Allow me to offer two difficult aspirins to the perpetual headache. The first is for those who still have their kids at home, at any age: parents, reclaim your rightful scepter. Parents are parents because their children are unwise. I often hear the suggestion from parents that they wish to let their children “choose” their religious practice. To this I promptly respond, “Your child cannot even tie their shoes, nor live on their own, let alone know about eternal realities.” Life lived from merely our own choice is often Hell, and thus God invented limitations and boundaries. My parents gave me rules to guide me to good things, and so my mother made me eat broccoli despite my protests. Thus my father made me go to Mass as long as I was under his roof. To act otherwise was to demand severe consequences, to which my parents had the right; for truly they had my best interest. Mistreating a brother might earn a grounding, but woe to the one in the house who mistreats God by missing Mass on Sunday. Serious consequences follow serious matters. So, power to the parent: you can do it, namely, enforce religious practice, and you must for the salvation of what God has gifted you.
 
Now the second difficult aspirin is the notion of sacrifice. For this, allow me to recount my mother’s enlightenment one Sunday morning, much to my teenage disappointment. A few pews ahead of us was that perfect family, promptly early every Mass, five boys, clad dress shirts, ties and often suits. Prim and proper; the best for God every Sunday. “If those little kids do that every Sunday,” declared my mother, “there is no reason we should look like slobs.” And she  added, to my detestation, “and so no more jeans for you! Just dress pants!” Uggh, I must have groaned, but oh to  my benefit!  What do we show our youth what is really   important?  It is what we spend time, money, and energy upon; or maybe more pointedly, it is what we sacrifice for. No longer was Sunday Mass just a thing we had to get to; it was a process and so purposeful.  It was sacrificial.  No longer was there TV in the morning, no music; we had to read the readings together beforehand, and what a game-changer. It turned Mass into game-time. Looking back at it now, it seems so reasonable. How was it that we were so busy about the things of the world, but so flippant about eternal realities?  In short, if you want your kids to go to Mass, start sacrificing to show just how important Sunday Mass is. We show sacrifice by what we do beforehand to prepare, how we dress, and what we talk about.
 
A closing note on a rather difficult couple of aspirins. If going to Sunday Mass is difficult to focus on, imagine what it would be like if the priest were handing out a million dollars to everyone who came. You wouldn’t dare miss it, would you? How would you prepare? What would you need to confess beforehand to not offend the Giver?  How would you look for such a grand reception of honor? Indeed, to those who are properly prepared, there is something much more precious than a check, it is God Himself in a little wafer.

For several years now, at the insistence of many of my trusted teachers, I have made it a point to continue learning. Thus, I am the forever student, reading and adjusting. It seems to me that my teachers made this insistence because of the  Christian insistence that our world  fundamentally is both good and for us (Gen 1:28-31). Perhaps more simply, the Christian sees correctly that the world and everything in it is a gift.  We Christians are the perpetual children of our world, constantly delighted at the many gifts that our heavenly Father has given us; and we glee giddily every morning to the living room that is Earth, where there awaits shiny new discoveries beneath the wrappings of learning. Hence, we Christians are obsessed with building schools, mapping the stars, and creating  magnificent cathedral buildings that nearly defy mathematics. Medieval monks made the Dark Ages not so dark by reading and writing when Europe could not, the itch to calculate Easter correctly granted the world accurate astronomy, and the Church’s valuing of human beings led to hospitals and medicinal studies. All of these occurred, in short, because the Christian sees the world as a gift worthy of opening and discovering.

Now today, it seems that one of the greatest temptations is to deny that creation is a gift, and we do this whenever we look at creation, including other humans, and say meh. It is more than our refusal to learn, it is our refusal to let the flowers be smelled or the clerk to be looked at. God looked at the world He created and declared it good, but we can think that is a lie. Indeed, this is the first and perhaps greatest heresy, for it denies God’s first declaration that He made creation good.  Thus, our refusal to learn tells God that His gifts are not interesting.  Our refusal to be loved tells God that He is a liar for saying we are made good.

The remedy to our unhealthy disinterestedness is reading. Read everyday and diversify.  In just the last year alone, outside of school, I read several books and learned about integrated circuitry, photography, biblical commentaries, history, Thomas Aquinas, as well as some novels. I have a running list of books to read, so I never have an excuse to stop reading. It is no accident that the ancient word liber is the same word for both book and free. Freedom is          intrinsically linked to the ability to read and learn; so be a student because students are a free people.  God is the teacher, and this world is His lesson book; and O the many lessons that are in it!

Lent comes from the Old English, Lencten which means springtime, which is that time of intensive growth of new life. Just as God lifts back the blanket of snow to foster growth in his world, so also do we lift back the things that may be smothering our growth. God is our highest Good, but if we are honest with ourselves, God has competitors in our lives. We are half-hearted creatures too easily pleased with the fleeting things around us. So often we fill our bellies but not our hearts, and screens numb our minds while we starve our spirit. We humans have this nasty tendency to prioritize things that mean little when we know what matters most.

In short, our Lord is giving us a springtime to do some spring cleaning inside. What are the little goods in life that are preventing you from the highest Good?  Our “Yes” to screens, foods, and comforts might be good in themselves, but they leave us simply content and not fulfilled. They can become pacifiers for us, a distraction from our true need, which of course is the spiritual need that only God fills. So fast, do penance!  We, the children of God, do not need pacifiers when we express our discomfort; no, we need spiritual food, to be held, to be loved. The love of the Father alone can quell our aching hearts. By fasting from our pacifiers, that is our lesser goods, we force ourselves to find nourishment from God alone.

So here is an easy way to prep for Lent. Honestly name your top two pacifiers (goods that you like but don’t really nourish you spiritually), and give up one (or both if you are really ready to grow). The most common ones are unnecessary screens (Internet, cellphone, TV), and unnecessary foods. Let yourself be challenged this Lent and give them up. Don’t cheap out, either. Do not just give up chocolate and then pig out on chips; just fast between meals or fast from all sweets and junk foods. Do not just give up YouTube and then waste your Lent on Netflix or video games. Give up unnecessary media, period. If we are unable to say “No” to lesser goods, how can we ever learn to say “Yes” to the highest Good?

During the first weeks of Ordinary Time, we hear at Mass the beginnings of Jesus’ ministry, and eventually we will hear about the call of the first disciples. These calls are nostalgic to us; they touch us in a way that is familiar and yet it remains distant from us. We wish to hear the call, but nonetheless, we do not always know how and when He calls. Yet we are nevertheless called, no matter where we are in life.
 
I wish to briefly outline some insights on how to hear the call from God, especially for those discerning a vocation to the priesthood or religious life. The first “rule” as it is called by St. Ignatius, is how God works on people who are in mortal sin.  God stings the conscience to move us to repentance. The second is opposite, for God works in a different way on people who are striving for virtues and purifying sins. In these people, God acts by giving courage, strength, and fruits of the Spirit like peace and joy.  God loves to lead us with peace and joy when we are living His way, even when things are difficult or not convenient. In short, God stings us when we are bad, and He consoles us when we are doing good.
 
These do not mean that listening is easy.  Rather, these rules mean that we have a guide to discern and understand when and how God might be operative in our lives. Thus, here are some suggestions based on these first rules of St. Ignatius. 1. Get out of mortal sin: it is mortal, you see, to your spiritual life. Mortal sins, of which there are many, literally separate you from God, like intentionally skipping Sunday Mass among other morally grave matters (if you felt a sting when you read this, that might be God using the first rule!). It’s easy, just go to Confession: ask a priest when you see him, make a plan with God, and start anew. 2. Pray through your experiences, thoughts, and desires. Is there peace and joy at all with these?  If there is a strong reaction toward or against something, including a vocation, it is worth looking into more.

The word Advent, from the Latin adventus, is very closely related to the word, adventure, and what a good descriptor of Advent it is. Advent is in a real way, adventurous.  We are going from one place spiritually to another.  If we are not moving spiritually, then we are spiritually dead, for dead things do not move or grow. Advent is thus a time of adventure and lively discovery of the Lord.
 
Nevertheless, as much as advent is about our adventure towards the Lord, much more is it about the Lord’s adventure.  After all, we are remembering the Lord’s coming to Earth.  God is coming to town, making a list, and then visiting your house to give you incredible gifts.  None of it is magic, though, but even more amazing, it is grace.  He may not be coming down your chimney, but He is coming to your soul, and it better be ready.  He has ventured far from his majesty in heaven to reside in the little manger that is you. Indeed, we are all little mangers, with our own animals and filth, but we also have some of those majestic kings from the East and our humble quietude: and indeed, that is where God wants to be born.  He loves coming into our filth, and He longs to make it beautiful.
 
This Advent, like every Advent, has two sides. There is the fact of the Lord’s coming, as He is always coming, knocking on the doors of our hearts, beckoning us to listen and know His love.  He is having an adventure that takes Him into our little manger selves, full of animals and other interesting things.  On the other side, there is also the fact of us, the majestic travelers from the East or the humble shepherds from the fields, adventuring to discover Jesus in our lives. The encounter, for which we long, requires both. The Lord pursues us, and we also must pursue Him.

Over the past couple months, Fr. Guanella and I have been watching a couple shows about once a week: The Rings of Power and Kenobi. Throughout the shows, we noticed that a couple characters stuck out to both of us, namely the villains, the evil lord Sauron and the evil Darth Vader. For those unfamiliar with these famous villains, they exemplify something nostalgic about villains, for they possess an unforgettable twisted psychosis. In short, they suffer the illusion that they are righteous while they commit horrendous deeds. Indeed, such is the case of all good villains. Joker from Batman, for example, is truly psychotic: he delights in chaos and sees good in ensuing chaos. Thanos believes he is a savior by murdering half of the overpopulated universe. Sauron likewise believes he is healing the world by killing those he deems imperfect.  Darth Vader kills children in the name of providing order to his galaxy.

These villains are truly scary and villainous because they are so inhuman: they defy the most human parts of us, namely reason and love.  One could almost imagine reasoning with Scar from The Lion King, or even the Evil Queen from Snow White; these villains at least desire beauty and kingship. The truly evil villains, however, desire not even themselves because they cannot see the world as God sees it. It is as if they are blind to goodness, reason, and love. Yet such is the price of sin; it makes us inhuman, scary, and unreasonable. Villains exaggerate what is subtle within each of us, for deep down within us all is that horrific tendency toward unreflective arrogance that is a  blindness to how things really are. Evil convinces us that we are righteous, and it blinds us to our need for God.  It is so easy to convince ourselves that we are decent people; but God does not want us to be decent people, He wants us to be perfect saints.  It is so easy to convince ourselves that our worldview is righteous and perfect; but God does not want our plan, He wants His plan.
 

Quite recently, I have been working with the Dead Theologians Society, a monthly middle and high school program about the saints at SS Peter and Paul Parish. At our last meeting, I was struck by St. Faustina’s vision of Hell. In the vision, she recounts how most of the damned had never even believed in the existence of Hell, yet they were nonetheless there. This vision struck me because it points out a dangerous tendency in our human condition: we tend to take the supernatural with a super laxness. Magic or sorcery is a notable example; many today dismiss actual magic as not real, when in fact there is real and dangerous magic. Charms and healing crystals are another common example; people wear them with the thought that they are harmless superstitions, when in fact they call upon supernatural and unknown powers (CCC 2117). Demons are extremely intelligent beings, and one of their tactics today is subtlety. They can get a pathway to our lives by making us disbelieve them and their many ways of calling upon their power.  

To many reading this article, this all might seem a bit too superstitious or like medieval simplicity. Let me assure you, I have met enough exorcists to know that demonic powers are real and quite dangerous. The stories of demonic problems can often start with innocent intent, and then superstitious activity coupled with mortal sin make for a scary time. For the sake of clarity, none of this is to awaken interest in these practices; I write these things to deter you. Please stay away from charms, sorcery, witchcraft or any practice that claims to call upon supernatural forces. Your best defense, as most exorcists have recommended to me, is the sacrament of Confession and the life of grace. Ten exorcisms cannot pretend to have the power of one good Confession, for devils cannot live in a house of light and grace.

Last Sunday, we remembered the tragedy that was 9-11, the anniversary of the plane terrorist attacks on the United States.  While that day remains infamous, the next day is not as well known; September 12, the Feast of the Holy Name of Mary. I, among others, suspect that the two days, the 9-11 of 2001 and the 9-12 of Mary are intricately connected.  For the feast was created after a heroic victory over Islamic forces invading Europe in 1683 on that famous date of 9-11 going into 9-12.  Hence the feast day of victory for Mary, and also hence the carefully picked day for   Islamic extremists to exact terror on the Christian world in 2001.

In 1683, Europe was very different than it is today. The Muslim world was encroaching upon the Christian but very divided Europe. Ottoman forces had reached as far as Vienna, a city that would prove to be a turning point for an advance against Europe; it was strategic for its access to numerous trade routes and the Danube to the Black Sea, not to mention its position on the doorsteps to the Holy Roman Empire. Some 150,000 Ottomans began the two-month siege on the city, and in that dark hour, a summons came for Europe to rally in response, but not many would suspect Poland to be the hero.  King Sobieski rallied his soldiers and thousands of his “Winged Hussar” heavy cavalry who were said to have resembled angels in battle with their wings. They set out in August, leaving Poland practically defenseless.  When they reached Vienna, Sobieski himself led the largest cavalry charge in   recorded history, some 18,000 horsemen with tens of thousands of soldiers against the massive 150,000 soldier army of the Ottomans. The horsemen descended hills upon their foes with their massive wings, and some say that their wings “whistled” in the wind as they approached their foes.

The victory of 9-12 proved to be the turning point of the conflict between Europe and the Ottoman Empire, and it was so much a victory for Europe that Sobieski was declared by the Pope to be the defender of  Christendom. Sobieski humbly attributed his victory to the Holy Mass and to Mary, to whom he pleaded for victory before the battle; Pope Innocent XI consequently declared September 12 to forever honor the Most Holy Name of Mary, which saved Europe.  I pray that our current battles with secularism and atheism today will have a similar outcome; may Mary intercede for us to bring in the heroic forces that will conquer that which threatens Christianity.

At Mass lately, we have heard from a mysterious man about mysterious things, namely Isaiah the prophet.  He lived some 700 years before Christ in Jerusalem during some of the key moments in the  Holy Land’s history, like Assyria destroying the northern kingdom of Israel and the subsequent siege of Jerusalem.  What I want to provide today, however, is not a comprehensive history but rather a key to   understanding Isaiah.  In short, the key to Isaiah is his call, just as God’s call is the key to every human heart; for the heart is a secret door with a secret password, and the password is God’s voice. God’s voice unlocked Isaiah and unleashed him upon the world, just as it should unlock each of us.

God calls Isaiah (Is. 6) after showing him a vision of His absolute majesty and glory, which brings Isaiah to a profound sense of unworthiness.  If God’s call is the key to every human heart, here is the lock, namely the sense of humble unworthiness.  Isaiah became aware of just how little he was before God, and God works best with the little; perhaps this is why God wanted to make us His little children. God made Isaiah little, and thus He unleashed him upon the world to make it little so that they would  “return and be healed” (Is 6:10). The rest of Isaiah’s prophecy relies on this call: he is making people look up to a savior by making them look at their need for saving.  Only the lowly look will look up to heaven; the proud are too busy looking at everything else.

Isaiah teaches us that the prerequisite to holiness is humility, a word that literally means lowly or of-the-ground.  The lower we are, the more aware we are of the God above us; and it is no wonder that Jesus would command us to have humble hearts (Matt 11:29).   After all, the smallest among us are often the easiest to love and spoil, even when it is a lot of work; for  children are humble enough to know that they cannot do everything themselves.  I imagine that it is similar for God; it is much easier for Him to love us and direct us when we are humble before Him.