Wednesday, February 26, 2014

GROOMING

Cats groom themselves for many reasons. The obvious one is to bathe and untangle their hair. But cats also groom to sooth themselves when they are anxious or afraid. They groom themselves when they are bored to idle the time away with vigorous slurps. If wounded, cats groom the injured spot to ease the pain. Cats can cause themselves harm by over-grooming. They can lick themselves so much that they begin to wear their coats bald in places and create sores on their skin. They become obsessed with self pleasure, and fail to realize the harm they are causing themselves. A good thing turns bad with unhealthy consequences.

The same holds true for the human species. We groom ourselves in various ways for various reasons. We do so physically with hair-dos, make-up and clothing. These make us feel attractive and confident. We groom ourselves sometimes with our tongues, not by literally licking ourselves like cats, but by using them to boast to others of our accomplishments and self-importance. We sometimes groom ourselves by manipulating others to do what we want them to do for us. We use them for our advancement and pleasure, and we feel good about pulling one over on them. In different ways, grooming can make us look good for a while, but it may finally cause harm by paying too much attention to ourselves.

We are not made to be the center of attention. When that happens, our attractiveness becomes ugly and off-putting. Like Narcissus in the ancient Greek myth, we starve ourselves by focusing only on our likes, desires and pleasures. There is no nourishment for the mind, soul and spirit from simply grooming ourselves. We may feel good for a while, but that sensation is fleeting. It provides no substance to feed our higher faculties where our true beauty lies. When we think and feel deeply and act based on these, we show more than ourselves to others. We disclose the order of life as it is meant to be, namely, rooted in God and shared by all God’s children. This focus leads to serving others, helping them without begrudging the aid, looking for what we can do to groom others rather than ourselves, making others’ lives better and rejoicing in their benefit.

In our affluence, retirement or self-satisfaction, we can spend a lot of time pursuing our own pleasure. This self-grooming can become harmful to our true selves, made in God’s image. Seeking excessive comfort for ourselves can lead to wounds in our souls and spirits that can only heal when we stop licking them—when we stop paying attention only to our hurts, desires or pleasures, and start offering ourselves for the benefit of others.

Baxter grooms to keep his hair clean and untangled. He’s a good and healthy cat. Our
grooming would do well to follow his lead to keep us good and holy humans.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

AGING WITH GRACE

Baxter is getting older. He just had a birthday, and he is certainly out of the kitten and teenage phases of life. He is even beyond the youthful adult category. Baxter is a “mature” cat now. The signs of his mounting years are subtle but clear. He is much less feisty than he used to be. He gives into whatever I want him to do much more easily than in the past. He still doesn’t like getting flea protection each month or sticking to his diet, but he doesn’t fight it. He is docile and accepting of what he has come to know is part of life for him. He still gets around to explore and to chase bugs. But the number of these episodes has deceased as his years have increased.

While some things have diminished with the years for Baxter, others have grown more common. He is more affectionate and trusting towards me in his senior years. He lies on my lap and sleeps so soundly that he snores. This soon awakens both of us until we realize that the noise is harmless. Baxter rarely gets angry, really angry, any longer. He may nag to be fed or whine to have a door opened, but if he doesn’t get his way after a while, he just walks away and finds something else to interest him. Age has mellowed Baxter. It is easy to live with him now. Simple things— - a daily brushing, a scratch on the neck or belly, kibble, a clean litter box—are all it takes to keep him happy.

How well are we aging? That is something we may not think about often, but perhaps we should. The kind of person we become in our prime is what we take into our later years. Despite the wonders of modern medicine, we cannot replace the dominant parts of our character we have shaped through the years. An angry young man left to himself will become a resentful old man. A petty, sneaky, gossiping young woman can often turn into a complaining, crotchety busy-body in her later years. Our habits may take on a different form because age brings different circumstances and conditions to our lives, but once formed, they often remain set. So, if you are young enough to change your ways, think about it and act before the time has passed. If you are set in those ways, then pray for the grace to break a pattern of negative thinking and feeling about life.

In the later years of life, we must rely upon God more and ourselves less, if things are to improve.  That is where our second chances arise, not from our own determination and ingenuity, but from our trust in the power and fidelity of God to save us. We age with grace when we quit trying so hard, whether we’re trying to control our lives and others, to impress others with ourselves, or to get ahead of them so that we don’t have to serve them any longer. We age with grace when we allow God and those we love in God to offer help, advice and care. We age with grace when we quit trying to prove ourselves to God and others, and instead, trust that they will love us for who we are, warts and all. As we get older, we need to invite God to take us to Himself as we are and show us how He loves us more than we ever imagined.

"Late have I loved Thee, Beauty ever ancient, ever new."  Saint Augustine wrote these words in his Confessions to describe his regret when he finally discovered faith. It is never too late to love God, or better, to allow God to love us. It is how we age with grace, how we can grow despite ourselves, how a youthful old age is possible. Ever ancient, ever new, forever with God.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

HIDING IN PLACE

Baxter sometimes hides in place. I don’t know if the cold weather is to blame, or if he just wants to get away from my bothering him. Whatever the reason, he has taken to going somewhere out of sight by himself for a part of the day. If I call his name, he may answer or he may not. If I look for him, I don’t find him in his usual spots. Instead, he is in the spare room where no one ever goes, or under the bed, or in the bathtub behind the shower curtain. He gets away, and when discovered, he may come out or he may not. He enjoys hiding in place, away from the sights and sounds of the TV, radio, street noises, phone conversations, and my bantering. Baxter finds a place of peace and quiet, and he stays there until he’s ready to come out again.

Sometimes we need to do the same thing. Life gets so busy, we need to stop. Our world becomes so noisy and crowded, we need to turn it all off and be alone with ourselves. Problems mount, and we get overwhelmed. Then we become irritated with the whole situation. That’s when we need a "time out". Giving ourselves permission to walk away from it all and take a break is an important habit to develop and use. It’s a tool for us to relax, get things into perspective, appreciate the blessings we share through others, and figure out how to make things better when we return. Hiding in place makes space for us to listen to our own hearts again and discover there the voice of God.

Jesus did this in His ministry. How often in the Gospels do we hear, “He would withdraw to deserted places and pray.” Jesus wasn’t running away from His responsibilities to spread the message of God’s Kingdom, but He needed the time away to regroup and figure out the next step in His mission. Even for the Lord, life sometimes came at Him too fast and furious—too many crowds with too many demands creating too much conflict. He had to stop, get in touch with His Father’s love, and refocus on His purpose. He always came back to His mission, and His return often brought a new resolve to carry though His Father’s will, even to the cross. Removing Himself for a while wasn’t running away for Jesus, but a time to renew His strength and commitment to follow faithfully His call from the Father.

So find your hiding place and use it well. Baxter does, and he seems the
better for it.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

FEAR OF BEING ALONE

Baxter doesn’t like it when I leave for an extended time. I try not to tell him. I hide the suitcase, talk about the trip outside of his hearing, and never allude to someone else looking after him for a while. Nevertheless, Baxter somehow gets a whiff that I’m going away, and he objects. If he does find the suitcase, he lies down in it, hoping I won’t notice him, so that I will inadvertently pack him with my clothes. If that strategy fails, Baxter won’t let me out of his sight. Wherever I go, he follows. Whatever chair I sit in, he climbs next to me or on me. If I’m working on something, he sits in front of me and stares, refusing to let me out of his sight. Baxter feels anxious at just the thought of my being away from him. He’s afraid to be alone for fear of being abandoned.

We can get this way as well. We often don’t want to admit it, but we rely upon certain people to be in our lives. We take it for granted. Then, if something changes and they aren’t there in the same way any longer, we get upset and anxious. Maybe they grow up and move out of the homestead. Maybe they move out of town for work and career opportunities. Maybe they pass from our lives because they no longer live on this earth as we do. Age, disease or illness has taken them away from us. Whatever the reason, we feel alone and abandoned. Our daily routines are disrupted because the people who were part of them aren’t there any longer. Our sense of well-being is lost. We wonder what to do with our time, why to put effort into some ordinary chores like cooking and cleaning, how to weave our lives back into the human fabric we have worn for many years. When someone significant is now missing, it’s hard to go on as usual, because the usual partners in life aren’t there.

But as Saint Paul says, “This is our reason to hope.” We believe that we are never alone and abandoned. The deep, personal, significant influences we have had on each other aren’t lost by distance or time. They ripen and mature. We learn to appreciate the sacrifices made on our behalf when we are called to make them for others. Children learn how deeply their parents loved them when they become parents themselves. Students value how excellent teachers nurture and challenge them to learn more when they graduate from that school. A friendly neighborhood is a gift we take for granted until we find ourselves in a world of strangers, uninterested in each other. We make these imprints on each other wherever we are for however long we live. Those who have loved us and touched our lives significantly get under our skin, and, in a way, become part of us even when we are apart.

This is one of the ways we are made in God’s image. God acts to shape our lives by sending His disciples to teach us His ways by the example they set and the influence they have on us. This is the core of faith formation. The way we show each other God’s ways in our world involves a sharing of life experiences that create memories and understandings of what is important that cannot be forgotten. Our physical circumstances may change, but these marks of faithful living will endure like tattoos that become part of our make up. We may miss the physical presence of the persons who left their mark on us, but we can never erase their spiritual influence that marked our souls with their faith.

This is the communion of saints we so often profess in our creed. We become who we are through this communion we share in living, and we never become detached from it, even if we try. Our loved ones, living and dead, are praying for us and with us, moving us through our memories to make faith-filled decisions, and supporting us through their gentle, quiet presence that tells us we are not alone, not abandoned.  We can try to run away from them, but we cannot get away from them. We live bonded by the grace of this holy communion.

So, Baxter, I may leave for a while, but I am not gone. Neither are any of the friends and family whose love has shaped us to value certain things, live a certain way, and see ourselves as all God’s children
together striving for eternal life.

Monsignor Statnick