The Greatest Gift Ever!

He breathed on them and said to them,
"Receive the Holy Spirit." John 19:22

Today is a glorious day in the history of salvation. Pentecost. We hear in the Gospel those words I quote above, about how Jesus breathed on his disciples and gave them the Breath of God, the third Person of the Holy Trinity, the Holy Spirit!

This image of Jesus breathing on the Apostles instantly calls back to my mind another story from a bit further back in the bible. In the book of Genesis we hear the story of creation, and in the second creation story (Gen 2:7) when God, the Sacred Writer says, "breathed into his face the breath of life, and man became a living soul." In the begining of time, in the first creation, God breathed his very life into our first father Adam. This breath of life is what set him apart from all the rest of creation as unique, and treasured by God. This breath gave man a soul. He was rational, above all the stones, and plants, and animals. Not just the most developed, but truely of a whole different kind: in the image and likeness of God!

But this breath was tainted. Tinged with the sulferous air of sin. Our souls, our likeness to God, were injuried in that primal sin of the first man and woman. In their pride they sought to be like God, and sought to live independently from Him upon whom all things depend. Yet, even from the beginning, despite the fall of man, hardly a chapter later(Gen 3:15) in the Holy Writ, God promised a redemption: "I will put enmities between thee and the woman, and thy seed and her seed: she shall crush thy head, and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel." God has promised that the new Eve would crush the head of the dreaded serpant. That sin would be destroyed, and that the New Adam would be victorious over the sin of the former. Indeed, God has promised us redemption from sin- a New Creation!

Jesus has bought for us our redemption, and today our Lord consumates his promise of a New Creation. As he breaths on his beloved apostles, he again gives life to a living body. Only this time it is not a single man, but an entire nation. As Jesus breaths on his Apostles he breathes life into his Holy Body- His Church! The Holy Spirit whom was breathed forth from the mouth of the Resurrected Jesus is the very soul of the Church. He, the third person of the blessed Trinity, is the living principle at work in the members of the Church of God. For 2000 years the Spirit has been sanctifying the souls of the baptized, and bringing them to maturity in Christ, unto the fullness of his age!

It this Spirit who is at work in our lives making us holy. Jesus, by his perfect sacrifice paid off our debt to the Father, so that the walls of sin would be torn down, and we could be reconcilled with God. But it is the Spirit, as Saint Paul says, who allows us to cry out "Abba, Father" (Rom 8:15) as sons and daughters of God. It is the Spirit, who is poured out this Holy Day, who makes us partakers in the Divine Nature. (2 Peter 1:4) It is the Holy Spirit who makes us Saints. This is the gift which we recieve today! We recieve the Spirit of God. We recieve the Love of the Father and the Son, and in doing so we are caught up in their love and are able to love as they love! How glorious is the dignity of the Daughters and Sons of God who through the Spirit are called to so great a vocation!

I have one more image I wish to share with you to help illustrate the workings of the Holy Spirit in our lives. We hear in the first reading for today from the Acts of the Apostles about about how on the day of Pentecost there was a strong rushing wind that blew through the house as the Spirit came upon the Apostles gathered in the Cenacle. This image again reminds me of the book of Genesis where, admidst the the darkness and chaos before creation, the Spirit of God moved over the waters. It was the Spirit who created cosmos, order, and beauty out of the chaos and disorder which came before. I like the words in hebrew which describe this chaos. It says that all the world was all tohu and bohu! I cannot help but relate this work of the Holy Spirit on a grand scale to the smaller scale of our individual souls. As the Spirit ordered and beautified the chaotic darkness in creation, so does he bring cosmos and goodness to our souls out of the chaos- vertiable tohu and bohu- which exists in our souls when sin abounds in our lives! The Spirit comes and dwells in us and brings Godly order to our lives. He creates in us virtue and forms our lives into something beautiful for God. Every time we recieve the sacraments (especially the Blessed Sacrament with pure and properly disposed (without any mortal sins!) hearts) the Spirit comes into our hearts and brings his order to them.

This is the work of the Holy Spirit whom Jesus was so excited (he was really excited, just read the last chapters of Saint John's Gospel if you don't believe me!) to give to us. The Spirit is really the greatest gift ever! He is deemed the "Sanctifer" because it is his role amongst the persons of the Trinity to make all of us holy. He it is who is sent to all the people in the world to make them sons and daughters of God. He wants to flood our souls with his life and grace everyday! We are meant to have a never ending increase of his presence in our souls! We must merely become docile to his Divine work. The Church prays today- Veni Sancte Spritius! Come Holy Spirit! - let us join in the chorus of all the saints, living and dead, so that we might be inflamed as the holy apostles were that first Pentecost day with the love of the Holy Spirit. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit, with all his gifts and virtues, might live and reign in our hearts for ever and ever. Amen!

Home Cooking

Steaming yellow corn. Creamy mashed potatoes. Rich juicy hamburgers. A warm gooey brownie to top it all off for dessert. Siblings, nieces, and nephews circling around the crowded table. Mom and Dad making sure everything is set out and under control. Hours of catching up, politics, religion, and laughter.

I absolutely loved my time in Honduras, but after five months away there is nothing that compares to a home cooked meal. I could eat rice, beans, tortillas, and cheese all day. I have really fallen in love with Honduran food. But having been raised in the land of red, white, and blue, I will never get over my love of a juicy hamburger and fries. (to all of my vegetarian friends, my apologies). I can't really explain why I will never get over that love except to say that it just tastes really good.

Being back home on my week-long home visit, I have had plenty of opportunities to have some really good meals with a lot of saintly people, the most meaningful of which have been my family. Spending time with them the past few days I have realized that, like good home cookin', nothing can replace the good ole' family. Family is where everything starts: life, faith, education, relationships. I believe that so much of who we are comes from our parents, brothers, and sisters. Their love and example, no matter what distance or time, is irreplaceable.

My dad, brother and I were up talking last night until about midnight about the big questions in faith and life. My dad said something that really shocked and impressed me.

"If you're making a choice between what your head says and what your heart says, always go with your heart. You will never be wrong. It will hurt at times, but you will never be wrong."

That was coming from a man with a PhD in psychology! And he is absolutely right. Families come in all shapes and sizes, with all sorts of scars and bruises, but I think everyone can agree that families rooted in love are good things. What is more beautiful than a family that has embraced its heart and chosen to share its gifts with the world? It's what the holy family did 2,000 years ago and it's what is asked of our Catholic families today: that your family may be a place of love and as such an example of Christ to all inside and outside the family.

It is certainly in a parent to want their child to be successful or at least financially secure when they grow up. And it's certainly a kids desire to want to be well loved, happy, and accepted. These are all totally normal concerns, but we must keep them in check because those are all "head matters." First as a family we must follow the heart. We must, with God's blessing, face the true challenges of sin in our lives, search for our vocations, and open ourselves to the needs of the rest of the world. These are the heart matters. Address them first and the head matters will almost automatically fall into place.

I am thankful to be home these days with my family and have lots of really good home cooked meals. But even more, no matter how imperfect we are, I am thankful for the example of Christ each member of my family has been to me from the youngest baby to the oldest grandpa.

St. Ignatius' Gift to the Church

Shhhh...

Do you hear that?

......

No? I didn't think so. It's the sound of nothing.

Silence.

Today is a very special day for Peter. He is beginning his 8-day silent retreat based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. Being a Jesuit novice, a "son of Ignatius," it is an understatement to tell you how excited I am for him.

If you have ever been on a spiritual retreat, you may be able to attest to their power. Many life-changing retreats today find their spiritual roots to the 16th century and the founder of the Jesuits. St. Ignatius revolutionized the structure of retreats for common everyday people by turning them into a practical and accessible type of "spiritual boot camp." He led friends, classmates, politicians, clergy, beggars, and anyone else he met through what is now known as the Spiritual Exercises: a series of contemplations, meditations, and prayers all in silence to better know Christ and choose to follow Him more closely. Millions of people have gone through the exercises in their own way, as prescribed by St. Ignatius, and today are working as collaborators with Christ to spread the love of the Kingdom.

But for however revolutionary, effective, and personal the Exercises have been, all of those compliments and titles really mean nothing. The Exercises and all other retreats are for a single two-hinged purpose.

Hinge One.
To know that God is our Father. He has loved us since the time of creation. He has forgiven us with the life and death his one and only Son. And He continues to inspire us through the radically mysterious gifts of the Holy Spirit. God certainly is good. He is love. Nothing can compare. Over and over again, our concepts and rationality of Christ washes away to our relationship with Christ. In away, this hinge is basically the retreatant falling in love with God and all his goodness.

Hinge Two.
Eventually we come to the realization of our desire to pay God back in gratitude and joy. What else can we do with the love that has been freely given us than continue to freely share that same love. What else can we do than, "pay it forward?" More than "staying inbounds" or "getting an A," we have the radical desire to be disciples. We want to walk as Christ walked. We want to go into the world, spreading Christ's life, listening to His wisdom, making mistakes, and finding forgiveness. We want to walk to Jerusalem with Christ and along the way, share all we have learned to all we meet.

Christ certainly is alive and working in the world each and everyday. But in a very intimate and personal way, he is alive and working in the hearts and minds of women and men on a retreat. If you are considering any major decision, contemplating your vocation, or confused where your life with Christ is headed, make a retreat. It can be as long as 30 days or as short as 30 minutes. Just find a place in your day and in your heart where you hear nothing but silence. And then, get out the key, unlock your heart, and come face to face with Christ. He will fill you with what you need.

As Peter and his brother seminarians head into their 8-day retreat, please keep them and their directors in your prayers. And if you would like a saint to pray to for this, shoot some prayers St. Ignatius' way. It just so happens that he is the patron saint of retreats. Go figure!

Gifts of the Spirit

During this week between the Ascension and Pentecost the Church in her liturgy and in the hearts of the faithful cries out of the outpouring of the Spirit of God into our hearts. While I will wait until Pentecost itself to look a little more deeply into what the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives, I want to briefly look at one aspect of Catholic devotion to the Holy Spirit: The Gifts of the Holy Spirit. 

If you are at all like me you may have memorized these seven things as you prepared to receive the sacrament of Confirmation--and then proceeded to quickly forget them! However, believe it or not, these things are actually quite important to our sanctification! Saint Thomas Aquinas even goes so far to say that the cultivation of the gifts is a thing necessary to our salvation! That is a strong statement, and so I want to take a quick look at each of these gifts so that in these coming days we may be able to pray more fervently to the Holy Spirit to give them abundantly to us in our lives! 

Firstly, the great teachers of the Church have always seen the gifts of the Spirit as a supernatural aid which we receive through the sacraments which perfects our natural virtues. The 17th century theologian and commentator on Saint Thomas compared them to a divine wind. He saw our lives as a long voyage to a distant shore. On a natural level we are able to row towards our end with the help of the natural virtues like justice, temperance, fortitude, and prudence. But the gifts of the Holy Spirit are like a divine wind which comes us an catches the sails of the ship and allows us to easily, and without difficulty glide to our end- which is nothing else than eternal beatitude with God! 

These seven gifts then each work to perfect one of the four cardinal virtues or three theological virtues. When we become docile to their work in our souls we can quickly become great saints because then the Holy Spirit can really transform our lives! So here is a short explanation of each of them with their corresponding virtue, and short prayer for each one from a common novena from the Adoremus Society. May this help all of us to pray for fervently to the Holy Spirit in these next few days and all of our lives to enkindle the fire of Divine love in our hearts!

Wisdom: Perfects the virtue of Charity. This gift gives an ability to have a divine taste for things. By this gift we come to love the things that God loves, loving God above all things! It allows us to put the things in our lives are placed in proper order. 

Spirit of Wisdom, preside over all my thoughts, words and actions, so that in all things I may love God for His own sake above all things. Amen.

Understanding: Perfects the virtue of Faith. This gift gives us an insight into the mysteries of our faith such as the life of the Trinity, and the Divine Sacramental mysteries especially the Eucharist. It increases the strength of our faith so that we are able to more firmly hold the great truths of the Gospel which are our salvation.

Spirit of Understanding, teach and enlighten me, so that I may never waver in my faith, but enjoy true peace of mind and heart.

Knowledge: Perfects the virtue of hope. This gift allows us to judge properly the things of this world and our relation to God. It perfects hope because it shows us the truly transitory nature of things in this life and makes us desire above all things life with God in this life and the next. 

Spirit of Knowledge, teach me how to look at things in their true light, so that I may not be bound by earthly attachments, but ever rejoice in thy heavenly comforts.

Counsel: Perfects the virtue of prudence. This gift helps us to make decisions according to the will and providence of God. It allows us to make truly wise and godly choices in the daily events of our lives and to know and follow the vocation to which God is calling us. 

Spirit of Counsel, grant that I may always seek thy guidance, that my thoughts and actions may be informed by good judgment, and that whenever my advice is sought by others, it will be offered with kindness, prudence, truth, and in accordance with God’s will.

Fortitude: Perfects the virtue of fortitude. This gives us the strength to persevere amidst the smallest and the greatest of trials and crosses even unto giving up our very lives for the true faith of Catholicism and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

 Spirit of Fortitude, strengthen my weakness, so that I may never be discouraged by obstacles in the path of holiness and virtue, but may willingly accept the trials and difficulties of this life.

Piety: Perfects the virtue of justice. This allows us to truly give what to each what they deserve in particular giving to God the things he deserves by worshiping Him in rightly in spirit and truth. It also helps us to conduct affirms perfectly amongst our brothers and sisters, treating them with the dignity they deserve as son and daughters of so great a King. 

Spirit of Piety, implant in my soul filial love toward God my heavenly Father, and brotherly love for all, so that I may delight in the service of God and my neighbor.

Holy Fear: Perfects the virtue of temperance. This allows us to know more completely the greatness of our heavenly Father and to have a child-like fear which helps us to moderate our earthly passion for pleasurable things like food, drink and sex so that we might live lives pleasing to this great and mighty God.

Spirit of Holy Fear, keep me mindful of the infinite Majesty of God, keep me from all selfish desires and evil actions, that I may humbly serve God and others with a clean heart and clear mind.

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of thy faithful, and kindle in them the fire of your love! Amen. 

Pope Saint Pius X, May 8, 1907

PHOTO CREDIT: Bro. Lawrence Lew, O.P. 

The Joker Saint

If there was ever any doubt as to where I got my prankster traits from, no one need look further than my own father. He's the county court jester, the family harlequin, whose lame jokes make our eyes roll deep into our heads. He's even worse up at the parish; as a bass in the choir, I have my suspicions that his antics have led to his entire section being moved right up front. Don't worry, it hasn't phased him any... 

Trick candles on my great-great aunt's 90th birthday cake...

Hiding the newly-delivered pizza in the fridge and telling your then five-year-old blogger that he ate it all...

Warning my grandmother about a foul ball at the stadium (no where near her) and frightening her so that she spilled her beer all over the guy in the row in front of them...

And my fellow brother seminarians come up to me and say, "Now I know where you get it."

What? What's so wrong about wanting to sing "Eye Has Not Seen" on the Feast of St. Lucy? Why shouldn't we be able to hear each other bellowing through the halls (yes, even during Lent)? Finally, I've found a saint who understands my plight, who gets my need to have a good chuckle every once-in-a-while. His name is Philip Neri, and he's awesome.

Born in Florence in 1515 and ordained in 1551, this farcical father wasted no time in putting his people in stitches. Always one for spontaneity and practical jokes, Philip could be seen walking around Rome with half of his beard shaven off, the self-deprecation used as a form of humility. While people laughed and pointed, they also saw his bright, exuberant face and wondered what made him so happy. The wealthy came to him in droves, listening to his every word about Jesus and the faith.

Not at all amused by the sinfulness of the carnivals of the time, Philip created a place for young men to experience the true joys of life. The small oratory became known as the Congregation of the Oratory, a group of diocesan and religious priests. Also, as a spiritual director, he allowed his directees to wear their hair shirts--if they wore them on the outside of their clothes. As people laughed at them, they realized that humiliation was far more of an itch to endure; to do so for Christ's sake, however, was no laughing matter.

Here's a snippet of the type of impact Philip had on the people of Rome:

St. Philip Neri once gave a gossipy lady the following penance: "Go to the market, buy a chicken, and pluck it on your way back here, scattering the feathers as you walk. When you give me the plucked chicken, I'll tell you the rest of your penance."

The baffled woman did as she was told. After she handed the plucked chicken to the saint, he said, "Now that you've spread those feathers about, go pick them up."

"But, Father! It's impossible to know where they've all gone!"

"Just like the words of your gossip," he said.

I don't want to dismiss Philip's serious side, either. In fact, this saint had an intense conversion on the eve of Pentecost, 1544, at which what seemed like a great ball of fire came hurling down at him. After the ball entered his mouth, he was filled with a profound love of God that he knew he must serve the Lord always. As he said Mass, this priest would be filled with such ecstasy that he would take hours to adore the Blessed Sacrament.

Philip also popularized the Seven Churches Tour and Forty Hours devotion, two practices still alive today. In all that he did, Philip made sure that his ministry was never dull or insipid, but filled with the same fire for God that consumed Him. Humor was the means that Philip used to save souls, to meet people at their level and bring them--laughing--to God.

I could ramble on about Philip's hilarium vitae, but I won't. The important thing to remember is how Philip was willing to receive the Lord's grace and the gifts He had bestowed upon him. He possessed great energy, charm, humor, and humility, and used these gifts to build up the Kingdom of God! It doesn't matter how well you'd perform on "Last Comic Standing"; it does matter how you bring souls home to Jesus Christ. Philip was innovative and put his blessings to use.

So what about my dad and me, the real-life Family Circus? What are we to do with our uncanny ability to make even the most stoic begin to snort? We have to keep doing it in Jesus' name! Under St. Philip's patronage, hopefully we'll be laughing out loud with the Joker Saint and many others in paradise...

Information on St. Philip Neri from Catholic.com and EWTN Online.

In Memoriam

On this day, when many of us have the privilege of having the day off from work or school, it's important for us to remember why we can lounge around the house and barbecue. The men and women who have served our nation so bravely should be honored for their efforts.

I'd like to share my reflections on Memorial Day from a somewhat unique perspective:

Above my reading chair in my room at the seminary hangs a picture of my great-uncle, a Franciscan friar. He's celebrating Mass, at what seems like the beginning of the Eucharistic Prayer. It's an amusing shot, actually; it's taken from the back of the congregation, where it's quite obvious that not all the people in the congregation are paying attention.

I never knew my great-uncle, but I know him because of his reputation. His best friend, also a Franciscan who recently passed away, spoke volumes of him to me. "You would have loved him so much," he often said. But, I didn't even need his friend's adulation to love him; I only have to look at the picture. After all, a picture speaks a thousand words.

That old saying is so true when it comes to the picture hanging in my seminary room. My great-uncle has a look on his face which shows that there's a lot on his mind, far more than a thousand words. In truth, I know he's thinking and praying for his parishioners, the ones who fill his rather ruddy-looking church, only half of them paying attention.

If every picture tells a story, then this picture tells an anthology. Of course his church was ruddy; it was a field in Vietnam. And of course some of his parishioners are distracted and unfocused; they're about to head into combat. And, of course my great-uncle is praying for these men; they are his flock. The picture is so moving; it's no wonder people think I cut it out of a magazine.

I've tried several times to picture myself as one of the soldiers at that Mass in Vietnam. The truth is that I can't; I'm not sure I'll ever be able to. I don't know what it is like to prepare for battle (and in this case, for a battle that people don't support back home). These men--no, boys--have experienced a fear, a surge of courage and honor, a sense of duty that I will never quite possess. They, along with so many others, fought for my freedom. I look at them in awe.

There is one person in the photograph that I pray I may one day comprehend. It's my great-uncle. It's not because of our relation; it's because he's a priest. Someday I pray that God will permit me to take the host into my unworthy hands and, through the Holy Spirit, transform bread and wine. Just as my great-uncle offered up the souls of those soldiers at the sacrifice of the Mass, so too does every priest lift up his flock as they face their daily struggle, the combat of the life in Christ. 

Oh how so many people have served; I hope that I may faithfully serve as well. In the meantime, we have the memories and photographs of those who have fought for freedom--for country and God--to lead us on our way.

Let us thank God for those who have served so well. In their memory, we pray.

PHOTO CREDIT: Arlington Cemetery

Finding Him Who Has Left

"We can claim a great high priest, and one who has passed right up through the heavens, Jesus the son of God." Hebrews 4:14

Centuries ago, when men of science were not provided with precision instruments, our whole view of the universe was earthbound; the stars looked small, and close to us, and friendly, and you could debate, in all seriousness, whether the sky was not a dome of crystal. It was easy for an artist, in those days, to represent the whole mystery of our Lord's Ascension into heaven as a single piece of composition. There, on a grassy slope at the bottom of the picture were the apostles, all kneeling, all looking in the air; above them spread a light barrier of fleecy cloud; and above that again was the figure of our Lord, still carrying the banner of his Resurrection, making his way upwards towards the jewelled throne on which the eternal Father was seen awaiting him. But for that barrier of cloud, you felt the whole process would have been visible to human eyes; heaven was a close as that, just up in the air. It was a wonder, on a fine day you did not catch a glimpse of it.

Today, the men of science have educated us, and we can no longer feel at home in the cosy fairy-land of medieval thought. We know what it is to climb above the clouds, and the intense dreariness of that upper air in which the world seems far behind you, and you are not nearer heaven. Nor have we reached the end of it; already men are working out programs of interplanetary travel. Beyond these stars, with which we see ourselves, before long, on visiting terms stretch remote areas of which the solar system is only a neglected corner. And (we say to ourselves) if Jesus of Nazareth really started out from some mountain in Palestine, to make his way up, up beyond the furthest star, how many light-years must his journey have taken? Can we be sure he has reached heaven yet? We turn away from the mystery with baffled minds. We can still contemplate, devoutly enough, the manner of our Lord's coming to earth; the Christmas crib has not lost its appeal, after all these centuries. But, the manner of his leaving it- we cannot contemplate that without a hundred distracting speculations.

The apostle tries to make it easier for us by writing the words I quote to you just now, "We can claim a great high priest, and one who has passed right up through the heavens, Jesus the son of God." He was writing for the benefit of his Jewish fellow countryman, and he uses terms which will be familiar to them. Under the old dispensation, one part of the tabernacle, and afterwards of the temple, was curtained off in darkness to serve as the innermost shrine, the holiest place of all. Only once a year was the curtain drawn aside, only once in the year did any human foot tread there, and that was on the day of Atonement, when the high priest, after doing sacrifice, went in there and sprinkled the blood of the victim, to make amends for his own faults, and those of the people. Just so, our Lord offered the perfect sacrifice of his own death; and as he did so, the veil that hung between the most holy place and the rest of the temple was torn, we read, from top to bottom. The fact was symbolic of the occasion. For our Lord, having offered the perfect sacrifice, ascended into heaven, tore aside the veil of mystery that hangs between earth and heaven, went, once for all , into his Father's presence to make atonement for your sins and mine.

To us, they seems remote and shadowy, these comparisons drawn from the rites of yesterday. Shall we, instead think of our Lord's Ascension in terms of the Christian sacrifice? Think of him as the priest going up to the altar, going up, going away from us. Think of our Lord, in his Ascension, as the priest climbing the altar steps; going up, going away from us, and yet not exactly leaving us behind. No, in a sense he takes us with him; takes our sins with him, to ask forgiveness of them, takes our needs with him, to plead them before God, takes with him, above, our offering of Love.

Our High Priest, we call him, for it is the business of a priest to meditate between man and God; and no one could do that perfectly except he who is both God and Man. And it is his humanness that we chiefly remember, when we think about the mystery of his Ascension; if I may quote once more from the Epistle of the Hebrews, "It is not as if our high priest was incapable of feeling for us in our humiliations; he has been through every trial, fashioned as we are, only sinless." Since he went up into heaven, a cloud has concealed him from our sight; it has not concealed us from His. He knows our individual needs, and can feel for them, because he has had such needs himself. Oh, it is foolish of us, no doubt, to ask for sympathy in that way; we know, of course that the divine nature is all-merciful -how else could it be divine? But somehow it makes it easier for us to focus our minds on the lovingness of God, if we can tell ourselves that Jesus Christ is in the bosom of the Father- Jesus Christ, who rested his head, at the last supper on the bosom of a human friend. He has known all our trials, bourne all the weaknesses that are a true part of our nature, been helpless in Mary's arms, hung desolate on the cross. "Gall and wormwood", we say to him with Jeremias, "gall and wormwood, keep all this well in memory" and our gall and wormwood becomes less bitter to us because we know that he remembers.

Since the Ascension, we have found it easier to realize the love of God, because it is mirrored for us in the human sympathy of Jesus Christ. But there is something else, since the Ascension, it has been easier for us to imagine heaven as a desirable goal. Try as we will, the idea of heaven eludes us. Are we to think of it as a place, from which every element of unhappiness is excluded? But we know how much more our love of places is condition by moods and sentiments , by the the desire for change by association and by history! Or are we to think of it as a state? But then, how are we to think of a state except in terms of selfish enjoyment? Or should we look forward to being reunited with those we have loved? But how frail they are, these earthly bonds; how time impairs them! No, when we have tried everything, we shall find not better window on eternity than St. Paul's formula, "To depart and be with Christ."If he has left us, and gone to heaven, it is so that we may no longer be disconcerted by the barrier of cloud that stands between us and it. We are not concerned to "go" here or there, to be in this or that state of existence. We want to find him. 

-Monsignor Ronald Knox, May 1948, Ampleforth Abbey, England in his Pastoral Sermons (Sheed and Ward 1960)

IPF

Well, tomorrow I leave for Omaha to attend the Institute for Priestly Formation. I'm rather looking forward to learning more about spirituality; anything that will help me grow in my love for Christ is a welcomed gift!

About 180 seminarians from across the United States will be in attendance at the program; it will also be a blessing to meet and form friendships with future priests from across the country!

I still plan on blogging frequently along with Paul and Andrew during the ten weeks at IPF, though I will take a brief hiatus during our eight-day Ignatian retreat. Please pray for me that I may be receptive to God's grace and allow Him to make my heart like unto His.

My prayers to all of you! Make sure you wear sunscreen to the pool this weekend!

-Peter

PHOTO CREDIT, Gocreighton.com

The Lawnmower and Sin

I had always been enamored with our lawn mower. Red, shiny, the smell of gas and the loud roaring; it was so enticing! As a five-year-old, the lawnmower symbolized all the things I wasn't aloud to do because I wasn't an adult. My father sternly told me to stay away from the mower, and gave me one of my own instead. Mine only spewed out bubbles; dad's spewed out grass...and glory.

One afternoon my chance to get acquainted with the big mower finally came. I played on the back patio while my dad mowed beneath the brutal sun. My mom then appeared at the back door, waving her arm at my dad; he had a phone call. As he walked inside the house, I leaped up and approached the beast which shone in the midst of the partially-mowed lawn.

There it stood, in all its splendor. Because it was forbidden--and since no one was looking--I moved in slowly to see the wheels, the shiny base, and the bag which held all the grass clippings. Oh how I wanted to be like my dad and use the real lawn mower, to fill it with gasoline and start up the motor!

It was then that I saw the motor, glimmering in the sun. I reached out to touch it, and...

OWWWW! MAAAAA!!!! AHAAAAH!!!!!

I am reminded of this painful childhood memory when I'm preparing to go to Reconciliation. When I think about why I'm tempted to sin, I realize that it's something that I can't have, that's forbidden for my own good! Oh how easy it would be to borrow the essay my friend wrote last year, to participate in the slander of some priest or sister, or drop a few curse words to fit in with a crowd. Oh how shiny and delectable those possessions seem, or the enticing images which roar through the backyard of my consciousness. Let's not forget the sin which fuels them all, the pride which is poured into the engine of gluttony, wrath, and greed. The motor of sin burns, dear friends.

Despite the stern warning from our Father, we choose to investigate anyway. Even when he provides us with good things and gives us defenses against the lure of sin, we can't but help to see what it's all about. It's our concupiscence, the stain of Original Sin, which compels us to leave the secure confines of God's infinite love and wander out on our own. Whether we realize it or not, all we receive from sin is a pain which sears into the depths of our souls, a pain which burns far more than the momentary satisfaction we get when we fail to do what is holy, what is right and of God.

And are we left alone to bear the burns of our disobedience? Of course not! Jesus hears the wails and cries from our souls and comes running out to console us, to bring us back to the Father's house, to tend to our injuries. Through Reconciliation, Christ applies a healing salve to our souls and comforts us in our sadness. He invites us to renew and begin again the work of proclaiming His Good News!

I certainly felt a lot better when my mom sat and iced my fingers; instead of yelling at me, my parents explained that this was why they had wanted me to stay away from the lawn mower, so that I would not get hurt. Between sniffles I managed to tell them I was sorry for not listening; they gave me a hug and said they loved me. While my fingers still bore the blisters from the lawn mower's motor, I felt well enough to get back to my playtime.

It's too bad my analogy of staying away from the lawn mower didn't work when I began mowing the lawn ten years later. Thankfully God still promises to make our burdens light!

PHOTO CREDIT, Amazon.com

Hands of Chrism

As we seated ourselves in those highly-polished pews, Father gripped on to the ambo for a moment, as though to collect his thoughts. His weathered furrowed brow bore a few more wrinkles than I was used to. 

Instead of talking about the reading or the Gospel, Father spoke about the priesthood. He informed us of the upcoming ordination of priests from our diocese; while he was grateful for the fair number he told us how desperately we needed more men to answer the call. I looked around to see the other young men in the congregation stirring in their pews as well.

Father then divulged the real reason he wanted to talk about vocations; it was the 31st anniversary of his ordination to the priesthood. He told us how blessed and privileged he was to be able to serve the people of God, and hoped that might continue to faithfully shepherd the flock as long as the Lord required. The lump which had been forming in my throat grew larger at these humbling words.

Of course I was meant to visit that parish and hear that beautiful homily. It struck me how much Father loves the priesthood, loves the people whom he serves so dedicatedly. His words might be slurred and his steps aren't as steady as they once were, but he is still faithful to his priestly vows. His hands still bear the Chrism of long ago. That's what struck me the most; he is God's.

As I inch towards my own ordination, I do so with much fear and trembling. It's beginning to dawn on me how I don't have it all figured out or how much more I need to pray. And, as these humble men with faded clerics get up each day and offer bread and wine to their Maker, I start to cower when I think of how unworthy I truly am, no matter my GPA or the compliments I receive. Yet, as my spiritual director reminds me, St. Paul took up his sword despite his insufficiencies; he says that God told him: "My grace is sufficient for you; for power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor 12:9).

Or, as a fellow seminarian brother loves to say: "God does not call the qualified; He qualifies the called." We need only to respond to His invitation, and He will supply the rest. I only hope that we may be as faithful to Christ as the priests who have gone before us. I hope more men my age will realize that God is calling them to share in this most beautiful calling.

So what about these aged men with frayed purple stoles, who hear our sins and hold them within the recesses of their hearts? Those who have been there for ice cream sundaes and suicides, marriages and miscarriages? They need young men with sharp eyes, strong shoulders, and open hearts to bear the loads, the Cross which they have bore so faithfully. As they hear "Well done, my good and faithful servant," young men need to be willing to hear the words of their bishop: "May God who has begun the good work in you bring it to fulfillment."

The Apostle of the Holy Name

St Bernardine, whose feast we celebrate today, was born September 8, 1380, in Massa Marittima, in the territory of Siena, Italy. His life was an example of holiness expressed in his love for God and his fellowman. During an outbreak of plague in 1400 he volunteered to care for the people who were sick, stopping only when he himself became ill. In 1402 he entered the Franciscan Order and was ordained in 1404.

Commissioned to preach in 1405, St. Bernardine is best remembered as an excellent preacher who drew very large crowds and who frequently focused his sermons on devotion to the Holy Name of Jesus. 

Here is an exert from one of this beautiful sermons from today's Divine Office: 

"The name of Jesus is the glory of preachers, because the shining splendor of that name causes his word to be proclaimed and heard. And how do you think such an immense, sudden and dazzling light of faith came into the world, if not because Jesus was preached? Was it not through the brilliance and sweet savor of this name that God called us into his marvelous light? When we have been enlightened, and in that same light behold the light of heaven, rightly may the apostle paul say to us: One you were in darkness, but now you are light in the Lord; walk as children of light. So this name must be proclaimed, that it may shine out and never be suppressed. But it must not be breached by someone with sullied mind or unclean lips, but stored up and poured out from a chosen vessel...and so the Church, the bride of Christ strengthened by the testimony of the Holy Apostles, rejoices with the psalmist, singing: O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I proclaim your wondrous deeds. The psalmists exhorts her to do this, as he says: Sing to the Lord, and bless his name, proclaim his salvation day after day. And this salvation is Jesus, her savior."

To assist him in promoting such devotion, St. Bernardine designed a symbol which he displayed during his sermons. It consisted of an abbreviated form of the name of Jesus at the center, surrounded by a blazing sun.

Soon the symbol began to appear on buildings and in the homes where St. Bernardine had spoken. The use of his own symbol to promote devotion to the Holy Name of Jesus was disapproved of by some people of his time and charges of heresy were made against St. Bernardine. He was found innocent by Pope Martin V, testifying to the worthiness of his life and his chosen apostolate. 

St. Bernardine's tireless commitment to spreading the Good News to all people remained until the very end of his life. In 1444 he set out to preach in Naples, a location he had visited only briefly once before; en-route he fell ill with fever. He was taken to the convent of St. Francesco where he died on the Vigil of the Feast of the Ascension. He was canonized May 24, 1450, six years after his death.

As we celebrate the memory of this great disciple let us call upon that most Holy Name which was always upon Saint Bernardine's lips for the grace to be a witness Jesus Christ this day and all the days of our lives!

O Jesus, lover and savior of my soul, have mercy on me!

More Faith!

There was once a young man who went to Calcutta India to work with Mother Teresa and her incredible sisters. This young man felt called to serve the poor and to answer Christ's call to love one another, as he has loved us. He was drawn to Mother, the sisters, and their incredible witness to Faith and true Christian Charity. After a couple weeks helping out in the streets and in the hospitals this young man was experiencing a great struggle about what to do with his life. 

This state of confusion or doubt about our vocations and about how God is call us to serve him and his Church. And our reaction to such a state is probably similar to what this young man's was. He went to Mother and asked her (in a paraphrased form),

 "Mother, please pray for me that I may know what God wants to do with my life. Pray that he will show me what I am supposed to do." 

How many times I know I have prayed this prayer- asking God to show me (a burning bush would be great) what his desire for my life is. Yet, Mother's response was perhaps not exactly what he expected or even was hoping for. She told this young man, in a strong yet loving voice, 

"I will not pray for you (that would have taken me aback!) that you may know what God wants you to do. But I will pray for you to have more faith! For that is what you need. More faith that you will accept whatever situations and persons that God puts in your life. It is not for us ask for clear signs, but we must only plead for more faith so that we may trust wholly in God."

When I first heard this story, I was really struck by it because it was not what I had expected. But, as I have continued to think about it and pray over it, I have come to see that this saintly woman struck at the hear of what our prayer must be. Our daily prayer must be for ever greater faith. That no matter what or who we confront each day we might approach it all with complete faith and trust in Jesus. For with utter faith and abandonment to God's will we are able to not longer worry about the future, but only accept it with trust in our heavenly Father. This is not easy, but that is why we need to pray! Everyday, every moment, for greater faith, leading to a sure hope and fervent love! 

An Act of Faith

O my God, I firmly believe that you are one God in three divine persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I believe that your divine Son became man and died for our sins, and that he will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe these and all the truths which the holy catholic Church teaches, because you have revealed them, who can neither deceive or be deceived. Amen.

On Notre Dame

Well, the time has come. President Obama is set to give his commencement speech to the 2009  graduating class of the University of Notre Dame. A controversy from the get-go, Mr. Obama's presence in South Bend this weekend has caused quite a ruckus, indeed:

-77 bishops openly denounce the invitation by ND President, Rev. Jenkins

-Mary-Ann Glendon refuses to accept Laetare Medal

-Former candidate for president Alan Keyes is arrested for protesting at ND

-Abp. Burke of the Apostolic Signatura says invitation "is of the greatest scandal"

-$14 million of support is withdrawn by ND alumni

-Oh, and a graduation is tarnished, honestly, by both sides.

Yes, both sides. For one, the administration of Notre Dame has greatly disappointed Catholics in America. As a benchmark of American Catholicism, Notre Dame should have realized the outcome of such an invitation, or, realistically, should have had the prudence not to have invited the least pro-life president to speak at its commencement and receive an honorary degree. Sadly, such actions reflect a growing number of Catholic institutions which view their religious affiliation as more of a burden than a blessing, ever-trying to shirk their responsibility to uphold the teachings and Tradition of Holy Mother Church.

And the other side, the ones protesting off campus? Not much better, honestly. As graduates and their families drive up to campus to see the despicable display--pictures of bloody aborted children, signs damning Fr. Jenkins and Mr. Obama, and screaming fanatics being dragged away in hand cuffs--what will go through their minds? Unbelievable. Those loonies. Fundamentalists. Catholics. 

I shudder every time I see such displays on the March for Life; in my humble opinion, this type of protesting only furthers hatred and stifles all dialogue. Such acts and chants ("Hey hey! Ho ho! Roe v. Wade has got to go!") are just nauseating to me; they detract from the simple witness and turn what should be a prayerful protest into a debacle plastered all over the network media. My praying of the Rosary is far more effective than a night in South Bend's jail, Mr. Keyes.

Thankfully there are some--like my mother's group--who won't be yelling at graduates or holding signs calling Fr. Jenkins the Devil. Instead they have gained entrance to the Basilica of the Sacred Heart; Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament and Benediction was led by Bishop of Fort Wane-South Bend, Indiana, John Michael D'Arcy. Bishop D'Arcy has opposed the "circus-like" atmosphere mentioned above, saying that such demonstrations are "unseemly and unhelpful." Thank God for the witness of this bishop and these faithful Catholics! Their prayers will serve as the salve placed on the sores surrounding the campus today.

More than anything, folks, we need to pray as well. And, while I'm grateful that you took the time to read my rather obvious reflections on Notre Dame's commencement exercises, I hope you will join me in asking the Notre Dame to intercede for us, that we all--choice and life alike--may be more attuned to Christ's will. A great change is needed indeed, one that must reach far beyond the plush lawns of our universities; it must dwell within our hearts as well.

"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy might be complete."

-John 15:11, from today's Gospel.

PHOTO CREDIT: Ben Lechlitner, Wiki Commons

Flannery on Why I'm Not a Novelist

A quick post today (wedding, etc.) from an essay by Flannery O'Connor in a collection of her essays entitled Mystery and Manners. The following passage reminded me, as the title of the post suggests, why I'm not a novelist:

"I collect articles from the Catholic press on the failures of the Catholic novelist, and recently in one of them I came upon this typical sentence: Why not a positive novel based on the Church's fight for social justice, or the liturgical revival, or life in a seminary?

I take it that if seminarians began to write novels about life in the seminary, there would soon be several less seminarians...."    -195

Amen, Flannery. What we need is for more Catholics to become novelists, to challenge the status quo which has crept into the "New Fiction" section of our local bookstores. There are many already, and I thank them. But, where's our generation's Flannery? Or Evelyn Waugh? Where's the modern-day Brideshead Revisited?

As much as I would love to write the next great Catholic novel, I wouldn't know where to begin. Besides, it's not my calling. I've been called to save souls in another way.

I desist. But I don't think that Flannery would mind about blogging, if she were here to tell us. Our little ministry has, as of now, been a more of a blessing than a hindrance. Others, too, have said the same. As long as our grades, humility, and fingers keep up, we'll continue to blog about "life in the seminary" and much much more. Just no novels!

Peace.

Little Wisdom

Fr. Pedro Arrupe, SJ, was father general of the Society of Jesus from 1965-1983. His memory remains strong within the Society. I have yet to visit a Jesuit residence that does not have have a picture of Arrupe hanging somewhere in the building. Even though his leadership was marked with some turbulent years within the Church, Society, and world, Arrupe is still known among Jesuits for his dynamic yet humble spirit. I share with you today probably his most famous quote. I think it contains some great advice for discernment...

"Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend you weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."

I have had the pleasure to meet many young people the past few years who are seriously discerning their vocation. These young women and men aren't spending their time discerning for better money, security, or credentials. They are discerning, in my humble experience, because they have tasted love in one way or another; after tasting it, they desire more. The artificial love that is so prevalent in our culture just won't satisfy them anymore. Neckties, PS3s, Kenwood speakers, season football tickets, and even volunteerism won't work to fill the hunger. Those things are all nice in their own way, but what do they mean to a person once he has tasted love--once he has been part of a life-changing retreat, adoration hour, relationship, mission trip, or Mass?

Over time talking with these people and looking into my own vocation, I have begun to accept the maxim that "the design is in the details." Our vocations are obviously "big deals" and as such they are hard to fully grasp within our spiritual field of view. Trying to fit something way too big into our heads can be frustrating. However, we can very often see best God's desires by looking to the details of our lives. We see our callings by openly and generously looking to "what you are in love with, what seizes your imagination" with the full confidence that it really will affect everything.

Where did I go today? What did I watch? What made me laugh? What pissed me off? With whom did I talk? What did I hope for? These questions can become boring and repetitive, but after a while they start creating a mosaic of God's plan for our lives. Every once in a while if we look back, to our surprise we realize that there actually was (and continues to be) a plan to this life. God really is using me and wants me for more.

The other day I was exhausted playing with kids at the parish orphanage. I tried hiding at a picnic table a while from the kids to get a couple minutes of quiet. The only problem is that kids have some kind of honing device implanted into their heads that allow them to always track you out. Four year old, Juan Pablo (yes, named in honor of John Paul II) was the first to come over to the table.

"Hey, buddy. What are you here for?"

"mmmmm...."

Knowing he's named for the pope, he always makes me think of the Mass.

"Are you here for the Mass?" I smile and ask.

"¡Sí!" He shouts back in joy to my surprise. I can't help but laugh.

"Okay, Juan Pablo, let's start."

"In the name of the fadder, and of da son, and of da howy spiwit. amen!"

"Very good. Now let's sing a song, okay?"

"Wait, Padre, wait! I have leaves." Juan Pablo proceeds to take out two leaves hidden somewhere under his shirt and place them sticking up on the table.

"Leaves? For what?"

"For Jesús! The big one is for him!"

"Oh. I see. And the little one?"

"For María!"

By this time three other four-year-olds had circled around the table with their own gifts of sand, broken toy wheels, and plastic tea cups found around the yard to be used as "gifts for the Mass."

"Juan Pablo, this is perfect. Thank you."

"Okay, Padre, let's go to the Mass, now."

"Okay, Pablo, let's go."

That "Mass," all theological and liturgical critiques aside, was the highlight of my day. Maybe my week. I told everyone here in town about it. It blew me away that a four year old could connect a certain reverence with the Mass and lead others to the same.

PHOTO CREDIT, Company Magazine, vol. 181

Replacing No. 12

There, in the midst of around one hundred twenty people. Peter stood up and addressed all present. It had come to his attention that there should be a replacement for Judas Iscariot, the one who had betrayed Jesus, leading to His Crucifixion. Remembering the deeds of Judas and his subsequent suicide Peter quoted the Psalmist in hopes that the prophecy might be fulfilled:

"'Let his encampment become desolate, and may no one dwell in it.' And: 'May another take his office.'" (Psalm 69:25, quoted in Acts 1:20).

That other was Matthias, one who had been with Jesus from the beginning, and, according to the qualifications Peter requires in Acts 1, was also present when Jesus appeared to them at the time of His Resurrection.

In a homily on the Acts of the Apostles, St. John Chrysostom has this to say about the call of Matthias:

"And they all prayed together, saying: You Lord, know the hears of men; make your choice known to us. You, not we. Appropriately they said that he knew the hearts of men, because the choice was to be made by him, not by others."

In the decision to select the next apostle, the disciples fully relied on signs from God as to whom they should choose. How fitting it is, then, that Matthias' name means "Gift of Yahweh" in Hebrew!

Matthias is an important saint for all of us because of his call to join the eleven in the task of evangelization. We, too, have been chosen by God to spread the love of Christ to all nations, to everyone we meet. We meet the qualifications through our Baptism; we have been with Christ from the beginning, and know full well of His triumphant rising on the third day. Ever-dependent on Him to guide us to know His will, we eagerly unite ourselves to the faithful followers, who perform works of love in His name!

This may sound daunting, but it can be so simple as well. Can't such evangelization begin with a smile to a stranger, or a waving in for the guy who's already half-way in your lane on the road? By starting small, we can slowly lead others to feel the same joy we experience, the Resurrected Christ within our midst.

May St. Matthias be an example for us as we march forth as members of Christ's glorious Church!

Our Lady of Fatima

On this day in 1917 three young children were pasturing their sheep in a depression on a hill called the Cova da Iria, and before them appeared a lady dressed in white, shining brighter than the sun, giving out rays of clear and intense light. She said to them "Please do not be afraid of me, I am not going to hurt you." One of the three children, named Lucia, asked this beautiful lady where she came from, and the lady replied, "I come from Heaven." 

The Lady wore a pure white mantle, edged with gold and which fell to her feet. In her hands the beads of a rosary shone like stars, with its crucifix the most radiant gem of all. Still, the young girl Lucia felt no fear. The Lady's presence produced in her only gladness and confident joy. "And what do you want of me?" Lucia asked.

The Lady replied, "I want you to return here on the thirteenth of each month for the next six months, and at the very same hour. Later I shall tell you who I am, and what it is that I most desire. And I shall return here yet a seventh time."

This was the beginning of a series of apparitions by this Lady in White whom we now know as Our Lady of Fatima.

The Blessed Mother kept her promise to these three amazing children, Lucia, Jacinta, and Francisco, and continued to appear to them over the next six months until the last apparition on 17 October 1917. In these visits Mary told the children many things, but the central message which she emphasized was the power of Mary's intercession especially through the praying of the Rosary.

Mary told the children in her first visit, "Say the Rosary every day, to bring peace to the world and an end to the war." She wanted to remind the world that our prayers to Mary and her Immaculate Heart are the a sure and effective way to bring God's Kingdom to Earth. She especially promised that through the faithful daily recitation of the Rosary many souls would be saved and peace in the world would be accomplished.

She even revealed to the children, in the second apparition, a new prayer which has become a nearly universal part of the Holy Rosary: Mary said, "I want you to continue saying the Rosary every day. And after each one of the mysteries, my children, I want you to pray in this way: O my Jesus, forgive us our sins , save us from the fire of hell. Take all souls to heaven, especially those who are most in need."

As we celebrate this feast in honor of our Blessed Mother Mary, let us make a commitment to consecrate ourselves to her Immaculate Heart and to the faithful praying of her powerful Rosary. I know that it can seem like a difficult practice to begin, because our days are so busy, so full of work and commitments. But, as our world gets darker and darker, we need the help and intercession of Mary, especially under her title of Our Lady of Fatima. We all can find fifteen minutes in a day- even if it is spread out in the day, one decade at a time- to pray to our Mother Mary and her Immaculate Heart for our own salvation, and the salvation of all people!

Let us keep before our minds this day, and all days some of the words which Mary told Lucia some 90 years ago when she asked, "But Mother, must I be alone in this world?":

"Not alone, my child, and you must not be sad. I will be with you always, and my Immaculate Heart will be your comfort and the way which will lead you to God."

Our Lady of Fatima, Pray for Us!

(For more information on Mary's Message at Fatima look here)

Just a Drop in the Bucket

"I lay there watching moonlight poor through the crack of the ill-fitted door as everyone drifted to sleep. ...Odors of the night and the autumn and the swamp entered to mingle with the indoor odors of children, kerosene, cold beans, urine and the dead incense of pine ashes. The rots and freshness combined into a strange fragrance--the smell of poverty. For a moment I knew the subtle joys of misery." --John Howard Griffin, Black Like Me

The injustice here in Honduras, like that in any developing nation, is like a slow drip filling a bucket. A starving and flee-ridden child. A home for a family of five made of cardboard and mud. A husband who openly cheats on his wife. An alcoholic man roaming the town square who no one, myself included, has the courage to help. The overweight corrupt government official with his head held high in the air, ignoring the problems surrounding him. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Trying to rationalize it, each isolated event can offer a reasonable excuse. I, and many others throughout the world, say "It's not that bad. He will change. It's just the way things are here." Each isolated event, to a certain extent, can also be romanticized or ignored. But eventually the messiness of life becomes too much, too real. Eventually the bucket fills up. The harsh realities of the world in which I live come pouring into my conscience. Something has to be addressed.

So how will I respond?

My time here in Honduras has taught me a lot about my vocation, things very practical and very basic, but no less valuable. Much like John Howard Griffn, I have been cast into a new world, impoverished in many ways. I have tasted, however briefly, the "subtle joys of misery." There is nothing attractive or romantic about misery or poverty, but, ironically enough, Christ chose misery and pain as his entry into the world. Because of this, we know love. We know joy.

So, how do I respond? I open my heart to the pain of the world so that suffering may know love. What I know of Christ, intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally, I will give over to the world as to ¨set it ablaze¨ with faith, love, and hope. This is the task and love of a person in religious life. In no way am I qualified to do this, nor perfect at it. God knows how often I mess up and take the easy way out. I, like all, am a sinner simply trying to "get it right" in this world.

Yet, I trust that God still wishes to use me. He wishes to use all of us. As a Church, we are sinners called to serve the Lord our God. This is our universal vocation: to spread the Gospel, live in the Sacraments, and practice charity in all we do. In this we will pray without ceasing. We will know that amidst injustice, hatred, and sin, that God is love and wishes us to live with Him forever in that most radical love. This is to know the true "subtle joys of misery."

Don't be led astray

either by the allure of power and money

or by following false ideologies.

True hope is not found in either.

True hope is not found

in a revolution of violence and bloodshed,

and hope is not found in money or power--

neither on the left nor on the right.

The hope that we must account for

and that makes us speak with valor

is found in Christ, who reigns even after death.

And with Him reign all who have preached

His justice, His love, His hope, His peace.

--Archbishop Oscar Romero

Wedding Banns, God's Providence

Today marks my parents' 24th wedding anniversary, the day in which they professed their love for one another, a love rooted in their love for God and for His will for their lives. God's providence was visibly present in the years leading up to their marriage in May, 1985; I'd like to share this story of providence as I've heard it on anniversaries past...

Providence is a wonderful place to start this tale; Providence College, that is. As a senior in suburban Boston, my father wanted to experience life away from the insanity which is the MBTA and the parking lots which are its roads and freeways. And so he looked to Providence for his next four years of education, and hoped to room with a good friend. All was set and ready to go--until his friend wasn't accepted. As providence would have it, my dad was not supposed to go to Providence; he settled on a Jesuit school even farther away from home. It was there that he met my mother.

If you think that's the end of the post, well, clearly you've underestimated God's sense of humor! Let's continue, shall we?

My mom, a year older than my father, had just started her sophomore year when my father arrived, strong accent-and-all. As handsome as my father is (I've been graced with his good looks), my mom didn't even notice the short Irishman; when she wasn't pouring through nursing books or immersed in clinical sessions she was dating a senior from Cleveland. His name comes up every now and then at the dinner table, causing my mom to laugh and my dad to mumble inaudibles into his food. Still, it's quite clear who she picked in the end...

As fate--or God--would have it, my parents did not date while they were in college. They weren't strangers or even mere acquaintances; they actually knew each other. Heck, my dad's even in the pictures of a party my mom threw at her house! Still, their love was not meant to be...yet. In the spring of '79 my mom graduated and went off to become an obstetrics nurse; my father received a bachelor's in business a year later. He returned to Bean Town to start work at a corporation downtown, greatly diminishing any chance of seeing his future spouse ever again.

Two years later, after becoming a manager of the hospital where she worked, my mom decided that she would return to school for a Master's degree. When, again, she felt she should study towards a second Master's, she looked at programs across the country. Boston College seemed to be the program which offered her the best opportunities. Clearly there was more in store than she had anticipated...

Next scene: A crowded subway train headed into Boston. My dad, four years older, was back to riding the train again, this time wearing a suit. My mom's best friend--who had also moved out to Boston--happened to be on the same train. Shouts of astonishment echoed through their car as the two caught up on life; my mom's friend mentioned how my mom was in town as well. Flabbergasted at how small the world can be, my dad offered to show the two of them around town. The rest, as they say, is history. 

I like to tell the story of my parents when people tell me that they're unsure whether God is immediate, that He's concerned with our seemingly stale happenings. Not so! God not only cares immensely about our lives, but prompts and guides us through His providence to make the right decisions. Why my dad didn't go to law school, why my mom didn't go elsewhere for grad school, or even why they decided not to move to California shortly after marriage are all rooted in His plan, His desire for us to be happy and love and serve Him all the more. If we allow Him to dwell within our hearts, He will most certainly lead us to the past which is best. All we have to do is say "I do!"

My thoughts and prayers, Mom and Dad, on your anniversary!

PHOTO CREDIT

As a Child Rests in His Mother's Arms

As a child rests in his mother's arms, even so my soul. Psalm 131

I've found it very difficult to make this post. Time and time again I've tried to draft a post which captures the beauty of Mother's Day, but I keep falling short. I even tried to pawn it off on Paul and Andrew, though I knew I shouldn't have. I'm glad I get Mother's Day, though. What I have to say may fall short, but then again I never think anyone can fully express how meaningful this day can be.

First and foremost, I have to say: I love my mother. I mean it. She has been my constant guide these twenty-three years, so much so that I often take her for granted. She is everything that a mother should be, and much much more. Here's but a glimpse at the different roles she takes on:

Bread-winner, cook and counselor, teacher and tick-remover, humanist and humorist, color-commentator and chauffeur, scout leader and room-mother, nurse and nanny, maid, judge, movie companion, and open-ear. My confidant, my friend, my role-model. My mom.

We love to talk about my mom's mother, too. I've had the chance to speak of her before; she meant so much to my mom as she was growing up, and well into her "grown-up" years. Looking back she marvels at how her mother, an only parent, managed not only to raise and provide for three kids, but look after her ailing parents and keep a full-time job as well. "We never felt as though we were without anything," Mom says. "She did it all and never complained." It's hard for some people to picture someone being so selfless; most mothers understand entirely. "I would do anything for my children," they proclaim.

Those that do understand can relate to our Blessed Mother, too; she certainly bore a tremendous burden as the Theotokos, or God-Bearer. As her child rest in her arms after dying on the Cross for our sins, the words that Simeon spoke to her at the Presentation came rushing back to her: And your heart, too, a lance shall pierce (Luke 2:35). How our mothers are so united with us in the midst of our hardships! They are there for us always!

...And have been since the beginning of our lives. To think that, from the moment of conception, we are united to our mothers--and are utterly dependent upon them for our survival! Oh with what profundity must a mother contemplate her gift of motherhood: within her womb rests her child, unaware of the love which he has already begun to receive. It is always so captivating to see a mother looking off into the distance as her child moves within her. For nine months there is an intimacy which exists like none other.

And, as one monumental sign of the unconditional love that a mother shows for her child, she undergoes excruciating labor pains to bring this love of hers into the world. I will never know of this sacrifice and suffering out of such love and self-giving; it is uniquely a mother's. And I am a recipient of such love. 

The least I can do is buy my mom flowers, especially after 32 hours of labor, not to mention the labor of the past 23 years! And yet she does it all without seeking retribution, all in the name of love. How fitting our mothers are, then, as models of the unceasing love which God gives to us, without reserve. Our mothers lead us to know our Creator, and show us how to follow Him.

That's about as best as I can describe my love for my mother; she leads me to God. She has been with me on the road to my vocation, always guiding and supporting me. Tradition holds that the mother of a priest approaches her particular judgment before God, He asks her, "And what have you done for the sake of my Kingdom?" She replies, "I have given you a priest." Surely such love does not go unnoticed by God, the One True Priest.

Mothers. What a blessing!

My prayers for all mothers on this special day. Thank you for the love you give unceasingly to your sons and daughters! May God continue to bless you in your most treasured vocation!

Our Mass in Christ

There have been several times when Peter, Paul or I have perhaps referred to the idea of "offering it up" or "uniting our lives and our trials to Christ." However, I don't think any of us have ever attempted to explain what exactly this idea entails or what it means. I know that I had no conception of offering things up until a few years ago. But the more that I have come to understand it- and sought to put it into practice in my daily life- the more I have come to see it as so essential to our holiness and our lives as Catholics.

This idea of offering things up is intrinsically tied up with the Mass. In the Mass, Jesus' perfect offering, his sacrifice on the Cross, is re-presented, offered again in an unbloody (thank goodness) manner on the altar. This sacrificial offering of the Mass the the fountain from which grace flows. However, the Sacrifice in the Mass is not just something Christ does. He invites us, indeed he calls each of us, to unite our whole lives to his sacrifice. He asks us to love as he loves, to place all our talents, all our trials, all our minds, wills, hearts- indeed every ounce of our being to be united with His total self gift. He invites us to give as he gave- with everything we have. And when we do this, he pours out his Holy Spirit into our hearts, and he transforms our hearts in to the image of his perfect heart. But the important thing about this uniting ourselves to Christ's offering is that it is not something that stays in Church, or that we do for just an hour each week. It is rather must become the whole pattern of our lives- our every action should be united in a offering to God the Father out of love!

With my two cents put in, I now offer you a little meditation and prayer which I found to be quite beautiful and which penetrates into the heart of this whole matter:

Our Mass in Christ

Thou, O Jesus, are my Victim of love on the Cross and in the Mass. I must learn, as a living member of your Mystical Body, to offer myself each day and every hour in union with Thee in the Mass.

Souls are saved by sacrifice. The one great sacrifice in all the world is Your Sacrifice, the Mass. Only insofar as my life belongs to the Mass and becomes a life of Sacrifice with thee, will it be of value for the salvation of souls, including my own.

In union with You, O Jesus, I offer all that I shall think, say, do, suffer, or enjoy this day, so that all may be purified and sanctified in You.

In union with You, O Jesus, I stretch out my arms upon the cross, which is my day, with its sacrifices and offerings. I accept beforehand, in the spirit of docile surrender, all that You have arranged for me in the coming hours. And thus I shall try to incorporate into my life the doctrine so clearly emphasized by Saint Cyprian: "The Sacrifice of our Lord is not complete, as far as our sanctification is concerned, unless our sufferings and sacrifices correspond to His Passion."

In leaving the Chapel, O Jesus, I offer to You all the hours, and minutes, and seconds of this day. Today, I shall do everything in the spirit of sacrifice, of docile surrender and complete abandonment to Your adorable Will.

If I meet with suffering, disappointment, coldness, opposition, misunderstanding, ill-will, or with anything else that hurts or humiliates, I shall not complain but strive to recall: IT IS MY MASS.

I shall strive to keep the happy things holy, because they too belong to my Mass. All has been offered. May all be holy!

Today I shall try to live in the full realization of this great fact: The measure of spiritual profit which I derive from the Mass each day is precisely the measure in which I offer myself in union with thee, my Divine Victim, Jesus.

More clearly than ever before, O Jesus, do I now understand that my love is the measure of the cross that I bear with Thee, for Thee, and In Thee, whether it be great or small.

While this may seem old school, or just a bit odd with all this talk about sacrifice, it is really at the heart of what our Christian vocation is all about! Saint Paul tells the Romans (12:1) to offer their lives as spiritual sacrifices holy and acceptable to God our almighty Father! And Jesus himself often told the disciples that they would have to take up their crosses, DAILY, to follow Him. The greatest act of Jesus' life was when he gave his life for us- and he invites us to become one with him. We are able to share in his work of salvation, when we offer things us we win grace for ourselves, but also for others. Our lives truly become a means for the salvation of others!

This is not something just for priests or nuns or seminarians or saints. It is for all of us. We can all do this! We all must do this! It is the true meaning of our lives! To become one with Christ in his self-giving love, so that we may become one with him in his eternal beatitude- in eternal Life! It is a matter of each day offering our lives to him. " Jesus, I offer it all to you." A striving minute by minute to sanctify our actions and trials by giving them to him. It takes time to perfect, but if we persevere, and ask for the help of his Spirit and grace, we will be able to one day say with Saint Paul that "I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." (Galatians 2:20)

I Thirst

Last week I was hiking through the mountains visiting tiny rural villages with two local Church delegates. The scenery was gorgeous, the homes were humble, and the people were beautiful. As I went along I thought of Jesus' two-word sentence to Mother Teresa that became her order's famous line, "I thirst." Out of my basic desire for some water, it became my prayer for the four hour hike. However, as I went along its identity changed. It stopped becoming my prayer and started becoming Jesus'. Here's some of it...

I Thirst.

God, I am really thirsty. Why didn't I bring any water? Ten years of boy scouts and I forget to bring water!? Please don't let me dehydrate. May a kind stranger give me some water at their home.

I Thirst.

God, I am tired. My legs burn. How do these mountain people do it? Why do they want to live up here with nothing, no lights, no cars, no TV, no real education? God, I am tired, but open me up to these people's world. May they give me life.

I thirst.

I thirst to know you, Jesus. I have walked with you for a long time, and it always seems that I am learning something new. I thirst to see your face and to act as you act. I thirst for your mercy and for your strength. I thirst to be your face to the world.

I Thirst.

I thirst that these people know you. These villagers are a forgotten people. The government doesn't visit. The venders don't visit. The football teams don't visit. The Protestants don't visit. Just these few delegates and a priest every few months. I thirst that they know love.

I thirst.

I thirst for you, Paul. I thirst for you to go to these people to show them my love and to taste their love. I thirst for you to see me in their eyes. In their faces. In their need. I thirst for you to enter into my body, even here in the mountains.

I thirst.

I thirst for the Church. I thirst that they come to me on the cross. I thirst for their lives, their joys, accomplishments, and sins. I yearn that they be a church dependent on nothing but my love and grace for nothing is greater.

I thirst.

I thirst for the World. I thirst that they know me from the biggest cities to the farthest corners. I thirst that they know peace, generosity, and forgiveness. I yearn for them to see how sacred a human life is and how meaningful it becomes in society.

I Thirst.

I thirst for others to thirst with me. I thirst for women and men to answer my call to love and to serve. I thirst for holy priests and religious. I thirst for strong marriages and families. There is nothing greater a person can do than to lay one down's life for one's friend. I thirst for men and women to work along side me and stay with me amidst loneliness, rejection, and even death. I thirst for them because I want them to see the joy and love that will come.

Our Lady of the Gift Shop--An Ode to Mary

As I looked around the town, all I saw were white cowboy hats, dusty F-250s, rusted out oil wells, and the stereotypical tumbleweed blowing down the road. Somewhere between the cowboy hats and the tumbleweeds I knew it was certain: This is Texas. This exact time last year I was stranded in a town called Midland, TX, with just over four dollars in my dirty old pocket. I had arrived via greyhound in search of a shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe that I read about in some book. This was all part of my 30-day pilgrimage--something that every Jesuit does as a novice. I arrived right at sunset. With no contacts or churches to fall back on, I resorted to spending my first (and only) night in Midland sleeping in a ditch. As I attempted without success to fall asleep on a pile of mulch, thoughts of the previous 16 days went through my head. I was happy for my joy, proud of my successes, ashamed of my failures, but most of all, worn out from living as a nomadic beggar. The next morning, roaming through the dusty streets, I encountered a group of Catholic women who generously offered me breakfast and pointed me toward the shrine.

I arrived early and had the shrine all to myself; not a soul sat in the giant outdoor amphitheater. For a couple of hours, I felt as if the it was all mine. In a way, I felt as if I had Mary's full ear. Not having had much privacy the previous two weeks, I took full advantage. Plopping myself down in the middle of the bleachers, I took off my boots after wearing them for a day and a half, and pulled out my rosary beads. Too tired to pray anything else, I simply prayed the mysteries of the rosary. The Annunciation, the Nativity in Bethlehem, the Wedding Feast at Cana, the Eucharist, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and the Pentecost. Praying with Mary, I prayed more intimately to Christ. Though exhausted, the prayer was rich. Moreover, reviewing my life as a pilgrim and as a Jesuit, I could notice my life had been full of these mysteries all along. My life and all of our lives are constantly filled with these mysteries made manifest through the love of Christ and power of the Holy Spirit.

Even though I was all but broke, with nothing on the agenda for that day I headed over to the gift shop (Just between me and my readers, I have a secret love for Catholic gift shops. There's an unexplainable joy that I get from walking amid laminated holy cards, porcelain statues, leather Bible covers, and holy water bottles, all with the Chant CD playing in the background). I walked around the closet-sized store, discretely checking out prices of random trinkets, and wondering why anyone needed to buy the "liturgical incense for home use" on sale at the register.

Then something caught my eye. A whole shelf full of miniature statues of the famous Pieta (see photo above) originally done by Michelangelo in 1499. The Pieta said it all for me about Mary that day. Through everything, Mary was there for her son: His birth, His childhood, His ministry, death, burial, and glorious Resurrection. Through all of her life, and now in heaven, she always has had her Son on her mind and heart. As such, there were times in Nazareth she stayed up worrying all night. There were times she laughed all through a meal with her Son. There were times she cried all day long. And there were times when she said "Thank You" to God all morning long. To this day, Mary remains faithful to the fruit of her womb, Jesus, and has yet to leave His side.

To know Mary's heart is to know Jesus' life. Jesus was Mary's life. It was the most important thing for her. As Christians, it should be the most important thing for us as well. However, we are sinners. We need some grace and good examples. The Holy Spirit supplies the grace and our Holy Mother supplies the examples. As a novice, when I wonder how am I going to do this whole religious life thing, I turn to Mary. I have come to trust and to love her. I ask her in prayer to place me with her Son. That I may rest with her Son like in the Pieta after not having quivered from accepting my cross nor spreading the good news.

Back in the gift shop, contrary to my frugal personality, I took two of my four dollar bills and purchased two of those cheap little Pieta statues. I gave one to my mother for Mother's day last year and kept the other for myself. It goes with me to whatever city I travel to remind me that no matter where I go, what happens, or how bad I mess up, I will always have the love of Mary and the mercy of her Son, Jesus. What a good purchase!

Mary, you are awesome, humble, kind, loyal, and generous. We ask you to pray that we may serve this world with Jesus so that we may live in the next world with Him and all the saints. Amen.

A Meaningless Mocha

One of my professors once attended a respect-life conference to hear various talks and conferences. As she was walking around the many different booths, a woman approached her, smiled, and said, "You don't remember me, do you?" Instead of pretending, she humbly admitted, "I'm sorry, you look very familiar, but I don't remember." The woman smiled and told my professor how they had first met.

Years prior to the conference, both women were asked to be a part of a panel for reproductive health convened by the state. My professor was one of the representatives of the pro-life cause, whereas her acquaintance was a strong advocate for the pro-choice, pro-abortion--what have you--coalition. As you can imagine, the sessions were somewhat tense, the issues at hand being far more than simple talking points. At the end of the meetings the assembly split and went their separate ways; while there were never any open hostilities, the environment was not the most cheery.

During one of the breaks, my professor asked a few of the pro-choice representatives whether they would like a coffee from the shop nearby. Some declined outright, while two or three looked up and, while startled by the kindness shown to them by someone of an entirely different belief concerning one of the world's hotly-contested issues, told her their order. When the sessions began again, the woman who came up to my professor, now with warm coffee in hand, was still reflecting on the kindness shown to her. She was so affected that, years later, she had come to the respect-life conference not as an opponent, but as one dedicated to the defense of all human life. All because of a few kind words and a meaningless mocha...

I love this story, and not just because it involves coffee. It shows us that if we're willing, we can evangelize through the most menial tasks if we do them with love. People, like the woman at the conference, can't help but be curious at what makes us tick, "What makes them so happy, so thoughtful?" To satisfy their curiosity, they'll spend a little time researching or what not until they eventually convert or "change sides" as the woman put it. Invitations can lead to a change of ideologies, but can also lead to a change of heart, hopefully towards Jesus' Heart.

This challenge ties in nicely with today's Gospel as well; Jesus tells us: "I came into the world as light, so that everyone who believes in me might not remain in darkness." It is our duty as followers in this light to extend it to our brothers and sisters in darkness. We must do whatever we can to bring them closer to our Light and our Love!

Maybe the mocha wasn't so meaningless after all!

A Cool Website

The Oregon Province of the Society of Jesus has recently created a very well done website on discernment and the Jesuit vocation. It is for anyone and everyone. While much of the material is for young men discerning a vocation to the Society of Jesus, there's also a lot of material for family, friends, curious bystanders, and other Catholics discerning a vocation. If you have some time, give this website a visit.

http://www.nwjesuits.info/

My continued prayers. Blessings.

peace.
Paul

Dream the Impossible Dream

No, this isn't just a filler post since the three of us are swamped with end-of-the-year papers, tests, and missionary work. I've actually been waiting to post this great video for some time, and hope that you'll enjoy it as much as I have.

The clip takes an interesting spin on the Man of La Mancha, using one of the musical's most beautiful songs and applies it to the life of Servant of God, John Paul II. While the video isn't the best made on such a tremendous Witness to Hope, parts of this clip fit so poignantly into the great zeal of this pope, who fulfilled his quest in the name of Jesus, so that "my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I'm laid to my rest."

It's a fitting video for Cinco de Mayo, too!

Anywho, enjoy the video, and pray for Andrew, Paul, and me as we finish up our year of studies!

Scandals and Vocations

I had just finished my final lap of a work out during track practice that Wednesday in April, 2002, when my coach came up to me. "Hey," I gasped, still short of breath. Coach had a grim look on his face; he said there was a really important meeting about the pro-life trip that he wanted me to attend in a few minutes. Unsure about what was going on, I showered and headed up to my high school's conference room. Once inside, our pro-life moderator told us that the priest who had been on our bus had just been arrested on charges of sexual abuse. We were devastated.

I had known this priest pretty well. Brilliant, funny, holy, with a warm smile; this priest was "cool." Honestly, we all wanted to be like him. His joy for the priesthood was one of the reasons why I kept thinking about the being a priest, why I kept discerning. Father encouraged me in my discernment, even getting me an adult catechism and wrote a message on the inside cover, "Never stop asking questions! May God fill you with His ultimate Truth!" Upon learning of this betrayal, the questions rushed into my brain:

Why, God? Why Father?

I had to answer some of the questions, too. First, at that meeting at the conference room, I decisively stated that in no way had Father ever harmed me (they were particularly worried since I had known Father through discernment groups). Secondly, I assured my parents that this priest whom I had revered had done nothing to me nor to any of my friends that would lead me to ever suspect him of such heinous deeds. It turned out that the charges brought against him stemmed from incidents seven years previous to his arrest. Still, the betrayal made me angry and sad all at once. We listened in silence to the radio reports on the forty-minute ride home.

My parents, amazing as they are, let me sit with the news for a while. Eventually I came to them with my questions: why had I been fooled by this wolf in sheep's--or priest's--clothing? How could someone be capable of such evil? With compassion and respect for the priesthood they talked with me about sin and evil, and explained that all the good that Father had done in recent years was not negated by actions in the past, egregious as they were. While their words didn't take Father's mug shot off the local news, it did ease my pain. Once more I opened the cover to that adult catechism and read his wishes for me:

Never stop asking questions! May God fill you with His ultimate Truth!

As the sexual abuse scandal came into the fore of our Stateside Church in the following months, my discernment of the diocesan priesthood intensified. People who knew that I was thinking about the seminary after high school asked me, "Do you still feel called?" Or, more blatantly, "Do the scandals make you rethink your vocation?" My response was simple: "No, it makes me want to be a priest more than ever. We need priests, and I think God's calling me to be one."

I look back on those few months in the Spring of 2002 and realize that they are pivotal in my vocation to the priesthood. To see priests as humans, capable both of failure and great good, made me realize how dependent I have to be on Jesus Christ if I am ever going to be a holy shepherd. Also, while I lost a great role model to the abuse scandal, I have come to know many priests who, in spite of the sins of some of their brothers, keep ministering to the people of God and invite them into God's loving arms. These priests continue the good work Father had begun; they still continue to challenge me to seek God's ultimate Truth. 

In the midst of darkness, God's light will shine as brilliantly as before. We must continue to seek His Truth, even when those who had guided us before have gone or have betrayed our trust, or worse. Hopefully our Church will continue as before, ever mindful of the wounds inflicted on the innocent, aware of the need to screen and effectively train its priests, religious, and laity, and full of resolve to preach God's unending love and tremendous mercy! What a blessing to be called to such a vocation!

For Truth's Sake

The world we live in is one in which the truth about human life and dignity is daily questioned if not denied. It is a world in which the "true" is based upon majority opinion that is here today and gone tomorrow. It is, sadly, a world in which many self-proclaimed members of the Church,which is supposed to be "The Pillar and Bulwark of Truth"(1 Tim 3:15), are unwilling to stand up and defend the truths about God and his creation. In a world such as this, today's saint stands as a light shining in the darkness, and a hero whom we can seek to imitate. 

Saint Athanasius, who lived from 296-373, is known as the "Father of Orthodoxy." During his life time there was a vicious heresy that was spreading all across the Christian Mediterranean- Arianism. This was a heretical sect founded by a Arius, a priest from Alexandria, which denied that Jesus was really God! These ideas were devastating because if Jesus is not God, then our faith is utterly vain! This sect was not just a small pocket of rebels, rather quite nearly all of Christendom had fallen into some type of Arianism or Semi-Arianism! 

However, in the midst of this mileau, in which the true faith was being distorted by a new fad that had appeared, Athanasisus- then only a deacon-stood strong in proclaiming, unequivocally and without apology the truth of who Jesus Christ really is. He said, in his Oratio de incarnatione Verbi, 

The Word of God, incorporeal, incorruptible, and immaterial, entered our world. Out of his loving kindness for us he came to us, and we see this in the way he revealed himself openly to us. taking pity on mankind's weakness, and moved by our corruption, he could not stand aside and see death have the mastery over us; he did not want creation to perish and his Father's work in fashioning man to be in vain. He therefore took to himself a body, no different from our own. Within the Virgin he built himself a temple, that is, a body; he made it his own instrument in which to dwell and to reveal himself. In this way he received from mankind a body like our own, and since all were subject to the corruption of death, he delivered this body over to death for all, and with supreme love offered it to the Father. He did so to destroy the law of corruption passed against men, since all died in him. In death the Word made a spotless sacrifice and oblation of the body he had taken. By dying for others, he immediately banished death from mankind. 

In this way the Word of God, who is above all, dedicated and offered his temple, the instrument that was his body, for us all, as he said, and so paid by his own death the debt that was owed. The immortal Son of God, united with all men by likeness of nature, thus fulfilled all justice in restoring mankind to immortality by the promise of the resurrection.

He was unafraid to stand in the truth, even though many other bishops, priests, and faithful were abandoning it. Thanks be to God that in 325 the Council of Nicaea, with Athanasius' help, the disputes were settled, and the truth was triumphant. Jesus' nature was proclaimed- 100% Human and 100% Divine!  

Athanasius' strength, his love for the truth, and his profound holiness are all examples for us in today's world. We can, and must, look to and pray to this holy saint, and all his confreres in heaven to aid us in our daily battle to proclaim the truth of Jesus' Christ! The same today, yesterday and forever!

Lessons from the Workshop

As you may have seen on the news, today is the International Day for Workers. Started in previously communist Russia, in many countries today, the holiday serves as a day for protests and marches against (or for) anything and everything. With a desire to better orient the day as well as celebrate it within the faith, in 1955 the Church declared May 1 to be the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker. My Daily Roman Missal had this to say about today's feast, "The Church remembers today, through the example of St. Joseph, the human and supernatural worth of our work, which is collaboration with the God of creation. Work is not a heavy burden, but rather a natural way of making ourselves and others holier, bringing us closer to perfection and the love of God each and every day."

Even though very little is known about St. Joseph, we can create a certain idea of him from the things written about him or referring to him in the Gospel. In the Gospel for today's feast, Jesus speaks amazing words of wisdom in the synagogue at Nazareth. However, the proud Pharisee's ask, "Where did this man [Jesus] get such wisdom and mighty deeds? Is he not the carpenter's son?" (Mt 13:54-55). Though Jesus clearly spoke the truth of the scriptures, because he was the son of a carpenter, he was discredited. After all, what things of God can a boy learn by spending his days in a dusty workshop with a carpenter? Plenty....

1. "An hour of Prep saves two hours of work."

In whatever you do, pray first. If we do not pray, we do not know God's love and graces at work in our lives. If we cannot see his love and grace, our work is frivolous and trivial. It becomes nothing more than frustrating busy work. Prayer keeps our actions focused on what is important: those we serve, our families, our health, or communities, and ultimately, God.

2. "Measure twice. Cut once."

It never hurts to take a second look at your surroundings. Images, ideas, and sounds come at light speed in today's media. We are affected by the people and things with which we spend out time. Our emotions and thoughts are always running. Therefore, we must continually measure ourselves: why am I doing what I am doing? Is it for God? Is it to better His world? Are my actions corresponding with the beliefs of my faith, the Church, and my loved ones? When we stop examining ourselves we start becoming someone we don't know or don't want to be.

3. "Always finish what you started."

If anyone in this world is a model of loyalty, it is St. Joseph. He stuck by the Virgin Mary when, proper to the custom, anyone else would have divorced her. Under short warning he took his new family all the way to Egypt as a refugee so that Mary's son would not be harmed. He took them to the temple to present themselves to the Lord, and took them into his home. Even though he never had to, Joseph made Mary and Jesus his whole life. He stuck with them until the end. And how rare is that for us today? How many marriages end up in divorce? How many vocations go unanswered because of the daunting task of commitment? It's my humble opinion that our culture, especially us young folks, have a phobia towards commitment. We are worried by uncertainties. What's going to happen? What am I gonna get out of it? Joseph and millions of other saints, parents, priests, and religious had (and continue to have) the same questions, but they stuck with what God asked of them. In the words of JPII, "Be not afraid." Answer God's call and stick with it. There will be some very very hard days and months, but they won't even touch the joy that comes from a life dedicated to God.

I would like to end with a saying about St. Joseph on a holy card I got from an old Dominican brother. It's very simple, but a great inspiration to me.

At times Joseph,

like so many,

was a refugee

without home,

welcome, or work.

So, what he could do, he did.

It made all the difference.