Teacher, Teacher...

We all remember with fondness (or lack of) elementary school. I'm sure we remember that there were, and still are, subjects that we seem to understand better that others. Because of our background; that is our childhood, our education, our environment, and our own innate capabilities we have a slightly nuanced approach to life.

Back to grade-school: I am a teacher with a class of twenty students (all you teachers out there, stop rolling your eyes, I know it should really be about 35 students but only 28 desks and 25 books) and I am teaching them basic algebra. First, it must be assumed that if I am teaching algebra I know algebra (again, teacher stop laughing) and I'm not just making it up as I go. Again, not only must I know algebra but know it well enough to spot mistakes and teach it. But here's the problem: as stated above, everyone of those twenty students is different. I can teach algebra to the class. The entire class got the same lecture, same examples, same worksheets, same everything. So why do some excel, some fail, and some inhabit that squishy middle section we call "average"?

There will be a certain percentage that will immediately grasp the concepts, will excel, and will move on to higher math with little interference. Albeit this is a very small percentage. Then there is the opposite end of the spectrum that is also a small percentage of those who will fail. There are many questions that arise when you have some excelling and others failing. Finally, there is that large middle-range of those who are not excelling or failing but muddling through. Let's take each in turn:

Those who excel: Are they born smarter than the others? Probably not. I'm not aware of any scientific test that can be performed to distinguishes two normal human brains and determine one is smart and the other dumb. Is it environment? Did the parents or previous teachers provide an environment that nurtured the development of engagement with regards to academic study? Is it possible that they have a personality that inclines them to pay attention better? It's not that they are any smarter, they just listen. Instead of playing with their shoes or drawing on their worksheet they are actively engaged in the lesson. However the understanding occurs; it does, in a tangible and demonstrable way.

Those who fail: Again, are they born dumber than the others? And again, probably not. However, study after study has shown that if parents do not value education and create and environment that encourages exploration and the desire to learn, the children have a high risk of academic failure, or struggle at the very least. This is not to say that a kid raised by parents who have no education and don't care about education and even ridicule a child attempting an education won't excel, just that the odds are not in his favor. There is another factor here. The kid could come from a very different background than one that is anti-intellectual, in fact the opposite. The background could be one of entitlement and expectation (on the kid's part). If the child is raised in such a way that they are given all they desire without any expectation on their part, what are they learning? Why should I bother to learn, I get whatever I want whether I know this or not, whether I get good grades or not. It's not that the child has the cards stacked against him or that he is antithetical to learning, he just doesn't care, because he doesn't have to. These are the kids who are playing with their shoe-strings and drawing on their worksheets. And, again, this is shown in a very tangible way: lack of understanding.

Then there is the middle: these are the kids that represent most of us. They somewhat get get. They try. They get get some right, some wrong, but ultimately it prove that they have a working understanding but not a spectacular showing. In other words; they are average.

In end, however, what cannot be said is that it's the teacher's fault. All the students were presented with the same material that of an appropriate level as their grade suggests. All were given the same opportunity to see examples, to ask questions, etc. The difference is the student. Some will hang on the teacher's every word, internalizing the lesson so that it becomes ingrained in them and algebra becomes second-nature. Others will listen as best they can, and will for the most part get it. They will make many, many mistakes, but they genuinely want to learn. If the don't succeed by natural ability they will succeed by perseverence. Then there are the those who don't listen, don't care, and will not learn. They will not learn, not because they can't but becasue they won't. They would rather sleep, pass notes, whatever. And in the end, they will fail.

We are all given the same lecture. Granted, we all come with different burderns. It will be easy for some and incredibly difficult for others. However, ultimately, it is our choice. It is each of us that excel or fail or waver in mediocrity. It's not our parents, our environment, or anything but us. So what are we doing. Are we listening intently or playing with our shoes-string?

Fight the Good Fight

I don't know why (probably because I'm teaching a class on the Book of Job), but I've been thinking a lot about evil and the nature of, well, bad things that happen. Before I go any further I want to say that Job is not a book about evil. It is about the theological implications of suffering and how that relates to God and man. I simply said; it got me thinking about evil. I suppose we could argue that suffering is evil, if we were so inclined, but I don't think that is a very strong position. I was more thinking about the existence of evil and how there are many people who use the tangible reality of evil to claim God does not exist. So I'll do a few things in this short post: First, we should define evil. Then, just to clear it up, I'll demonstrate why I think it is erroneous to lump suffering (general) in with evil. Finally, in a very brief way, I hope to show that the reality of evil does not disprove God rather it acts as evidence for Him.

So, evil: the opposite or absence of good. Physical evil (like natural disasters, illness, etc.) is the result of being "en route" in a fallen world towards perfection in God where the possibility must exist for the less-perfect to be alongside the more-perfect. Moral evil is the free choice to sin, that is the freedom to act against God and thus against perfection. This evil is permitted to allow for and to respect free-will. (Catechism of the Catholic Church).

Why don't I think all suffering should be lumped in with evil? I'll have to break suffering down. The first reason is that when people speak of suffering (when rendering it evil) are talking about physical suffering. Here I mean physical as opposed to spiritual, not as opposed to mental; many mental sufferings have a physical cause and are treatable through physical means. Some not all of our physical sufferings aren't even sufferings at all because we intend them; like soreness after exercise or the pain from vaccinations, etc. Self-inflicted suffering for a good cannot be evil. Then there is the other self-inflicted suffering; the unintentional. This is the suffering that we bring on ourselves though mis-calculation (like, say, a sports injury). I certainly could not maintain with any theological certainty that because I hit myself with my surfboard trying to do a trick I never should have tried that God does not exist, or that what happened is evil. Then there is the self-inflicted suffering that that is unintentional but is a result of abuse of freedom, like the suffering that comes from drug abuse. Of course, there is always the unintentional, not self-inflicted suffering. This type is easier to regard as evil, given the definition above.

Unintentional suffering that is not self inflicted is the closest variation that we can really call evil. The famous atheist of the early 20th century Bertrand Russell once commented that a telling a child who is dying in a hospital bed that God loves him and he is going to heaven is not really any consolation at all. True. But what can an atheist like Russell say to that same child, "Sucks to be you"? If evil is the absence of good several implications are made. The most important being that when something is declared evil it implies that there is some objective, universal thing we call "good" that it is being measured against. For Christians, and most other theists, this objective and universal good we would call God, or at the very least an attribute of God. Essentially, for evil to exist it's opposite must exist, and that is God. This is because evil in-and-of itself is nothing, it is only the absence of good. Think darkness. Darkness is nothing. Darkness is only the absence of light. Darkness can only exist where light is not. They are not equals. Light always conquers dark. So, one more time, evil is nothing, it is the absence of good. Evil can only exist where good is not.

The other implication is the problem. If there is a universal, objective good that we measure evil against, then we must concede that there are absolute truths. If something is good it is always good. Evil is always evil. If not, we have nothing. If there is no objective, unchanging good then all this talk about good and evil is pointless. If good and evil are constructs of my own mind then they are just as meaningless as any other construct of my mind and only bear any weight so far as I can force others to follow them. If you and I are allowed to differ greatly on what we consider good and evil then the idea and the term are arbitrary. If they are arbitrary, they are nothing. I hope you catch where this must logically follow.

If there is no objective good then there is no objective evil. On the surface this may not sound bad. What it really means is that all of life boils down to different strokes for different folks. Again, not so bad, until my strokes and your strokes are in disagreement. Then it comes down to contest of strength: might makes right. Hitler wasn't really evil, he just had a different idea of good than we do and he had the power to institute his view of life, but we can't say that he is evil, that would be forcing our morals on him, and that's not right. But wait, the idea that it's not right to force your moral view on others is statement of objectivity. So if I think it's right to force a morality and you think it's wrong, you can't tell me I'm wrong, that would be asserting an objective morality. In the end, we have to either admit that absolutes and objective good exists and evil is the absence or opposite of that good, or we must jettison the whole idea of good and evil and start our new life in the Thunderdome.

Either God exists, or evil does not.       

Signs of Life

Yesterday we got into a discussion about signs. It went back and forth over the topics of what signs are, should we look for signs, should we ask for signs, etc. On one hand Jesus tells the Pharisees that he will not be giving them a sign. This is not because he can't or there is anything wrong with signs, he is only telling them that they have been given signs non-stop for thousands of years, up to and including Himself and they ignored them. Why should they be given another? Essentially, Jesus is saying we don't need signs, everything we need has already been provided, just do it. On the other hand, in the lives of the saints and even the apostles, we find God offering them a non-coercive but easily understandable sign of His will for them to accept of reject. In our own lives, if we are honest, we (probably in hind-sight) can recognize the moments God made His will manifest to us in a particular way. So should we look for signs? The issue made me think of an analogy, follow me if you will:

What is a sign? Let's say it's something that gives evidence of a presence or offers a clue toward direction. For example, God giving you a sign that He is with you or God giving you a sign of His will, or rather the direction He wants you to move. On to the analogy:

Let's say I'm a soldier (I wasn't a soldier, I was a Marine, big difference). Anyway, let's say I'm patrolling through the jungle hunting an enemy platoon. I will pay attention in a way that is very different than a leisurely stroll through the park. I will look for indications (that would be signs) of the enemy's presence or direction; things like snapped twigs, over-turned leaves, a piece or thread on a branch, or boot-prints. These things are often so small that if I am not looking for them I would walk right by and possibly right into an ambush. To further the analogy, it's not enough that I be on the lookout for signs, I have to be trained and experienced enough to know what I'm looking for, otherwise I may mistake something for a sign that will send me in the wrong direction, or even worse, it could be a trick and a trap. What I'm getting at here is that recognizing and interpreting a sign or signs is much more involved than simply asking for them.

Very often if we are looking for a sign we will find one, and amazingly, it will tell us exactly what we want! Everything we are tempted to take as sign needs to be run past the Pathfinder, because he knows the difference. It would do us well to remember St. Paul instructing us that even if an angel should tell us something contrary to the gospel it is a lie and he is no angel but a demon of hell. A big part of a mature spirituality is the recognition that we don't know and in many ways can't know so long as we're on this side of eternity. We need a Pathfinder to help us read the signs correctly, so we don't walk into an ambush.

Some will say, "If you're looking for signs you will see them whether they are real or not." This is true, at least to a degree, and on par with reading the horoscopes. What the person making this kind of assumption fails to note is the distinction in spiritual growth. A person in their spiritual infancy must be wary reading signs into everything because, like the inexperienced soldier, will see the enemy behind every rock and tree. The trained and experienced soldier knows what to look for and what to ignore, so it should stand to reason that he will "see" more signs and interpret them correctly. In the spiritual life this comes through taking time to study and learn but most importantly taking time to be in God's presence. Just as in tracking your enemy through the jungle, if you are on the right trail the sign will become more apparent and easier to read. And just like that patrol, the closer you get the louder and more distinct the signs are because they aren't just clues of a platoon that passed by hours ago but they are the actual sound of their voices and the rattle of their equipment.

Now, to get off the military analogy. Think about the Christmas song "Do You Hear What I Hear?" It's about signs and how we recognize and interpret them. The song begins with Creation asking the lamb if it has noticed what is happening. It goes on to the shepherds and the magi, all them being asked, essentially, "Did you read the signs? Do you get it?" They do, of course, because they were already on the path and they knew what they were looking for. They read the signs as clues to what was coming and when they got closer they finally understood what all the signs had been pointing to, or they recognized the direction they supposed to go and they went. The huge difference comes in with (not in the song, in real life) the ways the signs are interpreted. The shepherds, the magi, and others read the signs and came to see the Christ-child who will save the world. Herod (who couldn't read the signs and had to them explained by the magi because he didn't even notice them) interpreted the Child as a threat to his power. Just something to think about these last few weeks of Advent.    

Three Little Birds

Before you read this I humbly request you listen to Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds".

So, our Clementine tree is full of fruit, and yesterday it looked like we should be able to pick it today. Every time I see that tree, with the fruit slowly ripening, it reminds to keep things simple. It reminds of the joy found in simplicity. The theological concept of simplicity ties in with the previous post concerning non-attachment. But talking about simplicity and non-attachment also brings up a host of issues that have to be worked out be each person on their own terms.

Simplicity is not being lazy, cheap, or irresponsible. The purpose of simplicity is to free us from the desires of the world so we can pursue God with our whole being. Simplicity, at least in large part, is pretty subjective. For instance you may really be attached to something like cars whereas I could care less about cars so long as it can carry surfboard and has an A/C. But then again, you could maybe careless about surfboards, or to a greater degree, living in place you can surf (that's a strong attachment). What this means is that to achieve a degree of simplicity of life is something we have to judge for ourselves in so far as we are able to measure the extent that we are attached to world and the extent to which the distractions of a hectic life impede spiritual progress. Simplicity is a major theme in contemplative religious orders; the simpler our lives the fewer things calling for our attention. A Trappist will own nothing and live in very sparse conditions because he knows that through a renunciation of material goods he is free of all the complications and distractions that come from them, he is simple.

How are we, the laity, supposed to achieve simplicity? After all, if we have a family we have to house, clothe, and feed that family. As much as I would like to, I don't think I could get away with wearing the same thing to work everyday. Because of where I live it would be nearly impossible to get rid of my car. So what can we do? In a very rudimentary sense this is where people like Dave Ramsey and a few others make sense (albeit at an extremely basic level). To get out of debt, to not owe anybody anything, to only have what you can pay for, this is a starting place only because lack of debt frees you. To remove the obstacle of financial debt is not only physically freeing but it is  huge mental burden released. Now you can concentrate on God instead of car payments (notice I don't say mortgage payments; I am a realist). I do know that when my mortgage is paid off I will have a party.

Back to the topic: Simplicity and non-attachment go hand-in-hand. To remove attachment is to simplify. To simplify is to begin to know true freedom; why? Because we know that the "Truth will set us free". Once we begin the process of simplification we begin the process of recognizing our buyer's remorse and return the lie we bought; that the world would provide contentment and stuff would make us happy and free.

In a practical sense, think about the things that pull at you the hardest. I mean, of course, the bad things, not things like family or community. Although even these can be detrimental to the extent they distract us from our real mission, to know God. See what I mean about it getting difficult? Anyway, go back to those things that pull and distract, the useless things. How about the TV or the Internet? How about work (yes, Dad, I said work)? For an example I'll use TV. Most of us know we spend too much time watching TV and even if we don't (don't know or don't admit), we would probably agree that at a point we are using TV as a distraction. Let me qualify this by saying I am the last person that is going to say something like we shouldn't watch TV because it isn't productive. The Cult of Productivity is one the deadliest heresies in American culture. But, instead of TV you could be engaged in something that you are really passionate about, something that leads you into the eternal (like creating art or music, for instance). It is also possible that what takes the place of TV could be nothing. How may of us would love time to do nothing? Use the time to take a walk or sit on the patio, learn to enjoy the world God has created for us.

If nothing else, Advent is beginning in week or so, use the time to lose something and gain something. See how you like it.       

What is a Contemplative Life?

Gary Norbraten http://www.blaryphotography.com/

As I've been writing these few posts it hit me that I haven't taken the time to actually discuss what this contemplative life I'm trying to sell is all about. I'll tell you first, and I hate to ruin it for you, it's not about laying around in hammock all day in varying degrees of sobriety. Before we get into what constitutes contemplative life we need to know what we mean by contemplation. Before we define contemplation we have to define prayer, as contemplation is form or fruit of prayer. So, here we go...

Prayer, as defined by the Church, is "the life of the new heart" and "ought to animate us at every moment". It is the "elevation of the heart and mind to God in praise of His glory" (Catechism of the Catholic Church 2559-2565). Prayer is essential to the process of becoming contemplative to the degree that we really become aware of what we are doing and who we are talking to. It's not about words or lack of words or whether everyone else hears you or not. St. John Chrysostom said, "Whether or not our prayer is heard depends not on the number of words, but on the fervor of our souls". Let me offer a few descriptions of contemplative prayer:

From the Catechism: Contemplative prayer is...
"... the prayer of the child of God, of the forgiven sinner who agrees to welcome the love by which he is loved and who wants to respond to it by loving even more." (2712)
"... the simplest expression of the mystery of prayer." (2713)
"... silence." (2717)
Romano Guardini defines it as an attempt to "apprehend the nature of God, to grasp the meaning of the Kingdom of God, to gain insight into the condition of man and an understanding of one's own place in the pattern of things, to obtain a true picture of the world" (The Art of Praying, 110). Also from the Art of Praying:

When contemplative prayer is rightly practiced it sooner or later tends to become very simple... Step by step, however, the subject of contemplation will become both simpler and more compelling. Our thoughts will diminish in number but gain in depth and concentration. The words will come more sparingly, and ultimately the inward prayer is resolved in silence or even in something which goes beyond the duality of speech and silence (110). 

Alright, so that is contemplative prayer, but what is contemplative life? It is simply the living-out of the prayer. If you are woefully unsatisfied with that answer, I understand. This is like teaching someone to surf. I can explain the mechanics of surfing in less than a minute, I can even show you what to do in a couple of minutes. Now try to do it. Like surfing, contemplation is a profoundly simple concept but a very difficult practice. Again, what is contemplative living? In New Seeds of Contemplation the Trappist monk Thomas Merton says, "It is an awakening, enlightenment, and the amazing intuitive grasp by which love gains certitude of God's creative and dynamic intervention in our daily life".

There is a film (I use the term loosely) that everyone should be made to watch. It's called Surf's Up and it stars talking, surfing, animated penguins. Before you roll your eyes (wife of mine), remember that the Church commands that because God is the author of all truth we are obligated to recognize truth from wherever it comes. Anyway, there is a scene where the old master of the surfing penguins is asked how to determine the best surfer on the beach. He laughs and responds, "It's the one having the most fun." The contemplative life is not about being better or more or further than others. The best contemplative life is the one closest to God and therefore, in the purest and most theologically correct form of the word, it's the one having the most fun.