Open Wide the Doors for Christ!

That said, my goal with everything that I did during Lent is to not only cut out those things that take me away from following Our Lord but also filling those gaps with positive things, related if possible, that bring me closer to Him.  So, I was hopeful that in the extra time that I gained from not wasting (as much) time on the internet I would be able to write more blog posts.  Well, that didn't happen, at least not nearly as much as I wanted it to.  Blog writing - I have found - is a lot harder than I thought it would be.  Somehow, I guess it was beginners luck or something, I managed to write a post every day during the first month or so of blogging, but, despite my best efforts, I haven't been able to come close to that kind of pace for a long while.  I think part of the reason is that I want my blog posts to be a bit more comprehensive - wrapping together multiple topics, or at least connecting things I do with things I believe, but it also just takes time to write a several-hundred word essay (of any sort).  

So, with these two ideas in mind I started thinking about starting a secondary blog that would have shorter posts, maybe just a quote I found, or a quick update on what I was up to.  And then I realized that this sort of thing already exists, it's called Facebook (and Twitter)...  Now, I was reticent to sign up for either of those social media networks because I had heard they were a huge time-waster (not something I needed), sometimes full of dumb and pointless arguments (not something I needed), and had destroyed real communication between people (replacing it with an artificial feed of minor, unnecessary, details about somebody else's life).  So, I kept out of it.  And yet the topic kept coming up.  Somebody would ask if I had a Facebook, and I'd say no, but then would think about getting one.  Then somebody else would say that it was a big waste of time, so I'd avoid getting one.  Basically, everybody had one, but I couldn't find a convincing reason to get one, so I didn't.  Well, I've finally started to find some of those good reasons:

First, I know that Facebook may be full of things that can waste my time - memes, videos, links, stuff, arguments, whatever - but it isn't all bad.  Obviously, I'm not on there right now, but you can find something good in pretty much anything, so I'm hopeful that if I follow the right people, look at good pages, and whatnot (I'm sure my terminology here is woefully inadequate) I'll be able to find plenty of good stuff on there.  I have been blown away over the past year or two of the incredible amounts of solid Catholic truth that you can find on the internet - YouTube, blogs, etc. - and I expect that the same is true of Facebook.

Second, I'm going off to Rome; I want to be able to keep in touch with folks from back home, from here at Brute, and elsewhere.  Yeah, Facebook isn't a good replacement for face-to-face communication, but several thousand miles tends to inhibit that kind of communication anyway, and I don't want to let the friendships that I have come to cherish just dwindle away into a letter or two each year.  Facebook is full of pointless details about people's lives - sure - but it is also the preeminent way - in our modern world - of keeping in touch.  Could things be better? - I suppose, but I figure keeping in touch electronically is better than not keeping in touch at all.  

Third, and we'll see how this one works out, I want to be able to spend a minute or two here and there to update you guys with what is going on around here, little details from class, short quotes from books, things that struck me during the day...  It's hard (and time-consuming) to get those into blog posts.  I really, really, hope to not cut back on blogging (I enjoy it immensely), but I find myself missing so many things that I really want to share.  Those light-bulb moments during Adoration, that great YouTube video that I come across, that fact from class that is interesting, those conversations that happen all the time - things that I usually forget before blogging about them.  Are you interested in them?  I have no idea, but I'd guess you'll be interested in some of them, and I certainly think they are worth sharing.

Fourth, and this is the biggest reason.  The New Evangelization is marked by new expression, new means, and new ardor.  That includes the internet.  As the Synod of Bishops on the New Evangelization said:

I was watching a video by Mark Hart and he said that Jesus' use of parables is analogous to the instant communication found on things like Facebook and Twitter.  Jesus was meeting people where they were at, with seemingly simple stories, that - when plumbed - revealed the depths of the Truth found in God.  Similarly, people these days are not reading the Pope's homilies, or the Catechism, or listening to Lighthouse CDs, but they are on Facebook, a lot.  And thus, the opportunity to bring the Truth of Christ to them is incredible.  There are something like a billion users - that's like 1 out of every 7 people - of Facebook.  People can argue over whether or not people should be that connected to a website, but while I'm staying out of it there are millions of people who haven't heard the Gospel, and maybe if I get in there I can reach one of them.  If I can plant the seeds of Christ's message in one person, it's worth it.  The priest, but also every other Catholic, is called to evangelize, that's why I'm in seminary, to bring people to Christ.  I could avoid Facebook - sure there are other methods of reaching people - but that would be like the Apostles just sitting in Jerusalem, writing a book about Jesus and hoping that people read it instead of actually stepping out there - getting on a boat, or a camel, or whatever - and telling people the Gospel.  Christ calls us to preach to the ends of the world, not just to the friendly people that read my blog.  Is there a possibility that Facebook is a waste of time? - Yep, but it isn't one necessarily.  Are there things on Facebook that aren't the greatest? - Yep, but there were also things in Rome that weren't the greatest and St. Peter took the message there despite it.

Now, just because I wrote up this long post talking about these decent reasons for getting out there on Facebook, Twitter, etc. doesn't mean that you have to.  Certainly, there are good reasons not to, and certainly there are other ways to communicate, read Catholic stuff, and preach the Gospel, but I've at least convinced myself that getting on such sites is something I don't want to put off any more.  Will I never waste time on there, or never see anything dumb, or always preach the Gospel - probably not - but, I'm going to give it my best shot!  

Also, I don't know exactly how I will end up using Facebook or Twitter - so this is kind of an adventure for me - but I hope (and pray) that it may end up glorifying God at least a little bit!  We'll see!

Link to Facebook

Thank goodness that we celebrate Easter for an entire week (actually 8 days!) because I have been extremely busy for the last week, and I haven't had the chance to say anything about the most important solemnity of the year.  Happy Easter!  He is Risen!  Continuing my previous thought though, you know what, being busy is OK.  Obviously, I'd like to have been able to have some more free time and be able to write some more posts (and do other things), but I have slowly come to realize over this Easter that my life absolutely has to be about God, and what He wants me to do, not what I want to do.  I'm hoping to churn out a few posts over the next several days all encompassing (or at least relating back to) this all-important point because over everything else that has been going on it is this idea that keeps hitting me.  I guess I have some work to do!  

Alright, first story: being a subdeacon...  After finishing up my classes on Holy Thursday, I endured the long drive home and made it back in time to go to the Mass of the Lord's Supper that evening.  As I have mentioned in the past, we (the family) attend Mass at St. Rose, which is staffed by the F.S.S.P. and has Mass in the Extraordinary Form.  Anyway, I ended up helping out at the end of Mass when they transferred the Eucharist to the reserve Tabernacle and needed a thurifur (interesting fact: it's harder than you think to spin around, incense the Blessed Sacrament, and then continue walking forward without tripping or running into the priest).  

That evening, knowing at this point that I was going to have to be subdeacon for the rest of the Easter Triduum (and not really wanting to), I spent a lot of time praying that God's Will be done and that I'd have the strength and courage to do it.   (Another thing that I learned: don't think that by kneeling the entire 3 hours on Holy Thursday night impresses anybody, but yeah, it does hurt the knees, and thighs, and back...)  Back onto topic: I really wasn't scared of what I would have to do for subdeacon - that sort of thing you can learn in practice - but I was very uncomfortable stepping into that role.  It turned out to be a good - though long - evening of prayer; I had some quality time to think about things, offer them up, and realize that my doing subdeacon was a small way to become a bit more like Christ, especially as we were in the midst of recalling His Passion.  I mean, there I am - trying to spend some time in prayer, as Jesus asked His disciples to do - and it's really hard to complain to Him about being subdeacon when He accepted from God a much, much, harder task.

On Good Friday morning I went for a short run (we are back in the swing of training for a mini-marathon) before myself and my brother headed over to church to do some training for the liturgy that would take place that afternoon.  We returned home after the hour-long practice and found that one set of cousins/aunt/uncle had arrived.  It was one of those things, I wasn't looking forward to the whole subdeacon thing, but I always enjoy hanging out with my extended family immensely, so that took my mind off the whole thing.  We attended Stations of the Cross at noon, followed by a small collation (don't get to use that word too often...) of PB&J's and apples.  3 PM eventually did roll around though, and so back to church I went, feeling at peace with the whole thing but still kind of wishing that I didn't have to.   We (Father, the deacon, and myself) vested in albs/cinctures, with amice and biretta (the first time I had worn either of those) and out we went - them, probably meditating on Christ's passion, me, on the "outfit" I was wearing.  However, my selfish focus wore off pretty quickly when the liturgy began with us prostrating ourselves for a minute on the marble floor of the sanctuary; it was a cold, hard, reminder that His will is more important than mine!  There were a set of prayers/readings that were chanted (during which I didn't have to do much of anything) and then the Passion was chanted (again, I was just standing there).  Next we had the veneration of the cross.  My part was simple: stand next to Father and help him slowly unveil the (large and heavy) crucifix.  It wasn't perfect (I missed one of my genuflections), but nothing went up in flames, or broke, or was invalid, so that's alright.  Then we took off our shoes and walked up to venerate the cross (now supported by two servers) - again reminding me that it has to be about Him, about His will, about loving God and giving yourself entirely to His Will (not about my qualms about wearing a biretta, acting as subdeacon, and everything else)...  The last part of the liturgy went quickly - there was just the distribution of Holy Communion, a few more prayers/readings, and then the procession out, but it was the most uncomfortable and difficult moment for me because this was when I had to put on a tunicle (which looks really similar to the dalmatic which a deacon wears).  As I mentioned before, canonically it's fine for a layman to fill the position of subdeacon (in case of necessity), but I sure didn't feel ready to do so.  Anyway, I put it on, we finished up the liturgy, and that was that.  It wasn't quite as bad as I thought, and the world didn't end when I put it on, but what struck me was how heavy it was.  It wasn't like unbearably weighty, just dense.  It's hard to explain, but I couldn't really forget that it was there, it felt like that lead vest they put over you when you have dental x-rays (I've had plenty of practice with those), but of course, in the liturgy celebrating Good Friday, it had a lot more meaning.  It reminded me (again) that my job in life is to discern, and do, the will of God.  Sometimes that will be enjoying the company of people you love, sometimes that will be struggling to stay awake when squinting for 5 hours, sometimes that will be staying up till midnight praying, and sometimes that will be doing something you don't want to do, stepping outside of your comfort zone, (literally) picking up that cross, or yoke, or tunicle.  

After the liturgy we spent a few minutes talking with other people in the parking lot and many were excited that I got to do subdeacon.  I was certainly less enthusiastic than they were (probably need to work on being more positive), but one person said something to the extent that "I bet that made you think about your vocation didn't it?"  And it did!  Being in that position, and not really wanting to be there, made me think about the call to priesthood.  I don't want to keep using the same phrase, but priesthood is not about me.  It's about giving myself completely to God, and to bringing souls to Heaven for Christ.  It's not like as soon as I'm ordained everything will become comfortable and I'll love doing everything.  Sometimes I am going to have to step into tough situations, do things for people that I don't want to do, or just put myself out there in some way.  

Sorry, this will have to be continued...  It's now midnight and Mass will come early tomorrow.  Gosh, I am so sorry to not have gotten out any posts the last week, but after a few tests, and quizzes, and presentations, and miscellaneous assignments, and going out to eat, and training for the mini-marathon, and practicing for schola, oh, and praying, and reading, and studying - and I just didn't have any time.  Again, I really, really hope to get more written this week (especially since I haven't finished even this whole story, much less all the other ones that tie into it, much less the entire realization of learning to follow Christ more fully...)  My plan is to pump out shorter posts, more often - hopefully that way I'll actually be able to get some completed throughout the last week of classes and finals week.  Hope springs eternal!  

Seriously though, I hope that all of you had an amazing, blessed, truly joyful Easter!  Happy Divine Mercy Sunday!  Pope Saint John Paul II and Pope Saint John XXIII pray for us!

So it's now 10 PM here at the castle (as we like to call it), and I just finished one of the many assignments which were forced onto my to-do list this week (it's probably been my busiest week yet this semester, which is saying a lot) but I really wanted to write a post because the ideas are fresh in my head (I just got back from optional Adoration a while ago - always a good source of such ideas) and I haven't written a post in too long, so here it goes...

Yesterday, as you all know, we celebrated the solemnity of the Annunciation, when Mary accepts God's will for her to become the Mother of God, and thus, the request that the angel brings to her is remembered forever as an announcement of great joy.  I think it is so beautiful when, in the middle of Lent, the Church gives us these glimpses or reminders of the joy that should be building in our hearts in anticipation of our redemption at Easter (which, of course, begins with the Incarnation).

I was talking with a few guys yesterday about why we celebrate the Annunciation and not the Incarnation.  It was the same event, and it sure seems like God becoming man is more important than Mary accepting Him as her Son (despite how important that was!), but, yesterday I had the chance to watch the movie, Mary of Nazareth in theaters (it is screening around the country) and it somewhat put things in perspective.  The movie beautifully portrays the life of Mary from her childhood all the way through the resurrection.  I don't want to spoil the movie, so I'll just make a few points.

Firstly, Mary is gently smiling through a lot of the movie - enough that I noticed it and was beginning to think it was a bit cheesy - but then one of the guys pointed out that she was constantly, consistently, completely abandoning herself to God's will.  She joyfully accepted whatever God requested of her, every time.  Did she always know what that would entail? - no (and the movie did a fantastic job portraying this) but she did always accept it.

Secondly, there was a tenderness and intensity in the relationship between Jesus and Mary that I guess I never realized.  A movie makes things that you read or think about so real.  I was praying the Rosary at that Holy Hour that I just got back from and usually my mind drifts off during the decades about the assumption and coronation of Mary.  I don't have a good image to meditate on in my mind, or a good story from scripture, so my mind usually ends up blank (or worse) and I end the rosary on a low note...  But today, with the images of the movie still fresh in my mind, I found it very easy to see the point of these mysteries.  Of course Jesus brought Mary up to Heaven with Him - She was His beloved mother, not only the most perfect person (other than Himself) to ever walk the earth, but she was the person that Jesus was closest to on earth and she was the person who had cared for Him throughout His life.  Of course He is going to reward her for that constant love with the most perfect of bliss with Him in heaven!  Again, of course He would crown her Queen of Heaven and Earth, not only does she deserve it, but He just gave her to us for our mother.  Going way back into the Old Testament shows us that the queen was the one the people went to, the one who took care of them, the one who was not only mother of the king but also mother of the people.  The movie made all these things make more sense and really come alive in my mind (it was great!)

Thirdly, the movie made the story of our salvation seem so much more real to me.  (Yeah, I just said that in the previous point, but I wanted to keep talking about it, and I wasn't just looking at Jesus' relationship with His mother anymore).  Looking at everything as Mary saw it, as Mary responded to it, is such a beautiful vantage point.  Yes, the movie is the production of human minds - with actors/actresses, scenes, budgets, and everything else.  No, this movie isn't inspired or something - though, of course, it follows the Bible extremely closely.  However, by putting real people into the stories that we read in the Bible it adds an emotional, visceral, and pictorial connection to the drama and reality of our salvation like noting else.  You saw how the lines of the story interwove, how difficult it would have been for Joseph to take Mary into his home, how brutal Herod was, how boldly John the Baptist acted, how trusting Mary was (already mentioned that one...), how merciful Jesus was, how doubtful the Apostles were.  You saw Mary acting as a mother, caring for Jesus, and later (after His death) caring for His apostles.  You saw Mary saying "be it done to me according to Your will" at countless points throughout the story as she encounters something she doesn't understand or any moment of suffering.  It all leapt off the page of scripture and into flesh and blood, into images that I will now be able to meditate on.  I don't want to make this movie into something it isn't, but it was pretty inspiring, and the more I think about it the more depth it adds to my own understanding of the whole mystery of redemption.  

In other words, it was a great movie, highly recommended, not perfect, but very thought-provoking (in the best sense of the phrase) and something that I am very glad I cleared time to do.  It's so much more than I managed to mention in this post, there are so many more thing that it will show me in the weeks to come, but I certainly can't write them all, so I guess you'll have to see it for yourself...

Now, off to bed.  I can't promise that I will get to posting more often just yet, I keep wanting to, and I keep (like everyday) having great ideas for posts, but apparently there are only 24 hours in the day and I'd like to be in bed for a few of them...  Good night!  Happy Lent!

Interesting fact of the day (that you just might already know): the date of Easter was decided at the 1st Council of Nicaea (325 AD) to fall on the first Sunday, after the full moon, after the March equinox (March 20th or 21st).  This means that Easter can fall as early as March 22nd, or as late as April 25th.  Now, the dating of Easter, while interesting, won't be the topic of this post, rather I wanted to take a look at the 40 days that make up the season of Lent.

In most romantic languages (as well as Greek), the word describing the season we call "lent" is in fact a word meaning 40 days - Latin: quadragesima, Italian: quaresima, Spanish: cuaresma, etc.  In Slavic languages, the word typically means something like "fasting time" - Czech: postni doba, Russian: vyeliki post, etc.  But, in English, we just get the word "lent", which just means "spring", deriving from earlier words which have something to do with the days lengthening.

Alright, so the English word "lent" is pretty boring, but the background behind the 40 days of Lent is nothing of the sort.  Lent, as all of you know, is 40 days long, and started last Wednesday (Ash Wednesday). Liturgically, it only lasts until Holy Thursday, at which point the Easter Triduum begins with the Mass of the Lord's Supper.  If you include Sundays, between Ash Wednesday and Holy Thursday there are 42 days, not quite the 40 that we are looking for.  However, if you subtract the Sundays (-6) and add Ash Wednesday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday (+4), you get 40 days exactly, which, as far as I could tell, is how the duration of Lent has been calculated (at least in the West) since the 4th (or maybe 6th) century.  

So, there we have the history of how Lent has gotten the structure it does, but why 40 days?  Of course, we see the number 40 all throughout the Old and New Testaments.  It rained for 40 days during the flood of Noah, Moses spent 40 days on Mount Sinai, the Hebrews spent 40 years wondering in the desert, Jonah prophesied that Nineveh would be destroyed in 40 days if it did not repent, Our Lord spent 40 days fasting the the desert after His baptism, and is traditionally thought to have spent 40 hours in the tomb after His death (Good Friday afternoon until Easter morning).

This still leaves us with the question of why 40?  Sure, 40 is a number that obviously has significance because it keeps showing up, but why?  7, as you may know, was considered in the Old and New Testaments to symbolize completeness and perfection.  Thus, the 7th day of creation is after God finishes creating the world and forgiving your brother seventy times seven times indicates that you must always forgive (not just 490 times).  Alright, so back to my question, why 40?  An idea that I had never heard of, but seems to make some sense, that I found on the catholic gentleman blog (and elsewhere later on) was that this number 40 comes from the number of weeks that a woman is pregnant before she gives birth.  The 40 weeks of pregnancy are marked with difficulty (on the part of the mother), but afterward she is blessed with the incredible gift of new life in her child.  Just so, the 40 days of Lent, the 40 days Our Lord fasted in the desert, and the 40 years the Israelites spent in the wilderness, are all times of denial and some sort of suffering before the new life that we will hopefully find at Easter, that came with Jesus' public ministry, and that the Israelites found upon entering the promised land.  

Certainly there are other ways of meditating on this season of Lent, but I found this particular comparison as beautiful and insightful.   It reminds me of Blessed (soon to be saint) Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body.  Unfortunately, I haven't yet read JPII's addresses themselves (at least, not many), but I have been working my way through Christopher West's summary, Theology of the Body for Beginners, and have found the connection that John Paul makes between the spiritual and biological, the love of God as reflected in the love between husband and wife, as incredibly interesting and compelling.  That will have to be a topic for a future post because I haven't finished the book yet, but it's pretty cool anyway.

I've been working on multiple posts simultaneously, which seems to slow down the process of finishing them.  I hope to get a few others done before the end of spring break, but I don't know how much time I'll actually have...  Either way, have a wonderful Friday!

Here are several pretty good videos that I have stumbled upon tackling how we need to approach Lent - from all sorts of directions.  The first three are especially fantastic!  Enjoy!

Scott Hahn - Looking at Lent from the Old Testament to today, the deep scriptural roots of this period of conversion and mercy (both of which require us to rely on God).

Fr. Robert Barron - Tips on deepening and giving true meaning to our prayer, fasting, and almsgiving this Lent.

Fr. Michael Gaitley, MIC - Pick specific ways to pray, fast, and give during lent, and go through Lent with Mary!

Fr. Pontifex - On the utmost importance of prayer.

Today at the campus-wide Ash Wednesday Mass at Marian, Fr. Joe gave an enthusiastic homily exhorting everyone to remember their Christian vocation of being "ambassadors for Christ" (from the second reading, II Corinthians 5:20-6:2).  He noted that in our day and age we tend to forget this basic call, this fundamental part of being Christian, and Lent is a chance to "be reconciled to God" (again from St. Paul) "rend[ing] our hearts" (from the first reading, Joel 2:12-18).  

Fr. Joe told the story much better than I have related it here, but I think it still beautifully shows how lent is a time of both internalizing and externalizing the life of Christ, it's about conversion both inside and outside of ourselves.  Fasting, as I explained in that previous post, is about suffering, but it is also about opening ourselves up to Christ.  Alms-giving is about aiding the poor, but it is also about doing all the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.  Prayer is about speaking to God, but it is also about listening, and it is about asking for God's help and mercy for ourselves, but it is also about interceding for others.  In short, Lent is a time to learn to be unselfish - prayer, fasting, alms-giving, they must all lead to our internal growth towards Christ and our external living of that life of Christ.  

The reading from mid-afternoon prayer today, which I ran across shortly after starting this post, tells us to "Atone for your sins by good deeds, and for you misdeeds by kindness to the poor; then your prosperity will be long." [Daniel 4:24]  I happily noted that it succinctly recounted what I was trying to get at in this post, that our atonement (conversion) must entail more than sacrifice, or even sacrifice offered with the correct internal orientation towards Christ, it must lead to us living our lives in such a way that it is obvious to all that we follow Christ.  Today this is easy, everybody can see the smudge of ash that is more-or-less cross-shaped on our foreheads, but tomorrow, and every other day, we must continue to keep this symbol in mind.  Those ashes, like the other penances we undertake during this Lent, must remind us that we are dust and to dust we shall return, and because of this we must constantly strive to redirect our lives towards Christ, and His cross - internally and externally.  Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel!

At Mass this morning, Fr. Joe connected the topic of holiness - found in both the 1st reading and the Gospel - with the focus we should have during Lent.  Even though Lent begins pretty late this year (actually, almost as late as possible), it has still managed to sneak up on me and it wasn't until a few days ago that I actually started thinking about what I'll be doing during this penitential season.  This post won't be so much about what I'm doing for Lent (that is still being determined), but just some comments/ideas about this season in general and things that I'll be keeping in mind over the next several weeks.

Fr. Joe made the simple point this morning that our sacrifice shouldn't be the focus of Lent.  Of course, the Church calls us especially during Lent to do prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, but this can't become the focus of Lent - they can't be the goal in themselves.  I know that for myself I often think that the bigger the penance I do, or the more prayers I say, or something, the holier I will be, but the thing is that we can't become so distracted by our external sacrifices, as good as they may be, that we forget that the point of Lent is to grow in holiness, to become more like Christ.  As, Scott Hahn explains, the point of our sacrifices must "indicate a deep, interior conversion."  In other words, the goal isn't to do some awesome sacrifice, or spend hours in prayer each day, the point is to become less attached to things that are distracting us from God, and by doing that become closer united with Him and His plan for us.  A new blog that I found the other day called "The Catholic Gentleman" (which seems pretty good after a quick skimming) says about penance that "When we talk about penance, we usually think of doing things, and that is indeed part of it. But our actions will be dead, and in fact harmful, if they are not preceded by an interior conversion of heart. Penance, then, is nothing more than an interior contrition of heart displayed through outward actions.  True penance flows from love for God and a recognition of the seriousness of sin"

Father gave some tips on how specifically to do this.  If you, for instance, gives up snacking, or smoking, or watching tv, instead of just glaring at the clock and thinking about how hungry, or bored, you are, go spend those 5 minutes in the chapel, reading Scripture, helping a neighbor, or cleaning the house -  something that actively brings you closer to Christ.  Basically, don't just give something up for the sake of punishing yourself; fill that opening you have made in your life with something that you want there.  Conversion involves both removing those things in us that take us away from God (certainly sins, but also other types of distractions or desires) as well as replacing those things with activities that do.  

Pope Francis talks about in his Lenten address in a beautiful way as us becoming poor.  Pope Francis has put a huge emphasis during his papacy on caring for and loving the poor, but here he takes the analogy and says that we all must become poor.  Not, of course, in the sense that one must go live on the street or beg for food or something, but becoming poor so that Christ can fill us.  The Pope quotes from St. Paul who says that "though he [Christ] was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich." [2 Corinthians 8:9]  The fact is that when we are rich of the things of this life we don't have room for the things of the next life.  When our hearts are consumed by earthly pleasures, possessions, activities, and other things we don't have room for Christ, and without Christ there is no way for us to experience conversion.

Conversion, as I have been explaining, has the dichotomy of having to give things up so that we can be filled with better things, but it also has the dichotomy of us giving up control and letting God work on us.  We can't fix ourselves on our own.  Scott Hahn goes this direction in the second half of his article; during Lent we need to learn to rely on God's mercy. I know for myself, I want to do things on my own, fix my own problems, conquer the world with my own abilities, but while this mentality works fine in man areas of life, it doesn't work in the spiritual life.  There is no such thing as DIY salvation!  Becoming holy means allowing God to transform you.  This is one of the things that Pope Francis was trying to tell us: we have to become poor, we have to learn to rely on God, in order for Lent to truly transform us.  We can fast as much as we want, but spiritual growth means more than having the will-power to skip that meal or not indulge in ice-cream.  

There are many miracles in the New Testament that show Jesus healing or raising people who are sick, lame, blind, or even dead.  The thing is that they couldn't fix themselves on their own.  The story that comes to mind is the woman who had been bleeding for 12 years, going to many doctors who could never heal her, but she is healed just by reaching out and touching Jesus. [Mark 5:26-29]  I remember listening to a talk by Venerable Bishop Fulton Sheen when he said we are like broken pots [found it!] and can only be fixed by the potter (God).  Furthermore, we can only hold the life of Christ, grace, inside of ourselves when our pot doesn't leak, and we can't fix our own pot!  (Bishop Sheen makes many other points from this analogy, but I'm content with just this one.) 

Alright, so I know that I could keep finding other sources to quote from, but instead, I'll just recap:  Sacrifice is essential during Lent - praying, fasting, and alms-giving - but these outward actions must stem from, indicate, and further increase our internal conversion of heart.  The difficulty of penance or how much time we spend on it isn't the most important aspect of Lent, rather the opening of ourselves up to God (and then others, which is where the rest of Pope Francis's letter goes) and working with His transforming grace so that we are made more and more like Christ is.  Good luck!  Don't be glum like the pharisees, that misses the whole point.

In other news: Posts have been pretty sporadic lately because I have been really busy - partly because we are in the midst of midterms - here's hoping that I can get some more up eventually.  Next week is spring break!

Happy Easter everyone!  I didn't manage to get anything up here during the Triduum, so this will be the first post about these last few days.  I hope you all had a wonderful Holy Week, Triduum, Easter, and now Easter Week - I sure have/am.

Holy Thursday:

I already posted on the Chrism Mass, which for the diocese of Springfield, IL, was celebrated on Tuesday.  On Wednesday, I don't remember anything special happening (though I was tired) on Wednesday, and the first half of Thursday was also pretty normal (went for a run, packed the car in record time, went to sociology class, finished a paper and uploaded it for theology, went to ethics class...).  I left directly after that class (thankfully Music class was canceled , filled up with gas, and cruised the 5 hours home non-stop.  Yep, it was pretty long, but I had some good Cd's to listen to, and the weather was spectacular (sunny and 50 degrees).  Anyway, the drive went by fast enough and I got to Quincy just in time (2-3 minutes before) the 6 PM Mass of the Lord's Supper at St. Rose.

St. Rose, in case you don't know, is a chaplaincy of the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter, and has Mass in the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (the Traditional Latin Mass).  A deacon came over from their  (the FSSP's) seminary near Lincoln Nebraska, to help with the different liturgies of the Triduum, and, thus, the Mass on Holy Thursday was a solemn high Mass (with Sub-Deacon, Deacon, and Priest).  It turned out beautifully, with the chanted Gospel, the washing of the feet (while the choir chanted antiphons most of which were from John 13 - "Love one another, as I have loved you..." [diligatis invicem, sicut dilexi vos])  Mass concluded with the procession carrying the Eucharist to the altar of repose and the stripping of the altars.  We (the family) went back home after Mass, ate some dinner, and then came back to "watch with [Jesus] one hour" (Matthew 26:40).

I guess, technically, we were there for more like 3 hours (we went over sometime during 9 o'clock), but I was pretty tired (5 hours of driving does that to you), and so the "watch and pray" (Matthew 26:41) was sometimes a little lacking.  At least I'm not the first person to fall asleep on Holy Thursday...  I think that I finished reading the Gospel of John (I started the New Testament at the beginning of the year and have been working on it a little bit each day), read several pages of Pope Benedict's Jesus of Nazareth Part 1 (which is pretty deep, and thus, not good reading when you are tired), and, of course, said the Rosary and some other prayers.

More later...

For now: Luke 22:39-46:

And he came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him.  And when he came to the place, he said to them, "Pray that you may not enter into temptation."  And he withdrew from them about a stone's throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me.  Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done." And there appeared to him an angel from heaven strengthening him.  And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.  And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping fro sorrow, and he said to them, "Why are you sleeping?  Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation."  

Really great image of Christ's Agony in the Garden

Last week, while on spring break, I had the chance to serve stations of the cross at St. Rose.  Since I was pulled in at the last minute, I was volunteered to carry the crucifix.  Getting to the point, our crucifix at St. Rose, while beautiful, is pretty heavy.  That combined with the fact that I had run directly beforehand (the kind of "beforehand" in which you are still sweating when you get to church after taking a shower) meant that my legs, back, and arms were all tired at different points during the devotion.  When we first got started, it was my legs.  While processing up to the altar I could feel that they were pretty sore/tired/weak.  However, by about station number 2 (Jesus accepts His cross) my legs were all but forgotten because a knot had formed in the middle of my back.  Of course I couldn't reach, or bend, or twist my back, so the knot just  sort of "settled" deeper, going from a biting, sharp, pain to a dull, throbbing soreness.  By about station 7 (Jesus falls the second time), I found that if I didn't try to straighten out my back the pain was tolerable.  Of course, a few stations later, in this case station 11 (Jesus is nailed to the cross), or so, my "problems" shifted to my arms.  It wasn't so much the pain, I mean my arms were pretty sore, I could feel the lactic acid building up in my muscles, but they were starting to get shaky and wobbly, and gravity seemed to get heavier and it took more effort to hold the crucifix off the floor.

Now, please don't feel any pity for my "pains" from serving stations; I don't think it knocked years off my life or anything, and the point of that long story was to get to the subject of stations, Jesus' suffering and death.  Stations of the cross have a way of poignantly bringing me "into" Lent.  I start to glimpse the immense, incredible, terrible suffering that Our Lord had to undergo to redeem mankind from their sins.  We do stations at Brute on Fridays, as I'm sure many parishes do, and on one Friday evening during the ride over to Marian to eat some of their interesting fried fish (a topic for a different day) one of the guys noted that praying stations of the cross mad him feel terrible.  Now, I'm not going to advocate that one should always think of themselves as terrible, but I think that in this case it is very much justified.  We literally, by sinning against God, needed a sacrifice of infinite value, of eternal applicability, of divine nature, to ransom us.  Our sins, because they are against an infinite God, who created us out of infinite love, are too big for us to make up for.  Thus, Jesus came to earth, became a man while remaining God, and died a horrible death as reparation for our sins.  He took the blame for our sins, He took the stain of our offences against God upon His spotlessness, He took upon Himself even death to fully redeem us.  He literally let us kill Him.  Yeah, we should feel terrible...  And that is exactly the feeling the stations brings out in me.  It deepens my love for Jesus through meditation on His infinite love.  


The 3rd, 7th, and 9th station are Jesus falling three times.  Imagine falling while carrying the cross:  Jesus has been humiliated, beaten till he was barely left alive, and sentenced to a horrible death.  Then a extremely heavy cross was thrown on top of him and he was told to carry it a few miles through the twisting streets of Jerusalem and up to Golgotha   Now, I just ran 3 miles - it wasn't twisty, I wasn't bleeding, or carrying the cross - and I still was hurting at the end.  Why would you, as a criminal sentenced to death, get up when you fell under the cross.  What are they going to threaten you with? Death?  Jesus got up, heaved the cross back onto His soldiers, and continued on - for me, for you, for humanity - for love of His creation.  Think about it folks - that's the love of God.

We have a day of recollection for the next day or so, so I won't be blogging.  Pray for me; I'll pray for all of you.  Have a wonderful, blessed, sanctifying, last week of Lent.

It has just been announced that Pope Francis, instead of celebrating the start of the Triduum, the Mass of the Lord's Supper (Holy Thursday), at St. Peter's Basilica, will continue a practice he began as bishop in Buenos Aires and celebrate it at a prison.  In this case, the pope will wash the feet of twelve of the inmates at Casal del Marmo, a juvenile prison in Rome.  

I think his tweet (from Tuesday  gives us the reason for this.  

Pope Francis, I believe, is taking the virtue of humility, seen so clearly in his predecessors, John Paul, who let the world watch the young, vibrant, athlete slowly succumb to Parkinson's disease, and Benedict, who acknowledged to the world that he wasn't strong enough, to a new height.  This humility, as all virtues must be, is motivated by love, by charity.  Obviously, the perfect example of humility is Our Lord, who became one of his creation, and why did Jesus do this?  Love.  Pray for Pope Francis that he can continue to show the world what it means to be a disciple of Christ, through his example.  I can't help but notice that Pope Francis is taking St. Francis's words "Preach the gospel at all times - If necessary, use words" to heart.  As Christians, we must always be conscious of the example we are giving to others.  Are we acting like Christ?  The slogan "What would Jesus Do?" is kind of laughed at, but that is exactly how we need to live - like Our Lord.  Keep up the good Lent!

Sources:

http://www.whispersintheloggia.blogspot.com/

http://www.news.va/en/news/pope-francis-to-celebrate-holy-thursday-mass-at-ju

https://twitter.com/pontifex

Yesterday, while praying morning prayer, I began to really think about and pray the intercessions contained within that hour of the divine office.  The intercessions come after the hymn, psalmody, reading, and canticle, and they only have the Our Father and closing prayer after them.  Usually this means that I am rushing through them, because I'm in a hurry, or have lost my concentration at this point, or something.  Basically, for one reason or another, I never have really concentrated on them.  Well, yesterday I did, and I was happily surprised (go figure) that they are quite beautiful when you really pray them. 

 

Intercessions - Morning Prayer - Wednesday, fourth week of Lent (3/13/13):

 

Let us give thanks to God, our Father: through the power of the Spirit he purifies our hearts and strengthens us in love. Let us humbly ask him:

Lord, give us your Holy Spirit.

 

I always am taking for granted everything that God has given to me.  He gives us His mercy and love so that we can be made clean, purified, for His greater glory, for our salvation, and that we may more strongly proclaim His love to those around us.

Help us to receive good things from your bounty with a deep sense of gratitude,

– and to accept with patience the evil that comes to us.

Lord, give us your Holy Spirit.

 

Again, I just never actually take the time to tell God the obvious:  Thank You for Your many gifts; Help me to rely on You in the tough times, and carry my crosses with Your love, patience, and fortitude. 

Teach us to be loving not only in great and exceptional moments,

– but above all in the ordinary events of daily life.

Lord, give us your Holy Spirit.

 

Yep, love is everything because God is love.  He needs to be in every part of our lives - every where, every time, every opportunity...

May we abstain from what we do not really need,

– and help our brothers and sisters in distress.

Lord, give us your Holy Spirit.

 

Sacrifices in Lent can't stop at us just not eating that donut, or watching that show - they need to directly (and indirectly) show themselves in love.  Lent is for getting closer to God - becoming more like Him.  Since God is love (see previous thought), Lent needs to make us more loving.  If skipping that donut makes us less loving, we need to find something else to skip.

May we bear the wounds of your Son,

– for through his body he gave us life.

Lord, give us your Holy Spirit.

 

See above about carrying crosses...  Through Christ's death, Heaven was opened for us, and only through our own death (both through death to self and this world, and death literally) can we take Christ up on the most magnificent gift that has ever been given. 

 

As you can probably see, I have been seriously undervaluing these intercessions.  I find myself all the time seeing little things (parts of the Mass, or mysteries of the rosary, or stations of the cross, etc.) that I have never seen or realized before.  There is so much depth, beauty, and profundity to Catholic faith, liturgy, devotions, prayers, etc.; we just have to look for it.

 

 

There was a really great reading on the connection between prayer, fasting, and mercy by St. Peter Chrysologus for the Office of Readings today.  It combines the gospel of today, in which Jesus tells us to forgive 77 times, with the prayer and fasting that we should be doing in Lent.  Enjoy!  (In bold is the most important stuff if you are pressed for time.)

Second reading

There are three things, my brethren, by which faith stands firm, devotion remains constant, and virtue endures. They are prayer, fasting and mercy. Prayer knocks at the door, fasting obtains, mercy receives. Prayer, mercy and fasting: these three are one, and they give life to each other.

Fasting is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. Let no one try to separate them; they cannot be separated. If you have only one of them or not all together, you have nothing. So if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to others you open God’s ear to yourself.

When you fast, see the fasting of others. If you want God to know that you are hungry, know that another is hungry. If you hope for mercy, show mercy. If you look for kindness, show kindness. If you want to receive, give. If you ask for yourself what you deny to others, your asking is a mockery.

Let this be the pattern for all men when they practice mercy: show mercy to others in the same way, with the same generosity, with the same promptness, as you want others to show mercy to you.

Therefore, let prayer, mercy and fasting be one single plea to God on our behalf, one speech in our defense, a threefold united prayer in our favor.

Let us use fasting to make up for what we have lost by despising others. Let us offer our souls in sacrifice by means of fasting. There is nothing more pleasing that we can offer to God, as the psalmist said in prophecy:A sacrifice to God is a broken spirit; God does not despise a bruised and humbled heart.

Offer your soul to God, make him an oblation of your fasting, so that your soul may be a pure offering, a holy sacrifice, a living victim, remaining your own and at the same time made over to God. Whoever fails to give this to God will not be excused, for if you are to give him yourself you are never without the means of giving.

To make these acceptable, mercy must be added. Fasting bears no fruit unless it is watered by mercy. Fasting dries up when mercy dries up. Mercy is to fasting as rain is to the earth. However much you may cultivate your heart, clear the soil of your nature, root out vices, sow virtues, if you do not release the springs of mercy, your fasting will bear no fruit.

When you fast, if your mercy is thin your harvest will be thin; when you fast, what you pour out in mercy overflows into your barn. Therefore, do not lose by saving, but gather in by scattering. Give to the poor, and you give to yourself. You will not be allowed to keep what you have refused to give to others.

Today, for the first time in a long while, I went for a run.  The weather was chilly (40 degrees), but it was sunny, there wasn't much wind, and once we (I went with another guy) got going, it was perfect.  We probably ran about 4 miles at around an 8 minute/mile pace - I felt really good considering that I haven't really exercised this semester.  In fact, it looks really likely that a few of the guys here at Brute will be running a half-marathon near the end of the semester (May 4th).  I can probably count on one hand the number of times where I've walked that distance in one day, so it should be interesting to say the least.  I don't think I've ever run a third of that distance (without stopping), so it will be really interesting...  At least I'll stay in shape and hopefully have some fun doing it.

Pikes Peak Marathon - yeah, they run up pikes peak...

OK, now onto the point I really wanted to make:  Today for evening prayer was the reading from Paul's first letter to the Corinthians (9:24:25) - "While all the runners in the stadium take part in the race, the award goes to one man.  In that case, run so as to win!  Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things.  They do this to win a crown of leaves that withers, but we a crown that is imperishable."  I thought it was really apropos that the day I started running this reading should pop up, and I thought it applied really well to lent.  We don't sacrifice stuff to show off, or lose weight, or look holy, we sacrifice during this Lenten season to win the race.  To get closer to Christ and to align our lives more closely to his.  

The analogy between this life and running a race is really good.  Sometimes it's cold, sometimes it's hilly, sometimes your thirsty, sometimes you hurt, and sometimes your shoe comes untied.  On the other hand, sometimes the weather is gorgeous, you have somebody to run with, it's not hilly, and you're not in pain.  Regardless of the conditions, though, if you want to win the crown, you have to keep running; you have to get up when you fall, you have to always keep pushing yourself, you have to stay positive, and you sometimes have to deny yourself stuff.  Want to be a good runner?  Don't eat a ton of desserts.  Want to become a saint in heaven?  Don't eat the same desserts for love of God.  

God gives us the ability to super-naturalize just about anything by doing it (or not doing it) for love of Him.  When God became man, the gap between heaven and earth was bridged, and that means that, through the merits of Christ, we can make it there.  But, just because there's a bridge doesn't mean we don't have to walk across it.  Jesus invites us to come to the wedding feast, but he doesn't force us to come.  We have to choose to accept Jesus' invitation to Heaven, and that means that our life, like Christ's, won't always be easy.  The wind is sometimes going to be against us, the hills are sometimes going to be steep, people aren't always going to support us, but we have to keep running.

Ever since I entered seminary, I have found that I have been "stretching myself" in the (good) sense of growing and pushing my comfort zone.  Well, this morning I had yet another chance to do this.

 

One of the guys couldn't be here today, and since it was his day to lead the divine office, he asked me to fill in for him.  Of course, I said sure, and then remembered that I hadn't ever done it before.  (I think I did morning prayer one time in the context of Mass where it is a bit simpler).  Anyway, so this morning, since it is Sunday, we do morning prayer before Mass, so I had to get up in front of everybody (gulp), and lead the angelus (I'm glad I had a card) the opening hymn (thankfully I knew it), the psalms (easy), the canticle (chanted), the Our Father (not hard), and whatever parts I forgot to mention (all in all pretty nervous 10 minutes).  I pulled it off, didn't wreck the chanting, didn't miss anything, and feel much better about doing it in the future.

 

Of course, that wasn't the end of my morning.  This was also the first time I have cantored on Sunday.  I guess it's kind of ironic that the guy in charge of the cantors hasn't done Sunday Mass yet, but I just wasn't scheduled to do it last semester.  On a typical weekday all you have to do as a cantor is start the opening hymn and sing the Alleluia (Praise to You Lord Jesus Christ Kind of endless glory in lent) with the gospel acclimation - in other words, typically not hard.  However, this Sunday I had to do the opening hymn (thankfully, with the organ because I didn't really know the song), and then the dreaded Responsorial Psalm.  This is what I was really worried about; you all know the drill, the cantor chants/sings the responsorial and the congregation follows and then the cantor moves on by chanting/singing the verses, for lack of a better word, of the psalm.  It is totally a-capella, ie: no organ, so I had to learn (and remember!) how to do the chanting.  Of course, looking back it was pretty simple, but at the time I was pretty nervous.  Well, Mass wasn't over yet, but it was all reasonably easy from there on.  The schola did the song at the offertory and the hymn during Communion, so that was easy.  I did have to do the sanctus, mysterium fidei, and agnus dei, but other than these being in Latin they were pretty simple (I again had the organ, so that helped).  Then it was just the closing hymn and I was done. 

 

Dreading would be too strong of a word to describe how I was feeling about this morning, but I definitely was nervous.  Thankfully, each time I do a new thing (and thank goodness don't mess it up) gives me more experience and greater confidence in the future.  Great times!

Here's the video of the Bruté Schola singing Attende Domine. It turned out really nice and the audio on the camera was good to boot - great morning!  Have a great lent folks!