TIME, time
By Eric
IT IS time.
ONLY FOR A MOMENT
THE HEART stands.
WILL NOT still
and WAIT FOR someone
will announce THE CALL
the end
THAT SATISFIES.
Wake, DREAMER
Sleep, RESTLESS WORRIER
It's all the same.
I FINALLY FOUND The question
THAT is SWEET
What is BETWEEN
your solution
and my problem.?
I WOULD rather WANDER
AND WONDER what
is the point of asking, for
WHO WOULD KNOW WITHOUT
having DELIGHT? at the mystery...?
That is more fun.
IT IS BETTER time flows on.
NOT TO KNOW time is indeed sweeter than to know TIMELESS THINGS
IT IS BETTER not TO BE CONFUSED
where you are going
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Seeds on Hard Ground
Many of you will have already read Tom Waits' poem: "Seeds on Hard Ground". The full text of it is available here and I heartily recommend it. It also serves as good spiritual reading in addition to being a fine poem in its own right.
Tom Waits published copies of the poem to raise money for the homeless in his area. It speaks to his own experience of the problems of the very poor he has encountered; and their songs and stories.
But I found it a poignant reminder of my own work with the homeless in Montreal. And it even speaks to me here in this tropical land, where the massive gap between rich and poor so sharply divides the haves and have-nots.
There are many messages that I appreciate. One is the human need for growth, even in the worst conditions. But the use of the biblical image is so perfect. Tom Waits does not call the people hard ground, as Christ indicated in his explanation of the parable of the sower. Tom Waits points out that the people are also the seeds.
The poor are God's Word, being sown upon the earth in the hopes they will bear fruit in the charity of others. But we, individuals and societies, are hard ground. We do not listen to the Word of God beings spoken so clearly in the eyes of those in desperate and desolate need of our love, attention, and respect.
A seed that cannot grow because of our hardness of heart is indeed a tragedy. And it stirs us to soften and listen, so that the poor can find a place in our own hearts, and bear fruit.
Tom Waits published copies of the poem to raise money for the homeless in his area. It speaks to his own experience of the problems of the very poor he has encountered; and their songs and stories.
But I found it a poignant reminder of my own work with the homeless in Montreal. And it even speaks to me here in this tropical land, where the massive gap between rich and poor so sharply divides the haves and have-nots.
There are many messages that I appreciate. One is the human need for growth, even in the worst conditions. But the use of the biblical image is so perfect. Tom Waits does not call the people hard ground, as Christ indicated in his explanation of the parable of the sower. Tom Waits points out that the people are also the seeds. The poor are God's Word, being sown upon the earth in the hopes they will bear fruit in the charity of others. But we, individuals and societies, are hard ground. We do not listen to the Word of God beings spoken so clearly in the eyes of those in desperate and desolate need of our love, attention, and respect.
A seed that cannot grow because of our hardness of heart is indeed a tragedy. And it stirs us to soften and listen, so that the poor can find a place in our own hearts, and bear fruit.
Comic annoyance
 |
| People are not really this big! |
Literally.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Consider
Blessings to you on the feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord. Thanks to Ted, who introduced me to Sufjan Stevens' music through this song...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Dialogue
Eric: "So is asking God to overthrow an unjust society a real prayer?"
Students: "Asking God for help in doing violence is sinful"
Eric: "What of the psalms and the prayers of Israel for victory over the enemy?"
Students: "They are God's chosen people, God does give them victory if they obey Him."
Eric: "So violence isn't wrong?"
The class splits on the issue. They ask whether there were such prayers in the New Testament
Eric: "Jesus, when he is arrested, tells his followers not to do violence to rescue Him. He remarks that, if he wanted to, he could command legions of angels to overcome His enemies. But He does not wish to because He wants to work the Salvation of the world according to the Father's will. Note that he could pray for military victory if he wished. It would be a valid prayer. But it is not a perfect prayer. Likewise, the Israelite armies prayer for victory was real and good, because they expressed their true desires to God and trusted in His power and help.
Similarly, we have our own stages of prayer. Sometimes we pray to God for what we want, which is good and healthy. But it triggers a process wherein which we move closer to God. And through growing, learning, struggling, and developing we can reach the stage where, like Jesus, we ask not for what we ourselves want but what God wants."
Eric: "Why are you talking while I'm talking?"
Student: "Well, I -" pause.
Eric: "Yes?"
Student: "Forget it, I was going to explain, justify why this guy was... while I... anyways..."
Eric: "You're sensing that there is no good reason for you to be talking while I'm talking. Good. There could be a good reason. You might have a bomb strapped to your heart that will explode if you stop talking, that's an example..."
Students: "Asking God for help in doing violence is sinful"
Eric: "What of the psalms and the prayers of Israel for victory over the enemy?"
Students: "They are God's chosen people, God does give them victory if they obey Him."
Eric: "So violence isn't wrong?"
The class splits on the issue. They ask whether there were such prayers in the New Testament
Eric: "Jesus, when he is arrested, tells his followers not to do violence to rescue Him. He remarks that, if he wanted to, he could command legions of angels to overcome His enemies. But He does not wish to because He wants to work the Salvation of the world according to the Father's will. Note that he could pray for military victory if he wished. It would be a valid prayer. But it is not a perfect prayer. Likewise, the Israelite armies prayer for victory was real and good, because they expressed their true desires to God and trusted in His power and help.
Similarly, we have our own stages of prayer. Sometimes we pray to God for what we want, which is good and healthy. But it triggers a process wherein which we move closer to God. And through growing, learning, struggling, and developing we can reach the stage where, like Jesus, we ask not for what we ourselves want but what God wants."
Eric: "Why are you talking while I'm talking?"
Student: "Well, I -" pause.
Eric: "Yes?"
Student: "Forget it, I was going to explain, justify why this guy was... while I... anyways..."
Eric: "You're sensing that there is no good reason for you to be talking while I'm talking. Good. There could be a good reason. You might have a bomb strapped to your heart that will explode if you stop talking, that's an example..."
Monday, March 14, 2011
Video: Eric Living and Working in Jamaica
Dear Friends. After much delay, I am finally sharing the video created by Fr. Marc while he was here. It details where I'm living and working and shows me sharing some of my experiences. It also has some of Marc's characteristic directorial flare, which is much appreciated. We expect the Jesuits will use it as a vocation promotion video.
It is a chance to see me in my classroom as well as various places around the house, so you can get a sense of the place. You will note the complete absence of snow. As Homer Simpson once said, "Viva Life".
It is a chance to see me in my classroom as well as various places around the house, so you can get a sense of the place. You will note the complete absence of snow. As Homer Simpson once said, "Viva Life".
Click the Picture to view the video
Friday, March 11, 2011
Movie Review, Battle for L.A.
Pointlessly formulaic, but fun, lots of explosions and battles as promised.
I propose, however, that one should view the movie not from the perspective of our heroes, but rather from the perspective of the aliens. This is hard to do: in classic Jaws style, you don't really see the aliens until halfway through the movie. But I extrapolate that their thought processes are much more fascinating than those of the screen-hogging humans.
The aliens, light-years away, view the Earth. "Look at them," says one, "the U.S. is very interesting. None of the rest of the world is as good. They have these wonderful armies and tanks and missiles, all working like an elegant nervous system, ready to sweep in, to do or die!"
"Yes," says an other alien, "with lots of explosions. But its kind of sad. Whenever they invade a country these days, they have to muck about with avoiding 'civilian casualties, upholding conventions, and building infrastructure. It's ridiculous, grown-up stuff. What they need is a wave of unequivocally evil baddies... like back in WWII."
"You want the U.S. to invade Italy?" the third alien comes in, just having finished a good day of snarling and creeping through underbrush.
The alien law-student couldn't help joining the argument. "No, no, no. What they need is an unquestionable moral imperative; they need to be invaded, not invade!"
"Canadians sweeping down from the border, red-coated mounties with shining battle-lances?" the group perked up their sensory tentacles at this.
But another alien, who was busily flipping through Facebook on his black-shelled, evil-looking personal computer, disagreed, "No again! You're thinking far too old-school. Lances? What rubbish: what we want is big waves of troops slamming into eachother, with rumbling armoured vehicles and lots of shots and explosions."
"That would be awesome!" all cried, "I wish I could be there to see it!" Then it got suddenly quiet.
The aliens would have stroked their beards, had they possessed any that were on their faces and not in glass jars. "What if..."
And that crystallizing moment happened. With one accord, a whole race of people gathered their spaceships together and started building. "Robot mechs that shoot orange explodey rays!" they ordered.
"Not at first, you've got to pace it. First we'll crash land in the ocean and then we'll loom up out of the see and shoot smaller and slightly less-accurate explodey things!" This suggestion was greeted with great enthusiasm.
They worked it all out. Except for how the heroic humans would win the day. "They're the underdogs, they have to win. We need some mechanism whereby their whole army combined can't beat us, but a scrappy force of rookies with big hearts can sneak in behind our lines and blow something up that will foil our invasion."
"Yes, yes!" piped in the expert roboticist, "like the droid control ship from Star Wars. Why would anybody make their whole army dependent on one computer?"
The others scoffed, "oh, don't go there. Next you'll be asking why, if we wanted to invade the U.S., we wouldn't just hang out in orbit dropping bombs until they had no more soldiers left."
The hyperspace engineer added, "or worse yet, you'll start asking why we'd even bother to invade it: what could a space-faring society possibly want to conquor the U.S. for?"
"Because it'll be exciting!" they all cried.
An alien movie-critic heard the conversation and lumbered forward, "yes, but that's not believable. What we need is some kind of nefarious motivation!"
"Let's threaten to eat their brains!" someone shouted.
"Wait, no: we might actually have to do it a few times to establish that, gross. Can you imagine how disgusting that would taste... let's just say we're going to steal their water. They always harp on and on about how much ocean they have. Like that was so special, Rigel 9 is just a big ball of it: not even any core."
"I dunno - they're worried about their ocean getting to high as it is. Do you think they'd just let us if we started sucking it all up?" There was a quick, snarled debate. But in the end, nobody wanted to be the first to put yucky human-brain in their mouth. So stealing water won the day as the motive.
As expected, the Marines were thrilled at the aliens' generosity. The aliens made a big show of flying out of dark corners, blasting around the enemy to look scary but rarely hitting anyone. They also brought in an impressive array of robots and mechs and scary machinery. And when a scrappy team of marines crawled in deep behind their lines to blow up their command ship, the aliens duly kept the tension up until the very end, forgetting that they had the big robots and explodey missiles and returning to street-to-street fighting.
All in all, the aliens put in a lot of effort, even bothering to land a few troops around other cities over the globe so that when the Marines prevailed, they saved the world and not only the U.S.
I'm sure a few months after the closing credits the aliens got bored and teleported away to put themselves back together and recount stories. "Did you see me scare that one guy? I was all like 'blarrrrg!' and I jumped from the roof down to that dumpster."
"That's nothing," another would say, "did you see me fly out of that swimming pool? That guy nearly wet his pants."
"Shot you like fifty times, though."
"Yeah, they were pretty cool. I love it when they shout 'cover your six' and 'go, go, go!' like that. It sounds so military-y."
"Yeah," he said, "maybe we should go back there and do the east coast next time!"
So the movie closes and the heroes learn to work together and never stop believing in themselves, no matter how much the odds are against them. Especially if the aliens have a sufficiently dedicated sense of drama."
I propose, however, that one should view the movie not from the perspective of our heroes, but rather from the perspective of the aliens. This is hard to do: in classic Jaws style, you don't really see the aliens until halfway through the movie. But I extrapolate that their thought processes are much more fascinating than those of the screen-hogging humans.
The aliens, light-years away, view the Earth. "Look at them," says one, "the U.S. is very interesting. None of the rest of the world is as good. They have these wonderful armies and tanks and missiles, all working like an elegant nervous system, ready to sweep in, to do or die!"
"Yes," says an other alien, "with lots of explosions. But its kind of sad. Whenever they invade a country these days, they have to muck about with avoiding 'civilian casualties, upholding conventions, and building infrastructure. It's ridiculous, grown-up stuff. What they need is a wave of unequivocally evil baddies... like back in WWII."
"You want the U.S. to invade Italy?" the third alien comes in, just having finished a good day of snarling and creeping through underbrush.
The alien law-student couldn't help joining the argument. "No, no, no. What they need is an unquestionable moral imperative; they need to be invaded, not invade!"
"Canadians sweeping down from the border, red-coated mounties with shining battle-lances?" the group perked up their sensory tentacles at this.
But another alien, who was busily flipping through Facebook on his black-shelled, evil-looking personal computer, disagreed, "No again! You're thinking far too old-school. Lances? What rubbish: what we want is big waves of troops slamming into eachother, with rumbling armoured vehicles and lots of shots and explosions."
"That would be awesome!" all cried, "I wish I could be there to see it!" Then it got suddenly quiet.
The aliens would have stroked their beards, had they possessed any that were on their faces and not in glass jars. "What if..."
And that crystallizing moment happened. With one accord, a whole race of people gathered their spaceships together and started building. "Robot mechs that shoot orange explodey rays!" they ordered.
"Not at first, you've got to pace it. First we'll crash land in the ocean and then we'll loom up out of the see and shoot smaller and slightly less-accurate explodey things!" This suggestion was greeted with great enthusiasm.
They worked it all out. Except for how the heroic humans would win the day. "They're the underdogs, they have to win. We need some mechanism whereby their whole army combined can't beat us, but a scrappy force of rookies with big hearts can sneak in behind our lines and blow something up that will foil our invasion."
"Yes, yes!" piped in the expert roboticist, "like the droid control ship from Star Wars. Why would anybody make their whole army dependent on one computer?"
The others scoffed, "oh, don't go there. Next you'll be asking why, if we wanted to invade the U.S., we wouldn't just hang out in orbit dropping bombs until they had no more soldiers left."
The hyperspace engineer added, "or worse yet, you'll start asking why we'd even bother to invade it: what could a space-faring society possibly want to conquor the U.S. for?"
"Because it'll be exciting!" they all cried.
An alien movie-critic heard the conversation and lumbered forward, "yes, but that's not believable. What we need is some kind of nefarious motivation!"
"Let's threaten to eat their brains!" someone shouted.
"Wait, no: we might actually have to do it a few times to establish that, gross. Can you imagine how disgusting that would taste... let's just say we're going to steal their water. They always harp on and on about how much ocean they have. Like that was so special, Rigel 9 is just a big ball of it: not even any core."
"I dunno - they're worried about their ocean getting to high as it is. Do you think they'd just let us if we started sucking it all up?" There was a quick, snarled debate. But in the end, nobody wanted to be the first to put yucky human-brain in their mouth. So stealing water won the day as the motive.
As expected, the Marines were thrilled at the aliens' generosity. The aliens made a big show of flying out of dark corners, blasting around the enemy to look scary but rarely hitting anyone. They also brought in an impressive array of robots and mechs and scary machinery. And when a scrappy team of marines crawled in deep behind their lines to blow up their command ship, the aliens duly kept the tension up until the very end, forgetting that they had the big robots and explodey missiles and returning to street-to-street fighting.
All in all, the aliens put in a lot of effort, even bothering to land a few troops around other cities over the globe so that when the Marines prevailed, they saved the world and not only the U.S.
I'm sure a few months after the closing credits the aliens got bored and teleported away to put themselves back together and recount stories. "Did you see me scare that one guy? I was all like 'blarrrrg!' and I jumped from the roof down to that dumpster."
"That's nothing," another would say, "did you see me fly out of that swimming pool? That guy nearly wet his pants."
"Shot you like fifty times, though."
"Yeah, they were pretty cool. I love it when they shout 'cover your six' and 'go, go, go!' like that. It sounds so military-y."
"Yeah," he said, "maybe we should go back there and do the east coast next time!"
So the movie closes and the heroes learn to work together and never stop believing in themselves, no matter how much the odds are against them. Especially if the aliens have a sufficiently dedicated sense of drama."
Monday, March 7, 2011
Prayer
Since I’m out here as a Jesuit on a mission, if a novice still, I thought I’d take the time to speak a bit on my spiritual life. It’s funny: we can get very focused on externals that it’s easy to omit in conversation what is a fairly large piece of my mental landscapeThe presence of God permeates every detail. Not just the beauty, such as the gold and silver waterfall of rain falling through the bright sunlight but in the dull smudge of whiteboard marker on my thumb or the hum of music far away. It’s a question of whether I’m attentive to that presence.
I pray a lot about my work; I pray for inspiration and help to respond with a ‘yes’ to the plan of God in the lives of my students. I listen carefully to where they are at and where they want to be going – and I offer my perspective. But success is not having them go where I want them to be. Rather it is us journeying together to a God who leads us all beyond the scope of our personal vision.
Sometimes this really clicks. Other days, it just seems that everybody’s attention wanders to the four winds. I have learned that getting angry or frustrated by this never helps. Laughing and starting over from a fresh point of view is often the best response. Or if necessary, reminding the students firmly that this is my class and that I expect their respect and attention. The worst I’ve ever had to do is send a guy out to stand in the hall. These kids want to be here and want to learn. They just need a reminder sometimes.
Daily mass is at the small chapel in our house. It’s about the size of one of the bedrooms and has loudly buzzing fluorescent lights. There are two small, rickety old pews on either side of the room before a large altar. Upon the altar usually stands a cross made of glass and two candles.
I like to serve the altar and read the scriptures at mass; most days it ends up being me who does it. We’ve been going through the book of Sirach, in which there is a passionate plea for wisdom. Not for its own sake but as a pathway to God. It connects with something the Father General said during his time here about celebrating failures.
Wisdom comes not from treasures or power but from humble supplication before God and from desire to do justice. Thus a wise man may be materially poor but spiritually wealthy.
The Society of Jesus has had some landmark material successes: some of the finest education in the world, brilliant scholarship, and daring missionary work that built up the church in all the corners of the world.
But the General suggested that these things only have value insofar as they were undertaken to serve God. And many material failures were also undertaken to serve God as well. Ships wrecked before reaching shore, missions that began well but fizzled out. Schemes that were tried and failed. These things were also undertaken to serve God out of love and generosity of heart. People gave their all for them. And we ought to celebrate that too – regardless of whether it seemed ‘successful’. In the end, success is not something we can manufacture by our skill but is a gift from God. What we can do is give our hearts, pouring out our best with trust and care.
So that’s what I try to do.
My private prayer and meditation is also helped by the (relatively) quiet evenings. I love to sit on the porch and watch the glimmering lights of the houses on the mountains above. I might also slowly ponder the readings of the day. They mix and blend with the events of my own day, giving each a new colour.
Whenever I fuss about a problem or a fear, rarely does prayer present an intellectual solution. That often comes later. Prayer seems to put the problem in God’s context. If I am worried whether I am doing enough at work, instead of calculating my maximum possible effort, God’s presence invites me to let it go. And gradually there surfaces a desire: the desire that my attitude would be to give without counting the cost. I realize intellectually that such an attitude is hard to cultivate. And my prayer becomes a request for the gift of humility and generosity. So too with all my other attitudes, hopes, and fears.
There are down moments: feelings of being tired or feeling unable to break from habits. At these time, prayer is a blind groping. But it is far better to grope than curl up and do nothing.
And, last but not least, there are surprises. Flashes of feeling or ideas that seem to come at any time and shake me out of thinking about myself. They cause me to look outward with awe. These gift moments are sweet and refreshing. And they have a sense of ‘reality’ about them. They make me really look at the world.
I hope this little exploration helps you to see into my world as well. I pray for each of you, especially my community, my friends and family, the homeless folks I’ve met, the community and the school here, and all those who have asked me to pray for them. May blessings find you in unexpected places.
I pray a lot about my work; I pray for inspiration and help to respond with a ‘yes’ to the plan of God in the lives of my students. I listen carefully to where they are at and where they want to be going – and I offer my perspective. But success is not having them go where I want them to be. Rather it is us journeying together to a God who leads us all beyond the scope of our personal vision.
Sometimes this really clicks. Other days, it just seems that everybody’s attention wanders to the four winds. I have learned that getting angry or frustrated by this never helps. Laughing and starting over from a fresh point of view is often the best response. Or if necessary, reminding the students firmly that this is my class and that I expect their respect and attention. The worst I’ve ever had to do is send a guy out to stand in the hall. These kids want to be here and want to learn. They just need a reminder sometimes.
Daily mass is at the small chapel in our house. It’s about the size of one of the bedrooms and has loudly buzzing fluorescent lights. There are two small, rickety old pews on either side of the room before a large altar. Upon the altar usually stands a cross made of glass and two candles.
I like to serve the altar and read the scriptures at mass; most days it ends up being me who does it. We’ve been going through the book of Sirach, in which there is a passionate plea for wisdom. Not for its own sake but as a pathway to God. It connects with something the Father General said during his time here about celebrating failures.
Wisdom comes not from treasures or power but from humble supplication before God and from desire to do justice. Thus a wise man may be materially poor but spiritually wealthy.
The Society of Jesus has had some landmark material successes: some of the finest education in the world, brilliant scholarship, and daring missionary work that built up the church in all the corners of the world.
But the General suggested that these things only have value insofar as they were undertaken to serve God. And many material failures were also undertaken to serve God as well. Ships wrecked before reaching shore, missions that began well but fizzled out. Schemes that were tried and failed. These things were also undertaken to serve God out of love and generosity of heart. People gave their all for them. And we ought to celebrate that too – regardless of whether it seemed ‘successful’. In the end, success is not something we can manufacture by our skill but is a gift from God. What we can do is give our hearts, pouring out our best with trust and care.
So that’s what I try to do.
My private prayer and meditation is also helped by the (relatively) quiet evenings. I love to sit on the porch and watch the glimmering lights of the houses on the mountains above. I might also slowly ponder the readings of the day. They mix and blend with the events of my own day, giving each a new colour.
Whenever I fuss about a problem or a fear, rarely does prayer present an intellectual solution. That often comes later. Prayer seems to put the problem in God’s context. If I am worried whether I am doing enough at work, instead of calculating my maximum possible effort, God’s presence invites me to let it go. And gradually there surfaces a desire: the desire that my attitude would be to give without counting the cost. I realize intellectually that such an attitude is hard to cultivate. And my prayer becomes a request for the gift of humility and generosity. So too with all my other attitudes, hopes, and fears.
There are down moments: feelings of being tired or feeling unable to break from habits. At these time, prayer is a blind groping. But it is far better to grope than curl up and do nothing.
And, last but not least, there are surprises. Flashes of feeling or ideas that seem to come at any time and shake me out of thinking about myself. They cause me to look outward with awe. These gift moments are sweet and refreshing. And they have a sense of ‘reality’ about them. They make me really look at the world.
I hope this little exploration helps you to see into my world as well. I pray for each of you, especially my community, my friends and family, the homeless folks I’ve met, the community and the school here, and all those who have asked me to pray for them. May blessings find you in unexpected places.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Flagrant regard for the title of the blog
As our car rolls beneath the hot sun, passing from mountains to a concrete plain, I clutch tightly at the strings attached to my obligations. I have to plan a lesson. I have to remember an appointment next week. I have marking to do. But each of these is but a sign above a vast network of other duties and tasks, other strings to hold onto and remember. My fingers cramp and my muscles ache.
And as my head leans back against the seat-cushion, I relax a bit. And the Sunday Gospel floats to the surface of my mind: "Tomorrow will worry for itself. Let today's worries be enough for today."
And slowly, I let go of each string, trusting that what I can do will be enough to continue God's plan of love.
And the beach is very windy. I smile and wave my arms into the sand-blasting breeze and run into the waves. The winds pile up water into breaking crests that slam into me and wrestle me off my feet, making me float. And as I find the rhythm at which they come, I anticipate the coming waves and surge upward to meet them. For a moment I am carried, flying and weightless, back to shore by a salty, green cascade.
And as my head leans back against the seat-cushion, I relax a bit. And the Sunday Gospel floats to the surface of my mind: "Tomorrow will worry for itself. Let today's worries be enough for today."
And slowly, I let go of each string, trusting that what I can do will be enough to continue God's plan of love.
And the beach is very windy. I smile and wave my arms into the sand-blasting breeze and run into the waves. The winds pile up water into breaking crests that slam into me and wrestle me off my feet, making me float. And as I find the rhythm at which they come, I anticipate the coming waves and surge upward to meet them. For a moment I am carried, flying and weightless, back to shore by a salty, green cascade.
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