Open Wide the Doors for Christ!

A couple of weeks ago our formation conference for the week was on Lectio Divina and the priest who was giving the talk at one point spoke about how sometimes even the distractions we find ourselves occupied with when we're trying to pray can be a trigger for prayer, or can be brought into prayer - and thus we not only return our mind/heart to God, but also bring to Him those things which are bugging/concerning us.  Usually I haven't been particularly successful in turning my distractions over to God in this way - it's hard to go from thinking about the pancakes that are on the menu and somehow turn that into prayer, for instance... - but today was different.  Today I spent like 6 hours studying for my Christology final which is tomorrow, and my brain was pretty well past the bursting point when I got into the chapel for my Holy Hour.  So, of course, my mind was filled with the medley of different facts that I had been trying to memorize/organize all day, and I wasn't getting very far in the whole considering God, Who was present before me, and conversion of heart and growing in love and everything...

 

Previously though, the teacher of the Christology recap class (in English!) had mentioned a couple of times that it was important to take the material we were learning to prayer.  We wouldn't learn about Christ unless we were speaking with Him!  Now, I had sat in the chapel a couple of times and reviewed notes - you know, highlighting about half of the stuff on all 40 pages, and writing comments in the margins, and then dozing off (not very productive in other words) - but today I actually took all the stuff to prayer, and boom, it was amazing.  I was meditating on the sorrowful mysteries while saying the rosary and all of them absolutely came alive with the information and insights that I had been working on today, it was great!  (And that is what this post is about!):

 

For the Agony in the Garden, my mind was brought to the focus this passage puts on the humanity of Christ - on His intense suffering, on His emotions, on the crushing weight of our sins, on the sweating of blood - but it is in precisely this moment, when the soldiers come to arrest Him, that Christ responds to their demand with "I AM"  Wham!  They hit the ground!  Why?  Because Jesus just spoke the name of God - the Tetragrammaton (we learned about that in Hebrew class!) - and not only that (which was blasphemous in itself) but used it to refer to Himself.  This moment in which we see Christ's intense suffering and weakness is also one that reveals His divinity.  This is where the Church will later be able to come to deeper and deeper knowledge about this very mystery - the hypostatic union, the humanity and divinity of Christ.  The council of Nicea (rejecting Arianism) will be able to say that Christ was fully human and fully divine - not just almost divine (homoiousia, similar in being with the Father), but actually fully divine (homoousia, one in being with the Father).  Why?  Because if Christ isn't fully human and fully divine He can't redeem us (more on that later).  But that's not all!  The council of Constantinople III was also able to affirm that Christ had both a human and divine will.  Why?  Because the hypostatic union - gradually discerned at previous councils - meant that the hypostases (Person) of the Logos, originally solely having a divine nature (as it is with the Father and Spirit) assumed - in time - a human physis (nature) as well, which meant that He had both human body and soul, with all our powers/abilities (otherwise He couldn't redeem body and soul), all the while retaining the Divine will as well.  This is obvious from this text in the double movement of Christ begging the Father to "let this cup pass from me" (His human will), but then immediately follows with "but not my will but thine be done" (His human and divine will are always in harmony with each other).  

 

For the Scourging at the Pillar I was considering the incredible humiliation and pain Our Lord underwent for our sake.  He accepts the greatest sufferings to be united to our own suffering which we caused by our own sins!  He accepts the greatest humiliations to further unite us to the shame caused by our selfishness and disobedience!  But "by His stripes we are healed"; He chooses to suffer in our place, He takes upon Himself not only our nature but also the punishment we deserve. 

 

For the crowning of thorns I was considering the titles that Christ had been given throughout His ministry but only accepts them in this moment.  Here (during His passion), unlike many other places in the Gospel, Jesus allows Himself to be called Christ, King, and Son of God.  Why?  Because this is the moment when they finally receive their full meaning.  Messiah or Christ, as well as King, are titles that the people expected to give to a victorious political savior - somebody who will kick the Romans out and bring on God's kingdom.  Of course, here is Christ, under Roman power, beaten, spit upon, silent.  Here, Christ gives the true image of the messiah and king - one who will be the suffering servant foretold by Isaiah, one who will bring God's true kingdom, which is not of this world.  Here, we see that the Son of God spoken of by Daniel and Ezekiel isn't just an angel, or prince, or something, but the God-man, who doesn't come down from the cross, but stays there for us.  Only in the light of the passion do these titles receive their true meaning, only here, bloody, condemned to die, does Our Lord accept them, knowing that there is no risk that they will be misinterpreted to think He is a political, temporal messiah.

 

The carrying of the cross: Our Lord falls, uniting Himself to our own falls.  Our Lord lifts the heavy cross, uniting Himself to us, who too must carry crosses.  Here the king of the universe, the Lord of lords, Him through whom all was created, needs help to carry His own cross up to Golgotha.  One can see the church - Christ's mystical body - battered and assaulted as all its members (us) struggle on towards Christ - falling sometimes under sin, battered by the powers and hate of the world, humiliated by the weakness of us who make it up... Of course, this is an imperfect analogy, but it is one that deeply shows us the union we have - through the church - not only of Christ's victory over death (a point that Paul emphasizes) but also with His cross. 

 

 

And then we reach the crucifixion.  Here everything comes together.  The scandal of Christianity - the paradox of God-made-man, who suffers for us, which every heretic has tried to explain away, but we must accept in faith (Paul again!) - is made obvious with the placard nailed above Our Lord: "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews"  Jesus can't be the messiah, can't be our king, can't be our Lord, can't be God - not only is He nailed to the cross ("crushed by our offences"), but He came from Nazareth.  Yet in His weakness, in His seeming-abandonment by everyone and even God ("My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?").  In this lowest, most crushing, most overwhelming, most painful moment He is called King of the Jews.  Who is the King of the Jews?  God Himself.  He cries out "I thirst" - isn't this another moment of weakness?  No.  He begs that we respond to Him in trust and faith.  He cannot force us, He is nailed to the cross, yet those nails don't hold Him, His infinite love does.  He beseeches us to come to Him, to come to His cross, to embrace Him, bloodied and broken for us.  Aquinas explains how Christ can save us in several ways.  Through merit - He is the head of the church, through which the merits and glory He gains by His obedience to the Father is passed to us (opposite the death and concupiscence passed onto us by the first Adam).  Through satisfaction - He makes up for our sinfulness through His super-abundant love, His charity makes up for our lack of charity, even our actions which nailed Him to the cross.  Through sacrifice - He is the perfect priest, offering the perfect victim (Himself) to God the Father, for us (we can't offer a satisfactory victim to make up for the injustice we have made through our sins, but Jesus can).  Through redemption - He pays the price to God for our freedom, that instead of being slaves to sin and the devil (a punishment we chose for ourselves through sinning), we might be bound to God through love.  But the main reason, and the most profound one, is that Jesus Himself is the agent (efficient cause) of our salvation.  Again, this isn't only in His divinity (though it is principally God who saves us), but also in His humanity (instrumentally - it's only a man that can fully redeem men).  He goes to the full extent of human suffering to save us from eternal suffering separated from Him! 

Jesus cries out "it is finished".  What is finished?  The soteriological [salvific] mystery that He began the night before - when He made Himself our slave, washing the apostles feet and showed Himself God, by instituting the new covenant in His blood with the gift of Himself in the Eucharist (again, we see Jesus showing Himself divine in the moment when He is most humble).  But that mystery  had already began years before in His first kenosis [self-emptying] that took place in His incarnation, when He took upon Himself our nature.  It's incredible, the Logos, the Son from all eternity, of the same substance as the Father and Spirit, became man.  His divinity didn't consume or overwhelm the flesh that He took, not being fully man (Docetism), He actually assumed a human nature (as Cyril affirms)!  As Jesus dies and the world goes dark, it seems as if death and sin have triumphed.  Yet, Christ is the "light [that] shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it". 

 

My rosary was finishing: "Oh my Jesus ... save us from the fires of hell, lead all souls to heaven".  As Christ died - as the second person of the Trinity died (the natures cannot be split) - He went as far as He could go out of love for us, to take upon Himself the penalty of sin.  And yet, in this moment - the worst moment of the entire passion - Christ's divinity again is made manifest.  For He triumphantly rises, the tomb is found empty, the Apostles come to faith, and then go to take that faith out to the world!  Death is overcome, sin is conquered, love destroys hate. 

 

And there you have it!  Distractions aren't always bad, Christology isn't quite as impossible as I thought (and I can remember a bit of it!), and knowing about Christ can lead to greater love for Him.  Gosh, there are so many other details I could have thought about, so many other teachings by councils that could be traced back to these moments, so many different meanings that could be brought to light in meditating on the passion!  Now, if only I could remember all of that for tomorrow!  Off to study, hope this wasn't completely confusing!  Please send a prayer or two my way!

This is a write-up I did for the Quincy Herald Whig about a month ago (they surprised me by requesting a reflection on my opportunity to serve for the Pope, so I wrote this up for them).  They published it back then in part, but here is the entire reflection (kind of a different angle than my previous post about the Mass).  In other news, I finished my oral final in Fundamental Theology, which went really well - as far as I could tell - even though I ended up taking it in Italian, as well as the one in Hebrew, which also went well (good to be done with a couple more!)  Christology is tomorrow, and is said to be one of the harder ones, so I'll be studying a good bit today and praying tomorrow!

 

“The patience of God” – God’s immense love and generosity towards us – was a point that Pope Francis returned to again and again during his homily for Christmas. It was also the idea that was running through my mind as I knelt there – in Rome, in St. Peter’s Basilica, in the first row of chairs behind Bernini’s immense baldacchino, serving Christmas Mass for the pope,– as the Holy Father pronounced the words of consecration, “This is my body… This is my blood…”, repeating the words that Our Lord pronounced so long ago, transforming, as Jesus promised, the host into Our Lord’s body, and the wine into His blood. It was an incredible moment!

Before my eyes flashed past the last several years of my life. My moving from being homeschooled, to attending community college in Quincy, to finally getting up the gumption to enter seminary and follow His “call”, discerning whether the desire in my heart to become a priest was also God’s will. I entered Bishop Bruté College Seminary in Indianapolis, studying for the diocese of Springfield, IL, in August of 2012, and Our Lord immediately made that patient, generous, love immensely evident to me. He graced me with tremendous growth in prayer, and my personal relationship with Him, with a sincere enjoyment of, and progress in, my philosophy studies, with the friendships, and fun, of being surrounded by dozens of other excellent, joyous, and eager seminarians, as well as so many other moments of excitement and happiness (sports, youth-rallies, skydiving, bar-b-quing, and so much more). God, though, has continued to amaze and astound me with His generosity because now I have been given the marvelous opportunity to study theology in Rome, here at the North American College. It’s as if Our Lord has “upped the ante”, drawing me into even deeper prayer through the magnificent churches, beautiful art, and proximity to the saints that one finds here, putting me in phenomenal, interesting, and edifying classes, surrounding me with another outstanding group of friends, classmates, and brothers, and – like this past evening – filling my days with once-in-a-lifetime opportunities of all sorts.



Washing the Pope's Hands!


At the end of the ceremony, as the choir triumphantly sang “Adeste Fidelis” during the procession out of the packed basilica, and the Pope carried the statue of the Baby Jesus to the crèche, my mind was distracted with the growing fatigue of my arms. Those processional candles were beautiful alright, but they were also heavy, and not being the tallest of the group, I had to hold mine at an uncomfortably high position, further hastening the buildup of lactic acid in my muscles... But then I glanced around and realized for the umpteenth time during that Mass that I was in St. Peter’s Basilica, mere feet from the Pope, Christ’s vicar, and celebrating the beautiful and awesome feast of Our Lord’s birth. It was a situation that reminded me, again, of everything that had happened over the last several years. It hasn’t always been easy – those philosophy classes were tough, and the theology ones in Italian are even more difficult, prayer hasn’t always felt fruitful, and so often I’m too tired to truly raise my mind to God, sometimes those other guys got on my nerves, and saying goodbye to come over to Rome certainly wasn’t easy – but in every moment, fun and stressful, easy and hard, exciting and exhausting, I can see God’s providence constantly guiding me down the way He wants me to take, making me the individual He wants me to be. Getting drawn closer to Jesus, and His joy, means being drawn closer to the cross, and further away from my own selfishness, laziness, fears, and desires. Those shepherds got to meet Christ their savior, but only after getting over there fears and trekking down into town, out of their way, to find Him. I got to serve Mass for the Pope, but only if I sweated a bit and carried around that heavy candle. As Pope Francis emphasized, God is immensely patient: this is what Christmas is all about! God humbly, innocently, without coercion, becomes one of us, to show us His love and draw us to Himself. All those incredible blessings, and difficult struggles, that I have experienced, have been His gifts – sometimes humble, sometimes frightening, sometimes small, sometimes big – and through them, God continues, ever so gently, to direct me towards his will. As it turns out, life as a seminarian here in Rome is very much like that Mass: an incredible, awesome, fun, and life-changing experience, but requiring a little soreness and trepidation as part of the process.

Not only was it incredible to be there – serving Mass for the Pope – but it was even more incredible to realize God’s love present constantly in my life. Every year, billions of people celebrate Christmas – the coming of Christ, as a man, into the world, 2000 years ago – but we forget that He wants to enter our lives at all times, not just on December 25th. So often I get distracted by the problems and struggles of life, and forget to step back and notice how much He gives me, not only in the overtly blessed, exciting and joyful moments, but also in those times of weariness, fear, and difficulty, when He desires that I return and trust in Him. So many times I forget to thank Him, or forget to have faith in Him. Yet He continues to give Himself to me, and to all of us, humbly lying there in the manger, in the Sacraments, in the Scriptures, in the encounters of daily life, patiently awaiting our approach and acceptance of Him.

“The patience of God” – it’s something God has generously shown me time and again in my own life, and it’s a gift that He gives all of us. The extraordinary, unlikely, and wonderful experience of serving Christmas Mass at St. Peter’s, for Pope Francis, has reminded me yet again of the profound truth in the saying “God will not be outdone in generosity”. You don’t, though, need to serve in a Papal Mass to see that: at Christmas we celebrate the even more extraordinary, unlikely, and wonderful event of God becoming man, of Jesus being born. That event, the coming of Christ into our world, also requires a bit of sacrifice on our part (to open ourselves up to Him), but it, even more than Mass with Pope Francis, or living in Rome, is totally worth it! 

I have ordered some "official" pictures of the Mass so hopefully in the coming weeks I can get those up here - they're a lot better than a screen-grab from the YouTube video...  Still, the experience is more important than the pictures, so I wanted to get this post up here.

So this morning I sat down at mom and dad's computer (because mine is broken) and started writing a post about love, how it is so much more than the modern world thinks it is, and requires so much more on our part.  But then I started getting bogged down trying to introduce the topic and so, I switched to this post, which is just as belated in coming, but will be much easier to quickly bang out.  Of course, the one on love is probably more important, but I'll have to wait for a bit of inspiration before that one gets moving again...

Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati

There are so many things that I have wanted to blog about this summer: just the typical day with the family (wake up at 7, pray, eat breakfast, work on Italian a bit, go to Mass, eat lunch, pack something, pray some more, go for a run, eat dinner, watch a movie, play a board game, pray the rosary, go to bed...), more about vacation (something about all the wonderful blessings God has given me - a great family, so much great hiking, kayaking, site-seeing, and eating), or about true fatherhood (and how it must emulate the Trinity, especially in a sacrificial love), or how difficult it is to avoid being lazy during the summer (how to carve out time for prayer, or growing in generosity...), or about Our Lady, or the Sacred Heart, or Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati (feast day a few days ago, incredible model for sanctity, charity, and chastity, from the modern world), and so on...  Basically, as always, I've had a ton of good ideas and not enough time and - more disastrously - not enough will power, to write them up (as of right now, I have like 60 something posts that are stuck in some kind of preliminary draft, most, I don't think, are going to escape that status).

So, I find myself less than a week away from leaving for Rome and I haven't wrote much, if anything, about what that means. So, this post will be practical, and maybe a bit funny - explaining what I've been up to lately in regards to preparing for my immanent departure - as well as explanatory - saying what I know about my trip over to the Eternal City, and what will happen once I get there - and finally, it will also be reflective - on my discernment up to this point and what it's like to be heading off to Rome.  I haven't gotten all these ideas straightened out in my head yet, but hopefully they will all come out in some sort of coherent fashion.

My Italian Visa!

Alright, so last week, having spent the previous 4 weeks at Springfield (for the ordinations), Chicago (to apply for an Italian Visa - which I have since received in the mail!), Washington (on vacation), Indianapolis (for Brute days), and Marbury, AL (to visit my sister, who is a novice at the Dominican Monastery of St. Jude down there), I didn't have much time to pack.  And so, when the 3rd or 4th week of July came around - the recommended dates by which I should ship my stuff over to Rome - I hadn't even started.  In fact, I still had four boxes of stuff on my floor, not to ship over, but ones that I hadn't even unpacked yet from moving out of Brute (yeah, I've been procrastinating).   So, as is usually the case, when I reached the point where I absolutely couldn't wait any longer, I decided to start.  I began by throwing everything in those boxes out on my floor, printing off the handy list that the NAC has made of things you should bring, and starting some sort of Catholic podcast on my iPod - here we go!  "School supplies" - well, I can get those later, I wouldn't forget things like that [yeah right!]..., "Liturgy of the Hours" - grabs them, shoves as many Holy Cards as possible into crevices between books, places in empty box - check, "Contact Lenses and Solution" - pounds down stairs, "hey dad, what's that place that you order contacts from?" [several minutes later, myself mystified by the technical jargon cryptically printed on the side of the box - spherical correction, pupilary distance, DIA, BC, ... dad decides to order the stuff - THANKS DAD! - and I pound back up to my room - check, "Italian grammar books" - checks Amazon.com, scrolls through the first 5 Italian/English dictionaries, finds one for $10, with 4 star reviews, clicks "add to cart", then gets distracted by Facebook, or YouTube, or some technology site - maybe I should get this tablet, or camera, or cool power conversion thingamabob - and then finally moves back to packing - check, "Two black suits and black pants" - check, "dozens of black socks" - "dozens!, I've never had a dozen black socks, if I have 6 pairs, that match, I think I'm doing good!", digs through the box of clothes that mom ordered, "hey look, black socks - oh yeah, mom printed this list out! [THANKS MOM!]" - check, "books" - glances around at pile of papers strewn across the floor - information on debit card, nope, visa application, nope, candidacy paperwork, nope, travel documentation, nope, finally finds the list of books, and then spends hours painstakingly tracking down the best prices for those books, and then orders the really important ones - check, sort of...  Then I glance at the clock, 11:20, good grief, we're leaving for Mass in 20 minutes, and I still need to take a shower and do morning prayer...

Too much stuff!

Such was the typical morning last week - I say week because though I expected to be able to get all my boxes packed up in a day or two, that didn't exactly happen.  Actually, I decided that I would ship my bike over as well - a lot of guys apparently have them over there, and I could see that it would be genuinely useful - can't be too hard right?  Off I went to the bicycle shop - on my bike, so they could see what kind I had - "Do you guy sell bicycle boxes?", "yep.", "OK, can I get one for my [insert type of bicycle here] bike?"  "Sure, but there is no way you'll be able to carry it home riding your bike." Oh ye of little faith, think I, it's only like a mile home, and I'm not too ashamed to look like a dork for a few minutes...  "Alright, I'll come back with a car." [a few hours later, having gone to Mass, talked with the guy at the FedEx place, and run by the bank, I return to the bike shop.] "Hi there, I'm here to pick up a bicycle box."  "Alright, that'll be $5.35, they're bringing it out from the back now."  Then, out from the back came one of the biggest boxes I had ever seen.  I mean, you couldn't fit a refrigerator in it, but there is no way I could have carried it on my bike, not even for a couple of blocks.  I awkwardly grappled with it and marched out to the car, where thankfully it squeezed into the backseat.

Fast-forwarding through the last week - I managed to fit my bicycle into this enormous box (it took up way more space than I thought it would), and I packed in as much clothing and towels and whatnot in around it (not only to secure the bike, but also to use up all that otherwise empty space) to the point where the box was bulging ominously, and I also finally got around to fitting the last several books into each of those other boxes, and finally [sorry, this is definitely a run-on sentence] I roped my brother into helping me and we took them out to the FedEx place [5 'and's - that's terrible].  And, wouldn't you know it, they were closed because it was the day before Independence Day.  I was a bit frustrated, not only because they were closed, but also because I was already running about a week behind on getting everything shipped and now it looked like it would be another week before I could get everything moving.  Thankfully though, I found another FedEx place outside of Quincy (I guess their sorting facility or something) and they were open.  So, after driving out there, and filling out the paperwork (which wasn't short or easy), and lugging the stuff into the tiny office, I finally was able to drive away knowing (alright, more like hoping) that it was all on its way.  Update from the future: Everything arrived just a few days later in Rome and is now awaiting my arrival!

Another big thing that happened this week regarding my immanent departure for the Eternal City was a big going away party of sorts on Saturday.  Mom had been planning it for several weeks now, thinking about all the different cool kinds of food, writing up lists of people to invite, scoping out (and renting) a pavilion at a park, and getting the house ready for the 20ish family members who were staying over.  Basically, it was going to be a pretty big deal and a last major opportunity for me to tell people what I was heading into (as well as I knew it) and - you know - saying good-buy.  Many of my cousins/aunts/uncles/grandparents were there, as were a lot of family friends from Church and elsewhere, and after a bit of rain and chilly weather in the morning, the afternoon turned into a perfect 80 degree and sunny day!  We had brats, hot-dogs, pulled-pork, mustard, onions, pickles, cole-slaw, potato-salad, pasta-salad, texas caviar (salsa on steroids), chips of all kinds, baked beans, watermelon, cookies, brownies, blackberry dump cake, angel food cake, strawberries, peaches, and on and on...  (It was all absolutely delicious!)  I was able to tell pretty much everybody a huge thanks for coming as well as a brief summary of what I would be up to over the next few weeks (on Sunday, fly to Rome, stay a week at the PNAC doing preliminary orientation stuff, then go to Assisi for 4 weeks of Italian immersion, then back to Rome for the full orientation, with all the old/past-year guys as well, before finally starting classes in late September).  And, to my delight, I was also able to have a ton of fun playing tag and soccer - I am not in as good of shape as I was even 2 months ago, something about not working out 4 times a week does that to you (oh, and all that food)...

So yeah, gosh, it was a spectacular, awesome, really-fun day.  I could go into many of the minor stories of talking with people, trying to stay warm during the morning of July 5th (what's up with that?) launching paper lanterns with cousins, collapsing that night on my sleeping-bag (the boys were kicked outside in tents because "there was no room for [us] in the place where travelers lodge" - sorry, I had to do that, the tents actually weren't bad at all).  I could reminisce about just how much of a blast it was to spend the weekend with all my cousins (as well as all those other friends) - all the fun things we did, chats we had, food we ate, or time we spent together.  But I guess I won't - rather I just want to emphasize just how blessed I am with all those wonderful, fun, people in my lives.  The times I've spent with all of them are beyond wonderful, they've been absolutely splendid, and I suppose that's a good segue into the next topic of this post: just how much I'm going to miss all of them.

At first glance - for myself too - being able to study in Rome looked like a dream come true.  I'll be honest, every since I first heard that seminarians studied in Rome, I was hoping to be able to do it.  But then came the moment of decision, back several months now, and I saw that it would also be hard to leave everything I know and love behind (to some extent).  Of course, back in November, that moment was far removed, so even though it was one of the few things that held me back from immediately saying yes, it wasn't an immediate concern.  Now, of course, it is.  I have watched the months slip past from the beginnings of my last semester in college, to Easter, to finals, and then to summer.  Even after graduation I comforted myself with the thought that I had another 2 months - packed with things to do and see and experience with family and friends - before I had to leave for Rome.  But now, 3 days away from take-off, I find myself in the really weird situation of being incredibly excited about taking that next step, of heading off to Rome for the theology years of seminary, and at the same time being saddened by the thought of leaving my family and friends behind.  Don't get me wrong, I'll make tons of great, new, friends over there, but it's going to be hard to not be with everybody from back home.  Am I worried about the Italian - sure - the oral finals - a bit - the totally unfamiliar place - yeah - but not that much...  I'm confidant that I can manage all those things.  But the remaining challenge, of leaving family and friends behind (again, not completely, I can skype, but it's not quite the same), that is something that no amount of hard work, or late nights, or confidence, can overcome.  That is a "loss", a sacrifice, that only God's grace is going to bring good out of.  Again, don't think that I'm considering it some dire, terrible, moment - moving away happens to everybody at some point, it would have happened in some measure regardless of whichever seminary I did theology at, but for me, going as far away as Rome, I think, will be especially challenging.  

I guess, what I'm trying to say here, is that I first thought that doing seminary in Rome would be completely wonderful, no sacrifices in sight - but I was wrong.  I still consider it a huge opportunity, and I'm sure it will be a wonderful, awesome, fun experience, and I know it will be spectacular to see everything over there, but I am now realizing that following ones vocation always brings one closer to the cross.  In a way, I'm glad, it means I'm on the right track - no pain, no gain; no cross, no Christ.  My aunt reminded me of this precise truth when she was here (and helping me go through the list of things I still need to pack) - every vocation - marriage, priesthood, religious life, single life - requires us to unite ourselves with Christ on the cross.  There is no resurrection, no victory, no heaven, without Calvary, without deciding to give up my wants, my petty pleasures, my sins, and instead allowing Christ's love to completely penetrate me.  Every vocation requires conversion, requires us becoming more like Christ (meaning being humble enough to accept death, even death on a cross), and I have found a tiny sliver of this truth in the otherwise fantastic chance I have received to be able to study in Rome.  I've been telling people over the past few months that I am both excited and scared to do my theology there, but in writing this post, I have realized that I'm not scared, I'm just excited.  Wait a second, you say, half this post was about how tough it's going to be for you to go over there, isn't that fear?  Well, no it's not, at least not any more.  Now, knowing full well that it could be tough to step on that plane (as well as the weeks that follow), I have realized that that small cross, that tiny sacrifice (in the big scheme of things) is a chance for me to follow Christ.  I feel better than ever about going to Rome because I feel like it won't just be an awesome experience, it will also be an experience that makes me a better man, a better (God willing) priest, and hopefully a saint.  It's not just an opportunity to see the world, it's an opportunity to increase my faith in God, to trust Him more, to become less attached to the passing things of this life.  

I had prayed over the past month or so that God - in taking me away from my family and friends - could somehow allow me to love them more, and I'm starting to realize how He is doing that.  Certainly, I won't be able to hang out with them in the same way, but maybe I'll come back a slightly holier person (we can hope!), maybe I'll be reminded to pray for them more, maybe I'll better realize their connection to me in the mystical body of Christ?  It's a more mystical, hard to see, kind of love, but its a better, stronger, more divine way to love at the same time!

Alright, so back to the present.  I have a few more days at home with the family - which I will use to pack up the last of my stuff (I sure hope it all fits in a suitcase) and spend some quality time with the family and in prayer - and then on Saturday, when everything gets done, I will head down to St. Louis for the afternoon/evening/night before boarding my plane from the airport there on Sunday morning at 9AM.  My flight goes to Newark, where I will wait around for several hours, and then - along with some 40 other new guys heading to the NAC - get on the plane for Rome at 5:15 PM.  After 8 and a half hours of flying (15-something hours on the clock), I will land in Rome!

Just what I needed...

Another update from the very annoying present: my computer just broke (best guess: the power jack, or charging sub-system, or maybe flux capacitor, fried itself), and is now heading across the country for repairs.  Thus, I won't have it for a while in Rome/Assisi.  So, while I hope to get some posts up here, and I really hope to keep Facebook and Flickr up to date on what's going on over there, it may not be as frequent as I'd like.  We'll see...  (God sure is good at making sure I'm detached from things - if anything, the money that I'm going to have to shell out to fix/replace things that I didn't want to fix or replace!)

Your quick recap of this post:  God is wonderful!  He has given me a wonderful family, and fantastic friends, both of whom I will miss greatly in heading over to Rome.  But, that sacrifice, I am starting to see, is not just a trade-off that comes with studying abroad (a cost, for the benefit of seeing the world), it's also a very real opportunity to grow in love for Christ (as every moment is)!  Please send some prayers my way so that I can continue to realize that truth, and continue to grow more like Christ (I'll reciprocate!)

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!

From Friday evening until noon on Saturday, we had the first day of recollection of the year.  These are basically mini-retreats that we have a few times each semester during which we don't use electronics, we spend extra time in prayer together, and we listen to several talks, usually on a specific topic, by a speaker that comes in for the weekend.  This last one was given by Br. John Mark Falkenhain O.S.B., a monk from St. Meinrad, who (along with other things) is in charge of vocations at St. Meinrad.  He gave us a formation conference (which are shorter, single, talks that we usually have on Wednesdays) last year on celibacy, and everyone found it beneficial, so he was invited back to give us a day of recollection focused on that topic.  It's a tricky topic to talk about (which is why I haven't talked about it much), but it's a rather important part of seminary, so I wanted to share it with all of you.  I took plenty of notes, but boiling things down, here's what we learned:

In his first talk, Br. John Mark gave us an overview of what celibacy is all about, and how, through the seminary process, we have to learn about it, and if our vocation is in fact to become priests, we have to grow into celibacy.  He started by bluntly pointing out that, for the moment, we (all us seminarians) had chosen to be celibate.  We had put ourselves in that "box", so to speak, in order to learn about it and discern if that was something that we were called to (and able to) commit to for the rest of our lives.  The program for priestly formation (from the USCCB) says that human formation (one of the four pillars that seminarians are formed in) entails self-knowledge, self-acceptance, and self-gift (in that order).  Basically, we can't possibly give ourselves to Christ, the Church, or the people until we know ourselves (more on this later).  Thus, looking at the area of celibacy, he laid out five areas in which, though the seminary process, we needed to know ourselves in.  

1. motives for celibacy (why a person decides to be celibate)
2. theology for celibacy (what gives meaning to your celibacy)
3. sexual identity 
4. strengths/skills
5. weaknesses/limitations

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!