Pastor Jones' Koran Burning

I shared the open letter to Pastor Jones below early last September.  Given the recent murders in Afghanistan, I thought this was a timely moment to re-visit the lessons of this terribly predictable tragedy.

While I respect the free speech rights of the pastor, Terry Jones, the proposed Koran burning raises grave concerns for many Christians--including myself, a Catholic.  I would submit to Pastor Terry Jones of the Dove Outreach Center that actions of this nature move many down a slippery slope, making some of us guilty of religious intolerance ourselves.  While this pales in the magnitude of intolerance and hatred of radical Islam, it is unhelpful within the current environment.  It’s clear that this kind of action doesn’t change minds or hearts, but it does have a way of polarizing everyone.  It’s pouring gasoline on a fire when what’s needed is water.

Just like the proposed construction of the mosque / community center in the shadow of the open wound that is the 9-11 memorial, often the things we can do are far removed from the things we should do.  Instead of burning the Korans on September 11th, I encourage all Christians instead to pray for their brothers and sisters who suffer such terrible religious persecution within Muslim countries every day.  Let’s remember the Golden Rule, “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.”  This profound truth is reflected in both the Old and New Testaments.  If the Koran burning places one soldier or Christian in harm’s way or encourages the burning of the Holy Bible, Pastor Jones meaningless and vitriolic message has sadly reaped its true reward.

On Coming Home

On the way back yesterday from seeing a great movie with the family (True Grit), I noticed a young man wheeling a floral-patterned suitcase down the sidewalk.  (I presume he was heading towards I-5.)  He was downcast and obviously upset about something.  Suddenly, a young woman appeared a block away, running towards him with a look of quiet desperation.  Sadly, I couldn't watch to see how this particular drama played out, but I hope that they're homelife is doing better. 


It was a poignant snapshot of life, and it got me to thinking of our coming home to the Catholic Church at the Easter Mass of 2005.  With the exception of childhood, this is about the longest we've ever been at the same church, and there's no inclination to search or "church hop" around again either.  We've found our church home, and we're profoundly thankful to be done with the endless church searching of our past years.


Here's the link for a Thirst for Reverence, which appeared in Catholic Answers' magazine, This Rock.  I hope you find it interesting, and I look forward to answering any questions you may have concerning our spiritual journey.  I will add that I never was completely happy with how this article was edited.  Most of the positive elements associated with our evangelical upbringing were de-emphasized, while the negative elements received greater emphasis as a result.  Still, it conveys a clear picture of why we crossed the Tiber for the fullness of the Catholic Church.


I took the accompanying photo while on a recent trip to Friday Harbor, Washington State situated on San Juan Island.  The photo is of the Saint Francis Catholic Church.

It's All About Me?

We just returned from a whirlwind vacation taking us from Seattle to Anacortes and the San Juan Islands.  The beauty was incredible, but I wish there had been a little more time.  Still, the days were  a rewarding and energizing time for all of us.  One area we particularly enjoyed  exploring was Lime Kiln Point State Park on the southwest side of San Juan Island (directly across the Strait of Georgia from beautiful Victoria, BC).    

While standing at a viewpoint and just taking all the scenery in last Saturday afternoon, I happened to overhear the young man and woman's conversation beside us.  His remarks resonated with me, because they seemed so at odds with everything around us.  He was explaining to his companion how this was such a great place to really think about one's self and meditate.  (I guess the meditation qualities of the place must have been off that day, as the couple ended-up tailgating us aggressively back all the way to Friday Harbor in their aging compact bearing California plates.)  How can such a display of God's handiwork turn us inward in such a silly display of self-absorption?

So, this raises the question: Is it really all about me?  Is my self worth the most important thing, or is the Christian called to embrace the death of self, sacrificing himself for God and our fellow man?  I remember being a Protestant in a Catholic school where the well-meaning teacher was attempting to instill in us students a value of self.  A friend asked me later what I thought about the discussion.  I pointed out the fallacy of the teacher's reasoning with a simple question.  I asked my friend if that was the attitude Christ had when He went to the Cross?  Was self the most important thing to Him when He allowed himself to be taken and crucified?  Obviously, the answer is a resounding NO! .  If that had been Christ's focus, He would have removed himself from the situation, refusing to sacrifice himself for sinners.

If we are to follow the example and teachings of Christ, in verses such as Galations 2:20, then we must ignore the teachings of the day and deny ourselves for He who saved us.  It's through that daily denial and death of self that we become the people He created us to be.

Be Not Afraid

Sitting here waiting to leave for a dental appointment (in which there will be lots of drilling), I began reflecting upon fear, and I thought I'd share a few words about it as my last post for a little while. It's not that I'm particularly nervous about the dental appointment, but sometimes multiple things combine to give all of us a little bit of uneasiness concerning our lives.

Some years, or so, ago, I was making what's called a field visit for my state government employer. These are when we contact individuals regarding tax matters. Usually, it's pretty routine stuff, but this time I was in for a surprise. I pulled into a driveway out in the country and was welcomed by a very large and vocal dog. He made it clear that he wanted me to turn my state Prius around and head back up the driveway. I can't recall all the details, but there was some reason why I really needed to contact the residents or leave a note for them to contact me.

After no one appeared at the front door, I nervously cracked open the car door. About the same time, I offered a quick prayer asking that I'd return home without missing any important parts. The dog's barking seemed to ease slightly, then I stepped out of the car completely, kneeling down with my hand outstretched for him to sniff (hopefully not chew). The barking suddenly stopped and the animal bounded over, tail wagging and licked my hand, as I recall. He became my best buddy while I left a notice on the front door and did a few minutes of paperwork in the car before heading back to the office. (I learned later that a family member was also praying for me at about the same time.)

Now, I would never train a new employee that this was the best approach, but in this particular case it seemed the way to go; I was able to manage my personal fear through prayer--and a little determination. This reminds me of my children's book, Tristan's Travels, as one of its central themes is overcoming fear--especially with regards to children. When our faith is in Christ, fear can be managed or overcome. (Please see the article "Overcoming Fear" courtesy Catholicmom.)

I'm not usually a fan of modern Catholic music, as it's usually too "folksy" sounding for me (and too often offering shallow or questionable theology), but I have to admit a soft spot for the hymn "Be Not Afraid." This simple admonition is also repeated, in one way or another, more than sixty times throughout the Old and New Testaments--e.g. "Do not be afraid." (Luke 12:4) and "Don't be afraid." (Mark 5:36)--so it must be advice truly important to all of us.

I'm going to conclude with a prayer from St. John Gabriel Perboyre which was shared at a talk we attended yesterday evening by Fr. Ron Hoye, CM. The following prayer was penned shortly before this man's brutal execution (by strangulation) by the Chinese authorities. The crime? Sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It should be further remembered that this man was forced to build the cross on which he was to be strangled to death. This is a powerful example of overcoming the darkest terror, and it was accomplished through the grace of Christ.

O my Divine Saviour,
Transform me into Yourself.
May my hands be the hands of Jesus.
Grant that every faculty of my body
May serve only to glorify You.

Above all,
Transform my soul and all its powers
So that my memory, will and affection
May be the memory, will and affections
Of Jesus.

I pray You
To destroy in me
All that is not of You.
Grant that I may live
But in You, by You and for You,
So that I may truly say,
With St. Paul,
"I live - now not I -
But Christ lives in me.

...St. John Gabriel Perboyre, 1840

The Hidden Truth of Christ's Genealogy: Bringing Good out of Bad

Before we dive into today's blog post, I wanted to take a moment to thank my readers. I also need to mention that this will likely be my last post (or next to last) for a couple weeks due to another soggy spring break in Oregon. Upon my return, I'll probably have a lot to talk about!

If we take time to read Matthew 1, we see a remarkably detailed account of the lineage of Saint Joseph. While reading the genealogy of Christ may not be exciting on its surface, it highlights God's way of frequently using "bad" people to bring about a greater good. Not every person named in this genealogy (spanning 42 generations) lived the life of a saint.

King David himself behaved shamefully on many occasions. In the eleventh chapter of 2 Samuel, for instance, we read about his wicked manipulation which resulted in the dispatch of Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, to the front lines of battle where he was killed in order that David might more conveniently marry the widow. The fact that David sought and received forgiveness from God is clear when we read Acts 13:22, which describes David "as a man of my (God’s) own heart".

The point is simply that God used fallen and sinful people to play a gloriously mysterious part in His gift to a fallen world, His Son. Unknowingly, they became co-workers in a sense with regards to this miracle of miracles. If God can bring such a supreme good from people who behaved so poorly at times, think about the other kinds of good that God can bring from the troubles we encounter daily. No evil or wickedness can be contrived from which God can not bring forth the miracle of good.

Why Does God Allow Suffering?

The unfolding tragedy in Japan is surely prompting many to ask hard questions such as why does a good God permit the evil of suffering? While I can't do more than scratch the surface of such a deep question, we can certainly say what the answer is not. After every natural disaster resulting in tragic loss of life, some misguided people--e.g. Hillsboro Baptist Church--always insist that the earthquake, tsunami, etc. was a direct punishment from God. Sometimes, I think this serves as a personal coping mechanism, a way to make sense out of destructive chaos. In the case of the aforementioned church, though, I suspect that the motivation is darker in nature.

It's a misleading and dangerous line of reasoning to pursue, however. Since we read in James 1:13 that God is not tempted by evil, nor does He tempt us, it would be impossible for Him to be the source of such suffering. This is simply an example of what the CCC calls "physical evil" as opposed to "moral evil". The world is a complicated machine in which God does not constantly insert His hand when something is about to break and cause harm. He permits nature to run its course. To do otherwise, would be heaven, and we're not there yet (except in Mass, as Scott Hahn might say).

Here's a small part of what the Catholic Encyclopedia offers on the three different dimensions of evil. (I'm not sure I've ever actually heard of "metaphysical evil" before. It's also not mentioned once in the entire Catechism of the Catholic Church.)

With regard to the nature of evil, it should be observed that evil is of three kinds — physical, moral, and metaphysical. Physical evil includes all that causes harm to man, whether by bodily injury, by thwarting his natural desires, or by preventing the full development of his powers, either in the order of nature directly, or through the various social conditions under which mankind naturally exists. Physical evils directly due to nature are sickness, accident, death, etc. Poverty, oppression, and some forms of disease are instances of evil arising from imperfect social organization. Mental suffering, such as anxiety, disappointment, and remorse, and the limitation of intelligence which prevents humans beings from attaining to the full comprehension of their environment, are congenital forms of evil each vary in character and degree according to natural disposition and social circumstances.

Are all types of pain and suffering, then, because of the Fall of Man? The simple answer is Yes. The choice of Adam and Eve, already created in the image of God, to disobey their Creator in a tragically misguided attempt to be "like God," led to evil being allowed to enter the world, permanently changing every facet and dimension of our lives. With the barrier of sin now present between us and our Heavenly Father, however, God never gave up on mankind, but He continually sought to give us the means to seek and receive redemption and freedom from the sin. While the sin weakens us, the suffering may build spiritual strength and endurance.

The simple answer to Why does God allow suffering? is really impossible until we first have a solid understanding of the nature of sin and evil. Once that is understood, we can say that suffering allows us to become the people God created us to be, refined by fire as it were. As previously mentioned, God allows our broken world to run its course. When my grandmother lay dying in a coma some years ago in a small hospital room overlooking the brilliant fall tapestry of the Yakima Valley below, I remarked to my grandfather "that it wasn't ever supposed to be this way." By that statement, I was trying to say that God had other plans for us--even though his omniscient nature was fully aware that we would fail. If there was no free will, we could not truly say that we could independently love God; we would be automatons, machines. Likewise, suffering may also be tied to this free will. We are held accountable for our bad choices and decisions--sin being the worst.

Along our journey, it’s important to remember that every person we meet within our hectic daily schedules is someone for whom Christ’s blood was spilled, and, therefore, a fellow member or potential member, of the Body of Christ. As C.S. Lewis reminds us in The Weight of Glory, there aren’t “ordinary people.” We all have everlasting souls. We are familiar perhaps with the idea of redemptive suffering, offering our pains and struggles up to God. If we can apply this kind of internal reverence to our daily lives, we are offering these routine activities up to Christ. In this way, we are also acknowledging that we our identity is greater than what our daily life may trick us to believe. That is, our identity should not necessarily be tied so closely to our work or vocation. We are more than what we do from 8-5; our jobs should not define us. When we understand this, we are transforming the mundane to the eternal as we strive to live Paul’s words from 1 Corinthians 10:31: “whatever you do, do for the glory of God.”

Not only may suffering lead us to a closer union with Christ, but God can bring good out of the evils we face. In conclusion, here is a passage from Saint Thomas Aquinas' masterpiece Summa Theologica. It's also followed by a short quote from C.S. Lewis' The Problem of Pain. Following this, I have also listed some additional reading suggestions, but I have intentionally kept the list very brief.

I answer that, It must be said that every evil in some way has a cause. For evil is the absence of the good, which is natural and due to a thing. But that anything fail from its natural and due disposition can come only from some cause drawing it out of its proper disposition. For a heavy thing is not moved upwards except by some impelling force; nor does an agent fail in its action except from some impediment... (Saint Thomas)

Pain hurts. That is what the word means. I am only trying to show that the old Christian doctrine of being made perfect through suffering is not incredible. To prove it palatable is beyond my design. (C.S. Lewis)

The Catechism of the Catholic Church *

Summa Theologica, Saint Thomas Aquinas

The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis

Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis

Thinking of Religion, Richard Purtell (out of print)

* Below are some informal notes from a CCC class my wife led some years ago.

Providence and the scandal of evil

(Why does evil exist?) Read CCC# 309

God’s Wisdom: He created it in a “state of journeying”

“With physical good there exists also physical evil as long as creation has not reached perfection.” CCC # 310

Free Will: “Angels and men, as intelligent and free creatures, have to journey toward their ultimate destinies by their free choice and preferential love.” CCC #311

God is all powerful: He causes Good out of evil

Read #312

“We know that in everything God works for good for those who love him.” Rom. 8:28

His ways are unknown to us. “Only at the end when our partial knowledge ceases…” will we understand. CCC#314

The Cougar and the Raven...and Science

I have to admit a soft spot for birds--especially crows, ravens, seagulls, and chickadees. I'll never forget the opportunity to rescue a crow with an injured wing in our backyard. It tamely let me feed it taco shells before I gently wrapped it in a towel for transport to a bird rescue facility in town. I also fondly recall giving it a drink of water with an old medicine dropper. Unfortunately, he decided to peck the arm of the bird rescue volunteer until it drew blood. (As an aside, we think this bird returned once or twice after it was re-habilitated across town. Sadly, I did not have taco shells readily at hand for the next visit.)

I give this preface, so you can understand perhaps why I sometimes enjoy reading about birds in my spare time. (In fact, as a fiction writer, it's hard to find time to read good fiction myself.) Right now, I'm almost finished with the Mind of the Raven by Bernd Heinrich. I've enjoyed the book for the most part, but one passage in the sixteenth chapter concerning an older lady named Mrs. Harnum annoyed me for its bias against those of faith. The chapter recounts strange behavior by a raven while the older Mrs. Harnum was completing chores in her yard, overshadowed by the neighboring forest. The strange raven vocalizations and erratic flying around her head caused her to follow its flight as it "buzzed" a large cougar that appeared to be stalking her from an overlooking ledge of rock. The woman called to her husband for help, and they chased the large cat away. The woman called the experience a miracle, claiming that the bird alerted her to the cougar's presence.

The author, of course, would not have the poor reader thinking a miracle may have in reality occurred, so he (plausibly) theorized that perhaps the raven was working with the cougar, and that they both wanted to chow down upon the old woman. This kind of partnering behavior as it relates to kills is apparently somewhat common with wolves, but I don't know whether, or not, cougars and ravens are known to often interact in this fashion. Whether they do, or not, is not so much the question with me. It seems plausible enough, but what seemed silly to me was the author's failure to further analyze the situation; he instead fell upon his bias against religion to point him in the desired direction. If the two animals were indeed working together, I suggest that it leads us to an even greater miracle: a wild raven and cougar cooperated in the wild to bring down an aged woman caught alone outside, but they were mysteriously foiled at their bloody plot. What really caused the woman to realize she was in danger? Looking below the surface, then, we see a potentially even greater miracle.

In a similar vein, there was recently a science show my son was watching concerning the brain. I sat down and watched it for a few minutes as it described the stimulation of a part of the test subject's brain theorized to be associated with religion and the supernatural. When the brain was stimulated in a particular way, the test subject reported being aware of other beings in the room with her. As I recall, she said she could make out vague shapes. The pleasant feeling of companionship was then followed by something described as a hot and fiery place. The interviewed scientist reported (in so many words) that this test was evidence against God and faith, as these spiritual feelings could be brought to the surface using targeted electric stimulations of the brain.

First of all, it seems to me that for the experiment to be considered valid it should be carried out simultaneously with multiple subjects. If each subject reports the exact same experience, I think it raises more questions than answers. I am not suggesting that, if carried out, each subject would report similar "presences," but to fail to go this extra step betrays a bias which colors the conclusions. To suggest conclusions based on non-simultaneous testing seems to embrace a bias against the supernatural realm.

Secondly, even if this is determined to be true and feelings of a religious or spiritual nature can be so prodded and teased from our minds, what does this really prove? Genesis 1 teaches that we were formed in the image of God. The need for God is stamped upon our very hearts and minds. The fact that this need may be associated with a particular region of our mind is neither particularly surprising nor suggestive of a conflict between faith and science. It is, yet again, simply showing us the bias against religion held by some of those within the scientific community. As St. Thomas Aquinas taught, faith and reason compliment each other, as both are reflections of Truth.

(Photo taken several years ago at Snoqualmie Summit in Washington State.)