By Kathy Coffey
“You shall not covet your neighbor’s
goods” (Exodus 20:17).
I want a house on a hill like
the ones with the gardens
where Papa works.” In The
House on Mango Street, Sandra
Cisneros remembers her childhood
when the Sunday afternoon
entertainment was riding around
looking at beautiful homes.
But eventually she quits going,
not telling her
family, “I am
ashamed—all of
us staring out
the window like
the hungry. I am
tired of looking
at what we can’t
have.”
How many of us waste precious
time and energy ogling “what we
can’t have,” or figuring out a way
to get it? In
doing so, we
overlook the
great goods we
do have: the
endless reservoir
of God’s
love, the gifts of
family and
friends, the
beauty of creation,
a warm
pool of memories,
individual talents, health, the
support of a faith community.
Each of us could create a unique
litany of blessings—a far better
exercise than longing for the latest
iPhone or designer jeans.
We’ve all had the experience of yearning for something
that we thought would bring happiness: the
child’s bike, the adolescent’s car, the adult’s antique.
Getting the object of our desires might thrill us temporarily,
and we might even cherish it for some time.
But eventually, the bike gets outgrown, the car dies,
and the antique, grown dusty and dull, joins the junk
pile. No thing can provide the long-term happiness
for which we were created.
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Good Longings
Ignatian spirituality encourages our desires—as long
as they are consonant with our deepest selves. These
longings are good because they are planted in us by
God. We should ask, then, for more wisdom, compassion
or kindness, because these will make us the
fullest, best persons we can be—persons God
desires and equips for his service. In contrast,
the shopping list of things is simply
too small for us, unworthy of God’s
splendid daughter or son.
If we use the latest gizmos to shore
up a weak ego or impress our friends,
we’re in big trouble, caught in a long
quest for more. Nothing wrong with the
gadget—the problem lies within if we can’t
believe we’re enough: fashioned by God,
redeemed by Christ, invigorated by the Spirit, intimately
loved by the Trinity and precious to some fine
human beings. What
else do we need?
In New Seeds of
Contemplation,
Thomas Merton eloquently
describes
how tiring it can
become to acquire
goods, working endlessly
for what fails to
satisfy: “Stanch in me
the rank wound of
covetousness and the hungers that exhaust my nature
with their bleeding. Stamp out the serpent envy that
stings love with poison and kills all joy.”
Most people who accumulate (and this descriptor
fits most folks in our society) find that
one thing leads to another. New furniture
in the living room makes the dining
room table look shabby. And on it
goes, until we don’t even realize we’re
caught up in an unending cycle. We
work hard to afford storage lockers
for stuff we don’t even use. Then we
wonder why we’re not at peace.
The ecological footprint left by North
Americans is gigantic compared to people
elsewhere in the world. Even if the loftier reasons to
avoid envy don’t appeal, this one should: We’re
destroying the planet’s resources with our greed.
Setting Limits
As the end of life approaches, do we want to cling
stubbornly to possessions which probably won’t fit
into the casket? Or will we be ready to ease joyfully
into God’s arms because we’ve been there all along? If
we set our ultimate sights on God’s face, anything
lesser seems like a temporary distraction.
As Joan Chittister writes in The Ten
Commandments, “Only God is really enough. Only
when we see beyond all the things in which we are
immersed, only when we learn to hold them all with
a relaxed grasp, can we ever discover the One in
whom all of them take their being.”
Kathy Coffey, the mother of four, is an editor at Living
the Good News in Denver, Colorado. She has won numerous writing awards. Her
newest book is The Art of Faith (Twenty-Third Publications,
2007).
Next: Thou Shalt Reverence the Earth
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• What are some of your deepest longings? How do these desires reflect God’s desire for you?
• What do you have more of than you need? How can you reduce the size of your collection and/or share it with others? |
Collecting Stuff
By Jeanne Hunt
One gorgeous autumn day some years ago, my daughter
Allison and I were enjoying a visit to a small town filled
with shops and antique stores. After an hour of perusing
the stores, I began to grow impatient. She was inspecting every
little teacup and heirloom hankie. When I tried to hurry her
along she became indignant and responded,“Mother, you have
your stuff. I am just beginning to get mine.”
On the way home she explained her philosophy: We spend the
first part of life gathering our possessions, the second part enjoying
them and the third part giving them away.
In other words, life is all about your stuff.
This story reminds me yet again how we
pass on our values to our children. When we
put emphasis on a particular way of living, we
can expect our children to do the same. It is
subtle and enduring. Children are sorting out
what they see and hear, and deciding how
they want to live. It is our role as parents to
offer formation that is grounded in values that are consistent
with our faith. Coveting things, whether they belong to our
neighbor or simply entice us from a shop window, leads us right
into the hands of our consumer society. Our society preaches
that things will make us happy. Our faith teaches us quite the
opposite—that happiness is found not in acquiring things but in
knowing Jesus Christ.
We encourage our children to live without accumulating
more and more things by choosing not to live that way ourselves.
Family life should be more focused on people and times shared
than on getting the next addition to our pile of stuff. My daughter
taught me a valuable lesson that day. Over the years I had
inadvertently preached the wrong message as she watched me
collect my stuff.
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As a family, give or throw away three things every day for a month. Watch your house come to order and your spirits release that tight grip on material possessions.
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Hairspray
By Frank Frost
The old-time movie musical is
back, at least one more time.
Hairspray fairly exults in
life, lifting movie clichés to a new
level of art through humor and
unbounded energy of song and
dance. It’s uplifting—both in its
optimism and in its moral message.
Hairspray is set in 1962
Baltimore—before hippies, the sexual
revolution, the assassinations of
Kennedy and King, the civil-rights
movement, the Vietnam War. It’s a
time of big hairdos and rock and
roll. And it tells a timeless story—the struggle of non-beautiful people
to be recognized and loved. It tackles
racism, in particular, with a sweet
innocence that can only be celebrated
in hindsight.
Tracy Turnblad (newcomer Nikki
Blonsky) is a hefty teenager who
dreams of dancing on the local TV
rock and roll dance show, the
“Corny Collins Show.” The opening
dance number tells what an optimist
she is—singing and dancing “give
me a chance” down a street of rundown
row houses in Baltimore, of
all places, with rats at her feet, riding
atop her chariot (a garbage truck)
and arriving at school where she is
an obvious target of ridicule. But as
the music, lyrics and incredible
energy of Nikki Blonsky tell us, she
will not be put down.
When an audition opportunity
for the “Corny Collins Show” arises, Tracy’s size-60 mother (John Travolta in a fat suit) discourages her to protect her
from disappointment, but her dad
(Christopher Walken) urges her to follow
her dream. When Tracy does go for it, her
nemesis in both school and the TV studio
will be the perfect white girl, Amber Von
Tussle (Brittany Snow), along with
Amber’s mother (Michelle Pfeiffer),
who is also the station manager and show
producer. They will use any tactic to stop
Tracy from threatening Amber’s “entitlement”
to stardom.
Woven into Tracy’s tale is a parallel
story of rejection based on race. Tracy is
rejected at her first audition, even
before she dances, because she
answers a firm yes to the question,
“Would you swim in an integrated
pool?” The table turns when she is
later chosen to join the show because
of a dance routine she learns from a
black boy in school. The “Corny
Collins Show” has a “Negro Day” once
a week, hosted by Motormouth Maybelle
(Queen Latifah). When Negro Day is cancelled,
Tracy inspires a protest march that
leads to a series of events culminating in
the live dance-off for Miss Teenage
Hairspray (and a reprise of John Travolta
doing the kind of dancing that helped
make his career).
Directed by Adam Shankman, with
music by Marc Shaiman, Hairspray is
irrepressible, with seemingly nonstop
song and dance numbers. In the final
dance number Tracy sings, “You can’t stop
my happiness because that’s just the way I
am” and “You can’t stop time as it comes
speeding down the track.”
We can use that sort of affirmation of
human dignity and optimism in the face
of change today.
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What values do you find in this film?
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By Judy Ball
Blessed Francis X. Seelos (1819-1867)
Today, some call Blessed Francis Xavier Seelos
America’s forgotten saint. But anyone who met him,
knew him or benefited from his ministry was transformed
simply by being in his presence. His kindness,
cheerfulness and holiness were transparent.
Born in Bavaria, Germany, F.X. Seelos began studies for
the diocesan priesthood. After becoming acquainted with
Redemptorist missionaries’ work among the most abandoned,
he entered the congregation and prepared to serve
German-speaking immigrants in the U.S. He arrived in
New York in 1843 and was ordained the following year.
For the next 25 years, he worked in parish ministry in
the East and Midwest and served at Redemptorist seminaries.
Ministering alongside him during some of those years,
and also serving as his spiritual director and confessor, was
a fellow Redemptorist we now know as St. John Neumann.
Though he excelled at all he did, Father Seelos was especially
beloved as a confessor who could “read hearts.” He
spent long hours in the confessional listening to troubled
souls. His goal was to lead
penitents to the merciful
Jesus.
In the midst of the Civil
War, while he was a seminary
rector, Father Seelos
pleaded with Abraham
Lincoln to exempt
Redemptorist seminarians
of draft age from being
called to service. In the end,
his request was honored.
After the war, Father
Seelos was transferred to serve at the Church of St. Mary of
the Assumption in New Orleans. After visiting and caring
for the victims of yellow fever in the city, he died of the
disease himself—just shy of his 49th birthday.
Francis X. Seelos was beatified in 2000. His feast day is
October 5.
Father Byron Miller, C.SS.R.
There’s a line between hope and
confidence. Redemptorist
Father Byron Miller crossed it
some time ago. As one of two people
in his congregation officially
assigned to promote the canonization
of Blessed F.X. Seelos,
Father Miller is “thoroughly
convinced that
it’s not a matter of ‘if ’
but ‘when’ Seelos
becomes a saint.”
F.X. Seelos and
young Byron Miller
first met in the pages of
the monthly newsletter
his mother received from the
Redemptorists. He was certain to see
the name Seelos somewhere in each
issue. After he grew up and settled
on his own future—priesthood with
the Redemptorists—he read Cheerful
Ascetic, a biography about Seelos. “I
knew I had a friend. I’ve had devotion
to him ever since,” he told Every
Day Catholic.
Today, in his dual roles as vice
postulator and director of the Seelos
Shrine in New Orleans, Father Miller
is immersed in the life and spirituality
of the immigrant priest who
touched so many lives in his ministry,
particularly in the confessional.
The appeal continues.
“There is something about his
personality that makes him
so approachable for me
and others. Once people
get to know him,
they are drawn to
him. Each day I see
people whose lives
have been touched by
Seelos. It’s a boost to
my own faith.”
Before Hurricane Katrina,
the shrine had more than 25,000 visitors
each year. Still, the faithful continue
to come, some seeking healing
following diagnosis with a terminal
illness. Meanwhile, Father Seelos
moves toward sainthood. The case of
a woman who recovered from
esophageal cancer after seeking
Blessed Seelos’s intercession is under
official review.
It’s enough to move anyone from
hope to confidence.