intramuralist ™

It is no secret that the Intramuralist loves the question mark. It’s the only punctuation piece that invites an answer (… and we wonder why we keep conversationally shutting down one another…).

With a search spanning the pages of Facebook, Forbes, Readers’ Digest, and my own, etc. — recognizing that some of life’s questions are oft related to the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat — I found myself pondering the following…

… especially in regard to the current socio-political climate that is less than conversational… less than respectful… less than inviting… less than good…

(… yes… less than good…)

1. What are the questions we each must answer?
2. What am I pretending not to know?
3. What are my values and am I being true to them?
4. What — or who — am I living for?
5. In what ways am I being perceived, that I’m not aware of?
6. In what ways am I being deceived, that I’m not aware of?
7. Do I honor the authorities in my life? Am I actually willing to acknowledge authority?
8. Where are my blindspots?
9. What is wrong with the world?
10. How can what’s wrong be made right?
11. Is money the root of all evil?
12. What is the definition of evil?
13. Where am I less than patient?
14. Where am I withholding grace? From whom am I withholding grace?
15. What don’t I know, that I don’t know?
16. Would I be focusing on the same things today if I knew I was dying tomorrow?
17. How would my role models act and carry themselves?
18. Who is God and what does he ask of me?
19. Is there anything within my control that I need to change today?
20. Where have I been unkind?
21. Where have I been discriminatory?
22. Where have I been awful to the person who doesn’t think like me?
23. Who has the right — and the ability — to judge?
24. Where am I being judgmental? … and…
25. What did I learn today?

(… hopefully something…)

Respectfully…
AR

[This is a tough day for the Intramuralist. But this post originally published in January of 2016 makes me feel a little better, as it’s one of my all time favorites. I apologize for the repeat; however, some stories are worth sharing far more than once…]

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A little less than a year ago, I had one of the best worst weeks of my life… as nothing prepares you for the passing of a loved one. Nothing. The only thing that makes the unbearable pain bearable is a faith that is grounded in wisdom and hope — and speaks of something greater than the circumstances at hand.

My younger sister passed away early that Monday morning. My family and I had long planned to fly to NYC on Thursday, as my teenage son and his talented show choir were set to dance on the prestigious, Lincoln Center stage on Friday. Hence, the celebration of Nicole’s life was moved to Sunday, which meant much travel (and even more emotion) packed into a few short days.

Unfortunately that Thursday morning, the undesired occurred again; in our midwest city of often sporadic weather, we were experiencing a blizzard-like storm that included over 9” of snow. Perhaps minor for our friends in Boston and Colorado Springs, 9” can be paralyzing in Cincinnati.

With the storm extending across the entire East coast, flights were being cancelled by the minute; one by one, we would hear disheartening news of another show choir family unable to make this once-in-a-lifetime trip. For some odd reason, our morning flight took off, relatively on time.

Save for my grieving heart, the flight itself was fairly smooth — that is, until we approached LaGuardia. We were immediately placed into an hour long holding pattern, as the airport had closed in order to plow the runways. Unbeknownst to us at the time, after that hour, the airport had actually reopened, but the first Delta flight attempting to land skidded right off the runway, crashed through a fence, and came to rest with the plane’s nose extending out over the adjacent bay of water. Thank God no life-threatening injuries occurred.

Needless to say, our Delta flight was then told the airport was closed. With the storm intensifying and more airports closing, we wondered if they would return us home. After more delay, we were told we would be landing at Bradley International — although most of us knew not where that was.

Once landed (in Hartford, CT, no less), we found ourselves in a sea of stranded others… so many questions and confusion. Airline reps attempted to be clear; maybe busses would come; maybe they could get us to our desired destination sometime today. There were too many “maybes.”

Yet there amidst the hundreds stranded, we were given a blessed gift. Three other show choir families were experiencing the same flight and plight: two sets of parents, one set of grandparents. We recognized one another, but previous to this moment, I did not know them well. We huddled, put our minds together, assessing our options.

Deciding to take things into our own hands, we walked and talked. As a group, we shared all this unexpected, significant emotion… the challenge of being diverted… the fear of being stuck… the concern for our friends traveling alternate routes… the empathy for our friends no longer able to come… and the worry for our kids, who were separately en route. There was so much deep, dichotomous emotion — almost too much to handle.

“Too much to handle” for me was all this on top of what had happened earlier in my week. Thus, thrust together in Connecticut — feeling simultaneously totally overwhelmed and profoundly grateful — I couldn’t help but share the more prevalent feelings permeating my heart, that which happened before we ever took off. The way those men and women then reacted to the news of my sister’s death was beautiful… the tears in the women’s eyes… the immediate hugs… the questions, the sincerity, and the genuine concern… They loved this then semi-stranger in a way that was meaningful, authentic, and true. Any differences did not matter. They became, as I like to say, my best friends for a day.

Several hours later, we finally made it to Manhattan. The time included multiple phone calls, prayers, selfies in the abandoned baggage claim area, a drink in the pub, and then a two/three hour, at-times-treacherous but fun-filled van ride before pulling into Times Square near 5:30 p.m. As we each exited the van, saying “see you tomorrow,” we hugged one another, unspeakably aware of all the emotion the day entailed. Those friends will always be uniquely, deeply dear to me — what a beautiful role they serve… my “best friends for a day.”

Respectfully… with peace, joy… tears, too…
AR

He was born Richard Francis Xavier Manning, born in 1934, passing away almost four years ago.

According to his widely publicized obituary…

“Brennan was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. After attending St. John’s University for two years, he enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps, serving overseas as a sports writer for the U.S. Marine Corps newspaper. Upon his return, Brennan began a program in journalism at the University of Missouri. He departed after a semester, restlessly searching for something ‘more’ in life. ‘Maybe the something ‘more’ is God,’ an adviser suggested, triggering Brennan’s enrollment at Saint Francis Catholic seminary in Loretto, Pennsylvania.”

Manning — more commonly known as Brennan Manning to his loyal legions of followers and fans — seemed to find that “more.”

He left the Franciscans in the late sixties, joining the Little Brothers of Jesus of Charles de Foucauld, a religious order committed to an “uncloistered, meditative life among the poor.”

According to Wikipedia’s bio: “Manning transported water via donkey, worked as a mason’s assistant and a dishwasher in France, was imprisoned (by choice) in Switzerland, and spent six months in a remote cave somewhere in the Zaragoza desert. In the 1970s, Manning returned to the United States and began writing after confronting his alcoholism.”

By all accounts, Manning was a humbled, faithful man. He began writing… and writing.

He wrote many books, with his most popular being the bestselling The Ragamuffin Gospel, originally published in 1990.

There’s so much in The Ragamuffin Gospel that appealed to me then… and so much I find relevant still now…

“The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out…”

(… sometimes I indeed feel all of the above…)

“… In effect, Jesus says the kingdom of His Father is not a sub-division for the self-righteous nor for those who feel they possess the state secret of salvation. The kingdom is not an exclusive, well-trimmed suburb with snobbish rules about who can live there. No, it is for a larger, homelier, less self-conscious caste of people who understand they are sinners because they have experienced the yaw and pitch of moral struggle…”

(… sometimes it’s challenging to come to grips with the reality of our own moral struggles, much less anyone else’s…)

With all his wisdom, transparent sharing, and encouraging articulations, Color Green Films has actually made a movie about Manning’s life, entitled “Brennan.” The following quote is included; it’s also especially, seemingly relevant now…

“None of us has ever seen a motive. Therefore, we don’t know we can’t do anything more than suspect what inspires the action of another. For this good and valid reason, we’re told not to judge. Tragedy is that our attention centers on what people are not, rather than on what they are and who they might become.”

Read that again, friends…

… none of us has ever seen a motive…

… we can’t do anything more than suspect what inspires another…

… for this good and valid reason, we’re told not to judge.

And yet a lot of us these days — myself included — sometimes feel so capable.

Craving for more wisdom… recognizing the existence of ragamuffins…

Respectfully…
AR

You know the ones…

First… maybe my favorite…

He was an adventure-seeking youth…
… talented and professionally skilled.
At a young age, he was ready to leave home and lead others.
Granted, he grew up unaware of his origins, but his life changed forever, as he persevered through family tragedy.
He would then embark on an unprecedented journey.
He underwent extensive training and mentoring.
He began to lead others well — a sensitive leader… unquestionably instrumental…
He also had a solid alliance.
Granted, he had to battle many — and many of those came at a significant cost.
He continued, however, to persevere.
He did not shy from conflict nor temptation — and successfully overcame both.
His reputation soon became heroic.
Many even began to worship him, believing he would somehow save them. And perhaps, for some, he actually did.
He fought for the people… with the people… by the people.
He was one of us.

The second one…

He was notably different… darker, one might say… maybe a longshot.
He believe he was chosen — maybe the chosen one.
It was sometimes hard to see any heart.
In fact, some believed he was more machine than man…
… twisted and evil.
When his talents first became noticeable, he had to choose between leading for good — or leading for bad.
Power undoubtedly corrupted him.
He quit serving the people.
Thus, many were afraid of him — even those closest to him… if there was anyone close.
I would guess he had few friends.
He did have children — in which we saw a glimpse of his heart — but the time was fleeting at best.
He led most through intimidation and the instilling of fear.
He had no patience for opposing opinion or insubordination.
He had a distinct look to him, although his suit always seemed to augment his diminished strength and vitality.
For some reason, he seemed ever tormented inside… even if he faked it in his plethora of public interactions.

Maybe I’m wrong here, but my sense is we are so narrow in our view. We look at pundits and politicians, names and nominees — and feel justified in placing them firmly in solely one of the above two categories…

… as if one is all evil and one is all good.

But there’s a problem.

The above descriptions are fictional.

As described by “Wookiepedia: The Star Wars Wiki”, the above depicts Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader… yes, fictional characters.

Friends, we are omitting wisdom when we equate real life people and public personalities with fiction.

There is only one Luke — and only one Vader.

And neither one is real.

Respectfully…
AR