Brother Blue

This weekend we were at an event which had high school students from all over the US and Mexico. Like most events we do, there was a dance. A dance at one of these events is the prefect storm for a teenage boy. You are in an environment where you have been meeting new people all weekend, everyone is there by choice, and you are never going to see most of these people again. For an insecure boy, life couldn’t get better. It is still a horrifying experience to ask someone to dance, but it is the best it can be.
With this context, this is a story that was told to me moments after it happened. One of the adults was trying to encourage one of their less graceful young me to go dance. He hymned and ha-ed for a moment and then said, “I am employing dance avoidance strategy number three: talk to a chaperone.”

The mythology (and maybe reality) of America is it is a country in which you can do and be anything you want. If you put in the time, sacrifice, work, effort, and sweet you can live any dream. There is a whole industry of motivation and self-help built around this. I have even contributed to the cannon (with two more books on the way). One thing I find interesting in most of these writings is it treats chasing dreams in a vacuum. It is as if when we chase some dream or work towards a goal the rest of our life is put on hold. Our life does not impact the pursuit and the pursuit does not effect our lives. This makes for better copy and easier planning, but it just isn’t a reality.
It is very simple. I could be a world-class (insert anything here) juggler if I only gave juggling eight hours of time everyday for the next 18 months. Is it possible to do this? Yes. Likely? No. In that time I am going to get sick, and going need to spend time with friends and family. I might need to work to pay the bills and occasionally sleep. That doesn’t even bring in to account for the fact that there are going to be people in my life who are (with good intentions, rooted in love) tell me I have lost my mind. They are going to encourage, cajole, and push me to quit for something more sensible.
The self-help and motivational hoard (which I am a part of) will tell you, “Your dream is more important. It is your true calling. It is something you must follow.” That might be true, but that doesn’t mean it is easy.
Often times when we are faced with a dream we are given the option betray ourselves or betray the world. If you follow your soul (sometimes) it requires you to walk a way from cultural success and if you follow the world you betray what your soul longs for. Both are heavy burdens. Very different burdens, but burdens none the less.
There is pain in turning your back on what world defines as success. By doing so, you make yourself a constant outsider. Your perspective is different. You experience is uncommon. You are alone in a full room.
There is pain in turning your back on your soul. You fit in to the world, but are doing so as an impostor. You are doing nothing but playing a part in an elaborate costume ball. You fit in, but are hallow.
The choice isn’t always this crisp, one v the other. But, sometimes it is. Choice isn’t easy. Creating who we want to be has struggle in it. In some way, know that it is going to have struggle, makes it easier to accept that struggle. I may struggle, but it is okay because I am not alone.

Growing up in Wyoming, I created a list in my head of bands I wanted to see someday. Bands that I just had to see. Many of them I have seen. Most of them past their heyday, but a good time none the less.
I made it to see The Ramones, The Violent Fems, RUN DMC, Elvis Costello, and John Wesley Harding. I never saw John Lydon in any of his incarnation, but I did meet him at a book signing. I heard Henry Rollins speak, but never sing live. I made it to see U2, The Dead Milkmen, Ministry, and REM. Never saw Kid n Play or Paul Simon.
From time to time I will go to the web sites of musicians and comedians I like to see when they are going to be in the area. If they are close I add them to my calendar and depending on what life looks like I make it. I was doing this a few days ago and was shocked to find this note on Mitch Hedberg’s (one of my favorite stand up comedians) web site:
“We are heartbroken to let you know that Mitch passed away on Wednesday, March 30, 2005. He dedicated his life to comedy and bringing joy to his fans. Mitch loved all of you.”
Someone I will never cross off my list of being able to see, but that is nothing in comparison to the tragedy of losing such a brilliant (funny) person form this world.

A few weeks ago Fr. Patrick Smith made I point that I have never thought of, but should be obvious. It was the weekend of the first communion of the second graders in the parish. At the 12:15 mass he was recapping what had happen at the 10am mass. He was sharing his thoughts for the kids as well as thier thoughts when he was asking them questions about what they were about to do.
For our sake, he pointed out something very simple, but powerful. He talked about how the kids (and us) had to come forward to receive the sacrament. It was a choice and action they had to take. The graces was poured out on the cross and in the sacrament, but it wasn’t until someone chose to walk forward and chose to accept it did it make a difference in their life.
It is a point that is so simple I know I miss it all the time. I think of all the prayers I have offered in my life asking for this and that. When they are not answered the way I want them I chalk it up either to God has bigger things to worry about or I am just asking for the wrong thing (or asking in the wrong way). Act as if the only thing I need to do is cast the request out in the universe and the celestial wait staff will bring it to when I am sitting when it is ready.
I know in my own life I miss the fact that grace and giftedness is all ready there. I simply chose not to do anything about it. I am surrounded by riches and I just don’t choose to accept them into my life. I simply want stuff to be done for me, which I know isn’t what is best for me, or in the long run what I would really want.
Today’s pray: Lord give me eyes to see the grase and gifts that are present in my life.

Yesterday I saw the movie Paper Clips. Going into the movie, I knew basic premises. The movie beings with a voice over reading a letter sent to the students at Whitwell Middle School (Go Tigers!) in Whitwell, TN. From the third sentence of the letter until the end of the movie I cried.
The movie is a document about a project the middle school students in Whitwell took part in. Whitwell is a small (abandon) coalmine town in TN. The population is 1600. Almost everyone is white protestant. There are 6 non-whites in the middle school. No Jews. No Catholics. The principal was concerned that her students were not being exposed to diversity issues. She sent the assistant principal to a conference to see if there was a project the school could do to address this concern. He came home thinking doing a study of the Holocaust would a good topic. They could study a culture they knew nothing about as well as study evil in the world and how to respond to it.
The Holocaust Project was born. It was an extra curricular activity. The students didn’t have to take part, but instead joined. The first year the teachers didn’t know much more than the student. They read as much as they could and shared their knew knowledge with the students.
One day in the second year of the project one of the students asked, in response to hearing 6 millions Jews were killed, “How many is 6 million. I have never seen 6 million of anything.” The teacher responded, “Well, I don’t know. I haven’t seen 6 million either.” He told the class if they could come up with something to collect, they could try and get 6 million of them to see.
After doing a little research, the students found the paper clip. The paper clip was invented in Norway. During the WWII Norwegians wore paper clips on their collars as a sign of protest against the Nazis and in support of the plight of the Jews. The rest of the movie is about the school journey to collect 6 million paper clips. Along the way they meet holocaust survivors and change many peoples lives in big and small ways. The movie is worth seeing. It shows so powerfully how we have so much more in common with our common man than we choose to realize on a daily basis. I know I am going to drive down to see the monument the built this summer.
On the drive home I found myself meditating on this message of how much we truly are one people and that we are responsible for each other. As the thoughts rolled around in my head I was able to finally crystallize something that has been weighing on my soul.
Over the last few weeks my heart has really ached in the selection of the new Pope. The ache has nothing to do with the passing of John Paul (which was sad) or over the selection of Benedict. I have come to realize that I have nothing thoughtful to say about the former pontiff or the selection of the new one. [Anything I say about Benedict is nothing more than parroting something I have heard someone say. The only thing I can say definitively is he looks good in white.] I am so far away for all of that. The pain I have felt has come from all the discussion about who has passed and who is to come next. There have been so many divisive conversations about beliefs and what MUST happen next.
In no way to I want to minimize the role of the Pope. The pontific of John Paul showed how powerfully the position can be used for good in the church and in the world. I also don’t want to minimize the theological discussion over the state of the church and how the new pontiff needs to respond to that. It is import to ask big questions about our belief system and how that is lived out in the world.
More than once in the last month have I been caught up in these conversations. With great energy on my part I might add. But for what good?
I recently heard an interview with a religious scholar who has studied and written on all the major religions of the world. When asked about her own beliefs she said something like, “The merit of any religion can be judged on it practical application of compassion in the world.” I like that a lot.
My soul is heavy because took a group of middle school kids with 26 million paper clips to point out that right now there is real suffering in the world. People are sick and dieing and disenfranchised and hungry and lonely. Not just people in the world, but people in my community. My faith life in some many ways has become an intellectual exercise, not a life style.
It brings me back to what my friend Jerry said while leading a retreat in December: It is easy to do what Jesus would do when you are not where Jesus would be.

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