Open Wide the Doors for Christ!

Today during my Holy Hour (actually it was more like a Holy 40-Minutes) I was contemplating the passage after the miraculous catch of fish when it says that "When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him." [Luke 5:11]  I was considering what things in my life that Our Lord was asking that I leave behind - maybe less going out to eat, or less reading during Holy Hours (more meditating), or that extra sleep I took this morning, or spending more time studying, etc.  Basically, I was scrolling through all the things that I saw myself as less-than-stellar in, and I was contemplating how I could offer those things up - letting go whatever was keeping me from following Jesus in those areas.  Obviously, this isn't a bad thing to do, but, in the midst of that thought I found that many of the things I was thinking needed fixing/repenting were centered on time.  Time studying, time praying, times going out to eat, time sleeping, etc.  And I immediately realized that Our Lord was asking for my time, for my quality time.  This - thought I - was a bit harder to offer up.  When you give God your time it means you don't leave anything out, it means that every moment is meant to be offered up, left behind, placed in His hands. It means that you can't just "worry" about certain areas of life that you want - or don't want - to work on; instead, you have to take every moment, see it as God's will that you're in such-and-such a situation, and do your best for Him.  

When I'm in class - tired, bored, not getting it - that isn't the time to say "Lord, I offer my life up to you."  This sounds great, but it doesn't necessarily have practical consequences right then.  However, if during that class I realize I'm not giving it my all, I need to immediately say "Lord, I give You this moment, this struggle, this temptation to drift off, this cross" and push myself to focus.  When I'm sitting on the computer and feel the temptation to spend a couple minutes on Facebook (or whatever), instead of writing that paper, I should immediately pray: "Lord, save me, I'm sinking!" and give those hours to Him.  Hours later, when I've finished what I needed to do and want to check Facebook, that time too I should give to God - allowing Him to sanctify my interactions with others and giving me the grace to spend a correct amount of time online.

Time is one of our most precious possessions, it's the last thing we want to give up, but it is completely a gift from God!  As I was considering the challenge of giving it all back to God - each and every little moment - I wondered [ever keeping in mind my own selfish interests...] "what do I get from giving this all to You?"  The answer was immediate: "Everything"  When we go "all in", placing all our chips - all our time - on the table - into doing God's will, He repays back 100-fold.  God goes "all in" along with us, not only making up for our feeble attempts with His grace (grace builds on nature!), but rewarding us with His eternal life, and love, and strength, and grace, and eternity, and victory over sin, and His very self.  

Recently - having gone to Lisieux over Christmas break - I have been reading The Story of a Soul by St. Therese of the Child Jesus, and this idea of surrendering all our moments is  a big part of her "little way".  Often her writings are somewhat trivialized and we think that this strategy for holiness is soft, or easy, or cute, or simplistic.  Nope!  The "little way" means humbly recognizing that our own efforts are ridiculously tiny, unimportant, even broken, compared to God (hence the "little"), but that despite this, He, in His immense love, still wants us to give those efforts to Him and allow Him to fill those moments - of work, of suffering, of temptations - with His love and grace (that would be the "way").  Certainly, that realization - that Holy Hour when you think that it'd be a good idea to offer every moment up to God (me this afternoon) - is easy, but reality hits pretty quickly once you try to live it out!  For example, this evening my voice wasn't very strong - for whatever reason - so choir practice was quite the challenge.  Am I willing to stay cheerful, keep trying, and patiently offer up that n^th time we repeat a particularly challenging piece of music - seeing it all as God's will and giving it my best go?  Another example: my computer died a couple months ago and being the cheapskate that I am, I haven't bought a new one yet.  So, when guys come loudly-chatting into the computer room where I'm trying to work with one of the NAC computers, or when the printer jams, again, or when the computer can't seem to handle a few browser tabs open at the same time, or when I'm not getting anywhere on that paper.  In that struggle am I willing to surrender the minute, and hour, and afternoon, to God and greet those guys with a smile, fix the printer for everybody else, say a prayer while waiting for the computer to get going, and joyfully keep plugging along on that paper?  What about when I feel like I'm coming down with a cold (or worse?) and dread getting up early tomorrow, going to class, and soccer practice?  Can I offer those moments up too?  Can I offer up the idea of feeling even worse tomorrow?  Can I allow Jesus to see my poor fishing abilities, realizing that if I follow Him, He can multiply my catch?  Theresa's little way might be succinct and beautiful, but it isn't easy!

Thankfully, and this is the last thing, God offers us the graces we need in order to faithfully follow Him, to offer everything up to Him.  He became man to show us the way, to - quite literally - struggle with all the same things that we do (well, maybe not slow computers).  When you're struggling, look to Him, ask for His help!  He is infinitely generous not only to those saints who successfully did His will, but also to us less-saintly folks down here struggling to even get up in the morning!  Trust Him, love Him, and throw yourself into whatever task is at hand for His glory!

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!

Today I had the opportunity to catch up with the Junior Legion of Mary group that I had attended (and later acted as president of) for several years.  I didn't want them to think that I had completely forgotten them, and today was their semi-annual pizza party, so I headed over there after work, and hung out for a little while.  The pizza was (very) tasty, the desserts were (as always) excellent, the group was doing well (and growing), a quick game of tag afterwards was hot (and some kids are faster than I remember them).  All-in-all it was a great evening, and it gave me the catalyst to make this post, which I have been meaning to make for a while.

 

As I said, I was a member of the Legion of Mary for several years while growing up.  As a legion member, you meet once a week (the meeting involves praying the rosary, saying the tessera prayers, and reading out of the legion handbook).  The Rosary is, well, the rosary (gets better the more you pray it, by the way), the tessera is a short pamphlet that has the prayers that legionaries say each day, and the hand-book is a (rather in-depth) book on many, many different Catholic devotions, practices, and more hands-on, out-in-the-world, work for Christ, His Church, and His Mother.  The hand-book is not only a fantastic book about how to be a good member of the legion of Mary, but also a great book on how to be a great Catholic and disciple of Our Lord.

 

The Tessera, those prayers that legionaries say each day along with the Rosary, are also a fantastic set or prayers that any Catholic could pray (and get holier).  Here I just include what is called the closing prayer, because that is what has been really jumping out at me lately, but the whole thing (found at above link) is absolutely gorgeous.

 

The Closing Prayer of the Legion of Mary Tessera (pray slowly, letting each word really sink in):

 

 

An excerpt from one of his posts (read the rest at his blog!):

During vacation I have been trying to read Fr. Larry Richards' book, Be a Man!, and while I haven't finished it (yet) I am a few chapters in and the major theme that has hit me is that of martyrdom.  "So the power we get from the Spirit of God is to die to ourselves by bearing witness to Christ... The question then is, are you willing to die every day to witness to Christ?  Will you lay down your life for your wife and for your children?" [page 75]  This is the ultimate challenge, and one that has existed since God first created man.

Genesis 2:15 - "The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.  And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, "you may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.""

Notice the words "work" and "keep".  This doesn't just indicate that Adam was supposed to be a gardener, it also means that he was in charge of protecting and preserving creation.  Here's the deal - Adam was expressly given the mission (the challenge) by God to protect creation - and he didn't.  Where was Adam when Eve is tempted by the serpent?  Genesis 3:6 - "she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate."  Adam was standing next to Eve during the temptation and he says nothing; he fails to protect creation.  God gave Adam this seemingly simple mission and he didn't do it.

This is the same mission we have today - do God's will.  Pretty simple right? (wrong!)  God's sense of humor is evident here - Adam and Eve fell to the temptation to "be like God" because they were prideful and thought they could do whatever they wanted.  Well, now our God-given challenge is exactly that: "be like God".  Of course, this isn't in the selfish way that Adam and Eve envisioned it.  Being like God means picking up our cross and following Jesus Christ up Calvary.  It means death to self and total giving of our lives to God, and thus, others.  Being like God has nothing to do with selfishness - because God isn't selfish; God is love, and love means sacrifice.

So, God has laid down the ultimate challenge for all men: "Come follow me".  There is no way to do this without grace.  There is no way to be that loving, that self-less, that totally available to God without His help.  The challenge is supremely daunting - can you give up everything, to follow Jesus Christ?  Can you love God above everything else (power, money, fame, friends, etc.)?  Writing this post has gotten me thinking about just how far away I am from living this way.

Often I would think that martyrdom, being killed for the faith, would be so much easier - you know, profess the faith, get caught, and a few days later you are a saint...  Obviously, the thing I forgot about was the huge amount of faith these people must have had to get to the point where they gave their life for Christ.  They were dying for Christ everyday, in everything they were doing.  It wasn't just a one time thing, it was their entire lives.

St. Boniface, who's feast day was yesterday, said in one of his letters (found in the Office of Readings for yesterday): "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 is light."  Wait a second, you say, hasn't this whole post been about the challenge of following Christ?  That doesn't sound very "easy" or "light" to me.  Here's the thing: the only way to totally follow Christ (even to martyrdom - like St. Boniface did), is by relying on Him.  We, especially Americans, don't like relying on people.  We want to do it ourselves and have that rugged individualism.  But, this challenge, of totally following Christ, is absolutely impossible if we don't do it His way, if we don't do it with Him.  Adam and Eve tried to do there own thing, they tried to be like God their own way, and look where that got them?  Notice that Jesus says "my yoke", not "your yoke".  Following Him is only possible, and even easy, if we do it His way, not our own.

Well, that's all for now.  Of course there is so much more to this topic, but we are trying to pack everything up and get checked out of the cabin this morning, so I should get going...  Have a good day folks!

Martyrdom of St. Boniface