Be Not Afraid!

I had a tremendous solemnity yesterday, and thanks to all those who read our post. As I mulled around thinking about Peter, talking to other people about Peter, and nearly changing my real name to Peter, I kept coming back to the same thought: Do not be afraid.

Afraid of what? That is the $64,000 question. Reflecting and praying about it, I realized that I'm actually quite afraid of what the Lord might ask me to do if I give myself entirely to him. You always read stories about the saints and how they faced ridicule and persecution while following the Lord's call in the midst of their abandonment. While it makes for good storytelling and all, I just don't want to give myself that much, hanging upside-down on a cross. I'd rather watch the sun rise over Eastern Nebraska while I sip my Folger's coffee.

And yet, there is this desire to do, to give myself to him. We've all met people that just seem to waste away the days without any purpose; I've told friends to punch me in the face if I ever reach that level of lethargy. Part of me just wants to shout "YES! OKAY! YOU WIN!" Ignatius' Suscipe comes to mind: Take, Lord, receive all my liberty...

I feel like Peter asking the Lord, "command me to come to you on the water." I want to come to Him but can't help looking about me and noticing all the pressures, the things which tell me that this counter-cultural life is just plain insane:

Celibacy? Gimme a break!

Okay, but don't you want to have a family?

But what about your dreams of being a writer?

You're so normal; why would you want to be like them?

I'll be honest; there's times when I want to hop back in the boat.

But all-in-all, I feel that Jesus is there in the midst of this chaotic storm, beckoning me to come out to him on the water. Yes, it might seem ludicrous, but so does the Cross. Just because we can't wrap our feeble minds around something doesn't mean it isn't possible to obtain through the Lord's grace and mercy. He asks Peter, Why did you doubt? The more we trust in Him and give Him our anxieties, the more freely we will be able to respond to His will, whatever it may be.

Pray to the Lord to remove whatever is hindering you from surrendering all to Him, to step out of the boat and be not afraid. What He asks of us might be painful, but He is with us every step of the way.

So, remember: Be not afraid!

Our Feast Day--The Rock and the Sword

Today is our feast day, the day we celebrate the Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul, two "Princes of the Apostles" who have led us in faith through the ages. Over the past ten months we have been blessed to see the world through the lens of their great faith in Christ; reflecting on their lives and journeys towards Rome has helped us undergo our pilgrimages as well.

Despite their disagreements on various concerns in the early Church, both men came to realize that their strength--or rather, their weakness--comes from laying everything before Jesus for the sake of the Kingdom. Stubborn, selfish, and entirely indignant to opposing views, these rambunctious ruffians slowly converted to Christ's way of thinking. Once broken down and willing to embrace their own crosses, Peter and Paul became two saintly stalwarts, meriting the images associated with their names and deeds for Christ: Peter, the Rock and Paul, the Sword.

It is our great pleasure to reflect upon these icons and how they have helped shape our lives. When Paul entered the novitiate for the Society of Jesus, he and I began exchanging letters back-and-forth, talking about our formation, struggles in prayer, and hopes for the future. In these letters we jokingly began referring to one another as "Peter" and "Paul," namely because of the relatively local service of St. Peter and the vast ministry of "The Apostle to the Gentiles," St. Paul. When we decided to begin a blog to share our reflections on Christ and His Church, it seemed fitting that we should take the names of these great saints as our patrons. With "The Rock" and "The Sword" as our guides, we have come to better know ourselves and Christ's will for each of us.

At times I picture myself in Rome as St. Peter, stripped of all my vain desires and dreams, arms outstretched on a cross. My cross. The crowd jeers at me for who I am, Who I represent; they relish my death. I am no hero; I'm the one who tried to flee from this just the day before. And yet I am the Rock, the one whom the Lord has called to spread the Gospel with all my being. Yes, I admit that I would rather be back in my cozy fishing village; yet there is something about this life that I cannot resist. I feel His Truth deep in my bones. And so I cry out, Ad quem ibimus?! Lord, to whom shall we go?! You have the words of everlasting life!

As the men lift my cross to its upside-down position (at my request), I feel the blood rush straight to my head. It pounds ferociously, but not nearly as bad as the three times I denied my Master. It is He whom I think of, the time He spent teaching and loving me. He is here with me now; I clench my fists; they are wet with blood; The nails tear into my flesh. I remember now what He said to me by the shore: ...but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands....

Be not afraid, Cephas! He says to me today and forever.

Peter, The Rock

....


Rather than either one of us being the "bloghog," Peter and I decided it would be a good idea if we both wrote a segment to this post. I can safely say that Peter and I are greatly humbled to share our musings with the confidence of two great saints of the Church interceding for this tiny little piece of cyberspace.

Peter and I have often wondered to ourselves and to each other, in a very positive way, "What's the point of all this?" I wish I could say that our reasons have been 100% pure. Divinely inspired. A future supplement to the Office of Readings in the works. But one need only read through our posts to see our humanity, count our flaws, and catch our mistakes.

And yet with our weakness in mind, I cannot help but rejoice all the more. I feel as though our struggles and yearnings have benefited and added to the graces this blog has received. If they did not exist it wouldn't be much of a honest spiritual journey, would it? Every pilgrim knows that just as much grace is found in the challenges of the journey as at the beauty of the destination. As St. Paul shared with the community in Corinth, "[the Lord] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

This blog, though it may sometimes seem otherwise, is about neither Peter or I. It is about God and His active role in all of our lives. The stories of Sts. Peter and Paul, and might I humbly add our stories, act as road signs along the journey. Each and every post hopefully points to something greater, something amazing at work in the world--the saving and merciful love of the Trinity. And know that His loving presence does not start nor stop at the walls of the seminary or novitiate. His divine revelation did not end at 100 A.D. It is in your hands as much as it is ours. From generation to generation, His presence bleeds through to every corner of the earth from every altar. It flows back and forth from the hearts of every Christian to the simple flat table tops resting quietly in chapels and cathedrals all around the world.

We are all part of this great mystery. All the time, whether we want it or not, Christ is calling out, begging for us--all of who we are, sins included. And even more, once He has us, he asks to use us. He asks us to be bloggers, seminarians, novices, priests, nuns, parents, co-workers, managers, volunteers, siblings, athletes, politicians, medical personnel, missionaries, mentors, coaches, companions, pilgrims, and so much more. Part of that means knowing our weakness so that we can hear God offering us His love and grace. We can take it or leave it. I thank you for "taking it" and joining us, and even more importantly, Christ, along our journey to Rome. I would like to end with a famous line from St. Paul to the Philippians...

Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus, Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every other name. (Philippians 2: 5-9)

Paul, The Sword

--Our thoughts and prayers on this most blessed of days!

PHOTO CREDITS:
1. Servicios Koinonia

2. Caravaggio, Crucifixion of St. Peter--Wikimedia

3. Algardi, Beheading of St. Paul--Web Gallery of Art
4. St. Paul Visiting St. Peter in Prison 

Talitha Koum

How did my daughter get better? Sit down and I'll tell you!

I had heard about Jesus of Nazareth before, and was rather skeptical about all the cures and driving out of demons that he had supposedly done. I thought he was a scam, to be honest with you. This son of a carpenter was being called "teacher;" but what did he know?! When I would see him in our synagogues I would quickly become incensed and storm out into the streets.

But then, one day, my darling little one grew faint while playing outside with the others. My wife brought her inside to rest, but soon her condition worsened and she had to be put to bed. When I came home from my duties at the synagogue I found the physician with her; he had no words of encouragement. Our once healthy, beautiful little girl now lay ghost-white in her darkened room, soon she would inhabit a tomb. I could not bear the sight of such pain; I wept for my little one all through the night. Could no one save her from death?

As I stirred from what little sleep I had, I remembered Jesus and all the works he had performed. Apparently he would be in town that very day! Whether he was a fraud or not I did not care; I went into town to see if he could heal my daughter and save her from death.

Once I arrived by the shore I found myself in the midst of a very large crowd. There, in the midst of them, was Jesus, eyes filled with mercy. He had just finished his teaching and was talking to a group of his followers. When I spotted him I ran forward, pushing aside the crowd and lunged towards him. Clinging to his feet I pleaded, "My daughter is at the point of death. Please, come lay hands on her that she may get well and live." He looked at me with such a profound gaze that I knew that he was truly capable of all that had been said of him. He motioned for me to lead the way, and thus our trip to my house began, with all his followers in tow.

There was a bit of commotion with some woman wanting healing; I stood by Jesus as he healed her--but what would come of my daughter? By the time he had finished with this woman from the crowd some relatives of mine came running down the hill. They had said that my daughter had died and not to trouble the teacher any longer. Then Jesus put his hand on my shoulder and, gazing at me once more, said, "Do not be afraid; just have faith." At that we continued on towards the house. In a time of great agony I trusted in him and hoped that he might save her.

When we arrived up the hill all my relatives were mourning rather loudly the loss of my child. As we approached them Jesus said, "Why this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but asleep." At once their sobs turned to shouts of rage at such a bold declaration. Taking me inside to my wife and child, he only allowed three of his followers inside behind him, thus barring all others from the house. I saw my wife holding our baby in her arms and felt a sword pierce my heart. Jesus then asked my wife to lay the child back onto her bed.

Then, it happened. Kneeling down beside my daughter, he placed his hand upon her head. With his eyes closed he prayed over her, far unlike some of the frauds I was used to seeing. Then, as he stood up, he said to my daughter, Talitha koum, "Little girl, I say to you, arise!"

As our daughter opened her eyes and sat up in her bed, tears rushed from my eyes, tears of great joy in witnessing this miracle and saving of my little girl. As she began to walk around, my wife and I embraced our little one, and then the teacher himself. Gently he told us not to tell anyone of this healing--whoops--and to give her something to eat. With that, he and his three followers were gone.

That is how Jesus healed my little girl! May many more come to believe in the healing power of this great one, Jesus the Messiah!

PHOTO CREDIT, Ilya Repin

Pretty in Pink

Now wait just a minute. Hold on. I'm going to explain...

Believe it or not, I'm not talking about myself or any girl I've met this summer, etc. Rest assured friends, family, and formation staff, I still feel called to the priesthood and don't like to wear pink (Gaudete and Laetare Sundays, maybe--but that's rose). I'm actually more concerned about the prettiness or sheer beauty of the call of the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters, or as they're known on the "street," the "Pink Sisters."

Founded by St. Arnold Jansen on December 8, 1896 in Holland, the Pink Sisters perpetually adore the Blessed Sacrament, praying for souls--including yours--throughout the world. These faithful servants of the Lord don such colorful habits to, as their brochure explains, "signify our special consecration to the Holy Spirit from whom comes the missionary dynamism of the Church." Such a beautiful charism and message makes this order one of the Lord's wonderful gifts to us.

It also makes their chapels across the world tranquil places to pray.

Tucked away in a neighborhood in Lincoln, Nebraska, the Sister's chapel at Christ the King Church gives you a sense of prayerfulness as you walk through the doorway. High above the altar sits a gold monstrance holding our Lord; there below on a kneeler prays a sister, an hour at a time, for the conversion of the world to Jesus' Heart. It's then that one realizes that sisters in pink are on kneelers before the Lord all over the world. Great peace and prayerfulness, indeed!

As I stumble into chapel in the mornings, or find my mind wandering in prayer, I think of these sisters, faithful servants of the Lord. When I'm asleep or in class, blogging or at baseball games, these sisters are on their knees in chapel, praying. They may not always have the most fruitful hours of prayer, but they show up and respond to the Lord's invitation to be in His presence. If "half of life is just showing up," according to Woody Allen, these sisters are great examples to all of us; they show up, day after day, sending petitions and receiving graces from the Lord. As I watch them from behind the grille, I pray that I may follow their example, and show up!

Not all of us can look pretty in pink, just as not everyone is called to be a contemplative religious. Yet, we are all called to give our whole selves back to the Father, to share in the Gospel message of the Son, and to receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit. No matter what color we wear, we must listen to the Lord, to hear what He calls us to do!

Pink is a pretty color, but its much more beautiful when all the colors and their charisms are united in praise, love, and service of the Lord. May we take our encouragement from these faithful sisters!

Peace.

PHOTO CREDIT, Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters

On the Fence?

We've all been there. Wobbling from side to side on the white picket fence. Stuck between an enormous piece of granite and that idiomatic "hard place." Standing lost at the crossroads of two gravel county roads surrounded by cornfields.

There are always those moments of our lives, faced with one (or more) decisions at once with no idea where to go. Sometimes the decisions are between the good and the bad, sometimes they are between the lesser of two evils, while other times they are between two goods. Of the three types of decisions, is there an easiest type? I don't really know, but I would venture to say, no. If we are honest with ourselves and emotionally engaged with the decision, we know that it will be hard, whatever style it may be.

So how do we do it? How do we have the guts to "bite the bullet" and take the leap off the fence, the rock, or the crossroad?

I feel funny asking these questions since, frankly, I have no concrete answer for you. Each situation is a bit different. It demands the very personal, unique art of discernment. I supposeI am using rather poor rhetoric asking questions with no answers, but allow me to share with you a prayer. Maybe it will help. It is known as "The Prayer for Generosity" and was written by Saint Ignatius.

Teach me to be generous;
teach me to serve you as you deserve,
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to seek reward,
except that of knowing that I do your will.

Amen.

In the words of a Jesuit, Fr. David Flemming, "maybe the most important words to that prayer are the first two, 'teach me.'" So often those decisions that loom ahead of us seem so complicated, big, and confusing. Millions of questions, ideas, and fears run through our heads: What will others think? What will happen to me? How will I ever actually live that decision out? Do I really have it in me? How can I want something I don't even really understand?

...Teach me, Jesus.... Teach me.

This past week 60 other Jesuit novices and I have been attending a Jesuit history course. It has been a rich "Teach me, Jesus" experience on many levels. This week we have been learning about the many Jesuit missions that mark our history and the thousands of martyrs that came along with them. Paraguay, Perú, Goa, Japan, Indonesia, China, Angola, Congo, Ethiopia, Mexico, Brazil, Florida, Quebec, Virginia...and those are just some of the missions before the 18th century! By the time the 20th century rolled around, things really got busy. The list of countries where Jesuits did NOT have missions is probably shorter than the list of countries where they did.

However diverse the Jesuits, theologies, eras, and outcomes were within all these missions, there was a certain uniting factor: they all sought to bring about Christ in a setting where he had yet to been noticed. They were, in essence, masters of discernment--of noticing the decisions before them and choosing what they felt would bring about the "greater glory of God."

While the missionaries were not always perfect, more often than not they were brave in their decision making. They made their decision, and they made them wisely, taking into consideration their background and understanding of the world at that time. The end of their decision was neither for their own security or gain, but for God, who is love. And despite notable failures of many missions, their decisions ultimately bore much fruit.

If you are struggling with a decision (be it vocational or otherwise), be brave, prudent, and trusting in God. Many have gone before us with many of the same (if not harder) decisions to make. Though it may not look like it at first, a decision made with God in the forefront will bear much fruit. It most likely will lead us through the cross, and it may seem at times unmanageable, but trust that you are doing this for love, and love surpasses all things.

The fence is no place to hang out. Life is much more vivid when it is lived. Fear not failure, for God even uses that to share His graces with us.

Benedictus

Today marks the solemnity of the Birth of John the Baptist. Like any heroic person in the Bible, there's always an interesting prelude to their ministry. Here's the soap-opera which preceeds John's birth:

As we hear in the Gospel of Luke, Zechariah was serving his turn at the temple when his whole world was upended. Chosen "randomly" to offer incense in the sanctuary of the Lord, the angel Gabriel appeared to him to announce news "of great joy." Gabriel told Zechariah that his wife, Elizabeth, would conceive and bear a son, one who "will be great in the sight of the Lord." Furthermore, the archangel announced to this weathered old man that his son would be the one to prepare the world for the Messiah's coming (No ordinary day at temple, for sure).

Quite incredulous about the truth of this great tiding, Zechariah challenges Gabriel as to how this will come about, citing his age and his wife's inability to bear children. Unlike his wife's cousin, Mary, who would ask a similar question to Gabriel six months later, Zechariah doubts how the Lord will use he and his wife to bring about this rather unusual circumstance. Mary is confused as to how she will conceive since she has not had relations with man; Zechariah is skeptical of how God can work through two prune-aficionados.

In Daytime-Emmy-like fashion, Gabriel tells Zechariah that he will now be mute due to his unbelief. Confused, ashamed, and just plain worried, Zechariah emerges from his time in the sanctuary, unable to tell his compatriots what has happened. He then makes his way home to his wife, unsure of what will come of them in the next nine months.

As the seasons change, a child grows silently in his mother's womb. His father, beset with unbelief, also lives in silence, awaiting the son who is to herald in the rising of a new age. He watches as his wife moves about the house, hand on the small of her back, bearing much more than a child. In far-off Nazareth, a girl bears another child, to whom every knee shall bend. Mother and Savior come to visit; prenatal cousins leap for joy as their mothers greet each other. And, all the while, the Lord cultivates the rocky soil of Zechariah's heart.

Finally the day comes! Elizabeth endures great pains to bring forth the last prophet; Zechariah, pacing in the other room, experiences a different pain, that of great consternation. Elizabeth, relieved and exhausted after giving birth, looks upon her son with great peace and thanksgiving. Her husband, while happy for the gift of a child, still remains shackled in his unbelief.

On the eighth day the time came for the newborn boy's circumcision. Typically the day when the child receives its name, the relatives and those who performed the ceremony were going to name the boy Zechariah. "No," Elizabeth says, "his name is John." As though appealing to the father, the relatives bring the infant into the next room and ask Zechariah what he will name his child. "John, is his name" says the mute, now free from his silence and his unbelief.

Taking his son into his arms, he prays a great canticle to the Lord:

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel

For He has come to His people to set them free

To raise up for us a mighty savior

Born from the house of His servant, David

Through His holy prophets He promised of old

That He would save us from our enemies

From the hands of all who hate us

To promise to show mercy to our fathers

And to remember His holy covenant

This was the oath He swore to our father, Abraham

To set us free from the hands of our enemies

Free to worship Him without fear

Holy and righteous in His sight

All the days of our life

Gazing upon his son, Zechariah says:

You, my child, shall be called the Prophet of the Most High

For you will go before the Lord to prepare His way

To give His people knowledge of salvation

And the forgiveness of sins

Through the tender compassion of our God

The dawn from on high shall break upon us

To shine on those who dwell in darkness

And the shadow of death

And to guide our feet into the way of peace...

Many faithful Catholics pray Zechariah's canticle, the Benedictus, each morning with the Liturgy of the Hours. I admit that after six years of praying the Office, my mind wanders during this great song of praise. I pray it out of duty, like Zechariah offering incense in the temple, but oh how the Lord wishes so much more from me! How he wishes to silence our hearts from all empty distractions; if our hearts are still we will be able to hear and feel the growth of our faith in Him.

Whatever your circumstances, don't be skeptical of how the Lord is calling you to serve! Let us look to Zechariah, purified by the Lord, as an example. Let us look to John as well, who purified the ages in preparation for Christ, the One who will purify us so we may know of His great and merciful love!

PHOTO CREDIT, The Nativity Story

Holy Hours Keep Us "Up"

A couple weeks ago I headed out to the movie theater, strapped on a pair of stylish 3D glasses, and saw the newest animated picture, Up.

Disney-Pixar's newest release is about an elderly man, Carl Fredrickson, fulfilling his deceased wife's desire to move to a beautiful waterfall somewhere in exotic South America. Through a series or mishaps, an adorable Wilderness Explore, Russell, ends up joining Carl along his journey. Thousands of helium-filled balloons end up carrying the man's house, with Carl and Russell, all the way to the waterfalls where more action and adventure ensue.

The other night while in Omaha with Peter, somehow we got to sharing how important a daily Holy Hour is for us--that is to say a substantial time in each day for private prayer with the Lord. Having recently seen the movie, I compared the daily Holy Hour with, of course, Up.

Carl spends his adult life as a street vendor selling helium-filled balloons. When it comes time to move his house, he gets busy blowing up thousands, if not millions, of balloons to journey with his house--his whole livelihood--to a whole new world. Contrary to what the physicists and meteorologists might say, it ends up working. The balloons carry him all the way to the waterfalls.

Each one of our lives is incredibly graced. God's graces in our lives are like the thousands of balloons carrying Carl's house along. Our whole livelihoods are powered by nothing more than God's innumerable graces. They come in all sorts of colors and seem so different from one another, but together they keep us afloat. They really do all end up being tied together, in our cases at the center of our hearts. We may think otherwise, but ultimately it is love, generosity, compassion, courage, creativity, all all those other good virtues that sustain us and our communities.

But as Carl and Russell find out, sometimes balloons pop, get cut off, or float away. When gone unattended, they end up heading their own way and go unused. Their house sinks down bit by bit until, only a few feet off the ground, they have to walk it to its destination.

This is where the importance of a holy hour and an examination of our day comes into play. God did not just give us His grace for His own amusement or because he was bored. He is not a manipulative God. He freely gives us His graces so that we can know His love, mercy, and desire for us. Though we experience his graces all the time, sometime each day it is a good idea to reflect on them and to give God thanks and praise. The graces may seem small, but added up over time, they grow to be something big--big enough to move our lives closer to Him and his loving home for us.

Surely God sends us so many graces that many (if not most) go unnoticed or misunderstood. Sometimes we feel deflated, like we're loosing the battle, or that He has given up on us. With a substantial period of silent prayer each day we slowly begin to see just how many graces, balloons, God really is tying onto our lives and keeping us going, well, up.

(Disney-Pixar will love to hear me say this). So, if you've got the time and the money, go see Up. Bring your kids or friends and make an evening of it. It's full of simple spiritual wisdom and some very funny talking dog. ...and who doesn't love talking dogs?

The Vision at la Storta

St. Ignatius was always an ambitious man, from the time he was a child. He had a deep loyalty and love for the 16th century Spanish kingdom in which he lived. Until his mid thirties, he trained his best to be the toughest fighter and most handsome courtier. But that's not what made him great. There are no books about "Ignatius the Conqueror" or "Ignatius the Statesman." He never made it to the royal Spanish courts, in fact, he was later arrested and asked to leave Spain by the Inquisition. Even though for half his life he was taken by his pursuit for greatness, it was not until he was hit by a cannonball, gave up his dreams of greatness, and lost himself in God's great goodness. That led Ignatius where he truly wanted to go.

After Ignatius' conversion around the age of thirty, he was rather content growing in the ways of God for the next ten years. During that time he developed what is now the Spiritual Exercises, went off to University, and found some companions whom later became the first Jesuits. After a few years, and still uncertain exactly what to do for God and the Church, Ignatius and his companions found themselves bumming around outside of Rome. Sometime in October 1537, while we don't know exactly what happened, a few of Ignatius' companions report him having a mystical vision of the Holy Trinity, a popular devotion to which Ignatius' often prayed.

Ignatius's vision included God the Father with His risen son, Jesus, who was carrying His cross. He witnessed the Father ask Jesus to take Ignatius as His servant. Then Jesus, bearing His cross, posed the request to Ignatius, "We want you to serve us." It was such a moving experience for Ignatius that it affected the rest of his vocation (both directly and indirectly). Seeing himself and his companions at the service of Christ, Ignatius insisted that his blossoming religious order be known as "the Company of Jesus." Everything the companions did, from schools and libraries to missions and astronomy, would from there on out be dedicated for their ultimate companion, Jesus Christ. It made all the difference for Ignatius, the infant Jesuits, the Church, and eventually the World. Ignatius became important not through his own hands, but through God's.

So many people in Ignatius' time thought that they had to do something "pleasing to God" so that He would show us his love. And "pleasing to God" wasn't just a rosary and a kind deed. It meant walking in the snow barefoot, fasting until you can't stand, removing yourself from your community, and walking to pilgrimage destinations thousands of miles away. This perception of God not only made him not only incredibly demanding, but also very distant from his people. The "father" whom Jesus said pray to had become some form of an upset store manager.

But Ignatius' vision at la Storta tells us something drastically different about life and God's involvement through it all. To live in faith is to be growing every deeper in the trinity's consuming love. The deeper we go in the Father's love, the more we see that cross on Christ's shoulder. That cross is really just accepting the ordinary the humanity of life and seeing that through it all, Christ's risen love transforms everything. He did not die and rise again in vain. God's love does not hide us from our crosses--honest realities in our lives. It empowers us to embrace them and find His son along side us even in the midst of our struggles. And though we can't see it, all of this is done through the graces and kindness of the Holy Spirit.

From this one intimate vision in some worn-our roadside chapel came a group of men who grew all throughout the world dedicated to service, compassion, zeal, and love. Not too bad in my humble opinion. It sure beats going off to battle, formal banquets, and etiquette school to make a name for yourself. Call me crazy, but I think true freedom comes in the faith that I am loved by God. How do I know that? Oddly enough through serving others, listening to the cries of the Church, passing the day in prayer, and just hanging out with Jesus, waiting for His next call.

Father's Day: Learning to Shave

Ever-curious as a child, I remember watching my father perform his daily ritual: the morning shave. With a face covered in Barbasol, he would bring his Gillette razor upon his face, slowly gathering stubble grown since the last time he used his blade. After rinsing off his razor and washing his face with cold water he would apply aftershave to his ruddy cheeks; the scent still lingers about my consciousness. I remember being so enamored by my father's shaving, but I know realize that I was more enamored by him.

I admit it; I love my father. Having been blessed with two wonderful parents, I can't help but notice their influence in my everyday life. Through the ins-and-outs of my life, my parents have been there for me, always giving of themselves so that I could become the happy, holy (in progress), and healthy man I am today. Shaving, now part of my morning ritual, serves as a daily reminder of that love, particularly the love shown to me by my father.

My intrigue surrounding the art of shaving led to the purchase of my very own Ninja Turtles shaving kit, an Easter present from some combination of a furry creature and a loving mother. Thrilled, I eagerly awaited instructions from my father. While I lacked stubble and a blade to accompany my plastic razor, I felt I had discovered a whole new realm--manliness. Although it would be several years before I would truly shave, that instruction was one of many lessons in manliness I would be graced to receive.

"Dad, you've got something on your face."

"Oh. Thanks, Pal."

Just about as often as my father shaved came the tiny bits of tissue paper which served to stop the bleeding caused by a nick of his razor. These two or three little dots would make me giggle at times; I wasn't laughing when I started getting nicks of my own. Day-in, day-out I found myself reaching for wads of tissue to stop my cuts, the obvious signs of an imperfect shave. I learned from my father that it was okay to make mistakes; as long as we admit our faults and apologize to those we've wronged, we can wear those little patches of tissue with pride. Admitting our imperfections gives us humility and allows us to show up at the sink for yet another shave.

While I was never much of a delinquent, I had a few scrapes growing up. A few car accidents,a bad adolescent attitude, poor grades at the Jesuit high school, overdrawn checking accounts, and knock-down, drag-out battles over curfew left me with quite a bit of razor burn. Feeling down on myself for these faults and growing pains, I needed someone to show me how to better my technique. There was dad, meeting me at the sink, showing me how to patiently lower the blade to face my problems instead of hacking them to bits. His love was a healing salve to irritated skin, to parts of my life below or beyond epidermic concerns. How grateful I've been for these lessons on shaving; they've really been lessons on life!

Of all the things my father has taught me, faith in God is paramount. In a household where Sunday Mass was a mandate, I quickly learned that the Trinity was not some concept I could shrug off at the holy water font. In school, in grace before meals (at home and in public), and in conversation, I became aware of a Father who loves me unconditionally, who sent His Son to die for my sins, and who sent His Spirit to dwell within my heart. The love given to me as a child points towards the love that I receive as a son of the Father. This is what my parents promised at my Baptism and have faithfully carried out. Their love is an image of the love that God the Father gives to each of us!

I want to make a quick aside: for those of you who may not have had such a wonderful upbringing, you are no less loved by your true Father. He created you with great things in store, and continually presents you with gifts of His love. I pray that you may continue to grow in your love for the Father! Also, for those whose fathers have died, remember the good works that he made for your family, to care for and shower you with love. These acts, like those of St. Joseph, do not go unnoticed by our Heavenly Father. Pray for your father in hopes that you may be together again in paradise!

While there are many days when I look in the mirror and groan at the thought of having to shave, I look to my father and the example he continues to give: to show up, to give it my best effort, and never be ashamed to ask for help. While I've learned to shave, I recognize that it's a life-long process, just like our faith. Shortly after the razor leaves my face, I come with the same advice in mind as I approach the Father, eager to set out to do His will because of the example given to me.

A blessed Father's Day.

PHOTO CREDIT: BBC Online.

Year for Priests

Yesterday, on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart, Pope Benedict XVI began the Year for Priests. Throughout the following year all are asked to join their prayers to God in thanksgiving for the men who have responded to a priestly call, along with those whom God is calling to serve at His altar. We here at The Rock and the Sword are quite excited for this upcoming year--we love priests, and cannot wait until God calls us to be ordained!

I found it most fitting and providential that I got to spend the first full day of the Year for Priests with one of my best friends, our very own Paul. It was a true blessing to catch up after six months of emails and quick notes about blog posts (no offense).

What did we talk about? The priesthood! Most of our seven hours together consisted of sharing stories, struggles, and searching in the midst of our discernment of our priestly call. In the car, the pizza place, and--yes--the bar, we came to one conclusion: we are both humbled to be called to serve as priests and are willing to serve Christ wherever, however--all for Him. All for His Sacred Heart! As afraid and doubtful as ever, we turned to our patrons of long ago; those two apostles of the nascent Church felt the same stirrings in their hearts and allowed themselves to be transformed. As the city lights glimmered throughout Omaha, we prayed that we might respond in the same way.

Last night made me realize that the Year for Priests isn't just some neat little thing the pope promotes; we need to renew our love for the holy priesthood! This means everyone: our lay faithful must pray for their priests so that they may effectively shepherd them to Christ; our priests must unite their whole selves to faithful service at and beyond His altar; and, to those discerning a call to the priesthood, we must allow the Holy Spirit to dwell within us, compelling us ever-more to abandon our lives to Jesus! It's no small task, but we're never alone. Christ will show us the way; won't we cast out into the deep?

This little blog continues to provide us with innumerable blessings from the Lord. As Paul says, "it keeps us sharp." Too true. But even without our pen-names and posts, Christ calls each of us by name, to give of ourselves entirely for His people and His Kingdom. 

The Church needs saintly priests; ministers who help the faithful to experience the love and mercy of the Lord and who are convinced witnesses…. May the Virgin Mary,  whose Immaculate Heart  tomorrow we will contemplate with lively faith, help us to obtain this grace. -Pope Benedict XVI

God's blessings.

Secundum Cor Jesum

Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is a staple of Catholicism. For many, if not most people, there is at least some image of the Sacred Heart hanging in your local parish church. And for good reason! This devotion which was given to us through Jesus' visits of Saint Margaret Mary Alocoque gives us an insight into the very core of the Word Incarnate.

Think about it! Saint John says that "God is Love." Well if Jesus is God, and God is love, then the center of human love- the heart- is really like the center of the Divine Love embodied and enfleshed in Jesus! When we contemplate and venerate the Sacred Heart of Jesus- that burning furnace of divine charity- we do not just think of how arteries, veins, and chambers, but our minds are turned to that most incredible and adorable attribute of God: His Love.

For in the Sacred Heart of Jesus we see before us in a the shape of a human heart the love which has been eternally shared between the persons of the Holy Trinity. We see the love which led God to create the world and human beings as the apex of his creation, able to actually share in the life and love of the Trinity itself. We see the love that brought the chosen people out of slavery in Egypt. We see the love that caused king David to write that timeless songs of praise which are the Psalms. We see in it the love that is so strong, so fervent, so selfless, and so overflowing- that it allow itself to be poured in the form of blood and water on the dry soil of Calvary. 

This is the great mystery of the sacred Heart of Jesus. All the love of God, in its infinity, is held within the heart of a single man: Jesus the Christ. His heart beat in according with the holy longings of the Father and the Spirit who for all eternity have been enraptured in self-effacing and all encompassing charity. And in the Sacred Heart of Jesus we are able to see into that mystery. We see that love is something that calls us to be poured out. Offered up. And Sacrificed as a holocaust. A holy oblation of love. The heart of God. Pierced. Poured out, for me- and for you.

But this great Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus is not just a matter of us gazing upon statues and images and thinking about how incredible the love of God is. (Don't get me wrong- it certainly is that! and how sweet a think to contemplate!) But it is infinitely more that that! Because if we just piously gaze upon the Sacred Heart, and fail to allow the sanctifying grace which poured out from it transform our hearts then we have achieved nothing! We must, if we are to be truly devoted to the Sacred Heart, pray each day, and every minute of each day that most beautiful prayer- Jesu mitis et humilis Corde, Fac cor nostrum secundum cor tuum! Jesus, Meek and humble of heart, make our hearts like unto thine!  

The Sacred Heart is the model for what our hearts, through grace, are to become. When the Holy Ghost comes and takes up residence in our souls he begins the process of molding our stony and broken hearts into the perfect heart of Jesus. We must then beg the Holy Ghost to renew his work in our hearts today, so that transformed by his grace and his presence in our souls we may live, love and be like Jesus! We are called to be Divine lovers. We are called to be Sons and daughters of the Father. But we can truly love him if we have a heart like his only begotten son. So let us pray, this happy day, that in God's infinite mercy, he may pour into our hearts the fire of his Holy Ghost, so that purified and sanctified by his presence our hearts may be formed secundum cor Jesum. 

Saint Margaret Mary, Pray for us!

Saint Claude de Columbiere, Pray for us! 

Immaculate Heart of Mary, in whose womb was formed the Sacred Heart of Jesus, pray for Us!

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, Have mercy on us, make our hearts like unto thine!  

Fruits of Our Labor

After emails, a Facebook message, and talking on the phone, I finally got the hint from Peter that the ball is in my court to put up the next post. After three days of excuses, interruptions, errands, and community meetings, I have finally run out of "more important things to do."

After three days of business since being back at the novitiate, I finally have some time to breathe (just before hitting the road again on Friday morning). So for now, it's just me, the Dell, a can warm Coke, and my ramblings.

If you don't mind, I would like to start off writing by talking about, well, writing. I know, I know. How cliche! It's like watching a movie about the confusing life of an actor or listening to a song about how hard a singer's life is. It may seem ego-centric, but give me a chance here.

Ten months ago when Peter asked me about starting this blog, it seemed like a Spirit-filled idea. It just so happened that without talking to him, I had conceived a similar thought of my own: The Church could use some vocations. We have some good (if not sometimes odd) stories to share. We at least like to act like we are writers. Why not mix all those things together and wrap it in the form of a hip, culturally-popular thing called a "blog?"

We figured that our parallel brainwaves about starting a blog were good indicators that we should at least give it a try. So trusting a ton in the Holy Spirit we started writing away. I can honestly say that this humble little blog has been a blessing much larger than Peter or I could have ever imagined. Personal prayer, talking with Peter, or getting emails and phone calls from supporters have all confirmed the goodness of this blog. That fling of an idea in September has become a staple to many people's spiritual lives. That to me is humbling and awesome all wrapped up in one.

Okay, Paul, so what's the point of sharing all this? Personally, this blog has become an amazing tool for discernment. We've been doing it since the time of Ignatius who always chose to do what would be "more pleasing to his divine Majesty" and "the greater glory of God." Jesuits, at least internally, are known for their love of discerning things. (That is to say very briefly, choose to align our lives with whatever brings us closer to the love of Christ). Often I find people think that they only have to discern the "biggies" in life: marriage, kids, careers, mortgages, political elections, and religion. But as I have personally discovered, it's much more prevalent than that. Discernment starts with the little things.

Every single day we are bombarded with decisions:

Do I hit the snooze button again?
Toast or Cheerios?
Say hello to that annoying co-worker or not?
Type up the four-page paper now or after my nap?
Drive or walk?
Pray for the needy or watch another episode of "West Wing?"
Floss or not?
Blog or cook dinner?
Stay quiet or say what I feel?

The little things make us who we are. Yeah, the big decisions direct us where we go in life, but the conscience that makes those big decisions is formed in the quiet little ones. And so it is for me, an average, run of the mill Jesuit seminarian with probably too many commitments and an ever-growing blog on the side. To manage it all, remain fresh, joyous, and committed, I try to make every decision I face throughout the day a decision that reflects Christ.

Is what I am doing bringing hope and love to others?
Am I opening myself to God's mysterious love or ignoring it?
Will this little action I am choosing to do make bigger decisions easier or harder to make?
Can I give a little more of my heart to God's people today?
Am I really trusting others and in turn, God?

Most things that define who we are start off by simply trying something new. But with every decision we make regarding that new thing, we grow to be something new. If we do not look at what we are doing and how we are doing it, we can easily loose track of where we have gone and what happened along the way.

This blog has taught me how important discernment is in life. It's important in everybody's life. It really takes up a much larger part of our life than we think. It seems it would be wise to pray for open eyes and ears to sense God working in our lives and how we have been responding. And every once in a while we can step back to get a look at the big picture--a Mosaic of all of God's callings in our lives!

A Leap of Faith

"Okay...now jump!"

....

It was our final day of a two-week swimming course, and I was trying to get one of my pupils, a beautiful little Indian-American five-year-old girl, to jump off into the deep end. I sat on my rescue tube facing her, arms outstretched, inviting her to swim to me. She stood with toes curled over the lip of the pool, clearly noticing the big black "10 FT" mocking her from beneath her little brown feet. She shivered in spite of the August sun.

My heart went out to her as I picturing her with arm floaties at 15, friends laughing. We were at an impasse...

I don't know about you, but sometimes I feel this way with God. There He is, inviting me to cast off all my fears and anxieties about life, surrendering all into the unknown and swimming towards His arms. At times I protest in prayer, saying, "Are you NUTS?! You can't possibly expect me to do that! No, no thanks." I find myself standing on the edge, shivering as I ponder what would happen if I were to just "let go" or abandon myself to Divine Providence. All the while God waits for me with a big smile and outstretched arms.

I'm tempted to say, "I'll stick with the arm floaties, thanks."

If we're honest with ourselves, we'll realize how often we're called to die to self and to give who we are, all our thoughts, words and actions, to God's greater glory. We're entitled to have nice things, new cars, and corner offices--BUT--we're also called to sacrifice so that we may better praise, love, and serve the one from whom we've received all our blessings. He expects great things from every one of us, even if we don't expect it from ourselves. If we're truly going to follow Him, we have to trust that He will see us through our trials and sufferings, with outstretched arms.

My patron, Peter, faced similar trials in faith. Sure, he was thrilled to go places with the Lord and was ready to learn and serve, but when it came time to sacrifice and trust Jesus, Peter had misgivings:

-Oh, Lord, we've been fishing all night...

-No, Lord! Nothing bad will happen to you!

-He saw how strong the wind was, and began to sink...

-I swear I do not know the man!

Peter, like the rest of us, has trouble trusting sometimes; even right before his death he was fleeing Rome when Jesus appeared to him! Yet, despite the uncertainty, the doubt, the comfy life on the shore, Peter used the gift of faith to follow Jesus, to cast himself "out into the deep" (Luke 5:4). He discovered that Jesus was with Him the entire time...

So what ever happened to my little swimmer? After a few minutes and one deep breath, she leaped into the pool like she was on a spring. When she surfaced she was terrified, and broke into a frantic doggy paddle, searching for me in the midst of the splashes of water. I was right there, right in front of her; as I scooped her up into my arms, she looked at me with deep, brown eyes, relieved that she was safe and pleased with her accomplishment. How excited she and her mother were when she came out of the pool!

When God asks us to make a leap of faith, He's with us the entire time. But we have to be the ones to freely choose to respond to His great love. The road may be filled with sufferings, but oh how glorious it will be with Him in the Kingdom!

PHOTO CREDIT, Brookside Pool, Ashland, Ohio

Late Night Phone Convo

Sorry, folks. Paul and I spent a lot of time on the phone last night, so there won't be a big post today. Just know how great of a blessing this has been to all three us as we inch towards priesthood! I'm so excited to see Paul on Friday; six months has been far too long.

Here's a rainy-day clip (I didn't know it would actually rain when I wrote this) that I've been wanting to share with you. Enjoy, and say and extra prayer for Paul and me that we go to bed on time and save on long-distance phone bills!

Father James Martin, SJ is a well-known author and media commentator who has recently released his new book, A Jesuit Off-Broadway. The book tells of Father's encounter with a theatre production in New York City, serving as theological consultant and spiritual mentor to the cast and crew.

Don't you hate it when they won't let you embed the link to a clip? Here it is. Enjoy!

An Ordination and the Harvest

In a fuddled haze of travel across the nation this past week, I found myself in a tiny vestibule of a parish nestled in the great American heartland. I tried to shake off songs by Rod Stewart and John Mellencamp as we prepared for my friend's diaconate ordination. as the prelude played somewhere above our heads, he stood silently off to the side while priests, deacons, and servers gabbed on and on. As I looked at him, about to take vows of celibacy and obedience, I wondered what was going on in his head and heart. As though he heard my question, he turned to me and said:

"This is surreal. We've been talking about this moment for four years, and now it's here."

At that, the entrance hymn began, and my friend passed through the doors of his home parish like he had many times before. This time, however, was quite unlike the past 25 years of his life; here, in a farming town, my friend was about to be set apart:

"The harvest is plenty, but the laborers are few, so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest." -Matthew 9:37-38

Just in case you're unaware, God is quite the romantic. You see, it's one thing to talk of a vocation as a seed, being well-nourished and planted in a "seed bed" or seminary, in hopes that it will "bear much fruit." But it's simply beautiful when God calls the son of a farmer to assist in the harvesting of another field, that of souls. Taking what nourishment he received from his family, he ventured off and allowed himself to be watered and pruned, growing into one of the Lord's own. How fitting it is, then, that my friend was called to lie prostrate with the earth, the same soil his family has toiled since the Nineteenth Century. His response to God's personal vocation for him is the best thing his family's soil has ever produced. And they agree.

As we left my friend's small town and drove past countless rows of corn, I couldn't help but think of my own vocation (it's on my mind quite a bit these days). What am I doing to nourish my own vocation? How am I toiling in the field of discernment? Am I allowing God to remove the rocks and thistles? In two years God will call me, if He wills it, to lie prostrate and be ordained a deacon. Two years out, how do things look? Am I, as farmers say about corn, "knee-high by the Fourth of July?"

Watching my friend respond to God's call has been a tremendous blessing, one which spurs me on to answer my own call. I pray that all of us may more faithfully respond to our personal vocations, those planted by God in our hearts!

Pange Lingua Gloriosi

Pange Lingua Gloriosi

These words open the beautiful hymn with which first vespers of this great solemnity begin. They were written by one of the most piercing intellects and most passionate lovers of all time: Saint Thomas Aquinas. This holy man of God wrote all the hymns for this feast including the sequence, Lauda Sion, which is heard today at all the masses throughout the world. But, I begin to digress.

"Sing my tounge the Savior's glory" we translate these opening words of praise and how well do they seem for our great feast today. Corpus Domini. The Solemnity of the Most Precious Body and Blood of Our Lord. Truly this great mystery which we celebrate today cannot but cause us to proclaim with our tounges and, indeed, our very lives, the great glory and love of our God!

The Creator and Maker of all things comes down to us in such an unassuming and humble form: a simple piece of bread and a bit of common wine. He knows that we are too weak to handle his full glory and majesty so he came first as a man, but even to this day he continues his glorious incarnation under the forms of bread and wine. He comes to us vulnerable. For in his condesencion to come among us as first a man, and now as bread, he is able to be broken. He was able as a man to be rejected and derided. An outcast, crucified. And today as a simple piece of bread he is able to be recieved mindlessly, dropped on the floor, trappled upon, left unvisited and unloved, and even desecrated by those who hate the truth (we hear of and see such horrors of sacrilidge even on youtube!)

Yet, this danger, this possibility of rejection, does not change his mind, or cause him to be any less generous in his giving of himself. He accepted the cross lovingly, as a chance to show us the depth of his love, and he continues to come to us in the Holy Eucharist so that we might still be able to experience that love. But in the holy Eucharist, which comes to us through the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, we are able, not just to see the love of God for us, (for we certainly can!) but we become one with it! By our sharing the Cup of our Salvation and the Bread of Angels we are caught up in the love of God. His grace is poured out into our souls, and we are able to become one in his self-offering to the Father in Heaven!

The Holy Eucharist is the source of our union with God. It is the principle that makes makes us holy, that allows us to no longer live, and act and be just humans, but it allows us to live and act and be like God! The holy Eucharist, when we faitfully and fervently recieve it and adore it, makes us Saints. That is the bottom line.

That is the real mystery of this great feast. Certainly, we can ponder and pray about the great truth of transsubstantiation and seek to comprehend the great mystery of how bread and wine become body and blood. But, to a degree we must always rely on the Holy Ghost to supply us the faith, to believe even when it may seem absurd to our fallen and sinful minds. For it is only through our faithful reception of this most Blessed Sacrament, and the time spent in the presence of our Eucharistic Lord, that we are able to become the women and men that God has created us to be! For Jesus calls us to be his friends, and the Holy Eucharist is the place where we come to meet with our true friend. The more we are with him- just like all our friends- the more like him we become. Until, through the grace of this Holy Sacrament, we are able to say with Saint Paul, " I live, no longer, I but Christ lives in me!"

The Holy Eucharist. Our greatest treasure at Catholics. Our greatest treasure as human beings. We are so blessed to be able to draw near to our Lord not just in a spiritual way like our Protestant brethren, but in a true and real physical and material presence. He waits for us, longs for us, to draw near to him. He is waiting for us in tabernacles and adoration chapels all across our city, our country, and our world. Let us make sure this week that we do not forget about him, let us be faithful to our only true friend. Let's make time to visit him, our savior, our king, who comes humbles himself to come among us.

Pange Lingua Gloriosi. Indeed.

O Loving Jesus, ever present to us in the Most Holy Eucharist, draw near to
us this day and all the days of our life, so that we might sing your praises
forever around your throne in heaven. Amen. Alleluia!

Photo Credit: Fra. Lawrence Lew O.P. Blackfriars, Oxford

Serving at His Altar

My mom woke me from peaceful slumber that fateful fall morning in 1997; it was my first day as an altar server. I hopped out of bed, showered and brushed my teeth, all the while going through what we had been taught in weeks previous on how to serve Mass. Book, bells; candles, cruet, cup. Book, bells; candles, cruet, cup. 

Candles, cruet, cup.

"You remember everything?" my mother asked.

"Yesssh" I said through chattering teeth.

In the sacristy I paced around like an expectant father, waiting for the other server to show up. We sixth graders were told not to worry too much about serving the first few times; there would always be a seventh or eighth grader there to help us along. But as the clocked verged on 6:00, I had my suspicions. My teeth were chattering yet again, sounding more and more like a landing chopper. I prepared my self for imminent doom.

Candles, cruet, cup. Candles--cruel cup.

At five 'til my pastor barged into the sacristy, still smelling like last night's cigar. He took a stab at my name and then vested for Mass. When he turned around again and realized I was the lone server, he grunted to himself and said, "Don't worry. You're gonna do fine." I wondered if he told the same thing to the girl who had caught her hair on fire a few weeks before...

Candles...uh...oh no....

I'm sure there were many serving blunders that morning, but one sticks out above all others (perhaps I made myself forget the worst ones). By the grace of--well, God--I managed to get to the Offertory and place the Sacramentary, chalice, and ciborium on the altar. But then I blanked. "What do I do know," I thought as I looked at the Credence Table. Nothing came, except a cold sweat. I spun around to look for the priest; he was busy with prayers. I even searched for my mom in the pews, hoping she could coach me along; I couldn't get her attention. Like a deer in headlights I turned back and looked at Father, my eyes pleading for some hand signal or a whisper.

...WATER!... was the reply which reverberated throughout the chapel. Grabbing the cruet, dish, and towel, I felt like the Lion from The Wizard of Oz, quivering as I poured water over my pastor's hands. As he draped the towel over my arm and motioned for me to head to my spot, I spilled all the water down one of the air vents in the sanctuary. I nearly died. As Mass went on, I stood off to the side, thinking of how they would fire me from serving for sure...

Nearly 12 years later, I can now laugh at myself when I make serving mistakes (a little). There are still times when I blank or find myself sprinting furiously behind the scenes of our cathedral to get to where I need to on time. All in all, I'm able to appreciate the humanness of serving at His altar, since that's who we are and that's what we have to give.

You may not have ever served Mass before, but all of us serve the Lord in a variety of ways. As He stands at His altar deep in prayer for us, we bring Him the fruits of our labor, return the copious gifts and talents He has provided, and stand at attention, dutifully awaiting instructions as to how we can assist Him in the building up of His Kingdom. We may be asked to do specific tasks, namely our personal vocations; at times we'll look at our Lord with that deer-like stare, not knowing what to do. 

But not to fear! In the silence He will motion for us to come to Him, to remember the gifts He bestowed on us with the cleansing waters of Baptism, and then will smile down at us to show us how pleased He is with our service. Then we will be ready to loudly ring the bell when He is raised up before us, to announce His presence in the Eucharist, just as we announce His presence to all we meet!

While I may have had a traumatic first-time serving experience, I was still praised for my efforts, for showing up and trying. That's a huge part of what he asks of us--just showing up and giving it our best shot! He'll be so grateful if we do!

...And, if you're like me, your mom will take you out for bagels afterwards!

PHOTO CREDIT: St. Wilfred's, Camden, NJ

Summer Strivings

Since June is now in full-swing, I can't help but think one thing: What happened!

I, like most college students, have been finished with school for just under a month at this point, and it seems like it is just flying by. The days are filled with work, and visiting old friends, and a little nap if can be managed! But at the end of most of my days I sit in my room at home and often I can't help but feel exhausted! Summer is meant to be a break of mind and body from the rigour of the academic term, but lately it seems like it is more of a strain that even school, with the only difference being that the weeks go by even faster!

With all of this in mind I have been thinking a lot about what these precious summer months are about. For so many of us they are time for family vacation, and catching up with friends, and hopefully some good old American baseball games. But I think that these summer months should also be a time of spiritual renewal.

I know that when I was in high school there were always a lot of retreats that occurred in the summer, and I would usually go on at least one or two of them. These intense times of prayer and reflection always helped me to refocus my life on that which is important. Prayer. The Sacraments. Jesus. But often this refocusing would only last for a couple of weeks or even days after retreat because the business of summer, and later school would get me back into my old habits!

But this time of the year- the summer- is really the chance for all of us, but especially students, to work on our spiritual lives and to make some real growth. Maybe it is something big like getting up every morning before noon and going to daily mass! Jesus is waiting for us with untold blessings if we would hit the snooze just a few times less! But even on a smaller scale we can start integrating more prayer into our lives by praying the rosary in the car before we listen to the radio, or spending one hour a week in a local adoration chapel with Jesus. We spend so much time with our other friends- why not give some time to the one friend who will be with us forever! 

Today is the day my friends. The time is now. Let us seize this great gift of summer to renew our strivings for sainthood and holiness. It may cost us a little time, or a bit of sleep, but what how small do those thing seem when compared to the abundance of graces we will receive from the Lord if we open ourselves to him! So start today- spend some extra time in prayer, or in service to your neighbor. Go to mass, or help your parents out around the house... or do both! 

Today is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice, be glad, and give him the praise and honor that is due. Amen.

Prodigal Son, the Morning After

The workers are buzzing about the property, busy disassembling tents, tables, and chairs from last night's celebration. Workers chip away at the remnants of the swan ice sculpture, a last minute purchase which stood in the midst of the sumptuous feast. The Father, now with a much lighter pocketbook, sits on a wicker chair underneath the veranda, sipping an iced tea. He watches all the activity, smiling.

The door from the kitchen opens slightly; it's his son. Clearly just rising (as though from the dead), he grips a hot mug of coffee with both hands and slowly lowers himself into a chair next to his Father. Through bleary eyes he can see his Father turned to face him, grinning excitedly.

"Good morning! Boy we had fun last night!"

"...uh? Yuh--yeah. Yeah we did. I never knew you to be much of a dancer."

"Ha! Not much of a dancer! They used to call me 'Lord of the dance!'"

The son snorts into his mug before taking a sip of his steaming brew. Taking in a deep breath, he shifts in his chair to face his Father.

"About yesterday. Thank you so--

"Don't mention it. I'm just so glad you're home!"

"Yeah, I am, too. But you didn't have to--

"I mean it. It was nothing. I love you!"

A lone tear wells up in the son's right eye; it streams down his weathered face and plops into his coffee. In a few seconds a series of images from the past few months run across his consciousness: the Maserati Grandturismo, the Ecstasy, the dozens of women, the fifths of Johnny Walker Blue. The torched condo in Aspen. Getting ejected from the Bellagio when his Visa maxed out. Waking up naked in a dumpster. Doused in blood at the meat packing plant. All was forgiven him.

Indebted to his Father far more than half of an inheritance, a grin appears on the son's face, nearly matching that of the beaming face looking back at him.

"Come on!" the Father exclaims as he leapt from his chair. "Have I got something to show you!"

The son dutifully follows his Father over to one of the golf carts, barely climbing on before he hit the gas. Chuckling excitedly as gravel churned beneath the tires, the Father puts his arm around his son as they speed off up a winding path to the bluff which overlooked the property.

The sun shines brilliantly over the vastness of the property, the lush fields filled with crops, the forest of tall, sturdy pines, and the steady stream which runs into the valley, curving off into the distance. The son had forgotten it all. It was all so beautiful!

Suddenly, the guilt surged up inside of him once again. How unworthy was he of this love! He should be out in those fields below with the hired hands, muscles aching and back blistered under the harsh sun. Once more he felt his Father put his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close.

"You see all this? It's yours. All yours."

The son stammered as he tried to understand what had been said. "You--you mean that---

"Yes. It's all yours. It's my gift to you. You see, son, I give you all that I have freely, without reserve. I have so much and want to share it with you and with others, my other children. All I ask is that you love me in return.

"Oh, my child, how many people have lands as green as these and don't even realize it! They either go unnoticed on the other side of bluffs, or lay unattended out of indifference. Some are afraid to share their great gifts with others. They too have strayed as you have, but oh how happy I am when they return! I give everything I have to each of my children and seek for them to share their bounty with all they encounter. That is your work, my child!"

Embracing his Father out of thanksgiving for the absolute forgiveness and blessings he unworthily received, the son wept tears of great joy and love for the One who cared for him so much!

PHOTO CREDIT: Pompeo Batoni, Wikimedia Commons

Mass Chaos

As I knelt down in a pew at a local parish yesterday, I realized that it was the first time in what seems like forever that I wasn't serving a Sunday Mass. I didn't have to worry about whether the candles were lit, or if the altar servers knew what they were doing. Peace. 

I eased myself into the cool wooden pew, closed my eyes and thought, "Ah, this is what I remember, Lord."

And then the chaos began.

Honestly, I don't know how "you" do it. I'm speaking to the American Catholic, the week-in, week-out Catholic who faithfully fulfills their Sunday obligation and seeks a greater intimacy with our loving God. If I had any authority to dispense great amounts of sympathy to you, or perhaps a "Time off Purgatory" Card, I'd gladly do so, for sitting in the pews for a change made me realize how darn difficult it is to focus on Mass with the 1812 Overture being played all around you:

-One kid screaming for Daddy

-Another screaming for Mommy

-Someone dropping coins, after the offertory

-The priest's microphone wasn't working

-The cantor's mic was, but you couldn't hear her

-The organist pausing a few seconds between each note

-The homily lasting 15 minutes too long, and I'm being generous

And that, you might say, is nothing compared to what could have happened:

-Cell phones

-General chatter

-More coins

-People hacking up lungs

-Being pelted by Cheerios

-Ad nauseam

Maybe I'm not being charitable or patient. Maybe it's the eight days of silence from which I'm still acclimating. Maybe. But it makes more sense  how people feel compelled to make a break for the car after Communion, or why people don't stay and pray too often when Mass has ended (because it's like Grand Central Station!).

And still, week after week, you faithful followers dip your fingers into fonts and endure the chatter, the cell phones, and the children (I know I'm being hard on the kiddos; as great as they are, they can still be distracting. Disclaimer over). But why? Why haven't you gotten fed up by now?

I received an answer to my Mass quandary once the priest took the host into his hands moments before the Consecration. As he prayed the prayers which Jesus prayed on the night before He died, the noise in the pews decreased by a few decibels. And while there was some cooing and shifting around as the priest raised that host and chalice to the Holy Trinity, there was a peace found in the transubstantiation of bread and wine into the Body and Blood of our Lord. That, or more appropriately, He is what keeps people coming back week after week, in spite of the cacophony surrounding them. Christ dwells in the midst of our humanness; He loves us for making room for Him in the silence of our hearts.

So, I again extend my gratitude to you weekly Mass-goers; you get it. In the midst of the chaos, you find Christ. I'll try to remember how difficult it can be. Out of sympathy, once I'm a priest I'll try to keep my homilies to 25 minutes or so...

Haha... Just kidding. Peace.

O Most Holy Trinity

Today our Church celebrates the Feast of the Holy Trinity, our one God who reveals Himself in three persons. While the doctrine surrounding the Holy Trinity has always been at the fore of our Catholic faith, the feast itself was not universally celebrated until set forth by Pope John XXII in the 14th century. It's fitting that this feast is celebrated the Sunday after Pentecost, since it was then that the disciples first preached about the Father, Son, and "the Spirit of Truth."

And oh how beautiful it is, that our Father thought enough of His creation to send His only Son to earth, the Word made flesh who suffered on the cross so that our sins might be forgiven. And His Holy Spirit, whom He sent to the disciples and Mary at the Cenacle, to each of us so that we might feel His presence, be guided by His Truth, and experience His merciful love. How blessed are we to have a God who bestows on us His boundless love!

I'll be honest, in what should be a post filled with ardent love for my creator, redeemer, and sanctifier, I find myself at a loss for words (and that's a rarity) regarding this most important feast. Thus, let us turn to the Church Fathers for inspiration on how to worship the Holy Trinity.

Here's a snippet of what St. Athanasius says in the Office of Readings:

We acknowledge the Trinity, holy and perfect, to consist of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. In this Trinity there is no intrusion of any alien element or of anything from outside, nor is the Trinity a blend of creative and created being. It is a wholly creative and energizing reality, self-consistent and undivided in its active power, for the Father makes all things through the Word and in the Holy Spirit, and in this way the unity of the Holy Trinity is preserved....

Even the gifts that the Spirit dispenses to individuals are given by the Father through the Word. For all that belongs to the Father belongs also to the Son, and so the graces given by the Son in the Spirit are true gifts of the Father...

While this may seem like a bit of a head-scratcher, God's love for us is made resoundingly clear in the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. Each of His persons seeks to show resounding love that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit share for each one of us. May we be receptive to the grace that they have already bestowed upon us!

A blessed Trinity Sunday to you all!

PHOTO CREDIT, Hendrick van Balen, Wikimedia Commons

It Is Good to Be Here

Just finished with our eight-day silent retreat; what a tremendous blessing! Like St. Peter said to Jesus at the Transfiguration, "Lord, it is good to be here!"

I'll be back tomorrow for the Feast of the Holy Trinity. Please pray for Paul as he reaches the half-way mark through his own eight-day retreat!

Peace,

Peter

The Great Missionary of Germany

Today is the feast day of the great missionary to Germany Saint Boniface. Saint Boniface was born in England about the year 673. He was first professed in the monastic life in Exeter but in 719 went to Germany to preach the Gospel. He made many converts there and was consecrated bishop, ruling over the church at Mainz. He attracted many companions by whose help he founded or restored diocese in Bavaria, Thuringia and Franconia. He also convened councils and promulgated laws. While preaching the Gospel to the Frisians, Saint Boniface was killed by Pagans in 754. His body is buried in the monastery of Fulda. 

Here is an exert from one of this holy martyr's letters. May his words enflame our hearts with a similar zeal for the things of God on this first friday of June. Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, Have Mercy on Us!

In her voyage across the ocean of this world, the Church is like a great ship being pounded by the waves of life's different stresses. Our duty is not to abandon ship but to keep her on her course.

The ancient fathers showed us how we should carry out this duty; Clement, Cornelius and many others in the city of Rome, Cyprian at Carthage, Athanasius at Alexandria. They all lived under emperors who were pagans; they all steered Christ's ship- or rather his most dear spouse, the Church. This they did by teaching and defending her, by their labors and sufferings, even to the shedding of blood.

I am terrified when I think of all this. Fear and trembling came upon me and the darkness of my sins almost covered me. I would gladly give up the task of guiding the Church which I have accepted if I could find such an action warrented by the example of the fathers or by holy Scripture.

Since this is the case, and since truth can be assaulted but never defeated or falsified, with our tired mind let us turn to the words of Solomon: Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own prudence. Think on him in all your ways, and he will guide your steps. In another place he says: The name of the Lord is an impregnable tower. The just man seeks refuge in it and he will be saved.

Let us stand fast in what is right and prepare our souls for trial. Let us wait upon God's strengthening aid and say to him: O Lord you have been our refuge in all generations. 

Let us trust in him who has placed this burden upon us. What we ourselves cannot bear let us bear with the help of Christ. For he is all powerful and he tells us: My yoke is easy and my burden light.

Let us continue to fight on the day of the Lord. The days of anguish and of tribulation have overtaken us; if God so wills, let us die for the holy laws of our fathers, so that we may deserve to obtain an eternal inheritance with them.

Let us be neither dogs that do not bark nor silent onlookers nor paid servants who run away before the wolf. Instead let us be careful shepherds watching over Christ's flock. Let us preach the whole of God's plan to the powerful and to the humble, to rich and to poor, to men of every rank and age, as far as God gives us the strength, in season and out of season, as Saint Gregory writes in his book of Pastoral Instruction.

Saint Boniface, Bishop and Martyr, Pray for us!

An Afternoon with St. Augustine

I have heard it said that you don't make it through a Jesuit university without at least having read St. Augustine's famous autobiography, Confessions. I have also heard it said that you don't make it through Confessions without having fallen asleep while reading it at least once. Inspired with this confidence, I decided to dive once again into the Church classic the other day with the sure thought that it would carry me into a nice afternoon nap.

My eyelids were heavy and I was all but asleep. Augustine had been writing about things that Doctors of the Church seem to love discussing: existence, non-existence, transient things, pestilent desires, physical perception, limitations, etc. All these things are good for us to discuss, but mixed together with a lazy rainy afternoon they just become sleepy pages of confusion for me.

Then I got to the underlined paragraph and understood why St. Augustine rocks.

Do bot be vain my soul. Do not deafen your heart's ear with the tumult of your vanity. Even you have to listen. The Word [Christ] himself cries to you to return. There is a place of undisturbed quietness where love is not deserted if it does not itself depart. ...'Surely I shall never go anywhere else', says the word of God. Fix your dwelling there. Put in trust there whatever you have from him, my soul, at least now that you are wearied of deceptions. Entrust to the truth whatever has come to you from the truth. You will lose nothing (Confessions IV.xi).

My eyes crept back open as I read through the passage. I sat in my chair thinking, one, that this stuff rocks and, two, this is totally blog material.

In this passage, St. Augustine's intended listener is his soul. The problem? The soul's addiction to vanity. Its effects? A life of distraction, noise, and pride. The solution? Christ and humbling ourselves to live in his ever-open "undisturbed quietness."

Let's not kid ourselves. Let's open our souls today and tell them, "Even you have to listen." The same challenges with vanity, pride, lust, bitterness, and fear affect our souls today. We are bound to go through this life facing challenges both within the world and within our own hearts. Some we will face with success and others, sadly, with failure. Our christian lives are much more developing journeys than they are static objects. We are a "pilgrim people." It is my humble opinion that along this journey, to better hear Christ leading our hearts, we must pray. In particular, to come to allow our hearts to dwell with God, we must pray for humility and mercy.

Humility.

Our lives are God's. When we are baptized we cease to live for only ourselves. Primarily, we live for Christ and His Church. This is the job of every Christian from the youngest to the oldest. Our pride tells us that it is all about us. Our faith tells us it is all about God. Pride gets us comfort. Faith gets us salvation. Faith keeps alive every grace and promise of love that Christ ever gave to us while walking around Galilee and Jerusalem 2,000 years ago. Trying to grow in humility frees us from the expectations we (as well as others) have placed upon us. It then brings us to see what Christ really is asking of us. Putting Christ in the center of our lives, we find our vocation to serve and our joy.

Mercy.

We mess up. The difficult thing about being a pilgrim people is that, well, we aren't there yet. Sometimes that is frustrating and temptations along the way seem to be a lot more appealing or make a lot more sense. Yet the farther we stray from all the other pilgrims on the trail, the more lost we become and the harder it is to get back. God's mercy brings us back to the trail, even when we should totally be lost. "Survival of the fittest" has no room in God's plan for our salvation. If we are open to it, even curious about it, God will show us his mercy. We find it in the forgiveness of a friend, the compassion of an enemy, and most of all, the Sacrament of Confession. We once again become God's people and, closer to Him, we can better hear His call.

Mercy and humility go hand in hand. Giving into one is giving into the other. Both are giving into the truth. And if we do this as Christians, Augustine encourages us, "you will loose nothing."

There is so much more to write on this topic, but lacking St. Augustine's masterful skill and brilliant words, and still wanting that nap, I will call it quits for now. I simply ask that we pray for men and women of humble hearts full of God's mercy that will answer the call to be His ministers as priests and religious, to be ministers of that same humility and mercy which they have received.

It's all about confidence

So I was driving home last night when I noticed a billboard. On it was a young, smiling woman with perfect hair, bright white teeth, and golden skin. Next to her was an advertisement for some place called "Image Solutions," a type of store who's goal it is to make people look good. Above the Vanna White wannabe and the advertisement was a phrase,

"It's all about confidence."

At first I scoffed, thinking to myself what a cheap ad. There is so much more to confidence than nice skin. But the beautiful thing about advertisement is that it always tugs on a certain truth. Ultimately, more than anything else, truth sells. People like someone or something they can trust. People like the truth. It's part of natural law.

I realized that "It" really is all about confidence. What we do with our lives depends on where we place on trust, with whom we place our faith. And we have a choice (it's part of that free will thing). Every person I have ever met, be it the most inspiring bishop, a critical atheist, or a searching agnostic, has faith. What sets them apart is how they understand faith and where they choose to place it. But in the end they are putting their trust, their confidence, in something.

So where are you putting your confidence? With whom do you hold your faith?

Some people put it in their appearance. They go to Image Solutions and pay lots of money to get rid of their wrinkles. Some people put their confidence in their academic grades, getting it right. They may think, if I am really smart then I am sure to get ahead in life. Some people put their confidence in the fruits of their labor. I must be living right if I have all of this cool stuff in my possession. And some people put their confidence in fate. Rather than take care of a problem now, they wait for their destiny to play itself out.

I would humbly suggest that as Christians, that we place our confidence in something a little bit bigger. I pray that we continually grow to place our confidence in Christ. I pray that little by little we take our trust from the things of this world and replace it with trust in God. After all, everything in this world first came from Him in His graciousness.

Placing our confidence in God and His son, Jesus Christ, really makes all the difference. Things seemingly difficult, out of the question, and even impossible become viable possibilities. And on top of it all, it is naturally done with Joy! A life with the confidence in Christ looks like this: Missionaries in far off lands and different cultures are able to evangelize the faith. Parents with a pile of bills and four little kids find support and comfort in their neighbors and fellow parishoners. Students new to a high school or university come to find a caring and faithful group of friends that will last them for life. Priests not sure which direction to take the parish are inspired to bring his parishoners to a deeper understanding of Christ. Vocational discerners are not afraid to embrace the true call they have been hearing from Him.

Folks, it's all about confidence. Placing our confidence in Christ sets us free to love and serve and be joyous. It sets us free to go beyond the normal status quo. It puts us past taking care of "me and my own," and tosses us and those around us into the role of loving the whole world. With confidence in Christ and His mysteriously powerful Holy Spirit, nothing can keep us down.

What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or
persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? As it is written:
"For your sake we are being slain all the day; we are looked upon as sheep to be
slaughtered." No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who
loved us. (Romans 8:35-37)

Humbled, Honored...Nominated?

It turns out that we at The Rock and the Sword have been nominated in four categories in the Catholic New Media Awards. Pleasantly surprised and, well, feeling a bit like David amongst all the Goliath Catholic-bloggers, we're thankful to have been nominated for the following:

Best Group Blog
Best New Blog
Best Blog by a Religious
Most Spiritual Blog

We've decided to pull our support behind the "Best Group Blog" category since we could not have come up with eight months of posts without each other, nor without the Holy Spirit. If you'd like to vote for us, click here!

More than anything, though, we hope to continue to win souls for Jesus through our little blog (and no, this isn't a ploy to make you vote for us; we mean it). Thank you so much for your prayers, compliments, encouragement, and support!

Peace,
Peter, Paul, and Andrew