Props to the Catholics

There has been so much on my mind lately... stuff I would love to fling out onto this blog, like a pulpit for my outrage on various issues. But alas, I have decided to share some positive words instead. Positive words that is, about my Catholic brothers and sisters.

I was raised Catholic. I made my First Holy Communion and participated in the Eucharist. Every Sunday my grandfather and I sat at the back of the church playing 25 games of tic tac toe on the bulletin (insert grandma's disapproving looks here). To be honest I was super bored. It's only recently I have begun to understand the significance of these early spiritually formative years. There was so much I didn't understand. There was so much that went over my head. But I learned that God was present and that Jesus was amazing... the ground of my heart was prepared for my future salvation.

People dump truck loads of criticism on this Church. I have hurled my own judgement on the institution in years past. And yes, some of it is deserved. I have no intention of puffing up the Catholic Church as if it were a poor misunderstood martyr, the victim of bad press. Yet, in the big picture Catholics have contributed a rich quality of Saints to this world. Two of whom God used to help inspire me to keep enduring with Him in the midst of extremely difficult times. Mother Teresa and Saint John of the Cross are individuals whose marks on the world will surely live on, comforting and inspiring others for decades to come. There are also devoted Catholics continuing in the foot steps of these spiritual giants that have impacted me.

In college I spent a lot of time with Benedictine Monks. They graciously allowed me to sit with them during lunches that were eaten silently. From the front a monk would read an excerpt from a book. I found one of these excerpts especially interesting. If my memory serves me correctly the reading was a critique of protestantism. I must say it was a fair and gracious critique and deeply challenged my perception of the protestant reformation. The basic idea framed the pre-reformational church as a group of individuals in a sense "married". The reading portrayed protestants as the discontent spouse who refused to "work it out" and instead chose divorce. The article went on to propose that this may be why there are so many divisions and factions in the protestant church to this day. Perhaps the mentality is, if you don't like your church then leave and make your own or try on another. The challenge of the article was clearly pressing on a weak spot in protestantism, an inability to suffer through disagreements with community in tact.

Before my protestant friends get too frustrated with me, let me explain further. I'm not suggesting that Luther was wrong to launch a reformation. I think he was right to do so in light of the corruption that soaked the church during that time in history. In an ideal world the pope would have seen Luther as a prophet calling his church to repent, but that's all said and done now.

My real message here is that we protestants have missed out on some beautiful teaching, examples, mentorship and fellowship with our Catholic brothers and sisters because of the anti-catholic propaganda we read. I challenge you to ask a priest if he worships Mary and prays to idols. I challenge you to do a google search of convents in your area and ask a nun why she confesses to a priest. I have been blessed to have opportunities like these and I have gotten some very reassuring answers. Part of the problem is that we read biased regurgitated materials rather than discussing differences and misunderstandings in person with devoted catholics, or least researching the topic for ourselves from the original sources.

Granted, there are some very legitimate differences between the two sects but none that I believe should keep us far removed from one another. As protestants we are missing out on thousands of years of wisdom and wise counsel from a whole section of the body of Christ because we think we know what they believe. A whole new world of understanding was opened to me in an extremely vulnerable time of my faith because I softened my heart to Catholic authors such as Henri Nouwen. My hope is that this post will encourage those who feel stale in their faith to dare to look at Jesus afresh. Another perspective may open up a whole new world of spiritual growth.

Chase n the Weeks'

Josiah's first slow dance with little Emmy Weeks.

These guys are such cute little friends. They fight like brother's and sisters, or is that cats and dogs? Anyways, there's a lot more love floating around any way ya slice it... bunch a sweeties! Just some summer sprinkler time.

Rose's pig tails fell out but it's so funny how her hair held its shape... and that famous smile!

Another strangely gloomy summer day. Rose doesn't seem to mind though.

A Little Video

Losing My Religion: Phase 3 It Was A Good Death

(Important: This is the third entry of a three part article. I recommend going back to the first phase of the series found in this blog for the sake of understanding the context. Thanks.)

Well, hopefully I haven't scared you all off with my intensity. I realize this whole "Losing My Religion" section is very heavy and may even sound depressing to some. But for me it is a story of immense hope. It is my proof that God has amazing 'keeping' power. It reminds me that all the friends I've seen walk away from their faith are being pursued by the same Person who was able to anchor me in my storms.


With that hope in mind I feel more capable of sharing my dying process. One purpose of my long winter was to kill off immaturity, in other words, it was a purification process. Bare with me for a quick side note. Regarding immaturity, I'm not convinced that it can be considered inherently wrong in every situation. A five year old will be immature. It's just the nature of being a child. In the same way, our own spiritual immaturity is to be expected. Immaturity is only dysfunctional if we never grow past our various child like expectations. To keep the faith and innocence of a child is a beautiful thing, but to remain needy and naive like a toddler is just sad.

When I first became a Christian I was soaked with emotional rewards for choosing Jesus. I could easily compare it to the euphoria associated with alcohol or drugs. Since I had just left the party scene I think God allowed similar feelings of euphoria because He knew as a young Christian I would need a lot of emotional motivation to keep me close. As incredibly corny as it sounds I really felt 'high' on Jesus, weird. When those feelings were withdrawn I was beside myself with grief. This was God weaning me from the bottle. He could have allowed me to keep those amazing feelings for the rest of my life, and He does allow some. But for me, this was milk. It was time for move on to solid food. (Hebrews 5:12)


In a recent Bible Study we studied the story of Joseph. If you're not familiar with the story you should go read it in the book of Genesis or else this next part may not make sense. I picture my Dark Night something like the image I envision when Joseph's brothers sell him off to be a slave. God allowed him to be tossed deep into a dark pit so that Joseph "the mommas boy" could die and "Joseph the man" could emerge. I picture myself taking that same death dive deep into real spiritual transformation. Jesus says it best in John 12:24, I tell you the truth, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies it remains alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

My Dark Night began in 1998 and a very slow dawn has been sneaking up on me since the birth of my son Josiah in December of 2006. Now, in retrospect, I can look back at the past four years and see that His light has been warming me and luring me from a cowering posture back to a safe, open faced rest. I can look back and say, I suffered real spiritual torment. But I cannot say I am scarred from the process. On the contrary, I am healed.







p.s. There are few things comparable to the "Dark Night of the Soul". If you are going through something like this there is a book out there with this very title by an old sixteenth century Catholic Spanish mystic named St. John of the Cross. The book was one of the few life lines I had and I highly recommend it, be careful to get a good translation though. If you are in a season like this be encouraged, you are in good company. It's just proof that He is committed to maturing you.

Some Adorables

Uh, hello corny GAP commercial pic, it's still so cute though... shouldn't there be a bat involved with this situation. Where's the props guy when you need him!

I'll eat you up I love you so...

Josiah conquers the Grand Canyon!

Rosie's first smoke with her proud daddy

that face says it all!

Losing My Religion: Phase 2 Waiting is Hard

http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbG4KwjPEdE (This link is a perfect picture of what I believe God was trying to teach in me in my "Dark Night").

If you're just joining the conversation it would be a good idea to go back and read the blog before this for the sake of context, for the rest of us, I'll just jump right in.

In phase 1 of Losing My Religion I realized that God orchestrated the seasons of my life and that I could not often control my spiritual climate. The hardest part about all this for me was the waiting! My dry season lasted for more than eight years! Keep in mind that throughout all this I was still very active in ministry. I taught Bible studies, I co-lead a women's ministry, I was a missionary and I helped to plant a church. I did all this feeling about as much emotional connection to God as I felt towards a stranger on the street. I was tormented by thoughts that Christianity was a a big lie and I was the sucker that got dooped. At times I entertained ideas of divorcing my faith all together but, strangely, it was these thoughts that tethered me back in to God. The thought of leaving Him somehow tugged at a deep part of my heart that was irreversibly welded to Christ. Even though I felt incredibly far removed from Him the thought of abandoning my faith only proved to me that He was real and He was closer than I thought. My thoughts of apostasy, for some reason, evoked an even deeper sense of loyalty to Jesus. But the waiting was killing me! I wanted to know why my "Dark Night" was so long and why it hurt so much. I wanted to know the reason for it.

Sometimes the long wait proved to be too much for me and my sense of hope would run out. It was during these times that I wondered if I was a Christian at all. I thought that maybe I was destined for hell and that's why God was ignoring me. Again, it was in the lowest place that I learned the greatest lesson. I remember thinking "Even if I burn in hell for eternity it is still worth it to live my life for God". I realized then, at that moment, that I belonged to Him. He was stuck with me for good and better than that, He actually did love me. It was that love that tethered me in my many weak moments, and it's why I can understand, if only a little, Jobs statement "Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him". Part of the reason for my dark night was to begin to kill me. That is, to kill the parts of me that kept me from offering deep compassion to others, yet expecting comfort and consolation from God for myself. I am still very much in this process and still have a loooooong way to go. I have so many more thoughts on the subject, but I'll share this for now and hope you join me for phase 3 of Losing My Religion to be completed at some other insomniatic hour in the future. Peace. One last word though...

...a quick commercial for my favorite nun because her example helped me through this tough time!

If ever tempted to pity myself I think of Mother Teresa. She experienced her "Dark Night of the Soul" for forty years! This woman spent those years serving the poorest of the poor, the sickest of the sick all with no sense of God's presence sustaining her. She writes in her journals of deep loneliness and aching for God's comfort in her life. As far as I know in what her journals record, she died with this feeling of emptiness. What amazing loyalty and devotion to God. Most others would've abandoned their posts or worse in the face of this kind of pain. But Mother Teresa waited, she waited and suffered loneliness and deep sadness. It has been said that God never wastes a tear and that all of our pain will be used for good in the end. I believe Mother Teresa is in heaven today reaping all the rewards of her loyalty. Glory to God.

Losing My Religion: Phase 1 I Can't Fix It

My faith journey began a lot more like a love story than a conversion. I'd say I quite literally fell in love with God as a new Christian. I felt His comfort, direction and care in a way that rivaled that of any tangible person in my life. From the day I was reborn God surrounded me with mentors, friends and family that all pushed me closer and closer to my new Divine Friend. The thrill I got from partying couldn't compare with Who I found to take it's place, so I happily dropped it. After high school I went on to attend Bible College because I knew that as a new Christian I would need an environment that would support my choice to follow God. I feared that without this support I would forget Christianity or worse, lose the new Love of my life. Neither of these fears were realized, but a crisis was waiting just outside the reach of my foresight.
I remember it so distinctly, like a switch was shut off in the heavens and the feeling of God's presence was gone. The intensity of the emptiness and sense of abandonment I felt at that time is difficult for me to describe. Let's just say I was overcome with disillusionment. I went to various church leaders for help and spiritual guidance. They all told me the same thing, "You must be in sin". Maybe they were mentored by Jobs friend Bildad in Chapter 18 ;) . I readily accepted this explanation and begged God to show me what I was doing wrong, so I could repent. Thus began the witch hunt for my mystery sin. I played the guessing game with God, like a pathetic game of charades. "Sounds like..., am I getting warmer?" This went on for about three years until I became frustrated with God. I was desperately trying to repent of whatever it was that caused Him to withdraw the sense of His presence. I began to see God as an aloof mocker of my efforts to love, honor and seek Him. I didn't realize that in trying to discover my secret sin I had committed a much worse error, I was really trying to "God" myself. I somehow thought that self-hatred, self condemnation and a merciless self examination would get me back into the Lord's good graces. With a deep sense of grief I can clearly see I was wrong. I finally came to the conclusion that the wild goose could not be caught. There was no habitual, willful sin in my life that God had clearly asked me to turn from. There were plenty of imperfections, mistakes and ways I fell short, as there still are, believe me! But I could have sworn that's what Jesus died for, willful sinning included! On this earth we will always live with shortcomings and flaws. Then the light bulb turned on. IT WASN'T MY FAULT!
Within a week of my light bulb moment I gained a deeper insight into what it was that was happening to me. I saw a picture of a tree in the winter. There was a clouded sky in the background giving only that special kind of glow that an overcast day can give. The silhouette of the dead looking tree, strangely, gave me a deep sense of hope. We all go through seasons. We cannot control the seasons, they are in the hand of God alone. The tree couldn't help that it was winter. It just was. The tree couldn't make the sun come out, or grow leaves. All it could do was wait. All I could do was wait. Anyone out there a fan of waiting? My spiritual winter had little to do with me and my performance, but everything to do with God's plan to prune and mature me. This realization helped to correct my anger and confusion at Him. I knew my emptiness had a purpose and I believe it was this sense of purpose that empowered me to wait another five years, when my long winter finally started to show signs of letting up...
There will be more to come in my story of losing my religion and for the sake of clarity, I am referring to the type of religion that is an ugly contradiction of true spirituality. That is, the religion that demands to be in control and dominate through performance, laying guilt trips on its disciples. I look forward to sharing more of this story with you. My winter season created a depth of compassion for others and loyalty to God that I am sure I wouldn't have learned without it. Phase 2 of this story will come another day. I know there is a handful of people who keep up with this blog. Love you guys.