Tag: Patrick Hanus

I cried for the first time in 16 years this past summer. I went 16 years without a good sob. I think the last time I cried I was 10 or 11. It was probably related to getting left out of a family gathering where there was “no place for children.” (I felt my socialite status as an eleven-year-old was not recognized by my superiors and that was simply unfair.)

Sure, a drop may have escaped from my eyes a couple times—but mostly I didn’t have the response I expected to. It wasn’t because I didn’t feel sad or because I wanted be a “Macho Man.” Nothing seemed quite sad enough to warrant crying. I think it came down to two things: I felt like I had to deserve to cry and I didn’t want to cry in front of other people.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus weeps at the sight of Jerusalem. It might seem insignificant, but there’s something here that is helpful when it comes to understanding human emotions.
Jesus is perfect. This doesn’t mean he’s a cold-hearted robot who never messes up a math problem, it means when there is an appropriate time to feel an emotion, he feels it in the perfect amount and then moves on. Our emotions are what make us human. We tend to treat human emotion as a defect and not as a feature of our humanity.

Crying is an emotion that is frowned upon in our culture. I don’t know what to do when someone is crying. I feel like an out-of-place Iron Giant, waiting for the leaking to subside. Do they want a hug or some space?

Emotions are a difficult thing. If we don’t let it out, it will haunt us. Emotion stays trapped inside our bodies and builds up until we’re ready to explode.

This past summer, my wife and I miscarried our first child. I remember feeling all sorts of things, but I really couldn’t explain what those feelings were. It reached a point where words didn’t do the job. A couple days after the miscarriage, a pit started growing in my stomach. I thought maybe I had a stomach bug. I hate throwing up.

My wife realized I needed to talk. She pulled me into our bedroom and asked what was going on. I started sharing the thoughts about our child and what I was experiencing. The floodgates opened and my sixteen years of emotional drought came to a close. I stopped resisting my emotions and let them wash over me. I wept and felt my grief at something—someone—I had lost.

After my cry I felt so much better. I was not longer trying to cram my emotional laundry into a suitcase.

I felt peace.

Feeling emotion is a good thing. There can be too much, or too little. Neither extreme is the way we were meant to be. We were meant to be human. Whenever in doubt, look to Jesus as your guide.

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“The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones.” — Jesus Christ

“Did you see what she was wearing?”
“Have you heard about their fight?”
“Has he seen a doctor about that thing on his foot?”

I find it interesting when people talk about other people behind their back. It’s one thing if it’s showering complements upon the absent person, but more often than not, it’s critical and spreading information that we have no right to be spreading. I am ashamed to have taken part in such conversations from time to time. But, like most sin, it’s exciting to talk about people behind their back.

I’ve realized I immediately lose trust in people when they gossip. There’s something in me that knows right now it might be someone else they’re talking about but next time it could be me. What story or criticism do people crack open and start passing around when I’m at a dentist appointment?

Few people would boast about how much people don’t trust them. We demand honesty from other people all the time, but it’s embarrassingly rare when we take a moment to look at ourselves and root out the smallest bits of dishonesty. We’ve been breaking trust since Adam and Eve and none of us are exempt from such a flaw.

It always starts with simple things, like not showing up to a friend’s house for dinner because you would rather watch Netflix. I think most of us have wasted company time scrolling through Facebook. It can be silly things like watching pirated versions of The Avengers, sneaking into a Dave Mathews Band concert (I have no idea who would want to do that) or buying a dress for a wedding only to return it after the wedding. (Cool trick, eh?)

Once we contemplate our trustworthiness it can be startling to realize we don’t even trust ourselves.

Honesty is doing what we ought to do. Honesty protects us from being hypocrites. Honesty means we need to admit we are wrong. We’re all broken and we’re constantly violating the rules we pretend to uphold.

Pagans and non-believers watch what we do. They listen to what we say. If we aren’t trustworthy and we cheat, steal, or gossip—just like everyone else—we’ve missed our chance to evangelize. We’ve made a mockery of our religion.

Doing the “very small matters” right makes a difference in the great matters. There are no sins that fly under God’s radar. It’s time to do some fall cleaning in our daily lives and root out those venial sins!

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“Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division.” – Jesus

Most people would not smack books out the hands of a cripple at the library. Most people won’t cuss out the girl at McDonalds because they got an apple pie instead of a pumpkin pie. Most people quietly tolerate Facebook posts they disagree with and scroll on, avoiding the social brawl about to happen in the comment section.

Most people want to be known as a “good person.”

Very few of us want to be seen as jerks.

It’s a part of our humanity to avoid conflict and want to be liked by people around us. This instinct helps keep societies stable. Unfortunately, it also makes us poor Christians.

What’s interesting is that Jesus came to the world to rock the boat. He turned everything on its head. So much so, he was crucified for it.

And here’s the crazy part: Jesus wasn’t “nice.”

Nice is a shallow adjective that is easily misinterpreted to be Christian. Christ loves all people, but it’s because of his love that he has to put his foot down. A “nice” person does nice things for their own ego and because they are concerned with how people perceive them.

Christ creates division.

Modern Catholics are very quick to go with the flow. There’s often an expectation of tolerance and niceness when we think about the modern day Catholic. This is not at all the case. We are supposed to love others but if others persist in evil we cannot condone such behavior.

Humans are given Free Will. Ideally, we use our Free Will to choose the good, but in order for it to be a truly Free Will we must be able to choose the evil. If evil is not an option, is our Will free?

If you have never felt left out or at odds with non-believers there’s a very good chance that you are not living out the Catholic faith that Jesus intended. Jesus himself told us that division would happen. Jesus himself lived the Gospel so loudly that he was killed for it. Have you come even close to being killed for your belief in the Gospel?

It doesn’t have to be a literal death; it is more often a social death. A death that involves being unfriended on Facebook or getting called a “prude.”

If friends believe abortion is acceptable, we should love them, but we must show our dissent. We might lose our friends because of it.

As Jesus did, we should be friends with the sinners, “prostitutes”, and “tax collectors” but we also must share the Gospel and urge them to “sin no more” (in the most loving way possible).

To tolerate sin is failing in our Christian Faith. Being Christian has nothing to do with being nice and everything to do with dying for your faith. We are not a faith of subtlety.

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“Be quiet! Come out of him!”

I am distracted. I wake up with notifications on my phone. Thoughts about work immediately rush into my head as I pour my coffee. A load of emails greet me as soon as my computer is turned on.

Every single person can relate to getting distracted—we live in the distraction age. Before we know it, even Daily Mass can become an empty habit. The rosary loses it’s luster, and we start it only to end it. Our minds glide freely as we bounce from one distraction to the next.

If Jesus came tomorrow I would be horrified. “I’m not ready! I thought I had more time!” It reminds me of my homeschooling days when my mom and dad would come back from their date early, only to find that the house was nowhere close to being cleaned. My siblings and I would panic, throwing all we could into a closet while trying to brainstorm excuses.

The reading today is a wake up call. What spirits or addictions have taken a hold of you? Today is the day you can make a step towards sainthood. It doesn’t have to be dramatic! Take one step in the direction of discipline. Just start with one:

• No texting in bed
• Jump out of bed as soon as you alarm goes off
• No Netflix during the weekdays
• No alcohol during the week
• Delete the Facebook App off your phone

Once you’ve cleared your mind and opened up your schedule a bit, the next step is to fill it with something meaningful. One of the most powerful things you can do (I promise you you will hate it at first) is spend 15 minutes in silence in the morning. Instead of hitting snooze, sit on the couch and give God the most deliberate 15 minutes you’ve ever given him. Let him change you. Let him talk to you.

Once you’ve done that for a week or two, add in another thing.

• Read the Daily Readings (the Holy Word of God) first thing when you wake up
• Attend Daily Mass once a week
• Pray an evening Rosary with your family
• Increase your silent time to 30 minutes
• Attend Adoration once a week
• Read “The Art of Loving God” by St. Francis de Sales

Every day should be one step closer to our Lord. If we aren’t moving closer, we’re moving farther away. There is no “status quo.” The unclean spirits are always working on us, it’s always urging us towards complacency—towards sleep.

We must urge each other towards holiness! Find a friend who will keep you accountable or ask your spouse to keep you honest in your efforts of purification.

If you first thought is that you can do it on your own, that’s okay. We call that pride. That’s a tricky one.

Here’s a template for you:

“Hey _________, I read a mediocre article that encouraged me to give up ___________. I want you to keep me accountable, because I want to take my faith to the next level. Is there anything I can help YOU with?”

If we aren’t struggling in some way, chances are we’re not growing. I’m sorry to say it, but it’s through suffering that we become Saints. Saint’s don’t let themselves be ruled by comfort and pleasure.

I’m praying for you! We’re in the good fight together.

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