I sometimes wonder what happened to the Lazarus whom Jesus brought back from the dead.  According to the Church, Lazarus and the young girl who was also brought back from the dead both lived normal lives that ended in natural (rather than premature) deaths.  Still, I can't help but wonder ... these are the first people brought back from the dead.  Why would He bring them from the dead just for them to die again?

But then, what if they didn't die again?  Would Lazarus still be walking the Earth?  Would he be an eternal observer of the passage of history?  How much of that history would he affect?  Would he right minor wrongs along the way, or take a chance to fight the larger wrongs that he saw?  Would he be invulnerable, his body impervious to disease and age?

Like an emergency room doctor resuscitating a patient whose heart has stopped, Jesus gave Lazarus a second chance at a natural life (and death).  Sometime after Jesus's death and resurrection, Lazarus would face death again, this time knowing that his eternal life had been bought by his friend.  Jesus used Lazarus's first death as a sign to nonbelievers of His power.  May those whom I love not need such a level of display to believe in Him.

I just finished watching the Matrix again.  When I saw it the first time, I loved the internal conversations that it prompted me to have with myself about the nature of reality.  The concept of universe around us being only a shell of the true reality is an idea that strikes a definite cord in my soul.

The first time I was really struck with this idea was actually in a Garfield comic book.  In it, various versions of Garfield were presented by different artists.  In one, Garfield is a space pilot whose entire life and death experience turn out to only be a computer simulation.  I don't know why the idea struck me so hard in such a lighthearted genre, but I remember the idea plaguing my dreams for months.

The second time I encountered this idea was in Plato's concept of the cave.  In this philosophy, all of our existence is just a shadow of what is actually true.  We are prisoners of our senses, only willing to believe what we can directly experience.

Of course, the Matrix brought these ideas back to mind, but the other movie that brings me back to these thoughts is the Truman Show.  In this movie, not only is the reality a fabrication, but it is observed.  What appears to be an ordinary life is an inspiration to millions.  I often wonder how that story continues past Truman walking out that final door.

I believe these stories and concepts stick with me because I recognize an underlying truth within them.  This life is not the true reality.  Reality as we know it is but a shadow of our true existence.  Yet our lives are important and worth living as they inspire the life that waits for us beyond.

We are created in God's image.

This idea is a part of my faith.  I don't believe, however, that this was necessarily meant literally, at least in the way that most people think.  I believe it means that we, like God, are made up of a trinity: heart, mind, and soul.  I think that this is what Jesus means when He says that the greatest Commandment is to "Love your God with all your mind, with all your heart, and all your soul."  In this statement, He is evoking our entire selves.

I think that Freud was on this same idea, although he missed the mark, when talking about our Id, Ego, and Super Ego.  He got the three components, but did not capture their true natures.

Jesus's Commandment instructs us not only to be devoted to God, but to come to a unity within ourselves, something that is not easy to do.  Rarely are our three components in agreement with each other.  Some people mistakenly try to settle this conflict by forcing an aspect of themselves into the shadows, or nurture one aspect to the expense of the others.  What we need to learn to do is listen to the needs of each part of our own trinity, bring them into agreement, and find a way for them to work together.

We are, each of us, three persons living as one.

This morning we got the bad news at work that we knew was coming.  It was not as bad as it could have been.  It was still bad, bad enough to make so many of those old fears creep back into my mind.  Fears of not paying our bills.  Fears of having to move.  Fears of the unknown.

Fear has the power to paralyze me.  We were told at an training that dealt with emergencies that there are three responses to fear: fight, flight, or freeze.  I already know that I tend to fall solidly into the third category.  I freeze, hoping that the problem will pass me by or solve itself.

When I'm tired, as I am now, my fears tend to compound themselves, gathering speed, strength and mass.  They keep me awake at night.  They distract me from the tasks at hand.  They turn me into my least favorite version of myself: angry, sniping, depressed.

I am trying to add a fourth option for my response to fear: faith.  God has watched out for me and my family through various tribulations.  He will help us through this as well.  Just thinking about putting my trust in Him has lessened the tension in my shoulders.  This doesn't mean that I should just sit back and do nothing.  It means that no matter what I choose to do, I have a powerful force helping me by giving me the strength to confront my fears.

All will be well.

I am having a hard time knowing what to do with my life.  I feel like I keep getting mixed signals.  Unlikely coincidences open up possibilities that then close without explanation.  I struggle with not knowing that the best choice is for my family, not to mention what God's plan is for me, to only find choices swept away.

All in all, my life is pretty good.  I mean, it's better than most people's in the world when all things are considered and I am generally happy.  Yet something always seems to step in the way of my feeling secure for either myself or my family.  Just as our finances get into order, an unexpected expense or a drop in revenue occur.  The accident that totaled our car and changed our lives by basically sending us out of Alaska occurred just minutes after Janelle and I had figured out our financial situation and come up with a plan for the next couple of years.  The year after I made a conscious decision to not look outside of Colon for other teaching jobs, we were hit by a terrible set of negotiations that hit us with an extra monthly fee that nearly bankrupted us.  We just got our finances in order again only to find that I will be taking some level of pay cut (beyond already losing my step again this year).

Things will work out.  God has taken care of us and we have lived a lifestyle more comfortable than most.  Perhaps I, likely most fellow humans, will never achieve that feeling of security.  Maybe that's just part of our nature.  It doesn't stop me from praying for something better.

I often wonder whether I am Christian enough.  Several years ago, I wrote an essay on this idea called "The Fraud" [found in the Chicken, AK section], and while I think that I'm in better shape since then, I still fall well short of where I believe I should be.

Today, I had several hours with just me and the boys while Janelle was at an art conference.  I did take the time to play a couple of quick games of chess with Trevor and read the remainder of a chapter of Harry Potter for the two little ones, but the greater majority of my time was spent playing a computer game that I have already beaten (recently, even).  Even in my own microcosm, I wasn't really spending time with my children or even working on my writing; I giving myself a false sense of accomplishment by advancing a game.

Compared to people who volunteer at soup kitchens, work at homeless shelters, perform missionary work around the country and around the world, I feel that I have really fallen short.  Now, I don't believe that a person needs to do all of those things in order to be accepted by God.  God will take us as we are.  But if I believe in such a just and loving God, why do I not do more to help other people?  

Right now, I am worried about providing for my family when I make so much more than most people in America.  I am constantly wanting bigger and newer things.  If I have truly drunk from the living waters of God's word, from which there is no thirst, why do I feel so parched?  I know of many things that I could do, but they are hard things and my flesh is weak.

I know that God loves me anyway.  I know that He forgives my weaknesses.  Still, I would like to be stronger in both faith and action.

The breath of spring filled my lungs today, rejuvenating me with smells and senses that I had forgotten.  It smelled of promise and potential.

While I love the cold hand of winter and the crisp blanket of snow, I am invigorated by the coming of spring.  It is a time for growth and rebirth, a time for all things to be made new.  Right now it is huddling under the covers of winter, hoping for a few more minutes of rest before getting up and facing the world.  But it can't stay in bed all day.  Spring has things to do.  It is in charge of the beginnings.

So too do I feel with my soul.  I have spent too long with it covered, comfortable in my blanket of false indifference, afraid to let my feelings out into the cold.  But rather than protecting my faith and belief, I was smothering it.  Instead of providing it shelter, I was keeping it from growing towards the light.

Winter is over; spring is here.

Today, instead of wearing purple robes, as is normal for Lent, our priest wore rose colored robes to celebrate.  He did so because the Fourth Sunday of Lent is Laetare (Lay - tar - ay) Sunday.  It means "Rejoice!"

In this case, Laetare is a reminder of why we're in Lent: the Lord's resurrection is nearly here.  It is a reminder in a time of sacrifice that His sacrifice wins out in the end.  It is a reward for passing the halfway point and either enjoying our triumph thus far or setting us back on course.

There are more reasons to rejoice.  Despite what the evening news might say, our world is a pretty fantastic place.  True, it would be nice if more people could enjoy what our world currently has to offer, but more and more people are.  Trust me, as a student and teacher of history, I know of no other time in the world that so many people have had such freedoms, such magic as our current technology, such long lives, and such peace.

The world has long been a violent place, and people have taken advantage of one another since the beginning of time, but those who commit violence and those who take advantage are finding less and less space to live.  We live in an age of marvels, and I believe that it will only get better.  Look at the great things in your life and realize the underlying truth.  We have lives worth celebrating.

Laetare!

I struggle with the concept of death.  I worry that when I pass into the final sleep that I will not awake.  I fear the darkness that will take my consciousness, dreams, and ambitions and turn them into nothing.  My rational (and, as most of you know, egotistical) mind panics at these ideas.

But something within me believes that there is more to it than simple nonexistence.  I sense a connection to the other lives around me.  I feel that I am more than just my physical self.  Perhaps it's just my religion talking.  ... Perhaps it's Yoda: "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."

The idea of the soul rings true to me, more so than my being a happy accident of universal forces.  It does not just feel like wishful thinking.  There is a drive, a motivation, beyond the simple desires to survive, procreate, and be remembered.

My rational mind does fear that this existence is it, but even it recognizes that there is more to this world than what we can see.  A part of me knows what my brain only hopes.  This life is not the only life in store for us.  This life will give our future life meaning, but it is not everything.

The new Noah movie starring Russell Crowe and Emma Watson has naturally created a flurry of discussion about Christian beliefs in general and the story of Noah in specific.  While some of the discussion has been from religious people concerned about the dramatization of this event and its accuracy when compared to the Bible, some of the discussion has been about the event itself and what it might reveal about the character of God.  One specific question that has been raised is how can a just and loving god kill off most of creation?

Surely not everyone killed in the flood was evil.  What about the children?  For a religion that is supposed to support life, this story seems rather blood-thirsty.

I don't have the best answer for this.  Frankly, natural disasters are one of the more difficult hurdles that I have to jump in my religion.  Still, I posit the following (and please remember that I am not a theologian nor a geologist):  

The world has survived many extinction-level calamities (us humans causing the largest of them all in number of species ended).  Humans have feared the omen of a comet in the sky (attributed to some level of calamity in nearly every culture of the world).  At some point in our past, a comet appeared in the sky, growing steadily bigger as it approaches and is captured by the Earth.  God warns His people of the danger, but only Noah listens.  The rest of the people deny the threat; some of them throwing "end of the world" parties.  God warns that their preparations need to include species of animal and bird rather than merely the creation of a life raft to hold people and a few supplies.  This event will require a massive rebuilding.  Only Noah and his family prepare.  Some people perhaps half-heartedly imitate Noah's plan, but nothing near the scale that he attempts.  

As the extra pull of the heavenly body asserts massive tidal pressures on the Earth (pulling the water through the gates of the ground), people begin their panic, still not listening to God.  They loot, rape, and murder as people so often do in the face of looming disaster.  Noah makes his final preparations and closes the ark.  The comet finally ends its orbit and crashes into an ocean.  Massive tsunami cross over the Earth.  Hurricane level storms fill the atmosphere.  The world is covered in water.

Noah's ride is not an easy one, but his preparations allow him to survive.  By listening to God's warning, Noah saved our species from a species-killing event.  Over time, the warning would be against the sinfulness of those who did not listen to God.  While true, the story of Noah is more powerful to me because it shows not a mass-murdering God, but a God who warned us and showed us how to save ourselves from a world-ending event, and the man who listened.

Here we are at the end of the first half of Lent.  So far, I have been largely on track with my daily writings.  I've been surprised that I haven't been at a loss for topics.  In fact, there are a couple that I thought I would have written about by now, but more timely issues came up instead.  I have also been surprised that these have flowed as well as they have so far.  Most of these have been first drafts (there are some typos to prove that) that did not require anything (or very little) in the way of revision.  Granted, they aren't exactly Shakespeare, but all-in-all I've been pleased with the outcomes.

Truth be told, I feel largely the same about my life right now (although I hope that I'm not yet to the halfway point).  I feel blessed and when I look around I see evidence that it is more than just a feeling.  Although there are aspects of my work that make me want to quit, I love my job and the people with whom I work.  Even though I would like a bigger yard and a room devoted to my collection of toys and video games, I am very comfortable in my home and where I live.  While I would like to see my friends more, I love my them and am glad that they are a part of my life.  Despite there being room for improvement, I feel as though my relationships with my parents and siblings have grown over time.  I do not spend as much time as I probably should with my children, but they are wonderful, loving, attractive, and intelligent; I am proud (perhaps to a fault) of each of them.  Most importantly, I have the perfect companion in my wife, who has stood by me despite my numerous failings.

My life isn't perfect, but it sure is close. 

Eleanor Rooney died this morning.  She was a pleasant woman who sang as a tenor in the choir at St. Mary's Star of the Sea church.  We are singing at her funeral this Saturday.  While I know that she is in a better place, I am going to miss seeing her.

May the Lord bring her into His warm embrace.

The television show Bones mentioned something disturbing the other day.  Last year, a study in Austria discovered that 80% of holy water tested from over 21 sites showed traces of fecal matter.  Now, on the surface, that seems fairly logical.  People don't wash their hands enough, and they certainly don't think about doing so before they go to church.  The 20% of holy water that did not test positive for fecal matter was from sites that replaced their fonts of holy water more often.

When you probe deeper, these finds raise a lot of questions about faith and miracles.  For over a thousand years people have attributed miracles to dipping their hands in, bathing in, and even drinking from these fonts.  Yet, it was a trail of illnesses that led the researchers to conduct their study.  So, what should I believe?

There is evidence to support both sides of the story.  Numerous cases of miracles have been traced to some of these holy sites and documented by people trained to distinguish faith from fraud.  At the same time, the scientific process has replicated experiments that show demonstrate how unhealthy the water can be.

Both can be true.  I really don't have the evidence or the background in theology to support either one nor to discount them either.  There is only one thing I know for certain: I'm still going to dip my hand in the holy water, but I'm going to wash before I eat.

I have no memory of the second reading from today's mass.  I got the first reading (Moses getting water for his people), sang the responsorial psalm, and even tuned back in for the Alleluia and the Gospel (Jesus promising "living water" to the Samaritan woman).  Yet I spaced out the entire second reading.  I was thinking about today's GNOME, issues with work, concerns about my children, and other stray thoughts.  My children, whether sitting in the pew with me or being watched from above, often become my focus rather than God.

This is not an isolated occurrence; I often find my thoughts drifting at times in church and have to pull my attention back to what is going on.  I have even caught myself in mid prayer (mid song even) starting to lose my attention or even completely forgetting what I had just said (or sung).  The hardest times are when, like today, I am tired to begin with and find myself easily entering into an almost dreamlike state.

I only go to church once a week and only for a little over an hour.  That is such a small portion of my life; why dan't I give my attention more fully to God?  But this isn't just true of God, there are many aspects of my life that deserve greater attention (especially my wife and children) yet end up being drowned out by problems, dreams, and stray thoughts.  I need to learn to give attention to those things that are truly important in my life, but I also shouldn't beat myself up over my lack of attention.

I am human, and my attention wanders.  As long as I work to bring my attention back, as long as I don't forget what is truly important, I can forgive myself those lapses. 

I have since read the second reading (and found my attention wandering again, but I pulled it back) and noticed that a portion (Romans 5:3-5) actually talks about something similar to my earlier post on suffering.  I really should pay better attention.