It's been kind of amazing to hear the glowing descriptions of Tim Russert's life and faith, and the way he kept his work and family life in balance. I always found him to be someone I enjoyed watching, both for his insightful, probing questions and for his refreshing lack of grandstanding. For the masses who didn't know him personally, a picture is emerging of someone whose faith was very important to him, and as much as it could in his position, it found its way into his work in some subtle and surprising ways. Newsweek is running an article by an Anglican friend of his whom he convinced to debate Christopher Hitchens on the air, even though he doesn't typically engage in debates (and was concerned that Hitchens would eat his lunch).
I heard a suggestion today that too much is being made of Tim Russert's faith, because it wasn't front & center in his work (in terms of content choices, presumably meaning he should have stuck with Catholic themes or somehow consistently identified himself as a Catholic on the air). I don't think that's a reasonable test to apply to someone; there is no moral imperative that a person who is a journalist by trade be a "Catholic" journalist, meaning that he only works in Catholic media or does stories with a Catholic theme. That wouldn't be any more reasonable than expecting someone to be a "Catholic" doctor, or lawyer, or mechanic. It quickly becomes an artificial distinction. We're called to bring our principles and a well-formed conscience into the workplace, no matter what we do. That's going to mean that our values and our choices should reflect Catholic teaching and values; it doesn't mean that we have to build a separate Catholic sub-culture.
A Catholic surgeon doesn't need to insist on praying with his patients or only operating on Christians to live out his faith though his work; he does it by using his skills to save lives, by making choices consistent with a Catholic world view, and by treating colleagues and patients with respect. A Catholic attorney doesn't have to only work on Church related business or restrict himself to civil liberties cases. Living his faith might mean that he turns down certain kinds of cases or restricts himself to potentially less lucrative areas of the law in order to avoid ethical dilemmas. In my case, there are radio formats in which I wouldn't work, certain kinds of commercial reads I wouldn't do, etc., were I to go back to a secular format. It's very challenging to live one's faith in a secular setting, but I also think it's were a person can often do the most good.
I choose to work in Catholic media because I feel it's where I can do the most good, and where I've had the best opportunities to talk about things that are important to me. It doesn't mean I couldn't work in a secular talk format, or go back to my roots in music radio. If I did make that kind of choice, it would be incumbent upon me to make sure that the station, format, and subject matter I chose lined up with Catholic teaching. It doesn't make one choice right and another wrong.
The remarkable thing about Tim Russert was that he lived a life that embraced his faith, and won the respect of a lot of people who didn't share his views. He worked at the highest level of an industry that often spurns and ridicules people of faith. He presided over "Meet the Press" for 20 years, and was NBC's Washington Bureau Chief. The many glowing accounts of his life have included accolades from a bishop or two, as well as news people and politicians. They respected his work and appreciated his ethics and morality. In a culture growing increasingly hostile to faith in any form, that's pretty remarkable.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Thanks, Jim
Over the weekend I converted my Sean Scales Down blog to basically a private journal. I had gotten uncomfortable with the amount of information I was putting on it; to be honest, I was embarrassed to see my entire dieting saga right there in black and white. I've sort of been struggling with what direction to go in terms of a weight-loss program, and I basically just felt stupid describing what I was going through.
I received a very nice email from Jim, who said that the blog had inspired him to try to lose some weight himself. He also said he understood why I might want to keep my thoughts about my weight loss private. I read his email this morning, and have been thinking about it off and on ever since. I was glad to hear it was actually an encouragement to someone, but I also acknowledged something I already knew to be true; I had some good reasons for starting that blog, and some bad reasons for taking it down (in a nutshell, a mixture of pride and embarrassment). This evening I decided to reset the blog to public and once again link to it from this one. I've written a rather lengthy (and honest) post about it over there.
It's really not accurate to say that this blog is the one where I write about spiritual matters and that one is where I deal with the mundane business of dieting (although it is accurate to say that dieting-related minutiae will appear there and not here). That's the joy and the ongoing struggle of embracing a genuinely Catholic worldview. Nothing is outside the scope of our faith. Nothing gets left out, glossed over, or set aside for later. The Gospel demands that our whole lives be lived pursuing love of God and love of neighbor, and that everything we do, say, eat, and drink be a reflection of that pursuit.
Blog-wise, I sort of segregated that aspect of my life for a couple reasons: 1) There would be something crushingly, mind-numbingly narcissistic of me to devote almost every post to one very personal topic, especially in the kind of detail I go into there; 2) I wanted to have a place where I could set my thoughts down about this one thing and view my progress; and 3) as I mentioned in a now-deleted post, Blogger is free. They don't charge per word or per blog, so you can just basically go nuts with it. It's kind of fun to start a short-term or single-topic blog, and as someone who's been blogging for quite a few years now, it's a good way to keep my main blog from getting overly cluttered with other stuff. Some of those blogs flourish for a short time, some develop a nice little life of their own, and some die a quick, merciful death. By the way, you'll never see the blogs that fall into that last category.
My own efforts to lose weight are part and parcel of my battle against my own concupiscence and sensuality (let's face it; most fat people are fat because we really, really like to eat). There's a reason why gluttony is one of the Seven Deadly Sins (and isn't it interesting how it's probably the only one a person can actively engage in and still be thought of fairly well by others). In this struggle, as in all of our struggles against sin, I am quite literally my own worst enemy. I saw that running as a thread through the Sean Scales Down blog, and quite frankly, it embarrassed me.
I mean, that's really the whole point, isn't it? It's what I talk about on the radio every day. It's why I've been blogging about my faith since 2002. It's the reason I became Catholic. Catholicism isn't any of the things it's often purported to be in the distorted descriptions made by those who oppose it. In a way, it's also not many of the things we Catholics represent it to be, either, at least if you judge our view of the faith by our behavior. The Catholic faith is an opportunity to look at every aspect of our lives, and every moment of our lives, and determine whether we are living in harmony with the Gospel or in opposition to it. Through the Sacraments, the faith is an ongoing opportunity to touch heaven and be touched by it. It is a chance to see the face of God and let that intersection with the divine work itself into our everyday lives.
Something as mundane (and in my case, as important) as losing weight isn't peripheral to the story of our faith journey. It goes to my need to deal with long entrenched patterns of sin, to improving my own interior life, and to honoring my commitment to my vocation as a husband and father (by keeping myself healthy, more actively participating in the life of my family as the weight becomes less of a hindrance, and by simply staying alive longer).
You're unique, so your issues aren't my issues. All I know for sure is that you do have issues; we all do. The Catholic faith doesn't take us to some far-away land where it doesn't matter how we've lived our lives, spent our money, or conducted our affairs. The more we allow heaven into our daily lives, the more important those very things become. Great saints have talked about this in a myriad of ways, from St. Therese's Little Way, to St. Josemaria's establishment of Opus Dei, to St. Francis de Sales' spiritual direction, to St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. They're really all about the same basic truth; as we respond to God's call to holiness, everything matters. The more fully we embrace his mercy, the more they matter. It's not a matter of scrupulosity, but of harmony. Scrupulosity is actually the opposite of (and a hindrance to) that harmony as one or two things are singled out and exaggerated.
We're called to live lives of consistent faith. That ain't easy.
I received a very nice email from Jim, who said that the blog had inspired him to try to lose some weight himself. He also said he understood why I might want to keep my thoughts about my weight loss private. I read his email this morning, and have been thinking about it off and on ever since. I was glad to hear it was actually an encouragement to someone, but I also acknowledged something I already knew to be true; I had some good reasons for starting that blog, and some bad reasons for taking it down (in a nutshell, a mixture of pride and embarrassment). This evening I decided to reset the blog to public and once again link to it from this one. I've written a rather lengthy (and honest) post about it over there.
It's really not accurate to say that this blog is the one where I write about spiritual matters and that one is where I deal with the mundane business of dieting (although it is accurate to say that dieting-related minutiae will appear there and not here). That's the joy and the ongoing struggle of embracing a genuinely Catholic worldview. Nothing is outside the scope of our faith. Nothing gets left out, glossed over, or set aside for later. The Gospel demands that our whole lives be lived pursuing love of God and love of neighbor, and that everything we do, say, eat, and drink be a reflection of that pursuit.
Blog-wise, I sort of segregated that aspect of my life for a couple reasons: 1) There would be something crushingly, mind-numbingly narcissistic of me to devote almost every post to one very personal topic, especially in the kind of detail I go into there; 2) I wanted to have a place where I could set my thoughts down about this one thing and view my progress; and 3) as I mentioned in a now-deleted post, Blogger is free. They don't charge per word or per blog, so you can just basically go nuts with it. It's kind of fun to start a short-term or single-topic blog, and as someone who's been blogging for quite a few years now, it's a good way to keep my main blog from getting overly cluttered with other stuff. Some of those blogs flourish for a short time, some develop a nice little life of their own, and some die a quick, merciful death. By the way, you'll never see the blogs that fall into that last category.
My own efforts to lose weight are part and parcel of my battle against my own concupiscence and sensuality (let's face it; most fat people are fat because we really, really like to eat). There's a reason why gluttony is one of the Seven Deadly Sins (and isn't it interesting how it's probably the only one a person can actively engage in and still be thought of fairly well by others). In this struggle, as in all of our struggles against sin, I am quite literally my own worst enemy. I saw that running as a thread through the Sean Scales Down blog, and quite frankly, it embarrassed me.
I mean, that's really the whole point, isn't it? It's what I talk about on the radio every day. It's why I've been blogging about my faith since 2002. It's the reason I became Catholic. Catholicism isn't any of the things it's often purported to be in the distorted descriptions made by those who oppose it. In a way, it's also not many of the things we Catholics represent it to be, either, at least if you judge our view of the faith by our behavior. The Catholic faith is an opportunity to look at every aspect of our lives, and every moment of our lives, and determine whether we are living in harmony with the Gospel or in opposition to it. Through the Sacraments, the faith is an ongoing opportunity to touch heaven and be touched by it. It is a chance to see the face of God and let that intersection with the divine work itself into our everyday lives.
Something as mundane (and in my case, as important) as losing weight isn't peripheral to the story of our faith journey. It goes to my need to deal with long entrenched patterns of sin, to improving my own interior life, and to honoring my commitment to my vocation as a husband and father (by keeping myself healthy, more actively participating in the life of my family as the weight becomes less of a hindrance, and by simply staying alive longer).
You're unique, so your issues aren't my issues. All I know for sure is that you do have issues; we all do. The Catholic faith doesn't take us to some far-away land where it doesn't matter how we've lived our lives, spent our money, or conducted our affairs. The more we allow heaven into our daily lives, the more important those very things become. Great saints have talked about this in a myriad of ways, from St. Therese's Little Way, to St. Josemaria's establishment of Opus Dei, to St. Francis de Sales' spiritual direction, to St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. They're really all about the same basic truth; as we respond to God's call to holiness, everything matters. The more fully we embrace his mercy, the more they matter. It's not a matter of scrupulosity, but of harmony. Scrupulosity is actually the opposite of (and a hindrance to) that harmony as one or two things are singled out and exaggerated.
We're called to live lives of consistent faith. That ain't easy.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Another opportunity to develop the virtue of patience
NOTE: I'm leaving this post up, but it turns out the premise for the thing was all wrong. In its update, the airline used a different desgination for the same airport. The schedule appears to be exactly the same, so I'm now kind of mystified as to what inconvenience they were apologizing for...
I just got an email from Northwest Airlines. The good news is that they apologize for any inconvenience they've caused; the bad news is that a confirmed reservation for my wife and daughter (to attend a relative's wedding) was changed. The departure airport was changed from the metro airport ten minutes from our house to a teensy-weensie municipal airport an hour away. The flight leaves at 6:30 AM, so that means we'll have to leave the house at around 4:45. Other options would be to stay the night near the airport or use some kind of shuttle; I'm guessing the room would actually end up being cheaper (although you'd still have to factor in the cost of gas).
Pretty clever there, Northwest Airlines! Rather than retroactively raising the price of our ticket(which would probably be, you know, illegal), you're passing the cost on to us! Presumably you save money on this deal (I'm guessing by running a smaller plane out of a smaller airport, in response to reduced demand). At the same time, you've put us in a position where we're having to spend more to get to the airport. You've quite literally passed the financial burden for this flight onto almost every person who will be taking it. You're a clever bunch of heartless corporate weasels, you are.
Editor's note: "Weasels" was not the first word that came into my head, but it's far more blog-friendly than what I'm actually thinking right now.
Well, at least my daughter won't have any trouble shifting from central to pacific time on the other end...she'll be tired enough to hit the sack at her usual bedtime, local time.
This is where I'm reminded that we are encouraged to "offer up" our suffering, large and small, and unite it to the suffering of Christ:
Sometimes I feel like offering up the smaller irritations of life is almost an insult to the whole idea of entering into Christ's passion; I know that when I feel that way, I'm actually looking at the whole thing backwards. The more that we actively, deliberately unite our suffering to his--from the mundane to the profound--the more our minds are on him in those moments. As we grow in holiness this should become a more frequent response, not a less frequent one. In this situation, there will be a cost in terms of inconvenience, frustration, gas, and fatigue. It's going to be a perfect opportunity.
I just got an email from Northwest Airlines. The good news is that they apologize for any inconvenience they've caused; the bad news is that a confirmed reservation for my wife and daughter (to attend a relative's wedding) was changed. The departure airport was changed from the metro airport ten minutes from our house to a teensy-weensie municipal airport an hour away. The flight leaves at 6:30 AM, so that means we'll have to leave the house at around 4:45. Other options would be to stay the night near the airport or use some kind of shuttle; I'm guessing the room would actually end up being cheaper (although you'd still have to factor in the cost of gas).
Pretty clever there, Northwest Airlines! Rather than retroactively raising the price of our ticket(which would probably be, you know, illegal), you're passing the cost on to us! Presumably you save money on this deal (I'm guessing by running a smaller plane out of a smaller airport, in response to reduced demand). At the same time, you've put us in a position where we're having to spend more to get to the airport. You've quite literally passed the financial burden for this flight onto almost every person who will be taking it. You're a clever bunch of heartless corporate weasels, you are.
Editor's note: "Weasels" was not the first word that came into my head, but it's far more blog-friendly than what I'm actually thinking right now.
Well, at least my daughter won't have any trouble shifting from central to pacific time on the other end...she'll be tired enough to hit the sack at her usual bedtime, local time.
This is where I'm reminded that we are encouraged to "offer up" our suffering, large and small, and unite it to the suffering of Christ:
1505 Moved by so much suffering Christ not only allows himself to be touched by the sick, but he makes their miseries his own: "He took our infirmities and bore our diseases.".112 But he did not heal all the sick. His healings were signs of the coming of the Kingdom of God. They announced a more radical healing: the victory over sin and death through his Passover. On the cross Christ took upon himself the whole weight of evil and took away the "sin of the world,".113 of which illness is only a consequence. By his passion and death on the cross Christ has given a new meaning to suffering: it can henceforth configure us to him and unite us with his redemptive Passion.
Sometimes I feel like offering up the smaller irritations of life is almost an insult to the whole idea of entering into Christ's passion; I know that when I feel that way, I'm actually looking at the whole thing backwards. The more that we actively, deliberately unite our suffering to his--from the mundane to the profound--the more our minds are on him in those moments. As we grow in holiness this should become a more frequent response, not a less frequent one. In this situation, there will be a cost in terms of inconvenience, frustration, gas, and fatigue. It's going to be a perfect opportunity.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Ora et labora
First off, if anyone can explain to me why my Blogger toolbar and sign-in page are sometimes showing up in Chinese, that would be great. It's not that I have anything against the Chinese language (it's alternately beautiful and frightening, the latter being the case when spoken in loud tones between our guide and a cab driver; when we asked her what was going on, she said, "We're just talking"), it's just that I can't read it. That's why I tend to prefer, you know...English. If it were stuck on Spanish I'd still be able to find my way around, but no joy with the Chinese characters.
Now on to the main event, from the Catechism of the Catholic Church:
I love that! The quote is from St. Benedict, the father of monasticism. Pope Benedict VI takes both his name and his motto from St. Benedict. "Ora et Labora" is Latin for "Pray and work."
It's a balance, and it's possible to err to either extreme. One one hand, I can succumb to the sin of pride, essentially saying that I don't need God's help because I've got it handled on my own. The other extreme is the sin of presumption; when it comes to salvation, presumption is, well...presuming that God will save me no matter what I do (sin up a storm, never repent, etc.). We can (and do) exhibit presumption in lots of smaller ways, including praying for things without making any effort to work for them. If I pray that God will give me a job as a surgeon, even though I never went to medical school, will he answer that prayer in the affirmative? I'm thinking it's doubtful.
I got to thinking about that with my current focus on losing weight. Should I pray for God's help in this area? Absolutely. Can I pray for his help, eat the way I always have, and expect a good result? The First Law of Thermodynamics says no. Matter is changed, but not destroyed; my body either changes it into energy to keep me rolling, or stores it for future energy needs in the form of fat.
I can pray to lose weight, but unless I actually work at it, it's not going to happen. In that particular situation, I think the most prudent prayer is one asking God to give me the fortitude to do the things I need to do, rather than asking him to bend the laws of physics on my behalf. The prayer is important--vital, really--and without it I don't think I would have gotten as far as I have in losing weight this year. Without the work, though, I can guarantee you it wouldn't have happened.
There's another principle at work here, and one we see with a lot of the "lose weight quickly and painlessly" programs, medical interventions, and downright scams (some of which I've tried). Along with the loss of pounds has to come discipline; that's only going to be attained through saying no to one's appetites and taking positive steps in the right direction. That's true of most things in our lives, including spiritual development. The process itself, and difficulty inherent in it, gives me the strength I need to continue. That's the way it's supposed to be.
Now on to the main event, from the Catechism of the Catholic Church:
2834 "Pray and work." "Pray as if everything depended on God and work as if everything depended on you." Even when we have done our work, the food we receive is still a gift from our Father; it is good to ask him for it and to thank him, as Christian families do when saying grace at meals.
I love that! The quote is from St. Benedict, the father of monasticism. Pope Benedict VI takes both his name and his motto from St. Benedict. "Ora et Labora" is Latin for "Pray and work."
It's a balance, and it's possible to err to either extreme. One one hand, I can succumb to the sin of pride, essentially saying that I don't need God's help because I've got it handled on my own. The other extreme is the sin of presumption; when it comes to salvation, presumption is, well...presuming that God will save me no matter what I do (sin up a storm, never repent, etc.). We can (and do) exhibit presumption in lots of smaller ways, including praying for things without making any effort to work for them. If I pray that God will give me a job as a surgeon, even though I never went to medical school, will he answer that prayer in the affirmative? I'm thinking it's doubtful.
I got to thinking about that with my current focus on losing weight. Should I pray for God's help in this area? Absolutely. Can I pray for his help, eat the way I always have, and expect a good result? The First Law of Thermodynamics says no. Matter is changed, but not destroyed; my body either changes it into energy to keep me rolling, or stores it for future energy needs in the form of fat.
I can pray to lose weight, but unless I actually work at it, it's not going to happen. In that particular situation, I think the most prudent prayer is one asking God to give me the fortitude to do the things I need to do, rather than asking him to bend the laws of physics on my behalf. The prayer is important--vital, really--and without it I don't think I would have gotten as far as I have in losing weight this year. Without the work, though, I can guarantee you it wouldn't have happened.
There's another principle at work here, and one we see with a lot of the "lose weight quickly and painlessly" programs, medical interventions, and downright scams (some of which I've tried). Along with the loss of pounds has to come discipline; that's only going to be attained through saying no to one's appetites and taking positive steps in the right direction. That's true of most things in our lives, including spiritual development. The process itself, and difficulty inherent in it, gives me the strength I need to continue. That's the way it's supposed to be.
1805 Four virtues play a pivotal role and accordingly are called "cardinal"; all the others are grouped around them. They are: prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance. "If anyone loves righteousness, [Wisdom's] labors are virtues; for she teaches temperance and prudence, justice, and courage."64 These virtues are praised under other names in many passages of Scripture.
1806 Prudence is the virtue that disposes practical reason to discern our true good in every circumstance and to choose the right means of achieving it; "the prudent man looks where he is going."65 "Keep sane and sober for your prayers."66 Prudence is "right reason in action," writes St. Thomas Aquinas, following Aristotle.67 It is not to be confused with timidity or fear, nor with duplicity or dissimulation. It is called auriga virtutum (the charioteer of the virtues); it guides the other virtues by setting rule and measure. It is prudence that immediately guides the judgment of conscience. The prudent man determines and directs his conduct in accordance with this judgment. With the help of this virtue we apply moral principles to particular cases without error and overcome doubts about the good to achieve and the evil to avoid.
1807 Justice is the moral virtue that consists in the constant and firm will to give their due to God and neighbor. Justice toward God is called the "virtue of religion." Justice toward men disposes one to respect the rights of each and to establish in human relationships the harmony that promotes equity with regard to persons and to the common good. The just man, often mentioned in the Sacred Scriptures, is distinguished by habitual right thinking and the uprightness of his conduct toward his neighbor. "You shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great, but in righteousness shall you judge your neighbor."68 "Masters, treat your slaves justly and fairly, knowing that you also have a Master in heaven."69
1808 Fortitude is the moral virtue that ensures firmness in difficulties and constancy in the pursuit of the good. It strengthens the resolve to resist temptations and to overcome obstacles in the moral life. The virtue of fortitude enables one to conquer fear, even fear of death, and to face trials and persecutions. It disposes one even to renounce and sacrifice his life in defense of a just cause. "The Lord is my strength and my song."70 "In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."71
1809 Temperance is the moral virtue that moderates the attraction of pleasures and provides balance in the use of created goods. It ensures the will's mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable. The temperate person directs the sensitive appetites toward what is good and maintains a healthy discretion: "Do not follow your inclination and strength, walking according to the desires of your heart."72 Temperance is often praised in the Old Testament: "Do not follow your base desires, but restrain your appetites."73 In the New Testament it is called "moderation" or "sobriety." We ought "to live sober, upright, and godly lives in this world."74
To live well is nothing other than to love God with all one's heart, with all one's soul and with all one's efforts; from this it comes about that love is kept whole and uncorrupted (through temperance). No misfortune can disturb it (and this is fortitude). It obeys only [God] (and this is justice), and is careful in discerning things, so as not to be surprised by deceit or trickery (and this is prudence).75
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Please continue to hold
I don't like to brag, but I am a loyal customer of the wireless telephone company with the lowest level of customer satisfaction in the history of mankind. The Roman Empire would have scored better on a customer survey than these guys. I'm happy with my basic service, but I'd pretty much rather chew off an arm than ask Customer Service for anything.
Not only have I been a customer for over three years, but a couple months ago I renewed my contract with them! I bought two brand-new phones and signed on for two more years of heaven-on-earth in the form of my family plan. Why, you ask? Did I suffer some sort of trauma that clouded my judgment? Do I view calling their customer service center as some sort of extreme sport, like base jumping?
No, the answer is even more sad and inexplicable. After a few positive experiences with Customer Service (which, as it turned out, would later spawn a series of less-than-positive experiences), I thought they were getting better.
I really, really did.
Well, to quote Marlin the clown fish (which you can do if, like me, you have a preschooler), "Good feeling gone."
The specific details of my two latest issues (which, if left unresolved, would have set me back $300) are too boring for words. Suffice it to say that they involved an early termination fee that was misapplied (and eventually cancelled) and a rebate that was erroneously denied (and then summarily approved).
The basic dance is this:
I call Customer Service and tell them what I want to do. They say, Yes sir, we can do that, no problem!
I say, Is this going to cost me extra?
They say, Oh, no, sir! You're a very valuable customer because you pay your bill on time! Have I resolved your issue today? And would you like to add another line of service you don't need, a data plan for your blind, elderly mother who can barely dial her phone, or maybe some text messaging for your dog?
And then things go horribly, horribly wrong. Sometimes it's a little wrong (like getting charged for long-distance calls on a flat rate plan), and sometimes it's a lot wrong (like having a $100 rebate declined due to a "system error.") I've actually never had them not fix things, but it always takes at least one call, and sometimes as many as six or seven, to get it fixed. The long distance issue went on for about eight months before it was finally resolved.
Me like italics.
I have developed a passionate dislike for calling Customer Service. I can feel my jaw clenching and my heartbeat picking up before I even get connected. I'm spoiling for a fight before I even get on the phone with these folks, because it seems like I generally have to explain things five or six times before a light goes on somewhere, and the problem suddenly becomes fixable.
Tonight I had to hold for about half an hour, so I had plenty of time to get tense. I made a commitment to myself that I would speak calmly and patiently to the CSR, since he or she didn't create the situation in the first place. I also resolved that no matter his or her level of apparent competence, I would try to still apply that whole pesky Golden Rule thing that Jesus was always going on about (and at the most inconvenient moments).
My spiritual director gave me some great advice a while back. St. Francis de Sales was not only an amazing man and great spiritual director, but someone who was humble about his own faults. One of them was anger. He said that to conquer anger and irritation, one very effective approach is to be overly gentle (almost to an exaggerated degree) in one's everyday speech and manner. Although I try to remember, this is not exactly something that has become habitual for me.
After I got off the phone with the Customer Service guy (who inexplicably fixed my problem with no explanation from me at all), I realized that's what I'd been unconsciously doing. I'm not exactly ready to give Mother Teresa a run for her money, but it was definitely progress.
So, I'm starting to see another reason I've chained myself to the world's worst wireless company for the next two years. It's actually good for my soul.
Not only have I been a customer for over three years, but a couple months ago I renewed my contract with them! I bought two brand-new phones and signed on for two more years of heaven-on-earth in the form of my family plan. Why, you ask? Did I suffer some sort of trauma that clouded my judgment? Do I view calling their customer service center as some sort of extreme sport, like base jumping?
No, the answer is even more sad and inexplicable. After a few positive experiences with Customer Service (which, as it turned out, would later spawn a series of less-than-positive experiences), I thought they were getting better.
I really, really did.
Well, to quote Marlin the clown fish (which you can do if, like me, you have a preschooler), "Good feeling gone."
The specific details of my two latest issues (which, if left unresolved, would have set me back $300) are too boring for words. Suffice it to say that they involved an early termination fee that was misapplied (and eventually cancelled) and a rebate that was erroneously denied (and then summarily approved).
The basic dance is this:
I call Customer Service and tell them what I want to do. They say, Yes sir, we can do that, no problem!
I say, Is this going to cost me extra?
They say, Oh, no, sir! You're a very valuable customer because you pay your bill on time! Have I resolved your issue today? And would you like to add another line of service you don't need, a data plan for your blind, elderly mother who can barely dial her phone, or maybe some text messaging for your dog?
And then things go horribly, horribly wrong. Sometimes it's a little wrong (like getting charged for long-distance calls on a flat rate plan), and sometimes it's a lot wrong (like having a $100 rebate declined due to a "system error.") I've actually never had them not fix things, but it always takes at least one call, and sometimes as many as six or seven, to get it fixed. The long distance issue went on for about eight months before it was finally resolved.
Me like italics.
I have developed a passionate dislike for calling Customer Service. I can feel my jaw clenching and my heartbeat picking up before I even get connected. I'm spoiling for a fight before I even get on the phone with these folks, because it seems like I generally have to explain things five or six times before a light goes on somewhere, and the problem suddenly becomes fixable.
Tonight I had to hold for about half an hour, so I had plenty of time to get tense. I made a commitment to myself that I would speak calmly and patiently to the CSR, since he or she didn't create the situation in the first place. I also resolved that no matter his or her level of apparent competence, I would try to still apply that whole pesky Golden Rule thing that Jesus was always going on about (and at the most inconvenient moments).
My spiritual director gave me some great advice a while back. St. Francis de Sales was not only an amazing man and great spiritual director, but someone who was humble about his own faults. One of them was anger. He said that to conquer anger and irritation, one very effective approach is to be overly gentle (almost to an exaggerated degree) in one's everyday speech and manner. Although I try to remember, this is not exactly something that has become habitual for me.
After I got off the phone with the Customer Service guy (who inexplicably fixed my problem with no explanation from me at all), I realized that's what I'd been unconsciously doing. I'm not exactly ready to give Mother Teresa a run for her money, but it was definitely progress.
So, I'm starting to see another reason I've chained myself to the world's worst wireless company for the next two years. It's actually good for my soul.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Don't ask me to explain this
I mentioned in a previous post that I've discovered the joys of Facebook. It's allowed me to reconnect with a lot of folks I haven't talked to in a while (most of them are people I haven't talked to for several years, so it's pretty cool in that regard). It also prompted me, through a series of events far to bizarre and tedious to explain, to spend an hour this afternoon writing this list:
Top Ten Signs your Parish Priest Might be a Borg Drone
10. Uses the word "viniculum" in casual conversation
9. Claims his family name, Unimatrix, is French
8. Lectors won't exchange the Sign of Peace with him; they don't believe Charlie's assimilation was a "coincidence"
7. The parish's new voicemail system tells callers, "You may enter your party's extension at any time, or simply stay on the line and wait for nanoprobes to rewrite your DNA"
6. Every week it's the same announcement: "Scrip will replace standard currency for all household purchases; resistance is futile"
5. In the bulletin, lists the Friday night fundraiser as "Borgo"
4. Insists his head is removable
3. Frequently asks the choir to sing "A Mighty Fortress is Our Cube"
2. After the Benediction, likes to finish up with an anecdote about a culture he's assmilated
1. In his homilies, frequently quotes an obscure Church historian named Locutus
I'm not suggesting a Borg drone could or should be a parish priest. Theologically speaking, there would be a number of pretty serious impediments. I'm just offering this list as a public service. If you notice any of the above telltale signs, give Starfleet Command a call.
Top Ten Signs your Parish Priest Might be a Borg Drone
10. Uses the word "viniculum" in casual conversation
9. Claims his family name, Unimatrix, is French
8. Lectors won't exchange the Sign of Peace with him; they don't believe Charlie's assimilation was a "coincidence"
7. The parish's new voicemail system tells callers, "You may enter your party's extension at any time, or simply stay on the line and wait for nanoprobes to rewrite your DNA"
6. Every week it's the same announcement: "Scrip will replace standard currency for all household purchases; resistance is futile"
5. In the bulletin, lists the Friday night fundraiser as "Borgo"
4. Insists his head is removable
3. Frequently asks the choir to sing "A Mighty Fortress is Our Cube"
2. After the Benediction, likes to finish up with an anecdote about a culture he's assmilated
1. In his homilies, frequently quotes an obscure Church historian named Locutus
I'm not suggesting a Borg drone could or should be a parish priest. Theologically speaking, there would be a number of pretty serious impediments. I'm just offering this list as a public service. If you notice any of the above telltale signs, give Starfleet Command a call.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Hug your kid a little tighter
Christian pop star Steven Curtis Chapman's youngest daughter died yesterday when a sibling accidentally backed over her with the family car. It happened in their driveway with other family members right there.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since I heard the news this morning. The Chapmans were an inspiration for us, and one of the reasons we ended up adopting from China. I've spoken to him a few times, but I can't really say I know him. I do know a lot of record industry people who have worked closely with him, and he's just a really decent, caring guy. They're a good family, sincere Christians, and people who have really tried to make a difference in the world. It's the classic "Why do bad things happen to good people" scenario, compounded infinitely by the tragic circumstances.
We're the same age--45, and their daughter Maria (adopted from China) was the same age as our daughter Julie (also adopted from China). My wife and I each (separately) talked with Julie about what happened, and about some other stories we've heard of the same thing happening in eerily similar circumstances. A few months ago here in Wisconsin, a state lawmaker ran over and killed his own granddaughter, not realizing she had made her way into the driveway as he was leaving. These aren't negectful parents, which in a way makes it even worse. They'll spend the rest of their lives haunted by what they wish they'd done.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since I heard the news this morning. The Chapmans were an inspiration for us, and one of the reasons we ended up adopting from China. I've spoken to him a few times, but I can't really say I know him. I do know a lot of record industry people who have worked closely with him, and he's just a really decent, caring guy. They're a good family, sincere Christians, and people who have really tried to make a difference in the world. It's the classic "Why do bad things happen to good people" scenario, compounded infinitely by the tragic circumstances.
We're the same age--45, and their daughter Maria (adopted from China) was the same age as our daughter Julie (also adopted from China). My wife and I each (separately) talked with Julie about what happened, and about some other stories we've heard of the same thing happening in eerily similar circumstances. A few months ago here in Wisconsin, a state lawmaker ran over and killed his own granddaughter, not realizing she had made her way into the driveway as he was leaving. These aren't negectful parents, which in a way makes it even worse. They'll spend the rest of their lives haunted by what they wish they'd done.
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