Saving the Light

A couple of weeks ago we began daylight savings time. We moved our clocks ahead one hour. It creates evenings because we shift the hours of light to later in the day. It means that at first we may have to awaken in darkness until the sunlight on the earth extends itself, but it gives us those long early summer evenings when we can be outside until after nine and still see our way about. We may lose a little sleep when this change of time first happens, but most people seem to adjust quickly and enjoy the light that comes with the new time scheme.

Baxter seems disconcerted by daylight savings time. As we know, he is a creature of habit, and his habits have to adjust with the change of time. I think this runs counter to his biological clock at first and his psychological equilibrium. While he gets his breakfast an hour earlier on daylight savings time Sunday, the interval between breakfast and dinner is the same length of time, but it looks differently with the extended daylight. There’s no evening twilight dinner for Baxter during daylight savings time. Perhaps he wonders why I can’t keep shrinking the period between meals, until his life becomes one continuous feeding frenzy. Whatever he thinks, Baxter gets confused and uncertain about what’s happening when the time change first occurs.

Christ saves the light for us. He doesn’t change any time measurements, but rather He becomes the source and measure of light for our lives. This is what He won for us at Easter. He overcame darkness at its root in all its forms of sin and death. Seen in the light of faith in the Risen Lord, sin is now forgiven and its damning effects reconciled by healing the separations and divisions it creates in our relationships - our relationships with ourselves, each other, all creation, and our God. Seen in the light of faith in the Risen Lord, death appears differently. It is not a dead end but a passage wayto new life. The grief and loss we feel are meant to lead us forward as believer’s in eternal life to find a deeper meaning in what we experience.

In the light of the resurrection, we come to appreciate and acknowledge the mystery that undergirds all that we think, feel and do in life. Its character is Love, unconquerable and unending, Divine Love which transforms our thinking into understanding, our feelings into reflections of its manifestations, and our actions into service. This loving mystery is the source of our hope, for it transforms all of our relationships into a great communion of life. We see ourselves as God’s children. We see each other as saints in communion with God. We see creation as God’s handiwork. In Christ’s resurrection, we see God differently, as the powerful, loving, Fatherly mystery embedded in all the relationships that make up our lives, shaping them to be loving, and carrying them into eternity to be with Him forever.

Like Baxter, living with the extra light may confuse us at first. We too are creatures of habit, and what we expect from life often gets stuck in shadows where we can’t see a way out. This Easter, look to Christ to extend the light by which we live.

Love A Parade

Baxter never leaves the house unescorted. Given his naivety about the big, bad world, I am afraid that, if he would venture out on his own, he would be prey to forces that would harm him. He lives the pampered life with his food provided without charge and many warm spots to bed down rent-free. In fact, Baxter doesn’t try to leave the house any longer. When he was younger, he yearned for the great outdoors. Now, he is curious, but not brave enough to step out. He enjoys looking out the door or window, but he soon turns and runs when there is any temptation to pass over the threshold. Baxter has made staying home a way of life.

Jesus’ life style is just the opposite. “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head,” we read in the gospels. Jesus is on the move throughout the story of our salvation. Between Judea and Galilee, among the towns and villages of Israel, from private houses to public buildings, in both rural and ancient urban settings He comes and goes, all the while preaching, teaching and working to bring about God’s Kingdom in our midst. Finally, He comes to Jerusalem for the last time on Palm Sunday. This is the final entrance to the Holy City during His earthly life, and it begins with a parade.

Parades are travel with spectacle. They occur for many reasons—celebrations, commemorations, acknowledgements, community participation. They usually involve some costumes, music, various groups moving together and spectators to watch or maybe join the parade. “Hosanna, to the Son of David!” was the theme of Jesus’ parade on Palm Sunday. It brought Him into Jerusalem with honor and acclaim, fanfare and special recognition. His way was laid out with palm branches because He earlier walked on water and cured the sick. It was a hero’s welcome for this itinerant preacher who held the promise of a messiah.

Yet, in a few days, He would be stopped in His tracks arrested, imprisoned, tortured, tried, sentenced to death and executed. The hero of the parade was soon recast as the criminal to both religious and civil society, and He was commanded to make one last journey to Calvary.

What a dramatic turn of events! Maybe Baxter has it right. Stay home; avoid danger; remain comfortable and safe. Too much movement and spectacle draw too much attention. It’s a dangerous world out there. We could get hurt, or worse, die, if we venture too far away from home.

But remember Jesus’ final journey to the Father. He had to pass through pain, suffering, rejection and death, but it didn’t end there. After the Good Friday procession in silence,there is the Easter parade in praise and thanksgiving for God’s victory over sin and death. Don’t be afraid to go out and spread the good news, to serve others in His name, and to seek out the lost and forgotten. Step out into the world with the Spirit of Christ, and you will cross a threshold to a new life with God.

-Monsignor Statnick

Getting Your Way

The other day I was eating graham crackers with milk. It is a throwback I enjoy from my childhood. Baxter got a whiff of the graham crackers, and he was obsessed with getting some. He jumped on a chair next to the one I was in at the table. He kept eyeing me and meowing. Finally, he began to grab my arm and pull it in his direction, hoping to get a morsel of cracker close enough for him to have a bite. He was persistent. Finally, I had to get him off the chair and tell him to settle down. He still continued to wait on the floor next to my chair, until finally I let him lick the crumbs from the plate after I was finished. Thank God for sterilizing dishwashers! We get this way sometimes, don’t we? Probably we’re not obsessed by graham crackers and milk, but by something that we set our heart on getting or achieving. Maybe it’s a person who catches our fancy. Maybe it’s a job we think is our ticket to success. Maybe it’s a car or house or boat or bike or some other thing that we can’t get out of our mind, can’t live without. We have our mind set on having it, and we can’t rest until we figure a way to get it.

That’s why we fast during Lent. We can get carried away by our desire for something or someone, and we lose perspective on our lives. We begin to see everything from the point of view of how we can get what we want, and we begin to lose sight of how we can give what we have. Fasting clears our vision, and helps us to focus on what matters.

We come to see how much we have been given - from our country of birth or adoption to our talents, family and friends. We realize that we did nothing to deserve these gifts. They came to us with the gift of life itself, and they are resources we can call upon for the rest of our lives. We have added to these gifts by our education and training, the social networks we’ve developed, and the opportunities that have come our way. Of course, we had to invest time and effort in all of these, but they all began with many happy coincidences, chances to set out anew, invitations to broaden our worlds with new people and ventures. This is the hand of God’s Providence caring for us and beckoning us to help Him shape our lives to better reflect His image.

Rather than grab for what He has, as Baxter does with the food he likes, God gives from the store of His boundless goodness, so that we might learn how to do the same. It’s the lesson hidden in our fasting. Reach for less so that we can realize how much we have been given. Want less so that we can appreciate all that we have. Give more of our time, talent and treasure so that others  and our world grow richer through us. Fasting may make us hungry for a short while, but if we learn its lesson, we will feel more satisfied with the many blessings that fill our lives.

-Monsignor Statnick

Messy Living

Living with a pet is messy. It’s not that everything is out of order and in chaos, but a person has to accept a certain amount of untidiness, if he or she is going to have a pet. With Baxter, I sweep up grains of litter from the bathroom floor once or twice a day. They fall from his paws when he jumps from the box. He isn’t the neatest diner either. He splashes his water, getting it to move before he drinks it, and he throws his kibble on the floor. (He takes too much into his mouth at one time, and when he chomps down on it, the excess spews out.) Then there is the cat hair.

The extent of this problem is seasonal. During shredding time, there are fluffs of cat hair in various corners and under numerous pieces of furniture. At other times of the year, the hair blizzard diminishes to a sprinkle of strands here and there. Although he is brushed vigorously daily, Baxter will never totally overcome his problem of loose hair dancing through the air and clinging to clothes.

This messy picture is the cost of having a pet. Most pet owners pay this fee without them, but it would also be lonelier, duller and less interesting.

God works in the same way. He accepts the messiness of our lives because He loves us so much and doesn’t want to live without us. He realizes that this involves Him in our sin, but He has a way to handle the situation. Jesus is the Way, the way to the Father through the dirt and litter that lines human life. His cross characterizes our lives as stricken by the effects of sin and evil in the world, but also as redeemed by the power of His Spirit to forgive and heal. It’s a messy journey, marked by suffering, rejection, doubt and fear, but in the end, we all discover that it is worth it. Joy, peace and gratitude come when we live in communion with God who lives with us.

The Sacrament of Penance is how we celebrate this reality in our lives now. The conversation between priest and penitent sets the path for God’s grace to be disclosed. There is no room for harsh judgments here. If God accepts the messiness of the human condition as the arena for His salvation, how can we demand something else? Our struggle to speak our sins clearly and completely in this sacrament is the cross where we kill our egos and their arrogance. In turn, God lays out His mercy as the tomb to receive our sins and  complaint. They do the cost benefit analysis and decide that the companionship, joy and satisfaction that come from beloved pets are worth the mess. Life would be neater without bury them. Finally, we depart this sacrament with a resolve to try again, because we appreciate more fully the power that forgiveness and healing can bring. Both priest and penitent are touched with grace in this sacrament, because we rise to a better life every time we forgive and are forgiven.

As long as we have a pet, we will live with some mess. As long as God claims us as His people, He will also have our messes on His hands. But in Christ He has a way to handle them. Sacraments of Divine Mercy touch us and sweep them away.

-Monsignor Statnick

Waiting for the Reunion

I keep my car in the garage attached to the house where I live. So whenever I leave or return in my car, I have to open and close the garage door. This has become a cue for Baxter. I don’t know what he does when I leave, since I am on my way and out of earshot of his voice. But whenever I return, Baxter’s routine is unchanging. Once I hit the button to close the garage door, he starts crying for me to come home. I hear him through the door that connects the garage to the kitchen, and if I tarry in the garage for some reason, his greeting becomes louder and more persistent. He sits inside the kitchen door waiting for my return, and protesting about why it is taking so long. Once I’m inside, he rolls over on his back and wants a stomach scratch. Then all is right with the world again. I am where I belong, and Baxter is assured that he isn’t alone any longer.

Our pets want us with them. They miss us when we are gone, and they welcome us when we return. They don’t care if we come home dirty and sweaty from hard work, tired and cranky from a disturbing day, or happy and excited with good news. They want us with them however our disposition may be. It’s that unconditional acceptance that so attaches us to them. If others won’t talk to us, don’t care about our day, lay another agenda on us when we get home, our pets are just happy to see us, to have us with them to complete the family. When we aren’t there, they feel that something is missing for them, and they yearn for our return.

God regards us in the same way. God misses us when we aren’t at home with Him. He sees us as part of His family, and the group is incomplete when one of His children is missing. He doesn’t care what we bring when we come home, pleasant surprises or difficult problems, a cheery smile or a down-in-thedumps frown. He wants us home, however we present ourselves. Our presence, our companionship is important to our God, and He will go out of His way to lure us back to Him. This message fills the gospels.

The story of the Prodigal Son is probably the best illustration of God’s longing for us. But there are so many other examples of His unconditional love and acceptance. Leprosy doesn’t keep Jesus away, nor does any kind of sin. He holds conversations with a Roman centurion, a Samaritan woman and a demoniac without disdain for these unacceptable sorts. He feeds the hungry. He doesn’t send them away. He answers questions from the rich and the poor, from the learned and the ignorant. When He is dying on the cross, He has conversations with His mother, the beloved disciple, and criminals alike, never failing to comfort and reassure them. He shares dinner with the distinguished and the lowly, and He is comfortable with whatever they bring to the table, challenging questions or tears of remorse and contrition. Jesus is the face of God in these scenarios, and what we see is a God more comfortable in our skin than we are at times, embracing our humanity, whatever its condition, with His grace.

This Lent, let us not be afraid to come home to God, no matter where we have been or how long we have been away. He misses us. He is sitting at the door of our hearts crying for us to open them. Don’t keep Him waiting any longer.

Keeping Warm

Winter is a tough season on living creatures. Baxter is no exception. He craves heat during these cold, dark and windy days. He often lies against the heat vent to get the full effect of the furnace. Once down, he curls into a ball to expose as little of his body surface as possible. Sometimes, for a diversion, Baxter thinks he wants to go for a walk in the garage, but as soon as I open the door, he realizes how cold it is out there and does a 180° turn to retrieve the warm, cozy temperatures. Baxter doesn’t like the cold, and luckily, with his pampered life style, he doesn’t have to go out in it.

We aren’t that lucky though. We have to confront the cold, and not just the low temperatures on the thermometer. We face a world where people are cold to each other. We look upon our fellow human beings as problems, competitors or even enemies, and once we label another this way, we find it hard to offer respect, care, compassion, forgiveness and community—all those things which can potentially warm our relations with each other. We need an ice breaker to come between us, to clear the way to take a second look and see our common bonds with each other.

Our faith is this vessel to break through the frozen straits of partisanship. We believe that God made us in His image as His children, so we are brothers and sisters in the Lord and fellow disciples on life’s journey. These categories should create warm waters around us where we can live and work together, where we help each other, and where no one is abandoned in their suffering. Therefore, we begin with this vision before us to face the cold facts of our harsh world and solve the problems they create.

The refugee is a neighbor. The drug addict is a wounded brother or sister. The poor have a place at our table. The unborn and the elderly are precious members of the human family. How we include these and other vulnerable persons in our world can be challenging dilemmas, but we must first view them as persons, not problems, as companions on mother earth not competitors for limited resources; as people who want respect for their traditions, safety for their homelands and a good life for their children not enemies on battlefield earth.

The cold can make us want to crawl into a ball, hide inside and attack anyone who threatens our warm space. Cats deal with it that way. God’s children deal differently. Whatever the temperature is outside, may the gift of grace warm our hearts to see each other as God sees us.

Happy Birthday, Baxter

Baxter is having a birthday this weekend. He is sweet sixteen! While that is a young and fresh age for us, humans, for cats, sixteen places him in the senior ranks. Baxter does show his age, and mainly in two ways. He has slowed down. While he can still run to fetch a piece of kibble or when he goes into one of his “crazy” jamming sessions from room to room, most of the time, Baxter saunters to where he wants to be. He has come to realize that for most things in life, there is no need to hurry. Age has a way of putting him at ease while it reduces his pace.

Baxter’s age has also made him more affectionate. When he was a young, cool cat, Baxter warmed up to people on his terms. If I had something he wanted, he was all purrs and cuddles, but if the time or mood didn’t suit him, he was aloof and untouchable, shunning any attempts at petting or holding him. Now though, it’s a different story. Baxter seeks my company at various times throughout the day, and he purrs whenever I touch, pet or scratch him. He crawls on my lap several times a day, and he waits at the door when I come home, even if he has already been fed. In his senior years, Baxter has become a softy.

These changes In Baxter’s attitude can apply to us as well. We need to learn how to slow down. Sometimes we can get caught up in all that needs done that we don’t recognize how supercharged we are. We go from activity to activity, scheduled event to scheduled event without thinking about what we are doing, and at the end of the day, we wonder why we are exhausted. Life becomes a series of jobs we check off when completed, and we begin to wonder where this hectic treadmill is taking us. When we slow it down, we still have as much time in the day, but now it is filled with savoring a few things and appreciating what they reveal about the meaning and purpose of our lives. A treadmill gets us nowhere, but a walk in the park alone or with your spouse can show you how God is our companion each day.

Also, we can learn to accept genuine affection when it comes our way, and to offer it whenever we can. As the maturity that can come with age allows us to be less and less self absorbed, we need to appreciate what others have given us and value their companionship. Those who stood by us when times were tough, those who counseled us without demanding our agreement, those who put up with our anger, moodiness and stone silence without returning it in kind, those who wanted only the best for us and didn’t see us as rivals, all these deserve to know we hold them dearly and are shaped by their love. Here the Lord Jesus showed His face through the faces of those who were His disciples in our lives.

Cool cats are young, rambunctious and full of themselves. Mature cats are confident but humble, and warm towards others. Despite what we lose through the passing of the years, we gain so much more that really matters. Let us take time this Lent to cut our losses and consolidate our gains, to be less harried and more at peace, to abandon our cool veneer and show our true affections. Then we may know that although we are getting older, God is making us better with age. Happy Birthday, Baxter.