making a difference. Justin Knabb's blog

A reflection on human progress

 

I want to reflect on the idea of progress for a moment, but not before pulling out this (somewhat arbitrary) snapshot from my trip through Portugal.

So often, within in my mind, I keep returning to this moment on this very rock.  This was 2004, and I was proudly alone, just outside sleepy Salema on the Algarve coast, staring out in the endless Atlantic Ocean.  I sat there for about a half hour that day, intoxicated by the view, the solitude, and separation from society.

I feel the closest to God in these purely meditative moments.  To be still, to have a clear mind, to still be void of adult responsibility and burdensome obligations, to be in awe of my surroundings... it was a joyful yet fleeting moment to hold on to.  With college graduation just one year away, this was a moment I was fortunate to have, and a moment worth remembering.

Fast-forward a year later and, of course, the end of the innocence finally arrives.

It's hard to let go of that feeling of innocence, even several years later.  The hedonistic side of my mind begs for more spiritual and soft progress in my life, yet the pragmatic side begs for my attention to a sort of tangible, hard and definitive progress.  What that progress is, I continue to wonder about... as many people do, I imagine.  Am I meant to build another dime-a-dozen business?  Am I meant to one day enter politics and project my ideologies on to the world around me?  Am I meant to somehow turn my circle of influence into some (certainly unattainable) Utopia?

Before the pedestrian reader of this blog post wonders where the hell I'm going with this, I better introduce the essay that sparked my mind-journey for this afternoon.  Enter The Economist's Idea of Progress--a bold and ambitious essay that is immensely broad in scope.  From connecting Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden all the way to George Orwell's 1984 dystopia, the writer(s) seeks to dissect the meaning from within all the cluttered ambitions we seem to be chasing.

While my mind will always stray back to that peaceful and empty beach in Portugal on that idle afternoon, the mission for progress--in so many different forms--is what I believe God desires for me to focus on.  It's truly incredible to think of our unique roles within this continuously evolving world.  For, as the essay spells out, we clearly seek progress in seemingly obvious forms: economically, morally, scientifically, etc.  Yet, as we continuously discover, progress is our yin and consequences are our yang.  While we grow, we lose our past.  New values substitute in for old ones.  New priorities weed out the old.  Progress supposedly leads to prosperity which leads to enlightenment.

Yet our own, personal definitions of what progress is, and what prosperity is, and what enlightenment is are all purely unique as well.  Certainly Justin Knabb and, say, Hu Jintao could not be further apart, for example.  Or Che Guevara and Ronald Reagan.  Or Charles Darwin and Thomas Merton. The questions will always remain: What really is progress, why are we determined to achieve it, and what progress truly is good and true and right?

The question will linger and linger, yet this guy's personal journey continues.  And somehow, I keep thinking it will ultimately, inevitably lead back to that gloriously empty moment alone with only God on that beach.

Religulous

I just finished watching "Religulous," a documentary made by comedian Bill Maher this past year that questions a handful of the "popular" religions around the world.  He led a fascinating pilgrimage around the world-- interviewing Jesus imitators, rabbi's, Muslims, marijuana-smoking clergy-- in search of some answers.  His skepticism of all things religion only grew as he went along, and to his credit, he clearly did his research and went into each interview and house of worship with some thought-provoking arguments.

I am a proud Catholic, and I do not share Bill Maher's overall viewpoint that "religion" is, in itself, a bad compass for the world.  I do agree with Mr. Maher, however, that our religious compasses-- whatever they may be-- should always, always be vigorously examined.  It is certainly no small nor uncontroversial endeavor on his part to make a documentary taking aim at faiths that are the main concern of many people's lives.  According to some sources I checked, there are some 4,200+ faith-based groups in the world, comprising of about 90% of people on the planet. I respect Mr. Maher's effort (albeit biased and characteristically sarcastic effort) to dive in, explore, and make his atheist-perspective pilgrimage a public one.

My own hope for the world is that all religions ultimately focus on "love for our neighbor," which some of us call the Golden Rule.  Father Joe Mostardi, a Catholic priest who directed the Augustinian Volunteer program I participated in from 2005-06, once said to me that he believes all Earthly sins can also be boiled down to one foundational sin, "selfishness."  And, if nothing else, my own faith is a great value system in terms of how to live one's life-- one filled with love, compassion, and selflessness. 

In Religulous, I was reminded again that Mr. Maher is an expert interviewer as he crafted his questions in such a way that made lifelong religious pilgrims look like fools.  But one key point that he missed amidst his own thick cloud of doubt, I believe, was the essence of religious life that keeps people coming back again and again.  And that is love for each other... the sense of community... the exploration for understanding and truth... the wonder of our natural surroundings and the everyday miracles of life... the desire to know that our lives really do matter.

Mr. Maher questions how much better we would be without religion running our politics and our world.  I want to ask him back, how boring would our world be without our differing perspectives of a God or Gods, a savior, a particular "Bible," a set of values, a longing for community, a longing for deeper meaning.  Surely, we cling to our own religions and defend them almost blindly.  We believe the distinct traditions handed down to us are, in fact, true and that our distinct way is, in fact, the right way.  And our distinct religions can and do sometimes get a black eye.  Many Catholic priests-- among a majority of great ones-- have missed the mark and have molested young children over the years.  Many Muslims-- again, among a majority of great ones-- have missed the mark and taken jihad to such a radical degree that they desire to kill everyone in the Americas.  There are, of course, many more of these types of stories associated with any and all religious groups.

But are these inconsistencies not the hallmark of mankind?  We often need to be corrected; that is simply the way we are.  Yet it is not true that the majority of people will always naturally gravitate towards some faith or belief system the same way we would yearn for water in the desert?  Why fight this natural instinct?  Why not embrace it?

Why not embrace each other, and strive to understand and appreciate each other?  So long as the common law is a mutual respect for our neighbor, why not embrace our diverse assortments of religions?  After all, we are human.  We have our shortcomings, we don't have the answers, and we are all so, so different from one another.  Instead of cringing at other faiths, or faith in general, why have some respect and dig for the deeper stories underneath?

Perhaps it be a story rooted in intense experiences in quiet solitude while camping among mountains and grassy knolls and stars filling the sky overhead?  Perhaps a story of the utter joy and profound connection wrapped into a kiss?  Perhaps a story that captures the feeling that overwhelms you as you hold the hand of a loved one dying in her hospital bed?  Perhaps a story considering the daily and undying restlessness for realizing a greater purpose?

Mr. Maher attacks religion, but he's attacking the wrong object.  He's really attacking hope... hope in something greater than ourselves.  That's what religion really is.  The 90-some-percent of people on this planet that associate with a religion are essentially trying to associate with a sort of hope that gives them gravitas.  I say, thank God for evidence of such restlessness... thank God for such a sign of commitment and community... thank God for even giving us all life after all.

Faith the Dog

I know it's been a while since I've blogged.  Downtime is at a premium nowadays!

With all the election madness, people pointing fingers at each other, and just sour news begging for eyeballs 24/7, I think we need feel-good refreshers now more than ever.

My grandfather sent me this link tonight and the clip hit me like a ton of bricks.  Meet Faith the Dog and see for yourself.  This little guy really helped me put things back into perspective today...

 

Tradition... Thank God.

I am deeply proud to be a Catholic, especially a converted Catholic, and our annual Easter Vigil mass only reconfirms this in my mind. 

Tonight was awesome.  First off, my lifelong friend, TJ, was confirmed into the Catholic faith... it was a hugely proud moment to be there to support him, but it was also nice that in watching him take in the ceremony, moments of nostalgia kept flashing through my mind of my own experiences being confirmed last year.

Second, my brother, Tyler, joined me for mass tonight which was very special.  As his faith life continues to evolve, it's nice to share moments like Easter together and reflect on them afterwards during our car rides home.

Third, tonight was all about tradition.  Honest tradition.  Thank God.

As I said to my brother on that car ride home tonight, I feel like we are all starving for traditions here in the United States.  Almost everywhere we go, and in everything we see, we get such dumbed-down versions of culture and customs and traditions.  Examples: armies of advertisements numb our minds as they flicker across our screens; punk-rock and rap music drown out the graceful silence; get-rich quick schemes are grabbing for our attention constantly... and we eventually just have noise.  Static noise, everywhere.

The Catholic Church is an oasis amidst the noise.  As the Pascal Candle is lit and the lights slowly yet powerfully fill the sanctuary...

...as we listen to sacred Scripture that has been passed down through the centuries, telling us the Good News of Jesus' resurrection...

...as the Litany of Saints plays and we plead our departed spiritual heroes to pray for us...

...as our friends are baptized and, in the process, we feel re-baptized...

...as we hold our neighbors' hands firmly as we proudly sing the Lord's Prayer and shortly after share in the Eucharist...

... we are liberated.  We join together as a spiritual community, we remember those who have gone before us and have paved this path... they give us permission to stand on their shoulders and grow closer to understanding God... we are liberated.

It's in the traditions that I believe we connect to our past, inspire our present, and carry forward into our future.  It's in the traditions that we get lost in euphoria, that we put our watches aside and truly connect with the Vigil service.  It's in the traditions that we unite not under some fleeting human-concocted visions, but under a creed that our ancestors laid out with the help of God, over time, over centuries and over much blood, sweat, tears, and hard love.

I feel that I have come to know God better through the graces of the Catholic tradition.  Everything is symbolic.  Every ritual is purposeful.  Everything connects us here and now, and with our sacred past.  And, for us, it's all rooted and tied-up in Jesus Christ, in our God, in the Holy Spirit that pervades our everyday lives, and the love and concern we have for each other.

As the Monsignor said tonight... let's let the six-week party of Easter begin.  What better time than now to fill our days with nothing less than optimism and hope for great days ahead and forever.

Mike Huckabee, Part III

You really gotta hand it to Mike Huckabee.  The guy has courage, and the guy cuts through the political mumbojumbo and speaks his mind honestly.

Contrary to his sarcastic ad starring Chuck Norris, his eloquent response to the human evolution question was right on target...

Gratefulness

Life is a miracle and a blessing.  This short clip, narrated by a Benedictine monk, reminds us of just that.

Opening My Eyes Again

Since moving out of the Augustinian monastery in San Francisco four months ago, it has been a considerable challenge incorporating prayer and reflection into my daily life.  Life was so spiritual during my year in the monastery.  We started our days with mass at 6am and concluded our days with prayer after dinner.  Cooking was prayerful, cleaning was prayerful, and even social hours were prayerful.  My housemates and I maintained a conscious prayerfulness in everything we did.  Virtually all of our activities and conversations were ultimately geared towards our desire to constantly become better people and followers of God, celebrating the lives we've been given, and making a positive difference to others.  My year with the Augustinians in San Francisco was no doubt one of the best years of my short life.

With that said, I have really ached for the presence of God in my life again lately.  Finding God in my day-to-day work in our business, in my revitalized weekend party lifestyle, and quiet mornings without mass has not been easy while returning to the more "ordinary life" in Reading.

Then I re-discovered Villanova, my alma mater, this past weekend.  Villanova always feels like home to me.  Just after a late night out in Manayunk, I woke up thinking I had to do something extraordinary to get back on track.  Fortunately, the 10:30am mass back at Villanova with Father Rich O'Leary was a perfect first step.

Sunday's readings and Gospel were incredibly moving.  Jesus' message was an important call to humility:

Luke 18: 9-14 - Jesus addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else.  "Two people went up to the temple area to pray; one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector. The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself, O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity -- greedy, dishonest, adulterous -- or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.’  But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed,'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.'  I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former; for whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted."

As Fr. Rich emphasized in his homily, we all need God and we all need humility.  We need to stray from judgments even in the midst of, well, judging others in day-to-day life.  In other words, we are no more righteous than the person next to us.  We might pray often, we might know Scripture inside-and-out, we might live in a monastery... even so, God and Gospel and LIFE humble us when we truly, truly, truly open our eyes.  I'm trying my best to keep mine wide open again...