Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Truest Romance

I have often wondered why it is that Christians, and particularly Catholics, are often considered to be close-minded, while atheists are generally considered open-minded. I am not criticizing atheists; I understand the thought process most people go through to make their decisions, and I can respect that without agreeing with them. But logically speaking, it seems to be backwards. One group of people holds that life is what we know with our five sense, that logic and our minds are the highest powers and the most trustworthy, and that life is nothing more than a few decades. And one group of people believes that there are greater things out there, that there are things we cannot sense or grasp, and that life has an infinite, greater meaning.

I know that as a Catholic, I may be biased. But it seems to me that the first group is more close-minded than the second.

People who believe the Catholic faith is harsh and rigid and suffocating don't know Catholicism. That could not be farther from the truth. Catholicism is not binding, it's freeing. Catholics are the truest and most starry-eyed of romantics.

We believe that there is a world out there full of power and light and blinding love and pure awe. A world that we couldn't begin to imagine. A world of infinite peace and eternal love. We believe that a Being, with power beyond anyone's imagination, created our world, that is so vast to us, and put each of us in it on an individual level. That He looked at the world and thought it needed a me, and a you. That this Being, this Lord of all Lords, looked at his infinitesimally tiny, dirty little creations, and loved us so much that He became as low and tiny and dirty and insignificant as we are. Just to secure our happiness. And that after becoming that low, and willingly suffering a terrible death, He ensured a miracle, every day, every moment, in the Eucharist, just to remind us.

We believe that mercy can be infinite and forgiveness always available. That there is always a higher power watching our back. That our life here on earth is full of pain and suffering because it's just a test. It's just a tiny test of a few decades to see whether we can choose eternal joy, and if we can do our best with what we're given, we'll receive an infinite amount of perfection. That all the dirtiness and ugliness on this earth is there for a reason, and a very good reason. That suffering is cleansing, strengthening.

We believe that true love is a tie that's eternal. That what is bound in love can't be broken, no matter what. That sexual love is something so sacred and beautiful at its purest that it reflects the Trinity. That humans are like tiny little mirrors, little windows, whose sole purpose is to let God shine through them. That with help, we can let through a ray of light so bright it blinds the world, and shines out into the eternal world beyond that. That the God who made all that exists chooses to use us how He pleases.

We believe that no one is ever too far gone to turn around. No villain is beyond a perfect redemption arc. We believe that it is the lowliest, the most downtrodden, who will be the highest in the end.  That the littlest things in life, done with the most love and intent, end up meaning just as much as bigger things. That you can change the world just a tiny bit at a time. That kindness and virtue are always noticed and rewarded.

We believe that there is something- Someone- out there, who is full of so much beauty and power and love, that He is obliged to keep Himself from us to keep from overwhelming us. That He can show us the tiniest corner of Him, and we will be consumed for days, years, even lifetimes, with unimaginable joy and strength. That the tiniest closeness from Him strikes peace deep within us.

That there is a Love so deep, so chillingly, strikingly deep, that it will always, always take us back, always choose us, with open arms and joy.

Catholicism's deepest nature is joy and romance and the unthinkably beautiful.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Hope and twenty-one pilots

A while ago, I read this fantastic blog post on LifeTeen:

http://lifeteen.com/blog/hope-doesnt-always-feel-good/

And it set me to thinking, as usual. It's something that had never occurred to me, that hope might not feel hopeful. That maybe I don't have to feel bubbly and happy to be hopeful. It's only been in the last couple years that I'm realizing emotions aren't as straightforward as they maybe ought to be. That maybe you can practice a virtue without feeling the virtue. That maybe you don't have to feel anything for it to be real. That maybe God withholds emotional reward as a test, a trial.

I've always been convinced that love is a choice and not a feeling. I think that also applies to hope, and probably a lot of other abstract ideas and emotions. I think hope is more of a gritty determination to cling to something than a floaty feeling. I think it maybe doesn't even fully feel like determination. I think hope is the subtlest abstract idea, sneaking in before you can realize you're being hopeful and then disappearing when you think you are hopeful. I think most of the time, it feels like nothing. After all, hope isn't wholeheartedly itself until you're hoping against the odds. And if you feel happy and hopeful, then how easy is it to hope?? Too easy. I have a strange conviction that things don't begin to honestly count until they're hard and begin to hurt. That may be hope, but if it is, it's a lesser hope, a not-quite-full hope. I heard somewhere that hope is the only thing that's stronger than fear. I'm not sure I agree with that, but I do think hope is too linked to fear to be just a happy feeling. As the linked blogpost says, "hope belongs in darkness".

I think hope is a conscious decision that fear is temporary, even if it doesn't feel temporary. Deciding that fear doesn't have to affect your life, take over and shove you aside. That you can out-wait it, outlive it, and come out at the end. That it can get inside your head but it can't get to your soul. Hope is recognizing the beauty in suffering. Hope is recognizing that even if life sucks, you can come out of it better. Hope is retaining yourself, your blind trust in God, through the stuff life throws at you. And I think most of the time, hope doesn't feel like anything, let alone something good.

In contemplating this, I realized the answer to a question I've long wondered: why do I like twenty-one pilots? They are absolutely unlike any of the music I usually like. They're loud, and bleak, and a little insane sometimes. They're not my moody indie coffeehouse music or cutesie ukulele love songs, even if their lyrics are genius and gorgeous. And I only listen to them in my worst moods.
I think it's because they're a little bit like hope. There is such a disconnect between what they say explicitly, what they say implicitly, and what they sound like. Not always in the same way. But they're always a conundrum. At first glance, they're depressing, and harsh, and a little insane. But lots of their music has hopeful undertones. Lots of "nothing's okay, but that's okay, it's not supposed to be, so hang in there until it is".

It doesn't feel hopeful. It doesn't look hopeful. It doesn't smell hopeful. But it is.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

The Inevitable Love-Post

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin if your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." - C. S. Lewis

This man is a genius. I know people who do seem to believe that they can avoid pain if they just never love, never give, and never feel. People who are afraid of their feelings. Who are afraid to love. And on a certain level, I wholeheartedly understand.
Love hurts. In fact, lots of the time, love hurts as often as it feels good. And love-pain is coincidentally the most painful sort of hurt there is. Because love, true love, whether platonic, familial, or romantic, is the most intimately unselfish act.
There are plenty of other ways to give and to be intimate. But with all the other ways to give, you give things. Money, food, stuff, time, work, impersonal things. You don't give your actual self. And there are plenty of ways to be intimate without love. I think lots of the time people say they love each other without realizing that they're merely intimate with the person, and don't love them.
Love combines the giving and the intimacy, and the deepest depths of both. That's why love is the truest and the most painful thing you can do.
But let's be honest. Our world, people in this time, we're all ridiculously terrified of pain and sickness and suffering. We're creatures of comfort, and instant gratification, and if we're not completely comfortable right now and always, we run to do whatever we can to fix ourselves until we're comfortable again. But nobody ever said that we should be comfortable all the time. Nobody has ever grown through comfort. If you ask anyone in this world to name a time when they grew the most, they will undoubtedly name a time when they suffered. And usually it was love's fault, a lack of love, a breaking off of love, unreciprocated love, but always love.
Lewis' use of words like motionless, airless, and impenetrable really get to me. He's so right. You can lock it all away, pretend you don't have a heart, and you won't hurt. It's true. But you won't grow. You won't live. Without love, without your heart doing what it was meant to do, it will be stagnant. And in the end, you'll be more unhappy. Not in pain. But discontented.
Humans were made to love. We wouldn't have a million blog-posts like this about it, and there would be no discussion of love, if we weren't supposed to love. We are supposed to love and break and hurt and grow and love again, because it's what we do best. We're resilient like that.
Mother Theresa told us to "love until it hurts" which I initially disagree with, when it's by itself. Don't love only until it hurts. Love past that. Love until it hurts and then love more, harder. That place past the hurt is where the second part of her quote comes in, the part I agree with because it changes the first part.
"I have found the paradox that, if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only love."
Love is always going to hurt. It's equal parts joy and pain, and that, in and of itself, is what makes it so special and true. If someone loves you past the pain, then it really is love.