Showing posts with label God's Will. Show all posts

My Sister's First Profession

Every month or so we have what is called a travel weekend, which is pretty much what it sounds like - everybody is allowed to travel some place around Europe and experience a bit of culture, food, art, history, nature, or whatever, all while building friendships with other men here and having a chance to get away from the bustle and business of Rome.  So far, I have gone on three such trips - the first to San Giovanni Rotundo (we visited the shrine of Padre Pio, Monte San Angelo, and Lanciano), the Amalfi Coast (we saw some beautiful scenery, and also got to pray before the relics of St. Andrew, St. Matthew, St. Benedict, and St. Scholastica), and this last weekend - which is probably going to be the craziest travel weekend in the foreseeable future, when I got to fly back to Alabama and be there when my sister took simple/temporary vows at the Dominican Monastery of St. Jude.  Needless to say, it was an amazing blessing to be back there, but - as seems to usually be the case - it was a whole lot more amazing than even I thought it would be beforehand!

While I was in Assisi I found out the date that my sister would be taking vows - November 22nd, the feast of St. Cecilia - and, of course, I was excited for her, but I knew that it wasn't very likely that I'd be able to be back for it, not only was it a long trip, and in the middle of the semester, but it was also NAC policy that guys don't go home for their first two years here.  However, then I heard of one of the new men who had gotten permission to return home for one of his sibling's wedding.  I didn't know if the same exception would apply to me, but I was certainly not going to pass up at least trying!  So, at my first meeting with my formation advisor - the priest who, you know, advises me as regards my formation (I meet with him once a month, we talk about how things are going - academically, pastorally, humanly, practically, etc. - and he helps to make sure I'm balancing my time/effort well and gives tips/advise/direction as regards any of the problems that could crop up from studying over here) - I asked if there was any way that I could go home for my sister's profession.  He hadn't ever experienced that question, but promised to investigate it with the "powers that be" (the formation staff here at the NAC).  I hadn't heard anything for a couple of weeks, which I tried hard not to interpret as a sign one way or the other, when I had my meeting with Msgr. Checchio.  He met with all the new men during our first month or so here, and, at least in my case, most of the conversation was him asking how things were going, talking about the process of settling in, challenges that I might encounter, and things that I should focus on during this first bit of time here.  It was a great conversation, he is a wonderful rector, but near the end of the conversation I was surprised and excited when he casually mentioned that "I'm glad to hear you'll be able to go home for your sister's profession."  I'm pretty sure my mouth fell open for about a second while I tried to comprehend what he had just said, and then I rattled something out about how great it would be, and he responded with something about loving Dominican nuns and being happy to give me the go-ahead to return for that ceremony.  I, to say the least, was excited!  I got permission from my diocese as well and a couple of days later dropped the news on my family when we were skyping.  They too, were pretty happy (alright, maybe that's an underestimation...), and dad was also really helpful in tracking down a decent deal on the flights that I would need (and would fit around everything).

So, last Thursday (the week before Thanksgiving), I left class at the Gregorian (Christology is that morning) and power-walked over to the bus stop where I had a ticket to Fiumicino.  Of course, because of some uprising/protest/strike, the bus was going to be like 45 minutes late.  I already was pushing it close to get through the airport, so I was starting to get a bit worried when an Italian lady had the bright idea to hire a taxi.  Five of us (myself, the lady, and three other young ladies) found a cab - I got back middle, as always - and off we went.  30 minutes later, nobody having had the guts to start a conversation, we pooled our money, paid the driver, and entered the airport.  I found the desk I needed, they gave me my boarding passes (after a bit of difficulty), and I made my way through security.  Off to Amsterdam!

Pretty cool, no?
In Amsterdam, having not done much except whiling away the hours of waiting/flying with a couple different books and stuff, I eventually boarded my flight to Atlanta and then settled in for the long flight.  As it turned out, I was right next to a couple who were returning from a trip they were taking with their church to the Netherlands.  We had a really nice conversation about Christianity, the priesthood, theology, the church, celibacy, and several other such topics - it was great!  Not awkward, they were very open, and I really enjoyed it.  After a pretty tasty meal (the food was good and they served wine, which was surprising, and enjoyable), I watched Guardians of the Galaxy, which was not only funny and entertaining, but also relatively clean (always nice when you're not constantly wondering at what point you'll have to turn something off).  Then I spent a bit of time in prayer - not the easiest thing in the world in a plane, but being "up there" lent a different feeling to the experience, so that was cool.  I think I watched another movie at some point, and I spent some time reading some different books (Benedict XVI's Jesus of Nazareth, a book on the Pentateuch, Fr. Gaitley's 33 Days to Morning Glory, and probably a couple of other ones).  The hours slid by and before I knew it we were being served dinner (again, pretty good) and only an hour out of Atlanta.  After an uneventful landing, and a bit of walking through the Atlanta airport (and customs...), I found my last gate with an hour or two to wait before boarding.  Being back in America, I decided to find some American cuisine and after debating about whether a certain burger place was going to be worth it, I just went with Chic-fil-A and got my fill of chicken nuggets and fries.  Again, most of the time was past with a bit of reading and some listening to podcasts and whatnot (mainly homilies and other Catholic stuff) - it's funny, I've only been on a plane several times now, but it was already getting pretty usual.  Soon enough we were boarding and then - only like 30 minutes later - I was in Birmingham.  And, 10 minutes later I was elated to see my family at the bottom of the escalators (that I was riding).  It was so good to see them again!  We stayed up late chatting together and then I dropped in bed - some 28 hours after getting up (it was a really long day). 

One month folks!
The next day, Friday, we checked out a couple of things in Birmingham - including the Cathedral (beautiful - it was a lot simpler than the churches over here, but it had stained glass windows, which aren't very often found here) and a museum of art (which had some beautiful pieces - religious and otherwise - though to some extent I have started to take that sort of thing for granted, so it wasn't quite mind-blowing).  Yeah, it was a fun day, just spent hanging out with the family, and that evening we drove over to the monastery and brought our things into the guest house.  After another short night of sleep (which is getting more and more typical) and another banana (which isn't typical over here; they provide plenty of apples, pears, peaches, oranges, plums, and kiwis, but not bananas), my brother and I met with the priest who was going to be saying Mass.  As I was expecting, it was in the Dominican Rite, which was the Roman/Papal Rite of the 1300s (very similar to the Extraordinary Form, with a couple variations), and as I wasn't expecting, one of the servers was expected to chant the Epistle.  My brother - being the generous, humble guy that he is - let me have fun with that, and after 30 minutes of reviewing what we were doing (how the profession ceremony would happen, what was different, who was doing incense, etc.) and a good bit of practicing on my part (actually, I wasn't that nervous, the tone wasn't difficult and the passage was short), we banged the set of chimes that they use to signal the beginning of Mass and processed out.  The chapel - as often in cloistered monasteries - was set up with the sisters/cloister lined up with the altar and the lay congregation off to the side (like an "L", with the sanctuary in the corner) - and because it was ad orientum, I only had a glance of my sister (in the cloister) and grandparents/uncle (who were in the congregation, obviously, but whom I hadn't seen yet).  Mass was like a Low EF Mass, but with incense, so everything went relatively normally until around the homily.  Right after the Gospel (about the foolish and wise virgins), but before the homily, my sister announced her desire to take temporary profession in the monastery.  It was simple phrase, but she was so excited! 

Before the trip I was excited to be back with the family for a bit, to visit my sister, and to enjoy a bit of American cuisine, but - looking back - this was the best moment!  There was my twin sister, much like those 50 men here who gave their lives totally over to Our Lord 2 months ago, giving her life to God - more officially/completely than before - and absolutely overjoyed to do it.  The homily was great - expounding on the beauty of the cloistered call to chastity, and the idea that kept running through my mind was that of joy.  I had been thinking about my sister's vocation in terms of difficulty.  Entering the cloister is tough, it means giving up a lot, and I thought that for that reason it was a great call.  I mean, we all have to give up something to follow God's will for us - that's the cross - but the cloister seemed a particularly difficult one regardless.  However, my sister wasn't filled with trepidation - at the difficulty - or bravado - at the challenges to come - or even excitement - for the life ahead; she was filled with joy, peace, happiness, and other such awesome gifts of God.  The thing was, where I see challenges to be pulverized (with God's help, of course), she wasn't even looking for the next challenge to be attacked, but instead simply looking at God, and trusting that He would help in whatever might come.  Where I focus on the incoming/upcoming thing to do, finish, learn, grow, or become, she simply focusses on the end goal of all that "doing", which is God, and His will.  I've wondered in the past how some of the sisters you see are always so joyful.  I mean, I'm trying to follow Christ too, but I'm not exactly constantly beaming with joy and excitement...  What's the difference?  They trust God better than I do.  Boom, now I know my next challenge, oh wait...


Receiving the black veil!
Yeah, so not only was it amazing to see my sister taking the next step in her vocation (after the homily she made a couple of promises - to the church, the bishop, the order, etc. - and also received the black veil), but it was amazing to realize that that supernatural joy is truly a gift from God.  Not in the sense that he only gives it to some people, but that only some people take Him up on that offer.  It was a beautiful moment, and one that I will cherish for a long time.  Mass continued as normal - at least as normal as Jesus transforming the host into Himself for our reception usually is - with no major hiccups at any point (oh, the Epistle went fine by the way).  After Mass, in another incredible blessing of the trip, we were allowed to come up to the grille in the chapel (where there is an opening for the sisters to receive Communion) and give my sister a hug.  She was still grinning, as you might imagine, and it was just a blessed moment (the first time my grandparents and uncle were able to visit her in there, so it was especially touching to see them meet her for the first time as a nun!)  After Mass, we got to converse for a bit - during which my sister spoke about her preparation for that big day, how the sisters had kept my coming to the ceremony a surprise till the last minute, and in general, everybody was able to fill each other on what had been happening and congratulate Sr. Mary Thomas (my sister's religious name) on her first profession.  We had a delicious - as usual - lunch provided by the sisters and then got to spend part of the afternoon continuing to speak with my sister. 

Who's the happiest?
I guess, I could prolong this post quite a bit further, droning on about the intricacies of what I was up to, but I won't, because the big things had already happened.  As usual, we struggled to come up with a poem to send back through the turn for the sisters...  Yep, I got to talk a lot with my sister (not another, but still) and we stayed up late catching up as a family (it felt like 5 AM to me)...  Yeah, I had another banana the next morning, and Mass was beautiful again (as was all the prayers that we were able to join the sisters for), and saying good-by to everybody was hard (though we did enjoy a 5-Guys burger before parting, which was about as American as it gets).  Of course, the flights were long (Spiderman 2 wasn't as good as I was hoping, but I got a tiny bit of sleep in and a bit of praying/reading in), and the airports somewhere between exciting and exasperating.  But the trip ended on a good note because the busses were running from the airport, and - annoyingly, but mostly amusingly - the wheel on my bag (with chocolate chips and BBQ sauce inside, among other things!) decided to self-destruct mid-way back to the NAC (approximately when I was passing St. Peter's), and, when I went over to St. Peter's for Mass (it was now Monday, because of the time-traveling that I had been doing..., so I hadn't been to Mass yet), I found that it was the funeral Mass for Cardinal Angelini.  I was pretty much a zombie standing there (I was going on 30 hours without much sleep - I would have never imagined they could make a seat as hard to fall asleep in than those on airplanes), but it was pretty obvious I was back in Rome.  Mass in St. Peter's, Swiss Guards, tourists, the mad rush for Communion, hearing Italian...  Va bene!

Super recap: Flying on planes can be fun, American food is still great, seeing the family after a couple months is even better, and God's grace in action, in my sister, is amazing!  The whole experience fit really well with Thanksgiving (which we are still celebrating here at the NAC - with tons of food, football, and the new/old-man shows); it truly reminded me what I am most thankful for.  Yep, being here in Rome is awesome, the food is great (here and back home), and I'm enjoying myself immensely, but life is about so much more than that!  It's about being thankful to God for His much more precious gifts: tremendous friends (here and in America), an amazing, loving, supportive family, and a call from God Himself, to follow Him, to love like Him, to give like Him, and thereby live with Him forever (starting now!)  Tremendous, right!  Thanksgiving indeed! 

Photos in the monastery from their website, otherwise from myself...  Please keep all the sisters in your prayers, especially as we begin the Year of Consecrated Life tomorrow (with the beginning of Advent!)
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Reminders of God's Will in Assisi

So this morning I got up around 6 (which seems to be the schedule that I am settling on for my time here in Assisi) and after a quick shower headed down the hill (5 minute walk) to San Stephano, a tiny little chapel where we have been having Mass as a group (in English) for the past week and a half.  Fr. Kevin, a priest who happens to be studying Italian with us, is kind enough to make the walk in from where he is staying outside Assisi a couple hours earlier each day to offer Mass for us.  Well, this morning, I read the readings before Mass and was kind of wondering how (or if) he would pull together St. Ignatius of Loyola - the founder of the Jesuits - with Jeremaiah - who speaks on God as a potter, forming us like clay - and Jesus - who tells us today in St. Matthew's Gospel that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a net full of fish, both good and bad. 

Thankfully, Father is a wonderful homilist - not long winded, but adept at pulling many seemingly disconnected things together and keeping it interesting at the same time.  Well, I wasn't dissapointed.  He began by speaking on the painting by Rafael of the Gospel passage, of this catch of fish at the end of the world, of all the nations being drawn to Christ.  This painting, as it turns out was comissioned by Leo X, who, through his extensive patronage of the arts back in the 1500s, bankrupted the Church to such an extent that they were hardpressed to find candles for his funeral Mass!  Moving into the first reading, Father reminded us that we must completely abondon ourselves to GOD's will, not our own.  Like St. Ignatius, we must convert, we must open ourselves to God's plan, a decision that takes things out of our hands and puts them into Christ's.  Obvious right?  Well, this means living like St. Ignatius - falling in love with Christ in the midst of his pain, deciding to turn his life completely around, not trying to plan his own vocation but instead letting God take command and just going where God took him (first to the Holy Land, then Paris, then Rome).  We must, as it says in the Gospel, let God "haul us ashore, put what is good in buckets, and throw away what is bad" [Paraphrasing Matthew 13].  God must do the molding, not ourselves!  As the life of St. Ignatius shows us, God uses mysterius means to bring us to Himself - for Ignatius, it was a cannonball that ended his promising career in the military and landed him in a hospital where he could only read about the lives  of Christ and the saints.

We must ask ourselves what clues (or maybe less subtle reminders) that God has put in our lives every day of the places where we are failing to open ourselves to Him, where we aren't committing ourselves to His plan and are instead trying to follow our own.  Pope Leo 10th was following his own plan when he bankrupted the church - did we end up with some great art? - certainly, but was that God's plan? - probably not (though, of course, God brings good out of it).  I am reading "Intoduction to the Devout Life" by St. Francis De Sales, and, as it often seems to happen, what I was reading today seemed to mesh really well with everything that was happening this morning.  He is speaking on devotion, how it is the perfection of love in our hearts (surely God's will for all of us) and he noted that those who lack devotion - those of the world - do "not see the interior and cordial devotion which renders all these actions [fasting, prayer, patience, generosity, stifliing the passions, and all the other virtues] agreeable, seet and easy."

Basically, Our Lord wants to mold us like Himself, He wants to recreate us in His own image, and the only way that can happen is if we are totally open to His will, totally available to His work, totally willing to submit ourselves to whatever He has planned for us.  All the saints are great examples of people learning this abandonment.  I am reading "To Whom Shall We Go?" by Cardinal Dolan on St. Peter and I am in the chapter about Jesus' threefold request of Peter whether he loves Him.  Our Lord asks us the same thing today (and every day): "do you love me more than these?" - more than worldy pleasures, more than friends and family, more than your own will for yourself?  It's a hard task to say "yes Lord, You know that I love You."  It's hard in our culture to not deny Christ in some way each day!  BUT, the saints offer us great examples of what great things happen when we follow Christ.  They show us that it is a sweeter, more wonderful, more peaceful, and more joyful life when we abandon ourselves to Christ's will (He knows better than us what will make us happy).  Let us strive then this day to see God's will in everything that happens, and better try to discern what He wants us to do - of course, based around opening ourselves to His love.

With that, off to 6 hours of Italian studies - I guess I need to figure out where that fits into God's plan for me!  Sorry for the complete dearth of posts lately, I've been busy!  (I'll work on it though!)  Everything was awesome in Rome, everything has been more peaceful, but has entailed more work here in Assisi, and in pretty much everything I've found myself growing closer to Our Lord, especially through His saints, and all the other guys in my class, who are a fantastic group of guys!  Bon Giorno!
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The Chrism Mass, It's Not About Me... (and that is hard)

Welcome to Holy Week! 

Today myself and the rest of the guys here from my diocese went over to the Cathedral in Springfield for the annual Chrism Mass, which, unsurprisingly, is when the bishop blesses the oils (and consecrates the Sacred Chrism) for the use of all the priests of the diocese throughout the coming year.  However, the Chrism Mass is also where the priests of the diocese renew their dedication to serve the people of the diocese.

Last year I was a new seminarian, heading through my second semester at Brute, and participating in my first big diocesan Mass.  This year I am a senior at Brute, quickly approaching graduation and looking forward to moving onto Theology level seminary next year at the NAC.  It has only been a year but the perspective is completely different.  However, despite all that has happened the past year – the massive increase in knowledge of, and appreciation for, philosophy, the many hours of prayer and discernment, the growth that I have seen happening in myself in all areas, the countless moments of fun and laughter, and everything else – I still found that I have a lot to learn, and discern, and grow… 

Last year I was privileged (at least in my mind) to have the position of holding the book for the Bishop.  I think this position is sometimes disliked because it is so physically demanding (that book gets heavy really fast, and you have to hold it for a long time), but I was new to the whole thing last year, so despite my shaking arms I still enjoyed being in that position immensely just because it gave me a great view of what was going on (in a job that was hard to mess up).  Anyway, this year, because we now have 20+ seminarians, I didn’t have any job during Mass, so I was just going to process in and basically just take in the sights until the end of Mass, when I would help distribute the holy oils.  Well, as it turned out, that (sorta boring) position was providential. 

After practice we had a short break (during which I worked on some homework – did I mention that I am really busy right now), and then a Holy Hour.  After Evening Prayer and Benediction all of us seminarians, along with many of the priests of the diocese went downstairs for a delicious dinner of lasagna, salad, rolls, and green beans.  Before dinner got started however, I managed to talk for a few minutes with my pastor and during the conversation he casually dropped the thought that I may have to be Sub-Deacon during the liturgies of Good Friday and Easter.  Sub-deacon, for those who aren’t familiar, was a minor level of ordination which men went through before being ordained deacons prior to Vatican II, after which point it was suppressed/eliminated.  However, in the Extraordinary Form (which I will be attending for the Easter Triduum), the position is still used in the liturgy.  Usually, it is just filled by a deacon (or priest), but – in the absence of someone who has been ordained – a non-ordained man can fill the role as a sort of “straw” subdeacon.  Still, my immediate reaction was to try and avoid the position.  Not so much because I am scared of what I may have to do, or what I’ll have to learn, but because jumping into that position seems so much closer to priesthood than “just” serving.  The subdeacon wears vestments (of some sort), and assists the priest more directly than your typical server, and so, I just felt really uncomfortable thinking about filling that role.  Sure, an un-ordained person could (canonically) fill the role, but traditionally a seminarian became a subdeacon  only a bit before being ordained Deacon (which is still a few years out for me), so I immediately was thinking about how much I wasn’t ready to jump up to that position.  It’s not like I have all that much choice in the matter – if they don’t have a subdeacon, I’m about all they have – but I still really didn’t want to do it.  Anyway, before the conversation got much further than me realizing that it sounded pretty probable that I’d have to do sub-deacon, the bell rang and off we went to dinner.

Throughout dinner and in the time before Mass that followed I didn’t really have a chance to think about the topic, but during Mass (when I didn’t have much to do except sit there), the thought began to nag at me.  Why didn’t I want to do subdeacon?  Fear? – not a good reason.  Pride? – even worse.  Inexperience? – I’ll get instructions.  Timidity? – not a good reason either.  Not thinking I was ready to fill that position? – not a problem canonically.  My dilemma: I couldn’t find a good reason to not do it, but I still didn’t want to – and that, of course, was my problem.

This job, studying to be a priest, isn’t about me.  It isn’t about what I feel like doing (or not doing), what I’m comfortable with (or not).  I felt the collar pressing against my throat (which I only wear at diocesan Masses, so it’s noticable) – this is a symbol of the priest, of the alter Christi, of me giving my life totally to Christ.  Then my mind came back to the homily and the bishop was talking to all the priests of the diocese about how they must – above any other function – care for the souls of those in their flock.  Their purpose is to serve, to humbly obey.  Gosh, thought I, there is no way I can get myself out of doing subdeacon – there isn’t someone else to do it, there is no canonical problem, fear (my motivator) isn’t coming from God, and the role that I am filling right now, seminarian, is about training for the priesthood, which means serving and obeying.  Basically, there I was trying my best to figure out a way of not becoming like Christ, and that doesn’t really fit with the goal of life which is becoming like Christ.  Jesus didn’t want to suffer, but He says “not my will but thine be done”.  Mary wasn’t ready to become the mother of God, but she said “be it done to me according to your word”.  Peter was a fisherman, he didn't think himself worthy to follow Christ, yet Christ calls him and asks him to become a “fisher of men”.  One of the guys this week gave a reflection on Jesus’ last word “it is finished” and connected it to how Christ gave Himself utterly, completely, absolutely to the Father.  We are called to do the same, to let God “finish” us, to give ourselves absolutely entirely, every moment, every feeling, and every bit of our strength, to Him.  There isn’t another way to follow – it’s all or nothing, it’s either doing God’s will, or ours, there’s nothing in between.  It’s either stepping out of the boat – doing something that we don’t want to, but that Christ calls us to – or turning back and not following Christ.  

Basically, during Mass I realized my continuing need for conversion.  I realized that my fears and desires weren’t directing me towards God, they were directing me away from God.  I don’t want to be subdeacon, but what does God want?  Am I willing to go out of my comfort zone, am I willing to step up to the plate, to not say no when I am asked to do something hard?  Here I am, in the middle of Holy Week, thinking ahead to Good Friday – when Jesus Christ, My God, gave Himself completely for me – and I’m worried about filling the uncomfortable position (for me) of subdeacon.  “Take up your cross!”


Yep, so yesterday was awesome, not only because of the time I got to spend with all the other seminarians from my diocese, and the splendor of the Mass, and the good food we got to eat beforehand, and the Holy Hour that we did with all the priests and bishop, but more importantly because it really forced me to see where I have some progress to make, some converting to do, some legitimate sacrifice to be offered up.  It forced me to realize that following God’s will isn’t always easy – but you have to do it anyway.  Despite the difficulty that I may experience in doing subdeacon, despite my reservations and fears, I am thankful to God that he has called me to do it.  I still don't want to, but I know that it will lead to my growth in humility and obedience, both things that I certainly need more of.  Thank you Lord!
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Joy

While discerning whether to enter seminary, I was told that one's vocation is found where one finds peace, joy, and fulfillment (credit: Fr. Daren Zehnle).  Today I want to write about the 2nd component, joy.

Many people today define joy with something like having pleasure in whatever we are doing.  However, this is a very temporal, passing kind of joy.  True joy is found in following God.  Augustine distinguished temporal and eternal goods – the former are things like cars, books, food, and technology, the latter like, well, God and I suppose things like truth, grace, and love.  We will only come to true lasting happiness through desiring the eternal goods.

Many times in my different posts I have connected following God’s will to joy.  But in life we sometimes don’t feel too joyful.  Day to day life isn’t always fun, we have to work, study, and otherwise do things we just don’t want to do.  Suffering, illness, persecution, even death, are part of our lives, and they aren’t any fun either…


Thankfully though, there is an answer in Christianity.  (Seen in the responsory for evening prayer the other day):

I shall know the fullness of joy, when I see your face, O Lord.

Wait a second you say, that is just saying that we’ll find joy once we get to heaven - that’s great, but I’m not there yet. - What about right now?  Being Christian, and following God’s will, can transform our hum-drum, tough, sometimes sad lives into ones of joy.  We aren’t called to be stoic and just tough it out, Christ actually transforms all these negatives of our life into joy.  Don’t think I am advocating the Gospel of prosperity; being Christian doesn’t eliminate hardship, but it does transform it.
 
Take a look at this picture (which was made from the shroud of Turin, and is incredibly close many artistic depictions of Jesus.)  Here we see the face of our Lord, ripped to shreds, spat upon, beaten to a pulp, and yet there is a serenity, a peace, a joy.  Certainly the crucifixion wasn’t fun (that’s beyond obvious), but joy never left Christ because He was acting out of love, out of service to God, out of complete self-giving.  In the midst of our often painful life, never forget to look upon Christ’s face and find His joy.  Don’t get me wrong, the fullness of joy, absolute bliss, true happiness, is only found in God, in heaven.  But in this life, when we are unhappy, despondent, poor, sick, or despairing, look to Christ.  Connect your sufferings with His.   Know that the Resurrection always comes after death (when we die to self, out of love for God and others), and that God always brings a greater good out evil.  “Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven” – Matthew 5:11-12
 
This post isn’t exceptionally deep, or philosophical, but I found myself wrestling with the question of what happens when one is following Christ and things don’t turn out the way we want?  Probably you already know this, but that this is exactly what the Resurrection is all about.  Everything went wrong for Jesus, His life and death were not fun, yet joy is still there.  We will find the true fullness of joy in heaven, but even here on earth joy can still be ours when we follow Christ.  Joy is found not in success, but in service (to Christ).  Christ transforms suffering into victory and hardship into a way to grow closer to God.
 
In conclusion, look at Mary.  Her life was full of difficulty, pain, even fear, but she was also full of joy.  “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.” – Luke 1:46-47 Notice that joy comes from Mary being a humble servant of God; this is what we must also strive for. 
 
I have an idea for a follow-up post on how exactly we follow God, but that may take a few days to do (it looks like it will be a very, very busy week, so we'll see).
 
Thanks for reading!  Give glory to God in absolutely everything!
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Our Mother Mary - The Wedding Feast of Cana

I wanted to do something for mother's day, and who better to write about than our spiritual mother, Mary.  I guess this is a few days late, but better late than never right?  These won't be anything too world changing, but just some thoughts that I've had...
 
My first post will revolve around the wedding feast of Cana:
 
(John 2:1-7)  "On the third day there was a wedding at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there.  Jesus also was invited to the wedding with his disciples.  When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine."  And Jesus said to here,  "woman, what does this have to do with me?  My hour has not yet come."  His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you."  Now there were six stone water jars there for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons.   Jesus said to the servants. "Fill the jars with water."  And they filled them up to the brim."

Often the question is asked why we would pray to Mary when we could just pray to Jesus.  Jesus is God, Mary is not, and if you can pray straight to God, why pray to anybody else?  The wedding feast at Cana gives us some answers:

Here we have Mary interceding on behalf of the newlyweds and their guests.  Note that the people in charge of the party didn't go to Jesus for help.  For one, Mary, more so than everybody else there, knew who Jesus was, and secondly, she had the "clout" (apologies for my lack of theological terminology) to convince Jesus to perform His first miracle.  Here's the connection to our lives: Mary's personal relationship with Christ is a ton better than mine (or anybody else's on this planet).  1. She is a saint - which means she is perfectly united to God in heaven.  2. She is Jesus' mother - which is a much closer personal relationship than I am ever going to have.  and 3. She has been given to us, by Christ, to be our mother (that will get its own post later).

Another big point: Mary is not going to lose our prayers or make them less "convincing" somehow.  Mary takes our prayers directly to Jesus more fervently and beautifully than we ever could.  From the same passage we have Mary's words: "Do whatever he tells you."  Point: there is nothing to fear in going to Mary.  She will always direct us, aid us, and help us on the path towards God.  Mary was chosen by God as the way he would enter the world and thereby save mankind.  Certainly, if God chose her, we should too.  Her entire life revolved around saying "yes" to God, and now we see her telling (and helping) us to do the same.

I hope to do posts on the Annunciation and the moment when Jesus gives us His mother (while on the cross).  Maybe other ones will get in there too...  Mary is such a beautiful model for humanity.  She is the example of giving one's self completely to God - no matter the consequences or the uncertainties.  She is such an amazing help in getting to Heaven - God's original method of bringing Himself (incarnate) into the world was Mary, and He has continued to pour grace upon us through her. 

Let me know in the comments if this post is a good length - I don't want to ramble on too long, and I also don't want to keep it too simple...  While you formulate your exquisite comment, listen to the video below.  Enjoy!
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Pray Without Ceasing!

This morning for Mass we had the surprise (to me) of having a deacon assisting the priest.  In this case, it was a previous graduate of Bruté, who came back to visit, and was present for Mass.  Due to the visit of our associate vocation director (Fr. Daren Zehnle), the fact that I'm postponing working on essays, and other reasons, I don't have time to write up about the homily (sorry...).  but, he also gave the intercessions for the prayer of the faithful.  He had the usual: "For the pope, the bishops, and priests..., for the end of abortion, and respect for life..., etc.", but he also included a quick one about the North Korean dilemma.  I don't remember the exact words, but I found that the more important thing that it reminded me of was that we need to constantly pray to God.  

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."
Here is the problem: we only take spiritual things to God.  We beg God to make us more fervent, or more charitable, or more contrite for our sins, or to have a deeper relationship with Him, or thank Him for the sacraments, or praise Him for the Paschal mystery.  Well, all those things are wonderful, fantastic, just great. But God wants us to surrender everything to Him.  To pray to Him for help in every moment of life, to praise Him for everything around us, to thank Him for everything, etc.  There isn't some part of life that we shouldn't pray about, and I (maybe you too) just don't do that.  

"My Father, if it be possible,
let this cup pass from me; nevertheless,
 not as I will, but as you will."
- Matt 26:39
For me at least, I found myself talking about and looking into whether North Korea had the weapons capable to nuke us (or anybody for that matter), if we had the weapons to stop it, if Kim Jong Un is crazy enough to launch them, etc.  And I never put the issue into God's hands...  This one petition really stopped me in my tracks and reminded me of an important part of being a Christian: surrendering to God, giving my life totally, completely, utterly to Christ.  It's hard to do, hard to think about, and hard to comprehend, but everyone is called to give their lives to Christ.  Not just priests, not just nuns, not just the super holy, religious, pious, or whoever.  

Mark 8:34: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it."
Yep, it's hard, but remember to read the rest of the passage from Thessalonians: 
"rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."  
Be joyful in following Christ's will for you!  We find the perfect example of this total submission to God in prayer in Jesus Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane (see picture), and remember how that turned out...  Happy Easter!
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