Friday, January 05, 2007

Thoughts Provoked

So, I've been back home for 24 hours, and I'm supposed to on silent retreat. And this is the second silent retreat, at least, that I've blogged during. I feel rather guilty, though I'm technically silent (even my speakers are off), but that's an issue for me and my spiritual director. And, since my Instant Messangers are logged out, I'm not really talking to anyone. It's more like journal writing, or diary writing... or blogging.

Anyway, the reason that I am writing in possible contravention of the silence of the retreat is to preserve some of the awesome thoughts that were buzzing around my mind tonight, as our speaker, Bishop Fred Henry of Calgary, spoke.

Bishop Henry is an amazing man. Most Canadians, if they know him, know him as the really outspoken Catholic bishop out in Alberta-- and he's certainly butted heads with the press on many, many occasions, all of which I call recall having been for good reason. He's a really nice, and almost soft-spoken man in person, though.

Anyway, to the talk....

The first main idea that His Excellency spoke on was about identity, and how in the olden days (meaning when he was younger) people identified with their jobs. People not only got their earnings from being a teacher, or doctor, or bus driver, or priest, or whatnot; they took a lot of their identity from the institution they belonged to, from the name they bore as an employee. It was a source of strength and self-knowledge.

This was all just a prelude to talking about priests and their specific vocations and hardships, but in continuing to talk about society in general, he noted that this is no longer the case. As the world becomes globalised, and as time passes, we no longer really take our identity from being teachers or doctors or bus drivers. We become just mere consumers.

This struck some sort of a cord with me, and it seemed to apply in some way to the online community. I know a lot about WHO people are, but I don't know WHAT they are. I know what most people's jobs are, or for those who are students, what they aspire to-- if they do. But I don't know what they see themselves as, what their identities are. Not for the most part, anyway.

Some people may argue that we don't need such labels, that WHAT we are is simply an adjunct of WHO we are. I'm not sure if I disagree or not. Bishop Henry said that in the past we took a large part of our identity from the institutions we worked with: the schools, the churches, the businesses. We had somewhere we belonged.

Where do my online contacts belong? I'm really not sure. The only group I associate them with is the Barrow-Downs. Perhaps it is a tribute to the remarkable power of Tolkien's works and the personalities on that site that it has become a major facet of our identities. Quite likely, this is why I personally was distraught at Davem's banishment. It wasn't just being kicked out of a website. It was being kicked out a very identifiable community. And if you change a community's makeup, you change the identity of the people who draw on it.

Other than Barrow-Downers, what ARE these people I think I know?

I know that Lal is a bureaucrat... but I really don't identify her with that. I know that Sarah is a librarian... and she gets some of her identity from there, but not particularly strongly. I know that Jay is a student, aiming for Oxford... and I definitely identify him with Oxford. Perhaps that's the answer to his question of why HE got in, specifically. He belongs.

That's where this whole identity question is going for me: where do people belong? I think I know these people's personalities well... but I must admit that I'm rather clueless as to where they belong. What do they identify themselves with?

Looking at myself, I think the results speak for themselves in saying that I identify myself with the Catholic Church, specifically as a priest-to-be and current seminarian. I think myself justified in this opinion simply by how people refer to me. If anything Catholic or related comes up, I am an instant connection. I am identified with the Catholic Church.

That is an awesome feeling. I belong there!!!

Wow, I've written a lot already... but moving on...

The next big thought that Bishop Henry's talk set off was on the downright and complete oddity of Christians (and priests as examples of Christians). If you really step back and think about it, we are really odd ducks. He went on to list three areas, not coincidentally the same as the three religious vows.

Poverty: It isn't the goal of Christians to be poor, but it is not the goal of Christians to accumulate possessions either. For priests in particular, even if you don't take the Vow of Poverty (which Diocesan priests, as I will be, don't), you still adhere to the ideal poverty: if you have it, enjoy it; if you don't, IT DOESN'T MATTER. If you did have it, and it's gone, it doesn't matter. If you'd like it, and you don't have it, it doesn't matter. No material possessions --none-- matter.

Obedience: It's pretty much just the clergy and religious orders that have to take VOWS of obedience among the Christian people... but obedience is built into Christianity. "Not my will, but Yours be done". As the Bishop said, "who wants to be obedient? It's a lot better to be top dog". And I think a lot of Christians have lost this value. I am speaking of the Protestants, and in doing so I'm likely controversial, but I think it true. The Protestant mindset goes back to QUESTIONING, specifically the questioning of authority. And I don't deny that there was some serious garbage going on in the Church back in the 1300s on through to the 1600s that needed some serious fixing. The issue is when the Protestants decided that rather than trusting God to fix the Church, doing their part through prayer, urging, pleading --and loyalty!--; they decided to take matters into their own hands. My apologies to those who have made it this far into the entry, since I don't want to alienate you after all that hard work, but I think I'm on to something. I don't think the Protestants deny the important of obedience, I just think that they've messed up.

Anyway, moving on to the third field and religious vow. Chastity.

For a priest --for me--, this means celibacy: complete sexual abstince, for life. However, this is not so much the unusual in Christianity as it is the unmarried norm. No matter how liberal you get in your interpretation of Christianity, if you remain even halfways orthodox, you have to admit that sex is only intended for within marriage. And even then, there are certain rules (a bit more explicit, if Catholic). And, of the three vows, this one is truly the one that makes us odd ducks from today's society's point of view. Who wants this? Look at it from a modern secular humanist's point of view:

"What do you mean I can only have sex in marriage? I'm not hurting anyone; we're both having a good time! What do you mean I can't have sex with my fiancée before marriage? Come on! We'll be married in a month anyway... What do you mean I have to be faithful? Is one or two itsy-bitsy little affairs going to hurt that much? What if she never knows about it? What about gay guys? Do they count? I mean, really, it's not like it's the same as with her, so why get so tied in a knot about it? Well, can't we have a threesome at least? I mean, I'd still be having sex with my wife, even if there's anyother sexy party involved. Sheesh!!! Can't I at least masturbate or have oral sex?"

The answer from the Church: No. "NO" to all those suggestions, and "NO" to contraceptives. And it's non-negotiable.

As I said, we are odd ducks, and no mistake. From the world's point of view, we are raving lunatics.

The final idea that Bishop Henry's talk got my mind onto was somewhat weaker in its intensity, or seemed so, possibly because it came on the heels of the whole 'odd ducks' bit. But it's an interesting topic anyway, at least for me.

The topic is "detachment", and how a priest NEEDS to be detached. We (I say this with forward-looking expectations) need to able to remove ourselves from immediate, first-person concern. And this is not to make ourselves insensitive, said the Bishop, but to make us feel others' pain more deeply. And we will do so because we won't be taking sides; our judgement won't be clouded by deep personal involvement.

Note, of course, that the Bishop was not saying that we need to become reclusive zombies. Not at all! Rather, the Bishop was saying that we need to allow ourselves to not be tied down in our attachment to any particular person or place. We need, in our love for God and His people, to be able and willing to go wherever God needs, to serve however He wishes, and to not take upon ourselves the burdens that are not ours to carry.

But it is, as he said, a double-edged sword, for it can be lonely.

And, now that I get to re-thinking about this, a part of me is saying "YES!!! NOW I GET IT!!!" I have always been somewhat detached. I've never had a "best friend". Other than family, I cannot honestly say I have people who will miss me years after I'm gone. My funeral will be packed yes, but ten years later people won't say "I miss Michael sooo much!", but rather "I remember him, he was a nice guy". I can even say that the one online person who would (I think) truly miss me if gone is... well, family now. The rest of you would all have good memories, I think, and would mourn me, I hope, but you wouldn't ache ten years later to have a chat.

And you know what? It IS lonely. It is very lonely at times. There is no joking about that.

But it all makes sense now!!! It is such an awesome feeling, knowing that there is a reason, knowing that not only is it another cross to bear, but that it is a cross that I can see results to! Suffering, to a Christian, is never as difficult if one knows why than when one doesn't. And alleluia, I know why!!!

Okay, that has got to be my longest blog post yet. I could honestly not care less if anyone ever reads it (though I think the following debate could be highly amusing), I'm in such a good mood about it. I've remembered more than I expected to of His Excellency's talk, and looking at it in hindsight, I got a lot more out of it than I thought.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ah...you know me too well. :)

Formendacil said...

Or possibly the problem is that you know me... :p