All of us, Lord, from the moment we are born, feel within us this disturbing mixture of remoteness and nearness; and in our heritage of sorrow and hope, passed down to us through the ages, there is no yearning more desolate than that which makes us weep with vexation and desire as we stand in the midst of the Presence which hovers above us nameless and impalpable and is indwelling in all things.
Whose story was now being told?
That of a nation or one flailing youth?
That forged these tensile moments?
in the vast sweep of time and space.
that death cannot erase me?
Pull the plugs from impacted ears.
Break through the stiff wall of my heart.
Reveal yourself. Abide with me.
Rescue me from wrong relationships.
Pour fire into my arteries.
Consume my body as you make me whole.
for love, not for fear.
exceeded only by the pain of not knowing.
Where or who or why are you?
When will I take leave of my senselessness?
How will I make my road straight?
How will I fly to you without falling?
to glimpse your shining radiance?
to embrace your unapproachable intimacy?
Find you in inspired pages or hard sermons?
Or simply walk with you in the olive grove?
Hear me as I vibrate.
Know me as I pulse.
the inflammation in my mind.
except the one that pierced her Son.
Touched again by a foreigner's sacrifice.
Made joyous by new song.
in those wrapped in self, in those unraveling.
in the stranger receiving my last coin.
You are the Master asking for my all.
Children gone astray, led back.
Those who were silenced, again singing.
on a current of unconditional love.
to the life and love around me.
I thank you for the treasure that is already mine.
It was never mine to question.
It was never yours to answer.
all past, present and future encircling.
There is no Father who yearns like you.
No Son who teaches so well.
No Spirit that excites so wildly.
No Transcendence so involved with lesser mites.
to the mystery of creation.
I am no longer hungry for heaven.
You have poured heaven on me.
at a pace that's insane.
Their gain is their loss.
a game we win when we play fair.
"Take time for God and He'll take time for you,"
Never enough time! Taking way too long!
I'm sorry, your time is up!
The speed of traffic. The growth of our hair.
The progress of our children.
Credit card interest, compounded daily.
from which we are unable to escape.
Time for lunch. Time for supper.
has been, is now, and will be.
...I fell, silently, forever, in a dream.
an infinitely deep chasm. Diffuse light.
Wake me, or I shall go mad!
The sense of time brings sanity to our being.
Our being brings sanity to God.
and drove on back to work.
in my youth have all but vanished.
and more of the intangible.
confident that God will guide.
this Sunday, in the countryside of central Spain.
this Sunday, in the innercity of the American Midwest.
The One who knows me best is the One who is silent.
Ah, the silence of God!
who fell off the roof and was never the same.
about as intrusive as that Spirit-Thing.
But I didn't use my mud paste for anything.
I didn't know how to effect a miracle with mud.
as the summer sun caressed my being.
And I shouted, "My, how good this sensory impression feels!"
the lathe of creation turn itself.
to the Summit of Fulfillment.
the things you do in stealth.
for discord you have sown.
that pride you must eschew.
the words the naysayers say.
that keeps The Gifts at bay.
Get a life, have a clue.
Teach that love is synergy.
Make it flow, do the do.
you now seek love's true wealth.
fashioned from stardust and slime.
over the wavelets of time.
life is wild, life is worth the living.
to excise him from my breast.
I heard you calling lovingly.
filled my being with your light.
forgotten in the scent of flowers.
no longer will be unsung.
wash away our every pain.
to the clouds laying low.
where I kiss what I have known.
through this day with a smile.
in the wake of a row.
I still do not know!
of the organic scent of Spring thaw.
Suddenly, my right foot lands in a slush puddle.
Cold foot, wet foot, up to the laces.
There is joy today in this slush puddle.
I am living in my body for this brief period of time.
Each day, with varying intensity, I ask myself, "What should I do?"
A feather falls silently on the stone walkway.
A bird chirps, delivering an unintelligible but beautiful lyric.
I stand apart from a kingdom I can not yet know.
I should paint a picture of Spirit.
I will try to see with my third eye.
has turned to blind self-absorption.
The child no longer cares about others.
A lack of fine reading? The popular media?
Advancing age? A loss of faith?
Mayflies on the windshield? High-cholesterol food?
Antidepressant drugs? Our caste system?
Blows to the head?	Blows to the ego?
its thoroughly eccentric and degraded course.
He vacuously watches the stinkin' ball game.
Where has the selfless child gone?
Who will repair the hole in his soul?
the less you'll have to sleep.
on you being a winner.
Go, Smurf, go! Rock the planet.
After a twenty-minute nap in the car and on the boulevard, I awoke (within the dream) and realized that reality can be painted well if one is true to the balance of light and color. I beheld the shimmering pixels.
I regarded the land bridge impassible and decided to go way around the west end of the swollen, white lakes. A horde of bicyclists made a mad dash across the impassible bridge. Some made it, but a big man fell in the water. In his campsite, drying himself off, the big man muttered,"This is how I chose to spend my Sunday."
"My heart is closing," Bridget said, smiling, having just received a very fine overcoat from a very engaging and gracious foreigner. I shook the young man's hand. Our clasp was strong and sustained. There was spontaneous hope and joy.
"Iodine gives me twenty minutes of protection," the daughter said to her mother who responded, "I should have had it so easy in my day!" Whereupon the mother pulled off a very large piece of toenail and tossed it onto the locker room floor.
The stuff of dreams. Providing clues to nothing, or everything. A glimpse of heaven, where our bodies and minds are given free range. The play areas of disembodied souls. Accidental doors to parallel universes. Bizarre, disconnected feelings and sense impressions. Good for a brief laugh or a prolonged cry.
Your aura bathed my naked soul.
I'd found the love of my sweet dreams.
Who can analyze the magic?
Who's the architect so wise?
Of our long and blest communion?
Faith and hope and love sustain.
The vow we made inviolate.
More precious than a cache of gold.
The fruit you bore has blossomed forth.
With modest means, you build our home.
Forget the work, let's break away.
A chance to say, "Forever, love."
suddenly supplants my waking reflection.
and asks me why have I failed to thrive.
I explain that I'm enervated by exigencies.
the usual stuff in the mirror.
heir to an undisciplined intellect.
2. "Tell us how your faith is similar to and different than when you were in high school."
My Catholic faith was solidly infused into me at an early age through the efforts of my mother who is a devout Catholic rooted in Maronite (Lebanese) Christian traditions. As such, she has had the benefit of Eastern and Western values contributing to her life of faith. My father was a convert to Catholicism (when he married my mother) but he was not effusive at all about his beliefs. The School Sisters of Notre Dame — at St. Matthew's Grade School and St. Agnes High School — were very rigorous in their transmission of Catholic values. Also contributing to my spiritual education were the parish priests of my home parish and my high school, as well as certain relatives and family friends who set very good examples of Christian faith (in both the strength of their beliefs and the expression of their faith through good works). With this background, I became very good at imitating the qualities of Christ at an early age. I remember being very mystified by some of the deeper "truths" of my Catholic faith, such as the omnipresent, eternal nature of God and the teachings about the Resurrection. These truths of the faith were very near and dear to me. But I would say I operated at the level of imitation and fear more than at the level of appreciation through scholarship (discursive knowledge) or infusion of the Holy Spirit (affective knowledge). This a very complex question and I can only say that my faith as a 51-year-old adult is in some ways very much like it was in high school, but in many ways has grown and acquired new facets. I have had many moments of doubt, especially during hard economic times or disappointments in my business enterprises. But I have also kept my faith alive and well through regular attendance at Mass, by sending my children to Catholic schools (K through college), and by answering religion class interviews such as this.
3. "How would you describe God today?"
I would describe God as did Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, the famous French priest-philosopher. God is the Omega point — the perfection of a universe born in a state of entropy (disorder) but evolving from base matter to unifying spirit. The more scientists study matter, the more they come to a realization that the most elementary particles may be pure energy. God is a pervasive force of light, goodness and organization that struggles against the powers of darkness and sin. Even though the evolution of mankind toward a perfect state of being is not yet fulfilled, somehow the energy of the Unifying Principle imbues all space and all time. Perhaps the universe is cyclical. Perhaps God is a Master Architect who created all things seen and unseen, but how are we to know for sure? It is like an ant knowing the fullness of the human experience — an impossibility. Likewise, mortal humans can never know the fullness of the God State. Many claim to know — through revelations of all sorts, through near-death experiences, via faith traditions, etc. God has been characterized as a supreme being and also as a triune entity (Father, Son, Holy Spirit). I believe that God the Father intervened many times during human history, most notably in the Person of Jesus Christ. Jesus was not just an excellent prophet. This man was too full of grace, wisdom and miracles to have been a product of mere human nurturing. Christ was indeed the God-Man. He appeared at a critical time in human history and redirected the minds and hearts of countless individuals. The Holy Spirit followed on the heels of Jesus and is the guiding force that has continued to lead people to paths of righteousness throughout history. I studied the phenomenon of the Holy Spirit as I designed a mural for Holy Spirit Parish. I discovered that the Holy Spirit can be a bit of a "problem" for the institutional Church at times. Some mystics or pneumatics (pneuma=spirit) jumped beyond the bounds of official Church teaching, only to be later embraced by the Church. Sometimes, demonic possession has masqueraded as the Spirit. Sometimes, people have medical conditions like a constricted heart artery that may contribute to their visions or "ecstasy". But who can truly judge the experiences of individuals? Each of us comes to an appreciation of a higher order, a supreme intellect, or a spirit of love in our own time and in our own way. We yearn for grace, for peace, for wellness. We pray to be delivered from the ravages of sin and selfishness. God is everywhere — in our own being and in the beings that surround us. God is in all things — animate and inanimate objects. Wassily Kandinsky, an abstract artist, claimed to "feel" the spirit dwelling within inanimate objects — a spirit which begged for attention ("Draw me, please!"). In summary, I can only describe God as the highest order of self-knowledge, creativity and love.
Have the clouds of myst'ry cleared?
What's the use of all this rowing?
What's the payload that we're towing?
That friends say, "Look, he's moving!"
Who can cleave to a crumbling cliff?
God alone should be adored.
Word made flesh, heard and seen!
By His love we are redeemed!
Above our emptiness and sighs.
Copyright Richard Cecil Schletty. Design by Schletty Design.