gratitude

Grace By Association

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

It’s a blue Sunday.

Yesterday our youngest son, Trevor, graduated from Saint John Vianney College Seminary and the University of St. Thomas—summa cum laude, with degrees in philosophy and Catholic studies. We drove into the Twin Cities for the ceremony (a commute I made daily for work for more than a decade and we used to make regularly as a family for martial arts classes, concerts, and more). We went to Cecil’s Deli, one of Trevor’s favorite places, for a late lunch and then packed up his dorm. He said goodbye to his brother seminarians—a group of great young men from several dioceses with whom he has lived, laughed, learned, and prayed for the past four years. (Can it have been four years?). Then, we headed home.

Last night we were up late while Trevor sorted his belongings into three groupings: stuff he needs this summer, stuff to get rid of, and stuff to bring with us to North Dakota when we move. We had breakfast after Mass this morning; he wrote some thank-yous and checked the oil on our reliable blue Elantra—and at about 12:15 PM, he left the only home he’s ever known, likely for the last time.

It’s been a whirlwind week or so. Our older daughter Emma was married a week ago yesterday and moved to Sioux City with her husband Isaac, leaving the only house she remembers. (She was a baby when we arrived here.) Our older sons, Brendan and Brother Jude, along with Brendan’s family, were here for the wedding. Last time the family will gather here, our home for 23 years…

Thank you, Lord, for Lily. We’re not ready to be alone in this!

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Final Column: Farewell to Our Spiritual Home

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

In 2003, when Jodi and I decided to move to Minnesota, I was media relations manager for Ferris State University in Michigan. We were in our twenties, both working, with three preschoolers in daycare and living five miles or so from my folks.

As I prepared to leave that role, a colleague a few years older than me gave me a set of nice pens inscribed with my name and three C words that he felt described me. I don’t recall the first two, but the last one was “Courage”—that one I remember because I thought it strange at the time. We were young and in love; I had just landed a great-paying job with a marketing firm in Minneapolis, and we had family in the Twin Cities area. What was so brave about it?

Now, preparing to move to Bismarck in our fifties, I know better. It is hard to leave the familiar, the comfortable, the secure—the blessings of a community that has been our haven for nearly half our lives, and the only home most of our five children can recall.

We are trying to be brave. It is not easy.

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Don’t Get Comfortable

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I have a longer piece to write at some point, about how St. Michael has been a spiritual home for me and my family—Ground Zero for my thorough reversion to the Catholic faith and our conversion to an authentically Catholic understanding of marriage and sexuality, not to mention the garden in which my children grew strong in faith and began to first bear fruit for the Kingdom.

I could write a book. Maybe I should someday. But today, it’s just a column on what’s next for me and my family.

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Wednesday Witness: Fasting Well, Feasting Well

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

On Easter Sunday, we were blessed to talk with Brother Jude. Brother Jude is our second son, Gabe, who is now a novice with the Community of Franciscan Friars of the Renewal (CFRs) in Newark, New Jersey.

From the outside, the novitiate year seems very focused on spiritual growth, detachment, and obedience. Aside from occasional letters, Brother Jude’s contact with his immediate family is strictly limited and with everyone else, non-existent. He spends a great deal of time in prayer and formation, and he does very little without first getting permission from his superiors. This was our first conversation since Christmas and our last until Jodi’s birthday in July.

As you can imagine, it was good to hear his voice. He seems very recollected and peaceful, and I told him so.

“I am, most of the time,” he said. “At least, I try to be.”

We catch each other up on the news and our Easter celebration, then I ask him about his Lent. Our impression last year, when he was a postulant, was that the friars observe a fairly stringent fast during Lent and Advent, which he was not subject to at that time.

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Book Break: Happy Are You Poor

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For the past 20+ years, I’ve noticed several strange phenomena nearly every time a conversation turns to what the gospel says about material wealth and spiritual poverty:

  • Friendly conversations turn defensive: “We don’t have that much; so-and-so has X, and vacations every year in Y.”
  • Faithful Catholics attempt to justify themselves: “If you include Catholic school tuition, we give 10 percent like the Bible says—and we serve in other ways too!”
  • Straightforward moralists become subtle and nuanced: “What ‘poor in spirit’ actually means is…’”

And, in some cases, actual spiritual deafness occurs: I was in a conversation once in which I admitted my own struggles in this area and said I felt I needed to do more to actually love my neighbor from my own resources. A friend followed my remarks with, “It’s like Jim says…” and proceeded to relate the exact opposite message.

Father Thomas Dubay’s book Happy Are You Poor was written to combat these phenomena with clear teaching from the Gospels and the rest of sacred Scripture, edification offered by various popes and councils, and the lives of the saints. It was recommended to me by Father Daly in response to the awe I feel as Brother Jude (our second son Gabe) proceeds in his journey as a Franciscan friar and the conviction that I need to live a less self-centered and materialistic life.

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