Autumn's First Tears

Autumn falls gently, its tears alighting
On grass so to languish under leaf
Helplessly in the dark, amid bright November sun.  

Thirsting. Thirsting for light, for light and liberation.
Utterly helpless against the dark, against time.

Will by grace the savior come with his rod and its fingers?
To sweep away the blanket and drive away the darkness?
To bathe all in saving light?

Indeed He comes! See! The darkness is driven
With refreshing breeze, Light pours over
Blade and crevice, shimmering with dew drops
of autumn's first tears

Can I hear God?

Another older one...

I was walking Katie to school this morning.  I heard birds singing.  I said, "Katie, do you hear the birds?"

"No, it's too noisy.  Buses and cars and stuff," she said.

It was, and you had to listen for the birds, blocking out the other noises.  For a brief moment, I was patting myself on the back for noticing the birds.

Then there was that little voice in my head: "Eric, do you hear God?"

"No, it's too noisy."

Managing a Smile

I just came across this note that I wrote several years ago.  Posting it for preservation...

Changing Anna Marie (who was 9 months old at the time) I was suddenly aware of a basic truth.  A nine-month-old is totally dependent.  Cannot do anything for itself.  The infant is provided for and protected, totally and unconditionally. 

And the only thing the infant can return is what?  The only thing the infant can return for all this is its own affection.  A smile, a laugh, a hug, a kiss.  It can only return its love.

Can you imagine a healthy infant that did not show attachment and affection to its parents?  Yet that is exactly what we do.  For all His love, gifts and protections, the best of us barely manage a smile for Him. 

All he asks of us is our love.

He Who Lives by the Sword

Christ tells us what happens to those who live by the sword.   

I don't think Christ meant this figuratively, or in some probabilistic sense.  He's not saying, "odds are, you'll get it one day..."  As far as I can recall, Christ never tells us what might be.  He always tells us what is or what will be.

To live by the sword is to have an interior disposition of soul that is belligerent and possibly malevolent.  It is an exterior manifestation of the interior reality of a soul that is already dead or dying.

It is not simply bodily death Christ speaks of here.  It is the whole person, and the death of divine life in the soul. 

He who lives by the sword dies, not because of the sword itself -- let alone that of anyone else -- but because of the spiritual rot which is at the root of that way of life.

This is why St. Paul tells us to put away our pugilistic attitude.  It leads to death, whether we brandish a physical weapon or not.

Pick up Your Cross

It is not a cross unless it is that by which your self is crucified.

Poverty in Desire

At the root of all of my desires for pleasures -- in food, drink, comfort, etc. -- is a deep desire for God.  This, I think, is true for everyone.  Our desire to experience the good in something is really desire to experience the perfect, perfectly fulfilling, good.  

We just don’t normally experience it this way because we’re caught up in our sensory existence.  It is what Dom Augustin Guillerand refers to as the “darkened transparency” of things. The good things around us should point us to God, but they don’t.  We’ve lost (in original sin) our sense of the meaning of created goods:

Instead of pointing to the Creator and leading us to him, things show only themselves, with the result that we stop at them. The devil, to whom we stupidly gave them when we gave him ourselves, speaks to us  through their many voices; his shadow darkens their transparence. Beyond their attractive forms we no longer seek the beauty they reflect, but merely the pleasure and satisfaction they are able to offer us.

 - Dom Augustin Guillerand O.Cart.

I think what we want is that piece of candy (or whatever) because it delights my senses.  But when I really probe the depth and source of my desire, I find it’s something more transcendent, something deeper that I desire.  I would gladly trade the good I think I want for something that would never leave me wanting anything.

So it is ultimately God that I desire more than any thing else, even though I do not normally experience it this way.   I desire God above all things.  And, I think this is true for every human being.

But now that is the problem.  We are to love God above all things, not merely desire God above all things.  Desire is just the beginning, and I seem to be stuck there.

I encounter nearly endless desire, and yet I do not love as I should

So how do I go from desire to love?  I can’t.

All I can do is beg.  I am less than poor.   I owe what I do not have and cannot create.  All I can do is beg.  Beg God to give me love -- to give me Himself, who is Love itself -- so that I may give it back in loving Him and my neighbor.  Beg God to transform me from an empty abyss of desire into a loving, living person.