Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

Author Anne Lamott claims the two best prayers she knows are “help me, help me, help me” and “thank you, thank you, thank you.” How simple and complete these are.

Over the course of the past month or so, I have started a gratitude practice. This simply means that every night before I fall asleep I take the time to write down three things about the day that I am thankful for. The idea is to literally take the time to say: “thank you, thank you, thank you” in a very specific and intentional way.

At times, what or who I appreciate has been quite predictable: time spent with my nephews and niece, my dog, my friends, my students. Simple pleasures like a white chocolate mocha from Caribou, hot tubs, and The Bachelor. Beauty such as a starry night sky, an orange and pink sunset, and Lake Calhoun.

At other times, I have been surprised about what I have found to be thankful for. Like the day that I forgot my purse at work and had to drive all the way back from home to get it. That day I was thankful that such an inconvenience was the worst thing I had to complain about. There was also the day I was thankful for having the courage to talk to my supervisor about a desire I have; whether or not my petition was granted was irrelevant, I was simply grateful that I took action to ask. Last night I was thankful that before sharing a meal with friends, we took the time to hold hands and bless our food as well as those who go without; such a simple thing, and yet, so refreshingly comforting to me.

Some days it’s easy to be thankful: like the day that a stranger bought me breakfast when I didn’t have cash and the seller didn’t take credit. Some days it’s more of a challenge: such as the day when an old schoolmate got in a serious skiing accident and had to have his lower leg amputated. That day I was simply thankful that I have my health…. and I realized that that is something I take for granted all too often.

I’m not sure that saying “thank you” to God, to the universe, to the people, places, and events that make my life meaningful changes anything about the world around me. However, I do think it changes me. It is something I can control… and it helps me to look for the good. It helps me, as Oriah Mountain Dreamer says, to, “see beauty even when it is not pretty everyday.”

Upon reflection, I wonder how often I am vulnerable enough to say, “help me, help me, help me”. For the most part, I like to think that I have pretty good control over my life. I am a self-proclaimed “over-functioner”. This means that when the world seems to be falling apart, I don’t let myself fall apart with it… I keep on, keeping on. I go to work, pay my bills, walk my dog. I function.

Functioning is important. And yet, so is having the courage to admit, “I can’t do this all on my own” or better yet, “I don’t have to do this all on my own”. Sometimes we need to admit that we are lost, or confused, or scared, or sad or angry. Sometimes we need to ask for help with heavy, significant things that we are struggling to accept or navigate.

At other times, maybe we would do well to ask for help with little things: such as for patience when sitting next to particularly loud traveling companions on an airplane. We can close our eyes, breathe deep and say, “help me, help me, help me”.

And, at still other times, perhaps, we would do best to ask for help in receiving that which we most want out of life. St. Ignatius says that at the beginning of each prayer you should ask God, “for what I want and desire”. Sometimes we don’t realize what we want until we take the time to truly put it into words. Sometimes trusting the heavens to help us in our quest to find that which we truly desire is the best, and maybe only, thing we can do.

I’m sure that there are countless ways to pray and access the Divine. I know I have some favorites of my own. But I have to think there is something to what Anne Lamott has said.

I have to think that if the only prayers we ever said were, “thank you, thank you, thank you” and “help me, help me, help me,” frequently and sincerely, that those might just be enough.

To Confirm

One of my many roles in the parish in which I work is as Confirmation Coordinator. It is around this time each year that I find myself amidst preparing 75-85 adolescents for their Confirmation into the Catholic Church.

Admittedly, when I started in this position I did not have a very deep sense of what this sacrament is all about. Of course I had been confirmed myself and I had even been a sponsor on more than one occasion. Even so, its’ significance wasn’t much more to me than as a rite of passage.. something one does when they get to be about 15 or 16 if they plan to continue on their faith journey. It should not come as much of a surprise to me, then, that this is approximately the amount of knowledge and understanding that my students and their parents have about this sacrament as well.

It seems obvious that in order to teach, one has to know, and hence, my understanding and appreciation of this sacrament has grown immensely over the past four years. In coming to realize that Confirmation entails truly “confirming” one’s faith, it has been important to me that my students have a real understanding of what the faith is that they are confirming. It has become important to me that upon reaching their Confirmation day, my students are able to articulate how exactly their beliefs and values stand on their own, apart from the beliefs and values of their parents, Godparents, sponsors and even me. If confirmation is about a commitment to live out those values for the rest of their lives, I want my students to be sure that they are values which they freely and wholeheartedly choose to commit to.

This being my logic, we spend a good amount of time talking about faith; the real, personal, experienced faith of these young people. And, in order to talk about faith, it seems only natural to me to talk about doubt. Apparently this jump, what I’d call a step, to doubt, is concerning for others.

I have come to realize that many faithful adults are afraid of the word “doubt”. It almost feels as if people are concerned that God’s psyche is too fragile to handle our doubts and questions… that somehow through our searching we will offend God and lose God’s grace.

This trepidation became apparent to me early on in my ministry when I came across a parent who wondered why we didn’t confirm students when they were in eighth grade. The implication was, “why don’t we confirm students when they are younger, while we still have control over their lives”. I think many parents share this sentiment: that it would be better that we confirm our young people before they have a chance to think for themselves.. before they begin to question.. before they begin to have competing priorities.. before they get too busy for God. Even at 15 and 16, so many of my students admittedly still have no better reason to be confirmed than because “someone is making me”.

I understand the pull to get confirmed because “that’s what you do when you’re Catholic”. But, if that is our only reason, if we treat this sacrament entirely as a rite of passage, if we do it without thinking about why, or what we believe in, or how we mean to live it out in our lives, than it is no wonder that so many youth grow up to become adults who leave the Church. They leave the Church because they weren’t really “thinking for themselves” when they entered in the first place.

One of my favorite quotes on this subject is from Benedictine Sister, Joan Chittister:

The problem with accepting truth as it comes to us rather than truth as we divine it for ourselves is that it’s not worth dying for—and we don’t. It becomes a patina of ideas inside of which we live our lives without passion, without care. This kind of faith happens around us but not in us-we go through the motions. The first crack in the edifice and we’re gone. The first chink in the wall of the castle keep and we’re off to less demanding fields. Doubt, on the other hand, is the mother of conviction. Once we have pursued our doubts to the dust, we forge a stronger, not a weaker belief system. These truths are true, we know, because they are now true for us rather than simply for someone else.

All around me I see people, young and old alike, who have faith happening around them but not in them. I see people who are so scared to doubt, that when pressed to justify their beliefs they have no better response than, “that’s what the Church teaches” without any real understanding of why or for what purpose. This kind of faith works for many people. But for others, at the “first crack in the edifice”.. the first time tragedy strikes.. the first time a loved one dies.. the first time they enter a philosophy class.. the first time they meet someone passionately invested in a faith other than their own.. and they’re gone.

I would rather that we invite and even encourage deep personal reflection, replete with doubts. I would rather we take the chance that in so doing, some people may walk away, but more will “forge a stronger, not a weaker belief system”. When I look around the world, I am convinced that we need less lukewarm believers and more people wholeheartedly confirmed in a faith of hope, compassion, love, and justice.

When I look at my young people, I pray that they have the courage not merely to “conform”, to accept truth as it comes to them, but instead to “confirm”… to confirm truths that are true for themselves not simply for someone else.