Since When is Lust No Longer a Sin?

In the past couple of years, I have become very selective about what I read.  Other than reading the Food Network Magazine subscribed to by my mother-in-law, I rarely read a magazine.  I find the content and visual images of many women’s magazines to be a place of temptation – even in the grocery line.  And so I “avoid the near temptation of sin”.

Recently, as I was waiting for my fingernail polish to dry in a salon, I perused the magazines. I avoided Star, OK, In Touch and even People for an edition of Redbook.  What harm could there be in reading this mainstay of women’s magazines?  As turned the pages and skimmed the copy, I decided to read an article titled the Best Love Stories of 2012. (Note that the article clearly touted love, not sex or erotica.)

The article mentioned the royal couple William and Kate who are sweet in public and have been horrified at having their private moments splashed across the tabloids. I turned the page to find an article on the “Smorgasbord of eye candy this year” avowing that women are “loud and proud in our appreciation”.  There was a photo of a famous male in a skimpy bathing suit and the article suggested another man to “Google if you want to get the home fires burning - but don’t do it at work”. The take away was that “your husband doesn’t care what’s got you so worked up, as long as he reaps the benefits”.  I actually read the sentence twice.  I don’t know about other men, but my husband would not be happy knowing that I am fantasizing about another man while we make love.

The next article about “love” touted the effect a soft porn novel has had on martial sex, stating that the movie version “can’t come fast enough”.  Since when is lust no longer a sin I thought as I slapped the magazine shut and moved it far away from my seat.

This mainstream women’s magazine is promoting activity that not only diminishes the value of the intimate marriage relationship, but promotes sinful behavior as something to boast about.  I closed my eyes and my mind ranted at the outrage of including this material in an article about love.   A Casting Crowns song came to mind.  I can’t remember its name, but the lyrics include “be careful what your eyes see”.

The harms of lust are more far reaching than our current society will admit.  When sex is a form of recreation, not an act of creation or comfort, it damages the love between wife and husband.  And we, the women of today, have bought into the current culture’s theme that sex is far more important than love. 

We do need to be careful what our eyes, the eyes of our husbands, and the eyes of our children see.  How much of the crumbling family structure can be blamed on confusing love with erotica?

I Love You Pope Benedict!

               I woke up on this Monday morning with a list of things to get done.  Later today, I will see a friend that I have not seen in a year.  But my morning routine came to an abrupt halt at 6:58 am when I received an email alert from the New York Times about the resignation of our beloved Pope Benedict XVI.  How can I not take a few minutes to reflect on the effect that this great man of God has had in my life?

               He is only the second Pope that I have known.  In my senior year of college, John Paul I died just weeks after being elected Pope.  Even as a non-Catholic, I became fascinated with the election process in the fall of 1978.  Being a political science major, the process, which was nearly 2000 years old, was engrossing.  In fact I’m glad there wasn’t anything like CNN as I may have skipped class to watch!

               I was waiting for a flight at O’Hare airport when I learned of Pope John Paul II death.  At that time, my faith life was minuscule and I was curious, but wary of this new German Pope.  The months flew by and soon we learned that Pope Benedict would come to Washington DC. My then 10 year old son immediately asked if we could see the Pope.  My internal reaction was, “We aren’t good enough Catholics to see the Pope”.  However I responded, “We will see.”

               And we were able to attend the mass at Nationals Park.  When our pastor asked for people to submit their names if they wanted to attend, I wrote a letter.  When I got call, I felt like we had won the lottery.  What I didn’t realize was that the Holy Spirit was busily at work over these months, preparing me to be open to God’s call back to him later that summer.

               It was an inspiring day to see priests and bishops cheered like rock stars.  The liturgy was beautiful and the Pope had a message that made me stop and ponder the insignificant amount of time that I gave to God.  Just two months later, God swept me back to him in the most marvelous manner.  During this re-conversion  I have learned much from reading what this holy man of God has written.  He writings will be with the Church for the ages.

               When I was in Rome 18 months ago, we walked to St. Peter’s Square the first night we arrived.  The lights were on in the Pope’s apartments.  I had this childlike delight when his lights turned out and I whispered “Good night Pope Benedict” as I strolled thought the streets of Rome back to the hotel.  I love listening to him speak English with his adorable German accent.  When he met with the young people in England, I was taken aback at the huge smile, reflecting the great love his has the youth of the world.

               I have watched as he has slowed down in the past couple of years.  I have prayed that the Lord give him the physical and mental strength to continue his great work. I admire him even more for making this difficult decision.  After February 28, we will continue to benefit from his continual prayer.  I love you Pope Benedict and you are in my prayers!

Pour, Pour, Pour

               A few days ago, while running to retrieve a football I was repeating “pour, pour, pour” over and over.  I found myself on the football field with my 15 year-old son. He wanted to practice punting and kicking, in the hopes that he might replace the graduating kicker on his high school football team next fall.  My husband usually handles the sport practices, but he was under the weather with a terrible cold.

               Earlier that week, I had been using Jeff Cavin’s new Bible Study titled “Walking Toward Eternity”.  It uses Lectio Divina to study several different topics, including love.  The passage I was reading was 1 Corinthians 13.  I think of this chapter as the wedding passage.  Having been to countless weddings with the reading, “Love is patient, love is kind”, my husband and I chose not to use it when planning our wedding 19 years ago. 

               I read the passage out loud twice and then quietly prayed with it.  I envisioned a water fall, understanding that true love is like a waterfall that pours and pours and pours.  The question in the journal asked me to describe the passage and I wrote “unending pouring”. 

               If love truly “never ends” and is all of the things described in 1 Corinthians 13, then it is like a waterfall pouring over those who are loved.  That means that I am the "pourer" of love over those I love.  To be able to pour means emptying myself, even when it feels like I don’t have anything more to give (or  don’t want to give any more).

               Later that day, I found myself on the football field, chasing down balls that landed on a fabric covering.  Rightly, my son didn’t think it was a good idea for him to run on the fabric with cleats.  First he enthusiastically practiced 8 or 10 punts (being filmed by me), and then 8 or 10 extra points.  He analyzed each kick, looked at the video to determine his form and then kicked the ball again. The clock was ticking.  I watched my watch as the minutes flew by, knowing that I needed to get home, shower change and get to church to lector at the 5 pm mass.

               As I was chasing that ball, I wanted to shut the practice down and go home.  And then the words, “pour, pour, pour” came into my head.  I realized that being generous with my time was the way I was pouring out my love for him (and for Him) that afternoon.  We gathered the kicking paraphernalia and headed for home 50 minutes before mass.

               We arrived at church 12 minutes in advance of the beginning of mass.  That was late for me, but in plenty of time to gather a sense of calm and prepare for reading.  My hair was slightly damp and I the only makeup was mascara on my lashes.  I doubt that anyone noticed.  But my son knows that I was willing to help him in this new venture and the Lord knows that I did my best to “pour” my love out for him that afternoon.

The Lost Wedding Ring

               A few weeks ago, my husband sat down next to me on the couch and said those words that can strike fear in the heart of a spouse.  He said, “I need to talk to you about something.”  When either of us has had something important, intimate or controversial to discuss, we have used a similar phrase.  My reaction to the phrase most likely goes back to my dating days, when it was followed by words to the effect of “you are a very nice girl, but . . .” and the relationship was over.

              

               This time the phrase was followed by, “I can’t find my wedding ring.”  I could tell how awful he felt about it.  He remembered being in church and knocking the ring against the pew on a Thursday night and then when he was driving on Friday; the ring wasn’t on his finger. So the timeframe when he lost it and the places he traveled led both of us to believe it was somewhere in the house.  I let him know that the ring is only a symbol and that it would turn up. 

               

                 Quiet frankly, in the business of the fall activities, I forgot about our conversation, only to be reminded when I ran across my husband dumping the paper recycling out on the garage floor to go through it before it went to the curb for pickup, or when he spent an entire day cleaning out his closet to, unsuccessfully, look for it.

               

                 For me, it is not the ring that binds us together as husband and wife, but our vows before God, that covenant that makes us one.  And after 18 years of marriage, it is certainly not the ring that keeps us together, but the willingness to love each other by giving out entire selves.  At one point when we were in conversation, I let him know that if the ring was not found, we would pick out another one and have it blessed by our Pastor.  In the whole realm of the stresses of life, I didn’t want him to worry about a piece of gold.  Especially since one of the reasons he lost the ring is that he has lost 40 pounds in the past few months and his finger is now thinner.

              

                 Last Friday, I received an email that said that the ring was found.  My son was going through his Scouting backpack, preparing for another camping trip and at the bottom of the bag, he found my husband’s ring (and $16 in cash that he didn’t know he had)!  I could feel the elation and relief that my husband was experiencing as I read the message.

               

               And so the ring is found!  But even better is the knowledge that our marriage is built on solid ground, not on all of the trimmings of our wedding day.  I am thankful for this experience and asked him to go get the ring sized this week, so we wouldn’t have to experience it again!

A Crisp Tuesday Morning

        On a crisp Tuesday morning with weather, not unlike today, I took a rather unexpected walk up Rhode Island Avenue in DC with strangers.  We were walking from the business section of our Nation’s Capital to a Metro Station.  The streets will filled with traffic. Strangers stopped to offer us rides.  It was quiet.

        And then, the sounds of a plane cause us to jerk our collective heads up to the sky.  Oh, not a plane, but a helicopter. With a sigh of relief, we continued our walk. 

        This was not a normal Tuesday morning, but September 11, 2001.  We had been sent home from our offices after the plane crashed into the Pentagon.

        On that walk, I heard a person begin to sob.  She said, “One of the towers has collapsed.”  I immediately began to pray for the people in the tower.  I also had an image planted in my mind of thousands of angels hovering at the site of the Twin Towers, catching the souls of those who were dying that day.

        Many may remember the Franciscan priest, Father Mychal Judge, chaplain to the FDNY who was among those who ended their earthly lives that day.  This morning, I used a portion of his homily from the day before as a prayer.

        You do what God has called you to do. You get on that rig, you go out  and do the job. No matter how big the call, no matter how small, you have no idea of what God is calling you to, but God needs you. He needs me. He needs all of us. God needs us to   keep supporting each other, to be kind to each other, to love each other….        We love this job, we all do. What a blessing it is! It’s a difficult, difficult job, but God calls you to do it, and indeed, He gives you a love for it so that a difficult job will be well done..        Isn’t God wonderful?! Isn’t He good to you, to each one of you, and to me? Turn to God each day -- put your faith, your trust, your hope and your life in His hands. He’ll take care of you, and you’ll have a good life. And this firehouse will be a great blessing to this neighborhood and to this city. Amen.

        Good words to pray, no matter what our professions or stages in life.  He will take care of us and we will have good lives!

May the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace.  Saints from 9-11, pray for us!

"The Work of Christmas," by Howard Thurman

For many, Christmas ended the morning of December 26th.  In the Catholic liturgical calendar, Christmas ended the night of January 9th this year.  I just discovered this poem filled with love and truth and wanted to share it with you.  It was written by Dr. Howard Thurman.  He was Dean of Theology at Howard University and Boston University.  In 1944 he helped found the first racially integrated, multiculural church in the United States.  As an author, philosopher, theologian, educator and civil rights leader, he influenced many during his lifetime.  And with this poem, continues to influence even today.  I just had to share it with you!

"The Work of Christmas"

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among brothers,
To make music in the heart.

A 17th Wedding Anniversary

My husband and I celebrated our 17^th anniversary earlier this month.  That particular day, a Saturday, was extremely busy for our family.   We realized a week before the anniversary that we would have little time for just “us”. 

This type of “celebration” seems particularly appropriate for this time in our lives.  While our marriage is the foundation of all that we do, right now, little of our “doing” is for each other.  Our lives are more about taking care of our son and my husband’s mom than it is about the two of us. Four years from now, our son will be in college and we can do whatever we want on our anniversary.  (I’m thinking a European Cruise might be in the mix!) 

The morning of our anniversary, we attended our son’s first high school football game and brought my mother- in- law with us. We cleaned house and did some volunteer work, ending the day with a family dinner. 

It has always been my mindset that our wedding anniversary is a private celebration -something that only the two of us celebrate.  And this being the 17^th year, it was not an “important” anniversary (I don’t ever know if there is a suggested gift for seventeen).
That mindset changed this year.  We did receive an extraordinary number of anniversary greetings from family and friends.  With each greeting, I thought, “Our anniversary is only for us.” 

My thought changed as I was reading magazine covers in the grocery store.  Some make known the steps to plan a perfect wedding.  Others claim to know the inside workings of celebrity marriage.  Wearing the right clothes, having a picture perfect physique and a beautiful home are all keys to success, according to various tabloids.  Not one mentions our spiritual side, that giving is better than receiving or that God will meet all of our needs.

Perhaps, I thought, this anniversary does not just mark the 17^th celebration of the day we committed our lives to each other. Our marriage is not simply the celebration of our love for each other, but for the union of our lives, with Christ, in the sacrament of marriage.  

Our anniversary doesn’t just belong to us.  It is our public proclamation of our love for each other and our commitment to our union until death.  My husband and I can give thanks to God for bringing us together.  We can be an example of living marriage as a sacrament.  While being married for 17 years is not a record, it is something worth celebrating - publically!