The noble art of living with tension

Earlier today, I had a massage. For some time now, I have been experiencing tightness in my calves and the visit to a local physiotherapist was aimed at trying to ease the pressure, particularly on my left leg. At the library where Celena works, they have massages available every fortnight. It is 20 minutes, every two weeks, that she refuses to miss.

We all live with some degree of tension in our lives. Whether it is experienced physically in our shoulders or our feet, mentally in our head space or emotionally in our hearts, tension seems to be as much a part of modern living as texting and taxes. But should we be as keen to rid ourselves of tension as we seem to be?

In his book The Holy Longing: The Search for A Christian Spirituality (Image, 2008), Ronald Rolheiser, contends that tension is an integral part of the Christian experience. In fact, Rolheiser argues, tension is part of the “nobility of the soul”.

“We are better persons when we carry tension, as opposed to always looking for its easy resolution. To carry tension, especially great tension, is to ponder in the biblical sense.”

Part of the examples Rolheiser gives are based on anecdotes that involve sexual behaviour and our identity as sexual beings. They include an episode from an American TV show and an exchange between an academic and some of his students. The specifics are not important. What is significant, however, is the conclusion that tension, particularly unresolved tension, heightens our capacity for...well, everything. We appreciate the beer more after we have delayed that first sip; we feel closer to our partner after we hold off on giving into our immediate desires; that hug from an absent friend seems so much more powerful and comforting if we been apart for a long period.

In movies and television, the unresolved sexual tension between two characters is a key ingredient in keeping the audience engaged. Writers know that to keep the pages turning, the reader has to feel the tension of that comes from wondering where characters are heading and how plots are unfolding.

Jesus was no stranger to living with tension. His life was often characterised by waiting for someone to arrive, or delaying His departure for a destination (remember how he waited to go and see Lazarus, even though He had been told he was gravely ill?). Rolheiser acknowledges this, claiming that the message of Jesus contained a “strong motif of waiting, of pondering, of chastity, of having to carry tension without giving in to a premature resolution.” The most vivid example of that motif occurring was in His crucifixion and subsequent resurrection.

But why? When muscles are tense, or we crave companionship, why should we carry the tension? What is wrong with giving into the desire for release?

“The real value in carrying tension for the sake of love,” Rolheiser writes, “is that it is a gestation process.”

“By pondering as Mary did, as she stood helplessly beneath the cross, and by enduring suffering as Jesus did in the garden at Gethsemane, we have the opportunity to turn hurt into forgiveness, anger into compassion, and hatred into love.”

In other words, without some sort of death, a willingness to give up and let go, we cannot experience a resurrection. New life comes out of dying to ourselves. Carrying tension means that we are letting things – and people - be as they are, not as we would like them to be.

Ever since Amber, and then Brodie, died, I have been living with tension, a revelation or a sign as to what the greater purpose was in their deaths. In vain, I have looked for ways to massage away the ache in my heart.

Rolheiser concludes his chapter on tension and pondering as a form of prayer with a quote from a Catholic philosopher, Jacques Maritain, who said:

“...one of the great spiritual tragedies is that so many people of good will would become persons of noble soul, if only they would not panic and resolve the painful tensions within their lives too prematurely, but rather stay with them long enough, as one does in a dark night of the soul, until those tensions are transformed and help give birth to what is most noble inside of us – compassion, forgiveness and love.”

I seek nobility. Until then, however, I will live with the tension! 

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Of pearls and buried treasure

The following thoughts are taken from the beginning of the appeal talk I will be giving at Sunnybank and Acacia Ridge parishes this weekend (July 23/24), as part of the Catholic Mission appeal program. They draw on the imagery in this weekend's Gospel, about the landowner finding buried treasure, and selling all he owns to possess it; and a merchant similarly selling all his possessions to acquire a precious and rare pearl.

Celena and I are considering moving. There is a town house in Wellington Point that has caught our eye and we are in the process of doing the paperwork, and dealing with banks and mortgage brokers and everything that comes with such a decision. It also means, however, we are doing a lot of clearing out, and culling.

When we cull, or when we have a clearing out in our life - a room, a desk, a shed - we come to understand what is really important. The things that are perhaps trivial, or less meaningful, we dispose of; we keep what is significant and what we truly cherish.

This goes some way towards conveying the mindset Jesus invokes in the Gospel for this weekend (July 23/24). When He shares about the owner of the field selling everything to buy the buried treasure, or the merchant selling all his possessions in order to purchase a newly discovered valuable pearl, He is asking each of us to consider the ultimate clearing out or cull, with the question: "What would compel us to give up everything?" Or to use the theme for the Catholic Mission appeal at this time, "What sacrifice would we make in order to 'Do Something Beautiful for God?'"

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Algo Bello Para Dios in Toowong

The following is the text of an appeal talk I prepared, as Director of Catholic Mission in Brisbane, for the parishes of Toowong and Indooroopilly, on the weekend of July 16/17.

There is a young lady in this community tonight/today, whose name is Bella. It is a name that means Beautiful. She is a family friend but I mention her specifically because the Spanish version of her name is Bello...and it is this word that figures prominently in the Catholic Mission appeal for this year.

ALGO BELLO PARA DIOS – Something Beautiful For God. It was an expression coined by Blessed Mother Teresa and used by one of the church communities in Peru, when it established a hospice for people living with HIV or AIDS. Set up in an old warehouse eight years ago, the facility was called ALGO BELLO PARA DIOS. Tonight/today, you, like the people of Las Malvinas and like Gabriela, who is on the front of the appeal envelope, are being asked to Do Something Beautiful for God.

Before I introduce you to Gabriela and her work, I have a confession to make: my confession is this: I have never been on Mission! I have never left my homeland, to travel abroad and offer myself in service to the church or those who are poor, sick or oppressed. Like some of you here tonight, I have lived out my mission, here in Australia, as a husband, as a father, as an employee and a colleague.

For those of us here tonight/today, who are filled with faith but not yet hearing the call to travel overseas or to remote parts of Australia, in service of our faith, Mission begins the moment we wake up and continues as we make our way through the day, the week, the year. You don’t need a passport to do Mission and it’s not limited only to those who wear the Roman collar or who don a habit. In fact, our entire baptised life is a constant call to create ALGO BELLO PARA DIOS – Something Beautiful for God.

My mission has changed somewhat however in these past few months. Last year, I had to give the eulogy at my son, Brodie’s, funeral. He was just over five years old. A decade earlier, I did the same thing for my daughter, Amber Rose. For me, there is now a very clear question of “if I am not called to be a father in a day-to-day sense, what am I meant to be doing?” And then I look at the image on the envelope you are holding...

Gabriela cannot be here to ask for your support. She is answering the call of God to serve the people of Peru, through the communal kitchen she has set up in Las Malvinas. Father Raymundo who set up the AIDS clinic, also cannot be here to ask for your support. So I guess, for the moment, I have made it my mission to come before you, on their behalf!

The readings for this weekend seem simple, in that they see Jesus use parables to describe the Kingdom of Heaven. The imagery we hear in the Gospel includes the Kingdom being described as the sown seed, the mustard seed that becomes a sheltering tree and the yeast that leavens the bread.

Of all these images, however, it is the parable of the wheat and the darnel, and how they become entwined, that dominates. It is a reflection unique to Matthew, focusing as it does on the idea that not only is the world made up of people who become apathetic in their faith but there are those who actively oppose Gospel values. It is in this world – where evil seems to flourish, poverty is prevalent, and disease and violence is rife – that Catholic Mission operates. Those we support in more than 160 countries – the dedicated missionaries - around the world are the wheat; what they tackle is the darnel.

It is a theme carried over from the first reading, where the author of the book of Wisdom declares: “Your justice has its source in strength, your sovereignty over all makes you lenient to all... “You only have to will and your power is there.” God could solve all the world’s problems but He created us with the potential to take the mustard seed of our faith and nurture it so that it can grow and spread its branches. Contributing to the appeal will do just this, by providing shelter, education, medical assistance and pastoral support, to those in need.

I think Jesus uses the parable of the wheat and the darnel to also point out something fundamental about us, as humans: in each of us, there is potential for good, and potential for evil. One moment we are a Saint, the next a Sinner. Stuff happens in our lives that makes us doubt, makes us question, makes us angry and sets us railing against the injustice of it all. That’s the darnel.

I know I find myself asking lots of questions about why my two children have both been called ‘home’ before me – parents shouldn’t have to bury their children! And while I can’t make sense of it, just yet, I am confident that there is a divine plan and that one day, I might appreciate how and why my children were my ALGO BELLO PARA DIOS for only a brief time!

From my limited perspective, I think the point of Jesus’ parable is that we don’t have all the answers, and we can’t provide the solutions to the world’s ills, on our own. What Matthew’s account encourages is discernment and prudence. We are not always able to distinguish accurately between what is wheat, or good, and what is darnel, or evil. It is Jesus alone who is qualified to judge. This Gospel – as with the appeal itself – is ultimately one that asks us to trust in God’s providence and divine justice.

Donating to Catholic Mission is not about solving all the world’s problems. Make no mistake – your contributions DO make a SIGNIFICANT difference and the inside flap of the appeal envelope gives some examples of how this happens. For instance, $544 – the equivalent of two beers or cups of coffee each week – will enable missionaries to provide food and medicine to 65 river villages in extreme poverty in Peru.

Our donations are like the mustard seed that turns into a tree providing shelter, education, medical assistance, pastoral support, even the Sacraments. Or you could also consider a donation to Catholic Mission as yeast that, when combined with the faithfulness of heroic missionaries like Gabriela and Fr Raymundo, helps ‘leaven’ the conditions experienced by needy people, in more than 160 countries around the world, practically and spiritually.

One such example is the focus for our appeal tonight/today. In the urban river slum of Las Malvina, on the outskirts of Iquitos, the poverty is so extreme, people live in wooden houses made of planks and boards, with only two or three walls and occasionally no roof. Flood conditions exist for up to 7 months each year, bringing sewage, rubbish and disease into the make-shift homes. Polish lay missionary Gabriela says the cars in her homeland of Poland ‘live’ in better conditions, in the garages, than the people of Iquitos do in their homes.” She opened a communal kitchen for local children and it has since expanded to include literacy and education support. With the help of Catholic Mission, and its loyal donors such as you here tonight, she has created ALGO BELLO PARA DIOS – Something Beautiful for God.

I would now like to give you all a chance to respond, according to your capacity, and fill out the envelope or make your contribution.

(GIVE PEOPLE SOME TIME TO FILL OUT ENVELOPES, MAKE DONATION)

I began my talk tonight/today by singling out Bella, the daughter of my friends. I would like to conclude by addressing my closing remarks to her, her sister, Katie, and all those who can rightly be described as Children of God. In doing so, I am going to draw on some of the words from a lovely children’s book, written by Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

In his book, God’s Dream, Archbishop Tutu asks:

Dear Child of God: do you know how to make God’s Dream come true? It is really quite easy. As easy as sharing, loving, caring; as easy as holding, playing, laughing. As easy as knowing we are one big family, because we are all God’s children.
Will you help God’s dream come true?

On behalf of Gabriela, Luisa, Fr Raymundo and all those whose your support will benefit, I ask you: “Will you help God’s dream come true? If you have answered yes, by making a donation, I thank you. You can be confident that you have done exactly what the appeal asks tonight: Algo Bello Para Dios.

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Cleaning out can be a gentle process

Yesterday, Celena and I bought a vacuum cleaner. Not an exciting acquisition, I grant you (despite the manufacturer's claim to have created a machine that will make cleaning the floors "a joy") but, for far too long, we have had to rely on borrowing one from the in-laws, so it certainly marks the gaining of a certain independence on our part.

That vacuum cleaner will play a significant part in our life in the future. It's not a surrogate child and we don't anticipate a sense of quivering anticipation as we assemble it and plug it into the nearby wall. As for joyfulness - well, one shouldn't expect too much! But it will certainly become a useful tool in our efforts to keep our house and car clean and presentable.

In recent weeks, I have realised that I have developed a tendency to take many of my worldly possessions for granted. I don't clean the car as often as I think I should. Windows become streaked, dust accumulates on bookshelves and shoes are scuffed and rubbed through a lack of being polished regularly. It's not that I don't want to attend to such matters - I just always seem to find something more enjoyable or more rewarding to do.

That's why our purchase of a vacuum cleaner is so important. It's fine to want to ascend the heights and experience thrill of a 'mountain top' experience...but we eventually have to come down and spend some time in the valley. What I am realising is that, in our lives today, there are chores to be completed, tasks to be tended too, priorities to be pondered. Performing the mundane duties of running a house is all part and parcel of our greater mandate to build an eternal kingdom.

The actual quote escapes me for the moment but I know the Bible has a lot to say about doing the small things in life with passion and conviction. It's where the story of the servants and the talents comes in. But while we typically think of this as relating to our personal gifts, I actually now appreciate it for the message it offers me as the owner of one property and the tenant of another.

And if a vacuum cleaner is going to the start of my conversion on the road to cleanliness and self-discipline, then I - and Celena - will give thanks to God...and turn it on!
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Time to dwell in the gaps

It has been a long time since I wrote on this blog...Easter this year, in fact. Nearly six months have passed, from the time I wrote about Brodie's reaction to the Easter story. In that time, we have been told that Brodie may only have 'months' (subsequently revised to 'weeks') to live! Obviously, we have found this news very confronting!

In that time, I have been assailed by a wealth of emotions: I use the term 'assailed' because it has been almost an assault of the senses that I have experienced; I use the term 'wealth' because I recognise that there is a richness, and a depth, to what we are all going through, collectively as a family, and individually.

One of the best descriptions I have come across, to describe the journey of these past few months, is 'dwelling in the gaps'. The sense of this expression is captured in the extract below:

"The more you try to let go, the harder it is to let go. Then we feel incompetent because we can't let go. If we're really dwelling in the gap, we can turn to God and say: "This is what's going on. I'm feeling it right now. I'm going to allow You to be here. I don't have to struggle with control; I can look at what I can learn about this." That's dwelling in the gap. Sometimes it's easy, and sometimes it's hard."

There will no doubt be much hardness ahead; at times, like when Brodie comes into read me my Stephen King novel at night, it will all seem so easy! But the chance to 'dwell in the gaps' means we have to be prepared to live on either side...the good times and the bad, the hard times and the easy ones. It's the stuff in between - the gaps - that help make us who we are.
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