He begins, saying, "I'm not big on conducted retreats where a priest tells you what to think and do. I'm sure they're ok, but not for me. What do I do on retreat? Sleep, read, pray, walk around and look out the window." I agree, and that, in large part, is why I am currently in Hawaii.
After Mass and breakfast this morning, I went for a two-hour walk, maybe more, before returning to the Cathedral to celebrate the Noon Mass.
My desire to move to Hawaii is no secret to anyone who knows me. It is stronger than my desire to return to Quincy and even than my desire to live in Rome. If Bishop Lucas were to allow me to transfer to Hawaii, I would do so in an instant, leaving all of my things behind and never sending for them (with feigned apologies to everyone who would have to sort through them!). But that isn't going to happen.
These were my thoughts during my morning walk. I find that walking can be very good for prayer, even in the midst of downtown Honolulu. Walking seems to free me up from other distractions and concentrates my thought.
As I walked along I began to consider the attachments that I have in life. I've been rather an independent spirit since my father died, not keeping too attached to many people (for better or worse) or things, knowing that all things fade away at some point. Being so detached doesn't afford me huge numbers of friends (which is fine by me; I much prefer a few close friends) but it does seem to help free me up more and more to carry out whatever work it is that the Lord desires of me.
For the past several weeks I've been preaching, "The question to ask in life is not what I want of my life, but what God wants of my life." It's often been said that a preacher preaches first to himself, then to others. True enough. What does God want of me, at this moment?
For whatever reason God does not want me to reside in Hawaii, but he will permit me a few visits here, and for these I am deeply grateful, more than words can say. But even as I am happily here again it seems somehow strange.
To be truthful, I've known this for a while, but for whatever reason it hadn't sunk into my soul. Perhaps I was too attached to the notion of life without arthritis.
In his post on looking out windows, Fr. Longenecker said this about detachment:
Detachment is not hating physical things and things of this world. It is loving them the right way. Love all things according to their worth. Aha. There's the trick. We have to be able to discern the true worth of all things before we can love them according to their true worth.
The only way to learn the true worth of anything is to hold it up to the light of God and squint at it the way a jeweler squints at a diamond, and maybe you have to wear one of those eye piece magnifying glass things which is also called prayer. Then in the light of Christ the true value of everything is exposed for what it is, and then you can love it accordingly.
My little walk this morning helped me to hold up to the light my present assignment and my present residence, and I think I was able to see it more clearly for what it is, and to recognize more deeply the Lord's will in it.
As I walked into the baggage claim area at the airport yesterday afternoon countless memories came to mind of the World Youth Day pilgrimage and our time in Hawaii. The young pilgrims want to return to Hawaii with me and I'd love to bring them again, perhaps after Father Damien is canonized. The more I wandered around this morning the more memories came to mind.
Already I miss the daily interaction with the students at the high school. I've become rather fond of them and some are seeking my advice and counsel on matters about which I didn't quite think I'd be consulted. It's very humbling, really, to know that for reasons that escape me, the young people have taken to me and I to them. The Lord has shown his willingness and desire to use me to lead them closer to himself. Although I don't quite understand the methods the Lord uses, the fruits are obvious.
I am confident that at this moment in my life the Lord wants me to be in Effingham and to minister to the youth. And I am content with this and - though I am naturally elated to be in Hawaii - I will be happy to return to Effingham (though not to the cold!).
Upon returning from the World Youth Day I had resolved to minister more to the youth and also to begin podcasting. Both of these I have done, to greater and lesser degrees, and with greater and lesser successes. Podcasting was my own initiative (and I know I'm one homily behind yet), but the increased ministry with the youth was much more an initiative of the young people thesmeves, or of the Lord through them. The Lord has confirmed for me this first resolution, and there is still much work to be done and I pray that he gives me the strength and the grace to do it, and to do it well.
On the flight from Portland to Honolulu, I was reading a book on the dreams of Saint John Bosco, whose patronage and intercession I have increasingly been seeking (the most frequent intercessors I seek are Saints Francis of Assisi, Clare of Assisi, Anthony of Padua, Damien of Molokai and, now, John Bosco; our Blessed Mother goes without saying).
At any rate, as I read I came across this quotation from the Apostle to Youth that particularly struck me:
Courage. Let us work wholeheartedly for youth. Let us do all we can for God's glory and the welfare of souls. Up there a great reward awaits us, the same as promised to Abraham: "I am ... your reward exceeding great" (Genesis 15:1). At times we may feel tired, exhausted or overwhelmed by ailments, but we must take heart, because up there we shall rest forever.
Amen.
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