Time for Silence

Due to course I took last semester that covered Josef Pieper’s Liesure: the Basis of Culture and having recently been reading Pope Benedict XVI’s new encyclical Caritas in Veritate, I have been noting various parallels that run between the two. Pieper essentially argues in his work that if one does not get liesure right, one will never get work right. Individuals and society must first be in silence, receive the truth for its own sake, and work must be in line with this truth. Similarly, in the Holy Father’s work, there is this primacy that is given to liesure. In so much as our work is necessary and good, it must flow out of and be directed towards that which we have received from Christ. It is in the silence of study and prayer that one discerns the truth of God and his infinite goodness and love. The silence of study and prayer also reveals the truth about man. This truth is especially needed in our current time of various crises. The Holy Father says to this point, “The crisis thus becomes an opportunity for discernment, in which to shape a new vision for the future [author’s emphasis]” (pp. 21, Pope Benedict XVI). While some may be inclined to shout for actions to be taken, Benedict is calling for just the opposite.

Silence is a difficult thing to have in our time. Often, we Americans view times of silence with dread. In silence we submit to moments where we are forced to engage with the eternal. We are forced to ask the questions that can seem nearly impossible to answer. Our human frailty never does fully answer them. We face mysteries. Yet, this is the kind of activity out of which flows wisdom. When we wrestle with the paradoxes, we come to see the greater meaning and the end of all our actions, which in turn enables us to do them with greater wisdom. Though one should certainly not reduce the silence of study and prayer to its use, for God loves us and is not a tool, one will learn from them. Consequently, the whole of our lives are enriched.

Sunday in Stillwater

Leo's Cafè & Grill in downtown Stillwater, Minnesota. Callie and I had stumbled into this place on a day trip we took on Leo's due date. This last Sunday we returned to enjoy some of their delicious ice cream. We also discovered their killer chili cheddar cheese waffle fries.

Chili Cheddar Cheese Waffle Fries

Callie & Leo at Leo's Café & Grill

Leo's Café & Grill, Downtown Stillwater

Callie & Leo at Leo's

Statue of Angel, St. Mary's Catholic Church (Background)

St. Mary's Catholic Church, Arch

St. Mary's Catholic Church, Belltower

Grotto near St. Mary's Catholic Church

St. Mary's Catholic Church

St. Mary's Catholic Church

Courthouse, Facade Detail

Courthouse, Facade

Courthouse, Lantern

Church of St. Michael, Facade

Church of St. Michael, Facade Detail

Church of St. Michael, Belltower

Pardon Me, I'm a Baby

I have found that one of the commonest things that people recollect after having a newborn baby is how much they change one's life. It is a starker change than almost any other transition in life. The baby comes at some random hour, roughly predicted by a due date, and from that moment on, life has a different focus. It is necessarily different, unless one neglects the child. It is true particularly for the new mommy if she breastfeeds, who now must attend to baby's needs at least every two hours. Baby must be held at all times when he is awake. Diaper changes are in order every few hours with varying frequency. Sleep is inconsistent for baby, and consequently for Mom and Dad. If all this was not enough, there is the creepy reality that this eating, crying, pooping thing is a person, and as time goes on, the creature takes on personality, and he is soaking in the world of his experience left and right, the presentation of which is your (the parent's) responsibility. If it wasn't enough to have to change and feed him, one needs to love him. All this imposes extreme change on the parents. Let's not put a glossy lens on it.

Yet, it would be silly to mope about these changes too much, tough as they may be. My new son may wake up five times a night, require me to change my precious morning routine constantly, and insist that it is a better use of my time to play "bumblebee" (running around the room while holding him and making a buzz noise with my mouth) than do anything else. In moments of reflection, I understand that never would I trade these inconveniences for a life without him. It is no joke that baby's are an inconvenience, but they are a good inconvenience, and not just because of the smile that follows a night with nearly no sleep. Those huge changes and interruptions are good in themselves. They cause me to reflect on who I was before my little son was in my life. How did I spend my time? This little one requires self-giving love. If that is at times a hugely uncomfortable change, perhaps I needed it. Perhaps, before he was born, I was not giving myself in love as fully as I should have been.

Photo of the Week

Leo Jerome Doran

The Golden City

“Man makes a sacrifice of effort and skill in embellishing canvas, stone, or metal. By embellishing them he gives them true substance, seeking the sense of permanence which is so much part of reality. His goal is to achieve dignity, invite aspiration, and perhaps attain glory. Man, in this way, reaches upward to the heavens, a striving not disdained by the majesty of God, as St. Augustine reminds us.”

• The Golden City, Henry Hope Reed, Jr. (119)

What happens when man puts too much value on convenience? This is a question I’ve been wrestling with for some time now. Convenience, as defined in the Oxford American dictionary, is “the state of being able to proceed with something with little effort or difficulty.” Convenience is a quality had by the supermarket, as it offers many foods in one place, as opposed to having to gather all the different foods of life in different places, which would be inconvenient. If one had to go to the chickens for the eggs, the cow for the milk, wheat for flour, and the lake for some fish, grocery shopping would look quite different. Recently, my wife got the new iPhone, and as many others will confirm, it is an incredible tool, making many aspects of life convenient! Weather, news, games, email, instant messaging, alarms, the entire internet, all at the tips of one’s fingers. One could get a Ph.D. from staring at one’s palm if dedicated enough. There is good reason to be psyched about all the advances in technology. Other conveniences of our time include, but are not limited to cars, airplanes, drive thru windows, and the list goes on. They hardly need mention.

With all of these advances in convenience, it is in many ways the god of our age. It something doesn’t make life easier, cheaper, or quicker, it is probably the wrong solution. Resulting is a the demonization of that which isn’t easy, quick or cheap. As all our difficulties are shown the door, we forget that some of the difficulties we face are good. These were the difficulties undergone as sacrifice. The permanent institutions of life deserved our sacrifice. Success in marriage and family life meant sacrifice. Fidelity to God meant sacrifice, every Sunday at least. Social concord meant sacrifice, in the form of some offering themselves to serve in government and in the military. Sacrifice is now something archaic, that has no place in a world of condoms, no fault divorce, and plastics. In Henry Hope Reed, Jr.’s The Golden City, the author makes it evident how the modern movement in architecture, focused as it was on functionalism (i.e. convenience!), beauty became the victim of our convenience worship. Beauty demands sacrifice, and it is something that is worthy of it.

Reed, quoting the italian architect, Leone Battista Alberti, writes “When we lift up our eyes to heaven, and view the wonderful works of God, we admire him more for the beauties which we see than for the conveniences which we feel and derive from them” (Reed, 119). Somehow, whether it is in the fast lane on the way to work, or sitting in front of the big screen plasma tv on Sunday afternoon, or flying the ocean in six hours, there are still moments when we know that these conveniences do not satisfy the longings of the human heart. We want more, and more will mean some inconveniencing from time to time.