If Christ is Lord of Heaven and Earth, Why Do I Keep from Singing?

The hymn goes,

Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?

But, I think I've been living my life by re-writing the hymn to,

If Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, why do I keep from singing? 

The first question my new spiritual director asked me in our first session a couple months ago was, "What kind of person do you want to be?" My answer was to be the type of person that is filled with such joy and is not afraid nor ashamed to share the source of that joy with anyone. I always think of a gym member at my gym, Jerry, Brother Jerry. Jerry is a big powerful older man that talks to everyone, loves on everyone, and has no fear of sharing his joy and his faith in God, whether he knows them or not. He even prayed over me in a squat rack after I told him about my family's new adventure in life as a missionary family, right there, smack dab in the middle of the gym. It was awesome! But, I'm not living like that.

My problem: control. Man, here I was thinking I put all my trust in Christ, thinking I had fully stepped out of the boat becoming a missionary with Adore Ministries. I was doing great! But, I have not relinquished all control, not by any measure. I want to be able to share my faith with anyone unashamed, but I still dictate who, when, and where that is. "I'll talk with him, and him, but oh not with him," not necessarily because of who a person is but more out of my being self conscious. I say I want God to use me, but when he points me in a direction, I still have the ability to say "Nope, uh uh."

I do this in my day to day when I feel called to speak to a random person, give someone a compliment, or even in my family when I feel like something is up with someone or even if I'm drawn to say the simplest things like "Hey" or "Good morning". I just shrug or laugh things off when a conversation gets inappropriate, but I'm the guy who "jumped out the boat".

Over the past two months my director asked me to do a couple things. First I was told to meditate on the cross and Jesus' passion. He went through that to draw me closer to him, how come I can't go through a little discomfort to draw others to Him. I picked up a recommendation, Bishop Fulton Sheen's "The Seven Last Words" to help with my meditation. Then I was told to ask God to put me in situations that would allow me to grow and maybe to even get something to remind me of that. So, I went and purchased a St. Raphael medal. He's the patron saint of divine appointments.

My spiritual director is new. I had no reason to leave my old one but as life was going through changes she popped into my head and heart. But life happened in a way that lead to choosing my new one, and I regret nothing. The way it happened is rather odd. I told my former director that even though we'd eventually be moving to a new town where my mission would be I'd still drive the 30-45 minutes to see him. I don't know what happened but he ended up taking me off of his schedule. It became difficult to get back with him so I took that as a sign to move on. I had previously spoken with my current director telling her that I had no reason to switch but that she popped into my head and I asked her if she had a policy against directing men and to pray about if she'd feel open to directing me since we previously worked together. I grew so much through her before she was my director, and this new journey with her is no cake walk and I sure am being challenged.

I plan on continuing to share this journey here.

This post was inspired while playing Audrey Assad's album "Inheritance" and listening to "How Can I Keep from Singing" on our drive to Louisiana for Thanksgiving. Give it a listen and get a copy, or 10, and give them out for Christmas.

Come Further In! Come Further Up!: Aslan and My First Day of Advent

(Written last night after mass.)

Today is the first day of Advent...HAPPY NEW YEAR! I went to 7:30PM mass by myself at the Chapel of St. Basil at the University of St. Thomas. Adeline had been feeling bad off and on throughout the day so Erika went at 5:00 with Elanor and then I went. It really is a blessing, those times when we are either able to go just the two of us, Erika and I, or by ourselves. It's just so much easier to really enter into the mass when we aren't wrangling the girls.

Mass was going great. It's our favorite place to go to mass, the readings were powerful, Fr. Michael Buentello was on point with his homily as always, and then things got intense. During the Agnus Dei I started thinking about Aslan and I almost broke down crying.

Let me explain. We have been reading the Chronicles of Narnia to the girls for the past few months. We are currently on The Last Battle. I've been waiting to read this book (I have never read all of the books before) especially because Fr. Mike Schmitz has mentioned it in his homilies. In his recent series he is talking about being homesick for heaven, our true home.  His homilies and these images have really been impactful for me especially wanting to take Fr.'s advice in becoming homesick. But really, the Aslan character has always been a powerful image to me. But the idea of him combined with our arrival to heaven has been a very penetrating thought. Near the end of the book Aslan beckons the creatures and the children to follow him: "He turned swiftly round, crouched lower, lashed himself with his tail and shot away like a golden arrow. "Come further in! Come further up!" he shouted over his shoulder." They don't think they can keep us so they start walking in the same direction. But, at one point the unicorn starts to run. The rest of them run also but they are able to keep up.

""I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in."

He shook his mane and sprang forward into a great gallop-a Unicorn's gallop, which, in our world, would have carried him out of sight in a few moments. But now a most strange thing happened. Everyone else began to run, and they found, to their astonishment, that they could keep up with him: not only the Dogs and the humans but even fat little Puzzle and short-legged Poggin the Dwarf. The air flew in their faces as if they were driving fast in a car without a windscreen. The country flew past as if they were seeing it from the windows of an express train. Faster and faster they raced, but no one go hot or tired or out of breath."

It was during the Agnus Dei that I thought of this scene and Aslan saying "Come further in! Come further up!" I started to cry, but these weren't tears of sadness, they were tears of thanks and a moment of being grateful in a moment of intimacy. From that point all the way up to after receiving Jesus in the Eucharist (I was trying to keep from crying the whole way up the aisle and back) and getting back to my pew I was in this state. It wasn't until this point where I could connect the dots of the entirety of the mass and my experience. In this beginning of Advent we are being asked to do just what Aslan beckoned, "Come further in! Come further up?" We are being asked to enter this season and to journey to Christ's coming.

The readings point us to Jesus coming and ruling the nations where, "They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; on nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again," PEACE. The response to the psalm, "Let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord." And Jesus reminds us in the Gospel that what happens in the first reading is coming. Jesus is coming, and we should be prepping, we should be ready.

So for me, my theme for this Advent will be "Come further in! Come further up!", hoping that I'll be drawn

into the great reality of Jesus being born into the world. He came to be the light and show us the way. This way is treacherous and beautiful. Most of the time we want it but when it is shown to us it can be daunting. In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, as they approach the Dark Island the crew decides that they won't go into the darkness. Reepicheep speaks up, "And why not?" No one answers so he does so:

""If I were addressing peasants or slaves," he said, "I might suppose that this suggestion proceeded from cowardice. But I hope it will never be told in Narnia that  company of noble and royal person in the flower of their age turned tail because they were afraid of the dark."" -

 It is then mentioned that their is not practical use in entering. Reepicheep answers,

"Use? Use, Captain? If by use you mean filling our bellies or our purses, I confess it will be no use at all. So far as I know we did not set sail to look for things useful but to seek honor and adventure. And here is as great an adventure as ever I heard of, and here, if we turn back, no little impeachment of all our honors."

It's at this point that Lucy stands for us all. She would rather not go on into the darkness but she answers, "I'm game." Well for this Advent, I'm game. Further in! Further up!