Living a Luminous Life or What I learned from Watching Zombie Movies...

If we want to see darkness, all we need do is turn on the news. Even our entertainment seems to reveal a fascination and awareness that there is a gathering dark.  Our movies are full of monsters and apocalypses, of all that is good and green being destroyed and burned in favor of the uniformity of creatures consumed by the need to consume, stripped all of beauty, all of individuality and capacity for charity.  There are the predators (the destroyers of the world) and the prey (the not yet consumed and ever yet dwindling group of increasingly vulnerable people).

Our entertainment reveals our fears and what our rational minds don't want to deal with directly; that we fear a great damn of restraint somehow bursting onto our domestic tranquility and destroying everything in its wake.  We do not know what holds back that great appetite. We do not name it though we recognize some of its markers in morality and law.

Neither do we recognize the monsters and their origin, though our creations betray that our subconscious knows.  All of our monsters are undead, demonic, soulless.  All of our monsters seek to turn us into undead,animated but not alive, demonic, soulless.  Ergo, we know even if we do not say, where these monsters come from and why we fear them even as we tell ourselves, they aren't real.  We live in a fallen world, and in a fallen world, the only way to salvation, is the cross and the graces that come from embracing said cross. The only way to participate in the cross, is to be like the one who died on the cross to others, to be salt and light in a tasteless and dark world.

How do we do that when so much of our day is spent on things that just eat time, like errands and emails, laundry and dishes, oil changes and bills, phone messages and waiting for repairmen?  We have to be good stewards of all of our gifts, starting with the gift of time.  The first thing the heroes who hope to survive do, is buy some time to think, to plan, to recover and assess.  They shed everything that isn't important or necessary. I need to be a better steward of my time, and to shed what is not important or necessary.

Honoring Sunday is a second task I've decided to take to heart.  It used to be the day I caught up on everything, so every other day could be easier, but that just meant Sunday was harder than every other day. We are called to be joyful witnesses.  It is hard to be joyful if you're exhausted, ergo, Sunday is necessary if we are to live luminous lives.    It is supposed to be a day of rest, so now we are setting into motion the idea of tidying up on Saturday as a family, so that Sunday is only a willed day. We will go to mass, we will do things together, to rest from the week of work.

There comes a point where the hero loses hope if he goes on too long.  He becomes weary and needs to stop.  The oasis point where he discovers he is no longer alone is necessary to gear up for the final battle.  Our culture does not value leisure. It views play as a means to an end (fitness for example).  It is not that fitness is not a good goal, but it is not why one should play, one should play to experience the joy and freedom that is play.  We will cook on the BBQ or garden or read or write or watch baseball or play cards, but we will be playing on Sunday. We will pray and play, allowing ourselves to rest and recoup and thus be a witness of lighter hearts for the world.

It's a dangerous thing going out your door.  We'd all like to think that somehow our corner of the shire, of the world is safe from whatever it is that is outside, that is out there, but the reality in every good horror film, is that the evil that stalks always comes where you think you are finally safe.  This is a theological battle as well, thus you cannot be content to stay where you are, you must always move further in, further on, you must always learn more, pray more, love more, do more and still hold to the gifts of time as precious and prayer, rest, others and play as necessary. To be a hero in these films, you cannot remove yourself from the world, you cannot despair and you cannot succumb, you must rise, you must continue and you must hope that when a new day comes it will shine out the clearer.  You'll appreciate it more, because you know what could have been and what isn't.

Part of why I wrote this post is that I read a piece by Father Dwight Longnecker, Why I'm Scared.  And I thought, he amongst others who are feeling the weight of the world in light of recent events, needed a reminder that being a light to the world, however luminous, is not easy, but it is necessary.  If you're going to be the hero in this movie, you should recognize, you're going to be scared. You're going to be hunted. You're going to need to keep going anyway.  All of these people, even the ones who write wrong and hateful things in the com boxes, they need to be saved from the disease of sin too.  Since he used the story of I am Legend as his example, I could point out, (SPOILER ALERT), in the end, Legend's self sacrifice allows the woman and child to escape to a safe house with the cure that will eventually help restore those possessed by the disease and allow them to reclaim their humanity lost all this time.   Pray. Rest. Play. Plan.  Act.

So be not afraid.  In the end, we win.

Sherry and the Zombies

There are moments when prayers are answered and my first response is, "I got to stop praying." I don't mean it, but the sinful part that doesn't want a deeper relationship with God or a more meaningful relationship with anyone else, does.  Because too often, I hold to God and focus only on His generosity, and no where, no how, it's too scary, will I allow myself to focus on His searing instruction that demands the death of self.
But it kept coming up.

 Recently, I began praying for the ability to hold onto friends.  I asked why it was so hard for me. 

All prayers are answered. When you ask to be made deeper, the fastest root is pain and suffering.  When we experience conflict between our relationship with God and the world, we're thrown into sharp relief with who we are and who we are called to be.  The Holy Spirit is fire. The Holy Spirit convicts.  The Holy Spirit cannot work where there is no room, and I struggle daily with my attempt to double book the world of my ego and the Holy Spirit in the same heart.  Being gracious, the Holy Spirit grievously surrenders the seat to the world every time I say that is what I want.  You win Sherry, here's the world's answer.

Then I wonder why I am miserable. 

I've come to know my ego is rather zombie like.  I keep thinking its dead, it is not, but it is not fully alive either, it is undead.  It keeps coming and when I am not vigilant, it takes over, eats my brain, and I no longer see what I am doing is destructive. I only feed my desire.  When anyone calls me on it, I attack.  I see that no one else will let me do what I want.  Like I said, the ego zombie eats the brain.

This is not a case of false humility, it is a case of knowing while I am reflective, I am not thoughtful.  Thus I am great for the instagram/twitter type moment of generosity or friendship, I see you, you need to talk, I listen. I see you, you need help, I do. I see you, you ask, I will give.

But the long term stuff, the thinking and thinking and thinking of you stuff that matters, where the other person is surprised by a gift of self often slips by me and I have hurt people in layers over time by my careless ways of drifting through friendships such that a lot of those that could have been infinitely precious, eventually ebb away. These patterns to the other affected seem at best thoughtless and fickle; they convict me of being well intentioned, but wrong.  We all know where good intentions lead.  Faith without works is empty.

The zombies seem harmless and slow but ultimately if not stopped, will kill that which is good because they cannot see the value of anything save their own appetites.  (I'll ignore the current rage for sentient zombies who are somehow heroic), I don't need any help in rationalizing the extent of my own appetites. 

Talking with a classmate from college, we related in an instant our hang ups about friendships and then proceeded to provide our very own examples of that reality without even realizing it.  She always felt she was intruding. I talked about how I clown and expand to fill the room trying to put on a show to prove I'm likable.  We'd decided to walk to the grotto. I immediately began painting a picture of the whys of it, to prove she should go with me. She'd already agreed.  Immediately she asked if I wanted that time to myself.  I said no.  But the proof of our hang ups was right there. "Are we ever going to get out of our 7th grade selves?" I asked.  We both laughed.

But the question lingers.  When will this zombie ego that only likes to be liked in the moment and never wants to grow beyond here just stop already? When will it know that it doesn't need to do that and shouldn't and that if it really wants more than the instant and ever less satisfying gratification of the cheap laugh, it is going to have to think or feel beyond me, me, me and now, now, now and the next now?   

Like all sin, the only solution is 1) to see it --which is quite painful, 2) own it --again, ow, 3) ask for grace to overcome it yes, I'm doing that, and 4) repeat repeat repeat times infinity while doing whatever grace directs you to do, i.e. change.  So I'm asking and that's a scary act.  Then, I have to act and keep acting, and that's even harder.  

Prayers.

Obama Sneezes as the World Watches

In a recent stump speech in Texas, Obama paused to blow his nose and people applauded.

When asked about her nasal passages, Hillary sniffed, "Sure I could use a hanky in public, but being more experienced at these things, I consider a nostril full of substance to be more compelling."

The crowds that amass at Obama's every stop in his campaign for the Democratic Nominee have reported finding long lost kittens, an absence of rheumatism, and spouts of spontaneous literacy in foreign tongues.

"It's incredible." said one gasping fan as she slurped down a Boston crème. "He's like the chosen one. The one we've been waiting for. His midi-chlorian count must be off the charts." She added in a low eager hopeful whisper, "I bet he even has the lightning shaped scar somewhere."

More seasoned veterans of the political junket remarked on how the ground seemed to be erupting with wild flowers wherever the charismatic candidate walked.

CNN reported that the used hanky had been posted on EBay and was currently holding at a bid of $24,000.00, with all of the proceeds going to charity. The anonymous bidder did leave a note indicating that if he was so fortunate as to win the auction, the DNA residue would be given over to science in the hopes of cloning a future Obama for posterity.

Meanwhile, the Clinton campaign must answer questions about campaign discrepancies in financing that include $1,300.oo for Dunkin Donuts alone. Rumors that Obama zealots raided the Clinton campaign for breakfast supplies to feed the 5000 that showed up for his speech in Houston, have so far been unconfirmed.

"At least my vampiric minions aren't pure zombies." the once and future Presidential Candidate, queen of the Night snapped.

Obama walked into the crowded room to chants and swoons and screams of pure joy. The phenomena of his presence caused one MSNBC correspondent to acknowledge, "Rome could burn and people would come to hear him fiddle."

Play on Obama, play on.

For more insights on who to vote for, this is probably not the place, but given the state of things, it might be more amusing, try www.humor-blogs.com!