On MiniGolf and Mystery

Tonight found me in an unlikely-for-me place: a glow-in-the dark indoor miniature golf course in a strip shopping mall off a state highway.

I proposed the location for a Saturday night date with my husband and he agreed. While we waited our turn at mini-golf, we played skee-ball and a few rounds of Hoop Fever.

We had a great time. Our teen sons would be grateful they had not come along since while we played - me cheating and my husband diligently marking his own score with a glow-in-the-dark pencil - I was singing and dancing to the 1970s music that blared through out the facility.

At Mohonk: Thinking About Fitness and the Inexhaustibility of Human Desire

This summer, I've been determined to get fit. Given my excess weight, I see my battle as a life-or-death struggle to stay healthy for my husband and our sons. In addition to swimming 30 minutes a day, I've been strength training with the help of a personal trainer and spending an hour a day on the treadmill, trying my best to increase the pace and incline of  the treadmill. This morning, on a hike in New Paltz, New York, I was reminded, once again, that whatever endeavor we humans undertake, nothing but the Infinite will satisfy us. 

A Mall Visit Offers An Unseen Gift

Menlo Park Mall in Edison, New Jersey is one of the last places I wanted to be on a Wednesday night during Advent. And yet, I spent nearly three hours there tonight while our 16-year-old shopped for a winter coat and some clothes for upcoming Christmas parties. I spent most of my time sitting in the food court and contemplating what Monseigneur Luigi Giussani called "the domination of preconception, the tyranny of prejudice."

You see, the mall visit shattered a lot of my preconceptions and consequently brought me  gift I did not foresee.

Gasoline Shortages and Thoughts about Larger Hungers

Driving down River Road in Piscataway today, recreating the first little bit of my forty mile commute to see if the road to the highway is clear, I was startled to see this at my gas station.  

These folks are filling up gas cans so they can run their gas-operated generators. Because of Hurricane Sandy, millions of New Jersey residents are without power. 

This scene made me reflect on how utterly dependent we are on gasoline.

And then, it made me think about how utterly dependent we are.

Life is hunger, thirst, and passion for an ultimate object, which looms over the horizon, and yet always

lies beyond it. When this is recognized, man becomes a tireless searcher.

— Father Luigi Giussani

Waiting for a Storm: Unexpected Beauty

Given that a late-season hurricane is bearing down on the East Coast, friends and family in other parts of the country are asking what is going on right now here in New Jersey. Well, we're doing lots of preparing and lots of anticipating. "Waiting for the storm of all storms is a tedious process!" a fellow eighth-grade mom wrote as her Facebook status about half an hour ago. She's right.

I alternate between feeling bored with it all and being scared; no one knows exactly where landfall will happen, and because this is a diffuse storm, how widespread its effect will be. And yet, there is always the possibility of Beauty emerging amid fear.

Contemplating Teens and Tchaikovsky

Helping teens navigate adolescence is not for the faint of heart. I teach teens. My husband and I are raising one, and soon, two, teens. The adolescent years are as tumultuous, as full of questioning and confusion, as the toddler years.

Sometimes, I find out things I would rather not know.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that the Mystery is imbedded in all reality and that all of us, even teens who make poor decisions, are redeemable miracles.

Back to School: God's Mercy and My Anxiety

It's easy to let ourselves become anxious. But when we consider our lives in the light of God's overwhelming love and mercy for us, anxiety has a way of dissipating.

This morning, I woke up from a dream, a nightmare really. I was walking and I was trying to run and I just couldn't figure out how. At one point, I was late getting someplace too, and then, I thought two ominous-looking men were following me. I just could not figure out how to run.

Reflections of a Catholic in Amish Country

On a visit to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania last week, my husband and our younger son bought  combo passes to ride the historic Strasburg Railroad and visit the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania next door. From the train, the views of the verdant farmland were spectacular.    (Above is one I took with my iPad.)  Still, the two most powerful moments of the visit came when I least expected them.

Three Wise People Help Me Find A Good Shepherd for Post-Modern Times

I never really got this Good Shepherd business. Sure, Christ is the Good Shepherd for me, but what about for all my friends and family members who do not follow Him? Most of the people I love or with whom I work or share a neighborhood would not call themselves Christians. Some of them, in fact, are decidedly anti-organized religion, preferring to place their faith in humanity or the universe or in some vague sense of karma.


How is Christ their Good Shepherd too?

Christianity is Not a Religion

I've stayed up way past my bedtime, watching the Easter Vigil Mass from the Vatican on EWTN while in the kitchen the Easter bread rises and our teenager finishes work for Model Congress. Later this morning, our family of four  will go to Mass and then we'll come home to what I hope is a scrumptious Easter meal of pork tenderloin with rosemary and garlic, roasted potatoes and carrots. We will finish off with a coconut pie from Mr. Tod's Pie Factory. And then, I plan to plant some pansies in the front yard.

Why are we doing this? What are we celebrating? For what have we spent the days of Lent preparing?

On Paula Deen, Newt Gingrich and Our Inevitable Hour

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,

Awaits alike the inevitable hour.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

When the Journey is a Trial, My Book of Hours Accompanies Me

Tuesday was a miserable night. You see, I work with human beings. I live with human beings. And I am a human being. And sometimes, that is all just. too. much.

I went to bed late after an intense family conversation about something I likely won't remember a few months from now. Something that seemed terribly important and urgent at the time and worthy of a late-night conversation.

I tossed. I turned. I reached for my little red Book of Hours.

The Why of the Wow of the New York Encounter

As I rode the train home from the New York Encounter last night (yes, that is our son's upright bass in the foreground; I agreed to carry the behemoth home so G. could enjoy dinner in New York with friends unencumbered) I thought about why it had been such a good experience.

I was delighted the chamber music orchestra our son plays in had the chance to perform Friday night in the Hammerstein Ballroom.  I found the talk on the Hubble Telescope interesting. I thought it was incredibly cool that Polish film director Krzysztof  Zanussi spoke and then was walking around wearing those fashion-forward glasses. But in the end, what awes me most about the New York Encounter are not the performances or presentations. After all, I have had two decades of interesting experiences as a journalist. What moves me most and stays with me now are the people who attend the New York Encounter.

Monsignor Giussani's unlikely brother: Bruce Springsteen

Monsignor Luigi Giussani: meet Bruce Springsteen.

Earlier this week, I discovered a connection between these two men, one the late founder of a worldwide ecclesiastical movement and the other ranked Rolling Stone's 23rd greatest artist of all time. Both men tell us we can encounter beauty and meaning in every moment.

This Advent: To Be Eager in Our Search

I've been trying to mark Advent by slowing down, staying away from the mall, praying more and increasing my awareness of God's presence in my day-to-day realities. This afternoon, I drove with my CL friend T. to St. Rita's Church on Staten Island for my first-ever Advent retreat. I came home reinvigorated for the "home stretch" of this season, eager to become one of those souls who is truly alive.

Feeling the Financial Pinch? Read the Wife of Bath's Tale for Wisdom about Poverty

My husband and I are by no means economically poor. We own a home. We both are professionals employed full time. We are not worried about being laid off. We have health insurance. We do not use credit cards. We do not worry about making our mortgage payments or paying for groceries. And yet, like so many Americans, we are pinched. Right now, we need to replace our oven, our washing machine and, we just found out today, the engine on our used minivan. (That will cost us $2,100. Yikes.)

It's easy for both of us to feel burdened by the bills, to focus on how we are getting by instead of ahead financially. It can feel suffocating when I start to define myself by the bills we owe.

Thank God for the gift of literature. My high school juniors are reading Geoffrey Chaucer's  Canterbury Tales, the medieval story about 29 pilgrims on their way to Canterbury Cathedral to visit the shrine of Saint Thomas Becket. He paints a portrait of life in 14th century England and directs much criticism at the corruption of the Church. His characters are so vivid, so true to life, it is easy to forget his pilgrims are merely a product of his imagination. I begin to think these pilgrims truly existed. As they journey, they tell stories to while away their time.

The wisdom found in the Wife of Bath's Tale, as she speaks of the value of poverty, spoke to my heart from across the centuries. Today we read these words out loud. (This is a Modern English translation of the original, which is in Middle English.)

Paying Bills, Supporting a Family and Considering Our Value

Deep in the night, while most of us are asleep in our beds, the mother of a teenager I know begins her 10-hour shift stocking shelves at a discount store. She starts at 2 a.m. At noon, while many of us are taking a lunch break, she is leaving work and driving to other people's homes to make extra money cleaning them. She's usually asleep when daughter returns home from high school.

The daughter has about three hours between returning home from school and heading to a store, where she works four hours every weeknight. Her father's workday begins at 7:30 a.m. and he is home by 6 - after she has left for her job. Her older sister, with whom she shares a bedroom in the family's apartment, works 40 hours a week at the same discount store as the mom and takes one class a semester at a community college. The family rarely is awake at the same time, and seldom eats meals together.

Back to School and Seeking the Divine

I headed back to my public high school teaching job last week and our boys went back to public high school and middle school, respectively. This time of year brings changed routines and busy days. We have to find a new rhythm and routine for everything, down to who walks the dog when.

My schedule has radically shifted; I wake by 5 a.m., head out the door by 6 a.m. and generally don't sit down again until about 9 p.m.  My day includes trying to manage our small household - the grocery shopping, the meal preparation and overseeing my children's homework or at least nudging them toward it. The nine o'clock hour finds me and our 11 year old snuggling upstairs as I read "Johnny Tremaine" to him.

Mulling the Density of the Instant

As summer slipped away and I spent my days shopping for school supplies for our sons and taking one last visit to the beach, I've been contemplating what difference the existence of the Eucharist makes in my life.

How long exactly, does it take to receive communion? Maybe a few seconds, yes? In that act, we unite with eternity. This is what Father Luigi Giussani, founder of the Communion and Liberation movement, refers to the "density of the instant." How many instants comprise our  lives? Each one is an opportunity to fix our gaze on God.

Fr. Giussani puts it this way: "the Eucharist becomes the beginning of Christ’s triumph in time and space, in history,"  Amazing.  And here is something astonishing: the density of the instant begins, not ends, with the Eucharist. We enter eternity every time we lift our thoughts to heaven.When we pray, no matter what we are doing (driving, chatting, shopping, making dinner) while we are praying, we are communicating with God, who exists beyond space and time. We pray for the souls among us, and souls who have gone before us. We pray for them; they pray for us.

This is what we Catholics call the Communion of Saints.

Realizing this, I remember the days, full of instants wasted with worry, impatience and regret. The challenge before me is to recognize that every moment holds the possibility for transcendence.

I like what Saint Claire of Assisi had to say about that:

Place your mind before the mirror of eternity! 

Place your soul in the brilliance of glory! 

And transform your entire being into the image 

of the Godhead Itself through contemplation.

When Charity Trumps My Morning Coffee

I'm still tired from my late-night socializing, but now I'm also full of joy. Two friends and I just returned from a local nursing home, where for an hour we sang with a handful of residents and played trivia games.

One attraction of the ecclesiastical movement Communion and Liberation is its emphasis on living the reality of Christ - not the Christ in our heads, not the Christ of our abstraction, of our preconception, not the Christ of ritual, but the Christ as a here and now present reality.