Lenten Journeys

I feel I must begin this post by acknowledging the obvious, that it was not published as scheduled on Wednesday. I have struggled with my words the last few weeks, until finally, inevitably, they failed to arrive on time. But why should I have expected them to? They aren't really my words, after all. They belong to something greater.

Because it's not about me.

I say this to my wife when she asks where I want all this writing to go. It's not about what I want. The end goal is God's not mine, and they haven't exactly given me a ten-point plan. Is that frustrating, bewildering? Sure. But say no to my Creator? Never.

Because it's not about me.

I heard this from Pope Benedict in his decision to resign his office. How many people would give up the kind of power, position, and prestige that he has? And yet he does so willingly, perhaps even joyfully, because it's about the Church, not him, and not just the Church institutional, but the People of God, us. More to the point, it's about what God desires for us, their family, not the plans or dreams of one member of that family. And so our brother Joseph was wise enough to hear God's will in this matter, humble enough to accept that will, and brave enough to live it.

Because it's really all about God's will.

We see this every time we look upon a crucifix. It is God's will in all its frustrating and bewildering glory. It makes no sense, until we get to Easter morning, and we have a glimpse, a taste, of the overwhelming beauty that is Love.

And so another Lent has begun. Forty days to prepare for our glimpse, our taste, of something wonderful. Forty days to discern God's will for us, for you, for me. Forty days to dwell in the most sublime mystery. It's really my favorite time of the year.

One Family

At the Inauguration two weeks ago, a prophet spoke to us. He was not a preacher, nor a politician. He was simply a poet, telling us of "One sun ... One light ... One ground ... One wind ... One sky ... One moon ... All of us ... Together." One family.

Richard Blanco wrote "One Today" specifically for the occasion. I doubt he was trying to be a prophet, and he may never be one again. But on that morning, on that stage, he was. So listen to his poem, and hear not just his words, but God's Love.

"You are my sibling. We are family. This is the essential truth of life. It is the only moral truth that really matters."

Monthly Reading Links

"Don't Forget About the Baby: A Homily for Respect Life Mass"
Blase Cupich, America

"A short walk that crossed worlds"
Dianne Goddard, Los Angeles Times

"First, Last, and Only"
Terrance Klein, America

"Singing to Jesus with Eyes Closed"
Kaya Oakes, Killing the Buddha

"The God of Death, Too"
Joe Simmons, The Jesuit Post

"Can Forgiveness Play a Role in Criminal Justice?"
Paul Tullis, New York Times Magazine

"Dan and Me: My Coming Out as a Friend of Dan Cathy and Chick-fil-A"
Shane Windmeyer, The Huffington Post

Please follow me on Twitter (@jwbidwell) for additional reading recommendations.

Silent Awe

Several days ago, I went for a walk around sunset. It was one of those rainy days in Southern California where the sky is full of dark clouds, but then these patches of bright blue break through. Misty clouds hung low upon the foothills. The air was cold and crisp. Everything had this golden tinge from the sunset. And it was all I could do to not drop to my knees in the street and weep in praise and thanksgiving.

"Look out your window. It doesn’t matter which one. They all will do. What do you see? Trees, hills, grass, concrete, metal bars, trash, crap, and all the other debris of modern life? No, you see something wonderful, something magical and wondrous.

... What you see is a gift. A gift more precious than anything, ANYTHING that has or ever will be imagined by human intelligence. You see our reason for existence, our life’s work and mission: to be a song of praise about life itself.

... You know it is true. You’ve felt it in your heart, in your soul. It’s that little piece of you that gets caught up in the drama of life, the drama of nature, the drama of history. That feeling in the back of your throat that you are part of something that you can’t quite grasp and yet you know is there. That just makes you want to cry because it’s so big and bold and beautiful. That makes you want to scream out in joy and ecstasy, thanksgiving and praise for being a part of it.

In that moment, in that very moment, whether it lasts a second or a lifetime, you know that you have touched the face of the divine. Whatever name you want to call him or her or it, you have touched that face and you will never be the same. Nothing will ever be the same again."

"But we talk too much. It makes it all seem so trivial. Just let us be who we are. Just let yourself be. It will be enough."

Sometimes, silent awe is enough.

Abortion, Fear, & Love

Yesterday was the fortieth anniversary of Roe v. Wade. It was a day full of editorials and essays, voices on all sides of the abortion debate shouting to be heard. If there's one thing we should be sure of after forty years, it's that none of them have found the solution. Legal or not, abortions will happen, women will suffer, and babies will die, all because of fear. Fear of judgment; fear of abandonment; fear of failure; fear of all the unknowns. A fear that cannot be cured by lawyers, or doctors, or politicians, or even well-meaninged activists. A fear only dissolved by an embrace. An embrace that says I will help you, I respect you, I forgive you, I love you. So maybe it's time for us to shut up, just shut up for a while, and embrace all those who fear, and simply love them.

"There is more love in every atom, every molecule than in all the romances ever conceived. We are the song of life, of love, of a mother and father who made us by sheer force of will. So much of life is a paradox, but it is there that we find God the most. It is there, in the confusion and that mess that we must dwell. It is there that we experience true beauty, true joy."

"From your perspective, you see love and hate, good and evil, right and wrong. I see what is and what will be, and what I see is love and good, always."