These are the reflections of a Secular Franciscan. I look not only at my own spiritual journey, but also at issues of life, economic and social justice, morality, the arts, and more through the lens of Franciscan Spirituality.
There are certain songs I enjoy singing. "Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport," the first song that actually caught my attention on the radio (yes, I'm that old), "Bottle of Wine," (sots in my family?), "Never Ending Song of Love" are three of them. I sometimes sing them as I walk or drive, just for the pleasure of singing them.
There are others, but lately one that I've been singing is "Open the Eyes of My Heart" by Paul Baloche.
The lyrics are simple and repetitive. The tune is not hard; it suits my range. But for me anyway it is also moving - this is a song I feel as if I'm praying as I sing.
There are multiple covers of the song - it seems to touch other people too. My favorite is the Randy Travis one. My own version is similar to his.
Sadly, he later faced all sorts of problems, including a massive stroke that, for now, has incapacitated him and rendered him incapable of performing. Say a prayer for him.
Here are the lyrics as Michael W. Smith performed the song.
"Open The Eyes Of My Heart" Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
Open the eyes of my heart
I want to see You
I want to see You
Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
Open the eyes of my heart
I want to see You
I want to see You
To see You high and lifted up
Shinin' in the light of Your glory
Pour out Your power and love
As we sing holy, holy, holy
Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
Open the eyes of my heart
I want to see You
I want to see You
Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
Open the eyes of my heart
I want to see You
I want to see You
To see You high and lifted up
Shinin' in the light of Your glory
Pour out Your power and love
As we sing holy, holy, holy
[Repeat two more times]
Holy, holy, holy
We cry holy, holy, holy
You are holy, holy, holy
I want to see you
Holy, holy, holy
Holy, holy, holy
You are holy, holy, holy
I want to see you
Holy, holy, holy
Holy, holy, holy
Holy, holy, holy,
I want to see you
This is one of the songs I played for the opening of the local 40 Days for Life campaign. I prayed that the hearts of everyone connected with abortion might have their hearts opened - within the industry, the victims, even the protesters that they will be loving and compassionate.
The local G. K Chesterton Society sponsored their 12th annual Chesterton Conference today.
The theme was "More than Magic," and the speakers were Dale Ahlquist, the President of the American Chesterton Society; Kevin O'Brien, of Theater of the Word Incorporated; Joseph Pearce, a prolific author; and James Warren, a professional magician.
The "magic" they addressed was of fairy stories as truth as explored by Chesterton in the "Ethics of Elfland" from Orthodoxy.
Ahlquist spoke about "A Citizen of Fairyand." O'Brien spoke as J.R.R.R. Tolkien "On Fairy Stories." Pearce talked about Chesterton's influence on Tolkien and C.S. Lewis and their ideas about faith and fairy tales. Finally, Warren performed some magic, and addressed the subject of "A Magician in Elfland."
Great time. Good talks and performances. Good people in the audience, leading to some wonderful conversations.
And O'Brien tipped me off about a possible Santa gig next year! Amazing.
As I watch the Donald Trump campaign I grow increasingly nervous.
To me, he represents all that is the worst in American politics - and I fear that American voters will either again will buy the flash and show and give us a Trump disaster in the White House, or will turn to the Democrats and give us further moral decay.
Optimistic, eh?
When I think of Trump, the phrase "Ugly American" comes to mind. And I don't mean ugly in the way he implied Carly Fiorina looked. ("Oh, I didn't mean her face, I mean her persona.")
I'm referring to the 1950s political novel in which Americans were portrayed as loud, insensitive, ostentatious, pretentious, arrogant, socially isolated by choice, and so on.
Sound like Trump?
In the novel, the Americans' boorishness repels others in other lands, leading them to turn to, at that time, the communists. Who will the offended turn to today? The big foe in the media now seems to be radical Islam, though I suspect rampant secularization and selfishness are bigger threats.
Trump is tapping into a stream of American politics that is not new. Loud show, brass bands, fireworks, Nativism, xenophobia, bigotry, and so on. His brand of boorishness is exaggerated due to the constant media coverage, true, but he is certainly playing to all that is ignorant and crowd-pleasing in the underbelly of the American character.
The sad thing is that so many people who know him personally say he is kind and generous. He is obviously intelligent, though I sense intellectually ignorant and lazy. I think he's been trapped by the need for attention and what he thinks will get him that attention.
My hope is that the Trump show will burn out as people begin to get bored - or as he continues to make offensive statements (or fails to make reasonable responses, as with a recent Muslim comment he seemed accept). The voters will, hopefully, pick more reasonable, responsible candidates and we will have real choice in 2016.
Then again, the voters fell for Obama. Twice. Hey, at least the Nobel Prize folks are finally beginning to admit that maybe giving him the Peace Prize simply for not being Bush was a mistake.
Right now, though, all I can do is speak out - and then shake my head as voters seem to like show without substance.
Four years ago I was asked to provide music for the kick-off of our local 40 Days For Life campaign. I searched for songs to play - I recall doing "Open The Eyes of My Heart" and a modified version of "We Shall Overcome." But I wanted a pro-life song.
I checked out a few, found some interesting ones, but none fit my style. So I wrote one of my own, "3 a.m."
I played it that one time. After, I kept thinking I should record it, maybe even make a video, so I would remember it. Never did.
Flash forward.
A week ago I got an e-mail from the local 40 Days organizer. The music for the upcoming kickoff on September 22 had fallen through - could I help with 15 minutes worth?
I said yes, then searched for some songs, including that one I wrote.
After looking back through a bunch of computer files, I finally found the lyrics. But I hadn't written down the chords.
I sort of remembered the tune, and what key it was in, so I recreated the song as best I could.
We'll see.
Here are the lyrics as I recorded them back then - I may modify as I practice.
3 a.m.
Another
night
She’s
haunted by
A
baby’s cry
In the
night
No way
to hide
From
the emptiness
She
feels inside
And all
those things
she’ d
believed
she now
knows
she’d
been deceived
With a
choice
she’s
now a mother
who
will never
hold
her child.
He
turns a page
He
turns away
The
words get lost
In what
he can’t say
He’d
shown support
He’d
gone along
Despite
a feeling
That it
was wrong
He
resents the loss
And
that on that day
Society
said he
really
had no say
Without
a choice
He’s
now a father
Who
will never
Hold
his child
We were
too young
We were
afraid
We were
too poor
The
time was wrong
It was
just a choice
It
wasn’t human
It was
just cells
It
wasn’t alive
It couldn’t feel
It was
just a choice
It was
just a choice
It was just
a choice
Safe
within
His
mother’s womb
But
when she chose
It
spelled his doom
He
tried to flee
When
death came near
He
tried to scream
No one
could hear
Now he
rests
In
God’s love
He’s
forgiven but
Laments
from above
Because
of choice
They’re
now parents
Who
will never
Hold
their child
We were too young
We were afraid
We were too poor
The time was wrong
It was just a choice
It wasn’t human
It was just cells
It wasn’t alive
It couldn’t feel
It was just a choice
It was just a choice
It was just a choice
He’s
not a choice
He’s a
child
Who
will never
Be
held.
Okay, not the greatest song, but I can sing it. The version of "We Shall Overcome" is back. Others? Maybe "Open the Eyes of My Heart" again. Leaning toward "Go Make a Difference." "Amazing Grace"? "Christ Be Our Light"? "Prayer of St. Francis"?
This time by a local conservative radio talk show host.
Last week, that host made an on-air comment about Pope Francis and the issue of refugees. The fellow in question is a Mormon, and is not always accurate when he talks about the Catholic Church, as was the case here. Sometimes the comments are based on common misconceptions and misinformation, and even ignorance. I'd step into the same trap if I tried to comment on Mormonism.
I called his show, then wrote to offer some information to help dispel his misinformation. He then in response made a crack about Pope Pius and the Jews. The old myth of Catholic inaction during the Holocaust, a myth begun by the Soviets and their fellow travelers to try to undermine the Church, and then promulgated by a willing media.
I responded.
He ignored me.
I sent more information.
He ignored me.
I sent links to sources.
He ignored me.
I also sent more information about Pope Francis and Middle Eastern refugees.
He ignored me.
Then Pope Francis called for Catholic parishes and institutions and parishes - including Vatican ones - to take in refugee, completely refuting his original point. I sent him a link to the news.
He blocked me.
Now, I had been polite, but my repeated responses may have begun to annoy him. I'll acknowledge that I am at heart a long-distance runner. In chess, in war games, in debates, I plod on and on and on, gradually wearing down my opponents, or driving them from the field.
Of course, it could also be that he realized that maybe he was wrong, and he did not want to admit it or be reminded about it.
Whatever the case, he fled the field. He blocked me.
I am always looking at my style of arguing to see if I'm being unfair or sarcastic and superior or if my style is ultimately counterproductive. After all, if I so annoy people they shut me out that reduces the chances that they might have their eyes and hearts opened. As a Franciscan I constantly try to evaluate if I've been too violent or unloving in what I do and say.
I'm getting better, but I am not where I need to be.
But as for now, I'm blocked.
Good thing I believe in the power of prayer. If I can't reach him, maybe God will.
I was taking part in a discussion about Catholic school experiences. My fellow discussers were telling "horror" stories and generally mocking their experiences. I was pointing out all the positive experiences and effects my 12 years of Catholic schooling had given me.
It hit me that our differing perceptions were in their own ways true, but that our "truths" were formed by what we chose to remember.
As I put it elsewhere: One thing I've learned is that how we perceive something depends in large part on how we choose to perceive it.
I thought of St. Francis and lepers.
When he was young, he abhorred lepers, as did many people in his society. They were ugly, deformed, diseased. They had open wounds. They were missing body parts. They were believed to be highly contagious. There were often dirty and smelled. They were treated as outcasts, as vile sinners.
But when he learned to look with the eyes of faith, he saw Christ in them. They were beautiful. They were to be loved.
The lepers had not changed. Francis did.
In the same way, saints over the years perceived the beauty in others the world often regarded negatively. Mother Teresa. Catherine Doherty. Dorothy Day. Father Damian. Peter Claver.
I think of so many good people today who run homeless shelters, health clinics, hospices, who work with the physically and mentally and spiritually ill.
These holy people are not blind. They see the sicknesses, the deformities, the sins. But they choose to focus on what is good and beautiful.
They choose to focus on Jesus in others.
I pray that I might find the strength to choose to see what they see.
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