Holy Spirit, Come into My Life

Christianity is not external to the real concerns of my life. It illuminates them and opens me up to their true meaning.

But this only happens if I live the relationship with God that He continually desires to deepen throughout my life.

And how can I live and grow in a relationship with Eternal Love except by asking for Him to change me, asking for Him to empower me to love Him more, asking Him to enable me to see the Church as the instrument of His love, and her teachings as the road of love that really corresponds to my life?

I want Him to "come" into my life, deepen my relationship with Him, and make me more aware of His presence. This is why I must ask, continually, for the gift of the Holy Spirit to be renewed within me.

This is why my whole heart has to be a living, loving, begging prayer for God's grace.

Christian Life is "Real Life"

The rest of the world often views Christianity as a collection of external rules that more or less interfere with real life, that is, with the part of life that interests and engages me as a person.

What a grim business! No wonder people are not attracted to it.

But how easy it can be to allow this kind of moralism to become my own view of Christianity. I must remember that Christianity is a new life, a supernatural life, a life of communion with God.

Through baptism, I have been given a participation in the Divine life, and through grace this life grows within me and transforms me.

God gives Himself to me; He draws me into a personal relationship with Himself; He leads me to my destiny which is to share forever in His glory, to behold and to love forever the One who is the fullness of all goodness, to belong to Him forever.

Eternal glory has already begun, secretly, in the very heart of this ordinary life, because Jesus has embraced all human life and defined it according to the measure of His love. Through Jesus and in the Holy Spirit, the Father pours out this love in the depths of my heart, empowering me to exist and act in a new way.

God dwells in me, engendering within me a new life through the death and resurrection of Jesus. He calls me to cooperate with His extraordinary, transforming grace right now, whether I am praying or eating chicken, listening to a friend or watching a baseball game, teaching Josefina about the Eucharist or drawing doodles with her.

The Risen Jesus is shaping my whole humanity: my eating and drinking, waking and sleeping, living and dying.

Christianity is not external to the real concerns of my life. Rather, it illuminates them and opens me up to their true meaning.

Life is Walking on Water

Life is walking on water.

"Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’" (Matthew 14:22-31)

Like the disciples in this Gospel passage, we find ourselves on a journey. We're in the human "boat," and the wind and the waves of our lives are preventing us from getting anywhere.

It's dark. We're frustrated. There's weird stuff going on all over the place. We're barely afloat.

But then suddenly, we are surprised by a man. Not only is he moving freely. He's doing the impossible. He's "walking on the water" -- all the human problems that frustrate our plans and our designs are raging and he is right there in the midst of them. Yet they do not trouble or hinder him at all. He has complete freedom and mastery over everything that's threatening to sink us, but when we see him we are scared.

This is to be expected.

Jesus's disciples were scared when they first saw him walking on the water. They were first century Palestinians, children of Israel, not terribly well educated, and maybe a bit superstitious. In any case, they were "spiritual" men, so they were understandably scared that a ghost was approaching them.

"What the heck is this?"...they wondered. "It's not human; that's for sure!"

We are twenty-first century cosmopolitans -- global villagers -- and most of us know that there must be something more than just this physical world that we see, hear, and touch. Something is "out there" that we might "see" in strange moments, like after we die. Or this "something" has to do with certain deep experiences we have from time to time. We know this, because -- after all -- we identify ourselves as "spiritual" people.

But right now, we're in this capsizing boat -- the "boat" that is the place where we are actively engaged and concerned with life, where we place our hopes and expectations for here and now, where we look for concrete solutions. This is not the place for "being spiritual," we think. This is the place where we need to get down to business.

And business is not going well.

We are also superstitious, in old fashioned ways perhaps, but surely in subtler ways that we wouldn't readily acknowledge. We are afraid of something new happening in our lives, something good and beautiful that really challenges us and changes us but that is also beyond our calculations and our control.

So what are we going to do with this "someone" we now see, who is accompanying us in our lives, who seems to know us better than we know ourselves? What are we to make of this? How can we bear it?

And then he speaks: "Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid."

He is a man walking with us, a real "someone," a friend. We see that there are some among us who recognize him.

And we recognize him too. In his face we see the promise of life, the hope that moves us, the fulfillment that we have been trying to reach as we flounder in the waves of frustration and failure.

We recognize all of this in his human face.

This man is walking with us, and he is walking on the water that we fear is going to drown us. This man is with us and he is our friend. He is also offering us a possibility beyond our calculations and beyond our own power.

He says to us, "Come."

He says, "Trust me. Walk with me. Stay with me and you will walk on this water, you will do the impossible, you will walk and you will go onward and persevere even amidst the highest waves and the wildest winds. Come with me!"

He says even more to us through this Gospel story. He says, "Even if you get scared and start to sink -- you who are so small in your heart, with so little faith and so little trust -- I will catch you! I will not leave you alone. Trust me!"

This is the decision we must make every day. We hear him say, "Come!" And we must decide, we must choose to trust him, and to take that first step onto the water...

...and then the next, and the next. Step by step, moving, halting, struggling, sinking, letting him catch us and pull us up again, and then taking the next step....

Life is walking on water with him.

Flowers in December

On a chill morning, in the first light of day, on a barren hill, there were flowers.

It was no place to find flowers, or anything of value.

There was just one small man who had nothing in this world, nothing but a love for a beauty and a goodness and a presence that he encountered on his path. A beauty that won his heart. A presence that he could not deny; that, indeed, found him even when he tried to hide from it.

That small man followed; He let himself be loved. He listened and obeyed and did things that appeared to be foolish and useless.

And he found flowers in December.

Blooming in the barren wastes. It was a wonder, a surprise.

But he had learned how to be surprised. So he picked these flowers and gathered them in his cloak. It was enough for him to know, in that moment, that he would be able to share some sign of the wonder he had seen, so that others too would be convinced and drawn by beauty and love.

And there was to be yet another surprise.

We can be surprised. Something new can happen, beyond our calculations. And then, new possibilities open, a path stretches before us, and there is communication where before there were only inadequate words and the failure to understand. Something new can happen.

It already has happened. It is forever new. Again and again, it surprises us.

The night does not last forever. 

At dawn comes the opening of the eyes, and a miracle is given to us.

One day, from a place where no one was looking, something happened... something that was a new beginning, a healing, a changing of hearts, and -- slowly -- a new culture that arose from out of the ruins of the old.

What happened on December 12, 1531 was a sign of the miracle that happens everyday, every moment: She brings Him to us.

This is why we must "never give up." Our hope for our salvation, and for our society, is Him.

Nothing less.

Him.

And He is here, right now.

Living and Learning to Love

Young Janaro, complete with hair!

Faithful readers of this blog (heh heh, is anybody there?) remember that it was about this time last year that I discovered the ancient hand written "blog" of the Young John Janaro (1990-1992). The year has come round again, and I am looking at what I wrote 24 years ago today.

These words are a little bit ironic, having lived almost a quarter century after their writing. I cannot say that I have any special intuition on this point today. I still work with a sense of purpose on certain projects that need time to mature. Sometimes I sketch out ideas in this blog that I hope to develop further. Others remain in the stage of creative procrastination. In any case, my life and the scope of my accomplishments are in the hands of God -- a fact that I can affirm much more concretely after 24 years. Here is what I wrote on September 6, 1990:

It is true: a single act of perfect love for God is enough. Living one moment in the heart of Jesus is enough. I pray and hope that God is drawing me into His love, and I've experienced a lot in the past quarter century of the "much labor" and the "many sorrows" in life. Learning to love God is, indeed, a work of a lifetime, but its length (like its depth) is hidden in His wisdom. That is where I place my trust.

I still hope to live a "long life," but insofar as this is a reasonable hope today, it has to do primarily with the desire to be there for Eileen and the kids for as long as they need me. In 1990 I had no idea that these particular human beings would be so decisive for my future. My life has been very different than anything I could have imagined. At the same time, some of my goals have been fulfilled, and the investment of considerable time has borne fruit (in ways that I planned, and also in surprising ways).

The family is one of the surprising ways of fruition in my life. Eileen and I both got into the marriage and parental business a little late (as is often the case with people in the academic world). It is a business that requires planning, learning from mistakes, and looking forward even while being open to the continual surprise of real human relationships.

As for the (more or less healthy) remaining years, my first goal now is to be with Eileen and raise these kids, and then the two of us can go back to Italy and just... look at beautiful art together for a long long time. Actually, we'd be happy if the kids (and grandkids?) came with us. But that's just my dream. Only God knows the real plan. In any case, in order to see everyone down to Josefina through adolescence, young adulthood, marriage and grandchildren (if they are called in that direction) and into middle age, I will have to live into my nineties! Given that I have days now when I feel like I'm 90 years old, this prospect is a little overwhelming. Whatever lies ahead, I can only take it one day (indeed one moment) at a time. This present moment is where love is possible.

I have no idea of what the future may bring. There will be joy and there will be suffering. I pray that, holding fast to Jesus, there will be the love that I am called to give, moment by moment. That is what matters. That is what will bear fruit.

Young Man, Do You Want My Advice?

Lots of people who used to be boys have turned into bonafide grownups. These guys have degrees, and growing families, and professional accomplishments. And they still have all their hair!

Its inspiring to see the enthusiasm and dedication of the younger generation. Its a great thing, this energy. I remember the nexus of youthful energy and budding maturity. This is a great time of life.

Thank God for this life, young man. Spend it well, engage reality, build up the good. Be full of gratitude for each day, each moment, for your wife and your little children. Be engaged, but don't get lost in mere activism. Lift up your heart to God in prayer and ask Him to shape you into the person He wills you to be.

So you are turning 27, 28, 29 or even 30, and you think you are "old"? Ah well, you have reached an important mark in your maturity, but the coming years promise to be great and constructive steps in the formation of your own personality, and your development into someone who helps to form others, to pass on the experience of your own life to your children and their generation.

The next twenty-some years, God willing, will be constructive. But that does not mean they will be successful in the sense you may now imagine. I say this not to discourage you, but to assure you that you can live and endure many difficult things and still be enriched, and remain young at heart.

I don't know if I can give you "advice," my young friend. I hope you have your aspirations, love for your wife and family, and a strong commitment to your work. Make sure to be there for your kids as they grow up. And get ready to have some twists and turns--some adventures--over the next twenty-some years.

You have to test your strength, because that's how you learn its limits. I hope you will achieve some things, but I know that you will discover that the horizon of your own life is greater than anything you can reach.

Above all, be faithful to God. Things may get downright crazy. That's one thing that I know from the last  twenty-some years that are now behind me.

My experience shows that pieces may fall into place...and then fall apart! And then come together in a different way, and then there are new challenges.... It's God's plan for your life: follow it, or hang on to it, or crawl in the dark through it, or even get frustrated and say (pray) to God: "What kind of a plan is this? What's the deal here?" Just keep going. Stay with Him. Don't give up.

I hope you enjoy the fruits of your labor, but the seasons will vary, and there will be storms. My wife and I are both academics; we got married later than you (but going on 17 years ago) and still had five kids. I prayed, worked hard and established my career as a college professor, a writer, and an editor. I accomplished many goals. And I loved my work.

Then I got sick.

No matter how we may feel in advance, none of us are ready for a train wreck. We must trust in God, and that can be difficult. Trusting in God is a life-long learning process.

Sometimes you lose the career you love most. Its humiliating. Period. You've been flattened, and its not your fault. But its gonna be along time before you stop blaming. yourself. every. single. day.

And even if, like me, you get to keep your nice fancy professorial title, it doesn't help much, because you're disabled. That's that. You can't do what you want. You have to depend on other people. Humbling.

But God really is at work in you. Even if that brings ZERO consolation, its a fact. Never give up.

And you can't go through this alone. If you suffer, she suffers. But your marriage and family can be (and are meant to be) strengthened by these difficulties. New dimensions of marriage open up, and you both need to work hard, make sacrifices and forgive each other every day for a lot. But if you are faithful, you will discover that the sacramental bond is real, it is inter-personal, it is the grace of Christ's Spirit and it keeps you together, and it is a very tough thing. The sacrament of marriage is strong; it is built to last. You have to depend on it.

Spousal love means so many things that have never even entered your dreams. It will humble you. You will find that there is no place to be selfish in marriage, and this too is a life-long learning process.

Of course, when doors close, windows can open. My wife became a Montessori teacher, she loves it, and (of course) she's really good at it. The "death" of my "established career" ended up being the "birth" of hers. Our kids go to (or have been through) the school. I am well enough right now that I go to the office and help with the students and also do my own work (I refer to myself sometimes as "writer-in-residence" and other times as "interactive media consultant").

You may even surprise yourself by what you do, and where it leads you.

When I got sick, I did was was "natural" for me; I wrote about it. Some friends circulated some of what I wrote, and it eventually landed at a publisher who said, "can you give us more of this?" It ended up being a popular book, published in 2010, that continues to sell and seems to help a lot of people.

I had written academic things, and I had (still have) projects in the works. But I never planned to write a book like Never Give Up, and I almost didn't. It was slow, one step at a time, and "not my idea." I just had the sense that it was God's will, and I just took a step and then another and then another.

The irony is that the book is perhaps the most important work I have done in my life thus far. It turns out that God doesn't believe in "disability." But we have to do things His way.

And we don't know much about that "way". We don't know what's coming. We may all get dumped off the fiscal cliff. We may be washed away by a hurricane, or caught up in a war, or just pushed in new directions by the dramas of children and adolescents becoming young adults. We still have to "plan ahead" as best we can (that's human nature and human responsibility), but the grain is never safe in the bins.

The way this plays out in our circumstances is how God teaches us to trust in Him. But my words about this are not worth much. Trust is a relationship with God that must be lived. It is a relationship that you are able to live.

So live it. Trust God in everything that comes.

The Gift of God is Here and Now

The gift of God is present in every moment.

When we live our often tedious and seemingly uneventful days, we are called to do so not with a merely stoic resignation, but with abandonment to His loving presence.  We endure in the conviction that God offers us His love—the only fulfillment of the human heart—here and now, in the midst of our sufferings and the plodding of our daily lives.

We are called to put our hearts on the line, to allow ourselves to be wounded by the hope that even in this darkness it is possible to love and to be loved, because He is with us and He loves us now.  And we know that His love, ultimately, is always worth the risk.

Putting Up With Another "Dull Day"?

Have you ever tried to "offer up" a dull day?

Sometimes the challenge is just the fact that today is pretty much the same as yesterday...and that nothing happened yesterday! Should you just be resigned to put up with it?

"Dear Lord, I offer you my stiff upper lip...."

Hmmm. I think that we are invited to go further than that in making an "offering" of this day. God is here. Of course, we're not going to feel amazed about Him all the time. Especially since He so often conceals Himself in the ordinary, the small, the humble things, the stuff that happens over and over again.

Let's "offer" this day, and so open ourselves up to the slow and gentle work that He is doing with time, and things, and even our sense of frustration. He wants to give us true and lasting joy.

If we loosen the lips, they may find their way to a smile.