Some stories, by the injustice they expose, beg to be told. Think of how “The Killing Fields” brought to light the murderous regime in Cambodia. Or what “All the President’s Men” did for corruption in Washington.
As the father of two homeschooled boys, I have the great privilege of teaching them religion each evening. (My wife takes most of the other subjects during the day.) One boy is in the sixth-grade and the other is a first-grader, and I look forward to coming home from work and sitting, reading and (yes) memorizing with my boys.
My firstborn son was healed of a heart ailment as an infant at the Marian Shrine in Lourdes. Every year on February 11, which just passed, I am prompted to meditate on this fact. Stephen, now 11 years old, was born more than seven weeks premature on the feast day of St. Padre Pio (who was a Blessed at the time). He spent 10 days in the neonatal ICU, where they detected a heart murmur. Tests revealed a mild coarctation. If you are like my wife and I were at the time, the word is unfamiliar. Coarctation is a narrowing of the aorta, a condition that restricts blood flow and could lead to hypertension and stroke.
Theologians have been accused of debating the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin, but in the experience of the average layman, the Catholic Church has a genius for simplicity. By simplicity, I don’t mean a simple-minded or watered-down reality. Rather, the Church’s simplicity is expressed in a beauty and message that is timeless, attractive and accessible to both children and adults, the educated and the uninitiated.
With this book, Michael D. O’Brien has made a statement. Even apart from the plot and characters of this lengthy and intricate novel, there is a message that goes to the heart of our current communications culture. At 1,072 pages, it is implausibly, imprudently long. In a landscape of digital blinks, and voracious viral fame, O’Brien bids us to put down our devices, find a spot by the fireplace and listen to a tale well told. A father’s tale, no less, in a culture which prefers the terms parent or primary caregiver and may make a father an accessory to the family.
We live in a lightning-fast information world, with hand-held digital gadgets that bring us e-mails, headlines, phone calls, tweets, posts and a world of information through the internet. We say we are “connected” and the world is a “global village” yet so many of us feel alienated and alone. What is missing in our lives is not so much a sense of connection as an experience of communion. We share thoughts in 140 characters or less on Twitter, and join groups on Facebook, but how deep and personal is our interaction with others?
What do you do when someone is dying? Call 911, yell for a doctor, perform CPR – these are some natural responses. But I am not talking about someone suddenly found in a life or death situation. Rather, my question is about someone who has been ill for a while yet death is not imminent. Or an elderly person in a nursing home who has taken a turn for the worse. Or someone with a severe stroke who cannot talk or eat or move much at all. What do you do in these cases?Do you sign a DNR (do not resuscitate) order? Do you demand that every possible means of modern medicine be used to keep the person alive for as long as possible? Where do you go for medical and moral guidance? What is the line between euthanasia and simply letting someone die naturally?Given the ability of medications and technologies to keep people alive despite critical or chronic conditions, it is very likely that you will face these questions with your mom, dad or grandparents, and that one day you will be the patient facing these end-of-life decisions yourself. You may think– “No tubes! No machines! Spare the pain and expense!” But you may think differently when your dad is in that situation or when you are in the sick bed yourself. Now is the time to consider these issues and make plans. True, the death of a loved one – or your own death – is not an easy topic to consider, and plans can be put off until someone winds up in the hospital and doctors start asking questions about “aggressive treatment” or “comfort care” that must be answered on the spot. It’s better to have a plan than to be caught in the emotion of the moment.A helpful guide on how to prepare for the inevitable was recently released by the Catholic bishops of New York state, called “Now and at the Hour of Our Death: A Catholic Guide to End-of-Life Decision Making.” It is a wonderful resource that upholds the dignity of the human person, made in the image of God, and teaches that while death can be sad, it is the doorway to eternal life.The bishops outline the basic Catholic teaching that “ordinary” care is obligatory, while “extraordinary” procedures are optional. They give guidelines and examples on how to determine what treatments might fall into each category, while acknowledging that individual circumstances and emerging technology can change what is considered “ordinary” or “extraordinary.”The easy-to-read, 16-page booklet also helps you to raise the inevitable questions with your family, think about them in a balanced way that is in keeping with moral norms, and offers practical steps you can take today to prepare for the decisions you will need to make sooner or later.“Our Catholic faith offers both a long tradition of reflection and Church teaching to help guide us through these multifaceted issues,” the introduction states. “It is important not to let the struggle over such questions eclipse what should be transcendent and grace-filled moments in the dying process: attending to spiritual needs, healing broken relationships, and saying good-bye.”Death is not just decisions about treatments and technology. In fact, in the Catholic mind, it is mostly about preparing the soul to meet God while reconciling all our relationships on earth. It is truly a time when heaven and earth are bridged, as the dying person passes (God willing) from one place to the other. It should be a time of peace and acceptance, not of arguments over medical decisions.The bishops’ booklet is also invaluable for providing a simple “Health Care Proxy” form in the back that can be filled out and signed as a legally binding document in New York state (persons in other states may need to check if this is the case where they live). Catholic ethicists generally advise against signing a “living will” or other document in which exact end-of-life treatments are named. Treatments may change over time, and a procedure that seems “extraordinary” now may in a few years be easy and ordinary.Instead, the bishops strongly recommend that you appoint a health care proxy who is empowered by you to make medical decisions when you are unable to do so. This proxy should be a practicing Catholic, or someone very knowledgeable about Church and moral principles, and willing to act in your best interest according to these norms. In this case, doctors will be directed by the informed, real-time decisions of your proxy, rather than trying to interpret the words of a “living will” written years ago.You can find this helpful document on the New York State Catholic Conference website: www.nyscatholic.org.
Is it only my perception, or do parents today let their young ones run a little too wild in public? There’s the wandering toddler in the restaurant, who loses his cuteness at about the time he puts his saliva-coated finger on your plate. Or the kids without supervision in libraries or museums. I’m hardly in favor of the harness leashes that some parents hook to their toddlers — making them look like two-legged dogs — but there must be a middle ground.I’m not an expert on discipline, but with a 10-year-old and a 6-year-old who can be challenging at times, I do have a bit of experience in the matter.I recall, for example, years ago when my eldest was about 4 years old and the usual time-out routine wasn’t doing the trick. After some out-of-bounds behavior, my wife and I would send him to his room for the prescribed time, and he would emerge with a somewhat heartfelt “sorry” and proceed a short time later to another offense.He was testing boundaries and authority, and I decided a stiffer dose of discipline was needed. Even after he expressed sorrow for a serious offense, I began taking away privileges, such as watching videos or playing with his favorite Pooh Bear and Tigger figures. “One more time and there are no videos for the rest of the day and tomorrow,” I would announce.Well, one week my son ran up a debt of four whole days without videos. Halfway through the punishment period, feeling deeply the loss of his faithful TV friends, he came to me with a long face of true penitence and asked for one day to be taken off the list.I was struck, not just with the sincerity of his sorrow but with the nature of his request. He didn’t ask to watch a video right then — he seemed to have a sense that some degree of punishment was still just. He asked only for time to be taken from his personal “purgatory.”Yes, I said, I’ll reduce the punishment by a day if he would be extra good the rest of the afternoon and evening.This routine was difficult for me to maintain, given my easy-going nature and eagerness to see my son’s smile. But I took the harder road and risked seeing the tears and frustration in his face.Wondering if my thoughts about discipline were sound, I called an expert, psychologist Dr. Ray Guarendi, who writes the Family Matters column for the “National Catholic Register." His personal experience includes bringing up 10 adopted children with his wife.“You’ve tapped into a truth of modern parenting,” he said. “What has been called discipline is really a watered down version that is presented for popular consumption. Time out is not the whole story. Consistently bad behavior merits consistently strong discipline. Our children will test the limits, and we must be prepared to show them that we are serious when we say something is wrong.”“What we need to do as parents is take a much stronger approach to discipline,” Guarendi said.As we parents impose these discipline measures, we must remember that he who disciplines must be open to the discipline of the Father of all. As St. Paul says, “My sons, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord, nor lose heart when he reproves you. For whom the Lord loves, he disciplines; he scourges every son he receives” (Hebrews 12:6).These can sound like hard words in a culture that views bad behavior in secular psychological terms, and treats troublesome kids with various prescription drugs.Yet I think many parents would be more willing to impose discipline if they were given more positive models. You may spare the rod, but keep discipline consistent and significant. Your child will be the winner in years to come.
There are many ways to describe Catholic manhood – faithful, honest, virtuous – but let’s start with the most basic.
“We believe in one God…”With these words we begin the Nicene Creed, the faith we profess as Christians. Too often the words come off our lips quickly and with little thought as we stand during Sunday Mass. Yet each tenet of the creed should be a monumental, life-changing affirmation in our lives. Many religions say there is one God, but only Christians proclaim him as Three Persons — Father, Son and Holy Spirit. What has God done to merit our worship? He is “maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.”Perhaps the tenets of the creed would be more a part of our consciousness if we incorporated portions into our prayer life, as quick aspirations.What do I mean?Recently, when contemplating what seemed to be a hopeless situation in a friend’s life, I began to think how our Catholic faith should provide help. What part of our faith would be especially relevant when faced with tragedy? Immediately the words came to mind, “on the third day he rose again.”Now when negative thoughts or vexing situations enter my life, I picture Jesus coming from the tomb and say in my mind, “on the third day he rose again.” After all, what more hopeful and life-giving article of faith is there than the resurrection? And it is not something simply hidden in the mists of time; it is a reality for us today, just as Jesus is living and breathing in his Church. In addition, each believer is destined to rise after death, just as we “look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.”If these articles of faith do not give us hope, how fully do we really believe them?Let’s try a few of life’s situations and see how the creed can give comfort and hope.If I say: “I feel that nobody loves or cares for me.”The creed says: “For us men and our salvation He came down from heaven.”Jesus loves you so much that he left heaven to be one with humanity. He would have done this just for you alone.If I say: “I have been betrayed and refuse to trust.”The creed says: “We believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.”God has not left us without guidance. We have the sure rock of the Catholic Church, a community of believers and a body of teaching and teachers, to give us assurance in all the ultimate questions in life.If I say: “I have done wrong and feel unworthy of forgiveness.”The creed says: “We acknowledge one Baptism for the forgiveness of sins.”This tells us that it is God’s great desire to forgive even the worst sins, and it should lead us to the Sacrament of Confession, by which sins after Baptism are forgiven.If I say: “My life has been ruined by my upbringing. I will never recover.”The creed says: “He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.”Some parents are less than ideal, and some do harm to their offspring. But there is a Father who is always good, to whom we can look even in the darkest of times. Jesus loved and trusted his Father, and he has adopted us as children of the same God to live with him in heaven.If I say: “Life is not fair and evil seems to win.”The creed says, “He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.”God is not mocked, fooled or sleeping. He sees all and will judge everyone. Good will be rewarded with eternal life and beatitude. Evil will be cast into darkness. Justice will prevail in our lives and in the world as a whole. Our sights should be set on being among the righteous of God.If we pray the creed in this way, we will be able to grasp better its tenets and seek to live them out from day to day.
I had promised myself never to use that phrase, but everyone seems to be saying it these days. A national newsweekly last year featured “Man Up!” on its cover while concluding that men will have to “rethink masculinity” in order to survive in the new economy that stresses Facebook-type sharing and soft skills over brawn.As we approach Father’s Day, we may wish to reflect what exactly there is for men to celebrate. After all, the incessant recession has hit men the hardest — three-quarters of job loss has been among lower-income males who rely on physical strength to earn their wage. America just doesn’t build all that much anymore, apparently. Even the housing boom — which had given contractors much of their work over the past 15 years — has gone bust.But “redefine masculinity?” I suspect that men who try to do this will be disappointed — or encouraged, perhaps — that it cannot be done. Oh yes, we can rethink how our masculinity is to be expressed, but we should never seek to have it suppressed. Masculinity is a precious jewel of humanity, something that the world, frankly, would be much poorer without. It can definitely have its excesses — brash displays that come about often when men are unsure of their masculinity or feel it is under attack. Yet when expressed as male virtue — strength, character, protector, provider, and righteous warrior — masculinity has been the great energy of history. Courage, self-sacrifice, justice and truth are all expressions of masculine virtue, as are invention, innovation and idealism. If you think you can “redefine masculinity,” just look at your local park, where the boys exhibit a warrior ethic and the girls tend to associate to communicate. The key is to harness and guide the wonderful masculine energy of boys so that they grow into men of strength and virtue — men of strong and enduring virtue. But never seek to suppress that masculine urge to rise and conquer, to build and destroy. I have two boys, ages 10 and 6. They are both forces of nature. My mission as a father is to lead them into the truth about themselves and the world — starting with God and continuing on to mankind and all creation. My greatest mission — and maybe the most difficult in our somewhat feminized culture — is to teach them authentic love. That love is not merely an emotion, but love is mostly an act of the will. And my two boys certainly have very strong wills, so I know that they have the capacity for great love — enough to set the world aflame for the Gospel and change the course of history for the better. Rather than “redefine masculinity,” we fathers would do well to “refine masculinity” as fire is refined to bring greater value and beauty to gold. The gold of my sons is their souls.
You don’t have to be young to claim membership in the JPII Generation. I was 21 when he was elected to the papacy in 1978, yet he had a profound impact on the direction of my life, from coming back to the Catholic Church to entering the seminary and even to taking my first cross-country trip to see him in Denver in 1993.
By now you may have seen or heard about the YouTube viral video of the young teen singing her repetitive pop tune “Friday,” which has logged some 100 million internet hits in a few short weeks, and still counting. When I first saw the video, I thought it was a clever spoof on how inane pop music has become, with mind-numbing rap tempos and listless lyrics saying that today is Friday and tomorrow is Saturday and then comes Sunday – the sort of learning curve my youngest son followed in preschool. But apparently the song is not a spoof and kids are taking it seriously.