’s therefore have the courage this Lenten season to be like Jesus by living close to and with and for other people. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

I once heard of a woman who was found throwing handfuls of dirt and mulch at a statue of Mary in the courtyard of a Catholic hospital.  Someone called security, and as the guard was on his way over to confront her, he happened upon one of the chaplains who escorted him to the scene.  When they entered the courtyard and saw for themselves what was going on – now she was yelling at the statue – the chaplain stopped the guard from approaching, explaining, “She’s not vandalizing the property, she’s praying!”  Would that my own prayer might be so authentic!  Would that instead of sitting complacently in the system of hideouts I have developed in my head, I might actually have the courage to honestly share my feelings with the Lord!  Would that I might trust that much!  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

What is the white whale in my life?  Perhaps it’s a high profile job, or the perfect family, or a certain social status, or any number of alluring objects.  Whatever it happens to be, my name is Ahab, and I spend my days chasing after this thing!  My western mind, like his, has lost its capacity to encounter reality and instead sits passively atop my shoulders as a big blank screen onto which any fear or insecurity might be projected.  Let’s make the decision to exit this pattern of obsession by finally getting to the root of our problems.  In doing so, we shall discover how to live outside of ourselves, on firm existential footing, in communion with other people.  We shall stand with Jesus as “fishers of men” (Mt 4:19), and our inner white whale shall be clothed with many rich and authentic colors (Gen 37:3).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Let’s walk a labyrinth during Lent!  This meditative path is not a maze.  We don’t need to figure anything out, or struggle to read clues, or feel lost in a mirror of confusion.  Rather, a labyrinth is designed for our benefit, a flowing pattern with a clear beginning and a clear end point with lots of mystery in between.  The only choice for one who walks a labyrinth is simply whether to move forward or not.  This journey trains us to trust: while we may have a very clear idea of the destination, the way there seems to constantly take us away from our goal and thus challenges us to put one foot in front of the other and be open to the possibilities.  Such a surprise orientation to life will draw us more closely to the empty tomb where we shall be overcome with the emotion of his resurrection.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Let’s share some herbal tea with the Lord this Lenten season.  We can choose a quiet time of day, a cozy nook of our home, a familiar mug, and a fresh blend.  This ritual of making tea can be a soothing balm for our weary souls.  There is no caloric benefit, no caffeine hit, no moment of having our thirst quenched, but only the stability of however long it takes to enjoy a hot cup of tea.  In this spiritual window, the Lord will visit us and speak to us in peppermint and chamomile and hibiscus and cinnamon.  We shall breathe deeply, smile widely and become an ambassador of warmth and calm to others.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Walking out of work the other day, in a hurry, and Jesus stopped me.  He said, “My friend, my car won’t start, I’m scared and don’t know what to do!”  Of course, my response was predictable.  First, an empathetic statement:  “So sorry, that must be very stressful for you!”  Then, practical advice: “If you have jumper cables, you can just ask somebody to pull up next to you and follow the directions on the instruction sheet.”  And then, the clean break: “On my way to an appointment, I’m being interviewed about my ministry today!  Good luck!”  Jesus did not flinch, he was not fazed by the irony, he just kept looking at me.  Finally, honesty: “Where are you parked?  It’s no problem, it will only take a few minutes.”  May my constant need to be given over to others in service be paired with the graced awareness that Jesus is constantly calling out to me in the poverty of a world that is still in formation.  May my Lent be an occasion to see Jesus and rejoice.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Do I really love my enemies?  There’s that person who was overheard criticizing me in the locker room, the one who overcharged me for an oil change, the one who made an uncharitable comment about my haircut, the one who wouldn’t let me merge into traffic, the one who cut me off mid-sentence, the one who literally punched me during an altercation, the one who kept coughing next to me on the airplane, the one who canceled our dinner plans at the last minute, and the one who lied to my face.  While it is natural to need some space from the other person while we mend our wounds, Jesus does not want us to be satisfied with a lukewarm life of distance.  He invites us, instead, to become willing to stoop down and wash the feet of the very person who has betrayed us.  Our vulnerability in this moment will not only challenge us to trust the living God in a deeply personal way, but will meet our so-called enemies at that place of their brokenness where they are actually desperate for friendship.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

O ground of being, who dwells within us, steadfast is your name.  Your grace prevails in daily life as your will endures forever.  Feed us this day your words of truth, and forgive us for running from you as we forgive those who run into us.  Lead us away from all confusion, and deliver us from lukewarmness.  Amen.

HAPPY FEAST OF BLESSED BASIL MOREAU!

Root words and stems are fascinating ways to explore the depths of our human identity.  While we may think, for instance, that sober means “a person who doesn’t drink,” the etymology reveals something more spiritual, “on one’s own,” inviting the dignity of living from a place of authenticity and existential trust.  The word think actually comes from “to thank,” suggesting that the mind is more than a self-contained system of drama, but rather an altar upon which our memories and ideas might be offered to others in gratitude.  An abstract word such as truth can surprisingly be traced back to something quite concrete, “tree,” which is to say that we encounter reality in the deeply-rooted and close-at-hand.  Let’s therefore be dissatisfied with flimsy meanings at the surface and actually process the words we hear and use.  We will discover that at the heart of our human experience is a primordial pattern of speaking and listening with the Word who is the definitive meaning of our lives.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Warren, Ohio is an insignificant town on the banks of the Mahoning River.  This historic capital of the Connecticut Western Reserve once boasted of an elegant town square and a thriving economy, but is now dominated by abandoned factories and unsavory characters.  This is my home, the place where providence has planted my feet and called my hands forth into service to my sisters and brothers.  When the big cities capture my imagination with their towering skylines and breaking news stories – how my heart surges! – my hand reaches down and touches the earth, and I remember that this is where my body is supposed to be.  There will be a day when Warren, Ohio ceases to appear on maps and her city limits collapse into some new entity, but my soul will always rejoice in the weight of her geography and her constant invitation to become more human.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

“Just keep swimming” is profound spiritual advice from an unassuming blue fish.  The real issue in the life of the human person, indeed, is not getting beaten up, but getting stuck.  It all begins with that false voice that says we’re not good enough (Gen 3:5):  our hearts become dull and drowsy (Ps 119:70), and our lives gradually grind to a halt.  To move FORWARD, even if we do not know exactly where we are going, is an act of trust.  Such a decision, in fact, evidences a primal faith that cuts deeper than all the dogmatism and pietism in the world.  Praise the Lord for the revelation of motion as the essence of life (Ex 3:14).  Praise the Lord for the seasons of life when we bravely wander in circles.  Praise the Lord for the deep waters that invite us to swim with purpose for all eternity (Lk 5:4).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Self-care is an excellent new year’s resolution.  Such a commitment might mean a bubble bath, sitting down to a banana split, or sleeping in, but there are of course deeper implications.  When I stay up a few extra minutes before going to bed to do the dishes, even though it will probably cause me more drowsiness in the short term, aren’t I being of service to my future self who will rejoice in having more time in the morning?  When I make the decision to divert income to my retirement plan, instead of spending it on luxury items, aren’t I making a sacrifice for my future self?  And don’t even get me started on making the effort to shop for and prepare healthy foods in order to nourish my future self!  In this new year, let’s ask for the grace to detach from ourselves and practice self-care at the quantum level.  In doing so, we shall learn that caring for our future selves is the most primal and consistent way we can respond to the call to love (Mk 12:29-31).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

When I was sixteen years old my grandmother got me an Indiana Pacers sweatshirt for Christmas.  It was so random!  Not only was this an unpopular basketball team, but the style was super outdated and reflected one of the discount stores where she liked to shop.  Nevertheless, even to this day, as I think about untying the ribbon, removing the gift wrap, opening the box, and folding back the tissue paper, my heart inexplicably wells up with gratitude.  Perhaps it’s because my grandmother wasn’t actually giving me a sweatshirt for Christmas, but was instead giving me her time, her intention, her affection, her very self through this article of clothing.  Let’s have the courage to see the giver in the various gifts that get exchanged at our holiday parties this year.  Let’s, in fact, make the whole Christmas season an occasion to contemplate the eternal giver who is constantly gracing us with the gift of life.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.  

Merry Christmas!

Bathrooms are places of privacy that offer unique opportunities for reflection and insight.  A stall, for instance, can serve as a refuge from the pressures of the workplace.  The single user restroom can be an oasis for someone who needs a moment to cry or think things through.  Even in a household, where all other spaces are held in common, the bathroom is set apart and can thus function as a domestic chapel.  Because it is where we do our business, in fact, the bathroom is the perfect venue to tend to our spiritual lives and sort through our interior business!  The next time, therefore, we lament that we do not have a proper sanctuary for prayer, let’s go to our literal inner room, close the door and spend time with our heavenly father who both made us and speaks to us in secret (Ps 137:15, Mt 6:6).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Christ Speaks:  Listen to my word.  Trust my way.  Walk with me.  You are precious in my sight.  You are the apple of my eye.  You are constantly on my mind.  We experience the same rejections and setbacks together.  We suffer under the same burdens of life together.  We endure the same daily monotonies together.  Let’s therefore be firmly rooted in the common ground of being together.  Let’s be situated in the infinite ocean of mercy together.  Let’s be open to the glorious risk of communion together.  The universe will be drawn up into this drama.  The cosmos will be resurrected.  The garden will be rediscovered.  Listen to my word. Trust my way. Walk with me. We shall renew the face of the earth together. Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

No!  No!  No!  No!  No!  No!  No!  No to falsehood!  No to dishonesty!  No to complacency!  No to self-indulgence!  No to fear!  No to cowardice!  No to hatred!  No to lukewarmness!  No to intimidation!  No to deception!  No to lust!  No to arrogance!  No to greed!  No to the voice that says “You can’t do it.”  No to “You’re not good enough.”  No to invasive ideas that plague our minds.  No to the temptation to run from our pain.  No to addiction.  No to ignorance.  No to shame.  May the grace of this glorious no touch our hearts and take root in our souls.  May this no serve as a starting point for a future filled with possibilities. May this habit of no be a ministry to ourselves, and may we be born anew. Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

The amygdala is that tiny almond-shaped part of the brain that packs a powerful punch.  This emotion-processing center is set deeply in the recesses of our gray matter, beneath the senses, beneath the imagination, and even beneath our memories.  The amygdala is the threshing floor and altar, the place where time converges and meaning is made.  It is the dark room and the inner chamber, the sanctuary and the butcher’s block.  When we pray seriously or discern sincerely or examine our consciences, we are exercising our amygdalas and practicing life as an emotional creature.  The result of such intense psychological processing is the spirit.  Indeed, by analyzing the various movements of our lives – the literal meaning of “emotion” – we will discover again and again that the spirit is behind all activity, and that all of our experiences only ever mean something ultimate.  Let’s therefore get comfortable hanging out in the almond orchard of our souls and in so doing meet our beloved (Song 6:11-12).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

“To give thanks” is the antidote to all of our problems.  Whether we feel wounded, confused, resentful, angry, fearful, unhappy, dissatisfied, full of self-pity, or simply tired of the monotony of our days, there is hope in the posture of gratitude.  That slow and trusting turn towards the direction of life, that graced encounter with reality, the risk of openness to mystery, and the vulnerability of reception cannot but serve as the seed of our inner transformation and existential realignment.  Let’s therefore spend this week exercising our gratitude muscle by literally saying “thank you” in prayer and “thank you” to the members of our household and “thank you” to that person who gives us preference in the grocery line or in traffic.  Let’s not forget, however, to also say “thank you” for the unexpected flat tire, “thank you” for the burnt dinner, “thank you” for the seasonal flu, and “thank you” for the snarky comment at work.  Such a “thank you” discipline will deliver us from a complacent and lukewarm way of life and gradually draw us into the arms of the eternal giver who only ever says “thank you” with us. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

If the spiritual life had a bumper sticker, it would say, “Stay Tuned.”  How easy it is, indeed, to fall into the delusion of thinking that we have figured things out for good, that we have arrived at our ultimate destination, that we have finally found the solution!  Yet, such impulsive, left-brained dopamine hits only reveal our deep insecurity, lack of openness, and unwillingness to live in mystery.  In a tragic way, we become self-contained and suffocate in the stuffiness of our fear-based way of thinking.  Let’s therefore sit or kneel or clasp our hands or take a deep breath in prayer.  Let’s practice discerning between a truth of our lives and living a life of truth.  Let’s have the courage to not only hear the words that our beloved speaks to us, but to keep listening to those words as we are gradually drawn into eternal life.  Let’s stay tuned with a trusting heart.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

In the drama of the human mind there always seems to be a scapegoat (Lev 16:18-22).  My computer doesn’t work and immediately my anger gets directed toward the tech guy; my bus is running late and my resentment against the driver grows by the second; my keys have somehow disappeared and my mind instantly goes to the kid wearing the hoodie; and how often have I scapegoated myself when experiencing one of life’s many disappointments!  The good news is that a beloved friend dwells within us and offers to be the ending point for all of this negative emotional activity (Jn 19:30).  This one stands at the doorway of the soul and will catch all of the blame and condemnation before it consumes us (Jn 10:9,11).  On the other side of this sheer grace, we will see that the many goats we had instrumentalized for the appeasement of our anxieties over the years are actually our sisters and brothers.  Ours is simply to release them from whatever psychological altar we have tied them to and walk with them into a future full of hope (Ps 119:32).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

“Don’t Tread on Me!” is a slogan that has become very popular in our modern political landscape.  It suggests a certain defensive posture that may truly be appropriate when applied to the evil one, but misses the mark when it comes to human relationships.  Instead of putting up the proverbial wall, we could start experimenting with the following phrases:  “Thanks for sharing your opinion” or “I need some time to think about that” or “You might be right” or “Let’s talk that through more some time” or “Help me understand where you’re coming from” or “Now we know where we stand with one another.”  Such responses serve as a welcome balm and a healing touch for ragged souls desperate for an interruption to the cycle of raw reactionary living.  Indeed, in choosing our words carefully and practicing patience, we will invite our sisters and brothers to tread with us in a common direction that leads to life. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Let’s pretend that the ego is a marble slab that sits on the lofty throne of the mind.  As long as our lives are lukewarm and complacent, not moving in the forward direction, things just get piled up on it: ideas, relationships, worries, fears, memories, etc.  Pretty soon that slab is buried and we not only become hidden from others, but, tragically, from ourselves as well.  Nevertheless, there is good news: we can choose, starting today, right here and now, to take that first step in the forward direction, and when we do, the circumstances of our lives, through which we journey, will begin to clear all of that junk off of that marble slab, and the slab itself will begin to take on new contours as it is shaped by contact with the other.  Let’s, therefore, be open to the risk of new encounters that will allow our true beauty to be revealed.  Ave Crux, Spes Uncia.

Let’s get comfortable with transcendence.  That glorious risk of going beyond ourselves.  That courageous decision to cross the line of safety and security into the unknown.  The certainty camp gets old fast as we drown in predictability.  The chaos camp makes us equally wary as we wallow in feelings of inadequacy.  The way of transcendence, however, allows us to choose mystery out of a constant baseline of order.  We set goals, work hard, and pursue our dreams not because those things satisfy, but because they reveal our limits to us, and in so doing, invite us into a life of grace.  Such a way of being cannot but put us in touch with our true humanity and eternity at one and the same time.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

“Fight or flight” instincts are deeply ingrained in our human psyches.  When faced with a threat, our first impulse is to either eliminate or escape from the perceived enemy.  Perhaps we have lashed out when we feel personally attacked by a colleague or family member, or maybe we have gone silent in a texting thread or email correspondence when a friendship no longer feels safe.  Whatever the case may be, the good news is that we do not have to be enslaved to such a bipolar way of life.  We can decide today to follow the narrow way (Mt 7:14) that holds these two instincts in tension long enough and tightly enough to produce some new way of being.  We will discover that we are capable of confrontations that establish the boundaries necessary for relationships and at the same time soul-searching that establishes a constant interior sanctuary.  In this way, our true animal nature will emerge as women and men who live by the new motto of “connection and perfection.”   Ave Crux, Spes Unica!

O blessed rock-bottom!  How I long to stand on you!  Be my comfort, my surety, my hope!  Whenever my life gets lost in the drama, whenever I become caught up in myself, whenever the way forward is confusing or uncertain, show me the way to that low place where my feet touch the earth.  Deliver me from the desire for ticker-tape parades and places of honor!  Teach me to choose simplicity and authenticity!  All praise and glory to you, rock-bottom, ground of my being, because you give character and meaning to my life.  Ave Crux, Spes Uncia.

What does it mean to “have a voice”?  In a modern context, it usually refers to the democratic ideal of each person getting to cast an individual vote with respect to some issue or election.  In a similar way, it can also mean having influence or power when it comes to decision-making at the level of institution, committee, or family.  More importantly and fundamentally, however, “having a voice” is the capacity for relationships: literal air from within me, formed with the very lips of my mouth, accompanied by a facial expression and an intention, sent out in mission to other people, literally touching their skin and inviting processing in mind and heart.  Let’s spend time in prayer, listening attentively to the Word who calls us by name with great dignity and respect (Jn 20:16).  Let’s be like the Good Shepherd (Jn 10:11) and speak in thoughtful and caring ways that call others into communion.  Let’s constantly confess that “Jesus is Lord” (Rom 10:9) in whatever words we are using and, in so doing, join our voices with angelic choirs in perpetual praise (Rev 5:13).

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Whenever my very eccentric grandmother would pull out a weed that included the entire root, she would exclaim, “It’s the kind that makes my mouth water!”  Getting to the root of things, like grandma in her flower bed, is a core human need that satisfies us deeply, yet such a task is not for the faint of heart.  We must be focused, intentional, committed, patient and resilient.  We must be prepared to discover that the deeper reality of a thing may not match our superficial perception of that thing.  And we must be willing to get dirty in the process.  How easy it is to live at the surface, constantly skimming the stem and leaves off the top but leaving the root untouched.  What a tragic mistake!  The next time we feel dissatisfied and restless in life, let’s make the radical decision to go for the root.  We will discover a beautiful complementarity and balance between our inner and outer selves that will make our mouths water too. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us! Ave Crux, Spes Unica!

Pieta by Krishen Khanna

“His feet touched the ground when he walked.”  This would be my choice for an epitaph.  Indeed, while it’s easy to spend life putting in mile after mile on the mental hamster wheel, how risky it is to simply make contact with some deeper reality.  This journey takes us from the complacent confines of our upper room (Jn 20:19) to the vast expanses of authentic human experience (Ps 119:45).  The more willing we become to descend this inner ladder, rung by rung, the more we will get in touch with our needs: for nourishment, for real relationships with others, for that next breath, for life.  Let’s, therefore, literally take off our shoes and socks and feel what it is like to be grounded.  Let’s frolic barefoot in the grass, in the sand, in the dirt, and in the street.  Let’s befriend the earth in a way that allows us, ourselves, to become good soil that bears much fruit (Mt 13:8). Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

The “audible” has become all the rage in college football.  Eleven players run up to the line of scrimmage, they position themselves in a tight formation, they get into their stances, but instead of snapping the ball and running the play, they all look over to the sideline to see if the coach wants to make an adjustment.  If he does not, they simply go with the original plan, but if he does, a large cardboard sign goes up into the air, the players read it, they all shift, and then they run the play.  Let’s get into the habit of pausing and looking to Jesus every time we make plans in life.  He, who brings all things to their good end (Rom 8:28), will not destroy our playbook (Mt 5:17), but will instead suggest changes that will lead us across the existential goal line into eternal life. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Enjoy this reflection on applying the Holy Cross educational philosophy to the start of the new school year….Ave Crux, Spes Unica!

Cemeteries are fascinating spaces that unlock deep feelings in our human souls.  Perhaps walking among the gravestones at night causes us to feel scared, as if we are surrounded by legions of ghosts, or maybe the sight of a mausoleum reminds us of our own mortality and causes us to feel sadness and existential angst.  Doesn’t the act of burying something, however, demand deep trust?  Doesn’t the ritual of anointing that which is dead imply the hope of something new on the other side? In the same way that the women who went to anoint Jesus’ dead body were the first to encounter the awesomeness of resurrected life (Mt 28:1-10), we shall discover our true depths precisely by having the courage to befriend that which is dead in us.  May our willingness to honor our brokenness in life allow us to become walking, talking, living, breathing cemeteries capable of inviting others into the mystery of salvation. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Am I a people pleaser?  Do I suffer from good little girl or good little boy syndrome?  Does my sense of goodness and worth depend upon what other people think of me?  Am I addicted to the feeling of approval I get when being obedient to authoritative figures?  Do I even know my genuine desires, likes, and interests?  Do I really believe that my life is more than such neediness and clinging?  Has anyone ever taught me how to listen to a deeper truth?  Do I really prefer the voice of the beloved from the rest of the voices in the crowd?  Am I willing to spend time practicing this kind of prayerful listening?  Jesus invites us to take a risk on the truth.  It is precisely through the journey of loneliness, suffering and being misunderstood that we will discover an approval that matters and come to know how pleasing we have been to our heavenly father all along. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Interior design is all the rage on popular television.  Women and men of various backgrounds seem to have a growing appreciation for the relationship between the way that their space is organized and their feelings.  The subway tile backsplashes, the exposed beams, the neutral colors, and the vintage furniture thus serve as expressions of their spiritual aspirations.  Jesus, who had “no place to lay his head” (Mt 8:20), invites us to direct our interior design efforts to their ultimate meaning (Jn 19:30), that is, within ourselves (Lk 17:21).  Here, we will discover that there is but one space, a dwelling for you know who (Jn 14:20), that is supported and held in place by the entire cosmos.  Indeed, we shall discover that our dream house is close at hand (Deut 30:14) but will only ever be the result of our partnership with the divine designer. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Let’s make soup!  Begin with a hearty base, the broth of consistent personal prayer.  Next, add meat and veggies, the rituals of our religious traditions which become tender once they have had time to marinate.  Then, add the seasoning of spontaneous expressions of praise and thanksgiving throughout the day, enhancing the flavor of all of the ingredients.  Finally, and most importantly, share this stew with other people!  May our commitment to living a spiritual life, indeed, allow our souls to be a warm and nourishing pot of soup capable of feeding any stranger we meet along the way. 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

The word identity is from a root word meaning “the same.”  When we identify with something, we experience that thing as ourselves.  As psychologically unformed infants and toddlers, we identify with everything, often crying when objects are taken from us, as if we are losing part of ourselves, or becoming upset when somebody else gets hurt, as if it were us.  As we enter adolescence and begin to identify with other people romantically, the attachment can be so strong that we totally lose ourselves and become disillusioned with life.  Even as more capable adults, we can feel stuck when we identify too much with one thing, or we can find ourselves in an endless cycle of career changes, geographic moves or new relationships, hoping to figure ourselves out.  Let’s make the decision today to identify with Jesus, who, especially crucified, cannot but resist attachment (Jn 20:17) and lovingly redirect us to our heavenly father.  In doing so we will experience his same resurrection (2 Tim 2:11) and share the same Christ life with him (Gal 2:20). Now that’s an identity that lasts!  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

The word devil (διάβολος) literally means “to throw in front of.”  It refers to the phenomenon of anomalies in our spiritual and moral experiences where, out of nowhere, we encounter unexpected obstacles that challenge our integrity: a recovering alcoholic catches a whiff of beer as she walks past a local bar, the father of a family that struggles economically receives too much change back from a cashier, a teenager gets a text message with a screenshot of an upcoming exam.  While it is indeed tragic that we take the bait and stumble in such situations, the good news is that we are the ones taking the bait, and we can choose more life-giving options as our human journeys unfold.  Let’s therefore make up our minds to be more intentional about how we operate.  Let’s keep our gaze fixed upon the truth.  Let’s get into the habit of “throwing ourselves in front of” our heavenly father (Mt 26:39).  Let’s leave no space for the devil to prowl (1 Pet 5:8).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

The word Catholic literally means “according to the whole” (κατ’ὅλον) and, as such, offers an exciting vision of the human experience.  Indeed, we do not have to be enslaved to dualistic mental categories that keep us constantly pitting one thing against another: this vs. that, me vs. you, us vs. the world.  Rather, we are invited to make the infinite horizon our first move, trusting that all other things will in fact fall into place.  As the Greatest Commandment (Mk 12:29-31) suggests, the health and durability of our many relationships depends upon our willingness to hold that one deep reality, upon which all things actually live and move and have their being (Acts 17:28), as the stable cornerstone (Ps 118:22) that confers life.  Or, as a certain poet of the afterlife once described, our lives are made complete by “the love that moves the sun and the other stars” (Paradiso, 33.145).  Let’s be Catholic today by letting our faith in the one whom our hearts love (Song 3:3) lead to the love of everything else.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Why do we like music so much?  This person is listening to classical music while grading papers in a coffee shop, this person is rocking out to metal on the morning commute, this person is humming a lullaby while squatting next to a crib, and this person is experimenting with the sound of bluegrass in the corner of the basement.  The psychologists will tell us that music is how we exercise our right brains, the anthropologists will say that music takes us back to our mothers’ heartbeats in the womb, the theologians will explain that the rhythms of music put us in touch with divine order, and the linguists will suggest that music awakens our inner muse.  My opinion is that music is simply how most people pray.  A single song allows our senses to be occupied long enough and in a meaningful enough way for our spirits to dip down below the surface and ruminate on the deeper things for a while.  Like Jesus, on the night before he died, let’s get in the habit of winding down after supper with a hymn, then going off to some quiet place to pray (Mt 26:30).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica. 

This time, this place, this day, this hour, this hope, this dream, this friend, this meal, this spark, this flame….This is my body!  This is my blood! Do this in memory of me!  Let’s get back to the basics, of this moment, the here and now, in the concrete circumstances of our lives.  Let’s breathe in the this-ness, let’s meet him in the this-ness, let’s remain in the this-ness.  It’s not that complicated, it’s just this. Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

I used to spend time serving coffee and doing laundry at a place for people experiencing homelessness.  We had a couple of showers and it always amazed me how precious shower time was for some of our guests.  They would ritualize picking up their towels, practice great intentionality in setting up the shower room, and then rejoice in the privacy of a locked door and a space to themselves (sometimes relinquishing the peace and quiet only after pleading from the staff!).  Maybe this scenario captures the essence of our own lives.  Though we do not like to think of ourselves as homeless, we are lost to ourselves, playing in some imaginary world because we fear what life is really like (Lk 15:13).  We blindly construct shower rooms – fancy houses, social statuses, important careers, etc. –  that serve as safe havens from the risk of living.  The good news is that we carry a room within ourselves, and we can choose to close the door and experience enduring privacy while immersed in the drama of our daily environments (Mt 6:6).  The key which unlocks the door and makes this lifestyle possible is deep trust in and prayerful communion with our heavenly father (Mt 6:9-15) who constantly invites us home (Lk 15:20).  May we simply have the courage to go home.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Sometimes, when I feel very stressed out and overwhelmed by life, I look down at my feet and exclaim, “Oh there I am!”  While it can be very easy to get carried away by grandiose ideas, anxieties, and the past, our feet never lie, they will always be exactly where they are, and we will always be exactly where they are.  Perhaps this is why Jesus allowed his feet to be washed and anointed on the day before his passion (Mt 26:6-13), a time when it would have been easy to simply give in to the pressure and run away from his mission.  It is the Lord himself who washes our feet (Jn 13:1-17) so that we be might responsive to his call, “Come follow me” (Mt 4:19), and lead lives that are grounded in reality, making our way, one step at a time, one foot at a time, along the narrow path that ultimately and only leads to life (Mt 7:13-14).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

“You’ve got a banana in your ear!”  Maybe this phrase elicits a chuckle as we imagine what it would look like to walk around with a banana literally sticking out of our ear, but it is functionally how most of us live.  Because life is hard and confusing, we adopt barriers that prevent us from having to actually touch and be touched by reality.  Maybe our banana is alcohol, or pornography, or gossip, or ideology, or ego.  Whatever the case may be, what difference is there between one banana and the next?  Aren’t we all just scared of life?  Let’s therefore learn to be honest about the particular banana that we use to help us deal with the stress of the human experience.  Let’s pray for the humility and courage to have it removed through the very circumstances in which we live.  Let’s trust that there is another fruit that will grow in its stead – from the inside out – which will not block, but mediate reality.  Let’s feed others from this Tree of Life and become radically open to the constant gift of life.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica. 

Buddha, sitting under a bodhi tree, deep in meditation, touching the earth at the moment of awakening.  What a sight to behold!  How often we think of enlightenment as some far-out, ethereal, other-worldly experience that only gurus attain, but the story of this human person suggests that the journey to awareness is actually quite close at hand (cf. Deut 30:14).  For the Buddha it was the posture of his body, a specific kind of tree, the rhythm of his breathing, and literally touching the ground on which he sat.  I wonder if my kitchen table, seat on the bus, vegetable garden, office cubicle or classroom desk could be places of transcendence, where the one is known not over and above but precisely through the many (cf. Mk 12:28-31).  I wonder if my five senses might serve as an exciting incarnational playground where time and eternity meet and constantly bring forth new expressions of life.  Whatever the case may be, my name is also Buddha and my destiny is sharing in the full flourishing of the human experience.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica. 

English muffins are excellent meditations on the human soul.  Our memories and emotions and imaginations and minds and hearts contain a plethora of tiny “nooks and crannies” that are just begging to be filled.  Perhaps our inner English muffin has not been properly split and we are stuck in a closed-off state where we feel empty and unfulfilled.  Or, perhaps we have allowed entities other than sweet jellies and honeys to take up residence in these inner rooms.  Whatever the case may be, we can always start afresh and be like Jesus whose constantly expanding “nooks and crannies” house the most precious entity possible, people, like you and me, for whom he has prepared a place (Jn 14:2-3).  Let’s therefore not grow weary of inviting guests into our souls, for it is by their presence that we shall come to know the sweetness of the divine guest who rejoices in a full house (Lk 15:20-24).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

Have you ever seen one of those Russian doll sets?  When you open the large wooden doll, there is a smaller one inside, and a smaller one inside of that doll, and so on, until you get to the final doll at the center.  I wonder if this is a good analogy for our spiritual lives: while we may play Russian doll with the various things we encounter in this world – unmasking them one layer at a time with our intellectual powers – we ourselves must learn how to be uncovered.  Indeed, our deep dignity is the doll at the center of this drama and our beloved is eager to find us beneath all of our stuff!  Our beloved, however, doesn’t just strip us down but allows us to participate in this process by inviting us through circumstances that, because we are willing to walk through them, slowly peel away our exterior.  The result is the grace of being seen for who we really are, a precious doll in the sight of her maker (Is 62:4-5).  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

It’s funny how our attitudes about things change as we are drawn further and further along the path of life.  I have this friend who is a brilliant intellectual – and a devout secularist.  When we would gather together, thinking that there was some religious deficiency in him that jeopardized his salvation, I would try to steer our conversations in a way that would help him “see the truth.”  How awkward it is for me to admit that!  Many years have now passed, however, and it is obvious to me that he was the one preaching the gospel in our relationship – by his patience, his humility, his respect for me, his willingness to withhold judgment, and his faithfulness to the deeper calling of our friendship.  The next time, therefore, I think I am doing someone a favor by bringing them to Jesus, let me pause for a moment, say a prayer for guidance, and perhaps discover that Jesus is bringing me to them.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica.

“The Same Inside” by Anna Swir

Constitution 2: Mission with revised and updated language to speak specifically to Holy Cross Educators…Ave Crux, Spes Unica!

Here’s a nifty prayer we can start saying:  Wow.  The sun rises as we emerge from our sleep, wow.  We pull a pan of warm muffins out of the oven at breakfast time, wow.  A single finger on the ignition button starts our car, wow.  A stranger smiles in our direction on the way to work, wow.  Our favorite poem comes to mind in the middle of the day, wow.  We can hear our breath as we climb the stairs into our home, wow.  And the list goes on, wow!  The decision to acknowledge the mystery of life, one small wow moment at a time, in the ordinary circumstances of our daily routines, becomes a way of being, and we become healthy human beings, children of the living God, who are freed from the need to be the center of it all, as we open up in gratitude to the gift of life.  Let’s wow today, let’s wow tomorrow, let’s wow forever, as we walk wowfully together into a future full of hope.  Wow.  Ave Crux, Spes Unica. Wow.