A homily on the Vow of Nonviolence

A Homily on the Vow of Nonviolence

Well, I haven't posted a homily publicly for some time. I used to post them on this blog, and the other day I went back to look at some of them -- I remembered toiling over every one.

THIS one is different. I have never spoken so directly about peace and nonviolence before. No one walked out. In fact, the church was very, very quiet, and appreciative silence I think. One person (who told me he was a gun owner) afterwards said he appreciated what I was trying to say, but asked why I hadn't spoken also about abortion as violence, or talked about Obama's reliance on the military. Actually, I agreed with him in both instances, but told him I could only say so much, and kept it focused.

When I give a homily, I don't really read it; the words never come out as what I have on the paper, though they are usually close. For instance, I SANG those words of the Magnificat; I pointed to the manger scene and crucifix, and to those people whose names I mentioned in the homily. I added the name of another person I saw who had taken the vow. And the spoken word is different from the printed word.

Anyway; here it is:                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Homily1.1.17          

                                                                                                                                       World Day of Peace    

Today is the feast day of Mary, Mother of God. It has always been a Holy Day in the Church, but this day has had other names through the years: the celebration of the Octave of Christmas, the Feast of the Circumcision (what it was called when I was a child) and of course today, the feast of Mary, Mother of God. I do have a special place in my heart for Mary; in fact I asked Sara if she would have the choir sing a contemporary version of the Magnificat, Mary’s song: “My soul cries out with a joyful shout that the God of my heart is great.” It’s the song Mary sang about the coming of Jesus into the world. In today’s gospel Mary and Joseph bring their baby to be circumcised and given the name of Jesus, the one we know also as the Christ, a title meaning Messiah, the anointed one. And of course, especially fitting for today, we know this Jesus as the Prince of Peace.

But there is another name for this day, and it was established in 1968 by Pope Paul VI. Today is the Catholic feast day known as the World Day of Peace. Today in your bulletin is a special insert that parishioner Linda Fredericks put together for us here at OLL. I have another one that is available from the US Catholic Bishops & distributed by Catholic Relief Services. This year is the 50th celebration of this feast day, and every year the Pope has issued a special message to the whole Church about peace. I have all 50 of them listed here in my folder.

Why is it that the world so easily fails to hear this message of peace? Or perhaps the question is, why is the world just unable to take it seriously enough?

I find it especially disturbing – and dangerous – at this time in our world, when we are treated to news about tweets and actions by our president-elect that raise concerns about 1) Israel and heightened tensions and accusations; about war and wider conflict within the Muslim world; and 3) about nuclear weapons, escalations in our nuclear capabilities, and even their possible use.

We in the US Catholic Church are not immune to this inability to hear the message of the wider Church. I believe that OLL is better informed than most parishes, but how many US Catholics have ever read these annual messages from our popes about peace? How many knew that our popes made these annual statements or even that our Church had established this special feast day, this World Day of Peace?

I want to apologize right now if my words today have or will offend any of you. You have been so kind and so good to me, and I love being here at OLL with you. What I share today is my own perspective, not the doctrine of the Church. But I also believe that what I share is the teaching of Jesus.

I am a pacifist. I am not a “passive-ist,” meaning someone who is passive. I am more of an activist pacifist. I was a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War – but I knew I was a pacifist well before then, even though both my parents served in World War II. I came to this perspective because I read the stories of Jesus in our scriptures, and heard him calling me to follow him. That’s what I want to do with my life, and I imagine you would like to follow him too. This Jesus in the manger scene is also THIS Jesus on the cross. Jesus came to teach us how to love, and he did this through his life and his own actions. He was a man of peace and nonviolence, always. In fact, I defy any of you to seriously imagine this Jesus carrying a rifle or participating in any war. This was a man who allowed himself to be crucified, even though he could have aroused his followers to fight for him. He lived peace. Yes, Jesus teaches about dissention and strife around him, but he’s talking about the dissention that his message causes among those who refuse to take his life and teachings to heart!

What Pope Francis writes about on this day, in his peace message to the world is Nonviolence: A Style of Politics for Peace. It is a bold statement, fitting for this 50th anniversary. It does not shy away from being controversial, and so I will follow in his footsteps this morning.

Two weeks from now, at the Saturday evening Mass at St. Joseph’s parish on Capitol Hill, on the weekend we also celebrate and remember the life and words of fellow Christian Martin Luther King Jr, man of nonviolence, members of Pax Christi, the International Catholic Peace Fellowship, along with their friends, family, and others, will profess a Vow of Nonviolence. The vow will be received by Bishop Eusebio Elizondo at the Mass. Others around the Pacific Northwest will join them – Pax Christi members in public at St. Leo’s in Tacoma, others from Bellingham and Port Angeles. Former Jesuit volunteers from the Micah community. There are deacons and priests too – your former deacon Roy Harrington has taken this vow annually in public, along with OLL parishioners Mary Sontgerath, Barbara McGrath, Linda Fredericks. Bryon Johns made this commitment publicly with members of his family, and my wife and son joined with me. Many others take it privately, such as Lorraine Hartman of your Peace and Justice committee, and my deacon friend Gene Vanderzanden. This is a personal vow, not to be confused with a religious vow like those of poverty, chastity, and obedience. It is a serious commitment, but it is a commitment to strive for a nonviolent life, not to be perfect.

So, I’d like to share the wording of this vow with you right now. Listen to the words; see if would find yourself able to try to live these words.

RECOGNIZING THE VIOLENCE IN MY OWN HEART, yet trusting in the goodness and mercy of God, I vow for one year to practice the nonviolence of Jesus who taught us in the Sermon on the Mount:
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons and daughters of God…You have learned how it was said, ‘You must love your neighbor and hate your enemy’; but I say to you, Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you. In this way, you will be daughters and sons of your Creator in heaven.”
Before God the Creator and the Sanctifying Spirit, I vow to carry out in my life the love and example of Jesus:
*by striving for peace within myself and seeking to be a peacemaker in my daily life;
*by accepting suffering rather than inflicting it;
*by refusing to retaliate in the face of provocation and violence;
*by persevering in nonviolence of tongue and heart;
*by living conscientiously and simply so that I do not deprive others of the means to live;
*by actively resisting evil and working nonviolently to abolish war and the causes of war from my own heart and from the face of the earth.
God, I trust in Your sustaining love and believe that just as You gave me the grace and desire to offer this, so You will also bestow abundant grace to fulfill it.

I truly believe that every Christian – every person Christian or not -- who wants to follow the life and example of Jesus, to live a life of peace, should be drawn to these words. Why not make peacemaking more intentional? Of course it is not easy. There will be struggle. There have always been martyrs. But why not begin to live in the world in the way we want the world to actually be?

God Bless you this New Year’s Day, and send you PEACE.

Deacon Denny Duffell
Our Lady of the Lake Parish

On Discipleship

On Discipleship

Seeing the blog this evening of a cyber-friend, Perspective, has finally pushed me over the edge!  I can't be sure how often I'll post, but I hope it will be even more frequently than I did a few years ago.  I think I'll have more time.  

This past Sunday's scriptures were from the story of Isaiah's call (where, after being cleansed, he responds to God with a hearty "Here I am; take me!") and of Jesus calling Simon, James, & John after the miraculous catch of fish (after which they left their boats and followed him).  On the previous weekend I had happened to talk with several of our high school youth about the topic of Discipleship (fortuitous scheduling), and rather than tell them what it should mean for them, I just shared with them what it has meant to me in my life.  It turned into what was, for me, a very significant experience.  

I realized not long afterwards that I should try to do something similar with the weekend's homily.  The following effort is what I came up with.  I'm not sure it's a great homily, but it does say a lot about me, why I've lived my life the way I have.  As always, one always has to pick and choose what to say, within the time limits of a homily... and whatever is written is neither the same as what was spoken nor what was heard. 

February 7th, 2016; Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Isaiah 6:1-2a, 3-8 and Luke 5:1-11

I’ve had the pleasure over the last several weeks to spend time with our high schoolers who are preparing to be Confirmed this coming April.  I’ve been to three of the sessions so far, mostly just in a quiet, supportive role, but last Sunday I had the privilege of sharing a few words with them about discipleship, which is what one prepares for in seeking Confirmation.  And rather than tell them all about what I think they should be and do to be a disciple, I just shared about what it means to me.

Well, today’s readings are also all about following God’s call, from the mystical imagery around God’s call to Isaiah and his enthusiastic “Here I am; send me!” to Jesus’ miraculous encounter with fishermen Simon Peter, James, and John, after which they bring their boats to the shore, leave everything, and follow Jesus.  So given the scriptures today, I thought that I would share with you all, what vocation, discipleship -- what that means to me.  Until last June, I worked full-time within the Church for 46 years, 32 of them here at St. Bridget, and as an ordained deacon here for 26, so I … have one or two things to say..

The first thing I want to make clear, though, is that I do not hold myself up or consider myself a model for discipleship.  At best I could only be considered a very imperfect model.  In fact, I am almost like an anti-model, a guy who has had to keep trying things until he got it right.

When I was young, I don’t remember much even thinking about the word “disciple” -- it wasn’t a word one used much, even in church.  But I did want to be the best person I could be!  My parents taught me that; my Catholic schools taught me that.  And that meant loving God with all my heart and mind and soul and strength!  And I prayed that God would help me do that.  And it also meant loving my neighbor as myself, which meant for me, living out the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. 

In the 1950s and early 60s, doing those things meant being a priest or a nun -- at least, that was how it came across.  Now I thought about being a priest at many times during high school, and actually would have entered the Jesuit seminary after high school except for my dad -- who insisted that I had to go to a co-ed University -- away from home -- for at least two years.  (pause) That took care of that.  I still thought about seriously about becoming a priest on a couple of times after that, but it was never the same.

But, think about that for a minute.  Sometimes when we want to do something, especially some work, that we think God wants us to do, the road is blocked, or the answer is seems to be NO.  Does that mean we can say, “OK God, looks like we’re good for now, let me know for sure the next time you want me, OK?”  No.  What it probably does mean is “keep listening.”  It doesn’t mean the No will turn to Yes… but it might turn into something else.

Now, I’m sure that in high school many of you had somebody in your class who was really good in math and science, particularly math.  You knew that guy, right?  Well, I WAS that guy in my school.  So I was marked -- I had a talent.  In fact, I just had my 50^th high school reunion back in St. Louis, in October -- you don’t know how many people were completely dumbfounded that I was a Catholic deacon and had worked for the church ever since college.  But what happened to me then was that I still was that person who wanted to love God and do God’s work, and I was still listening.  But by the time I was leaving college, I had few other answers except to continue on into grad school, probably following my talents in math.  I had a romantic interest, but no plans.  So instead, God decided to see if I really was listening…and one afternoon in my senior year had me encounter a Jesuit by the name of Fr. Jack Morris, showing slides in the student about becoming a Jesuit Volunteer and going to Alaska were it was 30 below, and teaching school for room and board and $5 a month.  And you know… I just knew that this was the path God was holding out to me.  And I never looked back; never used those math talents professionally -- though they’re good for helping kids with homework.

Now I wish things were so simple that we could make one huge major life decision and then the rest of your life would simply unfold like it’s supposed too.  Maybe it is that way for some people, but it’s never been that way for me.  Everything I chose to do was good work, but I couldn’t find where I was being called.  God’s answer was always, “Just trust, take another step.”  Not a lot of explanation!  So after teaching high school in Alaska I went on to a reservation in eastern Montana, teaching in a poor school in an isolated area:  St. Paul’s Mission in Hays.  After that I was invited to come to Portland to help run the Volunteer Corps itself.  I eventually came here to Seattle and began working at ImmaculateConception parish in the central area, working with their food bank, emergency needs, doing a little community organizing.  My wife Joan is part of this story too, but I won’t say much more about that, except to say that we were Jesuit Volunteers together, and have shared so many values together now for over 40 years. 

Part of those values involved where we lived; after a couple of years on our own, we moved into the Catholic Worker community, and as our common work the community ran the Family Kitchen at St. James Cathedral, a free meal for women, families, and the elderly, which lasted for over 30 years until it was finally turned over to the Cathedral.  We also offered short-term emergency housing in our home -- and believe me, when you have the poor under your roof with you, you understand better what it’s like to be poor.  As Catholic Workers we also shared a strong resistance to war, and were very much a part of the protests of that era against the Trident submarines based in Bangor.

But it all finally unraveled when we realized we could no longer live within the community because we had three children and it was just getting too hectic with all these activities.  Without the community, it would cost us substantially more to live.  I could no longer afford to work at an inner city parish for poverty wages.  And I was listening, asking God, what’s the next step?  I looked at a variety of jobs, even asked friends for suggestions… and one of them was Nove Meyers, who was leaving the job of religious education director here at St. Bridget.  I had never studied or trained for religious education, but I did know the pastor here…Fr. Muehe.  And when we met to discuss the job, he only said “Den, I’m not worried about you doing that job, but I have another job I think you can do at the same time…” 

And friends, you know what that job was.  It was something I had never thought about, never considered even as a possibility.  I didn’t know the job was open, and I had never been trained for it.  But that job was to be the Catholic chaplain at Children’s Hospital.  It was something I was completely unprepared for… and something that took me some time to get used to… but I knew it was perfect for me from the very first day.  It only took me 35 years to figure it out!

Now, there is a closing to this homily, but I can’t write it yet.  You see, I’m not done.  I’m just getting started trying to figure out what it means to be a disciple when you’re partly retired.  I’m not so sure I’m doing a good job.  But I’m listening.  I’m listening every day.

I’d like to close with my favorite prayer.  For years, this was on my bulletin board in my office, and it’s by Thomas Merton.  It’s helped me reach much peace and trust over the years.

My Lord God,

I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will 

does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.

And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Thomas Merton

IT'S TIME

IT'S TIME to pick up my blog again.  With my coming retirement from the parish staff at St. Bridget, I will be starting a new life in many ways.  What better way to mark this than resuming my blog -- something that could hold a lot of these new things together.

"Brief Notes Dot Com" was originally an on-line version of a column that I had written for the parish bulletin for about 15-16 years.  After a while, a primary use for it was to post my homilies.  It eventually developed its own personality, and a bit quirky one at that.  But of course my soul has its quirks; fortunately, I've learned to live with most of them fairly well.

So, this week the countdown clock ticks down to two months!  I'm a bit overwhelmed -- I sometimes can't get myself focused enough to do what I must, to finish well.  Fortunately, I've been thinking about this for a long time.

 One clear desire I have is to become "less busy" -- so I will have time to exercise, pray, and practice.  Which also means going to bed at a reasonable hour.  I want to focus on these fundamentals with my summer!  I will still put in some summer hours with the hospital (fewer this summer than I ultimately anticipate, as my weekly workload), and some time with the two parishes on weekends.

In the fall, I expect to focus on various peace/nonviolence activities, along with JVEnCorps.  More on those another time.  AND OF COURSE... By the end of the summer, I should also be well on the way to a lifestyle where I also have more time with my grandchildren -- and their parents.

A Few Words on Christian Suffering

All of last week I was focused on suffering.  I might have been in that place anyway, because of a death in our parish of a young woman, after a long struggle with cancer.  But what caused me to think about it repeatedly was the second reading from this past Sunday's scriptures, which mentioned suffering, even though it seemed to be an afterthought within the reading.  Somehow it stayed with me all week, and this homily was what resulted.

I couldn't find any place to bring it in -- so I didn't -- but one thing I thought about was the suicide rate of retuning veterans.  What a great sadness!  These (mostly) young men, having given prime time in their lives, for us, wind up taking their own lives.  I also ran across a really nice editorial about Joe Biden, who spoke very frankly about that situation.  You can read the editorial by following this link:  http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/opinion/2018335597_gerson02.html

Here is my homily.  If you're not from St. Bridget, you might find it hard to understand the meaning/power of that last section....

Trinity Sunday, cycle B, 6/3/12

Good morning. It’s good to be here with you this morning.

This is the feast of Trinity Sunday, which always takes place on the first Sunday of Pentecost, and our readings today contain various references to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s a feast day that almost begs for some kind of theological homily. But something from our second Reading today caught my attention -- all week, in fact -- and I’d like to share some thoughts with you about it. In this short massage Paul refers to God, the Spirit, and Jesus, all three, that’s one of the reasons it is chosen for today’s feast; and he writes: “The Spirit … bears witness … that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ.” But then the passage adds something else. It’s so briefly stated in our passage today that one might almost think that Paul was just slipping it in but didn’t want us to notice. Paul writes: “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if only we suffer with him, so that we may also be glorified with him.” In other words, suffering with Christ is linked to being children of God and joint heirs with Christ. Again, Paul seems to slip this in, but that’s only because our passage omits this next sentence: “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing to the glory about to be revealed to us.” So you see – it really is meant to be about suffering…

... Suffering with Christ! Suffering usually brings to mind physical pain, but suffering may also include isolation, abandonment, impoverishment, grief, depression. It’s counterintuitive, isn’t it, to think that suffering is a way to God’s glory? It’s only natural to try to avoid suffering, and to try to keep the ones we love from suffering. But notice, the words were “suffering with,” and not just “suffering.” That can mean that in those times in our lives when we suffer, we can remember that Jesus suffered first, for us, and we can then seek to join ourselves and our sufferings to his. That’s easier said than done, but I remember well from my childhood, when I would fall or get hurt in some way, my mom would comfort me, and then she would gently urge me to “offer it up.” Did anyone else here receive that message growing up? Actually, what she said was “offer it for the poor souls in purgatory.” That really dates me! Even as a child, she was teaching me that my hurt could in some way be redemptive.

And it’s true. When we consciously join our sufferings to His, they become redemptive with His as well. We can even begin to understand the mystery of the cross, and it will help us grow deeper in love. That is one way to suffer with Christ – to offer our sufferings to God, with His.

But there’s another meaning too, of “suffering with Christ,” and I thank God that there is. I say that because, you see …. I can’t say that I suffer, really. Hey, if you ask me, “How are you doing today,” A lot of times, my answer will be “Better than I deserve!” And gee, I mean that! It’s not that I feel I deserve to suffer, but there are so many innocent people in this world who do suffer, so how come I don’t? Especially if “suffering with Christ” is the way to God’s glory…

But I’d like to ask you to remember something. Remember that great vision at the end of Matthew’s gospel, about all those facing judgment based on whether they fed the hungry or welcomed the stranger or sheltered the homeless or visited the sick or imprisoned? It was because when they encountered any of those, those suffering ones, they were encountering Jesus himself. “Suffering with Christ” means being in solidarity with those who suffer, because in them we encounter Jesus himself. Let me say that again. “Suffering with Christ” means being willing to live one’s life with the hungry, the homeless, the sick and dying, the immigrant, the prisoner, all those who suffer – for in them we encounter Jesus himself.

I could stop right there, I know, but because I’ve touched upon this topic of suffering and being with those who suffer, there are two things I should acknowledge – really, we all should acknowledge. The first is very fresh. In the last three months, St. Bridget has had two long-suffering people die, and it was very personal for so many of us because they were both mothers, with husbands and families, children in our schools, and I’m obviously talking about Monica Fetty, whose funeral was just Friday, and Ally Scalzo, who died in mid-March. They both suffered and fought for a long time. But they weren’t alone – there were so many people in our community who suffered and fought with them, and so many more who prayed for them and suffered with them in their own quiet ways. They were both examples of courage and faith, and they made us better people. We need to continue to live with the Spirit that they drew out of us.

The second thing we all need to know and acknowledge is this. There are other people in this parish who suffer. Some of them are in the pews next to us, and some may have stopped coming to church. There are people who have health issues and they struggle along mostly alone. There are people who have suffered abuse, -- verbal, physical, or even sexual abuse -- some as a child, some in a marriage -- some a long time ago and some more recently, probably some right now –– but because of the shame and stigma, they don’t want others to know. And there are other ways that people in our parish suffer, God knows. A primary question for us as a Christian parish will always be, “How are we growing as a community where we truly live in solidarity with one another, sharing our sufferings and our joys?” That’s a good thing for us to think about over the next months, as we experience a pastoral change here at St. Bridget.

God bless you all.

Deacon Denny Duffell
St. Bridget Parish

Love and Joy

It's been way too long since I posted on my blog!  Since last March 12th, I made a trip to Malawi, celebrated Holy Week and Easter, took another trip to Washington D.C., participated in a lively parish Auction...and Archbishop Sartain (Seattle's Archbishop) went very public against gay marriage, and was put in charge of helping the U.S. nuns reform...and we held our concluding retreat for the JustFaith program in the parish.  All of those are things I might have posted about.  Oh, and I gave our parish homily a few times (which I usually post). 

I have no good excuse.  It's just that I get behind sometimes, and now I happen to be "very far behind" about a lot of things.  Still, though, I want to post this homily, because I was very happy when I wrote it and gave it -- regardless of the fact that I only had an hour to write it.

I feel that God has been very kind and generous to me -- there's a lot of JOY in my life.  I think it shows, from this homily.  God must know that I need it! 

6th Sunday of Easter (B), 5/13/12

Today’s Gospel is one of my very favorite readings. It’s simply marvelous. It’s a continuation of the Last Supper discourse in John’s Gospel, which was proclaimed last Sunday and also at the daily Masses this past week. In fact, it follows immediately after last Sunday’s section about the vine and the branches.

There are so many possible themes from this short passage, and I would like to focus on just two of them. The first theme is very obvious – Love. Our 2nd reading and our gospel virtually sing in harmony about love. And this passage is so rich, that there are at least three ways that our gospel today talks about love:

1) One is from the first paragraph, as Jesus is telling his disciples (and us) that he loves them (and us). He says, “Remain in my love! If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love.” To use the word “commandment” here is not meant to create the image of a God giving edicts to the human race. Jesus’ teachings, his commandments, are not about judgment and damnation; if that is your focus, you’re looking at them backwards. His teachings ARE in fact all about showing us HOW to love, the WAYS to love, and the ways to BUILD love between people. And we need those teachings because love is much more than a feeling – love is also a choice, and a calling.

2) The second way that this passage speaks about love is … so very humbling. Jesus talks about just how great his love for us is. “No one has greater love than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” Here Jesus is making the cross very personal! And he’s also making his love for us very personal too. “You are my friends. You, who are doing what I have taught you and shown you about love – you are my friends, and I love you so much that I lay down my life, for you.

3) But the third way of looking at love is my favorite; in fact, I often suggest that couples use it for their weddings. Twice he reminds them to “Love one another,” and just in case, to explain what he meant, he says “Love one another as I love you.” Do you realize how strong that is? Up until now all throughout the Bible, the scriptural standard, God's command, is to love our neighbor as ourselves. But this new standard is far stronger! We’re to love one another as God loves us – and God loves us much more than we love ourselves! God loves us unconditionally! God loves us into being! When we begin to realize how much God loves us, at first it’s overwhelming, but it’s also freeing – it can free us to love one another better, and it gives us an example, a model for our love. But just in case we still don’t get it, just in case we still don’t know how much he loves us, he shows us, one last time.  Once Jesus leaves that upper room, he leaves to give his life for us.

So you can see why I like to use this passage as the gospel passage for weddings… husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, are called to love the way God loves, unconditionally.  We really are called to give our lives for each other, and for our family.

This short passage on love is so rich. But there’s also another theme that I have to call your attention to, and it is captured in these words: “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you, and your joy might be complete.” JOY! Jesus told us all this about love so that HIS JOY MIGHT BE IN US, so that OUR JOY MIGHT BE COMPLETE!

JOY – We don’t have the time to even begin to talk about joy, so I’d like to give just a definition. Merriam-Webster says joy is “an emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune, or by the prospect of possessing what one desires. It is delight, gaity, happiness, gladness or” – and believe it or not, it also says this—“warm fuzzies.”

Well, that’s the popular understanding of Joy, but Joy is more; and certainly Jesus meant something more. The Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality says this: "JOY exists in the very pattern of life constituted by trust in God, through Jesus."

It says more, which I’ll skip, but it ends this way: "Joy occupies a central place among all the Christian affections."

Joy is not jollity. Joy often surprises. Joy can co-exist with pain. Joy involves a felt sense of connectedness to what IS. Joy involves the union of heaven and earth, of spirit and flesh. Joy is what we feel in the presence of God. In fact, the only condition for Joy is the presence of God. Joy happens when God is present and people sense it, they know it, which means it can erupt in a depressed economy, in the middle of a war, or in an intensive care waiting room.

Without the proclamation of Joy, Christianity is incomprehensible, and we cease to be credible Christian witnesses if we ever lose it.

May God bless you, and may you be filled with God’s love and joy.

Deacon Denny Duffell
St. Bridget Parish

Find Joseph Kony

I've known about Joseph Kony for a long time, now -- several years.  He was active in Uganda for many years, and now he's moving between countries, hard to pin down.  He founded the "Lord's Resistance Army," a guerrilla group that initially enjoyed some success as it attempted to set up a theocracy, with him as the spokesperson.  His style is to abduct children and force them to commit awful crimes that destroy their conscience.  For some, killing their own parents.  For others, being sex slaves.  There aren't adjectives vile enough to describe him. 

The US sent 100 troops as advisors, in an international effort to capture him.  And now, there's apparently an independent effort call "invisible children," that is out to publicize this man, so that everyone will know who he is and what he is doing...so that he can be stopped, brought to justice.  I was just sent a video clip, about 30 minutes long, that describes the effort:    

Please watch this, even if you've already heard of him.  I think the effort by inviduals is something historic...as the clip suggests.

Ten Steps!

I'm still behind in my reading, but I ran across a REALLY interesting article by John Dear, SJ, in which he publishes "Ten Steps to a Nation of True Justice and Peace" by Loyola law professor Bill Quigley.  I like it because it "flat-out says it" without pulling any punches.  For instance, #4 starts out:


"Four:  Leave the rest of the world alone. Cut U.S. military spending by 75 percent and bring all troops outside the U.S. home now."

Now, I admit that I've been saying for a long time, to a lot of people, that the size of our military spending is absurd and obscene.  But to give an amount, and to add that opening touch, "Leave the rest of the world alone," is probably further than I would have gone... not because I don't believe it but because I didn't think of it.  It has panache!

He talks about "radically reinventing democracy, defending the earth, expanding public spaces, redoing the prison system, and providing full employment."  He says clearly that corporations are NOT persons, and that property rights, privilege, and money-making are just not as important as human rights.

Not bad for a short essay.