Saturday, September 25, 2010

I'm leavin on a jet plane...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost (1874-1963)

I doubt that any of us are strangers to this classical poem. We have heard it many times growing up. It has become a classic because virtually every reader can relate to the experience of being at a crossroads in life. The poem meant something for me in middle school when I first read it. It took on more meaning in high school as I struggled to decide what university I would attend. Again, the poem meant something different as I wrestled with the idea of either going to medical school or fulfilling my dream and becoming a police officer. I admit the poem wasn’t exactly on my mind as I struggled with the decisions: to leave the criminal investigation division to go back to patrol, to leave the police department, to begin working for the Church, to leave my comfortable life for seminary, to accept or reject certain offers on my house that remained on the market for fifteen months.

No, I can’t say that I always referred to classical poetry when I made a decision. As I grew older I began to learn methods of discernment and how to bring my major decisions before God in prayer. I learned to wrestle with my decisions until I reached a sense of peace that my course of action was in line with God’s will. As much as I have grown in my discernment abilities, there have been, and still are times, when I simply pick a path and get to walking. As I walk down the strange and unfamiliar path I sometimes second-guess myself. I begin to worry. I realize that this path is overgrown (lack of travelers) and at times the path is full of thorns and thickets that scratch and cut as you walk through them. Sometimes the path less traveled is not to be glorified as the path of an independent thinker who is willing to be counter-cultural and has a great sense of adventure as Frost describes in his poem.

More often than not, when I find myself on an unfamiliar path these days, I am reminded of something that I learned in my philosophy studies. In his work De Caelo (On Heaven) (I,5), Aristotle states, “The least initial deviation from the truth is multiplied later a thousandfold.” Less you panic because I am quoting a pagan philosopher, I offer you St. Thomas Aquinas’ version in De Ente et Essentia (On Being and Essence), as he states “a little error in the beginning leads to a great one in the end.” While these two quotes have all sorts of implications for our need to properly form our moral consciences and seek out Truth in all that we do, I will try to restrict their implications to the discussion at hand. With both of these quotes in mind, how does Frost even begin to take a single step down one of the two paths? What if he is wrong? What then? What if he does not realize the small mistake he made in the beginning that leads him to a great error in the end? What if the decision he is making ruins the rest of his life? What if the decision he makes in not God’s will?

Can you hear the fear in these questions? Can you hear the lack of trust in the providence of God? Let me very reverently say that I not only hear them, but I have felt them. Less you be quick to judge me, I think I can safely say that we all have. It doesn’t make us unfaithful Christians. It makes us human. So, how then do we ever make some of those life changing decisions, big and small, with some sort of confidence? I offer you the following analogy that was partially given to me by my spiritual director this past summer. I have added to it and have made it my own but I simply trimmed back the branches. The planted seed came from him:

Have you ever been sitting on a plane prior to leaving the gate and looked out the window? There are all sorts of people in jump suits that are working frantically at their various tasks in order to prepare the plane for its flight. Some are providing the fuel. Others are loading food and beverages. Still others are loading baggage onto the plane. Amidst all these people who complete their jobs with such ease that you know it has become routine for them, there is one man or woman who walks among them that sticks out like a sore thumb. The man (I am going to use the masculine gender from here on for ease of writing. I do not mean to exclude females from this position) is wearing a starched white shirt and a tie. He carefully walks around the plane somewhat oblivious to those around him. He checks out every piece of the plane to make sure that all is in proper working condition and the plane is ready to fly. He may pull on the wing, wiggle the flaps, or kick the tires. He goes through a checklist that is by no means routine. He makes sure that everything is where it is supposed to be or else the plane never leaves the ground. There is nothing that will cause this man to skip parts of his list and assume that all is okay. He is diligent in his efforts because he knows that “a little error in the beginning leads to a great one in the end.”

By now you have probably assumed that I am talking about the pilot of the plane. While that assumption will work, I am actually talking about the co-pilot. Usually, it is the co-pilot who does the walk around. The point of the analogy is that the co-pilot always makes sure that things are in order before the plane takes off. If he finds a problem, he calls someone else who is more qualified to fix it. If he doesn’t find a problem, he tells the pilot it is time for both of them to fly the plane together. Now, for the sake of the analogy put yourself in the role of the co-pilot. The decision to fly is any one of the minor or major decisions that you are faced with in your everyday life. Let’s fill in the rest of the roles to wrap this up.

We all know what the baggage is that has been loaded onto our plane for us to carry. Sometimes the bags that have been checked are our own and we have put them ourselves. Other times the bags belong to someone else and yet we are still asked to carry them. So far I have not yet mentioned the passengers although they play an important role. We all have passengers in our lives that fly with us. They may be friends, family, parishioners, or complete strangers. The point is, that as the co-pilot, we make our decisions the best we can based upon our assessment of the situation. Our assessment is informed, however, by our education, past experience, and prayer. We realize that we are under the guidance and teaching of the pilot (perhaps God, perhaps our priest), we fly the plane. Notice that I did not say anything about the emotional condition of the passengers. Sure there are some on the plane that are afraid to fly. There are some on the plane who become anxious at the slightest bit of turbulence. There are some who question your ability to spot a problem with the plane’s mechanics. There are some who will complain not matter how smooth the flight is. There are some who fail to pay attention to the many signs that tell them prior to getting on the plane where the flight is headed and yet they get on the plane thinking that they can insist upon it going to some other place. There are those who sit in first class and others that sit in coach. However the safe arrival of all of them is equally our concern. There are even some who may have intentions of bringing the plane down altogether. However, and most importantly, there are those who walk by the cockpit after the plane has landed, smile, and say, “Thanks for the nice flight. I look forward to flying with you again.”

One more thing, the co-pilot doesn’t fly alone. Not only does he fly with someone in the left-hand seat, but he consults his charts (Scripture), air-traffic controllers and ground handlers (Spiritual Directors and wise friends), weather reports (let’s hope he has a better weatherman than we do), but perhaps most importantly, the experience of the pilots and co-pilots who have gone before him on other flights. While sometimes we may choose the path less traveled, it is important to listen to those who have gone down the path before. They make us aware of cross winds, weather systems in our path, wind shear, etc. Some of those people may just be other pilots who are now your passengers. Listen to them. Take their guidance, but in the end, the decision is yours. You must choose to fly the plane. You must trust your walk-around of the situation and fly to the best of your abilities. There comes a time when you close the cockpit door so that you can concentrate on flying the plane. But remember, that door has to open again at some point and you will have to face your passengers. My point is, you can’t let their anxiety keep you from flying the plane or else no one ever moves. You have to choose: fly or don’t fly. As a wise man and a dear loved one used to say, “The choice is yours, choose well.”

As for me:

All my bags are packed. I’m ready to go.
I’m standin’ here outside your door…

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go….

Sing it with me!

Pax tecum,
Tom

Friday, September 10, 2010

My Kind of Friday

Oh my how life has changed! First of all I apologize for not posting last week. I am still getting settled into life at St. Mary’s. The hockey analogy still applies but progress is being made. I am slowly becoming more comfortable with the schedule and am developing a routine. However, one of the main goals of seminary formation is to help you become more flexible with your time. With that in mind there have been several last minute schedule changes and unanticipated interruptions. I am slowly learning to take these interruptions in stride. In addition to learning to be flexible, I am learning to find those quiet moments that are few and far between and take good advantage of them. Tonight is one of those times.

As I write this entry I am sitting at my desk in my room on a Friday evening. I began my day at 7am with Mass and Morning Prayer followed by breakfast. I then gathered with the guys on my floor for group formation class. This class is where we spend time with our priest-formation advisor discussing various aspects of priesthood. Primarily we talk about the human formation aspects in terms of time management, developing a healthy prayer life, proper recreation, and how to take care of ourselves in general. The second hour of the class was spent practicing proclaiming the Word of God and singing. Yep, I had to get up on stage in front of my classmates and sing a cappella. Let’s just say it is a humbling experience and I have much work to do in terms of training my voice. If you know of a good voice coach let me know. I really would rather not inflict my voice in its current state on the people of God. We all have enough to deal with already.

After formation we had a rector’s conference. This is where the Rector speaks to the entire community about various issues. He gives us updates about the seminary in general and then gives us a little “pep-talk.” Today, he spoke to us about spending time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament and developing a strong devotion to the Eucharist.

The afternoon was spent doing what we call “Work Order.” This is a time when all the seminarians break into different groups in order to clean and maintain the campus. For me this meant cleaning a set of toilets and showers on one floor and vacuuming a hallway. I did not mind doing the work because I appreciate a clean bathroom as much as the next guy. Thankfully, it was much better than my experience of emptying Port-a-Potties when I was fifteen!

After work order, I went to the gym in order to work out. Due to changes in the schedule I have not been able to exercise all that much this week. It felt great to work out. I treated myself to Subway for an early dinner. For those of you that don’t know I am probably a bigger Subway fan than their spokesman Jared. I could eat the same sandwich everyday and not get tired. I had a minor setback with the weight-loss this past weekend but am still at minus 35 pounds since January. Keep your prayers coming.

Following dinner, I returned to the seminary and spent an hour with Jesus in one of our small chapels. I really enjoyed my time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. It was a great way to bring my day and my week to a close. Spending that time in prayer reminded me of my post a few weeks ago on developing a palate of prayer. So, strictly as part of my spiritual formation, I returned to my room and poured myself a glass of wine. It is my first glass of the year and I am enjoying it quite a bit (don’t worry…one is all I will have). I am listening to Stan Getz (Jazz) and writing to you.

If you would have told me several years ago that this is how I would choose to spend a Friday night I probably would have laughed at you. And yet, I find myself to be relaxed, content, and I dare say happy. I am immensely grateful that God has brought me to this point in my life. While I am excited to see what else He has in store, for tonight, I am going to sit and enjoy what He has already given me. I invite you to do the same.

I am taking tomorrow off. That means no school work, no laundry, and anything else that I would typically consider “productive.” To some of you, that does not seem like much of a break through, but for some of you who know me, you know that it is a big step. I can only take these steps in formation with the grace I receive from your prayers. So, if I have not said it in a while, thank you (as I raise my glass in a toast). Please continue to pray for me and my brother seminarians. Rest assured, you remain in our prayers.

Pax Tecum,
Tom