God doesn’t change

I’m in a course titled “Philosophy of God in Aquinas.” We are working through the Summa Contra Gentiles, supposedly written to be a handbook for Catholic missionaries. Slowly but surely, we’re dissecting Aquinas’ claims about the existence of God and, now, the qualities of God. The past few classes, we’ve been talking about the eternality of God.

Eternality is a difficult concept. It doesn’t mean everlasting, which is to have no beginning and no end. And it doesn’t mean atemporal—to exist outside of time. Rather, to be eternal means to have life and experience the fullness of reality at every moment, or something like that. Because each moment is a full expression of existence, there would be no such notion of past or present. Only now. And if there is only now in existence, there can be no change in that being, for change requires time. Therefore, God does not change.

If you didn’t understand that, don’t sweat it. Neither do I.

But let’s pretend for a second we understand that God exists, is eternal, and doesn’t change. If God doesn’t change, then why the hell do we ask God for stuff? Petitionary prayer is old as dirt, and sometimes miracles happen seemingly as a result of specific prayers. But if God won’t change God’s mind, what do the prayers really do? Do they do anything?

Aquinas argues yes, they do matter. They matter because God has always known what you’re going to pray for. God always aligned reality in such a way that your choice to freely pray and petition may change your earthly future. God has, therefore, already designed different worlds—or is currently designing different worlds?—where you get what you ask for and you don’t get what you ask for. Your asking may just make the difference.

I don’t know what I just typed. It doesn’t make much sense yet, but one day it might. I know that I shouldn’t stop praying anytime soon.

Time for Yourself

The root of the word “religion” comes from the word “relationship.” This is why faiths are called religions—because they support you in entering a relationship with the divine, with God. While spirituality on its own is an individual pursuit that lacks a shared vision with others, religion offers you every means necessary (from community to value structures) to convene with the creator. Religion contains spirituality, but not vice versa.

My girlfriend and I have been getting into more arguments than usual lately. We’ve also been spending a lot of time together. Today she pointed out that becasue we’re with each other so much, we don’t have enough opportunities to be with ourselves and grow. She said this lack of personal growth might be leading to a halt in our relationship, inevitably holding us both back.

My relationship with God has changed over time. Sometimes we’re best friends and do everything together. Sometimes we spend too much time together and I grow intellectually and spiritually stagnant. Other times I drift away from God to learn about myself, only to come running back into open arms, ready to rebuild and grow together again.

I love religion, and I love my religion. I love my God and I love my girlfriend. I love myself enough to be alone, to confront the confused and scared man in the mirror.

This is religion at its core. This is the practice faith calls us to.

I am From God

On the first day of class, my Anatomy professor told us that whatever affections, feelings, or emotions we’ve ever felt towards another comes from the brain. He assured us the heart doesn’t do anything but pump blood. I was about to ask “what about the soul?” but I wasn’t courageous enough.

But I’ve felt my soul. I’ve felt it in my heart. When I ask it a question, I feel reverberations throughout my chest and my body. It’s where I am. It’s who I am. It is me and I am it.

I believe my soul—and, therefore, myself—is from God. The reason I can’t get a grasp on my soul is the same reason I can’t get a grasp on God. There’s an infinite depth in my being that can only be described by a relation to the divine, to source, to God. My soul will always be with me but I’ll never fully understand it. I believe the same is true with God.

So I don’t give a shit about what an old pharmacist says about Me. He doesn’t know me. I don’t even know me. So good luck trying to understand me, Doc.

The 3 Foot Giant

Sean Stephenson has transitioned from this life to the next. He was born to rid the world of insecurities. He may not have achieved his goal, but he helped millions of people rid themselves of their insecurities and learn to love themselves again. The world will miss his big smile and enormous heart.

Here is his most famous youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaRO5-V1uK0

Lesson 1: Never believe a prediction that doesn’t empower you.

Lesson 2: You are not your condition

Lesson 3: The real prison is in your mind; freedom is within yourself

Wisdom beyond stature. Love beyond all odds.

Rest in peace, Sean. I love you, too.

Lake Bath

I’m staying in Lake George this weekend with my extended family. We all love each other. They live right on the lake, and today I chose to take a bath in the water instead of taking a shower. I washed my body with Trader Joe’s honey-oatmeal soap and I washed off my spirit with the waters of Lake George, thousands of years old and rich in history.

How many people have cleaned themselves in these waters? Who were they and who did they love? Why do I still believe that I’m more important than they were?

We are the keepers and writers of history. Our days become stories too rich to recite again. We choose what we remember and always forget the uncomfortable.

How can we make ours a story worth remembering?

Grateful for Another Day

I’ve been feeling a bit down recently. Sometimes it’s death that gets me down and sometimes it’s just small waves of inexplicable sadness. When it happens, I try to make time to be with myself instead of distracting myself like usual. Today I went to the park before mass.

After really thinking about my life, I made a list of the person I want to be and what that person would do. There’s a famous Matthew McConaughey speech where he says his hero is himself in ten years. I feel that. After making my list, I looked it over and realized how blessed I am to even have this life to worry about.

In that moment, I was grateful. I wrote down a list of 10 things I am most grateful for. 4 of those things had to do with the sacredness within myself and in those around me. I find that if I turn to gratitude in a time of distress, I’m less likely to be upset. It’s always a good answer.

Paved Over Graves

My grandmother died on May 1st. Sometimes I really miss her. Other times days go by and I don’t think of her once. I’ve found this to be a common trend in America—we are too busy to properly honor those who died and too preoccupied to do the inner work to deal with loss. Instead, we accept death but never assimilate it. We bandage wounds already festered.

I took a course called Death and Afterlife in Chinese Traditions last fall. Fresh out of graduate school, Dr. Aaron Reich was one of the best professors I ever had. I learned about Chinese burial customs and how nearly everybody in the Chinese tradition honored their ancestors. With plaques inside homes and names engraved in community ancestral halls, deceased loved ones weren’t forgotten like they are here. They came back—no, were brought back—to life every day.

Maybe our history as a nation has woven this death-denying, quick-to-forget subconscious. America used to belong to native peoples. Then we massacred them. A generation later and they were forgotten. We paved over their graves and desecrated their sacred lands. Now we are taught genocide only happened during World War II. It’s easier to forget our forebears who killed millions of native people than to honor them; that would be too painful.

Instead we drive over bones and dried blood, never remembering where we came from. And so it will be for us … unless we own our ugliness and begin to honor those who made us.

Put on the New Self

I heard a reading at mass today from Saint Paul. It read: “Stop lying to one another, since you have taken off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed, for knowledge, in the image of its creator.” (Colossians 3:9-10)

This speaks to what it means to be a human being, that is, constantly changing who you are. You aren’t the same person you were last year, let alone last night. Friends and family members often treat us as stagnant beings, thinking we haven’t changed since their last encounter with us.

But think about it biologically. Every time you move your bowels you lose tens of millions of microorganisms from your microbiome that have lived in you for days. The argument could be made that those organisms are a part of you because without them you couldn’t survive—they digest, metabolize, and assimilate your food. You are, quite literally, a different person after your morning dump. And you’ll never be the same again.

Maybe instead of wishing we could hold onto who we were we could better accept and embrace the New Self who is inevitably on the way. The only constant in our world is that everything changes, including you and I. I reckon we would be happier people if we treated others as New.

If we allow ourselves to be renewed with knowledge of what is rather than what we would like to be, that would be a pretty good start.

Everything is Sacred

A four year old kissed his mother on the lips during mass yesterday. It was during the most sacred part, the consecration. I’ve been going to mass every weekend since I was a baby. The Catholic Church has been my home and I’ve come to believe what it teaches—generally. This was one of the most profound experiences I’ve witnessed in Church.

It made me rethink what we hold sacred and what we value. Why is a tree more important than a church pew? Why do we think God is present at church but not in the kitchen? Maybe doing the dishes is as sacred as mass if we allow it to be. I don’t know. I happen to think being aware of the craftsmanship of God means God is present.

Some people call it *finding God in all things*. I just want to treat more things like they matter. I want today to be sacred even if it doesn’t feel like it. I want to believe that every single feature of this world is an opportunity to witness the divine, the God is us and in all.