The treasure you seek
I know a man in prison. We were acquaintances twenty years ago; not close, but I liked him.
When I learned of his situation, I got approved by the Bureau of Prisons and began to regularly visit him.
Whether he is guilty of the crime, I don’t know. But he’s surely guilty of some crime; at least I am. I could name a few, but I’m exercising my Fifth Amendment rights under the Constitution.
So, “there but by the grace of God go I.” There are a lot of unexplained phenomena in the realm of rights and wrongs, justice and injustice.
He (a former Protestant pastor) and I (unskilled in Catholic apologetics) talk a lot about Christian theology, thereby we’ve become good friends. He’s not my captive victim, nor I his.
At first, I was careful not to express enthusiasm about my life “on the outside,” as it were, considering it might fly in the face of his incarceration. But I quickly realized sharing my small adventures excited him, and vice versa.
Many years ago, on two occasions, I had driven past penitentiaries while traveling for work, and sudden fear washed over me. And I had a similar experience out West when inadvertently crossing the border onto a Reservation.
Looking back now, those emotions were ridiculous. I have since been to a Reservation and made several wonderful friends. And I have now been to a prison and made another.
My visits to the Reservation were under the guise of providing care for horses. And my visits to prison were under the guise of performing a Corporal Work of Mercy, to “visit the imprisoned.”
But a more plausible explanation is that I have been pursuing myself in places I had feared to go. Joseph Campbell is credited with saying, “The cave you fear the most holds the treasure you seek.”
On the Reservation, I found a gracious people who fed me well and allowed me to work with them.
In the prison, I have a philosopher-theologian friend who encourages me.
It is absolutely, totally, incredibly amazing to me the treasures to be found on the other side of irrational fear.
Another fear — getting helplessly stranded
I was driving from Tucson, AZ to Albuquerque, NM. There was a turnoff to Tombstone, which brought to mind Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Johnny Ringo, and the Gunfight at the OK Corral. (There is an Earp family connection to Kentucky that interested me.)
But how close would I be to the Mexican border? What is Tombstone really like today? Would I have a cell phone signal when I got there? Did I have enough gasoline to get back? I stopped, thought it over, then reasoned not to go.
See where this is going? Now, I’ve just got to go to Tombstone! I am convinced there is a treasure there.
Sidenote: Since boyhood, I have loved the old westerns — television, movies, and novels. I mean LOVED them! But I can’t watch most of them anymore; they make me feel ashamed. Because I have been to the Reservation where I’ve made some friends.
Worthwhile treasures, turns out, aren’t without some corresponding loss. And, turns out, there have ALWAYS been a lot of unexplained phenomena in the realm of rights and wrongs, justice and injustice.
When I learned of his situation, I got approved by the Bureau of Prisons and began to regularly visit him.
Whether he is guilty of the crime, I don’t know. But he’s surely guilty of some crime; at least I am. I could name a few, but I’m exercising my Fifth Amendment rights under the Constitution.
So, “there but by the grace of God go I.” There are a lot of unexplained phenomena in the realm of rights and wrongs, justice and injustice.
He (a former Protestant pastor) and I (unskilled in Catholic apologetics) talk a lot about Christian theology, thereby we’ve become good friends. He’s not my captive victim, nor I his.
At first, I was careful not to express enthusiasm about my life “on the outside,” as it were, considering it might fly in the face of his incarceration. But I quickly realized sharing my small adventures excited him, and vice versa.
Many years ago, on two occasions, I had driven past penitentiaries while traveling for work, and sudden fear washed over me. And I had a similar experience out West when inadvertently crossing the border onto a Reservation.
Looking back now, those emotions were ridiculous. I have since been to a Reservation and made several wonderful friends. And I have now been to a prison and made another.
My visits to the Reservation were under the guise of providing care for horses. And my visits to prison were under the guise of performing a Corporal Work of Mercy, to “visit the imprisoned.”
But a more plausible explanation is that I have been pursuing myself in places I had feared to go. Joseph Campbell is credited with saying, “The cave you fear the most holds the treasure you seek.”
On the Reservation, I found a gracious people who fed me well and allowed me to work with them.
In the prison, I have a philosopher-theologian friend who encourages me.
It is absolutely, totally, incredibly amazing to me the treasures to be found on the other side of irrational fear.
Another fear — getting helplessly stranded
I was driving from Tucson, AZ to Albuquerque, NM. There was a turnoff to Tombstone, which brought to mind Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Johnny Ringo, and the Gunfight at the OK Corral. (There is an Earp family connection to Kentucky that interested me.)
But how close would I be to the Mexican border? What is Tombstone really like today? Would I have a cell phone signal when I got there? Did I have enough gasoline to get back? I stopped, thought it over, then reasoned not to go.
See where this is going? Now, I’ve just got to go to Tombstone! I am convinced there is a treasure there.
Sidenote: Since boyhood, I have loved the old westerns — television, movies, and novels. I mean LOVED them! But I can’t watch most of them anymore; they make me feel ashamed. Because I have been to the Reservation where I’ve made some friends.
Worthwhile treasures, turns out, aren’t without some corresponding loss. And, turns out, there have ALWAYS been a lot of unexplained phenomena in the realm of rights and wrongs, justice and injustice.