Saturday, July 24, 2010

"Clean your room!"

These were three of my least favorite words to hear when I was growing up. During the summer I would often hear my mother tell my brother and I, “By the time I get home from work I want your room clean.” When my brother and I shared a room we would spend more time arguing about to whom the mess belonged than if we just worked together to clean up the mess. As I got older and had my own room there was no one else I could blame the mess on. However, just because I knew it was my mess that did not mean that I had sufficient motivation to clean it up as soon as I was asked. Instead I would wait for mom to call and tell us that she was on her way home before I started “cleaning.” As soon as I hung up the phone the flight of the bumblebee began. I frantically shoved clothes (clean or dirty it didn’t matter) into drawers and hid toys in my closet. Of course, there was no fooling mom. She knew my tricks. She wasted no time in opening the closet doors, desk drawers, dresser drawers, etc. to discover my feeble attempts to hide the mess.

In college, neither my roommate nor I was overly concerned about keeping the room clean. When you ran out of clothes you simply turned over the pile and started from the bottom (ok I am exaggerating a little but not by much). The point is we were free. There was no one there to tell us to clean up our mess. Of course, living in a college dorm you always know when someone’s parents are coming to visit. You begin to hear these strange sounds coming from their room. One of the noises is a loud machine-like whirring that lasts for about ten to fifteen minutes. The other is a periodic hissing noise that sounds like air escaping from a bicycle tire. There is a strange smell of lemon or pine replacing the odors we had been accustomed to. Of course, over time you learn that the sounds are caused by a vacuum cleaner and a can of Pledge spray. Whenever you heard, saw, or smelled these things there was only one conclusion to draw, the parents are coming.

After college, as I lived with roommates in an apartment or a house, I developed a different level of cleanliness. I always insisted on keeping the public areas of the house clean. I would make sure the dishes were done and would even sweep, mop, vacuum, and dust regularly. I didn’t want anyone to think that I lived like a pig. My room, however, was another story. My room was never dirty but it was almost always messy and disorganized. I knew where everything was but there was no way someone else could safely navigate the hazardous piles of stuff left in my room. Not much changed when I bought my own home. The public areas were kept clean and I took fairly good care of the lawn. However, the door to my room remained closed. After all, I was single and celibate. What did it matter what my room looked like? That was no one else’s business but my own.

As I left for seminary, I would like to tell you that all of my bad habits were purified. However, you could always tell how my semester was going by the condition of my room. By the end of the semester the mess in my room would accumulate. Papers, books, clothes, etc. would begin to pile up as I no longer thought I had time to clean my room. I would rather live in the mess than find the time to clean it. The funny thing is that no matter how messy my room would get, I always made my bed in the morning. I don’t know what to make of that. Whenever I would leave for an extended break I would spend a great deal of time cleaning and organizing my room. I remember growing up that whenever we would go on vacation my mom would spend quite a few hours cleaning every inch of the house before we left. She always said that she cleaned it for two reasons. The first was that if something happened to us on vacation she did not want anyone to think that we kept a dirty house (sorry mom for letting the secret out). The second reason was that it made her feel good to come home to a clean house. It was this second reason that kept me cleaning my room before I left the seminary for more than a few days.

I want to share just a few more thoughts about cleaning before I get to the point. Drawing from my own experience with hiding my mess, I learned as a police officer how much people will reveal to you if you simply watch them. Often times the person will stand in between you and whatever the person does not want you to find. They will often point subconsciously to the ‘mess’ with their eyes and their body language. I now understood how my mother always knew where to find my ‘mess.’ I also realized over time that I knew I was comfortable with another person when I didn’t even bother trying to straighten up before inviting them to my house. I didn’t have to put on a show. They could call and say they were five minutes from the house and I didn’t immediately go into flight of the bumblebee mode. I was comfortable with them seeing my ‘mess.’

Take a minute and re-read this reflection but replace the word ‘room’ with ‘soul’ and you will understand my point. There are many ‘messes’ in our life. Some of them we try to clean regularly. Some of them we simply try to hide under the bed or in a drawer. We compartmentalize them from the rest of our life. After all they are no one else’s business but our own. They don’t hurt anyone but me, right? Sometimes we spend a great deal of time and effort cleaning up a 'mess' only to have it reappear. We get so tired of cleaning the same 'mess' over and over that we are tempted to give up and resign ourselves to living in the 'mess.' With great reverence and charity I dare to say that for some of us, it has been so long since we have properly cleaned our ‘rooms’ (i.e. Act of Contrition, Sacrament of Reconciliation, etc.) that we have forgotten what the vacuum and the dusting spray sound like. Some of us choose to go into the frantic mode of straightening up when we find out that the Father is on His way to see us or better yet, we are on our way to see Him. Some of us pride ourselves on the fact that at least our house is not as messy as our neighbors. We spend a lot of time pointing out the mess in other people’s lives. (See Luke Ch.6)

The thing is, when we go to see the Father, whether at Mass, adoration, a retreat, work, the kids’ soccer practice, or a friend’s home for dinner, we bring our mess with us. There is no point in hiding it from Him who sees everything. I am reminded of the psalmist’s words, “O Lord, you have probed me and you know me; you know when I sit and when I stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. My journeys and my rest you scrutinize, with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it. Behind me and before, you hem me in and rest your hand upon me…Where can I go from your spirit? From your presence where can I flee? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I sink to the nether world, you are present there…” (Psalm 139).

This summer I have spent a great deal of time cleaning my ‘room’. I am opening the dresser drawers, looking under the bed, and finding all of those messes that I have tried to hide to give the appearance of cleanliness. Most of these ‘messes’ are nothing more than dust on a shelf and yet the Lord is asking me to give them to Him. I have searched my heart and allowed God to probe my inmost being to find those things that need to be brought to Him so that I can be healed. To be honest, I don’t like cleaning my ‘room’ now anymore than I did as a child. The point I want to share with you is that not every ‘mess’ needs to be cleaned before we welcome Jesus into our ‘rooms’. As a matter of fact, Jesus is waiting for us to invite Him into the ‘messes’ of our life. After all, Jesus is a gentleman who awaits our invitation. He will not force His way into our ‘room’. He will not take back the freedom He has purchased for us with His own body and blood. As I learn to be comfortable with Jesus amidst my ‘mess,’ I am coming to realize, like the lesson I learned from working together with my brother to clean our room, the job is easier when I allow Jesus to help me clean.

Whatever the ‘mess’ might be in your life (i.e. marital problems, cancer, loss of a loved one, a habitual sin, loss of a job, change in a relationship, feelings of being unlovable, feelings of low self-worth, pride, etc.) invite Jesus to be with you in the ‘mess.’ Then together, along with the Blessed Mother and the saints, allow Jesus to help you in cleaning your ‘room.’ After all, there will come a time when you will have to return home from this journey (we all know it’s not always a vacation!) in a foreign land. What a joy it is to come home to a clean house!

Please continue to pray for me as all of you remain in my daily prayers.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Monday, July 12, 2010

Gifts Wrapped in Many Layers

I remember growing up that I loved to receive gifts. I loved to rip open the wrapping paper and find out what was inside. Many times I struggled to contain my excitement and wonder at what sort of amazing toy was hidden underneath the different styles of wrapping paper. Birthdays were always the best because the presents appeared that day and I got to open them almost immediately.

Christmas, on the other hand, was pure torture. My mom and dad would set the wrapped presents (except the ones that Santa brought of course) underneath the tree as they wrapped them in the days leading up to Christmas. We kids would often stealthily make our way to the presents when no one was looking in order to carefully inspect them. We would shake, squeeze, feel, and weigh the package to see if we could match it up to an item that we had placed on our list. My mom used to get upset on Christmas morning when she would hand us a package and we would immediately say, “I know what this one is!” She often accused us of ruining Christmas with our guessing games. I never realized it back then that my mother’s real joy in giving us the gift was to watch the look on our face as we unwrapped the present. Her gift was watching the smile on our faces and seeing her children full of happiness.

My mom then got creative in the way she packaged our presents. One year my mom gave one of the kids a small Fisher Price toy crane. I can’t remember whose gift it was originally but mom saved the box and then used it to package other gifts in the years to come. Every year after that one of us would open the gift and be confused for a minute thinking we received a toy crane. Everyone else who was in on the secret would laugh as the real gift was hidden inside the box. Eventually we all knew the secret and took turns using the box to hide our gifts over the years. I am not sure whatever happened to that box but the memory has stuck with me. Nowadays, I rarely spend time wrapping gifts and sometimes just hand them over to people. However, I still love to receive a wrapped present as part of the gift is finding out what is hidden underneath the paper.

This weekend I received an assortment of gifts all of which were wrapped in many layers. I want to share with you the experience of unwrapping these gifts and the joy that I felt once I recognized the gifts that I had received. My hope is that you will be able to un-wrap a few experiences in your life and find the gift that awaits your discovery.

Friday afternoon I arrived at the airport in Omaha, NE, full of anticipation as I was heading home to College Station for my pastor’s 25th Anniversary of Ordination to the Priesthood. As the plane began its descent into the Dallas/Ft. Worth the captain announced that due to bad weather at the airport we would divert to Tulsa, OK. We landed in Tulsa safely and waited patiently for our turn to fuel up the plane. After an hour of waiting on the tarmac we pulled into the gate. The plane was refueled and then we learned that weather had once again closed the airport. When we finally got clearance to depart for DFW a mechanical problem was discovered. We sat on the plane for another two hours before they decided to change planes. By this time I had missed my connection to Austin and was trying to figure out what I would do. I called some friends in Dallas and left a message for them to call me as I thought I might be stranded in Dallas for the night. We arrived in Dallas at 11PM. By the grace of God my friend was near the airport and came to pick me up (the first gift!). As my friend and I arrived at his apartment his fiancée had already prepared a place for me to sleep in the living room. Despite the delays and the unplanned stop in Dallas my mood was pretty upbeat. I was happy to visit with my friend and his fiancée and share with them the many graces I have received this summer. After four short hours of sleep I was headed back to the airport to catch the first flight to College Station.

I arrived in College Station at 10:15 AM. I was enthusiastically greeted at the airport by a dear friend who then drove me immediately to St. Thomas Aquinas Church. I arrived at the church twenty minutes before Mass began. I was worried about being on time as I had been asked to be a lector. As I sat down to pray before the Mass began I was already exhausted. I asked God to help me proclaim His word in a worthy manner and to sustain me throughout the day. As I sat down in the pew after the reading I thought of how much I enjoyed being a lector and how much I have missed it since I have been in seminary (another unexpected gift!). The Mass was absolutely beautiful and a fitting celebration of one man’s twenty-five year commitment to bringing Christ to others as well as the eternal priesthood of Jesus Christ.

I spent the next two hours at the reception visiting with many friends and parishioners. It seemed that every time I finished talking to someone another appeared in their place. While I enjoyed the conversations I will admit to you that I was tired, hungry, and thirsty. My feet hurt and my back was killing me from being on the plane the night before. Despite these feelings I was thrilled to visit with these friends (another gift!). My only regret is that I did not get to spend more time with them.

After the reception I made my way over to my best friend’s house to meet his newborn son. I was in Omaha when he was born and he was now a month old. My friend was at work but I was able to visit his wife and son. I brought a gift (a stuffed animal) for my friend’s daughter but she was taking a nap and neither I nor her mother wanted to wake her. I was disappointed that I would not get to see her on this trip. I cannot explain to you how much it warmed my heart to sit and hold my friend’s newborn son. It was truly a gift! After about thirty minutes, I realized that I had not eaten since 6AM and needed to go get some lunch.

After lunch I spent some time in the adoration chapel at my parish. I was exhausted as I collapsed in the pew. I fell into deep meditation (i.e. sleep) before the Blessed Sacrament. I hope I was not snoring and bothering those who had gathered to pray. When I opened my eyes twenty minutes later I received another gift but I am going to save that one for later as this post is already too long. After my holy hour I went back to the Church to attend the vigil Mass as I would be traveling all day Sunday and unable to get to Mass. I was happy to hear that our new parochial vicar was celebrating his first weekend Mass at the parish (another gift!). After Mass I attended a dinner party with my pastor and several friends and parishioners.

I finally left the party at 10PM and then met my best friend at his work. There have been many changes in both of our lives that have prevented us from spending much time with one another. I only got to visit with him for about thirty minutes but I appreciated every one of them. I told him I would see him in a month and then headed for home. When I arrived home I was greeted by who I consider to be my little brother. We talked for about fifteen minutes. The time was short but much was said. I finally collapsed in bed at midnight. It had been a full day but one that was full of love and gift.

The alarm clock went off entirely too soon on Sunday morning. I got up, showered, packed, printed my boarding passes and had a nice breakfast with the family. Due to the change in my travel plans I did not have a way to get to the airport in Austin for my 12:50 PM flight. Rose, the mom, offered to drive me to the airport. This was an unexpected gift as it gave us almost two hours to visit and discuss many things. Had things gone according to the original plan we would not have had this time to visit.

After arriving at the airport in Austin I went through security and tried to get on an earlier flight to Dallas. Not only was there no room on the earlier flight but I learned that my original flight had been canceled due to a mechanical problem. I called the airline and was rebooked on a flight to Chicago later that day. Now I knew who God wanted me to see when I was stuck in Dallas but I couldn’t think of anyone in Chicago that God would want me to visit. I spent the next six hours in the Austin airport. I exchanged many texts and phone calls with people as I informed them of the new plans. I treated myself to some Salt Lick BBQ and Amy’s ice cream for lunch (things only a true Austinite can appreciate). My best friend then sent me a text of a picture of his daughter who slept with the stuffed animal I had given her. It made my day and made the stay in the airport a little easier. When I finally arrived in Chicago I learned that my connecting flight to Omaha would be delayed due to another mechanical problem. We switched aircraft and moved to a different gate. At this point the skies opened up and the airport was shut down for a few hours due to weather. I couldn’t help but laugh. If there was a gift in this experience God used the entire roll of wrapping paper and several toy crane boxes to hide it. I tried to remain as positive as possible as we finally boarded our flight and headed home.

I arrived in Omaha at 11:40PM. I was beat. I was exhausted. I was a tad bit impatient. I collapsed in my bed knowing that I had an early wake up call. As I sat before Mass this morning I thought to myself of all the gifts that I received this weekend. I could have easily spent all this time complaining about the many difficulties but I share them with you only in the hopes that you will see what God showed me. In the midst of all these unplanned changes, struggles, inconveniences, etc. God blessed with many amazing gifts. He allowed me to love and be loved. He allowed me to be with some of the people I love the most. I was happy as I felt that I had lived the weekend well. There were many crosses but you cannot have the resurrection without the cross. Two phrases come to my mind. One of them is from Sacred Scripture “Without cost you have received, without cost you are to give” (Mt 10:8) and from a less sacred source, “I could have missed the pain, but then I’d have to miss the dance.” After communion, the greatest gift of all, I thought how God must have been watching me, his child, open the many gifts that He had so carefully wrapped for me this weekend. He patiently waited for my response as at first I did not recognize the gifts. Finally, this morning as I truly discovered the gifts, my heart was full of joy and God, like my mother, no doubt enjoyed seeing the look on my face.

The point I want to share is that each day we are presented with our crosses. I now see in a new way how joy can come from embracing those crosses and striving to carry them well. I don’t mean to make myself sound like some overly pious guy who always gets it right. I just finally got through the last layer of paper and want to share the gifts with you.

Pax Tecum,
Tom