Monday, August 11, 2008

A Complete Family in Christ

On Sunday, I sat smack in front of the Icon of the Theotokos, and a sweeter one of her I never saw, the Mother of every Christian. Then I contemplated the Babe in her arms, the imprint ("express") image, the very stamp, of the Father of every Christian. And then I saw that Babe as our brother, the Son who makes us all sons and daughters of His Father. And then it struck me that this Babe dwells in all of us.

Which means, no Christian is ever without father, ever without mother, ever without siblings, or ever childless. Christians are closer to one another in the Holy Spirit than they ever could be in the flesh.

While He was still talking to the multitudes, behold, His mother and brothers stood outside, seeking to speak with Him. Then one said to Him, "Look, Your mother and Your brothers are standing outside, seeking to speak with You."

But He answered and said to the one who told Him, "Who is My mother and who are My brothers?" And He stretched out His hand toward His disciples and said, "Here are My mother and My brothers! For whoever does the will of My Father in heaven is My brother and sister and mother." (Matthew 12:48-50)

Dad is Better

In fact, he seems to be back to where he was two or three weeks ago. Except of course mentally, but he was already losing ground there steadily. He's also physically weaker, but again, that was already happening.

Today Rossi and I (his private-duty aide) borrowed a "gerry chair," which is basically an armchair, a recliner, on wheels, and took him outside to the gorgeous garden. We bade him feel the breeze, look at the blue sky, the bright flowers, and the water fountain, all of which he did. He seemed to enjoy it. Even should this prove to have been the last time he is ever outdoors, espcecially if so, I'm so, so glad we did this. Mom and I are going to look into getting him a gerry chair of his own.

No time this moment to write more, except I hope to go home to Richmond tomorrow,

Thank you again and again for your prayers, and be certain I've been praying for every reader of this blog, as well.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Various News on our Patients

Dad seems to holding his own. Doesn't seem to be getting any worse, but not much better, either. Maybe a little. They still won't put him in his wheelchair, saying he is "too agitated." Not sure that's right. He doesn't seem to have any trouble breathing. No rattling in his chest. He SAYS he breathes just fine and gets enough air. He denies being in any pain. And only gets the morphine if he says he IS in pain. So as far as I know, hasn't had any since I got here Friday noon. I make him drink as much fluid as I can when I'm with him. He's eating well. Can't talk much, probably due to his dementia more than anything else. I have no idea how long he can last. Sometimes I give him a day or two, other times, a month.

Mom is fine. She has a brace on her left wrist to keep her from bending it, not because of anything broken, but because of a deep cut around the base of her thumb from her fall. She also has deep, gorgeous shades of blue, purple, and pea green spreading from the middle of her forehead down the side of her face to below her ear. Her bangs cover up the forehead; makeup helps hide the rest. Yesterday she needed my help getting dressed, but today she did it all herself. The swollen knee has gone down and she walks well. Last night she even went to a movie here on the "campus" of the retirement home.

Sammy is the infant squirrel I've had some two-and-a-half weeks. I've brought him with me on this visit to my parents. His eyes are getting ready to open. He is thriving and I take some small comfort in watching him grow. I brought along a big bottle of antibiotics for him, as I routinely do, because he is such a greedy eater that a time or two he has aspirated some of his formula and choked.

Yours truly is exhausted and suffering headaches a lot. But fortunately, I brought along a bottle of aspirin, good for the heart as well as the headache.

Confession last night, Communion this morning; God is healing me spiritually as well. Glory to Him!

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Here We Go Again

Dad is doing worse tonight. One reason is probably that he is still on morphine, which ought never to be used on the elderly unless they are in extremis. My pleas to get him off it are thus far to no avail. (He needs the morphine, I'm told, because he is in pain again. The pain, this time, is from constipation. The constipation is caused by the morphine! Am I in the Twilight Zone, or Through the Looking Glass?)

Meanwhile, Mom tripped over a cord in his room this evening. She's is in no danger, but is pretty badly bunged up. Wendy has taken her to one of those private emergency clinics, where they are right now, and is to call me when they get back.

Wendy is also flying out at the crack of dawn for her long-awaited reunion with her husband, after a six-year separation.

So that means I'll be heading up there in the morning, grateful for the opportunity to take care of Mom -- and Dad, insofar as I can.

Your Prayers and My Dad

This is part of an e-mail my sister, Wendy, sent this morning:

Dad seems to be making some sort of a recovery. Today he has a different look about him, still pretty lost but still with us. He is responding more to direct easy questions, still eating and drinking well, much more like he was just over a week ago. He isn't coughing now, or at least not much, though he still indicates pain from time to time. We have started thinking that much of that is when he is just upset and embarassed about not being able to get to the toilet. So we believe we will have him with us awhile longer after all.


Glory to God; thanks to you! I'm crying too hard to write any more now.

Who Said That?

And of what country or countries was it said?

1.) By the most brutal methods of terrorism, a regime sought to maintain an existence that was condemned by the overwhelming majority of its people. I have tried to persuade the responsible authorities that it is impossible for a great nation, because it is unworthy of it, to stand by and watch million belonging to a great, an ancient civilized people be denied rights by their government… I have endeavored to find some way to alleviate a tragic fate. One agreement was signed, only to be broken. I then tried a second time to bring about an understanding. A few weeks later, we were forced to the conclusion that the government of ____ had no intention of carrying out this agreement in the spirit that had inspired itm, but in order to create an excuse. I have determined therefore to place the help of our country at the service of these millions.

2.) We have no interest in oppressing other people. We are not moved by hatred against any other nation. We bear no grudge. I know how grave a thing war is. I wanted to spare our people such an evil. It is not so much the country of ____; it is rather its leader, _____. He has led a reign of terror. He has hurled countless people into the profoundest misery. Through the continuous terrorism, he has succeeded in reducing millions of his people to silence. The _____ maintenance of a tremendous military arsenal can only be regarded as a focus of danger. We have displayed a truly unexampled patience, but I am no longer willing to remain inactive while this madman ill-treats millions of human beings.

3.) The wave of appalling terrorism against the minority inhabitants of _____, and the atrocities that have been taking place in that country are terrible for the victims\, but intolerable for Great Power, which has been expected to remain a passive onlooker. We will not continue to tolkerate the persecution of a minority, the killing of so many, and their forcible removal under the most cruel conditions,. I see no way by which I can induce the government of _____ to adopt a peaceful solution. But I should despair of any honorable future for my own people if we were not in one way or another to solve this question.


[Scroll down for the answers.]
























1. Adolph Hitler, March 12, 1938, announcing the invasion of Austria. The next sentence he spoke was, ”Since this morning, our soldiers are on the march across all of Austria’s frontiers.”

2. Adolph Hitler, April 14, 1939, on why it was necessary to invade Czechoslovakia

3. Adolph Hitler, August 23, 1939, on why it was necessary to invade Poland

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Christianity vs. the Culture of Death

Elizabeth has a post, “How to Make Evil Sound Acceptable” about the euphemisms people who favor abortion use when discussing it. I’d like to tackle the same subject from the opposite direction: the slogans and phrases used by the culture of death concerning not the beginning, but the end of life.

First, this discussion should be prefaced by noting that for every rule, God's love can and does make exceptions, and so must ours. Every rule depends upon love (Matthew 22:38) and love trumps all.

Here, then, are some of the things urged upon us by the surrounding pagan culture; and here is how they contrast with Christian faith.

“We shouldn’t prolong a person’s life if –” wait! Stop. Halt. We’ll get to the “ifs” in a moment. But even before that, Christian teaching disagrees. You cannot “prolong” a person's life. It will never be longer than God wills it to be. You can either actively or passively shorten it, because God's will includes your freedom to do that, but it's a sin; it's playing God.

In Christianity, the right thing to do is leave it to God to end a person’s life at the time He knows is best. We do not presume to be wise enough, knowledgeable enough, or frankly, disinterested enough to know when that is. We do not take the decision out of God’s hands, for to do so would be to distrust Him. We support life to the best of our ability until God brings it to its close (recognizing that our ability may fall short of what it ought).

“We shouldn’t prolong a person’s life if he is in misery.” In Christianity, suffering has meaning. It even has deep meaning, precious meaning; yes, even salvific meaning. That is, suffering can actually be an indirect cause of our salvation. Dixie was kind enough to point out to me the story of Nun Synkletiki, who miraculously survived the collapse of that skywalk in Chicago, to illustrate the point that suffering, for us, is NOT something to be avoided at all costs. Go read it if you want to see some uses of suffering. Suffering can purify us, can provoke much growth in faith, in love, in character. I have a post on the subect here.

St. Paul writes:

We also glory in suffering, knowing that suffering produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us. (Romans 5:3-5)

It’s not for nothing that the very symbol of Christianity is the Cross. "They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts." (Galatians 5:24) "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." (Galatians 6:14)

“We shouldn’t prolong a person’s life if he has no quality of life.” The fact is that what the culture of death calls “quality of life” is subjective. We can look at, for example, a demented person and say he or she must be miserable, because we think we would be in the same situation. But the demented person more likely doesn’t have enough awareness of his or her circumstances to lament them – or at least will not for very long. As far as we know, he has no sorrows because he can’t remember anything sorrowful; has no worries because he can’t think of anything worrisome. As far as we know, but the main point is, we don’t. According to Christian teaching, even if we can discern what’s in a person’s mind, his deeper self, his soul, remains hidden to us, visible only to God. Maybe his soul, for its education, needs to experience what we imagine is a poor quality of life. Maybe his soul is rejoicing in affliction, as St. Paul describes. Christians trust God and consider it blasphemous as well as ungrateful to reject or (with rare exceptions) to fail to support God’s gift of life. Christian life, life with, in, and as Christ, is always worth living.

“I would rather die than have to be fed and bathed and dressed by others, and carried to the bathroom and have my butt wiped by others. That’s jut too degrading.” From a Christian perspective, such things are given to us to perfect us in humility, that cardinal virtue without which love is impossible, hence salvation is impossible (for to be saved is precisely to be conformed to and perfected in the love of Christ). Such indignities are to be borne with fortitude and patience. The Christian attitude is, “This is no more than I deserve; in fact, I deserve much worse.” The Christian attitude is that the all-loving God Who let this happen for our ultimate good knows what He is doing and we therefore accept any fate gladly, gratefully, believing it was chosen for our maximum benefit; that is, for the maximum benefit of our truest selves, not necessarily our animal selves. Furthermore, Christ Himself set us the example when He hung, naked, upon the Cross for our sakes. When we suffer similar indignities, we are imitating Him, we who are unworthy to do so.

And by the way, why is any of this any more "degrading" than, say, a Pap smear, a rectal exam, a colonoscopy, or lying on your back on a guerney, spread-eagled, bottom exposed, having a baby in the hospital? Or being a baby, for that matter?

“I wouldn’t want to be that kind of a burden on others.” The Christian experience – not just teaching, mind you, but experience – is that the more one loves, the less burdensome the burden is of caring for one another. At least, the less burdensome it seems. It may be physically and emotionally burdensome, but love lends it a unique delight, a piercing sweetness not to be had in any other way. To care for others, even when that requires much of us, isn’t some grim duty; it is true joy. It is the discovery of our best personhood. We are never nearer heaven than when we carry such burdens. We find self-sacrifice liberating and healing for ourselves.

Furthermore, to the extent we love, the person for whom we are caring will feel and know it. He will not be made to feel he is a burden. He will instead be someone with whom we share all our sorrow and joy, and all his. He will be an extension of ourselves, and we will be extensions of him, because we will all be cells in the same Body, the Body of Christ. We will all be partakers of the same Life, Christ’s life, the life of the Holy Spirit animating His Body. He and we will cherish every moment together, through every hardship and every merriment. My sister Barbara, as she lay in pain, didn't want to take much morphine, for fear it would deprive her of the joy she took in our company. In the end, she didn't even want to close her eyes even for a moment, "Because then you will all be gone." Love makes all suffering well worth it!

“There comes a time when we have to make decisions for the living instead of for the dying.” Note that as soon as we say this, we are giving up the pretense of acting in the best interests of the "dying" person. Can't have it both ways. Can't use both excuses.

The grain of truth here is that sometimes there is nothing we can do for the one seemingly nearest death, and must concentrate instead upon those around him. But we are all of us living until the moment of our death. We are all of us dying, too. And the person who never learns self-sacrifice will die without ever having fulfilled his own humanity. To be an authentic human person is to be a lover. To choose in favor of someone else, even at our material, physical, or emotional expense, is ultimately to choose in favor of ourselves, because our true, inner man grows and is made manifest to us only by being exercised.

“S/he isn’t going to get any better.” Of course, we do not actually know that for sure. But even if we did, it’s beside the point, for Christians.

“So are we doing her a favor by prolonging her life?” Yes! Not by “prolonging” it, but by supporting it and allowing it to be lived until its God-given end. Who knows what good, what precious moments, may also occur during those remaining days, weeks, or months; or whether the remaining time might make all the difference in a person’s eternal destiny?

In sum, all these pat slogans of the pagan culture of death, although they may sound pious on the surface, are actually expressions of distrust of God, rejection of His gift of life, rejection of His providence, pride, unwillingness to sacrifice for another or endure suffering for ones own growth. They promote an agenda that is thoroughly self-serving, yet for that very reason ultimately self-destructive. That is why they can’t help also sounding so smug.

Again, there are always exceptions. There are times when, due to human weakness and/or the imperfections of this fallen world, the most compassionate thing to do is indeed to let nature take her course. But such times are exceptions. When these exceptions become necessary, one should confess the human weaknesses that make them so. As in, "We simply cannot care for him any more. It is wrecking our marriage, our family, our finances, our sanity" or whatever. We should then go and do what is necessary, and best in the circumstances, but be honest about it, not using such slogans as I've noted here as excuses. If you consider yourself a Christian, take heed not to fall for them.

God Lets it Happen

Do check out Fr. Gregory's latest post. Christians all have to struggle, sometimes very, very hard, to forgive and to accept what we cannot change. I suspect it can't be done without remembering the wise words posted here.

God lets it happen - from His infinite, tender love.

Are we going to criticize God's love, shall we rebel against His mercy?

"Contempogelical"

Pr. Cwirla, a Lutheran, has posted a cogent critique of "happy-clappy worship" on his blog. While the Orthodox can't agree with everything Pr. Cwirla writes in this post, still he makes what I think are some excellent points. So do the commentators, in their replies to the post; read them, too, to get a better balanced perspective. Here is a small excerpt from the post.

Contemporary, Evangelical worship, what I call “Contempogelical” worship, is revival worship, the revival tent come to the stadium, turning the church into a concert venue. The intent is to manipulate the audience (aka congregation) into a certain mood, whether praise frenzy or prayerful somberness. Participation is individualistic - waving hands, rhythmic dancing, simplistic refrains. The focal point is the lead singer of the “praise band”, usually a drop-dead gorgeous female (aka Praise Babe) with a lilting soprano voice wearing a look of virginal innocence combined with a teasing come hither seductiveness. The songs fall into either of two categories - power chord praise songs that extol God in His majesty and glory or pop-ballad love songs, extolling Jesus as lover and friend. Guys put up with the latter category only because they think the Praise Babe is singing to them.

Revival always has a strong sexual component to it. During the “great religious awakenings” of 19th century America, it was noted with some degree of alarm that unwed pregnancies increased dramatically after the revival left town. The predatory boys knew to hang out at the fringes of the revival meetings knowing that the girls were ripe for the picking. It doesn’t take a libido-driven imagination to catch the same sexual undercurrent in a lot of contempogelical worship.


I just wish Rev. Cwirla wouldn't make the word "Greeks" synonymous with "enemies".

:-)

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

More Terminal Virtue

So you've repented and been cured of it, and I've contracted as bad a case as you ever had.

It always happens that way, doesn't it?

Kyrie, eleison!

Doctor's Report

Diagnosis: pneumonia

Usual treatment plan: 2 antibiotic pills per day for 6 or 7 days

Actual treatment plan: relieve fever, give cough medicine

Prognosis: death by suffocation, not necessarily soon

The Purpose of Life...

...is not to enjoy it.

The purpose of life is to have a share in God's own life, to be healed and glorified and deified, to be gods with God forever, rejoicing in Him (and also in all His works).

We can still do that when we can no longer play golf or bridge, can no longer knit or keep up our stamp collecting. We can still do that when we are confined to one room, or to one bed. We can still do that if our bodies are paralyzed, or even if they are burning at the stake. We can still do that when all else is taken away. Even if memory fails and language itself is taken from us and we find no words, the sweet communion of His Life remains at a level deeper than thoughts or words - the level where its seat always was anyway.

It is the Holy Spirit Who gives life, Who maintains life, Who makes life always worth living - up to the very moment when, in His own good time, He gives us a different, purer Life.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Terminal Virtue

So I don’t have the perfect family; neither do you. I still have to love them anyway; why won't you? So you don’t approve of what my family is doing; neither do I. But (until now) you had some moral influence; why did you refuse to use it to encourage us toward a better course?

You admit my being with my family doesn't compromise my integrity. So what's with yours? Why feel you must stay away? Why should being there for us, loving us, compromise your integrity?

Alright, then, go guard your virtue. I freely admit it's of a higher order than mine. Wrap yourself in it as a bright, shining cloak, handcrafted by you. We need you - so much! - but we shall manage without you.

In your virtue, do me the favor of reading a very virtuous chapter of the Bible: First Corinthians 13.

And ask yourself whether Christ ever kept Himself aloof from sinners.

I bear you witness: virtue that prohibits a person from loving
just
plain
stinks.

P.S.) Could I perhaps persuade you to go back to being a sinner, like the rest of us? You were kind when you were a sinner.

Hospice Care

Everybody thinks of Hospice as a wonderful organization caring for the terminally ill. I have a very different perspective.

A volunteer from Hospice (100% covered by Medicare) comes in every day to do things for my father, like bathe him, change him, shave him, brush his teeth – all things we are already paying others to do.

It’s a bargain with the devil. Because to be in Hospice care means you receive no pro-active medical treatment. You receive only palliative care. That’s fine (perhaps) if (a) you know what the medical problem is and (b) you know for sure it is terminal and (c) it cannot be successfully treated and (d) the patient is in misery meanwhile.

But none of that is necessarily true in our case. Nobody knows what’s going on with Dad, or whether it may be treatable, even perhaps quite easily treatable. Nobody’s finding out. He isn’t in a hospital; he isn’t having any tests (except to determine whether he has another urinary tract infection: negative.) He isn’t miserable. (At least, that’s what we’ve been telling ourselves for the whole time, over a year now, that he’s been in this nursing care facility: he isn’t unhappy; he’s mostly content. Okay, he has some unhappy moments; who doesn’t? But overall, he’s too ‘out of it’ even to be unhappy. So we’ve been telling ourselves. Now all of a sudden he has no quality of life, he’s miserable, there’s no reason to “prolong his life.” Withhold any life-saving treatment.)

The worst of it is, if we’d had this discussion years ago with him, he would have felt the same way. A person's perspective may well shift once he is actually in the situation (I remember my young mother, who is 84 now, repeatedly saying she hoped someone would administer cyanide to her on her 80th birthday.), but it’s too late now to ascertain whether Dad himself still buys into this culture of death.

Ah, this culture of death, administered by the priests and priestesses from Hospice!

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Continuing Vigil

Dad has been conscious for 3 days now, and no longer having convulsions. But he is still looking the way Barbara did 3 or 4 days before she died; there's that same "death look" on his face, in his eyes.

I'm staying with Mom in Springfield (Virginia); Wendy has also arrived. We sit with him in shifts, not yet including the hours between midnight and 6 a.m., however.

It won't last long, I'm thinking.

And there's no way, in a public blog, to express how awful all this is, for all sorts of reasons. Much, much tougher for me than Barbara's death in March.

Kyrie, eleison!