What does discipline have to do with love?

Back in June, I attended a young adult retreat/conference in Chicago called Catholics on Call. The folks in charge often have alumnae write reflections for upcoming mass readings, and I was privileged to be able to write one this week. I'm reproducing the reflection below; the CoC site (with links to many thought-provoking reflections) can be found here.

Scripture Readings: Isaiah 66:18-21; Psalm 117:1,2; Hebrews 12:5-7, 11-13; Luke 13:22-30

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I have to admit that when I first read this gospel passage, I felt like Jesus was being kind of harsh. I kept picturing Jesus standing at the gates of heaven with his arms crossed, bouncer-like, turning people away left and right. In my opinion, it didn’t seem very loving of Jesus to let so many people be cast out – to be left standing outside the doors of salvation. Isn’t He supposed to be merciful? Wouldn’t a loving savior let everyone in?

But then I think back to a time in my own life – a time just a few months ago, when I had the privilege of serving as long term substitute for five sections of seventh grade science (yikes!). Over a six-week period, each student was responsible for maintaining an “Interactive Science Notebook,” which was to contain all of their assignments, and which would be turned in for a major grade on the last day of school.

Throughout the six weeks, I worked as hard as I could to help the students keep their notebooks together. I allowed them ample time to complete assignments, reminding them at the end of each class to glue all work into their “Handy Dandy Notebooks!” (Yes, we did this as a class, Blues Clues style). I enjoined them over and over again to be responsible with their notebooks, to keep them in proper order, and to be disciplined with their work habits.

I bet you can guess the ending to the story. When the last day of school finally came, I had droves of students lining up at my desk to beg for mercy. “Mr. Paris! It’s not fair!” “Mr. Paris, can I PLEASE have another copy of the animal cell diagram?!” “Mr. Paris, I was absent four weeks ago! Wahh!”

I could have given in to the whining, the begging. I could have simply “let everyone in.” But that would not have been the truly loving thing to do. The truly loving teacher is one who cares for his students, wants them to learn from their mistakes, to develop discipline in their work habits, to freely choose the right path in their academic lives and follow it wholeheartedly. Because in the end, that decision matters so much more than a grade.

So it is with the Christian life. Jesus desires nothing more than for us to freely choose to follow Him, and to work diligently to grow closer to Him – living lives of prayer, virtue, and discipline. He expects a lot from us! In so many places throughout scripture, including today’s passage from Hebrews, Christ’s love is revealed not as a “permissive” love, but a “tough” love. St. Paul writes,

“Whom [The Lord] loves, he disciplines…Endure your trials as ‘discipline;’ God treats you as sons.”

Wow. These few lines reveal so much about the nature of God’s love. He disciplines us as a father disciplines His sons, or as a teacher disciplines His students. Despite our sins, He truly loves us and desires our happiness more than we desire it ourselves.

Let’s be real, folks. Discipline is a word that sends chills down the spine of children everywhere, and I’m pretty sure most adults don’t much like the sound of it either. Paul gets this. He writes, “At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain.” Discipline hurts! Discipline in the spiritual life requires us to live virtue; to pray diligently; to seek the sacraments often; to practice purity in our relationships; to deny ourselves daily, crucifying our hedonistic desires for worldly pleasures and riches. Discipline ain’t easy.

But it is our call. Because it is in living an ordered, disciplined life – a life grounded in prayer – that we allow God to free us from the shackles of our sinful nature, and to welcome us into a deeper, more fruitful relationship with Him. Jesus invites us to be disciplined, because He wants to share with us the beautiful mystery of intimacy with Him – an intimacy which can be achieved only through selfless devotion. Christ Himself reminds us in today’s Gospel: “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.” I believe he uses the word “strong” for a reason. It is through order, prayer, and the sacraments, that God will give us the grace which strengthens our souls.

And though the disciplined life is difficult, in time we will begin to experience the joy of a deeper union with Christ. Paul’s earlier statement about the pain of discipline continues: “…Yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.” There is a great sense of peace to be found in a life of discipline. I have had but small tastes of this peace, but it’s enough to keep me striving, every day, to be a man of greater virtue than I was the day before.

Let us embrace Christ’s call to order, discipline, and prayer – so that we may someday enter through that “narrow gate,” straight into the open arms of Christ.

Finding the middle ground on happiness

"I can't WAIT to get out of here." For the overwhelming majority of students at my high school, this was the prevailing attitude. I can still remember meeting in the band hallway before first period, a bright and early 7:00am. We would all just sit there, zombie-like, our eyes glazed over from lack of sleep. Every once in a while, someone would utter something peppy, like "It's too early to be here," or "I hate my life."

All we wanted was to get out. High school was horrible, terrible, the worst thing that could ever happen to us. Despite the fact that none of us had any idea what life would be like outside of it, we knew that ANYTHING would be an improvement. And so we pressed onward toward graduation, always with that same get-out attitude: "Life will be better when we're somewhere else." "Once this is over, THEN we'll be happy."

A few months into college, I realized that this was not a healthy way of thinking. I came to W&M buying into that idea that being in a new place with new people would bring me happiness. At first, this seemed to ring true. A fact I don't often mention is that for the first few weeks of college, I was ecstatic. It was exciting and new, and the future was so bright.

But despite the fact that I was in a new environment, I was still the old me. I had brought all of my faults and imperfections with me. As those honeymoon days began to fade away, I started noticing that I was having the same problems, and making the same mistakes, as I had in high school. It finally dawned on me that I couldn't expect a change of location to fix all my problems. If I wanted to be happy and become a better person, I needed to work on developing myself - becoming a man of solid character - and that was something I should be able to do anywhere, regardless of my environment. I had flipped from holding the belief that happiness depended on "getting out" to the belief that it relied on "developing myself, regardless of where I am or who I'm with."

As time goes on, I'm beginning to realize that these matters are never so simple. After spending almost a year entrenched in the process of "working on myself," in the absence of any consistent community (i.e. almost totally on my own), it's hitting me that happiness hasn't come yet. (What gives?!) I can feel myself coming to a sort of middle ground; that while I don't believe it's beneficial to live our lives "wanting to get out" (as some so hopelessly do throughout their entire lives - in school, work, even families, always thinking "the next thing will be better"), there are some elements external to ourselves, like community, and making use of our true gifts, that we truly do need to nourish us and help us grow. I've been living so stubbornly against the "gotta get out" mentality that I've tried to FORCE myself to be happy while living a life that is simply not fulfilling: living with my parents, working as a substitute teacher, and seeing friends only rarely.

I look forward to next year -- not because I "need to get out" of Northern VA, as if there is some curse on this place that is draining the life out of me. No, I look forward to the change because I know I'll be living life differently. I'll be studying under inspiring professors, meeting other faithful Catholics my own age, snowboarding a lot :-), and ideally working a job that uses my talents. And while I realize that I could find most of those things here in the DC area if I searched hard enough, I can't shake the feeling that a brand new adventure is awaiting me in the foothills of Denver.

Peter's Denial

When reflecting on Christ's passion around this time of year, I'm always bothered by the part where Peter denies Jesus three times (even AFTER Jesus warns him that he's going to do so). I think it's because we naturally expect MORE from Peter. He's been with Jesus for the entirety of his ministry. He's one of his most dedicated and beloved disciples. And so we kind of expect him to "pass the test" at the end - we want to see that he's got the courage to stand up and say, "Yes, I know Jesus, and he is the Messiah!" - even if it means he'll be crucified for it. This kind of ending would make so much more sense to us - it would just "fit."

But that's not what happens. Alongside Judas, who outright betrays Jesus, Peter denies that he knows him three times. I find myself wondering - How can he be so weak? How can he be of so little faith? I can't help but feel kind of angry at Peter. Come on, man. All you had to do was stick up for the guy, and maybe things would have happened differently. You spent three years following him. You listened to his teachings. You walked on water. How could you choke in this moment when it really mattered? How could you blow the game by missing the last shot right before the buzzer?

I think what bothers me the most about it is that I see myself in Peter. So often I feel as though I put so much time and effort into working on my spiritual life, diligently striving to pursue virtue and let go of detachment to sin - and so often I feel as though this effort is really paying off, that I really am becoming a "better Christian." But when God really puts me to the test, when He really throws me into tough situations that try my moral character and strength, I totally flunk. I fail. I disappoint. I pull a Peter and deny Christ not once, but three times. And when I do, I despair.

Thankfully, Jesus' resurrection does not depend on Peter's fidelity, nor does it hinge on our own. The mercy of Christ is infinite and encompasses even the biggest of screw-ups. Just moments after Peter's denial, he realizes what he has done and falls to his knees in tears. He knows that he has blown the game, that he has fallen to weakness and temptation when it really counted. But that realization and decision to repent is infinitely more meaningful than his failure. His repentance is held in stark contrast to the despair of Judas, whose betrayal of Jesus and subsequent despair leads him to his own demise. Peter's resilience carries him through his "big screw-up" and into his influential ministry, service as the first pope, and martyrdom.

The lesson: Don't let your "missed shots at the buzzer" get you down. Yes, fall to your knees and repent. But then you'd better get right back up, pick up where you left off, and go do something amazing for God. Because every extra moment you despair is a moment you are wasting your amazing gifts and talents. What if Peter had never gotten back up?! Follow his example, get back on the court and go be a saint.

yep, i still exist.

Oh hey there, blog. Remember me?

There are a couple of reasons why I haven't updated this thing since June. The first is that I'm sort of a super-duper-perfectionist when it comes to writing, and that makes me very hesitant to write anything that I haven't spent a good deal of time working on. This is mostly a matter of pride, a character flaw that I will attempt to abate by writing more often (and less well), sooo... get ready.

The second and more influential reason I haven't updated recently is that I've had a difficult time coming up with something "important" or "eventful" enough to report. Honestly, my life for the past seven months has been, for the most part, about as sensational as a Band-Aid. And not even one of those fun, themed Band-Aids, like the ones with Sponge Bob on them. My Post College Life (PCL) has been as exciting as a regular, plain old boring brown Band-Aid. Or a geometry textbook. Or the film floating at the top of the Crim Del. Pick your favorite simile, and that's my life.

I mean, okay. Perhaps I'm exaggerating. My PCL hasn't been THAT bad so far - there just hasn't been anything particularly monumental about it.

That is.................until now.

That's right. I have chosen today to update this blog because, as of St. Patty's Day, March 17th, 2010, I am officially moving across the country to Denver, Colorado to pursue an MA in Theology. (WHAAA?)

That's the important part. If you're not a "details person," feel free to hit the little red 'x' or start reading somebody else's blog. If you're intrigued as to how I've come to this conclusion, read on! I'll explain.

I returned home to VA in the dog days of August, exhausted from a summer of ministry in New York. I had received word from the Jesuit Volunteer Corps earlier in the summer that things weren't going to work out between us after all, meaning they were unable to find an assignment for me. Because volunteering with JVC had been pretty much my only plan for the '09-'10 year, I moved back in with my parents and started back at square one.

I worked as a temp for most of August and September. While the work itself was generally pretty tedious (opening mail, entering data, etc.,) I actually got to work in some pretty interesting places, such as the National Rifle Association, where I took orders for Eddie the Eagle gun safety materials; MHZ Networks, where I met a secretary named Dani Rosner who doubles as a LEGIT singer/songwriter (seriously, check it out); and the U.S. Court of Appeals, where I was told that the answer to all of my problems is to get a Cougar. I also worked for one day as a guy who sits on a bus and counts all the people who get on and off. It was kind of awkward, and kind of made me hate my life a little, but the bus driver was from Ethiopia and was a cool guy, so it was okay.

Eventually I replaced temping with substitute teaching in Fairfax County, which has been a fun job at times, but definitely not something I want to make a career out of. I've had middle school girls propose to me, and I've had third-graders tell me that I look like I'm in my forties. Great. I think the highlight, though, was this one time when I was teaching ESL to a class of high school kids. At one point when they were talking a lot in Spanish instead of working, I gave them a mini-lecture about how they should pay attention, because English is important if you want to succeed in America. It went something like this:

Me: "Come on guys. If you want to go to college, you need to be able to speak and write English. And English is also important if you want a good job..."
Kid in the back: "A good job? You mean like yours?"

Yeah. Ouch. Despite the rough moments, subbing has actually been a pretty fun job, and it offers a new environment almost every day. Tomorrow, for example, I get to practice my Spanish at Mount Vernon, and on Friday it's Biology at South County.

Aside from work, life was pretty rough in the late months of '09. I was going through a pretty heavy crisis of purpose and was struggling a lot with my faith. Coming out of a summer of multi-denomenational Christian ministry left me with a LOT of unanswered questions, and I was beginning to realize just how much seeking I had left to do. I began to look to the advice of spiritual directors, did some spiritual reading on my own, and even happened upon this very interesting blog, the detailed journey of one atheist's conversion to Catholicism. Amidst the reading, thinking, and praying about my purpose in all of this, I was still trying to figure out what I should DO. One day I was looking at jobs, the next day I was looking at grad schools, and the next, year-long service organizations similar to JVC. Eventually, I came to realize that I was NOT ready to be in another ministry-type position until I really became solid on my own beliefs. I needed to be in an environment where I could be myself, read a lot, and ask lots of questions. I needed to go back to school.

This realization was cemented over new years by an amazing trip to Orlando, Florida for the 2010 FOCUS conference. Never before had I seen so many thousands of Catholic college students on fire for their faith and ready to transform the broken culture in which we're living. I can't describe everything I got out of that conference; in fact I'm still digesting some of it. But there was an intense collection of great speakers on just about every topic imaginable. I came away inspired to strive for virtue in my life, and to never stop reaching for the God who I had all but lost faith in but who promises that if I seek Him with a true heart, I will find Him. With renewed vigor and confidence, I decided to make the rest of this period of my life a training ground for the future. I began to live an ordered life with regular prayer and meditation, and I applied to graduate schools all over the country, from Ohio to Boston, D.C. to Denver.

And it's in Denver that I'm going to end up (the Augustine Institute, to be exact). Why Denver, you ask? Maybe it's the desire I've had for the past few years to do something daring, to pack up my stuff and say goodbye to the humdrum of Northern Virginia. Maybe it's the fact that I was born in Kansas, and Colorado borders Kansas. Maybe it's the fact that the A.I. has awesome professors, like the fierce Dr. Sri in this picture. I can't tell you exactly WHY I chose Denver, any more than I could tell you WHY my mother loves me. I just know that she does. And I just know that I'm going to Denver... and that's about it.

I could go on with stories from the past seven months... like the time I cheered my family's football team to Superbowl victory, or the time String Theory played at a nightclub, or the time I drank 3/4 gallon of whole milk every day for three months (while attempting to lift weights) and gained 30 lbs. (?!) But I won't. Most of that stuff is just peanuts anyway.

Instead, I'll take a moment to be candid. These past months have been some of the most difficult of my life. I awoke many days and went to bed many nights feeling utterly hopeless. It was only through the love and support of family and friends that I've gotten to this point, and I'm not going to say that my struggles are over. But I have learned a few lessons along the way. So to anyone who finds himself struggling after college graduation - mourning the loss of the college experience, drifting without direction, unsure of his purpose - these are the words I've repeated to myself through the coldest and bitterest times, and these are the words of advice I have to offer you:

Be real, seek truth, and strive to live today a little bit better than you lived yesterday.

Happy St. Patrick's Day.

-dp