You're Invited!

Have you ever received an invitation to a party or some sort of gathering and ignored it? Or worse yet, received an invitation that you accepted, and then as the event neared you wished you hadn't accepted the invitation? And then came up with an excuse to not go? I certainly have. And I've been on the other end as well, planning a gathering or celebration of some sort and sending out invitations that are ignored, or reaching the big night and people you wanted or hoped would be there didn't show up for one reason or another. That feeling of sadness, that feeling of rejection must be felt by God when we refuse or ignore His invitation.

Every day God invites us again. And every day we have to decide for ourselves whether or not we're going to accept that invitation. And many days we surely start out with the best of intentions. We may arise feeling thrilled to be alive and thankful for all God has done for us. We work through our morning and perhaps attend Mass, and we feel strengthened and renewed by having accepted Christ in the Eucharist. Maybe in the course of our day we're planning on visiting a sick friend, or calling on a relative we haven't spoken to in a while. And maybe throughout our day we say little silent prayers again and again for all the needs in our world.

But like any invitation to participate, things sometimes get in our way. We grow tired of the routine, the "everydayness" of what it means to be a Christian. We fudge a little here, fudge a little there, and eventually that little bit of fudging and avoiding and straying begins to become the norm. And it gets easier and easier. We create a new routine, a routine that encourages us to ignore that invitation from God. A routine that seems to justify in our minds that it's okay to miss this one party, that it's okay toss away that one invitation. Because there will be other invitations, right? Unfortunately, we can fall into a cycle of ignoring the invitation, and then we just stop checking the mail. Because we don't want to see what's there. It becomes burdensome. It is annoying. It has become junk mail to us.

But God continues to invite us. Despite everything we do that says I don't want to join the party, or "I'm sorry I can't commit right now" God continues to invite us. Because like any good host, God wants us to be there. God doesn't want anyone left out.

Accepting the invitation to discipleship is a difficult one. Christ spoke about this in scripture again and again. "Can you drink the cup?" "I am sending you like sheep into the midst of wolves." "You will be hated by all because of my name." When Christ tells the parable of the man who gave a great dinner party and people didn't come, he is speaking to us about the occasion to sin, and how it gets in the way of us coming closer to God. He is speaking about the opportunities we have to demonstrate our faith in God, and yet we allow ourselves to get caught up in the burdens of the world that divert us from God. He speaks of the desire for all of us to join him in heaven and yet we still struggle with answering that invitation. This is normal. We are, after all, human. And for us there are times when rejecting an invitation seems much easier than accepting it.

Certainly there are times in life when we thrilled with invitation, look forward to it, and have a great time at the party. And ideally, that's the relationship we want to have with God - excited, anticipating, joyous in participation. But there's one other invitation scenario. That's the invitation we accept, and immediately make ourselves crazy because we're sorry we did so. It's not convenient, it's not something we want to do, it's a commitment of our time and energy when we feel like we can't commit any more. But out of a sense of obligation we go through with it. And we get to the party, and have a great time. All our worries and cares and anxieties are stripped away and we just live in that moment.

That's what I think heaven will be like. We're invited to discipleship and it's always going to be a rewarding and sometimes difficult journey. And we may have ambivalence about accepting the invitation at all. But the promise of the big party is always there for us as believers. The promise that by accepting the invitation with strong commitment and excited anticipation we will some day meet our host face-to-face, and be welcomed with open arms to a joyous eternal celebration.

Roadtrip Spirituality

One of my favorite passages from the Bible is the Emmaus Road story. I've always thought that it encompasses the faith experience. At times, our hearts are burning within us. Other times, we're lost and afraid. And sometimes we feel as though our God has left us. But Christ is present at our side - even when we can't see him or recognize him - and it is in the breaking of the bread that Christ is revealed to us and strengthens us and sets our hearts on fire anew.

The Emmaus Road journey is the ultimate roadtrip experience. I have often felt in my ministry that some of the best catechesis, the best conversations, and the best explorations of faith happen on the road… walking, driving, flying. I've had profoundly deep conversations with people on pilgrimage in Germany for World Youth Day or on the streets of Baltimore at the gateway of Holy Week. Driving to and from retreats, where the "small group" discussions that happen in the car often surpass any session that may happen in the course of a weekend. Hiking in the woods, where the glories and subtleties of God's creation serve as an ideal backdrop for any conversation about God's presence in our lives.

My love of movies and background in film production got me thinking about the expression of the roadtrip experience - and spirituality - that is often portrayed on the big screen. While many might immediately think of more recent films such as the comedy "Road Trip" or culturally-ingrained excursions such as "Thelma and Louise" I gravitated more towards films that presented the roadtrip as an experience of learning and discovery rather than debauchery and intense drama.

Roadtrip films have long been a favorite of moviegoers. From the moment Dorothy stepped onto the yellow brick road until the flinging of the ring of power into the lava of Mount Doom the roadtrip experience has fascinated and engaged the viewer with tales of courage, adventure and escape. And the message - be it "there's no place like home" or true friends will stand by us when the forces of darkness are aligned against us - is revealed not in moments of triumph but in the journey itself. The journey of enlightenment.

Considering the spirituality of the roadtrip experience, I focused on four films which I built a retreat around for young adults. Each film I chose because they reflected different types of journey, different forms of spiritual enlightenment.

Our First Journey with Friends on the Road - "Stand By Me"

I have always loved this film. It captures the essence of the transition from childhood to adolescence incredibly well. It's about the indelible stamp that friends make on our soul for a lifetime, and that in spite of adulthood and distance we still feel their presence at our sides. Director Rob Reiner - whose other "roadtrip" films include "The Princess Bride," "This is Spinal Tap" and "The Bucket List" - creates a mood in this film anyone can identify with, regardless of where or when they grew up. Because the truths of that time in our lives transcend time and space.

On Pilgrimage with Others - "Heart and Souls"

This is a great undiscovered film. It pains me that so few people are aware of it. I hope that it's re-release on DVD earlier this year (driven, I'd guess by star Robert Downey Jr.'s recent high-profile films) will help this lovely little film find a new audience. Some have said it mirrors "The Wizard of Oz" in the way it brings together a diverse group of people on journey together and how they support one another and ultimately come to love one another. It's funny, joyful, and at times heart-rending. But the presence of God is woven into the fabric of this story, and it becomes clear this isn't just a film about friendship or reaching a destination. Most of all, it's about trust. Trust that there is a plan. Trust that in the end we will understand what God has in store for us.

The Family Roadtrip Experience - "Little Miss Sunshine"

I don't know that the dysfunctional family experience has been portrayed in a roadtrip film as well as this one. It has broad moments of laughter and pain that seem real and identifiable (as opposed to films such as "National Lampoon's Vacation" or "Are We There Yet?" where the comedy crosses from the familiar to the ridiculous, the pain from profound to slapstick). From the pre-tween Olive to aging Grandpa we see the spectrum of what it means to be a family and how difficult it can be to spend time with people you love but often don't like very much. And ultimately how the bonds of family can be stronger than any difficulty life may throw our way.

The Personal Journey - "Elizabethtown"

Sometimes we need to make the journey alone. We may receive guidance or assistance from others, but ultimately exorcising our personal demons comes down to standing our ground and facing who we are and how we are and what we are alone. Alone, except for the faith and strength we have been given by God and the people who care for us. "Elizabethtown" is about the journey of running away from one tragedy full into the face of another, and the cathartic experience we can have when we allow ourselves to be humbled and spent so that in the master's hands we can be forged so the fire burns brightly within our hearts once again.

As I reflected on these four films with others I realized that - completely unintentionally - I chose films that shared a theme other than the roadtrip experience. Death. Each of these films has death as an important component of the story. I began to wonder if it was the presence of death, the claustrophobia of mortality that makes a good roadtrip story better. I began to think of times driving from funeral to cemetery and all that ran through my own mind. Times when I wanted to comfort another and knew deep down there really wasn't much I could do to alleviate their suffering, but that being present to them had great value. The times in my life when I've been lost and alone and afraid and wandering my own Emmaus Road.

Even under the most difficult of circumstances there is joy in the journey. And that joy often doesn't come until we can step away from the experience, look back and see the whole picture. When we come to realize the presence of Christ that was with us when we didn't know it. The times when we have reflected Christ to others and didn't know it. The times when we came around the table and it was in the breaking of the bread that Christ became amazingly present to us once again.

Roadtrip spirituality. Taking joy in the journey. Opening ourselves to the experience. Opening ourselves to Christ's presence and having our hearts burn brightly within us again and again.

Sacraments on Demand

A few years ago we finally broke down and got cable TV. We had resisted it for a very long time. I was never that motivated. For one thing, because I worked in television for years and when I got home from work at the end of the day plopping down in front of more television didn't have a lot of appeal for me. And second, I felt like we didn't need any encouragement to spend additional time in front of the TV. My wife and I didn't need it, our children didn't need it.

But a few years ago we finally broke down. The kids were grown. My daughter was in college (and she lamented that we waited until she was out of the house before getting cable) and there were stories in the news about the switch to digital broadcasting, so you were either going to need to be connected to cable or buy converters or else buy new television sets. So we got cable. And it wasn't easy at first because we were apparently the only household in our neighborhood that didn't already have cable. The cable company couldn't imagine we weren't connected. But after some calls back and forth they finally came out and connected us.

And it's been nice having cable. I get to watch things I wouldn't necessarily see - movies, documentaries, cooking shows - things I very much enjoy. And our cable came with this very interesting feature called "On Demand." I didn't pay much attention to it at first. But I soon found there were times when I was in the mood to relax in front of the TV and there wasn't really anything on that interested me. I could go to "On Demand" and pick from a wide range of choices and "poof!" I could watch it. And this just amazed me - anyone connected to that cable system any time of day has the ability to choose something to watch, all controlled from their fingertips. No more trips out for a video rental, no more setting up my VCR to record a film at 2 in the morning so I can watch it later. The technology blew me away.

We live in an "On Demand" society, an "On Demand" world. It's not all that long ago that stores that offered convenience were only open from 7 in the morning until 11 at night - now they're open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I gassed up my car at 6:00 in the morning today. I carry a piece of plastic in my wallet that lets me have access to my bank account and cash 24 hours a day. And many times I don't even need cash - the little plastic card is all I need. I remember a couple times being up with one of my children in the middle of the night when they were very small and going and doing grocery shopping at 3am. The ability to do these things were unheard of not so long ago.

Yet as in love as we are with convenience and being able to acquire things on demand many of us have forgotten that our church pretty much offers us "On Demand" sacraments. I once heard it said that 24 hours a day, 7 days a week Mass is being celebrated somewhere. We as Catholics pretty much have "On Demand" access to the Eucharist, yet we don't always seek it out. The other sacrament we pretty much have "On Demand" access to is the sacrament of reconciliation.

In the Gospel of Luke a woman that has sinned takes advantage of the opportunity to kneel before Christ in contrition. It is clear from her actions that her desire for forgiveness is genuine. And Christ understands that. Others criticize, because in that moment Christ welcomes the sinner, welcomes one that others deem "untouchable" - someone to be avoided, to be scorned. Yet Christ welcomes her and in that gesture demonstrates that all sinners are to be welcomed. That by our faith we can be saved.

Reconciliation on demand. The church offers it sacramentally. Yet so many pass it by, even avoid it. And I can understand that to some extent. The act of baring your soul before a priest and before God can be horribly intimidating. Admitting our sins, recognizing failure can be a very difficult thing for us to face, let alone share with someone else. Forgiving ourselves can be the most difficult thing of all. I've always said God will never beat me up as badly as I'll beat myself up over mistakes I've made, sins I've committed, people I've hurt. And some of those transgressions - even though I know I've been forgiven - I will carry in my heart to the day I die. Because everything I've done, everything I've failed to do is a part of my being, a part of what makes me who I am today.

That's how it is for all of us. We're human. Failure is what makes us human, and defines our humanity. Those unwilling to admit their failures, admit their sins - step outside of themselves and take a hard look at who they are - are only deluding themselves.

Sacraments on demand. What a brilliant concept! To open up our souls before God in reconciliation, and then be deemed worthy once again to accept His Son in the Eucharist is extraordinary. And this "On Demand" convenience is not something that has been made available to us in the last five years, or ten or twenty or fifty. It has been available to us for centuries. Available to us to the end of the age. Peace, salvation, through faith. On demand. All we have to do is seek it out.