Open Wide the Doors for Christ!

I don't know about you, but I often have grandoise, or at least ambitious, plans to do these great things and change myself, the world, or whatever, for the better.  For instance, I was a bit disapointed in myself this past semester because I got really busy with a lot of (great) things and didn't have as much time as I wanted for other (greater) things, like reading those books outside of class, or visiting those churches around Rome that I haven't seen yet, or creating videos around the Eternal City, etc.  So, I've been thinking about next semester and trying to plan on making room for those things.  I want to spend 2 or 3 hours each afternoon reading/studying, at least an hour praying, and, more specifically concerned with this blog, I want to spend more time blogging, like, 30 minutes every day or something.  Problem: I didn't have that much time last semester, and I don't think I'll suddenly have an extra couple hours each day to devote to these, and other, projects, this semester.  It's disheartening!  I want to do so much and then I not only don't get those things done, but I fall down in so many other ways as well!  

So right now I'm actually in Krakow, Poland for something called the Tertio Millennia Seminar, where myself and about 34 (ok, exactly 34) other students from around the US and Eastern Europe are studying the history behind, life of, writings/teachings of, and impact of St. John Paul II.  It's absolutly amazing, not only to be studying in such a cool place, under such great professors (George Weigel, the guy who wrote that thousand-page biography of JPII, is one of them), and in a program instigated by JPII, but all those factors combined with the lucidity, power, applicability, and impactfulness of the teachings of our late, great, pope, and the fact that he's one of my personal favorite saints, is just amazing.  

Long story short, that actually has to do with my complaint in the first paragraph.  Something I've realized over the past year is that I have a streak of a perfectionism, or maybe just over-achieverism (is that a word?  yeah, probably not...) in me, and so when I see a great saint I want to be like them.  Now, obviously, I know that we're all called to a specific time and place, with specific talents, abilities, graces, and history, all of which God directs at an individual vocation, but I still want to be a saint (that's kind of the whole point of being created in the first point).  And so, when I hear that JPII prayed for 6 hours a day (and brought down Soviet communism), or John Vianney lived on a potato a day (and spent 18 hours in the confessional), or Mother Theresa was an absolute beacon of joy while in the midst of great interior darkness (and opened like 500 centers during her life time to care for the poor/ill), I want to be like that.  Saints are just super inspirational, and I get all fired up to live the faith like they did ... and then I fail to even get close.  I don't get even my holy hour in every day, I struggle to pass up one invitation to go get ice cream, and when I get distracted in prayer I give up so quickly and don't even try to give my attention to God.  

Thankfully, there's an answer in our greatest model, Jesus Christ.  Now wait, you say, He is God and man, absolutely perfect, absolute love, how could He possibly be a easier example to follow?  Isn't following Him shooting even higher and doomed to even greater failure?  You think JPII prayed, look at the example that Christ gives in the Agony (and so many other times)!  You think that the Cure of Ars sacrificed, look at calvary (or just Our Lord's life in general)!  You think Mother Theresa's prayer life was dry, listen to the cry of anguish on the cross - "My God, My God, why have you abandoned me" - as Our Lord is burdened beneath the wretchedness of all our sins.  And this is a valid complaint, there is no way we can "match" Christ in his generosity, mercy, humility, obedience, sacrificial love, prayer, or anything.  Yet He still tells us to "be perfect as Your heavenly Father is perfect."  Aren't we doomed to failure?  

No, we're not!  Look to Christ, look to those saints, what did they do?  They were perfect, just as God is, in giving their all.  JPII had the grace to be able to pray for long periods of time, inspire people with his words, and not sleep much, and so He gave that time and ability to God.  Vianney was given the physical endurance to fast constantly, yet minister so completely to so many penitents who flocked to them.  Bl. Theresa of Calcutta was given the strength to carry on, in joy, in the midst of great trial and distress.  All these saints though - and this is the big point - weren't completely, divinely, perfect, they were perfect in as much as they gave everything - their weakness and their strengths - totally back to God, totally in His service.  Saints aren't people who don't have weaknesses, they are those who allow God to fill their weaknesses with His grace.  

These thoughts were running through my head as I knelt in Adoration in the Church of St. Florian here in Krakow (Fr. Wojtyla's first parish after his ordination), and I was very grateful to Our Lord for inspiring me as I gazed at the crucifix, not only with this idea of the weakness of the saints, but also of the weakness of Himself on calvary.  Jesus must have wanted to give so much more on the cross, yet He couldn't, He was physically limited in how much torture he could endure.  Why was He "only" on the cross for 6 hours or so - Pilate himself was surprised when he found out that Our Lord had died so quickly - couldn't he have shown His love in an even more astounding way by even greater sufferings?  Now, don't think I'm saying that Our Lord's sacrifice was inadequate, or that it wasn't one of the most brutal, painful, deaths in the history of the world, His incarnation alone was more than enough to save all of us, but, Christ is all love, and He chose the passion to show that love to us in a most raw and amazing way, and yet He falls on the way to calvary, He cries out in the midst of that anguish, He dies after "only" several hours (some crucified persons suffered for days).  Why?  He was willing to be weak before God, and before us.  He was "humble to the point of death, death on a cross."

This is the essence of sanctity, not to be good enough to do incredible things, but to be humble enough to let God do those incredible things.  JPII, John Vianney, Mother Theresa - these weren't super-humans, they were supernaturalized-humans.  It isn't as if really strong people can live on a potato a day, or shear determination could get somebody through a holy-six-hours, or if you were tough enough then total darkness in the spiritual life doesn't effect you.  No!  It was precisely, and only, in the fact that they relied on God completely, not themselves, that they could do those amazing things, and the same is true of us.  God calls us to give Him everything, and let Him do the rest.  That's true humility, and that is what transforms the world and our own lives.  It was humble, loving, obedience that was asked of Adam and Eve, and they failed, and it was through humble, loving, obedience that Christ came into the world and then saved the world.  We are called to that same perfection, that same awesome vocation, that same fired-up, passionate, sanctity, that same completely self-giving humility, absolute abandonment to love, and filial obedience that we see in the saints (always modeled on Christ Himself) and we, like them, are given the specific graces needed in our lives, our situations, our vocations, to live up to that.  

Don't be discouraged by great examples of holiness: Fall down? Get back up.  Feel weak? Give that to the Lord.  Think you can't change the world?  Take a glance at the coal miner oppressed under the soviet regime (Karol Wojtyla), or the seminarian who couldn't understand theological terminology (John Vianney), or the tiny sister from Albania who is shocked at the poverty of Calcutta (Sr. Theresa).  These individuals didn't expect to change the world, but they were willing to let God do that through them, and so He did.  He wants to do the same through you!

Sunrise in Washington DC

Wednesday morning dawned cold and sunny.  The alarm went off at 7:00 AM which, based on the fact that I didn't roll out of bed until 7:30, was too early.  Myself and the other guys from the Springfield diocese were going over to serve Mass with the contingent of people from our diocese at 10:00 AM (unlike the other Brute guys, who were celebrating Mass together elsewhere), so I had to pack up my things quickly in order to make it downstairs and catch the hotel shuttle to the metro station.  It was a short (10 minute) drive to the metro station, but the train ride down to Metro Center (the station we needed to get to) was quite a bit longer.  I took the same ride on the previous day and it didn't seem all that long, but this time we were pressured by the clock, so the ride seemed to take forever.  We finally reached that terminal around 9:30, quite a bit later than we had planned, and raced over to the next train which would take us over to the Capital South stop, from which the church was only a short walk. Around this time we happened to run into Fr. Hyland Smith, who was ordained last year for our diocese, and who was trying to get on the same train that we were.  Of course, since we were in a hurry, as soon as the train entered the station it promptly broke down.  We had to wait several more minutes for them to remove the, now broken, train and then wait for the next one to arrive.  By the time we reached Capital South, it was already 10:00, but thankfully the Mass had waited for us (or probably more precisely, Fr. Smith).

Bishop Paprocki talking with the pilgrims after Mass

I quickly threw on my cassock and surplice and walked back into the sacristy, where I said hello to the Bishop and then got ready for Mass.  Cody and I served while the other guys sat in choir (because we didn't need 7 servers).  St. Peter's was packed with young people from our diocese, all having endured a long bus ride from home, and it added, kind of like the Mass at the Basilica, some awesomeness to have all those people present.  Bishop Paprocki reiterated the necessity to stand up against the evil of abortion, how we must show our opposition to it by marching down the cold streets of Washington DC.  Unfortunately, I couldn't track down a transcript of the homily, so that is all I remember.  (That's one thing I dislike about having to do something at Mass, it's hard to pay attention.)  Mass went well, as you might expect, and though it wasn't quite as spectacular as Mass the night before at the Basilica, it was still profound and beautiful.

Crucifix in St. Peter's Church

After Mass, we changed into our warm clothes and grabbed a bite to eat, before walking with the Springfield group (including the bishop) down to the national mall.  It was a short walk, maybe a mile, right down past the capital (on the opposite side from where we would be walking up later during the March for Life).  Though we were all bundled up, it only took a block or two for me to notice that it was really cold out.  One of the other guys checked on his phone and it was a whopping 12 degrees out.  The wind was also in full force and though I was pretty well covered up, my face, which was exposed, quickly started to feel the brunt of the cold.  We eventually split off from the Springfield group and headed over to where the guys from Brute were collecting.  I was going to meet a friend from the Quincy area who is a brother in the Fathers of Mercy, but unfortunately, I didn't have the time to look around amongst the hundreds of thousands of people for his group and was otherwise unable to get in touch with him.  Anyway, we were probably standing there for half an hour while the last few speeches ended (unfortunately, I wasn't paying very good attention, so I don't remember all of what was said), and then the march started. We were about half way back in the crowd at the national mall, but we didn't get into the 'wave' of people very quickly, so we ended up being near the back of the march.

Crowds before the March

The march begins!

This year, unlike in 2013, Brute had our own banner, so we all grouped around it while trying to merge with the slowly moving crowd.  Everybody was shuffling along slowly, so this process took a while, but it turned out just fine because the slow-up meant that I was surprised to run into my aunt/uncle/cousins again.  I was able to talk with them for a few minutes while the crowd was moving slowly, but, as things finally started moving we got squeezed apart.  As our group curved up towards the capital building, we sang several hymns and prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet, a devotion that so poignantly expresses what the March is about.  Not only are we protesting, politically, against abortion, we are also doing reparation for this evil and begging Our Lord to have mercy on us and our country.  It was, as in previous years, incredible to see all the young people, stretching in every direction, marching against abortion.  Words can't quite do the experience justice, so I'll have to hope that the pictures included here give you some idea of how impressive it was.

The masses marching towards the Capital building

All of us from Brute after the March

Anyway, the group of us seminarians from Brute (along with Fr. Bob) actually curved off of the march before getting all the way up to the Supreme Court.  We turned left as we were going up past the Capital building (instead of continuing all the way up) so that we could get down to Union Station more quickly (and not have to work against the crowd to get there).  It was packed with people who had just finished the march, so it was still a challenge to find and board our train back to where the vans were parked.  I managed to take a short nap on the metro (and finish thawing out) as we sped back to the Shady Grove station, which was wonderful.  We all trickled back to the vans around 4 PM and shortly afterwards started the long drive back to Indianapolis.  We stopped at a place called Cici's pizza on the way home, a buffet-style restaurant that churns out different types of pizza every few minutes.  It was tasty, fast, and cheap, all factors that made it ideal for 50 hungry seminarians.  I spent almost the entire trip back working on homework (except for the times when we were listening to different Catholic talks), though I did fall asleep for maybe an hour during the last stretch of the drive (around 2 AM).  The weather was bad for part of the trip, but thankfully we made it back safely around 4 AM.  Sorry, I don't have anything particularly exquisite to say, it was a fantastic trip, inspiring as always, and something that I will probably miss greatly next year.

Here's a video of bits of the March - actually some of the group from Springfield makes an appearance!

Well folks, I've fallen behind again.  I was intending to write up a post about what happened on Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday, but unfortunately I haven't gotten to it yet.  Thus, I'm (for now) cutting my losses and writing something up about the week after Easter: Divine Mercy Sunday.  For now I'm not going to dive into the spiritual aspects of Divine Mercy - perhaps I'll post about that some other time - it certainly is beautiful, important, powerful, and necessary, but I'm sticking with the hum-drum world of seminary here and will save the spiritual side of things for another day.

Mass, if I remember correctly, was pretty typical - you know, heaven on earth, with me struggling to pay attention...  After Mass another one of the guys asked me if I was interested in going to a Eucharistic procession at St. John's (a beautiful, vibrant parish in downtown Indianapolis).  I was trying to figure out a way to do something special for the feast, and it was looking less likely that I would make it to anywhere else at 3:00, so I jumped on the opportunity and headed downtown.  It took a few laps around the block to find a place to park because we were looking for the place that has $2 parking (versus $6+ elsewhere).  Eventually we found it, parked, and headed down to the street that St. John's was on.  As we headed down the stairs we heard loud music playing (from a rock band) and a huge inflatable dog.  As we began to march through the crowd, and the hundreds of dogs, it hit me that there was something other than a Eucharist procession here; we had run into some sort of doggy event.  There was stands selling hot-dogs, pizza, dog biscuits, leashes and everything else associated with canines, right next to St. Johns. Ignoring the hustle and bustle we entered St. Johns and waited for the procession to begin.

Fr. Nagel processed out carrying the monstrance with several altar servers in tow, paused to let 4 young guys (more servers!) to lift the baldachin (canopy thing) over the monstrance and the procession of the many people in church assembled behind.  Once on the sidewalk, a man walking near the front started the Divine Mercy Chaplet (singing) which we all (obviously) prayed along.  We sang some hymns and by then had walked away from the church and were on our way back.  I didn't know if they were going to turn before the church or walk beyond it and run into the dog-walk.  Well, they didn't even flinch, and Father went charging (ok, he kept walking, but he did have to forge a path of sorts) into the crowd.  Briefly the hymn was drowned out by the band that was playing for the dog thingy, and then the congregation got the song going again.  It was a beautiful moment as the dog walkers stepped to the side to watch Our Lord process past.  I don't know if they knew what they were seeing, but they were cordial none-the-less.  Great moment!  Really showed me the power of Christ even in our modern society.

Well folks, this write-up is too long already.  I've been banging out a few sentences every day and now I don't remember what else I wanted to say.  Enjoy the pictures (and video) and have a great Sunday afternoon (we have gorgeous weather here!).

God Bless!