Saturday, March 31, 2012

Two Catholic Principles

If you grew up poor, but proud, you might recall the feeling of knowing that some things could not be taken away from you--at least not without some kind of violence. If you didn't have nice clothes or a nice house, or most anything nice, you might still have a family that you loved. It may have been difficult if not impossible to maintain a healthy self-respect, but maybe you mustered something that felt a little like it.

If you lived around people with more money than your family, you might have carried a bit of chip on your shoulder. Perhaps you were jealous at times and envied other people, but maybe, just maybe you wouldn't have traded your family for anything and the things you held most dear. Maybe you had honest decent parents or siblings or a wonderful grandmother that you loved.

Despite how bad or even humiliated you felt by your own poverty, you had this sense that at the most fundamental level, you were just as good as anyone else. You thought "God loves me just as much as anyone else. God loves poor people."

In some ways you had two guiding principles. One, that if you lived as God intended you, that as poor as you were, you could be rich. In fact you could be richer than even rich people in your place with God. You thought God would love you and take care of you in the end--and some day you would be successful. You would make your mark and in some way make the sacrifices that you and other people made for you pay off. You would know that being rich wasn't so important, even if you became rich. But being good in the eyes of God was very important.

If you went to Catholic school, the Sisters often emphasized that being poor was no sin. They also taught you to put your coins in the little mission bank and your quarters in the church envelopes. Give if you can--and "that but by the grace of God could be you" in one of those impoverished countries.

The second guiding principle you had was that no one could take away the value of you--your soul. You knew that your body was your body and no one else could own it. No one could take away your human dignity and you had things that you would never sell to the richest person on earth. If you had children this thought became more powerful. If you had a beautiful or talented or athletic child, you knew that no one could buy that child. No amount of money could force you to sell something so precious as your child. And no amount of money could ever be a tiny percentage of the value of that child. If you were poor, you probably understood this better than anyone because you understood it at the most base level. Maybe your child was part of a team or in a school band or a choir-- and your child was wonderful. Maybe your child was not so wonderful, but that child still made you proud. Maybe at the same time, you wished you could have given them better clothes or more music lessons or better athletic training. Somehow the world may seem unfair at times, but at its most basic level, you could have a family of love and support. On the one hand, you might complain to the Man upstairs about finances or your job or your lack of job, but you would still thank him and know that when it came to those around you, you wouldn't trade them for a million dollars.

Poverty is appalling as are so many other things. We have men who can produce many babies, but not care of any of them. We have women who can conceive babies and terminate them. And we have women who want babies, but don't want to carry them--not because they can't, but because they want to maintain their figure. I believe there are tremendous graces to be had by a woman who carries and delivers a child. I believe there are connections that go beyond even those that we see with mothers.

I have seen in my own life and the life of those around us that God values the soul above all else. Regardless of how a baby is born, grace is with that child and that child is loved by God. God does not discriminate against a baby. But the idea that we could muck things up so badly on the child's journey is frightening yet it happens every day. And I believe that God has great love for mothers--mothers of all kinds--sinners and saints. Even if a mother has terminated the life of her baby, that baby's soul lives on--and God loves both mother and child in all circumstances.

I suppose in some ways, we grow comfortable in our sins and it is easy to point at the sins of others. It's funny though because as a parent, I know the things that bother me the most about my own kids are the weaknesses that they have picked up from their own father. Sometimes it takes the example of one of my kids, for me to see my own faults. Somehow I know we are individual souls and yet we are all connected as well. We sin individually and our individual sins affect the entire family under God. I can't help but feel that when a young frightened girl terminates her pregnancy, we must all share the sin--she cannot bear it all by herself. After all, we have all contributed to our quick fix world of pills and procedures that take care of every problem.

Life is messy and life will always be a struggle.

I'll say a little prayer now for all of us sinners who have a hard time seeing our faults. And I'll say another prayer for mothers of every kind. Regardless of what you do, the Good Lord will always love you and your babies. Please remember that, regardless of what you have done, the Lord will always love you--don't let anyone tell you different including yourself. It's never too late to love life and the life that we call me. If God loves you, you should love yourself. God Bless.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Happy St. Patrick's Day


I hope you all enjoy the day and find strength in the example of St. Patrick. I know his humility, his prayer and his sacrifice have added much to my own journey.