Dad’s Day
(Photo: Three generations of Christopher Willistons)
Forget Father’s Day.
If there is one thing that is abundantly clear, it’s that almost any old shlub can Father a child (I’ll assume that we’re both up to speed on the biology that makes this statement true).
Fathers are nothing to celebrate.
Dads are where its at. What we really need, is Dad’s Day.
Everyone has a father. I am one of the blessed who can say I have a Dad. Thus, in honor of the man who is my Dad and in challenge to the Dad I strive to be for my kids, I offer this small discourse on what makes Dads worth celebrating.
Dads know everything…sort of. The other day, Michelle was having a contentious conversation with our five year old, Emily. I can’t remember what the topic was, but, no matter what response Michelle offered, Emily pressed forward with questions like, “Why,” or “How do you know?” Finally, exasperated, Michelle responded, “Because, Emily, Mom and Dad know everything.”
From the back seat came a lie believed by anyone who has a Dad, “Um, no Mom, Daddy knows everything,” Emily said.
Without missing a beat, Michelle responded, “Yeah, well Dad tells me.”
Game. Set. Match. Point. Done.
I have rarely, if ever, asked a question of my Dad to which he didn’t offer an answer. It took a long time, but I eventually realized that, even if he didn’t know the correct answer, it didn’t mean he couldn’t offer a reasonable sounding alternative.
This is the beauty of Dads. They don’t have to be right. They just have to act like they know, like they’re some all-knowing, unassailable being of the universe. That’s what we want them to be, isn’t it? Thus, we are happy to give them leeway when they help create the illusion for us.
Dads are brave. They stare down spiders and jump off the high dive without a moment of hesitation.
When I was a kid, our alarm system once went off in the middle of the night. I lay in my bed, terrified, peeking out from under the covers. A few harrowing moments passed by. I heard footsteps in the hallway coming towards my room. In bursts my Dad wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and yielding a 2-iron. He moved with eerie stealth, checking to make sure all was well before moving forward with his SWAT-like sweep of the house. Now, I had seen my fair share of action movies in my day but, on that night, Jean Claude Van Damme and Steven Segal had nothing on my Dad.
That’s just how Dad’s roll. They protect the family from all brands of harm and rise to any challenge, using just the gift’s God gave them… or the closest golf club.
Dads are counter-cultural. Our culture laughs at Dads. They laugh at men who turn their back on the rampant pursuit of power, wealth and a constant line of women. In television and movies, Dads are oafish, emasculated, man-children whipped into driving the family mini-van.
Dads, however, are not intimidated by the taunts. They dance like fools, sit on the floor for tea parties, make it to practice on time and never let on that there are a million other things demanding their attention.
Dads are unselfish, knowing that the 5:00a.m. flight might hurt like heck in the morning, but catching it means having one more evening at the dinner table tonight. They are everything that culture tells them they aren’t supposed to be but everything that culture needs.
If only there were more of them out there.
To my Dad, Chris Williston V, on Dad’s Day, 2011. Thanks, not just for contributing to the creation of my life, but for making it such an incredible one to live. I’ll never stop looking up to you.
Some Thoughts on Heaven
The other day, my four year old son (Lincoln) and I sat on the floor of his room building Lego spaceships. We were talking about all manner of things, the kind of stream of consciousness conversations that only parents of four year olds understand.
Departing From the silly and futile, Linc looked up at me with a sudden rush of seriousness.
“Dad, I want to go to heaven,” he said.
“I know you do buddy, and one day you will, but right now you need to be here with me and mommy and your sisters because we love you so much.”
“But Dad, I want to go to heaven now and give God and Jesus a big hug and be with them forever.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. How do you tell your son that you’re so selfish you would rather have him here in the painful mess of creation rather than the resplendent presence of God? I mean, I don’t want to discourage his desire to go to heaven but I certainly have no desire for him to go there NOW.
“Some day, son,” I offered in a conciliatory tone, “some day.”
This brief interaction with my son got me thinking about heaven which, honestly, is not something I think about all that often.
Don’t get me wrong, my heart’s desire is to spend eternity in the presence and glory of God. I just don’t spend a lot of time and effort trying to picture it in my mind. For me, there is no fascination or fixation with the idea of pearly gates, streets lined with gold, angels playing golf in the clouds, or whatever other heavenly cliche that we’ve created.
A few weeks ago, an unknown number of people gave all of their attention (and money, in some extremely sad cases) to the “coming” of the kingdom of God in the rapture. The day came and went but the faithful didn’t disappear in an instant; they weren’t taken up to God’s presence to watch everyone else suffer here on earth. While, certainly, I share their hope and anticipation of someday being free from the trappings of life in the flesh, but I can’t help but fear that the constant longing for the presence of God in heaven comes at the expense of recognizing the presence of God here and now.
About 10,000 Fridays (or 2,000 years) ago, the cloth separating you and me from the presence of God was torn in two from top to bottom. Now it’s only shrouds of our own making that obscure the face of the divine.
There are moments when our pride and selfish stubbornness are momentarily forgotten and our hearts are set free to return to the one they know and long for. For me, these moments most often come in worship or adoration, in the full voices of a church singing “glory to God in the highest and peace to His people on earth,” and in the taste of bread and wine turned body and blood. But, the presence of God is not confined to those moments, those are just the ones in which he most actively seeks to break through the clutter of our lives and declare, “I am here!!!” He is found in the simple experience of life’s hardships and joys. He is found in the “least of these,” in our midst and in those we value most dearly.
I understand the preoccupation with heaven. But maybe we should ask if, perhaps, it’s rooted more in our desire to escape, to be in a place where worshiping God is easy, and we’re no longer encumbered by the expectation of loving our neighbor.
Yes, it will be easier in heaven. But that doesn’t mean we get to stop everything and just wait for eternal life to begin. It already has.
This Pilgrim’s Podcast – Episode #2
It’s time for another episode of This Pilgrim’s Podcast, the audio companion to This Pilgrim’s Progress. This week’s episode builds on the most recent blog post in its dealing with the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist.
Thanks to my good friend, Paul Johnson, who served as my conversation partner for this week’s show.
So, what are you waiting for? There are two ways to listen.
1) Listen online by clicking here:
This Pilgrim’s Podcast – Episode #2
2) Head on over to iTunes and download the show to listen to it on your mobile device.
This Pilgrim’s Podcast – Episode #1
As teased last week, and without further ado, I present the first episode of This Pilgrim’s Podcast, the audio companion to This Pilgrim’s Progress. This Pilgrim’s Podcast will, God willing, be yet another weekly resource offered under the banner of This Pilgrim’s Progress.com.
I am particularly thankful for the help of my wife, Michelle who appears as the first guest on this week’s show. I also extend thanks Jason Elizondo and the whole team of contributors at Austin Catholic New Media who helped me get all the technical parts in place to make it happen.
I hope you enjoy the show! Click the link below to play:
This Pilgrim’s Podcast – Episode #1 – Play Now!
On this week’s show:
Segment 1: Introduction of This Pilgrim’s Podcast
Segment 2: Chris and Michelle Williston discuss Shaunti Feldhahn’s, For Women Only.
Stumbling Over the Body of Christ – My Journey
In the past, I’ve talked a bit about the six years I spent away from the Catholic church; six years in which I completed my college and post-graduate education while working as a “licensed” Baptist minister. I have not written much, however, about the why of my journey that took me from the Church. This week’s entry on This Pilgrim’s Progress is dedicated to that journey and, in particular, my personal wrestling with the doctrine of transubstantiation – the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist.
I didn’t leave the Catholic Church because of some theological objection. I did not rail on the church because of its position on natural family planning, the ordination of women, its stance on homosexuality or any of the other popular reasons I so often hear people cite when listing their objections to Catholicism.
Simply put, I left the church because, in my eyes, it was old, stale and, yes, in the folly of my youth, I might have even called it “irrelevant.” The truth is, I didn’t even know what it meant to be a Catholic. I just knew that it seemed awfully boring.
When it comes to central Catholic beliefs, the belief of the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist is absolutely essential. I read recently that a survey of people of various faiths showed that 45% of American Catholics don’t believe that the bread and wine of the Catholic Mass are, substantially speaking, the body and blood of Christ. Roughly half of the people who fill the pews on any given Sunday morning believe that the bread and wine are nothing other than a symbol of the body and blood. For faithful Catholics, this percentage is nothing short of staggering. And yet, I used to be a part of that 45%.
Despite the fact that I had grown up in the Catholic Church and received the sacraments of the Baptism, Reconciliation, the Eucharist and Confirmation, I never “got” that the miracle of transubstantiation was taking place in the consecration of bread and wine in the Mass. I simply don’t remember hearing or ever absorbing that rather important fact. I can’t say for sure where the teaching fell through the cracks, if it was a failure of those who did the teaching or if it was my own foolish mind that never received the message. All I can share is where I was when the gravity of the Church’s teaching on this issue finally became clear to me.
For my sophomore year in college, I transferred from Auburn University to Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, TX. Soon after I arrived at TCU, I met the woman who I would, one day, call my wife. One evening, Michelle and I sat with one or two other friends, sipping on chai tea lattes in The Noble Bean, our favorite local coffee shop. I knew that Michelle was Catholic and although I was, by this time, a staunch Southern Baptist, we seemed to get along well enough.
Our small group sat, trying to get to know each other and, naturally, turned to the faithful Catholic “oddity” that was Michelle. They asked question after question, all of which she was able to tactfully answer after years of inquisitions in the bible-belt town of Lubbock, Texas. She explained some of the nuances of the faith and dispelled some common misconceptions, before the question of the Eucharist came up. It was then that she laid out the belief in the transubstantiation of the bread and wine into the body and blood.
“Did you know that’s what they believe?,” my friends asked, turning to me in disbelief.
“Oh yeah,” I replied confidently.
On the inside I was thinking “what?!,” but, I was a “former” Catholic and a first year Religion major so there was no way my pride was going to let me admit that I didn’t know that. When I got back to my apartment, I began doing research on this “crazy” theological belief, looking in to what various protestant denominations believed.
Over the next several years, the transubstantiation of the Eucharist became just one of many theological ideas that existed in the world of ideas that I explored more intellectually than devotionally. I never doubted that God could perform the miracle of transubstantiation; I just wondered why He would. Why on earth would Jesus say, “Eat my body,” and mean it in a real way? Did Jesus actually even say that, or was he speaking in a metaphor like he did in so many other ways throughout scripture?” In a time when my primary purpose was to explain and dissect articles of faith, I just couldn’t get my mind around it.
And yet, the body of Christ in the Eucharist haunted me. In the Baptist church we only celebrated “The Lord’s Supper” once a quarter, coinciding with the Sunday on which the church business meetings were held. The Lord’s Supper celebrations usually included a reading of an account of the last supper, in which Jesus instituted the breaking of bread in Eucharistic communion. As the passage was read, the congregation passed around a plate full of chiclet-sized pieces of unleavened bread and tiny plastic cups of grape juice. I remember, on several Sundays, sitting in the pew rubbing the bread in my hand thinking, “Would you, God, be reduced to such a form as this?” My heart leaned towards yes, but my mind was scandalized by the notion. I just couldn’t believe it.
In response to my personal crisis, I did what any good Protestant would do, I sought out a biblical justification for my unbelief.
In the days of the early Church, there was a debate as to whether Christian believers could eat meat that was sacrificed to other Gods. Some believed that, since the Christian God was the only real God, then Christians could eat whatever they wanted, because meat sacrificed to a god that didn’t exist didn’t really mean anything. Others thought they should abstain from eating these foods. In his letter to the Romans, the Apostle Paul addressed this controversy, saying,
“Welcome anyone who is weak in faith, but not for disputes over opinions. One person believes that one may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. The one who eats must not despise the one who abstains, and the one who abstains must not pass judgment on the one who eats; for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on someone else’s servant?”
Romans 14: 1-4, NAB
I saw the issue of the Eucharist in the same light. Some people had faith enough to believe that Christ was in it. Some people didn’t. But, what did that say about me? Was I okay being the person who is “weak in faith?”
This question plagued me because, when it comes right down to it, belief in Christ’s presence in the Eucharist is a point of faith. Catholics can’t prove that the substance of the bread and wine changes. Protestants can’t prove that it doesn’t. You either believe it, receiving the Eucharist, or you don’t. As with all miracles or mysteries of God, you can think and argue about it all you want, but you’ll never be able to logically prove that it is one way or the other.
By the time all of this played out, Michelle and I had been married for a few years. We were married in the Catholic Church but I, of course, did not receive the sacrament of the Eucharist. I was still a part of the “weak faith” contingency.” I was still working as a Baptist youth minister and, at that point, playing through this issue in my mind every day, trying to find some chink in the armor of defense on either side. Meanwhile, it’s like the words of Jesus were taunting me from the pages of the Gospel of Matthew, “Unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven” (18:3, NAB).
One afternoon, Michelle and I were driving back to the Fort Worth area from seeing family in Austin. As was often the case when I had enough time to think about it, this whole debate raged in my head. Over the debate and sound of tires moving along I-35 at 70 miles an hour, the call of Christ came clearer and clear…
“Unless you turn and become like children,”… “Chris, you’re not going to understand it.”
“Unless you turn and become like children,”…”my mysteries are too big for your mind.”
“Unless you turn and become like children,”…”I’m far bigger than the degrees on your wall.”
I turned to Michelle and, in leap of faith, confided, “I’m ready to come back in to the Church.”
Later this year marks five years since my “reversion” to the Church. I’m certainly not perfect but, in the presence of Christ, I’ve found the perfect place to be.
Brief Hiatus, But Good Things to Come
Sometimes writing a blog is easy.
At other times, trying to come up new and engaging content is a little like beating your head against a brick wall in hopes of making a dent. When those times come, it means its time to take a week off, recharge, read and get the creativity flowing again.
All of this is to say that This Pilgrim’s Progress is taking the week off from regularly scheduled posting.
However, I will be back in full force next week and will be rolling out an all new content piece to This Pilgrim’s Progress, the long awaited companion podcast to the blog. In a stroke of tremendous creativity, I’ve come up with the perfect name for the show:
Weekly Link Roundup – May 12, 2011
Does Catholic Social Doctrine Allow Us to Say that bin Laden Deserved Death?
There has been much written on the issue of Osama Bin Laden’s death, but if you’ve been avoiding reading it all, Catholic Moral Theology has a nice reflection on the justice involved in these kinds of life and death decisions.
When Was the Word “Catholic” First Used?
To be honest, I’m embarrassed to admit that I thought the word didn’t come into use until after the Council of Nicaea in 325.
On The Universal Religious Sense
Last week, Pope Benedict XVI began a new series of Wednesday audiences dedicated to prayer. This follows his extended series on the lives of the Saints. I found this talk to be particularly enjoyable.
Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl
I’m reading a great book right now that, in part, inspired this week’s blog post, A Little Wonder.... The link goes to the Amazon page for the book. The video below is a trailer for the book. It’s a randomly fantastic read… if you’re in to that sort of thing.
Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl trailer from Gorilla Poet Productions on Vimeo.
A Little Wonder…
It was a long week.
Work was busy. Traffic was horrible. I arrived home tired and grumpy.
The kids asked me to push them on the swing set in our back yard but I was determined to help with dinner. As is often the case, they won. After all, there is strength in numbers.
The lengthening shadows of evening made the air cool, almost crisp, especially for early May in Central Texas.
I pushed Linc “super duper high,” and suddenly he was transported to another place, flying the fastest spaceship known to man.
Emily climbed the swing chains like a trapeze artist.
Lorelei let out a giggle as my clumsy hands buckled her into her green plastic baby swing. The backyard filled with the incessant chatter that only three kids aged five and under can produce.
I tried to let go, to give myself to the moment. I faked it for a few minutes, keeping two swings and 2.5 conversations moving at once. Meanwhile, my mind worked to compartmentalize the work day that was and the evening that was to come.
Minutes passed and I finally looked down, catching sight of my youngest daughter, eyes closed, arms outstretched, head lifted towards heaven and crazy red hair blowing in the swing breeze.
“Yes,” I thought, somewhat enviously, “that’s what it’s all about.”
Detached from this moment, thousands of years ago, Jesus said, “I have come that you may have life and may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10)
A little while after that, St. Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is man fully alive.”
Curious he didn’t say, “the glory of God is man fully studying theology,” or “The glory of God is man’s intellectual seeking.” Personally, I fall in to the foolish trap of trying to find God in my own mind.
Today’s understanding is tomorrow’s confusion. That’s how it works with a God who wraps Himself in mystery. Our minds may bend towards the divine, but they pale in comparison to the power of our hearts set ablaze in wonder of Him.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us, “The beauty of creation reflects the beauty of the creator…” (341), but you don’t have to read the Catechism to know that. Your heart already knows it. The only thing standing between us and the full appreciation of this realization is our reluctance to look up to the heavens, stretch out our arms and feel the breeze blow over us.
Weekly Link Round Up – May 5, 2011
I read a lot. Truth be told, I am kind of an information junkie. That is not to say that everything I read has eternal value but, generally, I try to stick to things that stimulate my mind and my spirit.
I realize that all of the readers of This Pilgrim’s Progress might not spend the time and effort to find other blogs and great resources on the web. So, I’ve decided to go ahead and add a weekly post to help you look through the fog of information and find the good stuff!
Introducing the Weekly Link Round Up – a syndication of the most interesting content I’ve read online in the past week. I’ll include a bit of commentary on the links where I see fit. Otherwise, I’ll let these authors speak for themselves!
I hope you enjoy!
Hey Prince – Your Princess is Right Next to You
Catholic Dads has a reminder for all of us husbands who don’t always remember to value our wives above all others. Even the best of husbands need to this reminder every now and then.
Why (and How) Catholics Pray to Saints
Shameless Popery provides a great explanation of the fact that, in reality, we don’t pray “to” the Saints, as much as we ask the Saints to pray for us. It all stems from the fact that we believe the Church on Earth is united with the Church in Heaven. Definitely worth a read if you’re interested in “Why do Catholics do that?” type questions, or if you’re a Catholic who wants to better explain your faith.
Blessed Pope John Paul II: A Model for Husbands and Fathers
Another good reflection for husbands and fathers. With the beatification of JP II this past weekend, I really enjoyed Loving the Church’s reflection on how he was a model of Spritiual Headship, Prayer and Suffering, and how I can be challenged to be the same for my wife and children.
Confession: Thanks, But I’d Rather Blame the Priests
Are Priests even more disinterested in the sacrament of reconciliation than the laity? This is the question that Rae tackles over at No Wealth But Life. It’s an excellent read.
Photo Credit: Priests Attend the Beatification of Pope John Paul II.
There’s nothing simple about love.
For that matter, there’s really nothing simple about marriage.
It starts out simple enough, with two people deciding to be together forever.
When a husband and wife speak their vows to one another on their wedding day, their primary focus is on the “together” part, the “to have and to hold.” That’s the stuff of romance and excitement. That’s the substance of their joy.
It’s the remainder of the vows, the “forever” (in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as we both shall live) that looks past the wedding, towards the realities of actually sharing and spending your life with another person. That’s the part that recognizes that, in every life and relationship, there are trials and triumphs. It’s the part that says, while we each might grow and change, we are committed to growing and changing together.
The “forever” part is where things get complicated, where people lose their focus and resolve, only to wake up one morning and ask of their spouse, “who is this person who lives in my house?”
For the past five weeks, we’ve looked at the variety of reasons that couples, who once started out with all of the love and promise of forever, end up with a relationship in shambles, broken down and fractured. We’ve considered questions of identity, of understanding who we are in the image of God and how we were created to live in marriage. We’ve looked at our unrealistic expectations of living marriage like a partnership and considered the many ways that distractions seep in to our daily lives and keep us from ever really connecting.
The simple fact is that, when couples feel like they lose connection with one another, they tend to strike out in other directions. Soon, “who is this person who lives in my house?” turns in to, “we just fell out of love.”
These are words of justification, but I’m not even really convinced that people know what they mean when they say them.
Does, “we just fell out of love,” mean that you’re just not committed each other anymore? Do you no longer enjoy each other’s presence? Does it mean you don’t have sex anymore?
What is love, after all? And how do we fall in and/or out of it?
In order to change the way we thing about and remain committed to our marriage relationship, we have to consider the way we think and talk about love itself. We have to realize that love isn’t just one one thing, it’s multidimensional and, unless we are able to realize some vision of each dimension, then our life of love will simply fall out of balance.
For more on this, I turn the remainder of the post (with the exception of your challenge) over to a video by Rob Bell (pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, MI).
Rob has been in the news quite a bit lately, as his new book has sparked a firestorm of debate about the doctrine of Hell. If you’ve paid any attention to that, put it out of your mind and consider the video below, a video from the NOOMA series.
Challenge
Consider the three types of love (raya-friendship love, ahavah-faithfulness love, dod-sexual love). Without discussing it with your spouse, determine which aspect of love needs strengthening in your marriage. DO NOT TELL YOUR SPOUSE WHICH ASPECT YOU’VE IDENTIFIED.
Over the next month, look for ways to pay attention to/enhance that aspect of your life together.
