Baxter's Fan Following

Baxter doesn’t seem to be a fan of any team in any sport. He watches some of the games with me, but with a disinterest that often gives way to full out sleep. No cheering meows, no jumping up in excitement, no bad chirps for a bad play, he just lies there wondering, I think, “What is all the fuss about?” A pinch of cat nip or, better still, a bowl of kibble, and he’s full tilt ready to do battle for the spoils. But a contest on some field of play produces little to no reaction from him. Except, of course, if I yell too loudly for some fabulous play or fouled up performance, then Baxter jumps out of his stupor, and once he realizes I am the source of the noise, turns in disgust to resume his shattered dream in peace once again. It takes a lot to be a fan; more than Baxter wants to invest.

A fan must be enthusiastic. He or she is emotionally invested in the team they support. A great game can give a lift to the whole day, and conversely, a bad game puts a damper on the rest of one’s waking hours. A fan isn’t merely “interested” in the game. The day revolves around this event. The energy builds as the anticipation mounts. That’s why there is a ritual to the pre-game activities — tailgating, bands and fight songs, team gear, meeting up with fellow fans. It all contributes to the hype and charges up the faithful.

Which leads to the second quality of a true fan, he or she is loyal. A fair weather fan is no fan at all. The test of one’s blood line for a team is how you act when the team is in a slump. While you might get upset and want to fire the coach or strangle a certain player, you don’t walk away from the team. You stay with them through thick and thin, despite frustrations and disappointments, when the statistics are negative and the record shows it, when they do stupid things that lose the game. A true fan stands by them, and starts over with all the hype for the next game. How can someone do this, especially when the slump becomes a slide that seems to have no bottom to it? They never lose hope. The next play, the next game, the next season will turn it around, and true to this hope, he or she stands by, stays with, cheers on the team.

God needs fans in our world today. It sometimes seems like He’s losing the games of life with so much of the culture of death all around us. The right to an abortion remains the law of the land, as does capital punishment in many places. The frail elderly are often seen as a burden rather than precious pieces of fine, aged humanity. The poor are blamed for their condition rather helped out of it, and world peace is often dismissed as the fantasy of the naïve rather than the only practical course for humans to thrive. God is behind all of these contests for respecting and uplifting human life, but sometimes He must wonder where all of His fans have gone. So little cheering for these causes is often heard, or if it is heard, the cheers come from fair weather fans who pick and choose when and what they will support on God’s team. We are against abortion but for capital punishment. We are concerned for the elderly, but the poor are on their own. Peace is for the radicals, but war is for the patriots. Thinking this way is like cheering for pass plays but not for runs in football, or concentrating on the pitching game but forgetting about dropped balls in the outfield. A true fan supports the team in every aspect of its play, appreciates that each position contributes to the game effort, and remembers that usually only a fully balanced squad can sustain itself all the way to a championship.

God needs enthusiastic and loyal fans in His game of saving human life in all its conditions. Fans expect the team to be in condition, play smart, and give it their all. Our Trinitarian God always does that. We have to do our part in showing that we stand by, stay with and cheer on all God’s efforts in our world. We can’t give up, for the season for this sport is all that remains of human history. The game rituals are the sacraments we celebrate to prepare and strengthen us for the contest. The championship trophy is life everlasting. So stay with God’s team and cheer on His victory over sin and death in all its contests.

Baxter, wake up!

Baxter's Winter Interlude

I notice that Baxter, like many of us, gets a bit lethargic in the winter. He stares out the window, but without any high alert signals set off. There are no stimuli for the hunting instinct, no birds, rabbits, squirrels, other cats to get the juices running for a fantasy hunt. On grey days, Baxter settles into one of his many nap spots and stays put for long stretches. As he has gotten older, he now hugs the heat registers on especially cold days, snuggling the warm air so tightly that I sometimes worry about his catching himself on fire. Winter is a season when he slows down, draws in and hopes for the best. He sometimes cries at the garage door to be let out, but as soon as I open the door and he feels the cold air, he turns and runs. A garage adventure can wait until spring.

Winter affects us in similar ways. We stay indoors much more. We do what we need to do to keep life going — work, grocery shopping, transporting the kids, shoveling snow — but we often pull back, settle in and snuggle in the cocoons we create to feel secure. We want to be safe and warm when the climate gets cold and threatening, and we do little to break out of this survival mode. We look for how we can exercise the least effort to get by and conserve our energy. There is often little to excite us in this season. It’s a waiting game until spring.

Shakespeare wrote about the winter of our discontent when intrigue and sinister human motives darken every encounter between persons. Much of the human drama hinges on this mood. Wintry moments even find a place in the Gospel story. Recall the controversies with the religious officials, the plot to betray Jesus involving one of His own disciples, and the hopelessness of Calvary and its aftermath. Whatever the climate was at those times, the human temperature was cold and dark towards the Son of God. It was a spiritual winter for many, and they were freezing out the love of God incarnate in their midst.

Does this kind of winter get inside of us as well? Do we just refuse to look for a bright side to life rooted in the God who loves us? Do we pull into ourselves for security and warmth and refuse to confront the cold in ourselves and others? If we do, then we cannot grow spiritually. In winter, life goes dormant. It stops expanding, reproducing and bearing fruit. It sleeps, waiting for a better time, and if that time does not come, it may remain sterile for the season or even die. The fruitful soul is a warm one, no matter what the temperature is around it. It takes in the love of God however it appears from whomever it is offered. It refuses to accept the cold environment of human sinfulness but instead creates a climate of forgiveness, acceptance and hospitality for anyone who will receive it. This is the way Jesus transformed the winter of Calvary into the springtime of Easter, and He has empowered us to do the same.

So no excuses for the winter doldrums. Reach out and be about the task of letting the love of God work in and through you. It may not melt snow, but it can melt hard hearts, closed minds and selfish spirits, our own and others.

Baxter's Weak Spot

Baxter has a weak spot. All cats do. Well, maybe it is better termed a “sensitive area.” It’s the belly. Most cats will not expose their bellies to scratches and petting. I thought the reason was that it was too much of a “dog thing," and after all, they are not dogs. But I learned that biologically cats’ bellies are very sensitive for them, and they protect them aggressively.

Baxter was that way for a while but soon he changed. As I told you in a previous column, when I come home after a few hours away, he comes to the door, falls on the floor in front of me and rolls over to have his belly gently scratched. He waits for me to respond, and he starts to purr and purr when I do. It has become the normal greeting ritual we use to say, “Hello, I’m back home. I missed you.” After a half minute or so of that, he jumps up and runs either to his dish for a treat or to the spigot for a drink, depending upon his fancy. Life quickly resumes its normal routine.

Sometimes we need to show our soft underside to each other as well. The work-a-day world is fast-paced, aggressive, hard-nosed and demanding. We have to be alert and on guard to keep up with the competition and make a success of our lives. We show our strengths, and we try to hide our weaknesses for fear that someone will find them out and take advantage of us. We want to look good, speak properly, act professionally and impress those who can help us to get ahead. “You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.” We work out deals to our advantage, or at least, to our mutual benefit. We trade our strengths to win.

So is it any wonder we often don’t feel at home with each other and our world? Home is a safe place where we don’t have to worry about gaining advantage or getting ahead. When we feel at home with each other, we’re not worried about showing our soft under belly. We trust each other not to take advantage of our vulnerabilities, but to draw close around them as the glue that bonds us as family and friends. Home is where we can be our complete selves—intelligent, strong and competent, but also sensitive, weak and caring. We are accepted for all of it and loved because of it.

God makes a home for each of us this way. He wants us to use and develop our talents and gifts, but He also loves us in our weakness and sin. He knows we are not perfect, and it is precisely here that He shows His deepest love. As Paul writes, “while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” To open ourselves to God’s love and to love each other in God, we have to grow in our trust enough to admit and share our weaknesses and vulnerabilities, not to justify them, but to heal and save them.

Nothing in my estimation is as smoothing as a cat’s purr. It communicates a sense of well-being and peace that is deep and satisfying. Purrs happen when someone discovers how to touch gently the cat’s sensitive spots. A light scratch on Baxter’s belly and his purr tells me I’m home again. In a different but similar way, our patient understanding can help each other to feel God’s light touch on our vulnerable spots and know His healing presence. Then, instead of purring, maybe we can begin to feel at home again with each other.

Baxter's Misled Appetite

Baxter’s appetite is led by his nose. If it smells yummy to him, he wants it. If I am cooking something whose aroma catches his fancy, he will start crying for a taste before it is out of the oven or off the stove top. He sits in the kitchen with his nose in the air sniffing, hoping to catch a delectable whiff of something that he can con me into sharing. Usually, I am strong and refuse his groping paw or plaintive meows or begging eyes. However, once in a while I weaken and give into his beckoning. Generally, this is a mistake. Except for fish and a little chicken, Baxter’s stomach doesn’t take to table food very well, and the evidence to prove this point is normally brought up on the floor within a half hour of consumption. Still, the clockwork reaction doesn’t stop him the next time from sniffing the air for what he thinks is scrumptious and begging for a sample. His desires are stronger than the reasonable conclusions he or I should draw from previous experience. At times, we both ignore our better sense and give in to the desire of the moment. Then what we think will be a tasty pleasure, more often turns out to be a smelly mess on the floor.

Like Baxter, we too can get caught up in the appeal of earthly desires, and these reach beyond the craving for fattening foods. Our ambition can drive us to lose touch with friends and family and our values just to get ahead in life. Our greed can entice us to cut corners on ethical practices or risk our basic resources on a gamble to get rich quick. Our sexual passions can lead us to abandon life-long commitments to feel the fire again. Whatever is driving us can ruin us, if we do not channel our desires to purposes bigger than ourselves and the moment before us. We need to stop and think. What are we doing and does it make sense in the big picture of our life?

Our decisions have consequences beyond ourselves. It is not simply a matter of what “I” want, but what effect my desires if carried out will have on me, those I love, and the larger community where I live. We are not isolated atoms, orbiting alone around each year of our lives. We are part of a universe of persons whose lives intersect for good or ill according to the terms we draw for our relationships. If the only concern is me, me, me, then we may feel good in our moment of satisfaction, but we may end up sick and regretful when the full picture of damaged trust, betrayed loyalty and uncertain reliability is revealed. The mess of damaged relationships is far greater and more long-lasting than any physical discharge. It is a scarred soul and lost opportunities for grace and depth of meaning to life.

Baxter can’t help himself when it comes to tempting food aromas. His instincts kick in, and he is a slave to his passions. We have more with which to work. God gave us a mind to judge the reasonable course in facing a decision, and a heart to care for our commitments to each other. Head and heart together can guide our passions to drive us to a depth of meaning for our lives that is both mysterious and enlightening. Use your head. Respect your heart. Filled with faith, they will not let us down, but will lead us to a holy life.

Baxter's Pet Therapy

Baxter isn’t my first cat. He’s my third. The first one I had only for a few months. I was a summer graduate student at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., and this little kitten was left on the front steps of the building where I was living for the summer. Since I was headed back to the seminary that fall, I couldn’t keep “Xenobia” beyond the summer term. Thankfully, I was able to find her a good home before I departed.

My second cat was “Gatto”, and we fell into each other’s lives as well. I moved into a new residence, and the previous occupants left their cat behind. At first, Gatto and I had a stand off, testing each other’s stubbornness. She wouldn’t abandon the back porch where I always came into the house from the garage, and I wouldn’t pay any attention to her meows as I was unlocking the back door. Finally, after months of this game of chicken, who will blink first, I succumbed. It was a blustery, cold winter night, and I got home rather late. She was plaintively crying in her usual spot, and I just couldn’t close the door on her in that frigid environment. She walked into the kitchen, down to the basement, and, well, she never left until she went to cat heaven.

Baxter was my choice — sort of. After Gatto died I greatly missed having a pet, but with all the surplus critters in the world, I couldn’t bring myself to get a designer cat. So I went to the cat house at Westmoreland County humane shelter and viewed the population. There were many from which to choose. Big, adult ones and little kittens, males and females, long hair and short hair, every color variety you could think of, all were up for adoption to a good home. But again, I didn’t really choose Baxter, he chose me. When I entered the “kitten room” for a look around, ten critters must have come over to me, but only one crawled up my leg crying to be held. That was Baxter. (Actually, his shelter name was “Elmer”, but I knew that had to change. He was much too coy and charming for that handle.) After I went home for a day to think about it, I returned and the rest is history. Baxter and I have been together for over ten years.

Pets teach us so much about ourselves and what grounds our lives. They force us to be disciplined about their care. Keep the litter clean if you don’t want a problem. Feed them good food to stay healthy. Respect their routines and their space, and they will manage themselves well. Pay attention to them with play and conversation and show them affection, and they will become faithful companions and loving creatures. We shape our responses to each other. Training is a two way street where we teach each other how to get the best from each other by giving our best to each other. Patience and perseverance are the hallmarks of loving someone enough to help them learn how to live with us, and us with them. Baxter and I taught each other how to give in to the other’s preferences without losing our self-respect. For instance, he knows not to jump onto the counters or table, and I know to turn the spigot on for him to get a drink. We try to please each other because we care for each other.

I mention these rules of living with my pet, because when I thought about them, they work for living with other creatures as well. If we want to learn to love each other, we need to follow the same basic rules. Not that other persons are our pets. We certainly can grow into a deeper and more reciprocal relationship with our friends and family than with our pets. But this doesn’t happen in some kind of esoteric and disembodied way. Our love for each other needs to be disciplined, respectful of each other, mutually efficacious, accommodating to each other’s wishes without being subservient, and patient and persevering. These qualities don’t come easily in a relationship, but without them, our relationships are superficial and one-sided. We get lost in each other rather than freed to be ourselves due to the confidence that only genuine love can bestow.

Today, many programs use pet therapy to get people to engage in their lives again, to overcome depression, isolation or the lethargy that convalescence can breed. God can use pet therapy to teach us how He loves us and how to love each other in God. He chooses us but we have to respond. He won’t give up on us, but we can’t give up on Him either. It takes a disciplined regimen to learn how to love God as He first loves us, with mutual respect and freedom to be ourselves. But the sacrifices it takes to care about God in our life and our world contribute much more to our living than they demand of us. They give us a faithful, divine companion whose relationship provides a key to what is true, good and valuable among the many choices we face in life. This direction will never lead us astray, but rather keeps us safe in the loving home God provides for us when we learn how to live with Him.

Three cats have taught me some things about caring for other living creatures. Three persons in one God can teach all of us much more about living together as companions on a journey to eternal life. Take God home with you today and rescue a life — your own.

Baxter's New Year's Resolution

Baxter is a creature of habit. You can set your watch by his daily routine. Eating, bathroom relief, naps, serious sleep, catnip sessions, snacks and brushings all fit into a very set pattern that may have minor adjustments, but no large variations. Try to change the order of life or the time for a daily habit, and Baxter isn't happy. His routine rules his life. It makes him feel safe and secure, and without it, he feels lost and afraid.

We all follow routines and habits. They make things easier at times. We don't have to think about what to do when; we just do it. A daily schedule helps keep life in order. Good habits preserve health, balance and a sense of well being. They can make some things in life effortless, and they assure that skills, attitudes and commitments we have made are preserved and grow deeper through the constancy of their regular practice. Good habits are an important part of being good.

Faith involves certain habits as well. Regular prayer and worship, telling the truth, keeping promises, helping others, admitting our faults and failings, sharing what we have are all part of a faithful Catholic Christian life, and we need to make them routine in our living. Worshipping once or twice a year or only on special family occasions will not form a person of prayer. Telling the truth only when it is convenient or pleasant won't make an honest person. Service done out of an obligation and generosity offered to impress others won't form a kind heart and magnanimous spirit. False humility to get another's pity or undeserved pardon isn't genuine sorrow for sin. It is easy to do almost anything once to get attention or satisfy a requirement, but it is difficult to make the habits of Gospel living a routine that fits hand in glove with how we conduct ourselves each day. It only comes with practice, practice, and more practice. These practices wear a groove of virtue into our character in time without our noticing the conditioning that's taking place. It just becomes who we are.

As we come to this New Year, what habits do we need to develop to become the persons God wants us to be? What do we have to take on, and what do we have to eliminate from our lives to be shaped differently than we are now? Our transformation won't happen over night. It's a slow, methodical change. We can't look for results too soon, but we can look for new routines to mark the course where we want to go. Then it's a matter of sticking to the new schedule and resisting excuses for not following it. It calls for making adjustments to stay on the path and marking progress one step at a time. It means valuing the accomplishment of each exercise we do, even if it didn't register some specific concrete result each time. Remember, the effects are often imperceptible in the immediate moment, but show themselves in the fruits of a whole lifetime. We are looking for long term gains in this investment, not for a get rich quick scheme that leaves us bankrupt in the long run.

Baxter doesn't like his habits disrupted, and for good reason. He knows that the important things in life are also fragile. They need constant care and attention. Good habits protect the values and beliefs we cherish with the hard shell of an established routine and disciplined schedule. It looks easy when our habits are in place for a while, but it takes some effort to start the practice and stay with it at first. So start today. Take on one new practice in the faith. Eventually, it will become second nature to you, God's nature, that makes us over into His children, disciples and friends. Happy New Year from Baxter and me!

Merry Christmas!

Some words provoke a reaction from Baxter. "Treats!", "Yums!", "Nip!" (for catnip) bring an immediate alert response. "Where is it? Let me at it!" Other words bring a calmer, more studied acknowledgement. For instance, when I say his name, "Baxter," he usually just flips his tail from one side to the other. Repeat the name, and the tail flips back. (That game can go on endlessly.) "Do you want to get brushed?" provokes a slower response still. Unlike the run for food, he meanders into the next room for his nightly grooming before bed. Words mean different things to Baxter, and he responds accordingly.

"Christmas" is a word that provokes a reaction in most of us. For some, it is a sense of anticipation, excitement and wonder. This is a season of good surprises, and we can't wait to see what's in store for us. For others, it is a sense of nostalgia. Memories of holidays past often fill us with a bittersweet feeling that mixes a sense of gratitude for what was with a sense of sadness that it is no more. For still others, Christmas brings hope and joy and peace. In the darkest part of the year, we see lights decorating our homes, window candles inviting visitors, and foods filling our senses with pleasure and satisfaction. Things aren't as bad as we think. We can get through the dark times, if we invite each other in and share the sweetness and warmth that we know how to create.

"Christmas" has a special meaning in our faith. It takes in the human responses we have to the season, but now it directs them to our God as the source and fulfillment of these desires. When God draws near, many surprises are in store for us. Think of the wonder and excitement underlying the Christmas story in the scriptures. Think further of the unexpected teachings, words of forgiveness and miracles in Jesus' ministry. Then, recall the end of the story. Darkness and pain seem to rule the day on Calvary, and the disappointment and sadness in the upper room is overwhelming for the disciples huddled in fear. Hopes are dashed over what could have been, and bittersweet memories linger of what they shared once in His ministry.

But then there is light. The glare that blinds the soldiers at the tomb says something great is happening here. The Risen Lord invites Himself into the disciples' locked hide-away, and He greets them with "Peace," gives them the power of forgiveness, and sends them out to continue His mission. Finally, He shares food with them, rich and special food, for they "recognized Him in the breaking of the bread."

The mysteries of our faith wrap around each other and wrap our lives with them. Christmas only takes on its full meaning when it includes the whole story of the mystery of our salvation, from conception to death and new life. Christmas gives us clues to where it is all going, and if we follow these clues through darkness into the light of new life, we will find a deeper meaning to the word than we can ever gather from special presents or childhood memories alone. God comes close at Christmas and begins the great journey of our salvation through the wilderness of our human condition. But the story doesn't end there. Finally, He comes home with us, not as a helpless infant to be coddled and amused, but as the Lord of Life to be followed and worshiped. The Christmas Eucharist brings this all together and creates a holiday fair that feeds our souls.

Some words can say a lot, if we understand them and respond properly. "Christmas" is that kind of word. From Baxter and me, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"