Seized by Christ

They are experiencing Christianity as joy and hope, having thus become lovers of Christ.

Category: Heroism and the Call to Adventure

The Christian life as a heroic journey, blending Scripture, myth, and psychological growth.

  • Take Up Your Cross:

    The Hero’s Anthem of Discipleship

    At Mass today, the congregation sang a hymn that almost reads like a hero’s anthem:

    “Take up thy cross,” the Savior said,
     “if thou wouldst my disciple be;
     deny thyself, the world forsake,
     and humbly follow after Me.”

    “Take up thy cross, let not its weight
     fill thy weak spirit with alarm;
     His strength shall bear thy spirit up,
     and brace thy heart, and nerve thine arm.”

    “Take up thy cross, nor heed the shame,
     nor let thy foolish pride rebel;
     thy Lord for thee the cross endured,
     to save thy soul from death and hell.”

    “Take up thy cross, and follow Christ,
     nor think till death to lay it down;
     for only they who bear the cross
     may hope to wear the glorious crown.”

    At first glance, it is a call to discipleship, a reminder to endure suffering, and a promise of eternal reward. But the hymn also mirrors the archetypal Hero’s Journey:

    • The Call to Adventure: The Savior invites each disciple to leave comfort behind, deny selfish desires, and step into a path of transformation.
    • Supernatural Aid: Divine strength sustains the believer, just as mythic heroes receive guidance and power from mentors or gods.
    • The Road of Trials: Enduring shame, temptation, and inner resistance is the crucible that refines courage, humility, and faith.
    • The Ultimate Boon: The crown at the journey’s end is victory over death and union with God—eternal life as the hero’s reward.
    • Return to the World: Though the cross is carried daily, the disciple’s journey inspires others, becoming a witness of hope and courage in the ordinary world.

    In essence, the hymn frames discipleship as a heroic quest. Each cross we bear is both trial and triumph, each act of faith a step along the path of transformation. It reminds us that true heroism is not the absence of suffering, but the courage to endure, the humility to trust, and the hope that, in the end, life’s ultimate reward is already glimpsed in faith.

    The lyrics are by: Everest, Charles William, M.A

    Written with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Humility Means Staying Close to the Ground

    Lessons from Jiu Jitsu, Scripture, and the Hero’s Descent

    We often think of humility as weakness, but it is really a strength. In a talk I heard today, the speaker said humility means being close to the ground. He used the example of Jiu Jitsu, a martial art strongest when practiced low to the floor.

    That picture opened other connections for me. Jordan Peterson has said that human beings were originally tree creatures — we stayed off the ground because it was unsafe. In myth, the “deep” often represents chaos — the water where danger and the unknown dwell.

    The hero, however, is the one willing to descend. He steps down into the unknown, into danger, into the deep, to face the dragon and gain something new. Humility is not about weakness; it is the stance of someone willing to learn.

    The adversary, in contrast, is proud. He refuses to bow, refuses to learn, and stays aloof from the ground.

    Where is God asking you to “stay close to the ground,” to take the low and humble place so you can learn what you need?

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT-5

  • Pilgrim and Hero: Two Paths, One Journey

    How the pilgrimage and the hero’s journey reveal our call to transformation

    When we speak of journeys, two powerful images come to mind: the pilgrim’s pilgrimage and the hero’s adventure. At first glance, these seem like very different paths. The pilgrim walks slowly toward a holy shrine, while the hero marches boldly into battle or descends into the unknown. Yet the more closely we look, the more we see that these two journeys are deeply connected.

    The Pilgrim’s Path

    A pilgrimage is a journey toward God. The pilgrim leaves behind the comfort of home, accepts hardship, and moves step by step toward a sacred goal. Along the way, he is changed—not only by the external trials of the road, but by an inner transformation. His destination is not simply a place but a Person: the living God who calls him deeper into union with Himself.

    The Hero’s Journey

    By contrast, the hero’s journey, as told in myth and story, is a passage into trial, danger, and transformation. The hero departs from the ordinary world, faces challenges, suffers losses, confronts evil, and returns home with new strength or wisdom to share. Though not always framed in religious language, the pattern points to something higher: that true growth requires leaving safety, facing suffering, and returning transformed.

    How the Two Overlap

    Looked at side by side, the pilgrim and the hero seem to walk parallel roads:

    • Departure – Both leave behind the ordinary world
    • Trial – Both endure hardship, temptation, and loss.
    • Transformation – Both emerge changed by what they encounter.
    • Return – Both bring something back: the pilgrim brings blessing, the hero brings wisdom.

    The difference lies mainly in their destinations:

    • The pilgrim walks toward God and the holy.
    • The hero seeks victory, meaning, or renewal.

    But even here, the two roads converge. For the Christian, every true quest for meaning ultimately points toward God, whether or not the hero realizes it.

    Can a Pilgrim Be a Hero?

    Yes. The pilgrim shows heroism not by slaying dragons, but by enduring the long road, the weariness of the body, and the trials of the spirit. His courage lies in perseverance, in choosing God above comfort, in taking one more step toward the holy.

    Can a Hero Be a Pilgrim?

    Yes again. Even when a hero is not explicitly walking to a shrine, his journey mirrors pilgrimage. His battles are stations on the way. His quest is a hidden search for the sacred. His transformation is a kind of conversion. In this way, the hero is a pilgrim without realizing it—walking toward the same mountain, but naming it differently.

    Two Roads, One Mountain

    Every pilgrim is a hero. Every hero is a pilgrim. One sets his eyes clearly on the shrine of God; the other may name his quest as truth, wisdom, or meaning. Yet in the end, both are called beyond themselves, both must pass through trial, and both are changed in the journey.

    And perhaps this is why these two images—pilgrim and hero—speak so powerfully to us. They remind us that every human life is a journey. Every road leads through suffering and transformation. And every true journey, if followed faithfully, brings us closer to the One who waits at the summit.

    ✨ What do you think? Can a pilgrim be heroic? Can a hero be a pilgrim? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
    If this reflection spoke to you, please like, share, and subscribe so others can join the journey.

    Developed with cooperation from ChatGPT

  • Valley of the Shadow of Death

    The choice of every lost soul can be expressed in the words: “Better to reign in hell than serve in Heaven”

    In the actual language of the Lost, the words will be different, no doubt. One will say he has always served his country right or wrong; another that he has sacrificed everything to his art; and some that they’ve never been taken in; and some that, thank God, they’ve always looked after Number One; and nearly all, that, at least, they’ve been true to themselves.

    There is always something they insist on keeping, even at the price of misery. There is always something they prefer to Joy – that is, to reality.

    Of some sinful pleasure they say: “Let me but have this, and I’ll take the consequences”, little dreaming how damnation will spread back and back into their past and contaminate the pleasure of the sin. 

    The process begins even before death. The bad man’s past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why the Lost will say: “We were always in hell”

    They are those to whom God says, in the end: “Thy will be done.” 

    All that are in hell choose it. Without that self-choice, there could be no hell.

    Ye can call those sad streets the Valley of the Shadow of Death. if they leave that grey town behind it will not have been hell. To any that leaves it, it is Purgatory.

    For those who remain there it will have been hell even from the beginning.

    C.S. Lewis – The Great Divorce

  • The Hero in the Margins

    Why the greatest stories often begin far from power — and what that means today

    When we think about heroes, we often imagine people with special powers or big titles. But in the real world — and in most great stories — heroes don’t start at the top.


    They start in the margins. In fact, that’s where the real transformation begins.

    What Do We Mean by “The Margins”?

    The margins are the places that feel far from the center.
    Not just physically — but socially, economically, or culturally.

    It might be:

    • A small town
    • A poor neighborhood
    • A group that doesn’t get much attention
    • Or someone who feels like they don’t fit in

    In today’s world, we often talk about “the marginalized” as people who need help. And while it’s true that life can be harder on the edges, it’s also true that powerful things grow there.

    Every Hero Starts Small

    Think about famous stories from history or religion:

    • Moses was in the wilderness.
    • David was just a forgotten shepherd.
    • Jesus came from a town nobody respected.
    • In mythology, heroes like Harry Potter lived in cupboards before they found their calling.

    They didn’t start in palaces. They started in places of struggle, loss, or invisibility. And that’s exactly why they changed.

    The Margin Builds Something the Center Can’t

    When you’re not in the spotlight, you gain other things:

    1. Clarity: You’re not surrounded by noise and pressure. You can see what matters.

    2. Creativity: With fewer tools, you learn to build smarter.

    3. Drive: When things are harder, you learn to push.

    4. Perspective: You know what it feels like to be left out. That shapes your heart.

    These qualities are what turn a person into a leader, a thinker, or a force for change.

    Why This Matters Now

    Today, we often try to “fix” the margins by making them more like the center. We offer comfort, attention, and resources — all good things. But what if we also need to look to the margins for leadership? What if the most important voices are not in the spotlight yet? What if the next big idea — or movement — is growing quietly on the edge?

    Don’t Just Help the Margins. Listen to Them.

    The margins aren’t just where people are struggling.

    • They’re where new stories are being written.
    • Where courage is being shaped.
    • Where heroes are being made.

    So yes — let’s support those in the margins.
    But let’s also remember: Heroes don’t come from the palace. They rise from the wilderness.

  • 🎺 Trouble in River City

    Why America Needs a Hero’s Journey, Not Just a Marching Band

    How The Music Man, myth, and modern comfort expose our spiritual apathy—and what we can do about it

    What if America’s crisis isn’t scarcity—but too much abundance with too little meaning?

    There’s an old quote—often attributed to Alexander Tyler—that outlines the cycle of civilizations. It begins in bondage, rises through faith, courage, and liberty, peaks in abundance, and then falls through complacency, apathy, and dependence, finally returning to bondage. If that cycle rings true, we have to ask: Where is America right now?

    Most signs point to somewhere between abundance → complacency → apathy. And that’s why so few seem interested in growing in faith, taking on responsibility, or answering the call of purpose. We’re not hungry for transformation—because we don’t feel the need.

    But here’s the problem: bondage doesn’t always look like chains.

    Sometimes, it looks like endless entertainment. Like ultra-comfortable lives that make us restless, numb, and detached. In other words, like a pool hall in The Music Man.

    🎱 “Ya got trouble… right here in River City!”

    In Meredith Willson’s The Music Man, Professor Harold Hill warns the town of River City that their boys are sliding into ruin—through the game of pool. Of course, he’s a con man, using fear to sell band instruments. But there’s an ironic twist:

    He’s right.

    The pool hall becomes a symbol of a deeper drift. The boys aren’t just wasting time—they’re losing direction, virtue, and vitality. Hill’s proposal—form a boys’ band—is more than a scam. It accidentally becomes a call to purpose, discipline, and beauty.

    That’s myth in action. Even flawed messengers can stir people toward the Hero’s Journey.

    🧭 Apathy is a disguised form of bondage

    In myth, bondage is always the starting point. Think of Israel in Egypt, Odysseus stranded far from Ithaca, or Luke Skywalker stuck on a desert farm. There’s always something wrong, and the Hero must see it before he can leave it.

    But what if the enemy isn’t external?
    What if it’s spiritual numbness?
    What if our “Egypt” is a dopamine-soaked feed full of shallow pleasures?

    In that case, we’re in bondage—and we don’t even know it.

    That’s why abundance alone won’t save us. It’s not enough to be comfortable—we need to be called. Until people realize they’re stuck, they won’t rise. And that’s where myth, music, and moral imagination can crack open a soul.

    🎺 The Band Must Play

    In the end, The Music Man is a strange but beautiful parable.

    • The boys need something higher to aim at.
    • The town needs to remember what virtue looks like.
    • And even the con man finds redemption when he stops running and chooses to care.

    Today, we don’t need another hustle. We need a band—a higher aim, a moral discipline, and a song to march toward.

    The Hero’s Journey always begins in bondage. But only if we see it. Only if we hear the call.

    So let the music start.

    Written in collaboration with ChatGPT (OpenAI, 2025)

  • Why Civilizations Collapse:

    What Myths Teach Us About the Fall of Democracies

    The Tytler Cycle isn’t just political theory—it’s the story of the soul, told in every great myth.

    “A democracy cannot exist as a permanent form of government. It can only exist until the voters discover that they can vote themselves largesse from the public treasury…”
     —Attributed to Professor Alexander Tytler (1787)

    You’ve probably come across some version of the so-called Tytler Cycle. It claims that all democracies follow a predictable pattern: from freedom to abundance, to complacency, to dependence, and finally back into bondage.

    For some, it’s just a cynical take on politics. But looked at through the lens of myth and archetype, it becomes something much more profound:

    It’s not just the fall of a government.
    It’s the rise and fall of the soul.

    The Cycle Through Mythic Eyes

    Let’s walk through the Tytler Cycle as a moral and spiritual journey—one that appears in countless myths and scriptures across time.

    🔗 Bondage → Spiritual Faith
     This is the beginning of the hero’s story. In myth, this is Egypt before the Exodus, the desert before the call, the dungeon before the sword is drawn. It’s when people suffer under something oppressive—and realize they can’t save themselves.

    Mythic truth: Suffering awakens the soul to something higher.

    🔥 Spiritual Faith → Courage
     Faith gives birth to boldness. This is Moses facing Pharaoh. It’s Odysseus setting sail. It’s the moment someone stops asking “Why is this happening to me?” and starts asking “What must I do?”

    Mythic truth: Faith creates purpose. Purpose demands courage.

    🗽 Courage → Liberty
     Through sacrifice, real freedom is earned. The tyrant falls, the dragon dies, the sea is crossed. Liberty here is not comfort—it’s earned order. It is hard-won.

    Mythic truth: Freedom without cost is not freedom.

    💰 Liberty → Abundance
     With order in place, prosperity grows. Cities rise. Systems thrive. The people enjoy peace. But this stage is where many heroes (and nations) fall asleep.

    Mythic truth: Abundance is not the goal—it’s the test.

    😴 Abundance → Complacency → Apathy
     Now the real decay begins. Warriors become managers. Builders become consumers. The sacred becomes boring. The heroic is replaced with the comfortable.

    Mythic truth: Without struggle, the soul forgets its mission.

    🧷 Apathy → Dependence → Bondage
     In the final stages, people no longer protect what they’ve inherited. They vote for comfort over courage, safety over freedom. The tyrant returns—this time invited.

    Mythic truth: The abandonment of virtue always leads back to slavery.

    The Eternal Message

    This isn’t just about nations. It’s about you.

    We all live through this cycle in miniature.
    When we stop striving, stop sacrificing, and stop remembering the cost of freedom—we fall.
    When we trade meaning for comfort, truth for ease, or courage for conformity—we begin the long slide back into bondage.

    But here’s the good news, written into every myth:The cycle is not inevitable.
     It can be broken—if the hero awakens.

    Developed with assistance of ChatGPT

  •  Is Procrastination Laziness or a Trauma Response?

    Understanding the Path to the Adversary

    You’ve probably heard it said—or told yourself—that procrastination is a sign of laziness. But what if it’s not? What if it’s something much deeper, more human, and more dangerous?

    A viral quote puts it like this:

    “Procrastination is not laziness. It is a trauma response.”

    At first glance, that may sound dramatic. But modern psychology—and ancient wisdom—both affirm the same truth: avoidance often hides fear, and fear often hides trauma.

    Trauma and the Freeze Response

    Trauma doesn’t always look like panic or breakdown. Sometimes it looks like numbness. Stillness. Delay.

    When our nervous system perceives danger, we might fight or flee—but we also might freeze. That’s where procrastination often lives. Not in comfort, but in a kind of paralysis. We avoid the task, not because we’re unmotivated, but because the task feels threatening. Failing might prove we’re unworthy. Succeeding might expose us to expectations we’re afraid to carry.

    So we wait. And wait. And beat ourselves up for waiting.

    Peterson: The Seed of the Adversary is Laziness

    Jordan Peterson often frames this “laziness” in moral and spiritual terms. In Maps of Meaning, he explores how small acts of avoidance can evolve into resentment, and then into outright destruction.

    The person who refuses responsibility becomes bitter. The bitter become vengeful. And eventually, the vengeful become adversaries—not just of others, but of Being itself.

    So what begins as “laziness” is often a refusal to confront suffering. But beneath that refusal is usually pain—unprocessed, unresolved, and growing in the dark.

    The Progression: From Trauma to the Adversary

    Here’s how it unfolds:

    1. Trauma — A betrayal, a failure, or a moment of chaos shakes our sense of order.
    2. Fear — We begin to dread further pain, judgment, or exposure.
    3. Avoidance — Procrastination kicks in, disguised as laziness.
    4. Stagnation — Inaction compounds. Life doesn’t move. Self-contempt grows.
    5. Resentment — We start blaming ourselves, then others, then the world.
    6. Formation of the Adversary — We harden into a posture of defiance or decay, no longer seeking healing—only power, revenge, or numbness.

    This is how the adversary is born: not in grand acts of evil, but in a thousand quiet refusals to face suffering with courage.

    The Hero Responds Differently

    The difference between the hero and the adversary is not that one suffers and the other doesn’t. They both suffer. The difference is what they choose to do with it.

    • The adversary avoids, freezes, and resents.
    • The hero confronts, moves forward, and transforms.

    To break the cycle of procrastination, we must stop condemning ourselves as lazy and start asking deeper questions. Where does this fear come from? What pain am I avoiding? What burden am I afraid to lift?

    Redeeming the Pattern

    If procrastination is a trauma response, then the solution isn’t punishment—it’s healing.

    That healing begins with:

    • Understanding that your inaction may be protective, not passive.
    • Compassion toward yourself as someone doing their best with past pain.
    • Courage to take one small step into the unknown—despite fear.

    You are not lazy. You are a soul that’s been wounded. But you don’t have to become the adversary. You can become the hero instead.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT

  • The Mythological Significance of Baptism

    How Christian Baptism Unites Us with the Hero’s Journey and the Cosmic Battle Between Order and Chaos

    Baptism Is a Myth Made Flesh

    Yes — Christian baptism is deeply mythological, in the truest and richest sense of the word.

    But let’s be clear: “mythological” here doesn’t mean false story. It means a symbolic narrative that expresses deep, eternal truths about human existence and the divine. In fact, in Jordan Peterson’s language:

    “Myth is a dramatic description of the patterns that govern our being.”

    Myths don’t compete with reality — they reveal it. And baptism is one of the clearest examples of that.

    Baptism as Myth-In-Action

    Baptism is not just a symbol — it’s a sacrament, which means it does what it signifies. But to grasp its full meaning, we need to see it through the mythological lens:

    1. Chaos and Creation

    • In Genesis, water represents chaos: the deep, the void, the unformed.
    • God brings life and order from it.
    • Baptism takes that chaotic symbol and makes it the very place of new creation — you are born again from the deep.

    2. Descent and Return (The Hero’s Journey)

    • Baptism imitates the classic pattern: death → descent → rebirth.
    • The baptized person “dies” with Christ and rises again in a new identity.
    • Like the mythic hero, the person descends into the unknown and returns transformed.

    3. The Great Battle and the New Kingdom

    • Christ’s baptism marks the beginning of His public mission — a battle against evil and a mission to restore the world.
    • Your baptism draws you into that same cosmic conflict: it ends your slavery to sin and brings you into the Kingdom of God.
    • In mythological terms, it is the transition from one world (chaos, tyranny, death) to another (order, truth, life).

    Why It Matters

    Baptism is not just an initiation rite. It is a real participation in the structure of meaning itself. It ties you personally to:

    • The universal drama of creation and chaos
    • The eternal role of the hero confronting the unknown
    • The sacrificial path of death and rebirth

    In a world where people are starved for meaning and afraid of the unknown, baptism reveals the ancient truth:

    You are meant to enter the chaos, confront it, and return renewed.

    Through baptism, you do that not alone, but through Christ — the True Hero, the Logos, who makes sense of the world.

    St. Paul Saw It Too

    When St. Paul writes:

    “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?… so that we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:3–4),

    he is thinking in mythological structure: a symbolic death and resurrection that becomes real in you.

    You are enrolled in the battle. You are joined to the Hero. You rise into the new world.

    Conclusion: Baptism as the Path of Meaning

    Christian baptism is mythic, sacramental, and real:

    • Mythic, because it speaks in the language of archetype and transformation
    • Sacramental, because it causes the very rebirth it symbolizes
    • Real, because it unites your personal story with the cosmic pattern of death and resurrection

    In a culture drowning in meaninglessness, baptism is the true Water of Life — and the gateway to becoming fully alive.

    Developed with assistance from ChatGPT

  • Even If You Don’t Come Back: The Hidden Hope of the Hero’s Journey

    An Easter Conversation on Risk, Myth, and Resurrection

    Q: My son made an interesting observation. He said that hero stories are “success-biased”—we only hear the stories of the ones who made it back to tell them. Most who go on the hero’s journey probably don’t make it back, and we don’t hear those stories. So maybe we’re misled in thinking it’s worth going. But I’ve been wondering: maybe the message of the myths is actually that it’s better to go and not make it back, than to never go at all?

    A: (from ChatGPT)
    That question hits right at the heart of what myth—and particularly the Christian story—has always tried to say. Yes, your son is absolutely right: hero stories are success-biased. They’re remembered because someone survived to tell them. And it’s true that most people don’t return from their battles unscarred—some never return at all.

    But that doesn’t make the journey meaningless.

    In fact, your reflection gets to something deeper—the idea that it is better to go and not make it back than never to go. That’s not just a mythic truth. That’s a Christian one.

    The Christian story flips the script on worldly success. It says: the one who loses everything is the one who gains it all. Jesus doesn’t return from His journey with treasure or a triumphal parade. He returns wounded, rejected, and killed—but through that death, He brings life.

    And the earliest Christians saw that. That’s why they remembered the martyrs—not for escaping suffering, but for embracing it with courage. That’s why they honored missionaries who died far from home, parents who quietly gave their lives for their children, and ordinary believers who bore their crosses unseen by the world. They didn’t make it back in any normal sense. But their stories became part of a deeper narrative of hope.

    The hero who never comes home still teaches us something profound:

    • That courage is not about guaranteed success.
    • That the going itself is transformative.
    • That the journey may be unfinished, but it is not wasted.
    • And that even death does not erase meaning—especially in light of Easter.

    The Resurrection is not just a happy ending—it’s the redemption of the journey that seemed like failure. It’s the great answer to your question: even if you don’t make it back, it was worth it. Because in Christ, nothing offered in love is ever lost.

    So yes—your question has merit, and your intuition is right. The hero stories may be success-biased, but the Gospel is sacrifice-biased. It tells us that the ones who go, even when they never return, are not forgotten. They are part of something eternal.

    And in that, there is real hope.