Divine Commission

Last Sunday, the 'Merciful Jesus' painting occupied a prominent spot at a shrine near my home.

     Did Jesus Christ personally inspire this portrait?
     In 1934, a Catholic nun in Poland claimed Christ appeared to her. It happened at night inside her convent. The Lord instructed Sister Faustina Kowalska to paint an image based on his appearance.
     Notice the red and pale white rays emanating from Christ's body. People outside the convent reported seeing rays coming from the window.
     Faustina wasn't an artist so she commissioned one. Other artists have created their own versions of the 'Merciful Jesus' painting. The rendition I observed is the most popular.
     The Catholic Church canonized the Sister Faustina. They did so after years of review and a miracle involving a sick child.
     Do I believe the visitation happened to Saint Faustina? More to the point, do I believe Jesus exists as the son of God?
     The answer is yes.
     It would be easy to believe in Jesus after seeing him in person. Few people get the chance. What matters to Jesus is people believing in him by faith.
     Last Sunday at church, the priest recited one of my favorite quotes by Jesus: "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe."

Double Dose of Inspiration

        The runner caught my eye. Using crutches for support, Larry Chloupek 53, approached the halfway point of the Boston Marathon.
     I've photographed lots of marathons. I can't recall seeing a runner with crutches. Most disabled athletes use wheelchairs or prosthetic devices. Chloupek couldn't use a prosthetic because his amputation had occurred at the hip. Bone cancer was the cause.
     His grit inspired me.
     Stefan Carisson, a runner from Sweden, came from behind. He turned toward Chloupek and offered a thumbs up. Thanks to that Swede's sportsmanship, the scene offered me a double dose of inspiration.

Two Stores, Two Policies

Carpet cleaner with rugs gathered for cleaning in basement.

     It should have been a routine visit to a hardware store.
     I asked a clerk about renting a carpet cleaning machine. She quoted me a price. Another employee--a person with some authority--showed me how to operate the unit.
     So far, I was a happy customer.
     The clerk handed me a rental contract form. It required me to fill in my home address, my email address, my home telephone number, and my cell phone number. On the top of the form, in large type, was the name of the corporation that built the machine.
     Alarm bells rang inside my head.
     I asked the clerk if this personal information would be sent to the corporation. She confirmed my suspicion.
    I conveyed to her a polite objection. That corporation, by obtaining my personal information, could spam me with email. They might call me with marketing pitches. They might even sell my information to other companies. 
     I asked her to not pass along my information to the corporation. She said it wasn't her decision. The man in charge strolled over. He did not agree with my request.
     I said I wouldn't give away so much personal information. His reaction was brusque. He mumbled something and wheeled away the machine.
    Several miles away, another hardware store rented carpet cleaners. I paid it a visit. All they wanted to see was my driver's license. No personal information would be kept or shared. Fair enough.
     The first hardware store lost a once loyal customer. The second store, because it respected my privacy, gained a new and long term customer.

Argument From Desire

A palm is folded into a cross following a Palm Sunday vigil mass at my church. 

     Do clues point to the existence of God?
     One possible clue is the Argument From Desire. It begins with the following premise: All of our natural desires can be satisfied. These satisfactions are possible because that's how the universe is set up.
     Hunger is a natural desire. Food satisfies it.
     Thirst is a natural desire. Water satisfies it.
     Companionship is a natural desire. Friends and relations fulfill it.
     Sexual desire is natural. Sex fulfills it.
     Longing for a future beyond mortal death is a natural desire. It must therefore be achievable. If so, does that mean God exists?

Lighten Up

A witch and broom during a performance of the Wizard of Oz. 

   "Where is the Wiccan class?" I said.
   The question was directed at two college students. The women worked a reception desk at a college in Massachusetts.
   "What's a Wiccan?" one of the students asked.
   "Something to do with witches," I said. "I'm photographing the class for a newspaper article."
   I don't know much about Wiccans. From what I've read, some of them practice witchcraft. Others do not. The women didn't know where the Wiccan class was meeting.
   One of the women smiled at me. "Take my picture!"
   "Got a broom?" I said.
   The women didn't laugh at my joke. They cringed and looked both ways, hoping nobody heard me. The women whispered that wasn't cool to make those kind of jokes at the college.
   I've read that speech codes stifle expression at colleges. That exchange bolstered my opinion that colleges need to lighten up.

Swamp Runneth Over

   I drove my parents to a flood, a harmless one.
   We sat in the car, gaping at water flowing over a backroad. Rain and snowmelt were the cause.
   Watching Mother Nature put on a show is more than fun. It relieves us from a barrage of stimuli. Even simple walks in the woods have the same effect.
   Nowadays, fewer people go hiking. Attendance is down at national parks. The drift away from nature recreation began during the 1980's. What's causing the change is electronic media. This assertion is backed up by research.
   What impact will this retreat from nature have on people? Or on society? It can't be good. Technology has out brains processing faster than ever, keeping up with a sensory overload.
   Nature is sensory under load. Nature is our reset button. Nature clears out our caches. Nature, on occasion, performs clean re-installs of our priorities.

Shame or Guilt?

   I noticed one dollar laying upon a donation bin. Someone hadn't squeezed the bill into the slot.
   The location was a Catholic shrine near my home. I stuffed the money into the bin and moved on.
   A year passed. I returned to the shrine. A woman shared a story.
   During a recent visit, she noticed an elderly priest who worked there. He collected money from the donor bin. Two teenage boys rushed over, grabbed the bag of cash from his hands, and ran away.
   Decades from now, will those boys feel guilt or shame for what they'd done?
   Shame is when a person feels awful because his bad deeds cause others to dislike him. Those boys got away. They'll never be associated with the crime. So the emotion of shame will not apply.
   What they'll suffer is guilt. It's not motivated by embarrassment. It's a remorse that comes from within. When those boys grow older and wiser, they'll regret having ripped off a priest and donors.
   Guilt is a painful yet wonderful emotion. It rehabilitates us.