Lessons from William M. Joel, Philosopher, or, Fantasy vs Reality

Conformity vs Non-conformity.

Bland vs Edgy

Safety vs Risk

Cowardice vs Courage

Obedience vs Rebellion

All of these comparisons. So little truth. Think of how a young person judges whether or not something is cool. Or whatever the term that is now cool instead of cool. Sick? Whatever. Is it common? Is it original?

Really, what is meant, is, what group does it identify me with? How does it brand me?

Because really, folks. Nothing is new. Just like the word says. No. Thing. If you are trying not to conform to say, what "society" says is "normal," all you are doing is conforming to what popular culture says  is cool, rad, sick, progressive, alternative, etc. But is it? Or is it about finding a way to define yourself as special? To define yourself as being loved? (by the ____ group).

Let me try to sketch out a very basic example.

A young girl, let's say, projects her identity out to the world through her clothing, at least in many cases of American girls. If she picked up somewhere that she deems cool,  the message that to be a feminine looking girl is not very cool, she will not like the look of herself in a dress. It will not fit with the image of herself she wants to project. If she gets positive feedback from the group that is informing her ideas, then she is comfortable. If some other (non-cool) group compliments her on a day she must wear a dress, it not only does not make her feel good about the dress, but extra bad, because this is the group that she wants to distance herself from. A common occurrence, ever since the invention of teenagers, right?

After all, the great philosopher, Willam Martin Joel, said, "I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, the sinners are much more fun." Of course, if he had written that in today's jargon, he would have put it more like, "I'd rather crusade with the alternative lifestyle warriors than bitterly cling to the Bible and maybe a gun." His way was a bit catchier.

If any of you reading are over the age of, say 40- ish, you may be realizing that being one of the sinners was not indeed the fun we once thought. It may have seemed so in the moment, but some of us are still reaping the "rewards"of some of our Billy Joel moments, and may now know better.

So, you get where I am going. There is no non-conformity. There is no edginess. There is no such thing as standing up to societies norms. There is only choosing who/what you will conform to. No human person can reinvent the wheel of what it is to be human. We can have a personal style, a way of being in the world, but when we base it on rebellion against xyz, we are fooling ourselves.

Especially in our current culture. This culture dictates with an iron fist that we must never, no not ever, call a thing right or wrong. To do that is to JUDGE (gasp). Oh, but wait a sec, there are some things which not only are we free to judge, but in fact MUST be judged, and we will be told how.

1. Do not ever utter a word against any (xyz) "alternative" lifestyle. (read: homosexual) You are then the worst person who ever lived on the earth.  (No distinction between the person and the lifestyle is allowed to be made).

2. DO rant and rave about anyone who does believe in God, who does believe there is objective truth, and paint them as The Oppressor. This is by far the coolest eh-vehr position to have. Those people need to be silenced. They may not breathe the same air as the cool ones.

Here is the Wisdom of the Ages from the Bible:

What has been, will be again. What has been done, will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.
Ecclesiastes 1:9


We all share the cloak of humanity. We are, at once, all individuals, and all a collective. God treats each one with the utmost respect by giving us free will that He will not violate. But, our human condition can only innovate so much until we just repeat the same mistakes over and over.

Pride is our hallmark. The "I will not serve" that is resident in all our hearts, has been with us since the Fall. When we think we are going against the mainstream, when we think we have found a way to call everything  "okay" and thus create peace, we are just repeating what ancient societies have tried over and over. All to just escape that awful thing that is labeled Conformity, or worst of all Obedience.


The grand irony, is that the most counter-cultural thing of all is to be radically obedient to Christ. To bow our heads and our hearts to the ultimate Truth. If you want to go completely against the current Norm, try to be a faithful Christian. It ain't easy. You will be opposed at every turn. You will be opposed by the people you love the most. By family. Friends. Yes, the dreaded Society.

This is what takes real courage, real risk. Want to be stretched intellectually? Try reading St. Thomas Aquinas. Try reading the Church Fathers. Those guys used their intellects to the degree which, for us, would be the breaking point.

In the Gospel, in the Church, resides the Ultimate rebellion. Christ destroys death. It can't get any edgier than that. The Radical of Radicals, He hung on the cross, that so we would not ultimately lose our lives, he gave His.

Oh, you can say that you aren't going to go along with how God made you in some way, you can dress yourself as whatever you want, you can yell at the top of your lungs against Him all day long. Try as we might, none of us can defeat reality, defeat Truth. There is one certain Prince of Darkness that would love for all of us to go on trying. He has already lost that war, but misery loves company, and he would love to have us as company for eternity. However, God has seen to it that we can be happy with Him forever, in the great Company of the Angels and the Saints, of life and love.

We will all face our own earthly death.The great leveler of playing fields. The human condition that we all share. It will not matter then how we have dressed ourselves up, only if we have dressed our souls with Christ.

There is no human on earth right now that He has not died for. No one who is out of the reach of His love.

Try reading  this aloud to yourself, slowly. I dare you.

 O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.  You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.  Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.  You hem me in--behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.  Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?  If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,  even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.  If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,"  even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.  For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,  your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.  How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you. If only you would slay the wicked, O God! Away from me, you bloodthirsty men!  They speak of you with evil intent; your adversaries misuse your name.  Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD, and abhor those who rise up against you?  I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies.  Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 139

Hope

 This is my humble little plot of soil; my haven and place to go look at green things and whatever I plant each year, usually leftover Easter bulbs. A few years ago I saved a struggling mint plant from the Acme, and it voraciously took over the whole place, climbing all over everything with runners galore. We had a little taste of spring a few days ago, so I went out back and puttered about, pulling out all the dead (and surprisingly, some still alive), mint; and underneath was this! My bulbs are already trying to come up! This filled me with hope. Despite the cold, harsh, snow and ice filled winter we have had; despite the raging mint; despite the fact that the bulbs were not planted with any expertise, (or even any order); there they are! They bring so much excitement and anticipation. they are an assurance that Spring is indeed, on the way, though it be some weeks yet, these little sprouts trumpet that winter is not going to last forever!

Several years ago, I went to speak to a priest for a little spiritual direction session. I was a baby convert, still in a bad relationship, just a little prior to meeting Bob. I was in a charismatic prayer group, and this priest operated in those veins also. ( Don't get all spooked out, it was all done within Church guidelines, and he in particular is a level headed guy). I was talking about my life situation, and how I was trying to move forward, but many things were difficult and it was slow going. He prayed for me, and told me that he saw a picture of a frozen over field or garden. (in his mind-- again, no booga booga here) He said that it wasn't going to stay like that forever, but a thaw was coming and he saw little green shoots coming up. What a picture of hope! God knew I would so identify with that illustration, and that I needed to know the season I was in was not going to go on indefinitely. That priest often said things, either to me, or in homilies that were pivotal to my life. He doesn't even know the impact his words had; how his sensitivity and obedience to the Lord reached right out and helped this baby convert along.



We are going through a very rough weather period in our Church. It won't be like this forever. We can have hope, because we know the ending already. However, in a homily I heard recently, we were reminded that we pick up our crosses, not to lay them down each night, but to follow our Lord. Following where?  Calvary, and maybe even get up there and suffer and die with Him, before we get to rise with Him. I guess it really is going to be that time when we as Catholics have to set aside complacency, learn our faith, and live it.

a Sunday thought

When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, "I used everything you gave me".
 Erma Bombeck

For the past few days, I have been using some of Erma's funny quotes for my facebook status. To me, the funniest things are the truest things. This one stood out though, as being true in a profound way. It reminds me of St. Therese of Lisieux and her Little Way.

It is something like this--to love and accept completely the people and tasks God has put in my life. To do the routine things with faithfulness and joy, offering them to God, knowing that the great things are out of my reach. In so doing, the little things become great.  Like the widow's mite, or the loaves and fish.

Whatever I am given to do on a certain day, let me do it to the best of my ability, and not forget love. The world has enough clanging symbols. The uncanny thing is, when I strike out in some direction out of obedience, I am often just at the beginning of some unseen road, and where that road leads, I can never foresee.

"Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love." St. Therese of Lisieux, The Little Flower   

Now, to depart completely from the higher things in life, to this.

My dear husband Bob has a habit of mixing up words while typing, such as interchanging bear and bare, etc...

Here are two of his best.

Recently our basement took on a smell that was exactly like a litterbox overdue for cleaning. Except we don't have a cat. We had no idea where it was coming from. Our landlord, David,  (the nicest landlord on the planet) was coming to do some maintenance, so Bob emailed him to tell him about the smell.  He stated that there was a fowl odor in our basement. When Bob got home from work, it was all I could do not to cluck.

But this one is for the record books. Our youngest, Malaika, goes to our parish school, St. Monica's. Over the years, we have had to appeal to our pastor, Father Kelley, for a bit of leeway here and there in order to manage our tuition payments. One time, Bob emailed him explaining our latest late payment (?). He added at the end, " I hope this doesn't cause you any incontinence".

Silly typo?

A chuckle.

Silly typo to a priest? 

Priceless.