Wow

If Steven Colbert is proud to teach Sunday School, so am I. I know the video is a bit old (2008 I believe) but the timeless truths are still just as timeless. I don't recall learning anywhere that Lucifer disobeyed God because he was told he had to obey man. Does anyone know where that reference/theory may have come from?

http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/149094/february-11-2008/philip-zimbardo

The amazing Stephen Hawking claims not to be afraid of the dark, unlike me.

For those of you who missed it, the extremely intelligent British physicist  Stephen Hawking pointed out last week that “A belief that Heaven or an afterlife awaits us is a ‘fairy story’ for people afraid of death.” He also said, “I regard the human brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark” What I find particularly odd is how many people are giving credence to Dr. Hawking’s silly opinions. Let’s do a quick fact check.

1. Is Stephen Hawking a Catholic? No

2. Is Stephen Hawking a Christian? No

3. Is Stephen Hawking a theologian? No

4. Is Stephen Hawking a Bible scholar? No

5. Is Stephen an expert in any way, shape, or form in the worlds largest religion? No

6. Is Stephen Hawking a physicist? Yes

7. Does his area of expertise lay in a completely different field from religion? Yes, as long as heaven isn’t supposed to be on the moon or in a black hole.

You can see my problem. If I suddenly went out into the streets of Wenatchee and called a press conference to show that I had discovered a new area of theoretical physics showing how everything we have thought we have know about mathematics for the last 3000 years has actually been a big lie for people who were afraid that the earth was round and they would fall off, I would be laughed at. No one would come; no one would care. I would just be a big idiot.  Everyone would know that I know absolutely nothing about physics or string theory, and they would tell me to just stick the whole “God thing” and leave science up to the scientists.  Yet no one seems to question the amazing Stephen Hawking.  After all, the man did redefine how we look at black holes. Obviously he must know what he is talking about with end of the world matters and the like. I draw your attention once again to my 7 point check list. Unless heaven is inside a black hole or on a different planet (or moon) then why in the world would we think Stephen Hawking is any more credible when it comes to matters of faith than I am when it comes to matters of math and physics. If this is the case, why do people allow him to affect their faith?  He is not an emerging philosopher of the twenty first century, he is just a physicist. A very good physicist, but just a physicist nonetheless.  I think the answer lies in his fame.  For some reason we really want to believe famous people. Not only do we want to believe what they say, I think we actually want to believe IN them. We want them to represent all that is good and true and wholesome in this world.  Even when they are bad, we still want to hold them up as role models in some way, shape, or form. Just have a look at the magazine rack near the checkout line next time you hit the supermarket.  Everything is about celebrities and the intimate details of their lives (or sex and weight loss).  We are surrounded by the media telling us what is important and who we should put our faith, and this week it was Stephen Hawking, an atheist physicist who can find no mathematical or scientific evidence for the existence of heaven. Why is this even news? Did I miss something where someone else claimed to have found heaven in a black hole and Stephen Hawking needed to smack them around? When has our faith ever been based on the opinions of physicists? Why does anyone care whether or not Steve believes in heaven? You should, because you need to pray for him.

Why we retreat

In our modern world when we hear the word “retreat” we usually think of defeat. When two armies meet on the field of battle, the won that retreats is generally looked at as the loser. What we often forget, however, is that no single battle decides an entire war.  The same can be said for our spiritual battle.  At times the best thing we can do when we are tired and worn out from fighting the good fight is to pull back and regroup, retreat.  As a man I think there is something especially challenging about this idea of a retreat.  I somehow see it as a direct affront to my macho self-image. I prefer the idea that I am unstoppable, unbeatable, and generally all around awesome.  I don’t need to retreat because nothing could ever stand against me.  When reality sinks in (as it usually does) I realize that nothing could be farther from the truth. I do need help. I need to retreat. I need to pull back and make sure that I haven’t allowed my ego to balloon up and obscure my relationship with God.  I recently had just such an experience, and it wasn’t even planned. I took some time off to attend a wedding in St. Louis and while I was there a number of different things happened in my life. I had the opportunity to visit several amazing churches, one of which was the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis. While I was there, I was reminded of several things that somehow, somewhere along the line I had forgotten; things that made me extremely proud to be Catholic. One of which was how seriously Catholics take liturgy and worship. I love my protestant brothers and sisters, but they have really missed the boat on this one. While I have seen some of their churches that I would call pretty, I have yet to see one that is jaw dropping, eye bulgingly beautiful. The kind of place where as soon as you walk in the door you just want to fall to your knees because you know you are in the presence of God. You know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this place is sacred. The statues, the mosaics, the altar, the domed ceiling, everything screams worship, and it gave me some food for thought.  Jesus Christ wasn’t any more present in a fancy basilica than He is here in St. Joseph’s.  The Eucharist is the Eucharist, no matter where we go or what we are doing. It doesn’t matter if the sermon is good or bad, the music is chant or contemporary, and the language is English, Spanish, or Latin. Jesus is still Jesus, and that is what is important. I was glad for the opportunity to step back and experience a side of Catholicism that I rarely see anymore. The more formal side that sends shivers up my spine. It made me think of how we get to participate in something that has been going on for thousands of years.  The mosaics of the Saints of old preaching the Gospel and frequently laying down their lives for their convictions left me feeling very inadequate.  It made me stop and really think about whether or not I am really giving my all for the kingdom of God.  When I got back to Wenatchee I felt extremely refreshed and ready to enter into the battle once again. A retreat isn’t a sign of defeat, only a sign that we are all weak and in need of God’s mercy and strength.

The Church on the offensive

Mark Shea has a great piece over at the National Catholic Register on the infallibility of the pope and on the Sacred Tradition of the Church. If you have time to read it I highly recommend it.

A time to retreat

In our modern world when we hear the word “retreat” we usually think of defeat. When two armies meet on the field of battle, the won that retreats is generally looked at as the loser. What we often forget, however, is that no single battle decides an entire war.  The same can be said for our spiritual battle.  At times the best thing we can do when we are tired and worn out from fighting the good fight is to pull back and regroup, retreat.  As a man I think there is something especially challenging about this idea of a retreat.  I somehow see it as a direct affront to my macho self-image. I prefer the idea that I am unstoppable, unbeatable, and generally all around awesome.  I don’t need to retreat because nothing could ever stand against me.  When reality sinks in (as it usually does) I realize that nothing could be farther from the truth. I do need help. I need to retreat. I need to pull back and make sure that I haven’t allowed my ego to balloon up and obscure my relationship with God.  I recently had just such an experience, and it wasn’t even planned. I took some time off to attend a wedding in St. Louis and while I was there a number of different things happened in my life. I had the opportunity to visit several amazing churches, one of which was the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis.  While I was there, I was reminded of several things that somehow, somewhere along the line I had forgotten; things that made me extremely proud to be Catholic. One of which was how seriously Catholics take liturgy and worship. I love my protestant brothers and sisters, but they have really missed the boat on this one. While I have seen some of their churches that I would call pretty, I have yet to see one that is jaw dropping, eye bulgingly beautiful. The kind of place where as soon as you walk in the door you just want to fall to your knees because you know you are in the presence of God. You know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this place is sacred. The statues, the mosaics, the altar, the domed ceiling, everything screams worship, and it gave me some food for thought.  Jesus Christ wasn’t any more present in a fancy basilica than He is here in St. Joseph’s.  The Eucharist is the Eucharist, no matter where we go or what we are doing. It doesn’t matter if the sermon is good or bad, the music is chant or contemporary, and the language is English, Spanish, or Latin. Jesus is still Jesus, and that is what is important. I was glad for the opportunity to step back and experience a side of Catholicism that I rarely see anymore. The more formal side that sends shivers up my spine. It made me think of how we get to participate in something that has been going on for thousands of years.  The mosaics of the Saints of old preaching the Gospel and frequently laying down their lives for their convictions left me feeling very inadequate.  It made me stop and really think about whether or not I am really giving my all for the kingdom of God.  When I got back to Wenatchee I felt extremely refreshed and ready to enter into the battle once again. A retreat isn’t a sign of defeat, only a sign that we are all weak and in need of God’s mercy and strength.

When Jesus said love your enemies, I think He meant rejoice in their death.

I doubt very much that there is anyone in the United States who has not by this time heard that Osama Bin Laden is dead.  My brother called me to share the news the night it happened because he knows I don’t have TV and he thought I might want to see what was going on in the world. He was, of course, quite correct. What I saw was more or less what I expected to see, but not always where I expected to see it.  I don’t know how many people posted status updates on facebook saying things like, “rot in Hell you…” or “ding dong Osama’s gone.”  I find it rather interesting that so many people are taking such joy in the death of another human being.   When we look at what it truly means to be Catholic, one of the first things that has always stood out to me is God’s mercy and forgiveness.   Now I don’t say this to advocate an attitude of “sin as much as you want because God will forgive you,” but rather because I see so many people saying that Osama is not worthy of God’s forgiveness.  I read one blog that compared Osama to the unrepentant thief on the cross next to Christ. The author commented about how the thief was not worthy of God’s mercy and would no doubt be in Hell. The same, he said, applies to Osama. I understand where the author and many other Americans are coming from on this. Osama Bin Laden and his terrorist organizations killed thousands of people, many of them Americans and we finally feel like we have gotten our revenge. Or have we?  Is his death really going to make a difference in our hearts?  One of the things I have discovered about hatred is that it is not so easily satisfied. Once the object of our hatred and anger is gone, we simply find another. It eats at our soul and can destroy our lives.  Is Good Friday already so far gone from our minds and our hearts that we have forgotten how Jesus Christ suffered and died for ALL sinners, not just those of us living our comfortable suburban lives?  The Vatican spoke out and said “Faced with the death of a man, a Christian never rejoices, but reflects on the serious responsibility of each and every one of us before God and before man, and hopes and commits himself so that no event is an opportunity for further growth of hatred, but for peace.”  Yet the Vatican spokesman was criticized by some for not rejoicing in the death of a fellow human being. To me, this is the great tragedy. We must not let hatred for the actions of a man, no matter how evil they may be, stop us from praying for his conversion. I find it ironic that news of this death would arrive on our shores on Divine Mercy Sunday, yet so many would deny that mercy to one who needs it most. The death of any man who has declared himself an enemy of God and His Church is not a cause to rejoice. Rather it is a cause for weeping over a potentially lost soul. We should increase or prayers for Osama Bin Laden’s soul and pray that we might someday call him brother in Heaven. I know that I stand with the minority on this one, but I don’t want to see anyone suffer Hell. To say that he deserves Hell would be true. To say that we all deserve Hell would be a better way to put it. We all need Christ, that is why He came. Instead of rejoicing in his death, maybe we should have a Mass said for Osama bi Laden's soul instead.

“Rejoice not when your enemy falls, and when he stumbles, let not your heart exult”

Prov 24: 18