Always Reforming

In today's world it is altogether too easy to become alarmist or escapist.  In fact, it is difficult not to overreact when surveying a culture that is nihilistic, post-Christian, politically divided, and which increasingly embraces (one could say assumes ) government intervention in the lives of private citizens.  Rod Dreher, however, presents a case and strategy for living calmly and strategically as we watch Western Civilization crumble around us.  Without mitigating the seriousness of our situation, Dreher advises Christians to live faithfully, boldly, and separately, without becoming cultish or tribal.  The Church, after all, will be here long after Western Civilization falls, and we are called to be the salt and light of the world.  The Benedict Option   begins by acquainting the reader with St. Benedict of Norcia, the founder of the Benedictine Order of monks and the author of the monastic Rule that now bears his name.  Dreher compares our day to Benedict's, emphasizing

Written 03/27/19 The beauty, The brutality, Of life Are found in its Symmetry. Between  Cradle and grave Lie the Strength and dreams Of men. Nature, That blind and ruthless Executioner, With each fell swoop of her blade She reminds mortal men That she is unwieldy, Unyielding and absolute, A dire certainty Appointed at the Fall. We are born, We die, We evolve, We dwindle, We learn, We forget. Our limbs, Once strong and sinewy, Our minds, Once shrewd and piercing, Become obsolete, Our lungs, Once heaving violently, One day lie still. The sun rises only to set, The Spring blooms only to Be buried beneath the frigid frostline, Men arise only to fade into The obscurity of the grave. And as they slip from the memories Of those who held them so dear, Nothing but weathered headstones Remain to commemorate their Unwilling participation in this Unwitting cycle of life.

Is this real? Awake, yet Dreaming, I stumble through This nightmare. Is this real life? I hear something on the news, I think to myself, I need to tell Dad, But I can't.  Is this my reality now? I haven't cried since the funeral, I'm still sad, But I'm all out of tears For now. I know, But I do not yet feel, The bitter truth. When is this going  To feel Real?

I woke up crying today. Here one day, Home the next, In a moment Lethargy becomes glory, Pain becomes joy, A heavy heart is unburdened, A weary soul finds rest. Sometimes it feels like  Life   Is just  Death   Prolonged over several decades, A   Lifetime   Is merely a list Of loved ones' deaths  One has endured. I've always had a feeling that I would die early. 31, No parents or grandparents left,  I guess that's what happens when you're the youngest of 7,   I don't think they call you an orphan when you're 31, but it still feels that way. He was a riddle that refused to be solved, He was a book that couldn't be read,  He went to his grave holding it all in, The pain,  The love,  The words worth speaking, If we don't understand him,  How can we understand ourselves?  The end of an era Has descended, Helplessly I watch A new epoch arise, But how difficult it is  To bid farewell  To the life  You have always known. And everybody asks you  How are you doing

Just when you thought you had it all Figured out, Just when your plans were starting to Materialize, Just when you were finally getting Comfortable, Just when you started to image that You were God, And God is not, Life goes  And throws Up a detour sign, A car wreck, Cancer cells, Uncovered infidelity, Miscarriages, Lost jobs. That's not how life was supposed to be, But that's just how life is.

My father spent the majority of his adult life teaching.  Whether he was teaching children at school or parishioners at church, he was always teaching.  It has been touching, even overwhelming, to hear so many people express how his teaching left an indelible mark on their lives, whether academically or spiritually, or both.   He was no different at home.  No matter what we were doing, he was always teaching us.  He viewed his children as his primary pupils, and he taught us everything he knew how to teach.  I'm sure we didn't always appreciate his intentions, but, as I reflect on my childhood and as I interact with my children, I can now appreciate his desire to impart knowledge constantly.   Here, in no particular order, are some things I learned from my father. Way more Beatles' trivia (including conspiracy theories) than any human being really needs to know. To be epistemologically self-conscious.  To hate losing, no matter what the contest.  That imperatives flow fro