Some (more) Thoughts on Love...

- - - - - - - - - -

I've written on love and sight before.  Apparently I talk about love a lot.  As my wife is fond of saying, "Of course, love... You're all about love."  I think love is due for a comeback.  You might be thinking, "but Tyler, love never went out of style."  Yeah, but I'm not talking about the appearance of love, but rather (if I can borrow a Marxist distinction) the essence of love.  True love.  Love of the kind which St. John talks about in his first epistle.

Anyway, I have been reading G.K.Chesterton's Orthodoxy (a great read by the way), and I came across this little bit of beautiful wisdom:

"Love is not blind; that is the last thing that it is.  Love is bound; and the more it is bound the less it is blind."

My marital experience thus far tells me this is true.  I am bound in love to my dear wife.  But, I am certainly not blind to who she is.  In fact, as Chesterton points out, it was through the binding (i.e. entering into the faithful, lifelong sacrament of marriage) that I was able to remove the previous blindness which obscured her to me.   And now, having bound myself to her, my love - or better yet, our love - has brought clarity of vision to our relationship, and continues to.  It is, in fact, this binding which enables love to truly become love, rather than mere infatuation.  Don't mistake what I'm saying here, there is nothing wrong with infatuation but unless it is bound, it can never truly blossom into real love... unless it is bound, it will be forever blind.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thoughts on Prayer...

- - - - - - - - - -

It seems that, as my life transitions from one season to the next, I must rediscover prayer.  I've experienced so many seasons since I first met the One who is love incarnate.

When I was a little lad, my father used to tuck me and my siblings into bed each night.  He would say good night and we would say our prayers.  They were mostly rote prayers that we had memorized (e.g. "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep...", "Our Father who art in heaven..", etc.).

Following a religious conversion experience over a decade ago I relearned how to pray.  I took off to an evangelical bibleschool in Germany and learned about praying with others and spontaneous, unscripted prayer.

In the years that followed I learned to pray in silence, to pray with my eyes and with my ears.  I learned to pray with the church throughout the ages.  I learned to pray the prayers of other as if they were mine - I learned to make them mine.  I learned to follow the guidance of the saints and martyrs of the church as I sought communion with God.  I learned the comfort of joining the great cloud of witnesses who came before me in a prayer unceasing.

Recently, my little sacred space for prayer that I had set up in my study was removed to make room for my newborn son.  I have found myself forced to rediscover - not in a major way, but in a logistical way, which is surprisingly challenging.  I had a place reserved for kneeling and for quietude.  It was a place where I could gaze upon the face of Jesus and simply be.  It was a place where I could ask for guidance, a place where I could bare my hopes and fears.  It was a sacred space that I could easily enter into.  It was very important to me and it's gone.

These shifts (both small and large) that take place during the various seasons of life often do indeed provide cause for relearning or rediscovering prayer.  I thank my God for them, for the chances to grow and face such challenges.  Christians are called to seek the divine face, to travel the road leading to greater and deepened communion with Him.  These changes, these challenges are opportunities to travel that road.  A road traveled by the heart rather than the feet.  We do not draw near, after all, by movement in place to the one who is present everywhere, but instead by a movement of the heart and of the will - this movement is only accomplished through prayer.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thoughts on Parenting: Deo Gratias...

- - - - - - - - - -

"And what happened, then? Well, in Whoville they say - that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day.  And then - the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Grinch found the strength of *ten* Grinches, plus two! "

Last night, after we had put little Isaac to bed, my wife and I were having some relaxed adult time - watching ER and sipping on tea.  When all of a sudden, the little guy started to cry out great cries of fear and distress.  So I jumped up and headed into the dark of his room.  Though not being able to see him, I found him and gently lifted him up to my chest and reassured him, "oh, everything's okay... papa's here."  As I held his little body next to mine and his cries turned to soft whimpers, my heart almost exploded with love.

I've often been quoted as referring to love as "procreative": love grows; love spreads; love begets love.  I feel a lot like the Grinch.  I feel that fathering Isaac has caused my heart to grow.  Whereas the Grinch learned the true meaning of Christmas that day, I'm learning the true meaning of love.  Little Isaac, with his gifts of vulnerability and need, is teaching me.  Well, maybe it's more accurate to say that the Lord is teaching me through my care of, and relationship with, Isaac.  Nonetheless, I believe that my capacity for love - both in giving and receiving - is indeed growing.  When I met my wife and our relationship grew, I knew that I was in for a lifelong encounter with love.  I knew that my life was heading in a direction of the Divine, that love was to be the lesson I was to learn.  Isaac's arrival into our life has only confirmed that belief.  His arrival is a part of this journey of sanctification that we are on together.

Indeed, what a beautiful responsibility it is to be the parents of this guy - to be the ones who can provide comfort, reassurance, love, care, and tired arms to hold him when he is fussy or fearful.

My short experience thus far in parenting has also further confirmed one other truth: love and fidelity are inseparable.  To the extent that I have an unwavering fidelity to another - be it my lovely wife, or my little child - I am also able to grow in love with and for that person.  And the more that divine gift of love grows, the more unwavering my fidelity becomes.  I remember holding our fussy little newborn at all hours through the day and night.  Often as I held him and comforted him I would sing quietly a line from a song that I had heard on the radio: "I won't turn and walk away / you can count on me, you can count on me."  There is a beauty in that promise, a promise that I made to my wife on our wedding day, a promise that was made to our son on the day of his birth.

Isaac is sleeping now.  He is a picture of beauty, asleep in his crib.  I look at him with awe and wonder.  What a marvelous creation he is.  What a marvelous gift.

Words fail me when I look at him, when I hold him.  All I can say is: Deo Gratias (Thanks be to God)!

- - - - - - - - - -

Thoughts on What the Future Might Hold...

- - - - - - - - - -

It is a sad day for Canadians: Prime Minister Harper and his Conservatives Party's Omnibus Crime Bill C-10 (An Act to enact the Justice for Victims of Terrorism Act and to amend the State Immunity Act, the Criminal Code, the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act, the Corrections and Conditional Release Act, the Youth Criminal Justice Act, the Immigration and Refugee Protection Act and other Acts) is law.  It was passed by Parliament yesterday and given Royal Assent this afternoon.

I wonder what kind of Canada my son will grow up in.  I watch what has been taking place in Canadian politics and I worry.  How long will it take for the generations to come to undo the damage that the current government seems intent to wreak upon our country?  They seem determined to destroy the environment, to increase economic disparity, and to promote crime and incarceration.  I worry about what kind of country my son will inherit.

I'm not normally in the habit of praying for our nation (though it's a good practice).  I'm beginning to think that I ought to be.

Ruler supreme, who hearest humble prayer,

Hold our Dominion in thy loving care;

Help us to find, O God, in thee

A lasting, rich reward,

As waiting for the better Day,

We ever stand on guard.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thoughts on Fatherhood: Pleasantly Suprised

- - - - - - - - - -

I have long looked forward to fatherhood.  I imagined myself spending time with my son or daughter, teaching him/her about life, love, and the mystery of God.  I imagined myself answering questions about the world we live in.  I imagined myself taking him/her out to explore the wonders of creation on little journeys of discovery.  I knew that to get to that point I would have to have a newborn child.  I knew that there would be nights of crying, piles of dirty diapers, and all the like.  What I never expected is that I would so love having a newborn.  I never expected to appreciate the opportunity to hold and console an over-tired little boy.  I never expected to jump at the opportunity to change a diaper or give a bath.  I never imagined that I would wish for nothing more in my afternoon than to sit with my son and trade faces and sounds with him.  I never imagined that a little child with nothing to offer but need would have so much to share with me, would elicit so much love. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Thoughts on the Paths we Choose (and those we do not choose)...

- - - - - - - - - -

I was sitting in class this morning and one of my classmates showed me a picture of his girlfriend.  She is currently working on her Ph.D. somewhere back East right now.  It turns out that she graduated with her Bachelor's degree from the same University as me, the same year as me.

I was suddenly struck with emotion.  Here I was sitting in a first year Sociology class at a community college (technically an University, but really...) and this woman who had graduated the same time as me was working on finishing up her Ph.D.  I had been planning on taking that path before changing plans completely.  I think what I felt was a sense of loss.

I was a little bit conflicted.  I felt a sense of loss for what could have been... but I love where I am and wouldn't trade it for the world.

After a moment, I let it pass.  I would gladly take the wonderful reality that I have right now (with dirty diapers, loss of sleep, and all the rest) over a thousand potentials that might have been.  Nonetheless, we often struggle to come to terms with our past expectations when compared with the path we have chosen and where we currently find ourselves.  If only for a moment, I inwardly lamented the 'loss'.  Just for a moment... then I thought, "screw it! I'm heading home to my beautiful wife and son".  Indeed, I have suffered no loss, only wonderful, unexpected gain.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Gratias Deo

- - - - - - - - - -

Eucharistic Reflections: Thoughts on this Christian Walk...

- - - - - - - - - -

It is one of my favourite times of the week.  I sit there and watch them make their way up to the front.  I see a son kneel down beside his mother; I see an elderly couple slowly make their way up together; couples, families, widows and widowers all walking up to the altar.  I see the tangible sign of our grace and redemption being received with open arms and grateful hearts.  Today as I watched an elderly woman with a cane being helped up to the communion rail it struck me that this is a clear reminder of how the Christian lives.  Sure, there those who will advocate for an individual faith, one centered on the autonomous choice of each person, but this is not how we live.  I carried my little newborn son up to the altar to receive a blessing from the priest.  Not long from now he will be baptized, welcomed into the community faith and joining in the journey with a whole host of witnesses who have walked the path before him.  We can pretend that we walk through this life by our own strength, that we make choices based apart from those around us, but this is not the faith tradition that I am a part of.  Isaac, my son, is carried to the altar to receive grace; when he is old enough, he will walk beside me; one day, God willing, he might hold his arm out to assist his elderly father as I struggle with cane in hand to the altar.  For now, my dear wife and I will carry him as we go to share in the Eucharist.  This is an honour beyond description.

I consider it such a blessing to share in the central Christian celebration with those in my church.  I am thankful for the grace we receive in the Wine and the Bread.  I am humbled by the reminder I receive every week that I do not walk through this life alone: to be a Christian is to be a part of a glorious community of those who have come before, those who have walked beside others, been carried by others, and carried others on this great journey.

For all those saints who have come before, for all those future saints who walk beside me... I give thanks to God.

- - - - - - - - - -