Not with Haste my Sister, my Bride.

I imagine it feels much like the sharp, explosive snap of a bolt of lightning and its accompanying thunderclap. I've never believed the stories of how it comes out of the blue, without warning or reason; yet, here it is. The shock of the moment is still crisp in my memory. My brain reeled, trying to keep up with events as they began to unfold. My heart escaped me; my senses seemed to become overwhelmed. The air itself seemed to crackle with a raw and primordial power. It was in the glance of her eye, the softness of her voice; as swift as a lightning strike, my heart was made captive. 

The next few weeks were torturous, even as they excited me. With every conversation, with every encounter, my heart become ever-more the captive. A woman who models Proverbs 31, who delights in her blessed Mother, and adores her Son. Despite myself, for reasons unbeknownst to me, she has chosen to give me a chance at honoring and protecting her heart. To say I am humbled is an understatement.

Here is woman who not only believes and practices the same faith I profess, but even thinks of many of the same things, musing on what many would consider awkward. She also challenges me to respect and uphold her dignity; calling out of me a nobility I did not know I was capable of. But of course, there is also the tension of my desires, good insofar as they are; yet, still tainted by the fall.

This remarkable turn of events has left me contemplating the movements of my heart. In that contemplation, two songs have been my focus these last few weeks; Song of Songs, especially 4:9-11, and Not with Haste, by Mumford and Sons.

The words that really ring out are the last words of Mumford’s Not with Haste, acknowledging the distinction of being able to love deeply and passionately, while not rushing into the hasty, distracting and destructive allure of lust. Pope John Paul II would have called this the proper integration of Eros and Agape; what Christopher West would liken to a rocket ship: great explosive power that can lead someone up into the heavens; or to self-destruction if not properly aligned. 

As I enter into a deeper relationship with this remarkable woman, my constant fear is that I will hurt her in some way; fail to protect her. Not from the external hazards, but from the interior battle that rages in my heart. This is perhaps the most acutely aware of the body-soul dichotomy I have ever been; a willing spirit and failing flesh. I know that in my heart-of-hearts my desire is to protect, cherish and honor this amazing woman; and it is precisely through that desire that I wish to bless and affirm her through the gift of physical intimacy. But I also know that touch is often a source of temptation for me. So where does that leave me? With good intentions and repression issues? 

Christopher West always talks about "not emptying the cross of its power." I, for one, take claim of that statement. Scripture shows us what a properly integrated eros and agape look like in the midst of a romantic relationship.  

The Song of Song is an erotic love poem between two lovers. But in this exchange of affection and erotic imagery, the groom says something odd to the bride, he calls her "sister," though they are not related. Christopher West explains that by first acknowledging her as sister, the groom is espousing a desire for the woman that, while erotic, is not lustful. As one would obviously not lust over their own sister, the groom is acknowledging the deep dignity of the other, and is initiating the gift of his Love; not the curse of his lust. 

Now, i'm not suggesting I should just jump into physical intimacy, or even flirt with that line, but I am claiming that, for Christians, there is something more then repressed desire and awkward side hugs. For the Christian, there is more then an abandonment to lust and the emptiness that follows. I have to believe that as I continue to discern and enter into relationship with this beautiful woman, that there can be a healing of my fallen desires; allowing me to give myself ever-more freely as a gift to her.

My hope is that I, if it is God's will, might one day be able to look this lady in the eyes and proclaim, "How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride; how much more delightful is your love than wine." But until that day, the constant and rewarding struggle of subverting eros to agape is my lot. 

I don't believe this blog has any readers: I don't blame you, seeing as we hardly contribute to this blog. But if you do, please pray for all those who are dating, discerning vocations to marriage, or living in their vocations as a single person: That the Lord will help us all to become chase of heart, urgent in love, and patient with our desires. 

Facebook and Relationships - A lot like Beer and Juggling Daggers.

I’ve been a Youth Minister, a seminarian, and a student. I like Jesus, the Catholic Church, beer, wine, friends, billiards, and video games. I have several favorite books and TV shows I love to watch oh-so-much. I like to sing, to act, and to do Karaoke; and I have pictures to prove it. I’ve been hiking, kayaking, to Rome and back, and I like to show off my wit (or lack thereof) as often as the opportunity presents itself; all this you can come to know in about 5 minutes browsing my Facebook page. I know FB has been getting a lot of slack lately, which is probably what inspired me to commit these thoughts to a blog no one reads, and it’s made me ponder how FB has affected me when it comes to relationships of an intimate nature. My findings, after a solid 15 minutes of deep and profound thought, is that FB has the potential of hampering our ability to be authentic with others, damaged our ability to communicate, and tainted our perception of beauty and fulfillment.

"In the end I portray a character..."

 I am significantly more than a collection of quotes, interest and past experiences. Yet as I create my online persona, even if I draw from true aspects of my lives, I tend to never mention the uglier parts of myself – the fact that I have glaring insecurities, doubts and struggles in my faith, weaknesses, pet-peeves and idiosyncrasies. The danger here is that I can start to feel pressured to uphold the online façade I have created; while at the same time, I hide and repress the parts of myself I wouldn’t care to mention. In the end I portray a character, and not the complex person that I am. A video I recently watched, Innovation ofLoneliness, explained it as “I share, therefor I am.”

What the video also captures is the paradox created by being overly connected, but not experiencing authentic community. Likewise, I find that Facebook, texting, and other forms of “instant” text based communication can really take a toll in our ability to communicate with one another. Look at any young relationship today, I am willing to bet that 70% of most relationships are started through the exchanging of texts or messages. Where is the problem in this? We become proficient in pausing, editing, and crafting “perfect” responses – responses that falsely represent who we are when in genuine conversation. The effect is awkward, shallow exchanges of conversation when you finally encounter a person face-to-face, and general uneasiness if conversation shifts into silence.

"often portraying unrealistic...beauty..."

Perhaps the most affected is my perception of beauty. I become so obsessed with what “others” are posting, the forced experiences, the perfectly angled photographs, the supposed exotic or novel locations, I continuously feel like I am becoming socially inept, or at the very least, uncool. I have become remarkably self-conscious and selective in photographs of myself, ever weary of the image I have fostered over the years. I become ever more critical of the photographs of others, often portraying unrealistic examples of beauty, or over sexed images. The net effect is a ravishing and desolation of our appetites; and what we find existing in nature no longer is able to satisfy.

So where does this leave me? In short, gimped. While Facebook is not fully to blame, of course, I wonder how different it would be to live in a time without Facebook. As I approach a friend, perhaps a girl that I would like know more intimately, how great would it be not to have the hundreds-of-thousands of “perfect” images of other women bouncing around in my head, how great would it be not to have to live up to a profile-persona that has slowly constricted my personally to only those parts I find worthy to share, how great would it be to enter into an authentic conversation with an individual, expressing the fullness of my humanity, and not just the neat little corner I’ve prepared for public view?
I will end this discombobulated, uninformative rant with this: In all this I have a deep, burning desire: to love fully, and be fully loved. To bring glory to God by being “a man fully alive.”