faith

‘He Makes Me Lie Down in Green Pastures’

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

Last weekend we laid my dad to rest. When it came to death, Dad was a practical man: He wasn’t religious himself, and he didn’t want us to spend a lot of money or effort on a funeral. Sorting through his preferences and our own beliefs wasn’t completely straightforward, but I believe Mom managed admirably.

In Dad’s final months, he had shared with her that Psalm 23 was a favorite passage that his Little Grandma used to read to him when he was little. We all prayed it over him, and for him, many times during the final weeks of his life. During the burial, the line that stuck out most to me was, “He makes me lie down in green pastures.”

I believe the Lord has shepherded Dad, and all of us, well these past months.

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Sound and Silence, or Surviving Spiritual Whiplash

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

On Thursday, I attended a day-long silent retreat with the rest of the staff from our Catholic church and school. Father Park opened the retreat with the Old Testament account of Elijah in the cave on Mount Sinai, waiting for the Lord to pass by:

And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.

– 1 Kings 19:11-13 (RSVCE)

It was a scriptural reminder that God speaks to us in silence, but I didn’t need convincing. For the past several years I’ve tried to make an annual, three-day silent retreat to reconnect with the Lord and re-examine what He is doing in my life. I find great solace in the silence. I feel Him near, and if I work at quieting my head and heart, I hear that still, small voice.

Thursday was no exception. After the longest three months of my life, comprising…

  • the arrangement of in-home care and support for my dad and mom, respectively,
  • followed by Christmas with most of the kids and a trip to Italy to visit the rest in December;
  • Dad’s rapid decline and death in January;
  • three trips to Michigan and back (one flying; two driving);
  • a surgery for my bride;
  • and a mad scramble to keep up with work in between

…even a few hours of silence were, to me, like a soft, steady rain on parched earth. I could feel my heart expand to fill the hollow between my lungs. Slowly, tentatively at first, it stirred to life and began to beat again. I spent two fruitful hours in silent reflection. I prayed a rosary while picking my way through the ruins of the frozen lakefront outside the retreat center. I spent a restful half-hour before the Blessed Sacrament—so peaceful, in fact, that I fell into a deep and silent slumber.[1] When the priests intoned the Tantum Ergo, I suddenly and unexpectedly levitated.

At the end of the afternoon, Father asked us to share a little bit about our retreat experience. When the mic came to me, I said, “I lost my dad recently. It was good to spend a day with my Heavenly Father, and with our Mother in Heaven, while I try to care for my mother on earth. I like silence and try to make a silent retreat every year. I missed it this year, so even this short retreat was a blessing—now I get to take three middle-school girls to the Toby Mac concert!”

Nearly everyone laughed.

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MELEE! The Necessity of Close-Combat Evangelization to Secure the Kingdom

/ J. Thorp / 3 Comments
Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart. No creature is concealed from him, but everything is naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must render an account. – Hebrews 4:12-13
 

As much as I was impressed with the high-tech precision of the Navy SEALS portrayed in Act of Valor—and moved by their sacrifice for our country—I am generally more deeply affected by portrayals of the blunt savagery of older wars. I can marvel at the mathematical elegance of a sniper kill from a mile or more distant, until I recall James Michener’s account of a Polish peasant walking to meet armored and mounted invaders, carrying a length of ash wood he had induced to grow snugly around a few pieces of jagged flint, forming a homemade mace. The time required to grow your own weapon might be long enough to steel yourself to bludgeon an armored man to death, and another, and another. It seems to me that a man who would kill in this way must have the courage of his convictions. There is no hope of distance or anonymity; he must be willing to look his enemy in the eye and get his hands dirty.

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Three recent experiences inspired this essay. [Blogger’s Note: This essay was written in 2012, to be read and critiqued in a men’s group.] The first was the continuation of a friendly debate regarding the best way to engage and challenge non-believers (here and here), in which a friend of mine indicated that the older he gets, the more he feels that polite arguments and sustained discussions are not worth his time. The second was an unexpectedly difficult Lenten struggle to hold my tongue, and the third was a men’s group’s opposition to the Health and Human Services (HHS) mandate. All three of these experiences have in common the issue of when and how we should engage those who think, feel, or believe differently than we do.

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Learning to Receive

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

The other day, a friend stopped by to tell me about a tremendous and totally unexpected blessing for him and his family—a potentially life-changing opportunity, the culmination of months of surrender, trust, and striving to God’s will even when it didn’t seem to make sense.

The opportunity was so good, in fact, that it was hard to look at it squarely and accept that it wasn’t a mirage. If this was God’s plan all along, what was the purpose of roundabout way in which it had come about?

We talked about several possible reasons for his long and circuitous journey, then I said, “Maybe it’s not fruitful to try to figure out in hindsight what God was doing. You and your bride discerned well at the time; maybe now is just the time to say, ‘Thank you, Jesus.’”

He laughed and shook his head: “That seems like good advice.”

It does. Maybe I should take it myself.

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In Big and Small Ways, Hope Prevails

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

In recent months it has become apparent that I am a Worrier. Everyone has concerns, and sometimes those concerns get the better of us—but I actively pursue potential problems no matter how unlikely they may be, then chew and chew and chew on them.

I try to pass it off as a strength—foresight leads to preparation, which benefits my whole family. But the truth is less noble: Mostly, I just don’t want to appear late, ill-equipped, or foolish. Despite my best efforts, I am still trying to measure up. But to whose standard?

Jesus warns us against worry:

“So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’ or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’ All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom [of God] and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil.”

Matthew 6:31-34

The saints also warn us:

“Anxiety is the greatest evil that can befall a soul, except sin. God commands you to pray, but He forbids you to worry.”

St. Francis de Sales

“Let nothing perturb you, nothing frighten you. All things pass. God does not change. Patience achieves everything.”

St. Teresa of Avila

“Pray, hope, and do not worry.”

St. Padre Pio

I know this, and yet I persist in losing time and sleep, humor and hair, while fretting about the future and all its possibilities and challenges.

In the past several weeks, God has been working on this aspect of my conversion, especially in two areas of our marriage in which I am not only likely to worry but also to drive my bride nuts: travel and money.

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