Seek the Lord and you will find Him. Perhaps not in the manner that you’d expect or the way you hoped. He will respond in the way best suited for your salvation.
This passage from the Psalms carries with it much hope for the alcoholic and addict still suffering, or for anyone having difficulties accepting the Cross of their recovery. (We all may learn we have our own Simon of Cyrene in our lives. We have to hope that we can recognize him or her.)
We have to keep in mind that God’s response to our prayers is in His time and not ours. We may have to endure in our tribulations; but this just means in the end we will emerge stronger and more secure in our partnership with God and our reliance on Divine Providence is bearing fruit.
What do you think of death? Is it something to be feared, avoided and denied? Like many people do you ignore it and hope it never bothers you?
I have had a relationship with death stretching back to my childhood. Not that I lost anyone close to me during that time, but I feared that I would. My Mom had celebrated her 47th birthday 11 days before I was born. Dad turned 50 a few months before that. I thought nothing of it until I went to school at age 5. At school events (choir, plays, etc.) I noticed right away that the other kid’s parents seemed different. I discovered that they were younger. They were farther away from death than my parents were. Death… as in going away permanently. I didn’t much like that. I was convinced that at any time Mom and Dad were going to die. I developed the habit of checking their chests while they were napping to see if they were breathing. This continued long after I reached adulthood during vacations home and after I returned home from California in 1995 to care for Mom.
My adult experience of death has been defined by my Mom’s dying in November 2005, and the subsequent griefwork (grief counseling, namely online discussion forums, in person counseling and grief support groups.) After the initial period which lasted well over a year, I developed the notion that death isn’t something to be feared. Sure, I would rather have my Mom and other loved ones still around, but as I moved past the pain and agony of the loss, I was able to see and understand the “Communion of Saints” doctrine of the Church as something of a comfort. This great “cloud of witnesses” that St. Paul writes about in Hebrews 12 may include our beloved dead, gone on before us. They form a part of the Church along with us. Those in Heaven being members of the Church Triumphant, while we still on Earth as a part of the Church Militant. Together with the Church Suffering (those souls in Purgatory) we all comprise the Mystical Body of Christ. We are all members of a community of believers, and as a community can still have a relational bond.
Through prayer and devotion to the deceased, we can still maintain our relationships with them. They are not completely gone. We obviously cannot interact with them as we once did, but it is uncharitable and cynical to regard them as forgotten or “gone” . They are just beyond from where we are.
Therefore, death ceases to be a means by which our beloved are taken away and are gone. Death becomes a passage through which our beloved experience the joy of entering into the presence of God, the domain of eternity where He is.
Ultimately it is a passage that we need to think about and meditate upon. Unlike most times where we focus upon the destination rather than the road, this passage is significant unto itself. Everyone will experience it. Regardless of what you believe happens after death, it is universal. Happens to everyone. Whether the passage of death leads one to Heaven or Hell depends upon the choices we make while alive. Therefore death as a passage forces this consideration of our daily living. How do we live?
If your attention is focused upon Heaven, and you consciously yearn for that place which is our true home, the death is to be welcomed and not feared. Perhaps not desired, but certainly not looked upon with dread.
And definitely a motivation to repent and reform our lives and practice our recovery principles.
Death is our way home.
NOTE: This post is reblogged from another blog of mine on Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell that is discontinued. Relevant posts on recovery are being migrated one at a time over the next few years to Sober Catholic.
There is a very reassuring passage from the Second Reading in today’s Mass for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time: Romans 8:28 “We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”
Reassuring inasmuch as it helps us to understand that regardless of what we are going through, there may be value to it. Suffering can be “offered up” in reparation for ours’ and others’ sins… we can use it to grow closer to God as that frequently is the reason for it. Suffering detaches us from the world as we can see that the means by which the world uses to allay suffering can often be destructive. If suffering is material or economic in nature it can encourage us to adapt to a more frugal and simple lifestyle; again, detaching us from the rampant materialism and consumerism that spawns greed and envy. We come to rely on Divine Providence.
At any rate, convinced that “all things work for good” helps us to become aware that eventually “it will get better,” that despite whatever our current situation is if we just keep our “eyes on the prize” we will get through it.
And we “who are called according to his purpose;” what purpose could that be but to hold onto our sobriety and recover the life we are supposed to lead?
So, keep on Trudgin’ the Road of Happy Destiny and know… it does get better. We just have to learn not to look at things the way the world does.
I have spent much of this past month discerning the future of “The Four Last Things Blog.” Originally it was to be an auxiliary to Sober Catholic but focusing on the specific subjects of Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell (the four “last things” we are all going to face one day), rather than general recovery topics from a Catholic perspective. Purgatory, too. Although that isn’t a “Last Thing” as it precedes Heaven. This was because these subjects are rarely covered in Twelve Step meetings. However, despite the good intentions, I haven’t really done much. I never intended to blog extensively at “The Four Last Things” anyway, but I had hoped to delve somewhat more into the various topics, even wandering off into metaphysical speculations and other randomness, as well as any possible grief recovery blogging. There are just over 150 posts which averages to nearly 18 a year. A lot are repetitious ones from prior years on All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days, cemetery visits and devotions and the like. But, “I never intended to blog extensively anyway” when combined with a slacker-blogger attitude has resulted in the blog being essentially undeveloped.
More activity has been found on the blog’s social media Pages on Facebook and Google+. I might keep those. That’s part of the discernment. I could just as easily post Four Last Thing’s material to “Sober Catholic’s” social Pages in the future, I just don’t know. It might be better to just consolidate. Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s a way to export content from a Facebook or Google+ Page and import that content into another one. There are points to continuing the Pages or deleting them (or consolidating them into “Sober Catholic’s” if that’s possible.)
So, given that the stated purpose of the blog was to bring a focus onto the Four Last Things as they are mostly ignored in the real life rooms and online universe of addiction recovery, and as its publishing has fallen way short of that desired goal, I think that the most reasonable solution is to combine “The Four Last Things Blog” into this one. Relevant posts can be published here, and in case I feel a need to blog on matters such as death, dying and the afterlife but without the recovery aspect, those posts can go on “Paul Sofranko’s Blog.” At any rate, “Four Last Things” type posts will be far more visible than they are now, continuing to exist in the post-shutdown afterlife 😉
So, the possible plan for shutting it down will be to export the blog’s file, then import that file here. This file includes all posts, comments, categories, tags and media. I have to manually transfer blogrolls and sidebar widgets; one of the latter, the “Find a Grave” widget, will go to “Paul Sofranko’s Blog.”
But for now I’ll just post this here for now and think about it. One historical sidenote: way back before I self-hosted my blogs they were on Google’s Blogspot servers; I decided once to delete “the Four Last Things,” then changed my mind and resurrected it. So, there’s been some doubt all along as to whether this is a worthy standalone effort. However, it has been in continuous existence since 2010.
I came across one of those “inspiring” images online; I rarely (if ever) have posted them on here, I usually just share them on SoberCatholic’s social media Pages. But this one deserves a share here, as I think it addresses a problem common to all alcoholics and addicts, regardless of how long sober and clean. (I don’t know who the creator is, it didn’t come with any attribution.)
It appears that “Satan’s voice” is heard quite often by us; frequently when trying to become sober, often still long afterwards.
That voice also isn’t some evil-sounding, malicious growl dripping with hate, either. It can sound like people we know who have been harsh and judgmental with us in the past. Satan knows the pain they’ve caused and just exploits that.
Keep tring to hear that sweet, still, small voice of God.
This isn’t really a movie review. I am expressing gratitude for a film. Which one? The Way, starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez.
I purchased the DVD a few weeks ago and recently found the time to watch it. I can’t say enough about it… I viewed it twice in one day last week and once again today. I feel compelled to watch it again before 2015 is over, which means I’ll be up early tomorrow morning to pop it in the DVD player right after Morning Prayer.
As the movie is over 5 years old, I won’t worry about ruining it with “spoilers,” besides, I don’t think knowing what happens harms the experience of watching the film.
In short, Martin Sheen plays Tom Avery, a Ventura County, California eye doctor whose son, Daniel, played by Emilio Estevez, is travelling about the world because he has to get it out of his system. Daniel is a Ph. D candidate who decides to not finish his dissertation. He determines that the real world is more important than ivory towers. And so he goes off to China, Nepal and elsewhere.
Near the beginning of the movie, we learn that he is in France. And shortly after, Tom learns through a phone call from the French gendarmerie that Daniel was killed in a freak storm in the French Pyrenees. Tom travels to France to claim the remains and return home. Once there, he learns from the French gendarme who notified him of Daniel’s death that Daniel died while going on the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. “The Camino” is a 1,000 year-old pilgrimage ending up at the Tomb of St. James the Apostle. If you do a search for that, you’ll learn much more than I can tell you here; clicking on the movie link in the first paragraph is a good start.
After Tom learns of Daniel’s pilgrimage and goes through the gear that was found on his body, he impulsively decides to finish Daniel’s journey. This is not something that one “just decides to do,” for the Camino is about 500 miles long and training is usually required. Tom is over 60. Did I mention that you have to walk it? (But this is a movie, after all… but… perhaps there is a lesson here?)
And so Tom takes Daniel’s gear as well as Daniel (his body was cremated), and starts.
Tom begins the journey and meets numerous people along the Way. Although consumed by his son’s death and the accompanying grief, he reluctantly gathers three companions for the trip. Joost from Amsterdam is the first, and he is doing the Camino to lose weight. His wife no longer wants to be “intimate” with him and he’s had warnings from his doctor. Sarah from Canada is next, she says that she’s doing the Camino to quit smoking. (There’s another reason, which I won’t disclose.) Finally joining the group is Jack from Ireland. He’s a travel writer who is afflicted with writer’s block. He’s there to write a book on the Camino (interviewing pilgrims) and get “unblocked.”
And then stuff happens, 😉 finishing with their arrival at St. James’ Cathedral. (Do they know how to build Cathedrals, or what???)
It is a deceptively simple movie; seeing it several times so quickly keeps me “in it” and enables me to pick out certain things I otherwise would have missed. In other words, the movie remains fresh and seeing it again so soon helps me to add layers of comprehension. It is also not a typical film, very character- and idea-driven, unlike most Hollywood movies.
I now have a tremendous desire to go on Camino, although I doubt it will happen due to physical and financial issues. Bursitis in my arms, arthritis in my shoulders and feet (the feet also have bone spurs/calcified deposits – complications from old sprains) hinder me.
Why did I say that “I am expressing gratitude for” the film? Going “on Camino” is a basic theme of my recovery; “trudging the road of happy destiny” is an AA phrase for a journey for personal recovery (namely, “life.”) I am “here,” I need to go “there,” and going through whatever is in the way is my path. I am a firm believer that the journey is a part of the destination. A journey, or passage, is a symbol for me of conversion and transformation.
This is why the film “spoke to me,” and why I have these compulsions to watch it repeatedly. It’ll pass, it’s not like I’ll be obsessed with it and will end up watching it 500 times (well, maybe over a thirty-year span…) Right now it’s a new discovery that I’m going to enjoy in the near future and many times beyond.
“The Way” is undoubtedly now one of my favorite movies (the list includes “Casablanca.”)
Today is Christmas, the Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord. For many people it is a happy day, a time for family gatherings with lots of food and gifts and good times with memories to last.
For others, not so much.
Remember those who are lost today. Those who are lonely, have no family, or if they do, are estranged from them. Those who wander about with no hope.
Remember those who are homeless.
Remember those who are jobless and have to endure the humiliation of that state when they gather with family. Being unemployed anytime is horrible enough, but around the holidays it can be particularly embarrassing and humiliating. The personal degradation that you feel while among family members and they know you are out of work. They look at you, speak to you…
Remember those who have to work today…
Remember those who are just going through a rough time; a time of transition and change. The worst Christmas I ever had was ten years ago, Christmas Day 2005. My Mom had died in early November and just before Christmas the executor of her estate informed me that I had to get out of the house (I had been living with Mom for the previous ten years) so the estate can move forward with the sale. I suppose that if I had thought about it at the time I might have coped better, being forced to move might have made me meditate and ponder on the homelessness and wanderings of the Holy Family as they were on the move for the census mandated by the Emperor. Not to put my situation on a par with theirs at all, but the issue could have been handled with far more compassion.
But the executor had little use for compassion and understanding as they are merely baggage that reminds one of your own humanity.
And so after being told that I had to leave within thirty days, I drove about the county in a suicidal mood. The roads were icy and snowy and I was seeking out an appropriate place to ditch the car with me in it in a fatal accident. The “eviction” was the last straw; having been a punching bag for the executor and held with cold indifference by certain other family members was enough. This nearly broke me. I did have the presence of mind to call my priest who “just happened to know someone” who might have an apartment to rent. He did, and so I spent Christmas Day 2005 moving, hauling carload after carload of possessions across town. Alone, just me, as there was no one available to assist.
I knew “aloneness.”
I apologize for the downer post on Christmas, but perhaps you can spend a few moments thinking about those who are spending Christmas in a situation not at all similar to a warm and rosy holiday setting. Offer something up to help them cope.
I blogged earlier about an online friend’s sudden death.
Given the nature of Sober Catholic, I will offer an exhortation to those who have yet to make amends to people they need to (or have to). Do so, for the time will come when they will die and the opportunity will be lost.
I understand perfectly well the resistance to approaching people and trying to make up for the damage done while drinking or drugging. Sometimes it is not possible as trying to will only do more harm than good. Use your conscience or speak with a sponsor or bring it up at a meeting, if needed.
But at least consider the possibility that they person may not be around when you finally decide to repair the relationship.
NOTE: The lady who died wasn’t someone with whom I needed to make an amends. Her death was sudden, and that is what prompted these posts.
Today is October 3rd and that is the vigil of the Feast Day of St. Francis of Assisi. For Franciscans worldwide, tonight is the “Transitus,”or the ritual observance of his death.
I won’t go into details as to what transpires during the ritual, as I am not a Franciscan and thus have never participated. However, I will blog briefly on the event as it is significant for this blog in some ways.
I read up on the Transitus and various Franciscan sites and blogs variously describe the ritual observance as important as it connects Franciscans with each other – those living today and those who have gone before. That this great community is united by the observance of the death of their Order’s Founder is a wonderful lesson. It is something that can be incorporated in our lives.
“Memento Mori.” “Be mindful of your death.” In memorializing the anniversaries of when our loved ones died, we remember them as they were if their death was lingering due to age or infirmity; but we can also remember them as they had been when still vital and younger. If they died suddenly, it can be a way to “manipulate time,” they were suddenly taken from us but in or memorial observance we can “be there” in some spiritual fashion. If they died too young, well, perhaps it can be a manner in which they are brought forward in life along with us.
Our beloved dead are not forgotten, they are still with us, although in a ritualistic spiritual way. Their death is no longer some event isolated in thr past that might fade a somewhat in memory over the years. Oh, we still remember when Mom or Uncle Jimmy died, but over the years the date slowly becomes just another day in November or July.
Ritual is important. It helps organize life and mark time. “Ritual” is also the hidden word in spiRITUALity, something lost, I think, in those who eschew religion in favor of only spirituality.
As I write this, the feeling is growing within me to actually think about doing this somehow for some of my beloved dead. One way is on the Anniversary of a death is to say the “Office of the Dead” from the Church’s Liturgy of the Hours. Here is an online source: Office of the Dead.
Why is this important for Sober Catholic readers? Death is hard on everyone, but I think there may be a special hurt for people in recovery (regardless of how long clean and sober.) You were somewhat absent from their life while they were alive, because of your drinking and using. And now they’re really gone. Really hard if you owe them an amends. Doing a “transitus” for someone might help you cope with the loss, as well as “make amends.”
Perhaps I’ll think of some thing to do in addition to the Office of the Dead. Making a cemetery visit is good, if possible. Maybe readers this can offer suggestions in the comments.
Yesterday I blogged about my wife’s efforts to help the homeless, in Tents for the Homeless. Today is another day in which I’ll be exhorting you to consider another Work of Mercy: (a common theme in the Lenten Missal readings…)
Stephanie and her late husband met on CatholicMatch.com, where I also had met my wife. We continued our friendship with Steph on Facebook, (her husband wasn’t a member.) Our little group of CatholicMatch alumni were devastated with the news of her husband succumbing to PTSD and depression.
To quote from the gofundme campaign: “Stephanie, his beautiful wife who stood by him and tried all she could to get him the help he deserved is now left to pick up the pieces of their family life.
She is the one who has paid it forward for so many. Now this is our opportunity to not only show gratitude for a friend, but to also say thank you for YOUR service, devoted wife of a US Marine who dedicated his life to improving our lives.”
So, for all those who “Support the Troops,” now is your chance to do something. Michael had served in three branches of the US military (Marines, Army, National Guard.)
